Coins have long served as more than mere tools of commerce; they are miniature canvases that encapsulate history, culture, and artistry. Across centuries, nations and empires have minted coins that are not only functional but also artistically significant; capturing the essence of their time and place in ways that modern currency rarely achieves.
While some of these nations have long since disappeared and been nearly forgotten, their coins still survive and deserve recognition as treasures of human creativity and ingenuity.
The Rise of Numismatic Art
Throughout history, coins have been a medium through which rulers proclaimed power, celebrated achievements, and expressed cultural identity. From the grand empires of antiquity to the fleeting states of recent history, the artistry imbued in coins tells stories of political ambition, religious devotion, and societal values.
The Hellenistic Kingdoms: Coins of Divine Elegance
Silver tetradrachm of Lysimachus
The coins of Alexander the Great’s successors, the Hellenistic kingdoms, stand as some of the most artistically significant examples in numismatic history. These coins often depicted finely detailed portraits of rulers in a godlike manner, merging human and divine iconography. For instance, coins minted under Lysimachus, one of Alexander’s generals, feature the image of Alexander adorned with the horns of Zeus-Ammon, symbolizing his godly status. The intricate craftsmanship and symbolism of these coins evoke both reverence and admiration for the artistic prowess of their creators.
The Byzantine Empire: A Golden Legacy
The Byzantine Empire, which spanned more than a thousand years, left behind a numismatic legacy characterized by striking imagery and religious themes. Byzantine solidus coins, minted in gold, often featured detailed depictions of emperors alongside Christian iconography, such as Christ Pantocrator or the Virgin Mary.
Byzantine Christ Pantocrator Gold Coin
These coins were not merely currency but also objects of devotion and propaganda, reflecting the empire’s intertwining of faith and governance. Their luminous beauty and meticulous designs continue to fascinate collectors and historians today.
Forgotten Nations: The Artistic Echoes of Modern History
While the coins of ancient empires often garner the most attention, currencies from more recent, defunct nations also offer profound artistic insights. These forgotten coins tell tales of fleeting sovereignty and shifting borders, encapsulating moments of cultural pride and resilience.
The Austro-Hungarian Empire: A Symphony of Cultures
The Austro-Hungarian Empire, a melting pot of diverse cultures, produced coins that reflect its rich heritage. Silver crown coins minted during the reign of Emperor Franz Joseph I showcase intricate designs that blend classical motifs with the empire’s distinctive symbols. The harmonious artistry of its coinage and currency is a testament to the empire’s complex yet unified character.
Austro-Hungarian 100-coronas (1908)
Coins from the Austro-Hungarian Empire often bore inscriptions in both German and Hungarian. This was reflective of the dual monarchy established by the Austro-Hungarian Compromise of 1867, which recognized Hungary’s autonomy within the empire. For example, coins minted in Hungary during Franz Joseph I’s reign often included Hungarian inscriptions alongside German ones.
The Ottoman Empire: A Tapestry of Intricate Geometry
Ottoman Gold Coin of Sultani Sulayman
The Ottoman Empire, known for its architectural grandeur and calligraphic artistry, translated its aesthetic sensibilities into its coinage. Ottoman coins often featured elegant Arabic script and geometric patterns, embodying the empire’s Islamic heritage. These coins stood as not only a representation of monetary value but also as an extension of the empire’s artistic traditions, bridging the worlds of functional design and spiritual expression.
The Weimar Republic: Modern Art in Crisis
The Weimar Republic, marked by economic turmoil and political instability, nonetheless produced coins that reflect the artistic movements of the early 20th century. The designs of these coins often drew inspiration from Bauhaus and other modernist movements, showcasing sleek lines and geometric forms. While the republic itself was short-lived, its coins serve as reminders of the resilience and innovation that can arise even in times of hardship.
Coins of the Weimar Republic (1920’s – 30’s)
Conclusion
Today, these artistically significant coins from defunct nations and empires hold value far beyond their original worth. They are sought after by collectors, admired by art enthusiasts, and studied by historians. Their designs, often painstakingly crafted, provide a glimpse into the soul of their creators and the societies they represented.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 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.
The Kingdom of Pontus was located on the southern coast of the Pontus Euxinus ‘hospitable sea’ in Asia Minor. Pontus Euxinus is an ancient name for the Black Sea and Asia Minor for an area which roughly covered that of modern day Turkey.
In the decades following the death of Alexander the Great, many new kingdoms emerged from his fragmented empire. Out of this period of formation came the Kingdom of Pontus which was proclaimed by its founder, Mithradates I, in 281 B.C. This new kingdom was Hellenized (i.e. culturally Greek) with Greek being its official language and its kings proudly proclaiming a bloodline through Alexander himself.
In general terms, Pontus was nothing special, it’s borders ebbed and flowed like most kingdoms. What it needed was a sign that great things were to come and they sure did come. Ancient sources record that in the birth year of one particular Pontic prince a comet burned brightly for 70 days, shining so bright as to be brighter than the sun itself. As a baby the prince was said to have been struck by lightning, a phenomenon which Alexander the Great’s mother, Olympias, had dreamt of happening to her womb and which had happened, too, to Semele, the mother of Olympian god, Dionysus.
Prophecies in the east had foretold the coming of a god-sent saviour king whose rise would herald the end of an evil empire. Was this the second coming of Alexander? In 120 B.C. Mithradates V, King of Pontus, was murdered by poison when his son and heir, also Mithradates, was only 13 years old.
The dead king’s wife and mother of young Mithradates, Laodice, took over the kingdom and set about having the young prince disposed of. Laodice had Mithradates ride dangerous horses and throw javelins and when this didn’t work she tried to poison him. That too didn’t work; Mithradates took flight and spent several years in the Pontic wilderness during which time he took a keen interest in the natural plant and wildlife of the kingdom.
Upon his return to court, Mithradates himself used a poison, possibly arsenic, to remove several treacherous relatives and rivals, managing to secure his kingdom in the process.
Mithradates VI ‘The Great’ had arrived.
This young man, the very prince whose birth, it’s said, had been heralded by a comet brighter than the sun and who had been struck by lightning as a baby, immediately set about writing himself into the history books. Through his father, Mithradates had a royal lineage harking back to the Persian emperors and through his mother he had a direct bloodline to Alexander himself. This meant that the new king was a perfect fusion of east and west, something which proved to be a potent political tool for the king whose dream was to form an empire unifying the towns and cities around the Black Sea.
In this endeavour, Mithradates was given a divine helping hand in inheriting Alexander the Great’s mantel, his purple cloak which, it’s thought, was imbued with the great emperor’s qualities. During a time when the Roman Republic was becoming increasingly powerful, perhaps it was Alexander’s inspiration which made Mithradates the republic’s most dangerous and relentless enemy.
The golden kiss
Mithradates’ rule saw the Kingdom of Pontus reach its largest extent and it wasn’t just his dreams of a Black Sea empire which caused this to happen but also a drive to liberate the Greek cities of Asia Minor from their oppressors, the Romans.
