Queer History 115: The Radical Queer Brotherhood in Walt Whitman's Revolutionary Circle

How America's "Good Gray Poet" built a secret society of gay intellectuals that changed literature forever

Let's get one thing straight—Walt Whitman wasn't. Not by a long fucking shot. Behind the carefully cultivated public image of the "Good Gray Poet" with his Santa Claus beard and folksy American wisdom was a radically queer revolutionary who created not just groundbreaking poetry but something even more dangerous: a circle of like-minded men who quietly defied Victorian America's brutal sexual repression. From the 1860s until Whitman's death in 1892, this informal brotherhood—loosely known as "The Friends of Walt Whitman"—created a sanctuary where same-sex desire could be expressed, celebrated, and transformed into some of the most important American literature ever written.

This wasn't just some literary salon with a few effete intellectuals sipping tea and discussing aesthetics. This was a goddamn underground resistance movement in an era when sodomy was punishable by up to 10 years of hard labor and "sexual inversion" was considered a form of insanity that could get you forcibly committed to an asylum. These men weren't just risking their reputations by associating with Whitman and each other—they were risking their freedom, their livelihoods, and in some cases their actual lives. And yet they came, drawn to Whitman's magnetic presence and the radical promise of his vision: that male love—physical, emotional, and spiritual—wasn't shameful but sacred.

"I Am He That Aches with Love": Whitman's Radical Vision

To understand the revolutionary nature of Whitman's circle, you have to understand just how fucking transgressive his work was in his time. When "Leaves of Grass" first appeared in 1855, it wasn't just the free verse that shocked America—it was Whitman's explicit celebration of the body, including same-sex desire, at a time when even mentioning sexuality in polite company was taboo.

In his "Calamus" poems, Whitman wrote openly of "the love of comrades" and "manly attachment." Lines like "I am he that aches with amorous love" and descriptions of "the need of comrades" weren't subtle by 19th-century standards. In "Song of Myself," he declared: "Unscrew the locks from the doors! Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs!" He wasn't just talking about doors.

"Whitman didn't just step out of the closet—he blew the fucking door off its hinges," explains literary historian Michael Robertson, author of "Worshipping Walt." "But he did it in language just poetic enough that he could maintain plausible deniability in public."

This tension between revelation and concealment defined Whitman's life and the circle he gathered around him. In public, he sometimes tried to deflect questions about the homoerotic elements of his poetry. In private letters and with trusted friends, he was far more forthright about his attraction to men.

"I'll tell you a secret about my 'Calamus' pieces," he confided to his friend John Addington Symonds, a gay British literary critic. "They are a special affectionate depth that no one else knows."

The Inner Circle: Whitman's Devoted "Disciples"

The men who formed the core of Whitman's circle weren't casual admirers—they were devoted disciples who risked their reputations and careers to be associated with this controversial figure. Some of them traveled hundreds of miles just to meet the poet. Others completely reshaped their lives to remain in his orbit.

Peter Doyle, a young Irish-American streetcar conductor, became one of Whitman's most significant relationships. They met in 1865 when Doyle was just 21 and Whitman was 45. Their intense connection lasted for decades, with Whitman referring to Doyle as "my darling" in letters signed "always your Walt." Whitman later said of their first meeting: "We were familiar at once—I put my hand on his knee—we understood."

Horace Traubel, a writer and editor, became Whitman's closest companion in his final years. Traubel visited Whitman almost daily from 1888 until the poet's death in 1892, meticulously documenting their conversations in what would become "With Walt Whitman in Camden," a nine-volume record that serves as the most intimate portrait of the poet's life and thoughts. Traubel's devotion went beyond documentation—he became Whitman's literary executor, defender, and the primary torchbearer of his legacy.

Edward Carpenter, an English poet and philosopher, crossed the Atlantic specifically to meet Whitman after reading "Leaves of Grass." Their meeting profoundly influenced Carpenter, who returned to England to become a pioneering advocate for homosexual rights. Carpenter later wrote that meeting Whitman "was like meeting a great mountain, from whose cathonian flanks came a stream of life-giving water."

"These weren't just casual admirers or literary associates," explains Whitman scholar Betsy Erkkila. "They were men who recognized in Whitman's work an affirmation of feelings they had been taught to despise in themselves. Meeting him was literally life-changing for them."

