Toby Tubby's Gold (6)

I found some interesting information at the Oxford Library. I didn’t see the original book but they did have it on microfilm. This part seemed to relate to the same John, a slave boy that was owned by Chief Toby Tubby.
It left no doubt in my mind that he was won in a card game.
We left Spring Lake after a relaxing weekend of playing cards, enjoying the healthy, refreshing waters, and imbibing in strong spirits in our camaraderie. On the return trip a strange and curious event occurred that I was fortunate to bear witness to.
Feeling our way south toward Wyatte, the young slave boy that Chief Toby Tubby had won announced his presence by congratulating the Chief on his skill in cards and thanking him for saving him from the ruffian that had previously owned him.
He finished this brief oratory with the declaration that he was sure the Chief had won at least $463 plus himself. This was the exact amount that Chief Toby Tubby had been fortunate enough to win as he had shared this information with me.
I, at that time, asked the child his name. “John, Mistah Doctor suh” This young boy could not have been more than eight and I questioned how he knew how much money the Chief had won. Obviously he had no formal schooling or orientation in mathematics as a slave boy. He replied that he did not know but that “numbers jist work in my heads all, suh” At this time I tested his skills by suggesting simple numbers to add, 10 + 12, 24+18 etcetera which he gave the answer to as quick as I could ask. I tried harder numbers that I had to add myself. The sum of 345 +716 and other such numbers that he gave the answer to almost as soon as I asked. Soon the whole wagon was shouting out numbers for the boy to add and subtract. No matter the number, the boy always gave a quick and decisive answer immediately even though I was busy trying to add most of the sums on a piece of parchment I had found in my bag.
The child seemed to be a prodigy of mathematics and I remember looking at the stunned Chiefs face which then turned to me and smiled. He said “I have great use for this young boy.” This turned out to be a very true admonition involving the welfare of my friend, Chief Toby Tubby.

Toby Tubby's Gold (5)

A Letter From Peggy McCall
This is part of a letter from a Miss Peggy McCall to her friend Mary Lou Williams in Water Valley. The letter is dated May 16, 1851 and I have only included the part that seemed to be about Chief Toby Tubby.
“Do you remember that little slave boy, John, the one was saved from being buried alive by the Indians? Well now he is grown and goes by the name of John Campbell. He is an amazing man here, loved and respected by whites and blacks alike. All the children call him Mr. John….”
Everyone around the Oxford area knows the Campbell family and they are still respected today. I put his name on the list to do more research on.

Toby Tubby's Gold (4)

Princess Hoka
The first white man to come to Lafayette County as a settler was named John Covenant. He was an explorer, adventurer and what we know as a frontiersman today. He crossed into this territory along the Indian Trail known as the Natchez Trace, made friends with the Chickasaw Indians near Pontotoc and continued westward until he reached the beautiful and untouched forest around Oxford and the Tallahatchie River bottoms.
He found a land of plenty. Game was plentiful, the Indians peaceful and friendly, and trapping along the River and it’s tributaries was excellent. He built a cabin on the edge of the creek close to where the Oxford Library is today and set up camp. The Indian village was almost a days ride North and he kept his privacy except for the occasional Indian or white traveler. At that time there were two trails that came across the area. The trail west from Pontotoc and the main trail that started somewhere near Mobile, wound up through Mississippi, came into the area where the communities of Toccopola and Yocona are east of Oxford and they met right in front of his camp.
Over a year he became almost part of the tribe as he was such a novelty to the Indians with his strange skin and strange ways. He learned much from the Chickasaw and in turn taught them about his way of life. He would have moved further west within a year or two, if not for one small thing. He fell in love with a beautiful young Indian girl.
This was not any Indian girl. This was Hoka, the daughter of Chief Tobo Tubby, Chief of all the Chickasaw tribe and the cost to win her was not easy. Covenant worked another year gathering furs, building canoes, trading for horses and bartering for gifts before he was allowed to marry the young woman in the Indian tradition. Hoka was also the sister of Toby Tubby.
Covenant and Hoka set up house at his cabin and it did not take long until it had evolved into a trading post. Hoka was bright and quickly learned about trading and the white mans desire for money and gold. She worked hard to get the help of the Indians in the area for trade and the establishment of business in dealing with the white men. Toby Tubby became their closest friend and learned everything he could about trade and the value of money.
Supplies came up the river and for a fee in barter or cash, the supplies were loaded and brought to his little trading post. The suppliers were paid, the Indians received a transport fee and everyone was happy.
Soon white settlers arrived and Covenant and his wife managed to figure a way to rent lots to them for homes and as several businesses sprang up along the top of the hill above them. The land still belonged to the Indians, Covenant leased the land and received a fee from Chief Tobo. This went well for several years as white settlers continued to pour into the land, until during a hard winter the great Chief became ill and died.
Toby Tubby became Chief of the tribe and opened up even more opportunities for the Indians. He began to operate a ferry to handle people crossing the river. He leased rich bottomland for crops that fed the Indians and whites alike. He allowed timber to be cut, roads to be built, several towns such as College Hill and Wyatte began to be laid out and settled, businesses flourished and the money earned enriched his tribe in a different way of life.
Although the Indian people adjusted to the new lifestyle of the white settlers, many left and the push of the whites seemed never ending. Chief Toby Tubby realized that the white men were there to stay and that he and his tribes days were numbered, even as they changed their way of life to embrace the whites.
John Covenant died soon after that time and Hoka was left handling the trading post, the white settlers, and much of the business of the tribe. She began to be respectfully known to the new towns people as Princess Hoka and was the friend of all, but times were changing.
In 1832 the Treaty of Pontotoc was signed. This ceded all Indian Lands to the United States Government. Chief Toby Tubby, as chief of the tribe handled the money paid to his tribe but was allowed to keep many sections to sell as he wanted or to divide it up to give to his family. Princess Hoka, as his sister, received 160 acres where the town of Oxford stands today.
In 1836 Princess Hoka let it be known that she wished to sell her parcel of land and join many of the Indians that had already left for Oklahoma. She was approached by three growing landowners and businessmen that had high hopes to have the new town named as the county seat. These men are shown on the deed that she signed with an X as John Chisolm, John Martin, and John Craig. The deed was witnessed by the new local Indian Agent and the deal was struck. She received $800 in cash, sold her trading post for another $300, packed her things and went west. In the Lafayette County deed book it says Hoka “bargained, sold, deeded, and conveyed” the land for a “consideration…of Eight Hundred Dollars,”
She was never seen again.
The town of Oxford was founded on August 9, 1837

