Un día como hoy pero de 1861, el soldado yanqui Sullivan Balou en la Guerra de Secesión estadounidense escribió esta carta, que para mí – como para mi gran amigo Emilio Useche que me la recomendó leer – me ha generado una gran emoción.
Profeballa
July 14, 1861Camp 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 unresistibly on with all these chains
to the battle field.
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
for 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 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 battle field, 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 would I 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 loved, 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 …
Sullivan Ballou was killed a week later at the First Battle of Bull Run,
July 21, 1861.
Born March 28, 1829, in Smithfield, Rhode Island, Ballou was educated at
Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts; Brown University in Providence,
Rhode Island; and the National Law School in Ballston, New York. He was
admitted to the Rhode Island Bar in 1853.
Ballou devoted his brief life to public service. He was elected in 1854
as clerk of the Rhode Island House of Representatives, later serving as its
speaker. He married Sarah Hart Shumway on October 15, 1855, and the following
year saw the birth of their first child, Edgar. A second son, William, was born
in 1859. Ballou immediately entered the military after the war broke out in
1861. He became judge advocate of the Rhode Island militia and was 32 at the
time of his death at the First Battle of Bull Run on July 21, 1861.
When he died, his wife was 24. She later moved to New Jersey to live out
her life with her son, William, and never remarried. She died at age 80 in
1917. Sullivan and Sarah Ballou are buried next to each other at Swan Point
Cemetery in Providence, Rhode Island. They have no known living descendants.
Ironically, Sullivan Ballou's letter was never mailed. Although Sarah
would receive other, decidedly more upbeat letters dated after the now-famous
letter from the battlefield, the letter in question would be found among
Sullivan's effects when Governor William Sprague of Rhode Island traveled to
Virginia to retrieve the remains of his state's sons who had fallen in battle.
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