Sweet Corrosion on a Lowly Cent

Grounders have a certain charm all their own. Yet, they are generally shunned by most coin collectors.
     We all know the credo of numismatic correctness: Buy the best you can afford -- and its corollary: Avoid corrosion like the plague. But the plague -- in this case, the corrosion and its salty products -- is where it is happening.

An awful beauty that is captivating. Flying Eagle cents
were 88% copper but they were still called "nicks."
They were prone to corrosion, as the copper was reactive,
particularly when the alloy was poorly mixed.

     Even the large cent master, William Sheldon, swooned to the color of his old coppers. In Penny Whimsy, he wrote "... 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." He liked patina. Yet, I doubt that he was talking about cuprite and bronchantite deposits!
     These deposits are lovely -- and they add texture. They reflect a color palette that only mother nature could provide.
     Such colors strike us in the gut. They evoke an emotional response -- like a Rorschach card with red splatter: Blood! Our limbic system is triggered. We are excited. Yes, this flying eagle cent hits us deeply in the primitive part of our brain. You cannot turn away until you examine the patterns of corrosion: how the layered minerals hug the tail-feathers and collects between the lettering. Our fingertips are drawn to coins like this.
     Some collectors have learned to suppress all this nervous chatter. They suck-in their gut and tighten their facial muscles. They enlist the frontal lobes to remind them of the credo. Repeat after me: Corrosion is bad, bad, bad. 
     Too bad these collectors are missing out on the best relics (while increasing their risk for stomach ulcers) -- not to mention a collecting life full of mediocrity. I submit that this is what history looks like in the hand. Not new and shiny, not smooth, not evenly worn ... those coins have never been lost and looked for.
     Is this a marvelous coin, or what?
   

How Coins become Marvelous (Part 1)

The coins we choose to collect are Marvelous!
     So, how do they become that way? I think we need to start with a definition. Marvelous means astonishing on the one hand, and excellent on the other. As a verb, the phrase -- "to marvel" -- suggests that one feels surprised or wonderment.
     During the age of discovery (1500s-1600s), many well-to-do folks (e.g., princes, barons, and the like) had cabinets of curiosities prominently displayed in their homes. These cabinets were filled with all sorts of unusual objects such as fossils, feathers, relics, and so on. All of these items had one thing in common: they stimulated wonderment -- that is to say, they enticed their owners to draw near, with a sirens call, and reach out fingertips first. In short, they were marvelous. It comes as no surprise that these cabinets were called Wunderkammers (meaning "wonder room" in German).
     Nowadays, and particularly in numismatics, the phrase marvelous -- if used at all -- implies that the coin is excellent (the second meaning given above). And we all know what excellent means: it refers to condition grading.  MS-65! In fact, most of what is written in the numismatic press is associated with condition grading -- full details, unbroken luster, and a lot of ranting about over-graded coins selling at inflated prices. Indeed, the numismatic marketplace is an anxious arena of buying and selling and speculating, ugh!

To most, this is just a piece of money.
To many, this is a small hunk of silver to be melted.
But to a lucky few, this is a Washington quarter from an
era when intrinsic value was real & weekly allowances were
greatly anticipated (after mowing the lawn, of course).

     All of this, is far removed from the experience of wonderment that some collectors -- who are the fortunate ones -- feel when they take the time to enjoy a non-slabbed, collector coin, whose only claim to being marvelous is that you just can't stop musing about it. And yes, these collectors touch there coins, feeling the cool metal, picking at it as if trying to get inside the rims where the secrets of history reside. To do this, without a hint of self-reproach, is to discover true collecting: no markets, no competition, just collector and object: face to face.
     So, how do coins become so marvelous?
     Consider this as our starting point: Coins -- like all objects -- can either be used or possessed. Coins that are spent (that is, used) are known by their function: they are money. In this light, a quarter is no more than half a newspaper or a plastic toy from a gumball machine. Such quarters are dateless and without variety -- just money.
     But, at the very moment that we decide to collect a particular quarter, that is to say, remove it out of its functional role, and place it into our collection, then we are possessing it (not using it). We have transformed it into something symbolic. The possessed quarter is no longer pocket change; instead, it is a Washington quarter with a meaningful date and variety. We have elevated the coin to an outer-worldly status. In short, the collected coin has become Marvelous!
     The whole process is kinda magical isn't it? And think about the magician here: it is the lowly collector who decides -- not some expert or taste-maker.
    

Loving the Unloved: Hogge Money

It has been said that only the true collector can love the unloved.
     So often we find that coin collecting is tainted by fashion and investment concerns. The modern numismatist is more than just a student of history (oh, I wish more of them were); he (or she) is an expert at tracking market trends. For some folks, collecting is a competitive sport (sad, but true). This is not to say that supply and demand are not important -- they are. But sometimes, these issues take center stage, and hog the show.
     But the true collector hunts for objects that are alluring for no other reason except that the object is just so cool to look at, so engaging to contemplate, and/or so evocative that it strikes you at the core -- all other issues (of market value and investment potential) aside. One of my favorite authors on collecting -- Marilynn Karp (a Professor of Art, no less) put it this way in her introspective book, In Fragrante Collecto: "Of all the faces of collecting, this is the purest: collector and object, no intervening issues of value or competition, wholly unselfconscious choices."

