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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When Currency Was Canvas: The numismatic art of lost nations

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

Ancient Hellenistic coin featuring a profile of a man with curly hair and ram's horn on one side, and a seated woman holding a figure and shield on the reverse side.

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. 

Golden Byzantine solidus coin featuring a detailed portrait of Christ Pantocrator with a beard and a religious iconography background.

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.

Gold coin from the Austro-Hungarian Empire featuring a bust of Emperor Franz Joseph I on one side and an allegorical representation of Liberty on the other, with intricate detailing and inscriptions.

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 featuring intricate Arabic inscriptions on both sides.

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.

Three coins featuring distinct designs from the Weimar Republic, including a silver coin with an eagle emblem, a gold coin depicting sheaves of wheat, and another silver coin showcasing a bird, symbolizing the artistic movements of early 20th-century Germany.

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.

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.

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.

A Roman coin featuring the profile of Domitian II on one side and an image representing Peace on the reverse, showcasing the historical significance and detailed craftsmanship of ancient numismatics.

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…

D-Day 80th Anniversary: A Normandy Gallery

On June 6th 2024, Samlerhuset coin experts had the incredible honour of touring legal tender D-Day coins across the beaches of Normandy – site of one of the most carefully planned out and pivotal days of the Second World War. Days during which so many brave men and women gave their lives fighting for their country.

Commemorating the invasion of Pegasus Bridge on June 6th 1944, this extraordinary set of two gold coins depicts a British soldier in the forefront of the design, with Pegasus Bridge in the background and other soldiers holding the bridge. One coin has been issued by Monnaie de Paris, the French state mint, and the other issued by British territory Gibraltar. Together, these coins beautifully symbolize the Allied forces valor and determination that fateful day.

Deputy Sales Director Rodolphe Krempp of Monnaie de Paris with The London Mint Office Managing Director Christopher Wood at Batterie de Merville, which was neutralized by the 9th British Parachute Battalion.

Certificates of Authenticity for this set were signed in Normandy by Monnaie de Paris President and CEO Marc Schwartz and The London Mint Office Managing Director Christopher Wood.

Monnaie de Paris CEO Marc Schwartz and Head of Design Joaquin Jimenez presenting coins to French President Macron.

Remembrance ceremonies were held on the beaches of Normandy to commemorate this pivotal day in history and to remember those who sadly never returned home.

The coins toured the five landing areas, starting at Gold Beach where troops of the British 50thInfantry landed on June 6th 1944.

Carthage: Courage and Conquest

JW Turner’s The Rise of the Carthaginian Empire (1815)

What remains of the ancient city of Carthage, near the modern city of Tunis in North Africa, was designated as a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1971. The ruins tell a story of total destruction and annihilation. Here lived a people who were one of the most influential civilisations in the ancient world, a people who almost changed the course of Western civilisation so how could it be that virtually all trace of their being was put to the torch? 

This is the story of Carthage, its rise to glory and its demise at the hands of one of Rome’s great generals, Scipio Aemilianus. Apart from the beautiful coins produced within Carthage’s powerful empire, all that survives are the accounts of ancient Greece and Rome, both vengeful enemies of the state. We hear of a group of depraved monsters, greedy, treacherous and brutal who readily sacrificed their own children to cruel gods. However, we need to remember that both ancient Greece and Rome had an axe to grind. 

Carthage was one of the largest and richest cities in antiquity and the power it held within the Mediterranean was a threat. Carthage was founded a hundred years earlier than Rome in c.814, it’s said by an exiled priestess fleeing her native city of Tyre in ancient Phoenicia, now Lebanon. The Greeks named her Dido and legend told of how she came to found Carthage and become its queen. Upon landfall in north Africa she led her people to a local Berber chieftain in the hope of acquiring some land to settle and make home. The chieftain replied that she could have  “as much land as could be encompassed by an oxhide”. Thinking on her feet, Dido cut the hide into strips and stretched them around a large hill name Byrsa or “hide”, an alternative name for Carthage. 

