Tod Aberdeen was not a wealthy man, but he was happy. He lived on an old, small farm with his wife. The farm belonged to her brother, who was a successful Real Estate magnate, and he allowed them to live in the old house and tend the farm. He charged no rent, just asked the taxes and maintenance be kept up.

That was until recently when Jen’s brother informed them of his intent to sell the farm. He was aware that meant they would need to find another home, but he apparently didn’t understand their financial situation. Tod was receiving a meager Social Security check every month, and Jen had a small pension from the teachers union. Selling roadside produce had become his lot in life, and he enjoyed it for the most part. But it also helped put food on the table, and it gave him something to do that would give him some sense of worth. He had other past-times, such as his stamp collection and model trains, but they didn’t do much to ease the burdens.

Jen worked retail jobs when she could get them, but seldom were they full-time, and often were seasonal requiring unemployment benefits every year.

Tod was out for his afternoon walk. He enjoyed these walks as they helped him to keep a clear mind, and to reminisce about times gone by. Better times when he was young and full of strength and could always find ways to make a good buck. Now, things were getting tougher as age began to conspire against him, and the looming possibility of being evicted from his home was causing him great concern. These walks were the balm he needed to keep a positive outlook and forget his troubles for a while.

The day was pleasant, the sky was blue, and there was a subtle, early-May breeze keeping him cool and comfortable. As was usually his habit, he decided to cross the abandoned property down at the end of Grove avenue. He always found it peaceful and enjoyed the quiet solitude it afforded before heading back home. And yes, he would need to return to that confounded tractor that always seemed to breakdown at the beginning of the season.

As he walked along, he began to notice something flitting about in the middle of the field. He figured it was just some litter and didn’t pay it too much mind. As he drew closer, however, it became clear that this was a flag of some kind. Dark blue in color, with a single gold star in the center of it.

He wondered what it could be. Perhaps, the remnants of some game of soldier left behind by the local kids? Or maybe a surveyor’s mark? But, that was probably not likely because this property had been rumored to be in dispute for years by the locals. No, he could not reasonably conclude what this flag could mean.

Tod continued walking towards the far end of the field, contemplating the rest of his day; spending time with his wife, and fixing that darned tractor. He stopped at the edge of the property, took in a long deep breath of sweet, sea-scented air, and stood for a few minutes just relaxing and taking in the afternoon.

Finally, he turned about and began to head back across the field. What would Jenny be cooking up for diner?, he wondered. He was getting hungry and looked forward to a home-cooked meal.

Once again, he saw the flag coming into view. Again, he pondered what it might represent. It certainly was a curious thing out here in the middle of an abandoned field.

As he drew closer and closer, he became very curious about it. He thought he might investigate it, and maybe dig a little to see if he could find out what was under it. It surely must have some purpose. Who would put a flag in the ground for no reason? Although he doubted there would be anything of value beneath it, the mystery began to stoke his curiosity more and more as he approached.

Tod stopped before the flag and gazed down upon it. He looked around to see if anyone was curious about him foolishly standing there with a bewildered look on his face. He scratched his beard and wondered all the more. He heard the gulls in the distance, apparently laughing at this fool staring down at the ground. He looked around again wiping his brow with his kerchief. Again, he began to gaze at this enigma.

Finally, he could not bear to deny the impulse any longer. He knelt down and began to press the ground all around the flag. There were no hard spots, no bumps or depressions in the earth. The mystery ate at his soul more and more with each passing moment.

But, there were practical questions to be considered. He had no tools, no shovel, and no bucket. He was out in the open and was sure to draw curiosity from neighborhood busybodies. And, if he did find something of any appreciable size, how would he take it away? Where could he hide it?

This drama played on in his mind for some time, and he began to feel nervous and filled with trepidation. He could, after all, probably be charged with trespass if spotted by the police.

Finally, he realized that he simply could not walk away. He knew he would be haunted by this until he finally investigated. He just simply had to know what lay below this little flag.

Slowly, Tod began to dig about the flag with his hands, piling the turf and dirt neatly to the side. He continued cautiously for a time, but the urgency began to build and he began to dig more and more fervently. He carefully removed the flag and placed it out of harm’s way. Hopefully, he would go home with more than a small flag that indicated nothing.