Toby Tubby's Gold (3)

College Hill is located along what was the Chickasaw Road and lies about 3 miles northwest of downtown Oxford. This is almost exactly halfway between Oxford and Sardis Lake, which was built in the 1930’s.
Over time the Chickasaw Road had become the Sardis Road for the stagecoach. The road split at the Church here and one branch that went across the river at Wyatt was called the Memphis road, while the main road crossed the swamp and was known as the Sardis road. The third road was the Panola Road that led to the little town of Panola, later relocated to become Batesville.
Where Sardis Lake is now was once an immense swamp of towering cypress breaks with the Tallahatchie river running down the middle of it. Several small towns like Wyatt and Eaton had ferries to cross the river and to allow boats to unload supplies. These little port towns were about the only place that the remaining Indians could trade and the wild land here was so dangerous that the Indians could be mostly left undisturbed and protected by Chief Toby Tubby.
College Hill is at the split of this road in the hills before it drops off into the river bottom and was so named because a Normal School called North Mississippi College was founded here in 1830. For those of you that do not know; a normal school is basically a teachers college. The new town quickly thrived and great hopes were given to this new town and undertaking.
The roads changed, the University was established at Oxford, and the town quickly sank into obscurity. All that is left now is a large scattering of suburban homes, a closed store, and the beautiful College Hill Presbyterian Church.
Going up the shaded brick walk, I studied the large antebellum southern planter style columns and the basic square design. At one time you could tell that a large balcony had hung over the entrance in front, and as I stepped on the brick porch, I studied the two sets of old doors entering and ran my hand over the old slave brick. Touching the brick brought back a trip years ago with my grandmother who had told me that William Faulkner had married in the church. It was a good feeling that the Church was almost exactly how it was the day that the Chief’s funeral procession passed in front of it. I cracked the door and peeped in.
A voice said “Come on in.”
I replied “ Just wanted to peep in” and the preacher appeared and stepped out with me. He introduced himself as Rev. Samuel Goodwin and we shook hands. I told him who I was and asked if he knew my Aunt Marilyn. He did, which by now, did not even faze me. We talked about what an amazing woman she was, I told him that I was writing a story about Chief Toby Tubby and that I just wanted to get a feel for the area.
Rev. Goodwin smilingly asked me “Are you a treasure hunter?” I laughed and said “No, just a wanna-be writer.” He asked if there was anything he could do for me and I asked if I could walk through the cemetery behind the church. He agreed and I walked around the church and entered the graveyard.
The old graves I studied were the movers and shakers of the time. Andersons, Coles, Bufords and Bensons mixed with many other old well known families; Camps, McCalls, Millers, Snopes, Lammeys and many others, including the well-known Isom family. I took a few pics of the different style headstones and markers. There were quite a few headstones marked with the sign of the Masons. It was a really big honor to be a Mason at that time and they took it very seriously. Many graves just had a large rock for the headstone with no name or date which seemed a little strange.
I spent thirty minutes walking around the little cemetery before I headed toward the tuck; and luckily found the preacher watering his azaleas near the front door. I asked him a question that I already knew the answer to.
“Are there any Indians buried here?”
He said that he doubted it, and none of the records showed any Indian names. He said that they had their own beliefs and religion and as far as he knew, their dead were buried in mounds scattered across the county. He went into detail of how the cemetery was really divided into three parts with the old black or slave cemetery in the rear and mentioning how several Union soldiers were buried there when General Grant camped on the property during the Civil War. Making my goodbye, I started down the walk and he laughingly called after me, “If you find the gold, don’t forget to make a donation to the Church!” I waved, got in the truck and headed back to work.

