The next three blogs about Spangler’s Meadow, Pardee Field and Culp’s Hill are grouped together because they are adjacent to each other on the National Park Service battlefield tour route.

Of all the controversies surrounding the Battle fought at
Gettysburg, perhaps none is as widely argued as the failure of the Confederates
to exploit their victory on the first day by taking Culp’s Hill that evening.

Major General Richard S. Ewell, commander of the Confederate Second Corps, which confronted Culp’s Hill after the fighting on July 1, is blamed for his inaction and resultant Confederate defeat. In Gettysburg: Culp’s Hill & Cemetery Hill former National Park Service Chief Historian Harry W. Pfanz draws a masterful tracing of field conferences among Confederate high command, orders issued and assumptions made, that changed at least my mind upon whom the blame lies.

Pfanz was the Chief Historian just a few years before I
worked there, so I know of him by reputation. He was not writing about
Gettysburg from a desk in Washington—he lived in Gettysburg, and that is
evident in his intimate knowledge of the streets, alleys, hills and gullies in
and around Gettysburg. No doubt he’d heard for years what we all heard after
visitors were told of Ewell’s failure to take Culp’s Hill on the evening of
July 1: “What if Stonewall Jackson (whose Corps Ewell had inherited after
Jackson’s death) had been here at Gettysburg?”

The assumption was that Jackson would have swarmed over
Culp’s Hill and Cemetery Hill and driven the exhausted Union soldiers back upon
their approaching columns in the night, sowing panic and reaping victory during
the one day Battle of Gettysburg,
thus securing Southern Independence.

But Jackson was dead and Ewell had to make the decisions.

First there were Lee’s orders. In spite of subordinates like
Brigadier General John B. Gordon claiming—in the passion of battle—that he
could take Cemetery Hill before dark, Ewell was aware of Lee’s last command for
him to march his corps to Gettysburg. Ewell did, finished a battle he didn’t
start, (perhaps knowing Lee’s earlier wishes not to bring on a general
engagement until the army was concentrated), and wanted to await further orders
from Lee.

Those soon came, telling him (by Ewell’s recollection) to
attack if he could “do so to advantage.” Carefully separating the sources,
Pfanz states that Lee himself wrote in his after-action report that he told
Ewell to take the hill held by the enemy “if practicable,” but also to avoid a
“general engagement” until the rest of the army was on the Gettysburg scene.
Lee’s aide Major Walter Taylor, who delivered the information to Ewell, got the
impression that Ewell wanted to continue his attack.

Ewell met some of his officers in the Square (then called the
“Diamond” by locals) and one, Major General Jubal Early, stated that Major
General Edward Johnson’s Division (of Ewell’s Corps) should go to Culp’s Hill
and position itself there. A courier reported to Lee what had transpired during
the meeting and returned with instructions to Ewell to do what he deemed
appropriate and take the hill with the Cemetery on it if possible. Lee would
support the move with Major General A. P. Hill’s troops. Ewell started
preparations but paused them after further inspection, seeing Union batteries
blocking their assault lanes. He was considering the readiness of his troops
when an aide from Confederate troops on the York Pike reported a large body of
the enemy was approaching Ewell’s rear.

It dramatically demonstrates the confusion on the battlefield
at that moment. Even though victorious, the Confederate Army was disorganized
and the troops tired from marching and fighting all day. Their troop-strength
after the day’s casualties was a guess. There were no distinct battle lines yet
and the exact whereabouts of all the Union Corps was unknown.

There was no enemy out the York Pike, but the rumor was
enough to postpone preparations for a Confederate attack in the opposite
direction.

Johnson’s Division finally reached Gettysburg around 6:00 p.m. By then darkness was rapidly
approaching. (Keep in mind that time during the Civil War era was all kept
locally and there was no daylight savings time, so it may have been that
darkness was closing in on Gettysburg
by the time Johnson got into position.)

Ewell sent a couple of aides to reconnoiter Culp’s Hill. They
reached the summit with no enemy contact and saw the Union line forming before
them in the distance. They realized the importance of Confederate occupation of
the hill and returned to Ewell with the information. Ewell’s subordinates were
split on whether an advance should be made, and Early told Ewell that if he
didn’t take Culp’s Hill that evening, in his opinion, it would cost “ten
thousand men” to take it the next day.

According to one of the scouts, Ewell told Johnson to march
to Culp’s Hill and seize it if there were still no Yankees on it.

While Johnson was moving into position closer to Culp’s Hill,
General Lee arrived to speak with Ewell. He talked of the several courses
available to him as dusk fell and made no mention of an assault later that
evening. Lee returned to his headquarters. A later visit by Ewell to Lee’s
Headquarters left troop dispositions intact.

Ewell, back at his headquarters, sent an aide to General
Johnson to tell him to seize Culp’s Hill if he hadn’t done so already and
remain until Lee formed his plans for the next day. The aide found Johnson not in possession of Culp’s Hill, but
preparing for an attack the next morning. Johnson had sent scouts to inspect
the ground and they ran into a large Federal force now in place there. In
accordance with Ewell’s orders, with Yankees on the hill, Johnson stood down.

