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coinsandmedals

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Journal Entries posted by coinsandmedals

  1. coinsandmedals

    My 2021 numismatic journey
    I enjoy a good book just as much as anyone else, but my wife is nothing short of a bookworm. Her happy place is resting in her “egg-chair” with a good book and a warm cup of coffee, while our oversized cocker spaniel spreads out on her lap. Recently she started a “bookstagram” where she shares her thoughts about recent reads and takes book suggestions from followers. She seems to enjoy interacting with fellow bookworms, teachers, and at times authors. As any husband should, I provided support, encouragement, and my opinion when solicited, but otherwise, I just let her enjoy her newfound outlet to share her passion.
    I didn’t give it much more thought until I stumbled upon a stack of business cards while doing some much-needed organization in my home office about a month or so ago. Within that stack was a card from a younger world coin dealer I met at the Memphis show a few years back. I remember our conversation so vividly because he mentioned that beyond the Memphis show, his entire business was conducted on Instagram. At the time, I was shocked because I didn’t think social media platforms would be instrumental given the general population that they are catered to, but geesh was I wrong. I took a glance, and I soon realized that there are some genuinely top-notch sellers actively buying and selling on several social media platforms.
    I mentioned this to my wife, who, half-joking suggested I create an Instagram account for my coin collection. I am not active enough on this forum for most of you to have a feel for who I am as a person, but let me assure you, her suggestion was rather comical. Even before the pandemic, I never had an interest in social media platforms, primarily because I much prefer spending time with friends in person over what is often superficial virtual interactions. It was not until my junior of college that I even created a Facebook account, and I only did so to keep in touch with the friends I made overseas while studying abroad. I have the app on my phone, but I wouldn’t even begin to guess my password after many years of inactivity. As wives tend to do, she teased me, suggesting my “coinstagram” might muster a few dozen followers, and I tended to agree with her. After all, coin collecting seems like such an odd hobby to many people, and coin collectors are indeed a unique breed.
    In good fun, I took her up on her challenge and created an Instagram page for my collection, and I am having a blast! Who would have thought that I, of all people, would enjoy social media? Most of my friends are shocked, and my wife thinks the whole endeavor is rather comical. I have been posting a coin from my collection with a brief, often historical write-up almost every day, and the community seems to be very supportive. To make things even better, I get to check out some truly amazing coins that others share from their collections. It’s almost like the “post your newest additions” thread but much more active. I see at least a dozen coins a day that I never even knew existed, and I find myself more tempted than ever to expand my collecting interests. In that regard, I suppose Instagram may be a bit of a bad influence.
    In part, I decided to share my experience here because of Jeff Garrett’s article discussing the potential impact social media and internet groups could have on our hobby. It is interesting to see so many coin dealers moving to online platforms in the wake of the pandemic. I had always assumed this would take the form of dedicated websites, but I never pondered the potential role of social media platforms until recently. Amid the pandemic with most shows being canceled, I would hazard to guess that the role of these platforms is likely to expand. As discussed by Garrett, the business component is interesting, but I can’t help but wonder if this increased push into social media platforms will expand exposure to potential new collectors. Perhaps this may even bring in more young collectors who are the primary consumers of social media. Of course, the flip side of that issue is that it could turn into another platform for misinformation, such as the “get rich quick” videos all over YouTube. What are your thoughts? Do you think social media platforms will have an impact on the hobby? If so, do you think it will be mostly positive or negative?
  2. coinsandmedals

    My 2022 Numismatic Journey
    Before sharing the results of my NGC submission, I want to thank those who reached out to me during my hiatus. It meant a lot to me that so many not only noticed that I was absent but took the time to check in on me. As some of you know, our lives were temporarily derailed due to a sudden passing of a beloved family member. From there, life got super busy, and with everything going on, coins were the last thing on my mind. A few big things have happened since my journal entry in December: I finished my Ph.D., accepted a full-time faculty position at an R1 University, we inherited a house allowing us to move closer to family, and my wife landed a new job (with a five-figure pay raise!). Despite all of that, the best news is that our family will grow by one in December!!! Although it is perhaps a bit early, I have already started brainstorming ideas to get the kiddo involved in numismatics down the road. Please let me know if you have any suggestions.
    I hope to be more active here now that life is slowly returning to normal. On any note, I have a major NGC submission update to share. The last of the submissions shipped out last week, meaning I finally got to see how they graded. I have already shared a few of these, but to keep things simple, I included them here to compliment the original journal entry (link to original thread).

    1799 Great Britain proof Farthing with shells – Ex. Matthew Boulton
    NGC grade: PF-63 BN 

    “1791” France Jean Jacques Rousseau Medal – Ex. Matthew Boulton
    NGC grade: MS-64 BN

    1800(11) Westminster Fire Office Medal with shells and wrapper – Ex. James Watt Jr. Collection
    NGC grade: MS-66 BN

    1805 Ireland proof Penny with shells
    NGC grade: PF-64 RB

    1793 Board of Agriculture Medal with shells and wrapper – Ex. James Watt Jr. Collection
    NGC grade: MS-67 BN

    1800 George III Preserved from Assassination Medal with shells
    NGC grade: MS-66 BN

    1803 Boydell's National Edition of Shakespeare's Works with shells
    NGC grade: MS-62

    1793 Death of Gustavus III medal with shells
    NGC grade: MS-66 BN

    1793 Execution of Louis XVI of France – Final farewell medal with shells
    NGC grade: MS-66 BN
    This submission included several other items, but I either do not have an image of them, or it was just a reholder. Overall, I am pleased with the grades. Most of these are top pops, many three or more grade points higher than their counterparts. The only thing left to do now is patiently wait for USPS to deliver them! 
  3. coinsandmedals

    My 2021 numismatic journey
    When typing out the write-ups for the Soho medals, I always do my best to include images of supporting items I own; however, that is not always possible. For instance, when writing up the Boydell Shakespeare medal (you can read about it here), I used the frontispiece to Boydell's 1797 edition of Shakespeare's Works, but this was an open-source image from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Despite searching for a genuine period example for my collection of antique paper, I could not locate an example already separated from its binding, so I decided to discontinue the search. I saved the search on my computer, and during one of my insomnia-driven buying sprees, I just happened to come across an example. By some miracle, I won it for the opening bid! I plan to have it professionally framed, but it will make an excellent example to pair with my wife's growing collection of antique Shakespeare books and fully complements the medal bearing the same design in my collection. Sorry about the fuzzy pictures. I didn't have the time to break out my good camera, so I used my phone.

    This month has been extraordinary for my numismatic ephemera collection as I finally tracked period copies of a document that I have been trying to find for nearly the last five years! I plan to do a separate write-up on those acquisitions very soon.
    So, are there any other oddballs like me that also collect stuff somewhat related to your numismatic pursuits?
  4. coinsandmedals

    My 2021 numismatic journey
    With submission turnaround times increasing by the day, it is often easy to focus on the bad while taking the good for granted. That said, I would like to share a recent positive experience with NGC customer service. I submitted a proof 1775 Irish Halfpenny in February of last year, but I did not find the time to inspect the coins until early last month. I know it is ridiculous that it took me that long to enjoy my coins, but I have very little time to kill. Now that things are starting to slow down with the end of the semester approaching, I have a few minutes to spare! On any note, the coin came back XF DETAILS as expected (edge damage); however, the original label omitted an important word (i.e., PROOF). Although it can often be complicated to distinguish between circulated proofs and business strike examples, this is an easy attribution to make in this case. As I explained in my email to NGC, the coin in question was struck on a thick flan with medal orientation (i.e., the essential characteristics only found on a specific proof variety). I also pointed out that the coin is perfectly round and that the denticles are contained within the rims. For those unfamiliar with this series, these are hallmarks that the coin was struck in a collar. According to Dyer and Gaspar (1980), striking coins in a collar was a practice used almost exclusively for proof strikes. It is likely safe to assume that this information is common knowledge for the world coin graders, so it seemed reasonable to conclude that the partially inaccurate label was nothing more than a clerical error. I wrote all this out in an email sent well after business hours.
    I received NGC’s initial response early the next morning requesting images of the obverse, reverse, and label. I obliged, and within a couple of hours, I received an email from NGC with a prepaid UPS next day shipping label. I dropped the coin in the mail later that day, and it arrived at NGC the following morning. From here, things moved quickly. NGC logged it into the system on October 13th, and I had it back in hand by the 29th. Not only did NGC place the coin in a fresh holder and correct the label to include the proof designation, but they also added the extra information to denote it as the variety struck on a thick flan and in medal alignment. They corrected the error free of charge, which I assume cost more than the initial grading charges.
    This is not the first time that NGC went out their way to help a small-time collector such as myself, and I think that speaks volumes about NGC's character.
    So what positive NGC customer service experiences do you have to share?  
  5. coinsandmedals

    My 2021 numismatic journey
    As some of you may know, I am a Ph.D. student. Graduate school often entails a mind-numbing amount of work on very short deadlines, which continue to escalate as you get closer to finishing your degree. Earlier this month, I defended my dissertation prospectus without changing my experimental design, which gave me the green light to start data collection. After finishing all the paperwork, I started collecting data the same day. So far, it is going way faster than I anticipated, and I am already well over halfway done. Of course, this is only part of the fun, as I still have plenty of work to do before I can defend my dissertation and earn my doctorate.
    With my dissertation in full swing, I started seriously pursuing the job market, which has consumed what I consider an unhealthy amount of my time. For those of you unfamiliar, finding a job in academia requires what seems like an endless stream of documents. All of which need to be carefully tailored to each job as the requirements can vary wildly. With that in mind, I have spent countless hours writing cover letters, research statements, teaching philosophy statements, diversity statements, and tweaking my CV to highlight the skills the position requires. 
    On top of those efforts, I also teach over 230 students across two upper-level courses at my university. It takes far more tie and energy than you would think to lecture, respond to student emails, and grade assignments. Luckily, I have two graduate teaching assistants who help with the grading, but it is still a lot to manage. I am also organizing a research conference for my department and actively serving on several committees while working on a handful of publications and managing a small team of undergraduate research assistants.
    Typing it all out makes me wonder how I find time for it all, but I suppose when you have no other choice, you figure it out. It is a lot of work, but I am thankful for where I am in life and even more so for my amazing wife. Throughout all of this, she has been extremely supportive. My home life is the only escape that I have from the craziness of grad school. I made a deal with her and myself that if I finished enough work, I would take the entire week off during the break, and now I am enjoying the rewards of that labor. That said, please forgive my recent posting spree, as I am simply taking full advantage of the opportunity!
    It seems weird not to post one, so please enjoy the pictures of my pets lounging out. They are my relaxation inspirations.

    I hope everyone has a safe and restful holiday season!
  6. coinsandmedals

    My 2021 numismatic journey
    Recap: I submitted a very complex order to NGC that spanned several invoices and numerous special requests. You can read about it here. Due to a clerical error, I received the grades back on one of the submissions early, which I detail here.
    Almost immediately after posting my last journal, I checked my email to find another shipment notification from NGC. I was somewhat confused as I thought I got this worked out when I talked with NGC yesterday, but I assume that these were already in the queue by the time I placed my call, and they didn’t have time to fix the error. I called earlier today and I think the issue will be resolved for the other four invoices before they are finalized. At one point, the status of the last invoice was safe/complete. Has anyone seen that before?
    On any note, I got an early view of the assigned grades for three coins!
    1.      
    Description: 1799 Great Britain Farthing – Ex. Boulton
    My grade: PF-64 BN
    NGC grade: PF-63 BN  
    Comment: This is one of the best-preserved examples of the variety that I have come across, so I am surprised to see that it graded so low. I tend to be a bit conservative when I grade these pieces, so I really would not have been shocked to see this come back in a 65 holder. I plan to give this coin a thorough examination to try to find what I missed. Either way, I am thrilled to have this in a multi-coin holder alongside its shells. I will post pictures of the slab once I get it back in hand.
    2.      
    Description: “1791” France Jean Jacques Rousseau Medal – Ex. Boulton
    My grade: MS-64 BN
    NGC grade: MS-64 BN 
    Comment: I am happy with how this medal graded, and it will look great alongside its counterpart in my collection (this will be the subject of a future journal). These medals are not particularly rare, but it is nice to have one with the original shells and provenance to the Boulton family. This medal is also housed in a multi-coin holder alongside its shells. I will post pictures of the slab once I get it back in hand.
    3.      
    Description: 1805 Ireland Penny
    My grade: PF-63+ RB
    NGC grade: PF-64 RB 
    Comment: I went back and forth between a 63 and a 64 for this coin, but I figured the small mark on the reverse would preclude a higher grade. I wish this coin would have warranted the cameo or star designation, but those are very uncommon for coins of this series. On any note, I am relieved that NGC was able to make the multi-coin holder work for a coin this size. Once I get this coin back in hand, I will post pictures of the full slab.
  7. coinsandmedals

    My 2021 numismatic journey
    Looking over the NGC registry awards this year, I realized that I had overlooked a valuable platform to share my numismatic journey, the journals. This year I intend to change that by sharing my collecting journey throughout the year. Each month I will do my best to share either a new addition to the collection, grading results from NGC, or any tidbits of numismatic knowledge I acquire. 
    With that said, this is my first journal entry since 2013! In this installment, I would like to share the newest addition to my collection. An 1806 Irish Farthing graded MS-66 BN by NGC. This is the highest graded example at NGC (tied with two others) or PCGS (2 in this grade). I have a soft spot for Irish copper coinage, but it can be challenging to track down nicely preserved specimens. Well circulated examples are abundant, and at times you can find uncirculated pieces for sale, but they are often marred by environmental damage. The holder is pretty scuffed, so I will need to send it in for a reholder. In part, this is what I plan to spend the $500 grading credit that accompanied the registry award I won this year. I am still in awe of NGC's generosity. 

    This particular example is a marked upgrade to my PCGS MS-64 example.  My newest addition is nothing short of stunning. If the dripping luster is not enough to entice your fancy, perhaps the wholly original neon blue toning will do the trick. I have an affinity for naturally blue-toned copper coinage. Of course, one must avoid chemically altered coins (e.g., MS-70) while on the hunt. Like most numismatic skills, this takes some time and a lot of practice. Luckily this example shows a natural toning progression one would expect to see on an original piece. 
    The fact that this example is nicely toned, Irish, struck at the Soho Mint, and nearly pristine makes it a grand slam for me. It has earned a coveted spot in my “top shelf” box alongside other nicely blue-hued copper pieces such as the coin pictured below. 

