Papal Medals from their Beginnings until Pius IX: A Brief History

by Giancarlo Alteri

Pope Paul II Barbo (1417–1471) was the instigator of the papal medal. Keen to exploit the newly developed art form for commemorative purposes, he had nearly every event in his pontificate celebrated by a medal, from major construction projects, like the Venezia Palace, to important political and ecclesiastical events (fig. 1). He invited to Rome the Mantuan artist Cristoforo di Geremia (flourished between 1455 and 1476) and provided him with a foundry close to the construction site of the Venezia Palace, where he could cast medals to commemorate the building as it progressed (fig. 2). When the Pope decided
to start work erecting the new tribuna in Saint Peter’s, he ordered a medal with that subject as well (fig. 3). Sixtus IV della Rovere (1414–1484) also had a singular passion for medals. Indeed he engaged a number of exceptional artists, thereby enhancing the artistic level of the schola Romana, even though many of the names of these artists are unknown to us. Because of this attention, the papal medal made a qualitative leap under Sixtus, excelling especially in architectural subjects.

Lisippo the Younger, for example, the leading figure of the schola Romana, created a medal with the image of the Sistine Bridge (fig. 4), following the placement of the first stone in its renovation by the Pope himself (fig. 5). The sixteenth century began under the papal leadership of Julius II della Rovere (1443–1513), who started the reconstruction of Saint Peter’s Basilica. In the underground caverns of the new basilica, under the apse of
the church, Julius II placed the first stone of the reconstruction along with a vase containing twelve medals created by Cristoforo Foppa (“Caradosso”) (1452–1527) (fig. 6). Another artist, Gian Cristoforo Romano (c. 1460–1512) was commissioned by Julius to engrave dies for many medals celebrating other events of his pontificate, such as the construction of the Rocca Giulia in Civitavecchia, the Courthouse in Rome, and the ratification of the Peace of Blois.

Although unlucky in his pontificate, which witnessed the pillage of Rome in 1527 by the Landsknechts and was marked by European wars, Clement VII (1478– 1534) had luck in finding great engravers such as Vittore Gambello (1455–c. 1537), Valerio Belli (1468–1546), Giovanni Bernardi (1496–1553) and, above all, Benvenuto Cellini (1500–1570) to execute his medals. These artists created some of the finest medals of the sixteenth century, such as that made by Bernardi showing Joseph recognized by his brothers, clearly an allusion to the forgiveness granted by the Medici Pope to his fellow
citizens, who expelled the Medici family from Florence, or that of Cellini, with the representation of Moses causing water to spring from a rock, in remembrance of the Well of Saint Patrick in Orvieto (figs. 7–8).

The peak of artistic beauty in papal medals, however, was achieved during the reign of Paul III Farnese. Two exceptional artists of the burin, Gian Giacomo Bonzagni (1507–1565) and Alessandro Cesati (“Grechetto”) (1505–c. 1575), were appointed Chamber Engravers ad perpetuum. Cesati’s classicism is clear in some of his most famous medals such as that of the figure of Ganymede watering the lilies; in this representation, the figure of the youth kidnapped by Zeus, which foreshadows the work of Pier Luigi Farnese on the same topic, is absolute sculptural perfection worthy of Praxiteles (fig. 9).
Under the pontificate of Julius III, the Chamber Engravers were Gian Giacomo Bonzagni, his brother Gian Federico Bonzagni (1508–c.1588), and Alessandro Cesati, but it was during the reign of the rather strict Paul IV Carafa that the artistic decline of the papal medal began. The age of the Counter-Reformation had repercussions on the papal medal, restricting the subject matter to more focused religious topics. Moreover, under Pius IV there was a generational shift among the Chamber Engravers. Gian Giacomo Bonzagni died at the beginning of 1565 and in the same year Alessandro Cesati left Italy. Only Gian Federico Bonzagni and Giovanni Antonio de Rossi (c. 1515–1575) remained in Rome.

The artistic decline of the papal medal continued during the pontificate of Pius V Ghislieri (1504–1572). However, as a sworn enemy of the Turks, Pius was inspired by the victorious sea battle of Lepanto on October 7, 1571, and so put his engravers to the task of commemorating the event. Thus there was a short and ephemeral renewal of papal medallic art. The fight of the two fleets was all but photographed, detailed with absolute precision on a medal by Giovanni Antonio de Rossi, whereas Bonzagni transferred onto metal the pathos of the battle, underscored by the presence of the angel leading the Christian fleet against the Turkish armada (figs. 10–11).

Gian Federico Bonzagni created two masterpieces for Gregory XIII Boncompagni (1502–1585): a medal devoted to the massacre of the Huguenots (fig. 12) and another depicting the Pope opening the Holy Door (fig. 13). Meanwhile, an artist from Parma, Lorenzo Fragni (1548–1619), was appointed Chamber Engraver; although he was not a top tier artist, nevertheless he was very good on miniature details, as can be seen on a medal devoted to the Gregorian Chapel in Saint Peter’s (fig. 14). Sixtus V Peretti reformed the papal mint, replacing Fragni with Domenico Poggini (1520–1590). Suffering under a crippling disease, Poggini’s medals reflect his weariness. In the last years of his life, debilitated and unable to work, he left the practical activity of chamber engraving to the Roman brothers Niccolò (1555–1594) and Emilio de’ Bonis (c. 1560–after 1601). The brothers subsequently worked for Paul V Borghese (1552–1621), who embellished Rome with great architectural works, such as the façade of Saint Peter’s Basilica and the Pauline
Chapel in Santa Maria Maggiore. But above all he gave the city architecture of great urban utility, such as the renewed Pauline Aqueduct. These works all found a place on his medals (fig. 15).

In 1610, Giacomo Antonio Mori (c. 1575–1625) took the place of Niccolò de’ Bonis as engraver. A little over a dozen years later, in 1623, Urban VIII Barberini (1568–1644), who was also a refined numismatic collector, ascended the throne of Peter. The new pope welcomed Mori’s suggestion to appoint as his successor a distant relative, Gaspare Mola (1567–1640). After Mori’s death in 1625, Mola opened the door to the great golden age of the Roman Baroque medal. For his skill with the burin, he obtained from the Pope the appointment of Chamber Engraver ad vitam. Mola also named as his successor his nephew Gasparo Morone and indeed this choice was fortuitous. Gasparo Morone Mola (1603–1669) became the greatest Italian engraver of the Baroque Age. Like his uncle, he obtained from Urban VIII the office of Chamber Engraver ad vitam and he proved worthy of it. In the age of Innocent X Pamphili (1574–1655), however, Mola’s reputation was overshadowed by the skill of Johan Jacob Kormann, a German from Augsburg, who moved to Italy in 1620 and proved himself to be an excellent engraver, creating medals of
the highest artistic quality (fig. 16).

Alexander VII Chigi (1599–1667) so loved medals that he sometimes made sketches of them and made recommendations to his engraving staff on the wording and placement of legends. One such sketch, for example, was of the foundation medal of the Portico of Saint Peter’s Square, the most famous architectural work of Gian Lorenzo Bernini (fig. 17). Alexander VII’s pontificate, like that of Paul II, was also marked by a long list of commemorative medals; his edifices, from the Portico of Saint Peter’s to the Altar of the Chair, from the Scala Regia in the Vatican to the Quirinal Palace, from the several restored churches or those built ex novo, all were immortalized in medallic art, designed not only
by Morone, but also by Gioacchino Francesco Travani (1605–1675), one of the most singular representatives of a particular sub-group of medallari (or medalists).

His particular skill was in cast medals and he created, using a drawing almost certainly done by Bernini, the famous “Jacobacci Medallion”, the finest cast medal of the Baroque Age (fig. 18). When Gaspare Morone began to suffer from arthritis, Girolamo Lucenti (1627–1698) was placed at his side and, after Morone’s death, took his place entirely, but Lucenti only obtained the official appointment as Chamber Engraver in 1675 from pope
Clement X Altieri (1590–1676). Because Lucenti was overcommitted with too much to do, Travani was then placed at his side. In the meantime, in the new mint of Rome, the Bavarian Alberto Hamerani (1620–1704) began work; he was the progenitor of a dynasty of medalists that had a virtual monopoly in the Roman mint for almost a century and a half. On September 21, 1676, Innocent XI Odescalchi (1611–1689) was elected Pope and
a few days later Girolamo Lucenti was dismissed from his post. Giovanni Martino Hamerani (1646–1704), son of Alberto and son-in-law of Cristoforo Marchionni,
owner of a private minting workshop on the Via dei Coronari (at the sign of the she-wolf), was appointed the new Chamber Engraver. Giovanni Martino Hamerani was the best of his family of engravers from an artistic point of view and his nose for business turned the workshop on the Via dei Coronari into the most important private minting establishment in Europe.

The final years of the seventeenth century saw the rebirth of a Roman school of medallic art. Among the artists of this period, Ferdinand de Saint-Urbain from Lorraine (c. 1654–1738) stands out, although in contrast to Giovanni Hamerani, his career faced obstructions at every turn. During the pontificate of Innocent XII Pignatelli (1615–1700), Giovanni Hamerani kept his advantageous position overseeing medallic art in Rome.
In his last years, he started to collect a great number of dies of earlier papal medals and soon thereafter began restriking them on a small scale, something that his sons continued to do but on a larger scale. In fact, two of his children Ermenegildo (1683–1756) and especially Beatrice (1677–1704) started working as medalists. In 1702, when a stroke struck down Giovanni, these two produced the annual medal in his place (fig. 19). The
annual medal for 1703 was engraved by Saint Urbain due both to Giovanni Hamerani’s poor health and to his children’s lesser talent. This medal was, however, the last work of Saint-Urbain in Rome. The hostility of the Hamerani family convinced him to leave the city in the late spring of 1703. Ermenegildo was duly appointed as Chamber Engraver and Master of the Irons; his younger brother Ottone (1694–1761) also soon followed the family
tradition. When Ottone was sixteen, he modeled a splendid cast medallion on the occasion of the beatification of the Jesuit Giovanni Francesco Regis (fig. 20). In the first half of the eighteenth century, the Hamerani monopoly remained unassailable. When Giacomo Mazio was appointed as Director of the Mint, however, things for the Hameranis soon changed. The Chamber Engraver lost several privileges and he became in essence just another salaried worker of the State. This situation caused, with the passing of time, the economic decline of the Hameranis. Ferdinando Hamerani (1730–1789), who disliked Mazio and was nagged by serious financial problems, tried, at one point, to sell the prestigious family’s collection of dies. This was stopped by the intervention of the Reverend Apostolic Chamber, which forbade the sale of the dies to a third party, and which tried to buy the dies at a reduced price. For inexplicable reasons, Ferdinando Hamerani in 1771 was dismissed from the mint. The election, in February 1775, of Pius VI Braschi (1717–1799) saw the re-employment of Ferdinando, but his financial situation had not improved and so he was compelled to abandon the family workshop and move into a rented house along with his wife and his sons Gioacchino and Giovanni. With the death of Ferdinando in 1789, his first-born Gioacchino (1761–1797) was appointed to the mint, although he did not enjoy good health; for this reason, he sought a coworker, finding one in Tommaso Mercandetti (1758–1821), the best engraver of his generation.

