and what a wonderful story the land has to tell!
I’ve wanted a metal detector since I was a boy reading comic books and dreaming of lost pirate treasure. When I finally received one for my birthday a few years ago, I couldn’t wait to get started. Of course, you can’t just run outside and start digging—there are permissions, memberships, and national databases to navigate. But those necessary steps are simply the groundwork for a far more rewarding adventure.
I should tell you right away that you won’t find Roman hoards, Spanish pieces of eight, or gold bullion here. What you will find are the real treasures: the everyday bits and pieces of life from centuries gone by. A simple coin, a broken bit of pottery, a humble button—each one is a fascinating artifact that hasn’t seen the light of day in a hundred years or more. My imagination runs rampant as I try to piece together the life of the person who once owned it, and how it came to rest just beneath my feet.
I hope you find these stories as interesting as I do.
My detecting journey, “Every Find Tells a Story” is now available in the Dun Valley Magazine!
Find 1: Pewter school bell
Find 2: A glimpse of Roman turmoil
Find 3: The Bovine Barrier
Find 4: The Glorious First of June
Find 5: First Hole Silver!
Find 6: The Highs and Lows of Metal Detecting
Find 7: Laundry Day, 1936
Find 8: The Dagger out of Time
Find 9: The Weight of the Mystery
Find 10: Nearly 3 grams, nearly 4 millennia
Find 11: A scattering of Shot
Find 12: No Longer Child’s Play
Find 13: Girl Guide Pixie Promise Badge
Find 14: Thimbles of the Grimstead Oak
Find 15: Hunter’s Watch: Found!
Find 16: The Great Recoinage of William III
Find 17: The Thimble in my Palm
Find 18: The Watchful Eye
Find 19: A Florin’s a Florin!
Find 20: A Chip off the Ol’ Flint
Find 21: A Tiny Toggle
Find 22: The Master’s Mark
Find 23: Just a Jetton
Find 24: The City in the Country
Find 25: The Emerald in the Earth
Find 26: The Clasp Maketh the Garb
Find 10: Nearly 3 grams, Nearly 4 Millennia Later
Last modified on 2026-01-23 09:11:52 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
The still air over the Wiltshire plains was pleasant for late February, yet the gusts of wind from the southwest still held that sharp, late-winter bite. With the sun a welcome warmth on my back, I searched across the rolling hills in a village just south of Salisbury. The flint-strewn ground looked stark and cropped short by nervous sheep who tend to give me a wide berth, especially during lambing season.
My permission stands on one of the highest points in the area, certainly not as high as Pepperbox Hill, but from this one location I can see the the undulating, hazy edges of the New Forest in one direction and the distant, reassuring spire of Salisbury Cathedral in the other. I started thinking about that view 600 years earlier before the cathedral’s spire dominated the landscape and I almost missed the clear, bell-like tone from the detector. It was a high-pitched, clean signal that immediately felt different—an absolute purity among the usual grunts and chatter. I backed up and ran the coil over the spot again, confirming the precise location.
The Moment of Discovery
Retrieving a tiny target amongst this dense flint and rock is often a frustrating task, but the distinct signal brought a calm, careful focus. On such ground, a shovel is useless; a stout digging tool and patience are the best friends one can have. What eventually emerged from the cold, dark earth gave me pause: a small, rectangular fragment of worked gold. It possessed that unmistakable, deep lustre—the shade of yellow only antiquity imparts.
This was clearly not a natural nugget, but something crafted by human hands, its original purpose veiled by the centuries. It was truncated at both ends, the breaks looking like deliberate, ancient cuts, and I judged it to weigh barely three grams. This small weight belies its immense historical significance. (A clear, focused photograph of the object is essential here, capturing its scale and colour.)
I slipped off my gloves, the cold momentarily forgotten, to properly appreciate the piece. Turning it carefully in my palm, I examined its artistry. It was crafted with five delicate, parallel ribs, and along the sides of each rib runs a beautifully incised zig-zag pattern. The reverse, in quiet contrast, remained plain and smooth. This level of miniature craftsmanship, scaled down to such a small fragment, speaks volumes about the value—both material and cultural—that was placed upon it.
The Historical Footprint and Personal Meaning
Holding this tiny piece of gold, feeling its surprising weight, my mind immediately travelled back to the Bronze Age (roughly 2,400–800 BC). The specific style of decoration strongly resonated with images I’ve seen in archaeological reports. A consultation with the Portable Antiquities Scheme (PAS) database quickly affirmed this initial instinct, revealing comparable finds of ribbed gold strips identified as Bronze Age ribbons.
These fragments are often interpreted by archaeologists as pieces of fine hair ornaments or elaborate clothing decorations. Yet, the truncated ends are particularly compelling. In the Bronze Age, gold was often cut to precise weights for exchange, sometimes called “ring money” or “segmental currency.” I pictured the original owner, some four millennia gone, carefully snipping this segment from a larger piece—perhaps a bracelet or torc—to purchase a beast or some precious commodity. How gutted they must have been to lose this valuable commodity, perhaps sinking into the mud, its purpose unfulfilled.
The quiet loss of that ancient person stands in stark contrast to the profound elation I felt in that moment, a feeling that cemented my own journey as a true detectorist. The unspoken tradition among detectorists suggests a celebratory ‘gold dance,’ yet the overwhelming feeling here, in the quiet solitude of the field, was one of profound respect and stewardship. I allowed myself a small, discreet jig once I was safely off the exposed side of the hill, satisfying the superstition. Tradition noted, I headed back to the farmhouse to present my find to the astonished landowner, ensuring the correct reporting procedure was initiated immediately. This small, magnificent object is a tangible, direct link to an individual from three millennia ago. It is a humbling honour to be the person who brought their story back into the light.
Rights Holder: Salisbury and South Wiltshire Museum
Find 2: A glimpse of Roman turmoil
Last modified on 2025-10-07 08:38:49 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
It was a blustery autumn day today, with the wind carrying a chill straight off the Wiltshire plains. The sky was high and scattered with racing clouds, giving a sense of restless energy to the landscape. I was working a field not far from a known Roman trackway, a place where, even now, the ghosts of the past feel close at hand.
The signal was strong but a bit jumpy, and when the object came out, the reality was stark: a Roman nummus, broken cleanly in two. It’s a sad state for an ancient piece of currency, but I find that even broken objects speak volumes. They show the wear, the use, and perhaps the deliberate abandonment of a person whose life was fractured by the same pressures that broke the coin.
This copper alloy nummus, tentatively identified, is a compelling link to the reign of the usurper Magnentius, placing it squarely in the tumultuous period of AD 350-353. Magnentius seized control of the Western Roman Empire by assassinating the legitimate Emperor Constans, plunging the entire state into a bitter civil war. This tiny, worn coin, likely struck far away in one of the major mints of Roman Gaul, perhaps Lyons or Arles, somehow made its way across the Channel to Wiltshire.