Using philhellenism (a love of Greek culture) as a political tool, Mithradates proclaimed himself as ‘great liberator’ of the Greek world and set about executing a ruthless plan which became known as the Asiatic Vespers. In 88 B.C. between 80,000-150,000 Roman and Italian citizens were murdered on a single day in the Greek settlements of Asia Minor. The plan was orchestrated by Mithradates who had convinced his friends and allies to rid themselves of their Roman oppressors in one foul swoop. It was a brutal move which is now considered to be one of the first genocides in history.
Rome wouldn’t stand for such defiance and the hornet’s nest was well and truly stirred. War was declared on Mithradates by the Roman Senate and what ensued became known to history as the Mithradatic Wars. Around this time Mithradates is said to have portrayed the Romans to his men as a group of people suckled by a she-wolf, who once had kings chosen from shepherds, soothsayers, exiles, and slaves, and who were hostile to him and other monarchs.
Not all kingdoms, however, bought into Mithradates’ cussing of the Romans who could be quite accommodating if it benefited them. King Nicomedes IV of Bithynia had been forced out by Mithradates and fled to Rome only a couple of years previously. With the aid of former Roman consul, Manius Aquilius, Nicomedes was able to gain his throne from the neighbouring Pontic kingdom but it didn’t end there. Aquilius encouraged King Nicomedes to encroach upon Pontic territory and this was seen as a massive affront by the proud and belligerent Mithradates.
Battle was inevitable. Aquilius’ forces took on Mithradates and were beaten with the former consul of Rome promptly fleeing in the direction of Rome to save his life. Aquilius got as far as the Aegean island of Lesbos before being handed over to Mithradates. Making an example of Aquilius, Mithradates had him placed upon a donkey and then forced to confess his wrongdoings all the way to the city of Pergamon. Waiting for Aquilius was an ignominious end. Here, Mithradates attempted to strike fear into all those who opposed or displeased him. Orders were given to heat a bar of gold to melting point which was then ceremoniously poured into Aquilius’ mouth. It was a bold move against the might of Rome and significant gains were soon made by Mithradates.
Liberation, divination and frustration
In the spring of 88 B.C. Mithradates was invited by the military leader of Athens, Ariston, to liberate Greece. If ever there was a chance to follow in the footsteps of Alexander as hero of the Greek people then it was now. A Pontic army was sent to Greece and anti-Roman rebellions erupted throughout the Greek mainland. Rome only had two Legions in the area but they were up in the northeast fighting against the Thracians.
Forced back to Greece to fight the first Pontic army, the Roman legions had their tails chased by a second Pontic army which had marched into Thrace. Now with two armies in the field, a heady sum of money was needed to realise Mithradates’ dreams of a liberated Greece. For this endeavour the spirit of Alexander was revived in a gold coinage which bore his youthful image. This was, however, more than a mere representation of the legendary King of Kings, this was the image of a god. Upon Alexander’s temple can be seen the curled horn of a ram; this is the deified Alexander as the god Zeus-Ammon. While building his empire, Alexander had insisted on marching his troops to the temple of Zeus-Ammon in the Egyptian desert. This famed oracle told Alexander that he himself was the son of Zeus-Ammon confirming the claims which Olympias, Alexander’s mother, had made years previously.
Subsequently Alexander’s portrait was sometimes adorned with horns of the Egyptian god, Amun, as confirmation of this divine status. On the reverse of Mithradates’ gold coinage is the seated image of Athena Nikephoros, meaning Athena ‘carrying Nike’, the Greek goddess of victory. Accompanying Athena and Nike is a Greek legend which translates as ‘Basileus Lysimachoi’ or in modern terms, ‘King Lysimachus’.
Why, then, do Mithradates gold coins name King Lysimachus and not Mithradates himself? These coins are direct copies of a gold coin struck by the founder of the Kingdom of Thrace, Lysimachus, over two hundred years previously. Lysimachus was a companion and bodyguard of Alexander the Great who had formed the new kingdom out of the chaotic power struggles that followed Alexander’s death in 323 B.C.
Lysimachus had struck the gold coins in honour of Alexander and they had become immensely popular, so much so that they were still circulating in Thrace and the Black Sea area when Mithradates’ army were campaigning there in the early first century B.C.. Recognising their popularity, Mithradates took to striking his own copies and used them to fund a contingent of Thracian mercenaries against the Roman legions.
As it happens, the famous Roman general and statesman, Sulla, eventually pushed Mithradates’ forces back into Asia Minor and the gold staters ceased to be minted around 86 B.C. It was a huge setback for Mithradates who was fined 600,000 gold staters and forced to abandon his attempted liberation of Greece. Rome would continue to deny the Pontic king from fulfilling his ambitions, however, during his reign, Mithradates did manage to conquer the historical regions of Colchis, Cappadocia, Bithynia, the Greek colonies of the Tauric Chersonesos as well as, for a brief time, the Roman province of Asia.
It was an awesome achievement but after a long struggle with his Roman nemesis, the mighty Mithradates was eventually forced to take his own life. The end game took place in the ancient Greek colony of Panticapaeon on the Cimmerian Bosporus in the northern Black Sea. In 63 B.C. Mithradates had hatched a plan to invade Italy by way of the Danube when his own troops led by his son, Pharnaces, revolted.
Reading the writing on the wall, Mithradates attempted to poison himself along with several other family members. Consuming the poison last, most had already been used and it was not strong enough to overcome Mithradates. He ordered a Gallic mercenary to finish the job by blade and Mithradates was dead. It’s believed that his body was taken by the famous Roman general, Pompey the Great, back to the old Pontic capital of Amasya to be buried in the rock-cut tombs of his ancestors. Pompey then awarded the Bosporan kingdom to Pharnaces for the betrayal of his father. Pharnaces ruled for sixteen years before making a decisive move on his original inheritance of Pontus.
The Romans reacted swiftly and a rapid five day war ended Pharnaces’ hopes, culminating in the Battle of Zela in 47 B.C. The victor at this battle was none other than Julius Caesar and it was a quick, clean and clinical routing of Pharnaces’ forces. Writing back to the Roman senate, Caesar summed up his actions in the famous words; ‘Veni, Vidi, Vici’ – ‘I came, I saw, I conquered’. It was the end of any hopes that the Kingdom of Pontus might be saved.
The Poison King
To this day, Mithradates is known as the ‘poison king’ but how did he earn this name?
From an early age Mithradates took a great interest in toxicology, taking the time during his years in the Pontic wilderness to become familiar with the poisonous plants and animals within the kingdom. Here could be found Monkshood, Hellebore, Nightshade, Hemlock, Azalea, Rhododendron and Pontic ducks, all poisonous if eaten. Once he ascended the throne, Mithradates set about building laboratories and collecting specimens from right across his new kingdom. Plants and animals with powerful healthful or poisonous characteristics were abundant throughout the Black Sea region and poison was built into the culture of some of Mithradates’ allies. The mounted nomad archers of Scythia, poisoned their arrows with a sophisticated concoction of viper venom and other pathogens.
