Britain's Secret Treasures
Page 23
Supernatural rivers
Native British Iron Age people often worshipped at watery places, making offerings at lakes, bogs and rivers. When the Romans invaded Britain in 43AD, they adopted many of the local customs, and incorporated local deities into the Roman pantheon (see, for example, the link between the goddesses Minerva and Senuna in the Ashwell Hoard). Worship at native shrines often continued, although practices adapted over time. Water was important in Roman belief, too – for its healing properties, in connection with fertility, and in the link between life and death.
The divide between the living human world and the underworld perhaps seemed more blurred in rivers – they might have been thought of as gateways, or portals, to the realm of the gods. Whether it was the importance of water for life, something about the perpetual motion of fresh running water, or something about the magical semi-transparency of deep water that caught their attention, we can’t be sure. What’s certain is that offerings were made at river sites and particularly at river crossings.
Roman Piercebridge
The areas in which Bob and Rolfe dive are around the site of a series of ancient bridges that crossed the River Tees along the route of the Via Principalis, also known as Dere Street, a major Roman Road linking York with Corbridge, near Hadrian’s Wall.
The modern village of Piercebridge is mostly inside the site of an original Roman fort on Dere Street, and you can still see some of the earthworks hidden under the village green. There would also have been an extended vicus (civilian settlement) by the fort, and there’s evidence of a villa, bath houses and other grand buildings in the local area. Burials outside the fort and walls are also apparent.
Research suggests that there was a pre-Roman bridge over the river that was then rebuilt as the Romans arrived in the area around 70AD, pushing northwards (it took just under thirty years for the Romans to reach this far north, following the invasion into southern Britain in 43AD). The river was wider in Roman times, and the extended stone foundations of a later Roman bridge are now around 90m south of the modern river course, sitting stranded in a field.
It’s possible that some of the artefacts Bob and Rolfe have recovered were accidental losses that fell from people’s hands when they were crossing the river. But the quantity and quality of the deposits means that these are more than just the outcome of Roman clumsiness. Soldiers may have made offerings before entering the town, or before beginning a journey to another site, or north, to the frontier. Permanent residents may also have made regular offerings to the gods at the river.
Research by Time Team in 2010 suggested that there may have been a small island in the middle of the river. It’s possible that shrines were built on the island, and people placed their offerings there. Over time, the island eroded away, leaving the offerings sitting at the bottom of the river. It’s also possible that people were throwing offerings directly into the water.
The Romans didn’t distinguish between the sacred and the secular in the way most of us do now – all aspects of life would have been infused with prayers, and people would have carried talismans and charms to stay safe, be well and bring fortune. As well as ceremonies in temples, there would also have been roadside shrines and household shrines, as well as chance opportunities for offerings at rivers and other natural features like groves of trees.
“It’s possible that some of the artefacts Bob and Rolfe have recovered were accidental losses that fell from people’s hands when they were crossing the river”
Rivers and springs are still considered sacred around the world – from the River Ganges in India, to the Holy Well at Holywell, in Flintshire, North Wales. Every time we throw a penny into a fountain or river, we echo an ancient practice linking life, belief and water. Thanks to hours of careful searching by Bob and Rolfe, we have more than 5,000 compelling artefacts that give us an insight into the everyday offerings from Roman Piercebridge.
See also:
Billingford Amulet
Ashwell Hoard and the Goddess Senuna
Canterbury Pilgrim Badges
Langstone Tankard
Holy Island Mason Hoard
Seventeen secret coins in a little brown jug
Date: In, or soon after 1562, Post Medieval
Where, when and how found: Lindisfarne, Northumberland; 2003; discovered during building work
Finder: Richard Mason
Where is it now? Stored at British Museum, London, until Treasure process completed. 1962 hoard at Great North Museum, Newcastle upon Tyne, which hopes to acquire the new discovery
www.twmuseums.org.uk
Richard Mason, a Northumberland builder, has the distinct honour of having his hoard discovery named after him. In 2003, while he was underpinning the extension on a modern house on Lindisfarne, also known as Holy Island, off the coast of Northumberland, he stumbled across a small brown jug nestled alongside a 1960s drainage pipe. Keen to complete the job, Richard popped the jug in his van and continued with his work. It then went into his garage and was forgotten about for years.
