Knights of the Golden Circle Read online

  Donna-Lou was working her way through items and boxes, heading to the far end of the attic, toward the back of the old house.

  "What exactly are we doing up here?" Rory asked as he took a few tentative steps on the old boards, heading in her general direction.

  Donna-Lou talked over her shoulder as she continued walking along the old boards, looking for something, "My grandfather had an old trunk that fascinated me when I was just a kid. I don't remember ever seeing inside it. But I do remember that was where he kept that oilskin I mentioned. My grandmother had some of the men put the trunk into the attic after his wake here in the house. I can remember them struggling to get it upstairs on and then into the attic."

  "They held a wake here in the house! Really?"

  Donna-Lou nodded as she moved a couple of boxes, "That's what they did in those days. I don't remember much about it, except for the crying and wailing. Stayed with me for a long time as a kid. Can you move those boxes over there, out of the way?"

  Rory stepped forward and slid four boxes over to the right and away from where Donna-Lou was working, "Why are you looking for the trunk?"

  "I just thought it might be helpful to see what an old oilskin looks like. Move this over there too, please," Donna-Lou said as she slid a larger box towards Rory.

  Rory slid that box over with the others.

  "Maybe it helps, maybe it doesn't," Donna-Lou said. She slid another large cardboard box to the side with a grunt, "And here it is."

  Rory slid the larger box further to the side and out of the way.

  Donna-Lou was now bent over, hands on her knees, in front of another large box.

  Rory couldn't see exactly what it was but he caught a glimpse of a large, fancy-looking steamer trunk with a heavy, brown patina.

  "Can you pull this out for me?" Donna-Lou asked, "I'd like to get it more into the light."

  "Sure." Rory stepped forward. As Donna-Lou moved to the side, he now had a better look at the trunk. It was four foot long, two feet across and nearly two feet high. The color was a deep, rich caramel with a gilded, gold framework, crisscrossed by half-inch, gold metal straps, gold latches, and gold carry handles on each end. Rory ran his hand over the surface between the metal bands, "Amazing. The material is actually leather. This thing looks really old."

  "It is," Donna-Lou confirmed.

  Rory grabbed one of the gold handles on the end. He grunted as he barely slid it a foot, "Wow. Is it ever heavy." He tapped the top, "There is thick wood underneath the leather. Someone really wanted to protect the contents."

  "As I said, those men struggled and cursed all the way up. My grandmother had us kids leave so we wouldn't learn bad language. Little did she know we already knew the choice swear words," Donna-Lou said with a laugh. She took a step forward and grabbed the other gold handle, "I'll do my best...."

  Rory grabbed the handle again and waited for Donna-Lou to get herself set. She gave him a nod and working together, they slowly slid each side back and forth until the old steamer trunk was free of the surrounding items.

  Donna-Lou knelt in front of the trunk, breathing heavy from the exertion. She pulled down on the lock, "Crap, locked. And I don't remember where the key is." She waved at the items around them, "Find me something to hit it with."

  "Are you sure?" Rory asked. "That trunk is probably worth a fortune as an antique."

  Shrugging, Donna-Lou said, "Like I said, I don't know where the key is

  Rory bent over, looked at the keyhole in the lock, estimating the size with a fingertip. He remembered seeing something he could possibly use. He turned on his heels and went over to an area of the attic floor where he saw some kitchen items and one other thing he felt he could use. A minute later he found the boxes marked 'kitchen' and a heavy cast piece for hanging pots on top of one. And wrapped around one of the prongs he found the small roll of black, stovepipe wire. Grabbing it, he uncoiled one end as he went back to the steamer trunk, "This should work."

  Donna-Lou slid over on her knees and watched Rory kneel and insert one end of the wire in the keyhole.

  Rory worked the wire inside the keyhole, feeling for the locking mechanism and was rewarded with a dull click. Pulling the wire out he slid over to allow Donna-Lou to move back. "You can do the honors," Rory said. He reached over and put the coil of wire on one of the cardboard boxes.