The sweat now running into his eyes, he considered taking off his sweater, but thought the better of it. Better to remain ready to flee than to start shedding clothing. No evidence left behind was probably the best idea.

He continued to dig, and started to become concerned that he was wasting his time. He was now down about a foot, and so far, there was nothing to be found in the soil. When will I give up?, he wondered. He pictured himself at six feet with dirt flying up from the hole. A ridiculous image to be sure, and he almost started to crack up at the thought of it. You’re a fool, he thought. You should be home with your wife peeling potatoes, not digging around like a ten-year-old.

But, he continued. He would not leave his quest until he had some answer. He cannot let this go until he was satisfied that he investigated thoroughly enough to put this to rest.

Then, it happened. At about two feet, his fingernail scraped something that appeared to be flat and hard. He dug along the object in all directions until he discovered the size of it. It was about nine and one half inches long and four or five inches wide. It was gray and discolored in spots, but not quite rusty.

Now, he really needed to know what his small patch of ground was hiding. At least he felt vindicated in his desire to investigate. This might really be something after all, he thought.

He continued to dig until the box was exposed enough for exhumation. A funny word for something that was probably never living.

He sat and wondered what it might contain. He was nervous and filled with excitement as he stared down at the object. Maybe it is full of money. Or, maybe just a bunch of old love letters buried by a spurned lover of long ago.

Well, there was only one way to find out. He reached down, grabbed the box, and began to lift it. It was heavy, but nothing he couldn’t manage. The weight of it excited him all the more and brought the adrenaline into play. With one final jerk it was at last on the ground before him.

On the front of the box was stenciled:

Fort Ward, Arlington County
58 cal.
15th Heavy Art. Reg.

This was interesting. Apparently this box, probably an ammunition box, is from the Civil War era.

Tod sat mesmerized for a while, contemplating what this box might contain. It was about twelve inches tall, and certainly heavy, but he doubted if it still contained ammunition. That would have been far too valuable to have been buried when there was a war raging.

Now, he was even more determined to solve this mystery. He carefully opened the box and peered inside.

Among the items he discovered were:

A military document, appearing to be orders of some kind
A pocket folding knife and fork
A one dollar Union military scrip
A Union paycheck
Gloves
An empty pistol holster
An empty whiskey flask
A small glassine envelope

And one letter addressed to Miss Mary Downs in Tuckerton, NJ

All of the items were interesting, but the letter instantly got Tod’s attention. He knew his family history included someone surnamed Downs, but that was many years ago, perhaps as far back as the Civil War itself. He wasn’t sure, but he sure was going to read this letter.

Gingerly and as slowly as he could, he opened the letter. The letter read:

Dearest Mary,

I do hope, should this letter find you, that you are well and happy. I love you very much, and it is my hope that I will be with you soon.

I have been engaged with the rebels most recently at Brandy Station in Virginia. After a long difficult battle, we were forced to withdraw for the time being. But I think it can be said the Union is safely in the hands of Providence, because I do believe we will be victorious at Gettysburg.

Tending to the wounded was horrific during and after the battle. Many begged to die, and it was very difficult not to dispatch them quickly and take them out of their misery. I do hope I never see the likes of such bloodshed and suffering again.

I was then detailed to join a mule team at Gettysburg to transport confiscated gold taken from the rebels there. Lt. James Castleton and Sgt. Mike O’Rourke were in command, and we were provided with the aid of six additional civilians who were to man the coaches and mules. They were sworn in as Officers of the Militia, and we had orders to shoot any who attempted to steal the gold, or desert the mission.

Lt. Castleton took a ball in the hip shortly after leaving Gettysburg, probably by a Confederate sharpshooter, and it was discovered later that he was also suffering from malaria. His fever worsened as we marched, and it was difficult for him to remain mounted. We eventually stopped somewhere near Bell’s Branch in Maryland to administer whiskey to Mr. Castleton and get some much-needed rest while deciding how best to complete our mission in safety. We soon discovered, however, that we had lost the trail due to being distracted by concern for Lt. Castleton, and found we were lost in the wilderness and could not really know how far from Bell’s Branch we were.