It was only in 2011, when he was having a clear out, that Richard actually examined the jug and discovered seventeen gold and silver coins inside. He alerted the authorities and the ‘Mason Hoard’ is now mid-way through assessment and inquest to determine whether it is legally classed as Treasure.
The coins
The vessel the coins were in is a common type known as a ‘Bartmann Jug’ or ‘Bellarmine Jug’. It dates to the mid-1500s, and was made in Germany. ‘Bartmann’ means ‘bearded man’ in German, and some jugs of this type have the decoration of a bearded man’s face fixed to the outside surface. These functional stoneware vessels have been found right across Europe, and were originally for food and drink – they were like the Tupperware of the 16th and 17th centuries.
Inside the jug, there were ten gold and seven silver coins. The earliest is from the late 1420s or early 1430s, minted by Henry VI (r. 1422–60), and the latest is a silver penny minted in 1562 by Elizabeth I (r. 1551–1603). The majority of the coins are more than 90% pure gold or silver. The coins minted by Henry VIII and Edward VI are from a period known as the ‘Great Debasement’, when less precious metal was put into gold and silver coinage – they’re around 80% pure.
The hoard contains six foreign coins, from France, Saxony (Germany), the Netherlands and the Papal States. In the early 1560s, Elizabeth I tried to ban the use of foreign coinage, but it’s likely that gold coins continued to be widely accepted across the country, regardless of where and when they were issued. Nonetheless, it makes the presence of the six foreign coins an interesting detail in this hoard.
The value of the coins would have been around £6 in the 1560s, a significant sum in a time when a working man would earn around £10 per year, and £40 would fund a gentleman’s lifestyle. A couple of the half-Sovereigns weigh more than 6g, but the really impressive – and unusual – coin is the silver Thaler (pronounced ‘tal-er’), weighing 28.48g (a modern £2 coin weighs 12g). Thalers were used for more than 400 years, and are the predecessors of ‘Dollars’ – still the name of more than twenty different currencies around the world.
The 1962 hoard
Incredibly, in 1962, when another builder, Alan Short, was putting the pipe at the Lindisfarne house in, he had found another, almost identical jug containing fifty silver sixpences and groats (four-pences). It must have been inches away from the Mason Hoard jug, but Alan didn’t see the other one in the soil. The latest of the coins in Alan’s jug was from Elizabeth I, dated to 1562 – the same as the Mason Hoard coin – so it’s likely that the two jugs were buried around the same time as one another.
Although the 1962 hoard has a different mix of coins, it seems like it was buried for the same reason – safekeeping. We can’t be sure why the jugs were never retrieved, but the likelihood is that these coins were buried as household or business savings. Perhaps the house was owned by a merchant, and the Mason Hoard was for international and high-value exchanges, where the fore
ign coins would be accepted, and the 1962 hoard was for local, day-to-day trading.
The 1560s were a time of great trade and Imperial expansion, but also a time of political and religious instability, particularly between England and Scotland, the Protestants and the Catholics. Raiding and fighting would almost certainly have affected people on Lindisfarne island, and it’s entirely understandable that in times of risk, the safest place for your cash was under the floorboards, in a hole in the garden, or buried in a field somewhere nearby.
We don’t know what the findspot land was used for in the 1560s – further research may begin to paint a richer picture of what happened to the people who buried their little brown jugs and never came back for them.
See also:
Girona Wreck Cameo
Raglan Ring
Daventry Visard Mask
HOW DO TREASURES GET BURIED?
