I am fascinated with the Civil War ─ the era, the political atmosphere, the differing cultures of the North and the South, the sadness of how the four-year struggle destroyed a country, countless states, communities and, mostly, families.
More than 10,000 military engagements took place during the war, 40% of them in Virginia and Tennessee. Therefore, since I live in that part of the Blue Ridge that I lovingly refer to as Marpennsylginia, it’s no wonder that I’m reminded of the War just about everywhere I go.
It should come as no surprise, then, that smidgeons of the Civil War wove their way into my novel.
The War resulted in 1,030,000 casualties (3% of the population), including about 620,000 soldier deaths—more than half by disease.
Yet, despite four years of suffering and turmoil, people built lives, celebrated birthdays, got married, went to school, fell in love.
Yes, love still reigned amidst the chaos. Nowhere is that more obvious than in the following letter, written by Sullivan Ballou, a lawyer and major in the United States Army. He penned this eloquent letter to his wife, Sarah Hart Shumway, a week before he was killed beside other Rhode Island Volunteers in the First Battle of Bull Run.
Just so you know, Sullivan and Sarah had two sons, Edgar and William. In this letter, Ballou tried to crystallize the many emotions he was feeling: anticipation, sadness, fear, guilt, hope, and the struggle between his sense of duty and his love for Sarah and the boys.
Get your tissues ready, and please do let me know if you like the letter too.
The Most Incredible Love Letter Ever Written
July the 14th, 1861
Washington D.C.
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 lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.
Our movement may be one of a few days duration and 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 battlefield 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 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.
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 their only sustenance to my dear little children—is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country.
Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you 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 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. 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 been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune 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 your 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 always be near you; in the brightest day and in the darkest night—amidst your happiest scenes 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.
As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father’s love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers I call God’s blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.
Historical intrigue interwoven with modern-day suspense and a touch of the mysterious.
Contemporary romantic suspense.
Coming-of-age sagas.
This is an incredible love letter. Words from the past from a man to his wife that resonate with me… “Come to me, and lead thither my children.” Beautiful
They certainly had a beautiful way of putting words together back then! It sure sounds better than ‘I love you – take good care of my boys. See ya when I get back – if I get back.’ LOL