Shamans from this area as well as physicians and healers were employed to help Mithradates find the holy grail of toxicology, a universal antidote to all poisons. A central part of this endeavour saw him consume a concoction of various poisons every morning as a means of building up immunity. In a world where poisoning was the preferred method of undetectable assassination, paranoia was a necessary evil. Mithradates employed guards in his kitchens as well as royal tasters. Poison cups of electrum (gold mixed with silver) were used which would reveal the presence of poison if a crackling sound was heard along with an iridescent colour. In addition, Mithradates used glossopetra or ‘tongue stones’ in his drinks. Believed to magically deflect poisons, glossopetra were, in fact, fossilized giant sharks teeth which, like the poison cups, would react with any hidden poisons.
Mithradates’ sleeping quarters were always guarded by a horse, a bull and a stag which would whinny, bellow or bleat whenever anyone approached the royal bed and while such measures may seem a little extreme they weren’t without foundation. It’s known that a group of Mithradates’ friends formed a plot to assassinate him but one of the conspirators, perhaps in fear of the king’s unorthodox methods of retribution, got cold feet. It was arranged that Mithradates would listen in on one of their meetings by hiding under a couch and the plot was known.
Retribution for this heinous plan, just like Aquilius’ faceful of molten gold, would serve as a potent antidote for anyone else thinking of doing the same. Naturally, the plotters were tortured and executed but Mithradates didn’t stop here, he then killed all the plotters’ family members and went on to kill each of their friends. Employing such brutal measures against his enemies and hunting down a universal antidote to poison were two of Mithradates’ most potent drives to ensure his position was kept secure.
Over the years a vast library was built, many notes taken and eventually a formulation was identified which would become the most popular and longest lived prescription in history. It was called Mithradatium and it led to Mithradates being hailed as the father of experimental toxicology.
After Mithradates’ death the formulation was reputedly found in his cabinet on a note written in his own hand. It was carried to Rome by Pompey and translated into Latin by his freedman, Lenaeus. According to Marcus Aurelius’ physician, Galen, Julius Caesar was prescribed Mithridatium and over time the emperors of Rome would all take a version of it. Roman poet, Juvenal, once wrote; ‘“If you want to survive to gather rosebuds for another day,” “find a doctor to prescribe some of the drug that Mithridates invented. Before every meal take a dose of the stuff that saves kings.”.
The formulation was said to contain many ingredients of which some of the more familiar are cardamom, anise, dried rose leaves,parsley, frankincense, myrrh, rhubarb root, saffron, ginger, and cinnamon. Nero’s physician, Andromachus, was one of the many doctors who claimed to have improved the recipe for which he replaced minced lizards with venomous snakes and added opium poppy seeds.
It’s Andromachus’ version of Mithradatium which archaeologists believe may have been found in a vat discovered near Pompeii in 2000. After the Romans made their mark on Mithradates’ universal antidote it went viral in Europe to the point where apothecaries were required by law to mix it outdoors in public squares.
For more than two millennia after the death of Mithridates, kings, queens, and nobles from Charlemagne and Alfred the Great to Henry VIII and Queen Elizabeth I would take some form of Mithridatium on a daily basis. It’s even been claimed that a form of Mithridatium was advertised by a pharmacy in Rome as recently as 1984.
Gold coins are something special. While silver coins were for the most part the common means of exchange in the mundane world, gold coins were destined for greater things, in this case the ransom of a captured king and in essence the arrival of two great powers, England and France.
In the 13th century, gold coins started reappearing in Europe. They were still scarce, but they at least existed. No longer were the Byzantine solidus coin, or is successor, the hyperpyron, the dominating gold coin. Northern Italian city-states took over the mantle, with especially the Florentine florin as the leading gold coin. First struck in 1255, was the first gold coin to be struck in significant numbers and for commercial use for about 600 years. In one coin lay the signal of a new dawn of European civilization.
Surprisingly quickly after the first florin, the French court introduced their own gold coin in 1266. King Louis IX, or Saint Louis, had the Coat of arms of France on the obverse, giving the coin its name, Écu, or “shield”. The coin was not popular, and disappeared again to make infrequent reappearances throughout the next century.
A Century to Forget
In fact, France was the richest country in Western Europe. The summers were long and warm, the winters mild and advances in agriculture gave a huge turnover. That, however, changed dramatically in the following century.
The Fourteenth Century was a saeculum horribilis, or horrible century, for Europe. The warm weather period which had lasted for two hundred years subsided, and a cold front took its place. These changes lead to bad harvests and a lack of food. The population, which exploded in the previous centuries, now faced several famines. As that was not enough, France and England were embroiled in a war from 1337 on which would take almost 116 years to resolve. Most of the fighting consisted of plundering of large areas in the French countryside. About ten years later, the extremely deadly plague, the Black Death, killed large amounts of the populous.
Gold for the King
In 1356, the French and the English clashed in the Battle of Poitiers. While they did fight honorably, the French forces were weakened by internal squabbles, and even though they had the numerical advantage, the English were both better tactically and better equipped. The English-Welsh-Gascoigne army, lead by The Black Prince Edward, captured the king of France, John II.
The French humiliation showed the open wounds in the French nobility for all to see. Outdated, divided and ineffective, they blamed each other, and mainly the king. When the English demanded first four, and then three million écu, many nobles balked.
The regent in the king’s captivity, Charles, had the unenviable task of raising money for the ransom and for the needed upkeep of the now weak army. The Estates General refused to grant the money, and ousted the regent. A civil war ensued, and Charles returned to power. He raised the money, and the king was set free.
Well, to be precise, the Black Prince treated the king to such luxuries during his captivity that the king probably saw little point in returning to the impoverished France. He would hunt pheasants, go to balls, eat lavishly, meet his family and converse with interesting people.
In fact, rumours have it that the king negated several reasonable demands made by the Estates General to prolong his stay. When he did return, it was in exchange for his second oldest son, Louis. As Louis escaped, John returned to England. If this was a matter of chivalry or longing for British hospitality is a matter of debate.
France would probably have produced gold coins faster and with much less opposition a century earlier, when the king was popular and finances were good. Now, however, the coins were minted in few numbers each year, and the amount was not met until the reign of Henry V about 60 years after the ransom was set.
The Majestic Coin
While the ransom was expressed in écu, it was paid in another currency. The coin had its own motif, and it did not feature a shield. To unite the French, Charles had made the image of King John II in full armor on horseback on the obverse. The motif was understood as the king free and on horseback, or in French: Franc à cheval. This, or possibly the legend “Rex Francorum” was the reason for the new name – the Franc.
The Franc lined the English coffers for a long time, and helped the English in their own development towards a sound money-based economy which was the backbone of the English Empire from the late 15th century onwards. The coin might have been French, but the fortunes were English.
It was also the start of a more sound financial policy for France. The Franc was fixed at a livre tournois, a specific weight, of gold. This predictability meant that for a good two hundred years, the French had a gold coin which could compete with both the Florin and the Ducat.
That is not all. The gold Franc followed the fortunes of the war. For while the gold coins did pay for the king who would defeat the French at Agincourt, it also paid for the 16 year old girl who rallied the French army to turn the tide and lift the siege of Orléans. Joan of Arc started the ousting of England from Europe and the defeat of their French allies.
