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July 2, 2026July 2, 2026 justinrobinson British Coins, Coin History

LIMA Coins: Britain’s Captured Spanish Treasure

Few British coins tell such an extraordinary story as the silver and gold coinage struck between 1745 and 1746 and inscribed with the word LIMA. Every example represents a remarkable moment in British history, when treasure captured in battle on the high seas was transformed into coinage that celebrated one of Britain’s greatest naval triumphs.

In 1740, the British government entrusted Commodore George Anson with one of the most daring naval expeditions of the eighteenth century. Britain and Spain were bitter rivals, competing for control of trade and influence across Europe and the Americas. Spanish treasure ships carried enormous quantities of silver from the rich mines of Peru and present-day Bolivia to Europe. This silver funded the Spanish Crown and made these ships tempting targets for the Royal Navy and licensed privateers.

Portrait of a man in an ornate blue coat with gold trim, featuring a white cravat and curly hair. The background shows ships on water. — George Anson, 1st Baron Anson (1697-1762)

Anson’s orders were to lead a squadron into the Pacific Ocean, attack Spanish shipping, disrupt imperial trade routes and, if circumstances allowed, support operations against Spain’s possessions in South America. The voyage began in September 1740 with a squadron of Royal Navy warships accompanied by supply vessels carrying provisions and Royal Marines. The expedition promised glory, but from the outset it faced immense challenges.

Long before engaging the enemy, Anson’s crews battled disease, violent storms and the unforgiving seas around Cape Horn. Dysentery, typhus, malaria and scurvy swept through the ships, claiming hundreds of lives. Several vessels became separated during the hazardous passage, while others were forced to abandon the mission altogether. By the time Anson finally reached the Pacific, the expedition had been reduced to only a fraction of its original strength.

Although weakened by terrible losses, Anson continued his campaign. His remaining ships intercepted Spanish merchant vessels and raided coastal settlements, disrupting trade and capturing valuable cargo. Yet every success came at a heavy price. Disease continued to reduce the number of officers and sailors fit for duty. There were often too few men to crew both the Royal Navy ships and the prizes they captured, forcing Anson to destroy valuable vessels that could not be safely sailed away. Even keeping his flagship, HMS Centurion, seaworthy became an enormous challenge.

Many commanders would have returned home. Instead, Anson resolved to attempt one final and decisive victory. After refitting at Macau and allowing rumours to spread that he intended to sail back to Britain, Anson secretly laid plans to intercept one of Spain’s annual treasure galleons. Months of careful preparation followed. His crew devoted themselves to improving their gunnery, knowing that success would depend upon speed, discipline and accurate fire.

Their opportunity arrived in June 1743, when HMS Centurion sighted the treasure galleon Nuestra Señora de Covadonga sailing towards Manila. Although the British crew had endured almost four years at sea, they fought with remarkable precision. During a fierce engagement lasting around ninety minutes, the superior gunnery of Centurion overwhelmed the Spanish vessel, forcing her commander to surrender.

Two sailing ships with billowing sails and flags, navigating through rough sea waters under a dramatic sky filled with clouds and sunlight. — *HMS Centurion* battles *Nuestra Señora de Covadonga* on 20 June 1743

The scale of the prize astonished even the victors. Hidden within the captured ship were more than 1.3 million Spanish silver eight reales, the famous Pieces of Eight, together with approximately 35,000 ounces of silver bullion. It was one of the richest captures ever made by a British naval expedition.

Anson returned to Britain in 1744 after becoming the first Royal Navy commander to complete a circumnavigation of the globe. His triumph, however, had come at an enormous human cost. Of the 1,854 officers, sailors and marines who had departed with the expedition, only around 500 eventually returned. Disease had ultimately proved a far deadlier enemy than Spanish cannon.

The captured silver was transported to the Royal Mint in London, where contemporary reports describe long processions of wagons carrying the treasure through crowded streets as thousands of cheering Londoners gathered to witness the remarkable spectacle.

To commemorate the remarkable origin of the precious metal, the Royal Mint placed a single word beneath the bust of King George II on the obverse of selected gold and silver coins: LIMA. This small inscription referred to the city of Lima, then the administrative centre of Spain’s South American empire. Although much of the silver itself had originated in the famous mines of Potosí, it was shipped through Lima and associated with the immense wealth of Spanish Peru.

George II Silver Half Crown displaying the word LIMA (1746)

The LIMA inscription is one of the most famous provenance marks ever to appear on a British coin. Unlike a mint mark, which identifies where a coin was produced, a provenance mark records the origin of the precious metal itself. Such markings are exceptionally uncommon in British numismatics, making LIMA coins immediately recognisable to collectors.

Recent research has suggested that some of the precious metals used to strike coins bearing the LIMA inscription may have come from other British captures off the coast of Peru. Nonetheless, the successful capture of Spanish treasure demonstrated the reach of British ships across the world’s oceans and reinforced Britain’s position as an emerging global power. At a time when silver was essential to international trade, transforming captured Spanish treasure into British coinage carried immense political significance. Every LIMA coin, therefore, served as both a mark of origin and a powerful reminder that British naval power could interrupt Spanish trade and redirect its wealth into Britain’s own economy.

Today, LIMA coins remain highly sought-after because of their fascinating connection to an age of exploration, naval warfare and global commerce. They provide a direct link to one of the greatest naval exploits of the Georgian age and to precious metal captured in battle. Few British coins can claim such a dramatic provenance, connecting their owners directly with global exploration, maritime warfare and one of the richest spoils of war in history.

Alongside the celebrated VIGO coinage of 1703, the LIMA coins of 1745-1746 remain among the finest examples of how Britain chose to preserve its great naval achievements in precious metal. Nearly three centuries later, the famous inscription continues to remind collectors that history really can be held in the palm of a hand.

May 7, 2026May 8, 2026 justinrobinson British Coins, Coin History, European Coins, Medieval Coins

The Tragic Tale of Eloy Mestrelle

Before the sixteenth century, coins were produced in pretty much the same way as they had been in Ancient Greece. Metal would be heated until it was molten and poured into moulds before being allowed to cool. The blank piece (planchet) was then extracted from its mould and placed between two engraved metal dies. The upper die was then struck sharply with a hammer to produce an image on both sides. The process was repeated until the images produced on the coins fell below the required quality threshold, and it became necessary to replace the dies.

Artisans working in a historical workshop, crafting coins with hammers and metal tools, surrounded by wooden workbenches and stacks of shiny coins.

One of the problems associated with hammered coins is that it was difficult to produce coins of a regular diameter. Their irregular, non-uniform shapes made them particularly vulnerable to clipping, where criminals would cut slivers of precious metal off the edge of the coin before passing it on. The crime of clipping coins warranted the same punishment as counterfeiting – a death sentence.

