Confederate Gold and Silver

by Peter F. Warren

  After ending the phone call, Paul walked a few blocks until he got to the Charleston Holiday Inn—Mills House. It was one he had seen on Meeting Street earlier in the day. Once there, he reserved three hotel rooms for the next three days. He hoped they would find what they were looking for before the hotel reservations expired.

  ******

  Four hours later Chick and Jayne were finally pulling into Charleston. They barely had time to check into the Holiday Inn before Paul was dragging them down to where the cannons silently stood in the park off of South Battery Road.

  As they neared the park, both Chick and Jayne could sense the tone of excitement in Paul’s voice over the discovery he had made. Despite their best efforts at prying the big surprise from him, he resisted their efforts, waiting instead for them to see in person what it was that had made him so excited.

  “There she is!” Smiling, Paul proudly pointed at the Banded Brooks cannon which held the clue he hoped would soon lead them to other cannons in the city. Other cannons hopefully with similar markings to the ones he now showed Chick and Jayne.

  “OK, we see the cannon. So what’s this got to do with you being so excited and dragging us down here in the middle of the night? I cannot believe one old cannon has gotten you so excited!” Chick still did not grasp what the connection was between the clues and the cannon he was looking at.

  “This cannon and hopefully other ones we are going to find in the city are the ‘strong solid black friends of ours’. Like I told you on the phone, Francis was talking about cannons, not slaves. He also talked about the cannons being, and I quote, ‘even in number, remain loyal protectors of our C.S.A. assets. I am confident that you will find them in excellent shape, even in years to come.’ Get it? He knew the cannons would hold their shape, staying strong and hard even years after he wrote the letter. If he was talking about slaves, just like any other group of people they would get old and tired, even die off, but the cannons are still in great shape. Even after all of these years of sitting here in this park.”

  “So you’re saying, what?”

  “OK, come take a closer look. Give me the flashlight.”

  Handing him the flashlight, Chick and Jayne moved closer to the cannon behind where Paul stood. “Look closely at the end of the cannon. See here, somewhat crudely inscribed in the mortar are the letters CSA. Under the letters is the number 10. Come look at this next cannon.” Walking several yards to where the next cannon sat permanently mounted on a stand in the park, Paul showed them the same inscription in the mortar. It was an inscription just like the previous one, one which had been scratched into the cannon’s mortar many years ago. “See, this inscription also reads CSA. Look under the letters, the number 16 has been inscribed into the mortar. Are you getting it yet?”

  “Well?”

  Excited by what he had figured out, Paul could not help but laugh as he sensed Chick’s frustration at not understanding what the inscriptions meant. “OK, let’s look at the next cannon.”

  “Paul, are you trying to tell us the rest of the Confederate gold and silver has been hidden in these cannons for all of these years?” Jayne was just now starting to catch on.

  “Yep, but not in this one. Look closely at this inscription. It is similar to the other two, but it has the number 11 inscribed in it. Let’s go back to the letter for a moment. We know Francis wrote about something protecting the CSA assets. We now know he was talking about cannons and not slaves. He also wrote they were ‘even in number’. He repeats the word ‘even’ in the next sentence and in both sentences the word ‘even’ is underlined. It is the only word in the entire letter which has been underlined. He did that to stress his point. I think only the cannons with an even number under the CSA inscription have gold and silver in them. The odd numbers, and at this point who knows how many there are of them, were likely just cannons possibly made to blend in with the others; others which have been marked with even numbers. You know, decoys or something like that.”

  A puzzled look now on her face, Jayne looked back at the cannon displaying the odd number in the mortar. “A decoy?”

