Confederate Gold and Silver

by Peter F. Warren

  The small talk between Francis and his new friend included Baldwin, the son of a wealthy South Carolina rice planter, talking of his life prior to the start of the war. His life had been vastly different from the one Francis had lived, but as Baldwin told him his father’s wealth had allowed him special privileges, it was easy to tell it had been a life with some unhappiness in it. Baldwin talked about falling out of favor with his father due to an incident which had occurred during his senior year at the Virginia Military Institution. The incident had resulted in him being expelled from school over an allegation of cheating, an allegation which had later been proven false. The allegation had been one which created a deep rift between them as his father had not stood by him during the time the matter was being investigated. Later, again to his father’s ire, Baldwin had joined the Confederate army instead of returning to school. In doing so, he had chosen to simply enlist in the army, choosing to advance on his own instead of using his father’s wealth and influence to buy an officer’s commission. Enlisting had caused an additional strain on his relationship with his father. “I do hope the pride we carry in our own lives, and the pride we have in each other, will allow us to mend our past grievances when the war ends. But for that to happen, he will have to apologize for thinking I would dishonor his reputation by cheating. I would never tarnish our family name like that.” Francis sensed Baldwin truly regretted what had come between him and his father.

  Unlike Baldwin, Francis had never received any formal education. He had received his education from his mother, Bertha, who had been a school teacher for a few years after she had completed her schooling in Baltimore. She had been his only teacher and it was from her he learned how to read. Her interest in reading carried over to him as she had exposed her son to the outside world through her small collection of books.

  Bertha Elizabeth Bland had been the only daughter of John Bland. He had sent her away to a finishing school in Baltimore so she could receive not only an education, but to hopefully meet someone else to marry besides the boy who had tried courting her back home. The boy who had lived four miles away from the Bland plantation was Peter Francis. Bertha’s father had not liked young Peter early on, but later he finally consented to allow her to marry him after he had received his first promotion in the Union army.

  Despite having been taught at home, Judiah Francis had become an enthusiastic student. After learning the basic educational skills, he pushed himself to learn more, especially in mathematics. From the books he borrowed from nearby friends, he read whatever he could get his hands on. He had not received a single day of formal education, but he had become much more than just a young uneducated man from the back country of Virginia. He had proved that to others every day since joining the Army of Northern Virginia. Deep down, as he listened to Baldwin talk about VMI, he wished he could have experienced some form of a formal education.

  As their talk continued, and as the train slowly plodded along on the tracks, Baldwin tried to learn more about the mission Francis was on. “Judiah, it is apparent to me, due to both your silence on what your mission is about and from what I perceive to be a somewhat increased level of alertness among your men, an alertness I would not normally expect to see from soldiers riding on a train, that you are doing something different than what most other soldiers are doing in the war. Am I right?”

  Growing tired from his lack of sleep and from his self-reflection over hanging two traitors earlier in the day, Francis looked at Baldwin for a moment without speaking. A couple of moments later he gave Baldwin a simple response to the assessment he had made about his mission. “You are correct in your assumption.”

  Fearing Baldwin was going to likely ask him more questions about his mission, Francis tried to steer the conversation in another direction. Pointing out one of his men, Francis spoke before he could be asked another question. “You see the soldier grooming the horse over there? He is from North Carolina, the New Bern area if I remember right. He is representing North Carolina very well during our difficult mission. In fact, all of my men are performing very well. They all are enduring many hardships without complaining. I am proud of all of them. Those who are higher in rank than I am chose these men to be part of this mission. I must admit, they chose very well.”

  But Baldwin did not see what Francis had attempted to do with the conversation and he again asked about the mission his new friend was leading before he was cut off. With a touch of frustration in his voice, Francis sternly spoke to him. “Captain, my mission is not to be asked about again. As a military officer and as my new friend you need to respect the position I have taken in not talking about my assignment. I cannot speak on it, nor will I. I can only tell you that I must get as far south as soon as possible.”

  Finally realizing he had pursued his interest in Francis’ mission too far, Baldwin apologized to him. “Judiah, out of no other reason than my mere personal curiosity, I have asked you questions I now realize I should not have asked. I respect your orders and I respect you. I offer a sincere apology to you. I hope I have not offended you.” Francis smiled and then patted his new friend on the shoulder to indicate the apology had been accepted.

  “Judiah, I am a proud South Carolinian, born and bred, and a soldier just like you. I know many routes of travel south from where we now are. Tell me where you want to get to and perhaps I can suggest some way for you to get there so harm does not fall upon you and your men.”

  While Francis knew he could not tell Baldwin what their mission was, he also knew he needed help getting to Charleston. He would be foolish not to accept the recommendations of someone so familiar with the roads in and around South Carolina.

