If you’re like me, you probably thought mummies were only royalty or high ranking officials, but that was not true. Once embalmers got a fairly good working procedure for mummification, it wasn’t just kings and officials who were being mummified.  Nearly everyone in Egyptian society who could afford it, was having it done.  By the end of the 7^th century AD, the country contained an estimated 500 MILLION mummies! Egyptians from the 1100’s onward thought of them more like a natural resource than the bodies of distant relatives, and treated them as such.

For over 400 years, mummies were one of Egypt’s largest export industries.  As early as 1100, Arabs and Christians ground them up for use as medicine, which was often rubbed into wounds, mixed into food, or stirred into tea. By 1600, you could buy a pound of mummy powder in Scotland for about 8 shillings.

But by then, medicinal mummy use began to decline, as many doctors started questioning the practice.  “Not only does this wretched drug do no good to the sick,” the French surgeon Ambrose Pare wrote, “…but it causes them great pain in their stomach, gives them evil smelling breath, and brings on serious vomiting which is more likely to stir up the blood and worsen hemorrhaging than to stop it.” He recommended using mummies as fish bait.

By the 1800’s, mummies were imported only as curiosities, where it was fashionable to unwrap them during dinner parties.

Mummies were also one of the first sources of recycled paper.  During one 19^th century rag shortage (in the days when paper was made of cloth fibers, not wood fibers), one Canadian paper manufacturer imported Egyptian mummies as a literal source of raw materials.  He unwrapped the cloth and made it into sturdy brown paper, which he sold to butchers for wrapping food.  The scheme died out after only a few months, when employees in charge of unwrapping the mummies came down with cholera.

Note: Tomorrow we learn how to make a mummy.

Yes, that’s NOT a typo.  There have been several nominees for Frankensteins in my opinion.  But first a warning: some of these segments are quite gruesome, and if you are a dog lover—perhaps watch Young Frankenstein instead and have a few laughs.

Jonathon Dippel

Was “mad scientist” and alchemist Johann Konrad Dippel the inspiration and original model of Mary Shelley’s Victor Frankenstein? Although Mary Shelley never mentioned Dippel or a castle in Germany in any of her previously known writings, the similarities are astonishing.

Johann Konrad Dippel was born in 1673 and died in 1734. He wrote over seventy works and treatises on mathematics, chemistry and philosophy, most written under the pseudonym of Christianus Democritus, with his texts now buried in various academic collections.  Dippel was an alchemist, trying to turn base metals to gold, and searching especially for the Philosopher’s Stone and the Elixir Vitae, the secret to extended, if not eternal life.

Dippel was an early chemical manufacturer. He created a concoction called “Dippel’s Oil” or “Dippel’s Animal Oil” used primarily as an agent in the tanning of animal hides, from where it most likely gets its name, and in cloth coloring. It was also said to be useful in calming the pangs and distempers of pregnancy. Whether it was to be used topically, digested, or as an aromatic, is unclear. Its chemical composition with ingredients like Butyronitrile Methylamine and Dimethylpyrrole Valeramide would suggest that ingesting any significant amount would not be very healthy.

Dippel’s connection to Frankenstein comes from his days at the castle on the hilltop near Darmstadt above the Rhine River Valley below Mainz. Johann Dippel was resident there for a time when the castle had fallen vacant of its lordly Franckenstein family owners after the Reformation and the War of European Succession. Dippel tried unsuccessfully to induce the Landgrave of Hesse to deed him the castle in exchange for Dippel’s providing the duke with the secret of everlasting life, the infamous elixir.

He never did come up with a successful Elixir of Eternal Life while at Darmstadt and eventually moved on, with the locals rather chasing him away like those pitchfork wielding villagers in the Universal Frankenstein movies. His permanent acquisition of the castle was opposed and the legends of his making his oil and formulas from the body parts of human corpses was likely an early form of conspiracy theory, born from his boiling animal bones to get ingredients, mixed with the castle’s time as a prison where prisoners were buried in pauper’s graves, and it was hinted that he dug them up to make his concoction, and therefore an easy connection to digging up the dead to bring eternal life.

Dippel moved on from the castle at Darmstadt, still ever seeking his life sustaining elixir, but in the end it may have had the opposite effect. He died of complications of chemical poisoning, either from his close work with some very toxic substances over time, or perhaps sampling his own elixir formula, which may have had the opposite effect than the one intended.

