Confederate Gold and Silver (68 page)

“Yes, three more things as well. Please make sure the Public Works Department has an air compressor and an air chisel, or a chipping hammer, and at least twenty-five large clean tote bins ready for us when we get there. Oh, one last thing. Yesterday when we walked by City Hall, I noticed a Loomis armored car parked out in front of the building. Does the city use Loomis as a courier for your bank transactions?”

Edwin Henion, who had walked back towards the conference table, answered for the mayor, first by nodding his head. “I’m not really sure why you are asking, Mr. Waring, but to answer your question, yes we do. May I ask why you asked that question?”

“Because I expect in a very short time we are going to find a few million dollars in gold and silver. I’d like you to make arrangements with Loomis to have them loan us one of their armored cars. We will need to have the armored car meet us at the Public Works garage, say around four this afternoon. It’s going to take us a couple of hours to get to the gold and silver, so no sense having them stand around in the heat waiting for us to get to it. Tell them we should be ready around then, but we will need them for a few hours after that as well. We will have one more stop to make after we get done at the garage.”

Edwin Henion looked over at Mayor Davis. He again nodded his approval to Paul’s request.

Listening to Paul tell the mayor what he needed him to do caused Steve, as hard as he tried not to, to laugh out loud. “I cannot wait to see what he is going to ask for next! A very remarkable and brazen young man he is, very remarkable!” He had not directed his comments to anyone in particular, but they drew a chuckle from Judge Morgan. Soon even Mayor Davis had to laugh at Steve’s comment.

Still smiling at Steve’s comment, Judge Morgan walked over to a nearby side table where a large pot of coffee had been brought into the room. After pouring himself a cup of coffee, he picked up the phone sitting at the far end of the table. Phoning his law clerk, Judge Morgan directed her to cancel his schedule for the rest of the day. Picking up his cup of coffee, he turned to look at the others who were still seated around the table. “This is going to be something I want to see. I’m not going to miss out on this opportunity.”

As Paul looked over at Mayor Davis, he could see the look of concern in his face. “Mr. Mayor, I know this is confusing. While we have not given you all of the details, we soon will, I promise. As I suggested, take the others to lunch and we will meet you at the Public Works garage at three this afternoon. We promise you won’t regret this.” Gathering up the photos and the original agreement the mayor had signed; Paul again directed a comment to Mayor Davis. “Mr. Mayor, you can keep those two gold coins for now. Consider them part of the down payment on the cost of the anniversary celebration.”

Soon they exited the elevator and walked out into the lobby of city hall. As they did, Chick stopped them so they could talk for a moment. “Well, that went too smoothly. I expected some resistance, perhaps reluctance might be a better word, to cooperate with us, but I’m glad it went well. One thing though, isn’t it strange that neither the mayor, nor his aide, asked us where the money had been hidden in the city. I would have thought that would have been one of the first questions they might have asked.”

“So did I,” Paul replied, “but they likely realized we weren’t going to tell them, so they didn’t ask. Who knows, but we got what we needed so let’s get moving. I’ll see you two later at the garage. Good luck!”

The two police officers assigned to Chick and Jayne for the afternoon were already there waiting for them in the lobby of city hall. As the four of them left, Paul stayed in the lobby to call Bobby Ray on his cell phone.

“What’s up, bro?”

“Bobby Ray, we’ve got no time for games right now. I need you and Pete to meet me at the city’s Public Work garage by two. Tell Pete I want his cameras set up and ready to film the cannons when they are being delivered to the garage. And do me a favor, Brian and Sean are driving down here to see this thing unfold. Call them on Brian’s cell and give them directions to the PW garage. Try to get them there by two.” In his excitement, Paul realized that he had unintentionally referred to the garage by the abbreviation used by most cops when referring to Public Works departments. The abbreviation made radio transmissions shorter and easier to understand.

“We’ll be ready. See you then, amigo!”

Over the next two hours, while Paul went to meet with the Public Works superintendent, Jayne and Chick, with help from the two Charleston police officers, guided the wreckers around the city. Their assignment for the afternoon was to pick up the cannons from where they had sat in the city’s various parks. One had sat in a neglected cemetery for many years. After being loaded onto the flatbed wreckers, the cannons would be brought to the Public Works garage.

