A siliqua is a smallish silver coin a little lighter than the classical denarius and about the same weight as an American Mercury head dime. It replaced the denarius (and an interim coin) after decades of economic, military, and political instabillity in the empire, around 300 AD. The first were introduced by Constantine the Great.
Constantine had four sons. The first, Crispus, was falsely implicated along with his mother (and the emperor's first wife) in treason, and executed. (Later it turned out that Constantine's second wife faked the evidence, and she joined them on the executioner's block.) His three son's by his second wife were Constantinus, Constantius, and Constans, in that order. They became co-Augusti on their father's death, and instantly fell on each other like hungry hyenas. They had inherited Constantine the Great's high character too, apparently...
Constantius II emerged the survivor, after having wiped out virtually the entire family, clan, and every imaginable supporter. Despite a suspicious and violent nature, Constantius was an able administrator, and the empire could spare a couple of hundred victims of royal rage and paranoia with ease. (Although the cost of cival war, and the lives of thousands of needed soldiers was something else.)
There was rather a lack of silver in the mid-4th century, or perhaps it was just that inflation had made it too expensive. Silver coins of this sort were struck, but in relatively small numbers compared to the early centuries of the empire. Or else there was a shortage of silver later, and most such coins were meted down a couple of centuries later. In either case, these are fairly hard to come by coins, and not cheap. I had all of three siliqua covering a hundred years, until I found this one.
One of the joys of collecting ancient coins is documenting them. It isn't enough to just have it, I want to know everything about it. Where was it minted, when, why? What does the inscription read? Why was it lost where it was? Who was paid it? What was it likely spent on? The answers to many of these questions can be found, though never all of course. I have never yet seen a coin with one possible exception, that had been in the hand of a man I could actually name. (But there was that one exception!)
The mystery to this siliqua of Constantius II's is the mint. According to what I had known about mint marks -- the letters at bottom of the right hand image -- this could have meant it was struck in Constantinople. PCON might have stood for Pecunia Constantinopolis. It was common for coins of this period to have mint marks preceded by M or SM, standing for Moneta and Sacra Moneta. But I have never actually seen Pecunia CON before, and it seemed suspicious in as much as the dealer's notes said it was minted in Arles. It took a bit of reading on Wikipedia to discover that for a period covering the mintng of this coin, Arles (France) had been renamed Constantina, after the emperor's wife. The abreviation used was for Pecunia, as surmised, but CON didn't stand for the imperial capitol, but for Arles! You can never know enough...
Constantine had four sons. The first, Crispus, was falsely implicated along with his mother (and the emperor's first wife) in treason, and executed. (Later it turned out that Constantine's second wife faked the evidence, and she joined them on the executioner's block.) His three son's by his second wife were Constantinus, Constantius, and Constans, in that order. They became co-Augusti on their father's death, and instantly fell on each other like hungry hyenas. They had inherited Constantine the Great's high character too, apparently...
Constantius II emerged the survivor, after having wiped out virtually the entire family, clan, and every imaginable supporter. Despite a suspicious and violent nature, Constantius was an able administrator, and the empire could spare a couple of hundred victims of royal rage and paranoia with ease. (Although the cost of cival war, and the lives of thousands of needed soldiers was something else.)
There was rather a lack of silver in the mid-4th century, or perhaps it was just that inflation had made it too expensive. Silver coins of this sort were struck, but in relatively small numbers compared to the early centuries of the empire. Or else there was a shortage of silver later, and most such coins were meted down a couple of centuries later. In either case, these are fairly hard to come by coins, and not cheap. I had all of three siliqua covering a hundred years, until I found this one.
One of the joys of collecting ancient coins is documenting them. It isn't enough to just have it, I want to know everything about it. Where was it minted, when, why? What does the inscription read? Why was it lost where it was? Who was paid it? What was it likely spent on? The answers to many of these questions can be found, though never all of course. I have never yet seen a coin with one possible exception, that had been in the hand of a man I could actually name. (But there was that one exception!)
The mystery to this siliqua of Constantius II's is the mint. According to what I had known about mint marks -- the letters at bottom of the right hand image -- this could have meant it was struck in Constantinople. PCON might have stood for Pecunia Constantinopolis. It was common for coins of this period to have mint marks preceded by M or SM, standing for Moneta and Sacra Moneta. But I have never actually seen Pecunia CON before, and it seemed suspicious in as much as the dealer's notes said it was minted in Arles. It took a bit of reading on Wikipedia to discover that for a period covering the mintng of this coin, Arles (France) had been renamed Constantina, after the emperor's wife. The abreviation used was for Pecunia, as surmised, but CON didn't stand for the imperial capitol, but for Arles! You can never know enough...
