British Coins – The Coins & History Foundation

July 9, 2026July 9, 2026 justinrobinson British Coins, Coin History, European Coins

The Curious Case of the Bank of England Dollar

When people think of British coins, the familiar names quickly come to mind. The sovereign, the shilling, the penny and the crown are all woven into the fabric of Britain’s history. Yet hidden among these famous denominations is one of the most unusual coins ever to circulate in Britain.

The Bank of England Dollar.

At first glance, the name seems like a mistake. Britain has never used the dollar as its national currency, so why did the Bank of England issue a dollar? The answer lies in a time of war, economic uncertainty and national crisis, when the government found itself desperately short of silver and was forced to take extraordinary measures.

The story of the Bank of England Dollar is one of ingenuity, necessity and industrial innovation. It is also a tale that brings together naval warfare, Spanish treasure, pioneering minting technology, and one of the most remarkable industrialists Britain has ever produced.

The closing years of the eighteenth century were among the most turbulent in British history. Europe had been plunged into conflict, and Britain entered what would become the long and costly French Revolutionary Wars in 1793. The conflict placed enormous strain on the nation’s finances. Government spending soared, trade was disrupted, and precious metals became increasingly scarce.

The problem was particularly severe when it came to silver coinage, which was the lifeblood of everyday commerce. Workers were paid in silver, shopkeepers depended upon it, and markets could not function without a plentiful supply of small change. Yet by the late eighteenth century, Britain faced a severe shortage. The intrinsic value of silver coins had risen to the point where many coins were melted down for their bullion value. Others disappeared overseas through trade. Counterfeiting was widespread, and many of the coins that remained in circulation were badly worn.

By the end of the century, the shortage had become acute. Businesses struggled to make payments, and everyday transactions became increasingly difficult. Britain needed more silver coins, but the Royal Mint lacked both the resources and the capacity to solve the problem quickly. The government needed an emergency solution.

The answer came from an unexpected source. For centuries, the Spanish Empire had struck enormous quantities of silver coins using precious metal extracted from the mines of Mexico and South America. The famous Spanish eight-reales piece, often called pieces of eight, became one of the world’s first truly international currencies. It circulated throughout Europe, Asia and the Americas and was accepted almost everywhere. Britain possessed large quantities of these Spanish dollars. Many had entered the country through trade, and others had been captured from enemy vessels during the wars against France and Spain.

In 1797, the Bank of England, with official authorisation from the government, decided to press these foreign coins into British service. Rather than melting them down and using the metal to strike entirely new coins, the government initially countermarked the Spanish coins with a small oval (later octagonal) punch depicting a miniature portrait of King George III. However, this emergency measure proved only partially successful. Counterfeiting quickly became a problem, and the small countermark was easy for a forger to imitate. A more sophisticated solution was required.

_{Countermarked coin with small portrait of George III}

That solution would emerge from one of the most remarkable industrial enterprises in Britain. The Soho Mint was the creation of the industrial pioneer and entrepreneur Matthew Boulton (1728 – 1809). One of the leading figures of the Industrial Revolution, Boulton worked closely with the engineer James Watt to help transform manufacturing using steam power. One of his interests was in coin production, which he believed could be revolutionised by the new technology. Traditional minting methods were slow and labour-intensive and often produced coins of inconsistent quality. Boulton set out to create a modern mint powered by steam-driven machinery. The result was the Soho Mint, established just outside Birmingham in the late eighteenth century. It rapidly became known as one of the most technologically advanced mints in the world.

A fifty-pound banknote from the Bank of England featuring portraits of Matthew Boulton and James Watt, along with an illustration of a steam engine. — _{Boulton and Watt on the UK Fifty Pounds Note (issued between 2011-2022)}

The mint’s powerful steam-driven presses could produce coins with exceptional precision and uniformity, creating sharply detailed designs and perfectly formed edges that were extremely difficult for counterfeiters to reproduce. Governments around the world took notice. The Soho Mint struck coins for Britain and for many foreign nations, establishing an international reputation for excellence. As a result, when the silver coinage shortage deepened, the Government turned to the Soho Mint to help them out of the crisis.

