There’s gold under them thar fields
Or is there? A growing band of metal detectorists are scouring the countryside for buried treasure. The lucky few really do strike gold
Roger Field looks at the curious pastime of metal detecting
Ithrill to Bernard Cornwell’s The Last Kingdom books and TV series (Netflix). Long-haired Danes attack Anglo-saxon defenders with sword, axe and spear. Bones shatter and flesh is pierced. However, while the graphic depictions of the befores, durings and afters of that long ago struggle for England are doubtless accurate, history indicates that most of those warriors – unless they had a Darwin Award death wish – were usually circumspect about getting into a fight unless they were pretty sure they were going to win. Battles tended to be difficult to predict and the consequences of defeat could be cataclysmic. Nearly the entire Anglo-saxon (English) ruling class was wiped out at Hastings in 1066. Imagine yourself a soldier before a fight, whether against a band of berserker Vikings, the cocksure French at Agincourt or, even as late as 1815, the imperious Napoleon at Waterloo. Your wealth, whether you were a noble or a peasant, was pretty much your land, your animal(s), the objects in your home and what you carried on you. For the rich that might be coins, jewellery and, perhaps, a gold or silver cross or reliquary in your tent (gold was rare and super valuable in Western Europe until the discovery of the Americas). Maybe a few silver or bronze coins for ordinary folk. So, what to do with them when danger threatened? (High street banks only started to become widespread around the mid/late 1800s as places to deposit money safely.) Cornwell’s Earl Uhtred of Bebbanburg – surrounded by his household warriors – goes into battle, oozing arrogance, with thick torques (bands) of silver around his neck and wrists; much of his worldly wealth. However, for most folk, the sensible solution – whether about to advance into battle or worrying at home – was to bury your valuables somewhere ‘secret’ and hope to be around to recover them when the threat had passed. Although, given the number of metal detector finds of buried hoards, many never did.
For example, it is believed that the staggering, circa AD600-650, Staffordshire
Hoard (3,500 pieces of, mainly, gold, valued at £3.285m) discovered by a detectorist in 2009, is probably itself an ancient ‘hoard’ of captured and broken up ‘bits’ that was buried to keep it ‘safely’ hidden. Which it sort of was in that the enemy – whoever they were – never found it.
It is not only gold and silver that can be worth a fortune. In 2010, the Crosby Garrett (in Cumbria) Roman Cavalry Helmet was discovered buried 10in down by a detectorist not far from some suspected Roman fortifications. He and his father than been sweeping the adjacent fields ‘for a couple of years’ and had only unearthed a few coins – wilful, blind, grim determination is a useful character trait for detectorists – until, hey presto! And huge controversy. As the helmet was copper alloy it was not ‘treasure’ and the finder and the owner of the land were free to sell it. Deaf to pleas that they donate it to the nation, or at least sell it to a museum consortium privately, they put it into Christie’s. Estimated at £200,000 to £300,000, it sold for £2.3m.
Or, another scenario. I told a farmer friend I was writing this article. He said he was just off to the top of a field with a metal detector where his father had managed to drop his wedding ring. Will he find it today, or will it be discovered by a detectorist 100 years hence? In March 2020 reports were published about a chunky 0.7oz gold ring, dated circa AD580-650, which was unearthed near Saffron Walden. What made this super-rare was the Christian/pagan images, including one raptor – probably a goshawk – which clearly has jesses hanging from its ankles. Believed to have been made in the royal East Anglian workshops, this ring pushes back the provable date for the sport of falconry in England by a hundred-plus years. Was it dropped? Was there a fight? There were certainly tears before bedtime when that chunky bit of bling went AWOL. It is now in Saffron Walden Museum.
Or, the leather on your fine silver spurs gets brittle and one breaks, perhaps out hunting, and is lost. For millennia folk have been hiding and losing their treasures all over our green and pleasant land. Which explains the legions of bat-eared detectorists tramping our fields, listening for the tell-tale bleep that tells them they might have discovered buried treasure and not another blasted bottle top or rusty nail.
But only 6in to 10in deep, which is as far down as most machines go for coin-sized objects. Any deeper requires more sophisticated, and far more expensive, equipment. It’s deep enough, however, as great stuff can be found at this depth. In fact, today’s detectors are so much cheaper, lighter and ‘better’ that they have already opened up detecting to a much wider demographic, some of whom have spent the past 15 to 20 years sweeping and stripping the most obvious spots – battlefields, settlements, main routes. Fifteen years ago I was buying complete, medieval (even Roman), excavated but intact ‘knight’s’ spurs – many doubtless from European battlefields – on ebay for about £20 each. Looking at similar items today, with a now limited supply, I would need to add a zero.
