Coining the Coin-Tree: Contextualising a contemporary British ...

COINING THE COIN-TREE:

CONTEXTUALISING A CONTEMPORARY BRITISH CUSTOM

A thesis submitted to the University of Manchester for the degree of Doctor of

Philosophy in the Faculty of Humanities

2014

CERI HOULBROOK

SCHOOL OF ARTS, LANGUAGES AND CULTURES

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CONTENTS

Abstract 10

Declaration 11

Copyright Statement 11

Acknowledgements 12

The Author 13

Chapter 1: Introduction 14

1 – ‘Festering Superstitions’? 14

2 – Introducing the Coin-Tree 16

3 – Personal Motivation 16

4 – Aims and Objectives 17

5 – Material Culture 19

6 – Contemporary Archaeology 20

7 – Thesis Structure 23

Chapter 2: Literature Review 26

1 – Introduction 26

2 – Cross-Cultural Studies 26

3 – Historical Ritual Uses of Trees in the British Isles 28

4 – Contemporary Ritual Uses of Trees 31

5 – Historical Coin-Trees 35

6 – Contemporary Coin-Trees 37

7 – Theoretical Framework: ‘Folklore Archaeologist’ 39

8 – The History of British Folklore Studies 43

9 – Archaeology and Folklore: A Brief History 45

10 – The Folklore of Archaeology 47

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11 – The Archaeology of Folklore 51

12 – Conclusion 55

Chapter 3: Methodology 58

1 – Terminology 58

2 – Identification and Cataloguing 58

3 – The Empirical Data: Locating the Coin-Trees 61

4 – The Empirical Data: Producing a Plan 62

5 – The Empirical Data: Conditions of the Coin-Trees 63

6 – The Empirical Data: Cataloguing Coins 64

7 – The Excavation Data: Ardmaddy 67

8 – The Ethnographic Data: Observation 70

9 – The Ethnographic Data: Interviewing 72

10 – The Ethnographic Data: The Internet 73

Chapter 4: ‘Reading Superstition Backwards’ 75

Part 1: The Historical Coin-Tree 76


2 – Case-Study: Isle Maree, Scotland 78

3 – Case-Study: Clonenagh, the Republic of Ireland 82

4 – Case-Study: Ardboe, Northern Ireland 84

5 – Reading ‘Superstition’ Backwards 86

6 – The Rag-Tree 87

7 – Outliving Holy Wells 88

8 – Substituting the Sacred: Gougane Barra 89

9 – Contagious Transfer 92

10 – The Implantation of Disease 93

11 – Coins as Deposits 95

12 – The Bowed Coin 97

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13 – Touch-Pieces 98

14 – The Coin’s ‘Amuletic Quality’ 100

15 – The Royal Effigy 102

16 – Coins and Value 103

17 – Reversing Value 104

18 – Debunking the ‘Disenchantment’ 108

Part 2: The Contemporary Renaissance 110

1 – The Contemporary Coin-Tree 110

2 – The Cult of the Child 112

3 – The Dawn of the Day-Tripper 114

4 – Availability: A Change in Forestry Policy 117

5 – ‘Folklore 2.0’ 118


Chapter 5: Contemporary Engagement 125


2 – Engaging with the Coin-Tree: Prior Knowledge 128

3 – The First Encounter 130

4 – ‘Queue Mentality’ 132

5 – A Matter of Imitation 134

6 – Art and Aesthetics 136

7 – Captivation 138

8 – Aesthetic Appreciation 139

9 – Interactivity 141

10 – ‘Tagging’ Trees 145

11 – Individuation 148

12 – Money and Metonymy 153

13 – The Coin as Memento; the Coin as Sacred? 155

14 – The Tree as Incidental 157

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Chapter 6: The Mutability of Meaning 161


2 – Applying Purpose 164

3 – The Wishing-Tree 166

4 – ‘A Child’s Kind of Fairy-Tale’ 167

5 – The Mutability of Meaning 170

6 – Modernising Meaning 172

7 – Coining the Coin-Tree: What’s in a Name? 175

8 – Fixing Meaning 178

9 – Case-Study: St. Nectan’s Glen, England 180

10 – Folklorismus: Manipulating Meaning 185

11 – A (Fostered) Misconception of Age 188

12 – A (Natural) Misconception of Age 191

13 – Location and Organic Manipulation 192

14 – The Coin-Tree and the Rag-Tree 194

15 – Healing in Ireland 195

16 – Memory: A New ‘Meaning’ 197


Chapter 7: The Future of the Coin-Tree 202

Part 1: Conserving the Coin-Tree 203


2 – The Mortality of the Coin-Tree 204

3 – ‘Green Monuments’ 206

4 – The Coin-Tree’s Ambiguity 208

5 – Age, Authenticity, and the Heritage Debate 210

6 – Removing the Coin-Tree 211

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7 – Preservation in Situ 215

8 – Fencing/Fossilizing: The Stonehenge Case-Study 216

9 – ‘Freeing’ not ‘Freezing’: Intangible Cultural Heritage 218

10 – Sustainability 219

11 – Combating the Custom: The Glastonbury Thorn 220

12 – Strategic Recommendations 221

13 – De-Coining the Coin-Tree 223

14 – Cataloguing Coin-Trees 225

15 – The Ardmaddy Wishing-Tree Project, Scotland 227

Part 2: Reconstructing the Coin-Tree 228


2 – The Future Archaeological Site: The Tree 229

3 – The Future Archaeological Site: The Coin 232

4 – Dating the Site 234

5 – Issues with Dating 237

6 – Interpreting the Coin-Tree Site as a ‘Hoard’ 239

7 – Identifying the Receptacle 242

8 – Ritual Interpretations 244

9 – The Depositors 248


Chapter 8: Conclusion 252

1 – The Coin-Tree Contextualised? 252

2 – Archaeology and Folklore 255

3 – Limitations and Future Research 257

4 – ‘Festering Superstitions’? 261

Bibliography 262

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Appendix 1: Illustrations 302

1.1 – Figures 302

1.2 – Maps 373

Appendix 2: Coin-Tree Data 377

2.1 – Coin-Tree Sites Abbreviations and Quantities 377

2.2 – Conditions of Coin-Trees 378

2.3 – Decay Classes 378

2.4 – Creation Dates of English and Welsh Coin-Trees 378

2.5 – Identifiable Coin-Tree Species 379

2.6 – The Life-Expectancy of Trees According to Species 379

2.7 – Aira Force Case-Study 380

2.8 – Ardboe Case-Study 391

2.9 – Ardmaddy Case-Study 397

2.10 – Arnside Knott Case-Study 405

2.11 – Becky Falls Case-Study 409

2.12 – Bolton Abbey Case-Study 426

2.13 – Brock Bottom Case-Study 441

2.14 – Claife Station Case-Study 444

2.15 – Clonenagh Case-Study 447

2.16 – Corfe Castle Case-Study 453

2.17 – Cragside Case-Study 457

2.18 – Dovedale Case-Study 460

2.19 – Fairy Glen Case-Study 477

2.20 – Fore Case-Study 485

2.21 – Gougane Barra Case-Study 495

2.22 – Grizedale Case-Study 505

2.23 – Hardcastle Crags Case-Study 513

2.24 – High Force Case-Study 524

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2.25 – Ingleton Case-Study 536

2.26 – Isle Maree Case-Study 569

2.27 – Leigh Woods Case-Study 587

2.28 – Loxley Case-Study 589

2.29 – Lydford Gorge Case-Study 591

2.30 – Malham Case-Study 607

2.31 – Marbury Case-Study 631

2.32 – Padley Gorge Case-Study 636

2.33 – Portmeirion Case-Study 642

2.34 – Rydal Case-Study 658

2.35 – Snowdon Case-Study 664

2.36 – St Nectan’s Glen Case-Study 669

2.37 – Stock Ghyll Case-Study 679

2.38 – Tarn Hows Case-Study 689

2.39 – Tarr Steps Case-Study 712

Appendix 3: Coin Data 728

3.1 – Denominations of Coins 728

3.2 – Dates of Coins 732

3.3 – Catalogue of Foreign Coins 734

3.4 – Terms for Coin Conditions 737

3.5 – All Deposits: Casual, Ambiguous, Planned 737

3.6 – Annual Quantities of Coins Issued 738

Appendix 4: Ethnographic Data 739

4.1 – Interview Strategy 739

4.2 – One-hour Observations 740

4.3 – Number of Interviews Conducted 742

4.4 – Age Ranges of Interview Participants 742

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4.5 – Ethnicities of Interview Participants 743

4.6 – Places of Residence of Interview Participants 744

4.7 – Names of Coin-Trees 745

Appendix 5: The Ardmaddy Excavation 746

5.1 – Site Location 746

5.2 – Excavation Site Plan 747

5.3 – Test Pit Dimensions 747

5.4 – Context Register 748

5.5 – Excavation Results 748

5.6 – Distribution of Coins 761

5.7 – Dates of Coins 764

5.8 – Denominations of Coins 765

5.9 – Depths of Coins 766

5.10 – Levels of Corrosion 768

5.11 – Signs of Percussion 772

5.12 – Non-Coin Deposits 774

5.13 – Small Finds Register 778

5.14 – Small Finds in Turf 792

5.15 – Unstratified Finds 798

Appendix 6: ‘Sanctifying Our Sites’ Blog Entry 799

Total word count: 91,980

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ABSTRACT

This thesis offers an archaeological and ethnographic examination of the coin-tree

custom, which is essentially what its name suggests: the practice of inserting coins

into trees. These trees are often in the form of logs or stumps, and they are

commonly located beside well-traversed footpaths in rural/semi-rural areas.

The custom can be traced back to the 1860s in Scotland, but has experienced a late

20th

/early 21st-century renaissance, with clusters of coin-trees emerging across

England, Wales, Scotland, Northern Ireland, and the Republic of Ireland. No

previous academic attempt has been made to either catalogue these structures or

contextualise the practice; it is the aim of this thesis, therefore, to do both.

Proffering a catalogue of 197 individual coin-trees distributed across 34 sites

(detailed in the appendices), this thesis draws on a wide range of resources in order

to elucidate the custom: literary works, both historical and contemporary; the

empirical data of the coin-trees themselves; and the ethnographic material of over

200 participant interviews.

The history of the custom is traced, including a consideration of why it has

experienced a recent resurgence – particularly at a time popularly conceived of as a

‘secular age’. The questions of how and why people participate are examined in

detail, revealing a mutability to the ‘meaning’ of the custom, and a consideration of

the future and heritage of the coin-tree structures themselves is also offered. The

thesis closes with a suppositional vignette: what would an archaeologist find if she

uncovered a coin-tree site in the future? How would she interpret the remains? And

what does this reveal about archaeological methodologies, ritual interpretations, and

the relationship between folklore and material culture?

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DECLARATION

No portion of the work referred to in this thesis has been submitted in support of an

application for another degree or qualification of this or any other university or other

institute of learning.

COPYRIGHT STATEMENT

i. The author of this thesis (including any appendices and/or schedules to this thesis)

owns certain copyright or related rights in it (the “Copyright”) and she has given The

University of Manchester certain rights to use such Copyright, including for

administrative purposes.

ii. Copies of this thesis, either in full or in extracts and whether in hard or electronic

copy, may be made only in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act

1988 (as amended) and regulations issued under it or, where appropriate, in

accordance with licensing agreements which the University has from time to time.

This page must form part of any such copies made.

iii. The ownership of certain Copyright, patents, designs, trade marks and other

intellectual property (the “Intellectual Property”) and any reproductions of copyright

works in the thesis, for example graphs and tables (“Reproductions”), which may be

described in this thesis, may not be owned by the author and may be owned by third

parties. Such Intellectual Property and Reproductions cannot and must not be made

available for use without the prior written permission of the owner(s) of the relevant

Intellectual Property and/or Reproductions.

iv. Further information on the conditions under which disclosure, publication and

commercialisation of this thesis, the Copyright and any Intellectual Property and/or

Reproductions described in it may take place is available in the University IP Policy

(see http://documents.manchester.ac.uk/DocuInfo.aspx?DocID=487), in any relevant

Thesis restriction declarations deposited in the University Library, The University

Library’s regulations (see http://www.manchester.ac.uk/library/aboutus/regulations)

and in The University’s policy on Presentation of Theses

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

No thesis has ever left its writer with as many debts as this one has. Indeed, so many

people have contributed to it that to give each of them the written heartfelt thanks

they deserve would result in a piece of work lengthier than this thesis. Alas, I shall

have to keep it brief (note my loose conception of the word ‘brief’) – but in no way

should my concision be interpreted as a lack of gratitude.

First and foremost, thanks have to go to my wonderful supervisory team: Tim Insoll,

for his staunch support right from the beginning, laudable efficiency regardless of

where he is in the world, his deep ocean of knowledge, and for inspiring me to

research the archaeology of ritual in the first place. Petra Tjitske Kalshoven, for

warmly welcoming me into the fascinating realm of Anthropology, for her patience

in the face of my fledgling ignorance, her attention to detail, and for her distrust of

the term ‘folklore’, which made me consider it in a whole new light. And to Mel

Giles, for her kindness, infectious enthusiasm, and eagerness to share her wealth of

ideas, theories, and knowledge. You have all gone above and beyond what a

supervisory team is expected to do.

Many other members of Manchester University and Manchester Museum staff have

aided, informed, and inspired me in a vast variety of ways: Emma Loosley, Hannah

Cobb, Sian Jones, Karl Hennermann, Richard Atherton, Mandy Tootil, Soumhya

Venkatesan, Joanne Marsh, Amanda Mathews, Stephen Walsh, Irit Narkiss, Sam

Sportun, and Henry McGhie. Whilst researchers from across the world have shared

their invaluable and extensive knowledge, ideas, and information with me: Owen

Davies, Marion Bowman, Barbara Voss, Peter Harbison, Tõnno Jonuks, Vicky

Basford, John Winterburn, Timo Muhonen, John Billingsley, Jeremy Harte, Mark

Hall, Coralie Mills, Sally Daffarn, Janet Hooper, Kieran McCarthy, and Chris

Bonsall.

This thesis would not have been possible without the many funders who have

contributed generously to my research: the Folklore Society, the Catherine

Mackichan Trust, the Society for Post-Medieval Archaeologists, the Sidney Perry

Foundation, the Heritage Lottery Fund, the AHRC, and the University of Manchester

Archaeology Department. This thesis would also not have been possible without the

permission, cooperation, and enthusiasm of heritage professionals and coin-tree

custodians: Sue Turnbull, Kenny Nelson, Simon Nicholas, Sharon Webb, Julia

Hamilton, Charles Struthers, Stephen Dowson, Sam Stalker, Adrian Shaw, Wendy

Wells, Moira Smith, Vicky Lowles, Graeme McVittie, Phil Stuckey, Bridget

McCormarch, Finbarr Lucey, Steve Gillard, Jim Jeeves, Chris Moseley, Kate

Horsfall, Meurig Jones, Greg Robinson, Rachael Morgan, Stephen Bradley, Andrew

Marsh, Tony Bullough, Jamie Lund, Angharad Harris, Jerry Gunton, Jeremy Platts,

Phillip Hibbs, Chris Milner, Tom Lewis, Duncan Mackenzie, Peter Duncan, Mairi

Davies, Mrs Warbrick, Rachel Milner, Chris Raper, Jenny Sutton, Stephen Bradley,

Martin Davies, and Bill Morris. I’ve also had the good fortune of encountering

wonderfully enthusiastic local residents willing to share their knowledge of the

custom: John MacFarlane, Huw Rowlands, Mike Shaw, Robert Rae, Julie Ferris,

John Coles, Jane O’Reilly, and particularly Pat Grimes.

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A heartfelt thanks to all of those members of the public – the seasoned hikers, the

leisurely walkers, the sulky teenagers, the excitable children – who have answered

my questions, asked questions of your own, and are keeping the coin-tree custom

alive – without which, my research would have proved rather fruitless.

And of course, I am eternally grateful to my fellow postgraduate researchers who, in

their quest for knowledge, have inspired my own. Thank you to Natalie Armitage,

Jane Neild, Steve Gordon, Chiara Zuanni, John Piprani, Steve Leech, Ellen McInnes,

Bryn James, Steph Duensing, and Lara Bishop. Thank you for the proof-reading. For

the hearty debates. The constructive criticism. The selfless sharing of information,

ideas, resources (and, in the case of the Ardmaddy Excavation, rain-drenched

labour). And for the invaluable friendships I have gained over the last 3 years

(fuelled by Krispy Kreme donuts, Danish pastries, and spiced apple tea).

Last but by no means least, I have to thank the colourful array of family and friends

who’ve supported my research and worked as ad-hoc field assistants at coin-tree

sites across the country: Sarah (I told you we wouldn’t get murdered in the woods),

Bella (I foresee a career in archaeology in your future), Nana Margaret, Jane, Tony,

Paul, Mel, Qudsia (thank you for braving the dogs), Juliet, Cait, and Ami. A huge

thank you to my dad for his wealth of ideas, flurries of newspaper cuttings, and

endless enthusiasm for my work, and another huge thank you to my mum and Simon

for the hundreds of miles chauffeured, the thousands of coins counted, the mountains

climbed, the wet days braved, and the wonderfully funny memories accumulated

whilst out in the field.

Another huge thanks to my soon-to-be husband Mark, who never stopped supporting

me. You’ve braved the rain, the wind, the snow, the mud, my bad moods, and the

seemingly endless hours of tedious coin cataloguing with me, never once wavering

in your enthusiasm (we won’t mention Ardmaddy). If we can survive coin-tree

fieldwork, we can certainly survive marriage!

And finally to Nana Pat, for your encouragement, the fascinating conversations and

books we’ve shared, and for providing me with a strong, feisty role model. I’m sorry

that you didn’t get to read the final product of my research, but I dedicate this thesis

in your memory.

THE AUTHOR

Ceri Houlbrook is a postgraduate researcher in the Department of Archaeology at the

University of Manchester. She completed her BA(Hons) in Classical Studies at

Edinburgh University in 2008, and her MA in ‘Constructions of the Sacred, the Holy

and the Supernatural’ at the University of Manchester in 2011, her dissertation

entitled ‘The Suburban Boggart: Folklore’s survival, revival and recontextualisation

in an urban, post-industrial environment’. She considers herself a folklore

archaeologist, and has published her research on the material culture of folkloric

practices in the Cambridge Archaeological Journal (2013) and Folklore (2014).

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CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION

1 – ‘FESTERING SUPERSTITIONS’?

“It is the finest wych-elm in Hertfordshire. Did your sister tell you about

the teeth?”

“No.”

“Oh, it might interest you. There are pig’s teeth stuck into the trunk, about

four feet from the ground. The country people put them in long ago, and

they think that if they chew a piece of the bark it will cure the toothache.

The teeth are almost grown over now, and no one comes to the tree.”

“I should. I love folklore and all festering superstitions.” (Forster 1910

[2000]: 8.61)

The above exchange occurs in E. M. Forster’s novel Howards End (1910), between

Mrs Wilcox and chief protagonist Margaret Schlegel. Whilst describing the estate of

Howards End to Margaret, Mrs Wilcox mentions a local custom which avers that a

sufferer of toothache will be cured if they insert a pig’s tooth into the bark of a

certain Wych elm. This form of ‘folklore’, as Margaret identifies it, is known as

implantation, whereby something is achieved – in this case, the cure of toothache –

by plugging, nailing, or wedging an object into another object (Hand 1966). In this

example, toothache is transferred from the depositor into the tree via the

implantation of a tooth, which represents the disease; the disease is subsequently

implanted into the tree.

Mrs Wilcox’s Wych elm is not unique; across the British Isles, a veritable plethora

of trees have been employed for similar purposes. Trees from Cornwall to the

Highlands of Scotland have been subject to the embedding of a variety of objects,

such as human hair (Hand 1966: 64); nail-clippings (Roud 2003: 481); metal nails

(Walhouse 1880: 99n; Porteous 1928: 188); pins (Wilks 1972: 121); and human

blood (Hand 1966: 69), the depositors hoping for cures for ailments ranging from

toothache and warts to ague and whooping-cough.

However, as widespread as the custom of embedding objects into trees was, the

general consensus appears to be that the tradition has ebbed. Implanted trees are

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viewed in the past tense. Mrs Wilcox notes, with a sense of melancholy, that the

teeth in her Wych elm are ‘almost grown over now, and no one comes to the tree’,

whilst Margaret describes the custom as a ‘festering superstition’ (Forster 1910

[2000]: VIII, 61); from this perspective, the Wych elm is a decaying manifestation of

a faded, forgotten custom. Indeed, 20th

-century scholars adopt similar stances. In

1932, folklorist Benedict stated matter-of-factly that ‘folklore has not survived as a

living trait in modern civilization’ (1932: 292); it was her opinion that folkloric

customs, such as the implantation of disease into trees, are not features of modernity,

and that any survivals are just that: survivals. Festering superstitions.

This opinion appears to have preceded Benedict, with even 19th

-century folklorists

having to fight for the right to concern themselves with contemporary customs.

Writing in 1885, folklorist Hartland stated: ‘I decline to be limited to survivals, or to

archaic beliefs and customs’ (1885: 117, emphases in original), contending instead

that: ‘Tradition is always being created anew, and that traditions of modern origin

wherever found are as much within our province as ancient ones’ (1885: 120).

Writing of ‘Tree Traditions and Folklore from Northeast Ireland’ (2000), Simon

takes a similar stand. Using the books of Wilks (1972) and Morton (1998) as

examples, he notes that works which ‘discuss the folk beliefs, uses and symbolism

ascribed to plants and trees…tend to view folklore as something practised in the past

or unconnected with present society’ (2000: 33). Simon contests this approach,

drawing on examples from Ireland to substantiate his claim that ‘tree traditions’ are

not merely remnants of the past, but are active features of the present.

Similarly, writing of ‘Plants as Symbols in Scotland Today’ (2010), Van den Eynden

remarks on the contemporaneity of customs and beliefs which are commonly viewed

as historical. He avers that there ‘is a need to update the status of plant symbolism in

present times and to assess how relevant it may be nowadays. It is worth

knowing…which traditional and contemporary uses are practised at present’ (2010:

239). It is the aim of this thesis to address his comment; to align myself with Simon

and Van den Eynden in their assertions that tree traditions are alive, active, and

relevant in present-day society. In order to achieve this aim, this thesis will focus on

a single, grossly understudied example of a British tree tradition: the coin-tree.

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2 – INTRODUCING THE COIN-TREE

Coin-trees are exactly what their name suggests: trees which have been embedded

with coins (Appendix 1, Figs. 1-6). They are often logs, stumps, or living trees, but

outdoor wooden posts and sculptures are also included, and they are alternatively

referred to elsewhere as ‘money-trees’ and ‘wishing-trees’. This thesis focuses

specifically on the coin-trees of the British Isles, and offers the first known academic

attempt to catalogue and contextualise them.

Thus far, 34 coin-tree sites (containing between them 197 individual coin-trees) have

been catalogued (Appendix 1.2, Maps 1-4). They are distributed across Scotland,

England, Wales, Northern Ireland, and the Republic of Ireland, with distinct clusters

in South-West and North-West England. They range in date from the 19th

to the 21st

centuries, the vast majority having emerged during a late 1990s/early 2000s

widespread resurgence of the custom. The actual purpose of implanting coins into

these trees, and the reason behind the recent resurgence, is not information that can

easily be summarised in this Introduction, but is instead the main aim of this thesis to

examine.

3 – PERSONAL MOTIVATION

My personal motivation for examining this custom stems from a childhood

experience. In the late 1990s, at the age of 12 or 13 (when a PhD was still a distant,

foreign concept), I went on a daytrip to the popular tourist attraction of Bolton

Abbey, Yorkshire, with my family. Surrounding the ruins of the Augustinian Bolton

Priory are 12,000 hectares of woodland and riverside paths, and it was along one of

these paths that I came across my first coin-tree (Fig. 1, Appendix 2.12). It was

impossible to miss. A vast log, 6.8m in length, stretched out alongside a curve in the

path, and its bark was encrusted with so many coins that it appeared more metal than

wood. Other visitors were contributing their own coins to this tree, either pushing

them into fissures in the bark or utilising nearby rocks to hammer them in. My sister

and I asked if we could do the same; our parents obliged, handing us each a copper

coin which we proceeded to add to this accumulation.

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It would be romantic to claim that this experience set me on course to undertake a

PhD in archaeology and folklore; that this one coin-tree made such an impression on

my young mind that I decided, there and then, to one day research this custom. In

truth, however, at the time this experience had little impact on me. I cannot recall

what purpose I believed the coin-tree had or whether I asked my parents for an

explanation; perhaps my mind was on other things as I knocked my coin into the

tree. However, the memory obviously remained with me, for over a decade later,

when I first began to consider contemporary British folk customs, an image of the

Bolton Abbey coin-tree re-emerged. Certain that there must have been other studies

concerned with this custom, I began researching. What I found was a paucity of

information.

4 – AIMS AND OBJECTIVES

Other than the rare and brief reference to individual examples sparsely scattered,

scholarship had not concerned itself with the coin-tree. Possibly due to the

contemporaneity of this custom, and the general belief that – as Simon worded it –

‘folklore [is] something practised in the past or unconnected with present society’

(2000: 33), very little attention had been given to the practice of coin-implantation in

the present day. No attempts had been made to examine, analyse, or interpret the

custom as a whole, and so, agreeing with Van den Eynden’s statement that there is a

need to update the contemporary status of plant-centred traditions (2010: 239), I

aimed to address this evident void in the scholarship.

