I had a 3x great uncle who died at Chancellorsville. He was the family mystery, the 17 year old, youngest son, who stole his mama’s horse, rode off to war, and never returned. They received a word of mouth report after the war that he had been killed, it broke his mother’s heart. I grew up on the stories about him, told by my grandfather. The stories always ended with they know he fell but never knew where he rests. For my grandfather’s 98th birthday I found the missing uncle’s grave. He “rests” in the Confederate Cemetery in Fredericksburg.
It was a sweet and emotional thing to see his name on the marker, lay some flowers and say a prayer, after all that time. (I felt from all the stories I had heard that I knew him.) My grandfather cried when I gave him the pictures. He kept saying “there he is, you found him.”.
There were over 30,000 casualties at that battle. The park ranger who helped me locate him was surprised she could find it, since so many were unidentified and are in unmarked graves.
We also have a family connection to General Lee.
Most southerners were not slave owners. They fought to protect their families, land and neighbors from pillage and plunder. How many would stand by today and allow their homes, families and towns burned to the ground by an invading army?