Britain's Secret Treasures
Page 7
“The Royal harness boss has remained in such a beautiful state of preservation because it luckily fell on to ground that was never ploughed”
The Earl of Berkeley was a loyal supporter of the King, and owned a grand residence called The Durdans, a house in the Epsom area, very close to the harness boss findspot. Thanks to the famous diary keeping of John Evelyn, we know King Charles II visited The Durdans in 1662 and again in 1664, and we can even pinpoint one particular evening that the friends spent together at the Earl’s house.
Under 1 September 1662, Evelyn wrote in his diary: ‘Being invited by Lord Berkeley, I went to Durdans, where [I] dined with his Majesty, the Queen, Duke, Duchess, Prince Rupert, Prince Edward and an abundance of noblemen.’
One simple line might reveal the moment the harness boss was lost. Travelling to and from The Durdans with a retinue comprising dozens of horses, it’s very likely that the Epsom Harness Boss fell from one of King Charles II’s steeds and rolled into a field. Normally archaeology can’t pin down artefacts to specific events, but this seems to be a noteworthy exception. The Royal harness boss has remained in such a beautiful state of preservation because it luckily fell on to ground that was never ploughed.
Finder Mark Davison has shared his remarkable discovery with the public by loaning the piece to Bourne Hall Museum in Ewell.
See also:
Inverness Shoulder-belt Plate
Boar Badge of Richard III
Hawking Vervel
Helmet Cremation Burial
A rare burial in Iron Age Kent
Date: 75–25BC, Iron Age
Where, when and how found: near Canterbury, Kent; 2012; metal detecting
Finder: Trevor Rogers
Where is it now? British Museum, London, undergoing assessment. Canterbury Museum hopes to acquire it through the Treasure process
www.canterbury.co.uk/Canterbury-Museums.aspx
Get involved: Canterbury Archaeological Trust runs courses and events, and also welcomes volunteers and supporters www.canterburytrust.co.uk Dover Archaeological Group run excavations in the local area
Trevor Rogers is an experienced metal detectorist, and in late 2012, on farmland outside Canterbury, he made an extraordinary discovery. He carefully lifted his find, buried a bag of lead fishing weights in the hole so he knew where to go back to, and took his Treasure home. When he got home, he called Andrew Richardson, the Finds Manager at the Canterbury Archaeological Trust, and said that he thought he’d found a Celtic bronze helmet. Nothing of the sort had ever been found in Kent, and very few parallels have been found across Britain or even on the continent – if the find really was an early bronze helmet, it would be very rare indeed.
The following morning, at his house, Trevor showed Andrew a Late Iron Age brooch, a fragment of burnt bone and an almost complete Iron Age bronze helmet. The bone had been inside the helmet, and the brooch was from the soil slightly higher up. There was more bone at the findspot, but Trevor hadn’t dug more than he had to – once he realised what he’d discovered, he knew that every layer of soil and bone would be incredibly valuable for putting this find in its archaeological context. The find was declared to the Coroner, as the helmet and brooch together constitute Treasure, as a prehistoric base metal assemblage.
A 2m x 2m excavation at the findspot was organised and the full detail of this extraordinary treasure emerged: it was a human cremation burial, where the brooch had probably been used to fasten a textile or leather bag holding the fragments of burned bone. This bag had then been placed inside the upturned helmet. The helmet had then been buried in a shallow circular hole and covered over. The distinctive style of the brooch dates the cremation to the 1st century BC, placing it firmly in the Late Iron Age.
“It was sheer luck that the helmet hadn’t been struck and destroyed, although a section of damage to the helmet’s rim is probably from a glancing blow by a plough blade”
The actual cremation of the body was completed at a different, unidentified site. The deceased would have been set on a pyre of wood that was allowed to burn down and, once cool, the remaining fragments of burned bone were collected and buried. No other evidence of cremation burials or inhumations (body burials) were found in the area surrounding the helmet findspot – the helmet burial was either isolated, other evidence has been destroyed, or the burials were widely spread out.
