Sources:
[1] Dickinson, Emily. The Letters of Emily Dickinson: Volume II. Ed. Thomas H. Johnson, Assoc. Ed. Theodora Ward. Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1958. 399-400. The poem as it appears in this article is taken from American Poetry: The Nineteenth Century, Vol. 2. Ed. John Hollander. New York: Library of America, 1993. 286. I prefer how Victory Comes Late— is edited in the latter volume, which is why I have chosen to use it over the version of the poem that appears in the volume of letters.“As the crisis over slavery raveled out normal party politics, Abraham Lincoln, who regularly used biblical language, turned to Revelation. That book speaks, in one of its psychedelic images, of robes washed white in the blood of the Lamb (7.14). Lincoln, in 1854, told an audience in Springfield:
“Our republican robe is soiled, and trailed in the dust. Let us repurify it. Let us turn and wash it white, in the spirit, if not the blood, of the Revelation.
“Lincoln was already dispensed to see the nation’s ordeal as a purification rite. Earlier yet, in 1838, he had written:
“Let it [federal law] become the political religion of the nation, and let the old and young, the rich and poor, the grave and gay, of all senses and tongues, and colors and conditions, sacrifice unceasingly upon its altars.
“When war actually began, there was an outbreak of apocalyptic imagery that gave Union rhetoric the accents of John Brown. The best-known example of this eruption is Ohlia Ward Howe’s biblical paean, written hastily in an army encampment, that actually used the tune of “John Brown’s Body,” but set it to verse drawn from Revelation. Though Mrs. Howe was descended from Cromwellian warriors, her evangelical background had not mattered to her much until war renewed her childhood memories of biblical crisis:
“Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is tramping out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored…”
Wills, Gary. Under God. Reissue edition. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2007. 208-09. [Brackets and emphasis in original.] On the “variety of stances [Dickinson assumed] in responding to the war” and her use of this pool of discourse available for her to draw upon, consider Faith Barrett’s essay, Drums Off the Phantom Battlements: Dickinson’s War Poems in Discursive Context, especially its opening sentences:
“‘War feels to me an oblique place,’ Emily Dickinson writes in a letter to Thomas Wentworth Higginson in February of 1863, three months after Higginson traveled to South Carolina to take command of a black regiment (JL 280). Scholars who examine Dickinson’s poetry often cite this passage as an example of Dickinson’s vexed and ambivalent writerly relationship towards the Civil War in particular and towards expressing political commitments more generally. The assumption is that Dickinson, one of the first American modernists, positions herself at a skeptical and oblique angle in relation to the war and its ideologies. In this same letter, however, Dickinson also offers a far more conventional statement about the war and its risks: echoing the concerns of many on the homefront writing to friends and relatives in the military, she worries aloud about Higginson’s safety and says that she prays for him and for other soldiers in church: ‘though not reared to prayer – when service is had in Church, for Our Arms, I include yourself’ (JL 280). In her Civil War writing, Dickinson offers both skeptical commentary on the war and expressions of concern or grief about friends who are in peril or who have lost their lives, expressions that sometimes echo popular depictions of soldiers as Christian heroes or of young soldiers rejoining their dead mothers in the afterlife.” Barret, Faith. “Drums off the Phantom Battlements: Dickinson’s War Poems in Discursive Context.” A Companion to Emily Dickinson. Smith, Martha Nell and Mary Loeffelholz, eds. Boston: Wiley-Blackwell. Forthcoming. [My emphasis]