Collecting Jamestown: Part 12. Mysterious Phoenix Token in Pit 1.

One of my favorite tokens found at Jamestown is the Phoenix.

This chunky lead token was unearthed in 1994 – one of the first tokens discovered within the fort. It was found in Pit 1, the very pit at the spot where Dr. Kelso first pricked the ground with his shovel on April 4, 1994.

   The four 10x10 squares (JR1 to JR4) produced all sorts of artifacts. Among the finds were the top half of a Bartmann jug, a crucible, pipe stems and bowls, beads, metal book clasps, a matchlock plate, jack plate, sword hangers, and of course, many pottery sherds. A complete cabasset helmet was found sitting upright on a ledge as if placed there. Maybe it was placed there! The pit (actually several overlapping pits) appeared to be filled in about 1610 – perhaps during the rebuilding of fort following the arrival Thomas West (Lord De La Warre).

Phoenix token dug in UK.

   The Phoenix token was found in the first square (JR1), just beneath some bricks that were buried under 11 inches of plowzone – not very deep. What a cool find; no other Phoenix tokens have been found at Jamestown. I do not believe that any more have been unearthed on the continent. As such, this single piece makes it part of the American colonial set.

   Although it is scarce, Phoenix pieces from Queen Elizabeth’s reign have been found in England. The obverse shows a crowned Tudor rose flanked by the letters ER (Elizabeth Regina) and encircled by the legend BEATY REGINA (Beatified Queen). On the obverse the legend reads SO LA PHOENIX MVN DYE (Only the Phoenix is Pure? – JT curator was unsure about this one, hence the question mark).

   The Phoenix on the reverse is dramatic and is not easy to interpret. In the field reports for 1995, Beverly Straube and Nicholas Luccketti conjecture that it represents Elizabeth’s efforts to protect the kingdom from the Roman Catholic Church, or it symbolizes the “Virgin Queen.” More research is needed here, but other data suggest the latter.

Next week, we will see what Michael Mitchiner said about this token, and we will explore the ones listed in the PAS database.

Have a Happy New Year!

Bowed Sixpences and the Holidays

Merry Christmas. 

I want to thank anyone who has read this blog; I hope you have enjoyed it. I enjoy the writing life, plus all the coins that provide the spark.

Pictured here is a coin that signifies good friends and good luck. It was dug in England.

By the way, twice-bent sixpences make great gifts. And, they carry a deeper meaning.

You might be interested to know that love-token benders (or “bowed” sixpences) began to show up in the Elizabethan era and were highly popular during the reign of William III. A few other denominations were bowed too, a few groats and thruppences for the most part.

If you examine the PAS database of all dug sixpences across the fields of England, you will find that about five percent of Elizabethan sixpences were bent, but only a quarter of these where love-token benders with the characteristic S-shape. In contrast, about one-third of all William III sixpences were bent, with nearly all of them being love-tokens. If there ever was a cultural practice that is reflected in the secondary life of coins, this is it.

Good Luck and Happy Holidays.

Loving the Unloved: Gut Responses in Coin Collecting (and Zombie Coins)

Our gut rules! So go with it!

   We like to think that our heads rule, but this is not so. Yes, we can plan; we can execute; and we can evaluate. But the living that we do -- the real living -- is shaped by our gut.
   Of course, our gut is connected to our brain -- the limbic system, that is. This is where our emotions reside -- all of them: rage, excitement, awe. This is the power center.

What spirits lie within? This relic shouts!

   Don't you want a coin that hits you in the gut? A coin that jolts the limbic system? Maybe not all the time, but at least some of the time?
   Relic coins do this.
   You cannot explain or analyze the allure of a relic piece in full corrosive bloom: you just feel it. This simply does not happen with glossy coins that lived their whole life in an envelope.
   Let's be real here: nice smooth copper is pleasing to look at just as elevator music is soothing. It is pretty: smooth with sharp details. Perhaps you get a mild rise out of it. But, these Jim-Dandies look just like the other pretty ones. Maybe one of the dentils is more crisp than on some other one. Or, perhaps the hair is just a tad sharper. Oh look! The L in Liberty has a full serif! Wow!
   A relic coin, on the other hand, is not smooth at all. It is not pleasing. Rather, it shouts! The details have given way to the ravages of time and Mother Nature. Each relic is unique. Each one is mysterious. They prompt questions: When was it lost? How long ago? Who found it?
   Relics look like us after half a century of living -- really living. And yet, folks run from relics, as if the relics are zombies! Yes, I like that: Relic coins are zombies!

