The shape of early coins is by no means uniform. There is one peculiarity of the coins of Bœotia 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. Bœotia 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.