The first objective of this thesis was to compile a catalogue of coin-trees within the

British Isles; the second, to contextualise the custom. Questions which this thesis

aims to address include: How widespread is the coin-tree custom within the British

Isles? How ‘old’ or ‘new’ are the custom and the structures of the coin-trees

themselves? Who participates in the custom and what purpose has been assigned to

the implantation of coins? What accounts for the custom’s late 20th

/early 21st-century

resurgence?

The ambiguity of the coin-tree as a subject-matter has led to further questions

concerning methodology. Firstly, how applicable is the term ‘folklore’? I use it

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frequently throughout this thesis, defined simply as the traditional customs, beliefs,

and legends, exclusive of orthodox religion and ritual, of a group of people.

However, as is detailed in Chapter 2, there is much controversy surrounding this

term, and five pages are devoted to a justification of its use within this thesis.

Secondly, what methodologies should be adopted in order to provide the fullest

contextualisation of this contemporary custom? Folklorist Vickery bemoans the

tendency of scholars to rely on late 19th

-century works as their sources for

contemporary plant-lore (1995: vii), and opines the following:

This reliance on previously published work has led to an almost total neglect

of contemporary material. All too often writers on folklore have quarried for

fossilized information in printed books and have made no attempt to collect

fresh, living, and lively material from the true authorities – the ‘folk’

themselves. Most recent publications on the folklore of plants tell us more

about late nineteenth-century plant-lore than about present-day beliefs and

practices. Indeed, there is even a widespread but mistaken belief that little

remains to be collected today (1995: vii)

It is a further aim of this thesis, therefore, to address Vickery’s remonstrations, and

to consider what sources can and should be drawn upon in the contextualisation of

the contemporary coin-tree.

Although Vickery bewails scholars’ tendencies to quarry for ‘fossilised’ information

on folkloric practices in books, this is a method that cannot be avoided, and the

printed word – ranging from 19th

-century antiquarian works to online blogs – has

been utilised wherever possible throughout my research. However, not at the

expense of the testimony of what Vickery terms ‘the true authorities – the ‘folk’

themselves’ (1995: vii). As detailed in Chapter 3, ethnographic data has been

gathered concerning the coin-tree through interviews with custom participants and

coin-tree custodians, and much evidence cited throughout this thesis was sourced

through such engagements with the ‘folk’.

However, another aspect of this folkloric custom is also considered: the material

culture of the coin-trees themselves. What can these physical structures elucidate

about the custom? What are they composed of and how are they created? What

testimony do the trees, the coins, and their environments give? In order to answer

these questions, archaeological methodologies were employed. Fieldwork was

conducted at each coin-tree site, a photographic record was compiled, and the

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empirical data of the coin-trees recorded, such as coin quantities (Appendices 2-3),

whilst at one coin-tree site (Ardmaddy, Argyll), an archaeological excavation was

undertaken on the area surrounding the tree (Appendix 5).

5 – MATERIAL CULTURE

Material culture plays a prominent role in this thesis’ contextualisation of the coin-

tree, as defined by Deetz as ‘that sector of our physical environment that we modify

through culturally determined behavior. This definition includes all artifacts, from

the simplest, such as a common pin, to the most complex, such as an interplanetary

space vehicle’ (1996: 35, emphases in original). It is a field of study which,

according to Tilley, centres on the notion that ‘persons cannot be understood apart

from things’ (2006: 2); we shape our physical world and, in turn, are shaped by our

physical world. Culture and society are inseparable from the material objects we use,

produce, create, consume, modify, and destroy. It is this concept which stands at the

centre of material culture studies.

However, despite being defined rather straightforwardly by Deetz above, ‘material

culture’ has been subject to numerous debates and accusations of ambiguity, most

thoroughly examined by Hicks (2010) and Lucas (2012). One issue questions the

focus of material culture; in 2007, Ingold criticised the abstractness of the term

‘materiality’ and the scholarly trend to fixate on the social contexts of materials in

lieu of their physical properties. He advocates the redirection of attention ‘from the

materiality of objects to the properties of the materials’ (2007: 12).

In response to Ingold’s advocation, Tilley (2007) points out that a focus on the brute

properties of materials can provoke the neglect of a consideration of their human

significance, whilst Miller (2007) argues that, rather than attributing properties to

objects, ‘material culture studies’ should consider what properties other peoples may

attribute to them. Knappett, on the other hand, argues that limiting focus to a

material’s physical properties excludes notions of indirect perception: ‘Are there not,

after all, associations that go beyond the immediate world of materials; what of

remembrance of past situations, or imagination of future ones?’ (2007: 22).

20

Another point expressed against ‘material culture’ is semantic in nature, critiquing

the implication inherent in the term that there is a distinction between ‘material’ and

‘culture’ (Hicks 2010: 80; Lucas 2012: 125). As Thomas argues, the ‘material’

preceding ‘culture’ appears as a qualifying prefix, implying that the norm is non-

material culture (2006: 15). However, he asserts that ‘there are no forms of culture

that lack a materiality…Nothing ever floats in pure ether’ (2006: 15). Thomas’

opposition to ‘material culture’ is therefore based on the impression of culture

implied by the term; an impression he perceives as erroneous.

While this thesis acknowledges these debates surrounding the term ‘material

culture’, it will not shy away from using it. Here, ‘material’ is not perceived as a

qualifying prefix indicating that immaterial culture is the norm, and no stringent

distinction between brute physicality and social significance will be made. Instead,

‘material culture’ is defined as a notion employed in archaeology to address the

significance of an object’s physical properties in a consideration of its social role.

Throughout this thesis, the coin-tree is viewed, presented, and analysed as such an

example of material culture, an approach which allows a close examination of how

the physical properties of a coin-tree contribute to what it means and does to people.

6 – CONTEMPORARY ARCHAEOLOGY

According to some definitions of ‘archaeology’, the contemporaneity of most coin-

trees would preclude them from an archaeological line of enquiry. In Klein’s 1966

Comprehensive Etymological Dictionary, archaeology is described as ‘the study of

ancient things’ (1966: 100, emphasis added), and it appears that this perceived focus

on the past has altered little in the intervening decades, with the online Oxford

English Dictionary’s definition still specifying that ‘archaeology’ is the ‘systematic

description or study of antiquities’ and the ‘scientific study of the remains and

monuments of the prehistoric period’ (OED Online 2014, emphases added).

However, the contemporaneity of my research is hardly radical; there have been

scholars researching the archaeology of contemporary material culture for over three

decades now, fore-fronted by the rise of ethnoarchaeology. ‘Ethnoarchaeology’,

which stems from the 1960s/1970s development of archaeology and anthropology as

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complementary disciplines, is defined by Hicks as ‘the comparative study of

contemporary human societies to inform the archaeological explanation of the past’

(2010: 51, emphasis added).

Its emergence as a discipline subsequently led to what Hicks (2010) terms the

‘Material-Cultural Turn’ in 1970s/1980s Britain, championed by the Department of

Archaeology at Cambridge University and the Department of Anthropology at

University College London, where archaeologists and anthropologists alike began

exploring the relationships between artefacts and contemporary social structures

(Hicks 2010: 49). By 1979, Rathje’s seminal article, ‘Modern material culture

studies’, was defining archaeology as ‘a focus on the interaction between material

culture and human behavior and ideas, regardless of time or space’ (1979: 2).

Rathje observes that ‘[m]ost of us have played the game, what will an archaeologist

learn about us in 1000 years? A few archaeologists have decided not to wait a

millennium for the answer and are taking the question seriously

now…Archaeologists are now doing the archaeology of us’ (1979: 2). Since 1979,

however, these ‘few archaeologists’ have multiplied, and a concern with modern

material culture has been salvaged from the fringes of academia, where it now stands

at the centre of many scholarly archaeological studies (Rathje 1979, 2011; Shanks

and Tilley 1987; Gould and Schiffer 1981; Hodder 1987; Graves-Brown 2000;

Buchli and Lucas 2001; González-Ruibal 2006, 2008; Tilley et al. 2006; Harrison

and Schofield 2010; Harrison 2011; Holtorf and Piccini 2011).

Indeed, the list of archaeologists who have focused on modern material culture is

vast, clearly illustrating that a justification of the archaeology of modern material

culture is – or should be – entirely redundant by now, three or four decades after the

interest manifested itself in scholarship. As Buchli and Lucas asserted over a decade

ago, ‘we no longer regard archaeology as a discipline defined by time period’ (2001:

3). Evidently, my study of the contemporary coin-tree is neither particularly

subversive nor avant-garde in its placement within the discipline of archaeology. It is

not, however, only relevant to the discipline; it is also intended to be beneficial.

Rathje advocates the employment of modern material culture studies in the testing,

developing, and validating of archaeological principles and practices (1979; 1981;

2011). The aim of this methodology is to ascertain how accurately we can analyse

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the artefacts and structures of past societies – and their relations with human

behaviour – utilising only the material evidence, by comparing it to the uses of

contemporary artefacts and structures. Modern settings are thus employed to

evaluate the theories and methods used for reconstructing the past.

In the mid-1960s, for example, Deetz and Dethlefsen (1965; 1966; Dethlefsen 1981)

had already begun evaluating the archaeological principles behind seriation through

an exploration of the changes and diffusion of designs on historic gravestones in

Massachusetts, considering how accurately they correlated with social changes of the

period. Rathje (1979), in his work on ‘garbology’, considers the disposal of waste

products in understanding the behavioural and natural factors involved in depositing

and modifying material culture. In 1981, Price-Beggerly (1981) was considering the

relationships between material culture and cultural values and beliefs in her study of

the use of fences in Mormon communities, while Portnoy (1981) was focusing her

attention on the relationships between behaviour patterns and physical settings in

contemporary Texan homes.

Rothschild’s (1981) object-focused analysis of pennies from the Denver Mint reveals

that American behaviour in relation to coins extends far beyond their use as

currency, drawing attention to aspects of American society which, as Gould and

Schiffer suggest, ‘might otherwise go unnoticed’ (1981: 62). Shanks and Tilley

(1987: 172-240) consider the contrasting designs of Swedish and British beer cans,

utilising them to offer insight into social values, social control, consumerism, and

attitudes towards leisure. While Hodder (1987) explores the involvement of material

culture – from bow ties to white lab coats; from decorative flowers to lease cars – in

negotiating social, economic, and industrial changes in a pet food factory, illustrating

the necessity of including long-term historical context in interpretations of the role of

material culture.

A study of the contemporary coin-tree, therefore, could be employed to test, develop,

or validate archaeological principles and practices. By considering how accurately

the coin-tree structures correlate with their actual uses, it can be ascertained how

illustrative the material evidence is of human behaviour, values, and beliefs.

However, despite the obvious benefits of applying modern material culture studies to

the testing of archaeological practices, the coin-tree is worthy of study in and of

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itself, not least to preserve the information of a contemporary custom for future

generations. This practice is advocated by Rathje (1979; 1981; 2011), González-

Ruibal (2008), and Harrison (2011), who proposes the development of ‘an

archaeology of the present, for the future’ (2011: 159, emphases in original).

The question of what role archaeology and material culture can play in facilitating

the study of folklore has been asked by numerous other scholars (see Chapter 2), but

the utilisation of these lines of enquiry, in addition to the testimony of the ‘folk’, in

order to contextualise a contemporary British custom is relatively new. Indeed, the

excavation of Ardmaddy, Argyll (Appendix 5), is the first excavation to have been

undertaken at a coin-tree site within the British Isles. By offering such a multi-

disciplinary study, it is hoped that this project will rectify an obvious academic

oversight, in drawing attention both to the benefits of collaboration between

archaeology and folklore, and to the paucity of studies that focus on contemporary

folk customs and tree traditions in the British Isles.

7 – THESIS STRUCTURE

Chapter 2 places this thesis within a wider corpus of material and research. It begins

with a literature review of works detailing tree-centred customs in the British Isles,

both historical and contemporary. Following this is a consideration of the few pieces

which refer to coin-trees, in which the Internet is presented as an invaluable

resource. This thesis is then considered in light of the history of collaboration (or

lack of) between the disciplines of archaeology and folklore in Britain. Following

this, Chapter 3 outlines the methodology employed for this research, detailing the

sources drawn upon for the compilation of the catalogue of coin-trees and the

methods followed during fieldwork: the collection of the empirical and ethnographic

data.

The remainder of this thesis adopts a chronological structure in its attempt to

contextualise the coin-tree, and each chapter is introduced by a vignette and

photographic image, as poetic and literary devices used to encapsulate the central

themes of the subsequent chapter. Chapter 4, ‘Reading Superstition Backwards: The

ancestry of the coin-tree’, is divided into two sections; the first looks to the past,

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tracing the history of the coin-tree custom in order to identify the traditions,

practices, and beliefs it derived from. The historical folkloric uses of trees and coins,

for example, are broadly considered, but for a closer examination, three case-studies

(Isle Maree, Wester Ross; Clonenagh, Co. Laios; and Ardboe, Co. Tyrone) of older

(19th

and early 20th

-century) coin-tree sites are described and, drawing on literary

sources, their histories detailed, demonstrating a close association between coin-

trees, holy wells, rag-trees, and nail-trees. In the second section, consideration then

turns to the contemporary coin-trees, questioning what factors contributed to the late

20th

-century resurgence of this custom.

Chapters 5 and 6 focus on the present day. Chapter 5, ‘Contemporary Engagement’,

questions how contemporary participants experience the coin-trees, drawing on both

ethnographic evidence and material data collected during fieldwork, with a

consideration of the roles played by physical interaction, imitation, art and aesthetics,

graffiti, and individuation. Whilst Chapter 5 analyses how people participate in this

custom, Chapter 6, ‘The Mutability of Meaning’, examines why they participate,

questioning what the purpose of implanting a coin into a tree is believed to be by a

contemporary participant. This chapter considers the mutability and malleability of

‘meaning’, with an ethnographic focus on how the coin-tree is variously interpreted

depending upon where/when it is, whether it is ‘marketed’, and who the individual

participants are.

Chapter 7, ‘The Future of the Coin-Tree’, considers the likely futures of the coin-tree

custom and the physical structures themselves. It covers an examination of the

heritage of this custom, questioning what – if anything – should be done in order to

protect, preserve, and manage the coin-trees and the intangible cultural heritage of

the practice. Employing ecological and archaeological theory, this chapter also

questions what will remain of the coin-trees in the future if no preservation attempts

are made, drawing extensively on data compiled during the excavation of the

Ardmaddy coin-tree site. This data is then used to consider how a future

archaeologist might interpret the remains of a coin-tree site, demonstrating the

archaeological implications of this contemporary folkloric practice and the

significance of ethnographic data.

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The research for this thesis produced a vast amount of primary data, much of which

is reproduced in the appendices. Due to the number of figures referred to several

times throughout the thesis, all photographs and maps are located in Appendix 1 for

ease of reference. Appendix 2 offers an alphabetised catalogue of each site visited,

detailing coin-tree quantities, coin densities, tree species, custodianship, etc.

Appendix 3 gathers together the data of all deposits catalogued, and Appendix 4

presents the ethnographic data: the demographics of all interview participants and

the statistics from my one hour of observation at each site. Appendix 5 records the

data compiled from the archaeological excavation at the site of the Ardmaddy coin-

tree.

Finally, Appendix 6 presents a short entry I had published on Berkeley University’s

online group blog, Then Dig, entitled ‘Sanctifying Our Sites: Self-reflection on an

archaeological dig’, together with its peer-reviews. This considers the

recontextualising agency of archaeology at the site of the Ardmaddy coin-tree, and is

presented in order to demonstrate both the relationship between archaeology and

folklore, and – by including the peer-reviews – the types of considerations and

conversations these structures spark in an academic environment.

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CHAPTER 2: LITERATURE REVIEW

1 – INTRODUCTION

This chapter is divided into two sections. The first will provide a review of literature

concerned with tree-centred rituals in the British Isles. These will prove to be

primarily historical in nature, and from this review a concise chronology of tree

rituals and beliefs within the British Isles will be constructed, from prehistory to the

post-Reformation period. Succeeding this section, the focus will tighten and begin to

review literature that details the contemporary perceptions, beliefs, and ritual uses of

trees in the British Isles, before analysing the few sources which detail the coin-tree

itself.

The second section will provide a review of my theoretical framework, examining

the disciplinary pairing of archaeology and folklore within academia. The history of

this pairing will be outlined and its current status considered, together with an

analysis of its merits and drawbacks.

2 – CROSS-CULTURAL STUDIES

In 1928, Porteous averred that ‘[i]n this prosaic age too little is thought about trees’

(1928: 150). It was his opinion that an inadequate amount of attention had been

given to trees in academic literature, as societal symbols, themes in mythology, and

central aspects of folkloric ritual. Over sixty years later, Milner, author of The Tree

Book, was making a similar claim, with his assertion that the ‘folklore of trees in

Britain is still little documented, except as incidental items about country customs or

passing references in accounts of cultural history’ (1992: 136).

A further 19 years later and the subject of lore and ritual uses of trees in the British

Isles still suffers from the same lack of scholarly interest, with no definitive,

academic piece of work having been published on the matter. However, enough can

be gleaned on the subject from what Milner refers to as the ‘incidental items’ (1992:

136); while there is undoubtedly an absence of contemporary and analytical

publications on the subject, there is certainly no lack of writings focused on tree

27

rituals in general (Turnbull 1965; Turner 1967; Bird-David 1990; Morphy 1995;

Sheridan and Nyamweru 2008). However, a detailed review of studies concerned

with perceptions of trees and woodland worldwide would prove unfeasible; even a

cursory description of the literature would result in a piece of work longer than the

thesis itself.

Cross-cultural studies are equally prolific. Frazer’s The Golden Bough (1900) is

undoubtedly worthy of mention. While Frazer’s work has undergone much scrutiny

and denigration in recent decades (Ackerman 1987: 1), the primary criticisms against

it being Frazer’s ‘armchair’ approach to research and the cultural imperialistic slant

to his writings, The Golden Bough still proves a highly useful resource. His first

chapter catalogues 114 examples of ritual uses of trees worldwide (Rival 1998: 5),

and while there is little focus on British tree rituals, he does describe the prominence

of tree-worship in Europe, particularly amongst the Celts (1900: 168), opining that

this manifested itself in England in the form of the may-pole (1900: 196ff).

Porteous’ work, Forest Folklore, Mythology and Romance (1928), takes a similar

stance to Frazer’s. He offers a broad, cross-cultural catalogue of tree rituals in an

attempt to analyse why trees feature so prominently in world mythology. His

conclusion, that ‘[t]o the imagination of early man a tree, being the largest of plants,

must have presented a marvellous and bewildering aspect’ (1928: 149) and so,

naturally, ‘primitive imagination would people it with all sorts of beings, such as

Gods, Nymphs, and Demons’ (1928: 150), may seem reductionist and rather

Jungian. However, his catalogue of tree rituals does include some useful examples of

British customs, such as the planting of a young tree for luck when a child is born

(1928: 182) and the knocking of nails into a tree as a remedy for toothache (1928:

188).

Writing earlier than both Frazer and Porteous was Thiselton-Dyer, who was neither

an anthropologist nor a folklorist, but a botanist. His work, The Folk-Lore of Plants,

presents the view that tree-worship is the ‘primitive faith of mankind’ (1889: 28),

and that to give a detailed account of the beliefs and rituals, which have survived

worldwide, would ‘occupy a volume of no mean size, so thickly scattered are they

among the traditions and legendary lore of almost every country’ (1889: 262). This

does not, however, prevent him from trying, and the result is a rather exhaustive –

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albeit not particularly in-depth or analytical – catalogue of plant and tree-centred

rituals and beliefs, with many examples from Britain.

3 – HISTORICAL RITUAL USES OF TREES IN THE BRITISH ISLES

There is no definitive, diachronic study of tree lore in the British Isles, tracing and

analysing such customs from prehistory to the modern-day. However, it is certainly

possible to sketch a picture of the tree’s ritual timeline in Britain using a wide range

of sources.

There are, for example, numerous studies concerning Mesolithic perceptions of

woodland, although there is little consensus amongst scholars. While Warren (2003)

believes that the early hunter-gatherers of Ireland saw themselves ‘to be in personal

relationships with the woodland’ (2003: 22), Davies et al. (2005) advocate the

opposite argument: that the hunter-gatherers of the Mesolithic dichotomised between

‘nature’ and ‘culture’, regarding woodlands as hostile. Perhaps the irreconcilable

differences between these scholars’ opinions reveal the uncertainty with which

prehistoric perceptions of woodland should be viewed.

There is, however, some material evidence concerning the ritual uses of trees in

prehistoric Britain, the most significant find being the Norfolk timber circle,

popularly known as ‘Seahenge’, dated to the 21st century BC. In 1998, a subcircular

ring of 55 oak timbers, surrounding the roots and base of an oak, buried upside-

down, was discovered at Holme-next-the-Sea (Bayliss et al. 1999; Brennand and

Taylor 2003). Champion (2000), Pryor (2002), and Brennand and Taylor (2003)

propose several theories on the structure’s ritual uses, with particular focus on the

significance of the inverted oak. For example, it is suggested by Champion (2000:

82) and Brennand and Taylor (2003: 71-72) that the structure may have been used as

an altar for funereal rites, the inversion of the oak symbolising the inversion of life

(i.e. death). While Pryor accepts that there are numerous possible purposes for the

central oak: by inverting it, the original creators of the structure could have intended

for the tree’s ‘life force’ to return to the earth (2002: 276); equally plausible is the

theory that the whole site was created as a shrine to the trees themselves (2002: 278).

29

Also illustrated in Champion and Pryor’s studies is the effect such sites have in the

present day. As Pryor himself admits, they were unprepared for the controversy they

would encounter when excavating ‘Seahenge’. In his own words, when the media

picked up on the excavation, ‘all hell broke loose’ (2002: 250), and they were faced

with groups of Druids, Pagans, and New Agers occupying the site to prevent the

removal of the timber posts and the central oak (2002: 254). The vast amount of

attention this site received from both the media and the public reveals that

archaeology should be far from exclusively concerned with the past, and the

contemporary responses to – and utilisations of – such sites should be considered

(explored in more detail below), a point which is highly relevant to the analysis of

coin-trees.

Transitioning into a period of history we know far more about, the numbers of

studies concerned with tree-centred rituals multiply. Trees as central features of

Romano-Celtic rituals are referred to by Woodward (1992), Dowden (2000: 58-77),

and Lewis (1966), who notes that the Celtic word nemeton, which came to mean

‘roofed shrine’, was originally translated as ‘grove’ (1966: 4-5), and many temples in

Roman Britain appear to have been erected around or beside sacred trees (1966:

135). Also prominent in such studies is the association of trees with sacred wells;

trees within close proximity to sacred wells were festooned with rags and known as

rag-trees (explored in Chapter 3).

The ritual uses of trees prove to be highly adaptable and subject to

recontextualisation, and nowhere is this more clearly evident than in the literature

which focuses on the introduction and rise of Christianity in the British Isles.

Bintley, for example, traces the Christian adoption of the symbol of the tree in his

doctoral thesis (2009), in which he investigates Anglo-Saxon perceptions of trees

and woodland. From the many trees marked with crosses, to the ceremonies of Royal

Oak Day and the figure of the ‘Green Man’ so frequently portrayed in church

architecture (Raglan 1939), Bintley demonstrates the mutability of tree symbolism.

Another invaluable source for the tree’s symbolic recontextualisation is Walsham’s

seminal work on The Reformation of the Landscape (2011). In her study of the

changing perceptions of the religious landscape throughout the early modern period,

she traces how trees were utilised politically in the post-Reformation period.

30

Walsham additionally describes the ‘metamorphosis of religious ritual into pastime’

(2011: 540), exploring how customs and sites of religious significance gradually

became the basis of folkloric practices, giving numerous examples of tree-centred

rituals and beliefs.

Less analytical than Walsham but of equal use are the numerous catalogues of

British folkloric customs, which date from the late 19th

century to the modern day.

Hardwick’s chapter, ‘The Divining of “Wish”-Rod, And Superstitions Respecting

Trees and Plants’ (1872: 252-266), for example, and Hull’s chapter on ‘The Worship

of Trees’ (1928: 118-135), which contains a diverse description of tree rituals and

beliefs across the British Isles. While Hole’s work on English Traditional Customs

focuses on slightly later ritual uses of trees, such as the Christmas tree (1975: 3), the

‘kissing bough’ (1975: 3), and the Yule Log (1975: 7), exploring their origins in

relation to earlier – often Germanic – rituals.

There are numerous pieces of literature that focus entirely on the historic beliefs and

rituals of trees in the British Isles, most notably Wilks’ Trees in the British Isles in

History and Legend (1972). While Wilks does not cite any references, unfortunately

providing no primary sources to draw upon, he does present a vast catalogue of

examples, detailing the tree’s usage in religious ritual, such as Gospel Oaks under

which the parish would congregate whilst passages from the gospel were recited

(1972: 22), as well as listing numerous examples of beliefs and customs associated

with different tree species.

Grigson also provides information on the folkloric qualities attributed to different

species. In his work, The Englishman’s Flora (1955), which is essentially a botanical

encyclopaedia, he details the physical appearance of certain trees, their cultural

histories, and how they have been variously utilised in the British Isles. The oak

(Quercus robur), for example, is given three pages of description, which contain

details of its use in popular medicine and its perceived sacredness.