This is therefore not only a coin, but also so much more. It is the start of sound French policy and unity. France had arguably never been in a more humiliating position than the one they were in when the coin was minted. When the Franc was discontinued in 1641, France was the strongest country in Europe militarily and arguably financially. It was feared by most and commanded the respect of all. This coin is quite simply French pride and honour minted in precious metal.
The Polish Constitution of 3 May was adopted 230 years ago. Thomas Jefferson, who then served as an American envoy in Paris and later became the President of the USA, stated that there were only three constitutional acts that deserved recognition: those of the United States, Poland and France. The introduction of the May Constitution was one of the most momentous events in the history of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, and an attempt at defending its independence. Unfortunately, the joy was short-lived. In 1792, a confederation of conservatives opposing all reform appealed to Empress Catherine II to intervene. The Russian army entered Poland, and the end of the Commonwealth drew near.
3 May 1791 – Sejm Proceedings under Military Escort
Faced with the progressive limitation of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth’s sovereignty (following the first partition in 1772) and a growing dependence on Russia, patriots started calling for reform. A chance to introduce them arrived during the Great Sejm (1788-1792). The confederated Sejm (which could not be broken off) culminated in the adoption of the Constitution of 3 May 1791.
The legislation was passed in a controversial manner, in circumstances that could be likened to staging a coup. The proceedings were held two days before the planned date, thus a number of MPs and senators (including many conservative) were not in Warsaw at the time. The army surrounded the Royal Castle, where the Sejm congregated, in order to quell any possible unrest. Military men disguised as valets guarded the members of the progressive patriotic faction. Marshal of the Sejm Stanisław Małachowski was given special protection.
Jan Matejko, The Constitution of 3 May 1791, 1891, the Royal Castle in Warsaw. Source: Wikipedia
The session was heated from the very beginning. Everyone was aware of the gravity of the moment. And although patriots had the advantage, their opponents did not want to surrender without a fight. Member of Parliament Jan Suchorzewski, who opposed the reforms, even proclaimed that he would sooner kill his son than let him live under the oppression that the country was about to experience.
Amidst noise and nearly theatrical scenes, the king and the Marshal of the Sejm strove to have the Constitutional act ratified. The draft for the document had been prepared in secret by a team which included King Stanisław August, Stanisław Małachowski, Ignacy Potocki, Hugo Kołłątaj and others, aided by the royal secretary Scipione Piattoli.
Marcello Bacciarelli, Portrait of Stanisław August in a Feathered Hat, after 1780, the National Museum in Warsaw
Changes Introduced by the May Constitution
The Constitution comprised eleven articles. It acknowledged the Roman Catholic creed as dominant, but guaranteed the freedom of practicing other religions. The nobility was to keep their privileges and prerogatives, with the exception of the infamous ‘liberum veto’, which allowed any single member of parliament to cause an immediate termination of the ongoing session. The Constitution also upheld the provisions of the Free Royal Cities Act adopted on 18 April 1791, which granted townspeople the right to send their representatives to the Sejm, guaranteed their personal freedom and allowed them to purchase land estates and hold public office, thus offering a path to social advancement to a substantial section of the society. The issue of the peasantry was also tackled. While not granting peasants any specific rights or freedoms, the Constitution was the first act to acknowledge them as a part of the civic community, alongside the nobility and townsfolk.
The Commonwealth was to be governed in accordance with the principle of the separation of power, divided into the legislative (the Sejm), the executive (the king and the ‘Guardians of the Law’) and the judiciary branch. A bicameral parliament was established; it was to convene on a biannual basis. Laws would be passed by a majority vote. It was also expected that a Constitutional Sejm would be held every twenty five years, to introduce necessary amendments to the Basic Law.
The king held executive power together with ‘Guardians of the Law’, i.e. his government. Aside from the monarch and the primate, the body was to comprise five ministers, responsible for Foreign Affairs, Internal Affairs, Police, Treasury and War. The ‘Guardians’ were appointed by the king. The Constitution also abolished royal elections in favour of hereditary monarchy. After the death of Stanisław August, the throne was to pass to the House of Wettin. If the king happened to be underage, the ‘Guardians of the Law’ were to act as regents, led by the queen or, in her absence, by the primate of the country.Lastly, the Constitution introduced changes to the judicial system. Courts of first instance would be established in all voivodeships, lands and counties. The choice of judges lay with local assemblies (sejmiki). Additionally, each province was to have a Supreme Tribunal, which served as the court of appeal.
Johann Georg Holtzhey, Medal to Commemorate the Constitution of 3 May, Amsterdam 1791, the National Museum in Krakow / the Princes Czartoryski Museum Johann Georg Holtzhey, Medal to Commemorate the Constitution of 3 May, Amsterdam 1791, the National Museum in Krakow / the Princes Czartoryski Museum
The Dutch Medal Presented to the King of Poland
The adoption of the Constitution was an event that reverberated both within the country and worldwide. Such a momentous occasion had to be commemorated in a fitting manner – and, indeed, it was, not only by publishers and artists producing propagandist prints, but also by medallist.
A unique work of the art of medal-making was created in Amsterdam in 1791. Rich in symbolic depictions, the coin was minted to honour King Stanisław August Poniatowski, and was presented to him as a gift. The donators were citizens of the United Provinces (the Netherlands), by the names of Gülcher and Mülder. A Warsaw-based banker Piotr Blank acted as an intermediary, making sure that the king received the gift.
The donators enlisted the services of an excellent Dutch medallist Johann Georg Holtzhey (1729-1808), master of the mint in Amsterdam and Utrecht.
Holtzhey designed the obverse of the medal to feature an elegant royal portrait of Stanisław August. In an interesting propagandist move, he chose to adorn the king’s head with oak leaves instead of the more typical laurel. In Ancient Roman tradition, an oak wreath was granted as a reward for extraordinary civic merit. Aside from the king’s customary titles (“Stanisław August, z Bożej łaski król Polski i wielki książę litewski” [Stanisław August, by the Grace of God King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lithuania]), the legend around the rim of the coin included the phrase “PATRIAE PARENS” [Father of the Homeland].
The main motif on the reverse is the quartered coat of arms of the Commonwealth (with the Poniatowski family crest – Ciołek), depicted on a globe-shaped field, topped with a mural crown and a Christogram (to signify religious tolerance). Beside it, a winged genius holds a Phrygian cap (a symbol of freedom) in his right hand, and an olive branch and a caduceus in his left. The broken shackles depicted at the genius’ feet represent foreign violence.
The background features sunbeams and the eye of Providence keeping watch over the citizens’ endeavours. To the left of the coat of arms, the medallist depicted a fasces, scales and the sword of justice, to represent fair and equal judgment for everyone in the country. The surrounding inscription reads: “TERRORE LIBERA” [Free of Fear]; the one beneath the main motif is: “EX PERHONORIFICIO COMITIORUM DECRETO D.III MAY MDCCXCI” [By Honourable Decree of the Assembly on 3 May 1791].
Treason at Targowica
The May Constitution was a short-lived act. In 1792, opponents of the reforms formed a conspiracy that led to a Russian intervention. A group of magnates, among them General of Artillery of the Crown Stanisław Szczęsny Potocki, Great Crown Hetman Franciszek Branicki and Field Hetman Seweryn Rzewuski, met at Targowica in Ukraine to establish a confederation that would defend the freedoms they believed Constitution to violate.