A scenic view of a historic brick building beside a dirt path, surrounded by lush greenery and a river, with a partly cloudy sky. — _{The Soho Mint near Birmingham}

In 1804, the Bank of England decided that instead of merely applying a small countermark to the Spanish dollar, the coin should be completely overstruck with an entirely new design. Large quantities of Spanish eight-reales pieces were promptly gathered together and dispatched to the Soho Mint. These coins already possessed approximately the correct weight and silver content required for circulation in Britain. So, there was no requirement to melt them down. Instead, the pieces were placed beneath powerful steam presses and struck again with new dies bearing new designs for the obverse and reverse.

The immense pressure exerted by the machinery forced the new designs onto the surface of the existing coins, a process known as overstriking. In many cases, traces of the original Spanish coin design remain visible beneath the new design, creating a fascinating blend of two different monetary traditions. These ghostly remnants are among the features that make the Bank of England Dollar so intriguing to collectors and historians alike.

Historical black and white image of workers operating large industrial machinery in a factory setting, featuring multiple large presses and a production line. — _{Steam operated coin presses at the Soho Mint}

Boulton recruited a skilled German coin engraver to produce the designs for the coins, medals and tokens produced at the Soho Mint. Conrad Heinrich Küchler (c. 1740 – 1810) created a laureate and draped portrait of King George III facing right for the obverse, accompanied by the inscription GEORGIUS III DEI GRATIA REX (George III, by the Grace of God, King).

The reverse presents a seated Britannia holding an olive branch and spear, with a shield emblazoned with the Union Flag beside her. She is accompanied, unusually, by a beehive (symbolising industry) and a cornucopia (symbolising prosperity). The design is surrounded by a crowned garter carrying the inscription FIVE SHILLINGS DOLLAR, which made it the equivalent of a crown. The clear statement of value was essential because the coin originated from foreign currency and needed to be accepted confidently throughout Britain.

_{The Bank of England Dollar (1804-1811)}

All Bank of England Dollars bear the date 1804, even though they continued to be produced until 1811. Some of the Spanish coins that they were struck from are likely to have circulated for decades before that, making this coin both old and new at the same time. Before being transformed into emergency British currency at the Soho Mint, the Spanish silver pieces would likely have travelled across oceans and through the hands of merchants, sailors and soldiers.

The Soho Mint became a symbol of Britain’s industrial leadership. Many of the principles pioneered there, including mechanised production and enhanced protection against counterfeiting, became standard features of modern minting. Indeed, Boulton’s success was instrumental in convincing the government that Britain’s coinage system needed comprehensive reform. Only a few years later, the Great Recoinage of 1816 established a new British monetary system, introducing many of the denominations that would remain familiar for generations. After that, there was no further need for emergency British currency, and the Bank of England dollars were withdrawn from circulation between 1817 and 1818.

Today, the Bank of England Dollar remains a remarkable survivor from an age of war and innovation. It is a coin that tells not one story but many: of Spanish treasure, industrial revolution, economic hardship and national resilience. Few coins can claim such an extraordinary journey. Above all, it reminds us that even in times of crisis, ingenuity can produce something extraordinary. The overstruck coin may have been born of necessity, but it has earned its place as one of the most intriguing coins ever to circulate in Britain.

July 2, 2026July 9, 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.

June 26, 2025June 26, 2025 CHF Editor Ancient Greece & Rome, British Coins, Coin History, European Coins, Medieval Coins, Monarchs, U.S. Coins

Minted Messages: How Rulers Used Coins to Shape History

Coins have long been more than mere instruments of trade; they have served as enduring symbols of power, authority, and ideology. From the ancient empires of Mesopotamia to the modern nation-states, rulers have harnessed the medium of coinage to disseminate political propaganda and immortalize their reigns. These small, tangible artifacts have transcended their economic function to become vehicles of communication, carrying messages of legitimacy, conquest, and cultural dominance across centuries.

The Origins of Coinage as Propaganda

The use of coins as a means of political messaging can be traced back to antiquity. One of the earliest examples comes from the ancient civilizations of Lydia and Persia, where rulers began issuing coins bearing their likeness or symbols of divine favour. The face of a king on a coin was not merely decorative—it was a statement. It affirmed the ruler’s divine right to govern and reminded subjects of their allegiance to a central authority.

Ancient silver coin featuring an owl design, symbolizing wisdom and authority, with intricate detailing.

Athenian Silver Owl (440 – 400 BC)

In the Greek city-states, coinage reflected not only the wealth but also the identity of the polis. The Athenian tetradrachm famously featured the owl of Athena, symbolizing wisdom and the city’s patron deity, alongside inscriptions that asserted Athens’ dominance in trade and culture. By circulating these coins throughout the Mediterranean, Athens projected its power and influence far beyond its borders.