In the meantime, the Napoleonic star had begun its upward course. The French victor imposed on Pius VI the indemnity of the Treaty of Tolentino, which drained the treasury’s coffers. To add to the papal hardships, on February 15, 1798, General Berthier deposed Pius VI as temporal sovereign and, five days later, ordered the old, sick Pope to be transferred to France, to Valence, where death overtook him on August 29, 1799. Under his successor, Pius VII, Tommaso Mercandetti remained Chamber Engraver. After Mazio had regained his office as Director of the Mint, he assigned the young Giovanni Hamerani (1763–1846), son of Ferdinando and brother of Gioacchino, to engrave the annual medal.
The lack of money in the State’s coffers stopped the issue of the annual medals in 1802 and 1803, although Giovanni Hamerani had prepared the dies for 1802. The young Hamerani was, however, no great artist, especially when compared to Mercandetti, who in order to survive, had started engraving sets of medallions dedicated to “illustrious Italians”, a series that opened with a medal depicting on the obverse Pius VII, and on its reverse the Colosseum (fig. 21). This medallion was so well received that the Pope, at the end of 1806, reemployed Mercandetti at the mint (fig. 22). But it was too late. Napoleon, on April 2, 1808, annexed the Papal State to the French Empire, occupied Rome and, on July 6, 1809, arrested Pius VII at the Quirinal Palace. He was soon transferred to France as a prisoner. At the beginning of 1814, after the disastrous Russian campaign, Napoleon ordered Pius VII to be liberated from his prison in Fontainebleau and let him return to Italy. His journey was triumphal and each stage was marked by commemorative medals. Most of these were created by the brothers Giuseppe (1756–1829) and Giovanni Pasinati (1755–before 1829), whereas a French artist, Henri François Brandt (1789–1845), celebrated the liberation of Pius VII with a medal showing, on the reverse, the scene of Saint Peter freed by an angel (fig. 23). The same scene appeared on the annual medal of 1814, whose execution was assigned by Mazio to Mercandetti, only because he was the sole engraver available at that time (fig. 24). For his work, Mercandetti took his inspiration from the famous fresco by Raphael in the Vatican. Nevertheless, Mercandetti was dismissed from the mint and replaced, for the annual medal of 1815, by the Pasinati brothers. The annual medal of the following year, 1816, was assigned to Brandt. Still on the outs, Mercandetti again was passed over for the annual medals of 1818 and 1819, which were assigned to Salvatore Passamonti (d. 1852). At last in 1820, Mercandetti was given back all of his earlier commissions including many important medals for Pius VII, such as the annual medals of 1820 and 1821, the latter being the year of the artist’s death. His final annual medal, dedicated to the recognition of the mortal remains of Saint Francis of Assisi, was issued after his death in May 1821 (fig. 25).

After Mercandetti’s death, there was no one who seemed worthy of his prestigous office. For this reason, the mint director decided to set up a competition and the winners ex aequo were Giuseppe Cerbara and Giuseppe Girometti, both Roman seal makers and engravers. Both had a decent artistic stature: the former, Cerbara, had a genius for figurative medals; the latter, Girometti, was better at creating architectural scenes,
such as the medal with the impossible perspective of the Piazza del Popolo. In the meantime, the new Director of the Mint, Francesco Mazio and his son Giuseppe,
thought to use, for their new issues, the dies they had held in their possession since 1815 as well as the two hundred dies from the Barberini collection. Radical changes in medallic art took place under Pius IX Mastai Ferretti (1846–1878). In the first two years of his pontificate, until the proclamation of the Second Roman Republic (1848–1849), there was not a great deal of development. Significant changes took place when the pope came back to Rome after his voluntary exile in the Kingdom of Naples. From 1852 onwards, the technical and artistic quality of the engravers improved, thanks to a generational turnover. Nicola Cerbara, before being sent to exile because of his political involvement in the Republic of Rome, engraved what is considered the best Italian medal of the 1800s. Pius IX wanted to thank the members of the diplomatic corps who had followed him voluntarily into temporary exile in Gaeta, to escape the dangerous disorders in Rome. To show his appreciation, the Pope had struck in gold a medal of a maximum module, the largest achievable with the machinery of the time. Nicola Cerbara engraved, on the obverse, a lively portrait of the Pope and on the reverse, a magnificent view of Gaeta (fig. 26). In 1853, Giuseppe Cerbara created his last medal showing,on the obverse, the figure of Pius IX seated in an armchair in domestic quarters; the reverse shows the Porta Pia, after its restoration (fig. 27). New technical inventions permitted the creation of medals of exceptional diameters, like, for example, a medal made by Zaccagnini, commemorating the column erected in the Piazza di Spagna in honor of the Immaculate Conception (fig. 28). At 32 years, the pontificate of Pius IX was the longest in history, after that of Saint Peter himself, during which time the Papal State was a theater of changes and exceptional events including the loss of

territories and the proclamation of the Kingdom of Italy in 1861. All these events were recorded on medals, as was one of the most exceptional events of the day, the First Vatican Council in 1869. Giuseppe Bianchi’s medal commemorating the Council again went for
maximum module, featuring the interior of the Vatican Basilica, a great artistic achievement (fig. 29). Soon thereafter, medallic art throughout all of Europe went through a period of crisis, in which the work remained anchored in post-romantic styles and an inflated artistic vernacular. Although many medals of the second part of the nineteenth century were beautiful from a technical point of view, they lacked the afflato of the art. In time, however, with the resurgence of the art medal around 1900, this slumbering medium was brought back to life.

Dr. Giancarlo Alteri is Director of the Numismatic Department at the Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana.

A Horse of a Different Color: The Allure of New Jersey Coppers

by Oliver D. Hoover

Horsing Around Unlike Massachusetts, which had operated a colonial silver mint in the second half of the seventeenth century, and Maryland and Virginia, which had imported specially commissioned coins produced by the Tower Mint in 1658–1659 and 1773, respectively, New Jersey was relatively late in producing its own coinage (Figs. 1–2). Although token coppers featuring St. Patrick were brought in quantity by the Irish Quaker, Mark Newby, and had served as proxy official coins for the colony in 1681 (fig. 3), the true coinage of New Jersey was only struck in the aftermath of the American Revolution, in
the period 1786–1790.

A state copper coinage for New Jersey was the brainchild of Matthias Ogden, a wealthy and respected member of the New Jersey Legislative Assembly in the late eighteenth century. He promoted the creation of this coinage as a means of restoring faith in the state’s currency and ending a disastrous cycle of personal debt exacerbated by the tendency of New Jersey’s paper money to rapidly lose its value. Ogden had the vision, finances, and political clout (after a little maneuvering in the Assembly) to get the coinage legislation passed on June 1, 1786 and organized a somewhat unlikely and incendiary, trio—Walter Mould, Thomas Goadsby, and Albion Cox—to strike coins featuring a horse’s head and plow on the obverse and a shield on the reverse (fig. 4).

Mould was an experienced, but often insolvent, coiner with a dark past, which may have included an arrest for counterfeiting in Bristol in 1776. Cox had been an assayer at the Sheffield Assay Office in England, but immigrated to the United States in 1783, where he failed as a merchant and fell deeply into debt. Goadsby had been a rather more successful merchant before joining the coining partnership. What skills he may have had to
qualify him for work in a coining operation are unclear. These three partners were granted a contract to produce three million coppers over a two-year period, and immediately went to work obtaining a screw press and leasing mint locations in what is now Rahway, NJ. However, by the fall of that year, it was quickly becoming apparent that Ogden had brought together what might be considered the Moe, Larry, and Curly of Confederation-
period coining ventures. The fighting began when Walter Mould had difficulties in obtaining the surety required by the coining contract; an unspecified secret from his past was discovered by Goadsby and Cox, and he reportedly failed to assist in preparing the Rahway facilities for production. The partnership was legally severed on November 22, 1786, and the state ordered Goadsby and Cox to produce two million coppers at
Rahway and Mould was required to produce one million on his own.

Through the patronage of John Cleves Symmes, the wealthy New Jersey judge and land developer in what would later become the state of Ohio, Mould was able to post his surety by early 1787 and establish a mint at Solitude, the Symmes estate in Morristown, NJ. Nevertheless, the acrimonious relationship of the coiners continued with Mould attempting to sue his former partners later that year. At the same time, Cox’s mounting debt caused Goadsby to repeatedly lend him money through 1787 until, fearful that Cox’s creditors might seize the assets of the Rahway mint, Goadsby terminated his relationship with Cox and assumed the assets of the former partnership. At this point the three original partners were essentially free agents, but this still did not bring an end to their conflicts. After a brief period of debt imprisonment, Cox was released on January 30, 1788, and immediately hatched a plot to break into the Rahway mint and steal its equipment. New evidence seems to indicate that the equipment and materials were carried off—not without a little irony—to Mould in Morristown before a court ordered their return to Goadsby.

Having suffered as he watched his New Jersey copper dream implode over the course of two years, in March 1788, Matthias Ogden took over the obligations and assets of the Rahway mint and had its equipment brought to a new site near his home in Elizabethtown (now Elizabeth, NJ). Goadsby subsequently returned to the life of a merchant in New York City and Cox probably operated the Elizabethtown mint for Ogden. The talents of Albion Cox later gained him the post of assayer at the U.S. Mint. Tired by Mould’s failure to live up to his obligations with respect to the coining contract and to the lease of the original Rahway mint site, in summer 1788, Ogden attempted to place him in debtors’ prison. Mould, however, escaped into the wilderness of the Old Northwest Territory along with the Symmes family before he could be apprehended.

In an attempt to make good some of what must have been substantial losses on his coining dream, Ogden’s Elizabethtown mint struck coppers for several years more, despite possessing only 1786- and 1787-dated obverse dies. Often other lighter and less-valued coppers were used as flans rather than new planchets as a means of wringing the most profit out of each New Jersey copper produced (fig. 5). This residual operation appears to
have been legislated out of business in 1790. Thus the grand design for a New Jersey coinage came to an end with somewhat of a whimper, in contrast to the earlier noise and tumult.

It is remarkable that amid all the chaos and fighting among the coining partners they still managed to produce one of the most stable state coinages of the Confederation era. Far less surprising is that, with a back-story like this, New Jersey coppers have garnered the large following that they have among colonial coin enthusiasts. Looking the Horse in the Mouth The copper coins struck for the state of New Jersey were roughly the size of a contemporary English halfpenny and were legislated to weigh 150 grains (9.71 grams).
Early numismatic literature often refers to the coins as “cents” but they are not labeled with their denomination, nor is this explicitly given in the coining legislation. This is no coincidence since the coppers were a token currency and therefore their face value could be reduced or “cried up” as the state (and public perception) might require.

Like the denomination, the coin types were not legislated, but the choice for the obverse device was fairly obvious. The most prominent elements of the Great Seal of the State of New Jersey—a horse’s head and a plow—were selected, although the direction and treatment of both head and plow could vary from die to die (Figs. 6–7). Usually both design elements face right on the coins, although they face in the opposite direction on
the Great Seal. This change in direction may be attributed to an error in die cutting that ultimately became canonical, or perhaps more likely, it reflects a conscious connection between the coppers and the earlier paper money of New Jersey. New Jersey bills of credit and tax notes issued in 1781 and 1783 both feature an engraved print of the complete Great Seal design, but reversed (fig. 8). Thus it may be that when the form of the New Jersey copper obverse was devised it took as its model not the Great Seal itself, but rather its pale reflection on the state’s failed paper money. The obverse devices of the new coppers gave the impression that they represented the new and improved version of the paper note.
This improvement was not just symbolic, for when the Copper Panic of 1789–1790 struck down the values of coppers (state, Federal, and halfpence) circulating in New York, that of the New Jersey copper remained stable, making it the preferred small-change medium
during the crisis.

