Restoring a 1920s Retractable Razor Strop

Back when straight razors were still the predominant method for carrying out the daily shave, a wide variety of accessories and nicknacks were invented to go along with them.

Just like how nowadays you have suction-cup stands for your smartphones, or bendy-bendy-all-adjustable tripods and selfie-sticks for all your photographic social-media needs, or how companies are now trying to sell you all kinds of groomers, trimmers and motorised hedgeclippers to trim literally every part of your body that you can reach (and even some which you probably can’t!), back at the turn of the 20th century, all kinds of manufacturers were cranking out an equally wide variety of gizmos that claimed to make your grooming routine oh-so-much-easier!

From specialist sharpening stones to razor-kits, reusable blades and shaving sticks, all kinds of accessories were available from any number of magazines, catalogs and specialist suppliers. One of the most common accessories – especially popular among the well-groomed traveling gentlemen of the world – was the retractable razor strop.

Strops – the long, wide strips of leather used to smooth off and realign the edges of the blades on cutthroat razors – had to be as smooth and as flat as possible. Folding, bending or creasing the strop in any way while traveling would cause excessive wrinkles, kinks or deformity to the leather, which would render it useless as a strop. Because strops had to be kept smooth and flat, they could take up a lot of space when traveling. However – there was nothing against rolling up a strop – simply rolling a strop up wouldn’t cause creases or fold-lines that a razor-blade could trip over – which made it the ideal way to package a strop small enough to the portable, without compromising its structural integrity.

The only thing was – there had to be a way to easily roll and unroll the strop each time it was used. In the end, a simple coiled-spring retractable mechanism was created, and housed inside a metal barrel or casing. One end of the strop was attached to the spring-barrel inside the casing, and the other end of the strop trailed out of the mouth of the casing. The remaining leather was coiled up inside the casing, and wrapped around the barrel. Pulling the strop out for use would cause the spring inside the casing to tighten up, and letting go of the strop would make the spring relax, spinning backwards and pulling the strop back inside the storage case.

Simple, and effective.

So effective that several of these retractable strops were manufactured and sold to the public! What had once been a strip of leather over a foot in length and two to three inches in width, was now little more than a rolled-up leather strap, tucked into a metal casing smaller than a soda-can! So simple, so robust, and so convenient!

The majority of these retractable razor strops were housed in cases made of nickel-silver, or silver-plated pewter, or some other variety of cheap, white metal, presumably to keep costs down. The one which I bought online differs from all these greatly, in that the outer casing is made entirely of sterling silver – and has all the hallmarks to prove it!

I have seen several of the silver-plated ones, but never one which was made of solid sterling silver before. After winning it at auction

Pulling Apart the Strop

The original leather that comprised the main component of the strop was completely un-salvageable. It was dry, cracked, torn, brittle and covered in grime. No amount of beeswax and polishing was ever going to restore it.

The first step was to remove this. To do that, I unscrewed the strop-casing, starting with the large bolt that goes right through the body of the casing. After unscrewing it, I pulled it out, and broke the casing open into its three main components: The barrel, and the two end-discs.

Inside the barrel was the strop, and the winding cylinder, all held together by two end-caps.

The strop with the new leather.

I pulled these out and then removed the spring that activated the recoil-mechanism. The final step was to remove the actual leather from inside the cylinder. The leather is simply held in place by friction, and three triangular claws that hold the leather in place. I ended up just cutting the leather out using my pocketknife and pulling it out with tweezers.

I used the original leather as a template, from which to cut a strip of fresh leather of the same dimensions, from some scrap leather of the same thickness and similar finish.

The next step was to fit this into the winding cylinder, and fit the three claws in place, to stop the leather sliding out. After that, the spring was put back inside, the end-caps slid on, and then the leather was simply rolled up around the cylinder.

After that, the cylinder, spring and leather were dropped into the barrel, and the end-discs were fitted back on. I fed some of the leather out of the mouth of the barrel, and then started screwing the bolt back on. This proved to be surprisingly tricky and took a few tries to get right – but the threads finally meshed and the whole thing was screwed back together.

The final step was to cut and sew a new pull-strap to put onto the end of the strop, polish up the metal to remove the worst of the tarnish, and then hang it up in my bathroom. All done!

The hallmarks on the silver casing reveal that the strop was made in Birmingham, in 1924. For something that’s nearly 100 years old, it works surprisingly well!

The spring is perhaps not as elastic as it once was, but the results speak for themselves…

 

Antique Sterling Silver School Cufflinks

You find the strangest things on the internet.

I stumbled across these on an online auction site while bidding on some antique silverware. I’d never seen anything like them before, they were in very good condition for their age, and the price seemed reasonable, so I bid on them. I was very excited to win them and add them to my trove of treasures, and they now form part of my collection of antique cufflinks!

The silver cufflinks with the Scotch coat of arms on the front.

These antique ‘torpedo-style’ chained cufflinks, typical of the 1920s and 30s, are sterling silver with blue enamel on the front.

Normally, I don’t collect silver cufflinks, but I made an exception for these, because the face of the cufflinks depicts the crest of Scotch College, in Melbourne – my old highschool. Since I went there for so long, I decided that it’d be a nice little touch to buy them as a memento of my school-days.

The Coat of Arms on the Cufflinks

The coat of arms on the cufflinks is for Scotch College, a private boys’ school in Melbourne. Established in 1851, it’s the oldest school in the state, and, I think something like the…third oldest…school in the entire country.

The coat of arms is quartered by the Scottish Cross of St. Andrew on a background of blue. The quarters depict the Royal Crown representing Australia’s links to the British Empire, the Torch of Enlightenment and Education, the Southern Cross constellation, the Olympiad rowboat with its sails furled to indicate determination, and the Burning Bush (above the crown) to symbolise the school’s religious background.

The blue banner at the top has the Latin motto “DEO – PATRIAE – LITTERIS” (For God, for Country, for Letters). When the school was founded in 1851, the original motto was “DEO et LITTERIS” (“God and Learning”). This was ‘updated’ in 1914 with the start of the First World War, when the motto was changed to the current version, with the addition of “PATRIAE” during such a momentous time in international history.

The complete coat of arms, with the three-word motto and the quartered shield and bush were finally joined together and became the new school coat of arms in 1924.

What is ‘DAMMAN’S’?

Damman’s Tobacconists and Jewelers. Cnr Swanston & Collins Streets, Melbourne. 1954. (Image from SLV)

“Damman’s” was the name of a tobacconist’s shop and jeweler’s on the corner of Collins Street and Swanston street in Melbourne. Established in 1854, at the height of the Melbourne gold-mining boom, the shop lasted for at least 100 years, and was operated by at least two generations of the Damman family. Doing bulk custom-orders for specialised clients (such as these cufflinks for the school) must’ve been a big part of their business, because these aren’t the only Damman’s branded Scotch-related memorabilia which I have in my collection.

How old are these Cufflinks?

My guess is that they were made between the mid-1920s to the late 1930s. There’s a number of clues and indicators that point towards this.

The back of the cufflinks, showing the ‘torpedo’ toggles and the chain links.

First, the school coat of arms was adopted in 1924. So they can’t be any older than that. Second, I know that Damman’s was still producing Scotch-badged memorabilia in the mid-1930s (the cigarette lighter in my collection is from 1932). Thirdly, the cufflinks are chained cufflinks – very common in the Victorian era and the early 20th century…but which started to decline heavily in popularity in the decades after the Second World War.

Such cufflinks would have been unlikely to have been made during the war, and look too old-fashioned for postwar, 1950s construction, leaving a small window of about 15 years in which they could’ve been manufactured.

Does the School Still Sell Stuff like This?

Most definitely! Mugs, shot-glasses, tea-towels, books, clothing, and – yes, even cufflinks – are still sold by the school. They’re purchased from the school’s campus shop, or are offered to students for purchase as part of their graduation-memorabilia package, when they leave school at the age of eighteen.

 

Antique Russian Niello Silver Cigarette Case (Moscow, 1873)

As my blog hits its 9th anniversary (yeah that’s right, the end of October, 2018, is its NINTH year!), I decided to post about something a little different. And this year, the little different thing is something I picked up at my local market – the first time I visited the market after getting home from a recent overseas holiday.

Finding stuff at flea-markets is very hit-and-miss. Sometimes you can find amazing stuff for great prices…and sometimes all you discover is overpriced junk or cheap trash that really makes you wonder why you bothered to wake up so damn early in the first place!

Anyway, the posting for this anniversary is the beautiful, quirky little silver case or box which I picked up this week just gone. Originally a cigarette case, I decided to repurpose it for holding my peppermints – a function for which it is surprisingly well-suited! So what is this item, and what’s its history?

So, what Is It?

I bought this beautiful silver cigarette or cigarillo case at my local Sunday flea-market. It had no dents, no scratches, marks, scrapes or any other major damage. There was some loss to the decorations applied to the silver surface of the box, but was about it! The catch and spring were good and strong, the hinges were in excellent condition, and the hallmarks were sharp and crisp. A bit of haggling and arm-twisting saw a decent discount, and I became the proud owner of what is now – my second piece of Romanov-era Russian silverware!

