Author: Baldwins

The Commemorative Medal is one of numismatics most interesting areas. A Commemorative Medal will hold much of the lustre and aesthetic beauty of a coin (often much more so), and they can also be comparatively inexpensive. The appeal can go further than that too – a coin, of course, will speak of history: what happened in the year or geographical region that it was minted; the reign of a particular Monarch; the dominance and fall of an Empire.

With coins, each singular item points to a significant historical age or a period of importance to the individual collector. And of course that can be anything from the Ancient Greek Civilisation to the reign of Charles II of England.

In the case of the commemorative medal, that historical period is vastly refined; all extraneous events whittled away so that the item itself points not to a war or a civilisation or an age, but to just one event, one  moment in time, one commemoration.

If coins are the movie, then the commemorative medal is a photograph.

In 1904, at Cambridge University, John Fraser, the Jesus Professor of Celtic was awarded the William Browne Prize for Classical Odes and Epigrams. This one moment in time may have seemed not all that significant in the greater scheme of things. Respectfully, it was news unlikely to be of much regard for those without a vested interest in Classical Odes and Epigrams, and unlikely to get to the front page of any newspaper outside of Trinity College. It would, however, be the precursor to the recipient becoming involved in truly earth-shattering news. News for which the press are still writing headlines even today.

Lot 3653 in Baldwin’s London Auction 101 – 28 September 2016
Cambridge University, William Browne Prize for Classical Odes and Epigrams, Gold Medal by Lewis Pingo, first struck 1755 and later awarded to John Fraser in 1904. Upon receiving his award, John Fraser joined a famous alumni – it was awarded to Samuel Taylor Colleridge in 1792, and latterly to Enoch Powell in 1932.
Estimate: £800-1,000

It was some years later that John Fraser would work, during WWII, at Bletchley Park with over 10,000 others (including this chronographer’s Great Aunt), surrounded by a blanket of secrecy so complete that were it not for a book published by a former employee in 1974, we may not have known about it at all. Indeed, Churchill called it “the goose that laid the golden egg and never cackled”, and upon cessation of the war ordered all records be destroyed.

The work that was done in Bletchley Park was, of course, to decipher the codes used by the German Enigma Machine – recently brought to life with the film The Imitation Game, with Benedict Cumberbatch as Alan Turing, the gifted but troubled genius.

And if a coin is a movie, then the medal is the photograph – that one moment in time. And it was the moment that Jon Fraser received the William Browne Medal for Classical Odes and Epigrams that made him stand out as one of the country’s finest linguists. It was arguably, these skills that merited his inclusion in one of the most celebrated teams of all time.

And what exactly did John Fraser actually do at Bletchley Park? We may never really know. It has itself become an enigma, the mystery that solved a mystery. It was not until 2009 that the surviving members (John Fraser died in 1945) were honoured for the work they had done, and then only with commemorative badges (because civilians are not allowed to be given military honours).

What we do know is that the staff at Bletchley Park were selected for their linguistic and mathematical prowess. What we can surmise is that attempting to decipher the German transmissions, and working with one of this country’s finest mathematicians was probably a deal more exciting that writing classical odes and epigrams.

But then, no-one ever gave John Fraser a medal for that.

It is a fact that Military History is illustrated with countless tales of heroism and bravery beyond the imaginings of those who have never seen action. Feats that challenge the roles of ‘everyday’ lives; exploits that amaze and inspire; deeds immortalised in book and in film.

We’ve all seen them – the major Hollywood Blockbuster. An intrepid hero in his military fatigues, defying all the odds to reach his lost colleague / capture the enemy’s outpost / find a lost love. We’ve all been enthralled at one time or another by these incredible (and often fantastical) tales. Movies they may be, but our investment within these stories is real. And why are we invested? Why are we captivated? It’s a subtle yet effective trick that Hollywood pulls – they present the hero or the heroine, and then they give them a choice.

The hero can decide. They can choose to trek across the continent to find Private Ryan. They can decide whether they want to join 617 Squadron even when they don’t know the actual mission. Of course, those of us watching from the comfort of our armchairs have zero control over the hero’s choice, but it is the fact that they have a choice at all that pulls us in. Because we can all identify with choice.

