Over the past two days, I have been watching the Ken Burns documentary on the Civil War. For those of you who know me well, this is not surprising! At the close of the first episode, the narrator reads a beautiful love letter from Major Sullivan Ballou of the Second Rhode Island Volunteers to his wife, Sarah. I was moved to tears (which is also not surprising!). Since the Fourth of July is tomorrow, I wanted to share it in the hope we can more fully appreciate the sacrifices made by those who have served so that our country can be free.
Dear Sarah,
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 am no more. I have no misgiving 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 on the triumph of the government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the Revolution. And I am willing, perfectly willing, to lay down all 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. Yet my love of country comes over me like a strong wind, bearing me irresistibly with all those chains to the battlefield. The memory of all those blissful moments I have enjoyed with you come crowding over me, and I feel most deeply grateful to God and to you that I've enjoyed them for so long. How hard it is 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 see our boys grow 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 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 sometimes been. But, oh Sarah, if the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen among those they love, I'll always be with you, in the brightest day and the darkest night, always. And when the soft breeze fans your cheek, it shall be my breath. Or the cool air at your throbbing temples, 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 First Battle of Bull Run*
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