In carving out the earth for their new settlement the Tyrians discovered an ox’s head and all activity came to a halt. This was a bad omen that foretold the city would be wealthy but “laborious and always enslaved”. The decision was taken to dig elsewhere and fortune smiled upon the tired colonists for a horse’s head was found in the freshly dug earth. In Phoenician culture the horse was a symbol of courage and conquest, foretelling that Dido’s new city would rise to greatness. 

And so it was that Carthage, a name which derived from the Phoenician Qart-Hadasht meaning “New City”, came into being. 

Mother of pearl, coral, amber and ebony

For centuries, Carthage was a mere outpost of its mother city, Tyre, but by 509 B.C. it was independent enough to negotiate a commercial treaty with the new Republic of Rome. Bringing with them their Phoenician penchant for seafaring and trade, the Carthaginians set about establishing themselves in the mediterranean as its most dominant power. One of its main advantages was the supremely dominant position it held in the Gulf of Tunis. Here it was close to Sicily, Italy, Sardinia and Corsica and not too distant from the Balearic Islands, Spain and Gaul (modern day France). 

From Carthage, trade could be completely controlled. Through domination of the seas it became the overlord of a vast network of trade which stretched to the west of Africa and into northern Europe. It’s even said that Britain’s first contacts with the classical world were through Carthaginian merchants who came in search of tin. Commodities from all over the ancient world flowed in and out of Carthage and its network of cities and satellite states which was larger than any other power in the region. 

Within his poem, Ithaca, the Greek poet, Constantine Cavafy, gives a vivid recounting of the lush goods which would have abounded in and around these ports; ‘…May there be many summer mornings when, with what pleasure, what joy, you enter harbors you’re seeing for the first time; may you stop at Phoenician trading stations to buy fine things, mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony, sensual perfume of every kind, as many sensual perfumes as you can’. 

This great source of richness was coupled with ready access to abundant fertile land and an enterprising culture in the working of it. The writings of Mago of Carthage on farming and animal husbandry were considered as being of such importance that they were among the few to be spared by the Romans after their destruction of the city. This innovation was coupled with Carthage’s revolutionary idea of the ‘flat pack’ ship which was the first to have been produced using a standardised design and construction. This was part of the foundation which saw Carthage secure itself as one of the largest and most powerful navies in the ancient Mediterranean. 

As long as money clinks, my captain I’ll obey

Both Carthage’s army and its navy were lead by powerful families, mainly the Magonids and Barcids, who spent vast sums on piecing together a burgeoning force of foreign mercenary soldiers. One of the main struggles which ancient Carthage sought in expanding its sphere of power and influence was over the island of Sicily and its main city-state of Syracuse. 

Beginning in the 480s B.C., two centuries of bitter warfare would see Carthage establish a network of fortresses and mints which protected and paid its mercenary forces both in Sicily and in its hard-fought lands in Spain and Sardinia. This network first came into being when Carthage established its coinage c.410 B.C. in Sicily itself. 

Control of the island and beyond could only be secured if Carthaginian coins chinked in the purses of its soldiers of fortune. To this end, Carthaginian ships made daring voyages as far as West Africa to trade for gold. In around 350 B.C. a super-attractive new gold stater was produced specifically to pay Carthage’s forces. It was adorned with two of the powerful city-state’s most potent symbols, the Phoenician goddess, Tanit, and Dido’s omen of good fortune, the horse. 

Carthage,_c.350-320_BC,_Stater – Photo Credit: Classical Numismatic Group, Inc

Tanit was Carthage’s patron deity, bestowing protection and good fortune upon it. She was a mother goddess, representing fertility, love, the moon, stars and sky, cycles of life, strength, abundance and much more. Tanit was worshipped throughout North Africa, Spain, Malta, Sardinia and Rome but her most well known temples were found in Carthage itself. 

Her bust closely resembles coins which were produced by Carthage’s nemesis in Sicily; Syracuse, which depict their own deities such as the nymph Arethusa. It should be said that these coins of Syracuse have been identified by numismatists as being the very pinnacle of ancient art, unsurpassed until at least the nineteenth century, so this is a proud numismatic heritage to speak of. 