For most of us, those choices are more inane. Such as ‘shall I go to work today or award myself a lie-in?’ or ‘what shall I have for dinner?’. Of a lesser value they may be, but they are choices just the same. It is the presence of choice that gives us the identification with those on the screen. Just what would we do if faced with the same situation? Would we run away screaming, or would we jump on board that burning ship to rescue those trapped within?

In the real world, orders are issued in the military in order to eliminate (or at least reduce) choice, so that the soldier/pilot/seaman is less likely to make a mistake in a high-pressure situation that could lead to fatalities. The tales of heroism that Hollywood portrays almost always come when the lead character makes his or her own choices right there and then, on their own backs, based on nothing but an immediate evaluation of the situation.

The story of Captain GP Bevan reads just like that of a Hollywood plot, worthy of any silver screen. He was faced with an extraordinary situation, facing choices that had to be made on the spur of the moment, in the face of extreme adversity. The results of those choices saw him awarded the Rare ‘Archangel Command’ Albert Medal.

Lot 3998 in Baldwin’s Auction 101, 28 September 2016
The Superb C.M.G. ‘Gallipoli’ DSO and Rare ‘Archangel Command’ Albert Medal Group of 8 to Captain G.P> Bevan, Royal Navy. 
Presented in a glazed and hinged mahogany display case, with a large framed and glazed portrait photograph of the recipient in uniform.
Estimate: £25,000-30,000

George Parker Bevan was born in 1878 in Staines, the second son of sixteen children. A long and highly successful military career saw him, amongst other achievements, awarded the D.S.O. for his involvement in the evacuation of Gallipoli. He rose through the ranks of the Royal Navy, and was appointed PTMO to the staff of the Governor-General of the Province of Archangel in Northern Russia.

One of his roles was to orchestrate the landing and transportation munitions in that Russian port, and it was on November 8^th, 1916 that that role would present him with choices befitting the plot of any Hollywood blockbuster.

The day had started as any other – many ships were moored at Archangel, and others were coming and going throughout the morning. Bevan’s crews were busy unloading munitions that were to be transported to the Allies fighting on the Russian Front.

At precisely 1pm, the merchant ship SS Baron Driesen exploded.

There was no time to find the source of the explosion. Desperate and frantic attempts were made to move nearby ships away from the flames, the crews terrified that others (all carrying live ammunition) may catch a burning ember. At 1.40pm, the aft part of the SS Earl of Forfar, moored next to the Baron Driesen, also exploded.

The ship’s Master, Captain James Campbell Hurry, was adamant that he return to his burning vessel, panicked over the fate of his crew. The flames beat him back, and he joined Captain Bevan in attempting to move other ships away as burning embers fell around them. Many of those embers landed on the quay, and the crew’s task was made even harder by several small fires on the land.

One can only imagine the sense of fear and the desire to keep a cool head in the face of such ruination, knowing that the choices you are making right there and right then will determine the fate of so many of those around you. Such bravery, however, pales into insignificance in the face of what happened next.

The framed portrait of Captain Bevan in full uniform, to be sold alongside his medals at the auction.

As Captain Bevan and his team were frantically trying to move other boats away from what was by now a huge conflagration, more explosions from the Earl of Forfar saw that ship almost completely engulfed. In the midst of these explosions, Captain Hurry was sure he heard voices, coming from the flames.

The call for volunteers went up (we all face choices, every single day. Sometimes those choices matter more than others).

Clambering aboard the burning ship, Captain Hurry rescued several men whilst having to lift live shells out of his path. Ten minutes after the survivors had been dragged to safety, the deck also blew up.

By now, dark had fallen (the Port of Archangel is located on the Northern coast of Russia, and in November, dark comes early) although it was unlikely to have been noticed by the survivors, lit by so many fires all around them. Between the burning Earl of Forfar and the quay (which was now almost completely on fire itself), was a one-hundred-tonne floating crane. Suddenly, cries went up amongst the men that voices had been heard coming from the crane.

The only way to reach it was to cross what remained of the Earl of Forfar. Step forward Captain Bevan and Lt Cdr Maurice McMahon. Selflessly, they darted into the flames in an attempt to reach the crane. No sooner had they stepped aboard when they heard another cry for help, coming from the smouldering remains of the forecastle.

They immediately set about extricating the casualty. As they attempted to sweep aside burning planks, boxes of small munitions were exploding all around them, filling the air with bullets moving as quickly as if they had been fired from a gun. Moving the wreckage, they found the mate of the Earl of Forfar, his arm, leg, and collarbone broken. Somehow, they managed to pass the man to a waiting tug, saving his life.