Roman Coins: A Masterclass in Political Messaging

Perhaps no civilization perfected the art of propagandistic coinage quite like the Romans. From the Republic to the Empire, Roman rulers used coins as tools to consolidate power, celebrate military victories, and reinforce loyalty. Julius Caesar, for instance, was the first living Roman to have his portrait minted on coins—a bold move that signified his ambition and foreshadowed the transition from Republic to Empire.

Ancient Roman silver coin featuring a portrait of Julius Caesar on one side and a galloping horseman on the reverse.

Julius Caesar Silver Coin

The emperors who followed Caesar continued to exploit coinage as a medium of propaganda. Augustus, the first Roman Emperor, adorned his coins with images of Pax Romana, symbolizing the peace and prosperity brought under his rule. His successors, such as Trajan and Constantine, commemorated their military triumphs and religious policies through intricate designs and inscriptions. Constantine’s coins famously featured the Chi-Rho symbol, a Christian emblem, as a declaration of his support for the burgeoning faith and his vision for a unified empire under Christianity.

A Roman coin featuring two hands shaking, symbolizing agreement or friendship, with the inscription 'Salus' surrounding the image.

Pax Romana Coin of Caesar Augustus

Medieval Monarchs: Coins in the Service of Divine Right

During the medieval period, European monarchs used coins to assert their divine right to rule. Kings like Charlemagne and Alfred the Great issued coinage that featured Christian iconography—crosses, saints, and biblical inscriptions—to emphasize their role as God’s chosen rulers. These coins served dual purposes: economic and theological. They were tools of commerce and instruments of faith, reminding subjects of the divine order that legitimized monarchical power.

Medieval silver coin featuring intricate Arabic inscriptions, representing the divine right of rulers.

Umayyad Caliphate Silver Dirham

Islamic rulers, too, utilized coinage to assert their authority and religious identity. The Umayyad Caliphate, for instance, introduced coins bearing Arabic inscriptions, distinguishing them from the Byzantine and Sassanian coinage that had previously dominated the region. These coins were not merely currency; they were declarations of Islamic sovereignty, and the ideological shift brought about by the Caliphate’s expansion.

The Renaissance and the Age of Discovery

With the Renaissance came a renewed emphasis on art and humanism, which found its way into coinage. Monarchs like Henry VIII and Elizabeth I of England used coins to depict their portraits in increasingly lifelike detail, showcasing their wealth and power. These coins were often accompanied by Latin mottos that underscored their political philosophies and divine favour.

Close-up of an 18th-century silver coin featuring intricate designs, including a crown and two pillars, with the year 1784 inscribed.

1754 Spanish Silver Pillar Dollar showing ‘Plus Ultra’ motto on two ribbons. The ribbon encircling the pillar is believed to be the origin of the modern dollar sign ($)

The colonial powers of the Age of Discovery also leveraged coinage to assert control over newly conquered territories. Spanish coins bearing the Pillars of Hercules and the phrase “Plus Ultra” symbolized the empire’s global ambitions and its expansion into the Americas. By distributing these coins in distant lands, Spain reinforced its dominance and the idea of a universal monarchy.

Modern Coinage: National Identity and Propaganda

In the modern era, coinage continues to play a role in shaping political narratives, albeit in subtler ways. The United States minted coins celebrating its founding fathers and national symbols, such as the bald eagle and the Statue of Liberty, to foster unity and patriotism. Similarly, Soviet coins featured imagery of workers and industrial progress, aligning with the ideals of communism and the glorification of the proletariat.

Even today, many countries issue commemorative coins to mark significant events, leaders, and milestones. These coins serve as reminders of national pride and historical achievements, ensuring that the messages of the state reach even the remotest corners of society.

A collection of various euro coins featuring different designs, including portraits and symbols representative of European nations.

A variety of national reverse designs for the modern Euro coin.

When the European Union introduced the Euro as a single form of currency for all 12 of its official members in 2002, the reverses of each Euro coin were uniform across the entire EU. But each Member Nation was allowed to create their own coin obverses, featuring national motifs and symbols.

Because euro coins circulated freely throughout the EU, the national obverses of Germany, Italy, Spain, and France could soon be found in markets in Ireland, Finland, Austria, and the Netherlands. But this only helped reinforce the message of European unity and strength through national cooperation.

