History Decoded: The 10 Greatest Conspiracies of All Time

by Meltzer, Brad

  Still, Davis needed time to turn his hope into a plan. He needed that day he asked Lee to give him.

  But Lee couldn’t make such a promise. The only thing he could guarantee to Davis was the rest of Sunday to make his escape. By eight o’clock that evening, Lee and what remained of his army would themselves be falling back. Richmond was lost.

  Confederate Flight

  With Yankees at the gates of Richmond in April 1865, Jefferson Davis boarded a train whose locomotive pulled Confederate treasure as well as Confederate leaders.

  Destination Danville

  After a harrowing delay, Davis’s train sped out of Richmond just before midnight, bound for Danville, Virginia.

  With the final few hours Davis had left, he arranged for at least two—and possibly as many as nine—trains to steam south from the capital. One would bear the president, his cabinet, and other officials. Another would carry the treasury of the Confederacy, as well as the assets of six Richmond banks. With an eye focused on both history and the future, the archives and papers related to the government would be evacuated as well.

  That night, they missed the eight o’clock deadline, but by midnight, the trains had left the falling capital, making the best speed possible on the last of the Confederacy’s southbound rail lines. Their destination? Danville, Virginia—just above the North Carolina border.

  Outside Danville, one of the trains met with disaster as a boxcar collapsed, causing the engine to derail. Five soldiers were said to have died in the crash, although only two of the bodies were identified. As rescuers sought to salvage whatever could be removed from the wreckage, we find the beginnings of the legend of Confederate gold buried in or near Danville.

  After a formal meeting of the Confederate cabinet—which to many people makes Danville the last capital of the Confederacy—the president and other officials set out for the deeper south, where they’d attempt to hold the government together. Some say that Davis was already looking westward for a new base of power and resurgence.

  He wouldn’t find it. Jefferson Davis was captured by Union cavalry in Irwinville, Georgia, on May 10.

  But on April 6, the treasure—made up of coins, bullion, jewelry, and precious stones—was all set to be moved. The Confederacy had three days left to live.

  The dual journeys south took weeks, during which the fate of the Confederacy was sealed. Lee’s battered army finally came to rest in Appomattox, Virginia, northeast of Danville. On April 9, in a comfortable parlor, Ulysses S. Grant and Robert E. Lee signed papers that would bring an end to the Confederacy’s most important military force. The opposing generals’ signatures effectively ended hostilities between North and South.

  The war was over at last; the reunited nation was weary of battles and bloodshed.

  But even as the signing took place, the wealth of the Confederate treasury and the assets of the Richmond banks continued to move deeper south, where plans were made to put it in hiding. Soon, the time would be ripe. With the hidden funds, a new war could be fought. The South could rise again.

  As for an exact dollar amount, we’ll never really know for sure because on April 2, as the treasure was snuck out of Richmond, portions of it began to disappear almost immediately.

  Confederate Surrender

  Even as Robert E. Lee surrendered to Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox, Virginia, on April 9, 1865, some Confederates clung to the hope that the South would rise again.

  The first losses took place in Danville—some say during the aftermath of the train wreck . . . others say during the time that the treasure train awaited instructions to move farther south. But Danville was far from the last location where the treasure dwindled. In fact, many believe that the disappearances were part of a larger, deliberate plan—a plan that some say involved burying many separate caches of coins and jewelry throughout the South, along the route taken between Danville and the wagon train’s ultimate destination: Washington, Georgia, where Jefferson Davis was waiting.

  So on April 6, just three days before the surrender at Appomattox, the treasure began to move south once more. And in the course of heading south, the first real accounting of the treasure began.

  That accounting revealed that $200,000 had already gone missing. Civil War historian Mark Waters believes that the Mexican silver dollars were removed from the caravan in Danville, though no one knows whether it was stolen or purposely hidden as part of a larger overall plan.

  “What they did with it and where it went, no one has been able to decode, if you will,” Waters said, thinking he’s pretty funny.

  But when it comes to what happened, here’s one argument in favor of the gold being hidden rather than stolen: Many Mexican silver dollars could have weighed as much as five tons. That much weight would’ve required thieves to be as well equipped with wagons and horses as the Confederates themselves. And the Confederates would have known that the weight of Mexican silver dollars would have slowed them down as well. So it’d make sense to separate the Mexican silver dollars from the rest of the treasury, perhaps burying it in Danville for later recovery.

  “In fact, that’s one of the legends of Danville,” Waters agreed, “that maybe this has been buried in a cemetery.”

  Check Your Balance

  So how much money are we talking about? What was the real value of the Confederate treasure?

  Reports vary, with a few claiming that there never was any treasure. But according to most sources, the amounts removed from Richmond were substantial, including:

  U.S. silver coins

  U.S. gold coins

  $200,000 in Mexican silver coins packed into 39 kegs

  Gold bullion

  Jewelry and precious stones

  The U.S. coins consisted of $327,000 in specie. Because the coins were U.S. currency (the Confederacy did not mint its own coins), the money retained its value, unlike Confederate paper money, which was already nearly worthless.