Andre Ure

Andrew Ure was born on May 18, 1778, in Glasgow, United Kingdom. The son of a wealthy cheesemonger, he received an expensive education, studying at both Glasgow University and Edinburgh University. He received his MD from the University of Glasgow in 1801 before spending a brief time with the army, serving as a surgeon. In 1803, he finally settled in Glasgow; becoming a member of the Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons.

In 1804, at the newly formed Andersonian Institution (now the University of Strathclyde), Ure became a professor of chemistry and natural philosophy. He gave evening lectures on chemistry and mechanics, which he encouraged the average working man and woman to attend. With audiences of up to 500, his lectures inspired the foundation of numerous mechanical institutions throughout Britain.

During this same time, Ure worked as a consultant for the Irish linen board. There he devised his alkalimeter for volumetric estimates of the true alkali contents of various substances that were being used in the linen industry. By this time, he had successfully earned himself a reputation as a highly competent practical chemist.

It was at Glasgow University where Andrew Ure became acquainted with James Jeffray, a professor of anatomy and physiology. Jeffray was a renowned teacher, attracting over 200 students to his classes each year. An innovative surgeon, he is credited (along with Edinburgh obstetrician James Aitken) with the invention of the chainsaw for use in the excision of diseased bone. As a teacher in anatomy, a field that was growing in demand, his options for teaching instruments were limited. The only legal supply of material for dissection was the bodies of hanged criminals. On November 4, 1818, Ure joined Jeffray in the dissection of one such criminal.

Matthew Clydesdale was a weaver, arrested and found guilty of murdering a 70 year old man in a drunken rage. He was sentenced to death by hanging, and on November 4, 1818, that execution was carried out. Upon his death, his body was placed in a cart and transported up to Glasgow University and into the Anatomy Theatre.

During this time, people, especially scientists, were fascinated with electricity. In fact, in 1780, Italian anatomy professor, Luigi Galvani, discovered that by utilizing sparks of electricity he could make a dead frog twitch and jerk. This discovery quickly led to others experimenting with electrical currents on other animals. Shows were made where scientists would electrify the heads of pigs and bulls.

James Jeffray and Andrew Ure would take that experiment one step further. The crowd gathered in the Glasgow University Anatomy Theatre where they would learn what would happen when electricity was exposed to a deceased human body.

With his galvanic battery charged, the experiments commenced.

Incisions were made at the neck, hip, and heels, exposing different nerves. Ure stood over the body, holding two metallic rods, charged by a 270 plate voltaic battery. Those rods, when placed to the different nerves, caused the body to convulse and writhe. When the rods were touched to Clydesdale’s diaphragm, his chest heaved then fell. “When the one rod was applied to the slight incision in the tip of the forefinger,” Ure later described to the Glasgow Literary Society, “the fist being previously clenched, that finger extended instantly; and from the convulsive agitation of the arm, he seemed to point to the different spectators, some of whom thought he had come to life.”

The experiment lasted about an hour. Ure wrote his account of the experiment, and even delivered a lecture. Ure and Jeffray did not bring Matthew Clydesdale back to life, though they did not believe it was a failure on their methodology. Instead, Ure believed that if his death had not been caused by bodily injury, there was a possibility that his life could have been restored. He also noted that if their experiment had succeeded in bringing him back to life, it would not have been celebrated. After all, he was a murderer.

The story eventually took on a life of its own. Memories and accounts differed, and one such account is that of Peter Mackenzie. In 1865, Mackenzie claimed to have been present at the Glasgow University Anatomy Theatre that day. He claims that Ure had actually been successful, and Clydesdale had been brought back to life. To abate the risen fear among the crowd, one of the scientists grabbed a scalpel and slit his throat. Clydesdale fell down, once again, dead.

Robert Cornish

Tales of Mad Scientists have been in existence for centuries now. And while many are criticized for being wacky, inhumane and downright psychopathic many can also be celebrated for making breakthroughs within various scientific fields–especially within the field of medicine where procedures today have origins from millennia ago; in medieval times and before them in prehistory. One such tale with a more modern spin comes from the 1930s in Berkley, California where an American called Robert Cornish attempted to bring the dead back to life.

Cornish was a medical phenomenon, graduating at 18 from the University of California and gaining a Doctorate at 22. He was a handsome chap but his eccentricity was soon apparent as one of his invention concepts was a pair of spectacles to allow the reading of newspapers underwater. This may illustrate his intelligence; however as to gain a patent in those times was considered very noteworthy and could propel a person to fame. Cornish worked at the Department of Experimental Biology at a University when he began to get notoriety for something of a darker nature than underwater specs.

