The Mississippi
Boys Join In
— By Patrick Burke —
It was late in September 2004 when my team was asked to take a group of investigators to Gettysburg. They wanted to see some hot spots where we had experienced paranormal phenomena on previous investigations. I took a small group to the Copse of Trees on Cemetery Ridge, just behind the stone wall where Confederate Gen. Lewis Armistead crossed over during Trimble/Pickett’s Charge. After I was done with this guided walkthrough, I decided to visit the site of the William Bliss Farmhouse and Barn, which stood in the no-man’s land between the Confederate forces on Seminary Ridge and the Union army on Cemetery Ridge. On the evening after the first day’s battle, Union sharpshooters moved into the Bliss Farm House and Barn. The next morning, General Posey’s Mississippi troops were sent to drive the Yankees out. This resulted in the Bliss Farm being the subject of fierce fighting on both the second and third days of the battle and was the perfect place for sharpshooters on both sides to harass their enemy. It was also the site of a great controversy.
Union Commanding General George Meade’s headquarters was on Cemetery Ridge, where Confederate forces focused the brunt of their attack on the third day of the battle. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.
I wanted to get a head start, so I told the group I would meet them at the Bliss Farm. At approximately nine p.m., I began my short drive to Seminary Ridge. The night was cool and I could see my breath in the chilly air. A scattering of clouds danced with the moon. I pulled over to the side of the road near where Confederate Gen. Carnot Posey’s Mississippi Brigade started their attack on July 2, 1863. I turned off the car lights and stepped into the pitch black of night. I stood there for several minutes acclimating to the night sounds and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. I felt as if I was being watched, which is something I’ve experienced many times before during battlefield investigations. I quietly said “hello” and poured some water for any thirsty souls who might be present.
I crossed the road toward the open fields of the Bliss Farm and wondered what it must have been like for Posey and his men during the battle. Posey’s brigade was composed of four Mississippi regiments of infantry, and formed part of Gen. Richard Anderson’s division of Gen. A. P. Hill’s Third Corps. The brigade assisted in the attack against the Union positions along Cemetery Ridge and toward the heights of Little Round Top and the Devil’s Den on July 2.
On that day, a Union skirmish line held the Bliss Farmhouse and Barn, but Posey’s brigade attacked and took hold of the buildings for a short time until Union reinforcements forced them to retreat. The Mississippians re-formed and drove the Union troopers out of the farmhouse and barn, but instead of advancing and supporting Gen. Ambrose Wright’s Georgia Brigade on their right, they stayed and held the buildings. The controversy as to whether Posey had orders to hold his position or advance to Cemetery Ridge and help Wright remains unsettled today.
In The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Wright reported:
We were now within less than 100 yards of the crest of the heights, which were lined with artillery, supported by a strong line of infantry, under protection from a stone fence. My men, by a well-directed fire, soon drove the cannoneers from their guns, and, leaping over the fence, charged up the top of the crest, and drove the enemy’s infantry into a rocky gorge on the eastern slope of the heights, and some 80 or 100 yards in rear of the enemy’s batteries. We were now complete masters of the field, having gained the key, as it were, of the enemy’s whole line.
Wright could have maintained the heights on Cemetery Ridge, changing the complexity of the battle dramatically, but through some strange twist of fate he wasn’t supported in his advance. He continued in his report:
Unfortunately, just as we had carried the enemy’s last and strongest position, it was discovered that the brigade on our right had not only not advanced across the turnpike, but had actually given way and was rapidly falling back to the rear, while on our left we were entirely unprotected, the brigade ordered to our support having failed to advance … I have not the slightest doubt but that I should have been able to have maintained my position on the heights, and secured the captured artillery, if there had been a protecting force on my left, or if the brigade on my right had not been forced to retire.
Perception is relative. From Wright’s point of view, he was let down by Posey and other Confederate forces, but what about Posey’s perception of the facts? If he did, in fact, receive orders to hold the Bliss Farm, he would have obeyed those orders and felt an immense amount of pride in doing so. Although Posey did send several regiments forward at different times, he never advanced in force, which was the original concept and plan that Lee put forth. Two of Posey’s regiments, the Nineteenth and Forty-Eighth Mississippi, did advance forward with Wright’s brigade all the way to Brian’s Barn near Ziegler’s Grove, but they were told by an officer to fall back, not once, but three times.
Unfortunately, conflicting recollections and the passage of time have clouded what happened on that day. Some historians, and the people who read specific accounts like Wright’s above, will always believe that Posey’s brigade somehow failed in their duty, which isn’t fair to the brave Mississippians who fought so hard to secure this strategic patch of land.
After I offered up some water to the thirsty troops, I stepped over the rock wall and into the open field toward the Bliss Farm. Suddenly, the feeling of extreme hunger struck me. “Odd,” I thought to myself. “I just ate a satisfying meal at the Lincoln Diner.” Could I be having an interactive experience with one of Posey’s men? I knew that the troops had not had a hot meal that day.
I entered the field just as the moon broke through some clouds and bathed the field in front of me in moonlight. “Well boys,” I said aloud in a Southern drawl, “I’ll be stepping off now to the farm ahead; you can join me if you’ve a mind to.” As soon as I started walking, a rush of energy hit me violently—apprehension, anticipation, fear, and determination all mingled together in a tidal wave of emotion.
This makes a person wonder how they might react in a battlefield situation. I began to pick up my pace, feeling the need to gain the cover of the farmhouse as quickly as possible. Off to my right, I heard several men walking; seconds later, the same sounds came from my left. Was this a residual haunting or a genuine, live interaction? Ghosts react to our energy, and there are many times when we walk into a room or area and set off a genuine haunting experience. It was almost 800 yards to the remains of the Bliss farmhouse and another 200 yards to where the barn used to be. The ghost soldiers continued to walk with me until I saw the LED flashlight of one of my team members pointed in my direction. Before I headed back toward the group, I stopped and said thank you to the Mississippi boys for their company, and bid them farewell.
I can only wonder if some of the fallen soldiers from Posey’s brigade still walk the fields in and around the Bliss Farm area, waiting to be vindicated from any controversies related to their actions on July 2, 1863, when the chaos and confusion of battle often prevailed over objective thinking.