  Donna-Lou slid over on her knees and undid the two gold latches first. Then she put her hand on the lock and looked at Rory, a twinkle in her eye, "Do you think we'll find KGC treasure?"

  Rory pretended to grumble, "We'll never know if you don't open it."

  Donna-Lou smirked, then turned her attention back to the trunk. She slowly opened the lid, leaned over a bit...and Donna-Lou Haney gasped.

  Chapter 11

  RORY COULD FEEL HIS OWN AMAZEMENT as he looked at the contents inside the old steamer trunk. Right on top of everything was a gray-colored, Confederate cavalry stetson, also known as a stag hat, with a gold acorn cord. The gold insignia on the hat consisted of the figure '8th' surrounded by a gold laurel.

  Donna-Lou reached in and gently picked it up, turning it in her hands.

  "Did that belong to someone in your family?" Rory asked.

  "I have no idea," Donna-Lou answered in a voice filled with wonder.

  Rory glanced inside the trunk at the gray material that had been underneath the stag hat, "Is that a jacket?"

  Donna-Lou's brow furrowed as she looked at the material, "I don't know...."

  Rory reached in and pulled the material out. Holding it up, he let the gray material unfold.

  "It is a jacket," Donna-Lou exclaimed. "That's a Cavalry Officer's shell jacket! I never knew that was in there all this time."

  Rory turned the coat this way and that, examining it in detail, "It's still in great shape." There were four rows of 1/8 inch gold, flat braid on the sleeve with gold edges on the cuffs, gold piping on the collar and two rows of gold buttons running down the front of the jacket. The letters CR were embroidered in gold stitching on the shoulders.

  "That insignia on the collar says that jacket is part of a Major-General's uniform," Donna-Lou explained. "I know because the boys used to do a lot of their talks in school on the Confederacy."

  "Do you think these are original?" asked Rory.

  Donna-Lou shrugged, "Maybe. But I'm not sure why we would have that."

  "Maybe your family bought it an auction," Rory suggested. "You'll have to get a museum expert to take a look at it for you. It could be worth a lot of money."

  Donna-Lou nodded as she looked back into the trunk, "Oh my." She set the cavalry stag hat on her lap and reached inside. She carefully pulled out a folded Confederate flag. Unfolding it, she ran her hands over the old cloth, "It looks like it's been repaired at some point. There's a seam running diagonally across the entire flag. And one of the stars has some extra stitching around it."

  "The flag looks old. Maybe there was a hole in the star and they just added another one in," Rory said

  "No, I don't think so," Donna-Lou said. She set the Confederate flag down her lap and reached into the trunk again. She pulled out a long cylinder, about 4 feet long and 2 inches around. "It looks like it's made from rabbit fur and coated with a wax-like substance." She pulled a waxy plug out of one end and held the tube up to her eye, "It's empty."

  "Anything else in the trunk?" Rory asked.

  "Yeah, two mahogany boxes," Donna-Lou said. She set the cylinder behind her. Then she reached inside the trunk, putting her hands around one of the boxes.

  "Wonder what's in them?" Rory reached into the trunk when he saw Donna-Lou struggling and helped her lift a mahogany box out. They set it on the floor.

  Donna-Lou leaned over and undid the catch, opening the mahogany box. She peered inside, "What...?"

  Rory leaned over and helped her pull out a brass object with a wonderful mellow patina. The brass object consisted of a triangular attachment on top, an eleven-inch scope below that and a six-inch circu
lar gauge with a needle under the glass. "It's a surveyor's transit," he said in surprise. He felt the heft, "It weighs about twenty pounds."

  "It looks really old," Donna-Lou said. "I don't remember anyone in my family doing any surveying." She reached in and pulled out the other mahogany box, opening it, "Oh my...."

  Rory set the surveyor's transit carefully down on the floor and looked into the box. It held a two-tone gold handgun that had an intricate series of Confederate symbols etched across it. He reached into the box, slipping his fingers carefully around the weapon and lifting it out. His eyes sparkled as he held it up, "This is a LeMat revolver. I've only seen pictures of them. It was invented by Jean Alexandre LeMat of New Orleans. It was used by the Confederate army during the civil war, including some members of the Confederate Cavalry." Rory ran his fingers over the weapon, "See those Confederate symbols?"

