There was a kid I went to Jr. High and high school with. He wasn't the most sociable guy, and he did have a rat tail, but what I remember most about him was actually his father. His dad had been a Civil War re-enactor and when we came to that part in our history class, he was invited to speak to us. He was a very kind, and very knowledgeable man dressed to the 't' Gone with the Wind style. I had my own interests and a father who regularly dresses in kilts, but I did wonder what could possibly compel someone to dress that way that didn't have to?
I've never been a Civil War buff, but I was watching the brilliant Ken Burns Documentary and the ending of the first episode set my spine tingling. A letter was narrated by a Union soldier named Sullivan Ballou to his wife Sarah a week before the battle of Bull run. It's things like this, I guess, that fascinated people about this period. I can understand why.
July 14,1861
Camp Clark, Washington DC
Dear Sarah:
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days - perhaps tomorrow. And 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 am 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 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.
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 with all those chains to the battlefield. The memory of all the blissful moments I have enjoyed with you come crowding over me, and I feel most deeply grateful to God and you, that I have enjoyed them for so long. And how hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes and future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and see our boys grown up 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, 0 Sarah, if the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they love, I shall always be with you, in the brightest day and in the darkest night... always, always. And when the soft breeze fans your cheek, it shall be my breath, or the cool air 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...
Poor man was killed a week later.