At the same time that the obverse horse type appears to go back indirectly to the Great Seal of New Jersey for its inspiration, the reverse shield type of the New Jersey copper looks to the Great Seal of the United States. The use of this explicitly Federal symbol for the coins of New Jersey represents an important iconographic crossroads for the state coinages of the Confederation period. The shield (escutcheon in heraldic terms), which
is carried by a displayed heraldic eagle on the Great Seal of the United States, is emblazoned with a horizontal band at the top (chief in heraldic terms) above 13 vertical bands (pales in heraldic terms). This blazon was created by Congressional Secretary Charles Thomson as an element of the young country’s coat of arms in 1782 and was intended to represent the unity of the 13 original

colonies-cum-states (symbolized by the pales) under Congress (symbolized by the chief). The appearance of this shield with the associated motto of the Great Seal of the United States (E PLURIBUS UNUM—“one out of many”) on the reverse of the first regular issues of New Jersey coppers in late 1786 seems to clearly identify New Jersey with the Federalist camp during the drawn-out struggle to ratify the new Constitution of the United States. This is perhaps not surprising, since, following a unanimous vote on December 17, 1787, New Jersey became the third state to ratify the Constitution. It was beaten out for first and second place by Delaware and Pennsylvania, respectively, and only by a matter of days.
In contrast, the contemporary coppers struck for Connecticut (and by sundry counterfeiters) give a somewhat anti-Federalist or at least noncommittal impression through their subtle repackaging of the Britannia of the English halfpenny as the personification of the state and the Latin legend indicating that their production was AUCTORI CONNEC (“by the authority of Connecticut”) (fig. 9). Although Connecticut ratified the Constitution on January 9, 1788—not long after New Jersey—there is not a hint of Congress in this typology, or in that of the related “portrait” coppers struck
for Vermont in 1787–1788. Previous enthusiasm for the American Federal experiment seems to have cooled considerably in Vermont by this time. The preceding “landscape” coppers struck in 1785–1786 were inspired by patterns for a Federal coinage introduced by Robert Morris in 1783 and proudly expressed the desire of the Republic of Vermont to become the QUARTA DECIMA STELLA (“fourteenth star”) in the constellation of
the United States of America (Figs. 10–11). As it turned out, Vermont was the last of the original states to ratify the Constitution, waiting until January 10, 1791.

Massachusetts, which ratified the Constitution on February 6, 1788, seems to have looked in part to the model of New Jersey when its state coppers were designed by Joseph Callender in 1787 (fig. 12). As on the New Jersey coppers, the cents and half cents of Massachusetts gave over their obverses to a type drawn from the state seal—the Indian from the old seal given to the Massachusetts Bay Company by King Charles I in 1628/9—
while the reverse was Federally-inspired. Although the design requirements for the Massachusetts reverse only specified an “eagle with spread wings.” Callender engraved the reverse die with the eagle supporting the American shield, looking both to the Great Seal of the United States and to the numismatic precedent set by New Jersey. Thus, New Jersey coppers enjoy the special status of being the first in a long line of American coins and notes to feature the shield (with associated elements) from the Great Seal of the United States. The shield was a commonplace of Federal coin design in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries (fig. 13) and the entirety of the Great Seal—including the
shield—has appeared on the U.S. dollar bill since 1935. However, the preeminence of New Jersey in taking recourse to the Great Seal of the United States for coin design should not be considered an unqualified expression of the state’s unbridled Federalism and patriotic
fervor. Cold economic considerations also played a role. As it happens, shortly before Mould, Goadsby, and Cox were granted the New Jersey coining contract, Walter Mould had petitioned Congress independently for a Federal coining contract. One of the shield dies used for early New Jersey coppers (Maris C) is known paired with several Federal pattern obverse dies (fig. 14), which tends to suggest that it was first engraved as part of Mould’s failed bid for the Federal contract and then reused for the New Jersey coining operation in order to increase cost effectiveness.

Flogging a Dead Horse

Although the public’s ready acceptance of New Jersey coppers may have kept them in production until as late as 1790, the establishment of the United States Mint in 1792 and the introduction of the U.S. large cent (fig. 15) the following year ensured that the coins of New Jersey would gradually disappear from the American circulation pool over the course of the early nineteenth century. Specimens found in excavations at Fort York (Toronto)
seem to imply that circulation continued at least into the period of the War of 1812 (1812–1815), but by the mid-nineteenth century they were scarce enough to warrant the attention of collectors and antiquarians. The collector of American coins was a relatively new breed, created in part by a growing national nostalgia at a time when the United States drifted ever closer to both Civil War (1861–1865) and the centennial of the Revolution (1876). The numismatic interest of this period is perhaps best illustrated by the formation of the American Numismatic Society in New York City on April 6, 1858. The history of collecting New Jersey coppers has been masterfully recounted already in a recent article published in the print journal of the Numismatic Bibliomania Society (The Asylum 30.2 [April–June 2012]: 31–71). Anyone familiar with this piece will be aware of
the colorful (and sometimes nefarious) characters who have become obsessed by possessing, studying, and/or marketing New Jersey coppers over the last 150 years. Above them all towers Dr. Edward Maris (fig. 16), who assembled a preeminent collection of New Jersey die varieties and developed the standard taxonomy for their identification in A Historic Sketch of the Coins of New Jersey (1881). His work, with its accompanying plate, still remains the bible for New Jersey collectors, although a number of new varieties have been discovered in the years following its publication. Many of these individuals have left behind an abiding legacy in the vaults or library of the American Numismatic Society. The rare books collection includes a signed presentation copy of Maris’s magnum opus given to the Society by the author, as well as several manuscripts that have made important contributions to the study of New Jersey coppers in the post-Maris era. These include a microfilm of the Colonial Encyclopedia (early 1900s) of Dr. Thomas P. Hall, who has been regarded as the discoverer of the most New Jersey die varieties after Maris himself; The Copper Coinage of the State of New Jersey penned by the eminent New Jersey collector, Damon G. Douglas, in the late 1940s and 1950s, and which marshals a great deal of documentary evidence in an effort to reconstruct the true history of the New Jersey mints and minters; and Walter Breen’s unpublished New Jersey Coppers (1955–1958), which provided the underpinnings for the New Jersey section of his influential but often problematic Complete Encyclopedia of U.S. and Colonial Coins (1987).

Thanks to the editorial efforts of Gary Trudgen and several notable New Jersey copper enthusiasts, an annotated version of the Douglas manuscript was published by the ANS in 2003. Much more recently, the Society’s past President, Roger Siboni, had the manuscript of Hall’s Encyclopedia digitized and improved for legibility. Its wealth of information on the early expansion of New Jersey variety taxonomy, prices, and other aspects of colonial coin collecting at the dawn of the twentieth century, is now available to anyone with access to the Society’s library. The bulk of the Society’s extensive New Jersey copper holdings originated in two major collections formed in the early twentieth century, those of Frederick A. Canfield (1849–1926) and Harry Prescott Clark Beach (1871–1943). Material from both collections entered the Society’s cabinets through circuitous means. In 1926, Canfield’s coins were donated to the New Jersey Historical Society. The NJHS in turn gave the die variety duplicates (24 pieces) to the ANS in return for its assistance in attributing the coins. The Beach collection was purchased outright by the Society in 1945, when it was offered for sale by Henry Grünthal (1905–2001). For the grand sum of $778.00, Beach’s 220 coppers and 1,160 other coins and notes of colonial American and European origin entered the collection. At the time of the sale, Grünthal, a welleducated German-American coin dealer, was working for Stack’s Rare Coins in New York City, but in 1953 he joined the ANS staff as Assistant to the Chief Curator. He was soon appointed Curator of European and Modern Coins, a position he held until his retirement in 1973. The year after he retired, Grünthal sold the ANS another 20 New Jersey coppers. These pieces are thought to represent a remnant of the Beach collection that was originally held back for unknown reasons. The fact that the price for these coins alone was $500.00 illustrates the marketing trend for New Jersey coppers that continues to accelerate to this day. The entirety of the Society’s New Jersey copper holdings have been digitally photographed and made available online thanks to the sponsorship of Roger Siboni and current ANS President, Sydney Martin. Perhaps the most eloquent testimony to the long relationship between the American Numismatic Society and New Jersey coppers comes from a pencil rubbing that still resides in the collection. This rubbing of a New Jersey copper (one of only two known Maris 77-cc varieties) together with a letter from one John West, dated December 27, 1858, represents one of the earliest written enquiries ever made of the ANS (Figs. 17–19). This old relationship will be renewed again this fall, when the Society will publish the most substantial new treatment of the coinage to appear in decades—New Jersey State Coppers by Roger S. Siboni, John L. Howes,
and A. Buell Ish.

From the Collections Manager (Fall 2013)

by Elena Stolyarik

Over the course of the last several months, the ANS has made a number of significant purchases. Among these is a group of Ionian silver fractions dating to roughly 525
BC, which were previously owned by Herbert Cahn. It was Cahn’s studied opinion that these coins, which he labeled the “Ionische Damen” (the Ionian Ladies), were likely produced in Phocaea. With the purchase of these 25 fractions, the ANS now owns the bulk of the known examples (figs. 1–3).

A great deal of our attention lately has been turned to the purchase of medals, many of which belong to important series hitherto poorly represented in our collection. For
example, in 1772, a special Medal Committee was set up in Russia in accordance with an edict of Catherine the Great (1762–1796), the purpose of which was to design and manufacture a commemorative series to illustrate the history of Russia in medals. From the Heritage World and Ancient Coins Signature Auction at the Chicago International
Coin Fair (CICF), the ANS acquired a group of the medals from this series, all struck in the late 1700s. Among these is a bronze medal, designed by J. B. Gass and G. C. Wächter, bearing an allegorical allusion to the traditional founder of the Russian State, Grand Prince Rurik (862–879) (fig. 4). Another medal from this group, by Wächter and S. Vasiliev, bears an image of the infant Prince Igor, Rurik’s son, and Prince Oleg, Rurik’s successor, viewing the site of future the city of Moscow (in 880) (fig. 5).

Other acquisitions from the same series include a bronze medal by Samuel Iudich Iudin and Timofei Ivanov, with the inscription “Glory does not vanish,” memorializing the death of Prince Oleg in 912, and showing the burial mounds of Rurik, Oleg, and Rurik’s brothers Sineus and Truvor (fig. 6); a bronze medal commemorating the 941 naval expedition to Tsargrad by Igor, Grand Prince of the Kiev Rus, designed by J. C. Jaeger and S. I. Iudin (fig. 7.); a medal designed, again, by the talented pair of Ivanov and Iudin, commemorating the capture in 971 of the Bulgar city of Pereyaslavets on the Danube (in modern Romania) by Prince Sviatoslav (son of Prince Igor) (fig. 8). The thirty year period represented on these medals (942–972) is important for the Rus expansion into the Volga valley, the Northern Black Sea steppe, and the Balkans.

Still another significant Russian historical acquisition is a 19th-century bronze medal bearing a portrait of Czar Alexander II and an image of the armored emperor, led by Victory and Minerva, crossing the frontier (fig. 9). This example is one of the twenty-four medals in a series recording Russian victories over Napoleon. It was designed and issued in 1835, by the Saint Petersburg mint engravers A. Klepikov and A. Lyalin. Count Fyodor Petrovich Tolstoy, Vice-President of the Russian Imperial Academy of Art (1828–1868) initiated this series.

