The Oak Island Mystery (2 page)
Read The Oak Island Mystery Online
Authors: Lionel & Patricia Fanthorpe
T
he
mystery of the Oak Island Money Pit is equalled only by the riddle of whatever it was that Father Bérenger Saunière and Marie Dénarnaud found at Rennes-le-Château a century ago, and by Monsieur Fradin's amazing discoveries at Glozel near Vichy in 1924.
In some ways all three stories are remarkably similar: in one vital respect they are very different. Whatever else may be in doubt about the Rennes mystery, Saunière had access to vast wealth â and for over thirty years he was a singularly conspicuous consumer. With the possible exception of John Pitblado (Pitbladdo in some accounts) no one has yet found â let alone spent â any of the Oak Island treasure; and the mysterious Glozel inscriptions have yet to be deciphered.
The heart of the Nova Scotian enigma is a very deep shaft sunk into Oak Island, which lies just off the coast of Chester, in Mahone Bay, in Lunenburg County. Roughly thirty-three metres below the surface are what appear to be two cunningly designed flood tunnels which link the shaft to the Atlantic Ocean. Augmented by a subterranean river, these flood tunnels have so far defeated every attempt to recover whatever may lie buried at the foot of the mysterious old shaft, and those attempts have now been going on for almost two hundred years.
The modern part of the story begins in 1795. One summer afternoon Daniel McGinnis, who was then a teenaged farm boy, rowed out to explore uninhabited Oak Island. He came across a small clearing in which was a saucer shaped depression about four metres across. Beside it stood an oak with one sturdy branch lopped off to correspond with the centre of the hollow. An old ship's block and tackle hung from this lopped branch. Daniel fetched two friends in his own age group, John Smith and Anthony Vaughan. The lads began to dig. They soon realized that they were re-excavating a circular shaft. The tough clay walls clearly bore the pick marks of whoever had originally dug the shaft. Within a metre of the surface the boys discovered a layer of stone slabs. The rock from which the slabs were cut was from Gold River, about three kilometres up the mainland coast.
As if the Gold River slabs and pick marks in the clay were not evidence enough of the shaft's importance, three metres down the boys struck a platform of transverse oak logs embedded firmly in the clay walls of the shaft. The outer surfaces were decaying; the oak platform had evidently been there a long time. The boys prised it out and discovered that the soil below it had settled to leave a vertical gap of about half a metre. Encouraged by the thought that such elaborate and laborious work probably concealed a very considerable treasure, they dug on with renewed enthusiasm. Between the six-and-seven metre levels they encountered another transverse oak platform, and between nine and ten metres down they found another platform.
Realizing that an excavation on this scale was more than they could handle, the lads decided to call on adult relatives and friends to help.
That small beginning was almost two centuries ago. During the intervening years many ingenious and courageous mining engineers â often equipped with the latest technology and pumping equipment â have attempted to solve the mystery. So far all have failed. Like Rennes-le-Château and Glozel, Oak Island refuses to give up its secret.
Our site investigations on Oak Island itself, and on neighbouring Frog Island â where there appears to be a similar shaft which may well be linked to Oak Island â led us to consider seven major possibilities:
(a) that the Money Pit was constructed to hold several substantial British Army pay chests (dating from the American War of Independence) to keep them safe from the Americans and their French allies;
(b) that it was the work of Sir Francis Drake's men in the sixteenth century and was built to hold captured Spanish gold;
(c) that it was dug by William Kidd, or some other privateer or pirate, during the seventeenth century;
(d) that it was constructed as the tomb of an Arif, or Holy Man, who had led a party of religious refugees over the Atlantic to Nova Scotia â this is George Young's fascinating hypothesis;
(e) that it was built four centuries ago to house precious original manuscripts, possibly even the controversial works of Francis Bacon;
(f) that it was constructed by Norsemen, or early Welsh sea rovers, perhaps as a royal burial place;
(g) that it was constructed to conceal part of the mysterious Rennes-le-Château “Arcadian Treasure” possibly brought from Europe by Verrazano in the 1530s, and that the strange coded stone of Oak Island is also linked with the weird alphabet at Glozel and the Rennes cyphers.