The oak tree, in fact, features rather prominently in much of the literature, and there

are two studies focused entirely on this species: Hadfield’s ‘The Oak and its

Legends’ (1974) and Harris et al.’s Oak: A British History (2003). The former details

what Hadfield terms the role oak has played in the ‘sociological aspects of British

life’ (1974: 123), describing numerous examples of trees considered sacred,

31

protective, and curative. Harris et al. dedicate a similar chapter to exploring the

myths and symbolism of the oak (2003: 131-151), listing the numerous rituals to

which the species was central, such as the Druidic ceremony of gathering mistletoe

growing on oaks (2003: 133).

Harris et al.’s work was published by Windgather Press, a publisher specialising in

landscape history and archaeology, and other publications of theirs have also proven

useful, providing a broader overview of historic woodland environments in the

British Isles. Allen and Scaife’s chapter in Prehistoric and Roman Landscapes

(2007), for example, and Higham’s chapter ‘Woodland, Forest and Pasture’ (2004:

99-125) in A Frontier Landscape: The North West in the Middle Ages (2004).

Also useful for tracing the historical associations and ritual uses of the tree in the

British Isles is Thomas’ Man and the Natural World (1983), a diachronic exploration

of the shifting perspectives of British society towards trees. In his chapter on ‘The

Worship of Trees’ (1983: 212-223), he describes how, in the early modern period,

trees and woodland were increasingly imbued with symbolic value. From the 18th

century onwards, they became emblematic of a community’s continuity, of the

nation’s strength, and of a family’s ancestry.

4 – CONTEMPORARY RITUAL USES OF TREES

As demonstrated, there is no shortage of literature documenting and exploring the

historical ritual uses of trees in the British Isles. There are fewer works which

consider these ritual uses in a contemporary setting, but certainly enough to illustrate

the important role still played in modern-day society. Rackham’s comprehensive

study, Trees and Woodland in the British Landscape (1976), for example, traces the

various roles forests have played from prehistoric times to the 20th

century. Although

he cites no ritual uses of trees, his work is particularly useful for understanding the

mutable nature of woodland and for gathering insight into how archaeologists

should, in his opinion, approach the study of trees: by making ‘simultaneous use of

as many lines of inquiry as possible’ (1976: 108).

32

Davies’ work on ‘The Evocative Symbolism of Trees’ (1988), a chapter of Cosgrove

and Daniels’ The Iconography of Landscape, is another invaluable source, reflecting

on how trees have served as symbols. Questioning what makes them so emblematic,

Davies contemplates trees’ physical, botanical attributes, as well as their established

cultural associations, playing with Lévi-Strauss’ expression by noting that ‘trees are

not simply good to climb, they are good to think’ (1988: 34).

Harrison makes a similar observation in his study, Forests: The Shadow of

Civilization (1992), in which he traces the forest’s history as a prominent theme in

Western imagination, most notably as a metaphor for ‘primeval antiquity’ (1992: 1);

as the antecedent to, and frontier of, civilization. He also explores the ways in which

forests have the power to evoke memories, to act as an anchor with the past, and this

may indeed explain why trees are used in a contemporary setting to host rituals that

are, to modern eyes, invocations of antiquity; trees can, in a sense, carry us back

through time.

The subject of trees as historical anchors is most comprehensively – and rather

poetically – explored in Schama’s work on Landscape and Memory (1996). Schama

details how Western society imprints natural landscapes with cultural associations,

tracing the long history of ‘landscape metaphors’ (1996: 15), which we have shaped

and employed throughout history to the present day. He disputes the widely believed

claim that Western culture has lost its nature myths and traditions, averring that they

are in fact ‘alive and well’ (1996: 14), embodied in our national identities – for

example, the oak as a symbol of England – and our literary and artistic uses of

landscapes to represent time, place, and emotion.

Jones and Cloke’s study of Tree Cultures: The place of trees and trees in their place

(2002) presents similar theories, investigating how trees can define notions of place

and community. Throughout their work, they refer to ‘nature-society relations’,

tracing the ways in which people and communities can feel personal attachment

towards trees – as evidenced by the numerous protests in Britain over the felling of

trees (2002: 3). Jones and Cloke, however, do not only consider human perceptions

and utilisations of the tree, but the tree’s agency itself, as a living entity that can, and

does, have ‘relational agency’ with humans, and thus influences our notions of

culture and the environment.

33

The concept of agency is frequently employed in studies of trees and landscapes, and

is a term which will be prevalent throughout this thesis. Definitions I adhere to are

the simplest: Tilley’s interpretation of ‘agency’ as that which provides ‘affordances

and constraints for thought and action’ (2007: 19) and Zedeño’s as that which can

‘shape human behaviour and influence change’ (2013: 121). A consideration of the

debates concerning whether or not an object can possess the same agency as a human

are beyond the scope of this thesis (cf. Hodder 2012; Watts 2013). However, I

should note that I do not find Gell’s (1998) distinction between ‘primary’ agents

(people) and ‘secondary’ agents (objects) particularly appropriate as, despite Gell’s

protestations to the contrary (1998: 20), such terminology seems to attribute agency

to objects only ‘in a manner of speaking’. Instead, I adhere to Robb’s (2004)

distinction between ‘conscious agency’ and ‘effective agency’; objects such as trees

and coins do not have conscious intentionality, but they possess effective agency

because they have the capacity to influence and shape human behaviour.

Garner’s article, ‘Living History: Trees and Metaphors of Identity in an English

Forest’ (2004), examines the agency of trees in detail, drawing on material gathered

at Hatfield Forest in Essex. Garner examines how trees affect notions of time, place,

and identity, investigating how individuals view and utilise trees differently. An

article in the National Trust magazine, written by Watkins and entitled ‘Treasured

Treescapes’ (2011), similarly traces the value of trees in managed landscapes,

exploring the strong place forests hold in the ‘British psyche’ (2011: 32). To the

National Trust, which manages nearly 25,000 hectares of woodland (2011: 34), trees

are just as worthy of preservation as historic buildings, and the many notable trees

owned by them – described by Watkins (but notably not including any coin-trees, a

factor explored in Chapter 7) – play a prominent role in defining the identity and

work of the National Trust.

Rival’s collection of essays in The Social Life of Trees: Anthropological

Perspectives on Tree Symbolism (1998), explores similar themes, detailing the

symbolic significance of trees and woodlands, particularly as emblematic of

‘collective identity’ (1998: 1), in a variety of contemporary cultures. Rival observes

that while ‘much anthropological writing deals with animals, landscapes and

domesticated crop, very little concerns trees per se’ (1998: 1). She hopes to rectify

34

this. For example, exploring the wide curative properties attributed to trees (detailed

in Chapter 4), she notes that in the West this association has manifested itself in the

method of utilising trees to signify environmental health.

Environmental activist Zelter, a contributor to Rival’s collection (1998), suggests

that trees can be used to heal a society’s supposed spiritual ailments, employed as

symbols of harmony. She describes how trees are ritually planted in modern-day

Britain to express intense feelings, be they trauma, sadness, or joy, attesting that

trees are particularly suitable for such a ritual due to the continuity and stability they

represent (1998: 223). Several essays in Arnold and Grodzins Gold’s collection,

Sacred Landscapes and Cultural Politics: Planting a tree (2001), detail a similar tree

planting ceremony held at Syracuse University, New York State. Performed in

commemoration of the 35 students of Syracuse University who had lost their lives in

the terrorist attack at Lockerbie, Scotland, this ritual illustrated the memorialising

uses of the tree in Western society, an aspect considered in Chapter 6.

Some literature details the continuity of older traditions into modern-day society.

Hutton’s catalogue of the historical annual rituals of Britain in his publication,

Stations of the Sun (1996), offers several examples of tree-centred customs that can

be traced through history to the present day; Royal Oak Day, for example, which was

established in 1660, has retained some significance in local communities throughout

the country (1996: 291). Likewise in Castleton, in the Peak District, a pageantry

centred on a garland, a large wooden frame adorned with leaves and flowers, still

exists today; Hutton traces how its traditions have been misrepresented by folklorists

and the media alike over the years, and have been adapted to attract tourists (1996:

293), a factor explored in Chapter 6.

Box’s paper, ‘Dressing the Arbor Tree’ (2003), is even more valuable for an

exploration into how specific tree-rituals have been recontextualised over the years.

His study centres on the rituals surrounding the Arbor Tree, a black poplar growing

in Aston-on-Clun, Shropshire, which is decorated with flags every year on Royal

Oak Day. The bulk of Box’s article attempts to unravel the enigmatic origins of this

custom; he considers the relevance of the species of the tree; explores the

significance of its name; references personal correspondences with local residents;

and examines the (scarce and often biased) literary evidence. He then goes on to

35

trace how the ritual has been altered over the years, dependent upon the local

church’s shifting view of the custom, media coverage, and tourism.

5 – HISTORICAL COIN-TREES

As remarked upon in the Introduction, there has been no previous academic work

focused on the coin-trees of the British Isles. Indeed, there have been very few works

which reference the custom at all. Despite the numerous studies referenced above

offering a plethora of examples of both historical and contemporary ritual uses of

trees in the British Isles, only three (Hull 1928; Wilks 1972; Milner 1992, detailed

below) refer to the coin-tree custom. From the cross-cultural studies of Frazer

(1900), Porteous (1928), and Thiselton-Dyer (1889), to the catalogues of British

folkloric practices of Hardwick (1872) and Hole (1975), coin-trees have remained

notably absent. And where references to coin-trees do appear, they are often brief

and cursory; useful for initial research but certainly not offering in-depth analysis of

the custom.

Lucas’ 1963 paper ‘Sacred Trees of Ireland’ briefly mentions a tree-stump in Co.

Kerry embedded with coins (1963: 41), but further investigation revealed that this

stump is no longer there. As for those coin-trees still in existence, the general trend

dictates that the older the coin-tree, the more it is referenced in literature. The Isle

Maree coin-tree, Scotland (Fig. 6, Appendix 2.26), which was ritually employed in

the 19th

(and possibly 18th

) century, for example, is referenced in varying detail in a

range of early antiquarian works (Pennant 1775; Campbell 1860; Mitchell 1863;

Walker 1883; Dixon 1886; Godden 1893; Hartland 1893; Muddock 1898; Hull 1928;

McPherson 1929; Barnett 1930). Additionally, the coin-tree boasts a comment in

Queen Victoria’s diary, in an entry dated 17th

September 1877, detailing her visit to

Isle Maree and her insertion of a coin into the tree (Duff 1968: 332).

Later references to the Isle Maree coin-tree include: a description in Macrow’s travel

book Torridon Highlands (1953); an article and accompanying photograph in

National Geographic (MacLeish 1968); brief references in Bord and Bord’s Sacred

Waters (1985: 34-35; 99-100); a description and photograph in Coxe’s Haunted

Britain (1973: 167-168); a detailed empirical description in a North of Scotland

36

Archaeological Society survey (2002); and a comment in Van den Eynden’s ‘Plants

as Symbols in Scotland Today’ (2010).

All of these pieces, described in greater detail in Chapter 4, mention the coin-tree –

alternately described as a rag-tree or nail-tree – in their descriptions of the island’s

folkloric and ritual associations. Only Dixon (1886: 150-152) describes the tree in

any detail, while references in the other studies are largely incidental. However, even

the briefest of references are elucidating; Pennant’s cursory ‘[a] stump of a tree is

shewn as an altar’ (1775: 330), for example, may not provide a detailed description

but it does reveal that a tree was ritually employed on Isle Maree by 1775. Other

references, when traced chronologically, illustrate how this tree has been adapted

and recontextualised over the years, while various accompanying photographs, from

Godden’s 1893 article (Fig. 7) to Coxe’s 1973 Haunted Britain (Fig. 8), demonstrate

how the physical state of the tree has altered over time.

Other early coin-trees which are relatively well referenced (again, described in more

detail in Chapter 4) include the sites of: Clonenagh, the Republic of Ireland

(Appendix 2.15; Roe 1939; Wilks 1972; Harbison 1991; Milner 1992; Morton 1998;

Simon 2000); Fore, the Republic of Ireland (Appendix 2.20; Harbison 1991; Healy

2001; Rees 2003); and Ardboe, Northern Ireland (Appendix 2.8; Devlin 1948; Deane

1959; Grimes 1999; Grimes 2000; Simon 2000). As with the Isle Maree references,

the information provided by these sources tends to be limited – often a sentence or

two at most – but they provide adequate details for general chronologies of the coin-

trees to be compiled.

Notably, only one coin-tree is catalogued in Stokes and Rodger’s The Heritage Trees

of Britain and Northern Ireland (2004): the Ardmaddy coin-tree (Fig. 9, Appendix

2.9). In an entry repeated from Rodger et al.’s Heritage Trees of Scotland (2003), the

‘Wishing Tree’ of Ardmaddy enjoys a two-page spread, and is described as follows:

This lone, wind-blasted hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna) growing in the

wilds of Argyll is one of the few known ‘wishing trees’ in Scotland. It is

encrusted with coins that have been pressed into the thin bark by

generations of superstitious travellers over the centuries, each coin

representing a wish. Every available space on the main trunk bristles with

money, even the smaller branches and exposed roots. This magical tree

provides a living connection with the ancient folklore and customs of

Scotland… (2003: 25)

37

Despite its status as a ‘heritage tree’ of Britain and the claim that this custom has

been practiced at the Ardmaddy coin-tree ‘by generations…over the centuries’, only

one other source has been identified which references it. MacDonald’s 1983 hiker’s

guide, Walking in South Lorn, briefly describes the tree as a feature on the ‘Degnish

Peninsula’ route: ‘an incredibly gnarled and twisted hawthorn of considerable age,

the growth of which is said to have been irrevocably stunted by the traditional

custom of embedding votive coins in its venerable bark’ (1983: 9). Although this

description reveals that the custom of coin insertion was well-established by the

1980s, no other literary sources seem to reference it. Having been failed by the

literature, therefore, it was hoped that an excavation of the site would yield more

information (see Chapters 3 and 7, Appendix 5).

6 – CONTEMPORARY COIN-TREES

Although the above pieces of literature do refer to coin-trees, they refer to only one

each, and make no effort to catalogue other examples of coin-trees, draw

comparisons, or view the custom as a whole. The references are incidental; a brief

mention or cursory illustrative example, with no in-depth analysis. Additionally, they

are primarily concerned with historical coin-trees – those which boast a history of

more than 20 years – whilst the contemporary coin-trees, which (as outlined in the

Introduction) account for the majority (82%) of coin-trees catalogued, remain largely

ignored.

However, there are three bodies of literature which reference contemporary coin-

trees. The first will be classified as promotional literature: leaflets distributed at coin-

tree sites (e.g. Bolton Abbey), visitor websites (e.g. Bolton Abbey, Malham, Tarn

Hows, St. Nectan’s Glen, Portmeirion), and interpretation panels erected beside coin-

trees (e.g. Becky Falls, Ingleton), produced to inform visitors about the custom.

Again, however, the information provided in these pieces tends to be brief, offering

no greater detail than the coin-tree’s name (e.g. ‘Wishing Tree’) and the custodians’

vague interpretations of what the custom ‘means’. Additionally, their very nature as

38

promotional literature calls into question their accuracy – an interesting factor in

itself, explored in Chapter 6.

The second body of literature concerned with the contemporary coin-tree

congregates on the worldwide web. As explored in Chapter 3, the custom is well

represented on the Internet, in such forms as public forums, personal blogs, and

online articles. Some claim more authority than others; articles on Daily Mail Online

(Reynolds 2011) and the BBC News website (Anonymous 2011), for example,

attempt to trace the custom historically. However, rather than employing academic-

style research, their only sources tend to be the coin-tree custodians, who – due to

the promotional aspect of these articles – may not be wholly reliable.

Other Internet forums do not claim any authority on the subject. Personal blogs and

forum threads (series of posting on a single topic) centred on coin-trees, for example,

tend to be initiated by an individual who has come across a coin-tree and wishes to

either share photographs of it or request information about it. These entries are

followed by posts from readers who have come across coin-trees elsewhere. One

such entry, on the Sheffield Wildlife website, dated 2007, details the coin-trees found

at Padley, Malham, Dovedale, and Hardcastle Crags, while a subsequent post adds

the Aira Force coin-trees to the list.

A personal entry on the Wild About Britain website features an anonymous blog

member declaring that they had come across coin-trees in Dovedale and posing the

questions:

Were they:

a. some sort of National Trust woodland management practice?!

b. some sort of lottery funded art work?!

c. some sort of strange tradition whereby people take odd coins and a

hammer on their country walk?!

d. some sort of project to tease all the children who try (unsuccessfully) to

lever them out?!

Subsequent posts do not answer this question, but they do detail further coin-trees

that the posters have come across: near Rosemarkie on the Black Isle and at Bolton

Abbey. There is a similar entry on the same website concerning coin-trees along the

Ingleton Waterfalls Trail, while an entry on Treeblog (Anonymous 2008) details the

coin-tree found at Aira Force, and entries on Yorkshire Walks (Firth 2010) and Wigan

39

World (Anonymous 2011) feature photographs of the coin-tree at Tarn Hows. The

latter also offers a link to a video on YouTube showing a person hammering a coin

into the tree, complete with atmospheric music (Byrne 2011).

This is only a small sample of the forums, blogs, and online articles detailing coin-

trees, illustrating that the largest written resource for this custom is on the Internet.

While these pieces of literature may not claim to provide accurate information about

the coin-tree, nor in-depth analysis of the custom, they represent the only attempts

made to compile (albeit unofficial) catalogues of these structures. They have

consequently proved invaluable sources for the identification of coin-tree sites (see

Chapter 3). Additionally, these personal blogs and forum threads are not written

from the neutral perspective of an observing scholar, but from the viewpoint of

curious participants. The authors tend to be individuals who have inserted coins into

these structures themselves. These pieces of literature therefore represent a body of

ethnographic material to be drawn upon (Chapter 3), revealing how members of the

public variously interpret coin-trees.

The third body of literature consists of scholarly forums, such as newsletters. For

example, the contemporary resurgence in the custom of coin-trees was first brought

to the Folklore Society’s (FLS) attention in 2004, when Mavis Curtis (2004) reported

coin-trees at Bolton Abbey and Hardcastle Crags in the FLS newsletter. Following

this, it has been the subject of further queries and speculations in later editions of

FLS News (Pattern and Patten 2009; Billingsley 2010; Gould 2010; Shuel 2010).

Again, however, as with online sources, the information provided in these short

letters has tended to be casually inquisitive rather than academically investigative.

7 – THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK: ‘FOLKLORE ARCHAEOLOGIST’

The contrast between the various sources outlined thus far illuminates the inter-

disciplinary approach this project requires. Botanists have proven just as integral to

this research as folklorists, anthropologists, and archaeologists. 19th

-century

documents provided as much – if not more – useful information than the

contemporary literature. Casual ‘posters’ on local Internet blogs have exhibited more

knowledge about the custom of coin-trees than the seasoned academic. It will

40

undoubtedly prove necessary to, as Rackham advises, advocate the ‘simultaneous

use of as many lines of inquiry as possible’ (1976: 108). My methodological

approach and theoretical framework follow this advice.

In the label-loving realm of academia, how we choose to hallmark ourselves and our

areas of interest greatly colours how we are perceived by our peers. As fashionable

as the term ‘interdisciplinarity’ has become in scholarship, it is not enough to

classify ourselves as ‘disciplinarily neutral’ or as ‘academic nomads’. We are

expected to declare our loyalties and set up camp in one discipline or another.

However, I would not classify my research as simply ‘archaeology’ or as purely

‘folklore’, but as both. And if I had to label myself – which academic trend suggests

that I do – I would employ the term ‘folklore archaeologist’.

This is an innocuous enough pairing with a simple enough meaning: basically, I

study folkloric beliefs and customs through their material manifestations. Yet this

term has been met with more than a few blank looks and raised eyebrows, with

acquaintances both in and outside of academia querying bemusedly what such a

pairing actually means. What is a ‘folklore archaeologist’? Never having

encountered the two words in conjunction, people appear instantly distrustful of the

term, and yet such a pairing is far from unreasonable. While ‘folklore archaeology’

may not be an officially recognised title in academia, the two subjects have a long –

albeit far from steadfast – history of affiliation. It is the purpose of the remainder of

this chapter, therefore, to consider the term ‘folklore archaeology’ and to trace the

history of its pairing in the British Isles.

Over the last few years I have been advised by more than one colleague to avoid

using the word ‘folklore’. It appears to have become something of an academic

taboo, with certainly no reputable place in conference papers or funding applications.

Alternative terms are recommended instead, such as ‘ritual’, ‘popular beliefs’, or

‘oral tradition’. However, as ‘safer’ as these substitute phrases apparently are, none

of them successfully encapsulate the range of beliefs, customs, practices, and

material manifestations which are included in the broad term ‘folklore’; a term which

appears harmless enough. It is defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as the

‘traditional beliefs, legends, and customs, current among the common people; the

study of these’ (OED Online 2014); a definition which hardly justifies an academic

41

embargo of the word – unless the term ‘common people’ is viewed derogatively

rather than as simply referring to a relatively typical member of a given society.

Perhaps because of the anxiety surrounding the concept of ‘common people’, there is

an evident scholarly trend to give the term ‘folklore’ a wide berth, to the extent that

even contributors to the journal Folklore have avoided the word. Fenton (1993), for

example, preferred to use the term ‘ethnology’ in his 1993 article, while Nicolaisen

shied away from the word ‘folklore’ entirely, substituting instead ‘stories from the

folk-cultural register’ (1991). Organisations have likewise discarded the term; the

‘Survey of Language and Folklore’ founded at Sheffield in 1964, for example,

became the ‘Centre for English Cultural Tradition and Language’ in 1974 (Bennett

1996: 216).

In fact, an entire volume of The Journal of American Folklore, entitled ‘Folklore:

What’s in a Name?’ (1998), was dedicated to the debate over the continued use of

the word in American universities. While Oring argued against the elimination of the

term ‘folklore’ (1998), Bendix (1998) and Kirshenblatt-Gimblett (1998) averred that

it is inadequate nomenclature for such a diverse field, and proposed that an

alternative term be sought instead.

This aversion no doubt partially stems from the word’s ‘connotation of “Other”-

ness’, to use Bennett’s phrase (1996: 216). Bendix points out that ‘folklore’ was

once used to represent the vernacular, the oppressed, and the marginalised, thus

offending ‘the dignity of those with whom we consult’ (1998: 328). Indeed, the

‘folk’ have previously been perceived as the lower classes of society, defined by

Abrahams as a ‘homogenous group, usually pursuing an agrarian way of life’ (1978:

119); by Lang, as ‘the classes which have least been altered by education, which

have shared least in progress’ (1898: 11); by Benedict, as the ‘rural populations of

the civilized world’ (1932: 288); and by García Canclini, as ‘isolated and self-

sufficient indigenous or peasant groups whose simple techniques and little social

differentiation preserve them from modern threats’ (1995: 149-150).

Frazer’s use of the word ‘folklore’ is particularly demonstrative of its pejorative

connotations. For example, the primary aim of his work Folk-Lore in the Old

Testament (1923) is to trace the survivals of folklore – which he defines as ‘traces of

savagery and superstition’ (1923: xi) – evident in the Old Testament in order to

42

illustrate that the Hebrews had, like every other society, ‘evolved…by a slow process

of natural selection from an embryonic condition of ignorance and savagery’ (1923:

viii). In revealing that such traces of ‘savagery’ and ‘superstition’ existed in ancient

Israel, however, Frazer does not aim to debase the society, but to ‘enhance by

contrast the glory of a people which, from such dark depths of ignorance and cruelty,

could rise to such bright heights of wisdom and virtue’ (1923: xi). In Frazer’s

opinion, therefore, evidence of surviving folkloric beliefs and customs is tantamount

to proof that ancient Israel had evolved from the same ‘dark depths of ignorance and

cruelty’ as every other civilisation.

However, by examining the earliest definition of the term ‘folklore’, it appears that

no such pejorative connotations were originally intended. It was in 1846 when

William Thoms first coined the word ‘folklore’, suggesting it in a letter to The

Athenaeum as an alternative to ‘what we in England designate as Popular

Antiquities, or Popular Literature’; he recommended, instead, ‘a good Saxon

compound, Folklore, - the Lore of the People’ (1846: 862). ‘Folklore’ is, therefore,

simply the ‘Lore of the People’, and while some scholars had – and have – a narrow

view of who constitutes ‘the People’, it is certainly not the general consensus that the

possessors and purveyors of folklore belong only to the agrarian, ‘lower stratums’ of

society.

Dorson, for example, asserts that rurality is not a prerequisite of the ‘folk’ (1976:

46), and Dundes, reacting against the narrow definitions of previous folklorists,

proposes his own: ‘The term “folk” can refer to any group of people whatsoever who

share at least one common factor’ (1965: 2, emphases in original). According to

Dundes’ definition, it is only the sharing of one common factor, such as language,

occupation, and religion, that constitutes a group as ‘folk’, and any traditions they

transmit orally amongst themselves are subsequently considered ‘lore’ (Ben-Amos

1972: 8). The word ‘folklore’, therefore, does not deserve its negative reputation;

while there may have been examples of its use as a pejorative phrase in the past, it is

a simple composite term which can easily be returned to its original, inoffensive

definition: ‘the Lore of the People’.

The academic aversion to ‘folklore’, however, may have less to do with the term

itself and more to do with the subject matter (Wallis and Lymer 2001), which,

43

according to Harlow, still has a ‘connotation of triviality or quaintness’ (1998: 323).

Only a handful of universities in Britain provide courses in folklore, and the majority

of these are in Scotland and Ireland. The University of Aberdeen offers an MLitt in

‘Ethnology and Folklore’; the University of Glasgow, an MLitt in ‘Scottish Folklore

and Popular Culture’; University College Dublin, a BA in Irish Folklore; while

University College Cork houses a Department of Folklore.