Their actions were enthusiastically welcomed by the Russian Empire, which – having signed a peace treaty with Ottoman Turkey – sought to reinstate its weakened influence over Poland. Empress Catherine II happily assumed the role of ‘protector of freedom’ and deployed nearly 100,000 troops to Poland to “aid the common cause of restoring to the Commonwealth its rights and privileges”. This was the beginning of the Russo-Polish War of 1792, a conflict that would hasten the demise of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth.
‘Targowica’ crown thaler, Warsaw 1793, the National Museum in Krakow / the Princes Czartoryski Museum
These painful events were commemorated on a medal coin, the so-called Targowica thaler, issued in 1793 at the initiative of the confederates. Unusually, the obverse did not feature the likeness of the king, only a propagandist inscription glorifying the ‘patriotic’ deeds of the confederation: ”Obywatelom, których miłość kraju powodowała, że starali się bronić wolności polskiej, zniszczonej przez spisek z dnia 3 maja 1791 r. – Rzeczpospolita powstająca” [To the citizens whom love of their country prompted to defend Polish freedom, destroyed by the conspiracy of 3 May 1791 – the Commonwealth Rising]. The message was additionally reinforced by the wording of the inscription around the rim: “Wdzięczność współobywateli przykładem dla potomności” [In gratitude to fellow citizens to set an example for posterity].
The reverse also differed from that of standard thaler coins. Instead of the coat of arms, it depicted the following inscription: “Postanowieniem Rzeczpospolitej skonfederowanej w dniu 5 grudnia 1792 r. za panowania Stanisława Augusta” [By decree of the Confederated Commonwealth on 5 December 1792, during the reign of Stanisław August].
The Grodno Sejm, the last session of parliament in the history of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, held in 1793 with ‘encouragement’ from the Russian army, ratified the second partition of the country and nullified the May Constitution. The final attempt at saving Poland’s independence came in 1794, in the form of an uprising led by general Tadeusz Kościuszko. The insurrection was suppressed by Russian forces; and one year later Poland ultimately disappeared from the map of Europe.
Marcin Brzezinski is a graduate of the Faculty of Journalism and Political Science at the University of Warsaw. He is interested in the history of Polish aristocracy and old photography. Author and co-author of several books, including: “Adam and Jadwiga Czartoryski. Photographs and Memories” (2013), “Stanisław Kazimierz Kossakowski. I love photography” (2019). Co-creator of historical exhibitions, including: “For here we do not have an enduring city – a story about palaces on the Royal Route in Warsaw” (2010). He has been cooperating with the National Treasury (Skarbnica Narodowa) for several years. The area of his numismatic interest is primarily historical Polish coins.
Edward VII was 59 years old when he became King. During his mother’s long reign, he had taken little interest in the affairs of state and had instead acquired a reputation as a notorious playboy, much to her displeasure. It was Queen Victoria’s wish that he reign under his birth name, Albert, but he chose not to do so, believing it would diminish the status of his father Prince Albert, whose name, he felt, should stand alone. The playboy prince became a beloved King, hailed as “the Peacemaker’ for strengthening ties with other countries. Like his mother, he gave his name to an era, one defined by major social change, patriotism, modernisation and new technology.
The silver florin struck during the short reign of King Edward VII is rightly hailed as an artistic triumph. The Royal Mint’s Chief Engraver Geroge William de Saulles (1862-1903) created a striking new image of Britannia for the coin to distinguish it from the silver half-crown, which had until then both carried heraldic designs.
The silver florin designed by de Saulles
Unlike the traditional image of Britannia on bronze coins, in which she sits passively on the shore looking out to sea, de Saulles chose to present the female personification of Britain standing proudly on the bow of an ancient ship with her cloak billowing around her surrounded by a rough sea. Her steely gaze and defiant demeanour against the raging elements show that she is undeterred, undaunted and unafraid. One hand grips a long trident; the other firmly grasps a shield on which is displayed the Union flag. The message could not be clearer;
Rule Britannia!Britannia rule the waves
The public immediately warmed to the new Britannia, who, it was felt, accurately reflected the sense of patriotism, boldness and adventurous spirit of Edwardian Britain. Tragically, de Saulles did not have long to enjoy his success. He died the following year after a short illness at the age of 41.
George William de Saulles
To obtain the naturalistic realism he wanted for Britannia, de Saulles asked a young woman to model for him. His choice would prove to be a controversial one. Lady Susan Hicks Beach (1878-1965) was the daughter of Sir Michael Hicks Beach, Chancellor of the Exchequer and Master of the Mint. She was seventeen years old when she first modelled as Britannia for de Saulles as he designed the British trade dollar in 1895. Six years later, she did so again, as he designed the florin.
The revelation that the artist had used the daughter of his employer as his model prompted a question in the House of Commons as to whether the Royal Mint had held a competition to select the designer, as they were supposed to do. However, it would have been clear to all who knew Susan why de Saulles considered her an ideal subject. She displayed the strong independent personality and the spirit of adventure that he wanted his Britannia to convey. She had the advantage of being born into a wealthy family, which allowed her to pursue her love of travel and adventure.
A tragic love story connects de Saulles triumphant image of Britannia on the reverse of the florin and his iconic depiction of the bearded monarch on the obverse. Susan’s close friend and travelling companion was a woman who, but for a cruel twist of fate, would have become King Edward VII’s daughter-in-law and the next Queen of Great Britain.
In 1887, Princess Hélène of Orléans (1871-1951) met the Prince of Wales’ eldest son Prince Albert Victor, Duke of Clarence (1864-1892). The two fell in love, declared themselves engaged and even exchanged rings. In 1890 they visited his grandmother Queen Victoria to request her permission to marry. Seeing their devotion, she gave them her blessing but warned them that they faced a major obstacle.
Princess Hélène
Hélène was a Catholic, and as an heir to the throne, Albert Victor was forbidden by Act of Parliament to marry one. She offered to convert to Anglicanism, but her father, a pretender to the French throne, refused to allow it. In desperation, she went to Rome to appeal to Pope Leo XIII personally, but he sided with her father.
Meanwhile, Albert Victor offered to renounce his rights to the throne, confiding in a letter to his younger brother George that “I feel I could never be happy without her”. The Queen appealed on his behalf to her Prime Minister Lord Salisbury, but he insisted that the Act must be strictly applied.
To avoid a constitutional crisis, Hélène wrote to her heartbroken lover in May 1891, urging him to “do your duty as an English prince without hesitation and forget me”. Tragically, just eight months later, Albert Victor died suddenly of pneumonia, leaving his younger brother to become King George V after their father’s death in 1910.
Prince Albert Victor
In 1895, as Susan modelled as Britannia for the first time, Princess Hélène married Prince Emanuele Filiberto of Savoy, Second Duke of Aosta. The Prince and Princess of Wales attended the society wedding in London, reflecting no doubt that had it not been for religious intolerance and a fatal outbreak of influenza, Princess Hélène would have been their daughter-in-law and the country’s next Queen.
