The groat, when it existed, long ago, was worth 4 (or in some cases 8) old pence.
The widow’s mite is a Biblical reference, and according to Wiki was a donation of two small coins made by (not to) a poor widow, to help those poorer than herself. It wasn’t the name of the coin, and anyway, they were Roman coins, not British ones.
So neither of these were the smallest valued English coin.
Groats, half-sovereigns, sovereigns, and guineas have not been legal tender in living memory, probably not since the 19th century or earlier (though we now have pound coins and two-pound coins), and crowns were in only very limited circulation, being struck only for commemorative purposes (though they were technically legal tender, I think). Getting a crown in your change was probably a considerably rarer event than getting a Kennedy half-dollar is in America today. Prices of certain very high end luxury goods or services were (and maybe still are) sometimes quoted in guineas, but there was no guinea coin struck after the early 19th century, and I think they ceased to be legal tender soon after that.
The coins in normal circulation when I was a boy (1950s and '60s), before the run-up to decimalization began, were (with common slang names in parentheses): farthing, halfpenny (ha’penny), penny, threepenny bit (normally golden in colour and 12 sided, but you very occasionally still saw a ‘silver’ one, similar in appearance to a U.S. dime), sixpence (tanner), shilling (bob), florin (two-bob bit), and half-crown. (There were other slang terms used by some people, but not in universal use.) The next highest denomination was a paper ten-shilling note, but I think that around the time half-crowns were withdrawn, a year or so before D day, they also withdrew ten-bob notes, and started issuing heptagonal 50p pieces, which at that point were worth ten shillings (but it said “Fifty Pence” on them).
I was working in Harrods on decimalization day, and it was my job (with others) to wander around the store explaining the new currency. My lasting memory is of numerous little old upper crust ladies almost physically attacking me for stealing their money, as they used to have 240 pence to the pound, and now they only had 100. It was very difficult to convince them.
I have a small collection of silver threepenny bits. My mother used to put them in Christmas puddings, and any child that got one could exchange it for five shillings, which we thought pretty good value. As you can imagine, the supply dwindled over the years.
These coins are worth around £10 or so each these days.
Ah, somewhere in my “stuff” I have a tiny silver coin from Britain that my great aunt sent me. That must be it, the “smallest” silver coin made in Britain.
There’s the suggestion that when the one-pound coin came out, it should be called a “thatcher” - 'cuz it thick and brassy and thinks it’s a sovereign.
I’m not convinced that mites were never legal tender in England; in the medieval period, coins seem to have been transferred quite widely within Europe.
http://www.columbia.edu/~ram15/grash.html
The footnote reads
But note that a currency which uses both half-farthings and third-farthings as legal tender needs sixth-farthings (mites) to balance the books; the denomination would have come in useful for accounting purposes, even if they were never coined here.
Note as well that the widow’s ‘two mites’ were in fact one third-farthing, which was a coin used here.
At least I’ll have jolly sixpence.
Thoroughbred horse auctions are still conducted in guineas, with the extra 5 pence going to the auctioneer.
So, Wikipedia trumps the Bible concerning Biblical references? That’s rich …
And he looked up, and saw the rich men casting their gifts into the treasury. And he saw also a certain poor widow casting in thither two mites. And he said. “Of a truth I say unto you that this poor widow hath cast in more than they all: For all these have of their abundance cast in unto the offerings of God: but she of her penury hath cast in all the living that she had”
Why do I have those big-wheel small wheel bicycles in my head? Feeling lazy, let SD do the work…
I saw what you did there.
I’m interested in the social aspect, and, as far as I understand it, the difference a penny makes when phrased differently.
In the opening chapter of Ulysses, Stephen Daedalus, his friend Malachi Mulligan (who’s nicknamed Stephen “Kinch”), and some Oxford-type (“oxy”) Englishman who’s slumming to find the cultural soul of these foreigners, and whom they casually dislike, are sharing a very artistic living quarters in a former military watchtower.
Stephen makes a casual observation (now a famous one of Joyce’s) of what might be a good symbol of Irish art, which Mulligan repeats approvingly:
– Cracked lookingglass of a servant. Tell that to the oxy chap downstairs and touch him for a guinea. He’s stinking with money and thinks you’re not a gentleman. His old fellow made his tin by selling jalap to Zulus or some bloody swindle or other. God, Kinch, if you and I could only work together we might do something for the island. Hellenise it.
Later in the chapter, Mulligan brings it up, having forgotten, or reminding Stephen, to hit him up for money:
– I told him your symbol of Irish art. He says it’s very clever. Touch him for a quid, will you? A guinea, I mean.
Comments, anybody?
I’ve read that a “Guinea” (pace Joyce, is the word always capped?) is different in worth by one penny, but is far more valuable as a sign of being classy.
Also, just occurred to me: “made his tin?”
A guinea is one pound, one shilling or, in new money, one pound and five pence.
I’m pretty sure that in 1904 there were no guinea coins in circulation, and hadn’t been for many years. Nevertheless then, and for many years afterwards, guineas were a unit of account used by the classier joints when pricing their goods and services. Barrister’s fees, for example, were reckoned in guineas, and the classier tailors priced their suits in guineas.
(In fact, in the 1960s, I recall a Monty Python sketch in which a shop assistant in a mens outfitters offers to sell a shirt for thirty shillings, and his colleague objects “but these are five-guinea shirts!” The implication is not only that they are very expensive, but that they are made for very high class of customer, and so are of very good quality.)
In urging Dedalus to borrow “a guinea” from the Englishman, Mulligan is making the point that the Englishman moves in a class that transacts in guineas and, as an arriviste in that class (family money comes from a shonky trade carried on by his father) is a bit insecure, and can be worked on by flattering him by conspicuously acknowledging hiim as a member of that class. I don’t think Mulligan is seriously suggesting that Dedalus should ask for the loan of one pound, one shilling; he’s suggesting that Dedalus ask him in a way that flatters his social position.
“Tin” is money - not that any British coins were ever made of tin unless someone with a good knowledge of Cornish history can say different (naturally there is some tin in bronze coinage). Mind you, cupro-nickel is rather tin-like in colour but the term is older than that; George MacDonald Fraser puts the word in Flashman’s mouth on at least one occasion.
Isn’t the word also used in “Camptown Races?”
Tin as one of the many slang terms for money, goes back a long way:
You mean the song about that racetrack that’s five-miles long, oh dee doo dah day?
Terms for money that I’ve heard in the US:
bucks
big ones (a “big one” is one USD) e.g. “I want ten thousand big ones for that.”
dough
dinero (from Spanish)
ching (onomatopoeic from the sound of a mid-20th century cash register.)
italics added.
Thanks for the reply. I’ll answer with a couple of questions (:)) in a bit, but this should be of interest to all:
where I found, on a page devoted solely to the guinea/sovereign/pound, “The final version, minted in 1813, was very different in design. It was issued to supply Wellington with gold to pay for supplies in the Peninsular War.”
You know, I may have one of the itchiest trigger fingers to report “political jabs,” etc., or to reply in Moderator Note-worthy ways, particularly when coming from the knee-jerk, pathologically altruistic hypocritical pseudo liberal, but I thought this was quite funny.
Just FTR.
That’s the one. ISTR there’s a line about going there with your hat stove in, and coming home with a pocketful of tin.