Measuring approximately 3.5, maybe 4 inches across, and about 2 inches wide, this cute little Russian cigarette case just jumped out at me because of its distinctive decorations, which I’ll go into more detail later on. The four square little tabs or hooks on the inside of the case (for holding the straps that kept the cigarettes or cigarillos in place when the case was opened) are still there, and replacing the strap should be pretty easy, if anyone ever decides to!

The Hallmarks

As with most antique European silverware, this piece comes with hallmarks. The Russian hallmarking system is very similar to other major European hallmarking systems, so in that respect it’s pretty easy to read. It differs in that they sometimes use the Russian or Cyrillic alphabet, instead of the more conventional Roman alphabet which is common elsewhere, but still – if you know what you’re looking at, the marks are pretty easy to read.

The case came with two sets of hallmarks – one on each half of the case. As with most European hallmarking systems, the Russian layout comes with four hallmarks:

The date-mark, the purity mark, the maker’s mark, and the assay mark.

The date-mark tells you when the piece was assayed.

The purity mark tells you what purity the silver is (how much silver and how much copper is in the alloy).

The maker’s mark tells you who made the piece.

The assay mark tells you where it was assayed, and – almost unique to Russian silver – the name of the assay-master of the office where it was certified.

Part of the hallmarks. The date is ‘1873’, ’84’ is the zolotnik purity standard and the symbol at the end is the assay-mark for Moscow, Russia.

The marks on this case are the two Cyrillic letters which are the maker’s initials. This is followed by the double-mark of assay-master, and date-mark stacked on top of each other. In this case, the assay master is Veniamin Vasilyevich Savinsky, and the date of assay is 1873.

The next mark along is [84], which refers to ’84 Zolotnik’, the Russian system of grading silver-purity. A zolotnik was an old Russian coin. The name was recycled to be used as the name for the silver-grading system in the 1700s (it’s like saying that “$50.00” = 95% silver, and “$40.00” = 80% silver, etc).

In this case, ’84 Zolotnik’ = 87.5% silver purity.

The final mark is the assay-mark for the city of Moscow. Cities with assay-halls existed throughout the Russian empire, including in Kiev in the Ukraine, and of course – St. Petersburg, where the famous House of Faberge, jewelers to the Romanov Court, had their headquarters.

Niello Decoration

When it comes to antique silverware, there are many, many different types of decorating: Repousse, engraving, chasing, cloisonne, enameling…and niello. If you’ve never heard of niello (“n’yellow”), then that’s probably not too surprising, since it’s not really that common these days as a decorative technique.

So what is ‘niello’?

Niello is a fine powder or paste made up of crushed sulphur and silver, with copper or in the past – lead – added to it. Ground into dust, the powder (or sometimes, paste) is applied to engraved decorations on a piece of silverware. The piece of silver, with the niello powder applied to it, is then heated. The powder softens, melts and runs into the grooves of the engraving or any other areas hollowed out by decorating tools. When it cools, the powder hardens and is baked onto the silver underneath. It’s like a crude form of enameling.

After polishing, the applied niello turns a distinctive black or midnight-blue colour. In this way, the decorated piece of silverware takes on a contrasting two-tone dark-light or ‘black-white’ appearance, with the niello’d areas turning black or midnight-blue, and the non-applied areas retaining their silvery sheen.

The underside of the case.

Niello as a decorative technique has been around for centuries. It dates back, with stops and starts, to at least the Ancient Romans and examples of nielloware have been found in various metals (brass, bronze, copper, silver, gold etc) for thousands of years. Famous Roman author, Pliny the Younger, who gained everlasting fame for his eyewitness accounts of the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79AD, left a recipe for creating niello powder, which includes using silver sulphide, copper and crushed silver powder.

Niello reached a peak in the Medieval and Renaissance eras around the 1200s-1500s, lasting into the Early-Modern era of the 1600s up to 1800. A person who was competent in doing niello decorations was called a niellist.

Goldsmiths, silversmiths, engravers and niellists were important figures in the 1400s and 1500s – as workers of fine metal, they had the skills to engrave, carve and shape the pieces of type required to cast the hundreds of little blocks required for the new movable-type printing-press which came on the scene starting in the 1450s.

Russian Nielloware

Niello allowed for creativity in decoration, but it had one major drawback – just like the Ford Model T – it only came in black!…or very very very dark blue…if you angled the piece against the light…just right. Because of this, in most countries, niello started losing out in favour against other decorative techniques such as guilloche, or engine-turning, and enameling. For one thing, enameling could be transparent, and it came in all kinds of colours, patterns and styles.

While most countries in the 1800s started switching over to enamel decoration on silverware – France, Britain and most other European countries in particular, Russia held onto niello and Russian silverware is famous for its considerable use of niello decoration at a time when most silversmiths in other European countries had abandoned it for much more versatile enameling.

Niello was applied to all kinds of things by Russian silversmiths and goldsmiths. Pocketwatches, card-cases, boxes, cigarette cases, spoons, napkin-rings and especially – jewelry.

Closing Thoughts

Admittedly, niello has never REALLY been my thing. I didn’t really buy this piece because it was niello. I bought it more because of the colour, the pattern, the condition, and the fact that the case was made in Imperial Russia! I don’t know a great deal about antique Russian silver, so this is a bit of a learning experience for me. This brings my collection of antique Russian silverware up to the heady number of…

…two!

Two is a collection…right?

My other piece of antique tsarist Russian silver. This beaker was also assayed in Moscow, but back in about 1855.

Either way, I’m glad to have it, and glad to share it, and its history, with the world!

 

Sterling Silver “Seal-Top” Personal Spoon

The world we inhabit in the 21st century moves so fast and changes in everything from technology to social acceptability to science and our understanding of the world and life itself happen so swiftly that it’s easy to forget just how unchanging and how slow the pace of life used to be. And I was recently reminded of just that, when I picked up a curious piece of silver while mosying around at my local flea-market on a cold, blustery day, with half the stalls empty, because people were scared of the possibility of rain.

I stopped at one of the regular stalls and perused the array of nicknacks under the glass display case, and my eye was drawn to four spoons, each one slightly different. Three of them were the rather bog-standard silver ‘apostle’ or ‘saint’ spoons – silver souvenir pieces designed as trinkets for the tourist trade in some far off country. However, one spoon in particular, caught my eye, mostly because it was so unusual. It was both decorative, but also surprisingly plain. Just the sheer design of it told me that this was something different, even as far as spoons went.

To say that the spoon was different was putting it mildly. It had a very large, circular bowl, a very thin, hexagonal handle, and a strangely shaped head. It wasn’t flat or round or anything, but shaped like an upside-down wax seal. When I picked up the spoon and examined the end of the handle, I noticed it had a series of dots on it, which formed letters, and a date: 1629.

At first, I got really excited, but when I asked the price, which was surprisingly cheap, I realised that it couldn’t possibly be nearly 400 years old! But perhaps it was still silver?

I flipped the spoon over to have a look. Stamped on the handle, just behind the bowl, was a series of English hallmarks, which said the spoon was made in Sheffield, in 1926, by the famed silver firm of Mappin & Webb (a company founded in the 1700s, and still operating today!).

OK, s it wasn’t a 17th century spoon, but it was still silver, and it was still made by a famous company! After walking around the market two or three times, I decided that I wanted it, if for no other reason than the novelty factor.

So What’s so Special about this Spoon, anyway?

What you’re looking at here is a reproduction, in sterling silver, of a spoon called a ‘seal-top’ spoon, a type that was popular in Britain and Europe in the 1500s, all the way up to the mid-1600s. It’s characterised by a wide, round bowl, and a long, thin handle. It gets its name from the ‘seal’ at the end of the shaft, a popular design choice of the day (other similar spoons came with figures of animals or religious figures on their ends).

Such decorative features were usually just that – decorative. But not in the case of seal-tops. These actually served a purpose…and it wasn’t so that you could seal thank-you notes with them after dinner, either! To understand why they were so common, one needs to understand a bit about the history of cutlery (yes, cutlery has history, just like everything else).

The Deal with the Seal

The purpose the pretty, flat circular disc at the top of the seal-top spoon was to serve as a seal. Or more specifically, as a sign or identifier (which is what seals are, anyway). The purpose of this disc was so that the spoon’s owner would have somewhere convenient and tasteful to engrave their initials, name, or special date, into the spoon.

Why?

Well so that the spoon could be identified as theirs, duh!

But why on earth would that be the case? Surely people in the 1500s had as many spoons as we do now, right?

Actually, no they didn’t. And this is where the history-bit comes in.

A Brief History of the Spoon

Since the beginning of time, mankind has tried to find a way of delivering food to his mouth. This was usually done with the hands. Which was fine…if the food could be handled. If it couldn’t, then something else needed to be used in order to deliver sustenance to the body. For a long time, this was the knife. A sharp blade could be used to pierce meat, fish, vegetables and fruit and pick it up and eat it. A knife could also be used to slice and cut food into more manageable pieces.

But you can’t eat everything with a knife. What about peas? Or rice? Or soup?