In November 1907, the woman who had modelled as Britannia and the princess who had nearly married the heir to the throne left Naples together and embarked upon a seven-month tour of Egypt, Sudan, the Congo, Uganda, Kenya, German East Africa, Zanzibar, Djibouti and Eritrea. They camped, trekked across inhospitable landscapes and hunted. The adventure was clearly agreeable for both ladies because they made several more foreign trips together before and after the First World War.
Lady Susan Hicks Beach
Lady Susan and Princess Hélène during their overseas adventures
During the War, Susan went to France and served coffee on a Red Cross stall in Rouen. In 1915 her father accepted a peerage and became Earl St Aldwyn, and she became Lady Susan. Later, she served as a Justice of the Peace and district council member and helped run the family estate at Williamstrip in Gloucestershire. She never married and so retained her title for the rest of her life.
Sadly, de Saulles majestic image of Britannia on the silver florin survived only for as long as the King’s reign. Upon the death of Edward VII in 1910, the florin’s design reverted to a heraldic motif for his successor King George V.
Amidst the long and illustrious history of British gold coinage, few coins have had such a troubled origin as the 1823 double sovereign. The year marked the first time that the double sovereign had been struck as a circulating coin, and it was destined to bear a one-off portrait of the monarch that would never appear on a coin again.
The Great Recoinage of silver and gold coins, which began in 1816, was still underway when King George III died on January 29 1820. His eldest son George IV (1762-1830), was fifty-seven years old when he became King of the United Kingdom of Great Britain, Ireland, and Hanover. He had already served as Prince Regent for nine years due to his father’s incapacitating mental illness.
George III had attempted to instil in his son his own high moral values, frugal lifestyle and sense of duty but without success. The new King’s extravagant lifestyle, multiple mistresses and wasteful spending won him few friends amongst ministers and taxpayers, who condemned his behaviour as selfish, indulgent and irresponsible. However, he influenced the fashion of the time in what became known as the ‘Regency’ style and was nicknamed the ‘First Gentleman of England’ for his refined tastes.
King George IV in 1821
George amassed vast debts from spending on horses, palaces, paintings, and numerous mistresses to achieve this cultured status. He left a legacy of many fine Regency buildings, including the Brighton Pavilion. However, his notorious vanity would ultimately result in the removal of one of the most exceptional engravers ever to work on the nation’s coinage.
The task of sculpting the new King’s official coin portrait fell to Benedetto Pistrucci, the brilliant engraver who the Master of the Mint, William Wellesley-Pole, had recruited to create the designs for the Great Recoinage in 1816. As an Italian, Pistrucci was not permitted to hold the official title of the mint’s Chief Engraver as the position was open only to British subjects. However, Wellesley-Pole gave his friend the salary and the workload and left the position vacant.
Pistrucci’s portrait of King George IV on the 1822 sovereign
However, the new King was unhappy with the way Pistrucci depicted him on coins as an overweight, middle-aged Nero in the neo-classical style with short curly hair and crowned with a laurel wreath in the Roman Imperial tradition. The portrait was, arguably, at odds with the reputation he tried to cultivate as a fashionably modern and debonair man about town – a man, who as The Times famously put it, would always prefer “a girl and a bottle to politics and a sermon”.
As soon as the first coins of his reign were in circulation, George IV requested that his coin portrait be changed. He proposed that the new portrait be modelled on a flattering marble bust of himself by the sculptor Sir Francis Chantrey.
The Chantrey bust of King George IV
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 mint officials to hang it in his studio, stubbornly turned it to face the wall. Eventually, the King agreed to sit for Pistrucci, but it soon became clear that the artist would not pander to his vanity. As the official record of Mint business was to note;
“To copy the work of another artist appeared to Mr. Pistrucci a degrading act. He declined obeying the order, and the Master was under the necessity of procuring an inferior artist to engrave the Dies from the Model.”
Unwilling to fire his celebrity engraver, Wellesley-Pole attempted to diffuse the situation by persuading Pistrucci’s French assistant Jean Baptiste Merlen to engrave the King’s portrait for the new gold double sovereign in 1823. Merlen did as he was instructed and modelled his design on the Chnatrey bust to comply with the King’s wishes.
The 1823 double sovereign with Merlen’s depiction of King George IV on the obverse
Merlen’s design marked a radical departure from traditional coin portraiture. It was the first time that a British monarch had appeared on a circulating coin without a laurel wreath or a crown, something which would have appealed to the King’s elegant style and reputation as a modern trendsetter.
Despite doing an admirable job, Merlen’s elegant ‘bare head’ portrait was destined to appear only on the 1823 double sovereign, making the coin particularly sought after today. His initials (JBM) appear under the truncated neck, and Pistrucci’s Saint George and the dragon masterwork appears on the reverse.
Unfortunately for Pistrucci, his friend and supporter Wellesley-Pole stepped down as Master later that year. His successor, Baron Thomas Wallace, was not prepared to tolerate the artist’s stubbornness in refusing to follow the King’s instructions. In a terse letter to his superiors, he reported that;
“The conduct of Mr Pistrucci in refusing to execute the order of the Master, in fulfilment of the King’s command, render him no longer of use to the Mint as Chief Engraver, whose peculiar duty it is to prepare the Head Dies for the Coin.”
Baron Wallace, Master of the Mint
Pistrucci’s unwillingness to create a new portrait that flattered the King would see him replaced at the Royal Mint by an artist who would. With Pistrucci out of royal favour, the designs he had created for Britain’s coinage were replaced, and he would not live to see his work appear on coins again.
The task of creating a new portrait for the nation’s circulating coinage was given to the mint’s Second Engraver, William Wyon. He also modelled his design on the Chantrey bust, as the King requested. Wyon’s ‘bare head’ portrait was much acclaimed and appeared on the nation’s coinage from 1825 until the King’s death in 1830.
Wyon’s bare head design on the 1825 sovereign, with Merlen’s heraldic shield design on the reverse
Just seven years after Pistrucci’s Saint George and the dragon had made a triumphant appearance on the first modern sovereign 1817, his masterwork was unceremoniously dropped from the sovereign. The unenviable task of creating a replacement design fell to Pistrucci’s French assistant. Merlen submitted a heraldic design incorporating the Ensigns Armorial (Royal Arms) of the United Kingdom on a crowned shield, with a smaller crowned shield in the centre featuring the Arms of Hanover. Today, his heraldic coin designs are recognised as some of the finest ever produced on British coins.
The rivalry in the royal mint engraving rooms only intensified when Wyon was made Chief Engraver in 1828. Pistrucci was appointed Chief Medallist so that he could complete his design for the long-awaited Waterloo Medal. It had been commissioned in 1819 and was to have been presented to the victorious powers. Knowing that he would be fired as soon as it was ready, Pistrucci did not complete the work until 1849.
The Industrial Revolution, which began in the middle of the eighteenth century transformed the nation’s need for money. People living off the land in rural Britain had 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.
For most of King George III’s reign, British coinage was in a desperately poor state, with very few coins being produced and the market flooded with badly worn coins, tokens, foreign currencies and counterfeits. A population explosion between 1750 and 1800 did not help matters, putting additional pressure on the already inadequate coinage.
Fortunately, the King’s final years would witness a transformation in the nation’s coinage that would not be seen again until decimalisation in 1971.