When Elizabeth I became Queen on the death of her elder sister Mary in November 1558, she inherited a coinage crisis caused by the large number of badly worn, clipped and counterfeit coins in circulation. Coins struck during the first eighteen months of her reign failed to make much of an impact as the new coins were quickly seized by private collectors and thus failed to circulate, which proved Gresham’s law that “bad money drives out good”.

In 1560, the Queen ordered a recoinage to take place. Circulating money was recalled to the Tower of London to be melted down and transformed into new coins. The mint based there was restructured to better enable it to complete the task, and a Frenchman named Eloy Mestrelle was invited to travel to London with his family to set up the first mechanised coining press in England. The coins he produced that year would become the first non-hammered coins to enter circulation in Britain.

Mestrelle had learned his craft on the screw press at the French Mint at Versailles, and it appears that he may have arrived at the Tower under a cloud of suspicion. After appointing him to build and operate Britain’s first coining machine, the Queen also granted him a pardon “for all treasons, felonies and offences … in respect of clipping or counterfeiting coin” that may have occurred previously.

To create his coinage, Mestrelle poured molten silver into moulds, flattened the rough shapes with rollers and then punched out coin blanks of the correct size and weight. These were then placed between two specially created dies beneath a large 23-kilogram ram attached to a large cross-shaped handle. Rapidly rotating the handle slammed the dies together, which produced a perfectly struck coin with a milled edge to protect it from clippers.

A historical scene depicting men operating a large wooden press in a dimly lit room. Two men struggle with a heavy weight while another man sits beside a basket of coins. A fourth man works at a lower level near an opening in the floor.

The first English coins produced on the screw press in 1561 were the shilling, groat and half groat, and Mestrelle switched to sixpences and threepences when the new denominations were introduced later that year. The Queen was impressed enough with the new coins to award Mestrelle an annual pension of £25 in December 1561.

Though hammered coinage remained the bulk of the mint’s output, it is a testament to the superior quality of the milled sixpences struck in 1561 and 1562 that many thousands were still to be found in circulation well over a century later.

_{Milled shilling dated 1560-61}

The vast majority of milled coins produced at this time were silver, but there were also some gold half pounds, crowns and half-crowns produced. The Bishop of London, Edmund Grindal, referred to them in a letter written in June 1562 in which he described them as being made “in a manner resembling print”.

When Londoners were struck down by the plague during the summer of 1563, the mint was forced to shut down for nearly a year as people fled the city. When it reopened, silver was in short supply, and production was slow, with the bulk of the work going to the hammerers. It wasn’t until the end of 1566 that the production of milled coins resumed and the screw press began turning out milled threepences and sixpences again.

Mestrelle’s small team had worked independently of the manual coin hammerers, who may have feared that the new technology would shortly put them out of a job. He also failed to endear himself to mint officials, who favoured the traditional hammered production method as it was considerably cheaper. Milled coins were increasingly seen as an expensive curiosity and attracted sightseers to the Tower who wished to see the new technology in operation, which presented its own problems for security.

In September 1568, a member of Eloy’s family, Philip Mestrelle, was arrested and charged with making four counterfeit Burgundian crowns. Eloy was implicated in the scandal, and four months later, Philip was convicted and hanged at the Tyburn gallows. Eloy escaped prosecution and secured a second pardon from the Queen. However, the knives were out for the Frenchman, and it appears that a successful campaign to sabotage his output at the mint had begun.

Coins struck by Mestrelle from 1570 onwards are notably inferior in design detail, which may have been because some of his equipment had been confiscated by mint officials. Mestrelle may have attempted to express his frustrations to the Queen in the form of a small medal made to commemorate the defence of the kingdom. On the obverse with the Queen’s portrait is the inscription, QVID NOS SINE TE (What are we without thee). On the reverse, there is an image of a castle, possibly the Tower of London, with the message, QVID HOC SINE ARMIS (What is this without tools). As if to underline his poignant plea, the quality of the medal is poorer than his earlier coin work. However, if Mestrelle intended to alert the Queen to his mistreatment at the mint, there is no evidence that he was successful.

_{The ‘Defence of the Kingdom’ medal produced by Mestrelle}

In December 1571, a change of management at the mint neatly brought about the end of milled coinage at the Tower of London. Under the guise of an efficiency drive, the Warden of the Mint, Richard Martin, held a time trial to determine which technology could make the most coin blanks in one hour. While two men using Mestrelle’s equipment produced 22 blank sixpences, the hammerers produced 280. History does not record how many hammerers were involved in the trial, or why the trial didn’t involve the production of finished coins. It gave Martin the excuse he needed to seize the Frenchman’s machinery and forbid him from accessing the mint. Mestrelle was, however, permitted to retain his lodgings within the Tower, where he lived quietly with his family for the next five years.

The unemployed moneyer, faced with mounting debts, appears to have drifted into a life of crime. In October 1577, he was arrested in London and charged with counterfeiting. His possessions were seized, his house cleared, and his widowed mother and family turned out onto the street. Realising the severity of his predicament, he offered to divulge the names of former colleagues who were counterfeiting coins, but it was to no avail. In the spring of 1578, he found himself making the dreadful one-way journey to the gallows for an appointment with the hangman.

Mestrelle’s screw press equipment in the Tower of London was used occasionally, and remained a
curiosity for several years before it was allowed to fall into disrepair. It would be over a century before the hand hammerers would be threatened again by the new technology. As time went by, other uses were found for the superior milled coins. In the opening scene of his play, ‘The Merry Wives of Windsor’, first performed around 1600, Shakespeare refers to ‘mill-sixpences’ being used as gaming tokens. There is also evidence that they were used as love tokens, where two coins were bent together into an ‘S’ shape for each lover to carry with them.

The tragic tale of Eloy Mestrelle is a powerful reminder that progress often comes at great personal cost, and that those who introduce change are not always honoured in their lifetime. Though Mestrelle died in disgrace, the ideas he brought to Great Britain would ultimately outlast his enemies. In that sense, his fate was the unfortunate consequence of being ahead of his time. But his legacy is a lasting one, struck into the very future of British coinage.

March 26, 2026March 26, 2026 justinrobinson British Coins, Coin History, Monarchs

The Great Victorian Sixpence Scandal

Sherlock Holmes arrived too late to solve one of Britain’s most curious criminal enterprises – a scandal that centered around Queen Victoria herself.

But to be fair, it wasn’t his fault.

You see, the Great Detective made his debut in A Study in Scarlet in December 1887. Just six months earlier, the British Empire was shaken by a coinage blunder that led to one of the most widespread counterfeiting crime waves in British history.

To celebrate Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee in 1887, the mint marked the occasion with a new portrait of the 68-year-old monarch for the nation’s silver and gold coinage. They also took the opportunity to introduce elegant new heraldic reverse designs for some of the silver coins.

Queen Victoria’s ‘Young Head’ portrait (left) was replaced with the ‘Jubilee Head’ portrait (right) in 1887

For the sixpence, this was to cause a national scandal and lead to a costly and embarrassing recall.

