Charles Gould’s family lived in Costaguana for three generations before he was born. He followed in the footsteps of his forebears, who “went to England for their education and their wives” (36). Though he retains English cultural signifiers, Charles’s family history is deeply entwined in Latin America. His grandfather fought alongside Simón Bolívar in his revolutionary war against the Spanish Empire, while one of his uncles was briefly President of Sulaco until he was shot by rebels led by General Guzmán Bento. The Sulaco Blancos, the name given to local oligarchs of “pure Spanish descent” (37), consider Charles to be one of their own. Each day, he rides to the San Tomé mine, appearing detached from the political instability of the country. His wife, more emotionally affected by the recurring revolutions and brutality, struggles to understand his calm acceptance of events. Charles reminds her that he was born in the country. Their home becomes a gathering place for figures such as Don José Avellanos, an elderly statesman and family friend who praises Charles’s patriotism and speaks at length about the mine and national affairs during afternoon visits.

Mrs. Gould knows the grim history of the San Tomé mine. Originally worked through a brutal system of enslaved labor, it consumed entire indigenous communities before being abandoned. After independence, an English company revived the mine, only for its managers to be murdered amid political turmoil. The government confiscated the mine under a decree framed as justice against foreign oppression, then left it closed for years. Eventually, another government offered the perpetual concession to Charles Gould’s father as settlement for debts owed to him. The offer was a trap, requiring immediate payment of royalties on estimated output. Despite protests, Gould’s father was forced to accept.

Unprepared to operate the mine and unable to sell the concession, Gould’s father became obsessed with it. The stress affected his health, and he came to believe the mine was destroying him. His letters to his son Charles, then a schoolboy in England, increasingly focused on the mine, urging him never to return to Costaguana or claim the inheritance. As Charles matured, he developed a “strong fascination” (45) with mining. He trained in Europe with the intention of becoming a mining engineer and visited mines across the continent. After meeting Emilia in Italy, he shared with her his growing belief that his father had mishandled the concession. They talked about the subject “long and earnestly” (46). When news of his father’s death arrived, Charles concluded that the mine had “killed him” (47). Grieving, he resolved to confront the mine directly and make it a success.

After Charles and Emilia married, Charles explained that his family owned a large house in Sulaco, which would become their home. After settling there, Charles sought financial backing to restore the mine. He eventually secured the interest of a powerful American capitalist, Holroyd, who cautiously agreed to support the enterprise, emphasizing that his backing would be withdrawn if Charles failed to control political risks. After their departure, Charles prepared to return to the mine, and the couple discussed the conditions of Holroyd’s support. Charles insisted that he would never sell the concession merely for money, as his goal was to vindicate his father’s suffering. Charles explained that his father, isolated and trapped by the government, never truly understood him. He insisted that the mine was inseparable from his sense of duty. 

For both Charles and Emilia, their future is now bound to the mine’s fate. They see its success as essential to justifying their choices and redeeming the past, even as they acknowledge the immense political and personal risks involved.

Mrs. Gould shares her husband’s sense that the reopening of the San Tomé mine has introduced both excitement and danger into their lives. While Don Avellanos praises Charles’s courage and tact, Charles remains outwardly unmoved. Don José also praises Mrs. Gould as a “patriot” (65), a claim partly justified by her travels with her husband through the province in search of labor. Mrs. Gould accompanied Charles across the interior of Costaguana, riding at the center of a small armed cavalcade. Along the journey, she observed the vast landscape of plains, valleys, and distant mountains, as well as the daily labor of peasants, vaqueros, and Indigenous porters. She witnessed the quiet endurance of the population, shaped by hardship and political violence, and gained an understanding of the country beyond the Europeanized coast towns. During visits to haciendas and rural households, she experienced formal hospitality and heard repeated accounts of families ruined, imprisoned, or killed during civil wars. Everywhere, she found “a weary desire for peace” (66).

