Section 8

I help myself to material and immaterial ; No guard can shut me off, nor law prevent me.’
IT anchor my ship for a little while only ; My messengers continually cruise away, or bring their returns to me.
I go hunting polar furs and the seal—leaping chasms with a pike-pointed staff—clinging to topples of brittle and blue.
I ascend to the foretruck ;
I take my place late at night in the crow’s-nest ;
We sail’ the arctic sea—it is plenty light enough ;
Through the clear atmosphere I stretch around on the wonderful
beauty ; The enormous masses of ice pass me, and I pass them—the scenery is plain in all directions ; 810
The white-topt mountains show* in the distance—I fling out my fancies toward them ;
(We are approaching some great battle-field in which we are soon to be engaged ; :
We pass the colossal outposts of the encampment—we pass with still feet and caution ;
1 1855 reads ‘orchards of God, and look at the spheric p/ Wwe 2 1855 5660 read ‘‘no law can prevent me.”’
8 1855 756 read ‘ We sail through,” etc,
* 1855 reads ‘‘ mountains point up,’’ etc,
WALT WHITMAN 69
Or we are entering by the suburbs some vast and ruin’d city ; The blocks and fallen architecture more than all the living cities of the globe. )
I am a free companion—I bivouac by invading watchfires.
I turn the bridegroom out of bed, and stay with the bride myself ; I tighten her all night to my thighs and lips.
My voice is the wife’s voice, the screech by the rail of the stairs ; They fetch my man’s body up, dripping and drown’d. 820
I understand the large hearts of heroes,
The courage of present times and all times ;
How the skipper saw the crowded and rudderless wreck of the steam-ship, and Death chasing it up and down the storm ;
How he knuckled tight, and gave not back one inch, and was faithful of days and faithful of nights,
And chalk’d in large letters, on a board, Be of good cheer, we will not desert you :
How he follow’d with them, and tack’d with them—and would not give it up ;’
How he saved the drifting company at last :
How the lank loose-gown’d women look’d when boated from the side of their prepared graves ;
How the silent old-faced infants, and the lifted sick, and the sharp-lipp’d unshaved men :
All this I swallow—it tastes good—I like it well—it becomes mine ; 830
J am the man—I suffer’d—I was there.
The disdain and calmness of olden’ martyrs ;
The mother, condemn’d for a witch, burnt with dry wood, her children gazing on ;
The hounded slave that flags in the race, leans by the fence, blowing, cover’d with sweat ;
The twinges that sting like needles his legs and neck—the mur- derous buckshot and the bullets ;
All these I feel, or am.
1 Line 826 added in 1860. 2
70 LEAVES OF GRASS
I am the hounded slave, I wince at the bite of the dogs,
Hell and despair are upon me, crack and again crack the marks- men ;
I clutch the rails of the fence, my gore dribs, thinn’d with the ooze of my skin ;
I fall on the weeds and stones ; 840
~The riders spur their unwilling horses, haul close,
Taunt my dizzy ears, and beat me violently over the head with whip-stocks.*
Agonies are one of my changes of garments ;
I do not ask the wounded person how he feels— I myself become the wounded person ;
My hurts turn livid upon me as I lean on a cane and observe.
Iam the mash’d fireman with breast-bone broken ;
Tumbling walls buried me in their debris ;
Heat and smoke I inspired—I heard the yelling shouts of my comrades ;
I heard the distant click of their picks and shovels ;
They have clear’d the beams away—they tenderly lift me forth. 850
I lie in the night air in my red shirt—the pervading hush is for my sake ;
Painless after all I lie, exhausted but not so unhappy ;
White and beautiful are the faces around me—the heads are bared of their fire-caps ;
The kneeling crowd fades with the light of the torches.
Distant and dead resuscitate ; They show as the dial or move as the hands of me—I am the clock myself.
I am an old artillerist—I tell of my fort’s bombardment ; I am there again.
Again the long roll of the drummers ;?
1 1855 reads ‘* They taunt my dizzy ears, they beat, etc. whip-stocks.”’