Through the same April Heritage sale, the ANS also obtained an extremely rare copper medal from the Bourbon Kingdom of the Two Sicilies. This piece was issued in Naples in 1784 in memory of Livia Doria Carafa of Roccella, Princess of the Holy Roman Empire, who died in February 1779 at the age of 34. The German medalist Bernhard Perger modeled this effigy of the princess based on a marble bust sculpted by Giuseppe Sanmartino (fig. 10).

Other purchases for the medals department include a group of 18th- and 19th-century German medals, among which are a 1747 bronze medal of Marshal Maurice de Saxe designed by Jean Dassier (fig. 11), an 1818 bronze medal dedicated to the Golden Jubilee of King Friedrich August I of Saxony (1805–1827) (fig. 12), and an 1829 medal  commemorating the tercentennial of the Protestation of Speyer (fig. 13). The latter two were struck by Loos’s private mint in Berlin. Also among these newly acquired German medals is an 1890 bronze celebrating the 90th birthday of Field Marshal Helmut von Moltke, designed and struck by L. Chr. Lauer in Nürnberg (fig. 14).

From the Heritage Weekly World and Ancient Coin Auction (April 25, 2013) we acquired several 19th-century British medallic works, including an 1820 bronze medal by Thomas Ingram Wells for the accession of George IV (fig. 15), the official coronation medal of George IV in bronze by Benedetto Pistrucci (fig. 16), and a bronze medal with exceptionally high rims for the reception during the 1886 Colonial and Indian Exhibition. This last bears a rising sun and a mantle with British, Australian, Canadian, and imaginary Indian arms on one side, and a remarkably detailed view of the Guildhall, with the
arms of the Corporation of London underneath, on the other (fig. 17). Another attractive piece in this group is an 1855 medal awarded by the Board of Trade, designed  by Benjamin Wyon; it shows a laureate head of Queen Victoria, with the legend AWARDED BY THE BOARD OF TRADE FOR GALLANTRY IN SAVING LIFE, and a group of survivors on the wreckage of a ship, signaling to a lifeboat. The medal has a plain edge and was never awarded (fig. 18).

Through the same Heritage sale, the ANS also obtained three extremely fine Greek medals, including a pair of bronze items with allegorical images of Greece issued during the early reign of King Othon (Otto), the royal prince of Bavaria who became the first modern King of Greece (1832–1862). One of these medals was designed in 1832 by Carl Voigt, perhaps Bavaria’s greatest engraver (fig. 19), and another, issued in 1835, was designed by Konrad Lange, a famous medalist and mint engraver at Vienna (fig. 20). An 1839 bronze medal—
again designed by Lange—commemorates the founding of the University of Athens. It features an image of young Otho, in Greek costume, with the title “King of Greece” (rather than “King of the Greeks”) on one side and an image of the University building’s façade on the other (fig. 21). Another fortunate acquisition for the medals department is the World War I iron plaquette, Die Torpedierten, purchased from the Baldwin’s auction of May 10, 2013) and acquired through the Simmons Gallery of London. This piece, designed by Ludwig Gies, depicts an image of survivors, rescued from the sea, being pulled into a
crowded lifeboat (fig. 22).

In our quest to form a complete collection of British Art Medal Society (BAMS) medals, we acquired another small group of the series through the Simmons Gallery. Among these is a 1990 silver medal by Kevin Coates (b. 1950) dedicated to the musical genius, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791). On the obverse of this egg-shaped piece, the composer is shown wearing the Order of the Golden Spur and playing, on a keyboard, a chord in G minor. On the upper part of its reverse, the head of the young Mozart (“the child as father of the man”) is connected with the opposite face and modeled in three dimensions (fig. 23). Also among these new BAMS acquisitions is a 1997 cast bronze medal, In Good Hands, by the Liverpool-based artist Roger McGough (b.1937), who is known primarily as a contemporary poet. His creation reflects the symbiotic relationship that can exist between poetry and the medallic art, carrying a poem inscribed on the surface: “Where night falls/ The earth is always/ There to catch it” (fig. 24).

An additional piece in this new BAMS purchase is a three-dimensional cast bronze medal of 1993, Fox and Grapes, by Julian Cross (b. 1955). This beautifully patinated example refers to the fables by Aesop, The Fox and the Grapes (also known as “Sour Grapes”) and The Fox and the Crow (also known as “A Lesson for a Fool”). Here, the fox convinces the crow (on the reverse), that if she had a voice to match her beauty, she would then be
the best of all the birds. The crow opens her beak and so drops the grapes she is carrying, which the fox otherwise cannot reach (fig. 25). Another BAMS item is Gwyniad, a 2003 silver double-sided cast medal by Bethan Williams. On one side it reveals an image of a threatened fish species (Coregonus pennantii) found only in Bala Lake (North Wales), whose local name is “gwyniad.” The other side shows a wild and aggressive salmon. The inscription on the side reads: “The mountain his trapper and keeper/ His lineage free in the wild of the sea” (fig. 26).

Another BAMS medal, The Promise, was designed and struck in 2003 by Matthew Holland (b. 1963), director of the Bigbury Mint, and is dedicated to the celebration of
people growing old together. The obverse shows young lovers while the reverse shows the same couple grown old. It is summed up by the words, “Life is strange, but whatever the change, the fact remains, I love you” (fig. 27). The Society also acquired a charming example of the medallic work of Ronald Searle (1920–2011), the internationally famous cartoonist, illustrator, and medalist. This is a bronze medal issued in 2000 dedicated to
the writer James Boswell (1740–1795), best known for his biography of Dr. Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), the famous poet, literary critic, biographer, editor and lexicographer. On this humorous work, Boswell is portrayed with pen in hand on the obverse, while at the same time on the reverse he pursues Johnson, with his notebook
ready to catch for posterity the doctor’s renowned witticisms (fig. 28).

To the great satisfaction of the curatorial staff, we received from ANS Trustee Dr. Lawrence A. Adams an award medal given by one of our former sister organizations
on Audubon Terrace. This gold medal of the National Institute of Arts and Letters was awarded to the composer Aaron Copland on May 23, 1956, for his achievements in
music (fig. 29). Designed by the eminent German-American sculptor, Adolph Alexander Weinman, known to numismatists for his stunning “Mercury” dime (1916–1945)
and Walking Liberty half dollar (1916–1947), the medal bears a very handsome classical head of Apollo on one side and a radiant lamp of the knowledge on the other. Through an unusual Kickstarter campaign (an online crowd-sourcing site), perhaps the first campaign of this sort supporting medallic art, we obtained a set of medals celebrating the second inauguration of Barack Obama and Joseph Biden. The set consists of three medals—
bronze, silver-plated bronze, and .999 fine silver—designed and sculpted by the Philadelphia-based artist Amy Kann, who also sculpted the Eric Newman medal for the
ANS. A private initiative, Ms. Kann produced this unofficial inaugural medal as an attempt to render a portrait of the President that expresses his openness and accessibility.
The offset portraits in the composition look toward the future, as befits their progressive ideals while the letters, hand carved in the nineteenth-century tradition, give this
issue a timeless elegance (fig. 30).

The Rochester Numismatic Association has served coin collectors and dealers of Rochester and western New York since 1912. RNA Curator, John Zabel, donated to the ANS
two annual Past President medals in bronze: those of Steven H. Eisinger, 98th President (2010), and Peter F. Blaisdell, 99th President (2011). Both medals were designed by
Luigi Badia (obverse) and Alphonse Kolb (reverse) and struck by North American Mint of Rochester. From Karen Alster the ANS acquired an important donation of a proof-like 1795 Draped Bust–Small Eagle silver dollar. This is a truly exceptional example of the classic obverse variety distinguished by having the new Draped Bust of Liberty punched into the die far to the left, giving this obverse an interesting off-center look unique to this date (fig. 31). Additional donations from Karen Alster include a fascinating example of an 1831 Capped Bust silver half dime (fig. 32), a proof 1836 Classic Head gold quarter eagle
(the Professional Edition of the Guide Book of United States Coins suggests that five to seven examples could exist in all proof grades although Walter Breen listed it this proof as
unique (fig. 33), and a 1877-CC Small Mintmark Liberty Seated silver half dollar thought possibly to be a branch mint proof. This impressive coin may have been struck for
presentation to a visiting dignitary or even a Mint official and certainly would be unique as a proof (fig. 34).

Current Exhibition

In April, the J. Paul Getty Museum at the Getty Villa in Los Angeles, California, invited visitors to view the magnificent exhibition Sicily: Art and Invention between
Greece and Rome, co-organized by the Getty Museum, the Cleveland Museum of Art, and the Assessorato dei Beni Culturali e dell’Identità Siciliana. It celebrates 2013 as the Year of Italian Culture in the United States, an initiative of the Italian Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
The exhibit presents masterpieces of ancient art from the crossroads of the Mediterranean. Art, architecture, theater, poetry, philosophy, and science prospered in the Greek colonies of Sicily, leaving a long-lasting mark on mainland Greece and later on Rome. The objects in this exhibition include stone and bronze sculptures, vase paintings, votive terracotta statuettes and reliefs, carved ivory, gold and silver metalwork, jewelry, inscriptions, and architectural fragments, all witnesses to the achievements of Classical culture. Four ANS gold litrai from the Avola hoard (fig. 35–36) contribute in a fundamental way to the exhibition, which places special emphasis on Sicilian coinage. The Society’s Avola coins are being exhibited alongside gold jewelry, owned by the British Museum, also from the hoard. In addition, ANS coins with images of Arethusa and Heracles complement other depictions of nymphs and heroes on display in the same gallery. The exhibition will be on view at the Getty Villa until August 19, 2013.

Clifford Hewitt: International Man of Mystery?

by David Hill

When in early 2012 there emerged a previously unknown die used in 1920 to strike the obverse of a medal commemorating the opening of the Manila Mint in the Philippines, attention in some quarters turned to the person who had long been credited with its design, Clifford Hewitt (fig. 1). In reaction to published accounts, contributors to Internet forums such as the Numismatic Bibliomania Society’s E-Sylum and the Collectors Society member journals debated the true extent of his involvement as a “designer,” with one person pointing out that Hewitt—at the time the chief mechanical engineer for the U.S. mint—was a machinist and not an engraver and lacked the experience to design a medal
and another offering a detailed debunking of this persistent “numismatic myth.” Others had already been seeking more prosaic bits of information on Hewitt—What were his birth and death dates? Did anyone know his middle name? Was he related to Lee Hewitt, editor
of Numismatic Scrapbook?

It has always seemed there was something elusive about the facts of Hewitt’s life and career. The one detailed published account looking back on his work was an article in CoinAge magazine from 1971 discussing a collection of papers and photographs—which now reside in the ANS Archives—that relate not to the Manila Mint but rather to his later work on China’s Central Mint at Shanghai (fig. 2). “It is amazing,” the author noted at the time, “that such a large contribution to numismatics as has been made by Hewitt should
have been overlooked by the coin fraternity for so many years.” He marveled that Chinese coin authority Eduard Kann neglected to even mention Hewitt in his writings, though the two were both in the same area of China contemporaneously. “An Unknown but Great
Contributor to Numismatics” proclaimed a label from an exhibit of the archival materials that was displayed at the American Numismatic Association (ANA) convention in Washington, D.C., the same year. Modern electronic search tools yield little more: a search of the historical archives of The New York Times fails to find a single mention of Hewitt.