For much of Queen Victoria’s reign, the reverse designs of her three smallest silver coins bore the denomination to assist with their identification. Each design followed a similar pattern, comprising a crown at the top, laurel branches at the sides, and the denomination clearly displayed at the centre.

The threepence had the numeral ‘3’, the sixpence the words ‘SIX PENCE’ and the shilling ‘ONE SHILLING’. Whilst not particularly imaginative, the designs helped the public tell the coins apart.

To accompany the Queen’s new Jubilee coin portrait, the mint decided to change the reverse designs on the silver coins (with the exception of the threepence which retained its numeral). Instead of expressing the denomination in words, the sixpence received an elegant heraldic design depicting the crowned Royal Arms on a shield.

The 1887 Silver Sixpence with Shield reverse

Unfortunately, no one at the mint noticed that the new sixpence design now closely resembled the crowned Royal Arms that appeared on the gold half-sovereign.

The 1887 Half Sovereign

The fact that both coins were almost exactly the same size and roughly the same weight did not go unnoticed by enterprising criminals across the country. They wasted no time in purchasing tins of gold-coloured paint in which to dip the new sixpences before passing them off as gold half sovereigns worth twenty-times more!

This meant that large numbers of fake half sovereigns quickly entered circulation, as well as an almost endless supply of sixpences which could be cheaply disguised and passed off as the more expensive gold coin.

What had begun as a thoughtful and delightful way to celebrate the Golden Jubilee of the monarch quickly spiralled into a national crisis which threatened to erode confidence in British coinage.

As the golden deception grew, the government was forced to withdraw all 1887 dated shield sixpences from circulation. These were melted down and restruck with their original reverse design which once again bore the words ‘SIX PENCE’, thereby ensuring that they couldn’t be so easily disguised as gold half sovereigns in the future.

The 1887 Sixpence with the restored ‘SIX PENCE’ reverse

This makes the 1887 shield sixpence one of Britain’s shortest-lived and most infamous coins, and any surviving examples are rare.

March 26, 2026March 26, 2026 justinrobinson Ancient Greece & Rome, Coin History, Medieval Coins

The Two Faces of Christ on the Gold Coins of Justinian II

Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire in 313 AD. The western part of the empire fell in 476, but the eastern (or Byzantine) empire, with its capital at Constantinople, would continue for another thousand years after that.

For centuries after his public execution, there was no consensus among artists on how to depict the face of Jesus of Nazareth. The Bible makes no mention of his physical appearance, preferring instead to focus on his words and actions. Contemporary Roman, Greek and Jewish accounts of his life provide us with no evidence either. The earliest known depictions of Christ reflect this uncertainty. In some illustrations, he has long hair and a beard. In others, he is clean-shaven with short, curly hair.

The two very different faces of Jesus that appear on coins struck during the reign of the Byzantine Emperor Justinian II show us that even at the beginning of the eighth century, there was still disagreement about how Jesus should be depicted. The older of the two coins struck in 692 AD depicts a long-haired and bearded Jesus, with a face so intricately detailed and full of character that it appears almost to have been sculpted from life.

A golden coin depicting a figure with a beard and cross behind the head on one side, and a female figure holding a staff on the reverse side. — Gold solidus of Justinian II (692-695 AD)

It has been suggested that the coin engraver based his work on the colossal statue of the bearded Zeus at Olympia as his inspiration. The statue appeared on Greek coins and was destroyed during the fifth century. However, it seems highly unlikely that a pious emperor would select the face of a Greek god to depict his Lord and Saviour. This presents us with a mystery. Who or what was the inspiration for the intricate design?

Over a century earlier, in 525 AD, a chance discovery by workers repairing a wall in the Mesopotamian city of Edessa changed the way that Christ would be depicted forever. High up on the wall, they stumbled upon a hidden niche, and within the small space, they found a container with a strip of linen carefully folded inside.

The city officials would have gazed in wonder at the sight that greeted them. Imprinted onto the linen was the unmistakable image of a long-haired, bearded man with large owl-like eyes, a long nose, and a moustache. How the image had been transferred appeared supernatural, and it was described as having been ‘not made by human hands’.

The people of Edessa knew immediately what the cloth was. According to the history of their city, disciples of Jesus of Nazareth had visited Edessa centuries earlier and entrusted the linen to King Abgar, one of the first rulers to embrace Christianity. However, after his death, the city reverted to paganism, and the cloth was quickly hidden away for its own protection. Now its chance rediscovery prompted rejoicing throughout the Kingdom, and pilgrims soon flocked to Edessa to see the true likeness of their Saviour mysteriously imprinted onto the cloth.

Depictions of the bearded face on the Edessa Cloth (or Mandylion) soon began to appear throughout the Christian world and became known as the ‘Pantocrator’ (all-powerful) image. Within a few years of the rediscovery, the Basilica in Ravenna, Italy, had a beautiful mosaic of Christ based on the distinctive face. At around the same time, St. Catherine’s Monastery at Mount Sinai, nearly three thousand miles away, received a new wall painting with features that also closely matched the face on the mysterious cloth.

A comparison of two religious images of Christ: on the left, a mosaic depiction with vibrant colors and a gold background, and on the right, a painted icon featuring a more naturalistic representation. — Basilica in Ravenna, Italy (left). Saint Catherine’s Monastery, Mount Sinai (right)

In 685 AD, Justinian II became the ruler of the Byzantine Empire at the age of sixteen. In the first years of his reign, he secured a very favourable peace treaty with the neighbouring Arab states in which they agreed on joint possession of Armenia, Iberia and Cyprus. The new détente, after decades of hostility, would have provided the emperor with access to the Mandylion at Edessa, which Muslims had occupied since 638 AD.

At first, Justinian’s coinage was conventional, but in 692 AD, he decided to place a front-facing portrait of Christ on the gold solidus, semissis and tresmissis, and the silver hexagram. The emperor would have called upon his most skilful engraver at the Constantinople Mint to undertake the task. This may have involved making a trip to Edessa to see the mysterious image up close. The Latin inscription accompanying the portrait, IHS CRISTOS REX REGNANTIUM, can be translated as ‘Jesus Christ, King of those who Reign’. On the reverse, the emperor is depicted standing and holding a cross, surrounded by the inscription DOMINUS JUSTINIANUS SERVUS CHRISTI, translated ‘Lord Justinian, Servant of Christ’.

The emperor’s unprecedented decision to depict Christ on his coins may have provoked neighbouring Muslims, who revere Christ as a prophet but reject His divine status. Despite waging war against the Byzantine Empire several decades earlier, wealthy Muslims used Byzantine gold coins in their transactions because they had a trusted weight. However, after Justinian II put the image of Christ on his coinage, Caliph Abd al-Malik ibn Marwan was compelled to issue the first Islamic gold dinar in 696 AD. Weighing 4.25 grams, the new Islamic dinar had a broadly similar weight to the solidus’ 4.5 grams, but was a significant departure from earlier Islamic coinage, which had previously imitated Byzantine designs.