  Donna-Lou leaned a bit, looking at the old weapon in Rory's hands, "Yeah." She turned her head this way and that, "It looks like the gun has two barrels."

  "It does," Rory confirmed as he looked weapon over. "The top one is a .42 caliber, cap & ball black powder barrel. The secondary one is a smooth-bore barrel, capable of firing 16 gauge buckshot." He looked into the box, "You've got everything here. The powder horn, balls...."

  Donna-Lou whispered as she shook her head, "I didn't know it was up here. I never wanted guns around once Corry was born."

  Rory set the gun carefully back in the case and closed it, setting it on the floor, "Anything else in the trunk?"

  Donna-Lou looked into the trunk, then sat back on her heels, shaking her head, the disappointment evident in her voice, "No. There's no oilskin in here at all. That's what I really expected to see. I'm positive my grandfather kept it in there."

  "No problem." Rory reached behind her and picked up the long cylinder, looking inside it again, "It might have been rolled inside this thing at one time. And someone's taken it."

  Donna-Lou nodded, thinking, "It must've been taken a long time ago. I haven't been up here for years–"

  "Hello?"

  It was Chet, yelling from below.

  Donna-Lou turned, a smile lighting up her face. She put her hands to her mouth and yelled, "Yeah, we're up here, Chet. C'mon up."

  Rory noticed her smile as he heard Chet climbing the ladder. He looked back and a moment later, Chet's head and shoulders popped through the opening from below, "What are you doing up here?"

  "Just looking through some old stuff," Rory explained. "Did you get a hold of that person you were calling about those photocopies? You were gone quite a while."

  "Yeah. Actually, I was calling Nora-Jane Jackson." Chet climbed into the attic, hitched up his pants and walked across the old boards, "She has contacts in the historical archives down in Atlanta. A lot of our old local history books were moved down there some years ago and they might know where those photocopies were taken from. As luck would have it, she was actually back in town because of Emma. She was just over by the library and she drove over and I gave her the copies–"

  "Are you sure that was a good idea?" Rory asked gently.

  "Oh, sure. They'll be safe. She's headed over to her momma's old place and then down to Atlanta."

  "No, I mean–"

  "Oh, wow," Chet exclaimed when his eyes saw the old Civil War items. He hustled across the old boards, hitching his pants up again, "I never knew you had this stuff, Donna-Lou."

  "Really didn't know I had it either Chet," Donna-Lou admitted. "This was an old trunk of my grandfather that was placed up here when I was a kid. Never looked at it before today."

  Chet stopped beside Rory and he swallowed, "That's...that's a Cavalry officer's stag hat...."

  Donna-Lou passed to Rory, who handed it up to Chet, "Donna-Lou is not sure who it originally belonged to."

  Chet looked at the hat with big eyes. His hands passed over the gold insignia almost in awe.

  "What is it, Chet?" Donna-Lou asked. "Do you recognize it?"

  Chet didn't answer. He handed the stag hat back to Rory and took a step.

  Rory and Donna-Lou each shifted to allow Chet some room.

  Kneeling by the gun case, Chet opened it slowly, placing his hand on the LeMat revolver inside. His fingers traced the gold etchings, his eyes lit up with wonder and delight. Then he quickly held his hand out for the shell jacket.

  Rory passed him the gray jacket.

  Chet took the shell jacket by the shoulders, stood up and held it out in front of himself. He had a goofy grin on his face and shook his head.

  Rory exchanged a glance with Donna-Lou and looked up, "You do recognize these things, don't you Chet?"

  Chet just nodded.

  "Boys and their toys...or uniforms," Donna-Lou said with mirth in her voice.

  "No, it's more than that," Chet said, almost reverentially. "The gold insignia on the stag hat identifies this as the uniform belonging to the 8th Cavalry of South Carolina. The same thing is etched into the revolver. And see that CR designation on the shoulders of this shell jacket? That stands for Calhoun's Raiders."

