Confederate Gold and Silver

by Peter F. Warren

  After finally getting home, and after filling Donna in with the rest of the details of the day over dinner, including finding the soldier’s watch, Paul closed the plantation style shutters in their kitchen as she cleaned up. After spreading a couple of bath towels over the kitchen table, he went into the garage and gathered up the tools he thought he would need. After placing the tools on the table, he walked back to the garage one more time, returning with the two bottles he had found in the soldier’s clothing. Then he went to find his camera equipment that he had temporarily stored in one of the guest bedrooms.

  After setting up the camera equipment, Paul described each bottle in detail to Donna so she could write down the descriptions on a yellow legal pad. He wanted a description of each bottle for both posterity reasons and in the event they broke as he was trying to open them. When they finished that task, he held each bottle up so she could take digital pictures of all sides of the bottles with their Nikon camera. Paul had also placed his Sony camcorder on a tripod next to the kitchen table. After giving a brief introduction, including the date and time, he allowed the Maxwell eight millimeter tape to record what occurred as he handled the bottles. He had learned redundancy was something that often had proved to be important when processing crime scenes during his career as a state trooper; now they took both still photos and a video recording of the bottles for similar reasons. He did not want a photograph or an angle for a photo to be lost if he needed to show his findings to others. Paul knew he soon might be doing just that.

  First they started with the pint sized flask style bottle that was brownish in color. As Paul closely looked at the bottle he noticed it had a double ring around the neck’s opening, one apparently designed to originally seal the bottle. He made sure Donna included that in her description of the bottle. Using a soft soapy sponge, he carefully wiped away some of the accumulated grime on the bottle’s exterior. As this was being done, he could hear the faint whirl of the tape in the camcorder as it recorded his actions. With the bottle somewhat cleaned off, he noticed one exterior side had been embossed with an eagle on it. Inspecting the bottom of the bottle he saw it had been made by the Willington Glass Company, in West Willington, Connecticut. “Well, I’ll be. Hon, this bottle, it was made back home in Connecticut. This is getting weirder by the moment!” Paul then took notice of the interior portion of the bottle’s neck. He described to Donna the apparent partial remains of some kind of cloth that had been likely used to replace the bottle’s missing cork many years ago. For now he let the piece of cloth remain in the neck of the bottle.

  After he had finished inspecting the first bottle, and after making sure the camcorder was still recording their efforts, Paul inspected the second bottle, describing it in detail to Donna as he had done with the first one. The second bottle was slightly larger than the first one and had what appeared to be the original cork still stuck in the neck. Further describing the bottle to her as being bluish green in color, he estimated it likely had also held about a pint of liquid at one time. As he slowly cleaned the exterior of the second bottle, he was careful not to get any water inside of it. With the exterior now much cleaner, he saw the bottle had raised lettering on both sides, as well as the raised outlines of two faces, one on each side. Cleaning the bottle off even more, he quickly recognized the first person to be George Washington. Under the outline of Washington’s face was the wording ‘Father of our Country’. Turning the bottle over, he did not immediately recognize the second face, but after reading the inscription under it, ‘General Taylor Never Surrenders’, he then believed it to be a likeness of General Zachary Taylor, who he remembered as being one of the country’s earliest presidents. Looking at the bottom of the second bottle, while holding a magnifying glass in his left hand, he could see the bottle had been made by the Dyottville Glass Works, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. “Donna, why would a Confederate soldier have two bottles made in the North on his person? Did the South not have companies that made bottles? I wonder why he kept these in his blouse? Kind of strange, no?”

  “Can’t help you with that. You know more about that stuff than I do.”

  Donna had put her pen down and was looking at the first bottle they had inspected. “If these bottles are that old, and were found within the clothing of a dead Confederate soldier, they have to be worth something, right?”

  Paul could now see that both bottles had accumulated some grime and dirt inside of them. He paused from his inspection of the bottles to think about what Donna had just asked him. “They likely are worth something to someone who collects old bottles, but your guess is as good as mine. One thing for sure, we need to Google the names of these glass companies later and see what we can find.”

  With the exteriors of the bottles now cleaner, and despite the thin layer of grime which coated the interiors of both bottles, Paul alternated between using his kitchen ceiling lights and a flashlight as he held each one up in the light to see what was inside of them. He could not tell for sure, but it looked as if each bottle appeared to have some type of rolled up papers inside of them. As he focused on the papers inside the bottles, Paul muttered a thought out loud. It was one he did not expect Donna to answer. “Tell me how to get these papers out as they sure are not going to come out the same way they went in without me ripping them to pieces?”

  “I don’t know. Why don’t you try to drill them out if you just don’t want to break the bottles?”

  At first Paul gave Donna a sarcastic look. He was about to say something smart to her for what he had first perceived to be a ridiculous idea, but before he could say something to her he caught himself. He thought for a moment about what she had just said to him. “Perhaps I could drill a few small holes in the bottom of the bottles, perhaps forming a small rectangle and then I could tap that piece of glass out. If it works I would at least save the rest of the two bottles.”

