Confederate Gold and Silver (23 page)

Grabbing a small rubber mallet, Paul gently tapped on the small rectangle. It took three taps, but on the third tap the drilled out section of glass broke. The broken glass fell into the bottom of the bottle as he had hoped. “Wow, it actually worked!” Grudgingly he complimented Donna for her suggestion about drilling holes into the bottles. The smile he saw on her face made him realize she would be rubbing this in his face many times in the future. He knew she was savoring the moment. Focusing on the second bottle, he tapped out the glass just as he had done to the first one. Just as it did the first time, on the third gentle tap the bottom gave way and the broken glass fell inside the bottle.

Paul grabbed two small plastic shopping bags and dumped the broken glass from each bottle into separate bags, looking up at Donna as he did. “Just in case we need to prove we opened the bottles this way to someone else later on.” She nodded back at him, realizing he had thought of everything.

Using a pair of needle nose pliers, due to the sharp edges of glass lining the broken hole in each bottle, Paul gently grabbed the papers in the first bottle and moved them closer to the opening he had made. Finally able to grab the papers between two of his fingers, he removed them from the bottle with great care. As he laid each of them down on a towel Donna had spread out on the table, he could see sections of the paper had been stained, possibly from condensation that had gotten into the bottle or from moisture having been in the bottle when the papers were placed inside it. Remarkably the papers appeared to be in great condition. As he placed them on the table, Donna continued to click away with the digital camera.

As Paul carefully unfolded the first set of papers, the ones that had been in the smaller of the two bottles, an impatient Donna asked the obvious question for the moment. “Well, what is it? Is it a letter or what?”

Paul was slowly unfolding the three pieces of paper that had been folded first and then rolled up so they would fit into the neck of the bottle. “Patience young lady, patience. I don’t want to rip the papers. Is the video camera getting this?”

Sarcastically Donna answered her husband. “No, Paul, I shut it off just before this important moment! Of course it is. You’re killing me with the suspense; tell me what you are looking at!”

The three pieces of paper were faded from their original off-white color. As Paul carefully finished unfolding them, he saw they were actually two letters which had been folded together. Sitting down after laying the papers out on the table, it took a moment for his brain to register the significance of the signature he was looking at. When it finally did he quickly stood up, stunned by what he was now looking at. Quietly he whispered the name out loud. Standing near the opposite side of the table, Donna was startled by his quick reaction after seeing the signature. She was startled enough that she backed away from the table so quickly she nearly fell to the floor as she tried not to trip over a nearby box on the garage floor. “Paul, you idiot, you scared the hell out of me. I almost fell avoiding that stupid box of yours on the floor. What did you see that caused you to react like you did?”

As she walked back around the table, she was about to take the papers out of his hands when Paul told her not to. “Donna, whatever you do, do not touch these papers with your bare hands. This is amazing!”

Donna was not a history buff like her husband was, but when she saw the signature on the bottom of the second page, a signature written over one hundred and fifty years ago by President Jefferson Davis, even she knew the importance of the papers found within the bottle. As she put her hands up to her face, she weakly mumbled a surprised reaction to seeing the Davis signature. “Oh, my God!”

At first, Paul did not completely read the Davis letter as he was too interested in seeing whose signature was on the second one page letter. The second letter had been neatly folded over the Davis letter. Looking at the second signature, he saw only a partial one as part of the first name appeared to have been damaged by moisture. Not recognizing the last name he was now looking at, he did not know at first who
Ch
Memminger
was. Silently he guessed at the first name. “Was it Charles, or could it be Christopher, or is it some other name?”

A question Donna asked interrupted his thoughts about the smudged signature he was looking at. “Paul, I know this is another of my stupid questions, but these are real letters, not fakes, right?”

“I guess, I mean sure, I mean . . . . well I guess what I mean is I don’t know, but found in a bottle, and in the clothing of someone who we believe to have been a Confederate soldier, I guess they have to be real. Look how the first name in this second letter has been damaged by moisture. I don’t know if a signature on a reproduction of a letter would run like that when the ink became wet. I think they have to be original letters.”

Paul then read the letter out loud so Donna could hear what President Davis had written so many years ago.

August
3,
1863

Richmond,
Va.

To
Whom
It
May
Concern:

Please
extend
to
Captain
Judiah
Francis,
of
the
Army
of
Northern
Virginia,
and
to
all
who
travel
with
him,
free
and
unobstructed
passage
through
our
Confederate
States
of
America.
This
includes
the
use
of
any
rail
lines
that
Captain
Francis
deems
necessary
to
use.
He
is
to
be
granted
priority
use
of
any
railroad
at
anytime
he
deems
it
prudent.