This raises the question of what the core of that Arcadian Treasure really was. Could it have been a mysterious artifact from ancient Egypt that travelled through one treasure house after another until the Templars gained possession of it? Did they, rather than Verrazano, carry it across the Atlantic with the help of Prince Henry Sinclair?
The quest begins with two basic facts and two basic questions. There is a deep shaft on Oak Island which was either man-made, or man-adapted long ago. There are at least two flood tunnels connecting the lower parts of this shaft to the Atlantic. These, too, were either man-made or man-adapted.
The first question is: who created, or modified, the shaft and its flood tunnels? The second question is: why?
As with the mysteries of Rennes-le-Château and Glozel, there are no quick, simple, or certain answers â only a range of greater or lesser possibilities. It is the authors' intention to lay those possibilities and speculations before our readers, together with such relevant evidence as exists, and such arguments and deductions as may reasonably be based on that evidence. It is also the authors' intention to indicate which hypothesis they themselves think is the most probable and to give reasons for their choice.
â Lionel and Patricia Fanthorpe, Cardiff, Wales, U.K., 1994
Oak Island
and its Background
I
f
you spent just one day on each island in Mahone Bay, it would take a year to explore them all. Oak Island is not short of neighbours.
A mile long and slightly less than half that width, it narrows in the centre where the swamp lies. Viewed from the east, the island is reminiscent of the curiously shaped puff of smoke that emerges from Aladdin's Lamp in the cartoons and then turns into a genie. The Oak Island genie (if he is still there!) has remained stubbornly concealed at the bottom of his flooded Money Pit.
The current name, Oak Island, seems to be based on the presence of the red oaks with their characteristic umbrella-shaped domes. At one time they were far more numerous than they are today. A chart drawn by a British cartographer named Des Barres in the last quarter of the eighteenth century calls the island Glouster Isle and names today's Mahone Bay as Mecklenburgh Bay. In spite of Des Barres's nomenclature, however, some legal documents which are older than his chart refer to the island as Oak Island.
The highest points of Oak Island barely rise ten metres above the surface of the Atlantic. These high points are drumlins, miniature hills of very hard clay inherited from the Ice Age. Below them Oak Island stands on limestone. Geologically, there are several significant features which are worth careful consideration: the hard clay, for example, is firm enough to be excavated to a considerable depth without any lateral supports being used; and it is also practically impervious to water seepage. Our friend George Young, a professional surveyor in the district for many years, knew a great deal about the characteristics of the local limestone. In his long and extensive experience he encountered many curious natural holes, caverns, shafts, and connecting passageways in the geological formations surrounding Oak Island. The mysterious Money Pit, with its ancillary system of tunnels and vaults, may actually be an adaptation rather than an entirely artificial structure.
The island's longer dimension runs from west to east, the western end having been linked to the mainland by a causeway since 1965. The Money Pit is close to the eastern, or Atlantic, side. That part of the island, on the seaward side of the central swamp, is bleak, scarred by craters and the frequently disturbed earth of many old excavations. The rest of it supports the usual island grass, trees, and shrubs. There are interesting ruins here and there, together with a small museum where core samples from exploratory drillings and unearthed artifacts are on display.
Halifax, seventy kilometres north of Oak Island, was established as early as 1749. Lunenburg, fifteen kilometres southwest of the island, was settled in 1753.
In October 1759, Charles Lawrence, who was then the governor general of Nova Scotia, included Oak Island in the Shoreham Grant. This grant established the town of Shoreham (which is now Chester) seven kilometres northeast of Oak Island. There is an interesting possibility that this same Lawrence family may have had connections with Rennes-le-Château via the curious tomb at Arques, which was a facsimile of the one in Poussin's famous painting “Bergeres d'Arcadie” until it was deliberately demolished by the new owner in the late 1980s. This facsimile tomb was constructed nearly a century ago on the orders of an American emigrant named Lawrence who settled near Rennes-le-Château. Records indicate that his wife and mother were buried in it, and when we ourselves photographed the interior in the 1970s, there were certainly two coffins at the bottom.