  It took several minutes to find the still packed box which contained some of his tools, but he soon did and he plugged his Black and Decker drill into an extension cord in the garage. As he did this, Donna carried the bottles into the garage and placed them on the folding table Paul had previously used when he first had found the bottles and the other items. After searching through the box of drill bits he had, Paul selected a very fine masonry drill bit to try drilling the bottoms of the bottles with. Before he started on the bottles, he moved his video camera into the garage so he could film what he was trying to attempt with the bottles. As he set-up the video camera, Donna retrieved their digital camera from the kitchen so she could take some additional photos as the bottles were being drilled.

  “You know I have never tried drilling holes in glass before. This may not work, but what the hell, if it does it does, and if doesn’t it doesn’t. Either way we will find out what’s inside the bottles. They probably just have a note inside of them telling us a genie will soon appear to grant us three wishes.” Donna rolled her eyes at Paul’s weak attempt at humor.

  Wrapping the first bottle in a towel so only the bottom was exposed, Paul placed it between his knees as he sat on a stool. He hoped the towel would protect his legs from being cut if one of the bottles broke while he was drilling them. Proceeding very slowly, and using the drill at a low speed, he began drilling a hole in the bottom of the first bottle. As he did, Donna made sure the camcorder was recording properly. Satisfied the camcorder was functioning properly, she began taking a few more digital photos, hoping at the same time not to see either the drill or broken glass pierce her husband’s legs.

  When the drill bit went through the bottom for the first time, Paul expected to see the bottle break, but surprisingly it did not. Over the next hour he carefully drilled and chipped a series of holes close to each other in the bottoms of both bottles, holes which formed small crude rectangles in each bottle. Finished drilling the last hole, he placed the drill and the safety glasses he had been wearing on the garage floor next to the table. With his ri
ght thumb wrapped up in the towel, he then pressed against the drilled out section of the first bottle, hoping the glass would break and fall into the bottle. It did not. “As my father would say, if I did not want the glass to break it would and if I wanted it to break it wouldn’t.”

  Grabbing a small rubber mallet, Paul gently tapped on the small rectangle. It took three taps, but on the third tap the drilled out section of glass broke. The broken glass fell into the bottom of the bottle as he had hoped. “Wow, it actually worked!” Grudgingly he complimented Donna for her suggestion about drilling holes into the bottles. The smile he saw on her face made him realize she would be rubbing this in his face many times in the future. He knew she was savoring the moment. Focusing on the second bottle, he tapped out the glass just as he had done to the first one. Just as it did the first time, on the third gentle tap the bottom gave way and the broken glass fell inside the bottle.

  Paul grabbed two small plastic shopping bags and dumped the broken glass from each bottle into separate bags, looking up at Donna as he did. “Just in case we need to prove we opened the bottles this way to someone else later on.” She nodded back at him, realizing he had thought of everything.

  Using a pair of needle nose pliers, due to the sharp edges of glass lining the broken hole in each bottle, Paul gently grabbed the papers in the first bottle and moved them closer to the opening he had made. Finally able to grab the papers between two of his fingers, he removed them from the bottle with great care. As he laid each of them down on a towel Donna had spread out on the table, he could see sections of the paper had been stained, possibly from condensation that had gotten into the bottle or from moisture having been in the bottle when the papers were placed inside it. Remarkably the papers appeared to be in great condition. As he placed them on the table, Donna continued to click away with the digital camera.

  As Paul carefully unfolded the first set of papers, the ones that had been in the smaller of the two bottles, an impatient Donna asked the obvious question for the moment. “Well, what is it? Is it a letter or what?”

  Paul was slowly unfolding the three pieces of paper that had been folded first and then rolled up so they would fit into the neck of the bottle. “Patience young lady, patience. I don’t want to rip the papers. Is the video camera getting this?”

  Sarcastically Donna answered her husband. “No, Paul, I shut it off just before this important moment! Of course it is. You’re killing me with the suspense; tell me what you are looking at!”

  The three pieces of paper were faded from their original off-white color. As Paul carefully finished unfolding them, he saw they were actually two letters which had been folded together. Sitting down after laying the papers out on the table, it took a moment for his brain to register the significance of the signature he was looking at. When it finally did he quickly stood up, stunned by what he was now looking at. Quietly he whispered the name out loud. Standing near the opposite side of the table, Donna was startled by his quick reaction after seeing the signature. She was startled enough that she backed away from the table so quickly she nearly fell to the floor as she tried not to trip over a nearby box on the garage floor. “Paul, you idiot, you scared the hell out of me. I almost fell avoiding that stupid box of yours on the floor. What did you see that caused you to react like you did?”

  As she walked back around the table, she was about to take the papers out of his hands when Paul told her not to. “Donna, whatever you do, do not touch these papers with your bare hands. This is amazing!”