It was decided to send one of the civilians, a Mr. Conners, toward the south to get help for Lt. Castleton and bring back food and supplies. Conners is a gruff, angry man and not well liked, so we all were relieved at his departure.

After almost two weeks, we did not hear from Conners, or anyone else. Lt. Castleton was very near death, we assumed, as his conditioned worsened to the point of delirium. He became racked with pain from the wound and infections, and his suffering was very difficult to witness. Finally, he started begging for someone to put him out of his misery. All through the days and nights he cried out for mercy depriving us of much needed rest. After several days of this, Sgt. O’Rourke pulled out his musket and shot the officer between the eyes at point blank range, killing him instantly. We buried him in a nearby field near an old, abandoned cabin.

The men were beginning to become concerned that no help or supplies had arrived. It was assumed that Conners was probably dead or taken prisoner by the rebels. We were running very low on provisions, and we needed to do something to improve our situation.

Sgt. O’Rourke was a trained scout, and he determined it best that he should survey the area and try to determine our location and find the best direction to take allowing us to pick up a trail or railway leading back toward Philadelphia. After much discussion and concern for his safety, it was finally agreed that this would be the best decision.

After a week, with no return of Sgt O’Rourke, we began to become concerned that he, too, may have been killed or taken prisoner. Some of the men expressed fear that if we were found, we might be charged with the murder of our commanding officers and desertion with intent to steal the gold. The execution of Lt. Castleton would not look good for us, and it would be far too easy for the brass to assume us guilty given the evidence, if found. This, if it were to happen, would almost surely lead to the gallows for most, if not all of us.

We buried most of the gold in the middle of a small thicket of woods, near a large boulder that resembled an upside-down teacup. We determined that we would each take one gold bar, and head off independently looking for some recognizable path or roadway that would lead toward Pennsylvania. We agreed that we would rendezvous in two weeks at the gunpowder factory in Wilmington, Delaware before proceeding further.

Our intention was to deliver the gold in our possession, and provide direction to the rest of the buried gold to the military and government officials. This would be offered in exchange for recognition of our successful performance of duty, and acceptance of our actions after losing our commanding officers and being in danger of rebel sharpshooters, enemy military companies, and exposure without provisions. Of course, we fully expected to be found innocent of any foul play regarding the demise of Lt. Castleton, and the apparent loss of Sgt. O’Rourke who would be presumed to be dead. Our surrender, as the unit assigned to deliver the gold with a portion of the gold in hand, would certainly be proof of our good intentions.

If, after two weeks, we did not come together at Delaware, each man would be left to his own devices. At that point, we would be concerned more for our survival than delivering the gold to Philadelphia. We reasoned that without our surrender as a unit, our defense individually would be too weak to ensure our exoneration.

As we should have reached Fort McHenry to check in by that time, we are sure the Adjutant General was growing increasingly concerned about our whereabouts. He probably would not have ordered any troops to investigate, as they would be preparing for pending battles in the Carolinas and here in Maryland. We knew the Pinkertons were often called upon whenever government money or gold were found to be missing or stolen.

We reasoned that it would be safer for us to move about independently rather than as a posse, as we were sure the Pinkertons would be engaged in a search for us by that time. They would probably not be too compassionate of our plight, and would bring the evidence and a damaging report to the military command following our capture. We thought it best to avoid them, if possible.

We began to divvy up the remaining gold and head our separate ways as agreed upon.

As the only man left with any rank (a corporal by that time) I approved of the plan. I also commandeered Lt. Castleton’s horse, packed everything in the saddle bag, saddled up and headed off into the wilderness.

Now this is where it will be upsetting for you, but please be strong and ask God for his countenance and support.

Shortly after we left the wilderness outside of Bell’s Branch, we were pursued by a group of men that appeared to be most eager to take us into custody. We assumed, and probably correctly, that these were the Pinkerton detectives we anticipated, whose primary objective was to secure the gold. In the chase that followed, I took a bullet in my upper right arm. Immediately thereafter, the other men became involved in a major skirmish with the detectives, which granted me an opportunity to escape without any further injury or difficulty.

