Loving the Unloved: Exfoliating Large Cent is Terrifying

The pioneering large cent cataloger, William Sheldon, waxed romantic about the wonderful colors that adorn old copper coins. In an oft-quoted passage, he remarked in Penny Whimsy that large cents were as beautiful as fall foliage. I have quoted this one before, but it is worth repeating.
   As he put it: "You see rich shades of green, red, brown, yellow, and even deep ebony; together with blending of these not elsewhere matched in nature save perhaps in autumn leaves."
   But what happens when those autumn leaves begin to fall to the ground?
   Dear William did not wait around for this. His colorful cents were largely smooth pieces with little to no build-up of corrosion products -- the stuff that shouts out in a rush of color that the end is near.
   No, he shunned these honest pieces that tell it like it is. As such, his cents were not so colorful in my opinion. Or very interesting.
   Here is one of my favorite cents. It shouts. The blue-green accumulation of carbonates and sulfates is flaking off. Underneath, a raw layer of cuprite remains. The fiery surface is rough like an open wound: pink, red, and brown. It makes me cringe just to look at it. The cent -- if it had been left in the dirt -- would have deteriorated quickly from this point.
   This is what happens to autumn leaves when they fall and rot in a heap.
   Perhaps this is why dear William -- RIP -- did not have any corroded large cents. In fact, he went through extraordinary lengths in upgrading his collection to avoid them.
   Maybe he found corroded cents terrifying, as nothing lasts forever.
   Corroded cents are terrifying! As Charles Dickens described it: ruins possess an "awful beauty."

Do Like a Necromancer Part 5: Cultivating Coin Nostalgia

The necromancer coin collector is a person who wants to go back in time. There are many reasons for this longing, but right now, it is enough to appreciate that many coin collectors fantasize about visiting colonial sites, civil war battlefields, and early five&dime stores.
   I was surprised to learn that nostalgia was initially considered to be an illness born of hard times. It is said that immigrants are prone to this ailment when struggling to adjust to a new cultural landscape. For our purposes, we can think of nostalgia as a longing to visit a past that is remembered (or fantasized) as better than today. The old adage goes something like this: Times were simpler then.
   Certainly the past seems safer than today. After all, it has already happened, so there are no surprises. We know how everything turned out. It is the present day that is unpredictable and scary.

Gumball machines can spark feelings of nostalgia.

   Nevertheless, the budding necromancer coin collector is well advised to cultivate their sense of nostalgia. This longing enhances the collecting experience. We cannot animate old coins without it. A purely intellectual approach to history is simply not enough. Rather, it is the nostalgic collector (real or imagined)  that becomes a coin necromancer.
   All nostalgia comes from having had yesterdays. History, too, is an experience that stems from our own prior experiences. But our memories are inaccurate -- that is, we change how we view the past (history) with each retelling. All history is part remembrance and part fancy.
   For coin collectors who are historically-minded, the experience of nostalgia is broadened to include what we have learned about history. And like our memories, the book knowledge we have attained becomes distorted, as it is mixed with our own values, ideas, and memories. Hence, we find ourselves longing for a yesterday we never experienced. All this is very natural, and we want to nurture it.
   One way to do this (or at least get started) is to think about our own yesterdays. For me, this takes me to the late-60s when my coin collecting first began. As I have said on the blog before, you never want to let go of those seminal feelings that started you off on this numismatic journey -- one coin at a time.
   I can remember when I first took notice of the older coins that still circulated. Can you?
   And so, I encourage you to take the first step in cultivating your sense of nostalgia, starting with your yesterdays. Do you remember when coin collecting was fresh? When it was driven only by curiosity?
   Your task then, is to collect (or re-collect) those coins that were in your hand back then. Rekindle that excitement. This exercise will get you thinking about how and why coins became important talismans for you.
   But don't stop with a few cents and nickels from your childhood days. Why not add some items from when you were spending these coins? As we have seen, other objects enliven your coins; for example, a Civil War coin collection is not really complete without a few Minnie Balls and battlefield relics.
   For me, I am thinking about gumball machines. My childhood memories would not be complete without these ever patient and trustworthy vendors.
   Before I began collecting, the gumball machine represented my first act of consumerism. After collecting, I wondered about what cents were inside. And so, I long to go back for the gum, for the simpler times of my pre-teen years, and to see -- first hand -- what cents were inside those wonderful machines.