So, the failure to occupy Culp’s Hill by the Confederates was
caused by a series of events: discretionary orders, unsubstantiated rumors, and
that pesky sun going down.

Considering the circumstances, it is doubtful Stonewall
Jackson could have done any better.

The immediate results of Confederates not taking Culp’s Hill
on the evening of July 1, was that they lost an opportunity to disrupt the famous
Union “fishhook” line, the compact interior line dug in on the hills and ridges
that many historians believe was the key to the Federal victory.

The delay resulted in creating one of the areas on the
Gettysburg Battlefield that saw some of the longest fiercest fighting in the
battle.

Lee’s plan on July 2 was to attack both ends of the Union
line simultaneously, so that the advantage of the “interior” line of being able
to move troops quickly between the endangered ends was nullified. The attacks,
however, were not simultaneous. Longstreet’s afternoon fighting through the
Peach Orchard, Wheatfield, and Devil’s Den still failed to dislodge the
Federals from Little Round Top. Since the attack on Culp’s Hill was delayed,
some troops were pulled from there to bolster the other flank.

When Ewell began his attack in the evening, his men ran into
something strange: Union field fortifications abandoned, with knapsacks,
cooking equipment, personal effects just lying around. Suspicious of a trap,
they halted, never knowing they were within a few score yards of the vulnerable
Yankee rear echelons and retreat route. When scouts returned with the news,
they were followed by the Union troops returning to their breastworks and
fighting broke out lasting into the night, finally dying down, for one reason,
because the men could not tell at whom they were firing in the dark.

With the first glints of dawn, fighting erupted again and
lasted until just before noon, nearly eight more hours. At the end, the
Federals recaptured and continued to hold their positions.

The following Hidden
Haunted Hotspots are part of the Culp’s Hill battle.

Spangler’s Meadow

“Spangler’s Spring” is one of the landmarks on the
battlefield. Early guides used to tell the tale of how, when the fighting died
down in the area, men from north and south fraternized around the cool
refreshing waters of Spangler’s Spring.

Getting water there, yes. Fraternizing, no. The fighting was
too hot in the area of Abraham Spangler’s spring for hanging out with the enemy
like it was a summer picnic. The following accounts of the fighting at
Spangler’s Meadow, just a hundred yards or so from the spring, proves that.

Since daybreak, Spangler’s once-peaceful meadow to the east
of his spring had been contested ground with rebels picking off the
Massachusetts men posted there when they could. One that was shot and unable to
crawl back to his lines caught the merciful eye of one of his officers, Capt.
Thomas R. Robeson who took it upon himself to enter the kill-zone, pick the man
up in his arms, and carry him, under fire, back to the relative safety of their
position.

Around 10:00 a.m.,
the 2nd Massachusetts Infantry was in a wooded area south of
Spangler’s Spring when they received an order to attack Confederates on the
southern-most slope of Culp’s Hill near Spangler’s Spring. Their commander was
Lt. Col. Charles R. Mudge, only 24 years old, a Harvard grad and a veteran of
the infamous bloody cornfield at Antietam the fall before.

Peering from the woods, he could see that he would have to
cross 100 yards of open field before striking the Confederate lines bristling
behind stone walls, a pile of boulders and a rock ledge.

To his staff he said ominously that it was “murder but it was
the order.”

The New Englanders were joined by the heartland’s 27th
Indiana, the two regiments totaling about 650 men.

Across the open field from them were over 1,000 Confederates
including Smith’s all-Virginia Brigade and Steuart’s Brigade.

The Massachusetts men advanced first, angling more toward
Spangler’s Spring. At first they took only skirmisher’s fire until they got
closer to the rock walls and jumble of boulders at the bottom of the hill. They
halted and fired a volley to clear the pesky riflemen. They continued their
advance. Suddenly the boulders and stone wall exploded in fire and the right
flank seemed to just melt away, in the recollections of one participant.

In the Civil War, the term “Rally ‘round the flag” was more
than just the catchy lyrics to a popular song. The regimental colors were the
heart and soul of the unit and to follow the colors when everything below them
was enveloped in battle smoke, often meant life or death or being captured and
sent to a horrid prison-pen. Members of the color guard were chosen for their
courage and their height. They often paid for the conspicuousness. So it was
for the color guard of the 2nd Massachusetts.

In the first fifty yards the color-sergeant went down with a
mortal wound. The corporal grabbed the colors and was shot dead. Another
corporal was shot carrying the flag. Private Stephan A. Cody snatched the flag,
stood on a rock, and waved the flag defiantly at the rebels before they killed
him. The fifth man to carry the flag made it through the maelstrom.

Compassionate Captain Robeson did not; nor did young Colonel
Mudge, shot in the neck. Both died.

The 27th Indiana followed the 2nd
Massachusetts to their right, centered more on Mr. Spangler’s meadow and the
bristling rock wall on the other side of it. No sooner had they left the woods,
when Confederate fire hit them. As they crossed, the men soon realized that the
open field was swampy boggy ground. Their advance was slowed to a crawl as a
second Confederate volley from the boulders and wall hit them. Major Thomas F.
Colgrove, who was mounted, had a good view of the battle from his dangerous
perch. To him his right three companies seemed to be knocked down all at once.
According to Pfanz, others thought it looked like “the earth had opened and
swallowed the regiment.”

