A piece that needs to be deciphered demands attention. It requires book knowledge and applied study. This is one of the reasons that die varieties and die states are so captivating. Just ask early U.S. copper collectors -- pupils dilate and the frontal lobes engage whenever a new die crack, cud, or better yet, over-punched letter is discovered. Without a doubt, a coin that requires energy to make sense of is more exciting.
The cob salvaged from the Consolacion discussed last week elicits this excitement.
This piece looks the part, despite harsh cleaning. It was probably part of a clump of cobs melded together by sand and sea, so it was washed. Still, make no mistake, it looks like a relic. It shouts out: "I go with the rusted bits of metal that once held the ship together."
The Necromancer wants relics to look the part. It is not just fashion; it is what gives a piece its authority.
Obverse always has the King's name. |
A the top we see a crown with an Arabic numeral 8 at the lower center of the base. This 8 tells us that this was an eight reales piece: a piece-of-eight as they say. Say it again: a piece-of-eight! How cool is that!
The Cross of Jerusalem signifies the union of church and state; this cross can be found on all Peruvian cobs after 1652 (a simpler cross without the bar on each end predated this style and goes back to the 1570s). The castles and lions in the quadrants represent the kingdom of Castile and Leon; this is the domain of Queen Isabel who was primarily responsible for funding the new world adventures of the conquistadors.
Now we need to squint. Once focused, you can make out the letter P to the left of the cross. This P stands for Peru (some say that it stands for Potosi; others argue that it only stands for Potosi when the Lima mint reopened in 1685). No matter, the P tells us that the cob comes from Potosi, a city high in the Andes, at the foot of a mountain of silver. This was where the cob was hand-hammered from a rough flan cut to the proper weight with heavy shears.
If you squint some more, you can see the V on the right side of the cross -- yes, it is faint. This V is the assayer mark. The assayer was responsible for the weight and fineness of the cob. In this case, V stands for Pedro de Villar; he was the assayer at Potosi from 1679 to 1684.
Reverse shows the pillar and waves design. |
The upright pillars and horizontal lines produce a tic-tac-toe design. We can see the mint mark P in the upper left and lower right spots, whereas the assayer mark V is in the opposite corners. The numeral 8 sits in the upper central position. All this redundant info was placed in the design to make sure that all cobs could be identified by mint and assayer. Note that this cob is double struck on the right lower quadrant.
Finally, we have the last two digits of the date. In the lower center position we can easily make out the 7. There is a second digit which looks to be a 9 -- of course, we know it is since the assayer started his work in 1679. Only the last two digits fit in this space (after 1700, you often see three digits). Here is another little secret: Potosi cobs after 1652 always show a rising wave in the center, just below the date.
So there you have it. A pirate cob (almost) chock full of information. Imagine showing this cob to a friend and telling the story. Folks just light up. Coins do not get any better than this! I would take this cob over a brilliant Franklin half, Morgan dollar, or even a Double Eagle, any day of the week!
Hold this one to your ear and hear it roar! It is full of spirits: A necromancer's delight.