With the mate successfully rescued, Lt Cdr McMahon re-entered the flames, crossing to the crane on a single plank. Trapped beneath the crane were the ship’s carpenter along with two Russian members of his crew. All were saved.

All six of the volunteers, those fearless men who made the choice to rush onto a burning ship, whilst boxes of live ammunition exploded all around them to rescue their comrades were awarded Albert Medals, Captain Bevan amongst them.

Were this a Hollywood movie and not real life, the credits would probably roll right there. There is, however, an interesting (if macabre) footnote to the story – something perhaps for those who stayed in the cinema to the very end.

Bevan was recalled to London in February 1918, and appointed Naval Assistant Director of Transports. In January 1920, he was due to travel to Aden to take up a post as senior Naval Officer in the Persian Gulf. He had, however, been suffering from severe headaches for some time, and had been instructed by his doctor to rest. Duty prevailed, and he sailed anyway.

Upon arrival, despite feeling unwell, he went immediately ashore to greet the Governor. As the two men shook hands, Bevan removed his hat, fell to the ground and died.

George Parker Bevan died of a brain tumour, and is buried at Maala Cemetary in Yemen.

In real life, Hollywood endings rarely happen, no matter what choices we make.

To view all the entire Military Medals section from this auction, click here (pdf link – opens in new window).

It was one of the most memorable events of WWII. Not least because of the popular movie immortalisation, as well as Paul Brickhill’s best-selling historical account. It was May 1943, and the German dams at Mohne, Eder and Sorpe were well-defended: anti-torpedo nets hung from enormous boons; gunners on the dams themselves were armed with anti-aircraft fire. The risks were huge. The rewards proportionate.

The Allies knew that successful destruction of the dams would severely harm the German production of munitions and steel from the numerous factories that lay in the shadow of the dam. Getting the explosives close enough (not to mention the planes themselves) would prove a challenge on a par with some of the greatest military tactics ever conjured.

Step forward Squadron X. Latterly to be called Squadron 617. Later to be forever remembered as ‘The Dambuster Squadron’.

The selection of Squadron 617 was left to Wing Commander Guy Gibson: “it took me an hour to pick my crews. I wrote all the names down on a piece of paper…from my own personal knowledge, I believed them to be the best bomber pilots available.” An integral part of that squadron was Squadron leader Tommy Lloyd, who served as the Intelligence Officer at the squadron’s base at Woodhall Spa.

It was to be the crowning glory of a long and highly decorated military career. During WWI Thomas William Lloyd served with the 4^th Battalion, King’s Liverpool Regiment in France from 1915. In October of that year he was appointed Adjutant to a unit of The Royal Engineers – the unit that evacuated the Serbian Army from Albania. He then spent a year in Mesopotamia as personal assistant to General Grey, joining the British Forces fighting against the Ottoman Empire in what would become modern-day Iraq.

On the renewal of hostilities, Tommy Lloyd was commissioned to the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve and stationed at Woodhall Spa. According to Paul Brickhill’s superb account, Lloyd was a popular personality, and a vital part of the events of May 1943.

The Dambuster’s mission itself is well documented. Of course, we’ve all seen the wonderful film (and no doubt cringed at what they used as a codeword for a successful hit – those were different times!), but as is often the case in these instances the glory can overshadow the tragedy.

Eight of the Lancaster Bombers that set out on that night did not return. Fifty-three men of 617 Squadron lost their lives.

If fell to Squadron Leader Lloyd to debrief those that returned. One can only imagine the emotions that must have been experienced at that debriefing. On one hand, the mission was highly successful, with two of the three dams breached. On the other, so many of the Squadron’s friends and colleagues had paid the ultimate price.

It takes a special kind of courage, quite alien to us who live in peacetime, to be able to perform such a duty in such circumstances.