    Out of curiosity, are there any other Irish coin collectors lurking on these boards? Or perhaps a fellow Soho Mint enthusiast? If you are neither, please consider sharing some of your numismatic “weaknesses”. What makes your wallet suddenly become a little thinner? 
  8. coinsandmedals

    My 2021 numismatic journey
    I have found over the years that coin collectors often collect other things. Some pursue items unrelated to their numismatic interests, while others pursue tangentially related items. In my case, my side collections fall more in line with the latter rather than the former. Often this takes shape in the form of numismatic references published in the mid to late 18th century, with the occasional spattering dating back to the 17th century. These books often make for nice shelf decoration with their weathered leather spines in addition to being full of contemporary knowledge and interesting engravings. Lately, this area of collecting has expanded to include other ephemera such as contemporary newspapers, which brings me to the current journal topic.
    Before I became entirely enamored with the Soho Mint, I spent a good deal of time building a collection of earlier English copper that I used to tell the story of the small change shortage that plagued England for centuries. This custom set entitled "Social elitism: As told by the history of English copper 1694-1807" won the most creative custom set award in 2019. I only mention this because that set tells the larger scope of the story that I plan to introduce here. Before showing off my new find, let me first set the context.
    England had witnessed a shortage of small change since the 1300s. Across several centuries "attempts" were made to fix the issue, but it was never fully resolved. In part, this was due to the reliance on silver, which necessitated increasingly smaller coins for the lower denominations as the price of raw material continued to rise. Although the idea to use copper in place of silver for the lower denomination coins had been considered as early as Elizabeth I's reign, it wouldn't be until 1672 under Charles II that we would see the first regal copper coin for England. Eventually, counterfeiters realized that a healthy profit could be made by melting down regal coppers and producing their own lightweight "coinage" from the raw material. This became an expansive issue in England that was only made worse with the introduction of tin coinage. Counterfeiting would continue almost unchecked throughout the reigns of William and Mary, William III, and George I. Lackluster distribution of regal copper by George II’s predecessors left the outskirts of England with an almost non-existent supply of copper, while large cities such as London were under siege by lightweight counterfeits made from the melted regal coppers that never circulated out the city.
    In short, the state of small change in England was a mess, and the initial response was to produce new regal copper to drive out the counterfeits. Production was authorized on July 21st, 1729, and signed into law by Queen Caroline in the King's absence. In theory, this approach might have worked, but as before, the output of regal copper was insufficient to meet the public's needs. Instead of fixing the problem, the new regal coinage made it worse. As in prior years, the process was simple. Counterfeiters would melt down regal coppers and use the raw material to cast lightweight forgeries. The difference in the weight would yield a handsome profit to the counterfeiter. Eventually, the scheme escalated, and regal copper was melted down, the metal diluted to a less pure state, and the forgeries were created from the less pure metal. This allowed a twofold profit for the counterfeiter because the less pure copper mixture allowed them to produce more underweight forgeries. This newfound profit instigated an explosion in counterfeiting activity.
    In response to the growing issue, George II issued "An Act for the more effectual preventing the counterfeiting of the current Coin of This Kingdom, and the uttering or paying of false or counterfeit Coin" on September 29th, 1742. The majority of the act concerns silver and gold coinage, but my primary interest is the new provisions related to the copper coinage. I have done my best to include scans of the original document when convenient. At times the area of interest is split between pages and it would be troublesome to properly format the pictures in a pleasing way for the reader. The excerpt below is a great example of this type of occurrence, and as such, I have resorted to simply quoting the text here. 
    Here is one of the more interesting parts, as it relates to copper and silver coinage:
    "shall file, or any ways alter, wash, or color any of the brass monies called Halfpennies or Farthings, or add to or alter the impression, or any part of the impression of either side of an Halfpenny or Farthing, with intent to make an Halfpenny resemble or look like, or pass for a lawful Shilling, or with the Intent to make a Farthing resemble or look like, or pass for a lawful Sixpence"
    From this excerpt, it appears that a clear threat against the silver coinage existed in that copper coinage was altered to pass as either a Shilling or a Sixpence. This presents a new facet of the counterfeiting operation as it pertains to the copper coinage that I was unaware of and further highlights the prevalence of the issue. This point is further highlighted in the section discussing the uttering of false or counterfeit money.


    "And whereas the uttering of false money, knowing it to be false, is a Crime frequently committed all over the Kingdom, and the offenders therein are not deterred by reason that is only a misdemeanor, and the punishment often but small, although there be great reason to believe, the common utters of such false money are either themselves the coiners, or in confederacy with the coiners thereof"
    It is very interesting to note the writers openly suggest that those who commonly utter counterfeit money are also likely at best in cahoots with the counterfeiters. This further suggests that the crime had developed into a multifaceted operation, a notable maturation from prior counterfeiting operations. The document discusses the appropriate punishments for both offenses (i.e., counterfeiting/altering, or uttering counterfeit money). Given the focus is on silver and not copper coinage, I have not detailed it here.
    Before moving on, it is also noteworthy that the first provided excerpt of the document refers to the halfpennies and farthings as "brass" instead of copper. This error is later corrected in the document. It is not until the 6th paragraph that copper coinage provisions are revisited, and it is short-lived. Here is the whole excerpt:
    "And whereas the coining or counterfeiting any of the copper money of this kingdom is only a misdemeanor, and the punishment often very small; be it hereby further enacted by the authority aforesaid, that if any person whatsoever, shall, after the said twenty ninth day of September, make, coin, or counterfeit any brass or copper money, commonly called a Halfpeny, or a Farthing, such person offending therein, and his, her, and their aiders, abettors, and procurers being thereof convicted, shall suffer two years imprisonment, and find sureties for his or her good behavior for two years more, to be computed from the end of the said first two years."
     
    From this, it is clear that the counterfeiting of copper coinage remains a misdemeanor, but unlike before, the punishments are much more severe. The new law provisioned a two-year prison sentence to those found guilty of counterfeiting copper coinage and further escalated the punishment by requiring the convicted to secure sureties for their crime-free behavior for two years after release. This last part is notable because the convicted were required to find someone willing to financially vouch for their good behavior. If the convicted were to violate the surety terms, the backer would lose whatever surety was required. In other words, it would be very quick to burn bridges with allies if found guilty, released, and subsequently convicted again. Of course, this provision is minimal in comparison to the next.
    The remaining portion of the document details a marked increase in the reward provided to those who apprehend offenders of any of the offenses mentioned above. For offenses related to silver or gold coinage, the reward was £40 per conviction, whereas they were only entitled to £10 for convictions related to copper coinage. To my knowledge, this is the most aggressive approach to counter the falsification of copper coinage taken by any monarch at the time. To make matters more interesting, the act further provisioned pardons under certain circumstances.
    "And be it hereby further enacted, by the authority aforesaid, that whoever being out of prison, shall, after the said twenty ninth day of September, commit any of the offenses aforesaid and shall afterwards discover two or more persons, who shall, after the time aforesaid, have committed any of the said offenses, so as such two or more persons shall be thereof convicted, such discoverer shall have, and is hereby intitled to His Majesty's most gracious pardon for such his or her offenses."
    In other words, if a previously convicted individual were to provide information that directly resulted in the conviction of at least two others, their charges would be dropped, and a royal pardon would be issued. This pardon would allow the convicted turned informant to avoid the surety provision and wipe their slate clean, which would be vital to avoiding harsher punishments for subsequent convictions. As you can imagine, the language used opened many legal loopholes that were fully taken advantage of.
    Although the new law made the punishments more severe, it seems as though the impact was not as significant as intended. Peck (1964) notes that the law was not written concerning pieces that had noticeable differences to the regal issues. For instance, if the forgery had numerous spelling errors or slight alterations of the bust and did not have a nearly exact similarity to the regal issue, the prosecution was made much harder and often resulted in a minimal punishment. This is why so many non-regal pieces have slightly different legends and design details compared to the regal issues. This idea took off, and by 1751, counterfeiters were advancing to the use of hand presses to produce their forgeries. This allowed them to produce more pieces at a faster rate yielding even more profit. This quickly became a more sophisticated operation with one location melting the regal issues, one location diluting the copper, another producing the blanks, and yet another striking the forgeries. A final agent would be involved in distributing the counterfeits to the market. This fragmented process made apprehending the criminals very difficult. This is also when we see an expansion in invasion type coinage, specifically to the colonies, as the same counterfeiting laws did not protect them.
    This new document is tangible proof of the widespread issue and only adds to my enjoyment of the history surrounding England's copper coinage. Although it predates my main focus, the Soho Mint, it helps set the historical context that resulted in its success. Without the crown's dramatic failure to issue sufficient copper coinage, the failure of parliament to protect it against counterfeiting, and the court's failure to fully prosecute the guilty parties, the history of the Soho Mint might have been very different. 
    So what are some of the other things that you collect? Are they related to your numismatic pursuits? What got you interested in your “side collection”?
  9. coinsandmedals

    My 2021 numismatic journey
    When I first started collecting coins, I purchased whatever caught my attention with little to no discipline. As I matured, I found myself focused on EAC and early U.S. type coins. Eventually, I abandoned those areas of focus and shifted my attention to world coins. More specifically, almost all of my collecting efforts are focused on English and Irish copper, emphasizing the Soho coinage.
    Perhaps it is this intense focus that makes my newest purchase so odd. It is not copper, it not English or Irish, and it predates the bulk of my collection by multiple centuries. Given that this coin is so far removed from my ordinary pursuits, I would have been lost without the detailed description inscribed on the envelope by the previous owner, Eric Newman. The envelope is marked Arab Sasasnian Abbasid Silver ½ Dirham. The description continues identifying the piece as struck at Tabaristan Mint (Muqatil). Newman graded this piece as XF, and he noted that it was acquired from the Morris Collection. I find this coin interesting, and I look forward to doing a little more research as time permits, but this is not the only reason I purchased it.
    As it relates to my area of focus, the world coin market is very hot right now. The higher prices have made it difficult for me to add new examples to my collection while maintaining the general quality I have come to expect. As an alternative, I have been purchasing relatively inexpensive eye appealing coins to hone my photography skills. I have a fair amount of experience with copper, but silver is a metal that I rarely work with when photographing coins. The fact that this coin was silver, toned, and not perfectly round made it an ideal candidate to test my skills. Overall, I think the images do a decent job capturing the color and character of the coin, but I found the editing portion to be cumbersome as I had to test out entirely new techniques to account for the jagged edges and irregular shape. I am happy with how the images turned out, and I look forward to applying the lessons learned from this experience to a much more complicated project already in the queue.

    Arab Sasasnian Abbasid, AR ½ Dirham, AH 174 (AD 790-791)
    Issue: Muqatil – Governor of Tabaristan
    Mint: Tabaristan
    Size/Weight: 23.20mm, 1.80g
    Provenance: Eric Newman Collection, Morris Collection
  10. coinsandmedals

    My 2021 numismatic journey
    The world coin market seems to be on fire so far in 2021! Even the relatively common certified pieces that I collect are fetching 3-4 times what similar pieces brought just a year ago. I may be spoiled, but it seems ridiculous to pay such a steep price hike for relatively common coins, and as such, I have been making fewer purchases. This is not all bad, as it has allowed me to focus my attention on acquiring high-quality or unique pieces that would have otherwise been more financially difficult to obtain. However, I shouldn't complain too much, as the recent hike in prices has also played to my advantage. I am now able to sell/trade my duplicates to fund more expensive endeavors. I have mixed albeit selfishly derived feelings about the recent uptick in the world coin market.
    On any note, I do have a new addition to share with you all. I know many collectors are not particularly interested in the coin's provenance, but in this case, I assume most collectors would make an exception. As well as the others pictured, this piece was struck at the Soho Mint (click here for more information about the Soho Mint). Although Matthew Boulton was the sole owner of the Soho Mint until he died in 1809, the mint utilized the steam engines of James Watt (Boulton's close business partner) to strike coins, tokens, and medals. Upon Boulton's death, the mint fell under the direction of his son Matthew Robinson Boulton and his partner James Watt Jr. (the son of James Watt). From contemporary documents, we know that James Watt Jr. was an active coin collector, and the Soho pieces were often some of his more prized possessions.
    My newest addition is an 1803 Madras Presidency 10 Cash piece from the James Watt Jr. collection. This particular piece has retained the original silver-lined brass shells and the inner and outer wrapper. The latter is labeled "Madras". Although not entirely definitive, it is thought that Watt Jr. penned the descriptions on the wrappers. James Watt Jr's coin collection was carefully curated in a carved oak box by his ancestors for nearly 200 years before it came to public auction in 2002. This coin was in a lot with five others, two of which are pictured here, which sold for a measly £440 nearly 20 years ago. Unfortunately, both holders look as though they were used as NHL regulation hockey pucks, which made photographing them very difficult, but they are both true gems. That said, you will have to use your imagination to see the coin without all of the scuffs on the plastic.

    Perhaps for my next journal, I will provide a brief write-up on the Madras coinage and the role of the Soho Mint. Admittedly I spent very little time discussing this within my custom registry set, and it is an area that is deserving of a deeper dive.
    Have you noticed any upticks in selling prices within your collecting area over the last year or so? If so, is it limited to the higher-end material, or has it also impacted the relatively common material? Has this impacted your collecting habits? Do you think prices will continue to rise or once again become stagnant? What do you think is driving these increases?
  11. coinsandmedals

    My 2021 numismatic journey
    The last few weeks have been very busy. Perhaps this is why I was so surprised to find a package from NGC in my mailbox today. I was so excited that I did not make it to the front door before I had the package ripped open and the coin in hand. Usually, I make an effort not to open coin-related mail outside, but my excitement got the best of me.
    On any note, I received an 1881 S Morgan Dollar graded MS-64 with the notation of “2020 NGC Registry Award Winner” on the label. This is the only silver dollar I have in my collection, but I plan to display it along with the plaque. The cert verification images do this coin no justice, so I took a few very quick pictures. Photographing silver dollars is entirely new to me, so this proved an interesting experience. As I noted in one of my previous journal entries, I have been slowly gathering lower-value coins to hone my photography skills, so photographing this coin was a real treat for me. I am not entirely happy with how the pictures turned out, so I plan to retry once I have more time.

    In 2019 I won the most creative custom set award, and that plaque has been proudly displayed on top of the bookcase behind my desk since it arrived. I plan to take a trip to Walmart tonight to find a stand for the 2020 award so that they can be displayed together. I can’t help but wonder how my wife will react when I add it alongside the other. She is very supportive, but she still likes to tease me about my “mega nerd” hobby now and again.

    I had the pleasure of speaking with one of the higher-ups at NGC the other day to request a special favor, and it reconfirmed everything I knew about NGC. I am a small-time collector, yet this gentleman took the time to discuss my request and encouraged me to send my items his way. It never ceases to amaze me how dedicated NGC is to the hobby and how willing they are to go the extra mile to help collectors. I have already figured out how to spend the $500 grading credit generously provided by our hosts to further my collecting goals, which I hope to detail in a future journal.
    I want to thank NGC and the staff for their consideration, and I look forward to competing again this year!
    Once again, congratulations to all of the winners!
  12. coinsandmedals

    My 2021 numismatic journey
    I learned several weeks ago that my friend, Bill McKivor, passed away. I have missed him sorely, but I refrained from posting about it until his family released an obituary (you can find that here). Many of you who knew him have likely already heard, but I wanted to post it here for those who have not.
    Bill and I did not meet until May of last year, but in the relatively short amount of time that I knew him, he quickly became one of my favorite people. Bill was an unusually kind and generous person who exemplified the type of comradery which often brings new people to this hobby. While talking with another gentleman who was well acquainted with Bill, he described Bill’s ability to carry on a conversation as legendary. This description seems more than appropriate to me. Bill and I initially emailed one another, but eventually, our messages got too long, and with the issues Bill often experienced with his outlook program, we decided to continue our conversations on the phone. We spent hours talking, and on more than one occasion, we had to end our conversation early because our phone batteries couldn’t keep up! I made a point to plug my phone up before our calls, but it never seemed to last long enough.

    In line with every other aspect, Bill was exceedingly generous with the information he had. I learned so much about the Soho Mint, Matthew Boulton, antique cars, tokens, and medals in such a short time. It never ceased to amaze me how much Bill knew about seemingly obscure topics, such as the silver-lined brass shells produced at the Soho Mint. I spent months researching the topic on the internet with little luck, but within 30 minutes, Bill had provided me with enough contextual information to provide a solid foundation for a short article. I hope to resubmit that article for publication soon, which I plan to dedicate in his honor. While discussing the silver-lined brass shells, Bill shared his passion for the medals produced at the Soho Mint, and this is the slippery slope that eventually led to my wallet becoming a bit thinner. He talked about the historical context of the pieces, the vast array of the art depicted on them, and the numerous nuances of collecting them.
    I eventually found myself pursuing several medals at an auction, and after winning, I quickly realized just how woefully underprepared I was for their arrival. These things were huge and of such high relief in comparison to the coinage. It did not take long for me to realize I was well out of my league insofar as storage was concerned. I called Bill for advice, and he provided some very helpful suggestions. About a week later, I received an unsolicited package from him with cloth holders to help store the larger medals that would not fit my extra-large flips. I offered to pay for them, but Bill refused. In another instance, he sent me a copy of The MCA Advisory (Vol 20, No. 3, May-June, 2017), which detailed his collection of Soho Medals to aid my research. Again, I offered to pay him for it, but he said helping was payment enough. He wanted no further conversation on the topic. That was just the type of guy he was. If he could help, he would, and he did so without an expectation of anything in return.

    Beyond Bill’s willingness, if not insistence upon being helpful, he was a thoughtful and genuine person. This was abundantly clear when we talked about politics, religion, marriage, travel, or just about every other topic that one can think of. He had so many extraordinary stories to share that always seemed to highlight the importance of some life lesson. He always encouraged me to grasp opportunities when they present themselves, and in part, this is what motivated me to start collecting medals. He piqued my interest by sharing his passion for them. I could not think of a better excuse for pursuing so many incredible pieces than having the guru to discuss them with!
    Had it not been for Bill sharing his passion, I would have almost certainly overlooked the medals and subsequently an essential part of Soho’s history. Any consideration of the Soho Mint is incomplete without also taking into account the role of medal engraving. As such, it seems fitting that his memory should live on in my collection as I pursue the very pieces that he once held in such high regard. I plan to build a detailed custom set, similar to my others, which highlights the rich history of the medals struck at the Soho Mint. I hope that by doing so, I may help others discover the series and perhaps extend the same generosity afforded to me by Bill. I regret to say that I only had the pleasure to purchase two items from him, both of which are pictured here. As you can see, Bill had a real eye for quality!  
     