To get over this shortcoming of the humble blade, people started crafting out a device which could scoop things up to bring them to the mouth for eating. Originally, such devices were whatever could be found in nature – shells and hollowed pieces of wood, for example. Eventually, the idea came about that if you put a handle on this scoopy-thing, you could use it to dig around in hot stews and soups without getting your fingers burned, or losing your scoop if it slipped out of your fingers.

The first spoons were born!

Early spoons were pretty crude. They were usually just carved out of wood, or bone, or were made from clay. You ever tried carving or shaping a spoon by hand, from scratch?

Yeah. Imagine how long that takes. Imagine how fiddly it is to make one. Imagine how frustrated you’ll be when you’ve snapped it in half, and you can’t eat again until you’ve carved yourself another one. Imagine how delicate and fragile they are and how easily they can be lost, stolen or broken!

This is precisely why for much of history, if you owned any type of eating utensil, it was a spoon, and it’s also why most people did not own more than one. They were useful and versatile, but also fragile and tricky to make. That said, by the Middle Ages, it was common for everyone to eat with spoons, and it became very common for people to have their own personal spoons. There was no such thing as having a multitude of spoons lying around, just in case you wanted to eat something – no! You had your own personal spoon that you ate things with.

This became so ingrained that if you went anywhere – to the local pub, to a friend’s house for dinner, to the lord’s manor for a grand feast or if you traveled overseas or cross-country – you never took it for granted that the place you were going to had spare spoons lying around – there was absolutely no guarantee that there would be!

Because of this culture, ownership of personal cutlery sets (‘trousses’) became very common. In both Europe and in Asia, such sets were manufactured. They differed slightly from place to place (Asian sets had a spoon, knife and chopsticks, a European one would’ve had a spoon and knife). Again, to ensure that everyone knew which set belonged to which person, it was possible to personalise your own specific set to your taste and desire.

“Being Born with a Silver Spoon in your Mouth”

We’ve all heard this expression. But what does it mean? Where does it come from? How did it come to be?

As I’ve said – for much of history, it was common for people to own their own personal spoons, sets of chopsticks, knives or other eating utensils that they carried with them, or used when they needed to eat. This became such a part of life that it became common for families to gift sets or pieces of cutlery to other family-members, specifically, to newborn infants. Chances were, the spoon the child was given at birth would be the one that they used for the rest of their lives!

Because of this, spoons had to be made of something more durable than wood or clay or porcelain. Where possible, they were made of metal. Usually, this was bronze, pewter, and maybe later on, brass. But one particular type of metal was always favoured – good old-fashioned silver!

Why Were Spoons made of Silver?

Spoons were made of silver because in times past, silver was a very important metal – far moreso than it is today. Silver was seen not only as a statement of wealth, it was also seen as a store of wealth – often, the grade of silver permissible in a particular country was the same grade that was used in the country’s coinage. This meant that in hard times, any silverware you owned could be melted down and stamped into coins, and in times of great wealth, coins could be melted down and made into silverware! This was a perfectly legal process – all you had to do was go through the right channels and it was done!

Because of this, families which wanted to be financially secure owned as much silverware as possible. That’s why you see things like silver candlesticks, silver plates, silver cups, bowls, silver trays, teapots, and of course – silver spoons.

But in an age when silver was very expensive, obviously, only the richest people (usually royalty, nobility and the wealthy mercantile classes) could afford to do this. To have something as small and as trivial as a spoon be made of silver was therefore seen as a sign of wealth and status, especially if your family was rich enough to have such a spoon made for you before you were even born!

This is how the expression ‘to be born with a silver spoon’ came to be, and why it became synonymous with being born into riches and money.

 

1783 “El Cazador” Shipwreck Piece of Eight

While chatting to an acquaintance-stallholder at the local flea-market, I was approached by her friend who wanted to know if I was interested in buying a coin. I’d met this fellow a couple of times before and we’d always had fascinating conversations about antiques, silverware and coins, and so I agreed to have a look at whatever it was he was willing to show me. He took a badly cracked and chipped coin-case out of a plastic bag he had with him, and presented me with a very, very, VERY worn and battered Spanish Piece of Eight encapsulated therein.

To say that the coin was in bad condition was putting it mildly. The surface was so pitted and scratched and the edges were so worn and chipped that it looked like someone had tried to sandblast it or something. And in a way, that’s exactly what had happened!

The damaged coin-case, bearing serial #3498007-073, said that the coin was from the “El Cazador” shipwreck of 1784. At once, I was interested – I’ve never owned any real shipwrecked treasure before! We haggled back and forth and finally settled on a price that I was comfortable with, and I added another piece of eight to my collection…which now numbers five pieces! (Only three more to go! Haha!!).

I decided to remove the coin from the case and add it to my collection, but I also decided to keep the case (damaged as it is) as proof of provenance, should I ever need it in the future.

So What Is This Coin and What Makes it Special?

The coin in question is a 1783 Spanish Dollar, also called an 8 Reales or Peso de Ocho coin. To most people, it goes by a far more common name, however.

The Piece of Eight.

What makes this coin stand out from other pieces of eight is that it’s a shipwreck coin. That’s why it’s in such terrible condition – it’d spent two hundred years at the bottom of the ocean! And that sort of treatment has caused the coin to take on a particular patina and toning which is unique to shipwreck coinage, and that’s what makes it more desirable and more interesting than other coins.

Even without the case, would it still be identifiable as shipwreck treasure?

Oh yeah, sure! Yes, coins like these are faked, but there are ways of telling genuine ones. Mostly, what you’re looking for are genuine signs of aging. Natural wear, grime and toning/patina which have built up over the coin over the course of hundreds of years. This is something that you cannot replicate on a fake coin (or at least, not easily). About the only way you can is to make a copy of an original shipwreck coin by making a casting of it. But that won’t work because the accumulated encrustations on the real coin would show up as metal on the fake one – which obviously wouldn’t happen if the coin had really spent the better part of two or three centuries underwater.

The blackened areas on the coin are the result of salt corrosion and discolouration from 200 years spent at the bottom of the Mexican Gulf. Even if you tried to polish this, you’d never be able to move those spots entirely, so I haven’t bothered to try.

Determining whether a coin is real or fake is a matter of close examination, the balance of probabilities, and understanding what you’re looking at, how it was made, and how metal ages over time. It’s something gained through experience and careful study.

What is “El Cazador” and what happened to it?

El Cazador (“The Hunter” in Spanish) was an 18th century warship (specifically, a brig of war), which was commissioned by the reigning king of Spain (at the time, Charles III), to deliver several tons of silver coinage from mints based in Spanish Mexico, to the capital city of Spanish Louisiana (New Orleans) in 1784. At the time, the United States was still limited to the eastern coastline and much of the Americna interior was still divided up between the French and the Spanish.

Paper currency and promissory notes being used in Spanish North America at the time were heavily prone to counterfeiting and forgery. This led to a lack of confidence in such currency, as a result, it meant that soldiers and sailors living in New Orleans at the time refused to accept it as payment since there was no guarantee that the notes were actually worth anything!

It was to prevent a complete financial meltdown that El Cazador was chartered to make this vital mission, and to restore the colony’s faith in Spanish currency, by replacing flimsy paper notes, not worth anything, with cold, hard cash that could be trusted!

The bust of King Charles III of Spain and the year “1783”. The heavily pitted and worn-down surface is the result of centuries of sand grinding against the metal as it was washed over it over and over again by the action of waves and currents. The coin was essentially sandblasted for two hundred years, which also wore down the edges of the coin, which is why they look so irregular.

To achieve this goal, the El Cazador sailed from Spain to the Mexican port city of Veracruz, where it was loaded with the silver which it would then transport to Louisiana, departing from Spain on the 20th of October, 1783, and arriving in Mexico three months later. Here, the ship was loaded with the required cargo os silver. All told, El Cazador was loaded with about 450,000 coins – Spanish Reales of various denominations. Roughly 400,000 pieces of eight, and 50,000 other Reale coins of small change – 4 Reale and 2 Real coins, etc., an amount totaling upwards of 37,500lbs (or 18.75 tons) of silver!

This coin was one of those 450,000 which vanished into the depths of history…

The Last Voyage of the El Cazador

Once loaded, the El Cazador departed Veracruz on the 11th of January, 1784, setting a course North-Northeast, across the Gulf of Mexico towards New Orleans. At the wheel was Gabriel de Campos y Pineda, a captain selected personally by the King of Spain himself, to command this vital mission.

Exactly what happened to the El Cazador will never be known. Spanish treasure ships lost to hurricanes were extremely common occurrences in those days (read my post about the history of the piece of eight to see just how many fleets were lost in storms back in the 1600s and 1700s!) and it’s likely that the ship succumbed to such a storm.

“The Shipwreck that Changed the World”

The impact of the loss of the El Cazador was great. When it failed to arrive in New Orleans, divers and ships immediately went out into the Gulf of Mexico to determine what had happened to it. No trace of the ship could be found, and the loss of so much money became a disaster for the Spanish and their new world colonies. In June, 1784, the ship and its priceless cargo were officially listed as being lost at sea. While further attempts to ship silver to Louisiana were attmpted, the situation there, already so precarious due to the local distrust of the currency, finally collapsed altogether.