The Great War Distinguished Service Order group of 7 awarded to Sqaudron Leader TW ‘Tommy’ Lloyd, Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve, Intelligence Officer to 617 “Dambuster” Squadron. Lot 3987 in Baldwin’s London Auction 101, 28 September 2016. Estimate: £1,500-2,000

Less than a year after his greatest triumph, Tommy Lloyd was killed in a tragic accident in February 1944. On 12 February, eleven bombers had taken off from Royal Naval Air Station Ford to perform bombing raids on the Antheor Aqueduct in Southern France. Upon their return to RNAS Ford they were debriefed (again by Lloyd) and then due to return to Woodhall Spa. Lloyd was offered a lift by one of the pilots. Shortly after take-off in bad weather, the plane hit a tree and crashed into a hill. All of those on board lost their lives.

It was a tragic end. His medals, now for sale at our London Auctions on 28^th September, stand as a remembrance to one of Britain’s true war heroes – a man of impeccable standing, respected and admired by generations.

Perhaps the most fitting tribute, however, comes from Wing Commander Cheshire (then Commander of 617 Squadron), who had the unenviable task of writing to Lloyd’s widow:

“Dear Mrs Lloyd,

…Your husband was killed while flying from Ford, in Sussex, back to this Station. He had been down there with the Squadron, as was his usual custom, and having finished his work…was on his way back to us…the whole crew died instantly, except for (Captain) Suggit, who, although unconscious, remained alive for two days.

Your husband had been with this Squadron ever since it first formed, and wherever the Squadron went, he went too. He looked after us not only as an Intelligence Officer, but also as a friend, and I don’t think any loss could mean more to us than his. I know there is little I can say what will help you or ease your burden, but I would like to tell you something of the influence that Tommy had on all of us. He was somehow a man to whom you could always turn in trouble, and a man who always did so much to make our life happier and more comfortable.

Wherever I may go, I know that I shall meet no-one more tolerant or unselfish, and on behalf of everyone here, as well as myself, I would like to extend to you my great appreciation and gratefulness for all that he did for us, and for the personal sacrifices that he so often made. I would like to extend to you my deepest and most profound sympathy.

G.W. Cheshire

Wing Commander, Commanding No.617 Squadron”

History is often written by the winners. So said Churchill. Jawaharlal Nehu, the first Prime Minister of India, elaborated: “History is almost always written by the victors and gives their view. Or, at any rate, the victor’s version is given prominence and holds the field.

In 1842 the first Opium War ended. The Qing Dynasty was forced to concede indemnities, treaty ports and Hong Kong Island to the British. China as a nation was already suffering from the effects of natural disasters, famine and perceived overtaxation. Adding defeat in an expensive and unpopular war created a portentous mix. China seemed poised for an uprising. And it got one.

The Taiping Rebellion would last for the next fourteen years. It would become one of the bloodiest wars in human history, with estimated dead somewhere between twenty million and a hundred million, as well as millions more displaced. At its end, the Qing Dynasty prevailed, with the major players in its victory heralded as heroes and ‘saviours of the Qing Empire’.

And so says history.

In Chinese, The Taiping Rebellion is referred to as The Tai Ping Tian Guo – with the literal translation being ‘The Kingdom of Heavenly Peace’. A phrase many times removed from the English connotations of ‘rebellion’. But history is written by the victors, and it is the victor’s view that ‘holds the field’.

In 1843, a Christian sect named the ‘God Worshipping Society’ began to spread their ideas across Southern China. They gained support from the locals by suppressing gangs of bandits and pirates throughout the region – something that the ruling Qing government had failed to do.

The leader, Hong Xiuquan, believed himself divinely blessed (many commentators have stated that Hong claimed to be ‘Christ’s younger brother’, but this may well actually be a mistranslation of the Chinese term for younger brother: ‘xiōng dì’ which means ‘follower’ rather than a blood relative), and the group grew in popularity and numbers. By 1847 they had taken control of the whole Guangxi Province. By 1850, their puritanical doctrine had become the norm – based on snippets of Christianity that had been brought to China by Europeans during the Opium War. Opium itself was banned, as was tobacco, gambling and the masochistic practice of foot binding. Women were treated on an equal basis to men, and became soldiers and administrators and even civil servants.

‘Rebellion’, indeed.

Lot 292 in Hong Kong Auction 61 – An important Group of French Orders, Medals and Papers relating to the Taiping Rebellion – awarded to the Captain Jules Julhiet (1824-1898) and family.
Extremely fine to mint state.
Estimate: US$10,000-12,000

By 1853, two thirds of China’s land was controlled by the Taiping’s.