  So how much was it all worth?

  Best estimates put it at more than $19 million in today’s currency. More than enough to pick a few fights—and potentially start another war.

  Wagon Train

  When rail transport failed, the treasure was transferred to wagons.

  The Treasure Disappears

  Wherever it is, stolen or hidden, as the Confederacy was collapsing, all that mattered was keeping the treasury out of Union hands.

  The initial plan was to transfer the treasure to Charlotte, North Carolina, where a former U.S. Mint had been commandeered by the Confederacy. But as the wagon train approached Charlotte, it became clear that Union forces were already strong in the region.

  At that moment, the Confederate naval officers and midshipmen in charge of transporting the treasure changed their plans, hiding the coins and valuables in casks, barrels, empty ammunition boxes, even flour and sugar bags, then drove southward, hoping to reach Georgia.

  Stop by stop, the treasure dwindled. “Rebel gold vanished all across the South,” Waters explained. But once again, no one knows the hows or whys. Was the money being stolen—or siphoned off and distributed as part of a larger plan?

  Finally, in Washington, Georgia—more than six weeks after fleeing Richmond, and two weeks after Jefferson Davis himself had been captured—the Confederate treasury and other valuables eventually came to rest in a local bank. It wasn’t there long. Union forces seized it all.

  But here’s where the story gets even better: The commander of the Union forces gave the order to move the fortune to the railhead at Abbeville. But despite the forces at his disposal, the commander assigned only five privates and two sergeants to guard the five-wagon caravan.

  Guess what happens next?

  Mexican Silver and US Gold

  The Confederate treasure that was removed from Ric
hmond reportedly included $200,000 in Mexican silver coins (top), packed into 39 kegs. The Confederate treasure also included hundreds of thousands of dollars in U.S. gold coins. The Confederacy never minted coins of its own, though it did create paper money.

  That’s right. On May 24, at the stroke of midnight (when else?), a group of 20 riders reportedly approached the farm near Chennault Plantation, which was where the treasure wagons and their small force of guards had paused for the night.

  The robbers were scruffily dressed, making it unclear which side they were on. Some say they were former Confederate soldiers . . . others that they were Union deserters.

  Whatever their allegiance, the 20 of them quickly overpowered the paltry guard force. They were so silent, the residents of the nearby farmhouse heard nothing.

  But if the robbery was well planned, the raiders forgot one thing: how to escape when you’re carrying so many heavy coins. Scrambling, they loaded gold coins into their pockets, saddlebags, and haversacks.

  According to historian William C. Davis, some of the robbers even removed their pants, knotted the cuffs, and filled the garments until they could virtually stand upright. During the robbery, tens of thousands of dollars of gold fell to the ground. After placing the cash-filled pants over the backs of their horses, the robbers made off as quickly and silently as they’d arrived. Their haul? As much as $250,000.

  In the hours that followed, the trail was followed by soldiers and local authorities, but according to some residents of Washington, the pursuit was halfhearted at best. While as much as $80,000 of the stolen money was eventually recovered, the majority was never found—and has never been found to this day.

  In fact, rumors quickly circulated that some of the so-called pursuers were actually in league with the robbers. It makes sense, especially when you see that the Union commander had such a small group of guards looking out for the treasure . . . and on top of that, that everyone in the region knew that the Confederate treasure was there.

  So let’s ask the question: Was the poorly guarded treasure train a complete setup— deliberately vulnerable in order to make it easier to rob? And was the robbery itself part of a much larger, carefully orchestrated plan?

  To pull off such a plan, you’d need some pretty high-level planners . . . plus people who could keep a secret . . . and most of all, you’d need some amazing hiding places to stash the treasure away.

  Indeed, the complexity of the undertaking has led many to speculate that the job was given to an organization whose specialty was secret-keeping . . . and whose commitment to the Southern cause was unquestioned: the secret society known as the Knights of the Golden Circle, or KGC.

  The Knights of the Golden Circle

  The secretive Knights of the Golden Circle were controversial from the start. Supposedly founded on the Fourth of July in Lexington, Kentucky, by Virginia-born physician George W. L. Bickley, the knights were one of the many groups that, during the Civil War, provided an outlet for the anger that was running rampant in the country.

  Secret Secession Society

  As this 1861 book, a history of the group, reveals, the Knights of the Golden Circle sought to end the Union and create their own slave-based society.

  But unlike the Freemasons or other secret societies, who were focused on longtime traditions, the KGC wanted something far more hateful: for the Union to end so they could run their own slave-based society. Their goal was to create a true, physical “golden circle”—with Mexico and the Caribbean—to build a private part of the country where slavery would continue. If that led to breaking up the Union, the KGC was all for it.

