A Necromancer's Delight: A Pirate Cob (almost). Part 1.

The best collecting involves the best stories.
   As necromancer's we relish a good story-line. A coin can be like a lusty history book: full of intrigue and adventure. A relic coin -- particularly one from a 17th century shipwreck -- does not disappoint. Here I am talking about one of my first Spanish-Colonial cobs.
   Our saga begins in 1681 when a small galleon, Santa Maria de la Consolacion, left the port of Callao (Lima, Peru) packed with silver from the mines of Potosi. The ship was headed for Panama. Some 146,000 cobs, nearly 800 silver bars, plus a few gold bars were tallied on the manifest. Even more silver was likely to be hidden the hold, as smuggling was rampant to avoid royal taxes. The ship was a month behind schedule, so it sailed alone, chasing the Armada del Mar del Sur that had departed several days before. This turned out to be a tragic twist, as the ship was discovered by pirates just off the coast of Guayaquil (near present-day Ecuador).

This eight reales cob was almost captured by the English
buccaneer Bartholomew Sharpe in 1680. Instead, it sunk
with the galleon -- scuttled by its captain to avoid capture.
Can you read this cob?
Where did it come from?
When was it made?

   The English pirates were led by Bartholomew Sharpe who had been raiding Spanish ships all season. As the pirates approached the hapless Consolacion, the  Spanish captain deliberately ran the 26-gun galleon aground on a reef off of Santa Clara Island. He ordered the ship to be set ablaze. The crew attempted to swim and row small boats to the nearby island.
   As you can imagine, Sharpe was furious. He captured what crew remained and forced them to dive in shark infested waters to retrieve any treasure that had spilled from the scuttled galleon. Not much was recovered, as the sharks were fierce. The pirates subsequently executed the Spaniards. The island was henceforth known as Isla de Muerto (Dead Man's Island).
   It was remembered for a long time that a sunken treasure ship laid near Guayaquil. Old maps said so. But it was not until the 1990s that local fishermen began to discover silver cobs in the area after a fishing net had snagged on an old iron anchor. Soon after, a salvage agreement was inked with the Ecuadorians. In December 2001, Spink Auctions offered the fruits of this treasure hunt -- about 8,000 cobs were sold to bidders worldwide. And, the hunt goes on today!
   I got my piece of the action several years ago. And what a wonderful relic it is. This cob was part of the drama. This is a coin for the necromancer: Full of spirits. If you hold it close to your ear (as you would a conch shell), you can hear the mad shuffling of the crew and the cracking ribs within the hull, as the Consolacion wedged into the reef. The rush of the waves pouring over the gunwales and swallowing the ship in large bites is deafening. Even the profanities of the pirates as their longboat moved close can be discerned.
   My piece is the perfect relic for retelling the story. The shifting sands have rubbed much of the details away, but just enough remains to identify the coin. Sometimes I think it is better to have a relic that looks the part. Some detective work required to discern the features, and the more challenging, the better. A new looking cob would be boring in comparison.
   We will take a close look at what remains on this battered cob in Part 2.

Do like a Necromancer (Part 3): A Wear Set

Our challenge this week is to explore and enjoy wear patterns.
   Wear and tear is part of life. Like wrinkles on an aged face, smoothed surfaces tell you that a coin has lived. A worn coin is tingling with spirits. A mint state coin is silent.
   As collectors who are fascinated with yesterdays, we muse about the life of a circulated coin. Imagine all the fingers that have touched it until now.
   Consider a few slender dimes from the mid-nineteenth century. Once liberated from a mint bag and passed from an unnamed bank teller to a depositor, these dimes were widely dispersed. They passed from purse to cash register and back again. Shoppers fumbled to dig them from purses and pockets, and store clerks stacked them in tens at the end of the day.
   Savvy children hoped for one with open hands and forlorn eyes.
   With each cycle, the dime became thinner. The folds in Ms. Liberty's dress were softened. The shield lost its face. But the call of commerce continued. Prices rose over time. The dime was passed for a meal, then just a soda, and finally only a newspaper could be had.
   Eventually, a curious hand paused to take note. In this moment, the would-be collector caught a glimpse of his own destiny: broad rims, washed out lettering.
   As necromancer collectors, we freeze time, or so we like to think. We have discovered something marvelous. We are captivated by the wear. Story-lines swirl in our heads. And now, we are part of it: center stage.

   One way to cultivate our necromancy is to form a Wear Set. Some like to call it a "grading set" -- but we do not want to go that far. We are not doing this to learn about grading.
   Sure, you may be tempted to consult one of the many grading guidebooks that have been published, but I urge you to resist. Instead, let your eyes and fingers lead the way. There will be plenty of time to assign letters and number later -- but why would you do that?
   In the same vein, do not restrict your hunt to the preordained grading categories established by the experts. Rather, make your own discriminations based on what you see and feel in front of you. As your collection grows, you will learn how these dimes (or any coin) tend to age over time. No book can teach you this. Plus, you will also discover just how subjective the whole grading enterprise is.
   Let the hunt begin! Allow your curiosity be your guide. Just pick out some worn coins over the next year or so that appeal to you. Find some that are heavily worn -- at the precipice of oblivion. Compare them. Take in the damaged coins too. And finally, do not be in a hurry; take your time and pick the ones that speak to you.
   This is the way of the necromancer. And if you are a bit squeamish about these worn pieces, just remember this: part of being a numismatist is to appreciate how coins wear from use.