Deep, modern plough marks had cut the soil either side of the helmet burial pit – it was sheer luck that the helmet hadn’t been struck and destroyed, although a section of damage to the helmet’s rim is probably from a glancing blow by a plough blade.
This wasn’t a richly furnished chiefly burial, but clearly a person buried with such a beautiful and precious helmet must have been significant.
Romans in Kent
In 55 and 54BC, Julius Caesar began the first invasion of Britain. He later left to focus on fighting the Gauls on the Continent, but not before Roman troops set foot on British soil. It’s possible this helmet was worn by a Roman soldier, and that the grave is Roman. But the tradition of cremating a body and burying the remains in a bag fastened with brooches is a practice linked to native cultures in Late Iron Age Kent, which makes it much more likely that this is the grave of a native man.
He might have acquired the helmet during his lifetime, and as an act of respect his mourners buried him inside his most treasured possession. Perhaps he had fought on the continent during the Gallic Wars of 58–50BC, and brought his exotic helmet home with him. British warriors might have travelled across the English Channel to the areas that are now modern-day France and Belgium to fight with the Gauls against the Romans, and also with the Romans against the Gauls – as mercenaries, they were warriors for hire and would fight for whoever paid them. It’s also possible that the helmet was brought over by displaced Gallic refugees making a new home in south-east Britain. One other helmet cremation burial like this has been discovered in Belgium – indicating the extent of the political, military and social links between Iron Age communities even before the Romans arrived to ‘civilise’ the natives.
Analysis of the finds and of the site is still underway, and much more about this unusual find will be known in the future.
See also:
Anarevitos Stater
Ringlemere Gold Cup
THE STRANGE AND ANCIENT LAWS THAT GOVERNED ‘TREASURE’
Before 1996, the laws concerning Treasure were some of the oldest in the book. ‘Treasure Trove’ is detailed in a document from 1250, written by a noble called Henry de Bracton. He states that, ‘Things such as treasure are said to belong to no one by reason of lapse of time. Also where the owner of the thing does not appear . . . by natural law now become the property of the sovereign’.
Anything that couldn’t be traced to an original owner, whether it be a stray cow, goods from a shipwreck, or items found in or on the ground, belonged to the King or Queen, not the finder or the landowner. There was initially no suggestion of a reward, or a share in the value – it belonged to the monarch, and that was that. The law was most often used for gold and silver – items made of other materials weren’t normally claimed by the Crown. And if you didn’t reveal your find, you were no better than a thief and would be treated as such.
Henry de Bracton describes the crime of concealing Treasure Trove as ‘a serious act of presumption against the King, his dignity, and Crown’. A Coroner, an official of the Crown also responsible for investigating unexpected deaths, had to go out and investigate suspected cases of people finding Treasure and not declaring it. The tell-tale signs might be that the finder ‘carries himself more abundantly in feeding and more richly in dress’. Well-fed, well-dressed peasants were very suspicious. The law was also intended to discourage rich people from hiding their wealth to avoid taxation – if undeclared valuables were found, their owner would either be punished for tax evasion, or the treasure would be claimed by the Crown.
The laws were often unfairly applied – some finders were re
warded for their honesty, others were punished. One case from London in the year 1400 records that a labourer, Peter White from Kensyngton [Kensington], found 35 shillings’ worth of silver coins while he was working. When he went to pick them up they were ‘mouldy and crumbled like dust’. Peter handed in the surviving coins, 5 shillings’ worth, and was promptly arrested. The officers insisted that because he had found 35 shillings, he owed the Crown 35 shillings, and he would have to pay up the extra. Perhaps they suspected he’d stashed a few coins for himself, or perhaps they were simply cruel – either way he was only pardoned when it was clear he was destitute.