It’s an important moment to reflect on the difference between the physical find and its historical meaning. The object itself is worn and broken, but research, either by myself or the experts at the museum, fills in the details physically worn away by time. It is this detective work that confirmed the coin’s type and revealed the truly profound irony of its inscription. Though now worn almost smooth, the original type is believed to be FELICITAS REI PUBLICAE, which translates to “The Happiness of the Republic.” Imagine holding this coin during the civil war it funded—a small, brazen lie promising stability amidst brutal conflict.
This find also connects beautifully to the landscape’s story, following on from my recent Iron Age Stater discovery. We’ve moved from native independence to the slow, chaotic collapse of the empire that eventually supplanted it.
It reminds me that every worn detail on this broken coin tells a story, not just of the person who once held it, but of an entire empire fractured by ambition. The ground always has a story to tell, and sometimes, that story is a poignant, broken promise. Every find tells a story.
Rights Holder: Salisbury and South Wiltshire Museum
Here’s one in better condition found in Oxfordshire:
Find 9: The Weight of the Mystery
Last modified on 2025-10-29 08:04:53 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
A clear, bright day with a nip in the air, the kind of weather that makes you want to stride out across the Wiltshire plains just to keep warm. I was detecting a piece of ground in East Grimstead, not far from the quiet meander of the River Dun—a landscape as quiet and contemplative as the distant Holy Trinity Church I could just make out around the river’s bend. I found it perfect for pondering the deeper layers of local history.
The signal was strong and solid—a good lump of metal—and what emerged was a semi-circular piece of lead alloy several centimetres thick. No wonder it rang out so strongly in my headphones. It was smooth, whitish grey, and decidedly enigmatic at first glance.
I was immediately taken with it, imagining it to be a small, charming find. Freed from the dirt I turned it over and over in my hands imagining that it must be a little pig figurine, perhaps a hand-cast toy for a child in the village. The white patina of the old lead gave it a definite air of antiquity. I thought about how lead was used as ubiquitously in the past as aluminium is today.
My curiosity was piqued, and my enthusiasm was matched by the Finds Liaison Officer. She studied its crudely cast shape and, looking at the same details, speculated that it was a bear, suggesting its age was much older than I thought. Perhaps a personal charm or amulet? For a wonderful moment, the object had a mystical history—a little, hand-carved talisman lost on the riverbank.
But this find provides a perfect lesson in the importance of expert analysis. What began as a fanciful pig, then became an enigmatic bear, was, in the end, a lead back-weight from a hickory wooden golf club, likely dating anywhere from 1850 to 1970. The specific shape—flat, semi-circular with small protrusions—is characteristic of weights inserted into the head of a golf club to perfect its balance and swing.
This object might have sat in my collection forever mislabeled if I hadn’t turned it over to the experts at the museum. The truth turned out to be far more interesting than a child’s toy, offering a slice of sporting and local history I would never have imagined on my own. It is a profound piece of humility for any detectorist, confirming that the ground always has a story to tell, but we sometimes need a little expert guidance to read it correctly. Every find tells a story.
Key Details:
• Unique ID: WILT-4DB178
• Object Type: Post-Medieval to Modern Lead Alloy Golf Club Weight
• Historical Context: Likely a back-weight used to balance the head of a hickory-shafted wooden golf club (c. 1850-1970). The object’s true identity was only confirmed after specialist analysis, following initial misidentification as a lead animal figure. Found in East Grimstead near the River Dun.
• Dimensions: Length: 46.6 mm; Weight: 58.97 g
Find 8: The Dagger out of Time
Last modified on 2026-04-05 18:48:30 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
The most profound moments in this hobby often aren’t about glinting gold or silver, but about the quiet conversation we have with the past. The spring light in February can be deceptive—warm on the face, cold on the back, but hinting at the promise of warmer days. In a hilly pasture, with a long view over the Wiltshire countryside, the spire of Salisbury Cathedral a delicate needle on the horizon, one can’t help but feel the immense weight of time. I am constantly reminded of just how long Wiltshire has been populated.
It was on one such uncharacteristically warm afternoon that I was walking, the steady, rhythmic sweep of the detector a calming metronome to my thoughts. Keeping it ‘low and slow’ as the boffins of metal detecting always advise. Patience is a valuable tool, and though there weren’t many finds so far, the pleasant weather and the distance from the highway and even the farmhouse had put me in a mood that didn’t mind how far apart the targets were.
And then came a signal that felt different—high and clear and resonant, a bell like tone that promised something more substantial than a nail or aluminium. Eagerly I began to clear the soil, which chose to slow me down by being full of flint and rocks that needed freeing by hand. And I was glad for the reminder to take care when I exposed the distinctive patina of long buried copper alloy. A shade of green like nothing else. I knew I had found something Old. I admit I got a bit excited, not that I had any idea what I’d dug up at this point, but with the simple thrill of discovery, of being the first person in millennia to see this object.
The find, as it turned out, was a short dagger blade, split into two pieces. One fragment was a beautiful section of the blade, featuring two delicate, raised ribs, their form still visible after all these years. The other was a smaller section of the tang, the part that would have been set into a wooden or bone handle. It was an almost complete puzzle, right there in the soil, minus only the very tip of the dagger. My mind whirred at that instant, just thinking about the absolute gulf of time between the hands that buried it and mine as I photographed it and then carefully placed it in a small plastic case in my backpack. I sent the photo to the FLO (Finds Liaison Officer) at Salisbury Museum, and they were immediately interested. I was able to turn it in to them less than a week later. Then came the long wait to hear what they thought of it. I gave the location a wide berth to avoid further disturbing the site. My thought was that I might have discovered some grave goods and that more experienced eyes might need to examine the location as I found it.
After examination by the wonderful teams at Salisbury Museum, Wiltshire County, and finally the British Museum, the true story of the dagger began to unfold. It was identified as a Late Bronze Age piece, dating to somewhere between 1150-800 BC. But what made it truly special was its condition. The experts confirmed that the blade was not broken by a plough or the passage of time, but that the bending and transverse break were clear evidence of deliberate, ceremonial destruction, likely done just before it was laid into the ground. I was relieved to find that I hadn’t damaged it myself, but why would someone break such a fine tool? Their research suggests two compelling possibilities: a practical act, perhaps breaking the blade to be recycled into a new implement, or it was a more symbolic one, a gesture to bind two communities together or to mark a significant moment. Like the breaking of arrows to signify the end of hostilities. This gesture may explain why the actual tip of the dagger was not present, or lost nearby. Prior to finding the dagger the closest find to it was a long forgotten mole trap.
These theories–for we will never truly know–give so much more weight to the value of the find itself. I look at this dagger, and not just think about the 3000 years it lay on a hillside near Salisbury, but at the intentional action of the person who broke it. It is a tangible link to a world where objects were imbued with deep meaning, this dagger is scarcely more than two wedge-shaped pieces of copper today, but back then, they must have represented something quite significant. And its destruction carried as much weight as its creation. I am humbled by the nature of my hobby. This dagger, though not made of gold, is considered a hoard and is of historical value, showing that some of the greatest treasures we can find are not shiny but are instead rich with the quiet resonance of a story waiting to be told.