Captain
Francis
has
been
selected
for
an
assignment,
by
both
General
Lee
and
me.
This
assignment
is
both
secret
and
sensitive
to
the
needs
of
our
cause
and
must
not
be
interrupted,
or
delayed,
for
any
reason.
His
orders
come
personally
from
me.

With
Warmest
Regards,

Pres.
Jefferson
Davis

With the letters still spread out on the table, Paul reread the letter written by President Davis to himself. Afraid of damaging them, he kept his hands away from the pages of the letters. Still shocked at what they had found, Donna remained silent for several more minutes as her eyes darted from page to page, trying to comprehend the historical significance of the letters at the same time. As he read the Davis letter for the second time, Paul used a magnifying glass to decipher a couple of words as the pages had appeared to have been folded and then refolded a few times in the past. For the most part, he was amazed at the condition of the letter.

Paul then turned his attention to the second letter. He read it to himself the first time and then twice out loud so Donna could hear what had been written.

August
3,
1863

Richmond,
Virginia

Sir,

The
fate
of
our
cause,
and
the
survival
of
our
Confederate
States,
rests
with
the
ability
of
Captain
Judiah
Francis
to
complete
a
mission
for
my
office,
and
most
importantly,
for
all
of
us.

Please
extend
to
him
the
courtesies
you
would
expect
a
Confederate
officer,
on
assignment
from
the
Office
of
the
President,
and
from
my
office,
deserves.

Affectionately,

Ch
Memminger

Secretary
of
the
Treasury

Confederate
States
of
America

After reading the letters Paul knew a great deal more than he had, but still he could not figure out what the soldier’s assignment had been about. Donna then verbalized the same thoughts he was having. “Well, I guess it’s safe to assume, and I know you do not assume anything, but in this case I bet it’s safe to assume our dead soldier is Captain Judiah Francis who the letters refer to. We at least now know who this Memminger fellow was; he was the Secretary of the Confederate Treasury. But what is this mission, this assignment, the two letters are referring to I wonder? Neither letter tells you much about that. What do you think they are referring to?” Her husband was as equally confused by the contents of the letters as she was.

“At first blush, and I am just guessing, these letters seem to be written for the sole purpose of giving this Confederate officer, this Captain Francis fellow, and whoever is travelling with him, special permission to move unmolested about the South, especially south of Richmond. The Davis letter clearly authorizes him to use any of the Confederate railroads that he might need to use. Right now I have no idea why, but it’s obvious, because of the signatures on the two letters, that something important was happening.”

They both stared at the letters for the next several minutes, looking closely at the somewhat faded writing on the yellowish pages. They did so for another ten minutes or so when Paul, regaining his focus, looked at Donna with a wrinkled smile. Pointing to the second bottle, he asked her, “So what’s in the second bottle?” Like Paul, she had been so taken back by the discovery of the first two letters that she had also momentarily forgotten about the second bottle.

Without answering his question, Donna simply picked up the towel and handed it to him. “Let’s find out!”

As Paul wrapped the towel around the second bottle, whose glass bottom had not broken as cleanly as the first one had, he again used the needle nose pliers to move the folded up papers closer to the hole so he could grab them with his fingers. As he did, he could not help but notice the enthusiasm Donna now displayed. It was totally out of character for her to get excited with anything related to history. As with the first bottle, she now took several digital photos to document what he was doing with the second one.

After removing the folded papers from the second bottle in the same manner as he did with the ones in the first bottle, Paul gently unrolled the papers on the towel laying on top of the folding table. As with the first set of papers, he noticed they again comprised two separate letters. They were letters like the first two they had just read; ones once written on white paper which had faded over time. Another smaller piece of paper was folded up between the two letters. As he compared the two letters to each other, Paul noticed the penmanship appeared to be from the same person. He also noticed the writing on one of the letters appeared to be much neater. His first thought after seeing the difference between the neatness of the penmanship was a logical one. “It’s almost as if the writer was not as rushed, or as hurried as he possibly had been when he had written the second letter.”

Paul first read the letter with the neater penmanship of the two. He saw the letter had been written on November 10, 1863. It appeared to have been written in Charleston, South Carolina.

Dear
President
Davis,

It
is
with
great
regret
that
I
must
advise
you
that
I
have
failed
in
my
mission.
It
is
my
hope
to
tell
you
the
details
of
our
struggle
in
person,
but
in
the
event
of
my
death,
I
have
instructed
my
men,
of
which
only
three
are
still
alive
with
me,
to
deliver
this
letter
to
you.
Please
know
we
have
tried
our
best
to
fulfill
the
orders
you
personally
gave
me.