Dog-lovers read no further. Cornish began an experiment to cure the undead but not permitted to use human beings he had to operate on dogs. The doctor organized a public demonstration which Time magazine witnessed. He named his patients – five fox terriers – Lazarus after the mythical figure brought back to life by Jesus.

Robert Cornish tried many different techniques before gaining moderate success with the following. He would suffocate the animals first with either Nitrogen or ether. He would wait no more than five minutes after the heart had stopped to try and resuscitate. To do this he found a way to keep the blood circulating by using a piece of wood called a teeterboard, a type of see-saw to rock the patient up and down to maintain the circulation of blood.

Before re-animation, he would inject the creature with a concoction of saline, oxygen, adrenaline, blood as well as anti-coagulants and coagulants. Oxygen would be blown into the mouth via a rubber tube. Bear in mind this was in the 1950s when CPR and techniques of the sort were in their infancy meaning his methods were extremely right-field.

The first three dogs were revived but showed little signs of life after. The best result was Lazarus II who was in a coma for eight hours before passing again. The fourth dog – Lazarus IV – came back to life albeit blind and brain-damaged, Cornish reported that she recovered to near full strength in a matter of months. Lazarus V was the same but returned to normality in shorter time. These are the words of Doctor Cornish only however and were not confirmed by Time or anyone else it appears. Despite these factors, Cornish hailed his experiments a success.

The mad-cap doctor was heavily criticized and eventually fired from the UCLA Laboratory when protestations about the canine killings reached their ears. He was forced to do his experiments in the confines of his own abode and with pigs rather than dogs.

Requiring funding, Robert Cornish tried to clear his name by convincing people that his work was vital. This was through a movie titled ‘Life Returns’. Cornish played himself as does one of the Lazarus dogs. It uses a familiar aspect to pull at the heartstrings of the audience, with the doctor attempting to resurrect his son’s dead dog. It was the only way his son would love him again after all. The film was far from a success and ergo did nothing to improve the reputation of the doctor.

His next plan was to find a human patient. He searched the jails and found a willing convict called Thomas McMonigle, an inmate of San Quentin prison, convicted of killing a fourteen-year-old girl. The government declined the request on compassionate grounds. There is another rumor however which seems to be justified by newspaper reports from the time. This relates to the courts fearing a ‘double jeopardy’ clause. Death by the gas chamber which would have released the convict from his conviction and therefore he would have been a free man.

Vladimir Demikhov

Calling Soviet doctor Vladimir Demikhov a mad scientist may be undercutting his contributions to the world of medicine, but some of his radical experiments certainly fit the title. Case in point — though it may seem like myth, propaganda, or a case of photoshopped history — in the 1950s, Vladimir Demikhov actually created a two-headed dog.

Even before creating his two-headed dog, Demikhov was a pioneer in transplantology — he even coined the term. After transplanting a number of vital organs between dogs (his favorite experimental subjects) he aimed, amid much controversy, to see if he could take things further: He wanted to graft the head of one dog onto the body of another, fully intact dog.

He was “successful”. In the above picture, laboratory assistant Maria Tretekova lends a hand as noted Russian surgeon Dr. Vladimir Demikhov feeds the two-headed dog he created by grafting the head and two front legs of a puppy onto the back of the neck of a full-grown German shepherd.

{{SHUDDER}}

I can’t leave the reader with such horrible images…let’s end with some happy, funny ones instead.

The Burning of Washington was a British invasion of Washington City (now Washington DC), during the War of 1812. It is the only time since the Revolutionary War that a foreign power has captured and occupied the capitol of the United States.

The United Kingdom was already at war with France when the Americans declared war in 1812, but the war with France took up most of Britain’s attention and military resources. The initial British strategy against the United States focused on imposing a partial blockade at sea, and maintaining a defensive stance on land. Reinforcements were held back from Canada and reliance was instead made on local militias and native allies to bolster the British Army in Canada. However, with the defeat and exile of Napoleon in April 1814, Britain was able to use its now available troops and ships to prosecute its war with the United States

Following the defeat of American forces at the Battle of Bladensburg on August 24, 1814, a British force led by Major General Robert Ross marched to Washington. That night, British forces set fire to multiple government and military buildings, including the White House (then called the Presidential Mansion), the Capitol Building, as well as other facilities of the government. The attack was in part a retaliation for American destruction in Canada: U.S. forces had burned and looted its capitol the previous year and then had burned buildings in Port Dover. Less than a day after the attack began, a heavy thunderstorm—possibly a hurricane—and a tornado extinguished the fires. The occupation of Washington lasted for roughly 26 hours.