Tanit wears a wreath of grain, referencing fertility and abundance. Her neutral facial expression is said to denote nobility and a transcendence of earthly concerns, just like the Greek coins from which she is modeled. According to Carthage’s enemies, this beauty and divine wonder was underpinned by a much darker side. Ancient writers say that zealous Carthaginians gladly gave their children’s lives as sacrifices to honour their patron goddess, Tanit, and her consort Baal-Hamon. 

Adorned Statue of the Punic Goddess Tanit, 5th–3rd centuries BC, from the necropolis of Puig des Molins, Ibiza (Spain), now housed in the Archaeology Museum of Catalonia (Barcelona)

Nowadays, however, these claims have been questioned as ancient attempts to paint the Carthaginians in a bad light although it is still a possibility. This being as it may be, Tanit’s status as the primary deity of ancient Carthage is undeniable. The choice of a horse as her counterpart on Carthage’s gold staters too shows the significance which they gave to this majestic animal. To the Carthaginians it may have been a proud representation of their foundation story, a subject which was commonly depicted on coins of the ancient city-states. 

However, because the myth was recounted by a later Roman writer named Justin, its uncertain whether or not the Carthaginians knew of it. Another interpretation of the horse is that it refers to the military purpose of the staters. On some Carthaginian coins the horse is shown with the goddess of victory, Nike, who holds a wreath and a caduceus. The wreath was a symbol given to victors in contests and battles and so the horse may represent the military might and success of Carthage. Military success, though, in the ancient world required money and a lot of it. 

Weathering the storm

The wars in Sicily against Syracuse and beyond required huge resources and over time Carthage’s gold staters contained more and more silver. From 320 B.C. they have been classed as electrum which is a mixture of silver and gold. 

A further draw on resources came when North Africa was invaded by Agathocles of Syracuse in 310-307 B.C.. Agathocles sought to subdue Carthage and use its wealth to fund his wars. Allied with Libyans and Berbers, Carthage was able to see off Agathocles and continued to prosper until it came into conflict with a new enemy, then just a small city-state on the Tiber River in Italy; Rome. 

While the electrum staters ceased to be produced in around 280 B.C., their designs remained the staple of Carthage’s coinage right until the bitter end. Carthage would soon, in 264 B.C., embark on a series of three wars with Rome, known as the Punic Wars (deriving from the Phoenician word for the citizens of Carthage and in Latin reading Punicus), which would ultimately spell disaster and utter destruction for this once great city-state. Not even the efforts of one of their most famous names, the distinguished general, Hannibal Barca, could save them. 

After the loss of the first Punic War in 241 B.C. Carthage’s treasury was so depleted that it was reduced to coining debased silver and over-valued bronze coins. Under the terms of the treaty devised by Rome, Carthage had to pay 1,000 talents of gold immediately, plus another 2,000 talents over the next decade, amounting to an eye-watering 78,000 kilograms of bullion, or some 8.3 million gold staters! The second Punic War was meted out between 218B.C. and 201 B.C. and again Carthage was overcome. This time Rome stripped Carthage of its hard-fought colonies, denied it of its navy and forced it to pay another huge indemnity. 

Carthago delenda est

By the time of the third Punic War of 149 B.C. to 146 B.C. Rome had come to the end of its tether. Its elite came to believe that only total annihilation of Carthage could ensure Rome’s security. It was in the build-up to this last and most famous phase of the wars that Roman Republican politician, Cato, ended all his speeches with the words; Carthago delenda est, ‘Carthage must be destroyed’. 

Roman naval attack on Carthage. Photo credit: WorldHistory.org

And so it was that the might of the Roman Republic came down on Carthage in the form of a three-year siege, beginning in 149 B.C. The city had a population estimated at 700,000 and the vast majority of them were wiped out. In the spring of 146 B.C the Romans launched their final assault and over seven days systematically destroyed the city and slay its inhabitants. 

Only on the last day was the order given by Rome’s commander, Scipio Aemillianus, to take prisoners. 50,000 citizens were rounded up to be sold into slavery. Carthage’s top-of-command, Hasdrubal, pleaded for his life and freedom. This was observed by his wife who cursed her husband and with her children walked into a temple engulfed with flames. 