(Rights Holder: The Portable Antiquities Scheme. Used with permission under Creative Commons.)
A link to the British Museum Finds database for this item is here.
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Find 14: Thimbles of the Grimstead Oak
Last modified on 2026-02-23 15:04:56 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
8th September 2025.
A fine, mild day today, but my thoughts are drawn back several seasons to a field near West Grimstead. We affectionately called it the ‘Bullock Field,’ a name that promised both frustration and, as it turned out, incredible reward. For several seasons, my access was limited by the four-legged tenants, and it wasn’t until they were moved on that I finally secured permission to detect a field I had long suspected held secrets.
What emerged from that field was not one, but three thimbles. A trio of small, humble objects, all discovered beneath the sprawling canopy of a great oak tree that stood watch over the ancient footpath between West and East Grimstead. Its presence alone felt significant, but what makes the story truly remarkable is the nearby ruined and enigmatic trunk of an even older tree.
The oldest thimble of the three, a Post-Medieval domed, or ‘beehive,’ thimble, dates to somewhere between 1520 and 1620. Its bronze patina and three hairline splits tell a quiet story of long use. I’ve since come to believe that this particular thimble, the oldest of my trio, was not lost under the oak that stands there today, but perhaps under the shade of its long-vanquished predecessor.
This spot was no doubt a popular place to linger. The village spring bubbled up close by, and the well-trodden footpath to East Grimstead ran right past its feet. You can almost see generations of people pausing there—a seamstress from the Tudor period resting under the first tree, a child learning to sew beneath its eventual successor, and a Victorian lady losing her thimble in the grass. It was easy to picture the ladies and children quietly sewing, chatting, and perhaps a bit cross when they realised they had lost their thimbles! It is a tangible link, a quiet reminder of the many lives that have brushed past this very spot.
It’s the way a small object like a thimble can bridge the centuries and link two great trees and countless people, that makes this hobby so profound. This just strengthens what I’ve come to believe: every find, no matter how small, tells a story.
Object Type: Post-Medieval Copper Alloy Thimble
- Image owner: Salisbury and South Wiltshire Museum, used under the Creative Commons license.
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Find 3: The Bovine Barrier
Last modified on 2026-01-18 16:55:45 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
This discovery was as much about timing as it was about technique. I was detecting on a permission that includes a barnyard usually occupied by several dozen cattle. While I’m used to a curious audience, these particular residents are entirely too inquisitive; they have a habit of following me around when I’m in the same field and it only took a single wet nose in my ear for me to decide that wasn’t worth the risk. That and the constant fear that they would step on my precious detector when I was otherwise occupied with digging, which makes it nearly impossible to focus on a find.
There are seven other fields on this property, but the barnyard—the field closest to the farm’s heart—had remained a “no-go zone” for seasons. However, on this visit, luck was on my side. The landowner had decided to keep the cattle in the barn for the morning, leaving the yard silent and empty for the first time. I didn’t waste a second. I stepped into the gate and barely 30 paces in I caught that unmistakable, sharp “zeep!” of high-quality silver.
Analysis and Context: A World in Flux
The museum’s formal analysis identifies this as a small but significant artifact from one of the most transformative periods in English history.
- Period: Tudor, specifically the reign of Henry VIII (AD 1509–1547).
- Type: A silver penny, struck at the Canterbury Mint.
- Dimensions: It weighs a mere 0.81g with a diameter of 18.8mm.
- Condition: The coin is incomplete and extremely worn. The museum notes that its state reflects an exceptionally long and active life in circulation.
This coin is a direct link to the dramatic reign of a king who forever changed the course of the nation. Struck at Canterbury, it entered a world defined by the English Reformation and the dissolution of the monasteries. The extreme wear on the silver tells its own story. This wasn’t a coin that was hoarded or lost shortly after being minted; it was handled, traded, and passed through countless hands for decades. It likely stayed in pockets and purses long after Henry’s death, witnessing the religious and political upheaval as monasteries were closed and new doctrines were established. For a common subject of the Tudor era, this penny represented a day’s labor or a meal—a tangible part of the daily struggle during a time of monumental change.
Reflections: The Barnyard’s Secret
Finding this coin so quickly after the cattle were moved makes me wonder what else is resting in that specific patch of ground, shielded for many a season by its protective “guard” of curious cows.
To the original owner in the 16th century, losing this penny might have been a minor tragedy—a bit of silver dropped in the mud near the barn. To me, it is a “keeper” that bridges the gap between the quiet rural life of a Wiltshire village and the grand, turbulent history of the Tudor court. It is a reminder that history doesn’t just happen in palaces; it circulates in the dirt of a barnyard, waiting for the right moment to be found.
I’ll certainly be keeping my eyes on the barn doors for the next time those cows are tucked away.
Find 80: A well traveled Kuna
Last modified on 2025-06-07 08:54:07 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
The Salisbury plains awoke this morning under a sky of shifting greys, promising a day of fitful showers that never quite delivered, leaving the air damp and mild. The distant rolling hills, normally a vibrant and varied green, were instead a more uniform green under a soft, diffused light, giving the landscape a contemplative air.
There’s a particular gate I favour, marking the boundary of a familiar field – a sprawling, ancient pasture to the south of Salisbury that often yields secrets. It’s the same gate, in fact, where my car found rather too much purchase after a recent downpour, leaving my vehicle stubbornly mired in the rich, clinging mud of Wiltshire. Today, though, the ground beneath my feet felt firmer, a blessing I didn’t take for granted. This gate, incidentally, seems to be a magnet for lost treasure; last summer, I pulled a beautiful Georgian florin right out of the hardened mud where cattle and horses have churned the earth for at least two centuries. That find was a true testament to the layers of history beneath our feet.
As I stepped from the car, my eyes had already begun their restless scan of the ground. It’s a habit, a subconscious dance with the earth, and sometimes, just sometimes, the earth chooses to reveal a glint without the need for a shovel. Today was one such day. There, exposed to the sun on the flinty path leading to the gate, a small disc caught the light. No signal, no digging, just a simple, surface find, yet it immediately fired my imagination far more than many a deeper signal.
It was a coin, distinct and foreign. Not bearing the usual Queen’s head or forgotten farthing, but something altogether more exotic: a Croatian Kuna, specifically from 2004, celebrating Croatia’s switch to the Euro. It’s obverse featured a striking commemorative design – a sweet nightingale in profile. Given that the Kuna is no longer legal tender, and the considerable distance between Salisbury and the sun-drenched Adriatic coast, its presence here is truly a captivating mystery. I admit to having to google the text on the coin, as I had no idea what language it was in. The coin says REPUBLIKA HRVATSKA and that led to a great page about the coin on the Numista website.