  13. coinsandmedals

    My 2021 numismatic journey
    When I first started collecting Irish copper, I set a goal to complete a “type set” of the coinage struck at the Soho Mint. This set would only consist of three coins (i.e., an 1805 penny, 1805 halfpenny, and 1806 farthing). I limited myself to the business strike examples as I thought they would be more attainable given my budget. Within a year, I had a solid set built, and I have since been upgrading to nicer examples as they come up for sale. For instance, I recently upgraded the farthing from an MS-64 to an MS-66 example. Although the assigned grade is generally of little importance to me, in this case the 66 example was drastically superior to the 64. Likewise, I recently upgraded my penny from a brown (BN) to a red-brown (RB). I purchased both of these pennies raw and had them graded, and I am stoked that it is currently the only RB example graded at either NGC or PCGS. In both of these instances, a future upgrade is highly unlikely. I am still hunting for a suitable upgrade for the halfpenny, but I am in no hurry.

    With that set complete, my attention was then drawn to the proofs. My goal was simple, replicate the type set but with all proof examples. I decided to forgo adding gilt specimens as they are often much more expensive, and I generally do not find them particularly interesting. I had already acquired several very nice examples of the 1806 proof farthing by complete happenstance, so I only needed to track down the halfpenny and penny. The halfpenny proved to be a bit more challenging than I initially thought it would be. Most of the examples that came up for sale were gilt proofs, and the handful of non-gilt examples that were available were not very eye appealing. Eventually, a nice raw example came up for auction, and I did not hesitate to pull the trigger. As I often do, I had the coin graded mostly to protect it in the NGC slab and be able to display it in my custom registry sets. I was delighted when it came back with the cameo designation, but I regret not requesting NGC’s photo services as the toning paired with the cameo contrast make this coin a nightmare to photograph. Nonetheless, I have included my less-than-stellar photos here so you all can get a general idea of what it looks like.
    I now only lacked the 1805 proof penny, which would prove a sore topic for me until recently. The proof pennies tend to come up for sale much more frequently than either the farthings of halfpennies, which in part made me pickier about adding an example to the collection. I watched several very nice examples pass through various auction houses without placing a bid, mainly because these coins seemed to be selling for very strong prices. I did not want to pay an exorbitant price for a relatively common coin just to complete a set, but I was willing to pay more for an exceptional coin. I told myself that I would go all-in for a nice cameo piece (either graded or raw) or a nice example with the original shells. After a little over a year of searching, I stumbled upon my newest addition, an 1805 proof Irish Penny with the original silver-lined brass shells (pictured below)!

    It took me a bit longer than I initially expected, but I am happy to say that both of these type sets are complete! It is also worth noting that this is currently the only Irish piece in my collection that has retained its original shells. As some of you may know, I have a bit of a weakness when it comes to these pieces. For now, I am very excited to have this goal complete, but I may end up building another set in the near future. Maybe this time, I will include the gilt pieces.

  14. coinsandmedals
    It took me nearly six months to decide what to send, but I have finally convinced myself to submit a few of my better raw pieces for grading. This submission is a bit complex as it spans seven invoices and requires a few special requests. Luckily, my contact at NGC was more than willing to help. As many of you know, I have a fair number of Soho pieces that have retained their original shells. When possible, I have made an effort always to have the shells encapsulated alongside the coin in a multi-coin holder. Doing so allows me to ensure that the shells are less likely to be separated from the coin. After all, it would indeed be a shame to lose such a unique piece of Soho history that has been carefully curated over the last two centuries. In total I am only sending in 17 pieces for grading, but there are 43 items listed on the submission forms when including the shells. On any note, I wanted to share the pieces I am sending in (at least the ones I have pictures of). 
    1.       1799 Great Britain proof Farthing with shells

    2.       1791 Jean Jacques Rousseau medal – proof with shells

    3.       1800(11) Westminster Fire Office Medal – proof with shells

    4.       1804 Bombay Presidency Pice – Multicoin Reholder - As can be seen in the picture - this slab looks like a game used NHL hockey puck 

    5.       1803 Madras Presidency 10 Cash - Multicoin Reholder - Another hockey puck holder

    6.       1808 Madras Presidency 10 Cash - Multicoin Reholder - And yet another hockey puck holder

    7.       1805 Ireland proof Penny with shells

    8.       1793 Board of Agriculture Medal – proof with shells

    9.       1800 George III Preserved from Assassination Medal –Proof with shells

    10.   1803 Boydell's National Edition of Shakespeare's Works - with shells

    11.   1802 Peace of Amiens Medal – with shells
    12.   1793 Death of Gustavus III – proof with shells

    13.   1793 Execution of Louis XVI of France – Final farewell – proof with shells

    14.   1805 Bank of England $1 obverse die trial – proof
    15.   1753 England ½ Penny
    16.   1754 England Farthing
    17.   1917 Costa Rica 10 Centavos
    Thank goodness for the $500 grading credit from the NGC registry awards last year. That combined with the account credit for my membership will help, but I will still have a relatively substantial bill coming my way once it is all done. I will be sure to post updates as they become available. 
    Feel free to do a GTG if you feel so inclined.
  15. coinsandmedals
    So far, most of the medals I have presented have been the work of one of Soho's most prolific engravers, Conrad Heinrich Küchler. Luckily, a lot of the original correspondence relating to those pieces has been detailed in numerous publications and online databases, which has served to further my investigation. The same cannot be said for this medal, as it was engraved by a less well-known yet still influential Soho engraver, John Phillip. Given the lack of digitalized contemporary documents and nearly no mention of the piece in published works, I decided to focus my efforts on a different tool, auction catalogs. Scouring auction archives and dealer inventories that I have at my disposal led to an interesting discovery. Across these sources, no less than three different engravers were credited for the obverse and reverse dies! The gentleman I purchased the medal from indicated that it was the work of G.F. Pidgeon, but a well-respected auction house suggested Lewis Pingo. Yet, another stated the engraver was I. P. with no further elaboration. It appears, however, that all but perhaps the last, which is due entirely to lack of elaboration, is incorrect. Tungate (2020) details the chronological order of the numerous coins, tokens, and medals struck at the Soho Mint. She often reports known mintages and engravers. In this instance, she credits John Phillips for the Westminster Fire Office piece, but she classifies it as a token and notes that the piece is dated 1803 but was struck in 1811. I find this somewhat odd, as the piece does not imply any exchange of goods or services upon surrender, suggesting it is not a token but, in fact, a medal. Furthermore, the current piece and all of those I have since examined are not dated 1803. Nonetheless, I gave her suggestion that John Phillip engraved the die full consideration, as I did with all the others. The piece is signed "I. P." on both sides, which I soon discovered was, in fact, the initials used by John Phillips to mark his work. This is evident when examining other pieces engraved by him and produced at the Soho mint. With that mystery solved, one is only left to ponder the date provided for their manufacture, 1811. This point is significant as it relates to the silver-lined brass shells, but I will save that tidbit of information for the "notes" section below. 
    Historical Context: This medal was purchased well before my intent to create this set, but the simplicity of its design paired with the silver-lined-brass shells, original wrapper, and the provenance linking it to the James Watt Jr. Collection made this piece irresistible. I had no idea what the Westminster Fire Office was, much less why they commissioned medals to be struck the Soho Mint. As with every other piece in this collection, I sought to understand its history and why it came into existence. A quick internet search was all but a flop, but it did lead me to an interesting book published in 1952 by E. A. Davies, which detailed the formation of the Westminster Fire Office. Most of the information obtained and subsequently shared here originated from this book. I aim only to hit the highlights, but copies of the book can occasionally be found online if you find yourself intrigued.
    Founded in 1717, the Westminster Fire Office is one of the oldest and most distinguished English intuitions that offered fire insurance to building owners. As Davies (1952) argues, the Great Fire of London in 1666 brought about a wave of destruction that left countless people with virtually nothing. The wounds inflicted by this horrible event were still felt some 50 years later, and the current system to provide aid was insufficient. At the time, the King would authorize small amounts of aid, deemed "King's Briefs", which were under the control of local clergy and parish councils. The process was slow and rarely approved, making this antiquated system all but useless. To address the growing issue, several organizations came about in the 1680s that essentially offered insurance to those in need who could afford the initial costs.
    Our story begins with the Hand-in-Hand Office, which held its first meeting at Tom's Coffee House on November 12th, 1696 (Davies, 1952). Members operated the Hand-in-Hand Office for the sole purpose of protecting themselves from undue damage in the event of a catastrophic fire. The office was founded by roughly a hundred members from both Westminster and the City of London. The general membership appointed directors for two-year terms, and although they ran most of the day-to-day operations, their power was always in check by larger group membership which held a meeting twice a year. By January of 1699, Tom's Coffee House, located in Westminster, became the Hand-in-Hand Office's official headquarters, and all general meetings were initially held there until 1701 (Davies, 1952). As membership continued to increase, the original location was not deemed appropriate, and a larger venue in Westminster was adopted for a short period. Unappeased by the move, those who resided in London pushed for the meetings to be held in the city, but this would exclude those who resided in Westminster. A compromise was reached, allowing the general meetings to occur in London from Christmas to Midsummer and Westminster for the remaining portion of the year. This did little to appease the members from the city, and eventually, a new office was established in London. This would prove to be the demise of the importance of the Westminster office, and it was effectively closed by February of 1714. The new office would serve as the official meeting location. This placed a significant burden on those from Westminster, resulting in their loss of influence as they could not attend as many meetings. Seemingly betrayed, several members of the Hand-in-Hand Office set to correct the issue and met to establish the Westminster Fire Office at Tom's Coffee House in 1717.
    The founders wasted no time establishing the new organization, and by June of 1717, they were soliciting subscribers. The members agreed that the Westminster Fire Office would come to exist if they could raise enough subscriptions to seed the company with no less than £2000, which they had little trouble securing (Davies, 1952). Several documents were drafted detailing the general structure, policies, services offered, and all other inner workings of the Westminster Fire Office. As detailed in those documents, insurance policies were only to cover buildings, not their contents. Furthermore, homes made of timber were twice as expensive to insure relative to those made of stone or brick. Coverage was offered in seven-year terms, at a rate of 12 Shillings per £100 of building value, as assessed by the appointed surveyor. Those seeking membership were required to pay their dues upfront, which consisted of the above-mentioned cost dependent upon the building's value, a small few for the Office badge affixed to their building, and the necessary processing fees imparted by the government. Once paid, they were required to sign a Deed of Covenant that bound them to their membership. The Westminster Fire Office was designed to split any financial loss due to fire damage across members. This was done by reducing the dividend afforded to members at the end of their seven-year contract. To this extent, a membership could have little direct risk to the individual but came with a great deal of protection. These terms seem to have been very agreeable as, by the end of June, there were roughly 150 subscribers paying dues totaling £2,860 (Davies, 1952). The founders once again met at Tom's Coffee House on July 30th, 1717, to draft the Deed of Settlement to officially establish the Westminster Fire Office.
    The first general meeting of the newly established Westminster Fire Office took place just three weeks later. During this meeting, the first directors and "inferior officers" were appointed, and it was established that general meetings should occur in April and October of each year. The directors, however, were expected to meet weekly and perform a host of additional duties with an annual salary. These coveted positions often went to men of significant influence and wealth, which was likely for the best as the exceedingly meager salary was unlikely to attract anyone else. Directors could serve a maximum of two consecutive years, and new directors were appointed in the general meetings held in October of each year, during which no more than four were eligible for reelection. Upon serving, they were not eligible to run again until two years had passed. This process would be closely adhered to for nearly two hundred years. It interesting to note that a directorship was a position of honor, with little compensation and an enormous responsibility. For instance, directors were required to assess any fire damage done to insured buildings, no less than three were required to inspect a building requiring more than £1000 in coverage (this required a vote at the general meetings), and they were required to be present at all fires to direct the fire brigade. All of this, of course, is on top of the administrative duties of their office but afforded them no additional pay. In other words, being a director required a lot of dedication but offered little in return beyond prestige.
    The one duty that stuck out in my mind required that directors be present at every fire within the area, even if the Westminster Fire Office did not insure the building in distress. This might seem odd at first, but at the time, no public fire department existed in the area. Instead, fire brigades were established by the different Fire Offices and were conducted entirely by each respective organization (Davies, 1952). When a fire broke out, the brigades from all companies were dispatched, and they often worked together to put out fires. This practice ensured that damage was kept to a minimum and further secured the safety of the other uninflected buildings insured. Although some of these organizations were driven by pure profit, they all provided a much-needed public service. Serving on one of these brigades as a waterman or foreman also afforded many advantages. Perhaps the greatest of which was being immune to forced military service (i.e., press-gangs), granted by the Act of 1707 (Davies, 1952). Each organization was required to register the members with the Office of Admiralty, and this, paired with their distinctive uniforms and office badge, would render them immune to press-gangs.
    The Westminster Fire Office adopted its badge on September 3rd, 1717. The design by Roger Askew, one of the early directors, was relatively simple. The portcullis was adopted from the coat of arms of the City of Westminster, while the feathers were a tribute to the Prince of Whales (i.e., King George II). Davies (1952) notes that the soon-to-be King expressed great support for the Westminster Fire Office and even insured six of his properties within the first year of their establishment. Proud of the newly established office badge, members ensured it was used at nearly every possibility. Large cast lead renditions were made and numbered to denote the houses under the protection of the office, but perhaps the essential function it served was to distinguish the members of the company's fire brigade. Although the names of the waterman were registered with the Office of Admiralty, the badge served as an immediate symbol to denote their immunity to forced conscription. Furthermore, the badge allowed the waterman to identify the director on the scene charged with commanding them. As time went on and the success of the Westminster Fire Office afforded several expansions of the Fire Brigade, directors were no longer required to be on the scene of every fire. Nonetheless, the organization steeped in tradition continued to issue badges to directors. By the early nineteenth century, the Westminster Fire Office started issuing gold medals to directors as a token of appreciation for the level of dedication required to perform the duties of their position, especially in consideration of their minimal compensation.
    In the end, the Westminster Fire Office was exceptionally successful, and by 1757 they secured over 20,000 policies totaling more than £7,000,000 worth of insured property (Davies, 1952). This is even more impressive when one considers the limited scope of their operation at the time. As the organization continued to grow, there was an obvious need to make a few changes to the original charter. These changes were voted upon within the general meetings and, if adopted, were put in place somewhat informally. It wouldn't be until 1805 that the Deed of Settlement was amended to formalize previous changes, allow for the appointment of up to 24 directors, and extended the range of eligibility to all of England, Scotland, and Wales (Davies, 1952). As time went on and social services become more centralized, the Westminster Fire Office found themselves no longer in need of their fire brigade. After over 115 years of dedicated service, the Westminster Fire Office Brigade was dissolved in 1833. The changes enacted in 1805 eventually gave rise to field offices across England, Scotland, and Wales. For instance, A Westminster Fire Office branch was operating in Birmingham by 1886 (Davies, 1952). Eventually, the smaller organizations such as the Hand-in-Hand Society and the Westminster Fire Office found themselves outmatched in a world full of corporate conglomerates and were subsequently absorbed by the latter. In the case of the Westminster Fire Office, they were offered a generous buyout by the Alliance Insurance Company Limited. Although many longstanding members objected on the grounds of tradition, they gave in to reason, and the Westminster Fire Office was incorporated on March 12th, 1906 (Davies, 1952). Part of the terms put forth allowed the Westminster Fire Office to continue operations much like before, but under the constitution drafted by its new parent company. It appears that the organization was still running at the time of publication, as a list of directors for the year 1952 is provided early on in the book. The Author, A. E. Davies, is listed as the Manager and Secretary.  
     