Grounders or Coins from the Dirt

A coin unearthed is called a grounder.

This cent has been "flooded" with green corrosion.
Thick debris has snagged amidst the stars and date with
a washed out area in front of the face, running to the rim.

   It possesses a certain charm. Unfortunately, this charm is obscured by our biases. If a grounder is placed in your hand at a coin club meeting, you are apt to perfunctorily examine it and pretend to be interested. After all, it is important to be polite. But after this practiced display of prosocial behavior, you quickly hand the coin back having barely given it the study it deserved.
   Too bad (for you) that you allowed the Angel of Numismatic Correctness to crush your natural inclination to be curious. An old coin is always interesting. And the fact that someone else set it aside is also interesting.
   A coin from the ground is special. Just ask an archeologist. A dug coin is worth a shovels-up celebration every time. So let's hear it: "Shovels up!"
   Too often, we inhibit our raw curiosity. Too much GABA? Too many coin experts? Too afraid to confront the unknown?
   But if you did actually look at the battered and corroded coin that was placed in your palm, you would see that grounders can stimulate our imagination in unexpected ways. Corroded metal conjures up all sorts of images.
   The corrugated fields remind you of a flood plain. Hollowed out trenches stretching to the rims, swallowing stars and letters -- this is cool. And clumps of green stuff cling to whatever landmarks remain.
   Yes, it was a flood!
   Your brain goes into over-drive trying to figure it out. Is there a pattern to the corrosion and decay. Did the waters flow this way, or that?
   Suffice to say, corrosion is the hallmark of a grounder. A coin lost in the soil is on a direct path to ruin. The earth eats coins and the people that made them. Electrons are spewing out in all directions.
   This is a saga that strikes the root of our fascination with old coins. Namely, we are enamored with objects that have outlived our forefathers (and mothers). This is why we trek out to see the ruins.
   Necromancers always take the time to study grounders -- it is our wont.

Old Sails: A French Galleon from 1656

Last April I profiled a jeton from Nuremburg with a stylized old ship (a medieval cog). The slender counting piece was from the late-1500s. Today I introduce a second ship to my fleet.
   The ship appears to be a galleon as defined by its low forecastle and stepped aftcastle. It is a fully-rigged vessel with three masts, two of them with topsails. The sails are full as the ship makes it way on a starboard tact (heading East, I imagine). The seas are choppy with a few white caps.
   The engraving is fanciful with gently sloping gunwales and billowing sails pulling the clews wide, stretching the sheets. One curious feature is the wind, personified in the clouds by a puffed face blowing to fill the sails.

Jeton with French Galleon dated 1656.

   This jeton is dated 1656 (on the reverse, not shown). It is listed in Mitchner's guidebook as 3319. The piece is 27mm across and is quite thin with flat strike. It is known in copper, brass, and silver (I have only seen the first two compositions). The legend is apt: EX FLAMINE VIRES; it translates to read: Its strength comes from the breath (or blast, or wind). The reverse (not shown) depicts a beehive -- a symbol of industry -- with the legend: MENS OMNIBVS VNA that means All of one mind.
   The jeton was issued by the Corporation of the Drapers. The Drapers were a group of cloth merchants; the corporation was akin to a guild that was well-organized and required membership.
   If you know more about this jeton, please share your comments!

   For me, this jeton is special because it depicts a ship that was sailing at the time of issue. For those who were fortunate enough to be given a newly minted piece as a gift, it represented a handsome image to study and ponder. And for the necromancer, this piece provides opportunity to muse about who owned it, passed it on, and so on. It was enjoyed. After all, paper drawings of galleons were not that common, and they certainly were not durable as keepsakes.
   My piece is worn with some corrosion but not abused. I imagine this was touch-piece for someone (several someones) for a century or more. At some point, it was set aside. It was discovered and finally ended up in a collection. But unlike money that was used first, then saved, this jeton was marvelous from the start -- a mighty galleon meant to be enjoyed.
   As for finding one of these ships for your fleet, it may take six-months to a year. It is not considered rare, so a patient collector should be able to find one on E-Bay or at a large coin show without too much difficulty. Cost will be low. As mentioned above, most of them are flatly struck and worn as touch-pieces.
   For those of you still sitting on the wharf, I recommend jumping in. Topical collecting (ship pieces, shipwrecked coins, not to exclude all the beasts that have appeared on coins and metals, or whatever) is fun and allows you to take a breather from the humdrum of dates and mints. And all of these coins were probably enjoyed as artistic. Marvelous!