To my knowledge, the only English university which offers a focus on folklore is the

University of Chichester, which accommodates the ‘Sussex Centre for Folklore,

Fairy Tales and Fantasy’. Indeed, a search for the word ‘folk’ on the Universities and

Colleges Admissions Service (UCAS) website proffers only four results, three of

which are courses on folk music. The fourth refers to an English Literature BA at the

University of Gloucestershire, for which the only connection to folklore is a module

in the first year entitled ‘Myth, Epic and Folktale’.

As Opie lamented in 1957, ‘England has the distinction of being so uninterested in

itself that it has not yet even one full-time professional folklorist’ (1957: 467); and

still today England boasts no professional body of folklorists, bar The Folklore

Society – which is run by volunteers. This is particularly remarkable considering that

England had been at the forefront of folklore collection in the 19th

century (Henkes

and Johnson 2002: 129; Dorson 1951, 1968, 1976).

8 – THE HISTORY OF BRITISH FOLKLORE STUDIES

A detailed history of the study of folklore is beyond the scope of this thesis (see

Dorson 1968 and Walsham 2008), but a brief overview reveals a period of vigorous

folklore collecting between 1870 and 1910. Preceding this trend were the works of

British antiquarians, ranging from William Camden’s Britannia, a historical survey

of Britain’s antiquities published in 1586, to Thomas Crofton Croker’s Fairy

Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland (1825). It was in the latter half of the

19th

century, however – following Thom’s coinage of the term – when folklore

reached the peak of its popularity, with the founding of the Folk-Lore Society in

1878. It was throughout the Victorian period when Dorson’s ‘Great Team of

Folklorists’ – Andrew Lang, George Laurence Gomme, Alfred Nutt, Edwin Sidney

44

Hartland, Edward Clodd, and William Alexander Clouston – were at their most

active (Dorson 1951; 1968: 202ff), collecting folklore and publishing numerous

books and papers (Dorson 1951: 1).

However, even during the Victorian period, folklore was not considered an academic

discipline. Dorson’s ‘Great Team of Folklorists’ were, without exception, private

scholars: lawyers, publishers, civil servants, and businessmen, with no university

affiliations (Dorson 1951; 1976). And during the early 20th

century, as scholarship

became more an academic profession than the pastime of Victorian amateurs, the

‘golden age’ of folklore reached its end. Unlike anthropology and archaeology,

folklore had not gained academic acceptance as a discipline with the rise of

universities, and it was either subsumed by other disciplines – history, literature,

anthropology – or discarded entirely (Dorson 1968). Today in England particularly

folklore is still considered, as Henkes and Johnson write, ‘extra-academic and

somewhat cut off from critical academic discussions’ (2002: 138).

Even scholars who would identify themselves as ‘folklorists’ do so rather gingerly,

demonstrating that the unease which surrounds the term comes from within the

discipline as well as without (Bennett 1996: 215-216). As Dorson observes, ‘the

folklorist as academic man speaks with a small voice’ (1976: 3); Oring takes this a

step further, opining that folklorists, whom he describes as ‘timid’ and ‘coward’,

seem to ‘operate with a deep sense of shame’ (1998: 336).

It is in response to this criticism, and to avoid circumlocution, that I choose to

unabashedly apply the word ‘folklore’ to my research. I am defining the term simply

as the traditional customs, beliefs, and legends, exclusive of orthodox religion and

ritual, transmitted orally by a people united by a common aspect – usually

geographic location, but language, occupation, and even shared hobbies can

constitute a group as ‘folk’. Inclusive of my definition are also the material

manifestations of folklore: the artefacts and monuments which testify to the

traditional beliefs and practices that motivated their creation and/or employment.

In my opinion, no other term successfully encapsulates this broad subject area, nor

attests to its rich heritage in Britain; and as Gell has asserted, it is sometimes

preferable to explain a contested term rather than to rechristen it (1998: 96).

Additionally, I believe many of the claims against ‘folklore’ to be unfounded. For

45

instance, the assertion that the word ‘folklore’, coined in 1846, is too archaic for use

is groundless when it is considered that ‘archaeology’ was in modern usage in the

1600s (Daniel 1981: 13-14; OED Online 2014). The word ‘archaeology’, despite

boasting four centuries of scholarly employment, is not considered too archaic for

use; neither, therefore, should ‘folklore’.

While it may be viewed as derogatory by some (see Frazer above), a word can be

made to shed its pejorative connotations if enough scholars are willing to use it,

reverting it to its simpler, more neutral origins. Additionally, relinquishing the name,

as proposed by Fenton (1993), Bendix (1998), and Kirshenblatt-Gimblett (1998),

would, in my opinion, not benefit the discipline, but cause a loss of identity and

ultimately ensure its demise, following full absorption into other disciplines. I am in

full agreement with folklorist Oring when he declares: ‘I am content to live a

marginal scholarly existence. But I will not be happy to exchange marginality for

termination’ (1998: 335).

9 – ARCHAEOLOGY AND FOLKLORE: A BRIEF HISTORY

The history of the relationship between archaeology and folklore, which has been

extensively considered by Gazin-Schwartz (see below), is probably little different to

the story of many marriages. They began as an inseparable pair. The pre-Victorian

antiquarians rarely distinguished between the collecting of material relics and the

recording of ancient practices and beliefs. However, by the mid-19th

century, they

both made their move away from antiquarianism – and from each other, with

archaeology and folklore beginning to view themselves as separate and distinct

professional fields (Gazin-Schwartz 1999: 21). This academic divorce, however,

does not appear to have been entirely mutual, for it was the archaeologists who first

distanced themselves from folklore. Something better had come along: science.

Scientific techniques and empirical practices were embraced by the discipline.

England’s first serious excavations began in the late 18th

and early 19th

centuries, led

by men such as Bryan Faussett, James Douglas, William Cunnington, and Richard

Colt Hoare (Daniel 1981: 55), and complemented by a growing awareness of

geological context and strata (Daniel 1981: 50). The 19th

century, therefore, saw the

46

emergence of the newly-styled archaeologists, who sought to dissociate themselves

from folkloric studies most likely because – unlike archaeology, and as outlined

above – it had not received academic acceptance (Michell 1982: 24; Gazin-Schwartz

and Holtorf 1999: 9). Additionally, as is argued by Gazin-Schwartz, archaeologists

rejected folklore, viewing its value with scepticism because of its questionable

authenticity and accuracy; often finding that folk tradition and material remains did

not correlate, they opted to dismiss the former as inauthentic (Gazin-Schwartz 1999:

34-36; Gazin-Schwartz and Holtorf 1999: 5).

Folklore was slightly less dismissive of archaeology, but from the outset of its

development as a separate field in the 19th

century, it was clear that material culture

was not considered central to the study of folklore. Tellingly, in its first publication

in 1878, the Folk-Lore Society defined its objectives as ‘the preservation and

publication of Popular Traditions, Legendary Ballads, Local Proverbial Sayings,

Superstitions, and Old Customs’ (Folklore Society 1878, cited in Gazin-Schwartz

1999: 22), with no reference at all to material culture. And by the mid-20th

century,

folklorists had become more concerned with the collection and preservation of oral

traditions (Opie 1957; O’Sullivan 1957; Sanderson 1957; Ó Giolláin 2000) than with

the study of artefacts.

Following this divergence was over a century of largely indifferent co-existence, the

two disciplines occasionally acknowledging each other but rarely touching. By the

end of the 20th

century, folklore’s relegation to the fringe of academia was

compelling many archaeologists, anxious about their professional legitimacy, to give

the subject area a wide berth. As archaeologist Gazin-Schwartz asks in her doctoral

thesis on Constructing Ancestors: Archaeology and Folklore in Scotland: ‘If we dare

to talk about folklore, to tell stories about our sites, will anyone take us seriously? Or

will we be relegated to the wacky fringe of druid-seekers?’ (1999: 36). Today, this

marginalisation of folklore within academia has resulted in a general ignorance about

the subject. Archaeologists who may otherwise have been willing – even eager – to

study folklore are probably unaware of its potential simply because it rarely features

in their educations.

However, there have been a number of individuals who have attempted to reunite

archaeology and folklore in their research on the British Isles, some more

47

successfully than others. The next part of this chapter is a consideration of these

scholars and their various methodologies, separated into two main sections: the

folklore of archaeology and the archaeology of folklore.

10 – THE FOLKLORE OF ARCHAEOLOGY

For much of the 20th

century, studies of the relationship between archaeology and

folklore in Britain have taken one main form: the collection of folklore concerning

archaeological sites, usually compiled by folklorists with an interest in archaeology

(Gazin-Schwartz 1999: 27). The general consensus amongst these scholars was that

folklore constituted the remnants – the ‘survivals’ – of prehistoric beliefs and rituals;

thus folklore was utilised as a resource to contextualise the material evidence, most

often prehistoric monuments.

Walter Johnson was one of Britain’s first folklorists to apply this theory to the

archaeological record in 1908. In his book, Folk-Memory; or the Continuity of

British Archaeology (1908), he traces folkloric associations and uses of megaliths

back chronologically in order to contextualise them: ‘Let us go back and pick up the

threads of superstition’ (1908: 174), he proposes, looking, for example, at the

healing powers attributed to prehistoric holed stones. He is not, however, under any

illusion of direct continuity; while he writes of the endurance of veneration at certain

megaliths, from prehistory to the 19th

century, he warns the reader that most

traditions will have been ‘grossly perverted’ (1908: 132), stating that any ‘folk-

memory’ must be ‘scrupulously tested’ (1908: 319).

Similar methodologies are employed by later scholars, who draw on folklore as a

contextualising resource for the understanding of prehistoric monuments, from

Stonehenge (Fleure 1948) to the many megalithic stones believed to be ‘countless’

(Menefee 1975) or to have been formed through the petrification of sinners (Menefee

1974). Likewise, Bord and Bord, writing in the 1970s, refer to ‘race-memory’ as the

‘only real illumination’ onto the significance of the prehistoric sites of the British

Isles: standing stones, henges, hill-forts, and burial mounds (1976).

In most cases, a degree of scepticism is maintained concerning the continuity of

these folk traditions; they are not presented as unaltered survivals from prehistory

48

but as distorted remnants which, if very carefully interpreted, may yield some truth

over the monuments’ original purposes. As Bord and Bord maintain, the details of a

tradition will undoubtedly have changed over the centuries, but traditions reflect

attitudes, and attitudes are more likely to have been consistently inherited: a site is

considered sacred today because it was considered sacred 3000 years ago (1976: 1-

2). Not all scholars, however, accepted these theories of long-term unbroken

continuity; Grinsell (1976a; 1976b), for example, was a little more sceptical.

Grinsell is probably the most widely known scholar of the folklore of British

prehistoric sites; in reference to Stonehenge and the barrows of Wiltshire, he is cited

by Chippindale (1983 [1994]: 45n) and Bender (1998: 137), described by Darvill as

the producer of what is still considered ‘the definitive listing’ (2006: 15), and

portrayed by Burl as the ‘doyen of barrow-seekers’ (1987: 118). Unlike the majority

of scholars considered in this section, however, Grinsell classifies himself as an

archaeologist rather than as a folklorist, and it is probably the perceived negative

connotations of folklore, as explored above, which leads Grinsell to state in the

preface to Folklore of Prehistoric Sites in Britain that he is ‘primarily an

archaeologist, for whom folklore has never been more than a sideline’ (1976a: 9).

However, it is probably also his archaeological background that made him more

wary of drawing on the oral traditions associated with prehistoric sites in order to

contextualise them. Although he offers little in the way of interpretation – the

majority of Folklore of Prehistoric Sites in Britain (1976a), for example, is a simple

county-by-county catalogue of prehistoric sites with folkloric associations – he does

acknowledge that many associated traditions are far more recent in origin than they

seem, and he is discerning in his distinction between the older remnants (folklore)

and the more recent traditions (‘fakelore’).

The trend more recently has been to draw on the folklore of prehistoric sites not to

attempt to shed light on their origins, but to ascertain how a monument has been

perceived and utilised throughout history, including its current employment by local

communities. Voss (1987), for example, acknowledging that contemporary uses and

interpretations of monuments differ greatly from their original purposes, focuses on

how prehistoric structures serve as focal points within communities, making obvious

reference to Stonehenge. In Voss’s opinion, archaeology and folklore are two

49

distinct, opposing forces; folklore surrounds a prehistoric site despite – and often in

contradiction to – the archaeological evidence, and while archaeology can provide

factual history, folklore offers what Voss terms ‘metaphorical history’ (1987: 81).

Murphy (1999), in her research on the Neolithic dolmen of Pentre Ifan, Wales,

considers how the folkloric traditions associated with the site have coloured

contemporary perceptions of it, influencing how people – including scholars – view

it. Likewise, Champion and Cooney (1999), researching Irish prehistoric and early

historic monuments, such as the complex of cairns at Loughcrew, Co. Meath, and the

portal tomb at Cleenrah, Co. Longford, ask how the ‘meaning’ of monuments shift

over time. They also consider how the presentations of such monuments to the

public are inherently tied in with the folkloric traditions associated with them. Wallis

and Blain (2003), citing examples such as Stonehenge and Avebury, the stone circles

at Froggatt Edge, and the Nine Ladies on Stanton Moor, are equally concerned with

how the contemporary public draw on the traditional folklore of a prehistoric site in

their perceptions and uses of it – and, in some cases, employ the folklore to influence

heritage site management.

Gazin-Schwartz is probably the most significant archaeologist to consider folklore’s

potential in contributing to an understanding of landscapes, monuments, and

artefacts. In her doctoral thesis (1999), in which she focuses her attention on the

folkloric associations of monuments and the ritual purposes of everyday items on the

island of Raasay, Scotland, she notes the prominent role played by folklore in the

social construction of landscapes, concluding that folkloric customs and beliefs must

be considered by any scholar wishing to adequately contextualise the history of a

landscape.

Gazin-Schwartz, however, does not aim to correlate folklore with the archaeological

record. She does not argue for long-term continuity of folk practices and beliefs, as,

for example, Bord and Bord do (1978), but instead examines the ways in which

traditional histories are formed and adapted through local folklore. While she

stresses that folklore does not provide factual information, she does aver – rightfully,

in my opinion – that it offers different ways of thinking, asserting that it prompts

new and important questions; ‘gives access to many layers of meaning’ (1999: 51);

and provides the opportunity to ‘gain personal connections to the past’ (1999: 182).

50

In an edited volume published in the same year, Gazin-Schwartz and Holtorf present

a variety of papers which demonstrate the benefits of fostering an interdisciplinary

dialogue between archaeology and folklore, which they perceive as ‘two of the many

lenses through which the past is given meaning’ (1999: 3). As Layton, a contributor

to the volume, stresses, such a dialogue is between two different systems of

meaning; archaeology and folklore are not partial fragments of the same whole,

correlated and combined to reveal a full picture. They are two different modes of

representing the past, often providing contradictory accounts of events, landscapes,

and artefacts (1999: 31).

I specified in my definition of ‘folklore’ (see above) that customs, beliefs, and

legends are considered ‘folklore’ when they are transmitted orally, and it is the

nature of oral traditions to be subjective and contradictory, as Vansina explores in

detail (1985).1 While Vansina notes the limitations of oral traditions as reliable

evidence, he asserts that careful analysis of such testimonies can provide accurate

information about the past. His advocation of the uses of oral traditions does not

coincide with Layton’s – or my own – theories regarding how oral folk traditions

should be interpreted and employed. Vansina believes that by adopting a systematic

and critical approach to oral traditions, a historian could deduce which points are

factual and which others are less so. This theory, however, may apply more readily

to the Central African empirical base of Vansina’s research, which likely has more

historical validity than the folklore of Britain’s prehistoric monuments.

Unlike the folklorists of these prehistoric monuments, however, Vansina does not

believe that the intangible evidence of the oral traditions should complement the

tangible evidence (in his case, written historical sources), but that they are

testimonies in and of themselves, not to be utilised simply as sources for the past, but

as accounts of how people have variously interpreted the past (1985: 195). Likewise,

an archaeologist’s employment of folklore should not be to seek factual answers

which supplement the material evidence, but to aid in an understanding of the

malleability of monuments and landscapes, and the multiplicity of meanings

1 Granted, oral traditions do not necessarily constitute folklore, but Vansina’s definition of them –

‘verbal messages which are reported statements from the past beyond the present generation’ (1985:

27) – could certainly encompass folklore; he does, for example, include epics, tales, and proverbs

amongst his examples. His consideration of the reliability and subjectivity of oral traditions, therefore,

easily applies also to folklore.

51

attributed to them. Folklore is not meant to be taken literally; it is primarily

symbolic, and therefore should not be resorted to in the search for facts, but in the

search for meaning.

11 – THE ARCHAEOLOGY OF FOLKLORE

Another main form taken by studies utilising both folklore and archaeology is the

analysis of the material manifestations of folk customs. In 1951, Clark contended

that archaeologists would profit by including folklore in their lines of enquiry,

asserting that the ‘most obvious way in which a study of Folk-Culture can help

prehistorians is by interpreting objects otherwise enigmatic’ (1951: 58); obscure

material evidence can be elucidated through reference to folk customs and beliefs.

This approach can be found in numerous journal and magazine articles from the mid-

20th

century to the present day, focusing on the material manifestations of folkloric

customs, which I have previously included in my definition of ‘folklore’. Examples

include foundation sacrifices (Ó Súilleabháin 1945); ritual markings on domestic

timber (Easton 1999); witch-bottles (Merrifield 1954); ‘thunderstones’ and ‘thunder-

axes’ (Penney 1976); and concealed garments (Swann 1996; Eastop 2006; Evans

2010), to name only some.

It was Merrifield, however, whose book The Archaeology of Ritual and Magic

(1987) was the first full-length volume devoted to the materiality of British folkloric

customs. Attesting that, as ritual and magic were often aspects of everyday life, they

should leave as many traces in the archaeological record as any basic human activity,

Merrifield seeks to identify and catalogue them (1987: 1). Covering a wide

chronological period from the pre-Roman Iron Age to the 20th

century, with a

geographic focus on Europe – most prominently south-eastern England – he

reconstructs ritual activity, such as the deposition of witch-bottles and mummified

cats, from the archaeological evidence, supplementing it wherever possible with

written sources.

However, Merrifield’s work has been subject to scholarly criticism, with Lloyd et al.

(2001: 58), for example, arguing that while Merrifield offers a valuable catalogue,

his purported lack of interpretation debilitates the readers’ understanding of the

52

significance of the material record. I do not fully concur with this criticism. While

Merrifield’s work is primarily a catalogue, he both contextualises the archaeological

evidence, considering the physical attributes and symbolic associations of folkloric

artefacts, and interprets the material record convincingly to reconstruct the ritual

activities which (probably) led to the artefacts’ depositions.

Merrifield’s interpretation of the concealed shoe, for example, takes into

consideration their liminal locations, physical conditions, wide geographic

distribution, folkloric connotations, and intimate associations with their previous

wearers in his attempt to contextualise the artefacts and reconstruct the activities and

beliefs which led to their deposition (1987: 133-135), an approach I adopted in my

work on concealed shoes (Houlbrook 2013a).

In other scholarship on the subject, folklore is not employed to elucidate the

archaeological evidence, but vice versa. For the majority of British folkloric

customs, there are few – if any – relevant contemporaneous literary sources; the

material evidence is thus the only surviving contextualising resource for the custom.

Howard (1951), for example, focuses her attention on the deposition of mummified

cats within the walls of domestic buildings, pre-empting Merrifield by utilising the

archaeological evidence – the liminality of their locations; their arrangements; and

the level of effort involved in deposition – to determine the possible reasons behind

deposition. In her careful analysis, she resists over-interpreting the material

evidence, concluding that the majority of the cats were probably employed as

vermin-scares or were accidentally enclosed. She does, however, make a convincing

argument for some of her case-studies having been deposited as foundation

sacrifices.

Two contributors to Wallis and Lymer’s A Permeability of Boundaries? New

Approaches to the Archaeology of Art, Religion and Folklore (2001) – a collection

of papers written in response to the ‘barrier of snobbery’ encountered by

archaeologists studying the ‘fringe’ subjects of art, religion, and folklore (Wallis and

Lymer 2001: xv) – employ a similar methodology as Howard. Eastop (2001), one of

these contributors, utilises the material evidence in her attempt to interpret the wide

range of garments discovered within the walls and roof-spaces of domestic buildings,

53

interpreting the garments themselves – their type, conditions, locations, etc. – in

order to shed light on the custom of concealment.

Similarly, Lloyd et al. (2001), also contributors to Wallis and Lymer’s volume, have

only a few vague literary references to the apotropaic powers of candles to

contextualise the flame-shaped burn marks found on late-medieval/early-modern

domestic timber. They thus employ the material evidence of the burn marks

themselves in order to ‘decode’ the custom. Employing experimental archaeology in

order to determine how the burn marks were produced, they ascertain what materials

and conditions would have been required to produce such marks and convincingly

conclude that they were apotropaic in function. Their study demonstrates the

successful application of archaeology to the interpretation of enigmatic – and often

ignored – material evidence.

Hoggard (2004) likewise utilises the material evidence of his broad survey of

apotropaic devices – witch-bottles, horse skulls, dried cats, shoes, and so on, which

are all material manifestations of folkloric practices and beliefs – in order to argue

that the employment of counter-witchcraft practices far antedated the witch-trials,

and that the decline in the fear of magic during the early modern period was slow

and prolonged. This is a theory which the biased written sources, penned as they

primarily were by the literate minority, does not attest to, demonstrating how

invaluable the archaeological evidence is in contextualising such customs.

However, as invaluable as the material evidence undoubtedly is in elucidating

folkloric customs, especially where literary sources are absent, there is a risk of over-

interpretation. In less scholarly pieces, archaeological finds have been appropriated

to substantiate sensationalist claims. In 2008, for example, the remains of birds and

eggs discovered in a pit in Cornwall were presented as evidence of 17th

-century

witchcraft (Ravilious 2008), while in 2011, the discovery of a mummified cat in the

ruins of a 17th

-century cottage in Pendle, Lancashire, was the only evidence cited in

the proposal that the cottage had housed one of the Pendle witches (Anonymous

2011).

Although non-academics, as above, are often more likely to over-interpret the

evidence, academic scholars can be equally guilty of this. Insoll notes that ‘the

interpretation of archaeological material is taken to sometimes far-fetched extremes’

54

(2004: 53), and Brück (2007) warns that ritual interpretations run the risk of

constituting misinterpretations. Concealed garments, for example, are often

presented as material evidence of folkloric practices, but in some cases it is clear that

accidental loss is as likely an explanation as ritual deposition. Items such as caps,

shirts, doublets, and trousers discovered within the roof-spaces, walls, and beneath

the floors of buildings may indeed be evidence of foundation sacrifices or

apotropaism, but more secular explanations should also be considered.

For example, in her analysis of a cache of concealed garments – consisting of a

child’s doublet and cap, an 18th

-century pocket, five coins, a trade token, and some

document fragments – in Abingdon, Oxfordshire, Eastop (discussed above) focuses

on the child’s doublet and cap in order to speculate that the cache was concealed to

protect the household against infant deaths or to promote fertility (2001: 80). She

pays little attention to the less symbolically-charged items – the trade token and the

document fragments – the presence of which suggests that this cache may have been

concealed for more secular purposes; possibly as memorials or to ensure the

artefacts’ longevity.

Likewise, Evans, in his doctoral thesis on concealed garments in Australia, lists a

straw hat, convict shirts, and a sailor’s cap – all discovered in a variety of domestic

and public buildings – as garments which were deliberately concealed for probable

folkloric purposes (2010: 172). As with Eastop’s cache, however, numerous other

reasons could have motivated the concealment of these garments: memory, safe-

keeping, or accidental losses. The discovery of two convict shirts in a prison, for

example, is not necessarily evidence of folkloric practice.

Gazin-Schwartz warns of such over-interpretation by way of a personal anecdote in

her doctoral thesis (1999). She recounts how, upon discovering a horseshoe inserted

into the wall of a ruined 19th

-century croft house in Skye, she immediately assumed

folkloric motivations for its deposition, noting both its liminal location and the

horseshoe’s history as a protective amulet. However, it was later explained to her

that horseshoes were commonly placed within the walls for the utilitarian purpose of

supporting the timber posts (1999: 58). In her opinion, however, the risk of over-

interpretation does not outweigh the benefits of fostering a dialogue between

archaeology and folklore – so long as folklore is not perceived as factual truth, but as

55

a source which must be carefully interpreted and considered in context. As she wryly

notes: ‘Archaeologists, of course, should not have to be told to consider context!’

(1999: 36).

In a later article, Gazin-Schwartz (2001) also warns against dichotomising ritual and

utilitarian material culture, advocating that archaeologists should consider folklore as

a phenomenon which pervaded everyday life. She proposes instead a continuum-

based model which challenges the assumption that the anomalous and mysterious

archaeological find should be attributed to ritual. Her proposed model allows the

archaeologist to view folklore and ‘household ritual’ (2001: 268) as part of everyday

life, performed by people who did not adhere to the same ritual/utilitarian distinction

as modern-day archaeologists. As she concludes: ‘Folklore offers archaeologists a

means to recognize the ways in which practical and spiritual aspects of daily life are

integrated through material culture’ (2001: 278).

12 – CONCLUSION

While it has been over a century since folklore and archaeology were conceived as

going hand-in-hand, it is clear that their mid-19th

-century divorce was far from final.

