Confederate Gold and Silver (55 page)

Finished counting the coins with Jayne, Donna brought out two six-packs of Coors Light from the kitchen. Thirsty from their hard work, they all stood there enjoying the cold beer as they admired what they had found. Soon Bobby Ray was enjoying his second beer as he sat in plastic lawn chair examining the gold and silver bars which had been spread out on the folding table.

Jayne had started cleaning off the accumulated sand and soil from one section of the saddlebags when she asked Paul to confirm what the soldier’s name was he had found.

“Captain Judiah Francis. Why?”

“I’m guessing these are his saddlebags then. The initials
‘J.F.’
have been embroidered into them.”

Looking at the embroidered initials made the find of the money, as well as the other items, much more personal for Paul. He could not explain it to the others, nor did he try, but somehow he felt a connection to Captain Francis.

“This certainly appears to tie Francis to the coins, doesn’t it? This also explains why all of the money was not found in the same spot. The barrel full of money and the saddlebags full of money were likely buried at two different times. His letter tells us that, but until Jayne noticed the initials I had no way of making the connection. His letter clearly spoke of his saddlebags being stuffed with coins. I wonder if he buried them because he was being chased or because he had been shot and knew he was dying. Think about it, the graveyard and the place where I found his remains are not that far apart from each other.”

Paul then went into the house, returning a few minutes later carrying a copy of each of the letters he had found. “These are copies of the four letters I found. I guess it’s time I showed them all to you at one time. You deserve that and more for all of the hard work you have done. I’m sorry I have not shown them to you before this.”

As Donna and Paul had done when they read the letter Francis had written to his father, the others, even Bobby Ray, soon had tears in their eyes as well. Even though she had read the letter before, Jayne began to cry after reading it for a second time. Soon she was wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her dirty sweatshirt. “Paul, now we know what has driven you to find this money. Thanks for allowing us to be a part of it.” As Paul already felt, now Jayne also wished she could have met Judiah Francis.

“These letters are worth as much as the money is to me. They are priceless.” Chick had read many Civil War era letters during his career, but he told the others the letter Francis had written was the most touching he had ever read. “Very personal, truly a touching letter. I’m honored to have had a chance to read it.”

As Donna gathered up the letters, everyone else began cleaning off the coins of their accumulated sand and soil. They needed a decent cleaning before they could be taken to the bank later in the morning. Still seated at the folding table, Bobby Ray began wiping down each of the gold and silver bars with a white towel.

After they had worked for about an hour, Paul called a halt to their efforts. “I’m sure you all are as tired as I am. I know Bobby Ray has to be at work soon, but I need the rest of you to help me package all of this up so we can put it under lock and key later this morning. Go home and get a couple of hours of sleep and be back here by eleven.” Then he handed Jayne a fifty dollar bill, telling her to buy as many Tupperware containers she could find. Containers which later that morning would be filled with gold and silver coins and then placed in the safety deposit boxes he planned on renting.

With their work finally done they sat down to enjoy another beer, surrounded by piles of gold and silver coins that a few weeks ago they never would have imagined finding. Soon the others left Paul and Chick to fall asleep in the garage, protecting the money until they returned in a few hours to help move it to the bank.

******

Later in the morning, after they had packaged all of the money up into the Tupperware containers, Paul would fulfill his promise and call Duke on the phone. Paul always kept his promises. Soon both a waitress and a librarian would be pleased that he did.

Fall,
1863

24
No
Way
Out.
 

“It
is
well
that
war
is
terrible,
else
we
grow
fond
of
it.”
General
Robert
E.
Lee,
at
the
Battle
of
Fredericksburg

A noisy carriage rushing down the street outside the warehouse woke Judiah Francis up early in the morning. Lying on his bed of straw on the wooden warehouse floor, he could hear the various sounds a city makes as it wakes up each morning. He could hear people talking outside as they walked by the warehouse, he heard horses pulling wagons on the cobblestone street, and he heard people, perhaps even soldiers, arguing about something down the street. It was far more noise than he was accustomed to since they had left Richmond several weeks ago. He tried to fall back asleep, but soon realized it was a futile effort. Sitting up, Francis looked at his men who were still fast asleep on the floor around him. He marveled at their ability to stay asleep despite the noises which had woken him up. “Why are they still sleeping so soundly and I am not?”

After taking care of his personal morning necessities and after pushing open the two large wooden doors in the back of the warehouse, Francis made a small fire in one of the several fireplaces. It only took him a few minutes to warm up the remaining coffee from last night’s dinner. After pouring himself a cup, he walked around the interior of the large warehouse. He had been too hungry and too tired to do so the previous evening. As he did, he came across the various types of damaged cannons Colonel Hodges had told him about. They had been damaged, some even captured, in various battles across Virginia and North Carolina. The cannons had been transported to Charleston by both trains and wagons in the hopes of getting them shipped further south to be repaired. The hopes of getting them repaired and returned to fight again in future battles was now remote.

Francis knew from speaking with Colonel Hodges that the Confederacy, now crippled by the Union naval blockade and still without the support they had hoped would come from Europe, did not have the skilled labor to repair these damaged cannons. They also did not have the raw materials or the factories to produce new ones. While the North continued to produce cannons for their armies, the lone cannon factory in the South, the Tredegar Iron Works in Virginia, was no longer operational. The South now had little choice but to stockpile these damaged cannons in this warehouse, hoping they could find a way to have them repaired. The priority now was not to repair these damaged cannons, but rather it was trying to staff their armies with enough men to continue the war. Francis also knew trying to maintain the few remaining railroads in the South was another important priority for the Confederacy.

