Sullivan Ballou

[shokan]

Everyone here already has seen this.

A touching tribute (from Ken Burns' Civil War). "Ashokan Farewell" plays in the background. Man, ordinary people from New England sure knew how to put words together back then, so romantic, so Victorian, so maudlin.

This is heart-breaking, the words are so lovingly crafted. Stuff like this actually makes my eyes tear up. The wife probably received the letter from her husband after she had already been informed of his death from seeing the lists in the newspaper. She then had to inform her children. That's one hard thing, I tell ya. I've been in that situation, a situation not related to war...tears your heart out, really difficult to see the reactions on the kids faces and the random outbursts of crying later on. I can barely speak about this, it's so emotional.

The young children eventually forgot about their father, Sullivan. Kids adapt and forget, thankfully. I hope she got re-married to a loving man.

The Victorian age is over. All those people are now like dust, abiding now in some place far away. Their legacy remains however in all our memories of a simpler time.

 

[huskerblitz]

The full text of his last letter.

Headquarters, Camp Clark
Washington, D.C., July 14, 1861

My Very Dear Wife:

Indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days, perhaps to-morrow. 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.

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 battle-field for any 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 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 care 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.

I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death, and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country and thee.

I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in this hazarding the happiness of those I loved, and I could not find one. A pure love of my country, and of the principles I have often advocated before the people, and "the name of honor, that I love more than I fear death," have called upon me, and I have obeyed.
Sarah, my love for you is deathless. It seems to bind me with mighty cables, that nothing but Omnipotence can break; and yet, my love of country comes over me like a strong wind, and bears me irresistibly on with all those chains, to the battlefield. The memories of all the blissful moments I have spent with you come 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 boys grow up to honorable manhood around us.

I know I have but few 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 oftentimes 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 garish day, and the darkest night amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours always, always, and, if the soft breeze fans your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air cools your throbbing temples, it shall be my spirit passing by.
Sarah, do not mourn me dear; 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.

- Sullivan
http://www.nps.gov/resources/story.htm?id=253

 

[Drew]

This was publicly discussed in a national forum today. I thought I'd bump it.

 

[Stony]

Delving into modern politics.

 

[huskerblitz]

Delving into modern politics.

Not really if only mentioning that a Civil War letter was brought up nationally. Now if people start trying to add a modern context to it then maybe. But that wasn't what Drew was doing.

 

[JPK Huson 1863]

It's always, always worth a bump. Sullivan is a national treasure. What he and his wife lost, in his death with these words his last to her, bring home what the war symbolized in loss for both sides- and if anyone can read this without crying then a stick in the eye wouldn't do it, either.

 

[Pat Young]

Young people in my office were talking about the letter yesterday who had never heard of it before.

 

[Stony]

Not really if only mentioning that a Civil War letter was brought up nationally. Now if people start trying to add a modern context to it then maybe. But that wasn't what Drew was doing.

Gotcha. Thanks.

 

[huskerblitz]

It's always, always worth a bump. Sullivan is a national treasure. What he and his wife lost, in his death with these words his last to her, bring home what the war symbolized in loss for both sides- and if anyone can read this without crying then a stick in the eye wouldn't do it, either.

The story is even sadder when you include the search for his bodies after the battle.

 

[dlavin]

Was waiting for this. Parts of this letter were read during the inauguration yesterday.

Its a very profound letter. Way bigger than I am sure he meant for it to be when it was written

 

[tonijustine]

Ok, so how many of us were humming Ashoken Farewell as it was being read?

*raises hand*

 

[James N.]

Ballou is portrayed in the current NPS film shown at Manassas National Battlefield, and is portrayed by my friend and fellow movie-maker Steve Abolt with whom I worked on Last of the Mohicans, Legacy, and Alamo - the Price of Freedom.

 

[jay gale]

Was waiting for this. Parts of this letter were read during the inauguration yesterday.

Its a very profound letter. Way bigger than I am sure he meant for it to be when it was written

Really? at the inauguration? how cool

The way the people of the 19th century wrote has always struck me as something magnificent. Even the most simple, barely literate among them were able to artfully write their thoughts and interpretation of the world around them, almost painting pictures with their words. But if you look at it, it shouldn't be so surprising that their writing is so beautiful. It was the only media they had, they weren't bombarded with TV images or radio noise or the internet. All they had was conversation and writing, they spent more time observing the world around them and forming impressions of that world and then expressing them. Sadly, I believe that it's a lost art.

 

[Pat Young]

Really? at the inauguration? how cool

The way the people of the 19th century wrote has always struck me as something magnificent. Even the most simple, barely literate among them were able to artfully write their thoughts and interpretation of the world around them, almost painting pictures with their words. But if you look at it, it shouldn't be so surprising that their writing is so beautiful. It was the only media they had, they weren't bombarded with TV images or radio noise or the internet. All they had was conversation and writing, they spent more time observing the world around them and forming impressions of that world and then expressing them. Sadly, I believe that it's a lost art.

By Senator Schumer. I liked that he gave Ballou's rank and regiment.

 

[JPK Huson 1863]

By Senator Schumer. I liked that he gave Ballou's rank and regiment.

Did he? Did not see it but going that much further to give us Sullivan, his wife, their children and war- sure rockets us backwards in simple eloquence to one man's death- which still haunts us terribly.