    Obverse: The Westminster Fire Office was steeped in tradition. In fact, tradition was the only reason why these medals were commissioned. As such, it seems fitting to adhere to the general practice of using their badge on nearly all things officially associated with them. The obverse of this medal depicts the portcullis in the center, with sharply pointed spearheads on the ends. In keeping with the simple but elegant design style of the Soho Mint, the engraver John Phillips delicately balanced the need for simplicity with perhaps unnecessary detail. For instance, individual rivets are incorporated in the design of the portcullis at every naturally occurring joint. On either side, the portcullis is attached to a draw chain intersected by a mount with additional excess chain falling freely to either the outer side. As noted in the introduction, the portcullis was adopted from the arms of the City of Westminster. Immediately above and centered is an ornate crown with three large feathers protruding from the center. The feathers were supposedly a nod to the would-be King George II, who expressed interest in promoting the newly formed Westminster Fire Office. The lower pointed tips of the portcullis rest upon a platform with the word "ESTABLISHED" inscribed at the center. The date "MDCCXVII" appears below and supersedes the engraver's initials "I P.". The obverse legend appears at the inner portion of the innermost rim and is dived by the primary device, with "WESTMINSTER" appearing on the left and "FIRE OFFICE" on the right. The slightly raised inner rim that contains the legend is restricted within a wider rim of greater relief.
    Reverse: An oak wreath is depicted on the reverse consisting of two oak branches tied in the middle by a ribbon with a single loop and two loose ends. The loose end on the left drops down and is wrapped around the end of the right branch, while the right loose end flows down and then behind the end of the left branch. The engraver's initials "I · P ." appear below between the two loose ends. Fifteen oak leaves and eighteen acorns (two of which are incomplete) appear on the left branch, while sixteen leaves and seventeen acorns (two of which are incomplete) appear on the right branch. Although most of the leaves are detailed enough to include the veins, several appear devoid of detail, suggesting the die was lapped. The second cluster of leaves from the bottom on the left is an excellent example of this. The center of the medal is left intentionally blank to allow the name of the recipient to be engraved. This particular medal is not engraved, which supports the idea that it was never meant to be issued. Like the obverse, all of this is contained within a slightly raised inner rim, superseded by a substantially wider rim of greater relief.
    Edge: Plain
    Size:  40mm
    Notes: Researching this medal provided some beneficial information pertaining to the Silver-lined brass shells produced at the Soho Mint. Initially, it was thought the death medals issued by Matthew Robinson Boulton in memory of his father in 1819 were the first recorded pieces with the shells. I recently discovered a Westminster Fire Office Medal, struck in gold and issued to Henry Robins Esquire, who served as a director in 1816 and 1817. This particular medal is described as retaining the original red leather case of issue and the fitted copper shells. This medal was likely produced well before 1819 and therefore brings to question the time frame initially applied to the silver-lined brass shells. Of course, there is no way of directly proving this without examining either a receipt of the order placed by the Westminster Fire Office or the Soho archives in Birmingham. Both are not available online, and I doubt I will have the time and funds needed to cross the pond to investigate the issue within the foreseeable future.
    Another interesting point that should be made details the fate of the dies used to strike these medals once the Soho Mint was dismantled and sold at auction in 1850. Vice (1995) mentions that several dies used to strike medals were returned to the original entity that commissioned their production. In this case, it appears that one pair of dies for the Westminster Fire Office Medal were returned to them. I have yet to find any source that details what happened to the dies after that point. It is, however, worth noting that the current specimen is struck in copper and bronzed. To the best of my knowledge, no other bronzed specimen exists.
    Given that this piece is seemingly unique in that regard, I assume this was likely produced at the Soho Mint under the careful direction of James Watt Jr., who was an avid collector. It is no secret that he would sometimes use old dies to produce a piece or two that was missing from his collection of Soho Mint wares. Given that this medal was not struck in gold, it seems unlikely that it was ever meant to be issued, suggesting that it might have been a one-off to fill a hole in the otherwise remarkable collection of James Watt Jr, who was the Mint Director at the time. Morton and Eden auctioned off this piece and the rest of the Watt Jr. Collection in November 2002. It is recorded in their catalog as lot number 265 and realized a whopping £225. If only I had a time machine! In full transparency, a bronze example of a slightly different version of the Westminster Fire Office Medal resides in the British Museum (MG.1321); however, this piece at best seems to be derivative of the piece struck at the Soho Mint. I have included the link to this piece in the "interesting links" section.
    References:
    Davies, E. A. (1952). An Account of the Formation and Early Years of the Westminster Fire Office. Glasgow: Robert MacLehose & Co. Ltd.
    Tungate, S. (2020) Matthew Boulton and The Soho Mint: copper to customer. Worcestershire: Brewin Books.
    Vice, D. (1995). A fresh insight into Soho Mint restrikes & those responsible for their manufacture. Format Coins, Birmingham, 3-14.
    Interesting links:
    https://coins.ha.com/itm/great-britain/world-coins/great-britain-westminster-fire-office-gold-proof-medal-1717-1817-pr63andnbsp-deep-cameo-pcgs-/a/3051-30817.s?ic4=ListView-ShortDescription-071515
    https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/C_MG-1321
  16. coinsandmedals

    My 2021 numismatic journey
    I can’t keep up!
    I am sure many of you have noticed how insanely active the world coin market is lately. Even the super common coins that I could have picked by the dozens for a few hundred dollars are suddenly selling for 2-3 times what they were. This usually translates into me picking up my jaw off the keyboard as I watch otherwise unremarkable pieces fetch extremely strong prices auction after auction. This, of course, is expected for the truly exceptional pieces, but geez, when did the dredge become so desirable?
    Maybe it is time to break out the old blue plastic Whitman box and start sending stuff in to take advantage of this market. Some of the pieces that I might have $100 in are now demanding upwards of $300-400 so long as it is certified and at least average grade. Part of me wants to cash in, but even if I do, I very well may end up swapping coins for cash with little luck of being able to use that cash to fund future purchases as prices for more desirable coins are way out of whack. Even if I had the funds, I think I would be hesitant to pull the trigger and bid.
    So this makes me wonder what is driving the current market for world coins. I can think of a few factors that are undoubtedly influencing the stronger prices.
    The pandemic: There is little doubt that the events over the past year have, in the most general sense, had a positive impact on the current market. The most encountered argument is that people who were holed up at home had more time on their hands to devote to hobbies. The extra time paired with the money saved from not vacationing, eating out, or paying for entertainment and the stimulus checks influenced an increase in hobby-related spending. This is primarily speculative, but it does not seem too outlandish and justifies the resources needed to increase demand. So did demand actually increase? In the most general sense, the world coin market was not nearly as in demand relative to the U.S. coin market, so the threshold was pretty low. It is not surprising that prices realized would increase as demand continued to grow. This assumes that demand has increased and is not some odd instance in which the same number of bidders are suddenly willing to pay substantially more for somewhat common pieces. Based on the increase in both the number of bids and the number of active registered bidders for some of the more common pieces, it appears that demand has increased. So maybe the world coin market is finally realizing the upward adjustment that so many speculated would eventually occur. With an increase in demand, what influence does that, in turn, have on the supply? The easy argument would be that an increase in demand reduces the overall availability as collectors snap up pieces to add to their collection, which further escalates prices. As it relates to my niche area, availability only seems to be reduced in terms of graded material. It appears most major European dealers still have a healthy supply of raw material, but the majority never had much in the way of graded coins. This suggests that the increase in demand does not generalize to the entire spectrum of these coins but only to the tiny fraction that is graded. In some instances, even for very common world coins, there may only be a couple hundred (more often even less) graded examples but thousands of nice raw examples. This disproportionate demand artificially restricts perceived availability as buyers do not seem willing to pursue similar raw pieces of the same quality. This might also help explain the current backlog at the TPGs as people aim to cash in on this craziness. I think this is a bit ridiculous, but I also collect coins and not plastic. People are crazy. There are few other factors that I can think of that are likely driving this market, but the ones above seem to be the most obvious. I guess I will keep pursuing pretty inexpensive trinkets to hone my photography skills while I patiently await the next “must-have item” to hit the market. For now, my blue Whitman box will stay where it is until I am willing to go all-in on something exceptional.
    I assume I am not the only one who has been utterly destroyed in recent auctions. For me, it has now become the norm as I slowly try to adjust to this craziness. Who else has had similar experiences lately?    
  17. coinsandmedals
    Here is another sneak peek of a new NGC custom registry set that I am working on. Please feel free to share anything related!
    Collecting the medals struck at the Soho Mint introduces quite a bit of variety. Although I likely would have admired the artistry of the piece, I find it unlikely that I would have taken the time to procure it for my collection. Beyond the societal level impact of agricultural science, my general collecting interests are unrelated, and as such, this piece would not have normally garnered a second glance. Nonetheless, it was struck at the Soho Mint, and Küchler engraved the dies, and therefore it deserves a prominent position in my collection. It is interesting to note that Pollard (1970) attributes this medal as being struck in 1793, but more recent research by Tungate (2020) indicates that it was struck in 1797. The Board of Agriculture ordered medals in September of 1797, and Sinclair (the president at the time) requested that specimens in copper, silver, and gold be sent for inspection. Tungate (2020) notes that a bill of over £44 was sent to the Board of Agriculture on October 7th, 1799. This bronzed copper specimen has retained its original silver-lined brass shells and inscribed wrapper. It appeared as lot 227 of the 2002 Moton & Eden sale of the James Watt Jr. Collection. At the time, it sold for £260. Tungate (2020) indicates that only 74 of these pieces, across all metals, were reportedly struck. It appears that Matthew Pier Watt Boulton (i.e., Matthew Boulton’s grandson) retained the dies upon the Soho Mint's demise in 1850, but no other information about their whereabouts is known (Vice, 1995).
    Historical Context: I initially had some difficulty obtaining information about the Board of Agriculture. It appears most of the digitally available information pertains to the National Agricultural Society, still currently in operation. At the time, I did not realize how closely the two were related. The modern society owes its very existence to some degree to the original Board of Agriculture. This short narrative aims to familiarize readers with the historical context that gave rise to the medal presented and reiterate the cautious tale of unchecked egos and unrealistic ambitions. The two later facets were undeniably the eventual downfall of the Board of Agriculture.
    Although some degree of controversy once existed about who deserved credit for establishing the Board of Agriculture, it appears that this argument has essentially been put to rest in modern times (Clarke, 1898; Mitchison, 1959). Our story begins just before the idea for a Board of Agriculture became more than a fleeting fantasy. In April of 1793, the Kingdom was suffering from a currency shortage, and the government seemed to have few ideas of how to remedy the issue. Sir John Sinclair made a simple suggestion to issue temporary low-value exchequer bills in a total of £5,000,000 to temporarily relieve the shortage. Mitchison (1959) noted that Sinclair had already arranged for several bankers to send the money requested before the legislation had even moved beyond the preparation stage. This set up a nice quid pro quo situation in which Pitt found himself in the debt of Sinclair (Clarke, 1898; Mitchison, 1959). Sinclair, eager to call in his favor, floated the idea of establishing a Board of Agriculture. Pitt's understanding was that Sinclair was naming his price, and thus backed the proposal for the creation of such a board. With the help of Lord Melville, the idea was sent before the house for approval to formally present to the King. As reproduced by Clarke (1898), the proposal read:
    "That an humble Address be presented to His Majesty, entreating that His Majesty would be graciously pleased to take into his Royal consideration the advantages which might be derived by the public from the establishment of a Board of Agriculture and Internal Improvement: Humbly representing to His Majesty that, though in some particular districts, improved methods of cultivating the soil are practised, yet that, in the greatest part of these kingdoms, the principles of Agriculture are not yet sufficiently understood, nor are the implements of husbandry, or the stock of the farmer, brought to that perfection of which they are capable: That his faithful Commons are persuaded, if such an institution were to take place, that such inquiries might be made into the internal state of the country, and a spirit of improvement so effectually encouraged, as must naturally tend to produce many important national benefits, the attainment of which His Majesty has ever shown a most gracious disposition to promote; and, in particular, that such a measure might be the means of uniting a judicious system of husbandry to the advantages of domestic manufacturing industry, and the benefits of foreign commerce, and consequently of establishing on the surest and best foundations the prosperity of his kingdoms : And if His Majesty shall be graciously pleased to direct the institution of such a Board for a limited time, to assure His Majesty that his faithful Commons will cheerfully defray any expense attending the same to the amount of a sum not exceeding £3,000."
    The proposal was supported by many, as was customary further discussion was tabled until a second meeting held on May 15th, 1793. It appears, however, that by the next meeting, a large body of opposition had taken hold of the house, and Sinclair's proposal would be put to the test. Clarke (1898) lists some of the most boisterous members of the opposition, which included arguments that other societies such as the Society of Arts already performed the objective of the new board. The merits of this argument could be examined, but in reality, the potential of the proposed Board of Agriculture would far extend any mutual interest with the Society of Arts. Nonetheless, the Society of Arts had been established for over 40 years and by now was self-sufficient and therefore not reliant upon government funding. This led to a suggested amendment of the proposal that essentially eliminated the need for government funding (Clarke, 1898). Of course, this would have spelled doom of the Board of Agriculture, as the money provided by the government would at times be the only thing sustaining the board, and as we will soon see, without any government assistance, the board could not survive. Luckily the proposed revision was rejected, and the original proposal was overwhelmingly supported by a vote of 101 to 26. The newly formed Board of Agriculture and Internal Improvement was provided a royal charter.
    In Sinclair's haste to get things going, he inadvertently pissed off one man of considerable influence, Lord Chancellor Loughborough. Before the business of the new Board of Agriculture could begin, the Great Seal had to be affixed to its charter; however, Sinclair had already arranged for the board's first meeting to occur on August 22nd, 1793. He sent the Royal Charter to be sealed the day before with a note explaining his hope that the process would be done quickly, citing the meeting scheduled for the next day (Clarke, 1898). Aggravated by Sinclair's disregard for the duty of his office, Lord Loughborough took his time sealing the charter. The charter was not sealed, or at least Sinclair was not made aware it had been sealed until the afternoon of August 23rd, 1793, which required that the first meeting be postponed. The Royal Charter stated that the board was to be made of sixteen officers and thirty ordinary members. In addition, the board could appoint any number of honorary members as they needed, but the rights of these members were to be limited to attending and voting within general meetings on all matters unrelated to the internal structure of the board. The lowest class of membership consisted of corresponding members, which could include foreigners, who had no right to attend or vote in meetings. An annual meeting was to be held around March 25th, during which new officers would be elected, and five ordinary members would step down to allow five honorary members to be promoted. Usually, those who attended the least number of meetings were asked to step down (Clarke, 1898; Mitchison, 1959). All votes were to be cast by ballot and counted after each vote commenced. It appears this practice was employed throughout the lifespan of the Board of Agriculture. By March 18th, 1800, honorary members were granted the right to debate on all matters unrelated to the internal structure of the board, and it appears that such memberships reached a peak of over 500 by 1809 (Clarke, 1898). Although several notable changes were made to the powers associated with the presidency, the overall structure endured.
    The Board of Agriculture held its first meeting on September 4th, 1793, upon which the session was adjourned until January 23rd, 1794 (Clarke, 1898; Mitchison, 1959). It was during this period that set the board on a collision course that would take years to correct. The president, Sir John Sinclair, had an idea to send surveyors to all parts of the Kingdom to write reports upon the agricultural activities and best practices employed. In theory, that would not have been a terrible idea. Sinclair, however, acted in haste and set surveyors about their business without first consulting the other members or setting strict terms of the employment of the surveyors, nor the terms of publishing their findings (Clarke, 1898). During his first address, Sinclair made his plan clear to the other members, and it was eventually settled upon, but even if the other members objected, it was too late to halt what was already in motion. The cost of producing and subsequently printing the reports was extraordinary, and despite multiple complaints from those in charge of the board's finances, the damage had already been done. By May 11th, 1795, the board was in debt to the tune of £5,863 with only £200 in funds available on hand. If not all of it, most of this debt was incurred by Sinclair (Clarke, 1898). A resolution was eventually passed in March of 1797, limiting the president's powers to access funds held by the board, which undoubtedly was an effort to keep this madness from occurring in the future.
    Sinclair's reports were almost all received by July of 1795, but they were mostly in poor order (Clarke, 1898). The lack of coherent structure and the considerable variation in the quality of the reports made them all but useless. The reports hurt the board's reputation and, in some instances, roused suspicion about its intentions. One such incidence, as it relates to tithes, is well recorded as causing a rift between church leaders and government officials, which translated to tension between the board and all parties involved (Clarke, 1898; Mitchison, 1959). This tension would continue to cause issues for the board until its eventual demise. In short, the reports by large were a failure, and the cost of printing them far exceeded any revenue they generated. In 1796 the board decided to forego printing the remaining reports unless they merited special attention. In its place, they published "Communications", which aimed to disseminate the collective knowledge of the board. Of course, Sinclair added his own flair to the project and took no less than 82 printed pages to detail how the board came about (Clarke, 1898). During Sinclair's tenure as president, the board did influence several essential acts of parliament, such as the legislative action that shifted the responsibility to maintain proper weights to local magistrates. This reduced the ability of unethical traders to take advantage of the poor by ensuring they received the fair amount of product they paid for. Clarke (1898) detailed that perhaps the most crucial development was the report made of Joseph Elkington's methods of draining wastelands. Without the action of the Board of Agriculture, his knowledge would have undeniably been lost upon his death as he made no effort to write about his practices. Despite all of the advances made, Sinclair left the board in deep debt.
    A new president was elected in 1798, John Southey Somerville, and his quick thinking eventually resolved the financial issues of the board. When he took office, the board was £420 in debt with an anticipated incoming expense for services rendered that amounted to an additional £1692 (Clarke, 1898). He proposed that all printing, except for that done to publish the communications be seized, and that no less than £400 of the yearly government grant of £3000 be put aside to pay off debt each year until it was resolved. Seizing to print Sinclair's reports amounted to a saving of £1000 per year. He further proposed that the savings should be used to offer premiums (i.e., prizes) for essays of "discoveries and improvements in the most important and leading points of husbandry", which was adopted by the Board on May 25th and 29th of 1798 (Clarke, 1898). This system of annual prizes would become a permanent fixture of the Board of Agriculture, and by 1800 there were no less than 23 prizes offered for essays on a host of topics. These prizes were intended to be honorary awards of little financial significance, so it is not surprising that gold and silver medals were the original source of recognition. As time went on, monetary rewards were associated with the medals, and in some instances, the entire prize was monetary (Clarke, 1898). Nonetheless, the medal depicted here is of the general design employed by Küchler at Mathew Boulton's Soho Mint. The essay's provided useful material that allowed the board to fulfill its primary task of disseminating knowledge about best practices. In short, the annual prizes proved an effective tool to generate new material that the board could then, in turn, publish and sell to others. 
    The annual prizes would serve a critical role in late 1800 and early 1801. The price of wheat had skyrocketed. This provided a large amount of motivation to convert otherwise fertile grasslands into wheat farms to turn a handsome profit on the temporarily high prices. The consequences of doing so were not well understood. The Board of Agriculture played an important role in what would have otherwise been a national catastrophe had the majority of the grasslands been converted. On December 17th, 1800, the board offered prizes totaling £800 for related essays, further supplemented by an additional £800 provided by parliament (Clarke, 1898).  Over 350 essays were submitted, which gave rise to a report on June 19th, 1801, presented to the Lord's Committee laying out the recommended course of action (Clarke, 1898). as it turns out, converting the grasslands to produce wheat was detrimental to the soil and caused enough destruction to make its conversion back to grasslands nearly impossible. As Clarke (1898) argued, this undoubtedly played a crucial role in saving some of the most bountiful grasslands in the world.
    As useful as the Board of Agriculture could have been, the government largely dismissed it, and its somewhat peculiar status made many question its true intentions. This is very clear when considering the general dismissal of the board's recommendation to avoid what they predicted would be a massive food shortage in 1800. The board recommended that the government import large quantities of rice from India through the East India Company, but the government ignored their pleas (Clarke, 1898). The food shortage of 1800 eventually became so widespread that the government decided to act, but they were too late, and by the time the rice had arrived, the issue was resolved by a large crop yield in 1801. In all, the failure of the government to heed the warning of the board is estimated to have cost upwards of £2,500,000 (Clarke, 1898). Throughout the remaining years of the board, they worked diligently to influence the passing of an enclosure act, but the rift between them and the church made this all but impossible (Clarke, 1898; Mitchison, 1959). The government already dismissed the board out of hand, and with the influence of the church against them, they truly stood little chance of being effective in their efforts.
    The Board of Agriculture hit an era of prosperity, and by 1819 they had a positive balance of over £2,000. The yearly government grant was soon to be applied for, and for reasons not entirely clear to me, the board decided only to request £1,000 of the usual £3,000 grant (Clarke, 1898). This lapse of judgment would prove nearly fatal for the board as the government soon decided to withdraw any consideration of further government funding. Without the annual influx of the government grant, the board's financial situation became bleak. In part, this was due to their inability to scale down their scope of activities within the means of their available funds. They continued to offer hefty prizes for related essays and spent large sums of money organizing exhibits. To offset these costs, the board opted to raise money through donations and subscriptions. This practice was later extended to the general public, who could become an honorary member with the endorsement of two existing members. This privilege came with a subscription fee of £2 and two shillings per year or twenty guineas for life membership (Clarke, 1898). From contemporary documents, it appears this was initially a success, but by May 24th, 1822, it was clear that some form of government grant would be needed to maintain the board. Although the leadership petitioned parliament, they were not granted any further support of a notable amount. Eventually, plans were made to dissolve the board, and it was decided that relevant documents should be relinquished to the Record Office in the Tower. In addition, the remaining balance of the board minus the expenses paid to publish any worthy work were turned over to the board to the Chancellor of Exchequer. This amount summed to just over £519 and was relinquished just before the board's final meeting on June 25th, 1822 (Clarke, 1898).
    As noted by Clarke (1898) and Mitchison (1959), the Board of Agriculture fell victim to many shortcomings that eventually led to self-destruction. Perhaps the greatest of which was the board's inadvertent quarrel with the church of England over a perceived threat to tithes, which in turn led to friction between the church and government. This friction between the two harbored a great deal of intense ill-will between the board and both church and government officials (Clarke, 1898). It is little wonder why the board was never able to secure additional funding, much less influence a sweeping reform of the enclosure act. Nonetheless, the board of agriculture did impart several notable influences on the current state of agricultural science. If nothing else, it laid a solid foundation for the Royal Agricultural Society of England. The latter would continue the work of the former, expanding upon their research while also avoiding the same pitfalls that led to the demise of its ancestor. There is so much more to this story, and the information provided above is only a tiny portion of the fascinating history surrounding the Board of Agriculture and its members. I encourage those interested in learning more to seek out the publications I have cited repeatedly here.

