2014 06 09 The Confederate Cemetery at Lewisburg
Nance and I had been traveling the mountain roads of eastern West Virginia. We enjoyed magnificent views and wonderful state parks. On the last day of our trip, we found ourselves in Lewisburg, West Virginia. We had a nice breakfast at a small restaurant where we sat outdoors in the cool morning shade. Our dog, Brie, also benefited from our sumptuous repast.
After our meal, we decided to ride around town and see what would catch our attention. As we drove down a side street, Nance pointed out a sign that said ‘Civil War Cemetery’. Of course, I had to turn around and go back. We are both interested in cemeteries and history.
We found the cemetery on a wooded hillside. What I read on a historical marker saddened me greatly. In 1862, there had been a battle between Northern and Southern troops. It was a short battle with the Northern troops driving the Southern troops across the Greenbrier River. There were 95 casualties on the side of the South. The Northern commander, Col. Crook, refused to allow the citizens of Lewisburg to bury the dead soldiers. They were instead lain, unidentified, in a trench at Old Stone Presbyterian Church. Later, they were removed to another mass grave made into the shape of a Christian cross, still unidentified. This is where we found ourselves that morning..
Nance and I had been traveling the mountain roads of eastern West Virginia. We enjoyed magnificent views and wonderful state parks. On the last day of our trip, we found ourselves in Lewisburg, West Virginia. We had a nice breakfast at a small restaurant where we sat outdoors in the cool morning shade. Our dog, Brie, also benefited from our sumptuous repast.
After our meal, we decided to ride around town and see what would catch our attention. As we drove down a side street, Nance pointed out a sign that said ‘Civil War Cemetery’. Of course, I had to turn around and go back. We are both interested in cemeteries and history.
We found the cemetery on a wooded hillside. What I read on a historical marker saddened me greatly. In 1862, there had been a battle between Northern and Southern troops. It was a short battle with the Northern troops driving the Southern troops across the Greenbrier River. There were 95 casualties on the side of the South. The Northern commander, Col. Crook, refused to allow the citizens of Lewisburg to bury the dead soldiers. They were instead lain, unidentified, in a trench at Old Stone Presbyterian Church. Later, they were removed to another mass grave made into the shape of a Christian cross, still unidentified. This is where we found ourselves that morning..
As I stood before the mass grave, my sight began to shift and the Veil was lifted for me. There, on top of the mound, were approximately 15 soldiers standing at attention, facing in the same direction. I felt the energy of these men and the sorrow of being ‘stuck’ on this plane, unknown and still awaiting orders for over one hundred and fifty years. Although most souls move on in their Journey after death, some remain due to an intense attachment to this world. These soldiers were apparently dedicated to continuing the cause of the South. The despair of these men overwhelmed me and I began to cry. I told Nance about what I had seen and that I intended to do something about the situation.
I went to my car and began retrieving items from my ‘medicine bag’. Not stethoscope and pills, but real healing medicine. I got my rattle, feather, sage and abalone shell. I knelt at the base of the ‘cross’. I began to pray and rattle. Smoke rose from the burning sage. I called to the soldiers. I told them that their war was long over. There was no more need for them to be here. There were no more orders to be received. I called upon their Guides and ancestors to appear and guide them on to the next stage of their Journey.
I called on the soldiers to look up and see their loved ones waiting on them, to reach up and take the outstretched hands of their families. Slowly, one by one, each soldier reached up and grasped the hands of their departed loved ones. Wives, children, fathers and mothers gripped the hands of the long dead but not departed soldiers. As the last one left, I felt the outpouring of rejoicing among the reunited souls. I again broke into tears, tears of joy.
As a final step, I sealed the now empty mass grave energetically so that no soldier could be drawn back to their former unresting place. I circled the grounds clockwise with sage and prayers to heal the land of its wounds.
I repacked my medicine bag and Nance, Brie, and I were off to our next adventure.
Photography courtesy of Nance Corriveau.
As a final step, I sealed the now empty mass grave energetically so that no soldier could be drawn back to their former unresting place. I circled the grounds clockwise with sage and prayers to heal the land of its wounds.
I repacked my medicine bag and Nance, Brie, and I were off to our next adventure.
Photography courtesy of Nance Corriveau.
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