The Confederacy had little choice but to roll the dice, hoping their armies, victorious in so many battles early in the war, could continue to supply them with cannons they seized from the Union army. Their only other hopes for cannons were ones they could purchase from Europe, but these were few and far between because of the naval blockade.

“Captain, it’s too bad about these here cannons. Instead of them just sitting here broke and all, our boys should be using them to fight with.” Sgt. Odom’s comments startled Francis as he had not heard Odom walking towards him. Now he watched as Odom walked around the damaged cannons. He was still startled that Odom had walked up behind him without making a noise, but he knew that was a skill acquired from back home. It was learned from years of hunting in the woods.

Finished with his thoughts regarding Odom’s hunting skills, Francis responded to what his sergeant had said about the damaged cannons. “Yes, you’re right, sergeant. I’m told we have neither the men nor the proper material to fix them fast enough so they haul them here waiting for when the time is right to repair them. Just like you do, I also hope the time comes soon so we can start repairing these cannons. As you said, our boys who are fighting could surely use them. If that does not happen we will need to keep stealing them from the Yankees.

Francis then pointed to a particular Napoleon style cannon. He told Odom it looked very similar in its damage to one he had seen at the Battle of Ball’s Bluff. “I wonder if it is indeed the same one? It would be very ironic if both of us ended up in this same warehouse. Don’t you think?”

Deep in his own thoughts, Odom just nodded his head. He was thinking of some of the battles he had fought in and how scared he had been during his first real fight. The noise from the cannons had terrified him the first time he heard them roar. They had fired repeatedly at the Yankee troops charging across the battlefield that morning. Now a veteran of many battles, he chuckled to himself as he recalled being so startled when the cannons had fired for the first time. He had dropped his rifle as he tried covering his ears with his hands to block out the loud noise the cannons had made. Dropping his rifle was something his fellow soldiers had teased him about for several weeks. The cannons had made such a noise that Odom knew he would never forget the sound they made. It was noise a country boy from the woods of Alabama had never heard the likes of before. Like all soldiers, he would never forget the first fight he was in during the war.

By now the others were stirring across the warehouse and starting to move. Sitting down with his men as they drank the rest of the coffee he had left near the fire, Francis told them he was going to try one more time to arrange for them to sail south. “I am not sure any boat captain will risk losing his boat for us, but I have to try one more time.” For a couple of minutes they drank their coffee in silence as Francis thought more on how he could get them further south.

“I’ll likely be gone for a while and while I am gone I want two of you here at all times to guard the wagons. If y’all want to take turns looking out at Fort Sumter or to walk around the nearby streets that is fine with me, but two of you are here at all times. If anyone asks why we are in town, tell them whatever y’all want, except of course the real reason we are here. Do not tell anyone where we are staying as I don’t want visitors here. No one, and I mean no one, comes into the warehouse. Understood?”

Collectively his still tired group of soldiers nodded their heads at Francis. “Good,” he said as he looked back at them, “y’all should be getting some fresh coffee and biscuits soon. Enjoy them as y’all deserve that and much more for all of your hard work these past few weeks.”

As he prepared to leave them for a few hours, Francis stopped and walked back to where the men still sat on the warehouse floor drinking coffee. “Men, one more thing. I am going to try and find some mortar mix. If I do, I will arrange for it to be delivered here today. Somehow find a tub for us to mix it in when I get back. I’ll give y’all the rest of the details later.”

The news of Francis trying to find some mortar mix confused the men as none of them could figure out what he planned on using it for. During the time he was gone they tried to guess what he planned on doing with it. They would all guess wrong.

Francis spent the morning and part of the afternoon trying to find a ship to take them and their precious cargo further south. Despite his efforts, he could not convince any of the ship’s captains he talked to into risking their ships by running the blockade. Individually they each told him they had heard about too many other ships being sunk by the Union navy for them to chance running the blockade with their ships. One of the captains he talked to, Captain Thomas Henry Neugebauer, told him of the effectiveness of the blockade. “We cannot even chance running it at night anymore. Those Union ships fire all different types of colored flares when they see a ship they do not recognize out there at night. The rest of their ships then converge in the area, firing their cannons at the ship if it does not come to a stop after it’s signaled to do so. Too many boats and ships have been sunk, and too many men have died, for me to risk trying it. I’d like to as there is good money in trying it, but I just can’t risk losing my ship.”

After a few hours of speaking with captains of several ships, Francis was frustrated that no captain would risk running the blockade. Soon he realized they were protecting their ships just as he was protecting the gold and silver in his possession. He knew they were right, but still he had hoped one of them would have risked running the blockade. As he walked along the waterfront, he wondered what he would have done if he had found a ship’s captain willing to take such a risk. “If one of them had said they would do it, would I have taken that risk? Our cause would certainly not be helped if we risked moving the gold and silver by ship and then it ended up on the ocean floor. The cause would certainly be doomed then.”

Francis then turned his efforts to trying to find a way to move the gold and silver south by rail, but news of the rail lines still in operation was sketchy. He could find no one with accurate information on what trains, if any, were still running. Even his efforts to find out such information at the Charleston telegraph office proved fruitless as Union troops had caused havoc with the telegraph lines coming into the city. As he met roadblock after roadblock, and as he already knew he could not risk moving the gold and silver by ship, he now realized he also could not risk moving the money by railroad either. Chancing to move the money by railroad might also lead to it being lost as well, this time to the advancing Union army instead of to the bottom of the ocean. Frustrated by what he had learned, he sat down on a bench outside the small telegraph office. “I would rather lose the money to the bottom of the ocean than to have it fall into the hands of the Yankees.”