Chapter 5

To discover what property it was that gave this metal its early preference, it will be necessary to trace the survival of similar views and feelings farther than we have ourselves consciously prolonged them. It is to be observed that among the Turks and other Oriental people, amber and yellow gems like the topaz, still enjoy a pre-eminence in popular favor. These substances are still supposed to possess magical power always beneficent. Among the Chinese, yellow is both sacred and it is associated with the dignity of imperial rank. Yellow is the color of the royal standard, and a yellow sash distinguishes a member of the royal family. Robes of state are of the same color. And this appropriation of yellow to certain sacred or governmental uses is not confined to China. It is common through the East. The farther back we trace the idea of special sacredness in color, the more exclusively do we see this confined to yellow. This was long saved from vulgar uses and associations. It had a significance to the ancients, such as it does not have to us. There was a fitness in their decorating the temples and the statues of the gods with gold, and silver, and ivory, and amber, and gems. These offerings symbolized light, and light stood for the happier destinies of man,--for the milder and gentler influences which lead to good; while darkness typified malignant powers of evil. There was the same distinction conceived of between life and death. White victims were offered to the gods of Olympus, while for sacrifice to the gods of the under-world black victims were selected.

Gold shines with the brightest and the warmest glow of any of the metals, and its brilliancy and lustre are not tarnished by corrosion. To the Oriental fancy it typified the genial light of day. To the fire-worshipper it was a fit emblem of his faith. Fire was originally sacred, perhaps, only as the representative of the sun; and this luminary was later spiritualized in the idea of Apollo. Gold was sacred as far as this worship was spread, from India to the North of Europe, and the great demand for it for sacred uses gave the metal much of its preciousness in the markets of the world. It was worn by the living and was buried with the dead; so that if humanity had not refined its conception of the divine, it would have come to be the case at length that every particle of gold in the soil would have had mortal ashes sleeping beside it.

Gold and silver were rendered sacred and precious in early times by being devoted to purposes of worship. The temples were the safe places of deposit, and in these were hoarded the treasures of the world. Partly from this circumstance it became the case that when gold and silver were first coined, the temples were the mints, and the earliest mint-masters were the priests. Naturally, the devices stamped upon the coins issued under such auspices would be sacred emblems. We find them such from whatever source they came. There was sound policy in this course, as well as good reason for it. If coins were to circulate among people who had previously been accustomed to paying out and receiving the precious metals by actual weight, it was necessary to have the value of these pieces certified to in the most solemn manner. To this end the effigies of the gods, together with the tokens of their attributes and sacred offices, were stamped upon the coin. If we could trace coinage to its earliest use, perhaps to its origin, among the people who lived about the Ægean Sea, it would not be unreasonable to expect to find that at first gold coin was issued under the patronage of Apollo, that silver bore the stamp of Zeus, and that copper coins were dedicated to Aphrodite, as the nearest representative among Greek divinities of that Phoenician goddess who presided over trade in the ports and markets of the East. But among the coins that remain--and some of these are shown to be of early date, they are so rude in execution--we do not find this distinction kept. It is certain that at an early period the emblems of the several divinities were mixed, apparently with a view to giving a more weighty sanction to the stamp impressed upon the coin.

The earlier Greek coins were struck by hand. A single die was employed in the process, so that an impression of device or of legend appeared only on one side. The other side bore an indent which is known as the punch-mark. This mark is commonly a square figure divided into four smaller squares by lines resembling somewhat a right cross. It is the indent of the spike in the anvil on which the ball of metal was laid when being struck. Later, the coins were made thinner, and were struck with double dies. From that time both sides of the coin received an impression. The upper side continued to show the greatest care. As this side always bore the head of the god under whose auspices the coin was to be issued, it was called the obverse or face of the piece. The opposite side was the reverse. So long as coins continued to be struck by hand, there was no fixed relative position for the two impressions. Coins were always printed as though they were turned horizontally from left to right. They still continue to be so printed, and we go on in the practice of speaking of the reverse of coins, even when we are discussing those of our own coinage; but the fact is that ever since American coins were stamped in the mint the impressions on the two sides bear a certain fixed relation. In passing from the obverse of our coins to the examination of the opposite side, we do this by inverting the piece. That side would then properly be called the inverse of the coin, and it would, with equal propriety be printed directly beneath its obverse.