Oak Island then became the possession of four families: the Monros, the Lynches, the Seacombes, and the Youngs (possibly George's ancestors), although it was not inhabited when Daniel McGinnis landed there thirty-six years later in 1795. It is no longer possible to state with any degree of certainty how those four farming families used the island, but, in all probability, they would have pastured some of their livestock there. (Island pasturage had the advantage of not needing to be fenced, and, in the normal course of events, the small islands in Mahone Bay would have been free of predators.) In the eighteenth century, when the oaks were still plentiful, the island might also have been a useful source of timber.
The earliest known survey would seem to have been the work of Charles Morris, who was then working as an official surveyor in the area. His charts divided the island into thirty-two parcels of land of about four acres each: the first twenty ranged along the northern edge; the last twelve were along the southern shore.
Early records show that Timothy Lynch purchased land parcel number nineteen from Edward Smith in 1768. (Smith's Cove may have got its name from this same Edward Smith.) Lynch's Plot Nineteen was well towards the eastern tip of Oak Island, adjacent to Plot Eighteen, which held the mysterious “Money Pit.” The John Smith (apparently no relation to Edward) who was one of the three original discoverers of the Money Pit in 1795 paid £7.10 for Plot Eighteen on June 26 of that year.
Presumably, he did this immediately after the three lads had begun their pioneering dig. The former owner is listed as a Casper Wollenhaupt of Lunenburg. Despite Oak Island's then-sinister local reputation as a haunt of murderous pirates (and worse), young John Smith took his wife and family to live there and thrived for another sixty years.
Curious rumours of dark supernatural forces on Oak Island were reinforced by a legend that during the mid-eighteenth century the citizens of Chester had seen strange lights burning persistently on Oak Island by night. It was also darkly hinted that two Chester fishermen who had rowed across to investigate had never been seen again.
Oak Island does seem to possess an atmosphere of subtle mystery and intrigue. Looking out across Smith's Cove, where the fan-shaped entrance to one of the sinister flood tunnels still lies somewhere beneath the artificial beach, the researcher ponders over who might have constructed this whole weird system, and why. Driving by moonlight across the 200-metre causeway separating Oak Island from Crandall's Point on the mainland is also an evocative experience.
But “atmospheres” are notoriously deceptive and subjective. Whether the feeling of enigmatic mystery in the air of Oak Island has any objective reality, or whether the visitor's knowledge of the island's strange history generates the atmosphere is an argument which is not easy to resolve.
What other background information might contribute usefully and relevantly to an analysis of the mystery of the Oak Island Money Pit? How much attention needs to be paid to the climate, the geography, and geology of Nova Scotia itself to gain a fair background for studying the Money Pit?
Just as Rome and Constantinople were traditionally built on seven hills, so Nova Scotia is built on five; five upland areas and five lowlands. The raised areas are based on hard, crystalline rocks and consist of: the Southern Upland, which doesn't rise above 600 feet; the narrow, flat-topped North Mountain, which reaches about the same height and runs alongside the Bay of Fundy; the Cobequid Mountains, which are nearly 300 feet higher and cross Cumberland County; the Pictou and Antigonish Highlands; and, fifth, the Cape Breton Highlands which reach approximately 1,200 feet. The five lowland areas have soft, sedimentary rocks beneath them.
The mineral wealth of Nova Scotia includes lead, zinc, silver, and copper in the Bathurst area of New Brunswick, and coal in the northern part of Cape Breton Island.
Nova Scotia must also be considered as a mass of lakes, streams, and unusually short rivers â while the subterranean water courses may be larger and more extensive than is generally realized. The curiously named Lake Bras d'Or (Golden Arm Lake) on Cape Breton Island, for example, is saline.
The Nova Scotian climate is a strange mixture in that it is both continental and oceanic. The southwest coast in particular trends to be mild and wet, and its average temperature is roughly five degrees warmer than the average interior temperature (approximately 45 degrees Fahrenheit and 40 degrees Fahrenheit respectively). The upland temperatures can range from 95 degrees Fahrenheit in summer down to 35 degrees of frost in winter â a remarkably wide range of 125 degrees Fahrenheit. There's an annual rainfall of between 40 and 55 inches, and fog can hide the southern coasts for as many as ninety days a year. There are upwards of 50,000 acres of tidal marshland in Nova Scotia, and it's particularly interesting to note that it was the Acadians who began creating dikes around the turn of the seventeenth century.