  Donna-Lou shook her head, "Calhoun's Raiders? I don't remember ever hearing that name. And you would think we would have heard of it around here, considering your family and all."

  Chet nodded as he kept staring at the uniform, "It wasn't supposed to exist. At least, that's what all the history experts say. My family and a lot of old timers around here say it did. But there were never any records found in the archives that proved them right. But this does. It's exactly as they described it."

  "Any idea why my family would have it?" Donna-Lou asked.

  Chet shook his head no. Then he closed his eyes as he was thinking back, "If I remember from what I was told as a kid...the leader was a Major-General Jeb Pinter–"

  "Pinter?" Donna-Lou exclaimed. "Are you sure?"

  Chet opened his eyes and nodded. Both he and Rory looked in surprise at Donna-Lou's outburst.

  "Pinter was my grandmother's maiden name," she said in astonishment.

  Chet shook his head in amazement, "My grand-daddy and my uncles said Calhoun's Raiders were the main military arm of the Knights of the Golden Circle."

  "You're kidding me?" Donna-Lou said. "My family was a part of the KGC?"

  "Apparently," Chet said. "And what's more...they were responsible for taking the treasure from Atlanta up into South Carolina."

  Donna-Lou looked down at the trunk and shook her head, "I never knew...."

  "What made you look through this stuff?" Chet asked after a moment of silence.

  "I was looking for an old oilskin my grandfather had. It should have been in here too," Donna-Lou said.

  Chet's back straightened, "What oilskin?" He looked from Donna-Lou to Rory and back.

  Rory took the material from his pocket and handed it up to Chet.

  Chet gave Rory the shell jacket and took the fragment of material from him.

  Glancing at Donna-Lou, Rory raised his eyebrows in question

  Donna-Lou gave him a shrug in return.

  Chet's voice was a whisper as he glanced to the trunk, "You found this in there?"

  "No," Rory said. "I found it under a stick-pin on the whiteboard. It looks like Corry had an oilskin draped across those pictures. Someone ripped it off, leaving behind that small fragment in the upper corner of the whiteboard."

  "We think it was in this tube," Donna-Lou said. "Why? What does it mean?"

  Chet took a deep breath and let it out, licking his lips before he spoke in a low voice, "Slickers or old raincoats worn by folks back in the old days...including the ones worn by the Knights of the Golden Circle...were made from this material."

  Donna-Lou nodded, "That's what I told Rory."

  "Why are their raincoats so important?" Rory asked.

  Chet looked at the remnant again and took another breath before he answered, "When KGC operatives buried their money caches, they would inscribe signs on rocks and trees as directions back to where they left those caches. To start
with, the signs were made from a template. They had a basic set of signs but each time they hid something, the signs they put on the trees or rocks or whatever would have subtle differences. In the sign in the back yard, the rider's head was looking back, so you go in the direction it's looking to find another sign. A similar sign might point in a different direction. As I said before, where two signs intersected you would find another sign or maybe a clue of some type. The larger caches would have an extensive set of signs that could lead you over miles and miles and miles of terrain. To find the hiding spot again, you would go to each sign in the area and draw them on another slicker, one by one in the pattern according to where you find each one. The pattern on the semi-transparent slicker would then be an overall template to find the treasure spot."

  "So you think that's what my grandfather had in here? That kind of slicker with a pattern of signs?" Donna-Lou asked.

  "Maybe. Or a map and the original set of signs and how they were laid out," Chet said. "That would be neat."

  Donna-Lou pointed to the surveyor's transit, "Maybe they used that thing to set everything up."

  Chet looked down at it and shrugged, "Could be. I'm not really sure how they set it up. But that would make sense."

  "So whoever has that oilskin can find the treasure?" Rory asked.

  Chet shook his head no, "You don't really need the oilskin. You could just re-create the original map by sketching the signs on paper, just like Corry did. Like we all did as young'uns."

  "But if it was that easy, why has it been so hard to find these treasure caches?" Rory asked.