? 1855 reads ‘‘ Again the reveille of drummers, again the attacking cannon and mortars and howitzers.’’ 185660 read ‘‘ Again the reveille of drummers, again the attacking cannon, mortars, howitzers.”’
‘
«eo With their
WALT WHITMAN Zak
Again the attacking cannon, mortars ; 860 Again, to.my listening ears, the cannon responsive.!
I take part—I see and hear the whole ;
The cries, curses, roar—the plaudits for well-aim’d shots ;
The ambulanza slowly passing, trailing its red drip;
Workmen searching after damages, making” indispensable re- pairs ;
The fall of grenades through the rent roof—the fan-shaped ex- plosion ;
The whizz of limbs, heads, stone, wood, iron, high in the air.
Again gurgles the mouth of my dying general—he furiously waves with his hand ;
He gasps through the clot, Ind not me—mind—the entrench- ments. i
34
Now I tell what I knew in Texas in my early youth ;* 870
(I tell not the fall of Alamo,
Not one escaped to tell the fall of Alamo,
The hundred and fifty are dumb yet at Alamo ;)*
’Tis the tale of the murder in cold blood of four hundred and twelve young men.°
Retreating, they had form’d in a hollow square, with their bag- gage for breastworks ;
Nine hundred lives out of the surrounding enemy’s, nine times their number, was the price they took in advance ;
Their colonel was wounded and their ammunition gone ;
They treated for an honorable capitulation, receiv’d writing and seal, gave up their arms, and march’d back prisoners of war.
They were the glory of the race of rangers ; Matchless with horse, rifle, song, supper, courtship, 880
1 1855 reads ‘¢ Again the attacked send their cannon responsive.” 1856 760 omit *‘ their.’”? 1870 reads ‘¢ Again the cannon responsive.”
2 1855 reads ‘‘and to make.’’
3 Line 870 added in 1867. : ,
4 After line 873, 1855 56 read ‘‘ Hear now the tale of a jet-black sunrise.”’
5 1855 756 read ‘* Hear now the murder in cold blood,” etc. 1860 reads ‘‘ Hear now the tale of the murder in cold blood,’’ etc.
72 LEAVES OF GRASS |
Large, turbulent, generous, handsome, proud, and affectionate,* Bearded, sunburnt, drest in the free costume of hunters, Not a single one over thirty years of age.
The second First-day? morning they were brought out in squads, and massacred—it was beautiful early summer ; The work commenced about five o’clock, and was over by eight.
None obey’d the command to kneel ;
Some made a mad and helpless rush—some stood stark and straight ;
A few fell at once, shot in the temple or heart—the living and dead lay together ;
The maim’d and mangled dug in the dirt—the newcomers saw them there ;
Some, half-kill’d, attempted to crawl away ; 890
These were despatch’d with bayonets, or batter’d with the blunts of muskets ;
A youth not seventeen’ years old seiz’d his assassin till two more came to release him ;
The three were all torn, and cover’d with the boy’s blood.
At eleven o’clock began the burning of the bodies : That is the tale of the murder of the four hundred and bwekte young men,*
35 Would you hear of an old-fashion’d sea-fight ?* Would’ you learn who won by the light of the moon and stars? List to the story as my grandmother’s father. the sailor, told it to me.®
Our foe was no skulk in his ship, I tell you, (said he ;)"
1 1855 756 read ae Large, turbulent, brave, handsome, generous, proud and affectionate.’’ 1860770 read Large, turbulent, generous, brave, hand- Sone proud and affectionate.”
21855 °56 read “Sunday.”
3 1855 756. After line 395 read ‘¢ And that was a jet-black sunrise.’
* 1855 ’56’60 read ‘* Did you read in the sea-books of an old-fashioned frigate- fight? es
5 1855 ’56 60 read “ Did you learn,” etc.
6 Line 898 added in 1867.
1 « (said he ;)’’? added in 1867.
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WALT WHITMAN 73
His was the surly English pluck—and there is no tougher or truer, and never was, and never will be; goo Along the lower’d eve he came, horribly raking us.