The shape of early coins is by no means uniform. There is one peculiarity of the coins of Boeotia and Macedonia, as well as of many colonies of these states, which is worthy of some attention. It may indicate how it came about that the round disk is now the prevailing form. The coins of these two Greek states in particular were for a long period concavo-convex disks, the convex side being in all instances the obverse. It has been suggested, by way of accounting for this form, that it secured a more perfect impression of the upper die, which always struck the obverse. It may be the case that a better impression was gained on that side, but an examination will show that the designer and engraver spared nothing of art or of skill upon the reverses. These are executed with a care and vigor equal to that of the obverse, and are struck with equal success. The concave shape preserved the reverse from wear, and made it an object for both artist and artisan to put good work on this side. It is more in accordance with the Greek way of looking at things, to account for this shape on other ground than that of expediency. It is more likely than otherwise, that this form is emblematic. The ancient buckler was of this form. Of such a figure was the escutcheon of these states. Boeotia adopted for hers the shield of Herakles, and Macedonia that of Ares. What tends strongly to confirm this view, that the buckler was the model for the coin, is the fact that for a long time Macedonian coins were finished upon the obverse, in imitation of the national shield. This is to be seen in the decoration of the border, even on coins that were struck long after Macedonia had become a Roman province. May it not be the case that the buckler served as model for the circular disk?

As Greek coins were issued under the sanction of some god, it was natural that they should go out from his temple bearing his effigy and the symbols of his worship. Apollo succeeded to the early worship paid the sun and fire. He was the god of light and beauty. In his honor gold coins should originally have been struck, and they should bear his emblems. It will be of service to see what some of these were. This god was, on the whole, beneficent, as the influences of the sun are kindly, but he inflicted plagues by shooting his poisoned arrows among the people, just as the heat of the sun engenders deadly fevers. We have retained a trace of the old feeling, as our language betrays where consciousness utterly fails. We attribute certain sudden attacks of illness to _sunstroke_. That word "stroke" brings vividly before us the smiting of the Greek camp on the plain before Troy. Representing the sun, as Apollo did, the head of this god often appears radiated upon coins, particularly upon the coins of Rhodes. This was as the poets were wont to describe him. Catullus alludes to his flashing eyes,--"_radiantibus oculis_." Tibullus speaks of him as this youth having his temples bound with sacred laurel--"_hic juvenis casta redimitus tempora lauro_" The use of the laurel was reserved to this god, and in times of primitive Greek and Roman piety it was allowed to men only whose successful general would celebrate a triumph. The palm-branch is also connected with the worship of this god, in allusion to the sacred palm-tree under which Leta gave birth to him and to Artemis. The rays, the laurel, and the palm are the symbols of Apollo upon our coins. Other nations have employed the bow, the lyre, and the tripod, with many more equally familiar symbols.

The coinage of silver belonged peculiarly to Zeus, the god of the thunderbolt. The question arises at once, Was there fancied a resemblance between the whiteness of this metal and dazzling brightness of the flash of lightning? However that question may be answered, there remains the fact that the thunderbolt was a symbol of the power of Zeus, and its figure uniformly accompanied the effigy of the god. Ovid speaks of Zeus as of one whose hand is armed with three-forked fires,--

_"Cui deutra trisulces Ignibus armata est."_

It is worth while to give this emblem some little study. It is represented under three varieties of one general form. We first find it a bundle of flames wreathed closely together in the form of a double cone. It is then a token of peace. Zeus is always seated when bearing this, and it is held downward. Under its second form the thunderbolt consists of a similar double cone, only it is elongated and pointed. This cone is crossed obliquely by two zigzag flashes of lightning, terminating at either end in arrow-points. Later forms of this symbol have the forward end the same, but the other end is wrought into an ornamental and somewhat arborescent head. This form with the lightning flashes is always borne uplifted, and by the god standing in readiness to hurl the bolt. This is the form we are to look for in connection with the worship of Zeus. The third form is of rare occurrence in literature and art.