The Power of Coinage in Historical Memory

Coins, though small and sometimes overlooked, have wielded immense power in shaping historical memory. They are artifacts of propaganda that encapsulate the ideologies, ambitions, and identities of those who issued them. As they passed from hand to hand, coins carried not just monetary value but also the weight of political authority and cultural influence.

By examining the history of coinage, we gain a deeper understanding of how rulers have sought to control narratives and consolidate power through one of the most enduring and universal mediums.

These minted messages, preserved in museums, archaeological sites, and private collections continue to tell the story of humanity’s political and cultural evolution.

May 20, 2025May 20, 2025 CHF Editor Ancient Greece & Rome, British Coins, Coin History, European Coins, Medieval Coins

Pocket-Sized Time Machines

The Archaeological Secrets of Ancient Coins

A close-up of an ancient silver coin held between two fingers, featuring a detailed portrait of a Roman emperor. — Roman silver coin found on a dig site

When archaeologists unearth ancient coins, they’re not just finding currency—they’re uncovering miniature time capsules that can reveal surprising details about the civilizations that created them. Unlike many artifacts that deteriorate over time, coins often survive remarkably intact, preserving their messages across millennia and helping us reach back in time to directly touch their lives.

Perfect Messengers from the Past

Coins possess unique qualities that make them invaluable to archaeologists and historians. They’re officially dated, carry detailed imagery and powerful symbols, and they were usually mass-produced by central authorities and distributed across the lands ruled by that authority.

When a Roman emperor issued a coin proclaiming a military victory, for example, we have direct evidence of how the empire wanted that event remembered. Subsequent historians and even contemporary commentators may have interjected their own bias into their accounts. But the coins of the realm provide indisputable evidence of the ‘official’ tale – at least as the ruling powers wanted it represented.

Furthermore, the distribution patterns of coins tell stories that written records often miss. When Spanish pieces of eight appear in excavations across Asia, they help to map trade networks more accurately than any medieval document or shipping records. A single Byzantine solidus found in a Viking settlement speaks volumes about far-reaching economic connections.

Silent Emperors Speak

During the tumultuous Crisis of the Third Century (235-284 CE), the Roman Empire experienced rapid succession of rulers and civil wars. During this chaotic period, many emperors ruled so briefly (sometimes mere weeks or months) that traditional historical records either never documented them or their names were actively removed from all records over time. Coins bearing their portraits and names, however, have survived as tangible proof of their brief claims to power.

Some notable examples include:

Silbannacus – A complete mystery until the 1930s when a single coin bearing his name and image was discovered. Another coin was found in 2004. Beyond these two coins, we have absolutely no historical records of this emperor.

Domitian II – For centuries, historians considered him fictional until a single coin appeared in France in 1900. A second coin was discovered in 2003, confirming his brief rule around 271 CE as a rebel emperor.

Uranius Antoninus – A Syrian priest who declared himself emperor around 253 CE. Though mentioned very briefly in one historical source, our primary knowledge of his reign comes from his distinctive coins.

These “shadow emperors” demonstrate the remarkable historical value of numismatic evidence. When texts are silent, coins speak—preserving names, faces, and titles that would otherwise have vanished completely from historical record. Their survival also illustrates how thoroughly the Romans established their minting systems, where even short-lived usurpers quickly produced coins to legitimize their claims to power.

History Written in Metal

The true archaeological value of coins often lies in their unintended revelations. Consider the silver content analysis of Roman denarii, which shows gradual debasement—revealing economic stress long before written records acknowledged problems. Similarly, the wear patterns on coins show how long they circulated and how they were handled, providing insights into everyday economic life.

Spanish silver coins that were traded in Asia often feature ‘chop marks’ overstruck into their surface. This practice was particularly common amongst merchants who needed to verify the legitimacy of foreign coins in a market rife with counterfeits.

Obverse and reverse sides of an 18th-century silver coin featuring the inscription 'CAROLUS III DEI GRA.' with a portrait of King Charles III on one side and a crowned coat of arms on the other.

Coin hoards—especially emergency stashes buried during crises—create especially valuable archaeological snapshots. The Hoxne Hoard in Britain, containing 15,000 coins and buried around 410 CE, coincides precisely with Rome’s withdrawal from Britain. The newest coins in such hoards create terminus post quem dating (the earliest possible date) for whatever catastrophe prompted the burial.

Roman legions often buried their payrolls before a major battle (to avoid it falling into enemy hands if they were defeated.) To this very day, clay jars of Roman coins are still occasionally discovered during road or building construction projects.