  “I’m not sure, but yes, that’s my guess. Look, the letter talks about the assets being secured within a Confederate warehouse on the King Street road. That would have been right around the corner from here. In fact, the road over there is King Street. We tried looking for the warehouse when we came down here recently, remember? I’m confident now that Francis spent time in a warehouse and these cannons were there also. For some reason our soldier felt trapped or possibly it was for some other reason, but he saw these cannons as being his only way of keeping the gold and silver out of the hands of the advancing Union army. Who knows, perhaps the cannons were damaged ones or perhaps the warehouse was a repair facility, but think of it, what an ingenious way to hide the gold and silver. Who would ever think to hide gold and silver coins within a cannon barrel? For that matter, who would even think to look for gold and silver coins in a cannon barrel? I know I wouldn’t. When the war was over the cannons were not needed any longer and they were later likely placed in parks, perhaps around the entire city, as a means to honor those men who served the Confederacy so well. By the way, the answer to my previous question is apparently no one!”

  Chick had barely said a word the entire time he was being shown the inscriptions in the cannons. He had chosen to just listen as Paul attempted to convince them what he had uncovered earlier in the day was the clue they had been searching for. He finally started to speak, but waited a couple of minutes until some nearby residents, out for an evening walk with their dog, had gotten out of earshot.

  “Paul, I disagree with you. You said no one would ever think to look in these cannons for the missing money. But I think the correct answer is one person would and that’s you. And now, and without speaking for Jayne, I think the number is three. Like I have been, I suspect she also has been convinced the cannons hold the rest of the missing money. Convince us some more.”

  “Hopefully I can tomorrow. I have one more thing for you to think about tonight though. The Francis letter says in the last paragraph, and again I quote, ‘while even in number’. It also talks about money being held in his saddlebags. The letter also says he ‘could not force them to protect what they could not’. We found his saddlebags, right? Jayne, you were the one who found his initials on the saddlebags. What I’m saying is that he likely put the money in up to twelve cannons and then marked some of them with even numbers and some with odd numbers. His letter has the number twelve in it. We just don’t know yet what the combination of the twelve numbers are. We know we have to find twelve cannons, but we don’t know how many have odd numbers inscribed into them and how many have even numbers with similar inscriptions. Hopefully we will know that answer tomorrow. I’m also guessing what he could not fit into those cannons he put into his saddlebags. Those were the gold and silver coins we found in the saddlebags buried in the cemetery. The letter tells us he was planning on going back to retrieve the gold and silver he had already buried in South Carolina. That was the money he had left with the children of Governor Allston. He likely went back to get the money, got shot, and was perhaps dying when he buried the saddlebags a few feet away from the first pile of money they had buried in the flour barrel. That explains why he never came back to get the money out of the cannons. He and his men were probably killed before they could return to get the money. He got back to the cemetery and buried his saddlebags, but then he apparently died after being shot. Is this making any sense to either of you?”

  “Paul, you’ve convinced us, now all we have to do tomorrow is to find the other cannons.” Jayne and Chick exchanged excited smiles with each other at the thought of finding the rest of the missing Confederate treasury. They knew they were very close to finding it.

  As they walked back to their hotel, it was Chick’s turn to ask Paul one last question for the night. “Just tell me w
e are not going to jackhammer the concrete out of these cannons in the middle of the night.”

  “We aren’t, at least not yet we aren’t, but I like your way of thinking though. We will figure it out, but not tonight, I’m too tired.”

  Before returning to the hotel they shared a late dinner together at a small restaurant on Wentworth Street. It was one which specialized in Southern fried chicken. After returning to the hotel, they agreed to meet in the hotel’s restaurant the following morning to decide upon a strategy to search for the remaining cannons. As they waited in the lobby for the elevator to take them to their rooms, Jayne clasped Paul’s hands with hers. “Paul, you did it. The money has to be in those cannons, it has to be.”

  “Let’s hope so. Thanks for coming down here tonight on such short notice. You and Chick have been a big help.”

  ******

  First to arrive at the restaurant the following morning, Paul was pleased to see he had a few minutes to himself. Waiting for Chick and Jayne before ordering his breakfast, he sat in one of the booths drinking his first cup of coffee and reading the morning’s USA Today. He had been reading the paper for almost twenty minutes when they both came into the restaurant.

