Confederate Gold and Silver

by Peter F. Warren

  “Lieutenant, I am Captain Judiah Francis of the Army of Northern Virginia. You have attacked my men and me; in doing so you have killed one of my men. Sir, you have done what you were charged to do, but we had no desire to fight you as we have far more important orders to complete. Despite your unprovoked attack, and because you are an officer of the United States Army, I will accept your word if you swear to me you will not attack us again. In return, we will provide you with the medical care your wounds need. If you do not give me your word, I shall let you die. After you are dead, I promise you we will not run if your men decide to attack us again; it is they who will die here today with you. Promise me your men will not attack us again and my men and I will ride away. There is no further need for anyone else to die here today; the decision is yours alone.”

  Lt. Kevin Casey, of the 1st Regiment Connecticut Volunteer Cavalry Unit, lay bleeding profusely from the gunshot wounds he had sustained to his upper chest. While he did not know if he would live or not without the promised medical care Francis offered to him, Casey had grown fond of living in this world and he immediately sought to prolong that experience. “Captain, I give you my word. No more attacks.” Francis then fulfilled his promise and had him treated as best as he could be. The sip of water Casey soon requested would become his last one as his wounds had been that severe. Soon he was dead.

  Just before Casey died, Francis walked to the edge of the woods and yelled to the Union troops, telling them their lieutenant had agreed to call off the attacks. As he did this, he knew Casey was dying, but he also knew he needed time to put some distance between his men and the remaining Union cavalry soldiers. As he yelled again, Francis sought to buy himself that time by playing a risky bluff. “Your lieutenant is being treated by my men. We are moving out soon, but I am leaving at least one man behind to care for your lieutenant. You can fetch him back in one hour’s time. Any earlier and we will shoot him dead.” As he turned back towards his men, he saw Casey was already dead. Francis knew the Union troops would now likely want to seek vengeance on his men for Casey’s death.

  “Men, we need to move out quick. I need a volunteer to help bide us some time so the rest of us can move out.” He was moved when the four Virginia sergeants did not hesitate, each stepped forward to volunteer. Before he could select one of them, Davis spoke up.

  “Captain, this here fight is on Virginia soil and I’ll be dammed if I’m gonna let somebody else fight our fight for us. I’ll stay behind and watch them Yankee boys. I’ll make sure y’all have time to get away.”

  Francis quickly gave Davis his instructions. “Get up to the tree line so them Yankee boys see you as we are moving out. After we leave, move in and about the trees so they can see you for another thirty minutes or so; then come join us.”

  “Don’t fret none about me, captain. I’ll be fine. It’s them dang Yankees who need to do some worrying, not me!” Davis took Casey’s revolver and stuck it in his waistband for some added protection. Davis had barely moved off to his position when the next issue was brought to Francis’ attention.

  “Captain, we got us another problem!”

  Francis turned to see Sgt. Banks pointing at Samuel. He was looking at the damaged wagon they had rescued after it had turned over when Sgt. James had been shot. Samuel watched as gold and silver coins from one of the damaged hidden compartments began to drop onto the ground through the wagon’s cracked floor boards. Samuel had hardly ever seen money in his lifetime, but now what he saw drop from the wagon seemed to be a fortune to him.

  Knowing he did not have time to repair the wagon, Francis ordered the coins to be thrown into an opened barrel of flour on another wagon. He had the rest of the wagon’s contents transferred to the other wagons. Then he ordered the wagon to be set on fire. “Hurry men, hurry! We need to get away from these Yankees!” As the men moved as fast as they could, Francis and Samuel hastily buried Sgt. James in a shallow grave amongst the pine trees where they had made a courageous stand against the Yankee cavalry charge. After they finished burying his body, Francis said a few quick words over his body and then they were on the move.

  Francis had thought for a brief moment of what to tell Samuel about the gold and silver coins, but soon decided not to tell him anything. Telling him about the money would accomplish nothing and doing so might upset his men even more as they had not been all that pleased to have him travelling with them, even if he had proved to be a good cook.

  With the damaged wagon set on fire so the Union troops could not put it to use, they moved out as fast as the other wagons would allow. Francis, joined by Sgt. Stine, rode at the rear as the wagons moved along, waiting for the Yankees to attack them again. As they rode along they soon could hear the shouts of Sgt. Davis as he raced towards them while riding low in his saddle. Davis was already ducking rifle shots from the pursuing Union cavalry who had found Lt. Casey dead.

  The wagons had been steadily moving through several large open fields when they were alerted by Davis’ warning calls. Reacting to the warning he heard from the fast approaching Davis, Francis tried to get the others organized into a defensive position behind a waist high stone wall which had once been part of a farmer’s field. As they moved towards the stone wall, Davis passed them at a full gallop, dismounting on the far side of the wall. As Francis and the others quickly moved in behind the stone wall, Davis took his first shot at the charging Union cavalry. Quickly the others prepared to do the same. As they did, they then heard gunshots off to their right and they turned to face the threat they had not seen approaching. To their relief, they quickly realized the shots were coming from a Confederate cavalry unit; a unit who was approaching their position at a fast gallop. The sight of the Confederate cavalry unit now caused the Union cavalry, already depleted by the loss of their commander, and others, to turn away and retreat. Briefly they were pursued by the rapidly advancing Confederate cavalry soldiers until a bugle call ordered the pursuit to end. Francis and his men now slumped to the ground against the stone wall to catch their breath. They would live to see another day.

