Buried Alive

Coins. Bullets. Buckles. Bayonets.

- Douglas Scott Clark Sturgis, Michigan

A Civil War relic hunter like me never knew what he’d find in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley. During the four years of bloody strife, from 1861 to 1865, the armies had clashed here repeatedly. On a crisp November morning I trekked a long-abandoned wagon trail across Stony Man Mountain, metal detector slung over my shoulder, homemade digger holstered at my side, my leather pouch hanging from a belt around my waist to hold any relics I might find. I hadn’t told anyone exactly where I was headed—we relic hunters don’t like to share—but I knew where I was going. A week before, I’d discovered the remains of a Confederate winter campsite. Now I was going back to examine it in detail. I turned off the wagon trail and cut across a small valley that would take me straight to it.

At the top of a ridge, I stumbled onto the remains of a dry-stacked stone foundation. My lucky day. I’m a stonemason by trade, and I know good work when I see it. This could end up a more lucrative spot than the winter campsite. I bent down to admire the craftsmanship of the fieldstone chimney. Built without any mortar. And it still mostly stands, more than a century and a half later.

I switched on my metal detector and passed it over the remains. Beep! A hit. Something was buried in the dirt. Something big. I chiseled at the ground with my digger. What was this thing, a musket barrel? Now, that would be a find! Finally I unearthed my prize…a long iron rod?