  “Morning, Paul!” Unrehearsed, they both greeted him at the same time.

  “Morning back at you!” Paul did not even look up from the article he was reading as they both slipped into the other side of the booth.

  “Something good in the paper that’s got your attention this morning?”

  “I’m reading this article which talks about so many cities and towns across the country that are facing tough economic times. It talks about budget deficits and budget cuts, both of which have resulted in so many communities being forced to cut back on services they have routinely provided in the past to their residents. So many communities are being forced to cut services so they can maintain their budgets to some extent. It’s kind of ironic that one of the cities they are referencing in the article is Charleston.”

  More interested in looking over the breakfast menu than listening to what Paul was saying, Chick only casually listened to what was being said. “So what’s so different about Charleston compared to all of those other communities and what’s so interesting about this particular article? These stories are in the papers and on the television news everyday it seems. Frankly, I cannot bear to read anymore of these articles as all they do is tell us more and more bad news about the economy. Between the television news and the newspapers, I’m tired of reading and hearing about it, it’s just so damn depressing.”

  Paul finished reading the article and then put the newspaper down before he answered Chick’s question about Charleston being mentioned. “The difference is not every city in 2011 can host an anniversary celebration. It’s a year which happens to be, as you esteemed instructors of American History know, the one hundred and fiftieth year of the start of the Civil War. A war, I remind you both, which started darn close to the same street where I showed you the three cannons last night. Two of those cannons are sitting there still packed with some of the missing Confederate treasury. Think of the magnitude of such an anniversary. To me, something celebrating its one hundred and fiftieth anniversary must be a fairly important event to remember as we don’t seem to celebrate insignificant events in history. The newspaper article talks about Charleston being forced to cancel the city’s big celebration they were planning for the sesquicentennial anniversary of the Civil War because of budget problems. That historic anniversary is what separates Charleston from the other cities being talked about in the article.”

  Realizing he had been talking too loud, Paul quickly turned around in the booth to see if anyone had heard him. Fortunately the restaurant was not very busy. The two waitresses who were working were busy chatting up the restaurant manager on the other side of the room. He was relieved to see no one had heard him.

  Chick just stared at Paul for a moment before he spoke. “The what anniversary? How did you know that?”

  “Sesquicentennial, it means one hundred and fifty years. Chick, tell me you did not know that?”

  “I hate to show my ignorance, but . . . .”

  “I know what it means!” Interrupting Chick, Jayne briefly smiled as she looked at Paul. The twinkle in her eye told him she was about to say something sarcastic. She then told both of them what she knew about the term sesquicentennial. “I would have thought Chick would have known what sesquicentennial meant as well. Maybe he needs to expand his areas of knowledge a bit before he even contemplates going on Jeopardy.” It was her attempt at a good natured jab at her mentor. The jab worked as Chick now stared at her in disbelief, not sure if she had actually known what sesquicentennial meant or if she was just pulling his leg.

  After they ordered their breakfast, Jayne asked Paul what the game plan was for the day regarding the cannons they hoped to find.

  “Well, I was not prepared for this to happen when I left the house with Donna yesterday so all my maps of Charleston are back at home. I guess to start with we need to find a few new ones so we can each work off the same style of map. Then we can split up so we can cover the parks and some other areas where the cannons might be located in the city. The Visitor’s Center has a good map and I know it has the city’s parks displayed on it. We can stop there first and pick up a few copies to work with. While we are there we might as well pick their brains for any other possible locations to check. How’s that sound?”

  Between bites of his toasted cinnamon raisin bagel, Chick answered Paul. “Sounds good to us. We just have to hope we can find the other cannons somewhere in the city. If we don’t, who knows where they might be after all of this time.”

  Over their breakfast and a second cup of coffee, Paul worked out the final details of the search with them. “I’ll keep a record of where we find the cannons. You guys just call me each time you find one and tell me the number inscribed into the mortar. Tell me the location where you find it as well and then I’ll call the other person so we are not wasting time checking places which have already been looked at. Try not to venture out of the area you are covering so we aren’t stepping on each others toes.”