In truth, thanks largely to Hewitt’s own two-page sketch of his life—a copy of which can be found in the ANS Archives collection—and a profile published in the China Weekly Review in 1930 that was based on it, we actually do know quite a bit about him. Born in Hazelton, Pennsylvania, in 1869, he was the son of Isaac Hewitt and grandson of Thomas Hewitt, both pioneering railroad engineers. Following in the family tradition, he says he served an apprenticeship with the Janesville Ironworks in Pennsylvania before graduating from the Franklin Institute of Mechanical Engineering in Philadelphia in 1893. After making a name for himself around Philadelphia with several years work at various shops as a tool and jig designer, he was in 1900 “called into the Government service” as a mechanical
expert in charge of building and equipping the new mint at Philadelphia, which, he would proudly point out years later, was “still known a the ‘Mother Mint’ of the U.S.A.” He built and installed mint exhibits at the St. Louis Exposition of 1904 and the Panama-Pacific
Exposition at San Francisco in 1915. When in 1918 the United States Government, which twenty years earlier had acquired the Philippines in the wake of the Spanish- merican War, made plans to outfit a new mint in Manila with equipment constructed in Philadelphia, they turned to Hewitt, who then oversaw the installation and opening in 1920 of what is still the only branch of the U.S. Mint to have operated outside of the continental United States.

His success in Manila again brought demand for his expertise, this time coming in the form of a cable from China’s minister of finance, who invited him to discuss plans for a central mint to be built at Shanghai. Hewitt would devote the next twelve years of his life to the project. Though the various provinces of China had ostensibly been united in 1912 following the revolution that overthrew the last of its dynastic rulers, the Qing, in
reality the country remained fractious. Various provincial mints, acting more or less on their own, produced currency that varied in weight and fineness. Banking interests in northern China, needing to operate in the world financial markets, hungered for reform—craving uniform, stable, reliable currency—and agreed to loan the money for the new mint. The Chinese government turned to Hewitt, who was granted leave from his
service to the United States to serve as technical mint expert for the Chinese government. He is credited with choosing the site on the Suzhou Creek, with its ideal rail and water access and proximity to the Shanghai banking center, and for insisting that it be built outside of the International Settlement, a trading zone occupied and administered by foreign interests (fig. 3).

Hewitt had his work cut out for him. Conditions in China, always unstable, were looking increasingly tenuous. Regional warlords fought one another for most of the 1920s, and ongoing battles over the control the capital city of Peking—the prize, it was assumed, that
would deliver the entire country—seemed to ensure that the kind of stable centralized authority needed for the success of his project would remain out of reach. With this chaotic state of affairs as a backdrop, the minister of finance was forced to suspend operations in 1926, though the buildings of the mint complex had been completed and the U.S.-built machinery had arrived and was ready to be installed. Hewitt found himself
back in the United States taking a “vacation.” The next couple of years seemed to bring a renewed promise of stability, however, as the Kuomintang, or Nationalist Party, under Chiang Kai-shek was able to crush its regional and ideological enemies, establish a grip over southern China and the economic center of Shanghai-Nanking in the north, and finally march triumphantly into Peking in 1928. The mint project was revived under
the strong hand of the new minister of finance—and Chiang’s brother-in-law—T.V. Soong. A commission invited to China to produce a monetary plan, headed by “money doctor” Edwin Walter Kemmerer of Princeton University, was blunt in its assessment of the situation: “China has unquestionably the worst currency to be found in any important country of the world.” Despite the troubles and setbacks, the Central Mint was finally completed in 1930 and celebrated with the production of a medal whose design, like that of the Manila mint, has been credited to Hewitt from the start (fig. 4). On the obverse it featured a profile of Nationalist founding leader Sun Yat-sen, and on the reverse, a classic
Chinese junk, or boat, with two sails backed by the rays of the sun. These basic design elements had been seen before: the obverse portrait profile and a three-sail boat reverse having been used on pattern coins resulting from a 1929 competition among foreign countries to design a Chinese dollar, and the rays of the sun on a proposed dollar coin of 1927 showcasing Sun Yat-sen’s mausoleum. Though the Chinese government more
or less prescribed the design features to be included in these patterns, it is conceivable that Hewitt had a hand in the conception of the elements.

Despite the enthusiasm surrounding the mint’s official completion in 1930, there were further delays before it could be put into full production, not the least of which were brought on by the increasing aggression of Japan, which, having invaded Manchuria in 1931, was by 1932 battling the Chinese on the streets of Shanghai. The fighting was noted by Hewitt (who, it seems, had in engineering skills what he lacked as a speller and typist):
“The Dam Japs delayed things but thank heaven the Mint was saved several bombs droped in the court I have them for souvenirs fighting was going on all around the Mint it all was very exciting.” Despite the excitement, the mint went into full production on March 1, 1933, though the opening ceremonies were canceled by a government wishing to avoid the “holding of any pompous opening rites…during the present national crisis.” Operated by
about 800 by laborers, many of whom lived in housing built adjacent to the complex, the mint produced the silver dollars that would replace the tael as China’s official standard unit of exchange, as well as silver bars. In addition to offices and minting machinery, it had its own power plant and tool and die shop (figs. 5-10).

Hewitt certainly considered himself the designer of the new dollar coin, and by extension the Completion Medal of 1930, which shared its most prominent design features: “I completed the Chinese Mint and put it into full operation March 1933, with a coin
designed by myself with Dr. Sun Yat-sen’s profile on the obverse and a typical Chinese junk on the reverse, which is now the coinage of the Chinese Government”
Included in the ANS Archives collection are pages from a notebook of designs that, along with the correspondence, provide some insight into the extent of his role as a designer. For the dollar coin, for example, Hewitt would arrange various compositions of cut and pasted photographic images onto a circular field with some hand-drawn elements, which he would then get cleared by the Chinese authorities before submitting them to John R. Sinnock, chief engraver at the

Philadelphia Mint, who actually cut the dies. Hewitt’s “design” for the two-sailed junk, for example, is simply a photograph of a manned boat at sea (fig. 11). The Sun Yat-sen profile for the obverse is a cut photograph of a sculpted bust, said to be done in the same style as
the one submitted by the Italians in the 1929 competition, leaving open the question of how much of a role Hewitt played in its conception (figs. 12-13). For the dollar coin, Hewitt had suggested using three stars on the obverse to represent Sun’s three principle
virtues—nationalism, democracy, and the livelihood of the people—but these were rejected, as Minister Soong felt them to “detract from the beauty of the coins.” After
experimenting with various arrangements (fig. 14), Hewitt used three seagulls on the reverse instead and added the orb of the sun to the rays in the lower right for what turned out to be the first minted design (Fig 15). The result was a disaster. With tensions between
China and its bitter enemy Japan at a high pitch, the gulls were perceived by the public, according to published reports at the time, not as three virtues but rather as a small air squadron on a bombing run emanating from the Land of the Rising Sun. Fifty-one thousand of the coins entered circulation, but over 2 million were withdrawn and melted. A slightly different design, with gulls and sun removed, was issued in 1934 and again in
1935, the final year they were produced (fig. 16).

The Kemmerer Commission report had recommended that China adopt the gold standard and issue subsidiary coinage—denominations less than a dollar—in silver, nickel, and copper. Correspondence and reports in the Hewitt collection document specifications, design elements, experiments with nickel types, and other matters pertaining to the planned production of this fractional currency. Soong approved Hewitt’s design for these, “showing the national flower on the obverse and a pointed star on the reverse,” and instructed him to have the dies made while he was in Philadelphia, where he would be leading a contingent of China Mint officials in the spring of 1931. In contrast to his cut and
pasted efforts for the Sun dollar, Hewitt’s notebook contains what might be considered a design in a more traditional sense: an inked drawing in his own hand for a ten-cent coin, the so-called Temple of Heaven design (figs. 17-18). Essay specimens differ only slightly from this design, though they were produced both with and without holes (figs. 19-20). With the ultimate rejection of the gold standard, the subsidiary coins were never
produced for circulation.

At the time the mint became operational in March 1933, Hewitt was actually back in the United States, settled down in San Diego, and suffering from a debilitating dental affliction. He had left China in January 1933, and the mint had changed directors the
previous September. The transition was not a smooth one, judging by the flurry of telegrams that March that sought to cajole him into returning: “Boss dissatisfied
with present administration, sure change if you cable affirmative reply,” “minister desires your earliest possible return,” “you must return for China and your reputation sake,” “reply immediately thus regain your prestige and reputation” (fig. 21). In addition to
the perceived shortcomings of the new management, it had become apparent by at least March 18, less than a month after they were first issued, that the dollar coin was going to have to be withdrawn and redesigned, and Hewitt was being asked to weigh in on the matter. He cautiously considered a return to China, inquiring “under wh[o]se dir[ec]torship must I serve on my return to the mint[?].” But by April, with a relapse of his
health problems, or simply a desire to wash his hands of the whole project, he cabled, “sincerely regret further developments in my physical condition makes return to Shanghai absolutely impossible.” Nearly four decades after Hewitt left China, his papers relating to the Central Mint—along with coins, essay pieces, planchet’s, and other items—were exhibited at ANA conventions in 1968 and 1971 before being offered for sale by Superior Stamp and Coin in August 1975. The consigner, Edward P. Janzen, stated in his introduction to the exhibit that “some years ago I was fortunate in acquiring official documents and correspondence relating to [Hewitt’s] activities while serving the government of China,” but he was mute on the provenance of the numismatic items themselves, and thus the trail back to Hewitt is uncertain. In 1977 some of these numismatic materials were donated along with the papers to the ANS by Frederick Werner, who was presumably the buyer of the entire lot.

Library News (Fall 2013)

Judging a Book by Its Cover: Bindings and Rare Book Preservation

Elizabeth Hahn

As I reported in the 2012 issue 4 of the ANS Magazine, the Harry W. Bass, Jr., library received modest funding for a project that would re-house unbound auction catalogs
in the rare book room as well as compile a survey of the rare book room items with detailed notes about bindings and conditions. The re-housing phase and a
portion of the survey database have both been completed. At the end of 2012, we were delighted to receive news of additional grant funding to continue work on the survey database. At the completion of the project later this year, we will have a detailed database listing items based on level of priority with detailed information about the costs needed to fund the necessary levels of conservation that have been proposed by our preservation
consultants. Anyone interested in helping to fund the care of a specific item will be able to “adopt-abook” into their care and see it through the process. We are lucky enough to have intern Emily Dunlay continue to work on the project since she started in September
2012. This second phase of the project was started in January 2013 and has been made possible in part by the National Endowment for the Humanities. Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this article do not necessarily represent those of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

The rare book collections of the ANS Library number over 10,000 items and include books dating as far back as the 16th century, manuscripts, auction catalogs, photographic prints, negatives, 16mm and 35mm acetate film, and scrapbooks. There is a great variety of bindings, including many vellum bindings, leather bindings, some East Asian bindings, library bindings, and publisher’s bindings (fig. 1). There are also some East Asian
boxed books—some of the boxes containing the books are silk-covered and present their own unique challenges for care. There are a number of unbound serials, many of which would be too brittle for binding now. The assessment of these bindings by professional conservators will present us with specific recommendations on how to adequately address those needs, both immediate and over the long term. Although we are only part-way
through the project, we have already made some interesting findings. The vast majority of the materials surveyed consist of books, many of which are from the 19th and 20th centuries. This is fairly consistent with what was expected. It is interesting that 27% of this sample predate the 19th century and it will be interesting to see if this trend continues as the survey gathers more data. It was surprising how many of the materials were from
the 20th century as well, reminding us that rarity is not necessarily determined by the age of the materials. As we make our way through the survey, we are also made aware of the wide variety of binding types that exist among the library collections. With a function
to protect the contents of the book, bindings are often where we see the most obvious levels of damage. The ANS Library collections date back to the early 16th century, a period shortly after the introduction of the printing press and when an increasing variety of styles
and types of bindings started to develop in Europe and elsewhere, and these changes are reflected in our survey data. Although the earliest book in the library collections dates to 1516, it has been rebound in modern times. In general, the information contained
in the text of a book is not enough to date the binding because most books were not sold as a bound item and could be bound in a country different from where the text block originated. As such, the decoration of a binding does not necessarily correspond directly to
the content of the book, as this was at trend that only really developed during the 18th century. At the same time, artistic preferences changed and varied from region to region so that it can be difficult to outline specific chronological trends.