 President James Madison, military officials, and his government evacuated and were able to find refuge for the night in Brookeville, a small town in Maryland, which is known today as the “United States’ Capital for a Day.”; President Madison spent the night in the house of Caleb Bentley, a Quaker who lived and worked in Brookeville. Bentley’s house, known today as the Madison House, still exists. Following the storm, the British returned to their ships, many of which required repairs due to the storm.

Rear Admiral George Cockburn had commanded the squadron in Chesapeake Bay since the previous year. On June 25, he wrote to Admiral Alexander Cochrane stressing that the defenses there were weak, and he felt that several major cities were vulnerable to attack. Cochrane suggested attacking Baltimore, Washington, and Philadelphia. Rear Admiral Cockburn accurately predicted that “within a short period of time, with enough force, we could easily have at our mercy the capital”. He had recommended Washington as the target, because of the comparative ease of attacking the national capital and “the greater political effect likely to result”.  Major General Ross was less optimistic. He “never dreamt for one minute that an army of 3,500 men with 1,000 marines reinforcement, with no cavalry, hardly any artillery, could march 50 miles inland and capture an enemy capital”.  Ross also refused to accept Cockburn’s recommendation to burn the entire city. He spared nearly all of the privately owned properties.

The Capitol was, according to some contemporary travelers, the only building in Washington “worthy to be noticed”, so it was a prime target for the British. Upon arrival into the city, the British targeted the Capitol (first the southern wing, containing the House of Representatives, then the northern wing, containing the Senate). Prior to setting it aflame, the British sacked the building (which at that time housed Congress, the Library of Congress, and the Supreme Court).

The British intended to burn the building to the ground. They set fire to the southern wing first. The flames grew so quickly that the British were prevented from collecting enough wood to burn the stone walls completely. However, the Library of Congress’s contents in the northern wing contributed to the flames on that side. Among the items destroyed was the 3,000-volume collection of the Library of Congress and the intricate decorations of the neoclassical columns, pediments, and sculptures.  The wooden ceilings and floors burned, and the glass skylights melted because of the intense heat. The building was not a complete loss however; the House rotunda, the east lobby, the staircases, and Latrobe’s famous Corn-Cob Columns in the Senate entrance hall all survived.

After burning the Capitol, the British turned northwest up Pennsylvania Avenue toward the White House. After US government officials and President Madison fled the city, the First Lady Dolly Madison received a letter from her husband, urging her to be prepared to leave Washington at a moment’s notice. Dolley organized the enslaved and other staff to save valuables from the British. It has often been stated in print, that when Mrs. Madison escaped from the White House, she cut out from the frame the large portrait of Washington (now in one of the parlors there), and carried it off. She had no time to do that. It would have required a ladder to get it down. Instead, it was later revealed in a journal that the French door-keeper and the gardener were actually responsible for removing and saving the portrait. All she carried off was the silver in her handbag, as the British were thought to be but a few squares off, and were expected any moment. The soldiers burned the president’s house, and fuel was added to the fires that night to ensure they would continue burning into the next day.

The day after the destruction of the White House, Rear Admiral Cockburn entered the building of the D.C. newspaper, the National Intelligencer, intending to burn it down. However, several women persuaded him not to because they were afraid the fire would spread to their neighboring houses. Cockburn wanted to destroy the newspaper because its reporters had written so negatively about him, branding him “The Ruffian”. Instead, he ordered his troops to tear the building down brick by brick, and ordered all the “C” type destroyed “so that the rascals can have no further means of abusing my name”.

The British then sought out the United States Treasury and the Department of War in hopes of finding money or items of worth, but the Treasury only held old records and the only items remaining in the War and State Department were letters and appointment recommendations. Still, the buildings were burned.  “When the smoke cleared from the dreadful attack, the Patent Office was the only Government building … left untouched” in Washington.