How did it come to rest by this humble gate, on the edge of a foot path connecting ancient villages? My mind immediately conjured images of an unlucky hiker, perhaps a backpacker tracing the ancient flint trails that criss-cross this region, his pockets jingling with various currencies before a momentary slip saw this memento of a Mediterranean journey fall unseen. Or perhaps it was a local resident, returned from a Croatian holiday, the coin slipping from a hole in the bottom of a rucksack, dislodged and dropped unawares.
This field, you see, sits tantalisingly close to the poignant ancient ruins of Clarendon Palace, a site that has witnessed centuries of royal intrigue and historical events, drawing visitors from far and wide for generations. Indeed, a well-known circular hiking route (a pleasant 4.8-mile walk) connects the ruins of the palace to the charming village of Pitton, where one can find the truly excellent Silver Plough pub – a perfect spot for weary walkers to reflect on their journey and perhaps share a pint.
For me, metal detecting is less about the inherent value of the metal, and more about the profound value of the stories each object holds. This little Kuna, far from home and no longer holding monetary value, resonates with the silent passage of time and the endless human narratives imprinted on the landscape. The thought of it traveling over 800 miles and then lying silently for a day, a year, or a decade or two, a whisper from another country, offers a unique kind of meditative satisfaction. Each find, no matter how small or how surface-level, carries with it an echo of someone else’s journey, waiting to be wondered about, and if possible, retold.
Find 75: William III Shilling
Last modified on 2025-10-25 16:02:19 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
The thrill of the find, the tell-tale signal beneath the soil – every metal detectorist knows it. Recently, less than a mile from the historic grounds of Clarendon Palace outside Salisbury, my efforts yielded a tangible link to England’s past: a silver shilling bearing the portrait of William III, dated 1697. This small disc of metal, once currency, now whispers stories of a turbulent yet transformative era.
William III, or William of Orange, ascended to the English throne in 1689 following the Glorious Revolution, initially ruling jointly with his wife, Mary II. My shilling, however, bears only his stern and badly worn profile, a clear indication that it was minted after Mary’s death in 1694. This seemingly minor detail adds a layer of historical nuance. Coins featuring both monarchs served a crucial political purpose, legitimizing William’s claim through his marriage to the English-born Mary, a direct descendant of the Stuart line. Their joint rule was a strategic move to ease tensions after the deposition of James II and to present an image of unity and stability.
The absence of Mary on this coin from 1697 find marks a distinct period of William’s sole reign. While all coinage from this era holds historical value, those minted after 1694 are tangible artifacts of this specific phase. For numismatists, this distinction is significant, allowing for a more detailed study of the evolution of English coinage under William III. Depending on factors like the mint mark and condition, such shillings can vary in rarity and thus, their value to collectors.
The year 1697 places this coin firmly within a complex political landscape. William III’s reign was defined by the aftermath of the Glorious Revolution, which established the supremacy of Parliament, and the ongoing Nine Years’ War against France. This costly conflict placed a significant strain on the English economy, leading to increased taxation and the establishment of institutions like the Bank of England in 1694 to manage the burgeoning national debt. Furthermore, the threat of Jacobitism – the movement to restore the Stuart line – remained a constant undercurrent of anxiety. While these tensions didn’t erupt into another full-scale civil war like the one in the previous century, they shaped the political discourse and required careful navigation by William’s government.
Finding this shilling near Clarendon Palace adds another intriguing layer to its story. Clarendon Palace, once a favoured royal hunting lodge dating back to Norman times and a significant medieval residence, had declined in prominence by the late 17th century. While direct records of William III visiting the palace are scarce, its historical association with royalty, particularly for hunting in the surrounding Clarendon Forest, makes a royal visit by him or his entourage plausible. Even without a documented visit, the coin’s presence suggests activity in the area during his reign.
This small silver disc, unearthed from the soil near a once-grand royal estate, serves as a tangible connection to a pivotal period in British history. It speaks of political maneuvering, international conflict, and the evolving power dynamics between the monarch and Parliament. For a metal detectorist, it’s more than just a find; it’s a piece of history held in the palm of your hand, prompting a deeper exploration into the lives and times of those who once used it.
Find 7: Laundry Day, 1936
Last modified on 2026-01-22 15:52:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Recently I was given permission to detect in a back garden near West Grimstead. It’s always a great feeling to explore a new patch of ground; you never know what stories might be lying just a few inches under the soil, what forgotten moments have been left behind.
Some finds aren’t about grand historical events; they’re about the quiet, enduring rhythm of daily life. That’s exactly the feeling I got when I unearthed this beautiful shilling right near an old clothesline. To think, people have hung their laundry between those very same two trees for nearly a century. To me, that is a sign of true permanence.
This is a silver shilling of George V, dated 1936—the final year of his reign. It weighs 5.65g and measures 23.5mm in diameter. Unlike many coins found in high-traffic areas, this one has been protected by the garden turf, retaining much of its original detail and a soft, silver-grey patina.
I can just picture the scene: busy with her chores, her mind on a dozen other things, a resident of nearly a century ago reaches up to peg a heavy sheet, and out slips King George, landing silently in the grass. It would have been a noticeable loss back then, almost like leaving a fiver in your wash today. And there he lay for a remarkable 81 years, undisturbed through countless washes, sun-drenched drying days, and changing seasons, just waiting for someone to come along.
This find truly humbles me, making me feel part of a long, unbroken chain of everyday moments. The landowner was as surprised as I was and showed it to his children, who had never seen a coin with a king on it. He heartily encouraged me to check all around that clothesline! After all, if one coin could be left in the wash and hung out to dry, who’s to say it couldn’t happen again? I know it happens to me at least once a week!
Find 13: Girl Guide Pixie Promise badge
Last modified on 2025-10-29 08:10:51 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
A soft, early afternoon light broke through the clouds, dappling the Wiltshire fields in a patchwork of sun and shadow. The air had a crisp chill to it, a promise of the autumn to come, and the hedgerows were already thick with hawthorn berries. This is a field I know well, one I’ve walked many times. I’ve found a dozen or so Girl Guide badges here over the years, a curious artefact that suggests a troop once used these fields for their outdoor activities.
As my detector sang out a strong, clear signal, I felt that familiar surge of anticipation. The ground here is a bit dense, so it took some careful digging, but what emerged was a small, oval bronze badge. A quick brush-up revealed not the familiar trefoil symbol of the Guides, but a dancing pixie-like figure. It’s a simple, unassuming thing, but it immediately felt different from the others I’ve found.
This badge, as I’ve since discovered, is a Girl Guide Promissory Badge—a small token given to girls who were considering joining the movement. It’s an object that symbolises potential and a budding commitment. What’s truly fascinating is its design, which places it firmly in the 1940s. I imagine joining the girl guides, or even the Brownies was a different proposition than it is today. In fact, the other badges I’ve recovered from this very field are largely from the 1970s and 80s, suggesting a continuous, if not regular, use of this particular spot over several decades. It gives me a sense of the generations of girls who have come to this place, on an endless progression of summer days to develop skills, learn teamwork, and explore nature.
