"The inhabitants of this place, not being able to re-collect themselves from their consternation, have shut up their houses and shops for fear of being plundered by the common people who exclaim publicly against the government, and particularly against Cardinal Porto Carrero and others of the Council, who not being content with the free gift of three millions offered to the king out of the galleons, besides an indulto of two millions, hindered the landing of the plate at Vigo before the enemy arrived there. But the Cardinal laid the blame upon the Consultat of Seville, who, mistrusting the French, would not suffer them to carry the galleons to Brest or Port Lewis, but gave orders that they should sail back from Vigo to Cadiz after the English and Dutch fleets were returned home. 'Tis said that only three of the galleons put their cargo ashore before the arrival of the enemy."
The news was a most bitter pill for His Christian Majesty, Louis XIV of France, and put him and his court "into a mighty consternation." He was quoted as saying that "there was not one-tenth part of the plate and merchandise landed from on board the fleet. This is the most facetious piece of news that could come to the enemies of France and Spain."
All the records lay stress on the immense value of the treasure lost, one that "the Spanish galleons were coming from Mexico overladen with riches," another that "vast wealth in gold, silver, and merchandise was lost in that terrible battle of Vigo," a third that "this was the richest flota that ever came into Europe." It is extraordinary that most of this treasure has remained untouched for more than two centuries at the bottom of Vigo Bay. The records of the Spanish government contain almost complete memoranda of every concession granted to searching parties, and of the valuables recovered, which total to date is no more than a million and a half of dollars.
Soon after the battle, Spain began to fish for her lost galleons and in that same year of 1702, the official newspaper of Madrid recorded that "we are instructed from Vigo that they are proceeding with success in the raising of the precious burden belonging to the Capitana, and Almiranta of the Flota." For some reason or other, the task was shortly abandoned, and the work turned over to private enterprise and companies which were granted special charters, the Crown demanding as much as ninety-five per cent. of all the treasure recovered. During the half century following the loss of the fleet, as many as thirty of these concessions were granted, but most of them accomplished nothing. The first treasure hunter to achieve results worth mention was a Frenchman, Alexandre Goubert, who went to work in 1728, and after prodigious exertion succeeded in dragging almost ashore a hulk which turned put to be no galleon but one of the men-of-war of his own country, at which there was much merriment in "perfidious Albion." This disgusted M. Goubert and he was heard of no more.
An Englishman, William Evans, tried a diving bell of his own invention in the same century, and raised many plates of silver, but a Spanish concessionaire, jealous of this good fortune, persuaded his government that it was in bad taste to let history repeat itself by giving the English another fling at the treasure. In 1825, time having softened these poignant memories, a Scotchman was permitted to work in the bay, and local tradition affirms that he found much gold and silver, outwitting the officials at Madrid who demanded eighty per cent. of his findings. The inspectors posted to keep watch of his operations he made comfortably drunk, bundled them ashore, clapped sail on his brigantine, and vanished with his booty. Later a castle was built near Perth in Scotland, and given the name of Dollar House. Here the Scotchman aforesaid "lived happily ever afterwards" for all that is known to the contrary.
Through the eighteenth century French, English, and Spanish exploring parties were intriguing, quarreling, buying one another out, now and then finding some treasure, and locating the positions of most of the galleons. In 1822, American treasure hunters invaded the bay, organized as the International Submarine Company, and hailing from Philadelphia. Nothing worth mention was done until these adventurous gentlemen after a good deal of bickering, made a fresh start under the name of the Vigo Bay Treasure Company. Their affairs dragged along for a half century or so, during which they lifted one galleon from the bottom but the weight of mud in her hull broke her to small bits. A Spanish war-vessel watched the operations, by night and day, the government being somewhat sensitive and suspicious ever since the flight of that Scotchman and his brigantine.
At last the American company was unable to get a renewal of its long drawn out concession, and for some time the galleons were left alone. It was in 1904, that Signor Don Carlos Iberti obtained the "Royal Decree of Concession" for the Pino Company, Limited, of Genoa, and now indeed there was to be treasure seeking in earnest.
"Until recently the search for the treasure in the Bay of Vigo seemed only an Utopian mania," cried Iberti. "Those who set about the arduous enterprise were taken for mad scientists, rascals, or deceivers of innocent speculators. But for my part I shall always admire those bands of adventurers who sought to recover this treasure, from the first day after the battle until the present time."