Corset-Huset Tokens
Above is a fascinating token made in Denmark to activate automatic doors on a tavern washroom (Brunk C-944, Polettes & Pengetegn bind 2 nr. 4706). It has been noted that "the word closet [used in DK for WC] was in many eyes too vulgar [and thus] was rewritten as corset," thus giving us the punch "CORSET-HUSET." With an automatic mechanism, paying customers of a restaurant or tavern could be supplied with a token enabling them to use the facilities, thus preventing 'freeloaders' from making use of the washrooms.
The mechanisms which were operated by these tokens were manufactured by the bicycle firm B. Ketner, which is still operating today in the city of Frederiksberg. As Ketner needed to calibrate the machine to accept a specific proof of permission to use the washroom, but could not by law deface domestic Danish coinage, Swedish and Norwegian coppers were countermarked with either the name of the purchasing firm or the generic "CORSET-HUSET." Swedish 5 Ore coins dating from the years 1875, 1876, 1878, 1896, 1899 have been observed bearing this counterstamp. All in all, a charming piece of social history!
The Curious Story of the United States Manila Mint Medal
The Spanish suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of combined insurgent and American regular forces in the Spanish-American War (1898), one which would result in Spain ceding many of the remnants of its colonial empire to the United States. One such territory was the Philippine island group, where an insurgent movement turned against its former American allies, and continued waging guerilla warfare until 1901.
Following the capture of insurgent leader Emilio Aguinaldo, the socio-political situation on the islands began to settle down, and so the American administration began to turn its attention to building state structures, with a view to eventually granting independence. One of the institutions necessary for an independent Philippine state would be a mint to enable the tangible implementation of fiscal policy, and so in 1902, a bill was signed by President Theodore Roosevelt authorizing distinct coinage to be struck for use on the islands. The legislation further specified that the coins should be struck at Manila if possible, or barring this, in U.S. mints.
By 1903, production of new specie became a progressively more critical issue, as the last Spanish issues in the territory were made in 1898 – and even these were made in quantities notorious for not even satisfying local demand. In light of the mounting problem, the decision was taken to mint Philippines coinage at the San Francisco and Philadelphia mints, as it was deemed unfeasible to set up a proper minting facility in Manila in time to meet demand. That year, coins designed by Filipino sculptor Melecio Figueroa went into production.
This practice continued until 1918, when the Philippine legislature passed a bill allocating 100,000 pesos to acquire machinery built in Philadelphia for a new mint. Clifford Hewitt, then chief engineer of the United States mint designed and constructed the hardware, and it was shipped via the Panama Canal to Manila. In November 1919, Hewitt oversaw the installation of the machinery and trained the Filipino employees of the mint. On July 15, 1920, the only US mint established outside of the continental United States was opened.
This event gave birth to a series of unusual and interesting medals designed by Hewitt (shown above), and struck in bronze (mintage 2,200), silver (mintage 3,700), and gold (mintage of 5 pieces). To American numismatists, these pieces are referred to as the “So-Called Wilson Dollars,” but despite being similar in size and weight to a contemporary US dollar, the silver specimens served no monetary purpose – they were retailed for $1.50. The obverse is emblazoned with a portrait of U.S. President Woodrow Wilson, and the reverse depicts Juno Moneta (goddess of money and minting) kneeling and watching over a nude youth who is pouring planchets into a press.
The medals were still available for sale as late as the mid-1930s (the bronze variant had sold particularly poorly), with remaining stocks being stored in the Philippines Treasury. With the Japanese capture of Manila imminent, the remaining treasury deposits (17 million Pesos in silver) as well as all remaining mint medals, were first moved to Corregidor, and then dumped in the city’s harbor so as to make recovery by the invading forces more difficult. This has resulted in a fair number of ‘shipwreck effect’ examples being offered on the market – most of which were recovered between 1945-7 by both the US navy and private contractors.
All in all, today these fascinating medals represent a window into an interesting chapter of both Filipino and American history – perhaps the reason that they are so sought after today.
29/03/2020
On Rememberances; The True Value of Republican Coinage
Recently, when reading the account of a Frenchman’s experience of the defeat of his nation in the Franco-Prussian War, I came across this passage:
“Monday, 31 July [1871]. In London since this morning. Upon reaching Folkestone, I had changed a hundred franc bill into English money. I still had about two hundred francs in French coins. In order not to confuse myself, I put the English money in the left pocket of my vest, and the French money in the right pocket.
Back in the hotel that evening, I pulled from my pockets the two handfuls of coins. I made two small piles of them on the fireplace. Then I began to pay attention to the two small piles and discovered a very interesting and instructive spectacle. First, I arranged all of my english pieces face up and by order of date: 1837, 1841, 1843, 1851, 1857, 1863, 1870; and on all these pieces, I see the same inscription: Victoria dei Gratia surrounding the same young girl’s profile. Victoria, Victoria. Everywhere and always Victoria, Victoria.
Same chronological classification for the small pile of French coins, and under my eyes I see march past: Bonaparte, first consul; Napoleon, Emperor; Louis XVIII, King of France; Charles X, king of France; Louis-Philippe I, king of the French; a very beautiful, much too beautiful woman representing our second Republic; Napoleon III, emperor, without a laurel crown; Napoleon III, emperor with a laurel crown. There I came to a stop, our third Republic not yet having had the time to strike coins.