    Obverse: The obverse design depicts King George III facing right. Unlike Kuchler's usual renditions, the King is neither draped nor armored, but instead, the bust is truncated with the initials "C. H. K." appearing at the undermost portion. The King's hair is short, with several small locks of hair falling closely behind his neck and a large lump of hair appearing just above his ear. Resting upon his head is a crown of laurel tied together by a knot with two bows and two loose ends. The second bow is partially obscured by the first, but both extend behind the King's head toward the rim. The two loose ends fall behind the neck, one of which closely adheres to the curve of the truncation and partially rests below it. A large wave of hair partially obscures the laurel crown just below the three uppermost leaves. The legend "GEORGIUS III · D : G · MAG · BR · REX." appears near the bust of George III. This legend is contained within a neatly formed circle of tiny beads. Between the innermost rim and the beaded circle is an open wreath. The left-hand side is a laurel branch, while the right appears to be wheat. The two branches are tied at the bottom center of the medal by a knot with one big bow and two loose ends. The loose end on the left wraps around the front of the laurel branch, while the right wraps behind the wheat branch to the front. The inner beaded circle and wreath are superseded by a piece of partially rolled parchment, upon which the legend "BOARD OF AGRICULTURE ESTABL'D · 23 · AUG · 1793 ·" appears. This is contained within a relatively wide and raised rim, which shows numerous rust spots indicating that this die was improperly stored for some time before being reused.
    Reverse: The reverse of this medal depicts an allegorical figure designed to represent agriculture. She stands in the center facing right and wearing a loose-fitting gown draped over her shoulders, which extends to her sandaled feet. In her right hand, she holds some tool that is not immediately identifiable to me. Her left hand rests upon a spade partially dug into the ground with a snake coiled around it. Resting upon her head is a winged cap. She stands upon a piece of land at the foreground with small pieces of grass protruding through, upon which "C · H · KÜCHLER . FEC·" appears on the exergual line. In the immediate background, a plough appears to her left, and two tools, one of which is a scythe, appear to her right. I am not sure what the second tool is, and it appears Boulton was also unsure as he asked Küchler, "What is this ball intended for?" in his notes upon the initial design (Tungate, 2020). It is worth noting the distant background appears to depict two very different farming landscapes (i.e., the flatlands and a mountainous region). Immediately above and wrapping around the inner portion of the rim is a blank ribbon partially rolled on each end. In exergue, the word "VOTED" appears in the upper right corner. These two areas were left initially blank so that the medal could be engraved with the winner's details; however, as noted by Pollard (1970), a significant degree of variation occurred in how this was executed. This is contained within a relatively wide and raised rim, which shows numerous rust spots indicating that this die was improperly stored for some time before being reused.
    Edge: Plain – although it appears some medals were engraved with the winner's details (i.e., name, titles, and what it was awarded for).
    Size:  48mm
    Notes: Interestingly, a single bronzed copper specimen resided in the James Watt Jr. Collection. We know that Sinclair requested that specimens in copper, silver, and gold be sent, but it seems unlikely that many copper or bronzed copper pieces would be struck. These were prize medals commissioned on behalf of the Board of Agriculture, meaning that the quantity struck was under the careful control of Boulton at the board's request. We know from other contemporary accounts that Boulton refused to sell copies of commissioned pieces, even to his most esteemed collectors (Pollard, 1970). Given other contemporary information, it is likely safe to assume that this medal was produced at the Soho Mint under the careful direction of James Watt Jr., who was an avid collector. It is no secret that he would sometimes use old dies to produce a piece or two missing from his collection of Soho Mint wares. The Board of Agriculture seized to exist in mid-1822, which coincides nicely with Watt Jr.'s tenure as Master of the Mint. Given that this medal was not struck in gold or silver, it seems unlikely that it was ever meant to be issued, suggesting that it might have been a one-off piece struck later to fill a hole in an otherwise remarkable collection. This would also account for the numerous rust spots throughout the obverse and reverse designs.
    References:
    Clarke, E. (1898). History of the Board of Agriculture 1793-1822. London: Royal Agricultural Society of England.
    Davies, E. A. (1952). An Account of the Formation and Early Years of the Westminster Fire Office. Glasgow: Robert MacLehose & Co. Ltd.
    Mitchison, R. (1959). The Old Board of Agriculture (1793-1822). The English Historical Review, 74(290), 41-69.
    Tungate, S. (2020) Matthew Boulton and The Soho Mint: copper to customer. Worcestershire: Brewin Books.
    Vice, D. (1995). A fresh insight into Soho Mint restrikes & those responsible for their manufacture. Format Coins, Birmingham, 3-14.
    Interesting links:
    https://merl.reading.ac.uk/collections/royal-agricultural-society-of-england/
    https://www.library.wales/discover/digital-gallery/printed-material/gwallter-mechains-reports-for-the-board-of-agriculture
  18. coinsandmedals

    My 2021 numismatic journey
    1797 twopence – Genuine Example

     
    Matthew Boulton's Soho Mint was able to rapidly produce high-quality copper coinage that would stand the test of time and ultimately meet the needs of the general. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to refute the accomplishments of the Soho Mint. Still, some may wonder if his coinage was immune to the counterfeiting that had plagued England for centuries. To address this, we must first revisit the pence and twopence pieces of 1797. Despite the lack of edge lettering, the new pence and twopence pieces did have some features that would deter counterfeiting. For one, the coins were well made and noticeably more massive than any other circulating regal piece. Their expansiveness allowed for the possibility of wide raised rims that contained the incuse legend. The large raised rims would help protect the primary devices from excessive wear, and the incuse legend assured it would survive long after the raised rims wore down. All of this is to say that for counterfeits to pass, they would have to be of much higher quality, which would likely translate into less profit for the counterfeiters. Although not the intent of Boulton, there was another factor that protected at least the twopence pieces. As it turns out, the general public was not very fond of them (Selgin, 2011). They were enormous and heavy which made them too bulky to carry around in any quantity. Because of this, they tended to build up in storekeeper's drawers, but the storekeepers had no real way of exchanging them for paper money or silver. All of these factors made them unpopular and therefore were less susceptible to counterfeiting. However, I cannot say the same for modern counterfeiters, as these pieces seem to be a favorite target. Pictured below is a modern counterfeit of the type that is rather convincing upon initial inspection and conforms to the standard weight, diameter, thickness, and overall design as an original. Still, there are subtle differences in design that distinguish it as a counterfeit when comparing it to a genuine example from my collection (i.e., the one pictured with the black background). I have listed each coin's basic specifications and included the same information for genuine examples in parentheses. See if you can spot the markers that distinguish this "1797 twopence" as a fake!
    1797 "twopence" – Modern Counterfeit

    Weight: 55.80 grams (56.69 grams)
    Diameter: 41 mm (40.64 mm)
    Thickness: 5 mm (5 mm)
    Edge: Plain (Plain)
    The Pennies were also rather large and heavy (i.e., 36 mm and weighed an ounce), but they were better received than their larger counterparts and circulated in excess of the next 65 years (Dyer, 1996). This made for an ideal target for counterfeiters. The large raised rims, incuse legend, and high quality did not prove sufficient to curb counterfeiting (Ruding, 1799; Ruding, 1819; Doty, 1998; Selgin, 2003). Individuals could collect genuine examples, melt them down, and make lightweight pieces. The excess copper from this process would yield substantial profit. Although this never became a widespread problem, it contradicted Boulton's claim that his coins were far too high quality to be counterfeited, and he had a vested interest in curbing the issue. Most notably, he wished to secure future contracts to strike regal English copper, and this counterfeit issue could prove a considerable hindrance. Boulton was so concerned that he announced a 100 guinea payment for actionable information about the counterfeiters (Doty, 1998). As detailed by numerous sources, this led to a man named William Phillips to come forward with information about three counterfeiting outfits located in none other than Birmingham (Dickerson, 1936; Peck, 1964; Selgin, 2011). Boulton acted on this information, which eventually led to numerous arrests.
    Although some of the earlier pieces were low-quality casts that were easily identified, the counterfeits became quite sophisticated as time went on. As noted by Clay and Tungate (2009) and further substantiated by Selgin (2011), the shallow designs proved to be much easier to reproduce than Boulton thought. Soon counterfeiters were engraving dies and striking pieces that were close replications of the actual coins despite the use of hand-operated presses. For those of you interested, Dickerson (1936) gives a full unabridged replication of the letter Boulton sent to the Lords of the Committee on Coin, which details the simultaneous raid on three separate counterfeiting facilities. However, so far, the focus of the counterfeits discussed were products created from fake dies. Peck (1964) notes that some counterfeits were produced using genuine dies that were stolen from the Soho Mint. He makes this argument based on the die diagnostics of the pieces he observed. I have complete confidence in his conclusions; however, I have had no luck finding additional information on this topic. He even mentions that the origin of these struck counterfeits using genuine dies remains a mystery.
    1797 “pence” - Contemporary Counterfeit Pence NGC VF-20