The new dinar replaced all pictorial images with Arabic inscriptions declaring “No god but God, unique, He has no associate”, and “God is one, God is eternal, He does not beget nor is he begotten”. Furthermore, Abd al-Malik commanded that anyone who possessed Byzantine or Arab-Byzantine gold coins must hand them in to the mint for restriking or be punished by execution.

A gold coin featuring intricate Arabic inscriptions on both sides, likely related to Islamic history or culture. — Islamic gold dinar minted at Damascus, Syria in 697 AD

In 695 AD, Justinian II was overthrown in a military coup when his former General, Leontios, seized the throne. In Byzantine culture, the emperor reflected divine authority, and since God was perfect, an emperor had to possess no physical defects. Consequently, the ousted emperor suffered the indignity of having his nose cut off to render him ineligible from ever sitting on the throne again before being exiled to the Crimea. Leontios had Justinian’s coinage melted down and remade with his portrait, but three years later, he too fell victim to a coup, which put Admiral Apsimar on the throne, who reigned as Tiberius III. Meanwhile, Justinian arranged for a prosthetic nose to be fitted and formed an alliance with the pagan Bulgars to plot his political comeback, which he achieved spectacularly in 705 AD.

After being restored as emperor, Justinian II promptly had Leontios and Tiberius III executed for their treachery and arranged for new coins to be struck, once again depicting Christ on the obverse. However, the majestic image of the long-haired, bearded Pantocrater was replaced by a much more youthful-looking face, with thick curly short hair and a smaller beard. The image is often referred to as the ‘Syrian’ image after similar depictions have been found in the eastern Mediterranean. The Latin inscription, DOMINUS IESUS CHRISTUS REX REGNANTIUM, can be translated as ‘The Lord Jesus Christ is the King of Kings’.

Gold coins depicting two historical figures, one holding a book and the other holding a scepter, both with distinct features and attire. — The second image of Jesus to appear on the gold coins of Justinian II from 705AD. Note the globe that the emperor holds inscribed with the word PAX (peace)

Why Justinian II chose such a completely different image of Christ for the coins of his second reign has long been debated. The answer may lie in the fact that during his exile, the Arabs had taken advantage of the political instability in Constantinople to attack Byzantine territories in North Africa and Asia Minor. Leontios and Tiberius III proved incapable of preventing them. So, with the resumption of hostilities, Justinian II may well have found his access to the Mandylion in the Muslim-controlled city of Edessa barred.

Surviving examples of Justinian II’s earlier coins in Constantinople would have been difficult to source following the reign of two emperors keen to remove all traces of their predecessor. This would have made it difficult for Mint engravers to copy the previous design struck ten years earlier. It is also possible that Justinian II may have feared for the safety of the Mandylion in the hands of his enemies if he chose to venerate it on his new coinage. Perhaps this explains why the emperor chose to depict himself on the reverse of the new coin (with a normal nose incidentally), holding a globe inscribed with PAX (‘peace’). Later, Justinian added his young son Tiberius to the reverse, and the two of them hold up a cross together.

Gold coin depicting two figures holding a cross, wearing crowns and robes, with intricate details and symbols. — A new reverse design depicting Justinian II and his young son Tiberius ruling together appeared later in the reign.

It was the last time that this depiction of Christ with short curly hair and a thin beard would appear on Byzantine coins. The reign of Justinian II ended abruptly in 711 AD when another military coup, this time led by General Philippikos, assumed control of the empire. Knowing that mutilation and exile had not stopped Justinian II before, the new emperor began his reign by making sure that his predecessor, together with his six-year-old son, were put to death immediately.

The image of Christ would not appear on coins again for another 132 years. At that time, a major debate raged through the empire over the veneration of religious images (icons), specifically as the Old Testament forbids the creation of objects to worship (Exodus 20:4-5). Emperor Leo III banned all depictions of Christ in 726 AD and ordered their destruction, prosecuting anyone caught venerating them. The situation was not resolved until the Second Council of Nicaea met in 787 AD and defended the veneration of images by arguing that Christ had provided one of his own by miraculously imprinting his image onto the Edessa cloth.

In 843 AD Empress Theodora restored the image of the long-haired, bearded Jesus to Byzantine coinage, which by now had become the commonly accepted image of Christ throughout the Christian world.

A century after the debate regarding images was settled, an armed delegation from Constantinople arrived at Edessa and negotiated with city officials to take ownership of the sacred cloth in exchange for the release of two hundred high-ranking Muslim prisoners of war. On August 15th, 944, it arrived in Constantinople amidst great public rejoicing and was given a place of honour in the Pharos chapel of Constantinople’s Imperial Palace. Emperor Constantine VII personally inspected the cloth, and described the image as being “extremely faint, more like a moist secretion without pigment or the painter’s art”.

A large crowd gathers in a decorated plaza, celebrating with festive banners. In the foreground, a group of individuals raises a beautifully ornate box, possibly symbolizing a religious artifact, while others cheer and express joy. Lavishly designed buildings and domes are visible in the background, indicating a significant cultural or religious event. — The Edessa cloth bearing the mysterious image of Jesus not made by human hands is welcomed in Constantinople on 15 August 944 AD

The cloth was initially considered too holy to be put on public display. One dignitary who received a private viewing was Gregory Referendarius, the Archdeacon of the Hagia Sophia in Constantinople, who preached a sermon declaring that Christ had “imprinted the reflection of his form on the linen”. Later, in 1130 a monk named Orderic Vitalis declared that the mysterious cloth of Jesus bore “the majestic form of his whole body … supernaturally transferred”.

Over seventy years later, a French visitor to the city, Robert de Clari, witnessed a weekly ceremony in which “the Shroud in which our Lord had been wrapped … every Friday was raised upright so one could see the figure of our Lord on it”.

In 1204, Constantinople was attacked and plundered by the French-led Fourth Crusade. Many priceless treasures from antiquity were destroyed as the Crusaders rampaged through the city seizing anything of value. It was reported shortly afterwards that “they have taken many relics, including the linen in which our Lord was wrapped’, and the whereabouts of the mysterious cloth with its enigmatic, supernaturally transferred image of Christ, would remain a mystery for the next 145 years.

March 26, 2026March 26, 2026 justinrobinson Coin History, European Coins, Shipwrecks, U.S. Coins

The Lost Coins that Changed the World – The Story of El Cazador

History is not only shaped by rulers, wars, and treaties, but by fragile moments of chance. Few objects illustrate this truth more powerfully than the silver coins carried aboard the Spanish ship El Cazador. They were intended to stabilise a troubled colony and strengthen the grip of an empire thousands of miles away. Instead, their loss played a pivotal role in empowering another empire and shaping the map of the United States of America.

