Phantom Cavalry Retreat
— By Patrick Burke —
On July 3, 1863, the third and final day of fighting in Gettysburg, Gen. James Ewell Brown “Jeb” Stuart’s Confederate cavalry attempted to drive a dagger into the backs of the unsuspecting Union soldiers. Most people think of Pickett’s Charge when they talk about the third day’s action, but what’s not so well known is the fact that Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee had devised a more complex strategy to win the battle and capture most of the Army of the Potomac in the process.
As part of Lee’s attack plan, Gen. Isaac Trimble’s North Carolinians would strike the left flank and part of the center of the Union line on Cemetery Ridge while Gen. George Pickett’s Virginians struck the center of the line. The extreme left and right flanks of the Confederate forces would demonstrate along their respective fronts to keep all of the Union forces focused away from the main thrust of the approaching rebels. Stuart was ordered to take his cavalry and strike the rear of the Union defenses, thereby disrupting their line of communications while Pickett and Trimble hammered them from the front.
Confederate Cavalry General J. E. B. Stuart, who attacked the extreme left of the Union line on the third and final day of the battle. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.
The plan was brilliant and aggressive, and it might have worked if it wasn’t for an observant Union Gen. David Gregg, who heard cannon fire and caught sight of a company of Confederate cavalry. He rode close enough to see that it was a lead element of a much larger force. Indeed, Stuart’s cavalry was heading toward the Third Pennsylvania Cavalry, which was set as a screen for the artillery reserve. Gregg quickly rode toward his commander’s headquarters to alert him of the situation and get more cavalry support. While doing so, he came across two regiments of Union Gen. George Armstrong Custer’s Michigan Brigade, which had recently been issued Spencer repeating rifles. These repeating rifles represented a significant tactical advantage during the Civil War, as they could fire twenty rounds per minute. Standard muzzle-loaders, on the other hand, could only fire two to three rounds per minute.
Custer was headed to the far left of the Union line as a screening force when Gregg approached and apprised him of the situation. At first Custer said he couldn’t waver from his orders, but Gregg assured Custer he would take full responsibility for the action if he would only divert his brigade to aid the Third Pennsylvania. Custer finally agreed and arrived on the field just in time to join the gallant charge.
As Confederate Gen. Fitzhugh Lee (nephew of Robert E. Lee) led the Confederate charge, the Third Pennsylvania Cavalry smacked into the center flank of the rebel cavalry, and Custer drove his cavalry directly at the front of the column of Confederate troopers. “Come on, you Wolverines!” Custer shouted. Seven hundred men fought at point-blank range with Spencer carbine rifles, pistols, and sabers. The Confederates were eventually overwhelmed and forced to retreat.
I decided to visit this part of the battlefield for the first time in July 2006 with American Battlefield Ghost Hunter’s Society team members Mike Hartness and John Burke. As the night progressed, a strange feeling came over John and me near the Michigan and Pennsylvania monuments. The energy was high and a sense of foreboding hung in the air. As we got closer to the Confederate positions, the energy began to feel muddy, more depressed than the normal “bring it on” energy I usually feel when confronted with Confederate spirits.
We stood by a road that splits the woods where Fitzhugh Lee initiated his charge and where the Confederate cannons were placed. The atmosphere was heavy, and we spoke in hushed tones—the rebel ghost soldiers obviously having a direct effect on us. As we walked along the road with the woods to our left (in a direction that would take us away from Custer’s Michigan Brigade), we heard the sounds of walking and movement in the woods. We immediately stopped and listened closely as the commotion continued. It sounded like men and horses walking.
Mike walked over to the edge of the woods as John and I looked on. The sound grew fainter and finally stopped abruptly. When Mike came back, I asked him if he saw anything. He said no, but heard the sounds very clearly—men and horses moving away from the battlefield. Had we just experienced a residual haunting, hearing the imprinted energies of the actions that took place after Stuart’s failed cavalry charge? Were the depressed feelings John and I felt those of the Confederates as they streamed back in defeat?
If you ever have the chance to go to the East Cavalry Field, you should do so. And when you’re hanging out at the Michigan monument, ask the Union soldiers what they thought of Custer and if he was a hard commander. You might be surprised by the reply you get!
Union Cavalry General George Armstrong Custer, who survived the Civil War but met his violent end at the Battle of Little Big Horn thirteen years later. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.