Sommer Islands six-pence, small portholes variety sold by
Heritage Auctions in January 2015. Battered, road-worn,
and corroded coins do not get much better than this!
Image courtesy of Heritage Auctions.

     To find enjoyment in battered, road-worn, even corroded coin is the mark of a true collector. Perhaps also, it is the work of a kinky genotype that is at the root of all collecting -- just more juice in this case. And I must confess: I am consumed with it -- a tangle of neurons that makes me chase after the "awful beauty" (to quote Charles Dickens when he first described the ruins of Rome) of coins that have been used up and left for dead.
     Maybe it takes a rebel to collect outside the realm of the new and shiny -- a place where full-details (more feathers, more tiny heads, nicer bowtie) means everything. Rebel or not, I submit that folks that can find magic between the rims of a battered, road-worn, and corroded coin are of a particular bent that is no less astute or fervent than the self-proclaimed connoisseur who likes to flash his lustrous Morgan dollars.
     This is not to say that battered, road-worn, and corroded pieces are universally shunned. Or that they are subordinated by numismatists. In fact, certain rare pieces are known only in poor condition -- Sommer Islands shillings and pence and Granby coppers come to mind. So let's consider one of these as a way to desensitize those who shutter at the prospect of touching -- much less buying -- a true collector's coin.
     Just yesterday, Heritage Auctions sold three (not one, not two, but three) Sommer Islands coins: a 12p and two 6p. The six-pence piece I picture here was the best of the lot, selling for a whopping $58,750 with ten bidders competing for the privilege to hold it in their hands. The cataloger described it as an "exceptional example" with "areas of corrosion and moderate green oxidation." It was graded NGC XF45. I wanted to sell off my retirement for it, but I was outvoted two to one (wife and dog). 
     What awful beauty we have here. This grounder is patchy with deep russet fields showing through a granular charcoal and black debris that is caked amongst the lettering and at the hog's legs. It is an engaging canvas that challenges you to study every detail. A dusting of white from the original silver wash adds intrigue. The hog is bold, ears perked, eye dilated and staring right at you from all angles, with a snarling mouth, lips puffed to show a fang. Not a friendly coin at all. The reverse is bold with the ship fully visible through the charcoal haze of granular corrosion and white accents. Emerald pockets of sulfide corrosion interspersed with coppery patches uncovered by the gray debris add complexity. Only mother nature can paint such beauty.
     Here is the first coin (or token, as some argue) of British North America. It was produced in 1615 or 1616 (probably in London) and used exclusively in Bermuda from 1616-18. The composition is roughly three-quarters copper -- the rest, tin, with a silver wash found on some pieces. Hogge money (as it is sometimes called) was thought to be paid out for Sommer Islands Company work; the coins were traded for goods at the Company storehouse, then re-circulated. Records suggest that the storehouse was closed by 1619, as outside trade had become too competitive. About 50 six-pence pieces are known -- this is the most common denomination, followed by the shilling, then the very rare 3p and 2p pieces.
     Now the questions. Would you like this coin in your collection? Well, of course you would -- it is rare, rare, rare. But, what if it was just old, and not so rare, what then?

Inspiration

Several years ago I discovered a quote that irrevocably shaped my collecting. The words reflected a sentiment that I always felt but could not articulate.
     I have always been a collector. I was born with a kink in my frontal lobes that set me off hunting for old objects. Collecting is in my blood, my DNA -- every cell. I am obsessed with relics of the past. But there was something deeper rumbling inside of me.
     I was mystified until I found this quote. The following quote was written by an "Observer" in the American Journal of Numismatics (1867):

Every coin or medal of historic interest is a potent talisman to evoke the past and people in it with resuscitated life, to secure the present against oblivion, and give earthly immortality to its heroes. The owner of a numismatic cabinet is a necromancer and a ruler of the spirits, and can fill his lonely chamber with the shapes of the departed and majestic phantasms.

     I am found. I believe that relics are animated with the spirits of everyone who touched them. I am a necromancer. My challenge is to tell the story.

Old Matron Head Cent in VG8 -- plus a bit of damage.
Well, maybe a lot of damage. This cent could have been used
as a wheel on a child toy or on a dolly to roll heavy boxes.

     I do not care about the marketplace. And, the spot price of silver? Who cares! Slabs annoy me. If I spend money on a coin or token, it is because I want to put my fingertips to it, feel the pulse, imagine its history, be awed. When you really think about it, we transform objects into something special when we collect them. We elevate them to some outer-worldly status. This process is magical.
     As for me, I hunt for magic in places where you least expect it. I look for ordinary objects that were touched, used, and/or loved by folks who are long gone. Wear and corrosion, even damage, tells a story. I connect with those who have turned to dust by possessing these fragments of their past.
     Common things like bottle caps and rusty toys speak to me. But, old coins and tokens shout out the loudest. After all, nickels and dimes are imbued with yesterday's dreams. I believe that this magic still resides within the rims of each penny spent. Any coin with a good story is a keeper: cents, tokens, colonial coppers, bits of hammer silver.