    Weight: 18.91 grams (28.34 grams)
    Diameter: 34.4 mm (35.8 mm)
    Thickness: 2 mm (3-3.5 mm)
    Edge: Plain (Plain)
    An odd discrepancy to this point comes from Doty (1998), who points out that the working dies for the pence and twopence pieces were destroyed under the supervision of a Royal Mint official on July 26th, 1799. Of course, this does not preclude the possibility the dies were stolen before being destroyed, or that perhaps by "destroyed", he means that the dies were defaced. This would certainly explain the large gash across the reverse of the contemporary counterfeit pictured above, which was struck using genuine Soho dies (i.e., P-1110). Peck (1964) mentions that the pieces were struck on a light planchet that was roughly 1 mm thinner than usual (i.e., 2 mm instead of 3 mm) and weighed substantially less (i.e., about 19 grams compared to a full ounce). The weight alone is enough to give these coins away; however, the next biggest clue can be found within the legends which run into the rims. The struck pieces using the genuine Soho dies (i.e., Peck-1110) are rather good, and I imagine these readily passed as currency at the time. To take this one step further, I would not be surprised if these fooled some collectors who assumed they were well-circulated genuine examples.
    The information provided above is well documented by multiple modern publications and numerous contemporary sources. However, the information presented from this point forward is something that I am still working to disentangle. That said, if you have any relevant information, please let me know!
    Since the production of the 1797 and 1799 coinage, the price of copper had risen dramatically. It appears the rising cost of copper had created a sense of concern among The House of Commons that the now heavy copper coinage of 1797 and 1799 would be largely exploited. They go so far as to state their concern for the melting of copper coin put in circulation in 1797 and 1799 in the indenture dated March 26th, 1805, which provided Boulton the green light to produce the 1806 coinage. I can imagine their fears were confirmed with reports of large quantities of pence and twopence pieces being collected with the intent to melt them down. One such report was detailed in The Times on April 13th, 1805, in which eight casks of these coins weighing over 2000 pounds were seized by police (Peck, 1964). It stands to reason that the House of Commons was concerned that England's state of copper coinage would once again slip into disarray if left unchecked. The natural solution was to dissuade rampant melting and subsequent reintroduction of lightweight counterfeits with a fresh supply of regal copper coinage of the proper weight. It appears, however, that this might have also had unintended consequences. The steep rise in copper prices necessitated the reduction in weight of the proceeding English copper struck at the Soho Mint in 1806 and 1807, which now provided a different source of profit for counterfeiters. They could now produce their renditions of the new regal coinage using the heavy twopence and pence pieces as a supply of raw material. To make matters even better, they could closely adhere to the standard weight of the new pieces, and the general public would likely be none the wiser, all the while generating a handsome profit for themselves. Production of the new regal coinage did not officially start until March 20th, 1806, with farthings taking precedence over pence and halfpence. Accordingly, Doty (1998) reports that by March 31st, 4,833,768 farthings were delivered and 19,355,480 pence closely followed that in May, and 87,893,526 halfpence by the end of June. Production of farthings, halfpence, and pence continued into 1807, yielding an additional 1,075,200 farthings, 41,394,384 halfpence, and 11,290,168 pence. The mass production seemingly overwhelmed distribution efforts. In fact, it appears that the distribution of the third English contract was not complete until 1809 (Doty, 1998). Once production had stopped, a total of 165,842,526 new copper coins had been released into circulation, leading to a glut in copper coinage. The new security features of the 1806/1807 coinage likely made it increasingly difficult to produce convincing counterfeits. Passing their counterfeit wares was also likely made much more difficult once a healthy supply of the genuine article was available for comparison. Nonetheless, several of these counterfeits have survived for modern collectors.
    Any documentation regarding other contemporary counterfeits of Soho English copper beyond those of the 1797 coinage is nearly non-existent. I have several books on counterfeit English copper coinage, only one of which mentions a Soho piece. In his 2015 publication entitled "Counterfeit Georgian Copper Coins", Richard Coleman only lists one contemporary counterfeit of an 1806 halfpence (CH-1806B-1; page 82). He notes that this piece appears to be die struck and in good form. He also provides scant commentary of design details that distinguish it as a counterfeit. I have in my collection a contemporary counterfeit 1806 halfpence (pictured below) that appears to differ from the one pictured in his book, suggesting that more than one variety exists. It stands to reason that others also exist, but the lack of auction appearances paired with next to little documentation makes it nearly impossible to form any solid conclusions. If only the counterfeiters kept such meticulous records as Matthew Boulton.
    1806 “halfpence” - Contemporary Counterfeit (with edge included in the picture)

    Weight: 8.7 grams (9.45 grams)
    Diameter: 27.18 mm (29 mm)
    Thickness: 2 mm (2-2.5 mm)
    Edge: Partially engrailed but very shallow (deeply engrailed)
    Likewise, it appears that contemporary counterfeit 1807 halfpence also exist. I have one such piece in my collection that seems undocumented in any reference that I have found to date. A more crudely executed and moderately circulated example came up for auction earlier this year, suggesting that others likely also exist. Although somewhat unrelated, it is worth noting that the counterfeit sold for more than a graded MS-64 genuine example would likely have fetched at the time. The piece pictured below has a plain edge, numerous design, and basic specification discrepancies, distinguishing it as a circulated contemporary counterfeit.
    1807 “halfpence” - Contemporary Counterfeit

    Weight: 6.42grams (9.45 grams)
    Diameter: 27.93 mm (29 mm)
    Thickness: 1.43 mm (2-2.5mm)
    Edge: Plain (deeply engrailed)
    I recently acquired a counterfeit 1806 penny, the first of which that I have come across. It is interesting to note that no mention of contemporary counterfeit pence pieces is made in any reference beyond the counterfeit 1797 pieces. In this instance, the coin closely adheres to the standard specifications, but the plain edge and numerous design discrepancies help identify this piece as a circulated contemporary counterfeit. Also, like the 1806 halfpence, this piece has a color more consistent with what one would expect from a piece struck in brass.
    1806 "penny" – Contemporary Counterfeit

    Weight: 18.60 grams (18.89 grams)
    Diameter: 34 mm (34 mm)
    Thickness: 4 mm (3 mm)
    Edge: Plain (deeply engrailed)
    Despite Boulton's claims, his coinage was not immune to counterfeiting, but this does little to detract from his undeniable legacy. Before his involvement, the counterfeiting issue was so prevalent that a Royal Mint report from 1787 estimates that 92% of circulating copper was counterfeit (Peck, 1964). Although I do not have an estimated number to report, I would hazard to guess that this number was substantially lower and remained so after Boulton flooded the country with high-quality copper coinage. In my humble opinion, the Soho Mint products are some of the most exciting pieces that portray a story of rapid advancements in the art and science of minting. This era of profound development played a critical role in curbing mass counterfeiting and established a legacy that can still be felt some two centuries later in our modern coinage.
     Although not nearly as eye-appealing as the genuine articles, contemporary counterfeits are an integral part of the story that provides a different lens to view the historical context that gave rise to their existence. In this instance, they provide a unique glimpse into the effectiveness of Matthew Boulton's Soho Mint against a crime that plagued England for well over five centuries. Without their existence, one might falsely conclude that Boulton's coinage was immune to the very issue it set out to correct.
    Please feel free to share any contemporary counterfeits in your collection, even if they are from a different country, era, or metal! 
  19. coinsandmedals
    I think I have officially hit the point where I can no longer justify the expense of new additions. There have been some stellar coins offered for sale already this year, but more often than not, these pieces realize prices that are just a bit out of my comfort zone. Consequently, I have only added four new noteworthy pieces to my collection, which pales compared to last year. On any note, I am delighted with my latest purchase which brings back memories of a much simpler time. A time before COVID, before insane auctions prices, and before I was thoroughly infected with the bug of collecting Soho pieces.

    We can probably all think back to the first piece that eventually became the foundation of a new collecting pursuit. For me, this took the form of a 1788 Great Britain pattern Halfpenny (P-945) struck at the Soho Mint (pictured above). I remember being sucked into the history and immense conflict between Jean Pierre Droz (the engraver of this coin) and the founder of the Soho Mint, Matthew Boulton. Fast forward several years and that research has dramatically expanded and now represents almost all of my numismatic pursuits. There is just so much fascinating history left to be discovered! The original piece holds a special place in my collection, and I am ecstatic to add a second similar example alongside it.
    My newest purchase is the “1788” Great Britain pattern Halfpenny (P-1003) pictured below. Although this piece is dated 1788, it was likely struck nearly a century later. Peck classifies this variety as a restrike, meaning that it was struck using Soho dies sometime after the demise of the Soho Mint. I provide more detail about restrikes in the introduction of my registry set, so if you are looking for more information about restrikes, it can be found there. On any note, this piece was likely struck in the 1880s by Taylor after he acquired the dies from Matthew Pier Watt Boulton, the grandson of Matthew Boulton. Often dubbed “Taylor restrikes”, these pieces make the proper attribution of English coinage struck at the Soho Mint far more complicated, as he often intentionally created new varieties to sell to unsuspecting collectors. When considering the sheer number of restrike varieties paired with the frequency with which some of these come up for sale, it appears that this was a relatively successful operation. For instance, we know that 10 of these pieces, along with 794 other restrikes of different varieties and types, were part of a consignment from W. J. Taylor’s workshop on June 29th, 1880 (Peck, 1964). This was a single consignment, and it stands to reason that multiple of this caliber were likely placed over the careers of Taylor and his two sons. As such, it would be nearly impossible to ascertain how many of each variety were produced. Peck (1964) specifically notes that this variety (i.e., P-1003) was created with the sole intent of creating something new to trick unsuspecting collectors.

    Although Peck (1964) notes this coin as rare, it appears to be much more common than other similarly rated varieties, with nearly 60 examples coming up for sale over the last five decades. This estimate only includes the examples attributed by TPGs and numerous auction houses. It makes no effort to include those not directly attributed, so the actual number of market appearances is likely higher. However, this example is somewhat more unique because both the obverse and reverse are double struck, the reverse being far more dramatic than the obverse. From my estimates, it appears the obverse is double struck with about a 3-degree rotation between strikes. The reverse, however, is double struck with about 21 degrees of rotation between strikes. The result is a coin that looks as though it has been circulated, but the flat areas are where the strikes overlapped. This is abundantly apparent when examining the bust of King George III and the outer portion of Britannia’s shield. In contrast, examining the inner portion of the shield demonstrates the conflicting design details. It will be interesting to see how NGC grades this piece, given its odd nature.
    So what got you started in your current collecting pursuits? Has it come full circle as it has for me? 
  20. coinsandmedals

    My 2021 numismatic journey
    The current market, especially for certain world coins, is absolutely insane. As I alluded to in my earlier journals, I have decided to slow down a bit to focus my efforts on more pressing personal matters, but I have kept a close eye on the auctions out of pure curiosity. As a mere spectator, I place a few lots on my watch list and resist checking on it again until after the auction is over. I have made an early Saturday morning routine of making a cup of coffee and relaxing while I see how my watched lots performed. I wasn't too shocked initially, as I had always thought the world coin market was a bit underappreciated, but recently I find myself nearly spitting out my coffee in shock as the page loads. Of course, there are exceptions in which an "average" coin sells for "average" money but generally speaking, prices are up across the board.
    The most recent coin to send my coffee spewing across my computer screen was a gilt-proof 1805 Irish Penny graded by NGC as PF-66 Cameo. Although this coin is nice and seemingly deserving of the cameo designation, the fields look hazy, and honestly, the coin does not seem to merit the grade assigned. I have personally handled much nicer examples, both raw and graded, over the years. Nonetheless, gilt Soho proofs tend to command high prices, and I assessed the auction estimate of $800-1200 to be absurdly low. Although I'm not too fond of the coin for the grade, I know the label in a U.S.-based auction house would command a premium, and I estimated it would sell for around $2500. You can imagine my shock when I checked it the following Saturday morning and realized it sold for $8,400!
    The next hour was spent trying to figure out why this coin sold for as much as it did. My initial hunch was that the label unduly influenced the price, as the coin itself was far from the nicest example I have encountered. As is often the case, the cameo and ultra-cameo designation for this series can command multiples of the selling price for a non-designated piece. It seemed plausible that this piece might be the finest graded in numeric grade and designation (i.e., none graded above 66 cameo and no 66 ultra-cameos). Although PF-66 is the highest assigned grade, there are two ultra-cameos assigned the same grade at NGC. In fact, there is only a single gilt example graded by NGC that was not awarded either a cameo or ultra-cameo designation out of the 11 recorded. That said, it seems very unlikely that the combination of the assigned grade and cameo designation alone could count for the high price. Although I could not find an auction record for any of the ultra-cameos, an NGC PF-65 cameo example sold in January of 2018 for $1400 (including the BP). It seems insane to think that a single-point bump, which would still not truly qualify the coin as a "top pop" is enough to justify the extra $7400! Assuming this was not some sort of fluke, I can't help but wonder what the two NGC PF-66 ultra-cameos would fetch at auction today.
    Other notable "label coins" came up to auction recently that fell short of their auction estimates. Perhaps the most notable example from my realm of collecting was a gilt-proof 1799 British ½ Penny graded NGC PF-68 cameo. The auction estimate was $4000-6000, but it limped across the auction block at $2880 (with BP). The assigned grade paired with the cameo designation is a grand slam for the label enthusiasts. The next closest graded gilt-proof example is a PF-66 ultra-cameo, and it isn't even the same variety. With that context, the price realized for the Irish piece seems even more outlandish.
    Many of you have expressed similar situations, and I would be very curious to hear examples from your collecting area that also highlight the madness of the current world coin market. Would you mind sharing those here?
  21. coinsandmedals
    Here is another sneak peek of a new NGC custom registry set that I am working on. Please feel free to share anything related!
    The Boydell Shakespeare medal is so named because of the gentleman who commissioned its production, Alderman John Boydell. Saving any historical tidbits for the section below, it is worth mentioning that this medal is a notable exception to those typically struck at the Soho Mint. The design directly violates the guidance Boulton provided to Droz in a letter fifteen years earlier. In his letter dated December of 1787, Boulton instructs Droz that "Any allegorical figures should be few and simple and as free as possible from obscurity". This guiding principle was closely adhered to at the Soho Mint well after Droz departed, yet this medal clearly violates this. The obverse design depicts two allegorical figures, which without additional context would likely be easy to identify, but the depiction of Shakespeare absent the inscription on the reverse would prove far more obscure. As it turns out, the obverse was closely modeled after the sculpture created by Thomas Banks in 1789 at the direction of Boydell (Pollard, 1970), which explains why Boulton's general design principles were seemingly disregarded. This is one of a handful of collaborative pieces between Küchler and Phillps, the obverse being engraved by the former and the reverse by the latter. According to Pollard (1970), the dies for the medal would be completed by the summer of 1802, but Boydell would not issue the medals until 1805, which he would later blame on the Soho Mint. It is worth noting that nearly all of these medals were struck in silver, with only a handful of gold specimens, one of which was presented to King George III. Additionally, it appears that several were likely struck in copper at a later date under the careful supervision of James Watt Jr. The presence of these "late Soho" pieces is interesting given that Boulton refused a request made by his friend, Ambrose Weston, to purchase an additional copy of the medal. In the excerpt provided by Pollard (1970), Boulton is recorded to have said the following in his response –
    "… I shall charge the die to the Alderman, I cannot honorably strike one medal more from it than the number he think proper to order; but I suppose he could have no objection to obliging any of his subscribers with duplicates or more upon their paying for them…".
    Perhaps Watt Jr. felt justified in producing the copper versions, given that the venture giving rise to the production of the originals had since been relinquished by Boydell. On any note, Tungate (2020) reports that 654 were struck in 1804 and 1805, with an additional 100 examples being struck in 1807. Regardless of when they were struck, all examples are dated 1803 and adhere to the standard specifications agreed upon by Boulton and Boydell. According to Vice (1995), the dies for this medal were held for Matthew Pier Watt Boulton when deciding how to dismantle the Soho Mint in 1850. From his records, it appears that one punch and two dies were never in danger of being included in the original auction catalog. Although their existence is possible, restrikes in the typical sense (i.e., medals struck after the demise of the Soho Mint) are not known to me.
     