We closed with him—the yards entangled—the cannon touch’d ; My captain lash’d fast with his own hands.
We had receiv’d some eighteen pound shots under the water ; On our lower-gun-deck two large pieces had burst at the first fire, killing all around, and blowing up overhead.
Fighting at sun-down, fighting at dark ;1
Ten o’clock at night, the full moon well up,’ our leaks on the gain, and five feet of water reported ;
The master-at-arms loosing the prisoners confined in the after- hold, to give them a chance for themselves.
The transit to and from the magazine is* now stopt by the senti-
nels, They see* so many strange faces, they do not know whom to trust. gio
Our frigate takes fire ;° The other asks® if we demand quarter? If our colors are struck, and the fighting is’ done?
Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain,® We have not struck, he composedly cries, we have just begun our
part of the fighting.
Only three guns are in use ; One is directed by the captain himself against the enemy’s main-
mast ; Two, well served with grape and canister, silence’ hig musketry
and clear” his decks.
Line 906 added in 1867. «well up’’ added in 1867. 1855 ’56’60. For ‘‘is’’ read ‘‘ was,” 1855 ’56’60. For ‘‘ see’ read ‘‘saw.”’ 1855 756760. Read * was afire.”’ 1855 ’56’60. For ‘‘asks”’ read ‘‘ asked.” 1855 756’60. Omit ‘‘is.” 8 1855 56 ’60 read ‘I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain,’? and so, to line 942, the early editions read in the past tense. 1867 reads ‘Now I laugh,’ etc,, adding to end of line ‘‘(says my grandmother's
father. )” "9 ois 56 ’60 read ‘¢silenced.”’ 10 1855 756 ’60 read ‘cleared.”’
TO OP 0 to oe
74. LEAVES OF GRASS
The tops alone second the fire of this little battery, especially the main-top ; They hold out bravely during the whole of the action. 920
Not a moment’s cease ; The leaks gain fast on the pumps—the fire eats toward the powder- magazine.
One of the pumps has been shot away—it is generally thought we are sinking.
Serene stands the little captain ; He is not hurried—his voice is neither high nor low ; His eyes give more light to us than our battle-lanterns.
Toward twelve at night, there in the beams of the moon, they
surrender to us.’ 36
Stretch’d and still lies the midnight ;
Two great hulls motionless on the breast of the darkness ;
Our vessel riddled and slowly sinking—preparations to pass to the one we have conquer’d ; 930
The captain on the quarter-deck coldly giving his orders through a countenance white as a sheet ;
Near by, the corpse of the child that serv’d in the cabin ;
The dead face of an old salt with long white hair and carefully curl’d whiskers ;
The flames, spite of all that can be done, flickering aloft and below ;
The husky voices of the two or three officers yet fit for duty ;
Formless stacks of bodies, and bodies by themselves—dabs of flesh upon the masts and spars,
Cut of cordage, dangle of rigging, slight shock of the soothe of waves,
Black and impassive guns, litter of powder-parcels, strong scent,
Delicate sniffs of sea-breeze, smells of sedgy grass and fields by the shore, death-messages given in charge to survivors,
The hiss of the surgeon’s knife, the gnawing teeth of hissaw, 940
Wheeze, cluck, swash of falling blood, short wild scream, and long, dull, tapering groan ;
These so—these irretrievable.
_ | 1867 reads, after line 927, ‘‘O now it is not my grandmother’s father there in the fight ; I feel it is 1 myself.”’
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WALT WHITMAN 75
37 O Christ !* This is mastering me ! In at the’ conquer’d doors they crowd. I am possess’d.
I embody all presences outlaw’d or suffering ;* See myself in prison shaped like another man, And feel the dull unintermitted pain.
For me the keepers of convicts shoulder their carbines and keep watch ; It is I let out in the morning, and barr’d at night.
Not a mutineer walks handcuff’d to jail, but I am handcuff’d to him and walk by his side ; 950
(1 am less the jolly one there, and more the silent one, with sweat on my twitching lips. ) i
Not a youngster is taken for larceny, but I go up too, and am tried and sentenced.
