THE MOST HAUNTED BATTLEFIELD OF THE CIVIL WAR
by Vincent H Gaddis in Fate magazine
One of the places where ghostly battle reenactments have occurred is the most haunted battlefield of the American Civil War. The Battle of Cedar Creek in Virginia was a bitter one, especially for the South. On the morning of October 19, 1864, General Philip H. Sheridan's Army of the Shenandoah was camped on hills beside the creek. Sheridan himself was at Winchester on his way back from a conference in Washington. He had no idea that a Confederate force led by General Jubal Early had been marching day and night, existing on short rations, to deal the Union army a stunning blow.
Early's surprise attack came out of a chilly autumn fog. After one round of musketry, the camp was filled with shouting rebels. The Union soldiers not taken prisoner fled while their own artillery, now in Confederate hands, fired at them from behind. The starved Southerners, who had not eaten well for months, ignored their officers and fell upon the abundant food supplies in the storage tents. But their victory was short-lived. Sheridan woke to the ominous rumble of cannons. He quickly dressed, leaped into the saddle, and raced toward the battle. Thirty minutes later he met his leaderless, disorganized troops moving north in defeat. He successfully rallied his men, turned them around, and straightened his lines. As the Union forces advanced, the charging cavalry and infantry broke through the prolonged Confederate line in a dozen places. The rebels were broken up, scattered, and flung back up the valley, and the Shenandoah campaign ended in a triumph won from the shadow of defeat.
Here, where the Union exulted in victory and the Confederacy suffered the anguish of disaster, men knew the agony of pain and the shock of sudden death. The effects of violence and strong emotions linger at this place. From time to time sensitive souls can hear the clash of conflict, the call of bugles, the shouts of men, the whine of shots, and the distant booming of spectral cannons. In a nearby church that was used as a hospital, one can occasionally hear the cries and moans of the wounded. Especially disturbing are the screams of patients whose limbs were amputated without anesthetics. Very few survived this crude surgery. Sometimes after the sounds of suffering fade away, the music of a martial band plays. Perhaps it is a requiem for the shades of long-dead comrades.