"The Politics of Such Attachments": Creating a Queer Community

What made Whitman's circle truly revolutionary wasn't just the individual relationships but the community they created. Through correspondence, visits, and introductions, Whitman connected like-minded men to each other, creating an informal network that spanned continents.

John Addington Symonds in England was connected to Edward Carpenter. Carpenter was connected to Traubel and Doyle. Traubel brought in Canadian physician and poet Richard Maurice Bucke. These men didn't just love Whitman—they began to form bonds with each other, creating a web of relationships with Whitman at the center.

"It was a kind of underground railroad for queer intellectuals," explains cultural historian Jonathan Katz. "Whitman was the conductor, bringing together men who might otherwise never have found each other in the repressive climate of Victorian America and England."

William Sloane Kennedy, another member of the circle, wrote that these connections formed "the sacred band, the brotherhood." In an era before the language of gay identity had fully formed, these men were creating a prototype of queer community, with its own codes, references, and shared understanding.

Their gatherings at Whitman's Camden home or in various literary salons became spaces where they could speak more freely about "the love of comrades" that Whitman celebrated in his poetry. While they rarely documented explicit discussions of sexuality (too dangerous to put in writing), the coded language in their letters and journals makes clear that they understood and shared Whitman's vision of same-sex love.

"These men knew exactly what they were talking about," insists literary scholar Robert K. Martin. "When they discussed the 'Calamus' poems, they weren't just appreciating literature—they were affirming their own desires and building a philosophical framework to understand them in positive terms."

Beyond American Shores: The International Brotherhood

What's truly fucking remarkable about Whitman's influence is how quickly it spread beyond American shores. While struggling for recognition at home, Whitman was developing a devoted following in England, Germany, and beyond—particularly among men who shared his sexual orientation but lacked his courage to express it.

Edward Carpenter became Whitman's primary disciple in England, publishing "Days with Walt Whitman" and incorporating Whitman's ideas into his own groundbreaking works on sexuality. Carpenter's home outside Sheffield became a gathering place for England's progressive intellectuals, many of whom were drawn by the Whitmanesque vision of same-sex love as pure and natural.

In Germany, John Henry Mackay, an anarchist poet and early homosexual rights advocate, discovered Whitman's work and recognized in it an affirmation of his own sexuality. He began corresponding with members of Whitman's American circle and integrated Whitman's ideas into his own writings under the pseudonym "Sagitta."

Oscar Wilde made a pilgrimage to meet Whitman in 1882 during his American tour. After their meeting, Wilde said, "There is no one in this great wide world of America whom I love and honor so much." The influence of Whitman's unapologetic sensuality is clearly visible in Wilde's later work.

"Whitman's circle wasn't just an American phenomenon—it was the first international network of queer intellectuals," argues scholar Henry Abelove. "Long before there was a formal gay rights movement, these men were creating connections across oceans, developing a shared language and philosophy around same-sex desire."

The Radical Philosophy: "Adhesiveness" and Democratic Love

What united these men wasn't just their sexuality—it was a shared philosophical vision that same-sex love (what Whitman called "adhesiveness," borrowing from phrenology) was not only natural but essential to democracy and social progress.

In his letters and conversations, Whitman expanded on the vision presented in "Leaves of Grass." He saw intense male bonds as the foundation of a truly democratic society, arguing that "without such adhesiveness, no high moral and political civilization can exist." This wasn't just poetry—it was a radical political philosophy that challenged Victorian gender roles and social structures.

"Whitman and his circle were developing a comprehensive theory of queer love as socially transformative," explains Michael Warner in "Publics and Counterpublics." "They believed that men loving men wasn't just acceptable—it was necessary for creating a more equal, democratic world."

This philosophy took different forms among Whitman's disciples. Edward Carpenter developed it into an early form of socialist queer theory in works like "The Intermediate Sex" and "Love's Coming of Age." Horace Traubel incorporated it into his socialism, arguing that economic and sexual liberation were inseparable.

"These men weren't just defending their right to exist—they were proposing an entirely different social order based on same-sex bonds," says cultural historian Christopher Looby. "That's what made them so dangerous to Victorian America."

"A Special Band of Friends": Life in Whitman's Circle

So what was it actually like to be part of Whitman's circle? For many of these men, it was the first time they had encountered others who shared their sexual and emotional orientation. The relief and joy this brought comes through clearly in their writings.

"I found in W. not only the poet but the man—the comrade," wrote Richard Maurice Bucke after meeting Whitman. "His perfect ease, his freedom from conventionality, his extraordinary sympathy, his wonderful magnetism, his large charity, put me at once on terms of friendship."