It’s these small connections that I find so rewarding. This tiny piece of brass, separated by a generation or two from the others, links us to a moment of decision for a young girl many decades ago. It’s a quiet reminder that every find, no matter how small, tells a story.
Banging good signal though…
Find 4: The Glorious First of June
Last modified on 2025-10-25 12:54:58 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
It was a warm, early summer afternoon, the air still and heavy with the scent of freshly cut hay from a neighbouring field. The sky over the rolling hills of Winterslow was a vast, unbroken dome of blue, and the flinty soil underfoot felt firm and dry. In a nearby paddock were three horses—Buddy, Star, and Daisy. I noticed that Buddy was particularly attuned to the high-pitched beep of my pinpointer, and he watched from the fence line with a curiosity as keen as any of the dog walkers passing through. I was working a seldom visited field, the silence broken only by the players on a distant football pitch and Buddy’s occasional soft snort of interest.
There’s a certain magic to the sound a good signal makes, but equally, a different kind of anticipation when it’s a deep, stubborn noise that suggests something entirely unexpected. On this occasion, a hesitant but persistent signal led me to unearth something humble and remarkably worn: a token.
Unlike coins, which were designed for longevity, this token was a bit more ephemeral—a hapenny payable by grocer and tea merchant John Stride in the coastal town of Emsworth. The token’s lack of formal stature, combined with its long slumber in the earth, had rendered its details nearly illegible. But a quiet evening of gentle cleaning and research revealed its story, and what a story it was.
It commemorates a momentous event in British history: the Glorious First of June of 1794, a naval battle in the Atlantic where Admiral Howe’s fleet dealt a significant blow to the French. It was an iconic moment of national pride, and this small piece of copper—with its image of the Admiral on one side and a defiant Britannia on the reverse—is a physical echo of that time.
It’s a find like this that truly brings the past to life. I found myself thinking not just of the battle, but of the individual who might have carried this token. A sailor returning home from the war? A merchant, perhaps, who traded between various ports and Salisbury? This little disc travelled from a coastal town many miles away to end up, worn and forgotten, in this quiet Wiltshire field. It’s a powerful reminder that history isn’t just made by grand figures and armies, but by the everyday lives of ordinary people, and their journeys.
And so, another important entry is made in our growing collection. While it’s not a Roman denarius or a Saxon brooch, this humble token is a vital find, proving once more that every find tells a story!
The find has yet to be assigned a Unique ID, but it will count towards my goal of 100 finds on the British Museum’s Portable Antiquities Scheme database: finds.org.uk.
Key Details:
* Object Type: Emsworth halfpenny token
* Historical Context: Commemorating Admiral of the Fleet Richard Howe (1726-1799) and the Glorious First of June, 1794.
* Obverse: Bust of Admiral Howe in a tie-wig, uniform and cocked hat. Legend: ‘EARL HOWE & THE GLORIOUS FIRST OF JUNE’.
* Reverse: Britannia seated, with shield, holding an olive branch and spear. Legend: ‘RULE BRITANNIA’. Exergue: ‘1795’.
* Edge Inscription: ‘EMSWORTH HALFPENNY PAYABLE BY IOHN STRIDE’.
Find 5: First Hole Silver!
Last modified on 2025-08-13 11:09:01 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
After what felt like weeks of being stuck indoors, it was a pure delight to get out into the fields again. The first signal I dug up was a crisp, clear tone, and when I saw it, I had to smile: a beautiful George VI sixpence. First Hole Silver! F.H.S.!
A little while later, the detector gave me another fantastic signal. My heart was hoping, but my brain was telling me, “Don’t get your hopes up.” What came out of the ground was a ‘florin’—a two-shilling piece from an era not so long ago. It’s not a truly ancient coin, and it’s not solid silver, but oh, was it shiny and clean! And, most importantly, it was not a pull tab! The little victories like that are what keep me going.
I know there are detectorists who find more, but two silver coins in a single weekend is a rarity for me, and it made my return to the fields feel truly special. It was a perfect reminder that the stories and treasures are always waiting, just beneath the surface
Find 6: The Highs and Lows of Metal Detecting
Last modified on 2025-10-29 08:13:12 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
June 11th. The day broke bright and clear, the sun already warming the chalk downs near Salisbury. The fields were a vibrant, high summer green, and the air was thick with the scent of hay and wildflowers. It was a perfect, long day for being out, and I felt that familiar, quiet hope that every day in the field brings.
My thoughts were immediately drawn back to yesterday. The memory of that deep, promising tone is one I won’t soon forget, nor the momentary, racing excitement as the sun glinted off something brilliant in the dark soil. To see that flash of gold, to have the heart hammer in the chest, only for it to resolve into a perfectly crushed whisky bottle cap… well, it’s a detectorist’s lament, isn’t it? That magnificent, heartbreaking frustration. Aside from a lone thimble, that shiny piece of modern detritus was the only thing of note. It was a reminder that history is layered, and often, the most recent layers ring out the loudest.
But what a difference a day makes!
Almost exactly twenty-four hours later, the ground decided to offer a profound gift. I was working a section of field where a footpath once led from Alderbury to Laverstock, and my detector again sang out with a solid, bell-like tone. As I knelt and gently excavated, what emerged left me absolutely gobsmacked—a tiny, worn disc of metal, dark with the patina of millennia.
This small object was a genuine Iron Age Stater, a coin of the Durotrigian tribe who controlled a large area including the Isle of Wight. The museum would share loads of interesting details about it: That dated specifically to the period between 58 BC and AD 43. It’s the ‘Hod Hill type’, which is instantly recognisable to those who study this period. The obverse shows the highly stylized wreath, cloak, and crescents, while the reverse features a dramatically disjointed horse facing left. What truly deepens the story is that the coin was originally silver-plated copper alloy, and may even be a contemporary copy. Which might explain my finding it so far inland.This wasn’t solid gold or silver, but a base metal given a gleaming surface—a commentary on the technology and economics of the time, where trust in the currency was perhaps as important as its intrinsic value.
(Rights Holder: The Portable Antiquities Scheme. Used with permission under Creative Commons.)
Imagine that! Some person, over two thousand years ago, walked this landscape carrying this coin. It’s a direct, tangible link to a life before the legions of Rome arrived, a small piece of the Durotriges’ world right in my hand. It reminds me that even when the disappointment of a shiny bottle cap hits, the patient detectorist will eventually find that the the ground, it seems, always has another, much older story to tell. Every find tells a story.
Key Details:
Unique ID: WILT-309287
Object Type: Iron Age Durotrigian Stater (Hod Hill Type)
Historical Context: A silver-plated copper alloy coin dating from c. 58 BC – AD 43. It was produced by the Durotriges tribe and features a highly stylized depiction of a head (obverse) and a disjointed horse (reverse). It may be a contemporary copy, offering a fascinating insight into the economy of pre-Roman Britain.