   Why would anyone run from a relic that is steeped with such telling wear and tear? I think it is because they have learned to suppress what is happening in their gut. Yes, they have enlarged frontal lobes (Gee, that's nice). They know each dentil personally (also nice). But be forewarned, the gut will revolt one day: ulcerating in a pool of acid while you juggle your slabs.
   Now, let me say that there is nothing wrong with counting dentils ... BUT, relic coins can offer so much more. They are provocative. They jolt us to see the crush of the world in a way that is both horrific and awe inspiring. I dare say, relics have vitality -- an occult energy that only a necromancer can appreciate.
   And necromancy? Well, it is a skill -- like condition grading -- that can be honed with practice and experience. You do not need to call a cunning man to charm you -- just find an old relic like the one pictured and spend time with it.

   By the way, I am not at all surprised that kids are not drawn to coin collecting these days. The new and shiny, the smooth copper, the sharp details -- all this is boring. Face it: Condition grading is boring. It is a neurotic exercise, actually. Go ahead, give me a shiny American Eagle, and I'll feed it to the ducks. Learn to be a necromancer instead -- this is what will attract new collectors: old stuff that looks old ... and is filled with zombie spirits!

Collecting and Appreciating Relic Coins

There is a philosophy here.

If you read any of this blog, then you know that the necromancer approach to collecting is not about conjuring angry or evil spirits. Rather, it is about recognizing the magic in coins that come by their history honestly: they were spent, saved, spent again, maybe lost for awhile, and after all of this, you have it in your hand. Coins like this spark a childlike wonderment that many of us have lost.

Relic coins -- those that show the ravages of time -- are like the rusted bits that archeologists dig out of the dirt. They come directly to us ... from the hand of the poor bloke who lost the coin on a dark and rainy night. Yes, they have a story to tell.

Relics give us all the history and none of the anxiety. Many worry too much about condition grading, value, or showmanship. Relics, on the other hand, are honest bits of history, signposts of action that occurred long ago. For the most part, a shiny coin from a mint bag just cannot compare.

The introduction to this collecting philosophy is included in my book: Lost Cents, Dead Owners. I know you will like it. It is heartfelt. It represents an aspect of collecting that is free and steeped in the history of everyday life. It is the book that I wanted to read but could not find. And now that I have written it, I still enjoy reading it and musing about how a crusty old coin, caked with corrosion, can be so fascinating.

The book is offered by Wasteland Press for $24.95. This is not expensive for a coin book. It is a book for readers, not for looking up values, discerning grades, and other boring stuff.

To order it go to books123.org -- If the book come up on the main page, just click on it. If it does not come up on the main page, check under "best sellers" and you will find it.

Go ahead and try something different this holiday season. Tell others about it. I priced it to break even, so that we all can enjoy it. All the pictures are in color and are mesmerizing.

And then, I urge you to go out an find the coin that you imagined finding in the dirt when you were a kid. No slab, no value, no worry. Just a cool piece that is fun to own, fun to pass around to friends, and fun to keep on your bed stand as a "wonder" coin. I dare you!

Warning: Coin "Slabbing" Robs Collectors of their Soul: Part 2.

True collectors are delusional. They believe in the supernatural. Indeed, they seek magic and create new worlds.

   They have no need for condition grades.

   Why? Because they know – very well – what they want. They are home-schooled in the science of wear and tear. They look at coins, not the holder. And, they develop a keen sense of what they want.

True collectors – particularly the necromancers – believe that coins are steeped in history. They delight in contagion – that is to say, they believe that a coin touched by a colonist or patriot or (insert any dead person) is forever changed.