Beyond Economics

Perhaps most fascinatingly, coins preserve cultural elements that would otherwise vanish. Religious symbols, architectural details of now-destroyed buildings, and portraits of rulers appear in miniature relief. The temple on Herod Agrippa’s prutah coin gives archaeologists architectural details of structures long reduced to rubble and bare foundations.

Coins also capture evolutionary changes in language, as inscriptions shift from Greek to Latin across the Mediterranean, or from Sanskrit to Arabic across Central Asia, documenting cultural transitions with remarkable precision.

Modern Archaeological Approaches

Today’s archaeologists apply advanced techniques to these ancient treasures. X-ray fluorescence reveals exact metallic compositions without damaging specimens. Digital mapping of find locations creates distribution patterns impossible to see before computerization. Each advance extracts more information from these tiny messengers.

For the dedicated numismatist and archaeologist alike, each coin represents far more than its face value—it’s a direct connection to the people who once held it, a microcosm of their economy, their art, their beliefs, and their identity. These miniature time capsules continue to speak volumes, one small disk at a time.

A gathering of ancient Romans in a classical setting, observing a unique mechanical device resembling an astrolabe, surrounded by ruined columns and statues.

Coins can be a time machine to the past…

April 15, 2022April 15, 2022 CHF Editor Ancient Greece & Rome, British Coins, Coin History, European Coins, Video

RULE BRITANNIA! Evolution of an Icon

British numismatic historian, Justin Robinson, takes us on a fascinating journey spanning 2000 years as he examines how the powerful symbol of Britannia changed and evolved over the centuries.

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.

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

Pistrucci’s Forgotten Coin Masterwork – The 1821 Farthing

Today, Benedetto Pistrucci is probably best remembered for his neoclassical masterwork of Saint George fighting the dragon on the British gold sovereign. The design has been popular ever since it first appeared in 1817, and is still struck on sovereigns today. However, his second great coin design, created for Britain’s lowest value coin, the farthing, in 1821, has been largely forgotten today. This might be due to the fact that the design was only struck for five short years before it was unceremoniously dropped after the artist suffered a spectacular fall from grace.

The design is of a striking young woman, wearing a long flowing robe and the battle helmet of an ancient warrior. Armed with a trident and a shield emblazoned with the Union flag, she looks out to sea with a proud and focused gaze, as if scanning the horizon for signs of danger and ready to defend her land from invasion. Her name is Britannia, and she is the female personification of Britain.

Britannia was already an established figure on British coins when Pistrucci decided to give her a radical makeover. She first appeared on Roman coins during the reign of the Emperor Hadrian in the second century. The unknown engraver depicted her in long flowing robes and carrying a spear with a large shield at her side. However, after the Romans left Britain, Britannia did not return to the coinage until 1672, when the Dutch artist John Roettiers emblazoned her shield with the Union Flag to symbolise the unity of the Kingdom. More than a century later, in 1797, the German engraver Conrad Heinrich Küchler incorporated a maritime theme into the design, replacing Britannia’s shield with a trident and placing her on an island surrounded by water to convey Britain’s supremacy of the seas.

Born in Rome, Pistrucci quickly acquired a reputation as the finest engraver of his age. Shortly after arriving in London in 1816, he was commissioned to design new coins of the realm. The Italian artist had a passion for classical art, and it was said that he liked to “study Greek originals day and night”. In 1817 he crafted a depiction of Saint George and the dragon for the new gold sovereign and gave England’s patron saint the plumed helmet of an ancient Greek warrior. Four years later, he was inspired to give Britannia the same battle helmet on the humble farthing, which was Britain’s lowest value coin.

Pistrucci may have been inspired to make this radical change to Britannia’s appearance by a popular eighteenth-century painting of the Celtic warrior Queen Boudica by the artist John Opie, who anachronistically depicted her wearing this plumed headgear. It is also possible that he was inspired by artistic depictions of the Pallas, a Titan god in Greek mythology. Pallas appears as a robed female figure with a plumed helmet and shield on several medals, including the medal struck for the coronation of Queen Anne.

_{“Boadicea Haranguing the Britons” by John Opie (1761–1807)}

Britannia’s striking new appearance on coins arguably transformed her in the public consciousness from a remote, ethereal observer into the strong warrior Queen and protector of the realm. Pistrucci also depicted her on the reverse of his bronze Coronation Medal struck in 1821. This design shows the new King, George IV, crowned by the winged figure of victory, while the female personifications of the British realms, namely Britannia, Scotia and Hibernia, all swear allegiance to him.