A detailed painting of a classic sailing ship with billowing white sails navigating through choppy ocean waters under a cloudy sky, featuring flags on the mast. — El Cazador

A Colony On The Brink

The story begins in the closing years of the eighteenth century, when the vast North American territory called Spanish Louisiana faced mounting economic instability. The region, which stretched across what is now Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana, formed part of the Spanish Empire. It relied on paper currency that was not backed by silver or gold, making it extremely unreliable and vulnerable to inflation. Confidence in the colonial administration was fragile, and the financial situation threatened Spain’s hold on the region.

Recognising the need to stabilise the local economy, King Carlos III of Spain (r.1759-1788) authorised a substantial shipment of hundreds of thousands of newly minted silver coins. These comprised reales, pesos and smaller denominations, including large quantities of eight-reales, famously known as ‘Pieces of Eight’, respected around the world for their reliability. Their purpose was clear: to inject hard currency into the colony, stabilise trade, and reaffirm Spain’s authority in North America.

To deliver this fortune, the king selected a trusted sea captain, Gabriel de Campos y Pineda, to command the brigantine El Cazador. The ship sailed to Veracruz in Mexico to receive her precious cargo. On 11 January 1784, the now heavy-laden ship began the final leg of her journey to New Orleans but never arrived, most likely falling victim to a powerful storm. The El Cazador, her crew, and her cargo were declared lost later that year. What was meant to be a financial lifeline had instead become a silent casualty of the sea.

Portrait of a smiling man in ornate armor and a red sash, standing with one arm extended, against a backdrop of draped fabric. — King Carlos III of Spain

Global Consequences

The loss of El Cazador could not have come at a worse time for Spain. Without the silver needed to restore economic confidence, Spanish Louisiana remained financially unstable and costly to administer. By 1800, Spain had decided that the territory had become a burden rather than an asset, and it quietly handed the land over to France under a secret treaty.

Just three years later, in 1803, the French Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte sold the land to President Thomas Jefferson for $15 million in what became known as the Louisiana Purchase. This single transaction doubled the size of the United States and permanently altered the geopolitical balance of North America. The absence of El Cazador’s silver had helped set this chain of events in motion.

Had the coins aboard El Cazador safely reached New Orleans, the story may have unfolded very differently. A stronger Louisiana economy would likely have strengthened Spanish control by restoring confidence in the currency and government. This could have delayed or even prevented the Louisiana Purchase. In that alternate history, the expansion of the United States, and perhaps the geopolitical balance of North America itself, could have taken a very different course.

Furthermore, the shifting ownership of Louisiana was tied to the growing alliance between Spain and France. Had Spain been in a stronger financial position and not given the territory to France, Napoleon would not have been able to sell it to the United States, and his imperial ambitions could have been severely impacted. In this sense, the coins of El Cazador represent one of history’s great “what ifs.”

Salvaged Treasure

For more than two centuries, the wreck of El Cazador and her valuable cargo lay undisturbed at the bottom of the sea. Then, on 2 August 1993, chance intervened once again. A commercial fishing trawler aptly named Mistake snagged its net in waters approximately fifty miles south of New Orleans. When the damaged net was hauled aboard, it was tangled with silver coins.

Subsequent investigation revealed the remarkable truth: the crew had accidentally discovered the wreck of El Cazador, resting at a depth of around 90–100 metres. The coins were identified as Eight‑Reales that had been struck at the Spanish mint in Mexico in 1783, conclusively linking them to the long‑lost shipment. Most of the remaining cargo was later successfully recovered, returning these historic coins to the surface after more than 200 years underwater.

A wooden box filled with various types of clams, with a person's hand reaching in to scoop some out. There is a yellow bucket beside the box. — Silver coins salvaged from El Cazador

The Eight‑Reales: A Coin That Shaped Commerce

The Eight-Reales coin, struck at the Spanish mint in Mexico and retrieved from the wreck of El Cazador, is a beautiful example of Spanish colonial silver. The denomination was widely accepted across Europe, the Americas, and Asia, and became one of the world’s most important coins. It also played a foundational role in early American commerce, circulating alongside and sometimes in place of local coinage.

The coin’s design also left a lasting cultural imprint. The reverse depicts the Pillars of Hercules wrapped with a ribbon, a motif believed by some scholars to have inspired the modern dollar symbol ($). Whether or not this link is definitive, it underscores the profound influence the coin has had on global monetary history.

The Eight-Reales

A Tangible Connection to History

Coins recovered from El Cazador enable us to hold history in our hands. Few artefacts can claim such an influence on the shaping of world events. Each coin recovered from the wreck bears subtle traces of its long immersion beneath the sea, adding to its authenticity and fascination. These marks serve as quiet reminders of their doomed voyage and the extraordinary forces which have tied them to history.

The treasure of El Cazador provides us with a tangible connection to a dramatic chapter of maritime history, which saw a group of sailors embark upon a perilous and ultimately doomed journey with a cargo that carried the economic ambitions of an empire. The silver coins promised economic stability, greater political leverage, and a stronger Spanish presence in North America. Their loss weakened one empire, strengthened another, and helped shape the modern United States.

The story of the El Cazador serves as a powerful reminder that history does not always turn on grand battles, noble deeds or famous speeches. Sometimes, it turns on a ship that never arrives, a cargo lost to the sea, and silver coins that fail to reach their destination. Today, the coins recovered from El Cazador stand as a silent witness to a turning point in history that changed the world forever.

January 11, 2024January 11, 2024 justinrobinson Coin History

How is the Nobel Peace Prize Medal Made?

The Mint of Norway has struck the prestigious Nobel Peace Prize Medal ever since the award began in 1901. Today, it is struck in Fairmined Gold. In this fascinating video, see how the Mint of Norway makes the medal, which still bears its original design, by sculptor Gustav Vigeland.

June 1, 2023February 29, 2024 justinrobinson Coin History, Shipwrecks

The Treasure from the SS City of Cairo

In 2013, Deep Ocean Search Ltd, a British-led team, successfully retrieved £34 million of silver coins from a shipwreck in the South Atlantic ocean. Working at a depth of 3.2 miles, the operation set the world record for the deepest salvage of cargo in history. When the news was made public in 2015, it was widely reported that the recovered coins had all been melted down. But in reality, a small number were saved from the melting-pot. Collectors now have a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to own treasure from this record-breaking operation and hold history in their hands.

On a cold November evening in 1942, the SS City of Cairo, a British passenger steamship traveling from India to the UK, was torpedoed and sunk by a German U-Boat in the middle of the South Atlantic. At the time of her sinking, few people knew that she was carrying top-secret cargo. A huge consignment of silver coins, which had circulated for decades through British India, was being transported to Britain to be melted down for their high silver content.