  From his position, Francis watched as the Confederate cavalry called off their pursuit of what was left of the Union cavalry unit. Then he watched as the officer in charge started to ride up to where he had sat down on a large rock adjacent to the stone wall. As he sat there, Francis heard his men let out a large cheer for the cavalry soldiers who had saved them.

  Francis stood up and walked the few steps to greet his fellow officer. It was someone he had never met before. “Captain, you and your men are indeed a welcome sight. That group of Union cavalry had already charged us twice and they were getting ready to come at us again. We held them off the first two times, killing their lieutenant and a couple of others, but I am not sure how we would have done this time. Sir, we are in your debt.”

  “Captain, the pleasure is all ours. I am pleased we were close by to help you. My name is Captain Kenneth H. Kirschner of the North Carolina Second Cavalry Unit. This is my second in command, Lt. Robert Moniz, also a proud North Carolinian, his friends call him Bobby.”

  Standing next to the still mounted Captain Kirschner, Francis shook hands with both men. “Captain, again my thanks to Lt. Moniz, to your men, and to you for your timely arrival. My name is Captain Judiah Francis of the Army of Northern Virginia. My men and I are moving south towards Atlanta on orders from President Davis and General Lee.”

  Awkwardly, Francis then looked up at Lt. Moniz who was still mounted on his horse. He had just started to light a cigar when Francis spoke to him. “Lt. Moniz, with entirely no disrespect to you, may I have a moment with Captain Kirschner?” With a nod of the head, and then a salute, Moniz moved away so the two captains could speak privately.

  After dismounting, and after quickly checking on the status of his men, Kirschner joined Francis where he had again sat down on the large rock. As Kirschner took a drink from his canteen, Francis stared at him
as he spoke. “Captain, my men and I again are grateful for your help. I promise when my assignment is over with, I shall be pleased to advise President Davis and General Lee of the invaluable assistance you and your men have given to us today. However, on orders from both of those two men, I cannot tell you anything more about what we are doing. I can tell you if you are to challenge me on what my assignment is I am prepared to show you a letter from President Davis, one which authorizes my men and me to freely move about the South uncontested. It is my hope, as an officer of the Confederate army, that you will accept my word and will not formally challenge me as to what I am doing.” Francis paused for a moment as a loud noise momentarily got his attention. Looking back at Kirschner, he spoke again. “Captain, while I do not know what your orders are, I would be most grateful if you would give us an escort to Petersburg. We need to get to the railroad there and we cannot afford to encounter another skirmish with any other Yankee cavalry units.”

  Standing up from where he had sat, Kirschner was somewhat taken back by the forcefulness of how Francis had delivered his message to him regarding his assignment. Sensing Francis had indeed been selected for a special assignment by those men who now led the Confederacy; Kirschner knew they would have likely chosen someone like him, someone who was confident, bold, and perhaps someone who had a touch of arrogance or self-confidence about him. He decided he would not challenge Francis on his assignment. “Captain, if you tell me you have been selected by General Lee and President Davis for some type of assignment, I believe you. You do not have to justify your presence or your orders with me. As for my mission, I have orders to sweep the area northeast of Petersburg for Union cavalry who have been creating havoc with our railroad supply lines. We are returning to Petersburg in the morning for supplies. I would be most happy to provide you and your men with some assistance.”

  Pleased to learn what each other had to say, the two captains quickly shook hands. Without showing it, Francis also breathed a sigh of relief. He now knew he and his men would be much safer over the course of the next few days as they travelled with a well armed escort.

  That evening, as their men shared a dinner together, Kirschner and Francis, joined by Lt. Moniz, enjoyed their meal away from the others. As they ate, they shared their personal experiences from the war. Earlier when they talked, Kirschner had noticed Francis’ bandaged left hand. He had not asked him about it until now. “Judiah, it is easy to see this war has inflicted some type of injury upon you as your bandaged hand looks quite painful. I hope you are recovering well.”

  “I am doing much better now, thank you for asking. An unlucky shot fired by a Union soldier has cost me two of my fingers, but my injury is far less than what so many others have either lost or had to endure during this terrible war. My only real fear is how my mother will react when she sees my injury. I have not told her about it as I would rather wait and tell her in person than to have her worry about me after reading about my loss in a letter.”

  In short time the conversation turned to other topics, including Kirschner telling them what he hoped to do after the war. As Kirschner spoke of returning home, Francis repeatedly tried to clench his injured hand several times through the bandages he still wore. He tried to feel for the fingers which were no longer there. His thoughts were now of his injured hand and he only heard parts of what his new friend had said. Francis hoped he could soon remove the stitches and then learn how to use his hand all over again.

