The Mystery of the Lost Treasure of Beale Mystery Cache

Do you want to hear some of the real history, and mystery, of Beale?

Ah, good, good. Now listen close and don't interrupt as I have a story that will flip you out. It is part of the unknown history of Memphis.

It's a story that my daddy told me and his daddy told him. Back through the generations each father told this story to his son on day the boy turned eight.

Now way back in 1841 Beale Street was created by a man named Robertson Topp. Except it wasn't called Beale Street. Rather it was called Beale Avenue and was named after a forgotten Navy hero. Mr. Topp was a young man, only 35 at the time, and I suppose he felt that calling it an avenue rather than a street would sound more prestigious. Anyway, it was called Beale Avenue for ten years until it changed to it's current name, Beale Street, in '51.

Now, onto the important part of the story. Mr. Topp was a "mover and a shaker" and things were going well for him. By the time he turned 40 in 1847 he had become wealthy. It didn't seem to be enough for him though and he was reportedly fond of saying, "My wealth, as my appetite, knows no bounds." Seemingly consumed with thoughts of earthly treasure he expressed himself through grandiose gestures such as donating land to the City of Memphis to be used as a park with the condition that it would be named after his favorite hound, Woodrow. The city did as he asked, but after Mr. Topp's death they changed the sign and called it Hunt park.

He would also look after his children in big ways. For example, when his daughter turned fourteen he bought her a townhouse complete with a nanny and nine other servants. Oddly enough though this generosity did not extend to his own mother, Ida. When she died during the 1873 Yellow Fever Epidemic at age 89 he wouldn't even buy her a grave marker. Reportedly he stated that "if anyone wanted a sign that she had walked the earth they need look no further than him as that should be tribute enough."

As he neared decade number seven of his life Robertson Topp changed from an extravagant spender to a miser. No one knows what prompted the change as almost overnight he became a shut in at his Beale Street mansion where he lived until his death in 1878.

Officially he was one of the 5,123 yellow fever deaths that occurred that year. This is not true. He did not die of disease or of natural causes. Rather he was murdered for his wealth. The killers didn't profit though, they got nothing, zero, zilch, because Robertson Topp had been a cautious man. He had hidden his treasure.

Obviously he didn't want to leave a written record, even in code, of where he had hidden his wealth for fear that thieves would look for a document or map and end up stealing his wealth. After all times were rough and he had reason to worry.

Now he didn't want his treasure to remain hidden permanently. After all, if it were to have been lost forever he might as well have burned it or gone to the riverside and thrown it into the mighty Mississip. Since he didn't want it lost forever he hatched a plan. You see, this was just about the time that Beale Street was being paved with cobblestones. Every day for several weeks he snuck out of his mansion during the early morning hours with a hammer and chisel and etched numbers into some of the cobblestones. Since he spread the numbers over the length of Beale Street he marked a starting point for his puzzle by marking an "X" near the intersection of Beale and Second. He thought that by telling his sons the story and telling them of the hidden numbers they, or at the very least one of their sons, would be able to figure out where his treasure was hidden and be able to bring it back into the family From all accounts his confidence was misplaced.