Loving the Unloved: Coins for Memorial Day

Memorial Day is upon us.

   I am going to watch my father march in a small town parade with the other Vets. He was career Navy. I am proud to watch the old timers from the curb.

   

In Loving the Unloved, we contemplate some old war relics. Some Vets used these bits. I wonder who they were? No matter. The relics are potent either way.

   A battlefield relic is a real piece of the action. It was there. These rusty bits are part of history … they are not just old, but instrumental. Relics like this should be in the parade, not on the curb.

   I cannot think of a pair of cents that are more evocative.

   Relic coins wear their scraggy patina with pride. Old timers. Each pit, each scratch, each lamination – all earned and honest. These coins have authority.

  

Nowadays, too many collectors worry about authenticity. Was the coin dipped? Is the toning right? Or left? Yuk, Yuk. Silly stuff.

   The power – the parade, if you will – is about authority. Loving the Unloved is not a rebel thing; it is not meant to rile your fellows; it is not madness. It is reverence for those who came before, who struggled, big hero or not.

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!

Gold Liberty Head Dime: More Disappointment than its Worth

Once again the dark cloud of disappointment has cast a shadow on coin collectors across the nation. Angry letters fill the editorial pages of Coin World and other periodicals.
   "I'll never buy from the mint again!"
   "It is unfair!"
   "The dealers are crooks!"
   Yes, I have heard it all before. Such misery. And anger.
   The new Winged Liberty Gold Dime sold out in less than 45 minutes on April twenty-first; all 125,000 pieces gone! The household ordering limit was ten. And, as you can imagine, many coin hogs (collectors and dealers alike) ordered the limit.
   Of course, they were not really gone in 45 minutes, as EBay sellers were offering them straight-away the next day (at twice the issue price of $205).
   So why the upset? This is what most folks wanted - a rare issue. Exciting isn't it!? But here's the thing about rarity: not everyone can have one. You have to be lucky. Lucky folks have found 1909-S VDBs in circulation. Lucky folks will receive a gold dime in the mail at issue price.
   The rest of us will have to pay premium. That's life. Go buy one if you want one.

Remember when?

   Now what is it about this gold dime? Part of it is nostalgia. The baby-boomers are retiring and looking back: they are chasing after retro Mustangs and gold "Mercury" dimes. Part of it is art. The modernists are following the mint playbook: they are chasing after MS-70 pieces in order to boast about their connoisseurship. And finally, part it is speculation. The quick-buck guys are fattening their wallets.
   All three groups got what they wanted. Well, some of them anyway.
   That is how the world works. You can stomp your feet if you want to. Yell at the dog. Kick something. Babies!
   A couple of weeks ago I mentioned that a letter writer opined that the mint should produce some rarities for collectors (remember the "double beaks"). Well, you got your wish.
   No one should be angry about what happened on April twenty-first. Nothing unusual happened. Nothing unfair happened. Rare coins -- produced that way or not -- are just that. Not everyone can have one.
   But this necromancer has a suggestion.
   Forget the gold dime. Get the real thing! Go out and get some real "Mercury" dimes. They are better struck for one thing. Also, they were part of the action. Old dimes have stories. If you want to soothe your nostalgia, a old dime will take you there.