  “William, my immediate goal is to get to Charleston safely. I had hoped to get to Columbia or to Chattanooga, and then onto Savannah, but train problems in North Carolina have changed my plans. Now the presence of Yankee troops no longer allows me to risk trying to get there, especially since I have recently heard that Chattanooga is under frequent attacks from Union troops. Now I must get to Charleston. Once there I will decide if I should move further south by boat or by the Charleston Savannah Railroad. I can only pray the train will still be running by the time we get there. Now, what do you suggest? And please, while I cannot tell you specifics of our mission, know it is an important one. I shall be in your debt for your assistance. If I had not received a direct order from General Lee regarding this mission, I would have been glad to speak with you about it. As an officer in the Confederate army I cannot ignore the order he has given me or the trust he has shown in me. I hope you can understand my position. Sir, please tell me how to get to Charleston safely with these wagons.”

  Francis had played a hunch when he intentionally mentioned General Lee’s name to Baldwin. Baldwin’s opinion of Lee was not important to Francis, but mentioning Lee’s name now signified the importance of his mission. He hoped by playing his hunch Baldwin would tell him the safest route to Charleston. He would soon find out he had played his hunch very well.

  “Judiah, I understand the tacit message you have just given me. Please extend my best to the good general when you see him. My father and the general are good friends from their times spent together earlier in their careers. You do not have to mention my name to him as someone who has rendered you some assistance, simply send him my regards. Hearing you mention his name gives me a sense of the importance of your mission.”

  Francis then walked to where his haversack sat on the floor of the railcar. After briefly checking on his men, he returned to where Baldwin still stood. Unfolding a map for them to work with, he looked at Baldwin. “Show me how to get there.”

  Fearing the Union army would likely be targeting the railroad they were on, as well as others in the area, Baldwin surprised Francis by suggesting he leave the safety of the train before they reached the Santee River. He suggested Francis lead his men towards the relative safety of Georgetown and then south towards C
harleston. “The train will get you further south quicker, but if I were you I would go to Charleston over land. The Union army likely wants to disrupt rail service so we cannot resupply our armies in a timely fashion. Your mission appears to be an important one. If it’s as important as you are leading me to believe, I suggest you go by land. You will have to cross a few rivers along the way, but you will also find pockets of Southern sympathizers who can supply you with food and information.”

  Always the well prepared and cautious Confederate officer he was, Francis wrestled with the advice he had been given, but soon he agreed with Baldwin’s recommendation to disembark from the train. As he thought more about doing this, his military training told him the decision to leave the train was the right one. Silently he gave his friend’s recommendation serious thought. “Plus, if I do leave the train, the Santee River will afford me some protection as I move east to Georgetown. Hopefully the river will slow any Union troop movements towards Charleston.”

  Soon gathering his men to tell them what would be occurring, Francis saw Baldwin climb up and over the end of the rail car they had been talking on. He then saw him beginning to make his way over and through the other rail cars. He knew Baldwin would soon be telling the train’s engineer where to stop the train for them.

  In less than two hours the train neared the location Baldwin had recommended to Francis. As it neared the location, the engineer braked the train to stop. It came to a long slow stop alongside a narrow rough trail. As it did, Francis immediately ordered the train to be unloaded of the wagons and horses.

  “Judiah, I would like to accompany you to your final destination, but I must get back to my men as I have been away from them far too long. I have been gone so long I suspect they likely believe I have joined up with the Yankees!” Francis shook hands with Baldwin, laughing at the improbable thought of him wearing the uniform of the Union army.

  “Captain Baldwin, it was indeed an honor to meet you. I thank you for your valuable assistance. I shall indeed let General Lee know of your help and of your high regard for him.”

  That said, and with the wagons now unloaded from the train, they again shook hands. The wagons slowly started their move east towards Georgetown. As he watched them move away from the train, Baldwin signaled for the train to start moving. Holding onto the side of the open door of one of the boxcars, he braced himself as the train lurched forward as it started moving. He watched as Francis moved out of sight, partially obscured from view by the many pine trees along the side of the rough trail he now travelled on. As he stood there on the straw covered floor of the boxcar, Baldwin reached down and picked up a single gold coin, an 1861 Quarter Eagle. He had seen it mixed in with the straw on the floor of the boxcar. Fingering the almost new gold coin, he finally realized what Francis’ mission was about. “I hope he makes it. We need that money to fight the damn Yankees with!” Silently he stood there for a few minutes, wishing his new friend well. He hoped they would see each other after the war.

  The war would continue to rage for well over another year, but Baldwin would not see the full year unfold. The gold and silver would last for many more years. It would only take someone to finally find it.

  Summer, 2011

  17

  Looking For Gold.

  “When Johnny comes marching home again, Hurrah! Hurrah!

  We’ll give him a hearty welcome then, Hurrah! Hurrah!”

