Read Confederate Gold and Silver Online

Authors: Peter F. Warren

Confederate Gold and Silver (28 page)

Paul smirked at the good natured shot Steve had given him for having his picture in the papers and for his face being all over the local television news recently as a result of discovering the Confederate soldier’s remains. “That must have been quite the exciting first boat ride,” Steve said as the waitress took their drink orders. Steve and Donna elected to share a bottle of Kendall Jackson Vinter’s Reserve Chardonnay, while Paul decided to stay with Jack and Coke. As she took their drink orders, Paul asked the waitress for a small favor. “Please tell the bartender I’d like a little more Jack and a little less Coke in the next one.” Handing her his empty glass, he thanked her for her assistance, hoping it would result in a stiffer drink than the first one he just had.

Steve joked with Paul about his first drink and then asked him if he was disappointed with it. “Yeah, kind of, but I understand the guy who owns this place tells the bartenders to water down the drinks so the booze lasts longer. You know, more drinks out of one bottle equals more money.” Paul’s comments were meant as a joke and Steve took them as they were intended to be, but Donna’s face turned a somewhat red. Even though she knew Paul was joking she thought his comment was a bit harsh, especially to someone they barely knew.

Sensing Donna was uncomfortable with the comment Paul had made, Steve quickly assured her he knew it had been made in jest. “Owning a bar I hear these jokes all the time. Please don’t think I was offended as I like being able to laugh with friends, besides I’ll just mark up the drink prices next time he comes in so I can get even with him. He will never know what hit him.” Donna and Paul quickly laughed at Steve’s comments. His comments made her feel more relaxed as she knew he had not been offended. She made Steve promise to live up to his threat of charging her husband more for his future drinks.

Over the next two hours they talked like old friends do when they share drinks and a meal together. They laughed and joked about their lives, learned more about Steve and his interests, and Paul shared with him some additional details on how he had found the soldier’s remains. He told Steve most of what he had found along with the remains, but intentionally left out a few of the details. During dinner, when he thought the time was right, Paul told Steve about hearing of the legend of the lost Confederate treasury and asked him what he knew about it. Steve confirmed to him it was a story, real or imagined that most true Southerners knew about. He also told Paul it seemed as if almost everyone had their own version of what had happened to the money. As he talked about what he knew about the alleged Confederate treasury, he also told Paul something totally unexpected. “Unlike most people, I don’t really have an opinion on what happened to it. I guess it’s because I never really thought about it too much. I’m like your wife in that regard as in school history never really interested me much.”

Steve then surprised Paul again by telling him one of his best friends, and his sometime golfing partner, Chick Mann, was an American History professor at the University of South Carolina. He also mentioned that Chick was somewhat thought of as a Civil War expert by many people. Surprising him again, he offered to call his friend so Paul could talk to someone about what he had found. “He teaches history and he knows his stuff. I know from talking to him that people often call him when they find something related to the war, so I guess he would be a good guy for you to speak with. I’m sure he would love to hear what you have found.”

“Fine,” Paul replied, accepting Steve’s offer to call Chick for him. “I would be happy to speak with him.”

During two more rounds of after dinner drinks the conversation returned to other local topics and issues. After they finished their drinks over dessert, they chatted for almost another hour before saying their goodbyes. As they walked to their cars, Donna promised Steve they would soon call him to invite him over for dinner. “I just need to do a little more unpacking first. We need to have you over for a nice meal on my good plates. I’m certainly not serving you your first meal at our house on paper plates.”

Steve warmly accepted the invitation and told them he looked forward to hearing from them soon. After opening the car door for her, Donna got into their car. For a brief few moments, Steve and Paul stood near the rear of Paul’s car and shook hands while they said their goodbyes. As they did, Steve held the handshake for a few moments longer than normal. Staring at Paul, who had now made eye contact with him, Steve spoke to him about the gold coins he had found. “I hope you find the rest of that gold. You call me if you need anything or if anyone tries to get in your way.” Then he walked away and got into his Mercedes.

As Paul watched him walk to his car, he thought about Steve’s last comment to him. “Does he know about the gold coins I found or is he just guessing?”

Paul and Donna had been driving home in silence, savoring both their meal and the nice conversations they just had with Steve. The quiet was interrupted by the country music ring tone on Paul’s Verizon cell phone; it was announcing an incoming call. Answering the call, he learned Steve had remained back in the restaurant parking lot to reach out to his friend. “Chick is very interested in meeting with you about what you have found. He wants to know if you can meet him at Coastal Carolina University on Tuesday morning, say around ten or so. He has a meeting there at nine, but expects to be done just before ten. He said to meet him in the small courtyard out in front of the Kimbel Library. The school is just off of U.S. 501; it’s probably only a twenty minute drive from the Inlet. Is that OK with you?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem; I am actually looking forward to speaking with him. Thanks for setting the meeting up for me. Hey, we had a great time tonight. We will do it again soon, I promise.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Give your pretty wife a kiss good night for me. Take care.”

******

The following morning was a lazy one for Donna and Paul as they each had been flat out the entire week. They slept late and spent a good part of the morning reading the newspaper as they drank their morning coffee.

Late in the afternoon after unpacking a few more of their belongings, which had been neglected by the recent purchase of the boat and the finding of the soldier’s remains, Paul took out the soldier’s watch from the cardboard moving box he had hidden it in. He wanted to try and clean it as he hoped it might contain a few more clues for him. After examining it for a few minutes, he began to gently clean away the rust and grime from the watch’s exterior. Using a soft piece of cloth and a fine brush, he carefully took his time cleaning away some of the rust from around the hinge and clasp.