Weight/Diameter: 2.4 g / 17.9 mm
April: Catching up on Finds
Last modified on 2025-10-29 08:16:25 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
From Upper Left:
Victoria Ha-penny, George V Penny (1929), George V Farthing (1922), Elizabeth II Sixpence(1954), George V Ha-penny (1935), Trapezoidal buckle (17thc), Copper Alloy buckle, Various plain buttons (1750s-1800s), old old musket ball (16th c.)
Find 19: A Florin’s a Florin!
Last modified on 2026-01-24 17:26:02 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
There is a specific weight to a florin that sets it apart from other coinage. Finding a British two-shilling coin—the florin—always feels like a significant discovery, partly because of its size and partly because of its long, steadfast history in British pockets. This particular example, a 1965 Elizabeth II florin, was won from the Wiltshire mud through a bit of stubbornness and a change of footwear.
I found this coin while trying to negotiate an old wooden gateway into my West Grimstead permission without stepping into ankle-deep mud. In the middle of that delicate balancing act, I leaned my detector against the wooden gate to steady myself, and the machine let out a sharp, unmistakable “Zeep!” about three feet shy of the gate and dry land.
At that moment, I was wearing old trainers that were already losing the battle against the muck. I had to hobble back to my car, swap them for a pair of calf-height wellies, and trudge back to the spot. Now more confident in my footing, I quickly relocated the signal. Common sense told me it would be a piece of gate hardware—a bolt or a hinge fragment—or at best a discarded pull-tab. Still, I couldn’t walk away from it after going to all the trouble of changing my shoes, especially since the hunt hadn’t been going particularly well that day.
What emerged from the sludge was not scrap, but a 1965 florin. Issued from 1849 until 1967, the florin was originally introduced as a step toward decimalisation, worth exactly one-tenth of a pound. By 1965, these coins were made of cupro-nickel (75% copper, 25% nickel), as the silver content had been removed from British coinage in 1947 to help pay off war debts [1].
I have to admit, I’m slightly disappointed that it doesn’t actually say “Florin” on it, and a bit more disappointed that it’s not one of the silver ones, but a Florin’s a Florin!
The obverse features the laureate head of Queen Elizabeth II by Mary Gillick, inscribed ELIZABETH II DEI GRATIA REGINA. The reverse is a mid-century masterpiece of heraldry, showing a crown at the centre of a ring of four heraldic plants: the Tudor rose, the thistle, the shamrock, and the leek, representing the four nations of the United Kingdom.
In 1968, as Britain prepared for decimalisation, the florin was superseded by the ten pence piece. Because they shared the same value, size, and weight, they co-existed in British change for decades. This 1965 survivor likely circulated alongside the new decimal coins for another quarter of a century. It wasn’t until 1993, when the 10p was reduced in size, that these old florins finally lost their status as legal tender.
Holding this coin, I’m struck by how much history it bridged. It fell into the soil at a literal and metaphorical gateway—lost at the edge of a field and at the edge of Britain’s pre-decimal history. I can only imagine the person who lost it; they likely weren’t as successful as I was in skirting the mud and probably fell right in. They would have been far more concerned with being covered in muck than grubbing around in deep sludge for a dropped coin. It’s a reminder that sometimes the signals we almost ignore, especially when we’re cold and muddy, turn out to be the ones worth the extra effort.
Sources: [1] The Royal Mint, “History of the Florin,” royalmint.com.
Roman at last!
Last modified on 2019-02-24 21:20:39 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
I’m very chuffed to find my first clearly Roman coin today!. I think I’ve had others but they were so badly worn that I don’t think it really counts.
- Roman coin: antoninianus, or radiate depicting Diocletian, 284 to 305 AD
- A button that says “
Greshman Club” on it. The Gresham Club was a gentlemen’s club in the City of London founded in 1843. It was named after Thomas Gresham and its last site was located on Abchurch Lane off King William Street. - George V Half Penny 1918
- George III Penny 1701
- Lead cow’s head.
- Emerald green bottle, Icilma Vanishing cream, 1921-1953
- Nifty looking key or something.
- Not shown: Couple of musket balls.
-
Emperor Diocletian -
Worth 2 Denari -
Nice key or… -
-
Gresham Club, 1845 -
Not sure what was in this -
half penny, 1918 -
George V -
1701 penny -
George III -
Lead cow’s head
Frosty Finds
Last modified on 2019-02-03 17:51:34 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
I saw lots of people posting finds this weekend despite all the snow so when the temp climbed from -6c this morning to my minimal acceptable lower limit I dashed out for a quick 90 minutes in my favorite field. It was wet but I wasn’t actually cold between my layered coats, ski pants, and wellies. I found the almost obligatory coin, a nice stock buckle that still has a functioning clip and two buttons. Found an old piece of lead too, but haven’t cleaned it up yet. More on that later. If I hadn’t made it out today I was looking at 3 straight weeks without any detecting and it was kinda getting to me. 🙂
-
Young Victoria Hapenny 1861 -
reverse half penny -
Conical button 1785-1800 -
reverse of conical button -
button: 1760-1785 -
not so much detail -
Men’s Stock pin. possibly 1750-1850 -
The pins still pivots!
A different sort of finger ring
Last modified on 2019-01-25 22:09:07 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
I scrabbled a lot in the gravel of a dry riverbed today. Not many finds worth commenting on, but this one is a bit remarkable. It looks like a ring but it’s not, it’s a finger ring from a candle holder. I found one a few years ago and it took ages to figure it out because it’s just a small part of the whole artifact. And curiously, it’s broken in the exact same way as the other one. This is today’s find:
And this is the one I found about 5 miles away:
This is what it looked like when still attached to the candle holder.
One guy on Facebook referred to it as a ‘partifact’ or ‘partial artifact. A word that bears repeating.
Promising Finds
Last modified on 2019-01-16 11:35:27 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
-
Victorian Dress Weight -
Small Watch Face, gold plated silver -
Edward Vii Ha-penny, 1904 -
Late Victoria Ha-Penny, 1896 -
George Vi Half Crown, 1948
I’m amazed and proud to say I’ve been given a new permission. It has some interesting history around it and I’m really looking forward to seeing what it produces. I found the following items on my first visit. If it has this to offer after just two hours, there should be some amazing things waiting to be discovered.
Not a Penny by Half
Last modified on 2018-12-11 15:41:15 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
I was out detecting today for a quick hour or two and found what I thought was a George V penny but when I got it home and cleaned some of the muck off it I found it was slightly older than that and not a penny at all. I had a bit of fun researching this and found that it is actually a halfpenny token issued by the British Copper Company. Which had smelting works at Landore, Wales, and rolling mills at Walthamstow, Essex.
Apparently, copper pennies and halfpennies were in short supply after the war with Napoleon of France — and the war against America in 1812 — and earlier coins had largely been melted down for their value as a metal. Nothing was done in parliament to alleviate the situation but c
Sword Hanger
Last modified on 2018-02-14 17:53:00 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
I remember reading about sword hangers in John Carter of Mars. I had no idea what they were until now.