Is a rebellion still a rebellion when it has won? Can the label of ‘rebels’ be attached to a movement that controlled so much of the country? If they were the majority, just what were they rebelling against? The debate is open, but history is written by the victorious, and the fact is that the Taiping Rebellion did not win at all.

When, in 1860 and 1862, the Taipings moved to conquer Shanghai, the English and other European countries stood up and took notice. Shanghai was a port that the British had been ceded, and was considered incredibly valuable to trade. The decision was made that even a weakened Qing Dynasty was preferable to an unknown regime with a perceived version of Christianity that must have appeared quite radical to the Victorian British. The Qing ‘Ever Victorious Army’ (history is written by….etc), backed by the Europeans, recaptured Suxhou and Nanjing, culminating in the death of Hong.

Other factors played their part in the Taiping downfall. Hong’s reluctance to march North played into the ruling Manchu’s hands. Internal fighting amongst the Taiping leaders led to disillusionment and disorganisation amongst their ranks, and so on.

The victors were left to name history, and the rebellion will be forever thus.

As for the future – that, naturally, was still to be written. Many of the Taiping’s beliefs are now seen as a type of proto-Communism (for example, the control of all lands being passed to the rulers; every member had to turn over all funds to the Treasury), and most certainly paved the way for the end of Dynastic rule in China and the creation of the Communist Regime. It is highly unlikely that the Taiping’s had heard of Karl Marx; but he had certainly heard of them: “perhaps the next uprising in Europe may depend more on what is taking place in the Celestial Empire than any other existing cause”.

In numismatics, it is not the future but history (whomsoever it is writ by) that is our staple. And it is history that gives out the names. What would we have called the ‘rebellion’ had they been victorious? Would we today be collecting medals relating to the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom Movement – the movement that mayhap have led to a dominant economic and political system that never caused another war ever again….?

Hong Kong Auction 61
Thursday 25th August 2016

Click here to view all lots from this auction

A cup of tea. As quintessentially British as queuing or a 3-hour discussion about the weather. It is, however, a stereotype that often rings true. The British as a nation drink on average 3.5 cups of tea per day. This equates to around 165 million cups per day. Or a staggering 62 billion a year.

Ingrained as it is within the British culture (think afternoon-tea, high-tea, tea-cakes, the tea-trolley, and so on), it is little surprise that it has enthused (and infused) millions. George Orwell, for example, was a notable tea devotee, and identified 11 rules for tea-making. These, he insisted, should be adhered to at all times – details such as warming the teapot before use, only using certain types of tea, etc.

Orwell’s list may have seemed a trifle obsessive, but for some unfathomable reason he failed to include the process of drying and grinding tea leaves and then pressing them into bricks to use as currency.

Orwell’s baffling omission was probably due to the fact that he lived more than 1984 miles away from where this practice was prevalent: China and the Far East.

Hong Kong Coin Auction 61 – Lot 320

Russian Tea Brick, late 19th or early 20th Century, 185mm x 240mm
Edges and corners a little rubbed, otherwise well preserved.

Estimate: US$100-150

Tea-bricks were, in fact, the most commonly-used form of currency for the Far East region pre-Ming Dynasty (c.1368), due to the high value of tea at the time. They were carried by the caravans travelling to Tibet and Mongolia and used as currency en route, before any remaining were sold as food in Russia.

Early tea-bricks were often ground with binding agents such as flour, blood or manure, rather diminishing, one feels, their appeal as a foodstuff. In Britain, where tea is revered so, it is difficult to imagine the public taking to such ingredients being added to Orwell’s list (apologies to those currently reading this whilst enjoying a cup of their favourite beverage).

The practice of manufacturing tea-bricks continued through the centuries, reaching its height comparatively recently in the 1880’s when inscriptions of the manufacturer or the locality of the factory were pressed in the bricks. The advent of the hydraulic press in 1878 re-invigorated the process, and by the turn of the century there were French, American and German firms brokering tea-bricks in China.

The highest grade of tea-bricks were made for the Russian market (such as the example pictured above, for sale in Hong Kong Coin Auction 61), where they were extremely popular. During the Russian invasion of Tibet prior to WWII, for example, the Russians were noted for buying up huge stocks.

Tea-bricks are still made to this day, and widely used in Tibet and Central Asia.

