Roman Hoard Found in England’s West Country

Copyright https://cotswoldarchaeology.co.uk/

The Hensgrove Hoard

Perhaps the most renowned site amidst the verdant lands of England's southwest, forever entwined with the legacy of the Roman Empire, is Bath – a quaint town blessed with the gift of natural hot springs. Long before the mighty legions of Rome swept across Britannia, it was the Iron Age tribe of the Dobunni who inhabited the land. These folk held the springs as sacred, a shrine to the goddess Sulis, whose touch was said to possess wondrous powers of healing.

Then came the Roman conquest in 43AD. Ever the builders, they swiftly erected a temple and a splendid spa complex around these steaming waters by 75AD.  Thus was born Aquae Sulis, 'the waters of Sulis,' a bustling heart of bathing and social revelry. Yet, as the 5th century dawned, the Roman grasp on Britannia waned. Within a hundred years, the once grand Roman Baths fell into obscurity, swallowed by the restless Avon River as its muddy banks overflowed. Buildings crumbled, yet the mud, in an act of ironic preservation, cradled the foundations.

Centuries turned. In 1727, the temple's forgotten form was brought to light once more, and then in 1880, the grand spa complex emerged from its earthy tomb. While the Great Bath itself remains a testament to Roman ingenuity, its leaden lining unchanged, the structures and statues that stand proudly above are a Victorian homage to the classical style. A more recent marvel graced the Baths in 2007 - the Beau Street Hoard, a breathtaking collection of 17,660 Roman coins discovered near the site. Once fused in their earthen pouches and dating from 32BC to 274AD, they now gleam on permanent display at the Roman Bath Museum. As a testament to its remarkable history, the city of Bath was declared a world heritage site in 1987.

A mere twelve miles distant lies Bristol, a thriving city that has eclipsed Bath in population. In Roman days, this was the site of Abona, a modest settlement connected to Bath by a sturdy road. The countryside, too, was dotted with Roman villas, forts, and humble dwellings. A more recent treasure emerged in the southern reaches of modern Bristol, at Hengrove. In September of 2019, as sturdy machines carved the earth for new houses, fortune smiled. No heritage assessment had deemed these lands rich in archaeological promise, yet lo and behold, a trove of Roman coins shimmered in the sunlight!

Upon the initial unearthing of 277 coins, the esteemed Cotswold Archaeology (CA), a charitable trust devoted to the advancement of archaeological knowledge and the preservation of our nation's heritage, was entrusted with a watching brief. Customarily, the local Finds Liaison Officer for the Portable Antiquities Scheme would be the first port of call for a potential Treasure discovery of this nature. The CA ascertained that the hoard lay within a pit hewn from the very earth itself.  Sadly, the coins, their accompanying pottery vessel, and a scale formed of bronze were extracted from this pit prior to the CA's arrival. Yet, in this very process, another 32 coins were brought to light – thus, the Hengrove Hoard boasts a total of 309 coins in bronze and silver-bronzed metal, all humble denominations from the middle years of the fourth century.

Hengrove itself lies not near any settlement of Roman provenance, yet in 1869, nigh a stream at nearby Filwood, 1000 Roman bronze coins hailing from the first to third centuries were discovered. The freshest coin amongst the Hengrove Hoard was minted in Arles sometime between 355 and 358 AD, leading to the conjecture that burial occurred no later than 360.  Many coins bear no trace of wear, or but the merest hint, hinting at a brief existence before their interment. CA scholars point out that the Bristol vicinity has yielded several mid-4th century Roman hoards – Wraxall, Gatcombe, Hanham Abbots, Blaise Castle – though in the broader scope of England, Roman hoards of the late 350s are somewhat rare.  A mere 21 coins stem from 294-348, 35 from 348-350, with a peak of 214 from 350-353.  Those of 353-358 number a modest 37, while two remain enigmatically undated.

A full quarter of the coins are imitations, a common enough sight in Britain of the 350s and early 360s. These were struck locally, for the demand for coinage outstripped the supply reaching Britain's shores from the imperial mints.  Most curious within the hoard is the hefty presence (nearly half the officially struck coins!) of those bearing the names of the usurpers Decentius and Magnentius, emperors of the Roman West but for a mere three years, from 350 to 353. This sets the Hengrove Hoard markedly apart from its contemporaries.