Never have I understood better why we have just lost Alsace and Lorraine.”
-Halévy, Ludovic, trans Roger L. Willaims. Notes and Remembrances, 1871-1872. Newark, DE. University of Delaware Press, 2009. p. 96-7.
This passage, other than being a telling reflection on the French psyche following their humiliating defeat at the hands of their most bitter rivals, reflects a fascinating caveat which may be considered as one of French numismatics’ greatest assets – namely, the fact that French coinage so closely followed political realities. As is evident in the visceral tone with which the author speaks about Ceres on the coinage of the Second French Republic, the French population responded fairly substantially to imagery, making circulating specie one of the most powerful political tools to be found in the Gallic lands.
Moving further back chronologically from the scope of this anecdote, the changes seen in the coinage of the French revolution illustrates the responsive rapidity with which symbols were appropriated and discarded – from Louis XVI King of France, to King of the French, to on par with the Law, to constitutional monarch, to completely supplanted. Those familiar with the pretender coinage of the 1830s will also understand how important the striking of coin was to notions of both sovereignty and legitimacy, as Henry V of the ousted Bourbon dynasty struggled to regain power.
Importantly, this excerpt sheds light on a question that many French numismatists (myself included) must ponder – namely, what was the circulation mix with so many different designs of coinage? The simple answer seems to be that the mix went relatively undisturbed after the currency reforms instituted by Napoleon Bonaparte, as our commentator seems to have had a fairly complete run from that point on. What is more is that though successive regimes sought to build legitimacy with the introduction of new, propagandistic types, they don’t seemed to have engaged in iconoclasm, or actively removing the issues of previous regimes from circulation. This would in turn account for the large number of severely worn coins from the reigns of Napoleon Bonaparte and Louis-Philippe Bourbon in particular available today.
Interestingly, and perhaps as intentional narrative contrast, his British coin sample does not present any pieces extending before the reign of Victoria. I believe this to be an intentional manipulation of reality, a thought which is made all the more likely by the fact that there were no 1837-dated English coins which bore Victoria’s portrait ever issued. What is more is that in other accounts from the mid-to-late 19th century, note is made of the worn coinage of Victoria’s forefathers still being current, and indeed widely used.
Regardless of the narrative decisions made, these brief paragraphs scream volumes not only about the circulation mechanics of coinage, but what the symbols which circulated day to day actually meant to those who used them. In a way, it is not the statistical breakdown which matters in this instance, but rather that it is an account which brings the human element back into coins in a way which is rarely seen in the study of numismatics.
The Other ‘D’ Mint
For those unfamiliar, or only somewhat acquainted with United States coinage, it is likely that when confronted with a coin bearing a ‘D’ mint mark, the assumption will be made that the piece originates from the Denver mint. This is not necessarily so, as long before operations began in the now famous Colorado branch of the US Mint, the distinctive ‘D’ was used in Dahlonega, Georgia.
To understand why the federal government saw fit to open a mint in a place as seemingly obscure as Dahlonega, it is necessary to go back to 1828. In this year, prospectors discovered gold on what used to be land belonging to the Cherokee Nation, and it did not take long for news to spread. A gold rush took hold, and within a couple of years, over 300 ounces per day were being churned out by a patchwork of mining operations, ranging from very small to quite large. Seeking to monetise their finds, miners turned to a hodgepodge of refiners to first refine and then cast or strike the new gold, leading private minters such as Templeton Reid and the Bechtler family to in turn produce a multitude of coins and ingots.
Seeking to standardise the output, congress made a provision in the Mint Act of 1835 for the establishment of a mint “branch at or near Dahlonega, in Lumpkin County, in the state of Georgia, […] for the coinage of gold only.” In August of 1835, Ignatius Alphonso Few was appointed commissioner and quickly bought ten acres south of Dahlonega for $1,050. He hired the lowest bidding architect, Benjamin Towns to design and construct the edifice for $33,450 within eighteen months, a budget and deadline which were both met. In 1837, machinery, including “cutting presses, a fly wheel, a drawing frame, a crank shaft, a coining press, and eighteen annealing pans” were installed, providing a potential output of “fifty to sixty gold coins per minute.”
Following its opening in February 1838, around 1 000 ounces of gold were deposited within 7 days, and Superintendent Dr. Joseph Singleton oversaw the striking of 80, $5.00 gold pieces in April of that year. Known for poor quality of strike, the mint would go on to produce $1.00, $2.50, $3.00 and $5.00 coins in small numbers before being seized by confederate forces in 1861. The occupying forces would strike a further 1 597 1861-D half eagles before the reserves were exhausted and the mint shut. All in all, the Dahlonega mint churned out a little over $6 million in gold coin through its 23 years of operation.
Following the war, the federal government decided not to reopen the Dahlonega mint, and the ‘D’ mint mark would go unused for 45 years, that is until the opening of the Denver mint in 1906. Today, Dahlonega minted coins are scarce and sought after despite their general poor quality and frequent lack of eye appeal. This just goes to show that numismatics is about a lot more than some shiny baubles.