The Americans had already burned much of the historic Washington Navy Yard, the frigate USS Columbia and the USS Argus to prevent the British from obtaining stores of ammunition and guns. In the afternoon of August 25, General Ross sent two hundred men to secure a fort on Greenleaf’s Point. The fort, later known as Fort McNair, had already been destroyed by the Americans, but 150 barrels of gunpowder remained. While the British were trying to destroy it by dropping the barrels into a well, the powder ignited. As many as thirty men were killed in the explosion, and many others were maimed.

Less than four days after the attack began, a sudden, very heavy thunderstorm—possibly a hurricane—put out the fires. It also spun off a tornado that passed through the center of the capital, setting down on Constitution Avenue and lifting two cannons before dropping them several yards away and killing British troops and American civilians alike. Following the storm, the British troops returned to their ships, many of which were badly damaged. There is some debate regarding the effect of this storm on the occupation. While some assert that the storm forced their retreat, it seems likely from their destructive and arsonous actions before the storm, and their written orders from Cochrane to “destroy and lay waste”, that their intention was merely to raze the city, rather than occupy it for an extended period. It is also clear that commander Robert Ross never intended to damage private buildings as had been recommended by Cockburn and Alexander Cochrane.

Whatever the case, the British occupation of Washington lasted only about 26 hours. Despite this, the “Storm that saved Washington”, as it became known, did the opposite according to some. The rains sizzled and cracked the already charred walls of the White House and ripped away at structures the British had no plans to destroy (such as the Patent Office). The storm may have exacerbated an already dire situation for Washington D.C.

President Madison and the military officers returned to Washington by September 1, on which date Madison issued a proclamation calling on citizens to defend the District of Columbia. Congress did not return for three and a half weeks, and when they did, they assembled in special session on September 19 in the Post and Patent Office building at Blodgett’s Hotel, one of the few buildings large enough to hold all members to be spared. Congress met in this building until December 1815, when construction of the Capitol was complete.

Navajo Code Talkers Day, celebrated every year on August 14, is a day that holds great importance in the history of the U.S. This is because the day recognizes the contributions of Navajo marines during World War II. Yes, Navajo marines encoded and transmitted messages using a complex Navajo language-based code during a time when secret communication was essential to win a war. And guess what? The code was never broken by Japanese forces in the Pacific and proved to be of great assistance to the U.S. Marines. On this day, celebrate the great American heroes and their service to the nation!

During both World Wars I and II, the U.S. military needed to encrypt communications from enemy intelligence. American Indians had their own languages and dialects that few outside their tribes understood; therefore, their languages were ideal encryption mechanisms. Over the course of both wars, the Army and the Marine Corps recruited hundreds of American Indians to become Code Talkers. Records at the National Archives document the origins of this program and the group’s wartime contributions.

World War I

Stationed in France in 1918, Choctaw Indians from the 142nd Infantry Regiment, 36th Division, became the first Code Talkers. At the time, the enemy frequently intercepted Allied communications, inhibiting tactical plans and troop movements.

Leaders of the 142nd turned to American Indian soldiers in the regiment for help. They selected two Choctaw officers to supervise a communications system staffed by eighteen other tribal members. This team began transmitting battle messages in the Choctaw language. The enemy never broke their “code,” and Allied leaders deemed their efforts a success.

For the remainder of the war, the Army continued to enlist soldiers from other tribes as Code Talkers, including the Cheyenne, Comanche, Cherokee, Osage, and Yankton Sioux.

World War II

When the U.S. entered World War II, military leaders remembered the success of the Choctaw Code Talkers and enlisted new recruits from the Navajo, Kiowa, Hopi, Creek, Seminole, and other tribes to encrypt messages for the Army and Marine Corps. (Some sources say Philip Johnston, the son of a missionary who had grown up in the Navajo Nation, suggested using the Navajo language as a code.)

Working with Navajo leaders, the Marine Corps initially recruited 29 Navajo men to train as Code Talkers in specially designed courses. By the end of the war, the Marines had over 400 Navajo men trained as Code Talkers, many of them serving in the Pacific Theater. The Army had similar training programs for its Code Talkers, who generally served in Europe and North Africa.

Their special communication services were used in one of the most extensive military operations ever, the one that happened in Normandy in June of 1944, known as D-Day. They were also pivotal when it came to the battle of Iwo Jima when they secretly transferred more than 800 messages between the command centers and the battlefield.