As they drove around the city in the lead police car, Jayne rode in the back seat, while Chick sat in the front seat with Officer Lonnie Mo. “Officer Mo, this is the first time Jayne has ridden in the back seat of a police car. Well, the first time not wearing handcuffs that is.”

“Jackass!”

Jayne’s quick response caused Chick and Officer Mo to laugh. Jayne had led a quiet life, almost a boring one, surrounded by mostly her books and her research. A member of a religious order stood a far better chance of being placed in the back of a police car under arrest than she had. Chick soon turned around to look at her and saw she was now smiling at the comment he had made.

Just before three, they were all back at the Public Works garage. All of the cannons were lined up in one section of the twenty bay garage. Each of the cannons now rested on large bundles of heavy wooden railroad ties. The ties were being used to protect the garage’s concrete floor from damage and to hold the weight of the heavy cannons. The cannons sat roughly four feet off the floor of the large garage. Cannons number eight, nine, and ‘Old Number Six’ were the only ones not there. Paul and the others had decided they would deal with them at the end of the day as they knew those three cannons were not going anywhere between now and then. Before the others had arrived at the garage, Paul told Chick and Jayne not to mention anything about the one cannon they had not located. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them, plus it will buy us another few days to try and find it before someone else does.”

Pete had just finished videotaping the cannons as they sat in the large garage, having already photographed them, when the mayor and the others arrived with sirens wailing. They had been personally escorted there by Charleston’s police chief and Officer Mo. Seeing the circus which was about to unfold in front of him, just like it had in the marina’s parking lot the day he had told Bobby Ray about finding the remains of Captain Francis, Paul had his friend run interference with the Charleston police officers who were now present. He hoped the bond between fellow police officers would make them understand that all was on the level. In short order, Bobby Ray soon had the Charleston officers off to the side of the garage telling them his jokes and listening to theirs.

Watching as the mayor climbed out of his city vehicle, Paul saw he had brought someone with him who he did not recognize. Now he walked to intercept them before they could get inside of the garage. Mayor Davis quickly saw the concerned look on his face.

“Paul, this is Mr. James Randall, he is the unofficial historian for the city of Charleston. The unofficial part means we work him hard and he does not get paid for his services. I want him to witness part of our city’s past coming to life here today. I hope you do not mind?”

“Nope, no problem at all, just no photos please.” Paul then introduced his two sons to Mayor Davis. “They are going to be our laborers for the day. I get to work them hard as well, except I have to pay them for their services, usually by way of an expensive dinner bill.”

Followed by the others, Mayor Davis walked into the Public Works garage half expecting to see gold and silver piled up in front of him. What he saw was only a semi-circle of old black cannons sitting in front of him. In the semi-circle were a combination of Napoleon cannons of several different types, including an 1841 Seacoast gun, one 1841 twelve pounder and one 1857 twelve pound smoothbore cannon. With them sat two Griffin guns, made by the Phoenix Iron Company, in Phoenixville, Pennsylvania. Also present was one Parrott rifle, the Banded Brooks Rifle, and one Dahlgren cannon.

“What’s all this? What are these cannons doing here and where’s the gold and silver you told us all about?” Nearby the mayor saw twenty-five blue tote bins. They were neatly stacked by the cannons, but were also void of any riches.

“Mayor, when I found the soldier’s remains I also found clues he had left behind in a letter regarding the Confederate gold and silver. It took luck and determination to figure out what the clues exactly meant, but we have. The clues he left regarding the money hidden here in Charleston were the hardest ones to figure out.”

Mayor Davis still did not understand what the connection was to the cannons. “Why the cannons?”

