by Steve Berry
“You should see this,” Cassiopeia said.
They all walked toward her where the light revealed a dark, leathery thing, vague in color and shaped like an old ball. Then Cotton saw the skull, some of the flesh still there, a chocolate veneer sunk tight against the forehead and down over the nose and chin, the corpse mummified and preserved.
“Any idea who it is?” Daniels asked.
“No telling,” he said. “This was a tough business. There were surely casualties.”
“Is it Adams?” Danny asked.
“Not likely,” Cotton said. “He was the custodian of this place. The one who sealed it tight. So he would have been the last guy out. From what I recall from my grandfather, Adams died around 1900.”
“Where is he buried?” Cassiopeia asked.
He had no answer, so he looked at Weston, who said, “I’m sorry. No one knows.”
They were all drawn to the table at the center, which they approached with caution as anything so inviting might be bait.
But no traps lay in wait.
On it sat a carved wooden box about a foot long and that much high, the top engraved with words.
A La Muerte del Finado Angus Adams.
On the death of the late Angus Adams.
He tried to hinge open the top, but it was locked shut.
Another keyhole in the front.
“Try it,” Weston said.
He found the ceremonial key.
“I’ve always wondered why the cross and circle was etched into the stem,” Weston said. “Perhaps it’s for just this lock.”
Maybe so.
He inserted the key and felt the cross on the stem connect to something. Surprisingly, the lock turned with minimal resistance. Inside he saw two pieces of parchment with writing.
He lifted them out.
They read.
Life has taught me that the past is irremediable but the future is limitless. The best hope for a restoration to the pristine purity and fraternity of national Union rests on the opinions and character of the men who are to succeed this generation. It is my hope that they may be suited to that blessed work, one that compels them to draw their creed from the fountains of our great political history, rather than the lower stream, polluted as it was by self-seeking place hunters and sectional strife. In my old age I have come to learn that in any quest for a more perfect Union, the Founders intended for us to resolve our differences with words, not bullets. Such a shame that so many died to remind us of that point.
I have proudly served as a knight of the Golden Circle. My individual charge was to protect the records and wealth that now surround you. Nearly all of the men who fought in the late great war between the states are gone, the remainder to fade away in the few short years to come, myself included. No new revolution looms, nor is one likely to ever come. The Union is restored and, by the grace of God, it will never be challenged again.
My hope is that the reader of these words has come from that hallowed institution of knowledge on the Mall, that Castle as it came to be known. I spent some of my happiest years painting there. How ironic that it took an Englishman to seed its creation, as nothing seems more American than the Smithsonian Institution. I have watched and marveled at its accomplishments. The advancements it has led in astronomy, geography, meteorology, geology, botany, zoology, anatomy, and natural history. Its faithfulness to the charge to promote all knowledge, not just the popular or practical, without pride or prejudice, learning for the simple sake of learning. I would have so loved to serve as one of its regents, but such an exalted position is not meant for a spy. Long ago I left what clues I could with Secretary Henry, hoping that one day either he or his successor would find this secret place. If the reader of these words is from the Castle then it seems only appropriate that both the records of the Confederate States of America, created through the honest work of good men, and all of this wealth, ill begotten and tainted as it is, be taken by the Smithsonian Institution for the benefit of all. In the event that this cache has been found by knights, I order you to likewise bestow all that you see herein to the Smithsonian and, as the last of the generation that created your cause, to abandon any fight, support a unified United States, and obey your oath of allegiance by doing as I have commanded.
Cotton Adams
October 6, 1897
“Seems your ancestor had many regrets,” Daniels said to him. “And, Warren, it seems the legend was right. There is a lost order, a final command, but probably not what you imagined.”
“Not even close.”
“Did Adams really think that whoever found this would do as he says?” Cassiopeia asked.
“If it was knights,” Weston said, “absolutely. That’s what the whole fight has been about, internally. A fundamental disagreement on what those original knights wanted us to do.”
“Now you know,” Daniels said. “What will your members think?”
“Our disagreements just ended.”