I have since been trying to keep my wound cleaned and dressed, and I do manage to get first aid from time to time from Union nurses I come across. I don’t tell them anything other than that I became detached from my regiment, and I am trying to return to the fort of my original command for medical attention and further orders. They seem to accept the story without too much trouble.

After escaping the Pinkertons, I camped near the Severn river for a spell, keeping my distance from Annapolis for obvious reasons. Then, with the help of a barge and a steamship, I made my way to White Hall, Delaware. From there I traveled across the state and boarded another vessel, leaving me at Pennsville, New Jersey. Unfortunately, I was forced to leave the horse behind during these voyages.

Since that time, I have been pressing hard to reach Cape May, where I hoped to see my mother. My final destination is Tuckerton, where I so desparately wish to find you, and God willing, begin our lives together as husband and wife.

I have addressed this letter to Mary Downs, as I don’t want our secret elopement to be known until I am able to formally take you as my wife for good.

I am growing weaker by the day, and I’m not sure if I will make it to Cape May or Tuckerton. I could no longer carry the gold bar, and I thought it best to put it somewhere safe, with the only hope being that someone will discover it while excavating the property at some point in the future, and hand it over to you as the person addressed on the envelope. I believe I have buried this box somewhere near a place called Erma.

I ask that you send a letter to my grandmother in Pennsylvania telling her of all that I have set forth in this letter. I have written her address below my signature. I have included something for this purpose.

If I don’t see you again, please know that I have always loved you, and dreamed every day of returning to you and starting the family we planned. I’m sorry it ended this way, but please don’t ever doubt my intentions. I only did what I had to do given the circumstances, and given the chance I am sure I would have cleared my name without difficulty.

With much love,

John

Todd dropped the letter to his lap and sat transfixed. Many thoughts swirled through his consciousness, and it took some time to put them in order. He was completely amazed and flabbergasted at what he had just read, and the implications of it were just beginning to sink in.

What could this mean?, he wondered. How could this box be marked by some random flag, which had never been here before, after many visits to the property? How could it be that he would find possessions and information seemingly directly related to his family?

Mary Downs passed away many years ago, and the details of her life have been long forgotten. The poor woman probably died broken hearted as it now appears that this box was never found, and, of course, she never received the letter. No one ever mentioned her, and they never really understood where that part of the family tree came from. It came and went abruptly. No children, no heirs, and no apparent history other than Mary Downs. A real mystery.

And why was it buried here? It did not appear that this soldier had any idea why he chose this spot to bury the box.

As he sat bewildered, it suddenly occurred to him that this box was supposed to contain a gold bar. Could it be? he wondered.

Todd picked up the box and flipped it over. A sudden thud indicated the release of it’s final contents. Todd pulled the box away to discover an object, rectangular, and about three inches thick. But it was black.

But it was heavy! On a hunch, Todd pulled his pocket knife out, opened it, and scratched away at the bar. Slowly the paint fell off in flakes until finally the luster began to show. It was true! It was gold!

Now, totally beside himself, he began to chuckle. He simply could not believe what was happening. Coming to his senses, he realized he needed to put this stuff back in the box, and figure out how to get it home without drawing too much attention.

He knew he also had some detective work to do. There were a lot of questions that needed to be answered surrounding this box and it’s contents.

Todd picked up the box and headed for home. He chose to take the back woods that had a path running behind several backyards, ending at his own.

A number of days went by since the discovery of the box and it’s contents. Todd and his wife were consumed with the mystery of Mary Downs, and investigated her history in every way they could think of. They checked the Ocean County department of vital statistics, the property tax department, the local library for old newspaper articles on microfiche, and churches and other social organizations. They did not discover much as Mary apparently led a rather quite and subdued life.

After a few weeks, Todd decided to prepare the box and its contents for preservation and storage. While going through the box and it’s contents, he discovered a slip of paper, turned brown with age stuck to the bottom below where the gold bar had rested. He carefully pulled it free and set it before him. It was folded in half.

He slowly opened it. The slip of paper read as follows:

The State of New Jersey, Ocean County, ss.

