Memorial Day,
Love of country is not unique to Americans, but in a democracy,
sending
citizens to war requires far more than a dictator's fiat.
In 1861, men on both sides of the conflict were willing to lay
down their
lives for what they believed to be right.
When the war started, few volunteers in the Northern army marched
off to end
slavery, but many were ready to fight and die to preserve the Union.
One such soldier was Maj. Sullivan Ballou of the Second Regiment,
Rhode
Island Volunteers. Then 32 years old, Ballou had overcome his family's
poverty to start a promising career as a lawyer.
He and his wife, Sarah, wanted to build a better life for their
two boys,
Edgar and Willie. An ardent Republican and a devoted supporter
of Abraham
Lincoln, Ballou had volunteered in the spring of 1861, and on June
19 he and
his men had left Providence for Washington, D.C.
He wrote the following letter to his wife from a camp just outside
the
nation's capital, and it is at once a passionate love letter as
well as a
profound meditation on the meaning of the Union.
It caught national importance 129 years
after he wrote it, when it was read
on the widely watched television miniseries "The Civil War," produced
by Ken
Burns.
The beauty of the language as well as the passion of the sentiments
touched
the popular imagination, and brought home to Americans once again
what
defense of democracy entailed.
Ballou wrote the letter July 14, while awaiting orders that would
take him to
Manassas, where he and 27 of his men would die one week later at
the Battle
of Bull Run.
The following is an abridged version of the letter from Sullivan
Ballou to
his wife, Sarah:
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.
Lest I should not be able to write 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 sufferings
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 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 battlefield.
The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come
creeping over
me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed
them so
long.
And it is hard 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 grown up to honorable manhood around us ...
I have, I know, but few and 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,
and 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
and foolish I have often times been! How gladly I would wash out
with my
tears every little spot upon your happiness ...
But, O Sarah, if the dead can come back to this earth and flit
unseen around
those they love, I shall always be near you, in the gladdest days
and in the
darkest nights ... always, always, and if there be a soft breeze
upon your
cheek, it shall be my breath, 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 thee,
for we shall
meet again ...