Free Me! Touch Me!

   Yes, this is an irrational stance. The frontal lobes must go offline. Dopamine – the juice that fuels the supernatural – flows uninhibited. It feels good to touch the past.

This is what necromancy is all about.

Condition grades – and all the silly codes such as F12, VF30, XF45 – are just shorthand for describing something that you cannot see. It is marketplace language for dealers and buyers. But once the coin is in hand, the terms are no longer useful.

   Yet, some so-called collectors cannot let go. They boast: “My coin grades VF, and I only paid a F price for it.” This is a bad sign. All you can do is pray for him, for he has lost his soul.

And for those blinded by the Cult of Mint State Coins, there is little hope. They have erased history with an obsession for blemishes. The press calls them heroes when they flash a MS-67 slab. “What an accomplishment,” they say.

Nothing has been accomplished.

Concerns about grading erode the collecting experience in other ways too. It creates anxiety. Did I pay too much? Was it a good buy? Oh, give that man a Xanax!

We also see symptoms exacerbated by slabs. Some so-called collectors agonize about whether to keep a newly acquired coin in the slab or to break it out. They are afraid to break it out – their brows are furrowed (and they die with deeply-lined foreheads). So sad that they have allowed the marketplace to highjack their collecting experience. If you cannot touch it, then why possess it?

And so, we come full circle, back to the supernatural. The true collector of old things is engaging in magic. He or she is creating history. There is no room for the collector-investor in this space. No room at all. Hence, grading coins by the alchemy of combining luster, strike, wear, and hits to arrive at some number makes no sense.

It just creates anxiety and a false sense of accomplishment.

Collecting Jamestown: Part 11. Groningen Token

It took me two years to find one.
   I scanned auction sites, searched case after case at shows, asked dealers who seemed to have it all. And finally, I got one.
   This token was produced in the 1590s for the city-state of Groningen. The slender copper piece was issued by the City Council and valued at three stuivers. They were apparently used to obtain beer and wine at the Rathskeller (city pub).
   Groningen was a trading center and member of the Hanseatic League; it was a powerful and independent city-state until it became part of the Habsburg empire in about 1536. Afterwards it joined the Republic of the Seven United Provinces. The token was minted during the Dutch Revolts.

This token came from the ground in England.
The PAS lists five others from the eastern counties.
Jamestown leads the way with 17 pieces found.

   The piece depicts the heraldic, double-headed eagle that represents the Groningen coat of arms. A large G is at top with a shield dividing the date at the base of the design. The reverse is blank but for four pellets.
   This token is quite scarce, but the demand seemed to be low before it was associated with the excavations at Jamestown. It is an essential part of the JT collection, as 17 pieces have been discovered thus far (the latest one was dug this past summer just north of the church tower where the 1608 extension was located). Seventeen is quite a large number and has invited speculation: Why so many?
   The Groningen tokens have been scattered all over the fort in various pits, cellars, and trenches. Ten have been found in sealed contexts of the fort period (that is, prior to 1624), whereas the other seven were discovered in disturbed soil strata. Three dates have been represented: 1590, 1591, and 1593. Of note, only about a half-dozen Groningen tokens are listed among individual finds across England as listed in the PAS database: these tokens are dated 1590 or 1591 (I could have missed a listing or two since the PAS is not consistent in the way coins are indexed). Still, not many have been unearthed.
   The coin I was lucky enough to obtain also came from the ground in England. It was not listed in the PAS. Clearly, the PAS data underestimates the numbers.
   The JT Groningen tokens are part of larger group of tokens that have puzzled numismatists. A larger number of so-called Kings Touch tickets have been found (about 60), plus a smaller group of lead tokens (about 14). As such, many token were brought over during the fort period -- and many of these were found in early contexts with a TPQ of about 1610-11. Adding to this number is a massive group of Irish coppers (mostly pennies, a few half-pennies).
   A mystery for sure.
   For the Jamestown collector: the Groningen is a piece of this mystery. It seems to be an unlikely member of the American colonial series. Such a cool piece.