As Paul answered the mayor’s question and as he had done earlier without interrupting to ask any questions, Judge Morgan listened in quietly. “For around one hundred and fifty years these cannons have been here in Charleston. Some of them likely fired upon Fort Sumter to start the Civil War. In fact, some of them may have even defended Charleston when the Union navy later sailed into your harbor. Certainly all of them have allowed scores of young children to climb on them so their parents could take their pictures. Since the summer of 1863, based on one of the letters I found, they have held the balance of the missing Confederate gold and silver. Captain Judiah Francis, the Confederate soldier whose remains I found, for some unknown reason chose these cannons to hide the gold and silver in. As I told you earlier today, he was the soldier charged by both President Jefferson Davis and General Lee to move the money south out of Richmond. The money was being moved so it could be kept out of the hands of the advancing Union army. Somehow Francis had made his way to Charleston and for some yet to be determined reason he decided to hide the money in these cannons. Who knows why he came here? Perhaps it was to rest, but more than likely it was to move the treasury further south by boat or perhaps by the railroad, but he never did. Again, he chose to hide the gold and silver here in these cannons for reasons we may never know. It’s been here ever since, just waiting to be found. There are other details to tell you, but we can save them for another time. Let’s go see what Captain Francis cleverly hid so many years ago.”

Almost dumbfounded by what he had just been told, Mayor Davis first sought a clarification from Paul. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling us that these here cannons, the ones sitting right here under our noses while on display in our own parks, have held part of the missing Confederate treasury for all of these years? The money has been right here the whole time?”

“Yes, sir. That’s what the clues are telling us.”

“But what if the cannons he had hid the gold and silver in were later assigned to units in the field? The money would certainly have been found then.”

“Our thinking is these cannons were likely damaged or they had been taken out of service for some other reason. Francis would certainly not have risked putting the gold and silver in new or serviceable cannons as the money would easily have been found. Not him, he would not have done that.”

“Paul, it sounds like you have gotten to know this Captain Francis fellow pretty well.”

“Mr. Mayor, I think I have actually gotten to know him very well over the past few weeks since I found him. I believe he was quite the person. He had to have been if President Davis and General Lee trusted him enough to move a significant part of the Confederate treasury for them. He had to have been a very special person.” Mayor Davis and Judge Morgan both nodded their heads in agreement to Paul’s comments about Captain Francis.

“Mr. Waring, I’m not a Missouri boy, I’m a born and proudly raised South Carolinian, but you are going to have to show me you are right. I hope you are, but right now I’m pretty skeptical of the story you are trying to sell me on. It sounds more like a storyline for a movie than it does anything else.”

“Mr. Mayor, I can understand your reluctance to believe me, really I can.”

Paul walked with Mayor Davis, Judge Morgan, James Randall, Edwin Henion, and Chief Walter Barber, Charleston’s police chief, over to where the cannons were lined up. As he did, Pete filmed what was transpiring in the garage. Chick and Jayne followed the group to where the cannons sat. As the group stood talking by the cannons, Jayne also documented what was taking place by taking photos of them with her Canon camera.

“Gentlemen, look at the end of this cannon, specifically at the mortar and tell me what you see.”

It was James Randall who answered for the group now assembled by the barrel end of cannon number seven. “I can see someone has inscribed C.S.A. and the number seven into the mortar. What’s that mean?” Randall had even pointed out the periods which followed each of the three letters.

“Tell you what, let’s find out. But remember what was inscribed into the mortar.” Paul then gave the Public Works staff the signal to drill out the century old plus mortar from within the barrel of cannon number seven.

As Pete’s video cameras had captured Paul standing near the cannon inscribed with the number seven, and as the cameras had captured him explaining what the inscription meant at the end of the barrel to Mayor Davis and the others, they now continued to capture what was unfolding in the large garage. As the cameras caught the Public Works staff preparing to drill out the mortar from within the cannon barrel, they also caught the anxious facial expressions of all who were present. The cameras caught everything, even the tension and hopes which filled the large garage.

The portable two-tone colored
Sullair
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air compressor had sat quiet outside one of the large garage bay doors. It had been towed into place by one of the Public Works department’s Chevy pickup trucks. As quietly as it had sat there, it quickly became loud and noisy as the compressor’s diesel engine fired up after Stephen ‘Tiny’ Cochran, the Public Works superintendent, had signaled the department’s Lead Mechanic, Gary Montano, to start it up. Montano quickly had the air compressor fully charged and ready to go to work.