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Title: Review—

Creator: Walt Whitman

Date: 23–24 May, 1865

Whitman Archive ID: uva.00062

Source: Papers of Walt Whitman (MSS 3829), Clifton Waller Barrett Library of American Literature, Albert H. Small Special Collections Library, University of Virginia. Transcribed from digital images of the original. For a description of the editorial rationale behind our treatment of the notebooks, see our statement of editorial policy.

Editorial note: Whitman wrote these notes on May 23rd and 24th, 1865, during the Grand Review of the Armies, a parade of Union forces in Washington, D.C.

Notes written on manuscript: On leaf 12 verso, in unknown hand: "CWB 18 M–II"

Contributors to digital file: Brett Barney, Eric Conrad, and Nicole Gray

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Review—

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fifes like a tho the thousand whistles of the fifes, (playing Lannigan's ball) so ro with inexpressible roguishness—(50 drums)

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the Irish with their heads all d copiously dressed with branches of green—impulsive, shouting—

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President, Gen. Grant, Stanton Meade, Hancock Sec Wells, McCulloch

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—some of the very full artillery regts look'd splendidly—moving in masses—
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good, hearty young men

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scene near President's stand—rolling drums saluting officers

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—the pontoons

—the big panniers on mules backs fill'd with shovels _^(panniers made of ox-hide)

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9th Corps—splendid

—with battle flags

—men looked very neat & clean but worn

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with bouquets in caps

—the ambulance with hanging lantern

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great drum corps

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old tatters, that had been battle flags

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Pioneers with axes on shoulders

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the crowds

the perfect day—the clear sky—the white, & edged clouds

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the long & glittering, wide ranks they c—will they never stop?—For two wholde days commencing early in the morning & continuing long into the night—the the beleating drum—every musket bright, with sup–pointed slanting bayonet glinting in the bright sun—

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the drums, [illegible]endless drums producing a strange delicious trembling shock in the belly

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Clarendon Hotel

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Capt. Wm Caldwell born in Scotland.

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age 27—came out from palace garden as serg't

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been in the same fights as George

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Walt Whitman

yellow badged Hospital wagons

Hospitals

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name of poem

—the flags—the flags—the flags!

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5th—& 146th NY

The flags! the flags! the flags

tatters & shreds—

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—not the gaudy

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some of those men with _^branches of flowers stuck in their hats

Walt Whitman

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The flags

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wh the blood—wet blood the ardor, devotion

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as they pa[illegible]ss—

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2d day

May 24, 1865

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15th & 17th Corps

First the broad capacious open waiting avenue—then singly Gen Sherman, passing rapidly by—the sudden shouts, quite tumultous,—but he pays no more attention to it, than if he it was the wind blowing—

—the large _^& magnificent bouquet—he turns, one of his generals from behind rides up & takes it from him—a & still the shouting crowd, & still the perfect deafness &

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immobility of the great soldier—with a I think a shade of scornfulness & haughtyiness & scornful p passion on his nervous face. (Haughty here to this ephemeral popular hurrahing, but, as I know from many a soldier of his army, res

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In Whitman's Hand

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