I DO HEREBY CERTIFY that John J. Aberdeen and Mary C. Downs were joined in marriage by me, on the 9th day of August A.D. 1861

Rev. Thomas J. Taylor
Minister of the Gospel

This was amazing and totally beyond belief. Todd was stunned!

All through the months following the discovery of this mysterious box, Todd never considered who “John” was that signed the letter to his wife, Mary. He just assumed it was a Civil War soldier that was not connected to the family other than his nuptials to Mary Downs. They were far too concerned with Mary Downs to even consider the identity of her husband.

Now intrigued, Todd took out the military orders he ignored when he first opened the box. He unfolded it, and it read (in handwriting that took some effort to understand, which explained why Todd didn’t bother to read it the first time he examined it):

State of Virginia, &c.
Adjutant General’s Office

Providence, August 18th, 1863

Special Order No. 102

It is hereby ordered, Prvt. 1C John Aberdeen is to appear at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, and join with General George Meade, Army of the Potomac, 2nd Division. You are directed to report, without delay, to Lt. James Castleton, who has been detailed to lead an expedition, charged with the transport of confiscated Confederate material to a location in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Details to be provided following muster.

By order of the Commander in Chief,

Edward Callahan
Adjutant General

So now it was clear, the letter was signed by a Civil War soldier named John Aberdeen, but was he any relation to Todd? He decided he must find out.

This was beginning to become very hard to believe.

After some investigating in the public records, Todd discovered that John J. Aberdeen was his grandfather, and he was the same man, in fact, who married Mary Downs of Tuckerton, NJ, in 1861. The very same woman the letter in the box was addressed to.

This also means that Mary Downs was definitely a member of the family. This removed all doubt and finally explained the mysterious family tree, except for the origin of Todd’s father.

Todd’s grandmother was not Mary Downs, and it was a well-known fact she never had any children. Therefore it was only reasonable to conclude that John Aberdeen had another affair that resulted in the birth of Todd’s father. Todd’s father was brought up in an orphanage after the death of his mother — who no one ever really knew — and the assumed death of his father, John Aberdeen, during the Civil War. Not much was ever mentioned about Todd’s grandmother, other than her death at a young age, and most probably at child-birth.

Now, the pieces were beginning to fall into place, but it still was surrounded in mystery for so many reasons. Reasons that Todd could not get a strong handle of.

One day, a certified letter arrived at their door, carried by the postman. Jen signed for it, and turned it over to see who it was from. It was from the Wilson Greenaulgh Real Estate Corporation, in Philadelphia. Immediately she was filled with anxiety and began trembling. She brought the letter to Todd, and they both began to become very concerned that this letter would inform them of the sale of the house, and, presumably, that they would soon be evicted. After much deliberation and a few tears, Todd decided they must find out what the letter contained. Surely, he reasoned, the reality of the situation was probably not as bad as they imagined in their state of panic.

Todd opened the letter, and it read:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Aberdeen,

Pursuant to Mrs. Aberdeen’s query with Jim Greenaulgh, a member of our Board of Directors and her brother, concerning a parcel of land in Erma, Cape May County, New Jersey, we determined to investigate the matter. This letter is the result of that investigation, as well as the final determination the Board has settled upon concerning the property and its ultimate disposition.

Mary Aberdeen, nee Downs, sold the property many years ago, which was subsequently held by a trust, the ownership of which was connected with a family here in Philadelphia. Upon conveyance of the trust through a Last Will and Testament, the heir determined to sell the trust’s assets. The Trust held a number of parcels of land throughout Cape May County. The sale was handled, in part, by this firm, with your brother taking lead agency throughout the execution of sale of said properties.

The parcel in question, located at the terminus of Grove Avenue, adjacent to a wooded area, encompassing one and one half acres, was among a few of the properties that were withheld in speculation by this firm in anticipation of some possible future development in the area. The taxes have been paid by Wilson Greenaulgh since taking possession of it in 1962. There are no encumbrances, judgments, or liens currently against the property.

Following a meeting of the Board on 9 August of this year, and in consideration of Mr. Greenaulgh’s desire to sell his property nearby, of which you have been his guests, it was decided that the property in question would be conveyed to Todd Aberdeen and his wife, Jennifer Aberdeen nee Greenaulgh. Jim Greenaulgh has made a small disbursement of personal funds to the Board to cover legal expenses, ancillary investigations costs, etc., therefore, there has been adequate monetary consideration to make the transaction legally binding.