“Adams hit the nail on the head,” Daniels said. “All this should go to the Smithsonian.”
“That might be harder than you think,” Weston noted. “We’re on federal land. This gold belongs to the United States of America.”
“I don’t think that’s goin’ to be a problem,” Daniels said. “Thankfully, the Speaker and I are like this.” He held up two fingers nestled tight together. “I’m sure he’s figured out by now that I own him. Lucky for him I’m a benign dictator, but I’ll make sure he gets a bill through the House, which I’ll get through the Senate. You’ll definitely get the records. And you might not get all the gold, but you’ll get a good chunk. Lucky for us, two Smithsonian operatives found it.”
Cotton surveyed the room one more time. “There are billions of dollars here.”
“Which the Smithsonian can put to good use,” Weston said.
“And the Knights of the Golden Circle?” Cassiopeia asked. “What becomes of them?”
“We’ll do what Alexander Stephens, Adams, and many others suggested a long time ago. Work within the law, and try to convince a majority of the people we’re right.” But a shadow of annoyance darkened Weston’s eyes. “And we’ll finance it ourselves, without this hoard.”
The chief justice touched the parchment. So did Daniels and Cassiopeia. A moment of unspoken communion passed among them.
Sealing the deal.
Cotton asked, “Mind if I keep the document?”
A pride of ownership laced his inquiry. He felt a deep connection with the man who’d written it. A spy who fought against the Union but who, in the end, saw the error of his way.
“It rightly belongs to you,” Daniels said.
Cotton caught the warmth in Cassiopeia’s brown eyes, clear and innocent as a child’s. She grasped his arm in a soft embrace.
“I’m heading outside to call Stephanie,” Daniels said.
“I’ll go with you,” Weston said. “I have some calls to make, too.”
They left.
He stood and kept soaking in the chamber. A few years before, he’d finally made peace with his dead father, settling issues that had lingered since he was ten years old. Now he’d dealt with another ancestor. One he’d never before known how much he resembled. Not only did they look alike, but they had the same nickname. Even the same profession.
“You okay?” she asked.
His mind roiled in turmoil, stunned by the magnitude of the find. But there was a force about this place, a pull that seemed alive and animate.
One he liked.
Tension bled from him.
His job was done.
“You ready to go home?” he asked.
She nodded. “Your place or mine?”
That meant either France or Denmark.
He smiled.
“Surprise me.”
WRITER’S NOTE
The travel associated with this book happened over time. A few years ago Elizabeth and I made a trip to rural Arkansas, where we discovered its hidden beauty. We’
ve also visited western North Carolina and eastern Tennessee on several occasions. The additional trips taken especially for this novel were all to Washington, DC, where we were shown all of the nooks and crannies of the Smithsonian’s many museums. It’s a fascinating behind-the-scenes world, one that has been heavily incorporated into this story.
Time to separate fact from fiction.
The great Smithsonian fire of 1865, described in the prologue, happened. A mistake repairing a flue, as described in chapter 59, remains the official explanation for its cause. Everything relative to the fire outlined in the prologue happened. We know these details thanks to several internal Smithsonian reports. My addition to the chaos was the presence of Angus Adams, the key, a field journal, and the Union captain. But the double-action revolver that makes an appearance was a cutting-edge weapon for the time, and the gathering at Navy Secretary Gideon Welles’ home did happen during the Civil War.
The Knights of the Golden Circle (chapters 12, 14) existed, starting sometime in the 1850s and finally fading near the turn of the 20th century (chapter 26). It was the largest, most successful subversive organization in American history (chapters 12, 28, 40). Tens of thousands were members. Interestingly, historians tend to ignore it, though the Order’s plans for a southern empire, a golden circle, were real (chapters 12, 25). The meeting at the Greenbrier resort in 1859 happened, and the rules booklet exists (chapter 12). The knights’ motto was simple: To maintain the Constitution as it is, and to restore the Union as it was. Their odd handshake and secret words of greeting are factual (chapter 12), but connecting the cross and circle to the knights is purely my invention (prologue, chapter 8).