The landscape of Manchester was transformed by the Industrial Revolution
The Northumberland Shilling
The production of silver coins slowed to a trickle during the eighteenth century and they rarely appeared in day to day transactions. A shortage of silver led to the metal price becoming more costly than the face value of coins made from it. Consequently, there was no incentive for the Treasury to strike silver coins despite urgent appeals from the public to do so. Any coins that did appear were unlikely to spend long in circulation, being either hoarded or quickly melted down for their higher bullion value.
In 1763 a batch of silver shillings were struck for Hugh Percy, 1st Duke of Northumberland, who had been appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. He wanted to make an impression when he arrived in Dublin with his family in October 1763. To do this he had 2,000 new shillings struck, which he threw into the crowds that lined the streets to welcome him. The extravagant gesture cost him £100 but guaranteed him an enthusiastic reception, and the 1763 shilling would forever be known as the Northumberland Shilling.
Hugh Percy, 1st Duke of Northumberland by Joshua Reynolds
From records kept at the time, we know the Royal Mint struck more silver in 1763 than the 2,000 shillings required by the Duke to ingratiate himself with the people of Ireland. Any coins that were produced were a drop in the ocean compared to what was actually needed. Shillings would not be struck again until 1787.
The Northumberland Shilling 1763
Counterfeiting
During the first decade of the new King’s reign, the number of counterfeit copper coins in circulation increased dramatically. To combat this, in 1770 the Treasury ordered the Royal Mint to produce copper coins in huge quantities, and over the next six years, millions of farthings and halfpennies were struck and issued into circulation.
However, far from dissuading the counterfeiters the huge influx of quality copper into the market only facilitated the production of more fakes. A skilled fraudster could melt down one genuine coin and make two or three underweight coins with the metal. In 1775 the Treasury admitted defeat and the official Government coin presses fell silent again.
A counterfeit coin of George III
Counterfeiting was a serious offence punishable by death. On 18th March 1789, Catherine and Hugh Murphy were executed at Newgate Prison in London for coining. The term covered several offences, such as clipping bits off silver and gold coins to melt down, colouring coins to make them look more valuable, producing counterfeits and possessing the equipment to do so.
Coining was an act of high treason in that it was considered to be a crime committed against the King. Therefore, Catherine was not hanged alongside her husband. Instead, she became the last woman in Britain to be executed by burning at the stake, the penalty for female coin counterfeiters until 1790.
Catherine Murphy was burnt at the stake for coining in 1789
The counterfeiting law only applied to criminals making visually exact replicas. Many criminals took advantage of this legal loophole by making coins with deliberate errors in their inscriptions, trusting that people would be unlikely to spot the difference!
Shock Report
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. Only about eight per cent of ‘halfpennies’ in circulation were genuine. Genuine coins were often hoarded, and the fakes spent first, thereby proving Gresham’s Law that “bad money drives out good”.
Wear and tear over decades meant that smaller denominations were often so worn that it was impossible to discern the image that had once appeared on it. Some dated back to the reign of William III (1650 –1702) and had been allowed to circulate for a century.
The Royal Mint responded to the crisis by effectively shutting down. It produced no copper coins at all between 1775 and 1821. A small batch of silver shillings and sixpences were struck in 1787, but only because the Bank of England wanted to sell them to collectors looking for Christmas and birthday gifts. It was left to others to propose a solution to the problem.
Do coins have the power to bring GOOD LUCK? For centuries, many have believed this to be true. There are countless stories of how coins have ensured fortune and luck (and in some cases, the loss of a coin has led to failure and even disaster!) While your choice of a personal good luck charm remains completely up to you, let’s examine SEVEN of the most popular lucky coins around the world.
1. The Silver Sixpence (Great Britain)
In Great Britain, the Lucky Sixpence appears in the nursery rhyme Sing a Song of Sixpence as well as the tradition of hiding a Sixpence inside each British child’s Christmas Pudding to bring good luck for the new year.
Even better known is the mention of this coin in the famous wedding rhyme: “Something borrowed, something Blue, and a Sixpence for her shoe.” For centuries, brides have been wearing a sixpence coin in their shoes in the hope that their marriage be filled with prosperity and good luck. For that reason, British sixpence coins are among the most popular wedding gifts for brides.
2. The Lucky Irish Penny (Ireland)
The Lucky Irish Penny was minted in Ireland from 1928-1968. In 1926, as designs were being considered for this new coin, Irish poet William Butler Yeats was named the design committee’s chairman. Ultimately, the committee selected a design of the Irish harp, which traced its origins to a coin first issued by Henry VIII in 1534. The coin’s reverse side, it was decided, would feature a hen and chicks design as a tribute to Ireland’s tradition of agriculture.
These coins were first minted in 1928 and continued to be issued virtually unchanged until 1968. Struck in copper, each coin weighs approximately an ounce. The coin’s inscription is in Gaelic, the native language of Ireland.
Large and relatively inexpensive, the Lucky Irish Penny is a popular good luck piece carried in pockets throughout the world.
3. Leap Year Mercury Dimes (United States)
Many gamblers across the U.S. swear by the luck of the leap year Mercury Silver Dime. This widespread superstition likely stems from an overall belief in the power of silver coins coupled with Mercury being the god of “the crossroads” or fate, as well as chance. The leap year dates that occurred during the run of the Mercury Dime series are 1916, 1920, 1924, 1928, 1932, 1936, 1940, 1944.
The belief in the Leap Year Mercury Dime is particularly ironic, however, since this silver dime has long been misidentified as depicting the Roman god Mercury, when it actually features Lady Liberty wearing a winged cap – symbolizing freedom of thought.
4. The Five-Yen Coin (Japan)
Many Japanese people believe in destiny. The term “go-en” (ご縁) refers to those seemingly serendipitous encounters that result in long and meaningful relationships. The Japanese 5-yen coin is also called “go-en” 五円. Because it sounds the same as the “go-en” of destiny, many Japanese people believe that holding a 5-yen coin will help them discover what the Universe has in store for them. This could involve finding soulmate spouse, a perfect job, a dream home, or many other facets of life.
Similarly, 5-yen coins are commonly placed into offering boxes at shrines while one utters a prayer of thanks, followed by a wish for something in the future (always in that order). Because this belief all ties back to destiny, a 5-yen coin is seen as simply helping along the good luck and the serendipity that is actually always meant to be!
5. Vault Protector/Cash Coins (China)
In China, “cash coins” featuring a square hole in the middle hold a special meaning. The square in the centre represents the four corners of the Earth while the outer circle shape symbolizes the heavens around it. In ancient China, money was often frequently carried on strings rather than in purses. These coins are also often worn around the neck with a red ribbon as amulets to fight off negativity and illness.
Certain large and heavy cash coins are known as “Vault Protector” coins. Created only for special occasions, Chinese mints would sometimes cast large, thick, and heavy coins with a square hole in the centre. These coins were not for circulation – but instead occupied a special place at the treasury. The treasury had a spirit hall, where offerings could be made to gods such as the God of Wealth. These special coins would often be hung with red silk through their square hole, suspended above the incense table. They were called Vault Protector coins because they were believed to have charm-like powers to protect against evil and disaster, thus ensuring good fortune, prosperity, and wealth.