However, it was not until the 1990s that the value of Navajo code talkers was publicly recognized. In 2001, the veterans that were still alive received the highest honor that can be awarded by the Congress – the Congressional Gold Medal. In the years that followed, their contributions were legally recognized by the Congress, as they passed the Code Talkers Recognition Act in 1982.  In 2014, Arizona passed legislation declaring every August 14 Navajo Code Talkers Day in Arizona.

The Navajo Code

When the Navajo code was first developed, the original selection of 211 words was ascribed with different meanings. In World War II, that number went up to 411. The reason why this code was so difficult to crack is that the Navajo language did not contain any military terminology. To make this work, the Navajo code talkers created an alphabet system that used Navajo words, instead of standard spelling. Also, certain words got a particular meaning, and it looked like this:

The Navajo word for an eagle was atsa, which was a code for a transport plane. Paaki (Hopi language) stood for houses on water, which meant that they were talking about ships. Comanches used the word wakaree’e to name a turtle, and when transferred to code – this was a tank. The Choctaw tribe used the words tushka chipota, which translated to warrior soldier, or just soldier when it came to code. Besh-lo was an iron fish, which obviously meant that a submarine is spotted.

Dutch Schultz was born Arthur Flegenheimer in 1902, but he was already a career criminal by the age of twenty-five. Reported to have had 136 people killed in under ten years, he made millions illegally manufacturing and distributing bootleg liquor during Prohibition.

Dutch Schultz was a classic example of someone being at the right place at the right time. With Prohibition taking hold of the United States between 1920 and 1933, he got his foot on the ladder and never looked back.

Dutch Schulz was born Arthur Simon Flegenheimer in 1902. By the age of 25 he was already a career criminal. Reported to have had 136 people killed in under ten years, he made millions illegally manufacturing and distributing bootleg liquor during Prohibition. It is speculated that his gangster name could have come from the company he became associated with, Schultz Trucking. They transported booze down from Canada for thirsty customers.

From there, Schultz fell in with the formidable Joey Noe, who ran a speakeasy. They created a partnership that challenged the existing underworld authorities– the Mafia’s Five Families and the Irish Mob were their opponents. Schultz was undeterred and kept going, even after Prohibition had ended. A lottery scam was the next move to bolster his bulging finances. He also put the squeeze on restaurants – pay up or wind up on the menu.

With his bank balance coming under serious scrutiny, Schulz realized he would be indicted for income tax invasion. He immediately took steps to protect his money. He decided that he needed a nest egg to fall back on in case he was sent to prison, so he had his top lieutenants clean out his safety deposit boxes and gather together all of his cash from his available bank accounts.

At a hideaway in Connecticut, Dutch, “Lulu” Rosencrantz, and Marty Krompier packed everything up in a steel-plated strongbox. One night, Dutch and Lulu traveled to Phoenicia, New York, and buried everything near the trunk of a tree with an “X” carved into it. Dutch swore Lulu to secrecy.

Schultz then decided his only course of action was to whack prosecutor Thomas Dewey. He thinned out his competition but was eventually talked out of murdering Dewey. His ruthless behavior, however, spooked the crime syndicate, who finally shot Schultz at the Palace Chop House in Newark. On October 23, 1935, Schultz was gunned down by members of the crime syndicate. His bodyguard, “Lulu” Rosencrantz, also fell from shots by rival Mafia figures.

Before his death, Schultz made his confession about his treasure. And even though he swore Lulu to secrecy, Lulu couldn’t keep his mouth shut and told Krompier where the treasure was buried. At some point, he even drew Krompier a map to the treasure. But as fate would have it, Krompier also couldn’t keep his mouth shut and told several people about the treasure. Two henchmen eventually caught up with Marty at a barber shop in New York City, gunned him down and took the map. Krompier survived the attack, but he was never able to locate the treasure without the map.

The treasure is said to be a 2′ by 3′ waterproof container holding gold, diamonds, war bonds, and thousand-dollar bills. According to treasure seekers, a main area of interest is Stony Clove Creek in Phoenicia, NY. Why? Because apparently a picture of the creek was included in Schulz’s possessions passed down to relatives, and they are convinced a nondescript picture of “nothing in particular” along a creek HAS to have meaning.

Schultz’s own lawyer Dixie Davis, claimed to have seen the box in question, and there was the “dying declaration” of Schultz himself. Although reading through the rantings that were recorded by the police at the scene, I couldn’t discern anything remotely resembling a declaration of anything. I have read on line that treasure hunters meet annually in the Catskills to continue the search for the Dutch’s treasure.