One of the biggest ‘hot-button topics’ circulating around the CW blogosphere lately has been the overlooked legacies of southern Unionists and/or disgruntled Secessionists. This subject remains relatively new in the annals of Civil War publishing and few historians (that I’m aware of) have deeply examined the cross-dynamic between those citizens who supported the Confederacy’s cause and their neighbors who didn’t. Even more forgotten is the stories of secession supporters in the North, loyalists to ‘the enemy’ so to speak.

Fortunately people like Robert H. Moore II have begun to do a considerable amount of research into these far too neglected topics. I found myself startled by the rampant political, spiritual, and social discontent of Fredericksburg’s citizens when researching primary sources for my book on the town’s historic churches and I am interested in the experiences of these ‘individualists’ in the post war era. The guts it took to go against popular opinion is a noble trait indeed no matter what side of the war you line up on. (Although I find myself siding with Virginia in most cases, I admire the courage of the southern Unionist. In a way they remind me of the early Christians who were an unwavering minority.)

While going through some files provided to me by my friends at the local NPS, I came upon this letter that clearly illustrates the experience of the southern Unionist and the level of discontent they had with their own state’s fight:

DESCRIPTION: Letter of Anna M. Armstrong to her sister, probably Hannah, May 23, 1864. Anna was the daughter of Benjamin and Ann Armstrong, residents at “Beechwood,” the Armstrong home (still standing) on Gordon Road. The house served as Ulysses S. Grant’s headquarters for several from May 12-14, 1864, during the Battle of Spotsylvania Court House. Anna and all her family were born in Delaware and were avowed Unionists, as this letter makes clear.

From the Delaware Republican, June 2, 1864
Life in Virginia

The following letter from a young Delaware girl residing near Fredericksburg, VA., dated Beechwood, May 23d, 1864, shows that the hardships to which the people of that section have been subjected.

Dear Sister—Once more I take my pen in hand to let you know we are well and still staying here, but that is all. You don’t know how lonesome we are since the U.S. Soldiers left. On Thursday night we went to bed completely worn out, and slept very soundly. On Friday morning when we got up the pickets were gone. We had just got some breakfast when we saw some of the rebels, they came on and one of them shot our dog; mother begged him not to do so, but it was no use. The rebel cavalry came soon after and Ewell’s Corps of infantry arrived in the evening and went on about half a mile, where they had a severe fight. They owned they got a complete whipping. They brought about 80 wounded back to our barn—the last one of whom got away to-day, much to our relief. On Friday there was a skirmish line thrown on around our house, and it was really laughable to see the graybacks walking up and throwing down their guns. They say they are starving and will not fight. They were trying to cut off a wagon-train, but thank God they did not succeed. If our house had been directly in range you would have seen us before now. They have got the cars running from the creek to Fredericksburg I heard to-day, and I hope you will come home soon, if you think you can be satisfied. Send us word before you come, and we will try to send for you. I tell you it is hard doing without a horse. I hope father got home safe. He just got away from here in time. They came and took the nurses from the hospital in about half an hour after he left. Mother begged them to leave them to take care of their own men, but they would not. You dont know what people they are; I wish the U.S. soldiers would let the rebel wounded stay on the battle field, they deserve nothing better. I could see every one of them shot before my eyes. There were six buried in our lot. I wish Gen. Lee and all his men were in the same condition. There was one buried this morning; I expect if you were here you would be afraid to go to the wagon house after hearing them groan so. I believe one can get used to anything. Our yard is almost covered with blood; you cannot pick up a piece of wood that is not completely wet with human gore. Do not faint or be afraid to come home when you read this letter. The little pig-pen is almost full of guns, so you can see if they hunt us we can shoot them. I must tell you what we have to pay for things here, flour is selling in town for $800 a barrel, bacon from $8 to $10 a pound, coffee $16, sugar $12, rice $1, and not much at these prices; calicoes $12 per yard. I do not know what muslin is now; I gave 50 cents for one pair of shoestrings; I will send you a sample of some dresses we got last summer and gave $8 a yard for them, and got them very cheap. I have got one home spun dress; it was a long time before I would wear it, but I had to come to it. I am afraid we will see no more of the U.S. boys; I wish they would camp on our place until the war is over, which it will soon be. The soldiers are getting dissatisfied and discouraged. I expect to hear of Richmond being taken soon.

A.M.A.