Remember… Marylanders were Southerners too!

But, before you break out in song with “Maryland, My Maryland,” just remember, the song does not reflect the feelings of all Marylanders in 1861. Many a Marylander can be classified as a Southern Unionist. With that in mind, I am going to redirect reader attention to a series of posts (begining with this one) on my main blog for a little while, where I am focusing on the unique story of Southern Unionism that existed in Maryland. I’m focusing, in particular, on a district in Washington County, Maryland.

In search of James Lee Gillespie

I’ve brought him up in two posts (here and here). Some people hit the road in search of the graves of ancestors (I do that from time to time as well), but I spent a little time one day in August, on my return from Kentucky, looking for the grave of a Southern Unionist who 1) intrigued me in my earliest research of Southern Unionists, and 2) regularly partnered with one of my ancestors in going about my home county warning of the folly of secession.

The graves of James Lee Gillespie and William H. Gillespie (James’ son) are in Sistersville, West Virginia.

 

“Turncoat Virginians”

When reviewing a Confederate unit history recently, I ran across a remark made by the contemporary author (not a person who actually lived during the Civil War) about the men of Samuel Means‘ Loudoun Rangers (see this link for an interesting history of the unit… strange to say, the author of this article also uses the word “turncoat” in reference to the Loudoun Rangers). The Loudoun Rangers were, for the most part, Virginans (at least Co. A… Co. B consisted of more Marylanders) from Loudoun County (and the surrounding area) who not only refused to buy into the idea of secession, but were members of a unit in the service of the Union army. Means’ unit was an example of what I consider Southern Unionism taken to the “nth” degree.

When we really take time to consider these Unionist Virginians, were they really “turncoats?”

Well… I have to say that the word “turncoat” is a poor choice. According to the Second College Edition of The American Heritage Dictionary, “turncoat” is defined as “One who traitorously switches allegiance.” At what time did these men switch allegiance? Virginia was a state of the United States… and when had these men, ever, sworn allegiance to Virginia? For that matter, when did they swear an allegiance to the United States? But, before I digress…

Since the men of the Loudoun Rangers did not wear Confederate uniforms before they donned the blue uniforms, the word “turncoat” doesn’t fit.

Maybe some Virginians who bought – lock, stock, and barrel – into the idea of secession and Confederacy, considered these Unionist Virginians as“turncoats,” because the Confederate-leaning Virginians saw things as state first, country second.

On the other hand, the Unionist Virginians of Means’ command probably saw the secessionist Virginians as turncoats, having turned against the United States… the Unionist seeing things as country first, state second.

Bottom line is that the word “turncoat” equates to “traitors.”

Before I go any further, let me be clear here… I’m not going to entertain any comments about the legality of secession, so please don’t submit any. Moving on…

If these dueling Virginians saw each other as traitors, then it was their perspective at the time of the war and I can’t possibly dispute how the two parties judged each other, but I can be suspicious of a contemporary author using the phrase “turncoat Virginians.”

First, I’ll give the author the benefit of the doubt. It may be that the wording is used to immerse the reader more in the mindset of the Confederates who are at the focal point of this work. (I’m personally a big fan of virtual reality in narrative design, but I’m not sure I’m buying it here). The book is a Confederate unit history and the Confederates (or some of them) may have seen the men of the Loudoun Rangers as turncoats against Virginia. Yet, there is no evidence (quotes from the Confederates as to their opinions of Means’ men) anywhere in the text of the book to show that the Confederate Virginians described the Unionist Virginians in blue as “turncoats.”

So, did the author go a little too far? Is this an indication of the author’s personal “sympathies” for the Confederates as well as an indication of a little animosity toward the Loudoun Rangers? Is this an indication that the work is about a “bushel” short of objectivity? Does the author inappropriately weave this sympathy into the history to invoke a sympathetic feeling in the readers for the Confederates and animosity for the Loudoun Rangers?

Unless I can ask the author specifically what his/her intent was in saying this, and because there is an absence of any quotes from the Confederates identifying the Rangers as “turncoats,” my first inclination is to suspect the author of failing in the delivery of objective history. At least it doesn’t appear to be history delivered in a manner for the reader to read, consider, evaluate, and form opinions on his/her own.

Some say that objectivity truly isn’t possible, but would you prefer lack of objectivity being transparent or opaque?

This post is dual posted in Cenantua’s Blog.