Coming Soon: A Book about Collecting Battered and Corroded Coins

I am working on a manuscript about collecting battered and corroded coins. It was something I had to do for reasons that I will explain later. In fact, I have been agitating to move ahead with this project for some time now.
   The manuscript is full of colorful photos depicting corroded coins in full bloom. These are evocative pieces, coins that hit you in the gut.
   There have been tentative stabs at this topic from conservative numismatists (e.g., G. Welter and W. White). But their efforts have largely focused on the nature of corrosion itself -- namely, the electrochemical cell, redox reactions, and so on. This is all fine, but these authors are not necromancer coin collectors; rather, they are like meteorologists warning of a destructive storm. Hence, they miss the big picture and leave out the best parts.
 
   As a way of introduction, I will share a few paragraphs of the manuscript's Preface.

A large cent caked with verdigris is not typically found on a collector's want list, but it should be. It is a relic, and like a rusty hand-wrought nail dug from a flowerbed, it has a story. Relic coins prompt questions: who lost it; when did it happen; and how did this lowly cent survive the onslaught of Mother Nature? It is a mystery -- one worth holding in your hand.

Yet, most collectors find relic coins disgusting and are surprised that anyone would want them. Those that do are branded as rebels or as just ignorant. Either way, loving the unloved raises eyebrows and invites misunderstanding.

... . 

This book is about corrosion: the death knell of coins. We celebrate it, not because we are rebels, or because we are in denial, but because we are true collectors who have stumbled on to something engaging. Loving the unloved is not meant to be a declaration boldly shouted to rile our fellows; rather, it is just collecting.

We develop story-lines with objects because we are meaning-makers. In our heads, we are historians; in our hearts, we are post-modernists creating history. We are artists, too. And art often involves seeking out the "awful beauty" that Charles Dickens described when he first set eyes on the ruins of Rome. This beauty finds its energy within the darker emotions evoked by loss, decay, and death. Herein lies the allure of battered and corroded coins.

Stay tuned. It will be a coin book like no other.

Old Sails: Tracking a Storm in 1593

I recently purchased a jeton from a friend. It was a colorful piece, mildly corroded and worn. I like it this way, especially since it was from the 16th century. It looks old. Besides, there were two ships pictured on the obverse -- I could not pass it up.
   I had no idea that this piece would lead me on a search for a violent storm that occurred in 1593. But that is how it goes with these Old Sails, there is always a story to be told. This is particularly true for Dutch jetons, as they typically commemorated some event.
   This jeton (note: it is a counting piece of bronze, in low relief, thin as a fingernail, but broad at 29mm) showed two fully-rigged carracks heading past a spit of land. On the shore there is a church with a hipped roof and tall steeple. Thick clouds are overhead, although the sea looks calm enough. On the reverse, the arms of Zeeland sit atop crossed anchors. The jeton is dated 1593.
   It is beautiful piece with nice details, unevenly toned as if set aside in the back of a drawer for many years. I wonder who it was given to? Who set it aside? And, how was it discovered again? It was not money; rather, it was a piece that was meant to captivate whoever held it. Maybe that is why is survived for 400+ years.
   I searched the legend on the Internet: IDEM.PROTECTOR.ET.HOSIS -- it translates to "Friend and enemy alike." The reverse legend reads: LVCTOR.ET.EMERGO -- it translates to "Struggling I emerge." So what do these words mean?
   My first lead was a listing for this jeton at the National Maritime Museum in the UK. The description was concise: "Counter commemorating losses by storm, 1593." With this information, the legends made sense to me as suggesting that the weather (winds in particular) are "friend and enemy alike." The obverse suggests that not all was lost.
   So what about the storm? A search of storms in 1593 uncovered several citations. Apparently, there was a fiery storm on Christmas Eve that hit Texel Roads in the north of Holland in 1593. Twenty-four ships sank that night with 1050 sailors lost in the waves. Another reference claimed that 40 ships were lost. All told, there were about 150 ships in the harbor waiting for favorable winds -- so indeed, all was not lost.
   Texel Roads was a relatively safe harbor, located north of Amsterdam. Many merchant ships could not enter the Amsterdam harbor due to its shallow depth; consequently, they sailed north to Texel to load and unload in the calm waters of the Wadden Sea. Still, storms took their toll over the years, as over 60 shipwrecks have been found in this area. One reference suggested that there was an increase in stormy weather during the period between 1593 and 1597 due to climate changes.
   I found it uncanny that Shakespeare included the following lines in Venus and Adonis, published in 1593: "Like a red morn that ever yet betokened; wreck to the seamen ...  ." This is a restating of an old bit of mariners' wisdom: "Red sky at night, sailors' delight; Red sky at morning, sailors' take warning."
   I guess the sky was red on the morning of December 24, 1593.