How 7 friends testing a metal detector made Britain’s most valuable treasure find

LONDON — The group huddled together in the farmer’s field, staring at the dozen or so medieval silver coins. They had found one, then two, and a third — Adam Staples knew, then, this was something special.

Staples had gathered with six friends that day in 2019 to try out a new metal detector, part of a hobby in which he had indulged for years. But everyone realized, looking down at the pieces of old metal: This find could change their lives.

Everyone, that is, except the farmer.

“I was jibbering on about the Battle of Hastings,” Staples said of the entertaining exchange between him and the landowner. At the time, the farmer didn’t believe the fragile metal pieces were even coins. Unconvinced, the man fetched an old bucket for the wide-eyed hunters. Crack on, he said.

Five years later, the hoard of coins — known as the Chew Valley hoard, for the region of Somerset, England, in which they were found — has been confirmed as the most valuable treasure ever discovered in Britain. It was acquired by the South West Heritage Trust, an independent charity, for 4.3 million British pounds, or more than $5 million, which will be split among Staples, his friends and the farmer.

Staples, a longtime user of metal detectors whose hobby led him to become an auctioneer in rare coins and other antiquities, knew as soon as they had discovered the second coin that the group had stumbled on something significant.

“Whatever it is, if it’s a 1 pound coin — the next beep you get, is this another one?” he said. “You always feel like maybe this is a treasure trove of finds.”

The silver coins — 2,584 of them turned up — are known as a “hoard,” an archaeological term used to describe a collection of objects buried in ancient times, for safekeeping.

The coins come from a critical period of British history, just after the 1066 Battle of Hastings in which Anglo-Saxon King Harold II was defeated by the invading Normans under William the Conqueror.

Coins in the Chew Valley hoard contain imagery of both rulers, indicating the bounty was compiled across England’s change in rulers.

“They have the information on them as to where they were produced, where they were minted, but also the individual person responsible,” Ian Richardson, senior treasure registrar at the British Museum, said of the coins.

It has been a long process for Staples and his gang of friends, who have spent the past five years at the mercy of Britain’s tedious and intensive treasures declaration process, which requires finders of potential treasure to inform the authorities, who decide to whom the finds should belong.

By British law, “treasure” refers to any object older than 300 years and at least 10% precious metal. Single coins are not considered treasure — but two found together are.

Staples, well familiar with the rules, immediately notified one of Britain’s finds liaison officers, one of the public officials tasked with tracking potential treasure.

Not everyone is as familiar — or historically principled — as Staples and his friends. The rules governing metal detecting are notoriously fickle, vary between British territories and require dutiful adherence to reporting requirements, with potential legal consequences for failing to do so.

In Britain, people can use metal detectors on private land with the permission of the landowner, but if they discover something they believe might be considered treasure, they are required to report the item to a local coroner or liaison officer. If the item is indeed deemed treasure, it becomes property of the British government, which then manages its potential acquisition by museums. Proceeds are split between the detectorists and the landowner.

“It’s recognized that essentially, although by law the object didn’t belong to the finder or landowner, if you’re going to quote, ‘take it off them,’ it’s part of this relationship to provide a reward to them that’s equal to the market value,” said Richardson.

A key goal, Richardson said, is to prevent goods from disappearing into the black market.

The process can get messy, both legally and personally. In 2019, two hobby detectorists were sentenced to prison after they discovered a Viking-era hoard in the West Midlands of England, failed to declare it and appeared to quietly sell off some of the antiquities.

Outside the courtroom, finds can divide partners and friends. Agreeing to split proceeds, after all, is much easier when finds are small.

“My first thing when hunting with new people: What are we going to do with the finds?” Staples said. “I think it’s important just to know where you stand.”

The Chew Valley hoard of coins will be displayed in museums across Britain before eventually landing permanently at the Museum of Somerset.

For Staples, the end result of the saga justified the process: It’s arduous, but done right, everyone can get a piece of the Norman-era pie.

“I’ve got no complaints,” said Staples, who was able to use his portion of the payout to buy a home. “It’s a great result.”

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.

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