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A week before the battle of
Bull Run Sullivan Ballou, a Major in the 2nd Rhode Island
Volunteers, wrote home to his wife in Smithfield...
July 14, 1861
Camp Clark, Washington
My
very 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 to
you again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall
under your eye when I shall be no more. Our movement may be one
of a few days' duration and be full of pleasure. And it may be
one of severe conflict and death to me. "Not my will but thine O
God be done." If it is necessary
that I
should fall on the battle-field for my Country I am ready. 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
triumpth of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those
who went before us throught 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. But my dear wife, when I know that with my own
joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this
life with cares and sorrows, when after having eaten for long
years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as
the only sustenance to my dear little children, is it weak or
dishonorable that while the banner of my purpose floats calmly
and proudly in the breeze, underneath, my unbounded love for you
my darling wife and children should struggle in fierce though
useless contest with my love of country?
I
cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer Sabbath
night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of
them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of Death. And I am
suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart,
and communing with God, my country, and thee. I have sought most
closely and diligently and often in my breast for a wrong motive
in thus hazarding the happiness of all those I loved, and I
could find none. A pure love of my Country and of the principles
I have often advocated before the people, another name of honor
that I love more than I fear death, has called upon me and I
have obeyed.
Sarah, my love for you is deathless. It seems to beind 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 on, with all these chains to the battle-field.
The
memories of all the blissful moments I have enjouyed with you
come creeping over me and I feel most deeply grateful to God and
to 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 boys grow up to honorable manhood around us. I know
I have but few small claims upon Divine Providence, but
something whispers to me--perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my
little Edgar, that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If
I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, nor
that when my last breath escapes me on the battle-field, it will
whisper your name.
Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you.
How thoughtless, how foolish I have often times been! How gladly
would I wash out with my tears every little spot on your
happiuness and struggle with the misfortunes of this world to
shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot; I must watch
you from the spirit-land, and hover near you while you buffet
the storms with you precious little freight, and wait with sad
patience till we meet to part no more.
But, O Sarah, if the dead can come back to this earth and flit
unseen around those they loved, I shall be always with you in
the gladdest day and in the darkest night, amidst your happiest
scene and gloomiest hours--always, always, and if there be a
soft breeze upon 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
Major
Sullivan Ballou of the 2nd Rhode Island Infantry was killed at
the first battle of Bull Run on the 21st of July, 1861 |