Although only some folklorists choose to draw on the archaeological record in their

research, and only a handful of archaeologists utilise folklore as a resource, there

have been enough on either side to maintain a link between the two disciplines over

the years. That link has evidently been growing stronger since the turn of the

millennium, with the seminal work of Gazin-Schwartz (1999; 2001; 2011) drawing

scholars’ attention to the advantageous pairing.

In 2011, this pairing was re-ignited with the introduction of UCL’s Institute of

Archaeology’s ‘Popular Antiquities: Folklore and Archaeology’ conference,

subsequent sessions (2012 and 2013) co-organised by The Folklore Society. The two

original organisers were postgraduate students Tina Paphitis and Martin Locker of

UCL, and as Paphitis explains, they decided to set up the conference simply because

of their ‘interest in folklore and archaeology; there was no other forum for us to

explore the subject with others, so we decided to make one ourselves’ (pers. comm.

11/03/2013).

56

In 2011, 2012, and 2013 scholars from across Europe have delivered papers at this

conference, clearly demonstrating the widely-felt benefits of utilising both resources

in scholarly research and in fostering a dialogue between the two disciplines – a

dialogue which has been re-ignited simply through the academic interests of a

handful of individuals. I aim to be one such individual.

Clearly the two disciplines have not always been paired successfully. The naïve

assumption that folklore represents survivals of unbroken traditions since prehistory

characterises much of the earlier scholarship concerned with the folklore of

archaeology – and has obviously done little to repair folklore’s tarnished reputation

as a valuable resource. The scholarly trend, however, has moved away from

employing folklore to elucidate much earlier practices and beliefs. It has also

recently progressed from the simple objective of composing catalogues of sites and

artefacts with folkloric associations, with various theoretical papers included in the

volumes of Gazin-Schwartz and Holtorf (1999) and Wallis and Lymer (2001), which

foster collaboration between archaeology and folklore in order to develop new

interpretive perspectives.

My own research into the custom of the contemporary coin-tree will hopefully

contribute to the fostering of a dialogue between the two disciplines. However, the

contemporaneity of my case-studies necessitates a different set of questions than

those faced by previous archaeologists of folklore. In the past, for example, efforts to

correlate the folkloric evidence with the archaeological record have been misguided

due to the often significant lengths of time separating the two: early modern folkloric

beliefs and customs are not unaltered reproductions of prehistoric beliefs and

customs.

For the contemporary coin-tree, however, the folklore and the archaeology can be

considered in unison, for the material evidence of the folkloric custom – i.e. the coin-

tree – and the testimony of the participating ‘folk’ are both current, and an

examination of both has emphasised the value of employing archaeological methods

and folkloric sources simultaneously. The material evidence of the coin-trees

themselves illustrates how the custom has adapted over time, whilst the testimony of

the participating ‘folk’ elucidates what the custom ‘means’ today. The two methods

of enquiry evidently complement each other and are, together, well-equipped to

57

tackle a subject which has previously been neglected, for despite the proliferation of

sources cited in this review, the contemporary coin-tree represents a rather large gap

in scholarship.

While numerous works – both archaeological and folkloric – detail the ritual uses of

trees in the British Isles, very few have concerned themselves with contemporary

examples, and still fewer have focused specifically on coin-trees. As of yet, there has

been no comprehensive catalogue compiled of coin-trees, let alone any systematic

academic work offering examination or analysis of this modern-day custom. And

while there are, admittedly, enough snippets of information circulating both the

Internet and relatively recent publications to be assured that the custom of the coin-

tree is on people’s radar, it has not yet been subject to archaeological analysis or

ethnographic investigation, and it has certainly not found itself the central focus of a

multi-disciplinary study.

By offering such a study, it is hoped that this thesis will rectify an obvious academic

oversight, in drawing attention both to the benefits of collaboration between

archaeology and folklore, and to the paucity of studies that focus on contemporary

rituals and folk-customs in the British Isles.

58

CHAPTER 3: METHODOLOGY

1 – TERMINOLOGY

The definition of what constitutes a ‘coin-tree’ is simple: any wooden structure – a

living tree, log, stump, or wooden post – located outside, into the surface of which

coins have been inserted. In some cases (for example, the replacement votive trees at

Fore, the Clonfert tree, and the Glastonbury Thorn), deposits attached to their barks

and branches are widely varied, from rags and jewellery to dolls and toothbrushes,

and coins are in the minority. These trees are not classified as coin-trees, but are still

considered in this thesis for comparative purposes. For a votive tree to constitute a

coin-tree, therefore, its offerings must be primarily (although not exclusively) coins.

A term frequently used throughout this thesis is ‘coining’. This is a double entendre,

referring both to the noun ‘coin’, defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as a

‘piece of money’, and to the verb ‘coin’, defined as ‘[t]o make, devise, produce’

(OED Online, 2014). The ‘coining’ of a coin-tree, therefore, refers to the initial act

of inserting the first coin into a tree, thus creating a coin-tree. The coining date of a

coin-tree is subsequently the date a tree first began to be employed as a coin-tree.

Throughout this thesis, coin-trees are referred to as ‘active’ or ‘dormant’; these terms

refer to the level of activity surrounding them. An active site is one which contains

coin-trees still currently being embedded with coins. A dormant site is one which

initially contained a coin-tree which has since been destroyed or removed, and no

other tree has yet been adopted as a replacement. I also use the term ‘coin fossil’,

which designates the impression left by a coin in the wood of a tree.

2 – IDENTIFICATION AND CATALOGUING

As no previous catalogues of coin-trees have been compiled, my initial task was the

identification of coin-tree sites. The starting point for this was personal experience;

having visited Bolton Abbey, Yorkshire, and Dovedale, Derbyshire, on family

excursions, I was already aware of the coin-trees at these sites (Appendices 2.12 &

2.18) – and under the erroneous impression that this custom was confined to the

59

northern counties of England. However, initial research revealed that there was a far

greater quantity of coin-tree sites than I originally thought, and that they are widely

dispersed throughout the British Isles.

At this stage, online resources were invaluable. Inputting the terms ‘coin tree’,

‘money tree’, and ‘penny tree’ into search engines proffered a myriad of online

articles, personal blogs, discussion forums, and image-hosting websites, all referring

to – and many curiously querying – the custom of inserting coins into trees. Utilising

data collected from these online resources, the locations of numerous coin-trees were

established.

Other sites were identified through correspondence with acquaintances: relatives,

friends, and colleagues who had encountered coin-trees. The Lydford Gorge coin-

trees (Appendix 2.29), for example, were brought to my attention by my academic

supervisor, Prof. Tim Insoll, having come across them whilst on holiday, and I was

informed of the Portmeirion coin-tree cluster (Appendix 2.33) by a fellow guest at a

wedding.

A larger number of sites, however, were brought to my attention by members of the

public at other coin-tree sites; one question posed to my interview participants was,

‘Are you aware of any other coin-trees?’ Whilst interviewing a woman at Bolton

Abbey, for example, her young daughter recalled seeing a coin-tree at Brock Bottom,

Lancashire; whilst at Dovedale, a man informed me of a similar custom manifesting

itself near the summit of Snowdon.

More data was collected through direct correspondence with park rangers and

wardens, heritage officers, and archaeologists. In March 2012, a query was placed on

the National Trust email forum, Countryside Chat (courtesy of Simon Nicholas,

National Trust Warden, Dovedale), requesting that any rangers with information

concerning coin-trees contact me; I received 17 replies. In May 2012, another

request was placed in the Institute for Archaeologists bulletin, and more responses

were received, informing me of further coin-tree sites. As I began to disseminate my

research, by giving papers at conferences for example, my network of informants

grew and I received numerous emails from scholars and independent researchers

countrywide, notifying me of other coin-trees.

60

The coin-tree catalogue currently stands at 34 sites across the British Isles (Appendix

1.2, Map 1). Of these sites, 31 are active; their coin-trees are still currently being

coined. Two sites, Ardboe, Co. Tyrone (Appendix 2.8), and Freeholders Wood,

Yorkshire, are considered dormant for the coin-trees once inhabiting the sites have

been removed and no structures have, as of yet, been adopted as replacements.

Additionally, Fore, Co. Westmeath (Appendix 2.20) is not considered an active coin-

tree site because the original coin-tree has been removed and its replacements are

rag-trees rather than coin-trees, due to coins constituting only a minority of the

deposits.

The catalogue does not claim to be complete. Its compilation has been an ongoing

project and it is likely that there are other sites which remain unrecorded or were

identified too late. Time and funding restraints necessitated a cut-off point; I was

unable to conduct fieldwork at any coin-tree sites which were brought to my

attention after January 2013, and thus they are not included in this catalogue. I shall,

however, continue to update a separate catalogue, appending new records and

maintaining what will undoubtedly prove to be a growing compendium. As long as

new coin-trees continue to be coined, the catalogue can never claim to be complete.

In order to contextualise the catalogued 34 coin-tree sites, various sources were

utilised. A small number of publications provided information of varying detail and

accuracy regarding individual coin-trees, occasionally proffering an invaluable

photograph or a specific date (see Chapter 2). Direct correspondence with the

custodians of the coin-trees, however, proved far more fruitful. Every ranger,

warden, tourist manager, heritage officer, and private land-owner I came into contact

with (38 in total) was sent a basic questionnaire, requesting information concerning

the coin-trees in their care: exact locations, histories, and current conditions. I

received 20 responses and, through their answers, I was often able to establish

relatively accurate coining dates for the trees, as well as to attain an insight into how

these structures are perceived, presented, and managed by their custodians.

The primary method of data collection, however, was the undertaking of fieldwork at

each of the 33 coin-tree sites (no fieldwork was conducted at Freeholders Wood,

Yorkshire, as no remains of the coin-tree have been preserved at the site and no

61

replacement tree has been adopted). This fieldwork had two main objectives: the

gathering of empirical data and the collection of ethnographic evidence.

3 – THE EMPIRICAL DATA: LOCATING THE COIN-TREES

The empirical data is proffered by the physical structures of the coin-trees

themselves. Having acquired permission from the coin-tree custodians, fieldwork

was undertaken at each site to gather this data. This fieldwork was non-intrusive.

The structures could not be compromised, which meant that neither wood nor coins

could be removed; I could not, for example, return to university with a sample for

later analysis. Additionally, in many cases, time and funding restraints prevented

multiple trips to a site; all of the empirical data required, therefore, needed to be

collected on-site and often in the space of one or two days.

With a few exceptions – such as at Brock Bottom, Lancashire; Marbury, Cheshire;

and Isle Maree, Wester Ross, where I was accompanied to the coin-trees by rangers

– my initial task at each site was to locate the structures. The primary coin-trees were

often easily found. In most cases, I was armed with a map or description of their

locations from their custodians; in other cases, they were positioned along an area’s

main footpath and difficult to overlook.

Once at the primary coin-tree, the next task was to establish their distribution. In all

but nine active coin-tree sites (the exceptions being Leigh Woods, Bristol; Corfe

Castle, Dorset; Loxley, Yorkshire; Claife Station, Cumbria; Brock Bottom,

Lancashire; Arnside Knott, Lancashire; Cragside, Northumberland; Ardmaddy,

Argyll; and Clonenagh, Co. Laois), the primary coin-trees were accompanied by

others, their numbers ranging from one more (at Marbury, Cheshire; and Snowdon,

Gwynedd) to 28 more (Ingleton, Yorkshire) (Appendix 2.1). Throughout this thesis,

the 34 coin-tree sites are referred to by their locations. For example, the coin-trees at

Aira Force, Cumbria, are identified as the Aira Force coin-trees. In the catalogue,

their labels are often abbreviated (Aira Force = AF) (Appendix 2.1), and a number is

assigned to each individual coin-tree.

It cannot be claimed that the quantities of coin-trees at each site are unequivocally

accurate. In less wooded environments, such as at Arnside Knott, Ardmaddy, and

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Clonenagh, establishing the number of coin-trees was a simple task. However, the

majority of sites are densely forested, and close scrutiny of every tree within a wide

area surrounding the coin-trees would have proven an impractical endeavour.

Instead, each tree within close proximity to a primary coin-tree was examined for

coins, as was every tree situated immediately beside main footpaths. Due to the

nature of this custom – with the majority of participants having come across a coin-

tree by chance – it is unlikely that any heavily-coined trees are located far from a

well-trodden footpath.

Additionally, the active nature of these sites and the process of dissemination render

it impossible to make any absolute assertions about quantities; there may have been

22 coin-trees at Tarn Hows (Appendix 2.38) on the day I conducted fieldwork at the

site in June 2012, but it is likely that this number will have grown since then. This is

evidenced at Hardcastle Crags, Yorkshire (Appendix 2.23), fieldwork for which was

conducted on two separate days.

Having visited the site on 31/03/2012, I catalogued five coin-trees. One coin-tree

(HC4) was a log, situated beside a large beech (Fagus), the trunk of which I

carefully examined for coins – and found none. Returning to the site on 09/04/2012

in order to gather ethnographic data, I gave this beech tree a cursory glance and

discovered two coins (a 50p and a £1) easily noticeable within the bark. Within the

space of a mere nine days, therefore, the quantity of coin-trees at Hardcastle Crags

had risen from five to six. Likewise at Malham (Appendix 2.30), in the time between

my first visit (03/03/2012) and my second (23/09/2012), six wooden posts had

become embedded with coins, increasing the quantity of coin-trees from 17 to 23.

The figures cited for quantities in this thesis, therefore, can only claim to be as

accurate as possible on the date of fieldwork.

4 – THE EMPIRICAL DATA: PRODUCING A PLAN

Once the number of coin-trees had been established at a site, the next task was to

gather the empirical data required for the production of an accurate plan. This data is

presented in Appendices 2-3. At each coin-tree cluster, the grid reference, latitude

and longitude, and elevation were recorded, and where relevant, the orientations of

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coin-tree logs were noted. The height/length and diameter of the coin-trees were

measured in centimetres, as were their distances and directions from nearby

footpaths, significant landscape features, and each other. This data was later

translated into plans of the sites, produced using Digimap and Adobe Illustrator.

Four plans were produced for each site: one to demonstrate their locations in relation

to each other and to landscape features; another to demonstrate their locations in

relation to sites and monuments within 500 square metres; and two, accompanied by

colour-coordinated legends, to illustrate coin volume in each coin-tree and type of

coin-tree, i.e. log, stump, living tree. These plans are complemented by a

photographic record of the coin-trees.

5 – THE EMPIRICAL DATA: CONDITIONS OF THE COIN-TREES

During fieldwork the condition of each individual coin-tree was noted. The

terminology for these conditions – together with quantities of coin-trees in such

conditions – is outlined in Appendix 2.2. For each of the coin-tree case-studies, I

have assigned a level of decay. As Woodall and Nagel write, decay class ‘is a

subjective determination of the amount of decay present in an individual log. Decay

class one is the least decayed (freshly fallen log), while decay class five is an

extremely decayed log typically consisting of a pile of brown, cubicle rot’ (2006:

117). Using the table in Appendix 2.3, based on guidelines given by the British

Columbian Ministry of Natural Resource Operations (Anonymous nd.), I have

assigned a decay class to each individual coin-tree through visual assessment.

For each coin-tree an attempt has been made to identify the tree species, using the

guides of Mitchell (1974) and Oldham (2003). This was easier for living trees, but

still possible for logs and stumps if their bark was intact. For those coin-trees of a

higher decay class, however, the identification of their species proved far more

difficult. For these trees, a hierarchy of species identification was followed, as

recommended by Woodall and Nagel (2006: 117): species; species group; hardwood

or softwood; and, finally, unknown.

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6 – THE EMPIRICAL DATA: CATALOGUING COINS

Once the locations and conditions of the trees had been recorded, attention was

transferred to the coins themselves. The first task was to ascertain quantity. For the

more sparsely coined coin-trees, this was a simple matter of counting on site.

However, this method would have proven impractical for the denser coin-trees (e.g.

AF1, with over 26,000 coins, and IG3, with at least 48,000). In these cases, for

greater accuracy, a stringed-grid was spread across the surface of the coin-trees and

digital photographs were taken of each 10x10cm grid-section (Fig. 10). Once these

photographs had been uploaded onto a computer, the quantities of coins in each grid-

square could be counted.

As with the quantities of coin-trees at each site, these figures cannot claim complete

accuracy. It is possible that some coins were overlooked and it is even more likely

that the quantities have risen since the dates of fieldwork. Again the Hardcastle

Crags case-study (Appendix 2.23) testifies to this; in the nine-day interval between

my first visit to the site and my second, at least eight coins had been added to the

coin-trees. Five of these had been inserted into the stump of HC6, adding to the 19

coins and 35 nails which had previously been inserted (Figs. 11-12). The quantities

of coins cited in this thesis, therefore, are intended to demonstrate the minimum

amount of coins embedded on the date of fieldwork.

Once the quantity of coins had been noted, the next task was to identify their

denominations, in order to ascertain if there were any notable patterns in the

depositors’ selections (Appendix 3.1). This was accomplished through a visual

assessment of their various colours, sizes, rims, and edges. Again, for the densely-

coined trees, the grid-squared photographs were resorted to for this task. Foreign

currency (Appendix 3.3) was either identified on site or photographed and identified

at a later date. Coins which were too deeply inserted or badly damaged/corroded to

identify were recorded as ‘unknown’.

Where possible, years of mint were recorded (Appendix 3.2). Issue years could only

be ascertained for a minority of coins, dependent upon how deeply and at what angle

they were embedded, and how heavily clustered they were. In the right conditions,

the year of mint would be visible; in other cases, the terminus post quem or terminus

ante quem could be ascertained through their designs. For example, one design-

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aspect utilised for this purpose was the word ‘NEW’, which was incorporated into

the reverse designs on one penny and two pence pieces from 1971 until 1982 (Fig.

13). Another design-aspect which indicates time period is Queen Elizabeth II’s

portrait, which has been altered four times since its first introduction on coinage in

1953; simply put, the younger Queen Elizabeth II looks, the older the coin is (Fig.

14).

An extensive redesign of British coins in 2008 offers another useful dating aid. This

redesign saw the removal of the crowned portcullis from one penny pieces, the

coronet and plumes of ostrich feathers from two pence pieces, the crowned thistle

from five pence pieces, the crowned lion from 10 pence pieces, and the crowned

Tudor rose from 20 pence pieces. The presence of these designs, therefore, indicates

that the coins bearing them were issued before 2008 (Fig. 15). The design introduced

to replace these was the Royal Arms, divided into sections with each denomination

depicting one fragment (Fig. 16); a coin bearing a section of the Royal Arms would

therefore have been issued in 2008 or after (Royal Mint, nd.).

Coins of higher denominations (50p, £1, £2) also proved useful for dating, as they

are often issued as commemorative coins and their reverse designs are altered

frequently. For example, a 50 pence piece inserted into BA5 depicted a pattern of

radiating lines accompanied by the words ‘FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY’ and the

initials ‘NHS’ on the outer border (Fig. 17). Utilising this information, I was able to

identify the coin as a 50 pence piece issued in 1998 to commemorate the 50th

anniversary of the National Health Service (Royal Mint, nd.).

See figure 18 for illustrative purposes. It depicts nine coins inserted into the Brock

Bottom coin-tree, labelled 1-9. Only coins 1 and 7 proffer no information for dating.

The remaining coins are all clearly post-decimalisation, issued (and therefore

inserted) after 1971. The issue-dates of coins 4, 5, and 8 are legible: 1998, 2007, and

1976. The crowned portcullis is depicted on coin 9, indicating that it was issued prior

to 2008, while coins 3 and 6, patterned with the coronet and plumes of ostrich

feathers, reveal the same. Coin 2, on the other hand, bears a section of the Royal

Arms, signifying that it was issued in 2008 or after. Data such as this was recorded

for coins in each coin-tree in order to estimate an approximate deposition time-

frame.

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However, even the dates that are visible do not necessarily provide accurate starting

points for each tree’s ritual life-span. A coin may have been minted in 1971, but that

certainly does not indicate that it was inserted in 1971; there are coins in my purse at

present, for instance, which were minted in 1979 and 1984. It is difficult, therefore,

to use only the empirical data as testimony to the ritual’s terminus post quem.

However, the testimony of the coins can certainly reveal whether the coin-tree was in

ritual use prior to 1971, through the presence (or absence) of pre-decimalisation

coins. The coins are also able to reveal how recently the coin-tree has been in ritual

use; a coin minted in 2011 cannot have been inserted prior to 2011.

It must be considered, however, that, as Collis points out in his work on the

archaeological analysis of deposited coins, some issues are more common than

others. Although earlier coins will still be in circulation, they will be rarer due to loss

or withdrawal of certain issues, while the coins most recently minted will also be

rare, due to having been in circulation for less time (1974: 194). Additionally, the

quantities of coins issued annually vary greatly, as is evidenced by Appendix 3.6,

which illustrates the total number of Great British coins issued each year, from 1968

to 2011.

I have not, therefore, made any broad assumptions based on the patterning of years

of mint. The year 2000, for example, is the most common (or mean average) year of

issue for coins at 11 coin-tree sites (AK, BA, CR, DD, FG, IG, LX, LG, MH, PG,

PM), but this does not necessarily indicate that the custom of deposition was

particularly popular during the year 2000. Instead, it may simply signify that there is

a particularly high quantity of coins which were issued in 2000 in circulation, as

Appendix 3.6 demonstrates. Careful consideration was therefore employed in the

utilisation of coins as aids for dating.

The arrangements of the coins within the trees were also recorded; whether they

were in a random configuration or whether their distribution was more patterned:

radial, annular, longitudinal, diagonal, or wave-like (Figs. 19-25). It was also noted

whether this distribution patterning was incidental – for example, the coins were

arranged longitudinally because they had been inserted into a pre-existing fissure –

or if the pattern was a result of imitative aesthetics. The conditions of the coins were

also noted, the terminology employed outlined in Appendix 3.4.

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Non-coin deposits were also recorded and photographed: rags, metal plates, tokens,

nails, drawing pins, jewellery, etc. Graffiti, either on the coin-tree or on surrounding

trees, was noted and photographed. Possible tools of percussion were also sought at

each site. Any rocks of significant size – but light enough to be lifted – within close

proximity to a coin-tree were examined for any signs of abrasion; if signs were

discovered, the rock would be designated a possible tool of percussion. It would be

measured, photographed, the level of abrasion noted, and the type of rock identified.

It would then be returned to its original location.

7 – THE EXCAVATION DATA: ARDMADDY

As demonstrated by the literature review, although there are few literary sources

referring to coin-tree sites, it is usually possible to determine an approximate time-

frame of deposition. For older coin-trees in particular, there are brief references in

the works of antiquarians or in local newspaper articles which can contribute to an

establishment of the chronology of the sites. Regardless of how vague these

references are they can indicate an approximate age of the coin-tree. If there is no

literature proffering such details, ethnographic data (see below) usually proves a

reliable dating source, and often this data and the information gleaned from the

literature are in relative agreement with what the empirical evidence suggests.

However, there is one coin-tree site which defies this trend: Ardmaddy, Argyll

(Appendices 2.9 & 5).

The primary Ardmaddy coin-tree (Fig. 9), a dead hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna),

is located half a mile south of Ardmaddy Castle, in a pass known as Bealach na

Gaoithe: the ‘pass of the winds’. It is uprooted and lies prone within a wooden

enclosure, 1.2m east of a rough track. The enclosure was erected during the 1990s,

following the tree’s fall, and is designed to deter livestock rather than people; on the

enclosure’s eastern side there is a stile providing access.

As explored in the literature review, Rodger et al.’s Heritage Trees of Scotland

claims that this tree ‘is encrusted with coins that have been pressed into the thin bark

by generations of superstitious travellers over the centuries’ (2003: 25, emphases

added). However, Rodger et al. reference no sources, providing no insight into how

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they came to the conclusion that this coin-tree is ‘centuries’ old. MacDonald’s 1983

hiker’s guide, Walking in South Lorn, makes a similarly vague reference to the coin-

tree’s antiquity, stating that it is ‘of considerable age’ (1983: 9). Likewise,

MacDonald offers no further information on how she has determined its maturity,

and, despite both claims that the Ardmaddy coin-tree is of significant age,

MacDonald is the earliest identified source which refers to the site.

MacDonald’s description of the coin-tree and the ‘traditional’ practice of coin-

insertion suggest that this custom was well-established at the time she was writing in

the 1980s. Another source proves that the custom was earlier: an Ordnance Survey

map from the 1970s pinpoints the coin-tree’s location and labels it ‘Wishing Tree’,

while the coin-tree’s custodian, Charles Struthers of Ardmaddy Estate, believes that

the custom may date to the 1920/30s: ‘When I was a boy here in the 50s the tree was

prolific and could well have been 20-30 years old then’ (pers. comm. 21/12/2011).

However, although these sources testify to the coin-tree’s relatively early

establishment, they do not prove that it is ‘centuries’ old. In fact, the empirical data

gathered at the site in September 2012 (Appendix 2.9) does not indicate that the

custom pre-dates the 1950s. The earliest datable coin inserted into the Ardmaddy

coin-tree was a 1958 shilling. Seven coins were dated to the 1960s; nine to the

1970s; and the figures increased exponentially from the 1980s, peaking in the 2000s.

This was not concurrent with what little ethnographic data I was able to obtain.

Ethnographic data was sought from local residents. However, following three visits

to historical societies and centres in Argyll, it quickly became apparent that the

majority of these groups have not resided in the area for long, most having relocated

there since retirement, and so they could offer little testimony to the age of this coin-

tree. Only two local residents had been in the area for a substantial amount of time,

and they claimed that the custom has been practised at that site since at least the

1920s. This coincides with Charles Struther’s testimony: that the custom had been

‘prolific’ in the 1950s. However, only one coin had been identified from that decade

and none earlier. The empirical data implied, conversely, that the custom had not

gained popularity until the late 20th

century.