The new Title Deed, made out to Todd Aberdeen, as well as a surveyor’s report documenting the exact location, area, and presumed postal address of the property is enclosed as well.

Be advised the taxes have been paid for this year, however, you will become liable for the property taxes commencing in 1976 going forward.

It is with great pleasure and satisfaction that Wilson Greenaulgh has been able to convey the property to you, as we are sure this will bring great relief and peace of mind given the current circumstances.

With warm regards and best wishes,

Maclom W. Wilson
Executive Vice President
Wilson Greenaulgh Real Estate Corporation

Todd and Jen embraced and stood there for quite a long time, sobbing and bewildered with total disbelief of what they had just read. The stress and worry melted from them like wax in the sun, and they knew that finally they could relax and start to enjoy life once again.

Jen never bothered to mention that she asked her brother for assistance with the property and what connection it might have with Mary Downs. She actually forgot about the conversation, and to be honest, she and Todd were not at all enthusiastic about speaking with him after his intent to sell their home out from under them.

As things began to get back to normal, Todd and Jen began planning for the construction of their new home. There was much to be done; meeting with contractors, interior decorators, furniture companies, and many other details took much of their attention. They were so happy to be engaged in life again, and to have a great hope of the future.

Finally, one day while preparing the box for storage, the old, small, glassine envelope fell on the desk before him. He picked it up and examined it, figuring it couldn’t contain anything of any real value.

He was more wrong then he could ever imagine.

Opening it, he found in the envelope a postage stamp. It was an 1861 Benjamin Franklin 1 cent stamp. The stamp was in mint condition. Todd had been looking for a civil war stamp for his collection for years!

That stamp, at that time in 1975, was worth an estimated $250,000.00 to the right collector.

So, in the end Tod Aberdeen and his wife, Jen, were not to be homeless. Todd arranged for a machinist he knew to melt down the gold and convert it into smaller bars (for the price of one bar). This would allow him to slowly sell them to rare metals dealers, and without question or interference from the government.

He was also able to sell the stamp for $200,000.00 to a collector in Philadelphia.

With the money and property they took possession of, they were able to have that house built on the Down’s property and live in relative comfort for the rest of their lives.

Months later, as Todd and Jen were in the midst of unpacking items in their new home. There came a knock at the door, and Todd answered it with a kerchief and beads of sweat streaming down his face.

It was an old friend, Ed Christensen. Todd had known Ed from when he worked at the cannery. They went back decades, but saw less and less of each other over the years.

The two settled down in the kitchen for a beer, and Todd began relating the story of the flag, and the box, and all the other things that had transpired over the last six months.

Ed became quite interested in the flag that Todd handed him.

Twirling it in his fingers as he gazed upon it, Ed asked, “Tell me, was your father or grandfather ever involved with the Masons?”

“Well, no, not that I am aware of. Dad never mentioned anything about it” replied Todd, taking another swig of beer.“

Well, this flag contains a symbol, that I’m pretty sure is related to the Freemansons. It is not a military star, as you thought, but it is known as the Masonic Blazing Star. It actually represents the sun.”

This was an interesting bit of information, but Todd never paid it much mind as the years passed.

And all through the years that ensued, the questions still remained, and haunted him for the rest of his days:

Who put that flag in that field directly above John Aberdeen’s box on that fateful day?

Was John Aberdeen a Freemason, and was it the Masons who placed the flag as some kind of memorial of him?

Why did John Aberdeen choose that plot of land to bury his possessions when he could not possibly have known that his wife would later take ownership of it?

How did Mary Downs end up with the very same plot of land from her grandfather, who probably never knew of John Aberdeen or their secret elopement?

And, wasn’t it odd that the date of the Wilson Greenaulgh board meeting was the very same month and date as his grandfather’s wedding day?

We may never know the answer to these questions.

Oh, and it is also interesting that Todd Aberdeen passed away, in 1989, on AUGUST 9th!

The End(?)

The Downs Plot Mystery

© 2025 Bob Lee