Sullivan Ballou letter

Before our average writing capabilities degenerated with the advances of electronic technologies, people would write beautiful letters. Letters can not only be beautiful, they can be read time and again, by the person or by others, at the time or years later. For example:

July 14, 1861
Camp 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 after writing this letter, which was never mailed, at the first battle of Bull Run. (Oh unlucky boy!) Fifty years later, an equally beautiful letter was written by a Chinese:

意映卿卿如晤：

吾今以此书与汝永别矣！吾作此书时，尚为世中一人；汝看此书时，吾已成为阴间一鬼。吾作此书，泪珠和笔墨齐下，不能书竟，而欲搁笔。又恐汝不察吾衷，谓吾忍舍汝而死，谓吾不知汝之不欲吾死也，故遂忍悲为汝言之。

吾至爱汝！即此爱汝一念，使吾勇于就死也！吾自遇汝以来，常愿天下有情人都成眷属，然遍地腥云，满街狼犬，称心快意，几家能够？司马青衫，吾不能学太上之忘情也。语云，仁者“老吾老以及人之老，幼吾幼以及人之幼”。吾充吾爱汝之心，助天下人爱其所爱，所以敢先汝而死，不顾汝也。汝体吾此心，于悲啼之余，亦以天下人为念，当亦乐牺牲吾身与汝身之福利，为天下人谋永福也。汝其勿悲。

汝忆否四五年前某夕，吾尝语曰：“与使吾先死也，无宁汝先吾而死。”汝初闻言而怒，后经吾婉解，虽不谓吾言为是，而亦无辞相答。吾之意盖谓以汝之弱，必不能禁失吾之悲，吾先死留苦与汝，吾心不忍，故宁请汝先死，吾担悲也。嗟夫，谁知吾卒先汝而死乎！

吾真不能忘汝也！回忆后街之屋，入门穿廊，过前后厅，又三四折有小厅，厅旁一室为吾与汝双棲之所。初婚三四个月，适冬之望日前后，窗外疏梅筛月影，依稀掩映，吾与汝並肩携手，低低切切，何事不语，何情不诉！及今思之，空余泪痕！又回忆六七年前，吾之逃家复归也，汝泣告我：“望今后有远行，必以告妾，妾愿随君行。”吾亦既许汝矣。前十余日回家，即欲乘便以此行之事语汝，及与汝相对，又不能启口；且以汝之有身也，更恐不胜悲，故惟日日呼酒买醉。嗟夫！当时余心之悲，盖不能以寸管形容之。

吾诚愿与汝相守以死。第以今日事势观之，天灾可以死，盗贼可以死，瓜分之日可以死，奸官污吏虐民可以死，吾辈处今日之中国，国中无地无时不可以死！到那时使吾眼睁睁看汝死，或使汝眼睁睁看我死，吾能之乎！抑汝能之乎！即可不死，而离散不相见，徒使两地眼成穿而骨化石，试问古来几曾见破镜能重圆，则较死为苦也。将奈之何？今日吾与汝幸双健；天下人人不当死而死，与不愿离而离者，不可数计；钟情如我辈者，能忍之乎？此吾所以敢率性就死不顾汝也！吾今死无余憾，国事成不成，自有同志者在。依新已五岁，转眼成人，汝其善抚之，使之肖我。汝腹中之物，吾疑其女也，女必像汝，吾心甚慰；或又是男，则亦教其以父志为志，则我死后，尚有二意洞在也，甚幸甚幸！

吾家后日当甚贫，贫无所苦，清静过日而已。

吾今与汝无言矣！吾居九泉之下，遥闻汝哭声，当哭相和也。吾平日不信有鬼，今则又望其真有。今人又言心电感应有道，吾亦望其言是实，则吾之死，吾灵尚依依旁汝也，汝不必以无侣悲！

吾生平未尝以吾所志语汝，是吾不是处。然语之，又恐汝日日为吾担忧。吾牺牲百死而不辞，而使汝担忧，的的非吾所忍。吾爱汝至，所以为汝谋者惟恐未尽。汝幸而偶我，又何不幸而生今日之中国！吾幸而得汝，又何不幸而生今日之中国，卒不忍独善其身！嗟夫！巾短情长，所未尽者尚有万千，汝可摹拟得之。吾今不能见汝矣！汝不能舍吾，其时时于梦中寻我乎！一恸！

辛亥三月念六夜四鼓，意洞手书。

家中诸母皆通文，有不解处，望请其指教。当尽吾意为幸！

1911年3月26日

The two letters, which served the same purpose, bear striking resemblance in structure, content, and even in length. Perhaps it's only natural for someone facing permanent parting from his beloved by death to explain the righteousness of his cause, to relive, on paper and in mind, the happy times spent together, and, lastly, to resort to the existence of afterlife for reunion. 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 . . If there's language that can soften stone, here it is. If there's one justification for ghosts, this it is. 吾今与汝无言矣！吾居九泉之下，遥闻汝哭声，当哭相和也。

Unfortunately, beautiful letters in such circumstances do not always have desirable effects. (Do you want to mistreat a deceased person? Do you want to dissappoint your loved one by ignoring his very last wish?) The wife of the Chinese martyr would drown herself in tears, re-reading the deadly beautiful letter again and again, and die before long. Ballou's wife, 24 when her husband died on the battlefield, would live out her life till the age of 80, and never re-marry. It is reasonable to think that people facing a peaceful end can approach the matter differently. The Chinese writer and robust thinker Lu Xun (魯迅) told his wife in his will to forget me, re-marry, and start a new life; otherwise you're a real fool . . . Of course, wise words were not followed. His wife spent her remaining long life writing memoirs related to the great man that her husband was. Come on! Memoir is an undertaking for spare time when no grander things are possible.