A Rookie Archaeologist Was on One of His First Digs—and Found a 1,000-Year-Old Coin Hoard
"Hearst Magazines and Yahoo may earn commission or revenue on some items through these links."
Archeologists found over 300 silver coins dating back to the 11th century.
The hoard has been nicknamed 'The Pasty' because the cloth and lead that were carefully wrapped around the coins resemble a Cornish pasty.
Experts believe the owner of the stash buried their wealth for safekeeping after Edward the Confessor's coronation.
Construction projects can lead to incredible archaeological discoveries, and the excavation site Sizewell C has proved to be quite fruitful. Located on the coast of Suffolk, England, the area is a developing nuclear power site. Sizewell C's archaeology partner, Oxford Cotswold Archaeology (OCA), is working hard to preserve the history of the area. Previously, the team unearthed treasures that included World War II artifacts and an Iron Age axel.
And the site just keeps on giving. Just this past January, archaeologists found a hoard of 11th-century coins in near-perfect condition. The 321 silver coins were carefully wrapped in cloth and lead in a way that resembled a Cornish pasty—which, consequently, earned the find its nickname.
'The Pasty, as it was immediately and affectionately named for obvious reasons, was a true privilege to find,' Andrew Pegg, OCA archaeologist and discoverer of the coins, said in a statement.
Experts believe that the hoard was once a savings pot of a local figure. Though the hoard had many coins—including some rare ones—from across the region, the owner was likely of middling status. At the time, the entire stash would have been approximately equal in value to a small herd of cattle, according to researchers.
The coins in the bundle were minted between 1036 and 1044, dating back to the reigns of Harold I, Harthacnut, and Edward the Confessor. This particular time was one of uncertainty—wealthier individuals closely associated with the previous ruler were often exiled, or (after Edward the Confessor's coronation) had their belongings confiscated.
The owner likely buried their stash for safekeeping, but failed to return to retrieve it. Researchers suggest that the owner may have died before digging up the hoard, or was simply unable to locate it again (on second thought, maybe the ground isn't the safest piggy bank).
Perhaps even better than 'The Pasty' hoard itself is the story behind its discovery. Pegg discovered the hoard only 9 months into his career—the excavations at Sizewell C were the first archaeological project he had ever worked on. Even better, Pegg grew up in Leiston, Suffolk, so the find was practically in his backyard.
'I was shaking when I first unearthed it, seeing a single coin edge peeking at me,' Pegg said. 'A perfect archaeological time capsule. The information we are learning from it is stunning and I'm so proud to have added to the history of my own little part of Suffolk.'
Needless to say, the discovery at Sizewell C sheds light on the anxieties of the time, and the hoard will serve as a valuable piece of history for the public to learn from.
'This project provides a rare and fascinating glimpse into Suffolk's rich history, deepening our understanding of this part of Britain,' Damian Leydon, Site Delivery Director at Sizewell C said. 'In partnership with Oxford Cotswold Archaeology, we plan to make these discoveries as accessible to the public as possible.'
You Might Also Like
The Do's and Don'ts of Using Painter's Tape
The Best Portable BBQ Grills for Cooking Anywhere
Can a Smart Watch Prolong Your Life?