The ancient historian, Polybius, was present at the final destruction of Carthage alongside Scipio and it’s said that; ‘Scipio, when he looked upon the city as it was utterly perishing and in the last throes of its complete destruction, is said to have shed tears and wept openly for his enemies’. 

Such was the destruction that apparently not one stone was left on top of another. The site was cursed and according to a 19th century myth, sown with salt to prevent any crop ever growing there again. Despite this inglorious end and scornful treatment, a century after the war ended, Julius Caesar planned to rebuild Carthage as a Roman city but little work was done. 

Augustus revived the project in 29 B.C. and by the time of the Empire it had become one of the main cities of Roman Africa. It appears from the history books that Rome had a grudging respect for Carthage as confirmed by the Roman politician, Cicero, who wrote; ‘Carthage would never have held an empire for six hundred years had it not been governed with wisdom and statesmanship’. 

Such sentiments developed into full-scale equanimity on 5 February 1985 in a symbolic peace treaty which was signed by the mayors of Rome and modern Carthage, 2,131 years after the war ended.

The Poison King: Mithradates VI

Greatness reborn

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 cardamomanise, dried rose leaves, parsleyfrankincensemyrrhrhubarb root, saffronginger, 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.

The First Franc – a King’s Ransom

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.

Portrait of King John II, the Good aged 30–31

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 First U.S. Commemorative?  A Gold Rush Treasure Story

Image courtesy of Professional Coin Grading Service (PCGS)

While the 1892 Columbian Half Dollar is officially published as America’s first commemorative coin, there is another legendary issue that many argue is the true heir to this prestigious title:  The 1848 “CAL.” Gold Quarter Eagle

The reason for this claim? The 1848 Gold piece was minted from the very first gold sent east from the famous California Gold Rush, and each coin bears a special “CAL.” Stamp above the eagle as recognition of the pedigree and source of the gold.

Born in the Gold Fields of California

On January 28, 1848, gold was discovered at Sutter’s Mill near Coloma, California – and this single event ignited one of the most exciting times in the young nation’s history. People from all over the country, and indeed, the world, flooded into the gold fields of California and surrounding areas armed with rustic tools, a strong back, and the dream of striking it rich.  

Between 1848 and 1855 an estimated 300,000 people arrived in the California territory.  Settlements quickly sprung up, many of which would become cities which thrive to this very day. San Francisco became a boom town – eventually getting its own branch mint to strike coins from all the gold being mined from the surrounding countryside. Transportation also rapidly improved – including advancements in railroads and steamships – and this all fueled the further development of California.

All these changes ultimately led to the admission of California into the Union as a state in 1850 – only two years after the Sutter’s Mill discovery!

Gold Rush Gold Travels East

Less than a week after the original discovery at Sutter’s Mill, California’s military governor, Col. Richard B. Mason, ordered Lt. Lucien Loeser to immediately depart for Washington, D.C. carrying samples of the newly found California gold.  This first gold, packed in a tea caddy, made the long overland journey to the East coast, where it ultimately ended up at the Philadelphia Mint to be assayed (tested for purity.)  

After it was assayed, the Philadelphia Mint struck an estimated 1,389 gold Quarter Eagles ($2.50 denomination) made exclusively from this California gold.  To commemorate this event, the abbreviation “CAL.” was counter stamped into the surface of each coin – directly above the head of the eagle.   

A Legend Is Born

Because of this incredible pedigree and the commemorative nature of the CAL. designation, many argue that the 1848 CAL Gold Quarter Eagle truly deserves the honor of being called the First US Commemorative Coin.  

Only 1,389 coins were ever stuck, and only a fraction of that mintage have survived to this day.  The coin’s romantic story, great historical significance and scarce numbers have all served to make it incredibly popular and justifiably valuable.  

A review of the major grading services reveals that this gold treasure has been submitted for grading around 127 times, and they have achieved grades from Good 6 to MS68.  These days, an 1848 CAL Quarter Eagle in Mint State 60 grade is valued at around $130,000 – while the same coin in highest grade can be expected to bring $475,000 – $800,000 at auction. 

Buyer Beware!

Of course, as one might suspect, the nature of the CAL counter stamp and the high value of these rarities have led to many forgeries of this historically significant rarity over the decades.