As men, women and children struggled in the water, the U-boat that had sunk them surfaced alongside them. Commander Karl-Frederich Merten informed them that the nearest land was the small island of Saint Helena, 480 miles to the north-northeast. Privately, he considered their chances of reaching land or being rescued at sea to be almost zero, and U-boats were forbidden from attempting to rescue civilians on enemy ships. Merten concluded the conversation by saying, “Goodnight. Sorry for sinking you”, and then sailed away into the night.

With no distress signal having reached the mainland, meagre rations and only one sextant to navigate their course, the prospects for the 296 survivors huddled together in six damaged and overcrowded lifeboats looked bleak. Yet astonishingly, people were rescued from all six lifeboats. Four lifeboats were picked up after spending thirteen days in the shark-infested waters. Sadly, rescue came too late for many in the two remaining boats. A German vessel picked up three survivors after 36 days, though one later died of her injuries. The last lifeboat remained at sea for 52 days before it was spotted off the coast of Brazil. By that time, only two occupants were still alive.

Of the 302 people who sailed on the last voyage, six were lost on the night of the sinking. Sadly, 93 more would perish in the lifeboats as they waited for rescue, and a further eight would die shortly after being rescued. Against all expectations, 195 men, women and children survived their ordeal and made it safely back onto dry land.

For nearly seventy years, the wreck of the SS City of Cairo and her top secret cargo lay undisturbed on the ocean floor. Then, in November 2011, a company called Deep Ocean Search Ltd began searching for the ship, having been authorised by the UK Ministry of Transport to recover the silver coins on board.

The plan to search for the ship and salvage her lost treasure was the brainchild of deep-sea salvage pioneer John Kingsford, who set up the company. In 1984, he read an account of the sinking by one of the survivors, the ship’s surgeon, Dr Douglas Quantrill, who described seeing boxes of silver coins after the torpedo had blown off the hatches in hold number four.

Secret government papers confirmed that the ship had been carrying silver on her last voyage. A despatch from Embarkation Bombay to the War Office established that she left Bombay (now Mumbai) with 2,182 boxes of silver coins weighing 122 tonnes. DOS researchers scoured key documents about the sinking as they became publicly available. Military records from both sides provided details of how the ship had sunk and the likely location of the wreck.

The scale of the challenge facing the team was formidable. The ship’s last recorded position was about 1,000 miles off the coast of West Africa, where the weather, swell, and currents are extremely changeable. Furthermore, there were contradictions between the last known positions of the ship given by the U-boat and the ship’s officers. It meant that the team, which included twenty French oceanographers, would have to search an area of the ocean floor that was around twice the size of London.

A salvage operation at a depth of over five kilometres had never been successfully accomplished before. Nonetheless, Kingsford believed it was possible and signed a contract with the British Government authorising him to search and retrieve the lost silver treasure.

Deep Ocean Search took the survey and salvage vessel John Lethbridge, equipped with sonar and robotics, to the target area and began scanning the seabed for signs of the wreck. On board was a remotely operated underwater vehicle (ROV) capable of working in extreme depths and 11,000 meters of sonar cable which tethered it to the ship. It was slow and laborious work. The ocean floor was littered with rocks and canyons, and the team watched the monitor screen intently as the ROV sent back video. It would take a highly experienced eye to spot a man-made object amongst all the naturally occurring features.

After several weeks of scanning, the team identified a small target that didn’t appear to be a natural occurrence. Kingsford was initially unconvinced that it was the SS City of Cairo because it didn’t correspond to his expectations of how the wreck should look. However, he trusted his team’s view that the seabed looked disturbed, and the curious anomaly was deemed worthy of further investigation. Closer inspection revealed that it was indeed a shipwreck that had broken into two parts and was partially buried in the silt and mud on the ocean floor. But was this the ship they were looking for?

Images of the wreck site revealed no visible name or builder’s plaque to identify it. So, the team had to analyse photographs and plans of the SS City of Cairo to determine that they had found their target. Eventually, after six frustrating hours, they were able to make a positive identification using the ship’s porthole formation. Then, to confirm their discovery, they saw silver rupees struck with the portraits of British monarchs in hold number four, where they had laid undisturbed for 69 years.

_{Silver coins from the SS City of Cairo wreck}

The ship had come to rest at a depth of 5,150 metres (nearly 17,000 feet) which meant that any successful recovery of coins from the site would enter the record books as the deepest salvage of cargo from a shipwreck. By comparison, the RMS Titanic lies at a depth of 3,800 metres (12,500 feet).

Working remotely 3.2 miles beneath the waterline, Kingsford’s team overcame huge technical and logistical challenges to bring almost 100 tons of the silver coins to the surface. The operation took eight months, finally reaching completion in September 2013. Before leaving the wreck for the last time, the ROV left a plaque honouring those who had died. It read,

“We came here with respect.”

The recovered coins worth £34 million were handed over to the UK Treasury as per their contracted agreement, and Deep Ocean Search received a share of the sale. When the British authorities permitted the news to be made public in 2015, it was widely reported that all of the silver rupees had been melted down.

However, that wasn’t entirely accurate.

When the momentous news broke that silver rupees had been recovered from the SS City of Cairo wreck, the Samlerhuset Group began a six-year quest of their own to rescue some of the coins for collectors before they all went into the melting pot. Realising that their customers would welcome the opportunity to own treasure recovered from the deepest cargo salvage in history, the European coin company approached Deep Ocean Search and asked to purchase a batch of the coins.

Their persistence eventually paid off. Almost 22,000 Indian rupees from the record-breaking salvage operation have now been professionally conserved by industry experts, giving international collectors a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to own these salvaged coins and hold history in their hands.

_{Coins recovered from the SS City of Cairo}

Speaking about the sale, John Kingsford said,

“It is our wish that the history and amazing story of the SS City of Cairo continues to live on through the silver coins that survived her tremendous ordeal. We are delighted to confirm that the last surviving coins from her treasure have been saved from being smelted and have been professionally restored and made available to collectors worldwide.”

_{An Edward VII silver rupee recovered from the SS City of Cairo}

The operation to recover the coins from a depth of over five kilometres will forever stand as a triumph of human engineering, ingenuity, and skill. Furthermore, each salvaged coin from the top-secret cargo provides a tangible connection with the people who used them in British India and who unknowingly travelled with them on the final voyage of the SS City of Cairo.

April 14, 2022April 14, 2022 justinrobinson Ancient Greece & Rome, Coin History

Roman Britannia

History does not record the name of the engraver who first depicted Britannia on coins. She appeared for the first time during the reign of Emperor Hadrian (117-138 AD), and is presented as a rather forlorn figure, with one hand resting on her chin as if she is contemplating her fate under Roman occupation. In some coins she appears to be wearing a rainproof, hooded woollen cloak known as a birrus Brittanicus, which was popular amongst native Britons to protect them from the inclement weather. Britannia sits with her foot on a pile of rocks, holding a spear and with a large spiked shield at her side.

