Sixpence Witch Piece. Is your Butter protected?

The necromancer is among friends when hanging out with cunning men and wise women. We are in the same business -- namely, relieving the bewitched or haunted.
   No one likes to suffer from the foretelling of a witch. Even cows could be affected by an evil spell. If the milk did not flow, then perhaps the cow was bewitched.
   There were several remedies. One strategy described in the 1400s was to boil the milk over a fire and beat the kettle -- hard -- with a stick. This would harm the witch since the casting of a spell "connected" the witch to cow. Another strategy used in colonial times was to cut the tongue of the cow with a sharpened silver coin; this would hurt the witch and end the spell.

   It seemed that dairies were particularly vulnerable. Milk production and butter churning were not well understood in medieval and early modern times. Few folks appreciated the impact of environmental variables on dairy processes -- temperature, bacteria, and the like were mysterious. Hence, sour milk and failed butter were attributed to maleficia -- that is, the harms due to witches.
   Coins were used as talismans to keep witches away.
   A bent sixpence was placed in the milk pail. Or, a bent sixpence was buried in the yard where the cows were milked. Sometimes, four bent sixpences were needed: one placed at each corner of the barnyard, thereby protecting the entire square.
   The bending -- often a single bend down the middle -- was important. This allowed the coin to pass into the spiritual world. It was an ancient tradition. In medieval times, a bent weapon or tool was buried with the deceased so that the same would be available in the afterlife.
   Previously in this blog, I described love token benders that were unearthed at Jamestown. These pieces were bent so that the vow extended beyond the corporeal world.

So imagine my surprise to find a so-called "witches piece" for sale by a UK dealer. It was a bent Elizabethan sixpence. As it turns out, these pieces are quite common. It has been estimated that one in ten pieces were bent for magical reasons. Witchcraft was a daily fear. There were many accusations and trials. One needed to take action.
   Of course there is no way to know how this particular sixpence was used. Was it just a mutilated coin? Was it bent to make change, but the break never completed? Was it bent by a plow blade? Maybe the dealer bent it so as to raise its value as a curiosity piece? These are all good questions.
   Still, the prevalence of bent sixpences in UK hoard finds and metal detecting reports suggest that many "witch pieces" have been discovered. After all, the English liked milk and butter.
   Perhaps I'll put this one in our milk so that it will be protected from the witches down the lane. I saw a hare in the yard yesterday, and now I am worried.

Relic Coins are akin to Rat Rods & Worn Pie Safes

I live among relics.
Some folks regard me as a relic. And that's okay -- I've been around.
As a necromancer, I enjoy relics.

For most coin collectors, oldness is something special. But a small group of die-hard collectors enjoy the actual wear and tear of circulated and lost coins -- relic coins.
   Some date/mint and variety collectors will "tolerate" a relic coin because it is the only option, but this is not the same thing as loving the unloved. They will unload the relic as soon as a better one becomes available.
   But, some of us will treasure the relic coin above all else.
   Worn or corroded surfaces tell it like it is. This is our only connection to the secret lives of our coins. Coins with surfaces smoothed by fingertips and corrugated by corrosion are exciting because they reflect life. They connect us with the past -- a past that was full of action.
   There is an aesthetic here that is more common than you might think. Many folks have developed an eye for the relic. Some like to use the gentle word "patina" to describe what they love. Others, more boldly, just call it the "battered" look -- they like to say: "There is beauty in decay." Still others, like to put oldness at the forefront, as in the "primitive" look.

Consider the following: a crusty rush light, a tattered pie safe, a rusted C10 rat rod ... the old look is cool. It makes us feel a certain way -- only Dr. Freud can tell us why. But we know that the feeling is powerful and runs deep.
   Why not crusty, tattered, and rusted coins?