  Over time, the KGC claimed to have many members in northern states, as well as throughout the South. But since records and documentation detailing the group’s professed purposes were scarce to nonexistent, historians still debate whether they truly had any power. Regardless, at the height of the war, rumors spread that the KGC had penetrated the entire Union. Pennsylvania was said to be overrun with KGC members who were plotting to overthrow the government, capture Washington, DC, and even to kidnap President Abraham Lincoln and cut off his head (depending on who you ask, both John Wilkes Booth and Jesse James were rumored to be KGC members—though good luck on finding the proof).

  In the end, regardless of the scope of their power, the KGC had one thing they were incredibly good at: keeping secrets.

  From its very structure, the KGC was designed to maximize secrecy. Organized into groups called castles, these castles were guarded by specially designated sentinels—individuals entrusted with the organization’s greatest secret: guarding the Confederacy’s hidden treasure, generation to generation, over the course of a century.

  To understand these sentinels, we spoke to treasure hunter Bob Brewer, coauthor of Rebel Gold. Brewer was fortunate in that both his grandfather and uncle were skilled in spotting and interpreting KGC signs, and he learned by carefully watching them when he was young. Brewer said that these sentinels had their own private language: a combination of letters, symbols, and numerals that, when arranged in certain ways, can provide clandestine communications and point the way to the location of hidden materials.

  In other words, the KGC had its very own language and system for providing what are essentially map coordinates—and they did it in a way that avoids a customary map.

  Why? To protect the treasure, of course. If the details were written on a map, and the map got stolen, so too would the treasure. But with a KGC sentinel, the secret stays safe, and the sentinel stands guard.

  The result is that only these so-called sentinels can decode the hidden symbols and “read” the messages the KGC left behind. More than that, though, only sentinels, or those trained by them, know how to find the symbols and their messages.

  Why’s that? Because the symbols and messages of the KGC aren’t just sitting there, printed on a map.

  In fact, they’re not printed at all.

  According to Brewer, to make sure these messages would be around for centuries, they’re carved into tree trunks, etched into rocks, and even put into deliberate misspellings on certain tombstones.

  That’s right. When it came to hiding the Confederate treasure, the KGC supposedly used the best hiding spot of all: right in plain sight.

  Secrets of the KGC

  Once admitted to the Knights of the Golden Circle, members had to swear they would bar anyone who wasn’t a moral and upstanding white male (hence, people still call them the precursors to the KKK. Some even say the KGC became the KKK). But the group’s real power was hard to gauge because it existed in the shadows. Still, the National Archives has collected some of their coolest secrets.

  Secret Symbols

  The sentinels of the KGC had their own private language: a combination of letters, symbols, and numerals that, when arranged in certain ways, enabled clandestine communications, and also pointed the way to the location of hidden materials. See Exhibit 9A for a member identification guide.

  Above all, the supposed KGC code relies heavily upon biblical chapter and verse, which was chosen because all of its members would’ve known it well. A cryptic carving might direct the sentinel to a verse in the Bible, and then the interpretation of that would further guide the sentinel—or a knowledgeable treasure hunter—to another symbol, another coordinate, another step on the path to the hidden wealth.

  Of course, the very complexity of the system is also one of its greatest flaws. Sentinels, like everyone else, grow old and eventually die. If they die without passing on their special knowledge, the knowledge goes to the grave with them. (Another flaw in the system is that trees age, too: The carving that was at eye level in 1865 could be dozens or more feet higher a few years later. Trees dies and are cut down, too, which is why the KGC symbol-carvers often chose sturdy, long-lived, smooth-barked trees, such as holly, for their messages.)

  Yet ther
e is something undeniably compelling about watching a treasure hunter and KGC expert like Bob Brewer go about his work, studying a mark on a tree that most of us would overlook and deciding—or divining—that once we’re at that eight-sided gazebo, the symbol of a ghost means that we’re now looking for a specific grave.

  Confused yet? Yeah, so were we. But this cryptic game of hide-and-seek is what makes it one of the greatest historical mysteries. So many of the symbols can be interpreted in so many different ways, there’s always the possibility that all we’re really looking at is a blank slate onto which anything can be read.

  But.

  Using his ability to interpret KGC symbols—along with a mysterious map-coordinate template that was once owned by a Confederate soldier (and which he overlays onto old maps), Brewer has found treasure. As much as $200,000 worth over the past few decades. And he’s convinced he’ll be able to find more.

  Along the way, he’s also found more about the role the KGC may have played in the lives of his grandfather and uncle, who showed him his first “treasure tree” when he was a boy.

  But when it comes to the actual treasure, what further complicates matters is the possibility that this gold is buried in public cemeteries, such as the Green Hill Cemetery in Danville. The object of intense scrutiny by seekers of Confederate gold, Green Hill Cemetery could well be a prime hiding place for the $200,000 that disappeared a century ago.

  In fact, on our outing, Brewer followed a trail of KGC codes and symbols, noting the letter H carved into a few places. He insisted we were looking for a “heart”—that the H stood for “heart.” We kept looking around. There were no hearts. Brewer was still insistent. Look for the heart! By then, most of us thought he might be crazy. Until we pulled an old map of the cemetery, and—using Brewer’s template—saw a heart shape in the cemetery’s roads.