Old Sail: Is it a Fluyt ?

Here is an old ship that might be a Fluyt.
   In the late 17th century a new Dutch cargo ship was launched. It was a fully-rigged ship with three masts and square sails. The hull had a relatively flat bottom with broad beams, and a rounded stern (some say pear-shaped). The largest fluyts were about 300 tons and 80 feet long. They sailed well into the next century.
   These ships were economical to build and could be manned by a small crew, perhaps a dozen mariners. Consequently, they were not heavily armed. But some fluyts had guns, particularly as pirates quickly learned that the fluyts were easy targets.

Twelve-skilling from Danish West Indies.
Is this ship a fluyt?

Today we examine a 12-skilling piece from the Danish West Indies (DWI). It is small coin (just a bit larger than a dime at 3.2g) made of .500 silver. It was a cheap alternative to the Spanish real that was the same size but made of finer silver.
   Skillings circulated in islands of St. Thomas, St. John, and St. Croix (now the U.S. Virgin Islands). The Danes initially settled on St. Thomas in 1666, but established a fort there in 1671 when the DWI was first chartered.
   Many of these skillings have been dug along the east coast of North America, so the coin is considered part of the American colonial series. Consequently, they are popular among collectors (especially as the legend includes "Americansk"). Most specimens are quite used up, as they were popular back then too. Twelve-skilling pieces like this one were produced across four years: 1757, 1763, 1764, 1765. Other denominations minted about the same time (six and twenty-four skillings) show the ship too.

So is the ship on the coin actually a fluyt? It is hard to say. It is a fully rigged ship with broad beams. The stern shows a slight curvature that is suggestive of a fluyt, but it is a judgment call. If it is a fluyt, then this is one of the few coins to show a Danish one.
   Another alternative: The ship could be the Fridericus Quartus. This was a ship of the line with many guns. The ship on the coin shows gun ports -- big guns! A fluyt might have a few, but they would be more prominent on a first-rate ship. This is a mystery. If you can solve it, let me know.
   Of note, the Fridericus Quartus did serve as a cargo ship. I found a reference to it that described its cargo in 1761. It returned from St. Thomas with 711 barrels of raw sugar, 10 barrels of cotton, 8 barrels of rum, plus 11 casks and 23 sacks of coffee. This cargo accurately describes the products of the DWI. The closeness of the date to our featured coins makes this ship a contender.

In any case, I think every old sails collector needs one of these. They are available but hard to find with the topsails clear of the fog.

Warning: Coin "slabbing" kills the buzz & makes collectors dumber: Part 1.

Warning. Do not touch the slabs!
   Yes, those plastic holders will destroy you.
   I don't think you will die on the spot, but you risk losing the passion that drives your collecting. You risk losing your "flow."
   Slabs are a buzz-kill. They are just as bad as cigarettes. Worse.
   Not only do slabs separate the collector from the coin by siphoning energy away from the collecting experience, but they fail to keep their promise. I focus on this latter point first, as it appeals to our rational frontal lobes (that unfortunately are being given precedence over our deeper, more emotional brain structures that govern the best that collecting has to offer -- more on THAT later).

David Bowers recently sounded the alarm. Writing in Coin World (CW) several times this past February he lamented that grade inflation has become rampant: in fact, many AU-58 coins are now graded MS-60 and MS-61. What about the rub?
   More alarming (particularly for the necromancer who relishes a coin that circulated), many VG-8 coins are being upgraded to F-12 or VF-20 --  here, Bowers referred to Indian Head cents. He found slabbed coins in the F-12 to VF-20 range without all letters of LIBERTY showing. These letters define the lower bounds of the "fine" grades.

Here is the lowest grade St. Patrick "Farthing" known.
It is a dug coin full of intrigue.
Does it help to know that it is a Poor-0.5?