But who were these usurpers? We must rewind to the century's dawn.  In 305, Emperor Constantius waged his second campaign on British soil, his son Constantine by his side.  Early in 306, a Roman victory over the Picts of the north.  York, a regional capital of Roman Britain and fortress of its legions, was the seat of the northern command – and became, when the Emperor was in the north, an Imperial Court.  On the 25th of July, 306, the Emperor breathed his last in York.  Sons did not yet inherit such lofty stations, but Constantine's loyal legions hailed him emperor nonetheless.  His reign, with his sons as Caesars, earned him the title of Constantine the Great!

The Fateful Coin Find

To be groomed for greatness is one matter, but how did Constantine truly earn the mantle of 'The Great'? Dr. Christopher Kellyi, an esteemed scholar of Cambridge, sheds light on the matter during the unveiling of the exhibition, 'Constantine the Great – York’s Roman Emperor': three causes stand paramount.  "After nigh on eighty years of bitter strife and disunity, Constantine reunited the Roman Empire under a single banner. His leadership brought an age of stability and peace to Roman lands."

"Furthermore, Constantine cast his gaze beyond Rome itself, forsaking the Eternal City. He built a magnificent new capital at Constantinople – what today we call Istanbul. Rome and Italy grew ever more vulnerable to foreign attacks over the next two centuries, yet the shrewdly fortified Constantinople remained a beacon for a millennium. But," Dr. Kellyi added, "it was Constantine’s unwavering support of Christianity that forever altered the course of European history."

Alas, Constantine's sons, made joint Augusti upon their father's demise in 337, tore the realm apart. Constantine II oversaw the northern regions of the West, Constans the southern, and Constantius II the Eastern territories. Yet, brotherly rivalry soon poisoned the bonds of empire, reawakening political and religious divisions. Civil war erupted in 340, with Constantine II marching on Italy.  Sadly, he perished in an ambush near the city of Aquileia, leaving Constans and Constantius II to divide the Empire between them.

The Usurper, Magnentius

As for Magnentius, Seth W Stevensoniv tells us he was a Briton or perhaps a Gaul, born to a family of humble means. Yet, from roughly 303 AD, he was raised by Constans, who admired his martial prowess. While serving as Captain of the Guard, he nearly met his end in a violent uprising; Constans alone spared his life. Gratitude should have fueled his loyalty, yet Constans was a cruel despot, despised by his subjects. Thus, in January of 350, this self-same Magnentius cast aside his fealty and proclaimed himself emperor in Autun, Gaul. Constans fled, but was soon captured and slain. Though triumphant in the West, Magnentius' claim was disputed by Constantius II.

The Fall of the Usurper

In March of 351, Constantius II led his legions westward, defeating Magnentius at the ferocious Battle of Mursa (now Osijek, in modern Croatia). The usurper's grip on Italy, Spain, and Africa faltered, yet he clung to Britannia and Gaul. To bolster his cause, Magnentius named his brother Decentius as Caesar in late 351 or early 352, charging him with the defense against the Alemanni tribes – whom Constantius II had incited to cross the Rhine. Alas, they trounced Decentius' forces. Worse still, the heavy taxes imposed by Magnentius to fund his war sparked a revolt in Gaul. Decentius was cast out of Treves, the province's capital, and retreated to Sens... only to find the city besieged by those same Alemanni.

In desperation, Magnentius sought a truce with Constantius II in 352, yet each overture was rejected. By the summer of 353, Constantius was marching through Gaul, shattering his foe at the Battle of Mons. Magnentius fled to Lugdunum (today's Lyon) and met his end upon his own sword. News of his brother's fate reached Decentius, and he too took his own life by hanging.

The Buried Hoard

Though the earthenware vessel holding the coins was shattered, the skilled hands at the Council of Archaeology have determined its original size: near eight inches high, and seven at the rim. The bronze pan scale found beside it would have fit neatly inside. Curiously, such Roman scales are rare discoveries in Britannia. But stranger yet is the Hengrove Hoard's unusual makeup: nearly half the coins originate from the usurpers' reign! This leads archaeologists to propose a political motive for burying the treasure. Could it be that after Magnentius' fall, Constantius II hunted down his erstwhile supporters in Britain? If so, a loyalist with a hoard of such coins might find the earth a safer bank...

Alas, we shall never know for sure. Yet, this hoard stands as a testament to the West Country's fortunes, and the upheavals that marked the heart of the fourth century.