Toby Tubby Preview

While researching Chief Toby Tubby I have discovered a great story and
possibly a great number of things that I should have left alone. These are a few of the things that have happened that you will read about later.
1. A beautiful Indian girl passing as white that takes charge when her father, Toby Tubby, is killed in a knife fight.
2. A very strange church service, unfathomable in that time.
3. A slave that escapes being buried alive, becomes the patriarch of one of the finest black families in Lafayette Co.
4. A beautiful curator that is threatened and her car burned.
5. A journal that gives an eyewitness account of the funeral.
6. A link to a strange and significant Indian symbol.
7. Someone does not want me to continue my research and is looking for the treasure.
8. A night out that turns to tradgedy.
9. The secrets of Thacker Mountain and the group that lives there.
10. An old Indian that actually went to the burial site as a child.
11. A terrible meeting in the woods
12. What happened at the end of my research.

Toby Tubby's Gold (2)

As with most people, my grand thought on finding the grave of the rich Indian quickly faded. Work, Life, Kids, and the real world have a habit of intruding on grand schemes and ideas. So after a couple of months, the idea was way on the back burner until I received an appraisal assignment on Coon Town Rd.
The assignment was for a little FHA style brick home near the boat landing at the end of the old road. It was what I consider a cookie-cutter job that I should be able to get the pics, info and do the walk- through in about 20 minutes. The thought of this being the beginning of my hunt for Chief Toby Tubby never entered my mind.
The Coon Town Road begins at a three way split in front of the old College Hill Church and as I turned onto the road, the thought of the destroyed historical marker and my Aunts’ words came back to me. I completed the field part of the appraisal and returned to the church, turned north for a quarter mile and stated looking for what was left of the marker.
I found the site, pulled over and went to take a closer look. All that was left was the concrete slab partially pulled out of the ground and part of the twisted metal pole that had held the square green tribute for Toby Tubby.
It had taken some work to remove the marker and it did not make sense. Drunk college students at Ole Miss might have done it, but it would have taken a lot of exertion. The concrete slab had to be at least three feet thick and a big truck would have had to be used to pull and twist the marker off. It seemed like a pretty stupid prank to me and the odds were that someone would be caught sooner or later showing it off on campus or in a dorm room.

I returned up the road and stopped at the Church. I did not know why, but I wanted to walk around it and just look. It had been at least 20 years since I had walked the grounds and the history of the land, the old legend and I think a little of missing my grandmother swept over me. I walked up the old brick path.

Toby Tubby's Gold (1)

I am not a researcher.
I am not a great history buff, even though my life is intertwined very closely with the history of the rural south, the Civil War and the generations of people that have lived and struggled here.
I am a real estate broker in a small town just south of Oxford, MS, while my father and his family are all from the Oxford area. I grew up learning all about Oxford and it’s deep and wonderful history. Growing up, my grandmother took us to all the old family homesites and gave us the history of all the people of the area. She was a Burt from out at Clear Creek and seemed to either know or to be kin to everyone in Lafayette county. My father graduated from University High School as did my Aunt Marilyn (Melly) and Uncle Jim and I loved the stories they told of growing up there, attending Ole Miss, hunting the swamps of the Tallahatchie Bottom, and all the antics my Dad would tell of his wild childhood.
I would not have paid a second thought about Chief Toby Tubby if my Aunt Melly, had not mentioned it one day when I stopped at her house for a quick cup of coffee. She is part of the Oxford Heritage Foundation and a member of the D.A.R., plus a myriad of other things as I found out later. She said that she was upset because the marker out near College Hill Church honoring the old Chief has disappeared again. It was the second time and the marker was very expensive. She doubted they had the money to keep replacing it.
Going home, I reviewed in my head the legend that I had heard about the famous Indian Chief.
Chief Toby Tubby had operated a ferry crossing the river north of Oxford near Wyatt.
He was very wealthy and even owned slaves.
When he died, the funeral procession left from near the College Hill Church up the Old Chickasaw Rd never to be seen again.
He was buried with all his possessions and the site was marked with a cedar tree planted on top. No other sign was left because they were afraid grave robbers would dig him up for his fortune.
His grave has never been located.
Not much information, but just enough for a buried treasure legend I laughed to myself, but later, the idea of finding it began to grow in my mind.