_{Britannia, depicted during the reign of the Emperor Hadrian.}

Hadrian is, of course, best remembered for building the impressive 73 mile stone wall across the north of England, which ran from coast to coast and marked the northwest frontier of his Empire. Perhaps this is what Britannia is guarding on the coin, ready to repel any invaders who try to breach the defences.

Hadrian’s decision to depict Britain as a female warrior may have been inspired by events that took place in Britain fifty-six years before his reign began. In 60-61 AD, Rome was left reeling from a series of devastating attacks that killed many thousands of their citizens living in this remote outpost of the Empire. The uprising was led by Queen Boudica of the Iceni tribe, who achieved what the Romans had thought impossible and united previously warring Celtic tribes against their common enemy.

_{Statue of Queen Boudica in London – © Anhad Arora}

Under her command, the Celts fought with a ferocity that took the occupiers completely by surprise and had burned down the thriving cities of Colchester, London and Saint Albans before the Romans could assemble a sufficient number of soldiers to crush their revolt.

During the final battle, it was reported that Queen Boudica drove her war chariot between the tribes shouting encouragement and spurring them on. When all hope of victory was lost, legend has it that she took poison rather than be captured. Her inspirational leadership, daring to challenge the might of the Emperor and refusal to take prisoners or become one herself earned her the respect of Rome, who considered her a worthy adversary, made all the more remarkable because she was also a woman.

Looking again at Hadrian’s coin, it is not a great stretch of the imagination to see Britannia seated next to the large wheel of a sythed war chariot, which Queen Boudica is believed to have driven.

_{Queen Boudica in her war chariot with her daughters}

A similar design appeared on coins issued by Hadrian’s successor, Antoninus Pius (138-161 AD) who, unlike Hadrian, never visited Britain. His army successfully pressed further north and built the 39 mile long Antonine Wal. It spans what is today known as the Central Belt of Scotland between the Firth of Clyde to the Firth of Forth. Constructed primarily in turf and timber, the Antonine Wall took about twelve years to complete and was abandoned after only eight years.

On some coins, Britannia is depicted holding a Roman military standard alongside her spear. This arguably reflects the Emperor’s pride in securing this remote region of his empire for the glory of Rome.

_{Britannia holding a shield and Roman military standard on a coin issued under Antonius Pius}

Britannia continued to appear intermittently on Roman coins throughout the Roman occupation of Britain. During the reign of Commodus (177-192AD), she was depicted standing with a sword in one hand and a helmet in the other. However, after the Romans withdrew from Britain at the beginning of the fifth century, it would be more than a millennium before she would appear on a coin again.

April 12, 2022April 12, 2022 justinrobinson British Coins, Coin History

Britannia Returns!

In 1661, King Charles II invited three Dutch brothers to move to London to join the Royal Mint as engravers. Their father, Philip Roettiers, a goldsmith in Antwerp, had loaned money to Charles during his time in exile and had been promised employment for his sons when the monarchy was restored. The royal invitation announcing the appointment of John, Joseph and Philip Roettiers stated that they were to be employed on account of the King’s long experience of their great skill and knowledge “in the arts of graveing and cutting in stone”.

Though it would appear that the appointment was made to return a favour, there is no doubt that all three brothers were extremely talented engravers. Within a year of arriving in London, John Roettiers (1631–1703) had been appointed one of the mint’s chief engravers and entrusted with the task of preparing the nation’s coinage. His younger brother Joseph, who acted as his principal assistant, later became engraver-general of the French mint in 1682. Their youngest brother, Philip, became engraver-general of the mint of the King of Spain in the Low Countries.

John Roettiers quickly acquired a reputation as one of the finest engravers ever employed at the mint. In 1666, the diarist Samuel Pepys visited him at his studio in the Tower of London, where he saw “some of the finest pieces of work, in embossed work, that ever I did see in my life, for fineness and smallness of the images thereon.” Pepys was so impressed that he resolved to take his wife to see them (Diary, 26 March 1666).

In addition to designing coins, Roettiers produced a new great seal of the kingdom of Great Britain and a large number of important medals. One commemorated the Peace of Breda, which marked the end of the second Anglo-Dutch War in 1667. The large (56mm diameter) medal was struck in gold, silver and bronze, and the obverse was a portrait of the King, wearing a laurel wreath in his long hair. For the reverse design, Roettiers drew inspiration from an ancient coin, first struck during the reign of Emperor Hadrian during the Roman occupation of Britain in the second century.

That design depicted Britannia, the female personification of Britain, dressed in flowing robes and seated by rocks, with a shield in one arm and a large shield at her side. On the Roman coin, she rested her chin on one hand as if contemplating her fate under occupation. Roettiers gave her an olive branch to hold instead, to convey her desire for peace. She continues to hold a spear, and Roettiers emblazoned her shield with the Flag of Great Britain to symbolise the union of England and Scotland. Her proud gaze is fixed on a British Royal Navy ship as it sails out to sea to join others in the fleet on the horizon. The inscription can be translated as, “By the favour of God”.

_{The Peace of Breda Medal by John Roettiers, 1667}

According to Pepys, Roettiers modelled his Britannia on Frances Teresa Stewart, the Queen’s lady in waiting, who became the Duchess of Richmond later that year. If correct, it was an inspired choice by the artist to secure royal approval for his work. When the sixteen-year-old Frances arrived at the royal court in 1661, she quickly attracted the attention of the King, who doted on her and tried unsuccessfully to make her his mistress. When Pepys saw her in the flesh, he described her as the greatest beauty he had ever seen and was in no doubt when he saw the medal that she had been the artist’s muse.

“At my goldsmith’s did observe the King’s new medall, where, in little, there is Mrs. Steward’s (sic) face as well done as ever I saw anything in my whole life, I think: and a pretty thing it is, that he should choose her face to represent Britannia by.”
Pepys Diary, 25 February 1667

_{Frances Teresa Stuart, believed to have been the inspiration for Roettiers’ Britannia}

The medal was a little premature in celebrating the end of the Anglo-Dutch War. Four months after Pepys had marveled at the design,a flotilla of Dutch ships brazenly sailed up the River Medway near Rochester to launch a devastating attack on the English navy in their home port. Thirteen English ships were destroyed by fire, and the Dutch captured and towed away HMS Unity and HMS Royal Charles, considered the pride of the English fleet. The war finally came to an end in July 1667 with the signing of the Treaty of Breda.

Roettiers design of Britannia was so well received that he was asked to adapt it for the reverse of the first copper halfpennies and farthings issued from 1672. It marked the return of Britannia on coins after an absence of more than a millennia. The transition to the smaller surface area meant that the artist had to simplify his design considerably. The maritime setting was lost, along with the ships under Britannia’s watchful gaze. The coins depict her with the Union Flag emblazoned shield at her side, an olive branch in one hand and a spear in the other.