  Lyrics to ‘When Johnny Comes Marching Home’, a Union Civil War song.

  Like it is for most people the night before they get married or the night before they start a new job, it was the same for Chick the night before he was to meet with Paul and Jayne to learn the clues Paul had uncovered regarding the missing Confederate treasury. The excitement of what the following day would bring denied him any chance at sleep and he spent most of the night tossing, turning, and thinking of what he would learn in the morning.

  As he lay in bed, Chick ran many questions through his head. “Does Paul really have the clues needed to find the missing gold and silver? Is the legend of the missing money really true or are we just chasing a myth? What are we going to find?” As Paul had no answers to the many questions that had run through his mind, Chick also had no answers to the many questions he asked himself during his sleepless night.

  Just before 6:00 a.m. he gave up any hopes of falling asleep. After getting dressed, Chick made a pot of coffee and sat down at his kitchen table with his books, hoping to find some answers about the missing treasury.

  Before trying to fall asleep, Chick had picked through a small mountain of books he had piled in his den. He had pulled three books out of the piles. Each contained information on the legend of the missing Confederate treasury. Now over several cups of coffee, he read what he could find on the missing gold and silver. He hoped to find some innocuous clue about the missing money which could help them. He found nothing.

  Four hours later, Paul greeted Chick and Jayne as they walked up the steps to his front door. “Are you excited, nervous, or both?”

  “I’m both, but surprisingly I slept like a baby last night!”

  Chick was jealous of Jayne’s response as he had tried everything to fall asleep during the night, but counting sheep, and even gold coins, had brought no success. He was working on adrenaline now and was not sure how long it would last, but he knew the suspense would keep him going for as long as it took Paul to tell them what he knew about the missing money.

  After ushering them into his kitchen, Paul turned on his Keurig coffee maker. Soon they were sitting at his kitchen table, talking over their coffee. “Look, I have a couple of items I want to show you before I let you read the letters I found. I think it’s important for me to show you how I found them so you have a mental picture of the scene as I found it.”

  With coffee cups left behind on Paul’s orders, they both followed him into the garage. Patiently they waited as he unpacked a cardboard moving box containing some of the items he had yet to tell the authorities about. First they were shown the Confederate tail coat, the blouse which had held the coins and bottles Paul had found. It was a coat with several of its original buttons still sewn in place.

  Handing them each a pair of white cotton gloves he had picked up the previous afternoon from the Dollar General Store not far from his house, Paul gave them some simple instructions to follow. “Before you touch anything you need to put these on. We don’t want the perspiration from your hands to damage the items I am going to show you.” Chick and Jayne both donned the gloves without saying a word as they stared at the blouse carefully laid out on a blanket. The blanket was spread out on top of a sheet of plywood which rested on two wooden sawhorses.

  “For being in a tree for so long, exposed to all types of weather, as well as insects and whatever else, this is in amazing condition.” Jayne barely took her eyes off the blouse as she unpacked her Nikon camera from its case.

  With Paul’s permission she took photos of the blouse from all angles and from all sides. She even had Chick carefully hold the blouse up so she could photograph the backside of it as well. After she finished, Paul directed their attention to the bottles he had set up on his work bench, the bottles that had held the letters for so many years. “These bottles contained four letters and a small map I have found. You can see I drilled the bottoms of the bottles out so I could get the letters out.” The click of Jayne’s camera was the only noise in the garage as they all stared at the bottles and at the holes which had been made in them. Paul then showed them copies of the photos Donna had taken when he had drilled the holes in the bottom of the bottles. “My wife took these photos to document the finds we made when we took the letters out of the bottles. We also ran a video camera at the same time. I have the video ready to show you later when we are done in here. If we do decide to do a documentary on this, I was thinking the video we took, and possibly these photos as well, could easily be incorporated into
our finished product.”

  Setting her camera down on a nearby folding table, Jayne complimented Paul for having the foresight to document what he had done with the bottles. “Taking the video and the digital pictures was a wise idea as it showed not only what you found, but it also shows how your soldier had packaged the letters so many years ago to protect them. I agree with you, the pictures and the video are things we should definitely think about including in our documentary.”

  While he appreciated the compliment Jayne had directed at him for documenting what he had found, Paul had done so without even thinking about it. From the crime scenes he had worked at, documenting those scenes with both photographs and videotape was a routine task which needed to be done at each scene. Looking at Jayne as she held the pictures Donna had taken, Paul gave her a zing. “Thanks for the compliment, but it’s not my first time at the rodeo!”

  Grasping the meaning of his somewhat sarcastic comment, and then remembering what Paul had done previously in life, Jayne’s face turned a somewhat embarrassed shade of red. Chick smiled at Paul’s comment, but remained quiet as his eyes slowly scanned the photos he was looking at. “Amazing stuff, just amazing.”