Many bindings from the 16th–18th centuries were made of leather or vellum and decorated with a wide variety of methods and designs. “Blind tooling” is a process
where heated tools are pressed into leather, which creates a darkened design on the surface of the skin (fig. 2). Another process that reached Europe in the mid-15th
century was “gold-tooling”, whereby tools were pressed through gold leaf and helped to adhere to the leather by a mixture of egg white and vinegar called “glair.” Many different types of leather were used in early bindings and each country usually used whatever was
most conveniently available. In the fifteenth century, for example, Germany frequently used pigskin, England used calfskin, and Italy used goatskin. Leather is any of these animal skins that have been soaked in tannin after the hair is removed. Vellum or parchment was made from skins that were not tanned but soaked in lime and dried under tension. It was used as a binding material from the 14th century and can often be confused for different types of leather bindings as they can look and feel similar. Numerous examples of both leather and vellum bindings can be found among the ANS Library
collections. Interestingly, many of these earlier vellum bindings are in quite good condition and the text pages inside are stable, although vellum tends to tighten and
warp over time which curls up the edges of the binding. The binding joint and back lining are frequently where we see the most damage, as those areas are under stress each time the book is handled (fig. 3). Moreover, it is when we get into the second half of the 19th century when more acidic paper was used in printing that the books have more rapidly deteriorated. The pages of these books can become quite brittle to the point where
they crumble under even the lightest touch. Cloth bindings have become more common in modern times and buckram, which became widely available after 1880, is one of the most commonly used today for rebinding library books. Buckram is a stiff cloth usually made
of cotton and coated. It is designed to be a durable, moisture-resistant cover that is able to endure the heavy use in libraries. Other types of cloth, like silk and satin, were usually reserved for luxury bindings and are also more prone to damage as the material can fray if the adhesive wears off.

Fig. 1: Some of the many different binding types in the
ANS Library collections.

Fig. 2: An example of “blind tooling” used on the leather binding of
J.M. Heineccius, De veteribus Germanorum aliarumque nationum
sigillis… (Frankfurt and Leipzig : Nicolae Foersteri, 1719).

The point of the present survey is to identify items that are in greatest need of care. So even though the numbers, once extrapolated, can look rather alarming at first glance, in general the collection is well cared for and in relatively good condition. The formal compilation of use statistics can be a very useful tool for gaining a better understanding of how a collection is used and, as importantly, to better understand which materials are at risk. The usefulness of materials can also change over time, so that assumptions made about the research value of materials may change significantly from year to year. Gathering some basic statistics will help us to stay on top of these changes, and the barcoding process, that continues to gain momentum with the help of library interns, has been an excellent way for us to keep track of general use of materials to see what items might be in the greatest risk of overuse. Overall, with the data we have already gathered, we can see a wide variety of conditions and levels of priority and we look forward to
having a detailed report with recommendations for the best ways to care for these items and ensure their longevity while keeping them available to our users. I look forward to sharing more about this exciting project as we continue to gather data and prioritize our actions.

Fig. 3: An example of binding damage: old sheet music has been
used as a lining and is visible where a portion of the spine leather
is missing.

Book Review (Fall 2013)

Review by Ute Wartenberg Kagan

Sylloge Nummorum Graecorum. Greece 7. The KIKPE Collection of Bronze Coins. Volume 1.
By Vasiliki Penna and Yannis Stoyas. Athens: Research
Centre for Antiquity of the Academy of Athens. 2012.
ISSN 1790-0069. ISBN 978-060-404-242-5

In 1931, the first volume of the Sylloge Numorum Graecorum series appeared in Britain; it contained the collection of Greek coins of Capt. E.G. Spencer-Churchill. The concept of a sylloge, as envisaged by its first author, Stanley Robinson, was to give a simple description of and, most importantly, to illustrate all coins in a collection. The photos were arranged facing the text in folio-size, thin volumes. Many museum collections embraced this concept of publishing their holdings, and numerous countries now have their own series. The fastest growing publication programs of SNGs today are in Greece and Turkey, where both public and private collections have been accepted and published. Eight volumes have
been published in Turkey, and in Greece, volume 7 has just appeared, which is being reviewed here. The volume contains descriptions and excellent photographs of 1,233 bronze coins from Spain to India, the Black Sea to Africa, which date from the fifth century to c. 27–25 BCE. There are two indices of rulers and mints; it would have been very useful to have an index of subjects. Under preparation is a second volume of the bronze coins of
the Roman provinces from the reign of Augustus onwards. The collection of c. 4,000 pieces is the property of KIKPE, a Greek abbreviation for the Welfare Foundation
for Social and Cultural Affairs, which also possesses a significant collection of Greek banknotes.

A first look through this Sylloge shows that this is no ordinary collection of coins. Greek bronze coins have long been considered the poor relation of Greek silver. Bronze coins often display more wear and corrosion, which can make them less attractive than their counterparts in precious metal. However, when in good or perfect condition, bronze coins can be extraordinarily attractive, and this collection displays some amazing examples of Greek art. The number of different mints represented by good examples is exceptional, including real rarities, many missing even from cabinets such as the ANS, which has an outstanding Greek bronze collection thanks to its former President and benefactor
E.T. Newell. Many of the specimens in this Sylloge are of great historical or numismatic interest, mainly because of their preservation and rarity. For bronze coins, rarity often goes hand in hand with the obscurity of mint. The cities in question may have left little other trace in the historical record, and the coinage thus opens new perspectives on some part of the Mediterranean world.

SNG KIKPE no. 46, for example, of an uncertain Etruscan mint, most likely Populonia, is a unique coin of a rare series that illustrates beautifully the combination of Rome’s sextantal as standard and the centesimal Etruscan standard. The head of Menrva (also Roman Minerva) shows the inscription XX (XXV or 25) and represents a 25 centesimae. This coin was in fact published by Italo Vecchi in an important article (SNR 72, 1993, p.70, n.31).
On Vecchi’s plates of over fifty illustrated specimens of the series it is hard to find a more attractive coin that the KIKPE specimen. While one could go on to describe almost
every coin in this volume, a few random examples which piqued my interest should give an idea about the wide-ranging interest of this publication.

Experts on the Athenian Empire might know the island of Pholegandros (SNG KIKPE no. 690), which is mentioned in the Athenian Tribute Lists as contributing 1,000 drachmas for 417/6 and 416/5 BCE. The British Museum Catalogue lists one single bronze coin of this mint, while SNG KIKPE 698 shows a second, different coin, apparently a unique piece, which first appeared in an auction of a major island collection in 1991 and then
again 2007. It shows a female head on the obverse and a butting bull on its reverse, and the fine style of engraving suggests that this series was produced by accomplished

In recent years, scholars such as Richard Ashton, Koray Konuk, and Fabrice Delrieux have re-examined the bronze coinages of Caria and its surrounding area in western Asia Minor. As more bronze coins are now offered in auctions, both online and in printed auctions, it
has become easier to collect bronze coins. In the KIKPE collection, quite a few of these rarities have found a home. An example is coin no. 894, given to Kranaos (?) in Caria. A small series of coins with a facing Helios head and a bunch of grapes, accompanied by the inscription KRAN, has been attributed by Alan Walker in 1978 (SM 112, 1978, 86–88) to the obscure town of Kranaos, near Antioch on the Maeander. Richard Ashton, in an important article on early Carian and Lycian bronze coins (NC 2006, 1–14), convincingly argued, based on local find spots of these types of coins, that the mint was more likely to be situated on the inner end of the Ceramic Gulf. As Ashton points out, there is no ancient town known which begins with the letters KRAN, which makes the attribution to an uncertain mint less attractive for a cataloguer, but undoubtedly more accurate for an ancient historian.

In the last two decades, the number of known coins of Thracian and Scythian rulers have increased enormously, and this collection has some beautiful specimens. There are two coins of Sadalas in this collection (nos. 371 and 372, though the index gives only 371), an
extremely rare series; only six pieces are listed in Coin Archives. The coin shows a beautiful ruler’s head, but it is not clear which King Sadalas this is. It is generally
assumed that there were three kings of this name in the first century BCE. A King Sadalas is mentioned in Cicero’s speeches Against Verres as an ally of Cornelius Sulla in his war against Mithradates VI at the battle of Chaeronea. The small bronze coins with an attractive portrait of the king with diadem are ascribed to a second king of this name, who supported Pompey at the battle of Pharsalos in the Roman civil war in 48 BCE. Equally rare is a bronze coin of Skilouros/Scilurus (no. 387), whose palace and mausoleum were at Neapolis in the Chersonesos, although his coins appear to have been minted at Olbia. From the excavations at Neapolis, it seems likely that he reigned from c. 140 to 114/3 BCE.
When reading the catalogue, one is astonished to find many interesting bronze coins from old collections. No. 345 is a rare coin of Thasos from the R.C. Lockett collection, which shows a bust of Demeter and jugate busts of the Dioscuri; it is double-struck, which makes the reverse very appealing, as it appears as if there are three or four heads of the young heroes lined up one after the other. A beautiful coin of Madytos (no. 337) in Thrace,
with butting bull and a seated dog, once had a home in the collections of Lord Grantley and Lockett.

A few words about the book itself: the photos of the coins are truly outstanding, and the publishers should be congratulated on an excellent printing job. Beyond the quality of the illustrations, the cataloguing of this collection is superb. Vassilike Pennas and Yannis Stoyas took on a demanding task in writing a Sylloge of this collection of bronze coins. The bronze coinage of the entire “Greek” world is the subject of this collection, and there are an unusual number of very rare coins, for which references in standard works such as SNG
Copenhagen or BMC are hard to find. Online resources such as the ANS coin database MANTIS were used, and it is laudable that references to rare coins found in online catalogues are referenced with accession numbers. The bibliography has over 350 titles, and there are some real discoveries here even for seasoned numismatists.

Yannis Stoyas has published a couple of interesting articles based on his findings when writing this Sylloge, which illustrates that good cataloguing is often serious research (in Studia in honorem Iliae Prokopov, 2012, 143–186). His long discussion of the deeply mysterious coin with a bucranium on the obverse and a fish with the inscription MELSA gives a fascinating overview of a series which occupied the late Martin Price and his assistant for several days when the coin, which is today in the KIKPE collection, was handed it to the British Museum for an opinion by ANS Fellow Frank Kovacs in the early 1990s. Price would have been very interested in the new evidence that has come to light in
Bulgaria over the last two decades, although we are still in the dark about its mint. Despite considerable efforts, there are four “incerti”, uncertain coins left at the end of the book, which could not be identified to a mint. One of them (no.1232), with a female head and a bee, is a coin of the Cretan city of Aptera, as my colleague Dr. Vassiliki Stefanaki, one of the leading specialists in this series, pointed out to me.

