See how they clamor for Shipwrecked Cobs

A big auction ended yesterday.
   The pounding of the hammer announced record prices paid for relics fished from Spanish Galleons and other Old Sails. Then, as suddenly as it started, the block fell silent. Hundreds of cobs had been dispersed and thousands of dollars spent.
   I wonder: Who are these people? I am one of them, so I guess a few necromancers are in the pool. But what about the rest? I am sure there were physicians, brokers, shopkeepers, teachers ... and so on. This is not what I'm talking about, however.
   What is the mindset that we share?
   Put bluntly, what madness compels folks to bid hundreds of dollars to take home a corroded, somewhat porous, sea-washed cob? And the frenzied bidding? Some pieces sparked contests that defied any rational valuations. Like beasts tearing at a carcass -- it was a rare chance to eat.

The real thing: Shipwrecked 1652 one real from Potosi.

   Do you know how many Big Macs your could buy with a thousand dollars? That's food for a month. But no! I must have this cob instead! And, many cobs went for a grand or more. It just seems like a normal thing. If an Alien was watching us, what would they think?
   In this light, collecting must appear irrational by all measures. And non-adaptive too (if you accept a Darwinian viewpoint) -- you cannot eat cobs.
   But even with sound reality-testing, the pull of possessing something from the distant past with a tragic history is captivating. Some of use cannot resist. We have seen enough movies to imagine the shipwreck as it happened. Go ahead and close your eyes: see the planking split from the hull, see the galleon come apart, feel the coral reefs penetrate. Yes, I see it! 
 
   The necromancer inside me believes that cobs from shipwrecks offer a direct path to what happened so long ago. Sure, cobs fascinate us with their oldness. But there's more. Shipwrecked pieces are amulets for having survived the storm.
   They have horrific stories. And, we are drawn to this action.
   But we are safe.
   Oddly enough, cobs are also romantic in a hard -- Robert Mitchum -- way.
   They are true: bold and unadulterated hunks of silver without pretentiousness.
   Cobs are not graded or slabbed. They are too belligerent for that. And they are too sharp for the connoisseur's tender, gloved fingers.
   Go slab a Morgan. Caress your gold dime with felt fingertips. But roll up your sleeves, if you plan to handle a cob.

Try this: Hold a cob in your hand (yes, wrap your fist around it) and feel its edges. Let it dig into your palm. Note how the silver warms in your grasp. This is what wealth felt like in the seventeenth century. This is how a pirate felt when he (or she) reached into the treasure chest to inspect the prize.
   So let's get to it. You can start small. And so, I show you a rugged one real from the Jesus Maria de la Limpia Concepcion that sank off the coast of Ecuador in 1654. It is just a sliver, but it has everything you want in a cob -- more on that later
.

Collecting Jamestown: Part 7. Witch Bottle? Magic Coins?

Yesterday was Jamestown Day: May 14th.

Jamestown on a cloudy Friday the 13th.

   I  missed it, but I was there for pre-Jamestown Day. Instead of beating off the crowds, I arrived in the early morning of May 13th -- I was the only one in the fort (once again). But the archeologists were already at work: In the cellar & at the Archaearium.
   In the cellar, three of them were gently removing dirt from one of the post molds. They mentioned that "some coins" had been found recently, but they were not the finders, so no details yet.
   The cellar is located just outside the 1608 extension, along the northeast corner. A well is located inside the structure, but "few artifacts" were mentioned. I detected a sigh of
disappointment. But a piece of wood with copper in it was found while I was there (what is it?).
   One of the archeologists ventured to say that the cellar might be part of "a blockhouse."
   Inside the Archaearium, three more archeologists (they were everywhere!) were discussing the tobacco pipes. They were kind to allow me to slip in some questions.
   Specifically, I was wondering about the "witch bottle" that was found in the "Factory." Now let's be clear: no one is saying it is definitely a witch bottle, but Kelso suggested it might be in his book. As for the field reports, it was only described as a broken case bottle that might have contained some quartz pebbles (an odd find to be sure).
   The bottle was found at the foot of the steps in a "lobby area" of the Factory. This placement is revealing, as it protects the entrance and is placed next to an old hearth (another entrance -- for witches only).

Case Bottle from Jamestown

   Want to know more? Check the 2000-2006 Interim Reports (p.42). As a necromancer, I am enthralled with all things witches. AND, there are some bent and cut coins from Jamestown that suggest that some of the settlers had appealed to medieval church magic for protection.
   Witches in Jamestown! Are you surprised? You should not be. After all, James I authored Daemonologie in 1597 -- so witches were about and were feared. Closer to home (Jamestown that is) William Strachey wrote of the Powhatans that their "chief god they worship is no other indeed than the devil ...." Also, Reverend Alexander Whitaker noted that "there be great witches among" the Indians. There are many such reports of demonic forces in Virginia.
   Of note, the "witches" of Jamestown were outside the fort, as opposed to the many "witches" in New England who were more likely to be your neighbors.
   I might have a witch living down the street ... not sure of this, but my milk did sour last week.
   So back to Jamestown. I did not see the actual witch bottle found. But I include an image of a case bottle from Jamestown.
   Of note, only three other "Witch Bottles" have been found the US: two in PA and one in MD (of course, many have been found in England). I plan to visit the witch bottle
in MD and will report on it. As for the bent and cut coins: More on that later!