Black Southern Unionist… Union soldier… is recognized in Alabama

Kevin Levin got the jump on me but it’s o.k…. hat-tip to him (see Kevin’s post it here) about the story of Amos McKinney (1st Alabama Cavalry, USA) receiving a headstone recognizing his service.

To the Southern Unionist Union soldiers of Henderson Co., N.C.!

Thanks to Craig for letting me know about this monument! Click on the photo to read more from The Historical Markers Database page that focuses on this monument.

The State of Jones, by Sally Jenkins and John Stauffer: A Review, part one

By Victoria E. Bynum, author of The Free State of Jones (University of N.C. Press, 2001)
http://www.Renegadesouth.com

The State of Jones, by Sally Jenkins and John Stauffer (Doubleday, 2009), aims to please, delivering a stirring narrative, lively and passionate prose, and richly-detailed Civil War battle scenes. For many readers, particularly those drawn to Civil War battlefields, this book will make the past come alive. Others, particularly students of the “Free State of Jones,” will find problematical the authors’ stretching of the evidence to support highly exaggerated claims that Newt “fought for racial equality during the war and after,” and “forged bonds of alliance with blacks that were unmatched even by Northern abolitionists” (pp. 3-4).

The history that Jenkins and Stauffer re-tell is well-known to Mississippians and familiar to many southerners and Civil War historians. It is certainly well-known to regular readers of this blog, for whom Newt Knight needs no introduction. As we all know, from October 1863 until war’s end, Newt was the leader—the captain—of the Knight Company, a band of deserters and draft evaders who led an armed insurrection against the Confederacy.

In this version of an old story, readers are treated to vivid depictions of Corinth, Vicksburg, and Kennesaw Mountain, all battles in which the 7th battalion Mississippi Infantry (in which the majority of Knight Company members served) fought. The final two chapters of the book recount the tragic history of Mississippi Reconstruction, an era riddled with violence and marked by the rise of the Ku Klux Klan and white supremacist campaigns that brought an unrepentant slaveholding class back to power. The authors give special attention to carpetbag governor Adelbert Ames, from whom Newt Knight received several important political appointments, and redeemer governor Robert Lowry, the same Col. Lowry whom Newt battled during the war in the Leaf River swamps.

Stauffer and Jenkins also re-tell one of the most fascinating, if long-known, elements of Newt Knight’s history: his long and intimate relationship with Rachel, the former slave of his grandfather. After the war, Newt lived openly with Rachel and their numerous children, bestowing property and affection on white and multiracial kinfolk alike.

As I began writing this review of State of Jones, I quickly realized it would have to be written in installments, as I could never critique the book in one post. This then is the first installment of what will be an ongoing series of reviews and discussions of the book’s various themes, topics, and arguments. I hope the reviews will become interactive, with readers joining in to discuss what they like or don’t like about the book.

The obvious place to begin is by assessing the startling assertions by Jenkins and Stauffer that Newt Knight rivaled northern abolitionists in his views about slavery and that he forged “alliances” with slaves during the war. Due to a maddening endnote style, however, it is often difficult, sometimes impossible, to determine the source for a particular conclusion. Add to this the authors’ use of “parallel stories” to take fanciful journeys into what “might” have happened, or what Newt “likely” would have thought or done, and you have a narrative that allows readers to easily glide past what is documented history and what is pure conjecture (reminiscent of Ethel Knight’s Echo of the Black Horn, minus the racism ).

Take, for example, the authors’ argument that Newt was likely raised a Primitive Baptist whose religious devotion led him to condemn slavery. Such conjecture is based on a single statement by Newt’s son, Tom Knight, who published a biography of his father in 1946. But Tom never stated that his father was raised a Primitive Baptist, only that he joined the Zora Primitive Baptist Church around 1885-86 (p. 14). Newt Knight may well have hated slavery, but the only definitive statement to that effect appears in Anna Knight’s 1952 autobiography, Mississippi Girl.

A problem that runs throughout this book is the authors’ uncritical use of Tom Knight’s biography whenever it suits their purposes. If there’s one thing that past historians of the Free State of Jones have agreed upon (including myself, Rudy Leverett, and Kenneth Welch), it’s that Tom’s words must be used with great care. Quite simply, The Life and Activities of Captain Newton Knight is shot through with errors. Tom’s determination to present his father as a devout Christian (like Tom himself), a loving father, and a sincere defender of the United States government led him to take great liberties with his father’s life story.

