Spotsylvania Court House, Virginia, is located in a
densely wooded area known as the Wilderness, harboring a
small desolate thicket- Chancellorsville, with the
Rappahannock River located just a few miles south.
In the years of 1863- 1864, the massive, vicious Battles of
Chancellorsvile, Wilderness, and Cold Harbor raged through
these areas in the nations Civil War, the most bloodiest
war fought by the United Sates. The total casualties from
the battles that were fought around the region are
estimated that more than 58,600 Union soldiers laid dead or
dying, and the Confederate Army, about 50,000 men dead,
dying, or captured.
In the summer of 2003, nearing the end of July, I
decided to go and camp out in the area known as the
infamous Wilderness, as my annual plans to enjoy the
scenery, as well as studying the history of the area for my
first novel of this great war.
Packing my tent as usual, all gear and equipment loaded into the back of a beat- up,
rental SUV from a local neighborhood dealer, I arrived at
the site of the great battle shortly after morning, on
August 2, 2003.
The area hadn't changed over the years, although the countless trees, shrubs and thickets destroyed
by artillery fire, musket volleys, and burned to cinders by
the massive blazes ignited by exploding shells, had
regrown, now choking the old roads and weed locked pastures
with a very thick layer of organic vegetation.
As I proceeded to set up my large, cabin- style tent
in the middle of a clearing, located beside a small,
running brook, I happened to switch on a portable radio
system, and continued to work, hammering in posts,
unraveling the canvas, and building a fire site, as well as
unloading masses of other gear from the rear of the SUV, (a
Chevy Blazer 1996), despite the growing heat from the
midday sun, along with the mosquitoes whining about in the
dense overgrowth.
In the midst of a newscast on the radio,
an announcer had broke in, stating "....A severe
thunderstorm warning has been issued by the National
Weather Service for parts of Richmond, North Anna, and
Fredericksburg counties, along with a Tornado Watch issued
for portions of Sectors 105, and 107 located along
Yorktown. These warnings mean that the storms may pack
winds of up to 70 miles per hour, with large hail,
dangerous lightning, and the possibility of tornadoes in
the region. Please stay indoors if the weather should turn
severe......).
The report at first meant little to me, as the storms
are forecasted to arrive late in the night, besides, the
possibility of a large tornado striking a wooded area is
very slim.
The evening proceeded for me as a soothing,
relaxing experience, around a crackling cedar fire, which
sent clouds of dry, fragrant smoke into the clearing. I had
just came to realize that the section that I was camped on
is located right on the former "Salient", nicknamed
the "Bloody Angle", as most of the battle's bloodiest
combat had occured in the area, marked by a small, stone
fence, where the massive columns of the Union and
Confederate armies collided, firing into the opposing ranks
at almost point- blank range.
That night, a truly powerful thunderstorm struck most
parts of the Wilderness. I was fast asleep inside the open
tent when gusts of ferocious wind blew handfuls of
torrential rain into the interior, as I got up quickly to
zipper up the flaps of the tent, lightning flashed in
incessant beams, flooding the trees with constant flickers
of bright, blue-white light, accompanied by the ear
splitting blasts of thunder. Soaked wet, and wide awakened,
but thrilled, I sat up inside the tent, as the flooding
downpour continued to rage outside, propelled sideways by
the howling wind.
It was past 1:00 pm when the weird incidents started
to occur, as the storm continued to hammer and blast the
already drenched forest floor. The first thing I noticed
was that a brilliant blast of lightning has struck near the
campsite, accounted by the terrific explosion of noise that
followed. But most lightning flashes are a blue tinged
white, as the powerful electrical current is unleashed into
the ground, but this particular flash was fiery orange,
with massive spheres of burning red. Even inside the tent,
I felt the heat of the blast come overhead. Worried,
thinking that a fire must have been ignited, I opened the
shade to one of the sliding windows of the tent, and was
mystified, and surprised, as the thickets surrounding the
campsite was burning almost out of control. Despite the
incessant rain continuing to down from the heavens, flames
shot violently from the overgrowth, as clouds of acrid
smoke filled the landscape.
For a sudden moment, the ghastly cries of wounded and
dying men could be heard above the thunderous volleys of
rifle and artillery fire, the bright stabs of light coming
from the barrels of a thousand muskets being discharged,
were visible through swirling clouds of smoke, and rain, as
the ghostly blaze continued to burn out of control,
although I could feel it's intense heat nearly overwhelming
me. Suddenly, in the midst of the shadowy Union and
Confederate soldiers firing and dropping amongst the
burning thickets, there was a single, horrific shriek, as a
cannon shell plunged down from the sky and exploded near
the campsite. The searing wave of heat and the brilliant
flash of fire sent me dodging into the sides of the tent
flaps, unable to just take my eyes off the whole battle
scene.
To the west of the fierce fighting, I happened to spy
a single soldier, a Confederate infantryman, by the brim of
his hat, slouched along a tree, doing something with his
musket- loading it. For a split second, I thought the
figure raised his head and peered in my direction, but he
was actually looking toward the far end of the distant
hazel grove, raising his musket, taking aim.
The musket went off with a bright flash, and
something, perhaps someone, standing atop the distant
columns of Union troops, collapsed . As rapidly as the
scene unfolded, it ceased suddenly, the cries, screams, and
explosions of battle fading abruptly into the steady rhythm
of the falling rain.
For the rest of the night, I fell into an uneasy
sleep, unable to process the vivid images in my head.
The next morning surprised me even more than the
previous night, as I climbed out of the tent to survey the
scene. To my awe, and shock, the woods were just as it was
the day before, the storm had ceased, and the thick foliage
was still dripping with rain. However, as far as I could
see, there was not a single scorch mark in sight, or even
the odor of smoke and burning gunpowder, from the vicious
battle fought overnight. Despite the intensity of the
fighting, the trees remained intact, dotted with the
silvery glimmers of cobwebs on some branches, while the
wildflowers carpeting the forest floor swayed in the gentle
breeze following the thunderstorm.
By mid morning, I left the campsite for a short while,
heading into the nearest town of Fredericksburg, by the
side of the riverbank, a single man was fishing, casting
his line. He saw me, and spoke, "Hey fella, have you heard,
a tornado struck a dockyard near the river, leveling some
trees, n' destroying a couple of sailboats n' overturnin'
some folks' cars, but no one was injured".
"Tornado?", I found myself asking. "Yeah", the
fisherman replied. "Struck yesterday night, 'bout one in
the mornin', must have been a big F-3, but thank great Lord
no one was hurt, it just smashed through a small area"
Following this incident, I tried to put it off, by
reassuring myself I was hearing and seeing the force of a
tornado's near miss on the previous night, but what really
baffled my instincts, is when I drove the rental SUV home
the following week, and was packing my tent and sleeping
bag back into my closet, when I recongnized, an object,
buried neatly into the foam of the sleeping pad, was a
single fragment from an exploded shell.
I was thrilled, even mystified, as I realized I had
witnessed the ghostly Battle of the Wilderness, near the
fierce fighting of the Bloody Angle, where the Union
General John Sedgwick, commander of the 36th Pennsylvania
Infantry, was gunned down by the bullet of a Confederate
sniper, as he tried to rally his falling troops.
It was a brilliant experience, it might even add more vital
information on this turn- out- to- be great historical
novel.
Contact me here: xm29_29@yahoo.com
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