Category All / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 1000 x 1016px
File Size 293.3 kB
The man was Commodus, the emperor himself. This is the emperor that Hollywood loves to depict as a depraved degenerate who murdered his own father, chased little boys, and wore eye-shadow. (The last is a dead give-away.) Supposedly his father Marcus Aurelius was a paragon of virtue. By comparisn, yes. But to imagine any Roman emperor believed in liberty or democracy is to laugh uproariously until the sides split and your guts spill on the floor. No emperor has ever had secret plans to restore the Republic either.
Not even Claudius, Robert Graves and the BBC notwithstanding. (Claudius was hailed emperor by the soliders, and the senate hated him for it. They wanted to rule as in the old days, not have a new emperor. Had Claudius somehow surrendered authority, the senate would have had his guts for garters next day.)
Yet while Commodus's days ended evily, he was not an unsuccesful emperor. He ruled for about 12 years, no mean feat in itself, before he was murdered. He must have been a competant administrator. There is no evidence to even suggest he *disliked* his father, let alone killed him. If there was any truth to him chasing little boys, that was probably only following in the footsteps of many illustrious predecessors, such as Hadrian. Everyone admires Hadrian!
So what's the big deal with Commodus? Well, unquestionably he was haughty, and suspected plots everywhere. There *were* plots against him in fact. I think it was Domitian nearly a century before who complained that an emperor is never believed when he suspects a plot against his life unless it's successful. The plots against Commodus began as a result of personal dislikes and politics and fed on themselves. Once the emperor began to suppress conspiracies, hemade himself more disliked, and feuled even more conspiracies. In the end a reign of terror is all that stands between rule and a horrible death. Commodus got to the point of a reign of terror, but unfortunately (for him) it didn't save him. He was strangled by his own masseur, a slave named Narcissus. Other conspirators hearing the commotion, rushed in and made sure of the business by stabbing the purple faced emperor as he struggled.
The coin wasn't a coin actually, but a medallion given to soldiers for some exceptional act of heroism or other. The one I saw (and held) was given a soldier in Britain, around 185 AD. While no one knows who the soldier is, the event would have been an important one, and very likely important enough that the emperor himself would have presented the medal to the recipient. There were good odds, then, this two inch disk of darkened bronze had been in the mitt of the emperor Commodus.
It was sold to a friend of mine for around $6,500 I think. I have an image of it from the dealer's site (before it was sold to my friend), but I don't know if it's worth posting. It shows the emperor's head on the obverse, and a figure of the emperor standing on the reverse, his arm draped over some military trophey or other.
The sucker is not only two inches across, but weighs only a little less than 2 whole ounces.
Not even Claudius, Robert Graves and the BBC notwithstanding. (Claudius was hailed emperor by the soliders, and the senate hated him for it. They wanted to rule as in the old days, not have a new emperor. Had Claudius somehow surrendered authority, the senate would have had his guts for garters next day.)
Yet while Commodus's days ended evily, he was not an unsuccesful emperor. He ruled for about 12 years, no mean feat in itself, before he was murdered. He must have been a competant administrator. There is no evidence to even suggest he *disliked* his father, let alone killed him. If there was any truth to him chasing little boys, that was probably only following in the footsteps of many illustrious predecessors, such as Hadrian. Everyone admires Hadrian!
So what's the big deal with Commodus? Well, unquestionably he was haughty, and suspected plots everywhere. There *were* plots against him in fact. I think it was Domitian nearly a century before who complained that an emperor is never believed when he suspects a plot against his life unless it's successful. The plots against Commodus began as a result of personal dislikes and politics and fed on themselves. Once the emperor began to suppress conspiracies, hemade himself more disliked, and feuled even more conspiracies. In the end a reign of terror is all that stands between rule and a horrible death. Commodus got to the point of a reign of terror, but unfortunately (for him) it didn't save him. He was strangled by his own masseur, a slave named Narcissus. Other conspirators hearing the commotion, rushed in and made sure of the business by stabbing the purple faced emperor as he struggled.
The coin wasn't a coin actually, but a medallion given to soldiers for some exceptional act of heroism or other. The one I saw (and held) was given a soldier in Britain, around 185 AD. While no one knows who the soldier is, the event would have been an important one, and very likely important enough that the emperor himself would have presented the medal to the recipient. There were good odds, then, this two inch disk of darkened bronze had been in the mitt of the emperor Commodus.
It was sold to a friend of mine for around $6,500 I think. I have an image of it from the dealer's site (before it was sold to my friend), but I don't know if it's worth posting. It shows the emperor's head on the obverse, and a figure of the emperor standing on the reverse, his arm draped over some military trophey or other.
The sucker is not only two inches across, but weighs only a little less than 2 whole ounces.
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