Whenever the Confederates stopped to load, the Hoosiers
advanced a few steps, fired, and stopped to re-load. The difference was, the
rebels were concealed behind rock walls and boulders; the Midwesterners were
standing in an open field.

Again, the conspicuous color guard became the target.

The color sergeant went down. So did the next six men to pick
up the flag. A small block monument in the middle of Spangler’s now peaceful
meadow, recalls their unwavering dedication to duty. Having done as much as
they could, the men of the 27th Indiana withdrew from the
blood-spattered meadow.

The soldiers from the Bay-State were not done yet. For ten
more minutes they went toe-to-toe, as Mudge’s replacement wrote later, “at the
shortest range I have ever seen two lines engaged at.”

Finally they retreated from the killing ground, not back to
their original position, but to the west and a stone wall on the south side of
the meadow.

The Confederates, for some reason, decided to launch a
counter-attack across the meadow, but they too found it a field of slaughter
and retreated. Spangler’s Meadow was left to the dead and dying.

The 2nd Massachusetts lost 22 killed in action or
mortally wounded and 112 wounded. Those figures account for over 40% of their
original strength, a large loss for the short fight.

The 27th Indiana lost 18 killed or mortally
wounded and 93 wounded, about 30% of the men who began the fight.

Directions to Spangler’s
Meadow: Baltimore Pike (Route 97) South. Turn left onto Colgrove Avenue. This
will take you to Spangler’s Spring and Spangler’s Meadow.

The area of Spangler’s Spring is the venue for one of the more famous ghostly legends of the post-battle era, which I wrote about in the first book of the Ghosts of Gettysburg series. On certain, usually hazy evenings, the figure of a woman—glowing in a distinctive bright light—can be seen roaming the fields around the spring. The “legend” has it that she was a jilted lover who committed suicide there—one more death in the fields so familiar with it.

Another story in Ghosts of Gettysburg II, comes from a Gettysburgian of the present era who, as a young rebellious teen, “ran away” from home one evening on his bike. Turning off the Baltimore Road, he pedaled toward Spangler’s Spring. Suddenly his eye was caught by a movement off to his left. He described it in later years as a “glowing, phosphorescent specter” moving, pausing, bending down as if looking for something—or someone—acting far too purposefully than a wind-borne mist.

The “Woman in White” as she has come to be known, has another incarnation other than the jilted lover from a misbegotten romance. I recount two more sightings of her in Ghosts of Gettysburg III: one at the site where she has always been seen, and one in a house just a few hundred yards from Spangler’s Spring, which had become a hospital for the wounded on the Baltimore Pike.

A man and his wife approached me after I had given a speech
saying that they thought the Woman in White, although long dead, “lived” in
their house. I arranged a paranormal investigation with one of the prominent
mediums we used. The house had a central stairway that led to the upstairs
hallway. Both husband and wife had seen a wispy woman dressed in white cross
the hallway at the top of the stairs. Their children had seen her as well and
gave the same description.

After nearly an hour and several impressions of other ghostly
beings in the house the woman of the house finally asked our medium, “Do you
get an impression of a woman dressed in white here?” The medium answered
immediately. “Yes. That’s the nun.”

It struck me that some of the first to come to Gettysburg
after the carnage, as volunteer nurses, were the Sisters of Charity from the
convent of St. Joseph in Emmitsburg, Maryland. As many as 40 nuns, with their
distinctive white-winged head-coverings, came to tend to the wounded. The
owners of the house said that their woman in white wasn’t a constant presence;
I opined that was because she was splitting her time between here and
Spangler’s Spring a couple hundred yards away.

Later in the chapter, I recounted the story told me by two
nurses—appropriate, don’t you think?—who contacted me and told me the story of
how they had toured the battlefield after dark and had parked at Spangler’s
Spring, laughing about the silly legends of ghosts at Gettysburg. But as they
watched, a small glow formed behind one of the trees in the jumble of boulders
near the parking area. Slowly it grew until it took the shape of a young woman.
Both saw it; one was mesmerized, the other scared nearly to death. Later they
each wrote down what they had seen—the descriptions matched: a woman in a long
dress with shoulder-length hair and a heart-shaped, lovely face.

It wasn’t until the next day they picked up a copy of Ghosts of Gettysburg and realized they
had witnessed materializing what others had seen over the decades—the Woman in
White of Spangler’s Spring.

For those paranormal investigators who seek EVPs, you may
want to try the names of some of the heroes who died in Abraham Spangler’s
meadow.

From the 2nd Massachusetts: Capt. Thomas R. Robeson.
From the color guard: Color Sergeant Levitt C. Durgin; Cpl. Rupert J. Sadler;
Pvt. Stephan A. Cody.

From the 27th Indiana: Lt. Col. Charles R. Mudge. You
may try to get the names of the men of the decimated color guard, as well.