DECEMBER'S GHOST OF FREDERICKSBURG

We moved into the Fredericksburg area after McClellan had been ordered to turn his command over to Ambrose Burnside on November 7, 1862. The army was huge and it was spread out all over the place along the Rappahannock River. The weather was windy and cold. There were no leaves left on the grand stately trees.

We would have to cross the Rappahannock to attack those Confederates of Lee’s. The Rappahannock's water was very cold. Some mornings you could see a little ice along its edges. They were sending pontoons to construct a bridge across this river so we could move our army across the Rappahannock. We waited and we waited. We were sitting there knowing Dooms Day was coming.

They did arrive and the bridge was put in place. I was one of the first to go over to hide and try to knock their sharpshooters from their perch before one could hit me. I was good at what I did and my Henry found its mark many times. I could see from where I was how many of my comrades had fallen. I could also see most of theirs.

There were chargers after charges made. They were not timed well because those Confederate boys were ready every time.

I didn’t know how much grueling time had passed but the sun had moved its direction. I felt something hard hit my head and I saw a body falling from my pine tree. There was no one in that tree but me. I wandered around the battlefield trying to hit some of our foe. My faithful Henry failed to work.

There were others blue and gray just wandering like me. I saw them but they didn’t seem to see me.

We watched while the battle closed. Burnside and the shattered army withdrew. So many, many were like me. The wagons took the wounded away. Would there be more like us? They buried the lifeless bodies lying on the bloody battlefield.

Later the winter snow came and covered the battlefield. It was such a peaceful scene. The scares of war were covered by the falling snow.

We are still wandering looking for what I don’t know.

A GHOSTLY PAST

My parents provided me with a great childhood that I didn’t realize when I was just a kid. I never gave my parents any trouble when I was a teenager but when I was a kid I was a free spirit. I was punished when I didn’t obey the rules. Many of their rules were places I wasn’t supposed to go. One of these was an old spooky graveyard a couple of blocks from our home. They were concerned that we might get hurt and not that we were fascinated with wispy ghosts. My Dad shared a lot of ghost stories that he had come across. I remember he was interested in a house in Paris, Kentucky where an apparition appeared most any time. I am sure that he knew the story about this house but he never shared it.
My Mom read with such expression and dialects were her specialties. I loved to hear her read “Little Orphant Annie” by James Whitcomb Riley. (and the wind goes wooooo) I still have her book, "The Complete Works Of James Whitcomb Riley.” Another favorite was from Robert Lewis Stevens’ “The Children’s Garden Of Verses” called “My Shadow.” (And I see him jump before me when I jumped into my bed) We always loved for her to tell ghost stories with us because her expressions could make us squirm.

Have a great scary day!