  As they finished up their breakfast, the waitress brought over the bill. Paul thanked her and asked for a large black hazelnut coffee to go. “I’ll take care of breakfast today. It’s the least I can do to show you my appreciation for coming down here on such short notice.” After paying the bill, he grabbed his coffee to go. They were off to locate Francis’ strong black friends.

  Walking along Ann Street to one of the Visitor Center kiosks, Jayne asked Paul a question similar to the one Chick had posed last night. “Once we locate the cannons we still have to find a way to retrieve the gold and silver from them. Have you figured that out yet?”

  “I’ve got some of the details worked out in my head, but not all of them. I think I’m going to have the mayor of this fine city do some of the dirty work for us.”

  Jayne laughed at his answer, at first thinking he was joking with her. Looking at his face as they continued to walk along on the sidewalk, she quickly realized he had not been joking with her. “The mayor? He’s going to think we are nuts when we tell him what we want to do. Why would he want to help us?”

  “I don’t believe he is going to think we are nuts at all. I have no doubts at all that he is going to help us. In fact, I know he is going to help us, seeing we are going to indirectly help him with his upcoming campaign for the vacant United States senate seat he is seeking.”

  Paul’s comment caused Chick and Jayne to stop dead in their tracks as they turned onto Ann Street. “We’re going to help him with what?” The incredulous look from Chick made Paul laugh as he knew neither of them could possibly have known what angle he had lined up in his head. But then they had not read the story in the newspaper. It was a story he knew would soon help them get the cannons opened so they could
get to the gold and silver hidden within them.

  “Listen, do you think Mayor William Davis wants to be remembered as the mayor who cancelled the Civil War’s 150th Anniversary Celebration in the city where it all started? Personally, I don’t think he wants to be remembered this way. Cancelling the celebration means too much to the hotels, to the restaurants, and to all of the other businesses who make their living off the tourist dollars spent here in Charleston. The Civil War is still a big historical event to people across the South and the negative political exposure in cancelling such an event is far too great for a senatorial candidate to expose himself to. The fact that Charleston, like many other municipalities across the country, is facing budget problems does not matter. People will equate the cancellation of the anniversary celebration to him and their disappointment in the celebration being cancelled will be remembered at election time. The mayor will not want to incur their wrath at the polls, so he will help us. He just doesn’t know it yet, but when we present it to him this way he will help us. He may think in his own way that we are nuts, but all politicians like money and votes. When he hears we are going to give him the money Charleston needs to pay for the anniversary celebration, he’s going to very quickly see the positive side of helping us get the cannons opened. Opening those cannons for us is going to be a huge help for his political campaign. It’s a simple math formula if you think really about it. His help plus the money Charleston gets from us equals votes.”

  Chick, who had stared at Paul as he listened to what he had planned for the mayor, continued to stare at him even after he had finished talking. “You know, you scare me.”

  “I what? How do I do that?” Paul could not help but smile at what Chick had just said to him.

  “Yesterday, without anything to help you except a casual remark your wife made about the markings she saw on a cannon, you quickly figured out the clues regarding the cannons. You figured out what the inscriptions left on the cannons meant and all of that. You made all of those connections in a very short period of time. Then this morning, in about twenty minutes tops, after reading a simple newspaper article, you calculated a way to get the mayor of Charleston to help us so it would benefit his future political career. Last night I was struggling to keep up with you when you showed us the markings on the cannons and when you were telling us what they all meant. Hell, I was even struggling to figure out what I wanted for breakfast in the restaurant this morning. Now you have the rest of the details pretty much worked out to make this work to our advantage. You know, I consider myself to be an educated man and a pretty intelligent one as well, but your brain definitely works differently than mine does. I do wish I had your reasoning skills. That, my friend, is how you scare me.”