A Reenactor’s Nightmare

Suzanne Marsh

I am a Confederate Civil War reenactor. My name is Tim Reid. What I am about to relate actually happened to me while doing a re-enactment of the Battle of Gettysburg on the second day of battle. The incident occurred at Devil’s Den, a very good name. Many a good boy lost his life there on July 2, 1863.

My company was dispatched to Devil’s Den, the place is haunted not just by Civil War deaths but by Native American hunting grounds and a bloody First Nation termed “The Battle of the Crows. Legend states that people once believed that the crevices between the boulders were home to an enormous snake. Our company began its climb up the boulders when everyone came to an abrupt halt. There, sunning itself in the morning sun was the biggest Eastern Diamondback Rattlesnake I have ever seen. Our captain decided it would be more prudent to wait until the snake slithered back into its den. This did not bode well. Was this Devil’s Den actually haunted? I thought to myself, ‘I wonder if a rattlesnake accounted for several deaths during the fighting at Devil’s Den.’ The rattlesnake finally slithered back into its den, located somewhere among the boulders we were defending. The captain motioned us to move out. I carried the Colors of Company G, Forty-Fourth Alabama. My name is H. Howard Sturgis.

The early morning dew was still on the grass, the fog was just lifting as we climbed the soft grey boulders of Devil’s Den. Our company planned to defend Devil’s Den for day two of the Battle of Gettysburg. I put the Colors in a slit in the rock, then began to eat hardtack and beef jerky. Most of the men were hungry from the hike up to the den. We could see the enemy at times, up toward the small rocky hill.

The captain pulled out his map, wondering why we were being placed here in the devilish place. The map showed the Devil’s Den and where we were to position ourselves. That being said, we soon discovered why we were placed here. The defense of our line depended upon securing the Devil’s Den and keeping it. During the early part of the day, Union troops were dispatched from the southern position on Cemetery Ridge to what the commanding general thought was a better position: the area of the wheatfield and peach orchard just north of it, and the Devil’s Den. Our company was ready for the Union soldiers to pounce on us at any moment; we were, as I stated, well hidden from stray mine balls and cannon fire.

The sights and sounds of the battlefield made me realize just how deadly that day was for both sides. I was observing the area near the wheat field when I saw a blue wave rushing toward us. I quickly motioned to one of the reenactors manning a cannon. He pulled the lanyard, and we savored the moment. The fighting commenced amid the rocks and boulders of Devil’s Den. The outcropping was later dubbed “Slaughter Pen” for obvious reasons. A small brook ran red with the blood of over 7900 soldiers, both the blue and the gray.

The Union held the Devil’s Den for a short while; during that time, General John Bell Hood, who was leading an attack, was severely wounded. We later found that he lost the use of his left arm. I caught sight of the general falling from his horse, Duke. He was taken to a field hospital; unfortunately, he never regained use of the arm. Losing a general like John Bell Hood, even for a short period of time, did not bode well with the troops.

Once again, we drove the Union soldiers from the Devil’s Den. We pinned down the Union movement on several fronts and occupied the area for the next twenty-two hours. We held good; our defense was solid. There were so many casualties, so much blood that ran, turning brooks red. One was not far from the Devil’s Den. I understand that the folks in the area called it Bloody Run, a name that remains today, one hundred and sixty years later.

Later that evening, we began a campfire as the temperature dropped; the day had been hot and humid. There was a slight breeze, and we began to sing Dixie as one of the men had brought a guitar and another a banjo. We sang loudly enough so the Union camp would hear us. Most of the reenactors were dog tired; there is so much planning that goes into these reenactments. I lay awake for a while snuggled in my bedroll, hoping that the rattlesnake did not return to where it had sunned itself earlier in the day. I don’t like snakes, especially venomous ones.

I finally dozed off when I thought I heard heavy footsteps. I thought: ‘I must be dreaming.’ I

pulled the blanket over my head, determined to go back to sleep. I did for about an hour, and once again I heard the heavy footsteps. This time, I sat bolt upright. I thought I saw something moving toward me. I had to be dreaming. Was that some type of spectral image? Who or what it was, it certainly did not belong here.

Reenactors are not allowed to use a computer or cell phone while reenacting. My cell phone was locked in my car about four miles from the site of the Devil’s Den. I thought of walking back there, but I knew I would not make it back in time for the final battle, being Pickett’s Charge. I thought about Pickett. Gettysburg was the high-water mark of the Confederacy, which I was reenacting. The total for those three days was 51,000 men.

I sat on my blanket thinking of those around me. Was the spectral image a soldier who had perished at the Devil’s Den? Anything is possible, I guess, but my encounter with the image was something entirely different.

The temperature dipped even further, and I looked up toward several of the large boulders. There

he was, a ragged soldier, with an old slouch hat. He stated, “What you seek is over there,” and he pointed toward a rocky edge. I ignored him, my imagination was working overtime.

The sun rose along with my company. We had held Devil’s Den, and I had seen a spectral figure. I had no intention of ever telling anyone what I thought I saw. Another one of my soldiers began talking about seeing a ghost last night.

Could we both have seen the ghost? I thought, ' at least I am not losing my mind.’