  ******

  Over the course of the three day ride to Petersburg, the two Confederate captains developed a quick friendship and a mutual respect for each other. For one of them it would be a friendship which would last in his memory for many years to come. For the other, the friendship would soon die with him.

  As they entered Petersburg, Francis and Kirschner both saw to the needs of their men. After Francis had secured passage on the next Richmond, Fredericksburg & Potomac train moving south, both men shared a meal together at the Petersburg Hotel before they parted company later in the afternoon. After they had eaten their meal, they walked back to the train station together. For a short spell they sat there, talking about the war and their families. Then wishing each other well, they promised they would meet again after the war. It was a promise they would not be able to keep.

  Summer, 2011

  11

  Filling In The Pieces.

  “I was too weak to defend, so I attacked.”

  General Robert E. Lee, CSA

  The long day had finally come to an end for Paul after he had told his story to both the Georgetown County Sheriff Department investigators and, reluctantly, several more times to the various media representatives who had gathered at the marina. Despite being physically and mentally tired from the strain of the past two days, he called Donna on her cell phone during her ride home from work. They were able to spend a couple of quiet moments together when she stopped at the marina to witness the sideshow which was occurring there. She was amazed at the commotion Paul’s discovery had caused.

  As they had stood off to the side of the marina talking for a few minutes, Donna asked Paul if he had told Bobby Ray about the gold coins he found. Taking a moment to walk her to the back of her car so they could have some privacy, he reached into his pants pocket and showed her the five gold coins he had found earlier in the day. “Do you mean these gold coins or the gold coins I found yesterday?” He was grinning as he watched her open her eyes wide at the sight of the additional gold coins he had found. Donna did not say a word, electing to just stare at them as he held the coins in his hands. “To answer your question, no I have not, nor am I going to tell him about them. At least not yet I’m not.”

  As they talked, Bobby Ray walked over to where they were standing in the parking lot. While he had spoken to Donna on the phone, it was the first time they had seen each other since she had moved to South Carolina. Bobby Ray gave her a quick kiss and a long hug. She was pleased to see Bobby Ray, even if it was for a brief few minutes, and she laughed when he joked about her living with an old retired guy. After only a few minutes of talking, Bobby Ray began to walk back to the boat launch so he could get back to work. As he did, they told each other they were looking forward to getting together for dinner on Friday night. “Try to find a new date if ya can, I’m already tired of seeing this guy.” Bobby Ray’s joke made both of them laugh and Donna waved a quick goodbye to him as he walked back to where the Georgetown County Sheriff’s Crime Van was parked. It was where Sheriff Renda was conducting yet another interview. This time it was with a reporter from the Georgetown Times.

  After Donna left, Paul answered a few more questions for Bobby Ray’s partners regarding his initial find of the bayonet and the soldier’s clothing. He also spent a few more minutes with the media, answering the same questions he had already answered several times earlier in the day. Finished answering questions, Paul walked over to the Wacca Wache marina’s small restaurant, The Waterway Cafe, for a couple of cold beers.

  Paul barely had time to get inside the door to the small restaurant when he was loudly greeted by the bartender. “Hey, ain’t you the guy who found the dead Confederate soldier? You’re him, ain’t you? Hey, my name is Jed, but my friends call me Bubba.” Bubba, the marina’s part-time bartender, looked to Paul like a stereotypical Southern Bubba should. He was a big man in not only his height, but in his weight as well. His shiny bald head seemed to reflect the light from the various lighted beer signs hanging on the wall behind the bar. As he moved back and forth behind the small wooden bar, Paul could see the reflections as they bounced off of Bubba’s shiny head. He noticed Bubba’s once white tee shirt was now stained with grease from the burgers he had either cooked or eaten during the day.

  “Whatcha drinking? Charlie told me if you stopped in your drinks were on him. Them TV folks, and them reporters, they’ve been buying sodas, snacks, and burgers all afternoon. Charlie is real appreciative of what you’v
e found, and for all the business y’all have given him today, so he’s buying your drinks. What can I get for you, buddy?”

  “Two Coors Light please. No glass.”

  As Bubba walked to the nearby cooler to fetch his two beers, Paul let out a sarcastic chuckle. “What a great day for South Carolina! A Civil War soldier is finally coming home to be buried, a sheriff is posturing for votes in front of the television cameras, and I am being offered free beer for finding the soldier. Obviously the owner of this place cares more about making a few bucks than he does about the historical event that is unfolding outside his joint.” Thirsty from the long hot afternoon, Paul quickly drained the first cold beer as he sat down on a stool by the restaurant’s side window. His seat by the window gave him a view of the marina’s parking lot and of all of the activity occurring there. He could see several news reporters frantically running around as they prepared the finishing touches to their news stories before they went live with their broadcasts from the parking lot. “What a zoo this is turning out to be!” Finishing off his second beer, he threw a few bucks down on the bar and walked outside. As he did, Bubba quickly followed him outside. In his left hand he was holding the money Paul had left on the bar. “Hey, mister, I told ya Charlie was buying your drinks for y’all.” Walking to his truck, Paul did not give a look back at Bubba. He was not interested in capitalizing on his new and unsought fame by quaffing a couple of free beers.