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This disparity between the empirical data and the meagre literary and ethnographic

sources I was able to obtain led to the decision to employ a different method of

investigation at this particular site. The fragile, fragmented condition of the tree,

together with the high winds it is often subjected to, could have resulted in a high

volume of coins becoming dislodged and falling to the ground, where natural

processes would have buried them over time. It was therefore decided that a small-

scale excavation of the site may uncover coins and subsequently yield more accurate

information on the length of time the coin-tree custom has been observed at this

particular site.

Funding was obtained from the Heritage Lottery Fund, the Society of Post-Medieval

Archaeology, and the Catherine Mackichan Trust, and from 30/08/2013 to

05/09/2013 a small team of archaeologists from the University of Manchester

investigated six test pits in close proximity to the tree, ranging in size from 1.5x0.5m

to 0.8x0.8m. A total of 703 small finds were recovered and recorded. The

methodology employed on site is outlined below.

A site survey was made employing a Leica TC407, surveying the location of the

Ardmaddy coin-tree, any significant loose branches, the wooden enclosure, and the

track. Photographs were taken of the coin-tree and the wider landscape. The area

within the enclosure and an area of 1m wide outside the enclosure were metal

detected employing a C-Scope 990XD. Areas which produced high detection levels

were marked and surveyed.

The locations of test pits were decided based on three criteria: high concentration of

metal detected ‘hot spots’, close proximity to the coin-tree, whilst simultaneously

considering their safety and practicality in relation to the tree and the enclosure.

Areas were also chosen so as to ensure minimal disturbance to the coin-tree and any

significantly-sized loose branches; consequently, the sizes and shapes of the test pits

were irregular. Six test pits were chosen: five within the fence and, for comparative

purposes, one outside. The corners of each test pit were surveyed.

The top of each test pit was metal detected and any identified ‘hot spots’ were

fingertip searched. Any finds on the surface were 3D recorded and labelled, listing

the site code (AWT13), the test pit number, and an assigned small finds number (x1,

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x2, x3…). The test pits were then de-turfed; the reverse of the turf was metal

detected and fingertip searched, and any finds were labelled with a test pit and

context number but not 3D recorded. Context numbers were assigned in the order

spits were uncovered amongst all test pits.

The first 10cm spit of each pit was excavated by hand, employing the use of trowels.

All finds were 3D recorded at the bottom of each spit. The spits were recorded,

photographed, and drawn, and excavation and recording were repeated for the next

10cm spits. The excavation of each test pit continued until a spit was reached which

produced no finds; the pit would then be backfilled and re-turfed by hand.

Each find encountered was assigned a small-finds number in the field using a paper

record which was later transferred to a digital EXCEL spreadsheet (Appendix 5.13).

All artefacts were stored appropriately according to their type and condition, as

recommended in Watkinson (1987) and by conservators at Manchester Museum, and

then returned to the University of Manchester, where they were cleaned, weighed,

measured, and photographed to provide a visual record. The details of the artefacts

were later added to the spreadsheet: their denominations, years of issue, and their

conditions, which included noting whether they showed signs of damage through

percussion and assigning them a corrosion level of 1-4.

The results of the Ardmaddy excavation are discussed in greater detail in Chapter 7.

8 – THE ETHNOGRAPHIC DATA: OBSERVATION

In order to gain an understanding of how members of the public engage with and

perceive coin-trees, my approach was primarily ethnographic. In this case, Vickery’s

advice was followed: to ‘collect fresh, living, and lively material from the true

authorities – the ‘folk’ themselves’ (1995, vii).

Two methods were employed: observation and interviewing. I conducted my

fieldwork at optimal times for visitors’ numbers: I visited the coin-trees of Cumbria

during the Spring Bank Holiday and the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee (2012); Padley

Gorge on Boxing Day (2012); South-West England during Easter (2013), and the

other sites either on weekends or during school holidays. While weather in the

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British Isles is notoriously unpredictable, where possible I aimed to conduct

fieldwork on dry days in order to further maximise visitors’ numbers.

For each site, I stood or sat to one side of the primary coin-tree and dedicated one

hour to observing the quantities of people: A) passing the coin-tree without

acknowledging it; B) stopping to look at/photograph the coin-tree; C) stopping to

insert a coin. The overall quantities of visitors are not intended to be representative

of the average traffic each site receives on a daily basis; factors such as weather,

season, and day of the week cause great variance in such figures. However, the

percentages of visitors stopping to examine the coin-trees or to insert coins

themselves are intended to provide a relatively typical model. The results of my

observations are presented in Appendix 4.2.

The number of people who took notice of the coin-trees (by commenting, examining,

or inserting a coin) varied considerably at different sites, from 94% at Ingleton and

79% at Portmeirion, to 0% at Rydal and Claife Station. A number of factors may

have contributed to these variations. The quantity of coins already inserted may have

been one such factor. The primary coin-trees of Ingleton, Bolton Abbey, Tarn Hows,

and Aira Force were by far the most densely coined, and they were also the trees

which received the most attention. The coin-tree of Claife Station (Appendix 2.14),

however, contained only two coins and received no attention.

The size and visibility of the coin-trees may have been another contributing factor,

which would explain why the primary coin-tree at Ingleton (Fig. 26) received such a

high proportion of attention, with 94% of passers-by stopping to

examine/photograph it or to insert coins themselves. This coin-tree is both the largest

recorded physically and in coin density, and it stretches obtrusively out across the

main path of the Ingleton Waterfalls Trail in a large arch, making it quite impossible

to miss.

The height of the coin-trees is certainly a contributing factor, as is evidenced when

contrasting the two case-studies of Grizedale (Appendix 2.22) and Portmeirion

(Appendix 2.33). Despite the relatively large number of coin-trees at Grizedale (5)

and the relatively high quantity of coins (GZ3 contained 1590), only 22% of the

people passing appeared to notice them, which could have been the result of the

coin-trees’ low heights (Fig. 27). In contrast, the primary coin-tree of Portmeirion

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(PM4) contained a similar quantity of coins (2044), and yet 79% of passers-by took

notice of the primary cluster (Figs. 28-29). This may be due to the high level of

visibility of these trees, one of which is a stump raised up on the bank directly beside

the path, causing it to sit at eye level, and the other is a large stump stretching out

across the path itself.

Weather may have been an additional factor. It was relatively cold and overcast on

the day I conducted fieldwork at Grizedale, which may have reduced the walkers’

inclination to stop and examine the trees. In contrast, it was warm, dry, and bright at

Portmeirion, and visitors seemed much more inclined to stop and examine any

interesting sites they came across.

9 – THE ETHNOGRAPHIC DATA: INTERVIEWING

Following my hour of observation, I began to approach members of the public to

request interviews. I approached only those who had stopped to examine the coin-

tree, to photograph it, or to insert a coin. Having explained my research aims,

informed consent was sought from each participant and, although I used a set of

questions as a guide (see Appendix 4.1), interviews were often unstructured,

consisting of informal conversation. Recording participants’ responses in a notebook

was considered less obtrusive than using audio equipment, and so during and

immediately after each interview I noted down people’s responses, quoting certain

interesting phrases verbatim. These interactions were later typed up as accurately as

possible.

For each interview participant I noted their gender, the size of their group, and

estimated their age. I enquired about their ethnicity, which all participants appeared

happy to answer, and where they were from, in order to establish how far people had

travelled to the site. I also asked if they had ever seen/heard of other coin-trees. If the

participant had inserted a coin into the tree I asked them why. I queried if they knew

what species of tree the coin-tree was, to ascertain if species was relevant to the

participants, and I also asked what coin they had inserted, why they had chosen that

particular coin, and how they had inserted it. If the participant had not inserted a

coin, I asked why they believed others had done so.

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Of the people I approached for interviews nobody declined to answer my questions.

Some people, in fact, approached me in order to enquire about the custom – I was

apparently deemed an authority on the subject with my clipboard, measuring tape,

and ranging rod. Throughout the interviews, people exhibited much curiosity about

my project, enquiring about my university, subject area, methodology, and the topic

of my thesis. Often the participants asked as many questions as they answered and

many seemed rather disappointed when I could not give them a definitive answer as

to the purpose of the coin-trees.

I initially aimed to interview 10 individuals/groups at each coin-tree site. However,

the variations in the amount of attention different coin-trees received naturally

affected the number of people I could approach for interviews. Subsequently the

quantities of interviews conducted varied greatly from site to site (Appendix 4.3); for

example, 20 interviews or more were conducted at the more popular sites of

Ingleton, Tarn Hows, Aira Force, and Portmeirion, while no interviews (bar those

with the sites’ custodians) were conducted at sites which received no public

attention, such as at Cragside, Rydal, Loxley, Claife Station, Arnside Knott,

Marbury, Fore, and Clonenagh. In total, I conducted 219 interviews.

10 – THE ETHNOGRAPHIC DATA: THE INTERNET

As detailed in Chapter 2 and above, online blogs and forum threads provided

information about the locations of coin-trees; they also communicated a sense of

how these online communities were perceiving and presenting the coin-trees, data

which I refer to throughout this thesis. The analysis of personal opinions expressed

by members of the public raises the issue of ethics; when those members of the

public are expressing their opinions on publically-accessible websites, however,

ethics become more ambiguous. Miller (2012) notes that the Internet offers a

veritable ‘treasure trove’ of ethnographic data. However, she also remarks on the

‘muddy ethical field’ of Internet research (2012: 228), considering what protections

are necessary, whether consent should be obtained and how, and noting the

ambiguity between private and public space online. These factors lead her to

question whether the Internet is a suitable forum for academic research into human

subjects.

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However, as the Association of Internet Researchers stress, ‘rather than one-size-fits-

all pronouncements, ethical decision-making [in Internet research] is best

approached through the application of practical judgment attentive to the specific

context’ (Markham and Buchanan 2012: 4). The contexts of the forums and blogs

referred to in this thesis do not, in my opinion, necessitate a great deal of ethical

delicacy. They are all publically accessible, with none requiring online membership,

and the contributors do not appear to view the subject-matter as sensitive. However,

due to the nature of discussion forums – with many contributors using aliases, and

with many discussion threads having ‘timed out’ due to inactivity – I shall refer to

these online contributors anonymously.

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CHAPTER 4: ‘READING SUPERSTITION BACKWARDS’

It is a warm and sunny Saturday during the Easter holidays and Portmeirion Village

is brimming with visitors. The majority are clustered within the village itself,

admiring the architecture and perusing the gift shops, but many are exploring the

surrounding woodland trails. The main footpath leads north from the Hotel

Portmeirion, and it is less than five minutes’ walk from here that visitors come

across the primary cluster of coin-trees. This cluster consists of a sparsely-coined

living tree and three densely-coined stumps.

I have been conducting fieldwork at this cluster for one hour and have witnessed

many visitors examining the coin-trees or inserting their own coins. The stumps are

particularly conspicuous, located directly beside the path and, because of the

sunshine, many of the coins are lustrous and eye-catching. However, it is my

presence that attracts the notice of one particular group. This group comprises of a

couple in their 60s, from Cambridge, and their son in his 40s, who introduces

Coin-trees on Isle Maree, Wester Ross (Photograph by author)

76

himself as Peter. They notice that I have draped the primary coin-tree with the

stringed net used as an aid for counting the coins, and approach to enquire about

the coin-tree.

Peter confidently assumes that the coin-tree was created by Sir Clough Williams-

Ellis, the architect who designed Portmeirion. He does not believe that the coin-tree

is a contemporary structure – ‘it must be decades old’, he opines – nor does he

believe that the coins have been inserted by different depositors; ‘Have you ever

actually seen anyone inserting a coin?’ he asks me doubtfully. When I assure him

that less than five minutes before his arrival I had witnessed a family contribute their

own coins, he appears taken aback. His parents move further along the path to

examine the other coin-trees, but Peter, clearly intrigued, remains with me to

continue our discussion.

He seems particularly interested in the history of coin-trees and what he terms the

‘continuation of folklore’. ‘Sites in London are used like that all the time,’ he

informs me, ‘sacred places carry on being used but they’re used for different

reasons’. He compares this process to the revival of the coin-tree custom, which he

describes as the ‘continuation of an old custom’. When I ask him why he believes

people participate in this custom, he is now confident in his answer: ‘It’s in our DNA

to do things like this, to carry them on. Like throwing coins into a fountain;

something we may not really believe in anymore but we do it just because we’ve

always done it.’

PART 1: THE HISTORICAL COIN-TREE

1 – INTRODUCTION

‘There is no legend or story associated with our coin trees’, asserts Moira Smith,

Visitor Manager of the Bolton Abbey Estate. ‘The first tree was started about 15 to

20 years ago. The tree had fallen across the path and as is our policy the foresters

moved it to the side of the path, made it safe, and left it there to naturally break

down. While doing this the forester found a coin on the floor. He simply picked this

up and pushed the coin into the trunk. The rest is history as they say’ (pers. comm.

10/02/2012). And thus the primary Bolton Abbey coin-tree was coined.

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25 miles away, another coin-tree was created when, according to an article on the

Northern Earth website, a woman at Hardcastle Crags ‘confessed that she’d pushed

two coins into a…sawn-up trunk by the riverside there, while wishing for a job as a

dental nurse – and got the job. She now calls it the Wishing Tree’ (Billingsley 2005).

While nearly 400 miles north of both of these examples, a local business owner in

Rosemarkie, the Black Isle, attests that the coin-trees of Fairy Glen (Appendix 2.19)

were originally coined in the early 2000s when ‘a couple of local boys – sons of

friends – just decided to knock a few coins into a tree’ (per. comm. 04/09/2012).

While these three sources do not explicitly state that their respective coin-trees were

the first trees to have been created, all three imply a sense of isolation in the

emergence of this custom. They suggest that the forester at Bolton Abbey, the dental

nurse at Hardcastle Crags, and the local boys at Fairy Glen acted spontaneously, and

in each case the coin-tree’s creation is almost presented as an unprecedented

incident; they each emerged out of the blue.

However, as all scholars of culture will know, nothing emerges ‘out of the blue’;

customs do not simply spring forth from a vacuum. But, if not from a vacuum, then

where did the rather bewildering custom of inserting coins into the bark of felled

trees spring from? The aim of this chapter is to address this question, and it will be

divided into two sections focusing respectively on the historical emergence of this

custom and its contemporary renaissance.

This is certainly not the first attempt made to unravel an obscure practice or, to use

Jones and Pennick’s term, an ‘undeciphered tradition’ (1995: 110). Schama writes of

how the ‘curious excavator of traditions stumbles over something protruding above

the surface of the commonplaces of contemporary life. He scratches away,

discovering bits and pieces of a cultural design that seems to elude coherent

reconstruction’ (1996: 16, emphases added). Hartland likewise notes that some

customs:

seem such odd, senseless practices that, until one has learned that most

human practices, however odd and senseless they appear, have their

reasons and are not mere caprices, it is not easy to suppose they ever

had a reasonable basis. And even when one is assured that there is an

underlying reason, the question, What is that reason? has been found a

very perplexing one (1893: 451)

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Regardless of how ‘perplexing’ the coin-tree custom may appear, therefore, it is not

a ‘senseless’ or isolated practice, nor is it a ‘mere caprice’. However, when faced

with such seemingly undecipherable customs, it is difficult to know where to begin

in order to unravel their origins. Archbishop Whately, writing in the 19th

century,

offers his solution to the problem: ‘almost every system of superstition, in order to

be rightly understood, should be (if I may so speak) read backwards’ (1860: 196). He

advises the investigator to cast their gaze rearward, to trace a custom back

chronologically; to read the ‘superstition’ backwards.

As explained in Chapter 3, the first coin-tree sites I became aware of were Bolton

Abbey and Dovedale, and for the first few weeks of research I was under the

erroneous impression that, whilst these were not the only sites in the British Isles,

they were probably the earliest. I did not believe, therefore, that reading the

‘superstition’ backwards would require casting my gaze back too far. As the

following case-studies will demonstrate, I was mistaken.

2 – CASE-STUDY: ISLE MAREE, SCOTLAND

Stretching for 12 miles in a north-westerly direction, Loch Maree is the fourth largest

fresh-water loch in Scotland and accommodates more than sixty islands. One of

these islands shares its name with the loch. Situated 250m from the northern shore,

Isle Maree is of triangular shape, measuring roughly 200m by 170m, and although it

is one of the loch’s smaller islands, it is considered the ‘most interesting’ (Dixon

1886: 150) and the ‘most historic’ (Macrow 1953: 85).

The local traditions surrounding Isle Maree are many and varied (Mitchell 1863:

253) – far too many to detail here. Indeed, in the work of Ratcliffe Barnett, penned in

1930, there is a rather poetic and whimsical description of the island, more akin to

the works of Tolkien or C. S. Lewis than to that of an antiquarian: ‘There, in a little

clearing of the wood, we found what we had come to see – the stones of the Dead

Lovers, the site of the Hermit’s Cell, the Well of Magic Waters, and the Dead Tree’

(1930: 112). While it is the ‘Dead Tree’ (Figs. 6-8) that specifically concerns me,

attention must first be given to the ‘Well of Magic Waters’.

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This well was under the sacred custodianship of Saint Maelrubha, also known as

Maree (673-722), the patron saint of the district (Mitchell 1863: 254-255). Pennant

writes that Isle Maree was his ‘favoured isle’ (1775: 330), and he is said to have

consecrated a well there, which stood in Isle Maree’s south-western corner and was

widely believed to cure lunacy. Rituals surrounding this holy well are well

documented (Pennant 1775: 330; Reeves 1857-60: 288-289; Mitchell 1863: 251-262;

Dixon 1886: 151; Godden 1893: 500-501; Muddock 1898: 437-438; Barnett 1930:

113; Duff 1968: 332; Hamilton 1981: 101; Donoho 2014), and are described

(although probably exaggerated) in local Presbytery records and the New Statistical

Account of Scotland (14.2.92, cited by Mitchell 1863; Dixon 1886). The earliest of

such records is from 1656 (Mitchell 1863: 251; Godden 1893: 500), and it appears

that it was last resorted to for the cure of insanity in the 1850s (Dixon 1886: 151;

Godden 1893: 500), following an act of desecration – a farmer lowering his dog into

the well, hoping to cure the animal of madness – which was, according to Dixon,

believed to have ‘driven virtue…from the well’ (1886: 157). Subsequently, by the

time Mitchell visited Isle Maree in 1863 the well was dry (1863: 262).

By the 1950s, when the island was visited by travel writer Macrow, she remarked on

how difficult it was to determine the site of this well (1953: 88), and today no trace

of it remains. However, it is possible to determine where it once stood judging by the

location of Ratcliffe Barnett’s ‘Dead Tree’, as Godden did in the 1890s: ‘In the damp

ground at the tree’s foot is a small dark hole…it is filled up with dead leaves. This is

the healing-well’ (1893: 499).

The earliest known reference to a significant tree on Isle Maree was given by

Pennant in 1775; in his description of the island, he writes of how a ‘stump of a tree

is shewn as an altar…[The patient/pilgrim] is made to kneel before the altar, where

his attendants leave an offering of money’ (1775: 330). This tree cannot be the later

coin-tree of Isle Maree, due to its description as a ‘stump’, but it clearly evinces an

early role played by trees at this site as receptacles for coins.

It appears that this votive tree stump was held in veneration through its connection

with the holy well. In fact, it originally appears to have simply been utilised as a

convenient altar on which pilgrims attached their offerings to St. Maelrubha after

their visits to the saint’s holy well. However, while the tree may have initially been

80

utilised for ritual purposes because of its association with the holy well, it went on to

outlive that well; indeed, to supplant it. While the healing well of St. Maelrubha fell

out of use, leaving no visible trace of it behind, the ritual life of the tree continued.

While in 1775 Pennant describes how coins were deposited on a tree-stump ‘altar’,

later sources refer to a rag-tree at the site. This may be the later coin-tree in its

earliest incarnation. Hartland describes how pilgrims, seeking a cure from the holy

well of St. Maelrubha, attached pieces of clothing to the nearby tree (1893: 453), and

Barnett reports that they would tie rags or ribbons to its branches (1930: 114). On

Mitchell’s visit to Isle Maree in 1863, the tree – now specified as oak (Quercus) –

was apparently studded with nails: ‘To each of these was originally attached a piece

of the clothing of some patient who had visited the spot’ (1863: 253). Another

(particularly notable) participant of this ritual, Queen Victoria, who visited Isle

Maree on her tour of Scotland in 1877, similarly observed ‘rags and ribbons’ tied to

the branches of the tree (Duff 1968: 333).

At some point during its ritual career, however, the tree of Isle Maree shed its rags

and became predominantly a nail-tree. Mitchell describes how the tree was ‘studded

with nails’ (1863: 253), whilst Hartland observes how ‘the nails are believed to be

covered with the bark, which appears to be growing over them’ (1893: 453-454).

However, the tree on Isle Maree did not remain exclusively a nail-tree for long – if at

all. Numerous other metal objects were reported to have been affixed to its bark.

Mitchell mentions two buckles (1863: 253), and Godden lists ‘nails, screws, and

rusty iron fragments’ amongst the offerings (1893: 499). In fact, Dixon reports the

belief that ‘any metal article’ should be attached to the tree (1886: 150), whilst

Godden remarks that by the time she visited the island in the 1890s, ‘the driving in

of a bit of metal is the only necessary act’ (1893: 499).

However, by the late 1800s this broad category of ritual deposits had narrowed once

more, and one particular metal votive object came to the fore: the coin. The sources

indicate that, for as long as the tree and the holy well on Isle Maree have been

ritually employed, coins have been amongst the offerings deposited there. When the

tree was still predominantly a rag-tree, it appears that these pilgrims would also leave

coins as an offering on the well (Barnett 1930: 114). The coins eventually began to

be inserted into clefts and cracks in the bark of the rag-tree itself, rather than left

81

beside the well. Mitchell, writing in 1863, describes how ‘[c]ountless pennies and

halfpennies are driven edge-ways into the wood’ (1863: 253).

By the time of Queen Victoria’s visit to the island in 1877, it had become the custom

‘for everyone who goes there to insert with a hammer a copper coin, as a sort of

offering to the saint’ (Duff 1963: 332); the coin had thus become the prominent

offering. Indeed, by the 1890s it was being referred to as ‘the money tree’ (Muddock

1898: 437), and by Colonel Edington’s visit in 1927, no pins or nails were visible in

the bark of the tree, only coins (McPherson 1929: 75) – so many coins, in fact, that

Edington describes the tree as ‘covered with metallic scales’ (cited in McPherson

1929: 75).

The hundreds of coins inserted into clefts and cracks have no doubt taken their toll

on this tree, which is now dead. It was still alive in the 1860s, when Mitchell

described how the bark continued to grow over the coins (1863: 253), but Queen

Victoria described it as an ‘old tree’ in 1877 (Duff 1968: 332), and Dixon observed

in 1886 that it was ‘nearly dead’ (1886: 150); this is clearly evident in the

photograph taken of the tree in the 1890s and reproduced in Godden’s article (1893)

(Fig. 7). By 1927, when Colonel Edington visited, it was ‘evidently dead’ (cited by

McPherson 1929: 75), and McPherson believed that this ‘holy tree shared the fate of

the holy well – the devotion of pilgrims has proven its undoing. The coins,

hammered in and destroying the bark, have killed the object of their veneration’

(1929: 75). Indeed, copper poisoning is assumed to have caused the death of this tree

(MacLeish 1968: 420).

The death of the tree, however, has not led to the death of the custom. Indeed, it

appears to have proliferated; by the 1950s, as the original tree had become too

densely coined, the custom had spread to surrounding trees (Appendix 2.26)

(Macrow 1953: 88-89). In 2002, when the North of Scotland Archaeological Society

conducted a survey of the site, they catalogued nine coin-trees on Isle Maree.

However, in the intervening decade between their 2002 survey and my own

fieldwork, on 14/04/2012, this number had increased to 15, evidence that the custom

has far from fallen out of popularity.

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3 – CASE-STUDY: CLONENAGH, THE REPUBLIC OF IRELAND

The coin-tree of Clonenagh, Co. Laois, is a living sycamore (Acer pseudoplatanus),

a species not native to Ireland but well naturalised in current times (Williams

1996/1997: 405). It is located three miles north-west of the town of Mountrath,

standing on a grassy bank 4.6m north-north-west of the R445, a busy road running

between Dublin and Limerick.

2.9m to the west of the coin-tree is an interpretation panel set up by Laois County

Council, who manage the land. It offers the following information about the coin-

tree, which it dubs ‘St Fintan’s Tree’:

This tree was planted 200 to 250 years ago, within the area of the ancient

Monastery of Clonenagh.

A well which also venerated the Saint was nearby. When the well was

closed, a spring appeared in the fork of the tree and became the focal point

for “patterns” (celebrations on the Saint’s feast day) for many years.

A custom developed of inserting coins into the bark of the tree, and it

became known as the “Money Tree”. Because of metallic poisoning and

damage to the bark due to this custom, the tree has now gone into decay. But

a number of shoots have been salvaged and it is hoped that these might

prolong the life of the tree.

Please refrain from inserting any metal into the tree or damaging it in any way.

Saint Fintan pray for us.

This information plaque clearly demonstrates a deep-seated connection between the

coin-tree and St. Fintan, a 6th

- and 7th

-century Irish saint who is believed to have

founded the monastic community of Clonenagh (Sperber 2004: 29-30).