Yet Tom’s biography of Newt is the only source cited for many of the authors’ narratives about the activities of Newt Knight, particularly for the era of Reconstruction, for which archival records (with the exception of Newt’s multiple petitions for compensation as a wartime defender of the Union) provide only tantalizing glimpses of Newt’s political activities after the war.

Heavy reliance on Tom’s uncorroborated stories creates a problem for the authors that they are loath to admit. That is, if you’re going to use one Tom Knight story, why not another? Tom Knight certainly never presented his father as any sort of abolitionist, religious or otherwise. He also shared the common racist views of his generation and was deeply ashamed of Newt’s interracial relationships. As I have argued elsewhere, Tom’s shame may have motivated his claim that his father killed a slave while still a boy, or, even more shockingly, that Newt was responsible during Reconstruction for the disappearance (suggestive of a lynching) of a “young negro man” who was “slipping around the white women’s houses after dark,” (p. 37). For obvious reasons, the authors ignore this story. Their careless use of this deeply-flawed source is a luxury they cannot afford in a book that claims to be “Civil War history at its finest.”

To support their assertion that Newt formed “alliances” with slaves during the war, Stauffer and Jenkins leap far beyond his collaborative relationship with Rachel Knight. The authors provide an imaginative tale of Newt’s likely alliance with slaves while on the run from Corinth without a shred of concrete evidence to back them up. Appearing in the space of five paragraphs, the phrases “a fugitive slave who might well have stopped Newton as he groped his way,” (p. 146); or, “Newton would have come across men like Octave Johnson,” (p. 146); or, “Johnson could have shown Newton how to lure the dogs,” (p. 147); and “Newton would have learned how to hunt in the swamps,” (p. 147) are purely conjectural, drawn from published memoirs such as Rev. John Hill Aughey’s 1888 Tupelo (Aughey was a documented southern abolitionist), and Solomon Northrup’s Twelve Years a Slave, neither of which have any direct connection with Newt Knight. One can only hope that readers will turn occasionally to the vaguely-written endnotes at the back of the book to see that no primary sources are used to support what amounts to a subtle attempt to impose a northern abolitionist persona on Newt Knight.

Coming up in future reviews of State of Jones: Was Newt Knight at Vicksburg? What was the nature of Newt’s relationships with Serena and Rachel? And more–stay tuned!

April 19, 1864 – Operations against Unionists in Marion County, Ala.

HEADQUARTERS DETACHMENT TEXAS BRIGADE,
Tuscaloosa, Ala., April 27, 1864.

CAPTAIN: I have the honor to report to Brigadier-General Armstrong, commanding division, that in obedience to orders from General Jackson I left Tuscaloosa on the morning of the 19th instant in command of detachments from the Sixth and Ninth Texas Cavalry Regiments (commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Ross and Major Bates, respectively), and Captain Lee’s squadron, from the Third Texas Cavalry, amounting in all to about 300 men. I proceeded according to instructions to operate against the tories, who were reported to be in open resistance in Marion County, Ala. On the route a small party of my men were fired into by a party of men dressed in Federal uniform. The tories immediately fled and were hotly pursued, but getting into the hills they made their escape. I learned on my return that one of these men was a captain in the Federal army, and down there on recruiting service. The others were tories belonging to the Yankee army and at home on furlough. When I reached Marion County I found that the reports in regard to the tories had been greatly exaggerated, and that there were none of them in open resistance. There are a great many deserters there in the woods and a good many of them are armed, and I learned that secret organizations existed among them, but saw no evidence of an open resistance.

In regard to the case of Captain Woodward, which I was ordered to investigate, I found the captain with an order to recruit and organize a battalion, given him by Colonel Patterson, commanding a brigade in General Roddey’s command, and a letter of instructions from the same, which I herewith transmit. Deeming his authority insufficient, I brought Captain Woodward and all of the men that he had with him in with me. Finding that I could not longer remain in Marion County, owing to the great scarcity of forage, after remaining two days I determined to report with my command at Tuscaloosa.

I captured a good many conscripts and deserters, and succeeded in reaching this place with about 50 men whom I found absent from their commands without proper authority.
Respectfully submitted.

DUD. W. JONES,
Colonel Ninth Texas Cavalry,
Comdg. Detachment Texas Brig., Jackson’s Cav. Div.
Capt. THOMAS B. SYKES,
Assistant Adjutant-General, Jackson’s Division.