A few years later, the French revolution, and war with Napoleonic France only made things even worse, and eventually, Spain ceded its Louisiana colony to the French in 1800. This was the same territory which was sold to the United States in 1803, in the famous “Louisiana Purchase”. So basically, the United States of the early 1800s doubled in size because of a shipwreck.

What Happened to the El Cazador?

So, in 1784, a ship went down in the Mexican Gulf and was never heard from again. Right?

Well, sort of. The El Cazador was certainly not heard from for the better part of 200 years. This changed in 1993, when some guys out in the Gulf decided to go fishing. On a boat ironically called the Mistake, they sailed through the Gulf and tossed their nets overboard to see what they could find. When the nets snagged on something, they winched them up to find that they had caught large clumps of rock!

Initially, the men were frustrated and disappointed. That is, until one of the men broke one of the clumps open and took a closer look at it. He suddenly realised that it wasn’t a rock after all, but coins! Hundreds and hundreds of silver coins, fused together by two hundred years of corrosion and age!

Clumps of coins from the El Cazador, fused together by the sea after 200 years under water.

The Mistake’s captain, Jerry Murphy, suddenly got really excited, and rang up his lawyer as soon as he could, in order to obtain salvage rights on what he was sure, had to be a sunken ship. Further research identified the wreck as being El Cazador, and soon, huge clumps of silver coins were being winched and hoisted up from the deep, along with loads of other artifacts, including various cannons, and also the ship’s bell.

The coins were eventually cleaned and carefully pried apart. They were eventually sold off, either as single coins with certificates of authenticity, or as cased pieces in plastic frames with the name of the wreck printed on labels and stuck on them. Given that the El Cazador had 400,000 pieces of eight on board, getting your hands on one isn’t too difficult – just make sure that if you’re going to attribute your coin to the El Cazador wreck, that you get as much documentation and proof of it as you can. When it comes to antiques and history – provenance is power!

So Now What Happens?

Well, the coin is now part of my collection! Although the case is damaged, the frame with the authentication sticker is still intact, and I’ve kept it aside as proof of provenance. I’ve researched coin cases (or ‘slabs’ as they’re called in collecting circles) and removing coins from their slabs doesn’t deteriorate or damage the coin’s value or desirability in any way (provided that you keep evidence of the coin’s history, should it have any, and you didn’t damage the coin when it came out of the slab). So excited to have my first real piece of Spanish sunken treasure!

“I want a Shipwrecked Piece of Eight!…Where do I get one!?”

Believe it or not, you can just look them up online. There are a number of websites which act as official agents for various discovered shipwrecks. Simply find the right website and you’ll actually be able to buy genuine shipwreck silver coming from specific wrecks. Each coin comes with some form of authentication, either a framed certificate, or a slabbed coin in a plastic case.

Personally, I think a loose coin and a framed certificate is better, because slabbing a coin and encasing it in plastic can cause all kinds of problems later on, should you want to rehouse or re-display the coin in some other manner. Various coin-dealers I’d spoken to were all of the opinion that slabbing really isn’t the best thing to do with coins, since it can make them less desirable (what’s the point of buying a coin if you can’t pick it up, basically…).

More Information about the El Cazador and its Treasure?

Sure, here’s a few handy sites about the wreck, and its treasure, and how you might be able to buy a genuine piece of shipwreck silver or gold. These websites relate to the wreck of the El Cazador, but also to another famous Spanish treasure wreck: the galleon Atocha. If you’re interested in shipwreck treasure, then definitely check that one out!

http://artifactexchange.com/index.php/shipwrecks/el-cazador

http://www.elcazador.com/

"El Cazador" Shipwreck

 

Buried Treasure: Four Spanish Pieces of Eight!

Digging through albums, boxes and cases of old, crusted-up, grimy, forgotten coins from defunct entities from all around the world can often be a thankless and pointless task. You find all kinds of coins which are not particularly rare, or particularly interesting, or particularly valuable. You find all kinds of coins which are grubby, sticky, grimy, tarnished, chipped, dented and otherwise distinctly unappealing in one way or another.

But occasionally – just occasionally – you do find gems!

Finding the Coin of Destiny

This post is inspired by some coins which I found in the past month or so, while digging around at the local market.

It was on a cold, blustery morning, when I trudged through my local flea-market looking for…stuff. I stopped at the table of a regular stallholder and started burrowing through the cases and trays of coins on offer. Admittedly I don’t do this as a matter of habit – I rarely look for coins at flea-markets, and rarely bother looking through huge swathes of the things, since nine times out of ten, the coins I’m interested in are nowhere to be found, except for specialist coin-collecting stores.

But as I rummaged, I found something, buried under all the offerings of British shillings, Dutch 2 Guilder coins, Indian Rupees, grimy copper pennies and American half-dollars. Inside some simple cardboard coin-holders, crudely stapled together and with near-illegible biro-markings on the border, were three silver coins.

LARGE silver coins!

Out of sheer curiosity, I picked them up and felt them in my hand. They were heavy. Substantial pieces of silver. I examined them closely and spotted a coat of arms between two pillars with banners coiled around them, beneath a crown. Around the edges were Latin inscriptions. One of them read:

“HISPAN. ET. IND. REX. M. 8R. I. I.”

With a stupid little grin on my face, I flipped the little packet over and on the other side was:

“FERDIN. VII. DEI GRATIA” and four numbers: “1820”.

Oh boy.

Oh Boy!

OH BOY!!

A (nearly) 200-year-old silver coin. And not just any silver coin. I looked back at the other side. Sure enough, clear for everyone to see:

“8R”

As in ‘Eight Reales’ (pronounced ‘Ree-ahlz‘)

Out of all that crud and junk, I’d just picked up one of the most famous coins in the world.

A Spanish Dollar. Better known as a Piece of Eight. Fought, squabbled, traded and passed from hand to hand between pirates, traders, merchants, sailors, kings, queens, soldiers and colonials since the end of the 15th century, it is a coin of almost legendary history. A coin, rare variations of which, can fetch literally thousands of dollars – for a piece of silver no bigger than the dial of a man’s wristwatch.

I picked up another one.

“1790”

Ooooh boy!!

I picked up the third one!

“1779”

Hot dawg, we got us a winner!

I flipped the coins back and forth to check the prices and their conditions. When I saw the prices, my heart skipped a beat. They were going cheap! Real cheap!

The three Pieces of Eight (top, bottom and left) which have joined my antique coin collection, together with their brother on the right.

That was when all the alarm-bells started going off in my head. This is either the bargain of a lifetime…or it’s a very clever forgery – and yes, these coins ARE faked. I know that for a fact because I’ve bought (but managed to return) a fake, once in the past (that was a close call!).

Now, as an aside, you might ask, what does it matter? If it’s a nice one, and you can’t afford a real one, then, why not buy a fake? It doesn’t really matter, right?

Yeah, but the problem is – a fake may not matter to you, now – but it’ll matter in 50 years when your grandsons take it to the Antiques Roadshow and their five minutes of fame on international television becomes an international embarrassment when they find out that grandpa got duped with a fake coin. Nobody wants fakes. And if you just coughed up $200 for one, and can’t get it back…you’re screwed!

Anyway. Back to the coins!

Very politely, I asked to examine them. I carefully teased back the staples using a precision instrument – better known as a fingernail – and slipped them out. I popped the three coins from their covers – the three pieces of eight…and then asked to borrow the dealer’s jewelry scale.

If you’re going to be any kind of antiques collector, or dealer – I highly recommend getting one of these little pocket scales. They don’t cost much and their highly precise measurements are specifically for measuring precious metals. I turned the scale on and popped the coins on, one at a time.

A piece of eight should weigh NO MORE than 27.07g. NO LESS than 26g, unless it’s REALLY, REALLY, REALLY worn out.

Coin #1: 26g. Exactly.
Coin #2: 26.52g.
Coin #3: 26.69g.

Alright! Looks like we’re in the clear. It’s a cheap and dirty field-test, but it’s generally quite trustworthy. It’s based on the fact that specific metals have specific densities. A specific size of silver coin will always weigh a specific weight, as opposed to one made of say, nickel-silver, or steel, or some other cheap, imitation-metal like that. A nickel-silver or pewter coin won’t weigh the same amount for the same size of metal.

At first, the weight of the first coin (at only 26g) worried me. But then, that coin was the oldest, and by far the most worn-out. I figured the weight of 26g was acceptable given its condition.

The backs of the coins, showing their ages. 1779, 1790, 1802, and 1820.

Satisfied that the coins were indeed the real deal, next came the haggling. This is where visiting the same flea-market every week for 20 years, so often that people recognise you on sight, comes in handy. When you’re a friendly, regular, weekly face to the long-term dealers, they know who you are, they know what you buy, they know what you pay, they know that eventually, you will buy something from them sooner or later. This helps grease the gears of generosity.

In the end, I toddled off with the coins in my pocket. They were already dirt-cheap and I got them even better than that! Very excited! This now brings my collection (it can now be called a collection, right?) up to the giddy heights of FOUR coins! Oh my, oh my…

The History of the Piece of Eight

So, enough about buying the coins. What about the coins themselves? What exactly makes a Piece of Eight so special? Why is it called a Piece of Eight? What is it about this coin that has made it so famous for so long? Where did it come from? Where did it go? How long did it last?

