Lizzy’s Latest Paranormal Encounter with the Iron Brigade

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It was a brisk autumn day at the Antietam National Battlefield in Sharpsburg, MD on November 3, 2018.  After an afternoon of photo shooting around the main areas of the battlefield, we had one more heel/outfit combo to fit in before sunset.  It was a little after 5PM and we were not sure where to go next for the final photo shoot.  With sunlight quickly dissipating, we found a patch of road lined with historic fencing.  It was a lonely road save for a passing car or two; perfect for an impromptu photo shoot.

The contrast of the background and fencing perfectly complimented my plaid skirt, orange top, and orange Sam Edelman slingback pumps.  Unfortunately, the majority of the pictures did not come out to my liking.  The angles simply seemed off.  In retrospect, I think it was just difficult to photograph a below the knees skirt paired with a balloon sleeve top on my petite frame.

Noting my frustration, Dad (my photographer) suggested we move to a new location.  Our tapho hearts led us to the Antietam National Cemetery to finish the shoot.  It was nearing dusk as we entered the cemetery gates.  A gush of wind ushered us into the land of the dead as Old Simon, at the center, greeted us with his stony stare.

Old Simon as he is known to the Sharpsburg locals gazes home to the north.

 

This monument called, “The Private Soldier,” originated in Philadelphia, PA where it stood at the Centennial Exposition of 1876.  On his journey to Sharpsburg, MD, Old Simon had an accident and fell into the Potomac River.  Fortunately, he was rescued.  His journey continued on the C&O Canal and then he was rolled through the streets of Sharpsburg and into the cemetery.  

 

The cemetery was empty as we walked the pathway to the monument.  The stillness of rest only interrupted by our stride, our muted voices, and the rustle of leaves as the wind came and went as it pleased.  At the monument, we quickly got to work.  I posed in a seated position on the right side of the monument facing the setting sun.  Dad began snapping away and a moment later I witnessed something extraordinary.

I was staring at a line of headstones beyond a tree when my eyes caught sight of what appeared to be a silvery-gray cloud rising from the ground!  The cloud remained in a swirling motion above the ground and I just remember being transfixed and speechless.  I couldn’t even register what I was seeing in that moment.  I could only stare.  The cloud continued its swirling motion, growing in circumference, and enveloping the headstones within it.  And just as I was beginning to process the phenomenon, the swirling silvery-gray cloud chose a headstone as its ingress and disappeared into the slab.

Dad is convinced this shot captured my stunned reaction as I watched the silvery-gray cloud appear and then disappear. We have differing views on this, but Dad might be correct because this is not my typical expression.

 

I’m certain I blurted out something incoherent as I tried to articulate what I saw to my dad.  He had no doubt I saw what I saw given our close encounters with the paranormal in the past.  I just had never seen anything like THIS before and surprisingly, it was not scary.  In fact, I don’t think that cloud even noticed us.  In hindsight, I felt like a paranormal voyeur, an accidental witness if you will, of something private, of something special marching with purpose.

This was confirmed when we walked over to the area where the supernatural anomaly occurred.  When Dad realized we were in the Wisconsin section of the cemetery, he exclaimed, “They must be made of iron” echoing the words of Union General George B. McClellan.  Dad explained that these esteemed men were part of the illustrious Iron Brigade! 

This is the Iron Brigade’s insignia. The 2nd, 6th, and 7th Wisconsin and 19th Indiana Volunteer Infantry regiments made up the Iron Brigade.  After the Battle of Antietam, the 24th Michigan came in as reinforcements.    

The men of this brigade were fierce warriors identified by their unique attire.  They wore blue trousers to match their long frock coat.  To protect their shoes and pants from the elements, the soldiers also wore white canvas gaiters.  Topping off the smart look was a black hardee hat.  The hats were visible from afar and well known to the opposing Confederates who would shake their heads in dismay and declare: “Those damned black hats!”

Picture credit and more info on the Iron Brigade here.  The soldiers hated the white gaiters partly because they were hard to keep clean. They were so fed up with having to wear the leggings that someone put gaiters on the horse of the commanding officer, General John Gibbon, in protest. The next morning, Gibbon woke up to see the prank and was not amused.  He never forgot it either. At a reunion years after the Civil War he was still wondering about it and said something to the effect of: “I want to know who the bastard was who put those gaiters on my horse!”

The Iron Brigade fought with valor and purpose.  Many of the men made the ultimate sacrifice as their brigade suffered the highest percentage of casualties during the Civil War.  As I continue to dwell on this paranormal experience, I am thankful for their service.  Their arduous labor complete; their mission accomplished.  And in their eternal rest, their feet no longer touch the ground for they were granted angel wings to soar into eternity. 

“Not for themselves, but for their country.”

Lizzy’s Latest Note:  If you’re interested in a quick summary of the Battle of Antietam, check out my post on it here.

 

It was somewhere in this area that I saw the silvery-gray cloud. It could have been further up or further back…with all the headstones looking the same, it was hard to be precise.