From: O.R.– SERIES I–VOLUME XXXII/1 [S# 57]

Dealing with the Confederate threat to Southern Unionists in eastern Tennessee (1863)

GENERAL ORDER No. 4.
HDQRS. MIL. DIV. OF THE MISSISSIPPI,
In the Field, Chattanooga, Tenn.,
November 5, 1863.

The habit of raiding parties of rebel cavalry visiting towns, villages, and farms, where there are no Federal forces, and pillaging Union families, having become prevalent, department commanders will take immediate steps to abate the evil or make the loss by such raids fall upon secessionists and secession sympathizers of the neighborhood where such acts are committed.

For every act of violence to the person of an unarmed Union citizen, a secessionist will be arrested and held as hostage for the delivery of the offender.

For every dollar’s worth of property taken from such citizens or destroyed by raiders, an assessment will be made upon secessionists of the neighborhood and collected by the nearest military forces under the supervision of the commander thereof, and the amount thus collected paid over to the sufferers.

When such assessments cannot be collected in money, property useful to the Government may be taken at a fair valuation, and the amount paid in money by a disbursing officer of the Government, who will take such property upon his returns.

Wealthy secession citizens will be assessed in money and provisions for the support of Union refugees who have and may be driven from their homes and into our lines by the acts of those with whom such secession citizens are in sympathy.

All collections and payments under this order will be made through disbursing officers of the Government, whose accounts must show all money and property received under it and how disposed of.

By order of Maj. Gen. U. S. Grant.
T. S. BOWERS,
Assistant Adjutant-General.

A complicated picture of Unionists and their children

A few months back, I ran across this marker about the Heater family (at the Cedar Creek Battlefield/Middletown in the Shenandoah Valley) in the Historical Markers Database…

The marker mentions the fact that Caroline Heater was a Unionist… and a little more…

Although two of her sons died in Confederate service, Mrs. Heater, a native of Pennsylvania, was a Unionist and frequently provided shelter and supplies to the federals. Her loyalty was ultimately repaid by a 1901 federal grant for some wartime damages.

When I first read this, I thought it sounded rather like her sons may have been reluctant Confederates, but certain details in the service records suggest something else. It’s really not so surprising as I’ve seen it on more than one occasion where Unionist parents were at odds with the decisions of their sons who happened to cast their lots with the Confederacy… something worthy of deeper examination, no doubt, in a future post.

Nevertheless, by the time that the war rolled around, Caroline Heater was a widow. As the sign mentions, she had two sons. John was a resident of Middletown (though I’m not sure that he resided at the house with his mother) at the opening of the war, and he enlisted in Co. E, 7th Virginia Cavalry at Front Royal. He was listed as 5th sergeant by November 1861. Wounded at Patterson’s Creek, Virginia (West Virginia), he died of his wounds on 1/5/64 and was buried in the Stonewall Cemetery, Winchester.

The other son, Henry W. Heater, was a resident of Front Royal at the opening of the war and also enlisted in Co. E, 7th Virginia Cavalry, though he enlisted at Romney. He is listed as a 3rd corporal in November 1862, and a 2nd corporal by February 1864. Wounded at Funkstown, Md. on 7/7/63, he was detached on hospital duty in Staunton for several months in 1864. However, he was captured at Point of Rocks, Va. (Loudoun County) on 8/13/64, was paroled at Staunton, and was later “caught with arms and prowling about the country as a guerilla;” quite a difference between his sentiments and those of his mother. He was confined in Old Capitol Prison, 8/13/64. Following transfer to Ft. Delaware later that month, he died on March 18, 1865 of small pox and was buried at Finn’s Point Cemetery, New Jersey (though there is a headstone for him at the Stonewall Cemetery in Winchester.

I just wonder how many people look at the sign and assume that the sons, like their mother were Unionists, when they were far from it.

Click here to read more information about the marker.

James Morgan Valentine Testifies on Behalf of Newt Knight Before the U.S. Claims Commission

By Victoria E. Bynum

The following post expands upon the story of James Morgan Valentine, Newt Knight’s 1st Lt. in Mississippi’s “Free State of Jones,” posted last week on Renegade South, http://www.renegadesouth.wordpress.com. Like Hiram Levi Sumrall of my earlier post on this site, Valentine testified in 1890 and 1895 on behalf of Newt Knight’s claim for compensation for members of the Knight Company. A summary of Newt’s claim, below, is followed by excerpts and analysis of Valentine’s depositions.

