She Died, He Lived

A Union Soldier Comes Home to the Tragedy of Peace

In 1861, Sergeant James S. Dupray - Co. I, 12th Iowa Volunteer Infantry Regiment - wrote to his sister with conviction, speaking of duty, sacrifice, and the hope that one day he would return home and cherish it more than ever. He saw war as a necessary act—an obligation to his country, his family, and his faith.

Four years later - in 1865 - he finally returned. But the home he longed for was unrecognizable. His children were scattered. His wife, whom he loved dearly but left behind to serve his country—was dead. In a letter written after his homecoming, Dupray’s words shift from purpose to devastation, from duty to grief, as he struggles to understand what remains for him after the war took everything.

These two letters, placed side by side, tell a story that history rarely focuses on—not of victories or defeats, but of the private cost of war, the wreckage beyond the battlefield, and the haunting irony of a man who fought to preserve his home, only to return and find it lost.

The Hope of 1861: A Man with Purpose

When Sergeant James S. Dupray left home in October 1861, he carried with him a sense of duty, faith, and sacrifice. In a letter to his sister, he expressed not only his conviction but his belief that war would make him appreciate home even more upon his return.

“I have only one grand object in view—that is to do my duty first to my God, then to my country and family.” [1]

Dupray believed in his mission, despite the looming uncertainty. He spoke of trusting God’s mercy, of returning to his family better, stronger, and more grateful for the life he had momentarily set aside for war.

"you may think a little strange that I should leave home and family with all there hallowed associations for the scenes of war and the battlefield but when I take into concideration [sic] that those associations with all that we hold dear . . . is worth living for." [1] 

But four years later - when that moment of triumph and return finally came - everything he'd left to fight for was gone.

The Homecoming of 1865: A Man with Nothing Left

Dupray had survived the war. He had done his duty. But when he returned home, the world he had fought to protect was no longer there. His wife, whom he left behind with thoughts of eventual reunion, was dead. His children were scattered, sent to live elsewhere. His home, once filled with warmth, was now empty.

His letter from August 1865 is not about triumph—it is about loss:

“O how hard to come to my home and find neither wife or children to greet me. My children scattered—one in one place and another in another—and my dear wife in her grave.” [1]

Gone was the optimism, the certainty, the faith that war would make him cherish life even more. Instead, he returned to a home that no longer felt like home.

“At first I felt as though I had nothing to live for and I wanted to lie down in the grave by her side.” [1]

A war that promised glory and purpose had left him neither. It had taken everything.

War’s True Cost: When Home Is No Longer Home

In 1861, Dupray told his sister that being away from his family would teach him to appreciate home even more.

But in 1865, he wrote about a different realization—one far more cruel:

“I considered that I had more, if possible, to live for than ever, as they had no protector but me.” [1]

His grief didn’t end him, because he couldn’t allow it to. His children, motherless and uprooted, had no one left but him. And so he picked up the broken pieces, stepped into a future he hadn’t expected, and carried on—not because he wanted to, but because he had no choice.

The war took everything from him, yet still demanded more.

The Bitter Irony of War

Dupray’s letters tell a story that history so often neglects—a story of soldiers who left home to fight, believing they were defending their family, their future, their legacy, only to return and find it already lost.

His words linger as a reminder that war does not simply take men to battle—it takes from them, even after the war has ended.

And sometimes, what is left behind is unrecognizable.

This was one of the millions of forgotten stories from the Irrepressible Conflict.

Mac

═══ ⚔ 𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒔 ⚑ ═══  

Works Cited

[1] "James S. Dupray letters to his sister Ruth Dupray Morgan, October 10, 1861 and August 30, 1865". University of Washington Libraries, Special Collections, Accession No. 0899-001. Retrieved May 13, 2025.