The official Spanish name for the Piece of Eight was the Reale De a Ocho – Eight Reales. The Real (without the second ‘e’) was the Spanish currency from the 1300s all the way up to the middle of the 19th century! That said, the Piece of Eight or ‘Spanish Dollar’ as it’s also called, doesn’t date back that far. It shows up on the scene about 100-200 years later.

To make the Real easier to count and manage, when Ferdinand and Isabella conquered Spain in the 1490s, returning it to the realms of Christendom, they also reorganised Spain’s pre-existing monetary system. The basis for the new system was to be the 8 Reales coin.

Together, the Escudo (introduced later, in the mid-1500s) and the Real (one gold, one silver) formed the bedrock of this new currency system of the steadily-growing Kingdom (later, Empire) of Spain. They were minted in denominations of 1/2 Real, 1 Real, 2, Reales, 4 Reales, 8 Reales (the ‘Piece of Eight’), 1/2 Escudo (which was equal to one Piece of Eight), 1 Escudo (equal to two Pieces of Eight), 2 Escudo, 4 Escudo, and 8 Escudo (equal to 16 Pieces of Eight!). The 8 Escudo coin (the largest denomination coin manufactured by Spain) was also called a Doubloon.

Of all these coins, the Doubloon and the Piece of Eight became the most famous, the Doubloon for its large size and high gold content, the Piece of Eight for its near universal usage, large size, and impact on world history, which I’ll get to, further down…

Where did Pieces of Eight Come From?

Pieces of Eight were largely manufactured in the Spanish New World colonies such as Mexico, Peru, and Bolivia. The vast majority of the silver used to make Pieces of Eight was mined out of Potosi, a mountain in modern-day Bolivia which was almost completely solid silver. Thousands of tons of silver was mined out of Potosi and this silver was refined, melted and then stamped and shaped into Pieces of Eight (and their smaller denomination coins) to be shipped back to Spain in their millions.

As European powers started colonising North and South America in the 1500s and 1600s, a readily-available system of currency needed to be adopted so that transactions and trade could take place.

The 8 Reales coin, already available in abundance in South America, Mexico, and various parts of North America, became the ideal coin (and by extension, currency) for colonials to trade with. Some countries (such as Britain) actively tried to dissuade the colonists from using British (or other European-power) currency, and so foreign coins (ie: the Piece of Eight) were used instead. The Piece of Eight was almost universally accepted as currency because it was a known quantity. People knew that it was a large coin of proven silver content, and this made it ideal for trade.

Why is the Piece of Eight so Famous?

The Piece of Eight is famous for a number of reasons. The first reason is that the Piece of Eight is widely considered to be the world’s first global or international currency. From the date of its first minting until it finally went out of circulation (Ca. 1865), the Piece of Eight was accepted as currency almost all over the world. And I mean ALL over the world. Canada, America, Mexico, the Caribbean, Britain, Europe, Asia, Australia, Africa and China ALL used the Piece of Eight as a form of currency in one way or another at some point during the coin’s official run as legal tender.

Its large size, heavy weight, high silver content and easily-recognisable design, made the Piece of Eight easily accepted around the world, when no other currency was available. Even in China, where the locals probably couldn’t read (let alone understand) the Latin inscriptions around the coin’s edge, they knew silver when they saw it, and they accepted it as payment for their goods such as porcelain, tea and silk. To ensure that the coin was the real deal, Chinese merchants would test the coin by hammering a seal into the coin to check its silver content. These seals were (and still are) called ‘chops’, and the dents they left in the coins are called ‘chop-marks’. It’s not uncommon to find Pieces of Eight used in the China trade festooned with chop-marks as the coins moved from merchant-to-merchant, each one striking the coin to ensure that it was solid silver.

Pirates and Pieces of Eight

The second reason why Pieces of Eight are so famous is because of their indelible link to the Golden Age of Piracy, the Age of Colonisation, the Age of Exploration, the Age of Sail, and the Enlightenment movements of the 1600s, 1700s and early 1800s.

As I said, Pieces of Eight were largely manufactured in South America and Mexico. To get Pieces of Eight back to Spain, the Spanish government organised a system of treasure-convoys. Basically, what happened was that every few months (say, two or three times a year), a fleet of ships was sent from Spain to the Caribbean and South America. This fleet of ships carried food, water, essential supplies, trade-goods and other necessities and materials required by the colonists living in Spanish holdings in and around the Caribbean Sea.

Once the ships had been offloaded of their cargo, their holds were reloaded with thousands, millions of gold and silver coins – usually escudos, doubloons, Pieces of Eight, and their various smaller denominations – along with tons of gold and silver in the form of bars (ingots).

Thus-loaded, the ships, in convoy, would sail for home.

It was these treasure-bearing Spanish convoys that were a prime target for nominally enemy nations, such as the Netherlands, France, and especially – protestant England.

So, did pirates and privateers really attack Spanish treasure galleons or even entire fleets? Were fleets lost in storms and hurricanes during the voyage back to Spain?

Oh, you bet.

Spanish treasure fleets were lost to storms or hurricanes with surprising frequency. Fleets sank in 1622, 1708, 1715, 1733 and 1750, to name but a few! One ship which sank in the 1622 storm was the Nuestra Señora de Atocha (“Our Lady of Atocha”). The Atocha is in the Guinness Book of World Records as the most valuable shipwreck ever found – probably because it was loaded with 40 tons of gold and silver!

OK, but what about ships lost to epic sea-battles? Did those ever happen?

They certainly did. On the 8th of June, 1708, the Spanish treasure galleon the San Jose was blasted to kingdom come by English cannons during a battle during the War of the Spanish Succession (1701-1714). Eager to stop the treasure-loaded fleet from reaching Spain (and therefore funding the enemy) English warships under the command of Admiral Sir Charles Wager, attacked the Spanish off the coast of Colombia.

The San Jose (center-left) being blown to pieces by British cannonfire during the War of the Spanish Succession.

Three Spanish ships were destroyed in the engagement. One of them was the San Jose. It sank with hundreds of of gold and silver coins on board, as well as several pounds of jewels (mostly emeralds). It was discovered a few years ago, and as of 2017, salvage-operations are underway to retrieve the wreck’s vast fortune (calculated at being $17,000,000,000 – or $17 BILLION in American dollars, as of 2018).

So, that covers treasure lost in shipwrecks and to enemy action on the high seas, but were Pieces of Eight ever handled and used by actual, real-life pirates?

Absolutely.

Despite their ravenous, bloodthirsty image from popular culture such as television, films and books, pirates from the Golden Age of Piracy (roughly the 1620-1800) were surprisingly democratic and socially progressive creatures for ruthless, armed thugs. Surviving documents and books, written during the Golden Age of Piracy (largely during the late 1600s and early 1700s) state that pirates would vote and debate on almost anything and everything. To maintain order and efficiency and comfort at sea, pirate ships had lists of rules, and codes of conduct, which all pirates were expected to obey – and no, unlike in the ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’, they weren’t ‘more like guidelines’ – they were strictly adhered to!

One such regulation was the payment of health insurance! Pirates were entitled to a monetary payout (‘recompense’ as it says in the original documents) if they were injured in the course of a battle, but survived the engagement. Insurance levels varied, and depended on where you were injured, with different payouts stipulated for the loss of hands, arms, legs, fingers, or eyes.

So, how were these payments made? In Pieces of Eight, of course! And these could be very, very, VERY substantial payments. Loss of an eye was equal to 100 Pieces of Eight. Loss of an arm or leg could be up to 500 or 600 Pieces of Eight!

The Piece of Eight: The First Global Currency

Spain had colonies in Mexico, North America, South America, and the Far East. Spanish trade dominated the world from the late 1400s right up to the end of the 18th century. Because of this, the Piece of Eight was a coin that was used all over the world. Every continent permanently settled by mankind up to the start of the 19th century was touched by this coin in one way or another. It was the only coin which saw near-universal acceptance, being used as currency in Canada, America, Australia, Britain, much of South America and the Caribbean, Mexico, China, Africa and across Europe.

In America, the Piece of Eight was legal tender until 1857, when the first, truly American-made coins had been made in sufficient-enough quantities to replace it. In Australia, the Piece of Eight was legal tender until 1825. in China, the Piece of Eight was used as money up until roughly the time of the Opium Wars (1840s and 50s). In 1864, the Reale was finally retired as the Spanish unit of currency, to be replaced by the Peseta – the currency of Spain from 1869 until the country adopted the Euro, in 2001.

In China, merchants refused to trade with Europeans in anything except silver coinage. In this respect, the Piece of Eight was ideal as a system of currency. Its large size and high silver content made it highly attractive to the Chinese. But of course, the Chinese, not trusting these strange, white devils, would always test any silver coins given to them, before they accepted them as payment.

The 1779 dollar. Observe the areas circled in blue. The symbols hammered into the silver are chop marks made by Chinese merchants.