Despite the physical demands of the journey, Mrs. Gould earned the nickname the “Never-tired Señora” (67). Her exposure to rural life deepened her respect for the people and their patience. She noticed the remnants of colonial power in ruined churches and bridges, reminders of forced labor under past regimes. Meanwhile, Charles Gould conducted business with often corrupt local officials and political leaders. Charles maintained a policy of patient silence and restraint, refusing to engage in political rhetoric while insisting on his objectives. This manner unsettled successive provincial rulers, who realized that Charles enjoyed reliable support from higher authorities “no matter what party was in power” (69). As a result, he gained a reputation among foreigners as the “King of Sulaco” (69). 

Political affairs related to the mine are quietly handled through intermediaries. One such messenger is Bonifacio, who regularly carries “discreet” (71) packages by mule between Sulaco and the capital along dangerous routes. Though outwardly idle and carefree, Bonifacio proves reliable and loyal, becoming an unseen but essential link in the operations surrounding the San Tomé mine.

Sulaco retains its worn colonial appearance, but the mine had a “steadying effect” (72) on life. Labor unrest is minimal, largely because Nostromo, the Capataz de Cargadores, enforces order. After feast days, he rides through the slums at dawn, summoning cargadores by name and compelling them to work, sometimes by force. By sunrise, the port is active. The mine subtly alters the character of Sulaco’s crowds. Miners wear distinctive green-and-white clothing supplied cheaply by the administration, marking them as protected men. They are less likely to be abused by police or seized by army recruiters. Don Pepe, the retired major overseeing the mine’s territory, explains that forced enlistment remains common elsewhere, but the mine offers safety. Don Pepe is a respected figure in Sulaco society, frequenting both the Aristocratic Club and the Casa Gould. Though he knows nothing of mining, he governs the mine population like a military district, earning the affectionate title of “El Señor Gobernador” (75).

At the mine itself, Don Pepe supervises hundreds of Indigenous miners and their families spread across three villages in the gorge. He knows the workers individually and maintains order alongside Father Román, the priest, and Dr. Monygham, who runs the hospital but remains distant and bitter. The mine functions continuously, with water-driven turbines and stamps processing ore day and night. Families migrate steadily from the countryside, drawn by rumors of work and safety. Mrs. Gould has witnessed the entire development firsthand. She lives for long periods at the mine, observing the clearing of wilderness, the construction of roads, and the installation of machinery. She was present when the first ore was processed and when the first silver ingot was produced. Holding it, she regarded the metal as something more than wealth, connecting it to a larger moral justification for their enterprise. Don Pepe joked about bandits, but Mrs. Gould argued that such men are created by government “tyranny” (82). Don Pepe insisted that the silver must still be guarded by armed escort.

The transport of silver to Sulaco has become a ritual. Armed serenos escort padlocked carts down the mountain at dawn. The first time, Charles Gould rode ahead, Don Pepe guarded the rear, and the convoy thundered through Sulaco without stopping. Mrs. Gould watched from her balcony as the procession passed toward the harbor. Over time, the volume and frequency of these convoys increased, and each passage felt to the Goulds like another victory for “order and stability” (82).

The mine has become a center of power within the state. Rumors circulate that the San Tomé administration helped finance the revolution that brought Don Vincente Ribiera to power as President-Dictator. Foreign investors, including Sir John, recognize Charles Gould’s influence and rely on him to resolve local difficulties connected with railway construction. During Ribiera’s official visit to Sulaco, Ribiera speaks briefly of peace and legality, impressing Mrs. Gould but also unsettling her. General Montero, the military hero of the regime, follows with a crude toast linking national honor to the army and openly referencing Sir John’s loan. His manner alarms observers. Sir John responds diplomatically, aided by Don José Avellanos, and later agrees to Mrs. Gould’s request to spare Giorgio Viola’s house from demolition by the railway.

Afterward, Mrs. Gould reassures Giorgio, who decides to name his house Albergo d’Italia Uno (Hotel of One Italy) in memory of his fallen comrades in the fight for Italian unification. Nostromo appears, richly dressed and admired by the crowd. He speaks casually of guarding both Sir John and Gould’s silver. Moving into the festivities, the “indispensable” Nostromo becomes the center of attention, engaging in a public, volatile exchange with his lover during a dance celebration. The President departs Sulaco amid salutes and fireworks. Captain Mitchell later recalls that while these events seemed historical at the time (as he often remarks), they merely preceded a fatal chain of events in which Nostromo would again play a central role, one that would permanently change him.