This story, under the title of “Seeking for Buried Treasure,” appeared
many years ago in the Houston Post. It was said to have been related by
a Mr. Marion Meredith of Port Neches.
Said Mr. Meredith: “It was before the Civil War that a neighbor of mine
got hold of a chart from an old Mexican woman purporting to locate a
vast treasure hidden by pirates in the marsh near the mouth of the
Neches River.
“It was said that the vessel bearing this treasure was so closely
pursued by a Spanish craft that the crew cut their cable and left their
anchor. The man who got the chart felt so sure of finding the treasure
that he concluded to go alone to seek it in order that he might not
have to divide it. He located the spot where the vessel was reported to
have left her chain and found the chain there without any trouble. He
soon found where the treasure should be and began to dig. After he had
dug a few feet, some unseen power seemed to seize him and he fled from
the place. A few days later he died without having been able to speak.”
Mr. Meredith subsequently obtained the chart and, knowing the
circumstances of the former effort, he associated with a man noted for
his bravery, an old Texan who had roughed it for years. We will call
this man Clawson. After making all necessary preparations, he and
Clawson proceeded to investigate. They found the old rusty chain,
whence, a certain direction and distance, the chart called for a tree
with a heart cut in the bark. They located the tree. The heart was
there; then in a certain direction and at a certain distance they found
the spot sought for. It was located on a small island, a mere shell
bank in the marsh. The tools of the former treasure hunter were there,
and the hole he had dug. They began digging and soon found a human
skeleton, which they carefully removed from the hole and laid upon the
bank. Meredith dug till he was tired, when Clawson relieved him. He was
resting on the edge of the hole, expecting every turn of the spade to
uncover the treasure, when suddenly Clawson clambered from the hole,
his face drawn and pale. Clutching Meredith’s arm, he said in a husky
voice, “Come, for God’s sake, let’s get away from here.”
“What’s the matter? What have you seen?” asked Meredith.
“I have seen hell and its horrors. Come away from here,” and he pulled
Meredith to their boat. They left so hurriedly that they forgot to take
their tools. No other explanation could be got from Clawson, but he
begged Meredith, if he valued his life, not to dig there again. Years
afterwards Meredith met Clawson in Beaumont and begged him to tell what
had frightened him. “For God’s sake,” he answered, “don’t ask me about
that; it has haunted me all these years.”
After a time Meredith returned to the spot, recovered his tools, and
buried the skeleton in the hole, but he had so much confidence in
Clawson that he could not dig again. Since then he has several times
visited the spot. Once a party of young men volunteered to go with him
and dig up the ghost and the treasure. His reply to them was: “I will
take you there and stay with you, boys, but there is not enough money
in Texas to get me to dig in that hole.”