The curious case of the Baton Rouge “Rougers”: A currency catastrophe
In the sweltering summer of 1849, Baton Rouge witnessed the birth of a peculiar currency, the “Rougers,” named rather unimaginatively after the second syllable of the city’s name. The brainchild of this financial fiasco was none other than Cornelius P. Goldtooth, a man whose business acumen was as questionable as his dental choices (he sported a single golden tooth, which he claimed was worth “at least fifty Rougers”).
Cornelius, a self-proclaimed financial wizard (though the only thing he seemed to make disappear was common sense), introduced the Rougers with grand promises of economic revolution. The currency, however, was as bizarre as its creator. Each Rouger was a small, oddly shaped piece of metal with Cornelius’s face stamped on one side and a random animal on the other – from alligators to bewildered-looking chickens.
The reasons for the Rougers’ spectacular failure were as numerous as the mosquitoes in a Louisiana summer:
- Bizarre Valuation: Cornelius decided that the value of a Rouger would change with the phases of the moon. Full moon? Your Rouger might buy you a loaf of bread. New moon? Good luck getting a stick of gum.
- Confusing Denominations: Instead of sensible denominations, Cornelius issued Rougers in 3.5, 7/8, and 16 2/3 increments, claiming it would “sharpen the mind.”
- Counterfeit Crisis: With no uniform shape or size, counterfeit Rougers popped up faster than toadstools in the bayou. Even children started minting them as part of their games.
- The Goldtooth Tax: Cornelius imposed a “small” fee of 0.275 Rougers for every transaction made with Rougers, payable directly to him. This not only confused people but also led to a shortage of 1/4 Rougers for change.
- Animal Uproar: The random animals on the Rougers led to superstitions and bizarre trade practices. People refused to accept a chicken Rouger during the month of the Rooster, fearing bad luck.
Despite Cornelius’s enthusiastic (and loud) promotions, the Rougers sank faster than a sack of beignets in the Mississippi. By the end of 1849, the Rougers were no more than a peculiar footnote in Baton Rouge’s history, and Cornelius P. Goldtooth had moved on to his next venture – alligator-powered paddle boats. But that, as they say, is another story.
