Pirate Latitudes

Chapter 25

THAT NIGHT, ANCHORED in Constantina Bay, in the shadow of a low and scrubby island, the crew voted six of their company to join Hunter and Sanson in the counting of the treasure. This was a serious and solemn business. Although the rest of the crew took the opportunity to become roaring drunk on Spanish rum, the eight men remained sober until accounting was completed.

There were two treasure vaults on Hunter’s ship; the first was opened, and found to contain five chests. The first chest contained pearls, of uneven quality but still extremely valuable. The second chest was heaped with gold escudos, which gleamed dully in the lantern light. The escudos were painstakingly counted, and counted again, before being replaced in the chest. Gold in those days was extremely rare — only one Spanish ship in a hundred carried any — and the privateers were elated. The remaining three chests were filled with silver bars from Mexico. Hunter estimated that the total value of the five chests was more than ten thousand pounds sterling.

In a state of great excitement, the accounting party broke open the second treasure vault. Here they found ten chests, and enthusiasm ran high until the first was opened, to reveal gleaming silver bars with the crown-and-anchor stamp of Peru. But the surface of the bars was multicolored and uneven.

“I don’t like the look of this,” Sanson said.

The other chests were hastily opened. They were all the same, all multicolored silver ingots.

Hunter said, “Call for the Jew.”

Don Diego, squinting in the dark light belowdecks, hiccoughing from Spanish kill-devil, frowned at the silver bars. “This is not good news,” he said slowly. He called for a set of scales, and a cask of water, and for a silver bar from the first treasure vault.

When it was all assembled, the accounting group watched as the Jew placed the Mexican silver bar on one side of the scales and tested various bars of Peruvian silver on the other side until he found one that balanced exactly.

“These will do,” he said, and set the bars of equal weight to one side. He drew the water cask in front of him and submerged the Mexican silver bar first. The water level inside the cask rose. The Jew marked the new level with his dagger blade, cutting a line in the wood.

He removed the Mexican bar and dropped in the Peruvian silver. The water level went higher than his cut mark.

“What does this mean, Don Diego? Is it silver?”

“In part,” the Jew said. “But not entirely. There is some impurity, some other metal, heavier than silver, but of the same color.”

“Is it plumbum?”

“Perhaps. But lead is dull on the surface, and this is not. I warrant that this silver is mixed with platina.”

This news was greeted with groans. Platinum was a worthless metal.

“How much of it is platina, Don Diego?”

“I cannot say. To know exactly I need better measures. I guess as much as half.”

“The damned Dons,” Sanson said. “Not only do they steal from the Indians, they steal from each other. Philip is a poor king to be so openly cheated.”

“All kings are cheated,” Hunter said. “It is in the nature of being a king. But these bars are still worth something — at least ten thousand pounds. We have still captured a great treasure.”

“Aye,” Sanson said. “But think what it might have been.”

There was other treasure to be accounted. The holds of the ships contained household articles, fabrics, logwood, tobacco, and spices such as chili and cloves. All these could be auctioned on the docks of Port Royal, and they would amount, in total, to a substantial sum — perhaps two thousand pounds.

The accounting ran long into the night, and then the counting team joined the others in drunken songs and revelry. Neither Hunter nor Sanson participated; instead, they met in Hunter’s cabin.

Sanson came directly to the point. “How is the woman?”

“Prickly,” Hunter said. “And she cries a good deal.”

“But she is unscathed?”

“She is alive.”

“She must be accounted a part of the king’s tenth,” Sanson said. “Or the governor’s.”

“Sir James will not allow it.”

“Surely you can persuade him.”

“I doubt it.”

“You have rescued his only niece . . .”

“Sir James has a keen business sense. His fingers cling to gold.”

“I think you must try, on the part of all the crew,” Sanson said, “to show him the correct way of thinking.”

Hunter shrugged. He had, in fact, already thought of this, and was planning to argue the case before the governor.

But he did not wish to make any promises to Sanson.

The Frenchman poured wine. “Well,” he said heartily. “We have done great things, my friend. What is your plan for the return?”

Hunter sketched his intention to travel south, then to stay in open water until they could reach northward for Port Royal.

“Do you not think,” Sanson said, “that we will be safer if we divide the treasure between the two ships, and separate now, returning by different routes?”

“I think it is better we remain together. Two ships present a formidable obstacle, seen from a distance. Singly, we might be attacked.”

“Aye,” Sanson said. “But there are a dozen Spanish ships of the line patrolling these waters. If we separate, it is most unlikely we would both encounter warships.”

“We need not fear Spanish warriors. We are legitimate Spanish merchantmen. Only the French or the English might attack us.”

Sanson smiled. “You do not trust me.”

“Of course not,” Hunter said, smiling back. “I want you in my sight, and I want the treasure beneath my feet.”

“So be it,” Sanson said, but there was a dark look in his eyes, and Hunter promised himself he would remember it.