Most of the official records from the Confederacy did, in fact, disappear in the days before Richmond fell, and to this day they have never been found (chapter 85). Those vanished documents included most of the records on the Knights of the Golden Circle, so we will never know the full extent of its reach.
The treasure hunt Malone engages in (chapter 1) is based on an actual search that utilized similar physical clues. The Knights of the Golden Circle did in fact bury large hoards of gold throughout the South and left natural markers in the woods as described in chapters 1, 14, and 22. Most of that wealth was acquired from theft and looting, some even by Jesse James, whom many believe was a knight (chapter 22). James’ and others’ countless robberies may actually have been part of an organized, postwar terror campaign the knights waged on Reconstructionists. An excellent book on the subject is Shadow of the Sentinel, by Warren Getler and Bob Brewer.
The danger that Malone experiences in chapter 1 is likewise real. The warning Martin Thomas received while in Arkansas with a hanging effigy and spent shell casings happened in 1993 (chapter 16), and the term huntin’ cows, as used in chapter 22 for killing potential treasure seekers, is from the accounts of men who would know. Do sentinels still exist? No one knows for sure. But, when they did, they were compensated from paycheck holes as detailed in chapter 24. Many say that a fortune in gold, hidden long ago by the knights, is still out there waiting to be found. To this day, only a tiny fraction of the Order’s wealth has been located.
The five stones that are referenced throughout (including their images) are the Peralta Stones, which are shrouded in controversy. No one knows when they were discovered or where. The originals don’t even exist, only copies. Legend says they point the way to the Lost Dutchman’s Mine in Arizona. But who knows? Currently, they can be seen at the Arizona Museum of Natural History in Mesa, Arizona. All of the symbolic interpretations regarding the stones are part mine and part based on what others believe the lines and letters and numbers represent. Since nothing definitive is known about these stones, and no one has ever deciphered them, they seemed tailor-made for fiction.
This novel is loaded with real places: The Ouachita National Forest (chapters 1, 3, 5, 6), Carson National Forest (chapter 77), and Blount County, Tennessee (chapters 2, 7) are faithfully recounted. The abandoned mine in chapter 30 is based on real ones that still exist in Arkansas. The Vice President’s Room in the Capitol is there (chapter 39). The Dirksen Office Building (chapter 41), the gym in the Russell Office Building (chapter 56), and the Willard Hotel, along with its famed Willard Room, exist. All that happened at the Willard Hotel throughout its history, including the supposed invention of the term lobbying, is true (chapter 44). The disparaging comments justices made about the Supreme Court building quoted in chapter 70 are factual. The National Air and Space Museum (chapter 51) and the geography and layout of all the Smithsonian buildings was kept as close to reality as possible, with only a few minor variations. Fossil Hall (chapter 35) is currently undergoing a total renovation. The Permian reef exhibit was inside for over two decades, but has now been dismantled (chapter 35). The Lincoln Memorial (chapter 66) and World War II Memorial, including Eisenhower’s engraved quote, are there for all to see (chapter 68).
The feud between Jefferson Davis and Alexander Stephens happened (prologue, chapter 13). Stephens wanted to avoid war and eventually make peace with the North. Davis preferred armed conflict. Stephens’ political career was long and storied (chapter 13, 38), and he was a great proponent of working within the Constitution. His involvement, though, with the Knights of the Golden Circle, and any plan to alter Congress, are wholly my inventions. All of the disparaging comments Frank Breckinridge makes about Jefferson Davis in chapter 50 are historical fact. The provisions of the Confederate constitution quoted in chapters 65 and 73 are from the original document. There are indeed elements of that constitution (dealing with Congress) that the modern world could easily embrace. The poetry quoted in chapters 11 and 72 is from “Silver Knights,” which I found online with no author attribution. It’s unclear if this poem is modern or from the 19th century, but its lyrical prose fit this story perfectly.
As related in chapter 25, President James Polk decided that the fastest way to increase the size of the United States was to have a war with Mexico, which was won after two years of fighting. The Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo (1848) ceded to the United States what would later become Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, Nevada, and California.