According to local historian Roe there was once a ‘fine spring well’ nearby, which

was ‘always the subject of great veneration among the country people’ (1939: 27).

This veneration continued until the mid-19th

century, until it was filled in by the

land-owner, a Protestant farmer who was ‘annoyed by the number of people who

visited this well’ (Roe 1939: 27). According to local legend, St. Fintan subsequently

diverted this spring from the farmer’s land to a hollow in the nearby sycamore tree:

St. Fintan’s Tree, which became known as the ‘Well in the tree’ (Morton 1998: 195)

(Figs 30-31). A photograph taken by Father Francis Browne in 1933 shows a priest

sitting in the branches surrounding this hollow, possibly having just deposited an

offering of his own (Harbison 1991: Fig 102) (Fig. 32).

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acer_pseudoplatanus

83

The veneration awarded to the Clonenagh tree subsequently led to its employment as

a rag-tree. According to Roe, writing in the 1930s, ‘people climb up to the tree and

make a wish with the water, and subsequently tie a little bit of rag or ribbon into the

branches of the tree’ (1939: 27), and this is clearly evident in Father Browne’s

photographs. It is unclear when the tradition of affixing rags was replaced by the

custom of inserting coins, but it must have occurred between the 1930s – no coins

are visible in Father Browne’s photograph of the tree – and the 1990s, for at the time

Harbison was writing his work on Pilgrimage in Ireland in 1991, there were

apparently ‘thousands of coins hammered into the tree by passers-by’ (1991: 231).

When the tree died and fell in 1994, the practice of coin insertion had become so

prolific that the tree is described by Simon as having been ‘densely packed [with

coins] to a height of two metres’ (2000: 28).

Morton writes that the insertion of coins into the tree’s trunk was ‘for wishes and for

luck’, and also records the practice of taking pieces of the tree as souvenirs, to which

he opines ‘no wonder it eventually fell’ (1998: 195). The high quantity of coins also

no doubt led to the tree’s fall in 1994, after which, according to Morton ‘hundreds of

coins still adorned the remaining, fallen sections’ (1998: 195). Figure 33 shows the

dead Clonenagh coin-tree in 1998, its fallen trunk heavily embedded with coins.

Morton, considering the state of the tree, proposed that a replacement tree might be

planted (1998: 195).

Subsequently, as observed on fieldwork in September 2012 (Appendix 2.15), a

young sycamore has replaced the original tree, which has since disappeared. There

was a large tree fragment on the ground 4m west of the coin-tree, measuring 87x42

x36cm (Fig. 34). It contained no coins, but was possibly all that remains of the

original Clonenagh coin-tree. There were also much smaller wooden fragments

distributed on the ground between the coin-tree and the car-park. These contained no

coins, but one of the coins discovered on the ground was located 5.9m from the new

coin-tree.

The likeliest explanation is that the original coin-tree became so badly decayed that

large sections of it were easily removed – possibly as ‘souvenirs’ (Morton 1998:

195) – leaving only one coin-less fragment on the ground. The custom subsequently

transferred to a younger replacement. Despite the unfortunate fate of the original

84

Clonenagh tree, and the fact that the information plaque requests visitors to ‘refrain

from inserting any metal into the tree’, 92 coins have already been embedded into

the young sycamore (Figs. 35-36).

4 – CASE STUDY: ARDBOE, NORTHERN IRELAND

There have been two coin-trees at Ardboe, Co. Tyrone, one replacing the other. The

original, known locally as the ‘wishing-tree’ or the ‘pin-tree’, was one of several

beech (Fagus) trees standing within the Old Cross graveyard, in close vicinity to

Ardboe High Cross; the tallest cross in Northern Ireland, this is managed by the

Northern Ireland Environment Agency. The original tree had probably been planted

in the mid-19th

century by Christopher Treanor whose residence stood adjacent to the

graveyard. It is both possible, although difficult to prove, that this tree was planted to

replace an earlier healing or wishing tree, and that it was planted on the site of a

former holy well, both theories proposed by local author Pat Grimes (2000).

This coin-tree was initially a rag-tree. Mr C. D. Deane, the former Deputy Director

of Belfast Museum and Art Gallery, was quoted in the Mid-Ulster Mail in 1959 as

describing the coin-tree as having been originally adorned with rags, which ‘were

not merely offerings, they were riddances, the putting away of the evils impending or

incurred by sin or sickness’ (1959). Deane also describes how rainwater would

collect in a hole in the tree, in which the sick would bathe their faces hoping for

cures (1959).

By the 1940s, local tradition held that warts and lumps could be cured by pricking

them with a pin and then inserting that pin into the tree (Devlin 1948; Simon 2000:

28), but many other objects were also inserted. Francis Quinn, the caretaker of the

Old Cross of Ardboe – and also the tree – describes the tree in Devlin’s Collected

History of Ardboe:

[The] tree, filled with pins, pennies, nails, buttons, and such things, is called the

wishing tree or pin tree. It was there in my father’s and grandfather’s time.

Everybody that comes here puts in a pin or a nail or any such thing and makes a

wish. (Devlin 1948)

85

Eight years later, in an article in the Mid-Ulster Observer, Francis Quinn was

interviewed again concerning this tree: ‘When asked if the wishes came true, Francis

only smiled and declared that he did not know. He did add that young girls often

wished for a husband but he had never heard tell of the tree proving obliging in this

respect’ (Anonymous 1956: 3).

Three years later, when Deane’s talk on the Old Cross of Ardboe was broadcast

(1959), he describes how ‘the bark is stained with the rust of a thousand pieces of

metal: hairpins, safety-pins, pennies, nails, bolts, and even a military badge, the

personal offerings of a wishful public’ (Figs. 37-38). The great quantity of offerings,

however, had begun to have a negative effect by the 1950s; as Deane observed, the

‘tree is barely a hundred years old, though the wounds in its bark are slowly killing

it’ (1959). It survived another 14 years, and then in the winter of 1973-74, it fell

(Grimes 1999).

The tradition, however, did not die with the tree. As Grimes writes, ‘[a]lmost

immediately visitors and pilgrims to Ardboe began to use an adjacent mature beech

tree as a repository for their coins, pins, and wishes’ (1999) (Fig. 39). However, this

substitute did not survive long. Within a few years, it had wilted and died, and then

in 1997, on Christmas Eve, a gale brought it down. It lay in a field until April 1998,

when members of the Muintirevlin Historical Society sawed the trunk into several

sections (Figs. 40-41). One section was presented to the Ulster Folk and Transport

Museum and the remaining sections, to local groups and individuals (Appendix 2.8).

In March 1998, a 10-year-old beech tree was planted in the Old Cross graveyard as a

replacement (Fig. 42). However, as of 07/04/2012 (the date of fieldwork), no coins

or pins had been inserted into this tree. Various reasons for this lack of continuity

have been proposed by local residents. Pat Grimes believes that the replacement tree

is still too young and there are no suitably large substitutes in the vicinity to serve as

replacements (pers. comm. 07/04/2012). Rose Ryan, on the other hand, of the

Muintirevlin Historical Society, believes that the tradition has simply ‘died out’; that

the local population have become ‘too cynical’ in recent years to keep the tradition

‘alive’ (pers. comm. 07/04/2012).

86

5 – READING ‘SUPERSTITION’ BACKWARDS

As the above case-studies have illustrated, the custom of the coin-tree is far older

than the ‘15 to 20 years’ (Moira Smith, pers. comm. 10/02/2012) of the Bolton

Abbey coin-tree, clearly indicating that when the forester inserted a coin he was not

instigating an unprecedented custom – and neither was the dental nurse at Hardcastle

Crags nor the local boys at Fairy Glen. Indeed, the custom of inserting coins into

trees is at least 150 years old, the earliest known reference to it being Campbell’s

description of ‘copper caps…placed in chinks in rocks and trees at the edge of the

“Witches’ Well”’ in Islay in 1860 (1860: 134). While the earliest known reference to

a specific coin-tree is Mitchell’s account of ‘[c]ountless pennies and

halfpennies...driven edge-ways into the wood’ of the Isle Maree tree in 1863 (1863:

253).

However, even in the 1860s a custom would not simply emerge ‘out of the blue’.

Just as the forester, the dental nurse, and the Rosemarkie local boys were not

creating an entirely new and contemporary custom, neither was the first person to

insert a coin into the Isle Maree tree. Their decision to participate in this act will

likewise have been influenced by their (conscious or subconscious) awareness of

pre-existing customs and beliefs. In order to understand their motivations, therefore,

Whately’s advice is again consulted: to take the 1860s references to coin insertion as

a starting point and, from there, to read backwards, in order to understand the beliefs

and notions which culminated in the custom of the coin-tree.

For this endeavour, the physical structures of the coin-trees themselves will offer the

most useful evidence. As Friedel observes, ‘it is ironic that studies of material

culture should so neglect the actual materials that go into creating culture’ (1993:

42), a criticism repeated by Hodder, who notes ‘there is very little detailed

description of artifacts in much of the literature dealing with materiality’ (2012: 39).

The same error will not be made here. Therefore, in order to contextualise the coin-

tree, these structures will be excavated. They will be treated as sites to be unearthed,

as artefacts to be analysed and dissected; and a mental dismantling of the coin-tree

leaves two distinct, tangible components: the tree and the coin. Both of these possess

a wealth of ritual and folkloric associations, and the next section of this chapter will

trace the history of these associations in an attempt to contextualise the coin-tree,

87

whilst the following section will consider the possible stimuli behind its

contemporary resurgence.

6 – THE RAG-TREE

‘Men and plants are old acquaintances’, writes Grigson (1955: 13), and a cursory

review of the literature, explored in Chapter 2, reveals there to be no scarcity of

ritual and folkloric uses of trees. As the literature review demonstrated, trees have a

long history of being employed as apotropaic devices and of being resorted to for

luck and wish fulfilment. However, the most notable use of trees in British folkloric

practices is remedial, and the most widespread practice involving the employment of

trees for healing is that of the rag-tree.

The ‘rag-tree’ is a tree or bush, the branches of which are affixed with strips of cloth

and other objects. They are usually associated with holy wells, of which there are

numerous examples across the British Isles; Jones lists 1179 holy wells in Wales

(1954; Dowden 2000: 42), whilst Lucas estimates more than 3000 in Ireland (1963:

40). These wells were often employed for their curative properties, originally as part

of pagan hydrolatry but later adopted by Christianity, the wells transferring to the

custodianship of Christian saints (Daly 1961; Rattue 1995).

One theory linking holy wells with rag-trees posits that, once a pilgrim had resorted

to a holy well for a remedy, they were then expected to deposit a token of thanks to

the well’s presiding saint. Trees located within close proximity to the well provided

convenient ‘altars’ upon which the pilgrim could deposit their offering (Dowden

2000: 74), and were just one example of the many receptacles employed for this

purpose, which ranged from beneath stones and within the wells themselves, to

purpose-built repositories (Jones 1954: 93; Hardy 1840: 97-98). According to this

theory, therefore, trees were incidental to the custom.

However, it is more popularly believed that the trees were actually integral to this

custom. To some, rag-trees are evidence of residual tree-worship; Bord and Bord

believe that the hanging of rags on such trees is ‘only a secondary function. Their

principal significance seems to be as a relic of ancient tree worship’ (1985: 98).

88

Walhouse (1880: 97) and Hope (1893: xxii), writing in the late 19th

century, share

the opinion that the rag-trees themselves were viewed as sacred, and numerous holy

wells appear to have been named after trees, such as ‘Ash well’, ‘Holly well’, and

‘Oak well’ (Rattue 1995: 42).

In some cases, the rag-trees do seem to have been integral to the efficacy of the

wells. At Easter Rarichie, Ross and Cromarty, for example, there was a well believed

to cure tuberculosis so long as a certain tree stood beside it. When this tree was

felled, the well purportedly lost its power (Bord and Bord 1985: 59), and the same

occurred when two trees fell beside a well near Perth in 1770 (Bord and Bord 1985:

101). However, trees are more commonly believed integral to this custom due to the

protection they offer. Trees were often utilised as apotropaic devices, and several

different species, most notably ash (Hope 1893: xxii; Hull 1928: 113; Shephard

1994: 2; Rackard et al. 2001: 8), were believed to function as protective agents in the

early modern period, planted beside wells as guardians to ward off fairies and

witches (Shephard 1994: 63).

The rag-tree, therefore, was most probably not utilised merely as a convenient

recipient of offerings, an incidental companion to the holy well; it was, in most

cases, vital to the custom through properties it possessed itself. In some cases,

however, the tree was given these properties by a holy well.

7 – OUTLIVING HOLY WELLS

Lucas writes that the ‘typical holy well has a bush or tree growing alongside it which

partakes of the sanctity of the well’ (1963: 40, emphases added); the tree may not be

sacred in its own right, but it becomes sacred because of its association with the holy

well. This partaking of the well’s sanctity may be literal as well as symbolic; in some

cases, the water is believed to have transferred from the well to the tree. At Easter

Rarichie, Ross and Cromarty, for example, the healing spring known as Sul na Ba

flowed through a tree trunk, endowing that tree with curative properties (Bord and

Bord 1985: 59), whilst the Clonenagh coin-tree (above) likewise demonstrates this

process. As Shephard writes, trees ‘growing by water soak up a tremendous amount

89

of that water so it can be said that if the water is holy then the tree can impart the

divine qualities of the water to the people beneath’ (1994: 2).

This transference of sanctity not only imbues the tree with power, but allows it to

establish itself as a ritual structure independent from the holy well, so that it may

subsequently outlive it. For example, Hull describes a site on the River Sullane, the

Republic of Ireland, whereby despite the holy well having run dry, the surrounding

briar bushes are still heavily affixed with rags (1928: 108). The Isle Maree and

Clonenagh (and possibly Ardboe) case-studies offer examples of rag/nail-trees

surviving the loss of holy wells, and thus outliving them. It is also not uncommon for

a tree to replace desecrated or polluted holy wells as the objects of people’s

veneration, thus becoming ‘holy wells’ themselves. Lucas lists the example of

Clonenagh amongst many others in Ireland: Lady’s Well, Skirk, Co. Laois; The Tree

of Castlebellew, Cloonoran, Co. Galway; the Pin Well, Tartaraghan, Co. Armagh;

Mary’s Well, Rockspring, Co. Cork; and St. Margaret’s Well, Cooraclare, Co. Clare

(1963: 41), all of which illustrate a tree’s ability to replace a holy well as the central

focus of a folkloric healing ritual.

8 – SUBSTITUTING THE SACRED: GOUGANE BARRA

As the case-studies of Isle Maree, Clonenagh, and Ardboe demonstrate, however,

trees not only replace holy wells; they also replace each other – sometimes in

defiance of the custodian’s wishes. For example, when the Clonenagh coin-tree fell

and fragmented, the tree which grew from the original’s salvaged roots began to be

utilised instead, despite the interpretation panel requesting that people ‘refrain from

inserting any metal into the tree’. This process of substitution, in violation of a

custodian’s request, is clearly evident at another coin-tree site: Gougane Barra, Co.

Cork (Appendix 2.21).

The island of Gougane Barra is a popular pilgrimage site, and has been for at least

the past 200 years. In the 18th

and 19th

centuries its remote location, in Gougane

Lake in Co. Cork, made it a prominent site for rituals which combined Christianity

with pagan practices (McCarthy 2006: 21). On 23rd

June, several hundred pilgrims

flocked annually to the island for the Eve of St. John’s feast, a pilgrimage described

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by Croker, who partook in the celebrations there in 1813 (1824: 277ff). He does not

make reference to any custom involving a tree but does refer to a wooden pole

standing in the centre of the Pilgrim’s Terrace, which was apparently all that

remained of a large cross. Croker describes the popular custom of attaching votive

rags and bandages to this wooden pole, ‘intended as acknowledgments of their cure’,

and these rags and bandages were affixed to the pole by nails, causing it to be

‘braced with many pieces of iron’ (1824: 276-277). This practice appears to be

depicted in an anonymous painting of Gougane Barra, 1809, which shows a crowd

gathering around a wooden pole, crowned with a cross; one person, at least, is

attaching something to the pole (Figs. 43-44).

These ‘pagan rituals’ were banned in 1818 by the Catholic Bishop of Cork, John

Murphy (McCarthy 2006: 21). However, this does not appear to have deterred

pilgrims from attaching their offerings to the wooden post in the Pilgrim’s Terrace,

and then to the replacement wooden cross which was commissioned by Fr. Patrick

Hurley, the Parish Priest, in the early 1900s (McCarthy 2011). By this time, the rags

and ‘many pieces of iron’ seem to have been replaced by coins (Kieran McCarthy,

pers. comm. 22/12/2011), and Figure 45, a photograph taken by a visitor to the

island in the 2000s, clearly shows a wooden cross heavily embedded with coins.

According to local historian Kieran McCarthy, from the early 20th

century this

custom began to spread to the trees (pers. comm. 22/12/2011). Local resident and

custodian of Gougane Barra, Finbarr Lucey, describes a ‘magnificent ash tree’ in the

main cells enclosure, which was embedded with so many coins that it eventually

died. It stood beside the cross already described as being similarly encrusted with

coins, but it fell in a storm in 1973 (pers. comm. 20/12/2011). Both the remains of

the coin-tree and the cross have since been removed.

The custom of coin insertion has been discouraged by the custodians of the island

who, considering the fate of the original coin-tree, have been attempting to protect

other trees from similar copper poisoning (Finbarr Lucey, pers. comm. 24/02/2012).

McCarthy informs me that this decision to discourage the custom was made by the

local church committee, who ‘wished to clean up the site’s appearance’ (pers. comm.

22/12/2011); they subsequently attached a sign to the current primary coin-tree,

stating: ‘I AM A TREE; PLEASE DO NOT PUT COINS INTO ME’. This sign,

however, was no longer attached to the tree on my visit in September 2012; only the

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nails used to attach it remain and visitors have evidently not been discouraged. On

the day of my fieldwork, there were seven trees and a wooden post embedded with

coins.

In Ardboe, however, in contrast to the above examples, this process of substitution

was actively fostered by custodians. When the original tree fell in the 1970s,

participants transferred their attention to an adjacent mature beech, and when this

was brought down by a storm in 1997, a replacement beech was planted by the local

council in the hope (as of yet fruitless) that the custom would continue. This process

of fostered substitution is clearly evident at another coin-tree site: Fore, Co.

Westmeath (described in more detail in Chapter 6) (Appendix 2.20). When the

original coin-tree fell during the 1990s, it was removed by the local council and

replaced by a young ash tree, which was quickly harnessed as a rag-tree.

This method of substitution is certainly not atypical; Lucas gives examples of other

sacred trees in Ireland decaying and falling, leading to the ‘adoption’ of nearby trees

as their replacements (1963: 36). Wilks opines that ‘the lore of a tree would be so

compulsive that it was replaced in perpetuity when death or accident removed it’

(1972: 18), while Hartland, appearing rather disapproving of this process, notes that

‘the reason for the sacredness of many trees or wells has passed from memory; and it

has consequently been natural to substitute any tree or any well for a particular one’

(1893: 469-470).

In some cases, however, replacement trees are not always available; Hand, for

example, notes that in the absence of trees, practitioners of tree-centred customs

would employ wooden posts, door jambs, and pieces of wood instead (1966: 67).

This is evident on Snowdon (Appendix 2.35), where the contemporary coin-‘trees’

are actually wooden posts inserted into the ground as helpful supports for climbers;

in the absence of trees, participants have employed these posts instead (Fig. 4).

This form of ritual replacement is evident at Doon Well, Co. Donegal, which was

resorted to for cures during the 19th

century. There was a nearby hazel (Corylus)

utilised as a rag-tree, but the well was situated in a largely treeless landscape, so

when the hazel became so heavily adorned with rags, there was no convenient

replacement tree. Subsequently, people began embedding crutches into the ground

beside the well, and the crutches, which Foley notes are ‘a global metaphor for the

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successful cure’ (2011: 476), transitioned from being ritual offerings to assuming ‘a

new status as an artificial branch around which subsequent visitors wrapped rags and

other offerings’ (Foley 2011: 476) (Fig. 46).

9 – CONTAGIOUS TRANSFER

Trees and their substitutes may have been central to folkloric rituals, but so too were

the rags affixed to their branches. They are not always simple offerings of thanks,

deposited by the pilgrims in exchange for the cure they hope to receive, but are

sometimes perceived as integral to the cure. To some it appears that pieces of

clothing were fastened to trees in the belief that as the cloth rotted, the pilgrim’s

ailment would also fade (Bord and Bord 1985: 59). Another theory holds that the

rag, the remnant of an item of clothing still metonymically linked to its wearer

(Canaan 1927: 104), absorbs the curative spirit of the tree and transfers this back to

the pilgrim through ‘contact magic’.

In the British Isles, however, it is more common, as Hartland informs us, that the

rags are believed to ‘contain the disease of which one desires to be rid’ (1893: 460),

and they are thus transferred to the tree. This notion is an example of ‘contagious

transfer’, a subcategory of Frazer’s ‘sympathetic magic’, whereupon a ‘person is

supposed to influence vegetation sympathetically. He infects trees or plants with

qualities or accidents, good or bad, resembling and derived from his own’ (Frazer

1900: 39).

Skorupski elucidates this form of magic with the following equation: ‘A certain

property, F, is transferred from the initial object, a, to the goal object, b, by some

method of transfer such as surface contact, admixture, incorporation, inhalation, etc.’

(1976: 134). In the case of the rag-tree, the ‘certain property’ is illness; the ‘initial

object’ is the participant/patient; the ‘goal object’ is the tree; and the ‘method of

transfer’ is the tying of a rag. The illness is thus transferred from the person, through

the rag – the ‘vehicle of the disease’, as Hartland terms it (1893: 460) – and into the

tree.

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10 – THE IMPLANTATION OF DISEASE

As noted in Chapter 1, in E. M. Forster’s Howards End (1910), whilst Mrs Wilcox is

describing Howards End to Margaret Schlegel, she mentions that the estate contains

the ‘finest wych-elm in Hertfordshire’. She explains that, for the cure of toothache,

‘country people’ would implant pigs’ teeth into the tree’s trunk (1910 [2000]: 8.61).

This illustrates that it was not only rags which were affixed to trees for folk

remedies; other items – apparently such as pig’s teeth – could also be used.

Additionally, objects were not only attached to trees; they were also inserted into

them, in what Hand describes as a ‘more intimate kind of transference, namely, the

implantation of disease’ (1966: 63). Hand lists three forms of implantation:

‘plugging’, ‘nailing’, and ‘wedging’, all three of which involve physically inserting

objects – which he terms Zwischenträger; the intermediate agents (1966: 65) – into

the bark of a tree in order to ‘plug’ a disease beneath its bark. In the example given

by Forster, the pigs’ teeth are the intermediate agents, but other objects were

similarly ‘plugged’ or ‘wedged’.

Nail-clippings, for example, were used in the remedy for toothache; by wrapping

toe- and fingernails in tissue paper and inserting them into a slit in the bark of an ash

tree before sunrise, the depositor was assured to never suffer from toothache again

(Roud 2003: 481). Ague and whooping-cough, on the other hand, were cured by

plugging a lock of the patient’s hair into a hole bored into a tree (Hand 1966: 64),

whilst another practice involved making a slit in the bark, placing the patient’s blood

into it, and then wedging the slit closed. If the blood was taken from a wart, for

example, then the wart would be cured (Hand 1966: 69).

Metal pins or nails, however, were the most popular ‘vehicles of disease’ in this

ritual of implantation. Knocking nails into an oak tree was a well-known remedy for

toothache in Cornwall; the toothache was believed to transfer into the tree, from the

sufferer, through the nail (Walhouse 1880: 99n; Porteous 1928: 188). Pins were also

employed as cures for warts; pins were inserted into each wart, then into the bark of

an ash tree, transferring the affliction to the tree (Wilks 1972: 121).

The reason for implanting an object into a tree as opposed to simply affixing it to a

branch is fairly obvious; implantation is, as Hand observes, more ‘intimate’ (1966:

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63), and as the disease is implanted into the tree this probably assures a higher

chance of transference. The popularity of metal pins and nails is also quite obvious;

although these objects are less ‘intimate’ than teeth, fingernails, locks of hair, and

blood, they are far more easily inserted due to their sharp, narrow points. However,

there may be an even more incidental reason for the popularity of pins and nails as

vehicles of transference.

In the 1945 edition of the Folklore journal, an anonymous contributor describes the

‘Beaumont Tree’ of Silsoe, Bedfordshire, as follows:

Until thirty or forty years before (i.e. before 1880-90) people in the district

suffering from ague would nail strands of their hair or toe nail clippings to the

tree, to effect a cure…Digging about with my pocket knife in the decayed

wood I found a number of old square handmade nails deep in the trunk and

one with a wisp of hair still wound round it…The other tree was alive and

healthy and also had one or two nails in it. They were protruding from the bark

and so could not have been knocked in at a very remote date (1945: 307)

In this example, hair and toenail clippings are implanted into the tree, but they are

held in place by nails. As the hair and toenails decay over time, the metal nails

remain in place until they are the only objects left implanted into the tree. This may

influence how later pilgrims participate in the custom; if they see only metal nails

inserted into the bark then they may believe that the practice is simply to insert metal

nails (such as the later depositors of nails in the tree close to Beaumont’s Tree).

The same process may have occurred at rag-trees; on Isle Maree, for example,

Hartland describes how the coin-tree was originally ‘covered with nails, to each of

which was formerly attached a portion of the clothing of an afflicted person’ (1893:

453), whilst at Gougane Barra, according to Croker, the rags affixed to the original

wooden pole were ‘braced with many pieces of iron’ (1824: 276-277). Metal nails

transitioned from being fastenings for rags to being offerings themselves, due to

matters of convenience or the simple misinterpretation of a custom. Could this

incidental process also account for why coins eventually became the primary

intermediate agents of ritual implantation?