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
4 hours ago
- Yahoo
Sonnen's Pet Shop, among city's oldest stores, closes after over 130 years downtown
After more than 130 years in downtown St. Paul and 91 under the ownership of the Sonnen family, Sonnen's Pet Shop, one of the city's oldest retail stores, has quietly closed. Second-generation owner David Sonnen, 81, has retired, and the last day for the store — a tiny alcove in the historic Hamm Building that sold birds, fish and other animal accessories — was in May. Up until its final days, the store famously looked nearly identical to how it had in decades past. But the city around it had changed, David Sonnen said, and downtowns in St. Paul and elsewhere simply no longer serve the same purpose they once did, as a city's main retail hub. 'When I think back 20 or 30 years ago, it was just constant people, all day long, walking back and forth,' he said. 'They came down to go shopping. Everything was down here. But then, of course, the (suburban shopping centers) came and people started going to those, and the online stuff now. Times have changed.' The business first began in the 1890s as an animal and seed store near what's now the corner of Cedar Street and Kellogg Boulevard, and moved several times. In 1934, amid the Great Depression, the then-owner's widow told young employee Louis Sonnen he could either buy the store or be out of a job. He took up her offer, renamed the store, stopped selling the cats and dogs he found smelly and, during World War II, moved the store to its longtime Hamm Building location. David Sonnen officially took over operations in the 1970s but his father, who died in 2001, remained active in the business. 'I liked being downtown, I liked the atmosphere and I liked taking care of the birds and the fish,' David Sonnen said. 'If things were better (downtown), I'd stay, because it was fun, and I grew up with it. But it just got to a point where it wasn't worth it anymore.' As for why David Sonnen decided to close the store rather than finding a new owner, all his kids pursued different career paths, and he felt it 'wouldn't be fair for somebody to buy the place when it isn't in a location that's any good anymore and you can't make a living at it,' he said. During its heyday, though, the store attracted not only everyday shoppers but the occasional celebrity, too. Jack Lemmon would stop in to buy dog food while shooting 'Grumpy Old Men' in the 1990s, David Sonnen said. As for David Sonnen himself, he now has more time to take care of projects around the house, he said. He doesn't currently have any pets at home, though, he said with a laugh. Expect traffic headaches Saturday with protest, sports, music, I-94 closure Twin Cities transit: The B Line replaces the Route 21 on Saturday MN Legislature: Xcel Energy Center shut out of bond funding for renovations World's largest woodturning expo comes to RiverCentre this weekend St. Paul Downtown Development Corp. seeks to acquire Alliance Bank Center
Yahoo
9 hours ago
- Yahoo
Inside the Life of Stockton Rush, the Titan Sub CEO
"Hearst Magazines and Yahoo may earn commission or revenue on some items through these links." Stockton Rush, the founder and CEO of OceanGate who died aboard the Titan submersible along with four others when it imploded in the North Atlantic Ocean in June 2023, was shaped by legacy, ambition, and controversy. A descendant of Founding Fathers and married into a family tied to the Titanic, he founded OceanGate to open access to deep sea tourism. But as Netflix's new documentary, Titan: The OceanGate Disaster, reveals, his resistance to oversight and confidence in his own vision helped set the stage for a fatal outcome. Here's a closer look at Rush's background, from his elite upbringing and engineering career to the decisions that led to the Titan's final dive. Rush was descended from two signers of the Declaration of Independence—Richard Stockton and Benjamin Rush—on his father's side, for whom he was named. Wendy Rush, Stockton Rush's wife, is the great-great-granddaughter of Ida and Isidor Straus, first-class passengers who died in the Titanic sinking in 1912. Wendy, born Wendy Hollings Weil, descended from the couple known for their refusal to be separated as the ship went down. The Strauses were later memorialized in James Cameron's 1997 film Titanic, and a cenotaph in the Bronx bears a biblical inscription honoring their story. Rush was born on March 31, 1962 in San Francisco. Rush's father chaired Peregrine Oil and Gas in Burlingame, California, a suburb south of the city, and the Natoma Company, which managed real estate investments in the Sacramento area. His grandfather led American President Lines, a major shipping firm, and his grandmother was the namesake of Louise M. Davies Symphony Hall in San Francisco's Civic Center. The family's fortune originated with Ralph K. Davies, who rose from office boy to director at Standard Oil of California. Rush's father also served as president-elect of the Bohemian Club, an exclusive, all-male organization based in San Francisco known for its annual retreat at Bohemian Grove, a 2,700-acre campground about 80 miles north of the Golden Gate Bridge. The secret society's member rolls are notoriously private, but this