[Sullivan Ballou, a major in the 2nd Rhode Island Infantry, wrote this
letter home to his wife in Smithfield, Rhode Island:]
My very dear Sarah,
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days, perhaps
tomorrow. 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 shall be 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 strongly
American civilization now leans on 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, perfecting 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 could break. And yet my love of country comes
over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly, with all these chains,
to the battlefield.
The memory of all the blissful moments I have enjoyed with you comes
crowding over me, and I feel most deeply grateful to God and you that I have
enjoyed them so long. And how hard it is for me to give them up and burn to
ashes the hopes of future years when, God willing, we might still have lived
and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us.
If I do not return, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love 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, oh 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 days and
in the darkest nights. Always. Always.
And when the soft breeze fans your cheek, it shall be my breath; and as 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.
Maj. Sullivan Ballou
[Sullivan Ballou wrote this July 14, 1861, and was killed a week later at
the First Battle of Bull Run.]
~~
Dr Bob Griffin
[email protected] www.grif.net
“Jesus Knows Me, This I Love!”