A Brief History of Thomas

July 8th, 1862
My Dearest Kathrine
I hope this letter finds you well, I was pleased to arrive to our home in Virginia to find you not here.  I can only presume you did as I asked and escaped to your mothers home in the comforts of the deep south.  I write this letter to you with regret and dismay, but I hope you find comfort in my words and the purpose behind them.  I made you a promise that I would not join this war despite the outrage of the Confiscation Act implemented just days ago, but with battles being fought on my front lawn and negro armies raised for the soul purpose of gunning down honorable southern gentlemen I cannot resist my calling any longer.  I am entering this war and my only regret is that I must break my word to you in so doing. 
Know that my intentions are pure, I stand for the right of men to choose their own faith and not be ruled by the misguided and unchristian ideals of the north.  I may claim in public and to the men around me that I fight for the honor of this great nation, but know that the truth is that I do it to ensure that you will always live in a world of comfort as you deserve.
Yours Truly 
- Thomas Ewell

July 2nd, 1863
My Dearest Kathrine
It's hard to imagine that its been nearly a year since I have written you, but war keeps me busy and though my thoughts dwell on you in the late hours of the night, in the daytime I fight and know that I do it well.  
This morning my regiment, one among countless marched over the border of Northern Virginia into Pennsylvania for what is certain to be the most important battle of the war.  General Lee leads us himself and the officers are convinced that should we win the day, it will only be a matter of time before the north is forced to surrender.  
The men have given me the nickname Balthazar.  It's unclear to me why, but I believe it may have something to do with my veracious antics in battle.  I'm ashamed to admit it, but the thrill of battle is empowering and as I exact my revenge on the traitors of my beloved country, I gain a satisfaction I dare not attempt to describe.
I long to return to your embrace.
Yours Truly
- Thomas Ewell aka Balthazar
December 5th 1865
Mrs. Kathrine Ewell
It is my tragic duty to inform you that your husband, one Thomas Ewell is presumed killed during the battle of Gettysburg July 3rd 1863.  Though the US army has done their best to complete the account of every soldiers death and recover all of the fallen, the tragedy of war is such that its not always possible.  As of today the war inquiries are complete and those soldiers unaccounted for such as your husband, are officially presumed killed in battle.
Know that his service to his country was unquestionable and countless men came forth to speak of the accounts of Thomas's bravery and unrelenting will.
Deepest regret,
Colonel James Barton - 18th Confederate Regiment
February 19th 1895
"It's a very strange request if you ask me, who in their right mind has a funeral at night", the middle aged pastors assistant stood overlooking the casket already lifted down into the ground.  "There ain't even anyone here", she added.
"Mrs. Williams I will remind you that this is a funeral and guests or not, we will perform the ceremony, honor this women's dying wish and perform our Christian duty".  The pasture spoke with a thick, southern accent and it was clear that like many men his age, he enjoyed the sound of his own voice. 
"She must not have been a particularly kind women, no husband, no kids, not even an aunt or an uncle..." the women was suddenly interrupt, startled when she realized that the she was not alone with the pastor in the cemetery this night.  The voice came from behind them.
"She was a widow from Virginia, she lost her husband in the war for southern independence", the man stepped into the dim light as he spoke.  He wore a bicycle mustache, a reasonably tall hat and was outfitted in an all black suit with a black shirt and vest underneath. 
The pastor spun around to face the man, immediately noting the mans pasty white complexation, his chin chiseled to such an extreme it almost looked like it was made of stone.  
"We were not expecting to have visitors, but I'm glad to see she had a friend mr.?"  
"Thomas Balthazar, also from Virginia", His voice easing up as he spoke.  Thomas extended a handshake to the pasture who graciously accepted.  "Pastor William Towsend at your service", the pastor introduced himself.  "Well Mr. Balthazar, how did you know Mrs. Ewell"?
The question lingered for a moment as Thomas gazed at the casket, his smile disappearing for a moment and then returning briefly as he walked past the pastor and positioned himself on the other side of the grave.  He kneeled down and extended his arm to touch the casket.
"She was a friend I knew a long time ago, a past so distant now I can barely remember it", he spoke gently, his body language slowing.
"I should have never let her go", Thomas put his hand over his mouth as his emotions got the better of him.  His eyes did not tear up, but his face told the story of a man in pain.
"Perhaps we should give mr. Balthazar a moment, Mrs. Williams if you would please", the pastor pointing towards the chapel just a few yards away.
"It's quite alright, there is nothing to be said and besides, I didn't just come for the funeral", Thomas stood upright correcting his suit as he spoke.
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The pastor stunned in fear could barely moved, his wide eyes suggested he wanted to scream but he was frozen just staring at the scene.  Balthazar just stared at the pastor waiting for him to come to his senses, but he never did.  The pastor was not only frozen in fear but he was holding his breath.  He dropped on top of his former assistant.
"Well, that certainly didn't work out like I had hoped", Balthazar said as he adjusted his hat.