SNG KIKPE shows how little we know ultimately about the extent of Greek bronze coins, which still somehow lead a shadowy existence next to the silver coins of Greek mints. Similar to fractional silver, bronze coins are much less well researched, partly because hoard evidence is often not plentiful and die studies are difficult. Their importance for the monetary history of the late Classical and Hellenistic economies is only beginning to emerge. With increased archaeological activities and published reports of find-spots of coins, scholars will be able to understand what bronze coins contributed to the ancient
economy. Koray Konuk has recently published an article about early Ionian bronze coins of the late fifth century BCE, in which he offers an attractive hypothesis for these early, obol-sized bronzes as tokens for silver obols, which could be redeemed against silver. Publications such as SNG KIKPE will inspire more research in this area. In the meantime, we can all hope that the second volume of SNG KIKPE will appear soon, but for now I must congratulate the authors for a job well done.

ANS Members can purchase the volume directly from the ANS at a special member price of $99 plus shipping. Regular price for non-members is $119. The usual ANS discount of 30% for members does not apply to this book, which was not published by the ANS.

ANS Bookshelf: Colonial Riches (Fall 2013)

by Oliver Hoover

This fall sees an exciting new pair of titles published by the ANS in the field of US Colonial coinage. As William Sheldon eloquently put it in Penny Whimsy, “Old copper, like beauty, appears to possess a certain intrinsic quality or charm… [with] an almost living warmth and personality not encountered in any other metal….You see rich shades of green, red, brown, yellow, and even deep ebony: together not elsewhere matched in nature save perhaps in autumn leaves…. Early coppers are rich in die varieties, cracked dies,
imperfect and unusual planchets, misstruck coins and other minor variations…. It is therefore not surprising that to some extent the different die varieties are recognizable
by characteristic color and surface texture, as well as by die breaks, peculiarities of the planchet and so on.”

In their authoritative new book, New Jersey State Coppers, History, Description, Collecting, Roger Siboni, Jack Howes, and Buell Ish show that these words were
never more true than in the case of the coins struck for New Jersey by Thomas Goadsby, Albion Cox, Walter Mould, and Matthias Ogden from 1786 until as late as 1790. By way of introduction, they fully discuss the often tumultuous history of the New Jersey copper
coinage and its creators alongside the equally compelling story of the men, like Dr. Edward Maris, who first appreciated the “living warmth and personality” of the coins and formed the great collections of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Every known New
Jersey die variety is presented in minute detail with lavish enlarged full-color illustrations, condition censuses, as well as commentary on die states and other notable features.

The authors also include such supplementary material as the original documents related to the eighteenth century coining venture, imitations created for the collector market in the nineteenth century, as well as suggestions for developing a personal collection. New
Jersey State Coppers will surely become the primary tool for the study of this coinage and the basis for deepening the understanding and appreciation of its charm as old copper. No serious collector will want to be without a copy.

No less important is the new book by Phillip Mossman, which takes as its focus not one coinage or currency, but rather the entire phenomenon of counterfeiting in the pre-Federal period. From Crime to Punishment: Counterfeit and Debased Currencies in
Colonial and Pre-federal America traces the origins of debased and counterfeit coinage from its beginnings to its arrival on these shores. It shows how currency debasement was not confined to the proletariat since throughout history various monarchs increased their
royal revenues, or seigniorage, by reducing the quality of the coins’ specie content or its weight standard. Mossman follows closely the course of royal English copper coinages whose high potential profit made them an ideal prey for counterfeiters. These forgeries
flowed freely into the colonies where they overwhelmed, and eventually collapsed, the small change medium, but not before various states sought to correct the evil of this imported copper trash.

The author turns the spotlight on Great Britain’s mercantilistic policies which shaped the character of the currency in the North American colonies where chronic hard money shortages encouraged counterfeit coinages of all stripes, whose actual manufacture and
circulation is examined in great detail. Colonists further sought to expand their monetary pool by printing bills of credit to meet the exigencies of the French and Indian Wars. This new paper currency likewise became the target for forgery and a battle royal ensued between the colonial treasurers and bands of counterfeiters as they competed to outsmart each other. But as “the weed of crime bears bitter fruit,” many counterfeiters were apprehended and punished for their evil deeds.

Although focused on the problems of early America, this book will be of interest to serious students and collectors of all periods, since none were immune from the phenomena it describes. Both books have been printed in full color. They will be available from September 1st and can be ordered directly from the ANS website, where an order form
can also be downloaded for printing.

Board and Fellow Nominations (Fall 2013)

The Nominating and Governance Committee, pursuant to Art. V Sec. 12 of the ANS By-Laws approved for publication all of the nominees as follows:

The following Trustee candidates have been nominated for a three-year Term ending in 2016 for vote by the Fellows of the Society at the October 19, 2013
Annual Meeting:

Dr. Lawrence A. Adams, Studio City, CA, a dermatologic oncology surgeon, Dr. Adams is a CNG consultant on Greek and Islamic gold. Dr. Adams has been a Member since 1982, a Fellow since 1997 and a Trustee since 2001. He serves on the Finance and Collections
Committees, is an ABSS Member, and is a generous contributor to the Society.

Dr. Keith M. Barron, Haute-Nendaz, Switzerland, is an entrepreneur and exploration geologist in the mining sector. He holds a Ph.D. in Geology from the University of Western Ontario. He is President and CEO of Aurania Resources Ltd., the founder and a Director of South American uranium explorer U3O8 Corp., a Director of Firestone Ventures, and a Director of Kimber Resources Inc. Dr. Barron received the Thayer Lindsley International
Discovery Award at the PDAC 2008 convention, for his role in the discovery of Fruta del Norte, and he was jointly named the Northern Miner’s Mining Man of the Year 2008.

Mr. Richard M. Beleson, San Francisco, CA, Retired as Senior Vice President with the Capital Group Companies. He has been collecting coins for over forty years, and has an extensive collection of ancient coins, as well as shipwreck coins. Mr. Beleson has been a Member since 1995, Life Member since 1998, a Trustee since 2010, an ABSS Member since 2006, and is a generous donor to the Society.

Mr. Jeffrey D Benjamin, New York, NY, is currently a Senior Advisor to Cyrus Capital Management and is Chairman of the Board of Spectrum Group Intl Inc. Mr. Benjamin is also a director of Exco Resources, Inc. and Chemtura Corporation. He became a life
member in 2004, was elected to the Board in 2007 and became Treasurer in 2012.

Dr. Andrew M. Burnett, London, UK, Deputy Director of the British Museum 2002–2013, studied Ancient History and Philosophy at Balliol College in Oxford; received his MA from Oxford (1979), and his PhD at the University of London. He is author, co-author or editor
of more than 25 books and more than 100 articles and book reviews principally in the field of Roman and Roman Provincial numismatics, and has been an ANS Member since 1982. Among his many distinctions is the ANS’s 2007 Archer M. Huntington Award for excellence in Numismatic Scholarship; he was appointed a CBE in the New Year’s Honors of 2012, and is the President of the Royal Numismatic Society.

Ms. Beth Deisher, Sylvania, OH, became an ANS Member in 1983, and was elected a Fellow in 1991. From 1985–2012 she was editor of Coin World, and is the author or primary editor of 10 books, the most recent of which is Cash In Your Coins: Selling the Rare Coins You’ve Inherited, (June 2013). She is the recipient of the 2010 ANA Farran Zerbe Memorial Award the Numismatic Literary Guild’s Clemy Award (1995) and
the Burnett Anderson Memorial Award for journalistic excellence (2006).

Mr. Mike Gasvoda, Crown Point, IN, has been collecting coins for 38 years, and has a specialized collection of Roman Imperatorial and twelve Caesars coinage. An ANS Member since 1996, Mr. Gasvoda was elected to the Board of Trustees in 2010. He chairs the Personnel Committee, serves on the Development Committee, and is an ABSS Member.

Prof. Kenneth W. Harl, New Orleans, LA , was a 1975 Eric P. Newman Graduate Summer Seminar student and joined the Society that same year. A Fellow since 1991, he was first elected to the Board Trustees in 2001, and serves on the Collections Committee. A Professor of History at Tulane University, Prof. Harl has written extensively about Roman provincial coins and in particular Asia Minor.

Mr. Larry Schwimmer, Mountainview, CA, is a software engineer. An ANS Life Member since 2011, he is a supporter of ANS programs and Library.

Pursuant to Article III, Section 1. The Nominating and Governance Committee nominates the following individuals to serve as Fellows for vote by the Trustees at their October 19, 2013, Regular Meeting:

Mr. Leonard Augsburger, Vernon Hills, IL, an ANS Member since 2001, his numismatic interests include North American, and Colonial American coinage, about which he has written numerous articles. Prof. Martin Beckmann, Hamilton, Ontario Canada, was a participant in the ANS’s 1999 Eric P. Newman Graduate Summer Seminar program, and an ANS Member since 2009. He is an Assistant Professor at Classics at McMaster University, and author of the ANS 2012 publication Diva Faustina, Coinage and Cult in
Rome and the Provinces.

Dr. David F. Fanning, Gahanna, OH, holds a Ph.D. in English Literature from the Ohio State University. A partner of Kolbe and Fanning LLC, Numismatic Book Sellers—their 2010 auction of ANS Library duplicates, realized over $50,000 for the Society. He has been an ANS Member since 2000, serves as a board member of the Numismatic Bibliomania Society, and has published widely on numismatic literature, North American colonial coins, medals, U.S. federal coins and other topics.

Dr. Ursula Kampmann, Lörrach, Germany, has been an ANS Member since 1995. She has authored and co-authored articles and reviews on a wide variety of numismatic topics including: Roman Provincial coinage, detecting counterfeits, legalities of the coin trade,
coinage of Olympia and Elis from the fifth century BC to the second century AD. She is the editor of Münzenwoche, a German online news publication on coins.

Dr. Hubert Lanz, Munich, Germany, an ANS Member since 1982, a Life Member since 1996, has been a strong supporter of ANS collections and programs including the ANS Eric P. Newman Graduate Summer Seminar, and the ANS Annual Dinner Galas. Dr. Lanz is the
owner of Numismatik Lanz München, a specialized auction house devoted to rare coins and medals.

Mr. Brent Pogue, Corona del Mar, CA, has been an ANS Member since 2000, an active ABSS Member since 2005, and is a major supporter of the ANS Annual Appeals, and Library Cataloguer fund. A plaque in his honor was added to the Library donor wall in 2012.

Dr. Dimitris G. Portolos, Athens, Greece, has been an ANS Member since 1974. His numismatic interests include coins issued by Macedonian kings, Greek cities and coins that were in circulation during the Classical and Hellenistic periods in Chalkidiki.

Mr. Hadrien Rambach, London, UK, is a supporter of ANS through the Annual Galas and Auctions, and has been an ANS Life Member since 2012. Specializing in antiquity and ancient art, he is a private advisor to several collectors of ancient coins, medals and antiquarian books. He has published essays in academic journals, and is a member of the Syndicat de la Presse Artistique Française, the Société Française de Numismatique,
the Royal Numismatic Society, and the British Numismatic Society.

Mr. Sydney Rothstein, New York, NY, has been an ANS Member since 1974 and is a generous donor to the ANS Asian collection.