Giving a gift of Chinese cash coins ensures that the receiver is granted your wishes of wealth, prosperity and happiness.
Touch Pieces are coins that have been touched by rulers, monarchs or other powerful beings who are believed to hold their authority directly from God. Touch Piece coins were extremely auspicious and are said to have demonstrated healing powers.
Actually, this practice dates back to the Ancient Roman Empire. The Roman Emperor Vespasian (69-79AD) is reported to have initiated ceremonies during which he would hand out coins to the sick. This ceremony became known as “The Touching”.
Centuries later, the Kings and Queens of England and France embraced this practice – holding regular touching ceremonies up through 1714. The fact that an angel appeared on some British coins from the time of Henry VIII onward further cemented the tradition of the healing coin from the hand of your monarch. The British tradition of Maundy Money may have derived from this overall custom, as it features the monarch gifting specific subjects with token gifts of silver coins.
Of course, it wasn’t just about royalty. Clergymen were also known to hand out or even sell healing coins during ceremonies which were said to bring healing powers to the believer. There are many contemporary accounts of people being cured by this method. In a convenient bit of rationale, those who remained ill were accused of not having enough faith.
7. The Gold Angel (France)
As we have just seen, coins with angels on them have been treasured as tokens of good luck, health, and fortune. If a King or Queen handed an angel coin to a subject, it would often become a family heirloom – being handed down through the generations.
The legend of the Lucky French Gold Angel, however, has an even more dramatic start. During the French Revolution, Augustine Dupré, was standing on the platform waiting in line to lose his head to the guillotine. In his pocket, Dupré carried a gold coin that he himself had engraved, a French Gold Angel. He believed that carrying the coin with him would protect him from evil and danger. Sure enough, faced with the dire prospect of the guillotine, the Angel delivered him!
Legend holds that moments before his execution, a huge thunder roared and lightning struck, scaring the executioner and delaying the planned execution. Before it could be rescheduled, Dupré was granted a pardon – and thus the Gold Angel saved his life.
Inspired by this tale, Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte also carried a Lucky Gold Angel—but legend reports that he lost his coin just the day before the Battle of Waterloo. We all know the outcome of that battle!
Dupré’s angel design was revived from 1871 to 1898 on 20 Franc and 50 France gold coins. The coin’s legend continued into the 20th century, with sea captains and fighter pilots in both World Wars believing the coin brought them luck and protection.
SPECIAL BONUS: Personal Lucky Charm Coins
The above list details some of the most popular and longstanding lucky coins from around the globe. But you may, in fact, find your own lucky coin(s) quite a bit closer to home.
Commonly, coins dated from your birth year or other significant milestone in your life are believed to be lucky. Also, if you are from an immigrant background, treasuring a coin from the country your parents or grandparents came from is often considered a way to ensure good luck, prosperity and fortune.
No matter what the source, look around you today and see if you can’t pocket a special coin to bring you luck, prosperity, and happiness!
Steve Wolff is an American numismatist, writer, and video producer who has spent over 20 years sharing the fascinating stories behind coins and the historical events and personalities that inspired and shaped them.
Have you ever wondered why the head of the monarchs appear to look either to the left or the right – and if there is a system with it? Short answer, it’s both complicated and fun.
Long traditions for facing right
Faces on coins first appeared in the 6th century BC, but it was during the following century that profiles of gods and goddesses appeared frequently. The most famous is probably the Owl tetradrachm of Athens. The much-copied tetradrachm and stater of Alexander the Great also looked right. There were exceptions to this rule, for example the Corinth Pegasus stater, but the dominating coins looked right.
Roman emperors almost always looked to the right. Given the significance of these coins, this made right-facing coins dominant both in Rome and in many countries copying them. The outwards-looking solidus coins of the Byzantine Empire did not catch on, and right was the direction to look.
There might be an easy explanation: We write from left to right. This means that this is the “preferred” way of looking. We also know that the devil is associated with the left, and the word “sinister” comes from the Latin word for “left”.
The English Switch
Another interesting development is that queens like Elizabeth I of England and Christina of Sweden often looked to the left. And this might have been the reason for a typical English tradition.
Henry VII and Henry VIII both looked right and straight ahead in some cases. Mary I and Elizabeth I both looked left. James I faced both left and right depending on the coin. Charles I looked left, but Charles II looked both ways. Finally, his younger brother, James II, looked only to the left – and the monarchs that followed him have alternated between looking left and right, all the way down to our current monarch…
Of course, there is one interesting exception to the rule, and it is our old friend, Edward VIII. He was supposed to look to the right, but preferred the left side of his face, and insisted on looking the “wrong” way. The tradition from 1685 onwards did not seem to bother him. The coin was prepared, but no coins made it into circulation. When he abdicated, the Royal Mint pretended that his coin was made with him looking to the right. Therefore, the George VI coin was made with him looking to the right again to keep in tradition.
What could be more British than insisting that a coin never circulated was made with the opposite design to the one it had so that tradition was upheld?
The Emperor and the King
When it comes to portraits, Scandinavia did a bit of everything. Denmark insisted on always looking to the right, whereas Sweden from 1907 onwards always looked to the left. With all due respect to the Anglo-French enmity, this is the real long-standing feud in Europe. Norway, on their part, did exactly like Britain and switched sides.
France, however, is where things get very confusing. It seemed as they alternated every other turn, because Louis XIII and XIV looked to the right, and Louis XV and XVI predominately looked to the left. Then you have the cat among the pigeons: Napoleon. He decided to look to the right, probably to symbolize a new time in opposition to Louis XVI. When he was deposed and Louis XVIII took over, the new king was quick to look to the left again. This is hardly surprising. Louis XVIII was the brother of the deposed and executed Louis XVI. Making a break with Napoleon made sense. When he died, his brother Charles X took over, also looking to the left. When he was deposed in the 1830 revolution, the once-radical Louis Philippe was made king, and perhaps to make a stand against the two conservative kings who preceded him, he faced right.
And now we end up with the wisest fool in Christendom, Napoleon III. In 1851 he was crowned emperor. This made him the second emperor in traditional counting, however the Bonaparte family claimed that Napoleon Bonaparte’s son was emperor for a couple of weeks. This meant that either Napoleon I looked right, and an imaginary coin of Napoleon II would look to the left and Napoleon III should look to the right again or that all emperors, like in Ancient Rome, should look to the right.
Napoleon III looked to the left. Because of course he did.
This might have meant that he considered himself a continuation of the kings of France rather than an abomination with his own rules. It could have had another explanation. After all, Napoleon III was the man who Karl Marx had in mind when he coined the phrase “History repeats itself, first as a tragedy, then as a farce“. Napoleon III was in either case the last monarch of the French.
Andreas Kolle is a Norwegian historian cum laude and the resident historian for Samlerhuset Norway. A professional copywriter with 10 years of experience, Andreas also keeps the Samlerhuset blog active by covering a range of numismatic and historical topics. He has a contagious love for all things numismatic and historical and adheres to the QI adage that there is no such thing as an uninteresting item.