was lightly referenced in Discovery's Implosion: The Titanic Sub Disaster documentary and also confirmed in Princeton alumni records. After college, Rush returned to the Bay Area, where he received an MBA from the Haas School of Business at the University of California, Berkeley, in 1989. Rush earned a bachelor's degree in mechanical and aerospace engineering from Princeton in 1984. His father, grandfather, and wife also attended. Their son graduated as recently as 2011. Per the Princeton Alumni Weekly, his namesake, Richard Stockton—Class of 1748 and signer of the Declaration—was one of the school's earliest graduates, and Richard's father donated land to the university. As a student, Rush trained as a pilot and kept a private plane at the Princeton airport. He took off semesters to fly DC-8s in Saudi Arabia during the hajj pilgrimage. According to the Daily Princetonian in 2023, he was arrested during his time in college, including for drunk driving and for possession of a controlled substance. Rush originally dreamed of becoming an astronaut, but that dream was cut short when he couldn't pass the right vision tests. So he switched to engineering, with the goal of being a passenger, and began his career as a flight test engineer at McDonnell Douglas in Seattle. 'I had this epiphany that this was not at all what I wanted to do,' Rush told Smithsonian Magazine in 2019. 'I didn't want to go up into space as a tourist. I wanted to be Captain Kirk on the Enterprise. I wanted to explore.' In the Netflix documentary, it's made clear that Rush wants to be mentioned in the same conversations as the likes of Jeff Bezos with Blue Origin and Elon Musk and SpaceX, so he made deep sea exploration his frontier. He founded OceanGate in 2009. While he held an aerospace engineering degree, he was not a licensed professional engineer—an omission some experts later questioned given his involvement in designing and piloting submersibles. You Might Also Like 12 Weekend Getaway Spas For Every Type of Occasion 13 Beauty Tools to Up Your At-Home Facial Game
Yahoo
11 hours ago
- Yahoo
Tech execs enlist in Army Reserve for new innovation detachment
Four Silicon Valley technology executives from major companies are joining the U.S Army Reserve as officers to inject the speed and expertise of commercial technology development into military innovation through the newly established Detachment 201, an Executive Innovation Corps, the service announced Friday. The Pentagon has long turned to civilian experts for technological insight, from World War II-era scientists to modern advisory boards like the Defense Innovation Board. Detachment 201 takes the desire to collaborate with the high-technology industry to a new level: embedding senior tech execs directly into the Army Reserve as uniformed officers. Those first Army Reserve lieutenant colonels, who will be sworn in today are Shyam Sankar, Palantir's chief technology officer; Andrew Bosworth, chief technology officer of Meta; Kevin Weil, OpenAI's chief product officer; and Bob McGrew, an advisor at Thinking Machines Lab and former chief research officer for OpenAI, the Army statement lists. 'Their swearing-in is just the start of a bigger mission to inspire more tech pros to serve without leaving their careers, showing the next generation how to make a difference in uniform,' the statement reads. In their roles in Det. 201, 'they will work on targeted projects to help guide rapid and scalable tech solutions to complex problems,' the Army said. 'By bringing private-sector know-how into uniform, Det. 201 is supercharging efforts like the Army Transformation Initiative, which aims to make the force leaner, smarter and more lethal.' Army Secretary Dan Driscoll unveiled the initiative last month in a memo to the force laying out major changes to the command structure, formation make-up, canceling programs deemed out of the scope of the Army's desired modernization pathway, and accelerating programs the service wants in order to become a more lethal and agile force. The executives come from companies who have been entrenching themselves in military technology development. After a rough start, Palantir has been a cornerstone of Army modernization for years, providing everything from an intelligence analytics system called the Distributed Common Ground System-Army to its Vantage data platform, which is under a contract and supports 100,000 users, to its Titan system that gives the service deep-sensing and sensor-fusion capabilities. Palantir, along with a variety of other major companies like Google and Anduril, is also working with the Army as it develops a new command-and-control architecture from the ground up. OpenAI and Meta have also pivoted to embrace military applications. OpenAI has partnered with Anduril on artificial-intelligence-enhanced air-defense systems, for example. Meta has also begun partnering with other companies like Anduril to work on AI tools for the military. Thinking Machines Lab, which employs a large number of former OpenAI developers including its co-founder, was established earlier this year. Its foundational focus is human-AI collaboration, a key necessity for the Army as it works on how to best integrate humans with machines on the battlefield in a meaningful way.