Until relatively recently, the historical significance of these Treasure Trove finds was often considered to be less important than the resale value – frequently the weight of actual gold or silver. If you were the finder and you didn’t want to risk getting a measly reward, the quickest way to liquidate the value of the treasure, literally, was to melt it down and recast the metal. Sadly this means that many hundreds, if not thousands, of precious artefacts have met their end at the bottom of a jeweller’s crucible.
It was only in 1886 that finders became legally entitled to a reward. The change ensured that more finders were willing to come forward, but sometimes even when they did the law didn’t protect the finds themselves. For an item to be classed as Treasure Trove in law, it had to be proved that the original owner had intended to return for it. If the items had been buried in a ritual deposit or a grave, with no intention of them ever being recovered, or had been lost accidentally, they weren’t Treasure Trove. Discoveries like the Sutton Hoo ship burial, or the Holderness Cross in this book were therefore not Treasure Trove and so the finder and landowner could do what they liked with them. Thankfully, in both these cases, the finders and landowners have ensured that the finds have remained in the public domain.
See the Get Involved section to find out exactly how the current laws work.
Anarevitos Stater
A Kentish kings’ coalition coin
Date/period: 10BC–10AD, Late Iron Age
Where, when and how found: Near Dover, Kent; 2010; metal detecting
Finder: Danny Baldock
Where is it now? British Museum, London
www.britishmuseum.org
Amateur archaeologist Danny Baldock was metal detecting in September 2010 when he found a single gold coin of remarkable importance. Dating to the decades just before or after Christ’s birth, the coin represents a previously unknown Kentish ruler on one side, with the name of an already-known ruler on the other side.
The type of coin is known as a ‘stater’, a 5g gold disc that has been stamped on both sides. Most coins have an image of the issuing authority on the front, the obverse, and another, often decorative design on the reverse. On modern British coins the Queen’s head is on the obverse. The same pattern often holds true for ancient coins as well, but it isn’t always the case for coins in the British Iron Age.
On the obverse of this coin is a back-to-back crescent design with the letters EPPI in the segments, standing for Eppillus, a king often associated with the Atrebates and Cantii tribes in southern Britain.
On the reverse is a stylised horseman, and the inscription ANA (or AVA) above and REVITO below, which makes up the native British name, Anarevito, Anarevitos, Avarevito or Avarevitos.
No one knew about this ruler before, and we have no other sources that mention him. Until more evidence is unearthed, we can’t be more clear about his true name.
Two kings
The fact that there are two kings named on the stater Danny found suggests two possible explanations. The first is that the leader Anarevitos was declaring that his authority came directly from the lineage of the well-known and well-regarded Eppillus. Throughout history leaders have claimed authority through their ancestry. By naming Eppillus on one side of his coins, and by issuing coins at all, Anarevitos was attempting to legitimise his rule. Perhaps the details of him succeeding to power were a little hazy, or he was one of a number of candidates, or he simply wanted to proclaim his greatness – we can’t be sure.
The alternative explanation is that Anarevitos ruled at the same time as Eppillus, and this coin represents a leadership coalition. By declaring a power-sharing agreement on coinage, perhaps they were attempting to unite factions in conflict, or bring together a number of local chiefdoms to face an external threat together.
The first attempted invasion of Britain by Rome was in 55–54BC, under Julius Caesar. It was ultimately unsuccessful, and it took almost a hundred years before the Romans tried again (they successfully invaded in 43AD). Julius Caesar wrote an account of his campaign against Britain, and described Kent as being ruled by four kings. This has been interpreted to mean that the region was divided into four smaller independent kingdoms, but perhaps it was a less straightforward arrangement – a shifting network of local leaders all jostling for supremacy over the same lands and people, using a combination of conquest and alliance.