In Britain, the traditional beverage-of-choice took a slightly different evolutionary route. For that, we have to thank Thomas Sullivan, a New York tea merchant whom, in 1908, had the bright idea of selling tea in little silk bags. Many people were unaware they were supposed to empty the contents before use, and instead immersed them in water. The tea-bag was born.

The humble tea-bag as we know it today is, unlike the tea-brick, unlikely to ever be used as a form of currency (although never say never). For those of us fascinated by the more unusual forms of money, however, the tea-bricks stand as intriguing and absorbing examples of historical import.

So the next time someone asks you to ‘spare a penny for a cup of tea’, bear in mind that not so long ago these were one and the same thing…..

Click here to see all lots from this auction.

On June 23^rd of 2016, the UK voted to leave the European Union. Some cried, some cheered. British politics imploded. Shockwaves were felt around the world. Markets fell. The value of the pound dropped to near-record levels. ‘Economic Uncertainty’ became the number one contender for Phrase of the Year (The Word of the Year has already been awarded to ‘Brexit’).

Over the next two years, the UK will negotiate its exit from the Union. The ramifications of those negotiations are still somewhat shrouded in mystery, and the finer details are obviously yet to be resolved. No matter if you’re in the UK or elsewhere, the questions remain the same: will we be missing out? Will we benefit?

Amongst the wreckage of the political resignations and stock market turmoil, however, it can now be argued that ‘Brexit’ has created ‘the perfect storm’ for numismatics all around the world.

Back in 2015 we brought to the attention of our subscribers a petition against new cultural laws proposed by the German government, provenance laws that threatened the trading of numismatic items by applying provenance regulations that most numismatists would find difficult to adhere to. At that time, Baldwin’s subscribers were amongst the most vociferous in their opposition to the proposal, causing the legislation to be delayed.

In May of 2016, one month before Brexit, this petition was presented to the German Bundestag with nearly 50,000 signatures. To the dismay of collectors everywhere, it was rejected.

On June 23^rd, as the UK was going to the polls, the German Bundestag adopted the new law, pending approval from the Bundesrat (it is worth noting that there were many concessions made regarding the sale of coins from the original document, but more on that later).

Apropos of this, on 15 and 16 September 2015, the European Parliament held a ‘legislative initiative’ on ‘Conflict Looting and the Importance of Provenance Research’.

This initiative, attended by all the major European governments (including the UK), aimed to address the role that the European Parliament played in ‘combatting the trafficking of plundered cultural heritage’.

Whilst this may seem at first glance tangential to numismatics (and collecting in general), it does have a direct effect on the buying and selling of coins. For anyone interested in history (and let’s face it, as numismatists we are de facto historians as well), the plundering and destruction of ancient cultural sites in certain parts of the world is of grave concern. And of course some of those items illegally removed from these areas inevitably include coins and other numismatic relics.

This European Parliament legislative initiative concluded by setting up a ‘Provenance Research Initiative Group’ to examine ‘provenance research as an indispensable mechanism to combat the trade in illicit antiquities’.

Whilst there are none among us who would disagree that provenance is most definitely an extremely good thing indeed, we can also agree that it is not always so straightforward, especially if new provenance guidelines are enacted retrospectively. Take a random coin from your collection, for example. Can you give a full history of that coin? Can you list the previous owners? Can you provide provenance going back over the last twenty years? Further, can you provide that provenance in writing?

The European parliament initiative on provenance research, along with the new German legislation, indicates that the buying and selling of coins in the future may well be a very different animal that it is at present. It will almost certainly mean that buying and selling your coins in certain areas will become far more difficult.

The UK now has two years (maybe much less if some reports are to be believed),to negotiate its departure from the European Union, and legislations that affect numismatics in general are inevitably going to be a part of those negotiations. In the case of the German Cultural law, the Bundestag has already pledged to revisit this in five years, with a view to tightening the concessions that the law made from its original form.

By that time, the UK will no longer be a part of the European Union.

So why the ‘perfect storm’?

Brexit has caused gold prices to rise exponentially as investors clamour to take refuge in precious metals (at the time of writing the price of gold stood at $1,317, and many commentators expect it to hit $1,400 in the coming months). The Royal Mint reported an increase of 550% in the sale of gold coins just one day after Brexit. Add to this the ‘economic uncertainty’ that is now engulfing both Westminster and Brussels (combined with speculation across the Atlantic of the perceived economic instability of a Trump Presidency), and we are presented with arguably the best time to buy rare coins that we have seen in recent years.