For thirty years, Newt Knight, Captain of Mississippi’s most notorious band of deserters, the Knight Company of Jones County, pursued compensation from the federal government for himself and his company. Newt initiated his first claim in 1870, before the Southern Claims Commission had been established (RG 233, Box 15, HR 1810). That claim had long ago died in committee when Congress passed the Bowman Act in 1883, followed by the Tucker Act of 1887, which allowed individuals to resubmit rejected or tabled claims. With lawyers now representing his case, Newt renewed his efforts to win pay for his “soldiers.” Newt’s two final claims, #8013 and #8464, were eventually merged into one.

On November 20, 1890, fifty-year old James Morgan Valentine appeared before the Jones County Chancery Court to lend support to Newt Knight’s claim. The first question posed to him by the government’s lawyers was whether Newt Knight had “commanded a company of men known as Union men,” and whether they were “equipped as soldiers during the war and what part did they act as such?” Valentine replied that he knew Newt Knight to be the captain of a company, “armed and equipped,” that “acted in opposition to the rebel forces.”

To further questions, Valentine answered that the Knight Company had operated in Jones, Smith, Jasper, and Covington counties from October 13, 1863 until September 5, 1865, and that he had been with them “all the time except about a month while I was in prison.” Here, Valentine was referring to his capture by Col. Robert Lowry’s Confederate forces during its raid on Jones County. In his 1895 deposition, he specified that he was captured on April 16, 1864 and sent to Shubuta, MS, where he was imprisoned until June of that year. (Information included on Newt Knight’s roster of 1870 corroborates this.)

When asked if he engaged in any battles as part of the Knight company, Valentine replied that he participated in three, those of Saul’s Battery (Sal’s Battery), Tallahala, near Ellisville, and Knight’s Mill, the battle in which he was wounded and captured by Col. Lowry’s forces.

When asked whether the Knight Company was ever mustered into the Union Army, Valentine replied unequivocally, “They were not.” Despite that fact, he believed all the men remained loyal to the Union throughout the war. He reiterated this testimony in his second deposition of January 29, 1895.

In 1895, Valentine also testified that despite the company’s failure to become an official unit of the Union Army, it nonetheless had collaborated directly with Union forces. His examples, however, which lawyers were quick to note, occurred in July 1865, shortly after the war had ended. Valentine recalled that Lt. H. T. Elliott of the U.S. Army had ordered Newt Knight and his men to “seize and hold in possession certain cloth and wool in the hands of one Amos Deason” (Deason was Jones County’s Confederate representative to the state legislature), that the Knight Company had also captured a “stand of arms in the court house,” and turned them over to Capt. A. R. M. Smith of the federal army post at Ellisville in Jones County, and that U.S. Gen’l William McMillan had once supplied the company with rations. (All of these actions are verified by documents submitted to the government in 1870 by Newt Knight.)

When government lawyers asked Valentine whether these interactions occurred “after the Confederate armies had all been disbanded and returned to their homes,” Valentine replied, “I could not tell you sir whether they were all disbanded or no.” When reminded that Generals Lee and Johnston had surrendered in May, 1865, Valentine reminded the lawyers that “there were Ku Klux in this country after the surrender that we had to contend with.”

Valentine’s uncertainty about whether the war was truly over in July, 1865, reflected ongoing battles over power throughout the South, including in Jones County. That very month, Newt Knight and his supporters petitioned provisional Governor William Sharkey to overturn Jones County’s 1864 elections on grounds that local Unionists had been denied the vote. Pro-Confederate citizens soon retaliated against several appointments and elections of Unionists to office by successfully petitioning the Mississippi State Legislature to change the name of Jones County to Davis County (in honor of Jefferson Davis). Valentine’s testimony reflected his memory that, for Newt Knight, and the Knight Company, battles over local political power remained fierce in the aftermath of the Civil War.

NOTE: Newt Knight’s long struggle with the U.S. Court of Claims, as well as Jones County’s Reconstruction and New South political struggles, are analyzed in my forthcoming book, Southern Communities at War: Essays on Civil War Era Dissent and it’s Legacies, scheduled for release by the University of North Carolina Press in spring, 2010).