After 1066, a medieval millionaire buried his fortune underground – why did he never reclaim it?
A stunning treasure trove of Anglo-Saxon coins reveals how rebellion, loyalty and fear shaped England in the wake of 1066. The story of who, precisely, owned it could be even more interesting

What’s buried in the ground beneath your feet? Depending on where you stand, there might be fragments of bone, shards of pottery or the splintered tip of a prehistoric arrowhead mingled among the mud and rock. Or, just possibly, there might be something more extraordinary: a stash of early medieval coins from a moment of enormous national upheaval.
That’s precisely what a team of metal detectorists uncovered in 2019, in a field in the Chew Valley, a rural area in the English county of Somerset. Guided by their metal detectors, they traced a signal to a lead container buried in the soil. In and around it lay 2,528 silver coins from the 11th century.
They were remarkably well-preserved – and incredibly illuminating.
Dubbed the Chew Valley Hoard, this was the largest discovery of Norman-era coinage since the 1830s.
What makes it so unusual is its balance: nearly equal numbers of coins minted under Harold II – the last Anglo-Saxon king of England – and William I, better known as William the Conqueror, the Norman duke who invaded and claimed the English throne in 1066.
“The Chew Valley Hoard is getting on for 2,500 Anglo-Saxon pennies and Anglo-Norman pennies,” notes Michael Lewis, head of portable antiquities and treasure at the British Museum, speaking on the HistoryExtra podcast alongside his colleague Ian Richardson. “It's almost [an even split of] coins of Harold II … and William I, his nemesis and the king thereafter.”
Harold II vs William I
Harold II, also known as Harold Godwinson, came from one of the most powerful noble families in the kingdom and was chosen by the Witan, the Anglo-Saxon council of nobles, to succeed the ineffectual Edward the Confessor upon his death in January 1066. Harold’s reign lasted just nine months before he was killed at the battle of Hastings that October (possibly taking an arrow to the eye, but that is much debated), falling to the forces of William, Duke of Normandy.
William, a distant cousin of Edward, claimed that the English throne had been promised to him years earlier – a scene famously captured in the Bayeux Tapestry.
After securing support in Normandy and papal backing from Rome, he launched an invasion of England and won a decisive victory at Hastings. Crowned king of England on Christmas Day 1066, William’s reign marked the beginning of seismic political and cultural change in the British Isles and the start of a new era of medieval history.
The Chew Valley Hoard is a telling reflection of this precise moment of sharp transition.
That balance in the number of coins bearing the faces of these rival monarchs gives the hoard extraordinary historical significance. It represents a snapshot of a country caught between a fallen Anglo-Saxon order and the rise of Norman rule.

The messy reality of the Norman Conquest
The date range of the coins – from Harold II’s short reign in 1066 through the early years of William I’s rule – places the hoard in a period of intense instability. While schoolbook versions of the Norman Conquest often present 1066 as a single, decisive event, the reality was far more complex.
“When we're taught about 1066 at school … we're all told that William became king, controlled the country, everybody accepted him,” says Lewis. “But it certainly wasn't the case.”
After William’s coronation, resistance flared across the country. In the southwest, Harold’s mother, Gytha, organised rebellion in Exeter, one of the last strongholds of Anglo-Saxon power.
- Read more | Who were the Normans?
“The Anglo-Saxons were, and probably remained, a rebellious lot,” Lewis adds. “There's a story in 1068 that the citizens of Exeter were the first town to fight for their liberty against the Anglo-Norman regime.” The city’s stand against England’s new rulers prompted a bloody siege.
Elsewhere, Harold’s sons escaped to Ireland and launched raiding missions along the western coast of England. Their attacks were unsuccessful – “they really just raided and took wealth,” says Lewis – but they kept anti-Norman sentiment alive.
In the north, Danish forces allied with Anglo-Saxon rebels. This prompted William’s infamous Harrying of the North across 1069 and 1070, a scorched-earth campaign that left wide areas of Yorkshire and beyond devastated.
Why bury a medieval fortune?
The Chew Valley Hoard wasn’t a few spare coins stashed away for safekeeping. “When it was deposited, it was worth [a] considerable amount of money … the value of a small estate, potentially, for an annual revenue,” Lewis explains.
But who owned the Chew Valley Hoard?
The dual presence of Harold and William coins strongly suggests it was buried in the late 1060s or early 1070s, during the uncertain early years of Norman rule. The owner was almost certainly a wealthy Anglo-Saxon landholder – someone, likely male, who had survived the immediate upheaval of 1066 and adapted, at least partially, to the new regime. But hiding such a large sum points to a deep anxiety. And this landowner would have had reason to worry.
Land seizures, new taxation systems and local uprisings all created an atmosphere of uncertainty. The Domesday Book, compiled by 1086, records massive transfers of land from Anglo-Saxon to Norman hands in the decades following the conquest.
“It’s indicative of the fact that people didn't necessarily think storing coinage in their houses was the most sensible thing to do,” says Lewis. “You might find a safe place elsewhere.”
But if this money was stowed away to protect it from the Normans (or raiding Anglo-Saxon rebels), why did this landowner never return to reclaim his wealth?

A physical trace of Anglo-Saxon resistance?
“Like a lot of these coin hoards that are discovered … someone has amassed a pretty large amount of money that they've never come back for,” says Lewis. “And the question is: why didn’t they?”
Was the owner killed in battle, captured or stripped of their land? Did he take part in one of the many anti-Norman uprisings and never return? Lewis believes political violence may hold the key.
- Read more | The Normans: a timeline
“If they get mixed up in the violence, that ultimately follows [then] they never come back for the wealth that they've deposited.”
That possibility leads to a dramatic conclusion. Perhaps the owner was killed in rebellion. Perhaps they fled. Or perhaps he had lands revoked from him under William’s rule and was never able to return.
“Is this hoard a physical manifestation of resistance to William the Conqueror’s regime?” Lewis asks. “I'd love to say, ‘Yes, definitely.’ Instead, I'd say ‘It’s pretty likely.’”
This article is based on an interview with Michael Lewis and Ian Richardson, speaking to David Musgrove on the HistoryExtra podcast. Listen to the full conversation.
Authors
James Osborne is a digital content producer at HistoryExtra where he writes, researches, and edits articles, while also conducting the occasional interview