There is a record of similar on the British Museum’s finds website:
https://finds.org.uk/database/artefacts/record/id/727202
Reported to the finds liaison officer (FLO) in Salisbury.
A complete set would have looked like this:
RAC button
Last modified on 2018-01-31 18:16:50 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Royal Armoured Corp, 1939-current.
Fits in with the other military items I found on the beach. Here’s what it looks like all shiny and fresh:
Farthing-1927
Last modified on 2019-01-25 22:14:06 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
I like to say that the farthing is the 5p coin of its day. Which is about what this one’s worth. Still, always a thrill to find coins that I’ve only ever read about.
Here’s a page with more details on it:
https://www.allcoinvalues.com/united-kingdom/1927-uk-farthing-value2c-george-v.html
Dart
Last modified on 2018-01-25 11:53:47 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
This is a manly dart! This dart means to do bodily harm. I remember darts like this as a child. I’m sure I have scars related to these things! Not as big as a Jart but just as dangerous in the hands of an amateur. I found this a dozen yards from the nearest backyard. Whoever threw this needed substantial upper body strength to heft it that far.
Racing Pigeon Ankle Ring
Last modified on 2018-01-25 11:56:05 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Found a pigeon ring. No pigeon though…
two halfs don’t make a hoard
Last modified on 2017-12-11 09:47:53 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Today I braved the cold for an hour or so and found two Half Pennies within 50 feet of each other. One is a George the Fifth from 1931 and the other his son, George the Sixth, circa 1944. Here’s how they’ve faired over 70-80 years in the soil:
And here’s how they looked newly circulated:
They could have been dropped by the same person, but we’ll never know… Still interesting to find two different ha’pennies on the same visit that are also two different kings, and both a ‘George.’
The reverse of George VI’s coin has the Golden Hind on it:
Winterslow button
Last modified on 2017-12-02 20:04:36 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
I’m told it’s off a military uniform.
Chem bodies
Last modified on 2017-12-02 19:59:59 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
looked better covered in dirt!
Small heart
Last modified on 2017-11-28 12:53:19 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
I found this tiny (1/2 inch) heart charm on the beach. It might have had a stone at one time, might have been gold plated.
Silver button
Last modified on 2017-11-28 12:46:50 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Not a shiny shilling but a shiny silver button. Haven’t found much on this design online but the style of loop on the back makes it circa 1760-1785.
Bag seal
Last modified on 2017-11-28 12:36:01 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Probably just a lead seal from a wine bottle, but I found it interesting because there’s a ship or galley on one side and the letters VEC on the other.
Medieval saddle Badge
Last modified on 2017-10-25 13:12:29 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Roman Adjacent
Last modified on 2017-09-03 11:34:48 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
I think you can tell by the quality of my finds today that I’m obviously somewhere ‘Roman Adjacent.’ The accolades should start rolling in any minute now…
Horseshoes
Last modified on 2017-09-03 17:00:37 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Roman roads as network map
Last modified on 2017-07-28 07:17:34 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Winder
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:39 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Best advice so far
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:39 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Dito
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:39 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
I’m calling this D.I.T.O:
Detectorist In, Trash Out.
The only thing of interest is the iron at the top of the pic, it’s a shoe for an ox. I didn’t know that useta be a thing. Also more small bits of the paraffin lamp I found last summer.
A hint of silver
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:39 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
I think I found me a shiny silver button! There is faint text on it but I’m not sure how to pull up enough contrast to read it. I think I see an S, a space, and then an E at the ‘9 o’clock’ position of this shot. I also found what looks like the end of a small spade or shovel, some more random bits of a parafin lamp and a pull tab.
Sunday Dig
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
The rain made for a short day and I have no Roman hoards to report (yet!) But I did find an interesting bit of Horse Brass:I did a brief search online and found it listed as “Winged Crescent Moon with Centre Eye” The fine print says its Victorian, 1850-1899I also spent a long time digging up an old stirrup and some nails and staples which I will photograph and then recycle.
A last-minute quick dig
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Today’s Finds: Jan 23rd, 2017
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Found a bit of lead shot (Possibly a musket ball!), a dog tag and a copper ring. Also found more beer cans, an oil filter from a tractor and random bits of iron. The lead shot could be a musket ball which makes me hope that more things from that period await me. Was hoping for interesting finds but oh well, maybe next time.
Today’s finds: Jan 6th, 2017
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Not the hot bed of lost coins I thought it would be but I did find a nifty 1907 penny which makes a weird kind of sense because the village post office was near the end of the footpath and you only needed a penny to mail something back then. This is the second penny I found in this general area. Third if you count the french 20p coin from the other side of the fence. I have a theory about that but I need to do some comparisons before I share it.
Not shown: Three flattened beer cans, an iron stake and a camera battery.
Queen Manor Road Dig
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
One of my query letters actually bore fruit and I was given the opportunity to do some exploring of a garden along Queen’s Road here in Salisbury.
I spent about two hours there and while a Roman hoard still eludes me I find it a very interesting dig. The garden had a lot of iron signals, especially in the lower third of the yard. Based on the number of nails, the door hinge and other bits of rust I dug up I’m thinking there was a building there at one time or perhaps some building materials were stacked there during the construction of the current cottages. The owners told me about the nearby mill and I think they said the bricks from earlier cottages were re-used in the current ones. I love hearing about local history like this, and I look forward to having another go sometime.
Thank you Vanessa and Piers!
I did find a coin just as I was wrapping up: a 1971 2-pence piece.
Two coins in the Paddock
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
I’m very chuffed to say I finally FINALLY found a coin!
Two actually, though one is so badly corroded it defies identification. Both were in the bit of back garden that my father-in-law lets me dig around in. And here’s the kicker: The coin isn’t English, its French!
Check this out:
A silver coin still eludes me; this one’s bronze but its in pretty good shape. Here’s a link to some info about it:
https://en.numista.com/catalogue/pieces698.html
The other one is very corroded and I can’t tell you what it is. The Mrs thinks she can make out “HALF PENNY” on it but I can’t see it. Maybe the F, not sure. If it’s a ‘pre-decimal’ Halfpenny that narrows it down to sometime in the past 600 years 😉 I could probably tighten that up based on the size and material but I’m gonna try to clean off some of the build up. Can’t really see how it’d hurt but “a coin’s a coin” eh? I’m a detectorist me.
(WordPress is still cropping my images, I’ll have to research how to turn that off!)
More cow bell!
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Had a few minutes to check out the previous dig in West Grimstead and about 3 feet away from where I found the broken bell last time I found another piece of it! No other finds to report except another bit of copper hose and some foil that somehow got buried 6 inches down. The pics look much darker here than in reality. I might re-shoot.
Quick dig in West Grimstead
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Had some time in the In-Law’s back garden and wanted to try going back to two spots where I found things before.