With its fogs and sinister tidal marshes, the Nova Scotian coast was a haven for pirates, and Mahone Bay itself was notorious for its pirates, privateers and buccaneers right up until the early years of the eighteenth century. The scores of scattered islands there provided ideal screening and camouflage from both sea and land. Expert anthropological opinion suggests that the earliest inhabitants were the Amerindian tribes who were contemporaries of the old Chaldean civilizations, and pre-dated Stonehenge, the pyramids and the Sphinx. But these palaeolithic tribes â or even their mesolithic or neolithic descendants â were not characterized by their mining or constructional activities. Radio carbon dating of what are thought to be some of the âoriginal' Money Pit timbers produces a date not earlier than 1500 â although even the best radio carbon techniques can leave a few years' margin of doubt. There may very well be much older remains on the site.
About 700 years after the dawn of the Christian era, the Mi'kmaq Indians seem to have migrated northwards into Nova Scotia from what is now the U.S.A. While William the Conqueror was getting a firm grip on England, several thousand Mi'kmaqs were spreading themselves around the coastal area adjacent to Oak Island and its hinterland.
But the Mi'kmaqs were a travelling people â like the Bedouins of Arabia and North Africa. They carried their homes and their few goods with them and they tended to travel light. There is no known motive â religious or cultural â which might have induced them to construct the elaborate system below Oak Island.
Although the theory is still controversial with some of the more cautious and conservative historians, it now seems virtually certain that Vikings â and some formidable wild Welsh sea warriors â reached North America and Canada centuries before Columbus. Was the mysterious “Wineland” or “Vinland” which Lief Eiriksson reputedly reached one thousand years ago really Nova Scotia? Thorfinn Karlsefni took three shiploads of adventurous pioneers to an equally mysterious “Markland” a few years after Lief Eiriksson's epic voyage. Was “Markland” also Nova Scotia?
Men who could build ships sturdy enough to be rowed across the Atlantic would have been more than capable of excavating or adapting the subterranean system on Oak Island â but what might their motives have been? Norsemen, of course, were not averse to burying dead kings and chieftains complete with their ships and their treasures. Visigoths diverted rivers to bury their great leaders, then let the waters flood back to protect the tomb and the king's wealth.
If the radio carbon dating is five hundred years adrift, there's a remote possibility that some great Viking warlord, or Celtic sea-rover, lies below Oak Island.
John Cabot raised the English flag on Cape Breton Island before 1500, thus laying claim to what he fondly believed to be part of Eastern Asia in the name of Henry Tudor! Shortly after the turn of the century, Basques and Bretons came in search of fish.
The French baron de Lery got to Nova Scotia before 1520, while the Italian explorer Giovanni de Verrazano made an unsuccessful attempt to found a settlement there during the third decade of the sixteenth century. Both of these visits are of very considerable significance: firstly, because any Oak Island activity undertaken by their people would harmonize with the radio carbon dating, and, secondly, because some researchers believe that Verrazano named the area “Arcadia.”
To justify the importance of the word “Arcadia,” we need to look briefly at another mystery. Central to the riddle of the Priest's Treasure at Rennes-le-Château in Southwestern France is the curious Latin phrase “Et in Arcadia ego.” It recurs in old paintings and on the Shugborough Hall Shepherds' Monument, in Staffordshire in England. It also appears in the controversial coded parchments which Bérenger Saunière is said to have found inside an ancient Visigothic altar pillar in his mountain top church of St. Mary Magdalene. The classical interpretation of the cryptic Latin phrase is usually taken to be: “Even in Arcadia (the idyllic, innocent, and joyful land) I, Death, am present.”
Alternatively, the message, carved on the side of a table tomb in Poussin's paintings, may be taken to mean that the dead man inside the tomb is saying: “Don't grieve for me: I too, am in Arcadia.” Nicholas Poussin had a great love of Rome, and worked there for many years. Significantly, his own tomb bears a carved representation of the Shepherds of Arcadia canvas bearing the same puzzling “Arcadia” inscription.
Art historians trace the theme back from Poussin to the Italian painter Guercino whose work on the same motif depicts a skull beside which the words “Et in Arcadia ego” appear. What if the French adventurer, Baron de Lery, or Verrazano, the Italian colonial pioneer, had a very good reason indeed for naming their respective abortive settlements “Arcadia”?