Another emblem of the Olympian god, more familiar even than the thunderbolt, is the eagle. Æschylus calls this bird "the winged hound of Zeus." This conception of the poet ruled in art as well as in literature. It was the popular idea of divine vengeance following and punishing guilt that sought concealment. Open impiety drew down upon the offender's head the flashing thunderbolt. A comparative examination of a few coins will help towards interpreting this symbolism. For this purpose the coins of Elis will serve best. Here was Olympia, with its famous temple of Zeus, and here were celebrated the great national Olympian games in honor of the god. Certainly if any part of Greece was more sacred to Zeus than the rest, that part was Elis. Its coins are covered with his symbols. Three types of about 371 B.C. form a group of especial interest. The first of these has, obverse, an eagle tearing a ram, on a shield; reverse, a thunderbolt. Second, obverse, an eagle tearing a serpent; reverse, a thunderbolt. Third, obverse, an eagle tearing a hare; reverse, a winged thunderbolt. Here the identity is sufficiently close to bring these examples under one description. They seem to commemorate the just punishment of some enemies of Elis, or, possibly, the deserved penalty for some wrong done Zeus himself. It would not be easy at this late day to make sure what people or persons may have been indicated by the ram, the serpent, and the hare. The obverse in each case tells the story of the event so far as we can read the story, and the reverse invariably confirms the tenor and spirit of the same. This harmony between the two sides of the coin may be traced throughout ancient coinage, proving that it was of a medallic character. Other coins of Elis are of a peaceful character, and it is of interest to see how the emblems are managed upon these. One has, obverse, head of eagle; reverse, thunderbolt within a wreath. Another, obverse, head of Hera; reverse, eagle standing in wreath. A third, obverse, head of Olympia; reverse, eagle within olive-wreath. It will be observed that the reverse does not in these instances bear the symbols as before, upon an open field, but the field is now enclosed by a wreath. The import of this seems to have been about the same as that of the drawn sword and the sheathed sword in modern heraldic designs. Still other examples will show not only the harmony between obverse and reverse, but how coins were dedicated to more than one divinity. This practice was at first more common in the colonies than in the metropolitan cities. A coin of Crotona of about 479 B.C. has, obverse, eagle perched on the cornice of a temple; reverse, tripod and olive-spray. It would seem likely that this piece was first dedicated to Zeus, and next to Apollo. Zeus often holds the eagle on his hand as falcons were held in the days of hawking, and he is then called the eagle-holder (_exetophoros_). When so represented, the god is commonly seated as at peace; but there is one coin of Messene which shows him holding the bird while he is standing and thundering. Later coins show combinations which are particularly interesting in connection with the symbolism of our own coins. One of the best of these is a Macedonian coin of the time of Perseus--obverse, head of Perseus; reverse, an eagle on a thunderbolt, within a wreath of oak. In connection with this example should be examined a Roman gold coin of about 269 B.C.--obverse, head of Mars; reverse, an eagle holding in its talons a thunderbolt. This type of reverse has been pretty closely copied by designers for our mint.

The coins of Athens may have furnished the original for the olive-wreath so common on American coins. They were issued under the auspices of Athene, and bore upon the obverse the head of the goddess. The reverse regularly bore the owl and the olive-bough. These coins were familiarly called owls, just as we speak of eagles in our currency, and just as the English talked of angels and crosses in the time of Elizabeth. Aristophanes jocosely calls the Athenian pieces owls of Laurium, in allusion to the gold mines there, in which they were hatched.

It would be of interest to trace these heraldic devices through the intervening ages, and along the devious ways by which they have come down to the present. This task would lead one far afield in history. In the hasty glance just now given to the coins of Greece, we have found material that will help to an understanding of what is impressed upon the coins of our own country. There would be no less of propriety and pertinence in asking what significance these symbols have brought to us from the time they were struck in faith and in awe by the very shrines of the gods in the temples of Greece. We may say that these symbols have no significance for us; but centuries hence, when the beginnings of our government are no longer a memory with the people, historians will relate with what instructive readiness the founders of our government, finding these colonies free and independent states, turned to the colonies and states of Greece for a model upon which to mould a nation; and they will find in early American coinage full confirmation of this view. The very same influence was manifested in the architecture of America for the first half of this century, as many a public edifice, and even private houses, sufficiently prove.

Before examining any particular coin, it may be worth the while to notice a few of the more prominent features of our American types. The most striking of all is the absence of portrait heads. There is good reason for this. The theory of our government is, that it is but the collective will of the people. Again, since the invention of printing, there is longer reason in giving coins a medallic character. This function of coinage has been perpetuated in Germany. A _Sieges-Thaler_ was struck after the Franco-Prussian War of 1870. There were a few portrait heads of Washington upon coins struck under his administration; but the practice ended there. It is said that the head upon some of our later coins is a portrait. If so, its American type is not recognizable. The head, whenever it appears upon the obverse of our coins, is Greek in outline and expression. This is so strongly the character of the features, that even where an attempt has been made to secure a distinctly American type, as in the case of the three-dollar gold coin of 1854, the cast of features is still Greek. Some slight modification is made by accessories, such as the circlet of feathers about the head. The obverse of the gold dollar of the same date bears what is described as the head of a beautiful Indian; but the features are Greek, and the hair is waving, unlike any ever seen among savages.

In descriptions of American coins, the eagle, which appears so often and so prominent, is commonly spoken of as the American eagle. If one will take the trouble to compare this figure in every position in which it is displayed upon our coins, with the effigy of "the winged hound of Zeus," so common on the coins of Greece, he will find the identity complete. The only difference will be that the old hand-struck coins show the vigor of original work, as compared with that of a copy.