   Bill Eckberg (President of the Early American Coppers Club) went further, writing in the November 14th edition of CW; he pointed out that crack-out upgrading tends to foster a tendency for many (if not most) coins to end up over-graded. He described an instance when a 1916-D dime was resubmitted over twenty times before being upgraded from MS-64 to MS-65.
   Alarmed?
   Surprised?
   Don't be.
   This kind of unreliability in grading is bound to happen across multiple resubmissions. We all know that condition grading is a subjective judgment. Consequently, errors are made in both directions. But the crack-out submitters typically stop when the grade goes up.
   The remedy for collectors who are ready to buy is to look at the coin, not the label on the holder. Bowers and others have urged buyers to examine the details -- yes, count those letters: L-I-B-E-R-T-Y.
   But collectors are not doing this.
   First, they are apt to trust (or strongly want to trust) the holder when the grade is inflated and the price is "right." Why not? A higher grade means you have benefitted. Second, some collectors are incompetent graders. Furthermore, they are likely to get confused when they compare slabbed coins with the actual grading standards published by ANA. Third, some collectors do not take the time to examine the coin beyond a cursory glance. They are lazy; they are satisfied with the "number" on the label (see #1); or they have already moved on to the next coin.

Well, I believe that slabs are bad.
   They are bad for all their failed promises. They were touted as the "last word" -- a stout holder, labeled with an objective assessment, that was to last forever. But there is more: the psychological damage is worse! Aside from making collectors dumber, they rob collectors of the positive emotions that come with discovery; they rob collectors of curatorial skills; they foster anxiety about market forces; they foster guilt (and cognitive dissonance) that comes with gaming the system; and they undermine the flow that characterizes the process of examining and comparing coins.
   So sad.
   I submit that numerical grading is a minor element of collecting. A convenience that allows quick communication. Short-hand. Nothing more.
   Necromancers -- all true collectors really -- do not rely on condition grades to determine the "value" of a particular coin and its role in the collection.
   Only dumb collectors rely on condition grades.

Down the Rabbit Hole: Expo Coin Immersion and a Snickers Bar

My eyes need a rest, as I have just returned from the Baltimore Expo. I examined perhaps a hundred coins, all of them up-close through a tiny magnifier lens with a hot lamp at my cheek.

My feet need a rest too. I walked all day, up and down aisles of tables, navigating an urgent crowd, all of them hunting for that special coin.

I also gave a presentation on Jamestown, telling stories about bent, holed, and folded coins that were magical. I was “on” and the hour seemed like minutes.

All of this was great fun, but it left me hypoglycemic. I had to run out for a Snickers bar – actually a Snickers first, then a sub.

Yes, the Expo is quite the immersion experience.

Dumpster Diving at the Expo

It is the tenth planet. Actually, it is a thousand different tenth planets.

Each collector has their own orbit, a grand vision, unique to them. And of course, each of us is relentless in our pursuit of the next coin – a want list in every pocket.

One man collects a single type of jetton (in copper, silver, whatever he can find). Another seeks medals depicting George Washington (medals, tokens, all of it). I even met a guy who collects “bridges” on coins (he is an engineer by trade – if that helps). And so it goes.

I like coins similar to those found in the dirt at Jamestown. Plus, other dug items. Relics – yes, that is my orbit -- lots of dumpster diving.

Each one of us has slipped down the rabbit hole.

You do not realize this when you are on the convention floor. How could you: everyone has a magnifying glass; everyone is hunting for the next one.

But, when you exit the big room, go up the stairs towards the sunlight, and press hard against the heavy glass doors, then you see. Like a rush of gale wind in the face, you are confronted with a whole world of non-collectors, just as urgent – cars honking, sirens wailing, shoes scuffing on pavement.

They have no idea what is going on in the convention center.

And, they don’t care.

The contrast is jolting.

I contemplated all of this while eating a sub at Jimmy Johns: No one out here cares about Jamestown or Washington!

If they were coaxed – and it would take some coaxing – to investigate the big room, many of them would think we were mad. But of course, they would be polite about it and remark that collecting seems like a nice respite from the hustle of life. (My wife puts it this way: “It is your break.”)

The problem is that I am not sure if I am breaking when I go out into the sun, or if I am breaking when I am peering at a relic through the lens.

I suppose that I am lucky in this way: frequently hypoglycemic and running out for Snickers.