_{George IV Coronation Medal by Pistrucci}

Today, one only has to visit the Italian Mint museum in Rome, which holds the world’s largest archive of Pistrucci’s work, to see that the pairing of an ancient Greek battle helmet with the head of a beautiful young woman was a subject that fascinated him.

_{From the Pistrucci archive at the Italian Mint Museum in Rome (reproduced with permission)}

Another remarkable feature of Pistrucci’s 1821 farthing is the inclusion of a lion at Britannia’s feet. Only the head and front paws are visible, and position is, in heraldic terms, ‘couchant’, that is, lying down with the head raised. He appears to be watching the horizon with Britannia for signs of danger. The striking proximity of the majestic reclining lion to the seated woman is particularly effective and adds to Britannia’s mystique as the fearless protector and guardian of the British Isles.

In keeping with the maritime theme introduced by Küchler in 1797, Pistrucci retained the trident for his Britannia, but she now grasps it like a warrior, pointing it firmly outwards in a combat-ready stance. There was no room on the small farthing to depict her surrounded by water. Small waves appear under her feet to indicate that she is sitting on the shoreline and looking out to sea. Pistrucci also turned her to face the right for the first time, as if to recognise that any future threat to Britain would likely come from the East rather than the West. It would have felt like a pertinent observation, coming just six years after the Battle of Waterloo. Britannia would remain facing right on Britain’s coinage for the next 187 years, until 2008.

Sadly, Pistrucci did not have the opportunity to create a Britannia reverse for the larger copper coins, namely the penny and the halfpenny, which would have allowed him the opportunity to expand his design. No new copper coins were required until 1825, and by that time, Pistrucci was no longer employed as a coin engraver after suffering a spectacular fall from grace.

King George IV was unhappy with the way Pistrucci had depicted him on coins as an overweight Nero with short curly hair and crowned with a laurel wreath in the Roman Imperial tradition. This neo-classical portrait was at odds with the reputation he tried to cultivate as a fashionably modern and debonair ladies’ man. He requested that the Royal Mint change his portrait, and he supplied them with a flattering marble bust of himself by the sculptor Sir Francis Chantrey to use as a model.

_{King George IV in 1821}

_{Marble bust of King George IV by Sir Francis Chantrey}

Pistrucci was outraged, claiming that copying the work of another artist would violate his artistic integrity. When the King helpfully sent an equally flattering painting of himself by Sir Thomas Lawrence to inspire the artist, it is said that the volatile Italian, after being ordered by his superiors at the Mint to hang it in his studio, stubbornly turned it to face the wall.

Pistrucci’s unwillingness to give the King what he wanted would quickly see him out of royal favour and replaced as a coin engraver by an artist who would. William Wyon dutifully supplied a new portrait of the King modelled on the Chantrey bust, which met with royal approval. The designs that Pistrucci had created for Britain’s coinage were replaced, and he would not live to see his work appear on coins again.

Wyon became the first English artist to depict Britannia on circulating coins. His depiction of Britannia is elegant and well proportioned, but when viewed alongside Pistrucci’s farthing, she arguably lacks the regal bearing and poise of that short-lived design, which was dropped from the farthing in 1826.

Noticeably absent from Wyon’s redesign is the lion that Pistrucci had placed at Britannia’s side and the olive branch she carried as a symbol of peace. But he did choose to retain the battle helmet that Pistrucci had given her. By doing so, he ensured that this would form part of Britannia’s distinctive identity to this day.

A right-facing Britannia continued to appear on British coins throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. In 1968, the artist Christopher Ironside chose to reunite Britannia with the lion on the reverse of the new decimal Fifty Pence. Since 2015 she has appeared on the £2 coin, designed by Anthony Dufort. She still wears the battle helmet of an ancient warrior, just as she did for the first time on Pistrucci’s farthing in 1821.

_{Christopher Ironside reunited Britannia with the Lion in 1968}

Because Pistrucci’s iconic depiction of Britannia appeared for just five years on Britain’s lowest value coin, his contribution to creating such an enduring symbol of Britain has been largely overlooked today. Unlike his Saint George and the dragon, which continues to be struck on gold sovereigns to this day, Pistrucci’s second great coin masterwork has, at the time of writing, never appeared on coins again.