People sometimes say that archaeology is rubbish – and often they’re right. Archaeological finds are often in ‘midden’ layers (old rubbish heaps) or cesspits, or have been thrown away randomly because they’re no longer of use – broken pottery, old animal bone, belts and buckles, and possibly also items like the Chinese Coin Hoard and the Kellington Dental Block.
Other items aren’t intentionally thrown away, but lost accidentally. Some treasures might have been keenly missed, like the Mourning Ring from Shropshire, while other items, like the Durham Cloth Seals, were entirely ignored.
The third group of finds are of items that were intentionally deposited. Some were buried with the intention of retrieving them at a later date, like the Nether Stowey Hoard and the Holy Island Mason Hoard. In other rare, and more recent cases, like the Hackney WWII Hoard, we can piece together the specific story behind the treasure.
A famous example of ‘safekeeping’ gone wrong is from Samuel Pepys, the diary-writer of the 1600s. In 1667, fearful that the Dutch were going to attack London, Pepys sent his father and wife Elizabeth to bury all their gold coins in the garden. When the danger of war had passed, Pepys returned to collect the coins but couldn’t locate the spot. When he finally did, he found himself almost thirty coins short. He records in his diary how furious he is about the whole episode.
Other intentional deposits are deliberate and permanent – making offerings with absolutely no intention of retrieving them. Either in a burial, or a ritual deposit that we can often only guess at, these items were sacrifices to the gods, ceremonially discarded because of a belief system, or ‘killed’ at the end of their owners’ lives. The Langstone Tankard, the Frome Hoard, the Canterbury Pilgrim Badges, Tamlaght Hoard and the Ringlemere Cup are great examples of intentional deposits.
HOW ARTEFACTS ARE DATED, ANALYSED & CONSERVED
There are a number of ways that finds can be dated. When an artefact is first examined, its shape and style, the method of manufacture, and any decorations can be used to put it into a well-known dating pattern for that type of object. The Marcus Aurelius Bust was confirmed as genuine partly because his glass eyes had been coloured by a distinctly Roman method.
Although there will always be finds that don’t exactly fit the expected design or ‘typology’ (the Kirkcaldy Heart Brooch on here is a good example), the general trend of fashions and styles holds true. Sometimes a find is so significant that it demands that the typologies are reassessed, like in the case of the Staffordshire Hoard.
Finds can sometimes be linked, albeit tentatively, to a historically documented person (like the Hawking Vervel or the Baldehildis Seal), which can give a good date. Other times a find can be linked with historical details that have been documented elsewhere – for example, by dating the uniform styles of the Fort George Toy Soldiers, or the stamps on the Durham Cloth Seals.
Coins can help date other artefacts very closely – if a piece of jewellery is found with a coin, the date on the coin can help pin down the date of the jewellery. Pottery can also help date structures and artefacts based on typologies.
One of the most familiar tools in the archaeologist’s arsenal is Radiocarbon Dating. Carbon naturally occurs in various forms, including the isotope (a chemical form of the element) called Carbon-14 (14C). Every living organism absorbs carbon from its food and the atmosphere, and when it dies, it stops absorbing new carbon. The 14C in the cells also starts to break down chemically – the longer ago something died, the more 14C is broken down.
By mapping the pattern of the 14C isotope in any sample, a ‘fingerprint’ can be determined that will show how old the organic materials are. Radiocarbon Dating can tell us when, for example, an oak tree was cut down in order to produce the Carpow Logboat, or when the pigs at Hallaton were killed.
New techniques using isotopes of other chemical elements are revealing some very interesting results. Along with carbon, we also absorb strontium, oxygen, nitrogen and sulphur isotopes from our food, and they’re laid down in our body tissues. Different geographical areas have different amounts of each form of the elements, and patterns in the elements can show what people ate, as well as where they grew up. Human remains can be used to build a much more detailed picture of who the person was, when they breathed their last, and how they’re linked to the treasures people discover. The context is an essential part of the ‘story’ of every find – without knowing exactly where a find came from, and how it went into the ground, we will never know very much about it.