This was done by hammering a punch into the face of the coin to test its silver content, and also to mark that the coin had been independently assayed by a Chinese merchants to attest its authenticity. A coin with loads of chop-marks hammered all over it was taken to be a coin of proven silver-content, and was therefore acceptable for use as payment.

In Australia, the Piece of Eight was the nation’s first official currency after the island was colonised in the 1780s. Early in Australia’s history, rum, tobacco and other foodstuffs were used as barter, but when this became unsustainable, the governor of the day decided that foreign coins of known value would be appropriate for use as currency within the colony and a list of foreign coins was compiled. Only the coins on the list could be used as currency within Australia. These coins became known as Proclamation Coins, since they were the coins mentioned specifically in the proclamation from Government House.

The problem with these coins is that they could still be used OUTSIDE of Australia. This meant that loads of these coins were leaving the island on merchant ships which sailed to Australia to do trade with the colony. They sold their stuff to the colonists, who paid them in the valuable coinage, and then the sailors sailed off, leaving even fewer coins in the settlement.

To stop this, the next governor down the line decided that ONE type of coin would be used: The Spanish Silver Dollar or the Piece of Eight. He bought a whole heap of these coins (thousands of them) from Britain and had them shipped to Australia.

To make the coins worthless outside of Australia, he had them punched out. The larger ‘donut’ on the outside was called the “Holey Dollar” and the punched out nugget in the center became known as the ‘Dump’. The Holey Dollar was worth 5/- (five shillings), and the dump was worth 15d (fifteen pence).

In 1825, this practice was discontinued when a law was passed stipulating that ONLY British currency would be used within Australia. As a result, all the Holey Dollars and Dumps were swept up and tossed into the melter’s pot. Today, a Piece of Eight can be easily purchased online, although prices can vary wildly. By comparison, a Holey Dollar and Dump are worth THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS each, because so few of them survive today.

How Was a Piece of Eight Made?

The earliest Pieces of Eight were simply made by hacking off chunks of silver from cast bars (ingots) of silver, shaving them down until they were the prerequisite weight, and then punching the pre-carved designs (engraved into metal die-punches) into the coins, using a punch (like a stamp) and a hammer to apply the force. In this way, coins were quite literally ‘hand-struck’, and handmade, one after the other, piecemeal. Once one side of the coin had been struck, it was simply flipped over and the opposing die-punch was struck to the other side.

Coins such as these are called ‘cob’ coins and their crude methods of manufacture meant that they were often open to forgery. To have any faith in the money, even if it was solid gold or silver, merchants would routinely weigh coins to ensure that the cob in question was of the correct weight, since it wasn’t unknown for unscrupulous dealers to hack off the corners of silver coins and pass them off as whole ones, and then use the scavenged silver for something else (this practice was called ‘clipping’ the coin, since you clipped a bit off the edge each time).

The milled edges of the Pieces of Eight, an anti-clipping measure. The worn rim on the 1779 coin (left) explains why it’s a whole gram lighter than what a perfect coin would weigh.

By the 1700s, more advanced methods of coin-manufacture, similar to how coins are made today, started being devised, and anti-tampering measures such as decorated, milled edges started being introduced. With a milled or decorated edge to the coin, it was immediately obvious if it had been tampered with, thereby reducing the risk of someone wanting to ‘clip’ the coin for its silver-content.

Unless the Piece of Eight you own is EXTREMELY old (pre-1700s), it’s likely to be a milled coin rather than a cob coin.

The Anatomy of a Piece of Eight

By the 1700s, the general design of the Piece of Eight started becoming more or less standardised, with a few minor changes as the years progressed.

A typical Piece of Eight from the 1700s up through to the 1820s and 30s consisted of, on one side, the name of the reigning Spanish monarch of the day, the year of minting, and the Latin phrase “Dei Gratia” (“God’s Grace”, or “By the Grace of God”).

the other side of the coin had a crown at the top, and beneath that, a coat of arms. These consisted of castles and lion rampants set into the quarters, The Fleur de Lys of the House of Bourbon, in the middle, and beneath, a pomegranate. To either side are pillars, signifying the Pillars of Hercules, which corresponded to the Rock of Gibraltar (northern pillar) and the northwestern-most point of the African continent. Since antiquity, the Pillars of Hercules symbolised the entrance to the Mediterranean Sea.

For centuries, the Pillars of Hercules, guarding the entrance to the mighty Atlantic Ocean, were seen as the gateway to the unknown. What existed beyond them was pure conjecture. The Latin phrase “Non Plus Ultra” (“Nothing Further Beyond“) became widely associated with the pillars.

The Spanish coat of arms and the Pillars of Hercules on the coin.

This all changed in the 1490s when Christopher Columbus discovered the New World! Suddenly, there WAS something beyond the Pillars of Hercules, and with daring and tenacity, that something could be reached, colonised, explored, and exploited!

To this end, the old motto of “Non Plus Ultra” was changed to “Plus Ultra” (“Further Beyond“). It became the national motto of the Kingdom of Spain, and was added in swirling scrolls around the Pillars of Hercules on the Piece of Eight, to indicate that the wealth, power and influence of the Spanish started in Spain, and spread “Plus Ultra” – “Further Beyond” than the eyes of man could possibly see!

You will need an extremely powerful magnifying glass (and a Piece of Eight of the right vintage in good condition) but the microscopic letters are visible on the scrolls around the pillars.

Finally, around the coat of arms and the Pillars of Hercules are the words:

HISPAN. ET. IND. REX.” (“King of Spain and the Indies“), the mint-marks (in my case, an LM for Lima, and an M for Mexico City), the monetary designation of ‘8R‘ (8 Reales), and finally, the initials of the assay master overseeing production of the coins.

The Influence of the Piece of Eight

Not for nothing is the Piece of Eight, arguably the most famous coin in the world. The Chinese Yuan, the American Dollar, the Mexican Peso and countless other currencies around the world, all owe SOMETHING to the Piece of Eight. For example, when the Piece of Eight was finally pulled from circulation in the ‘States in 1857, its official replacement was the American Silver Dollar. This was a coin which was 38mm across, weighed 27g, and which was 90% solid silver.

Do those measurements sound familiar? They should – they’re the EXACT same ones used by the Piece of Eight, on which the silver dollar was based!

An American Silver Dollar (left, from 1891) next to the stack of Pieces of Eight (right). Observe the size. Not only that, they’re almost exactly the same thickness and weight. They’re also almost the same silver content.

The American system of quarters, nickels and dimes are also directly descended from the Piece of Eight. The idea of the Half Dollar and Quarter Dollar come from the original practice of quite literally – chopping up a Piece of Eight into halves, and quarters – and sometimes – even eighths! You could literally have an eighth of a Piece of Eight! These cut up silver coins were part of the basis of loose change today.

If you want more proof that the Piece of Eight is indeed, the most famous and influential coin in the world, then have you ever considered the dollar-sign? You know. This thing: “$”.

Look closely at a Piece of Eight. Here…

Notice the scrolls wrapped around the pillars of Hercules? See anything familiar there? The scrolls around the pillars was what led to the symbol for the dollar – the S with the two lines through it. Such is the influence of the Piece of Eight that MILLIONS of people use that symbol every day without even realising where it comes from.

Fake Reales – How to Tell Fake Coins from Real Coins

I openly admit to being a novice and casual coin-collector. I’ve only been doing this for two or three years at most. I like collecting coins with some sort of historical significance, either personal, or global. It was for this reason that I was attracted to seeking out Spanish Reale coins. The problem is, reales are (or can be) very expensive. Very, very, VERY expensive. Prices of $2,000-$3,000+, isn’t unheard of, for exceptionally rare or old examples. That’s why when I saw the price for this coin (which was far, far, FAR less than $2,000), I immediately became both interested, and wary of it.

So, if something seems too good to be true, and you want to make sure it IS true, how do you safeguard yourself against buying a dud coin?

There are a few quick-and-dirty ways.

Magnet Test

The first and easiest way to figure out if a coin is fake is to do a magnet-test. A steel coin purporting to be silver will snap to a magnet like flies to a cowpat. By comparison, a silver coin will not (or will not as readily) stick to a magnet. Some might, due to impurities in the metal, but it should be a slow or weak adherence.

A pair of rare-earth magnets (which are EXTREMELY POWERFUL) will do the trick. Easily purchased at your local car-supplies, or boating/fishing stores. BE SURE TO STORE THESE MAGNETS CAREFULLY – do NOT put them near electronics, mechanical watches, computers, phones or anything else like that – the extremely powerful magnetic field will damage them. Store them somewhere far away from other items, ideally in a padded cardboard or wooden box.

However, super-powerful magnets alone are not enough. You can get coins which are made of cheap, silver-like alloys (nickel-silver, for example) which will react the same way as real coins. So, what else can you do?

Weight and See!

The next test is to weigh the coin. A small (but highly-accurate) digital pocket jeweler’s scale costs very little. A few tens of dollars at your local jewelry-supply shop (where I bought mine) or online. Take it with you if you go bargain-hunting or antiquing regularly. Of course, for this to work – you need to know what the coin is SUPPOSED to weigh, in the first place. Perhaps keep a note of the coins you’re after, and their correct weights (easily found online from numismatic websites) with the scale for when you take it out with you. Then, simply weigh the coin. A coin which is SIGNIFICANTLY over-or-underweight is likely to be a fake. A coin which is exactly the correct weight, or slightly under (within one gram) is likely to be real.