And of course, for those outside the UK, the value of the £pound (now at its lowest rate for decades) means that buying from within the UK means that you get a lot more coin for your, er, coin.

Whatever happens next, the world is set for some significant changes – both politically and economically. One thing we can be sure of, however, is that numismatics is set to be more popular and more fashionable than ever before, and that can only be a good thing for the collector.

Click here to view our stock for sale

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By Coin World’s Jeff Starck

A huge collection of the British equivalent of American inaugural medals realised an auction total of £153,618 ($224,778 US) during A H Baldwin & Sons May 4 auction in London.

The Dr Robert and Joshua Feldman Collection of Official British Coronation and Jubille Medals featured 75 lots with 77 medals (including a small number of copies or imitations).

The medals tell the history of royalty in Britain during the course of more than four centuries and reflect changing artistic values and abilities during that time.

Some of the most famous British coin designers were commissioned to create these medals, and the rarity often far surpasses coins of the same monarch but at fractions of the cost.

A history of the series

The Royal Mint has issued British Coronation Medals since James I’s coronation in 1603 and the tradition continued for more than 300 years.

According to Robert Feldman, the medals “constitute a wonderful historic legacy for the United Kingdom; cultural artifacts rich in symbolism.”

Though initially only silver and gold versions were issued, copper editions were added beginning in 1685 for James II’s coronation.

Argentum: silver; the 2^nd tier of precious metal under gold, but not without its own lustre and appeal.

The Baldwin’s Argentum auctions began at the start of the millennium, and on June 4 this year at The Holiday Inn on Coram Street London, it will be the 42^nd time we have held an Argentum auction as part of the London Coin Fair.

Nothing quite beats the thrill of actually being there live, in the room itself. And not just for the obvious excitement of bidding on that particular Gold Solidus you’ve had your eye on for a while – it’s also the buzz of seeing for yourself some of the most significant events in numismatics. Such as when two bidders went head-to-head for a full five minutes for the Lavrillier 1933 Penny at our May auctions and pushed the price to a World Record £72,000. Or the reaction of a standing-room-only packed salesroom when the Victoria Proof Set sold for a cool half million in September last year. Actually being there in person when numismatic history is made is priceless.

As most people are no doubt aware, Baldwin’s holds a number of high-profile auctions around the world every year- currently in Hong Kong, London and New York. Whilst these auctions are invariably fantastic and significant events, we know that it is not always possible (or, let’s face it, financially feasible) for keen collectors to attend in person.

And that’s what the Argentum auction is really all about. A chance for those who perhaps don’t have the odd half million stashed at the back of the wardrobe to experience an auction first-hand. And conducting the auction as part of the London Coin Fair makes it an even better chance to meet and chat with other collectors and dealers over a coffee (or a pint) in a relaxed and more informal environment.

With, of course, the added bonus of the opportunity to purchase some rare, and moreover reasonably priced, numismatic items to add to your collection.

Click here to view highlights from this auction.

Here at Baldwin’s, one of our enduring missions is to make the auction process as simple and accessible as possible to everyone – from the lifelong collector to the first-time buyer. All our major auctions are broadcast live through our website, and our integrated software allows people to bid on those items of interest from the comfort of their own home.

By holding our Argentum auctions as part of the London Coin Fair (the largest of its type in the UK), our goal is to replicate the relaxed environment that comes from bidding at home within the salesroom itself.

The London Coin Fair started back in the late 1960’s, when the advent of decimalisation in the UK prompted people to ‘check their change’ for old silver coins. Today, the show boasts more than 80 UK and international dealers covering all major areas of numismatics, meaning that you are quite likely to find what you are looking for.

As the show’s organisers state: “our aim is to encourage collectors to come and meet with like-minded people, chat to dealers and auctioneers with no pressure to buy, to take the opportunity to look at all the different stick on view and enjoy improving and understanding their own collections.”

So if you’ve always wanted to come to an auction but never had the opportunity, or you’ve always worried that a glamorous location may be a little intimidating to the casual buyer, the Argentum auction represents a perfect opportunity to see for yourself just how easy the whole process is.

And who knows, you might just bag yourself a bargain. And you won’t need £500,000 to do it.

To view the full catalogue for this auction, click here.

Click here for directions to The London Coin Fair