Finds are conserved so that they don’t get damaged or destroyed by environmental factors. They’re often stored in controlled environments, and protected by sterile and non-reactive paper, foam or plastic. Reconstructing or repairing ancient finds is a balancing act between representing what was really found in the ground, with the wider responsibility to show the find at its best. Some people felt that the Crosby Garrett Helmet was over reconstructed and made to look almost new. Other finds, like the Frome Hoard and its 52,503 coins may never all be cleaned (here); the Tamlaght Hoard cup pieces were protected by the outer bowl but there simply isn’t enough of the cup left for it to be restored or displayed (here).
Some of the most challenging items to conserve are those made from organic materials – like the Carpow Bronze Age Logboat and the Langstone Tankard. Quick thinking from curators saved the tankard from almost-certain damage before it was conserved. The experts know that the cutting-edge techniques we have now may be considered far from ideal in the future, as our technology and understanding improves. The goal now is to always opt for conservation techniques that are reversible and to use techniques that are non-destructive to date and analyse finds, if at all possible. Once a treasure has been found, it’s the conservators’ job to ensure that it’s preserved for future generations to enjoy.
West Yorkshire Ring Hoard
Anglo-Saxon hidden treasure
Date: 900–1000AD, Medieval
Where, when and how found: West Yorkshire; 2008 & 2009; metal detecting
Finder: Frank Andrusyk
Official valuation: £171,310
Where is it now? Leeds City Museum
www.leeds.gov.uk/museumsandgalleries/
Also visit: Jorvik Viking Centre, York
www.jorvik-viking-centre.co.uk
Frank Andrusyk was metal detecting a field in west Yorkshire when he got a pretty ordinary sounding signal. He thought his machine had picked up a piece of lead, but when he dug up the earth he was surprised to see a bright, shining golden chunk – part of an ingot of gold.
He returned the next day and picked up another signal a foot away from the first – it was a gold finger ring. Scattered across the immediate area were two more rings and a fragment of a brooch.
Frank recorded the findspots and informed his local Finds Liaison Officer, Amy Downes. She organised a survey of the field to record any crucial clues about why the rings might have been buried or lost in that particular field. There weren’t any conclusive results, but Frank still felt that there might be more secrets in that field. He wasn’t wrong.
Six months later, Frank fo
und a fourth ring, 30g of almost pure gold, and a small lead spindle whorl, a weight used for spinning thread.
A mystery
The find site has not revealed any evidence of why the rings might have been deposited where they were. Archaeologists don’t think that they were part of a burial, so the most likely explanation is that they were either buried for safekeeping during a time of conflict, or stashed as the proceeds of a robbery, and no one ever returned to retrieve them.
The dating of the items raises another interesting mystery – the brooch fragment is of a style seen in the 600s AD, like in the Staffordshire Hoard or Holderness Cross. The finger rings seem to date from between 800 and 1000AD, but all the pieces were buried together at the same time. The brooch fragment would have been an antique when it went into the ground.
The ring set with a central garnet is decorated with filigree gold wire and ‘granulation’, raised dots of gold in the pattern. It’s similar to another ring discovered in North Yorkshire, another in Hertfordshire, and one in the Inner Hebrides. The decoration style is typically Anglo-Saxon, which gives us insight into the activity in the area at this time.
Unlike the valuables in the Vale of York Hoard, which are clearly Viking possessions, the west Yorkshire rings are not. The current theory is that these rings were the stashed proceeds of a robbery, rather than a family’s heirlooms buried for safekeeping. We won’t ever know what happened to the people who buried them, or whether they were Vikings or Anglo-Saxons. They could have been innocents swept up in the panic and chaos of war, or common criminals who fled, were apprehended or killed. Perhaps they did return and simply couldn’t find the hiding spot again.