my dear Sir,—The painful duty of recording the death of your son has been imposed upon me. He died at his post in battle.
We have become so familiar with scenes of blood and death, that our comrades fall besides us, barely claiming the most ordinary rights of burial; but I speak of this brigade at least, when I say that an unusual bereavement has befallen us in the death of your most noble son, and shrouded in deep gloom even the hearts that would leap with joy and thanksgiving for the great victory accorded our arms and the holy cause to which they are devoted.
The living example of that true nobility which it is possible for a man to attain has indeed passed from us; but we must ever remember with pride that we have been honored by association with a heart so pure, a spirit so brave, with a man who would—not hesitate to give his life cheerfully for his and his country's honor.
I cannot give expression to the admiration and love which your son, above others, claimed of us, still less speak in fitting terms of the profound grief that fills our hearts.
While we live, his memory will be sacredly cherished, and we will always point to
Lieutenant Ropes as an heroic man, worthy of a life-long effort to imitate in every particular.