     
    Historical Context: John Boydell sought to apply art to commerce in a way that would subsequently appeal to the nationalistic sensitives of the era while also generating a handsome profit for himself. As already mentioned in the introduction to this set, the appreciation of art and design had gradually transformed from an activity restricted to the elite to something predominantly consumed by the rising middle class. From a business perspective, a larger base of consumers paired with the tastes of popular society provided an environment ripe for opportunity. The encouragement of the arts was seen as a noble pursuit, and patrons of any level were often held in high esteem. This fact was likely not lost on Boydell, but he and his partners took it one step further. According to Friedman (1973), historical painting was held in the highest regard by both society and the Royal Academy, but it had been in decline for some time as contemporary artists could generate far more income for themselves by focusing on portraits and landscapes. This translated into a sense of national embarrassment as foreign artists were all too willing to fill the gap, which directly inflamed English societal efforts to gain independence from foreign artists and establish themselves as a beacon of art among their European counterparts. Of chief concern was England's ability to compete with the finest French artists, a point that was only further heightened by the continual wars within Europe. In part, this movement prompted the widespread proliferation of the most notable English artists across many domains, William Shakespeare being no exception. The consumption of Shakespearian productions was all the rage in the 18th and 19th centuries, which is evident in the sheer amount of controversy surrounding his work. I discovered one such fascinating story about a series of forged letters and unpublished plays while researching a new addition to my wife’s collection of Shakespeare books. Written by George Chalmers and published in 1797, the book entitled "An Apology for The Believers in the Shakespeare Papers" deals a devastating blow to the credibility of the forged documents. The copy in our library was presented to Sir Stephen Cottrell and inscribed by the author. Although this is a very interesting story on its own, it is tangent to the current topic, so I digress. On any note, contemporary society placed a high value on art, most notably that of historical painting, and that paired with the prolific consumption of all things, Shakespeare created the perfect opportunity for Boydell.
    Being the opportunistic businessman that he was, Boydell embarked upon the construction of a gallery depicting scenes from the most famous Shakespeare plays. In doing so, he could bolster his reputation as a patron of the arts while also triggering a sense of national pride on behalf of his customers by devoting his efforts to reinvigorate the practice of historical art. As argued by Friedman (1973), Boydell had the perfect trifecta of momentum that almost all but guaranteed the early success of his Shakespeare Gallery. The general idea was easy enough to envision. Boydell would commission some of the most renowned and up-and-coming artists to paint scenes from Shakespeare's numerous works. These paintings would then be displayed in a dedicated gallery, which patrons could view upon paying an entrance fee of one shilling. The admission cost was low relative to that of the Royal Society and further catered to the needs of all patrons (Friedman, 1973). The Shakespeare Gallery was opened at Pall Mall in 1789. At its opening ceremony, the gallery contained a mere thirty-four paintings. By 1805 that number had grown to 167 unique works of art (Friedman, 1973). A buzz of excitement throughout London marked the early days of the Shakespeare Gallery at Pall Mall, and guests from across the continent soon came to marvel at the breadth of the talent on display. By all accounts, the gallery was a great success.
    To offset the high initial costs, Boydell and his partners devised a plan to produce prints of these paintings and sell them on a subscription basis. Those interested were given the option of either purchasing the larger format prints or the same images in a smaller format. The former would cost the subscriber 2 Guineas initially, with another Guinea due upon delivery. The latter would only cost 1 Guinea upfront, with another due upon delivery. In both instances, the initial subscription cost only afforded the subscriber one volume of prints of the nine that were proposed. Although the business idea was simple enough, in theory, the practical execution of the plan was far more complicated.
    One of the primary issues faced by Boydell and his partners was the rampant abandonment on behalf of their subscribers. The initial subscription fees were far from sufficient to offset the high costs of commissioning the artists. Without collecting the other half of the payment upon delivery and the initial fees for future subscriptions, the financial situation of the venture quickly became bleak. It appears several court proceedings were registered on behalf of Boydell to collect the money owed by his subscribers, the most notable of which was the case against Drummond, which resulted in Boydell's defeat (Friedman, 1973). The documents binding the patrons to their dues were far too disorganized and ambiguous, making them all but indefensible in court. From all contemporary documents that I have viewed, paired with the work of many others such as Freidman (1973), it appears the quality of the prints were far inferior to the expectations of the subscribers. This issue was further compounded when Boydell and his partners decided to alter the terms of the subscription in 1792. Before the changes, the prints were the same between the large and small format subscriptions, but the new approach altered this to give rise to two distinctly different versions. This new approach was wildly unpopular. Subsequently, the already dwindling number of subscribers was further reduced to nearly one-third of what it had initially been (Friedman, 1973). To reverse this seemingly evitable ruin of their business venture, they hatched the idea to issue medals to their loyal subscribers, but only to those who subscribed to the large format. As already noted in the introduction of this set, collecting medals and being a patron of the arts was all the fashion in contemporary society. More specifically, collecting Soho Mint products was a particularly tasteful pursuit. I imagine Boydell could think of few better ways to reinvigorate his subscribers than by commissioning a medal to be struck at the Soho Mint and exclusively available only to his current subscribers.
    Although the exclusivity of the medals paired with their production at the Soho Mint was a stroke of marketing genius, it proved too little too late. The subscriptions were the lifeblood of the Shakespeare Gallery, and their plummeting numbers paired with the international events that unfolded in this era eventually led to its demise. By December of 1803, Boydell had petitioned and successfully negotiated a special act of parliament granting him a lottery. In justifying his request, he argued the "unhappy revolution" (i.e., the French Revolution) destroyed any potential profit from the continent and that his fervor for supporting the artistic independence of England had made him blind to reality (Friedman, 1973). In other words, he had overestimated the profit to be made by foreign visitors, and his desire to build the Shakespeare Gallery fueled his decision to invest any profit into further commissions without setting money aside for himself. Luckily for the nearly bankrupt Boydell, the lottery was a great success. According to Freidman (1973), 22,000 tickets were sold, raising a sum of £45,000. The Shakespeare Gallery was dismantled upon the execution of the lottery held in late January of 1805. The paintings were given to the lottery winners, and unfortunately, it appears many of them have since disappeared. Although the Shakespeare Gallery met a painful end, it has captured the attention of countless modern scholars. Thanks to their efforts, we can now enjoy a virtual tour of what the Shakespeare Gallery likely looked like (see the interesting links section below for more information).

    Obverse: The obverse design of this medal is rather striking. It depicts Shakespeare looking to the distance while resting upon a rock wearing a buttoned tunic with a decorated collar. His right arm is stiff against the rock, holding his weight up, and his right arm rests on the shoulder of the allegorical figure "Genius of Painting". His right leg is outstretched while his left leg is bent and partially obscured by his left leg. The rock rests upon a rectangular pedestal. Upon which is engraved in four lines, "HE WAS A MAN | TAKE HIM FOR ALL IN ALL | I SHALL NOT LOOK | UPON HIS LIKE AGAIN". The Dramatic Muse appears at the left of the rock with her gaze set on Shakespeare. A theatrical mask adorns her hair, which seems to be tied in a close-fitting knot. Her left arm is outreached, holding a laurel wreath. A four-stringed Greek lyre rests between her chest and her left arm. Her right arm is outstretched with her hand open toward Shakespeare. A loose scarf runs from her left shoulder meets her figure at her lower back, flowing freely in front of her before lopping back behind her. She wears a clinging dress with her right shoulder exposed. Her left foot is back with her toes resting on the foreground. Her right foot is slightly forward and flat, bearing her weight. Her dress is long and freely flows to the floor in the space between her feet. On the right, the Genius of Painting is depicted looking to the right. Her right arm is outstretched with an open hand pointing to Shakespeare. Her left hand is down and bent in front of her holding a paint palette with several noticeable globs of paint. Her left shoulder and both breasts are exposed, but her dress is draped over and pinned by her right arm. The dress extends to the floor, but her outward extended left leg is exposed from the knee down. Her right leg is bent behind her and rests on her toes. Her dress piles behind her and to the left of her right foot. This entire design seemingly rests upon a stage detailed with vertical hatch markings. A small area devoid of detail occurs between two raised lines. Immediately below, a larger void area occurs in the shape of a semicircular protractor. The outer portion of this shape is blank, with the engraving "M·B. Soho occurring on the top left and "C·H·KUCHLER. F." occurs at the right. The usually hollow portion of the protractor shape is adorned with the same vertical hatch markings described earlier. All of this is contained within a very thin raised circular line and a relatively thick beveled rim.
    Reverse: A scroll appears at the top under a tipped over four-string Greek Lyre pierced by a laurel branch. Several raised lines radiate from this design. The legend "THIS | MEDAL | REPRESENTING SHAKSPEARE BETWEEN | THE DRAMATICK MUSE AND THE GENUIS OF PAINTING | IS RESPECTFULLY PRESENTED TO | THE PERSON| WHOSE NAME IT BEARS | IN GRATEFUL COMMEMORATION OF THE GENEROUS SUPPORT | GIVEN BY THE SUBSCRIBERS | TO THE GREAT NATIONAL EDITION OF THAT | IMMORTAL POET | BY | I. I. & J. N. BOYDELL. | AND | G. & W. NICOL. | 1803.". All of this is contained within a very thin raised circular line and a relatively thick beveled rim. The reverse has some pleasant pastel toning.
    Edge: This example has a plain edge, but often these are encountered with an engraved edge with the recipient's name (i.e., the subscriber). Boydell wanted these medals to be large, but he was also concerned with the cost. The edge engraving required a decent thickness, which translated to an increase in the cost.
    Size: 48mm
    Notes: This particular example has retained its original shells and was purchased from my good friend William (Bill) McKivor in 2020 before he passed away. This medal has a special place within this collection, as it brings back fond memories of our conversation. Bill and I were discussing ways to intrigue my better half in my numismatic pursuits. In passing, I mentioned that she greatly enjoys Shakespeare. Over the years, I made it a tradition to pick up antique copies of his works whenever I traveled without her to academic conferences. Her small but growing (albeit not lately due to the pandemic) collection of leather-bound books on the subject were a point of exception to her immunity from the collecting bug. Bill and I laughed while determining if it truly counted as I was the only one adding to the collection. As our conversations often did, that turned into us discussing the Soho Mint. At the time, I had just started exploring the Soho Mint medals, and I had no idea that it existed. Bill joked that perhaps this would be a shiny piece of metal that my wife and I could mutually enjoy, given the topic. I was happy to report to Bill that my wife had given the nod of approval and seemed to enjoy looking at the medal. I suppose I lost her in the details when I started to explain why it came about, but it was interesting to see her attention captured by it. Bill also seemed to get a chuckle out of this, suggesting a Shakespeare collection of tokens and medals. Of course, in his usual way, he was forthcoming with what he knew and named off a dozen or so pieces that could be included in the proposed set. Bill could carry on a good conversation about almost any topic. Beyond the fond memories, the piece is one of my favorites because of its impressive presentation made possible by the simple yet elegant design and the relatively large size. To date, it is also the only silver medal in this collection. For those interested in pursuing Soho Medals, I recommend trying to find an example of this type. It appears these medals come up for sale rather often but frequently have not retained their original shells.
    References:
    Friedman, W. H. (1973). Some Commercial Aspects of the Boydell Shakespeare Gallery. Journal of the Warburg and Courtland Institutes, 36, 396-401.
    Pollard, J. G. (1970). Matthew Boulton and Conrad Heinrich Küchler. The Numismatic Chronicle, 10, 259-318.
    Tungate, S. (2020) Matthew Boulton and The Soho Mint: copper to customer. Worcestershire: Brewin Books.
    Interesting links:
    https://www.bl.uk/shakespeare/articles/john-boydells-shakespeare-gallery-1789-1805
    http://www.whatjanesaw.org/1796/rooms.php?location=NRNE#wjs
     
     
  22. coinsandmedals
    Here is another sneak peek of a new NGC custom registry set that I am working on. Please feel free to share anything related!
    This is one of the more interesting medals in my collection. In my opinion, the medal itself is rather attractive, and the reverse design is nothing short of stunning when considering the immense amount of detail throughout. As is usually the case, the historical context that gave rise to its existence also makes for a great story, but unlike the other pieces I have shared thus far, this medal purportedly has a link back to the 5th U.S. Mint Director, Dr. Samuel Moore.
    Contemporary records indicate that Küchler started working on the dies by March 1st, 1793, as he explicitly says so in a letter to Boulton (Pollard, 1970). From this letter, we can be sure the bust of King Gustav III was engraved using a likeness of his majesty painted by Mr. Carl von Breda as a model. We learn from subsequent letters that Küchler consulted Breda to improve his engraving after Boulton received some feedback from several Swedish visitors. All of which commented on the quality of the work but agreed that it was not a good likeness of the deceased King. The legend also proved difficult, as neither Boulton nor Küchler were adequately acquainted with Gustav III to suggest an appropriate inscription. Boulton suggested that Küchler consult Mr. Planta of the British Museum, which seemingly did the trick. According to Pollard (1970), the dies seem to have been completed by October 7th, 1793, as this is the date reported by Küchler in an invoice dated January 21st, 1796. A total of 423 of these medals were struck, in mostly bronzed copper, but it appears that several tin examples may also exist (Pollard, 1970; Tungate, 2010). It is interesting to note that the dies and collar for this medal appeared as lot 210 when the contents, machinery, and other articles of the Soho Mint were auctioned off on April 30th, 1850. If these dies were to be released into the hands of the general public, restrikes might exist. Although it is more likely that the campaign launched by Matthew Piers Watt Boulton to sabotage the sale of dies prevented this from occurring (Vice, 1995). To any extent, restrikes in the typical sense (i.e., medals struck after the demise of the Soho Mint) are not known to me.

    Historical Context:
    The assassination of Gustav III of Sweden is a somewhat bewildering story full of deception, toxic egos, and controversy. Even the details surrounding the events that transpired are shrouded in mystery, which for a good number of years afforded a false narrative published by Sierakowski in 1797 to be accepted as truth. At least in part, it appears the truth was not fully discovered until the late 19th century (Bain, 1887). This is the story that I have decided to reiterate here, but for those interested, I encourage you to read the sources I cite for yourself as they can tell a far more interesting story than I can.
    The assassination of King Gustav III of Sweden was hatched by three men and supported by countless others. The main conspirator, Jakob Johan Anckarströn, was a fanatic hell-bent on the King's demise and had on several occasions stalked him armed and ready to act. Although his initial plans never progressed beyond intent, he now found strength in his two new partners, Count Clas Frederik Horn, and Count A. L. Ribbing. According to Bain (1887), an extensive network of conspiracy cast much doubt on the validity of perceived threats to the King's life and left those investigating none the wiser to the seriousness of the claims. In other words, the large degree of misinformation set a perfect smoke-filled stage to carry out the nefarious operations of those who wished to rid the country of Gustav III. The principal of which was General Pechin, who used his considerable influence to disguise his intentions and his fellow conspirators, which by this time involved over half of the aristocracy. As noted by Bain (1887), nothing happened within the confines of the conspiracy without his involvement, but in this instance, he is not the man who pulled the trigger, but more so the man that allowed it to happen.
    It appears the plan between the three main conspirators was to attack the King at a masquerade. Bain (1887) notes that plots were made for the March 2nd and 6th masquerades, but both were abandoned. The last masquerade of the season was to take place on the 16th, making it the last assassination attempt that could be carried out. Evidently, they were less than secretive and voiced their intentions to numerous perceived allies. Their indiscretion added a new level of urgency to the situation, as waiting until the next season would likely end in their discovery and subsequent death. As such, the men fortified their plan, determined against all odds to carry it out. Ribbing went to discuss the matter with Pechin, who arranged for the masquerade to be packed with co-conspirators, thus avoiding the issue that prevented the March 2nd plot (i.e., there were not enough people to reasonably curtail suspicion). The most prominent of which were Johan Engeström, Major Hartmannsdorf, and Captain Pontus Lilliehorn. According to Bain (1887), Anckarströn was so excited for the upcoming slaughter that he spent his time before the masquerade preparing his weapons.
    "He loaded each of his pistols with two bullets and fourteen pieces of lead of various shapes and sizes, and filed the blade of the huge butcher's knife with which he intended to complete his crime to a razor like sharpness, besides carefully barbing the point."
    The men were intent upon assassinating the King, and at 12:30, they, as well as their fellow conspirators, went to the masquerade dressed in what Bain (1887) describes as black dominoes with white masks.
                Before the masquerade, the King was lounging in his private room when he received a letter hurriedly written in pencil. If Bain's (1878) account is correct, the King read the letter twice before dismissing all but Baron Essen, his chief equerry, from the room. The letter was a warning, supposedly from a stranger, informing the King that an attempt would be made on his life that night. Much speculation exists about the contents of the letter as it was not saved, but the King informed Essen of the situation. Dismissing Essen's concerns, the King was determined to attend the masquerade but decided to spend at least fifteen minutes in his private box quietly observing the crowd before joining his guests. Purportedly, the King looked to Essen and said:
    "They have lost a good opportunity of shooting me. Come, let us go down; the masquerade seems bright and gay. Let us see if they will dare to kill me!".
    This incredibly bold, if not entirely arrogant, decision ultimately led to his attack. The King, escorted by Essen, progressed through the crowd. His mask barely covered his face, and the decorations on his chest made him very easy to spot. It was not long until assassins surrounded him in their white masks and black dominoes. According to Bain (1887), a male voice said "Bonjour, beau masque", which I deduct was spoken by Count Clas Frederik Horn. Apparently, he had arranged for this to be the code word for Anckarströn to draw his weapon and shoot the King. Without hesitation, Anckarströn fired his weapon into the King's back. According to Anckarströn, the King did not fall when shot, and this shock provoked him to drop his weapons and disperse into the crowd. By this time, Gustaf Löwenhjelm, the Captain of the King's Watch and close companion of the King, noticed the incident. Going to investigate, he found the King surrounded by Black Dominoes, who were quick to disperse once Essen proclaimed, "Some villain has shot the King!". Surprised, Löwenhjelm drew his sword and, with the help of a guard, cleared an area around the King, who was still standing with the support of Essen's arm.
    Alarmed by the sudden realization that they needed to escape, the assassins enacted the next part of their plan and screamed "Fire" to create confusion. Unfortunately for them, Captain Pollet ordered the doors sealed, and the area inspected. The wounded King was then moved back to his private room, where he instructed Löwenhjelm that the assassin was to be caught but not harmed and report to anyone who asked that his wound was nothing more than a scratch (Bain, 1887). Löwenhjelm immediately jumped to action and ordered all gates to Stockholm closed until further notice.  During the commotion, Ribbing supposedly approached Löwenhjelm and asked about the King. When informed that it was merely a scratch, he purportedly exclaimed, "Thank God!". The King wounded and bleeding as he rested in his private room still received numerous visitors, including his brother, Duke Charles. It is here that he expressed his displeasure with the recent set of events, exclaiming:
    "How unfortunate that, after having braved in warfare the fire of the enemy, I should have been wounded in the back in the midst of my own people."
    Despite his displeasure, Bain (1887) notes that the King kept his composure and at times consoled visitors distraught by his current condition. For instance, when Gustaf Maurits Armfelt began to cry in despair, the King supposedly told him:
    "Be a man, Armfelt! You know from personal experience that wounds can heal!"
    All of the commotion was eventually settled, and the Minister of Police, Liljensparre, actively recorded the names of every guest as they filed out of the main room two at a time. Horn had already escaped by this point, and the others were allowed to leave without suspicion. According to Bain (1887), Anckarströn, on the other hand, suffered a different fate. By his account, Anckarströn was the last to leave and remarked to Liljensparre, "You won't suspect me, I hope!", to which Liljensparre responded, "Why you more than others?". I can only imagine how awkward that exchange must have been between the two, and even more awkward when Liljensparre came to arrest him soon after. Anckarströn had dropped his weapons after the first shot, which were soon identified as belonging to him. This was more than sufficient evidence for his arrest. As it turns out, the mysterious note warning the King was written by Lilliehorn, who was overcome with a sudden bout of conscientiousness. He passed the note to a baker boy who then passed it up the chain of command and into the King's hands. This witness trail led investigators back to him, and he was soon arrested. Likewise, Pechin and Ribbing were also arrested.
    Liljensparre wasted no time in his investigation, and through cross-examination, he received the names of more than a hundred accomplices from Ribbing and Horn (Bain, 1887). The two alone had implicated over half of the nobility, but their word likely had little value. A postbag marked from March 16th was later retrieved with letters addressed to many of the nobility. The letter was short and read, "A minuit il ne sera plus; arrangez-vous sur cela" (At midnight, he will be gone; arrange on this). The nobility, suddenly concerned for their safety, tried to make peace with the injured King. To quell the political and social unease of the country, the Council of Regency ordered that no further arrests should be made. There is no telling how widespread Liljensparre's investigation would have become if the council did not muzzle him; however, it appears the King wanted the investigation to end as well.
    By now, the King was well aware of the massive plot against his life, the numerous planned attempts made, and the widespread deceit that ran rampant throughout the nobility. Surprisingly, he urged for peace instead of vengeance. He stated that he wanted tranquility if he were to survive and if he were to die, that the past be forgotten to keep the peace. He urged his brother to conceal the names of those involved (Bain, 1887). More specifically, he justified his request to his brother as it related to the young crowned prince:
    "As destined to rule this people, I do not wish the seeds of hatred and vengeance to be sown in his youthful mind"
    I can only assume that he wished to restore peace to his kingdom and stabilize what might have otherwise been an unsafe environment for his son. Eventually, the King did succumb to his wounds. The doctors were only able to remove a single nail, and it appears extensive damage was done to his liver, kidneys, and spine. Even on his death bed, the King pleaded for peace and commanded that his brother not seek to hold all members of the nobility accountable. He passed away at 10:55 AM on March 29th, 1792.
    Upon his death, his brother honored his final wish. He focused his wrath primarily upon the man who pulled the trigger, Anckarströn. For his crime, he was forced to stand for three days straight in the pillory, publicly lashed, his right hand was chopped off, followed by his head, and then he was quartered. Anckarströn's punishment was most severe, followed by that of Baron Bjelke. He had committed suicide by poisoning before Liljensparre arrested him, but his body was hung at the scaffold before being buried below it (Bain, 1887). Pechin died in confinement four years after the King was assassinated. Ribbing, Horn, Engeström, Ehrensvärd, and Lilliehorn were all banished from the kingdom.