For example, a Spanish Piece of Eight weighs 27.07g. That’s if you can find a PERFECT one. Very few Spanish reales are perfect. That being the case, expect SOME loss in weight. Instead of 27.07, it might be 27.00. Or 26.3, or 26.7, or 26.5, or 26.25. Unless the coin is missing a LOT of metal, it shouldn’t ever dip down into the 25g-range. If it does, approach with caution.

Unless you are absolutely certain that you can spot a fake – stay well away from any suspect coins like that. A fake Piece of Eight will weigh significantly less than 27, or even 26 grams. They can drop all the way down to 22, 25, 23 grams, etc. Any coin registering that sort of weight is a HUGE red-flag. Put it down, and walk away slowly.

Wear and Tear

Last but not least, check the physical condition of a coin. Any coin that is too perfect or too imperfect may be suspect. The exceptions to this are if the coin is really, really old, or if it’s shipwreck-salvage (yes, you can buy shipwreck coins, and it’s perfectly legal to do so). A genuine antique coin will have genuine antique wear and flaws and damage on it. Rubbed lettering, faded imagery, dents, cracks, dings – in some cases, they’ll even have chunks taken out of them. Some will have their corners or edges completely rubbed-off from decades and centuries of handling. Details like shields, facial-features like eyes, noses, mouths, hair, clothing, lettering, etc, should all show even wear. Milling or edge-decorations should show consistency.

While antique coins were handmade (or made with crude machinery) they nonetheless had to be perfect – or as near-perfect as the assayer and mint could make them. That being the case, any obvious flaws (like half the date falling off the bottom of the coin, when you can clearly see the edge-milling being intact) should serve as red flags for fake coins.

On the Edge

Another way to check whether a coin is fake or not, is to check the edging around the coin’s rim. A Piece of Eight has very distinctive circle-and-square patterning around its edge. This edging – properly called milling – was invented centuries ago as an anti-fraud device. By decorating the edges of coins, it became possible to see whether the coin had been defaced or cut up or been the victim of ‘clipping’ (where minute fragments of the coin’s precious silver had been scraped or filed off).

Fake Spanish dollars will sometimes (but not always) have markedly fake milling around the sides. If you ever see a Spanish dollar with modern corrugated milling on it – run away! Because they never did them like that! Ever!

Fine Details

Another way to figure out if a coin is fake is to compare it against a real coin. Obviously this isn’t always possible to do, but there are certain things you can look out for. Check things like character-spacing and sizing in letters, evenness of stamping, the crispness or clarity of the imagery used on the coin, and the fineness of the edges and rims.

Fake coins won’t bother with things like creases in robes, curls or strands of hair, detail to eyes and mouths on faces, and things like that. Some do, but most fraudsters are just banking on the fact that someone will be too excited by the prospect of getting a rare or famous coin, and will buy the coin too fast to examine it properly, allowing the forger to make a quick buck on a scam. Take as much time as you need to look at suspect coins.

The End of an Era

The Piece of Eight, the coin that ruled the world for three and a half CENTURIES finally came to an end in the 1860s, when in 1869, the Spanish Peseta replaced it as Spain’s official currency. By this point in time the Piece of Eight was already being phased out in other countries around the world anyway, and within a few years, its use had ended completely.

The coin was taken out of circulation and a piece of silver that once ruled the world and had circumnavigated it countless times and had visited every continent permanently settled by man, was suddenly made obsolete, to survive now only in antiques shops, private collections and in the fantasy of books, films and pirate lore…

 

Russian Silver Beaker (Moscow, 1850).

I think if you’re going to try and make it as an antiques dealer – even if it’s a small side-business or hobby that you do between other things, it’s good to hunt down, collect and keep the occasional trinket for yourself. A silent reminder to enjoy the things that you can come across while out hunting for stuff.

One example of this was something I picked up recently, a beautiful solid silver Russian pedestal beaker…

I’m not sure who the maker is, but this gorgeous piece of silver was manufactured in Moscow in the early 1850s, with a zolotnik mark of ’84’ on the rim (more about that, later). It’s comprised of two parts: The body, and the base, which are curved and circular in form, and soldered together at the neck. After buying it, I had a quick peek online to see what these things generally go for…and I think I got a pretty decent bargain, considering! Hahaha…Aaaaanyway…

The Russian Beaker

Let us begin at the beginning. This is a Russian silver – BEAKER. A beaker is different from a MUG in that beakers do not have handles. It’s called a pedestal beaker because it’s mounted on a pedestal, base, or foot. Not on a STEM, like a goblet, which is similar, but longer and thinner in shape.

How Was It Made?

Like most silverware, this piece was likely made using a series of hammers in a shaping process known as ‘raising’. Basically, you start out with a flat disc of silver (a ‘sheet’ as it’s called); you trace a circle on it, make a dent in the middle, to mark the center, and from the center, you work out and up, beating the sheet with a hammer in a series of concentric rings.

As you beat the silver, the metal stretches and forms, rising up as it’s manipulated by all the hammer-dents (hence ‘raising’ the silver). This builds up the sides of the cup. As the process continues, the silver would be heated (annealed) to soften it and remove brittleness. Failure to anneal the silver would mean that the constant beating would compact and harden the metal, making it brittle.

Eventually, the basic shape of the cup would be complete. A similar process would’ve been used to create the base. Once the two pieces had been made, they would’ve been planished and then burnished (smoothed out and polished), possibly on a lathe, to get uniformity of shape.

Once that was completed, the two parts would’ve been decorated – separately – before being soldered together.

The decoration on this piece is all hand-engraving. It is extremely intricate, but not exactly the best of quality – there are a variety of inconsistencies here and there around the body of the beaker. There are places where the decorations are uneven, or lines cross or cut into other decorations by accident.

Because of these inconsistencies, I suspect that this beaker was likely a practice-piece, made by an apprentice (student) silversmith, or a journeyman silversmith, who had graduated his apprenticeship but was still new to the craft, and who was attempting to show off what he had learned.

Whoever made it (the maker’s mark is unknown), the smith obviously felt that it was of sufficient quality to put on sale, because the beaker, warts-and-all, was sent off to be assayed!

Russian Hallmarks

By the 1800s, like with most other countries around Europe, Russia had established a solid system of hallmarking – the testing and certification of silverwares prior to their entrance onto the commercial market – a necessary middleman step to weed out any fraudsters and con-artists from cheating unsuspecting customers.

As with almost every other European country, the hallmarks followed a specific system: There was the place of assay, the date of assay, the purity of the silver, and the maker’s mark. This beaker includes a fifth mark, which is the mark of the Assay-Master – the name (or in this case, the initials) of the big-cheese who ran the office to which the beaker had been sent for assay.

In this case, the marks are:

[A.K.] [185-] [84] [Image of St. George and the Dragon] [Maker’s Mark in Cyrillic letters]

The hallmarks on the rim of the beaker. The fact that they’re uneven tells me that the beaker was hand-marked, using a hammer, a supporting-block, and a series of steel punches.

The A.K. stands for Andrey Anatovich Kovalsky, who was master of assay at the Moscow Assay Office until he left the post in 1856. The next mark is the ‘185-‘. This is the year of assay. I left the last number off because it’s not clear. But it still dates the beaker to a very narrow window – 1850 to 1856.

The next mark is ’84’. You would think that ’84’ is the purity – as in – 84%.

Well…yes…and no.

84 is actually the zolotniki.

“…the what?” I hear you ask.

The ‘zolotnik’ (plural ‘zolotniki’) was a Russian measurement of weight, which came from a 12th century gold coin – the zolotnik. Although the coin went out of circulation centuries ago, its name was repurposed in the 1700s for the national hallmarking of silver. There were four grades of zolotnik, starting at 96, then 90, 84, and 62 zolotniks (62 was later replaced by 72, which was replaced less than a century later, by 84, which remained the national lower-limit up to the time of the Revolution in 1917).

96 zolotniki = 100% pure silver.

90 zolotniki = 93.7% silver.

84 zolotniki = 87.5% silver.

So the mark of ’84’ on the beaker represents 87.5% silver purity.

The next mark is that of St. George slaying the dragon – a famous story from European folklore. This is the coat of arms for the City of Moscow, signifying where the piece was hallmarked.

The final mark, as with British silverware of the same era, is the maker’s mark, which was usually the maker’s initials. In this case, it’s his initials in Cyrillic (Russian) lettering. Unfortunately I don’t read Cyrillic script, and information on Russian maker’s marks can be very hard to find. We may never know who made this piece.

Closing Remarks

So is a beaker like this a rare piece? Yes and no. As a possible apprentice piece – probably. Russian silver is fairly rare, but not THAT rare. You can find it and you can definitely collect it. Although I imagine that pre-revolution pieces tend to fetch a premium.

Is it a piece of first-order manufacture? I don’t think so. I have seen other pieces online which looked even more lovely than this (and I think that’s pretty hard to beat!), but that said – the prices on those were hundreds, even thousands, of dollars more than what I paid, so I’m happy to have it! I think it’s beautiful, different and certainly unique!

