July 21st, 1861

Dearest Mother,

    Today was our first major battle of the war. The Battle of Bull Run the fellows are calling it. We took a beating and some men have already lost hope. I know you didn’t want me to join the North, but I couldn’t fight against a humane and justified army. The South is incorrect to believe they own another human. After we spent the summer down in Texas there is no way I could ever take up arms with the plantation owners. If you remember, we met a young man named John there. He was working on a plantation when we arrived. Anyway, I saw him today dead on the field with nothing but the South’s cookware and a hole in his back. I assume he decided to try his luck and run from the army but the south didn’t appreciate it. But mother, I have something to tell you and I don’t know how to put it. I suppose you need to know. Father was on the battlefield today. I saw him. 

It burned me on the inside to see my father, the man who raised me to be a kind and honest gentleman, aim his rifle towards his own kin. A part of my heart disintegrated when I saw him be felled by a Northern musket, but maybe it is for the better. I want to remember him as a moral man not one of sin and murder. This war is a terrible one. Father fighting son should never happen. It is for the sake of liberty and justice I suppose, so it must be done. The future of our nation is at stake. If the Union gives up this fight how is it any better than the South? Standing by and watching black people being murdered is not justified Mother, it is the same as holding the gun. I’m sorry I’m the first to tell you of father, if it hasn’t reached you already. I know I’m the last person you want to be hearing from. Just know this mother, I love you. You don’t have to love me back, but I needed to tell you before I go back into battle. It may be my last. 

With sorrowful love, 

                          John