_{The Charles II halfpenny from 1672 marked the return of Britannia on the nation’s coinage}

Roettiers reputation continued to grow. The diarist John Evelyn described him as “that excellent graver … who emulates even the ancients in both metal and stone” (Diary, 20 July 1678). However, in later life, his Catholic sympathies led to him being removed from the engravers house at the Tower of London. In 1696, a House of Commons committee reported that, as a violent papist, he was unfit to remain as custodian of the dies, and he was forced to seek lodgings elsewhere for the last years of his life. When he died in 1703, permission was granted for him to be buried in the Tower that had been his home for thirty-five years.

The inspired decision to return Britannia to the nation’s coinage began an ongoing tradition of depicting her on British coins of the realm. Roettiers design would continue to appear on copper coins until 1775.

April 11, 2022April 28, 2022 justinrobinson British Coins, Coin History

Full Steam Ahead! Britain’s Cartwheel Coins

The Industrial Revolution, which began in the middle of the eighteenth century, transformed Great Britain’s need for money. People living off the land in rural regions of the country had always been largely self-sufficient. They grew their own food, made their own clothes and bartered with their neighbours for everything else. However, as more and more people streamed into the new urban areas looking for work in the factories, so the need for good quality money to pay their wages became acute.

An official examination of coins in circulation in 1786 confirmed that the nation’s coinage was in a shocking state; badly worn, barely legible, underweight and mostly fake. It was determined that only about eight per cent of ‘halfpennies’ in circulation were genuine, and coins were often so badly worn that it was impossible to discern whether they were foreign, counterfeits or decades old. A population explosion between 1750 and 1800 did not help matters, putting additional pressure on the already inadequate coinage. Genuine coins were often hoarded, with the fakes spent first, thereby proving Gresham’s Law that “bad money drives out good”.

Matthew Boulton (1728 – 1809) was one of the founding fathers of the Industrial Revolution. Together with his business partner, the Scottish inventor James Watt, they developed and championed steam engine technology which powered the new factories and introduced a new era of transportation via the railways.

_{Matthew Boulton and James Watt appear together on the UK £50 note}

The Royal Mint responded to the crisis by effectively shutting down and producing no copper coins at all between 1775 and 1821. It was left to others to come up with a solution to the problem of inadequate coinage. Some enterprising business owners began making copper tokens, which could be redeemed by their employees in company shops. Unlike coins, tokens did not require the value of the metal to match the face value of the coin, and so they could be struck in large quantities at little cost. Provided the tokens did not resemble official coins, they were also completely legal to produce.

In 1788 Boulton installed a set of steam-driven coin presses at his Soho Manufactory in Handsworth, Birmingham. Each was made to his patented specifications and could strike up to 84 coins per minute. Boulton had shares in several Cornish copper mines, which gave him access to large quantities of the metal when the mines could not sell it elsewhere.

In addition to producing copper tokens and medals, the Soho Mint also signed lucrative contracts to strike coins for India, Sierra Leone and Russia. They also produced high-quality coin blanks for mints around the world to strike into coins. Over twenty million blanks were produced for the US Mint in Philadelphia, where Mint Director Elias Boudinot described them as “perfect and beautifully polished”.

Despite these successes, Boulton’s attempts to persuade the Treasury to let him use his pioneering steam-powered technology to strike new British copper coins repeatedly fell on deaf ears. He championed his machines at every opportunity, declaring that;

“(they) will coin much faster, with greater ease, with fewer persons, for less expense, and more beautiful than any other machinery ever used for coining … It strikes the pieces perfectly round, all of equal diameter, and exactly concentric with the edge, which cannot be done by any other machinery now in use.”
Matthew Boulton

On 14th April 1789, Boulton wrote to the Treasury to complain that two-thirds of the halfpennies he received in his change as he travelled around the country were counterfeit. He offered to produce new copper coins at half the cost incurred by the Mint, but his offer was ignored.

Boulton continued to pester the Treasury for the next eight years until he was awarded a contract to strike copper pennies and two pennies. They had to weigh one and two ounces respectively, so that the costs of the metal and production would match the denominational value. The Treasury hoped that this would restore the public’s confidence in the currency by making them uneconomical to counterfeit. This would encourage people to reject fake coins when they received them in their change.

Boulton’s 1797 dated copper coins were unlike anything people had seen before. The first coins to be struck using steam power were by far the largest and heaviest coins ever to circulate in Britain, with the penny weighing in at one ounce (28.3g) and measuring 36mm in diameter. The two penny weighed two ounces (56.7g) and had a diameter of 41mm. Both coins featured the same design by the Soho Mint’s sole artist and engraver, Conrad Heinrich Küchler (c.1740-1810).

In addition to creating a new portrait of the King for the obverse, Küchler, a German immigrant, also presented a new maritime interpretation of the female personification of Britain. Britannia now sits on an island surrounded by water to convey Britain’s supremacy of the seas.

To reinforce the maritime theme, Küchler removed the spear that Britannia had carried since her first appearance on coins struck during the reign of the Emperor Hadrian during the Roman occupation of Britain in the second century. In its place, he gave her a trident, like the one wielded by Neptune, the god of the sea. In her other hand, she holds out an olive branch as a symbol of peace. To complete the design, a ship sails by on the horizon to symbolise Britain’s naval dominance. The ship is believed to represent a warship, with its gun ports visible. The small mint mark of the Soho Mint (the word ‘SOHO’) can be seen in the rock below Britannia’s shield.

The ship and the ‘SOHO’ mint mark that appear in the Britannia design

The new coins marked the first time that Britannia had appeared on the penny and two pence. Both denominations were struck with tremendous accuracy to a very high-quality standard. To further frustrate the counterfeiters, each coin had a broad raised rim on each side with letters and numbers stamped into it, which earned them the nickname ‘cartwheels’. Although fraudsters did try to imitate the coin, their efforts were largely unsuccessful. However, once the novelty had worn off, people began to appreciate just how impractical they were in their pockets and purses.

Eventually, the widespread use of lightweight copper tokens convinced the Treasury that the public would accept and even prefer coins with a face value above the cost of the metal made to produce them. When more copper pennies were required in 1806, Boulton was permitted to make them smaller and lighter. Küchler’s maritime Britannia later appeared on copper farthings, and halfpennies struck at Boulton’s Soho Mint in 1799 and again in 1806.

Matthew Boulton provided Britain with a supply of reliable copper coinage for the first time and ably demonstrated that his new steam-powered technology could produce coins of exceptional quality and accuracy in large numbers at a relatively low cost. After he died in 1809, his colleague paid tribute to his business partner in a eulogy, declaring;

“Had Mr. Boulton done nothing more in the world than he has accomplished in improving the coinage, his name would deserve to be immortalised.”
James Watt

By the time new copper coins were required in 1821, the Royal Mint in London was ready and willing to produce them once again.