{"id":13481,"date":"2025-09-08T15:22:30","date_gmt":"2025-09-08T15:22:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/vrharbor.com\/?p=13481"},"modified":"2026-02-23T15:04:56","modified_gmt":"2026-02-23T15:04:56","slug":"find-no-14-thimbles-of-the-grimstead-oak","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/vrharbor.com\/?p=13481","title":{"rendered":"Find 14: Thimbles of the Grimstead Oak"},"content":{"rendered":"

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8th September 2025. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\u2019t until they were moved on that I finally secured permission to detect a field I had long suspected held secrets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\u2019ve 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.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\u2014a 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.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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.
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Object Type: Post-Medieval Copper Alloy Thimble<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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