Dr. Alan S. Walker, Langnau am Albis, Switzerland, is a long-time ANS Member (1966), an academic with a doctorate in Classical Archaeology from the University of Pennsylvania, he is the director of NOMOS AG, Zurich.

Dr. Thomas D. Wooldridge, Tupelo MS, An ANS Member since 1987, is a consistent contributor to the ANS’s Annual Appeal drives. Dr. Wooldridge’s numismatic interests include Islamic, Latin America, Medieval, Modern and Roman coinage.

Submitted respectfully,
Robert A. Kandel, Chairman,
Nominating and Governance Committee

This information can be found on the Governance page of the ANS website:

Obituary: Richard George Doty (1942-2013)

On June 2, our world of numismatics lost one of its fin- est citizens, and I lost a beloved colleague. With great sadness I pen words in honor of my friend Dick Doty—or, as he sometimes impishly called himself, with me following suit, Don Floribundo Sanchez Muldoon. Where and how can I start? Who was this extraordinary man, and why do we care and mourn for him?

Dick was born January 11, 1942, the only child of George Barney Doty and Angeline Charlotte (Petersen) Doty, in St. John’s, Oregon (at the time, a suburb of Portland), where he grew up and went to school. A Doty ancestor had voyaged to New England on the May- flower, and the family had lived the history of America, but although they were both very intelligent (from his father, Dick inherited his photographic memory), Dick’s parents had only high school educations; the Dotys struggled financially, living in poverty, unable to afford medical care. Their boy developed an attitude, in which he was encouraged, of ignoring personal health. He worked picking crops in the summer–taken to the fields by trucks, early in the mornings—and labored in a mill alongside his textile-worker father until George Doty was laid off. Dick learned to have a great distaste for economic exploitation and the hardships it created. He was a strong supporter of down-trodden people everywhere, of unions, picketlines and freedom of expression, and an opponent of the excesses of the capitalistic business world.

While from his father’s hard experience Dick learned about textiles and manufacturing technology and perseverance, from his mother, he picked up an eye for style and presentation. Of the utmost importance in his life, however, was the influence of his dedicated high school teacher, Parimaz Onan Marsubian, a leftist Armenian whose immigrant family had fled the Turk- ish holocaust. Marsubian believed in Dick. His teaching gifts supported the boy’s aspirations toward learning and convinced him not to drop out of school to join the merchant marine; he taught him to believe in himself and to achieve, and got him a scholarship for going to college. Dick then made his way to Portland State University, where he became a magna cum laude history graduate (1964), subsequently obtaining his doctorate summa cum laude in Latin American Studies at the University of Southern California in 1968.


During his career, Doty was widely recognized for his knowledge and abilities, and received a number of honors and awards. These included an academic Fulbright Fellowship to the University of Madrid, Spain; Mexican Government Fellowships for study in Mexico City and Guadalajara; the Del Amo Foundation Fellowship for research in Spain and the Millennial Award Medal of the Royal Numismatic Society. In 2012, Dick was awarded the Archer M. Huntington medal of the Amer- ican Numismatic Society, its highest honor for publications, in recognition of his scholarly achievements in
his chosen field.

From about the age of eight years Dick enjoyed a passion for coins and knew he wanted to travel. These early keys were to open doors to a distinguished career. Prior to becoming a numismatic curator, Doty was Assistant Professor of United States and Latin History and Studies, Central College, Pella, Iowa (1967-70); Assistant Professor of Latin American and World History, York College, City University of New York (1970-71); and Assistant Professor of United States and Latin American History at the University of Guam (1971-73). From 1974 to 1986 Doty served as Curator of the Modern Coins and Currency Department at the American Numismatic Society, in New York City, where he was mentored by retired curator Henry Grunthal. At the ANS, Doty was instrumental in documenting and cataloguing large portions of the cabinet and, in cooperation with visionary president Harry W. Bass, Jr., initiating computer registration while also helping to found the Coinage of the Americas Conference program.

In 1986, Doty was hired as Curator of Western Hemisphere Numismatics at the National Numismatic Collection (NNC) of the Smithsonian Institution, in Washington, D.C., and in 2005 was named Senior Curator in charge. He gained recognition as an expert in many fields of numismatic research, particularly in Early American coinage, obsolete banknotes, mint production and errors, Mexican issues, British tokens, and the entire process of the industrialization of money. A founding member of ICOMON, the International Committee for Money and Banking Museums, part of the International Council of Museums (ICOM), under UNESCO, from 1998 to 2007 he served as its President and edited its bulletin. He traveled widely in this connection, greatly enjoying his contacts and sharing with foreign colleagues.

I knew Dick for many years, almost as long as I have been professionally involved with numismatic curation, but I got to know him more fully when, for its centennial celebration in 1991, the American Numismatic Association (I was at the time Curator in charge of
the ANA’s Money Museum) launched a kind of game show called the “World Series of Numismatics,” and required me to be a participant. The competition was to be organized into panels of three, and I was instructed to get two brave souls to join me. This seemed a pain- fully equivocal activity for scholars, and I wondered, “what to do?” I invited two outstanding colleagues to be my teammates–Alan Stahl, Curator of Medieval Coins and of Medals at the American Numismatic Society and Richard Doty, then Curator of the Smithsonian’s National Numismatic Collection, who rose to the occasion. Our team’s name? “The Curators.” This event actually turned out to be somewhat fun, especially whereas we happened rather handily to have won!

Over the following years, Dick and I shared many activities and conversations, often involving international numismatic conferences (we were roommates in Norway until my snoring overcame Dick ’s rest!). I got to know him as a genuinely kind and sincere man with a delightful and effervescent sense of humor.

When I called him on the phone, I might get a recording such as “This is Frank James, brother of Jessie; Doty the human who lives with us cats is not avail- able. Please leave us a message. Meow!” Sometimes he composed and sang parodies of many different songs. He had an ear for languages, and would frequently chatter in various funny foreign accents. Often it was as a Latvian, Lithuania, Indian or Mexican that we might find him masquerading on his answering machine, or advocating on behalf of “People for the Ethical Treatment of Vegetables.”

A wonderfully generous and devoted friend, Dick was sincerely religious, but not in a conventional way. He could not believe in a critical, restrictive supernatural being, but had been raised a Southern Baptist (his father once had a job working as an Anglican sexton, and wrote a monograph called Life among the Episcopalians), prayed daily, practiced Transcendental Meditation, and felt he was under special protection from God. Several times in his life he had nearly died: once, for instance, while beachcombing and almost being drowned by a rapidly rising tide, and once, especially, when in 1998 he was hit by an SUV while walking–resulting in a double hematoma on the frontal lobes. He stopped breathing, was revived, remained for several weeks in a coma but made an amazingly full recovery (with the exception of his sense of smell). He ruefully referred to this incident as “the time I died.” A subsequent insurance settlement enabled him to purchase a VW cabriolet, quite an indulgence for a frugal curator! (He delighted in convertibles!)
Doty was a many-faceted genius with a great eye for color, an intuitive gift for music, and a sense of poetical expression. He once made and sold large, fancy candles; at other times, he enjoyed print-making and became skilled in photography, developing artistic abstractions which he skillfully crafted. He appreciated many kinds of foods, and deeply missed the sense of smell following his serious accident. For many years he also enjoyed smoking, but, abruptly, simply decided to quit. He felt that it was possible to accomplish almost anything by “sheer bloody-mindedness,” as he put it–referring to his great willpower. Matrimony took Dick to the altar four times (with wives Joyce, Caroline and Margaret, and, lastly, the joy of his final years, Cindi Roden). He was a strikingly unusual, stubborn man, and must at times have been difficult to live with, great as were his fine qualities. Sometimes, alas, he and I shared our less than happy experiences as divorced numismatists.

Like his numismatic co-fraternity, Doty had been bitten by the “collecting bug,” and as an adjunct to his research on the Soho mint of Mathew Boulton and James Watt, he formed an impressive collection of British 18th century Trade Tokens. His numismatic collecting interests, however, were wide-ranging and in spite of working with the vast and wonderful collections of the ANS and the Smithsonian, he still enjoyed picking up the occasional anomalous numismatic curiosity or beauty to beguile his private life! He liked taking drives in the country, and loved animals, too; in addition to his history with cherished cats—Frank, et al.—he and Cindi adopted and adored Lucas, their black Labrador retriever.

Studying and writing about numismatics was a pure joy for Dick. He felt he could envision no other life for himself. While his researches and achievements in the field were many, I think he will be best remembered for his insights into the ways in which peoples of the past imagined numismatic materials into their own lives, into the impacts that they experienced through con- tact with day-to-day monetary transactions. Dick was fascinated by the technological and sociological aspects of monetary production, as evidenced by the thrust of his publications. A number of these clearly demonstrate both his vision and his writing skills. In his first important work, Studies on money in early America (New York: American Numismatic Society, 1976), which he edited along with the now legendary Eric P. Newman, he wrote on the technical minting aspects of the first coinages of what is now the United States, the Boston mint silver issues of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, sug- gesting the methodology adopted by coiners John Hull and Robert Sanderson. In perhaps his most authoritative opus, The Soho mint and the industrialization of money, British Numismatic Society special publication no. 2 (London: National Museum of American History, Smithsonian Institution, in association with Spink Ltd. and the British Numismatic Society, 1998), he explained the relationships of money in the context of Boulton and Watt’s extraordinary mechanization of coinage production in the Industrial Revolution.

Much of Doty’s life was devoted to service, to colleagues, to institutions, to visiting researchers to whom he cheerfully and generously conveyed his time and his enthusiasm. In 1991, he authored the North American Section of the International Numismatic Commission’s Survey of numismatic research, 1985-1990, a valuable
if relatively thankless task. His interests and knowledge ranged far and wide, and his writing, into multiple languages. Some examples are Hispano-Arabic coins in the National Numismatic Collection (Smithsonian Institution), in Actas III, Jarique de Numismática Hispano-Arabe (Madrid, Spain: Museo Arqueológico, 1990), and Tecnologia numismatica e sovranità politica: il caso di Modena, in the Bolletino di Numismatica, Vol. 30-31, Serie I, gennaio-dicembre (1998).

In addition to technological studies, Doty wrote extensively on Mexican coinage issues and on the paper currencies of the American Confederacy, along with surveys of American and British coins and tokens. Articles under his name frequently appeared in such popular publications as COINage, Coin World, World Coin News, Mexican Revolution Reporter, and The Numismatist, as well as frequent entries in the ANS Museum Notes, American Journal of Numismatics, and volumes of the Coinage of the Americas Conference (COAC) Proceedings. Altogether, Doty may perhaps be best known for his Macmillan encyclopedic dictionary of numismatics (New York: Macmillan Publishing Co., 1982), which exemplifies his literally encyclopedic grasp of this subject area.

His last work, Pictures From a Distant Country: Seeing America Through Old Paper Money (Atlanta: Whitman Publishing Co., 2013), is a brilliant, nostalgic tour-de-force surveying the bygone world of the 19th century United States in the exquisite vignettes of obsolete currency. It can easily carry us into the thinking and imagining not only of those who made and used those monetary instruments, but that of the keen and com- passionate mind of the author.

In many ways, Dick Doty was my mentor. I shall miss him very much. I thank Cindi Roden for her help to me with background information on Dick and his life. In thinking of him as I write these lines, I have to say that I can do no better than to echo his own words spoken in recognition of his marvelous teacher, P. O. Marsupian,“I haven’t come to terms with his death, and I don’t suppose I ever shall. He was simply too big to disappear.”

–Robert Wilson Hoge