Another familiar symbol on American coins is the bundle of arrows held in one talon or the other of the eagle. On a few of our earlier coins the number of these arrows was four or six, or even more; but commonly there have been three, and now they are uniformly of that number. They are arranged at a pretty definite angle. The two obliquely transverse ones are in position and in form precisely like the two flashes of lightning across the thunderbolt of Zeus, only the zigzag lines have been straightened into arrow-shafts. It seems highly probable that the point of the bolt between the two flashes itself developed into the middle arrow, and thus makes up the traditional number three. The fact that the thunderbolt is found in the talons of the eagle so often, upon both Greek and Roman coins, makes the supposition a likely one.

Regarding the laurel and the olive, it need only be said that the branch of itself symbolizes the presence of the divinity, to which the tree is sacred, or it typifies some attribute or the exercise of some divine office. As an illustration, Apollo is often shown using the laurel-bough to sprinkle the people with purifying waters. But when boughs or leaves are twined into a wreath, it is commonly to denote worship paid to the divinity, or in its name; for in worshipping the gods, wreaths of the proper material were placed upon their statues in the sacred places, and it was a regular industry in Greek towns to twine wreaths for this very use. This import of the wreath is called to mind by observing that the legend on the reverse of the three-dollar gold coin of 1854 is surrounded by a wreath of the leaves of the tobacco-plant and cereals.

The obverse and the reverse of coins have always been read together, as a whole. This rule was never more clearly exemplified than in striking the old colonial shillings of Massachusetts, where the legend of the obverse--"Massachusetts in"--was completed by turning the coin over and reading on the reverse the rest of the sentence--"New England."

It remains now to look at a few examples of our national coinage. The eagle of 1795 bears upon its obverse a head of Liberty, wearing a rather high Phrygian cap. This cap, and the wand upon which it is more commonly raised, are the symbols of this goddess. They are familiar enough in Roman art and literature, if not in our own. The reverse of the coin bears an eagle with expanded wings, holding in its beak a laurel-wreath, and grasping a palm-branch with both talons. From what has already been said in regard to the significance of these emblems to an earlier generation of men, this inscription, as a whole, may be construed somewhat like this: Liberty, through the power of Zeus, has secured victory, and through the same helping power she now offers worship to the genius of prophetic inspiration. With some such thought of his country would an old Greek have scanned this coin when he bartered his soul for its possession. In the coinage of 1838, this coin bears on its reverse an eagle with a shield--which, by the way, is Roman--on its breast, and having its wings uplifted. This eagle holds in its left talon three arrows, and in its right an olive-branch.

The double eagle of 1850 bears on its obverse a head of Liberty. The face is shown in profile, and the features are of pure Greek type. The fillet about the head is such as was worn by the ancient priests. This circumstance serves to connect our coinage with the earliest issues made from the temples, under direction of the priests. The reverse of the coin has a small eagle, nearly hidden by the shield upon its breast. Its left talon holds three arrows, and its right an olive-branch. The distinctive mark of this reverse is the arc of diverging rays of the sun above the head of the eagle. This arc is found with peculiar appropriateness upon a gold coin, since it is a symbol of the old sun-worship, or of Apollo, under whose auspices gold coins were originally issued. Its occurrence here, moreover, emphasizes that total disregard for the fitness of things which appears on the reverse of the half-eagle of 1796, where clouds are seen above the eagle's head.

The silver coins of our currency have much in common with the gold. Such parts of the designs upon these as are like what has been found upon the gold coins will call for no further remark. The reverse of the dollar of 1798 is noticeable for this; that the eagle grasps in his right talon a bundle of four arrows instead of three, as on later coins. From 1836 a pretty nearly uniform pattern has prevailed for the dollar and its subdivisions. The obverse shows a female figure seated. The face is of a pronounced Greek type. The drapery is Greek, with one trifling variation,--the fastening of the dress is shown upon the right shoulder. The ancient fashion of this garment put the fastening only upon the left shoulder. Upon these coins the cap of Liberty is not worn upon the head, but it is displayed upon a wand held in the left hand. The right hand of the figure rests on shield and scroll. The reverse shows an eagle with wings expanded as if about to fly. The shield covers its breast. Unlike the eagle of the earlier coins, it is with the right talon now that it grasps the olive-branch, and the left holds three arrows. The quarter-dollar of 1853 has the space above the eagle on the reverse filled with diverging rays. Apollo might not, perhaps, take it as a compliment to be asked to sanction much of our later silver coinage.