 

Jewish Silver: Vintage Judaica Kiddush Cup

This charming little beaker was part of a box-lot of silver I won at auction. I put the rest of it up for sale, but kept this one because I was attracted to the beautiful decorations and bunches of grapes on the sides. What we have here is a piece of Judaica silver (‘Judaica’ meaning any paraphernalia related to the Jewish culture or religion). It’s in absolutely gorgeous vintage condition and it’s the first confirmed piece of vintage or antique Jewish silver I’ve ever had in my collection.

So…What is a Kiddush Cup?

Kiddush cups – traditionally made of gold, or more commonly – silver with gilt interiors – are beakers or chalices used by those who follow the Jewish faith, to serve and consume kosher wine during their weekly observance of the Sabbath. It makes up part of a simple ceremony where simple, everyday staples (in this case, wine, and challah bread) are eaten during the Sabbath in accordance with the Torah’s instruction that it is a day of rest and relaxation from the toils of the week.

‘Kiddush’ is the Hebrew word for ‘Sanctification’ and in this respect, refers to the sanctification of the bread and wine consumed during the Sabbath (or other significant holy events, such as weddings, special birthdays, or other Jewish holidays).

Continental silver Kiddush goblet, decorated with a bunch of grapes, and “JERUSALEM”, in Old Hebrew. Thanks to my Jewish friends (you know who you are if you’re reading this!) for helping me with the translation!

Kiddush cups are therefore important symbolic and religious artifacts to the families which own them. They’re often purchased for, or given to children (boys and girls) during their Bar/Bat Mitzvahs and as mentioned previously – are usually silver, lined in gold. Due to their significance and their expense, kiddush cups are treated with great care. Some cups can become family heirlooms, with young family members inheriting the cups of deceased ancestors, instead of getting their own. Children who aren’t allowed to drink wine are sometimes given grape-juice to drink from their cups, until they’re of legal drinking-age.

How Big is a Kiddush Cup?

Honestly? Not very. The vast majority that I’ve seen, both online and in person, were relatively small. No more than three or four, four-and-a-half inches tall. That said, they’re not meant as a daily drinking vessel, hence their relatively diminutive size. That, and they’re meant to hold wine, not water.

How to Identify a Kiddush Cup?

Kiddush cups typically come in one of two styles: Chalices or goblets, and beakers, sometimes (but not usually) with a handle on the side. They’re almost always made from silver (anywhere from 800 continental, up to 925 sterling), and they’re almost always gilt (gold-plated) around the interior. This is to counteract the acidity of the wine which the cups usually hold.

Not all Kiddush cups are festooned in decorations. This one is simply bordered with a lovely filigree pattern near the rim. The silver-mark and maker’s mark on the base identified it as a Kiddush cup.

They’re also usually relatively small, with a cup-size (even with a footed goblet) being not more than four or five inches tall.

Their exteriors are often (although not always) elaborately decorated, with engraving, chasing, and repousse embellishments. To more readily identify them as kiddush cups, as opposed to just standard silver beakers, some cups are deliberately adorned with Jewish themes. These include Stars of David, words or phrases in ancient Hebrew text, or bunches of grapes and foliage worked into the decorations.

Judaica Silverware and the Holocaust

During the 1930s and 40s, many European Jewish families fled, or went into hiding. And where possible, their silverware went with them. Jewish families who fled Europe packed their menorahs, challah trays, kiddush-cups, mezuzahs and countless other silverware into their trunks and cases and boarded ships bound for England, Canada, Australia, America, and even China, in the years leading up to the Second World War.

Families who couldn’t make it out in time hid their silverware, or even buried it in their homes to keep it from the Nazis. Some families were able to retrieve their silverware after the war, before migrating out of Europe, and in modern times, these pieces of rare silver form an important part of their family histories, as well as being priceless heirlooms. Today, antique, pre-war Jewish silver is both rare and highly sought-after. Exceptionally fine candelabras, trays, menorahs, etc, can fetch high prices in auction-settings.

Can you buy modern Judaica silverware?

Absolutely! Silversmiths, companies and websites all exist to cater to this market, and beautiful examples of modern Jewish silver can be purchased online. One firm of note is that of Hazorfim, which has been in operation for nearly seventy years!

So, will I ever sell my little grapey Kiddush cup? I don’t think so. It’s just too beautiful to sell. On top of that, buying it has been a learning experience, showing how you really need to know a lot about history and different cultures, to fully appreciate the depth and breadth of antiques.

 

A Solid Silver Plate

You find the strangest things in box-lots at auction. This came with a couple of old candlesticks which were in pretty lousy condition. While they were really only good for the scrapping pot, the silver plate, was in pretty damn good nick. The two or three age-marks on the surface of the metal were easily removed with a bit of polishing and sprucing up, and the heavy tarnish around the borders were eventually removed with enough scrubbing and elbow grease.

There’s really not much to be said about this plate. All-told, it measures only eight inches from edge to edge, and is perhaps an inch deep, if that. It’s circular, with a nice, wavy, raised border. It’s not as elaborate as some silver plates I’ve seen online, but at the same time, it’s not as simple as some others I’ve seen. It’s somewhere in the middle. It’s decorated enough not to look really plain, but not so decorated as to look really gaudy and flashy.

Apart from the purity mark on the back (for 90% silver) and the indications that it was made in South America, there’s nothing on it to denote its age, who it was made by, or for what purpose. I’m not even sure if this is part of a set, or not. I suspect not, but I have no way of really knowing. Like the pedestal bowl in my previous posting (see further down), I expect that this was a single piece, meant for decoration or service, rather than as part of a set, since breaking up a set of solid silver plates seems almost heretical!

Whatever the plate’s story is, and despite its simplicity of style, I think it’s beautiful. While it’s not really big enough to be a dinner-plate, it’s definitely much bigger than other silver plates that I’ve seen in person in many, many years.

 

Footed Continental Silver Bowl (1915)

Yet another auction-win, this beautiful silver bowl is the latest addition to my modest vintage and antique silverware collection. It’s about four inches high, and eight inches in diameter, with beautiful curving decorations on both the foot and body, a wide lip and a solid base.

It’s marked on the base with an ‘800’ (for 80% silver by purity), and with a crescent moon and crown (hallmark denoting silver manufactured in Germany), and a logo for the company of M.H. Wilkens & Sohne (“M.H. Wilkens & Son”). Established in 1810, the company is still in production today. The serial-number on the base of my piece (238007) corresponds to a manufacturing date of 1915!

The detail on the side. Getting into the crevices to rub out the tarnish was a long and frustrating process which still isn’t fully complete…

Polishing this piece has proved tricky. The wavy lines and decorations, while very attractive, are a real nuisance to clean! Getting into the crevices to rub out the tarnish has been almost impossible. I’ve needed a lot of patience just to get the dish to an even halfway decent appearance. That said, it’s not a bad job so far.

The Manufacturer: Wilkens & Sohne

In business since 1810, M.H. Wilkens & Sohne (today just ‘Wilkens’), is one of Germany’s longest-operating silverware manufacturers, making everything from bowls to cups, porringers, cutlery, bowls and tableware. Their website lists a wide range of merchandise in both silver, and silver-plate.

The Wilkens marks. The spindle-press (left) for Wilkens. The 800 for 80% silver, and the crescent and crown, for German silver.

Researching the manufacturer of the bowl was a tricky process. I already knew a bit just by looking at the marks, but not much. I knew that it was 80% silver, and I knew that the bowl was made in Germany, and after 1886 (the crescent and crown didn’t show up until then), but nothing else. Researching German makers’ marks revealed that the odd shape – the press – was the hallmark of Wilkens & Sohne, which led to me finding their German wikipedia page, which told me about their production-dates and serial numbers, as well as the link to their official website.

The production number, 238007, helped me to date the piece to 1915!

Purpose of the Bowl?

Honestly, I don’t know! I suspect it may be purely decorative, or it may have been used as a fruit bowl or serving bowl of some kind. It’s not really big enough to be a soup tureen or punch-bowl, but it’s not small enough to be something used for individual service. There doesn’t seem to be any indication that it ever had a lid, or an underplate or tray, either.

The inside of the bowl.

Measuring eight inches across, and four inches high, it’s not exactly small, but on the other hand, not really that huge. That said, it weighs the better part of a half-kilo of silver, so it’s not really light, either! It’s probably the heaviest piece of silver I’ve bought so far and apart from one or two pinhead dents, it’s in spectacular condition.

Fixing the Bowl

The underside of the bowl, showing the decorated foot. The hallmarks denoting manufacture, date and purity, were struck to the inside edge.

There were one or two minor issues with the bowl when I bought it. First were the pinhead dents, neither of which is noticeable, so I left them alone. The more immediate problem was that the bowl wobbled. After feeling around with my fingers I discovered that this was because of a dent in the base. A handful of well-placed strikes with a padded, ballpeen hammer rounded the dent out and flattened the base, removing the wobble and restoring the shape! Not all such dent-removal is so easy, but sometimes, you can get lucky in popping, hammering and pressing out dents with a careful application of force.