Not a cholera patient lies at the last gasp, but I also lie at the last gasp ;
My face is ash-color’d—my sinews gnarl—away from me people retreat.
~ Askers embody themselves in me, and I am embodied in them ;
I project my hat, sit shame-faced, and beg.*
1185556. For lines 943-4 read ‘‘O Christ! my fit is mastering me! What the rebel said gaily adjusting his throat to the rope-noose, What the savage at the stump, his eye-sockets empty, his mouth spirting whoops and defiance, What stills the traveler come to the vault at Mount Vernon. What sobers the Brooklyn boy as he looks down on the shores of the Walla- bout and remembers the prison ships, What burst the guns of the redcoat at Saratoga when he surrendered his brigades, These become mine and me every one, and they are but little. I become as much more as [I like.”’ 1860 reads ‘‘O Christ! This is mastering me! Through the conquered doors they crowd. I am possessed.”’ Then follows as in 1855 ’56. 1867 reads ‘ Through the conquered,’’ etc. 1855 ’56 ’60 read ‘I become any presence or truth of humanity here.’’ 1855756. After line 956 read ‘I rise extatic through all and sweep with the true gravitation, The whirling and whirling is elemental within me.”’ 1860 reads ‘‘ Enough—I bring such to a close, Rise extatic through all,’’ etc,, asin 1855 756.
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76 | LEAVES OF GRASS
(38) Enough! enough! enough !7 > ib
Somehow I have been stunn’d. Stand back!
Give me a little time beyond my cuff’d head, slumbers, dreams, gaping ;
I discover myself on the verge of a usual mistake. 960
That I could forget the mockers and insults !
That I could forget the trickling tears, and the blows of the bludgeons and hammers !
That I could look with a separate look on my own crucifixion and bloody crowning.
I remember now ;
I resume the overstaid fraction ;
The grave of rock multiplies what has been confided to it, or to any graves ;
Corpses rise, gashes heal, fastenings roll from me.”
I troop forth replenish’d with supreme power, one of an average unending procession ;*
Inland and sea-coast we go,* and we pass all boundary lines ;
Our swift ordinances on their way over the whole earth; 970
The blossoms we wear in our hats the growth of thousands of years.°
Eleves, I salute you! come forward !° Continue your annotations, continue your questionings.
1 Line 957 added in 1867.
21855 756 read ‘roll away.”
31855. After line 968 reads ‘¢ We walk the roads of Ohio and Massachu- setts and Virginia and Wisconsin and New York and New Orleans and Texas and Montreal and San Francisco and Charleston and Savannah and Mexico.”’ 1856 ’60 sameas above, with changes in arrangement.
4 1855 ’56 ’60 read ‘Inland and by the sea-coast and boundary lines,”’ etc.
5 1855 ’56 ’60 read “ growth of two thousand years. ’?
6 1855 756 ’60 read ‘ Elves, I salute you,
I see the approach of your numberless gangs, I see you understand yourselves and me,
And know that they who have eyes are divine, and the blind and lame are equally divine,
And that my steps drag behind yours yet go before them
And are aware that I am with you no more than I am with everybody.”
WALT WHITMAN | 77
39 The friendly and flowing savage, Who is he? Is he waiting for civilization, or past it, and mastering it?
Is he some south-westerner, rais’d out-doors? Is he Kanadian? Is he from the Mississippi country ? Iowa, Oregon, California? the mountains? prairie-life, bush-life? or from the sea?
Wherever he goes, men and women accept and desire him ; They desire he should like them, touch them, speak to them, stay with them.
Behavior lawless as snow-flakes, words simple as grass, uncomb’d
head, laughter, and naiveté, 980 Slow-stepping feet, common features, common modes and ema- nations ;
They descend in new forms from the tips of his fingers ; They are wafted with the odor of his body or breath—they fly out of the glance of his eyes.
40
Flaunt of the sunshine, I need not your bask,—lie over ! You light surfaces only—lI force surfaces and depths also.
Earth! you seem to look for something at my hands ; Say, old Top-knot! what do you want?