It was a week before the first large
engagement of the Union and Confederate armies. Sullivan Ballou, a major
in the 2nd Rhode Island Volunteers, sat down to write a letter to his
wife. It’s mostly a love letter to his wife, but in a larger sense, it
was a love letter to America. It was made famous by Ken Burns' epic PBS
Civil War Series and, yet, it resonates to this age.
Dear
Sarah: The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days
- perhaps tomorrow. And lest I should not be able to write you again I
feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I
am no more.
I have no misgivings about, or lack
of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does
not halt or falter. I know how American Civilization now leans upon the
triumph of the government and how great a debt we owe to those who went
before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am
willing - perfectly willing - to lay down all my joys in this life, to
help maintain this government, and to pay that debt.
Sarah,
my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables
that nothing but omnipotence can break; and yet my love of Country comes
over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly with all those
chains to the battlefield. The memory of all the blissful moments I have
enjoyed with you come crowding over me, and I feel most deeply grateful
to God and you, that I have enjoyed them for so long. And how hard it
is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes and future years,
when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and see
our boys grown up to honorable manhood around us.
If
I do not return, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I loved you, nor
that when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper
your name... Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused
you. How thoughtless, how foolish I have sometimes been!
But,
0 Sarah, if the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around
those they love, I shall always be with you, in the brightest day and
in the darkest night... always, always. And if there should be a soft
breeze against your cheek, it shall be my breath -- or the cool air
fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.
Sarah do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for me… for we shall meet again...
Sullivan Ballou was killed a week later at the 1st Battle of Bull Run, July 28, 1861.
On
the eve of a weekend where red-tag holiday sales, triumphant checkered
flags will wave and our neighborhoods be awash with the smells of
grilled food, let us remember all of those women and men for generations
who sacrificed futures for our freedom. The price they paid is the dividend we should cherish.
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