Angus Adams is based on Captain Thomas Hines, a famous Confederate spy. Hines’ exploits are legendary, including hiding inside a mattress, beneath a sick man, to avoid Union soldiers (chapter 33). When I heard that story a few years ago I knew it would become part of Cotton Malone’s legacy. A good book on Hines is Confederate Agent, by James Horan. All of what is described in chapter 33 about Adams was actually accomplished by Hines. Even the note left by Angus Adams after his escape was actually written by Hines. The spiking of cottage cheese with cotton (chapter 40) is taken from someone I know who actually did that, as a child, to a babysitter.
Alex Sherwood’s office is based on Senator Lamar Alexander’s offices in the Dirksen building, including the framed shirt on display in the reception area (chapter 41). The jumble in chapter 50 is based on codes used during the Civil War. The 18th Psalm is indeed the only one with a 42nd verse, its words apropos (chapter 79). The newspaper excerpt in chapter 27 about lost gold, F. Lee Bailey, and John Dean comes nearly word for word from an actual news article printed in 1973. It was, indeed, illegal, from 1934 to 1974 for Americans to privately own gold (chapter 27). Fore-edge painting is a lost art (chapter 72), but it is amazing to see. I’ve wanted to include it in a novel for a long time.
The proposed 28th Amendment noted in chapter 4 has been suggested several times, but Congress has never considered it. Amending the Constitution by a national convention called by the states is one means of changing the document. It is true that there are few to no rules that would apply to an Article V convention (chapter 65). Similar to the first constitutional convention in 1787, which ignored its limited charge of only amending the existing Articles of Confederation, any new convention might likewise be unrestrained. There is literally no applicable law. At present a movement exists for a second constitutional convention, with a number of states already making the
call. Brinksmanship: Amending the Constitution by National Convention, by Russell Caplan (cited in chapter 7), is an excellent read.
The early days of the House and Senate as recounted in chapter 13 are historical fact, as is the rise of the infamous filibuster. That single achievement, more than anything else, elevated the U.S. Senate into one of the most powerful legislative bodies ever created. If sixty senators do not invoke cloture and vote to silence (chapter 13), a single senator can literally shut down the entire legislative process. In fact, it happens all the time. Most times today in private.
As related in the story, nothing comes to a floor vote in the House of Representatives unless the Rules Committee first approves (chapter 20), and that committee is under the total control of the Speaker. Congressional procedural rules (chapter 13) are vital to an orderly legislative process. They are created by each house of Congress (per the Constitution) with nearly no judicial oversight (chapter 13). In the early days of the country the Senate did little to nothing, other than advise the House (chapter 13). But all that changed in the 19th century. Altering the House of Representatives’ rules so that it would only consider legislation that originates in the House is not only possible (chapter 56), it’s perfectly legal. The idea is not mine. It came from Ending Congressional Gridlock, by Gary Larsen. And such a change would effectively elevate the Speaker of the House into the most powerful person in the country.
Congress is a mess. It may be the one thing all Americans agree on, but it is equally true that Congress has kept this country going for 200-plus years (chapter 9). So we take the good with the bad. Gridlock is now a word in our vernacular with an unflattering meaning. But most people do not know that the U.S. Senate was specifically created to act as a legislative impediment. Its whole purpose was to create gridlock. Contrary to what many pundits think today, the Founding Fathers simply did not trust popular rule (chapter 56). That mistrust was reflected in both the electoral college (where the people do not actually elect the president) and a bicameral legislature (with a Senate chosen not by the people, but by state legislators). There is a famous story: Thomas Jefferson had just returned from France and was having breakfast with George Washington. Jefferson asked Washington why he’d agreed at the constitutional convention to have a Senate in the first place. It really wasn’t needed. The House represented the people and could handle everything. Washington posed a question back, Why did you just now pour that coffee into your saucer before drinking it? To cool it, Jefferson said, noting that his throat was not made of brass. Washington smiled and explained, We pour our legislation into the Senatorial saucer to cool it too.