Which brings us to The Treasure Act, 1996, which covers ‘finds’ of treasure in England, Wales and Scotland (Northern Ireland and the Isle of Man have their own laws). The government (the ‘Crown’) says that if something(s) was hidden more than 300 years ago, and one or more of those items contain more than 10% silver or gold (and is subsequently found) it is deemed ‘Treasure’ and belongs to the Crown. A single coin does not constitute treasure as there is a presumption that it was lost rather than hidden. The stipulations get more complex than this (see consultation websites in panel). For example, 10 non-gold/silver coins counts as treasure as that was probably the contents of a buried purse – the leather now long decayed. However, the government, realising that if they simply said: “Hand it over, it’s ours,” few would hand anything in, pay a ‘reward’ for recovered treasure. That should be its fair ‘market value’. ‘Experts’ are meant to agree what would be the likely hammer price at auction and hence the ‘reward’ paid. However, as readers of my monthly Under the Hammer column well know, really good stuff – the bits we all covet – often go well above the auctioneer’s mid-estimate. Cue potential for bitter arguments about true value. For example, Christie’s ‘conservatively’ mid-estimated £250,000 for the Crosby Garrett helmet. It fetched £2.3m.
That eye-watering sum came with an unintended consequence for the farmer: a plague of archaeologists, trowels sharpened, who then excavated the site. Although ‘they’ insist it is unlikely they will want to excavate a site on which finds are recovered – detector finds need to be logged and recorded – as they don’t have the time and resources for any but the biggest finds, it is well worth bearing in mind when wondering whether to grant permission to a detectorist(s) desperate to sweep your land.
Landowners, tenants and detectorists need to sign a ‘Finds Agreement’ (available from the CLA or NFU) before the detector is ever flicked to ‘on’. Lest, like that first, idle ‘ranging’ cast on an otherwise empty salmon river that hooks the only fish – and a monster, at that – of the day, it might be that inital sweep that proves fruitful. Followed by near guaranteed acrimony and arguments because, human nature being what it is, there’s nothing like a ‘pot of gold’ to get people falling out.
Lost or buried objects are presumed to belong, if not to the Crown as ‘Treasure’, then to the landowner – not to the tenant, if different. Don’t forget, every last bit of land in this country (foreshore and riverbeds included) belongs to someone. Which means tenanted land first needs an Owner-tenant Finds
Christie’s estimated £250,000 for the Crosby Garrett helmet; it fetched £2.3m
Agreement and then an Owner/tenant (as agreed) Agreement with the detectorist(s). It should denote where he can search, what he can and cannot do, what happens to finds and who gets what percentage if something is found – not necessarily that simple. If a detectorist found an ancient sword on my land I wouldn’t want him selling it. But he will want money. Unless he’s a collector/ hoarder and doesn’t want to sell anything. And I do… It is critical to first agree things in writing lest he does strike figurative ‘gold’.
Finds that qualify under the Act must be reported within 14 days and are then subject to a decision-making process by the coroner (see panel) as to whether it is ‘Treasure’ and Crown property and then, if it is, whether it will be ‘disclaimed’ and returned – more than 50% are – or a museum wants it and a reward given instead. The coroner needs to know to whom to pay the reward or whence to send the disclaimed object. All part of your Finds Agreement(s). Which will include the obligation for all parties to be adequately insured. Whilst a Finds Agreement is ‘best practice’, it can never be a guarantee that everything will work smoothly. For example, a landowner will only know someone is trousering things if he catches him at it. Best practice, again, is to check he is a member of NCMD or FID: detectorist bodies with strict codes of conduct.
Detecting can, however, work to everyone’s benefit. On 22 April, a fine silver penny of King Edward ‘the Martyr’ (AD975-978; came to a ‘sticky’ end at Corfe Castle, Dorset, some 75 years after the fictional Uhtred was strutting his blood-splattered stuff) was found 5in down in a field on the Isle of Wight. The detectorist was ‘ready to give up for the day’ after only finding three lead bullets. It fetched £9,000, £2,000 over top estimate, at Dix Noonan Webb. Not a bad payday.