  Donna was not a history buff like her husband was, but when she saw the signature on the bottom of the second page, a signature written over one hundred and fifty years ago by President Jefferson Davis, even she knew the importance of the papers found within the bottle. As she put her hands up to her face, she weakly mumbled a surprised reaction to seeing the Davis signature. “Oh, my God!”

  At first, Paul did not completely read the Davis letter as he was too interested in seeing whose signature was on the second one page letter. The second letter had been neatly folded over the Davis letter. Looking at the second signature, he saw only a partial one as part of the first name appeared to have been damaged by moisture. Not recognizing the last name he was now looking at, he did not know at first who Ch Memminger was. Silently he guessed at the first name. “Was it Charles, or could it be Christopher, or is it some other name?”

  A question Donna asked interrupted his thoughts about the smudged signature he was looking at. “Paul, I know this is another of my stupid questions, but these are real letters, not fakes, right?”

  “I guess, I mean sure, I mean . . . . well I guess what I mean is I don’t know, but found in a bottle, and in the clothing of someone who we believe to have been a Confederate soldier, I guess they have to be real. Look how the first name in this second letter has been damaged by moisture. I don’t know if a signature on a reproduction of a letter would run like that when the ink became wet. I think they have to be original letters.”

  Paul then read the letter out loud so Donna could hear what President Davis had written so many years ago.

  August 3, 1863

  Richmond, Va.

  To Whom It May Concern:

  Please extend to Captain Judiah Francis, of the Army of Northern Virginia, and to all who travel with him, free and unobstructed passage through our Confederate States of America. This includes the use of any rail lines that Captain Francis deems necessary to use. He is to be granted priority use of any railroad at anytime he deems it prudent.

  Captain Francis has been selected for an assignment, by both General Lee and me. This assignment is both secret and sensitive to the needs of our cause and must not be interrupted, or delayed, for any reason. His orders come personally from me.

  With Warmest Regards,

  Pres. Jefferson Davis

  With the letters still spread out on the table, Paul reread the letter written by President Davis to himself. Afraid of damaging them, he kept his hands away from the pages of the letters. Still shocked at what they had found, Donna remained silent for several more minutes as her eyes darted from page to page, trying to comprehend the historical significance of the letters at the same time. As he read the Davis letter for the second time, Paul used a magnifying glass to decipher a couple of words as the pages had appeared to have been folded and then refolded a few times in the past. For the most part, he was amazed at the condition of the letter.

  Paul then turned his attention to the second letter. He read it to himself the first time and then twice out loud so Donna could hear what had been written.

  August 3, 1863

  Richmond, Virginia

  Sir,

  The fate of our cause, and the survival of our Confederate States, rests with the ability of Captain Judiah Francis to complete a mission for my office, and most importantly, for all of us.

  Please extend to him the courtesies you would expect a Confederate officer, on assignment from the Office of the President, and from my office, deserves.

  Affectionately,

  Ch Memminger

  Secretary of the Treasury

  Confederate States of America

  After reading the letters Paul knew a great deal more than he had, but still he could not figure out what the soldier’s assignment had been about. Donna then verbalized the same thoughts he was having. “Well, I guess it’s safe to assume, and I know you do not assume anything, but in this case I bet it’s safe to assume our dead soldier is Captain Judiah Francis who the letters refer to. We at least now know who this Memminger fellow was; he was the Secretary of the Confederate Treasury. But what is this mission, this assignment, the two letters are referring to I wonder? Neither letter tells you much about that. What do you think they are referring to?” Her husband was as equally confused by the contents of the letters as she was.

  “At first blu
sh, and I am just guessing, these letters seem to be written for the sole purpose of giving this Confederate officer, this Captain Francis fellow, and whoever is travelling with him, special permission to move unmolested about the South, especially south of Richmond. The Davis letter clearly authorizes him to use any of the Confederate railroads that he might need to use. Right now I have no idea why, but it’s obvious, because of the signatures on the two letters, that something important was happening.”

  They both stared at the letters for the next several minutes, looking closely at the somewhat faded writing on the yellowish pages. They did so for another ten minutes or so when Paul, regaining his focus, looked at Donna with a wrinkled smile. Pointing to the second bottle, he asked her, “So what’s in the second bottle?” Like Paul, she had been so taken back by the discovery of the first two letters that she had also momentarily forgotten about the second bottle.

  Without answering his question, Donna simply picked up the towel and handed it to him. “Let’s find out!”

  As Paul wrapped the towel around the second bottle, whose glass bottom had not broken as cleanly as the first one had, he again used the needle nose pliers to move the folded up papers closer to the hole so he could grab them with his fingers. As he did, he could not help but notice the enthusiasm Donna now displayed. It was totally out of character for her to get excited with anything related to history. As with the first bottle, she now took several digital photos to document what he was doing with the second one.