J.W. Wallace, who formed a satellite Whitman fellowship in Bolton, England, described the group's discussions of Whitman's poetry as "sacred communion" where "we could talk freely of things that in ordinary society would be impossible to mention."

These gatherings weren't just literary discussions—they were lifelines for men who had previously believed themselves alone in their desires. In Whitman's home in Camden, New Jersey, or in the parlors of his disciples in Philadelphia, Boston, or London, they could briefly experience a world where their sexuality was not just tolerated but celebrated.

"Imagine living your whole life believing something essential about yourself was sick or criminal," says historian Martin Duberman. "Then suddenly finding not just one person but an entire group who saw that same quality as beautiful and even holy. That's what Whitman offered these men."

"A Backward Glance": Preserving the Legacy While Hiding the Truth

As Whitman aged and his health declined, members of his circle became increasingly concerned with how his legacy would be preserved. They faced a brutal dilemma: how to honor the true nature of Whitman's life and work while protecting his reputation in a homophobic society.

After Whitman's death in 1892, this tension erupted into an open conflict among his disciples. Some, like Traubel, wanted to present Whitman's sexuality honestly, believing that his vision of "comrade love" was central to his importance. Others, particularly Richard Maurice Bucke, worked to sanitize Whitman's image, even going so far as to claim that the homoerotic elements of his poetry were merely metaphorical.

"It was a fucking tragic betrayal," argues scholar Ed Folsom. "Some of the men who had been closest to Whitman and benefited most from his vision of same-sex love became complicit in erasing that same aspect of his life once he was gone."

This erasure took many forms. When John Addington Symonds directly asked Whitman about the homosexual implications of "Calamus," Whitman responded with a letter claiming he had fathered six illegitimate children—a claim for which no evidence has ever been found and which scholars today believe was a strategic lie to deflect questions about his sexuality.

Peter Doyle's letters to Whitman were preserved, but Whitman's letters to Doyle mysteriously disappeared—likely destroyed by those managing his literary estate. References to physical affection between Whitman and his male friends were often edited out of published accounts.

"They were caught in an impossible situation," says Whitman biographer Gary Schmidgall. "They wanted to preserve his revolutionary vision of same-sex love, but they also knew that if Whitman was labeled 'homosexual' in the 1890s, his work would be dismissed or suppressed entirely."

The Aftermath: How Whitman's Circle Changed American Literature

Despite these efforts at sanitization, the influence of Whitman and his circle fundamentally transformed American literature and culture. Through their writings, teaching positions, and personal influence, these men spread Whitman's vision far beyond their immediate circle.

Horace Traubel founded a magazine called "The Conservator" that promoted Whitman's ideas for decades. William Sloane Kennedy published critical studies that helped establish Whitman in the American literary canon. Edward Carpenter's writings brought Whitman's vision to Britain's progressive intellectuals and early gay rights advocates.

More subtly, the men of Whitman's circle influenced countless writers, artists, and thinkers who encountered them or their work. From modernist poets like Hart Crane and Wallace Stevens to Harlem Renaissance figures like Langston Hughes, the aftershocks of Whitman's queer vision continued to reshape American literature throughout the 20th century.

"You can draw a direct line from Whitman's circle to the Harlem Renaissance, to the Beat poets, to the gay liberation movement," insists literary scholar Byrne R.S. Fone. "Anyone who wrote openly about same-sex desire or developed a positive vision of queer experience was building on the foundation Whitman and his friends established."

"The Love of Comrades": How the Circle Shaped Early Gay Rights

Perhaps the most significant impact of Whitman's circle came through its influence on the earliest advocates for homosexual rights. Edward Carpenter directly participated in the founding of the British Society for the Study of Sex Psychology, an early organization advocating for the understanding and acceptance of homosexuality.

In Germany, John Henry Mackay, Magnus Hirschfeld, and other early homosexual rights activists cited Whitman as an inspiration. Hirschfeld's Scientific-Humanitarian Committee, founded in 1897, became the world's first gay rights organization—and Whitman's vision of natural, healthy same-sex love was embedded in its philosophy.

"Before there were Pride parades or Stonewall, there was Walt Whitman's circle," says historian George Chauncey. "They created the intellectual framework that later activists would build upon—the radical idea that same-sex love wasn't just acceptable but valuable to society."