“The alternative explanation is that Anarevitos ruled at the same time as Eppillus, and this coin represents a leadership coalition”
The later Iron Age population of Kent shared a number of cultural traits with other groups in south-east England and those of northern France, including the tradition of cremation burial and the early adoption of coinage. In the last decades before the Roman invasion of 43AD they also used coins with Roman-influenced designs and Latin inscriptions. By the Roman period the people of the north and east Kent were designated as Cantii or Cantiaci, but it is unclear whether they existed as a unified tribe before the Conquest. It had previously been thought that the kingdoms described by Caesar were unified soon after his invasions, but the discovery of the Anarevitos Stater and other finds over the last fifteen years suggests that rival kings may have continued to wrestle for power for much longer than had been thought.
Early in the 1st century AD, Kent fell under the control of Cunobelinus, whose power was based on territories to the north of the River Thames.
Cunobelinus
Cunobelinus has secured a place in history as one of the great British kings. He’s also known as Cymbeline, in Welsh as Cynfelyn. He’s mentioned by the medieval historian Geoffrey of Monmouth, and Shakespeare wrote Cymbeline based on his life. Under his rule, the kingdoms of Kent were forced together, and at his peak, Cunobelinus ruled across Essex, Kent, Hertfordshire, Bedfordshire and parts of Buckinghamshire and Cambridgeshire. Cunobelinus died around two years before the Roman invasion, and it’s been suggested that power struggles between his sons following his death in fact triggered the Emperor Claudius to invade.
When the Romans invaded in 43AD under Emperor Claudius, they established a number of the south-east tribes as semi-independent entities – each tribal area was made a civitas, an administrative county with a capital town. The capital of the Cantii was established at Canterbury.
This precious coin was bought by the British Museum to be displayed and studied. It comes from an incredibly dynamic time in our history, and Danny’s find lets us all peek into this two-thousand-year-old power struggle.
See also:
Winchester Gold Hoard
Vale of York Hoard
French Forgery Hoard
Near Lewes Hoard
Bronze Age adornments from home and away
Date: 1400–1250BC, Middle Bronze Age
Where, when and how found: Near Lewes, East Sussex; 2011; metal detecting
Finder: David Lange
Official valuation: £15,500
Where is it now? Sussex Archaeological Society at Barbican House Museum, Lewes, hopes to acquire
www.sussexpast.co.uk
David Lange, a veteran detector and archaeology enthusiast, was searching a grass field near Lewes, East Sussex, in March 2011, when he picked up a faint signal. He dug down to reveal a small piece of twisted wire. In the surrounding soil were a couple more pieces of twisted and coiled wire. Then he saw an axe head that he recognised as being Bronze
Age – at least 2,800 years old. He then saw the fragmented edge of a large ceramic pot that seemed to be filled with more metal artefacts. To preserve as much evidence as possible, ideally David would have sought archaeological help immediately, but he decided to lift the pot out whole, took it home and carefully began to remove the objects from it. At each stage he took photos, trying to accurately record his find. But the hoard he was trying to record was bigger than he had imagined.
The pot contained parts of approximately seventy-nine objects, including bracelets, necklace fragments, pins, gold discs, torcs, finger rings, clothing ornaments, wires, beads and axe heads. David reported his find to the county Finds Liaison Officer, Stephanie Smith, who arranged for a team of archaeologists to excavate the site and assess the finds.
They all proved to date from the Bronze Age – a prehistoric period running from around 2400BC to around 800BC. It’s the time following the Neolithic, or Late Stone Age, where we get the first evidence of metal technology. People first used gold, silver and copper, mostly for prestige ornaments and jewellery. Then, around 2200BC, there was a significant technological leap to making bronze – specifically mixing tin and copper to make a strong and attractive metal.
The crucial thing is that tin ore and copper ore never occur in the same place naturally – so in order to make bronze, not only do you need the specialist knowledge of how to prepare and mix the metals, you also need a long-distance network of contacts so you can get hold of both the ingredients. This is what makes the Bronze Age such a special period in British prehistory.