I walked up to the spot, passed my detector over the ground and immediately got a strong non ferrous signal. It took only about two minutes to dig it up. Still haven’t found a coin but I found what looks like a Dinner bell. It doesn’t seem to be silver and shows up as a 52 on my detector which is somewhere between nickel and zinc for what that’s worth. About 3″ diameter. Pewter Maybe? No easy or cheap ways to find out for sure. Still has some of its bell-like quality despite being less than half the original bell.
Near it was a small knob looking bit that I thought might be the ‘top’ of the hand bell but its not of the same metal, is magnetic and appears to have more than one layer. Was probably plated at one point.
After those two finds I went back to where I found the lamp mantle and near that I found two pieces of it though very small.
Its starting to look like someone’s setting the table out in the garden, maybe they left some silver spoons for me to dig up! Not pictured is a 8 inch piece of copper tubing.
Path
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Better view of my wanderings around Fovant.
Fovant SP3 5LQ
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
The most exciting part was testing out my wellies in all the mud and avoiding cow patties. I saw about 15 people there during the three hours I was on site. My wife drove off with my shoes so I had nothing to change into when the taxi guy came to give me a lift home. He was really put out about it. I hated to do it to him but it was just too far to walk. My finds are : two bits of foil, a gun shell of some kind and a Roman Thermocouple. (Just kidding about the Roman bit.)
This is a hard hobby to love.
The spike out to the left is where I missed the entrance and had to walk back.
Quick test of my gear
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
I got to go back to the paddock in West Grimstead and try out all the gear and clothes I will be taking to Fovant on Wednesday. I was warm enough I think barring gale force winds and rain (touch wood!)
The grass was wet and I got a lot of phantom signals but the main test was for my bluetooth headphones and transmitter. Those worked fine once I convinced them to pair but I only got about 90 minutes of air time before the headphones died. I switched to a regular set of earphones for the rest of the time. I did manage to find one interesting thing: A mantle from a lamp squashed flat over time and lying on its side about 5 inches down. It still has its knob attached and that I THINK says “Youngs Brilliant Burn” on it. Can’t find a company with that name on it with a quick google search but it could be my search terms. I think here in the UK they’re called Paraffin lamps instead of Hurricane lamps. I’ll keep plugging away. Renewed my hope to find something of value in Fovant.
I posted this photo on the Southern Detectorists Facebook page and one of the members identified the lamp this came from here.
Circa 1900. That’s over 116 years old at best though how long it spent in the ground is anyone’s guess.
Okeford Fitzpaine
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Return of the F44
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
I want to say a few words about my experience with Joan Allen, the company where my wife bought my Fisher F44.
I mentioned in another post that my detector had gone slightly mad; its actual behavior was that it would not shut off, you could not change the mode it was in and it seemed to be set to the highest sensitivity and the highest volume. The only way to turn it off was remove the batteries.
I had some theories about why this is happening but it was unusable in that condition so I returned it. I went to their website found the support contact email, sent them my information and the serial number which was tricky to find because it is displayed when you first turn the device off but you have only a second or two to record what’s basically a 10 digit number displayed two digits at a time. But that’s Fisher’s doing, not Joan Allen.
I got an email back within a day telling me to ship it in and they even offered a pickup service. I shipped it in on my dime and about a week went by before I called them and they’re technician was not in to take my question. Another week went by and found out it was the next one to be repaired. Their man Billy seems very busy. He sent me an email that it was being shipped back to me without any comment on what was wrong with it but as it turned out they replaced the whole unit. I was without it for about three weeks total and in the end got a brand new unit no questions asked. While they might have done better communicating with me the results were fine I suppose. This is a good spot for one of those at the end of the day phrases: The whole interaction was exactly what I expected from an in-warranty repair.
Today’s finds from a certain backyard in Southampton. Somewhere near the old location of Chessel House.
The National Council for Metal Detecting Code of Conduct
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
- Do not trespass. Obtain permission before venturing on to any land.
- Respect the Country Code, leave gates and property as you find them and do not damage crops, frighten animals or disturb nesting birds.
- Wherever the site, do not leave a mess or an unsafe surface for those who may follow. It is perfectly simple to extract a coin or other small object buried a few inches below the ground without digging a great hole. Use a suitable digging implement to cut a neat flap (do not remove the plug of earth entirely from the ground), extract the object, reinstate the grass, sand or soil carefully, and even you will have difficulty in locating the find spot again.
- If you discover any live ammunition or any lethal object such as an unexploded bomb or mine, do not disturb it. Mark the site carefully and report the find to the local police and landowner.
- Help keep Britain tidy. Safely dispose of refuse you come across.
- Report all unusual historical finds to the landowner, and acquaint yourself with current NCMD policy relating to the Voluntary Reporting of Portable Antiquities in England and Wales and the mandatory reporting requirements in Scotland. See:
http://www.treasuretrovescotland.co.uk/index.asp
- Remember it is illegal for anyone to use a metal detector on a designated area (e.g. Scheduled Monuments (SM), Sites of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI), or Ministry of Defence property) without permission from the appropriate authority. It is also a condition of most agri-environment agreements that metal detecting access is subject to certain rules and regulations including mandatory finds recording. Details of these agreements and the access conditions they impose are detailed on the NCMD website.
- Acquaint yourself with the terms and definitions used in the following documents: –
- Treasure contained in the Treasure Act 1996 and its associated Code of Practice, making sure you understand your responsibilities.
- Advice for Finders of Archaeological Objects including Treasure 2006.
- The voluntary Code of Practise for Responsible Metal Detecting to which the NCMD is an endorsee.
- Advice for finders in Scotland: see http://www.treasuretrovescotland.co.uk/html/finders.asp
- Remember that when you are out with your metal detector you are an ambassador for our hobby. Do nothing that might give it a bad name.
- Never miss an opportunity to explain your hobby to anyone who asks about it.
Day 2 finds
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
More fun in a West Grimstead garden. Still nothing of value but I’m getting better at digging holes actually near the find. And I have a White’s pin-pointer without which several of these finds would have remained in the dirt pile. Now if I can keep from detecting the keys in my pocket I’ll be ready for the wilds of Wiltshire. Yes I know this is all of zero value but its good practice. Now I want something that’s not iron to come up!
Day One with the F44
Last modified on 2017-05-31 09:30:40 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Tried some detecting in my Father In Law’s paddock today. Three digs but nothing of value. I did find a few odd things I that kept anyway. I need to get better at figuring out where within the sensor range the target actually is. Seems like when I find the item its more to the left that what I think ‘center’ actually is. Plus I’m making mole holes when I should be making plugs.
These were found in his front yard near two yew trees. One looks like a bit of spoon but probably isn’t. The other is a bit of metal with two holes in it. Reminds of a part to an old-fashioned thermostat or part of a distributor cap perhaps? Its non ferrous and has a thin metal ‘tongue’ welded to it. I’m thinking brass but no way to tell at this point. Both were about 5″ down.
Also find a nail. Not shown because I’m ashamed I spent 20 minutes digging it up.
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