    Obverse: The obverse depicts the bust of King Gustav III facing right. He is dressed in armor, with ornate detail surrounding the rivets just around the collar, across the peripheral of the breastplate, and the junction between his right shoulder and chest. Tufts of loose fabric can be seen protruding out beneath the armor around his neck and right shoulder. Three large rivets appear to secure the breastplate with the side of his armor. His bust is draped with a fur-lined fleece, clasped on his right breast by an oval clip. A piece of freely flowing cloth appears between the armor and the fleece covering most of the left side of his chest. A large but indistinguishable badge appears on the upper right-hand side portion of his chest. Another decoration appears below his bust, protruding into the rim and bisecting the engravers mark, which reads "C·H·KÜCHLER" on one side and "FEC·" on the other. The King's hair comes to a neatly formed mass at the top of his forehead, tightly secured behind his head by a ribbon wrapped around twice to form a tie. The tie has two bows and seemingly one loose end. The loose hair protruding from this tie falls below his neck ending in large, tightly wrapped curls that rest behind his right shoulder. The furthest of which nearly touches the rim. A series of relatively large curls appear above his ear in two rows. An interesting die crack originates at his right shoulder, protruding through the curls above his ear and bisecting another die crack at the top of his head. A similar but unconnected die crack protrudes from the uppermost curl above his ear, across the forehead, and dissipates into the detail of his hair just above his forehead. The legend "GUSTAVUS III · D : G · REX SVECIAE" appears wrapped around the inner part of the rim above the bust. All of which is contained within an inner circle surrounded by a moderately wide rim.
    Reverse: The reverse design of this medal is intense, with so many fine details, which I would struggle to describe accurately. I opted to provide a general sense of the design, highlighting the most crucial parts. At the center is a tomb, on which the assassination is depicted on the outfacing panel. The scene shows the King walking, with a man close behind firing a pistol while others observe. Immediately below is a ribbon with the legend "HEU MALE PEREMPTUS". Resting upon and behind the tomb are a host of armaments and allegorical symbols, with a crowned urn front and center. Immediately above the crowned urn is a series of rays, as the sun is often depicted, but in this instance, thirteen stars formed together in an oval make up the center of the rays. On the left of the tomb is a putto standing on a partially concealed cannon and pointing toward the scene on the panel. An intricate scene of armaments, banners, tools and allegorical symbols appear in the background behind him. To the right of the tomb is the allegorical figure of fame, with an outstretched arm holding a wreath toward the rays. A pillar appears to her left, behind which appears a closed book, a cartouche, and an open bag spilling the contents of money onto the foreground. Upon the exergual line appears "C·H·K . FEC". In exergue, a legend separated into four lines appears. "NATUS D · XXIIII JAN · MDCCXXXXVI. SUCC · D · XII FEB · MDCCLXXI. TRUCID : D · XVI MART · MDCCXCII. OB · D · XXIX SUP · MENS · ET AN.".  The main legend is divided between the rays around the primary devices and reads "TAM MARTE" on one side and "QUAM MERCURIO." on the other. All of which is contained within an inner circle surrounded by a moderately wide rim.
    Edge: Plain
    Size: 56mm
    Notes: I find the design of this medal to be very intriguing, and the high relief makes this piece really pop in hand. The fact that this medal has retained the silver-lined brass shells over the last two centuries further attests to its originality. Beyond these characteristics, this piece came with an interesting note, which appears to have been written by Nelson Thorson, the 19th president of the ANA and an avid collector of Swedish medals. The note reads, "One of a number of medals sent by Mr. Bolton, President of the English Mint to Dr. Samuel Moore, President of the United States Mint in return for a collection of American coin and medals sent by Dr. Moore to Mr. Bolton". A quick google search revealed that Dr. Samuel Moore was the 5th U.S. Mint Director and served between 1824 and 1835. Matthew Boulton passed away in 1809, meaning the Boulton referenced in the letter must be Matthew Robinson Boulton. Given the research I have done on the silver-lined brass shells produced at the Soho Mint, this period would make sense for the medal to be paired with the shells. None of this was mentioned to me when I purchased the item, so the extra details were a complete surprise. Excited, I took what I thought to be the next logical step. I went to the archives to find anything that would corroborate the details of the note.
    Initially, I struggled to find anything remotely useful, but I reached out to Roger Burdette, who was kind enough to guide me where I needed to look. Thanks to Doty (1998), I knew that Dr. Moore was in communication with Matthew Robinson Boulton about the bronzing process used on medals at the Soho Mint in mid-February of 1825 (MBP245, Letter Box M2: Samuel Moore to Matthew Robinson Boulton, February 16th, 1825). Looking over the Boulton correspondence uploaded to NNP, I could not locate any mention of this, meaning that additional documents must exist that are not included in those files. The first bit of correspondence from Dr. Moore to Boulton was dated 1829, so there was a substantial gap in the documentation that spanned several years. Roger suggested several other sources to check that had been processed and uploaded to NNP, and it is here that I finally had some luck!
    I decided to start by finding a copy of the correspondence discussing the bronzing process used at Soho. Given that this process, as discussed by Doty (1998), was centered on the production of medals, it seemed logical that the trade mentioned in the note may have organically come up during those conversations. Sure enough, I located a letter dated June 18th, 1825, in which Dr. Moore agrees to accept Matthew Boulton's offer to send him a small packet of bronzing powder for their experimentation. It appears the bronzing powder arrived at the Philadelphia Mint on either August 24th or September 23rd, as detailed in a letter from Dr. Moore to Boulton dated November 19th, 1825. The first bit of the letter acknowledges and thanks Boulton for his favors and the specimens of bronze powder. The letter discusses an experiment the two were conducting as it relates to the shipping of copper planchets (this will be an interesting story for another day), but of most interest to the current topic is the final paragraph.
    "I beg leave to prepare a request from Mr. Eckfeldt, Chief Coiner of the Mint to be favored with a few medals in copper if you have impressions in any size of any that you could conveniently part with. He had the pleasure once to receive from your Father a medal of himself finely executed, together with some beautiful specimens of copper coins. I communicate his wish the more freely because I am sure that were he known to you, you would greatly esteem hm, and that he will [do] whatever in his power with much pleasure reciprocate this attention."
     At first, I could not read this entire portion of the letter as the original scans of the document were less than ideal, but once again, Roger was kind enough to help. From this letter, it is clear that some form of trade was proposed, but I did not have enough evidence to suggest that it occurred. I continued my search, and I found another letter dated May 22nd, 1826, in which Dr. Moore goes into detail thanking Boulton for the medals he received. In this letter, he wrote:
    "The medals which you were so obliging as to forward were received in perfect order, and present many interesting and pleasing specimens of this method of recording public events and perpetuating the likeness of eminent men. That of your most estimable Father is particularly admired by all who view it. His name has long been familiar here, and numbered among those who have been distinguished as the benefactor of Mankind. Accept sir, from Mr. Eckfeldt and myself, our cordial acknowledgement for this attention, and do us the favor to transmit by the first convenient opportunity, a special amount of xxx xxx incident to the forwarding of those packages."
    It is far from an itemized list of the medals received, but it alludes to public events and eminent men. The assassination of Gustav III falls under both categories. It is interesting to note that I have been unable to locate digital scans of the correspondence sent by Boulton to Dr. Moore. I know that this correspondence likely survived. If not in the U.S. Archives, it would have been persevered in the archives held in Birmingham. I am actively pursuing this, and I hope to locate Boulton's side of the correspondence to fill in a few gaps. It is also worthy to note that the record books at Soho were meticulously kept, so it remains possible that an itemized list of the medals sent was recorded. Perhaps just as intriguing is the possibility that Boulton may have written back to Dr. Moore thanking him for the pieces he received from Philadelphia. If I can locate this tidbit of information, it would fully support the notion that a trade between the two took place. Although this is pure speculation, this trade might help make sense of why several high-end early U.S. coins appeared in the auction of Matthew Piers Watt Boulton's collection (the grandson of Matthew Boulton) conducted by Sotheby, Wilkinson, & Hodge of London in 1912 (Lots 50-56). It would be fascinating if these pieces could all be linked together, but for now, I plan to keep searching for clues and update this section as new information is available. 
    References:
    Bain, R. N. (1887). The Assassination of Gustavus III of Sweden. The English Historical Review, 2(7), 543-552.
    Doty, R. (1998). The Soho Mint and the Industrialization of Money. London: National Museum of American History Smithsonian Institution.
    Pollard, J. G. (1970). Matthew Boulton and Conrad Heinrich Küchler. The Numismatic Chronicle, 10, 259-318.
    Tungate, S. (2010) Matthew Boulton and The Soho Mint: copper to customer (Doctoral Dissertation). Retrieved from ProQuest Dissertations & Theses A&I.
    Tungate, S. (2020) Matthew Boulton and The Soho Mint: copper to customer. Worcestershire: Brewin Books.
    Vice, D. (1995). A fresh insight into Soho Mint restrikes & those responsible for their manufacture. Format Coins, Birmingham, 3-14.
    Interesting links:
    http://www.unofficialroyalty.com/assassination-of-gustav-iii-king-of-sweden-1792/
    https://artsandculture.google.com/exhibit/that-fatal-shot-the-royal-armoury-sweden/SwISevye_fzGJQ?hl=en
  23. coinsandmedals

    My 2021 numismatic journey
    Recap: I submitted a very complex order to NGC that spanned six invoices and several special requests. You can read about it here.
    Much to my surprise, the world economy submission is already on its way back to me, but this was not by design. When I submitted these coins, I requested combined shipping to save on the return shipping charge. For whatever reason, NGC accidentally mailed out the world economy submission on 11-19.  I didn’t notice until I received the shipment notification from NGC later that night. I finally got a chance to call earlier today, but the coins were already on their way back to me. In line with my prior experiences with NGC, they readily acknowledged the error and offered a full credit for the shipping charge. It was nice to see that they are still very customer-friendly despite their massive backlog and continuous staffing shortages. Many, myself included, assumed that the longer turnaround times for the economy tier would delay my other submissions, so this was a big surprise.
    The posted pictures are not my best work. My normal setup was out of commission when I first took these so I had to do the best I could with what I had at the time. I plan to take new images with my typical setup once they arrive back from NGC.
     
    1.      
    Description: Uniface die trial of the 1811 Bank of England Dollar
    My grade: XF – Detail
    NGC grade: Ineligible type
    Comment: This one caught me off guard as this is a well-documented piece described and cataloged in no less than four internationally recognized authoritative guides. After discussing this with the customer service representative earlier today, I plan to write a brief email providing documentation for the piece and making my case that it should fall within the purview of the items they grade. I have been somewhat successful with similar requests in the past, so maybe this will eventually end up in a slab.
    2.      
    Description: 1753 Great Britain ½ Penny
    My grade: AU-55 BN
    NGC grade: AU-58 BN
    Comment: I am not surprised by the grade this coin received. The pictures make it look dull, but in hand, it retains a good amount of luster.
    3.      
    Description: 1754 Great Britain Farthing
    My grade: MS-64 BN
    NGC grade: MS-63 BN
    Comment: I am happy with this coin in an MS-63 holder. I am excited to get it back in hand to see what I might have missed during my initial inspection. Fun fact, a number of these pieces dated 1754 and depicting George II were actually struck in 1762 and 1763 under the reign of George III. This lackluster attempt to address the small change shortage of the era further highlights how disinterested the crown was in helping the average citizen.
    4.      
    Description: 1917 Costa Rica 10 Centavos  
    My grade: MS-63 PL
    Result: MS-64
    Comment: I am happy with the numerical grade, but the lack of a PL designation is disappointing. I have images of this coin, but they all fail to capture how it looks in hand. The devices are slightly frosted, but the fields are fully reflective. At first glance it looks like a proof, but from my research, it doesn’t appear proof strikes were ever recorded for this coin in silver. On any note, it is an interesting coin that will soon find a new home. 
  24. coinsandmedals
    So much to collect!
    I have been collecting now for roughly 13 years but I have only been collecting seriously for about 6 or so years. I have a large amount on quality coins that need to be certified to help preserve them, and make it possible to better share my collection with others but it seems that every time I set aside the coins that are next for submission I get sidetracked by another coin and there goes my submission budget! I was wondering if this is a common occurrence with some of the other members here. I also find myself distracted by other series of coins, I collect so many different types of coins that it seems at times a bit too extensive. Don't get me wrong I love the hobby and I'm glad it is so diverse, I just wish my budget would expand as much as my collecting aspirations! What are some of your points of view, what do you do to focus on the collections that mean the most to you and when do you decide to pursue other types of coins? Below is a picture of one coin that expanded my collecting focus a bit further, its on its way back from NGC cert# 2613701-001

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