THIS IS MY BACKYARD!
It was such a beautiful fall day that I just had to make some music and Ashokan Farewell felt right. The autumn leaves were falling all around. Partway through you can hear the wind rustling them off of one of my maple trees. If you watch to the very end you can hear a leaf fall right on my D string. Ever since then when I play this piece I left-hand pluck the string right there.
The Ashokan Farewell music by Jay Ungar was written as underscore to a documentary on the Civil War by Ken Burns. When you order the music it actually comes with the letter. I think the letter and the music are so intertwined that I wanted to share it below. It is one of the most poetic, patriotic, and powerful expressions of love set to paper.
July 14, 1861
The last letter from Major Sullivan Ballou, written to his wife leading up to the battle at First Bull Run.
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
There are a couple of lines in the letter that always make me think of the hymn, “God Be With You Till We Meet Again” so I worked in a bit of that hymn in the middle of the arrangement. The lyrics and text actually come from the Civil Ware era. I expect there were a lot of sad goodbyes during that time. One of these days I’ll write this arrangement down for now it’s just something I play when the mood strikes. If you enjoy this tune, checkout the orchestral version I conducted and produced with violinist Jenny Oaks Baker. It’s a gorgeous, virtuosic arrangement performed with the Lyceum Philharmonic at American Heritage School.
Jestes przyjacielem poniewaz jestes wezlem w swobodnej kwerendzie, ktory laczy, lecz nie zniewala i wicaz na ziemie powala. Sensei H. Oshiro.
Do you know where I can purchase a copy of the sheet music (as you played on the video) for Ashokan Farewell (cello solo) along with the hymn you played at the end. You did a lovely job and the setting is beautiful!
I don’t have permission to share it from the copyright holder. Also, I never wrote it down. Maybe I should 🙂