Stones River National Battlefield
3501 Old Nashville Highway
Murfreesboro, Tennessee
N. B. I have briefly covered this battlefield in Part I of my coverage of US 41.
A Haunted Southern Book of Days–31 December
This article is a part of an occasional blog series highlighting Southern hauntings or high strangeness associated with specific days. For a complete listing, see “A Haunted Southern Book of Days.”
Soon Ah will be done with the troubles of the world!
–African American Spiritual
On New Year’s Eve 1862 just outside of Murfreesboro, Tennessee, soldiers rang in 1863 not with fireworks and celebrations, but with gun and cannon fire and the misery of battle. Here, at the West Fork of Stones River, two mighty armies clashed, with Union General William S. Rosecrans attempting to wrest control of Murfreesboro from Confederate forces under General Braxton Bragg.
Rosecrans, situated in Nashville, to the west of Murfreesboro, had been ordered by Union General in Chief Henry Halleck to seize the town, saying, “the Government demands action, and if you cannot respond to that demand some one else will be tried.” On the evening of December 30, both armies were poised to battle just outside the town. As darkness fell, the bands on both sides began playing their evening music with soldiers singing along from their tents and pallets. One of the bands struck up the song, “Home, Sweet Home,” and the other band ceased, then joined the familiar tune. Of this moment, a Confederate soldier mused in his journal, “Who knows how many hearts were bold next day by reason of that air?”
The opening Confederate salvos of the battle were fired at dawn catching many Union soldiers while they cooked breakfast. For three days, until 2 January, the armies would batter each other, making this battle perhaps the bloodiest as both sides endured more casualties than in any other of the war.
Lt. Col. Julius “Jules” Garesché, chief of staff to General Rosecrans, knew he had a Sword of Damocles hanging over his time here on earth. Perhaps he knew going into battle that he would soon be “done with the troubles of the world,” perhaps not, nevertheless he believed he had been presented with premonitions indicating that his end would be violent.
He spent much of this first day of battle at Rosecrans’ side directing troops on the battlefield. Garesché had known Rosecrans since their time at West Point together. While Rosecrans was notorious for his outspoken and brusque manner, he and his chief of staff had no quarrels.
Garesché was born Julio Pedro Garesché de Rocher in Havana, Cuba in 1821 to French parents. As Catholics, his parents sent him to study at the Jesuit Georgetown College (now Georgetown University) in the District of Columbia where he anglicized his name. He was appointed to attend West Point after his graduation, where he met Rosecrans, who was about two years younger than him. After being stationed unhappily in various posts, he served with distinction in the Mexican-American War (1846-48).
While in Newark, New Jersey, he organized the local St. Vincent de Paul Society and wrote ardently defending Catholic values. His activism was honored when he was named a Knight of St. Sylvester by Pope Pius IX. Wearing his religion on his sleeve, one of Rosecrans’ biographers described him as seeming, “without earthly ambition, half mystic, half saint; he denied himself reasonable comforts to help the poor…the Confederates considered him the ‘most gallant gentleman in the army.'” In fact, he led his military superior, Rosecrans, to become a Catholic.
Yet, Garesché believed he was bound to die in a violent manner. Some years before, he was tasked by his father with patrolling some land in Missouri removing squatters. His small group found a precariously situated cabin perched above the Missouri River and settled in for the evening. During the night, the waters washed away much of the ground underneath the cabin and the three men fled just moments before the structure crumbled into the river below. His brother, Frederick in training as a priest, augured that that incident was an omen that he would die violently. Other incidents and arguments with superiors cemented that sense of foreboding.
In May of 1861 while talking with an acquaintance about relatives who had joined the Confederate cause, Garesché damned these kin to hell. Confessing his sin to his brother, his brother prophesied that he would die in his first battle.
The morning of the battle found Garesché celebrating mass with his fellow soldiers before cannon fire signaled the battle beginning. Early that afternoon he found himself overseeing the violence along the Murfreesboro Pike near area called the Round Forest. A short time later, he was seen entering the grove of trees and dismounting to read from his prayer book. Within minutes, Garesché was dead.
As Confederate forces massed on nearby Wayne’s Hill covered the field with cannon fire, Rosecrans, his chief of staff, and two orderlies rode towards the railroad tracks to examine the scene. Noting the presence of the general on the field, Confederates took aim. A cannon ball whizzed past the general and struck his chief of staff in the head shearing off everything except for his lower jaw and parts of his beard. The mortal injury sprayed the surprised general with blood and brain matter. Garesché’s horse carried his rider’s body a short distance before he slid off.
An officer approached the general, splattered with his friend’s blood asking what he was doing, to which the dazed general muttered, “I am very sorry. We cannot help it, brave men die in battle. This battle must be won.”
Later that evening, Brigadier General William S. Hazen recovered his comrade’s body describing it in a later letter, “I saw but a headless trunk: an eddy of crimson foam had issued where the head should be. I at once recognized his figure, it lay so naturally, his right hand across his breast. As I approached, dismounted, and bent over him, the contraction of a muscle extended his hand slowly and slightly towards me. Taking hold of it, I found it warm and lifelike. Upon one of the fingers was the class ring, that (to me) beautiful talisman of our common school.”
Garesché’s body was transported to Washington, D.C. where he lies with his wife in Mount Olivet Cemetery.
Since those horrific days at Stones River, visitors, locals, and railroad employees have had experiences with what one local ghosthunter described as the “thousands of spirits” residing on the battlefield. Among them is the headless spirit of Julius Garesché astride his horse. According to a longtime park employee, “Garesché is the ‘star’ among all our reported sightings. We have a dramatic increase in tourists and inquiries each year as Halloween approaches.”
According to Allen Sircy’s 2020 Southern Ghost Stories: Murfreesboro: Spirits of Stones River, the stories of the headless horseman have become legendary in the area. He notes that some witnesses have heard the hoofbeats of a horse only to see the spirit nearby. Others have reported seeing a headless soldier pacing near the Round Forest or the National Cemetery located on the battlefield, perhaps Garesché sometimes returns without his mount?
One may wonder, in imagining his death, did Garesché imagine spending his afterlife as a specter on this notoriously haunted battlefield?
Sources
- Daniel, Larry J. Battle of Stones River: The Forgotten Conflict between the Confederate Army of Tennessee and the Union Army of the Cumberland. Baton Rouge, LA: Louisiana State University Press, 2012. eBook edition.
- Julius Peter Garesché. Catholic Encyclopedia at NewAdvent.org. Accessed 6 January 2024.
- Julius Peter Garesché. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed Accessed 6 January 2024.
- National Park Service. “The Battle of Stones River.” Stones River Battlefield, Tennessee. Accessed 6 January 2024.
- Pittard, Homer. “The Strange Death of Julius Peter Garesche.” LatinAmericanStudies.org. No date.
- Sircy, Allen. Southern Ghost Stories: Murfreesboro: Spirits of Stones River. Amazon Kindle, 2020. eBook.
- Whittle, Dan. “Part II: Ghostly Encounters.” Murfreesboro Post. 14 October 2013.