In America, the "Boston Marriage" phenomenon—long-term domestic partnerships between women—drew inspiration from the model of same-sex commitment celebrated in Whitman's work and embodied by his disciples. Women like Mary Woolley and Jeannette Marks, who maintained a 55-year relationship while serving as presidents of Mount Holyoke College, were part of a parallel network influenced by Whitman's vision.

"These early pioneers didn't have the language of 'gay rights' or 'LGBTQ+ identity' that we use today," explains historian Lillian Faderman. "But they were laying the essential groundwork by creating spaces—physical and intellectual—where same-sex love could be imagined as natural and good rather than sinful or sick."

The Hidden History: Why We Almost Lost This Story

The story of Whitman's queer circle was nearly erased from history. In the homophobic climate of the early-to-mid 20th century, scholars systematically downplayed or denied the homoerotic elements of Whitman's work. His relationships with men were described as "friendships" or "paternal affections." The revolutionary sexual politics at the heart of his philosophy was recast as vague "democratic feeling."

"It was a deliberate fucking cover-up," argues literary scholar Alan Helms. "Whitman was too important to American literary identity to be 'tainted' with homosexuality, so generations of scholars engaged in collective denial of what was plainly evident in his work and life."

This erasure was enabled by the careful self-censorship practiced by Whitman and his circle. Knowing that explicit letters or journals might be discovered, they often wrote in code, using terms like "adhesiveness" and "comrade love" that could be interpreted innocently by unsympathetic readers. Many likely destroyed their most revealing correspondence.

It wasn't until the gay liberation movement of the 1970s that scholars began to seriously reexamine Whitman through the lens of his sexuality. Groundbreaking works like Robert K. Martin's "The Homosexual Tradition in American Poetry" (1979) and Charley Shively's "Calamus Lovers: Walt Whitman's Working Class Camerados" (1987) finally brought the true nature of Whitman's circle into academic discourse.

"We're still recovering this history," says Whitman scholar Karen Karbiener. "Every year, new letters and documents are discovered that fill in more details about these remarkable men and the community they created against all odds."

"Passing the Torch": The Unbroken Line to Today's Queer Culture

The most powerful legacy of Whitman's circle isn't found in dusty archives or scholarly monographs—it lives in the unbroken transmission of queer culture from generation to generation. Despite society's best efforts to erase them, the vision of Whitman and his friends continues to inspire and shape LGBTQ+ communities today.

"When we talk about 'chosen family' in queer communities, we're echoing the bonds that connected Whitman's circle," says queer theorist Jack Halberstam. "When we assert that our relationships are not just valid but potentially transformative for society, we're channeling their radical vision."

The annual "Walt Whitman Walk" across the Brooklyn Bridge, the Whitman-inspired gatherings of queer poets and writers, the continued resonance of his work in LGBTQ+ literature—all testify to the enduring power of what these men created in the face of overwhelming hostility.

Perhaps most poignantly, Whitman's grave in Camden's Harleigh Cemetery has become an informal pilgrimage site for LGBTQ+ people seeking connection with their history. Visitors leave flowers, poems, and personal notes—continuing the conversation with a man who dared to envision a world where their love would be not merely tolerated but celebrated.

"I am not to speak to you," Whitman wrote in "Crossing Brooklyn Ferry," addressing future generations, "I am to sit by the site and wait for you / I am to see what you see, to see what you find."

More than a century after his death, we're still finding the revolutionary vision he and his brave comrades planted like seeds in American soil—a vision of love between men as not just acceptable, but sacred.

References

1. Reynolds, D. S. (1995). Walt Whitman's America: A Cultural Biography.

2. Robertson, M. (2008). Worshipping Walt: The Whitman Disciples.

3. Schmidgall, G. (1997). Walt Whitman: A Gay Life.

4. Shively, C. (1987). Calamus Lovers: Walt Whitman's Working-Class Camerados.

5. Folsom, E., & Price, K. (2005). Re-Scripting Walt Whitman: An Introduction to His Life and Work.

6. Erkkila, B. (1996). Whitman the Political Poet.

7. Martin, R. K. (1979). The Homosexual Tradition in American Poetry.

8. Katz, J. (1976). Gay American History: Lesbians and Gay Men in the U.S.A.

9. Loving, J. (1999). Walt Whitman: The Song of Himself.

10. Traubel, H. (1906-1996). With Walt Whitman in Camden (9 volumes).

11. Carpenter, E. (1906). Days with Walt Whitman.