Cautiously applying some pressure to the clasp area, Paul was surprised when the watch opened relatively easy. He was again surprised when he found the interior of the watch to be in very good condition. Only a small stain on the bottom of the watch’s interior marred its face. It had likely been caused by moisture getting under the glass face. He was pleased to see the face of the watch was still in excellent condition.

Paul had hoped to find a picture of someone, perhaps the soldier’s sweetheart or his mother, on the left side of the watch when he opened it, but none were there. Looking at the watch, he saw it had long ago stopped running. It had stopped running at 7:58. “I wonder if it was a.m. or p.m.?”

Afraid he would harm the watch by trying to wind it with the small key he had found in one of the pockets of the blouse, Paul did not try to wind it. He feared doing so might permanently damage the watch and that he might never get it to run again. As he looked at the time displayed on the watch, he noticed the name
Waltham
on its face. He made a mental note to Google the name of the watchmaker to see what he could find out about them. Carefully closing the watch, he now focused his attention on the front of it. Gently he cleaned the outside so he could see what had been engraved there. As he did, he saw the initials he had hoped to see, they become clearer once most of the grime had been cleared away. The simple engraving read
‘J.F.’
.

By simple deduction, Paul was fairly confident the initials were likely those of Captain Judiah Francis, whose letters, to both his father and to President Davis, he had found in the bottles. “Another part of the puzzle has come together.”

After carefully securing the watch back in its hiding place, Paul went to his computer and Googled
Waltham
watches
on his laptop. The Waltham Watch Company had been a fairly large maker of watches for a period of time in the 1800’s and, as the website showed, they had even been the maker of a pocket watch, a Model 1859—a
William
Ellery
pocket watch—which President Abraham Lincoln had been the owner of. Lincoln’s watch had a recorded serial number of 67673. Reading about Lincoln’s watch, he wondered about the specifics of the one he had found. “I don’t dare open it, but I wonder what year it was made in and what the serial number is. I will have to find that out somehow.”

As he continued to read about the Waltham Watch Company, Paul could not help but to realize the irony that existed regarding a pocket watch which had been made in the North, in Waltham, Massachusetts to be precise. It was a watch that had been carried by an officer of the Confederate Army. He quickly realized it was likely due to the fact the industrial North was further ahead of the South at that time in our country’s history when it came to making items like watches.

Paul made a few notes about what he had found on the internet regarding the watch and then shut down his computer. As he did, Donna hollered to him that it was almost time to take a shower and to get dressed for the cookout at Bobby Ray’s home. Later, as he started getting dressed, Paul caught himself smiling. He knew he had been looking forward to spending an evening with his good friend. Enjoying the night with good friends, laughing over a few drinks, and sharing a great meal was all he needed. It was what life was supposed to be all about.

As he finished getting dressed for the evening, Paul pondered whether he should tell Bobby Ray about the gold coins, the watch, and the other items he had found. He wanted to tell him, but soon he realized this was not the right time. He knew he had more leads to follow up on and he did not want any distractions stopping him from learning what he needed to know about his secret collection of items. “I’ll tell him, but not right now. He’s going to be mad at me for not telling him, but I’ll make him understand why I didn’t. At least I hope I can.”

******

In the coming days and weeks, as he worked on the few leads he developed, Paul could never have guessed where those leads would take him. It was a journey that was just beginning to address a Southern legend which had existed for almost one hundred and fifty years. It would be a remarkable journey for him to make.

Summer,
1863

14
The
Race
to
Charleston.
 

“That
man
will
fight
us
every
day
and
every
hour
till
the
end
of
the
war.”
Lt.
General
James
Longstreet,
CSA,
describing
Union
General
U.S.
Grant

Francis and his men pushed their horses hard to put distance between their precious cargo and the Union troops who would soon be arriving in Charlotte. Forgoing food and rest they pushed on, fearing Union troops would soon begin to pursue them. Francis knew they still had at least six more days of hard travel before they reached Florence and, hopefully, the still operating North Eastern Railroad. But he knew if he pushed the horses too hard they would die and then he would never get his precious cargo to where he needed to get it to. Pushing the horses was a risk he was not willing to take as the chances of finding replacement horses were few. Horses strong enough to pull the heavy wagons were harder and harder to find these days because of the demands of the war. Now he began to slow their pace.

As he slowed the pace of the wagons so the horses could rest to some degree as they moved south, their pace grew even slower when they were forced to travel over difficult terrain. The ground had been made soft by two days of steady rain and during that time several of the wagons had sunk up to their axles in the mud they had encountered. Still they pushed on, with Francis only allowing them to pause for brief spells so both horses and men could be fed.

As the horses always did, now his men did the same. The men ate cold meals for several days as Francis, out of fear that a campfire would alert Union troops to their whereabouts, refused to allow the men to cook a hot meal. The men ate what little food they could prepare in a short amount of time and then they pushed forward again. His men grumbled about the meager amount of food they had been given, but they knew Francis had eaten even less than they had. They grumbled like all soldiers do when they are not fed well, but even they knew the risk had been too great to start a fire.

As they travelled into the early evening hours of their fifth day since leaving Charlotte, Francis sent out scouts in different directions to determine if any Union troops could be seen. When the last of his scouts reported back to him they had found nothing in the way of any pursuing Yankee troops, Francis ordered a halt for the day and the wagons moved into a small clearing within a lightly wooded area. They were now only five miles northwest of Monroe, North Carolina when they stopped for the evening. As a reward for their efforts in pushing hard for the last couple of days during heavy rain and over bad terrain, and because he finally felt they were safe from any Union troops, Francis allowed a fire to be built. That evening the men enjoyed their first hot meal in several days.

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