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11 – COINS AS DEPOSITS

Osborne, in his article on ‘Hoards, votives, offerings: the archaeology of the

dedicated object’ (2004), laments the generic archaeologist’s ‘curious unwillingness

to acknowledge the central importance of the dedicated object’ in deducing the

beliefs behind a custom (2004: 5). This unwillingness, he suggests, stems from three

factors: our privileging of the individual object over the assemblage; the difficulties

involved in proving that an object has actually been dedicated rather than simply lost

or discarded; and our reluctance to study what people believed (2004: 3). Now is not

the time to address the third point (see Chapter 6), but the former two will be

examined here.

How can one recognise a dedicated object? Merrifield offers his opinion: the ritual

deposit is an object ‘deliberately deposited for no obviously practical purpose, but

rather to the detriment of the depositor, who relinquishes something that is often at

least serviceable and perhaps valuable for no apparent reason’ (1987: 22). Another

criterion, which aids in the distinction between deliberate deposition and accidental

loss, is proposed by Dowden who advocates the significance of quantity (2000: 176).

However, specifications designed to distinguish the ritual from the utilitarian are

guilty of identifying dedicated objects by default; as Brück observes in her paper on

ritual and rationality, artefacts ‘which cannot be ascribed a practical role often come

to be interpreted as evidence for ritual practices’ (2007: 284). Brück argues that a

deposited artefact with a perceived lack of functionality does not necessarily

constitute a votive object; functionality is after all, as she asserts, ‘always culturally

defined’ (2007: 298).

Brück, however, is applying this theory to artefacts from the middle Bronze Age;

this thesis, on the other hand, considers largely contemporary objects, which makes a

significant difference. Not only are we better equipped to interpret action undertaken

in our own times and cultures, but in the case of the contemporary coin-tree, the

motives of the depositors can be ascertained through direct engagement with them

(see Chapter 6). Taking all of this into consideration, therefore, there can be little

doubt that the coins inserted into coin-trees are ‘ritual’ deposits. Intentionality is

certainly evident; there is no conceivable practical purpose for their insertion into

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these trees; they are serviceable objects; and there are a multitude (in some cases,

tens of thousands) of examples in each tree.

However, the question remains, as asked by Osborne: ‘Why did anyone think that

depositing this or that particular object or group of objects was an appropriate way of

marking or establishing communications with transcendent powers?’ (2004: 7).

Some dedicated objects were obviously designed and crafted as dedicated objects –

medieval pilgrim badges, for example, or candles adorned with Christian imagery.

For other dedicated objects, however, this is not the case, and the coin of the coin-

tree falls into this category. It is an object that was made for secular, everyday use

and has been, to use Osborne’s words, ‘“converted” into an item that might be

employed in an exchange with supernatural powers’ (2004: 2) (a process explored in

greater detail in Chapter 5).

Why, though, is the coin deemed suitable in such an exchange? This is no doubt in

part due to the plethora of other such ritual exchanges for which the coin has been

utilised; the coin is, after all, one of history’s most popular votive offerings. Coins

have been a highly common ritual deposit in Britain since the Roman period, with

caches discovered containing hundreds – some even thousands, such as at Lydney,

Gloucestershire; Hallaton, southeast Leicestershire; and the sacred spring at Bath –

of votive coins (Lewis 1966: 47; Woodward 1992: 66; Dowden 2000: 176; Priest et

al. 2003; Williams 2003; Score 2006, 2011; Leins 2007). The coin was also an object

regularly deposited in springs and lakes, as offerings to deities (Dowden 2000: 51) or

as propitiatory ‘sacrifices’ to malignant water spirits (Tuleja 1991: 409).

The coin’s association with luck and good fortune has also enjoyed a long history. A

coin of Trajan (r.98-117 AD), for example, was discovered in the mast-step of a 2nd

-

century AD Roman boat from Blackfriars, London, probably placed there for luck

(Laing 1969: 293), while thirty gold and silver coins were found in association with

skeletons on the ship The Mary Rose, believed to have been carried onboard for good

luck (Hall 2012: 77). Another tradition contended that a coin should always be

placed in the pocket of any new article of clothing in order to attract future fortune

(Radford and Radford 1948: 105), a practice which has evolved today into the

custom of never gifting a purse without placing coins inside. Many other coin-related

traditions continue to be observed; coins are still employed as talismans (Albas and

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Albas 1989: 608) and continue to be considered symbols of luck: you are

purportedly ensured good luck if you ‘find a penny and pick it up’; place a coin in

every corner of your house; toss a coin into a fountain; cook a coin in your

Christmas pudding, and so on and so forth.

12 – THE BOWED COIN

The ‘bowed’ or ‘crooked’ coin – a coin deliberately bent (Figs. 47-48) – is one of the

most widespread coin-centred customs in the British Isles, and it was utilised for a

number of purposes. To fold a penny in half, as Finucane describes, was a ‘common

sickbed rite’ (1977: 94); accompanied by prayers, coins were often bent while held

over a reclining patient. This rite, however, was employed for more than healing;

bowed coins were considered good luck charms and apotropaic devices.

From the 16th

century onwards, such coins were carried, worn, or given as gifts to

protect against bad luck (Roud 2003: 314). As Hardwick observes, in folk notions,

‘crooked things are lucky things’ (1872: 270), and this belief is evident in several

traditions. During the reign of King Edward I (r.1272-1307), pennies were ritually

bent once a year to ensure the welfare of the king’s hawks (Finucane 1977: 94),

whilst in Yorkshire, bowed coins were utilised as charms against witchcraft; if a

dairymaid, for example, was having difficulty churning butter – a difficulty often

attributed to witchcraft – she would drop a crooked sixpence into the cream to ward

off malevolent forces (Merrifield 1987: 162).

An equally common motivation behind the bending of a coin was the confirmation

of a vow. In Thomas Killigrew’s 17th

-century play, Thomaso, the main character

refers to ‘the bowed Two-pence’ whilst speaking of a vow (2.9.11) (1664: 441), and

the fact that this custom was mentioned only in passing implies that it was relatively

well known (Roud 2003: 314). These vows were usually made during prayers to

saints (Walsham 2011: 213), imploring their help and promising, in exchange for

their prayers being answered, to go on pilgrimage to the saint’s shrine, taking the

bowed coin with them as an offering. The bending of the coin in this case, therefore,

is to distinguish it from other coins; the vow-maker has promised to offer that

particular coin (Spencer 1978: 248).

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The bending of a coin seems to have derived from the pagan practice of ‘sacrificing’

an object to be devoted (Merrifield 1987: 91; Bradley 1990; Dowden 2000: 176; Hall

2012: 79-80). There is much archaeological evidence for the sacrificing of inanimate

objects, recognisable as ‘sacrifices’ due to a destructive element evinced by the

material record, which Insoll proposes as the ‘defining criteria’ of sacrifice (2011:

151). Examples of this include the votive bending of weapons and tools, such as the

deliberately broken or bent metal objects deposited during the Iron Age in the lake at

Llyn Cerrig Bach, Anglesey (Fox 1946: 69), and during the early Roman period in

the Waltham Abbey hoard, Essex (Manning 1972).

As Bradley writes, the physical destruction of objects is central to the act of offering

them, for it makes them irretrievable to the depositor, nullifies their secular value,

and thus wholly dedicates them to their spiritual cause (1990: 138). Brück also

suggests that intentional destruction – which she terms ‘fragmentation’ – can be

‘thought to facilitate transformation from one state to another’ (2006: 297): in the

case of a coin, therefore, the act of damaging it may be to aid its transition from

secular item to ritual deposit.

13 – TOUCH-PIECES

The most common folkloric use of coins in the British Isles was in folk-medicine,

and another notable example of this was the touch-piece (Fig. 49). From the time of

Edward the Confessor (r.1042-66) to Queen Anne (r.1702-14), English monarchs

would ritually ‘touch’ – and purportedly heal – patients suffering from scrofula, a

form of tuberculosis known as ‘King’s or Queen’s Evil’, so named for the belief that

only the monarch could cure it. The patient would be presented with a touch-piece, a

coin pierced with a hole and hung on a white ribbon, which would be worn by the

patient; if they removed the touch-piece the disease would return (Charlton 1914: 34;

Anonymous 2003: 1234).

Prior to the 15th

century, a variety of silver or gold coins were used in this ritual

(Waddle 1909: 249), but in 1464 the ‘angel’ was minted. It was the smallest gold

coin in circulation, so named for the image it bore of the Archangel Michael

(Anonymous 2003: 1234). A pamphlet written in 1686, The Ceremonies for the

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Healing of Them that be Diseased with the King’s Evil used in the Time of King

Henry VII, describes the ritual in which it was used: ‘the king shall be crossing the

sore of the sick Person, with an Angel of Gold Noble, and the sick Person to have the

same Angel hang’d about his neck, and to wear it until he be full whole’

(Anonymous 1686: 6). This ritual is also referred to in Shakespeare’s Macbeth, in

which Malcolm describes how ‘a golden stamp’ – the ‘angel’ – was used by the king

in healing ceremonies: ‘The mere despair of surgery, he cures, Hanging a golden

stamp about their necks’ (4.3.151-152).

This use of coins as charms is hardly without precedent; there is a wealth of

archaeological evidence for the physical modification of coins in order to wear them

as amulets and talismans, such as piercing them with holes and hanging them by a

cord, from the late-antique period until the 20th

century (Maguire 1997: 1040-1041;

Davidson 2004; Hall 2012: 82). During the late Middle Ages soldiers also wore

coins for protection on the battlefield, either around their necks or attached to their

helmets (Deng 2008: 167). Other beliefs imbue coins with what Maguire terms

‘extramonetary powers’ (1997: 1053); coins given at Holy Communion, for

example, were believed to cure rheumatism if rubbed on the sufferer’s body (Waring

1978: 63) and worn around the neck as a cure for epilepsy (Radford and Radford

1948: 293; Davidson 2004: 27).

In some cases, specific coins were employed in folk-medicine. The ‘Lockerby

Penny’ is one example; this was a flat piece of silver owned by a family in

Lockerbie, Dumfries and Galloway, which was widely esteemed as a remedy for

madness in cattle. The family would loan the ‘penny’ to other farmers in the area,

who would dip the coin into the afflicted animal’s drinking water (Henderson 1879:

163; Radford and Radford 1948: 223). There was a similar coin in Northumberland,

the ‘Black Penny’, which was a coin or medal owned by a family at Hume-Byers,

used to cure madness in cattle and borrowed by farmers across Northumberland,

Durham, and Yorkshire (Henderson 1879: 163; Radford and Radford 1948: 55).

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14 – THE COIN’S ‘AMULETIC QUALITY’

Is there a reason coins were so often imbued with these ‘extramonetary powers’?

Clark notes that a material ‘owes its status to physical attributes’ (1986: 6), a notion

shared by Miller, who advises that any analysis of an artefact must ‘begin with its

most obvious characteristic’ (1987: 98). Because coins are such ubiquitous,

commonplace objects, we tend to not look at them in any great detail. In fact,

because coins are largely perceived as denotations of value, they are viewed as

currency as opposed to material objects (Rothschild 1981; Myrberg 2010a; Kemmer

and Myrberg 2011), and it becomes easy to overlook their physical attributes.

However, it may be these physical attributes which give coins what Hall terms their

‘amuletic quality’ (2012: 79).

Deng, for instance, believes that it was the coins’ ‘combination of precious metal,

royal effigy, and “magical” inscription [that] made them suitable for healing

purposes’ (2008: 164). Taking his first point, the physical material of a coin plays a

large role in its ‘amuletic quality’. Certain materials have been widely regarded as

special (Woodward 2000: 109), and the association between metal-making and

magic is evident throughout history (Budd and Taylor 1995; Brück 2006: 306), with

Eliade dedicating an entire chapter, entitled ‘Divine Smiths and Civilizing Heroes’,

to the privileged positions of smiths worldwide and the sense of mysticism

surrounding them (1956: 87-96).

In the British Isles, metal – particularly iron or steel – was considered apotropaic,

often employed to ward off fairies or witches (Henderson 1879: 230; Lawrence

1898; Campbell 2005: 19, 25). It was believed that no fairy would steal a child with

a steel needle in its cap (Hull 1928: 134), while other metal objects were displayed

within the home as repellents for malevolent forces: iron nails in the board of a bed;

a reaping-hook beneath the window; a horse-shoe nailed to the wall (Lawrence 1898;

McPherson 1929: 101; Campbell 1990: 19, 24). In McPherson’s opinion, the

protective powers of these metal objects ‘springs from the time when iron was a new

and mysterious metal’ (1929: 101), and was thus imbued with supernatural

properties.

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Iron was also considered remedial. Broadwood considers how pieces of the metal

were frequently placed into water because it was believed to give it a tonic property:

‘Was the custom of throwing pins, needles, and other metal things into Holy or

Wishing Wells originally started with the idea of strengthening the drinker?’ (1898:

368), she asks, and this may indeed have been one reason behind the custom.

However, other metals were more widely considered curative.

The touch-piece was a gold coin not simply because of the material’s monetary value

but because gold was widely held to be naturally curative, and Billings suggests that

the constant contact of the gold touch-piece with the skin of the patient as it hung at

the neck may have been a primary factor in the subsequent curing of these patients; a

form of ‘Metallotherapy’ (1906: 70). Indeed, there are numerous examples of gold

being utilised as a remedy. Roger Bacon, a 13th

-century Franciscan friar, maintained

that the consumption of gold ensured good health and longevity (Getz 1998: 58),

whilst Paracelsus, a 16th

-century physician and alchemist, asserted that aurum

potabile, a formula for drinkable gold, could cure even the Black Death (Pagel 1982:

180; Crisciani and Pereira 1998; Byrne 2012: 257).

Similarly, in 19th

-century Scotland, water into which a piece of gold had been

deposited, known as Uisge Or or Long John, was used widely as a panacea, either

drank or applied as a lotion (MacDonald 1903: 371-372). Also in the 19th

century,

golden rings were utilised throughout the British Isles as remedies for a wide variety

of ailments, from warts to bacterial infections. According to folklorist Black, writing

in the 1880s, ‘the virtues of a gold wedding ring for curts, warts, and styes, are

celebrated throughout Christendom’ (1883: 173).

The majority of coins deposited into holy wells – and, indeed, coin-trees – however,

are not gold coins, but copper. Like gold, copper is a material widely imbued with

apotropaic and remedial properties. Copper amulets were worn for protection against

danger and disease (Herbert 1984: 263ff), and medieval skeletons have been

discovered wearing copper-alloy bracelets, believed to reduce swelling (Gilmour and

Stocker 1986: 41; Stones 1989: 159), or copper-alloy plates, possibly employed as

talismans chosen for their curative properties (Knüsel et al. 1995) – curative

properties which are, in fact, supported by science.

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The contents of Karcioğlu and Sarper’s (1980) edited medical volume demonstrate

how copper affects the gastrointestinal system; hematology; the cardiovascular

system; the nervous system; and dermatology. Copper salts are bactericidal and can

be employed as disinfectants, thus making them useful for treating bacterial

infections (Cameron 1993: 118-121; Knüsel et al. 1995: 380; Brennessel et al. 2005:

184). Additionally, copper’s anti-inflammatory effects have made it a popular

medicinal ingredient throughout history, with the early cultures of Assyria, Greece,

Rome, Egypt, and possibly Native America employing copper remedially (Karcioğlu

and Sarper 1980: xiii; Rij and Pories 1980: 555; Fox 2003: 10).

Possibly for similar reasons, Bald’s Leechbook, an Old English medical text,

stipulates that the ingredients for numerous remedies should be mixed and stored in

brass – a copper-zinc alloy (Brennessel et al. 2005) – vessels. Although Storms

opines that this stipulation belonged to the ‘sphere of magic’ (1948: 134), Cameron

asserts that it was the copper salts formed in the brass vessels, held to be

antibacterial, which motivated the specification (1993: 120-122). This belief most

likely led to the popularity of copper as a therapeutic agent, in the form of copper

bracelets, during the 19th

century – a practice which survives to the present day (Fox

2003: 11; Shuttleworth 2010).

15 – THE ROYAL EFFIGY

The royal effigy engraved on most coins is also considered highly contributive to the

coin’s ‘extramonetary powers’ and ‘amuletic quality’, as a form of image magic

(Herva et al. 2012: 302). From the classical through to the Byzantine periods, the

images of rulers depicted on coins were considered protective agents (Maguire 1997:

1039; Deng 2008: 167-168), and the belief that monarchs are endowed with

protective, curative powers is a particularly long-standing one. Vespasian (r.69-79

AD), for instance, was said to have restored sight to the blind and healed the limbs of

the lame (Billings 1906: 62), and the royal touch continued to be viewed as

particularly efficacious far beyond antiquity – as is evident in touch-piece

ceremonies.

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In England, coinage was imprinted with the royal effigy in recognisable form from

the reign of Henry VII (r.1485-1509) (Robinson 1992: 1), and this effigy – an

undeniable connection with a monarch who, by divine right, wielded the power to

heal – endowed coins with curative powers (Bloch 1973: 222-223). Crowns and half-

crowns bearing the effigy of Charles I (r.1625-1649) were handed down from one

generation to the next in the Shetland Islands until the 19th

century, believed to be

remedies against scrofula (Bloch 1973: 223), whilst in Scotland, coins minted during

the reign of Queen Victoria (r.1837-1901) were, according to Bloch, ‘held to be

universal panaceas simply because they bore ‘the image of the Queen’’ (1973: 223).

The coin’s preternatural potency, therefore, is in part due to the protective properties

of the royal effigy as well as to the materials it is made from. However, whilst an

examination of the physical attributes of a coin have been illuminating in the

consideration of its ‘amuletic quality’, I have run the risk of taking the advice of

Clark (1986: 6), Miller (1987: 98), and Rothschild (1981) too far, in analysing the

coin as a purely material object, for it is equally significant that the coin has abstract,

representational qualities also.

16 – COINS AND VALUE

‘Money is what money does’, remarks economist Wolman (2012: 12), and what

money does is declare value (Dowden 2000: 176). This is the coin’s primary

purpose; as ‘an abstract means of according value’, according to Macdonald (2002:

90). No other object is quite so intrinsically linked with worth and, more

importantly, with exchange (Shils 1981: 73; Schlichter 2011: 21). Coins are

surrendered in exchange for commodities or services (Kopytoff 1986), and it is this

very purpose which makes the coin a particularly suitable ritual deposit.

As demonstrated throughout this chapter, participation in a ritual tends to imply a

desire for something in return – a folk-remedy, good luck, future fortune, the

protection of a saint, spirit, or deity, etc. – and so rituals necessarily follow the same

basic, economic rules as secular exchange, as described by Appadurai: ‘one’s desire

for an object is fulfilled by the sacrifice of some other object’ (1986: 3). When

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engaged in such an exchange, it is surely only natural to sacrifice the object most

overtly and intrinsically associated with value and trade: the coin.

‘In a commercial age,’ writes Merrifield, ‘coins tend to play an important part in the

minor ritual practised by individuals’ (1987: 54). In simple terms, if a person wants

something, it is assumed they will pay for it with money, and this modern-day

mentality has spread from the secular realm into the spiritual. This exchange

mentality is most evident with holy wells, into which coins were often thrown as

‘payment’ to the presiding spirit or saint (Brand 1777: 85-86; Hardwick 1872: 277;

Walker 1883: 158; Hartland 1893: 463; Rhys and Morris 1893: 58-59; Hull 1928:

111-112; Jones 1954: 92; Lucas 1963: 40; Bord and Bord 1985: 90-91). This custom

has survived today in the form of the ‘wishing well’, widespread across the British

Isles.

In some rituals, coins are unabashedly used for their financial worth; at holy wells,

offerings were often cast into the wells themselves, but sometimes money was

handed instead to the sites’ guardians (Hull 1928: 107; Dowden 2000: 47), the local

parish priest, or placed in a box in a nearby church, in exchange for the use of the

well (Jones 1954: 93). As Bord and Bord write, the ‘custom of leaving an ‘offering’

at a holy well was not overlooked by the Church, and some clergy took steps to see

that the money was directed their way’ (1985: 91).

Today especially money plays a large role in what Eade and Sallnow term ‘sacred

exchanges’ (1991: 24); at modern-day pilgrimage sites, such as Lourdes in south-

western France, ‘cash donations to the shrine custodians, purchases of candles, alms

to beggars, indeed all kinds of monetary offerings can be fully incorporated into the

religious marketing circuits of the shrine’ (Eade and Sallnow 1991: 24).

17 – REVERSING VALUE

Coins are, in conclusion, employed for such purposes because of their folkloric and

historic associations, their physical attributes, and their secular, everyday purposes,

all of which culminate to produce the ideal object for ritual exchange. However,

coins have not always been at the forefront of folkloric customs in the British Isles.

Although they are listed as items deposited in holy wells during the 18th

and 19th

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centuries (Brand 1777: 85-86; Hardwick 1872: 277; Walker 1883: 158; Hartland

1893: 463; Rhys and Morris 1893: 58-59; Hull 1928: 111-112; Jones 1954: 92;

Lucas 1963: 40; Mercer 1974: 191; Bord and Bord 1985: 90-91), coins are just one

type of offering amongst many, including rags, ribbons, beads, buckles, buttons,

keys, to name only some.

Indeed, some holy wells contained no coins at all. Hartland describes St. Baglan’s

Well in Llanfalglan, Caernarvonshire, which was apparently emptied in the early

1800s: ‘two basins-full of pins were taken out, but no coin of any kind’ (1893: 453).

Describing another holy well, in Perthshire, Hartland exhibits surprise upon

discovering coins deposited there: ‘Sometimes [participants] go as far as to throw

away their halfpence’ (1893: 463), he exclaims, demonstrating that the deposition of

a coin was perceived as an extreme form of participation.

Likewise, whilst the custom of affixing rags to trees was widespread throughout the

British Isles during the 1800s, only one 19th

-century example of inserting coins into

trees has been identified: Isle Maree (Appendix 2.26). Indeed, the Isle Maree case-

study appears to have been employed as a rag-tree for many years prior to its

emergence as a coin-tree. Evidently, strips of cloth were deemed more appropriate

offerings than coins during this time, and it is not surprising that most 19th

-century

participants (in contrast with 21st-century participants) were more willing to part

with rags than with coins.

Value is subjective (Simmel 1900; Thompson 1979), and, although the economic

worth of a coin may appear fixed and stable, it is as fluid and mutable as any other

object. Wernimont and Fitzpatrick (1972), and Brandstätter and Brandstätter (1996),

in their respective studies on the subjective value of money, demonstrate how such

factors as income, gender, social class, and personality traits greatly influence how

an individual perceives the value of money. Just as the value of money varies from

person to person, it is also contingent upon time period. Inflation has meant that a

coin’s worth will inevitably decrease over time. A study by the Office for National

Statistics of the consumer price index from 1750 to 2003 demonstrates that average

prices have gradually been multiplied by 140; and as prices increase, the value of a

coin decreases. A one decimal penny, for example, would have had greater

purchasing power in 1750 than a £1 in 2003 (O’Donoghue and Goulding 2004: 38).

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In the past, therefore, coins were more valuable and less ubiquitous, and it is

unsurprising that 19th

-century participants would be less inclined than a modern-day

participant to part with a one penny piece. On the other hand, objects such as rags,

nails, pins, locks of hair, and fingernails were more readily accessible and disposable

than coins, making them far more convenient offerings. And, as mentioned briefly

above, convenience plays a large role in rituals of deposition; as Walhouse observes,

a pilgrim may by necessity source their deposit from ‘any trivial objects ready at

hand’ (1880: 104).

Henderson offers an example of this: St. Mary’s Well, Culloden, was visited by

pilgrims who believed that drinking water from the well and then depositing a coin

ensured good luck for the following year. Henderson, observing the rites performed

at this site in c.1899, describes a group of boys who drank from the well:

But, alas! the ceremony is left in some degree uncompleted, for on

examination it is found that no member of the group possesses a solitary

copper. This part of the rule is thereupon brushed aside. But the tying of

pieces of cloth on the tree is strictly observed, for, beside costing nothing, it

gives each boy an opportunity of indulging in a little tree-climbing… (1911:

323)

Hulse (1995) offers another, more contemporary example of convenience playing a

large role in the selection of items for deposition. Examining St. Trillo’s Well,

Llandrillo-yn-Rhos, Hulse found that offerings of prayers, which had begun to be left

at the holy well since 1992, were a ‘spontaneous and imitative gesture’ (1995: 33);

people visiting the chapel, seeing the past deposits and wishing to add their own,

were forced to write their prayers on scraps of paper sourced from pockets and

handbags: portions of envelopes, pages torn from diaries, receipts, and transport

tickets. In many cases, therefore, matters of convenience and improvisation

determine the nature of objects deposited – and throughout the 18th

and 19th

centuries, coins were evidently not, to use Walhouse’s words, ‘trivial objects ready

at hand’ (1893: 461).

However, throughout the last century a reversal has occurred. As a coin’s economic

value decreased, its utilisation as an object of ritual exchange increased at an

inversely proportional rate. Coins became more commonplace to the point where the

majority of people usually have some coins in their possession, so that if they wish

to participate in a ritual which necessitates the ‘sacrificing’ of an object, a coin is the

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most convenient object for that purpose. As one participant in the coin-tree custom at

High Force speculated, when asked why he believed people chose to insert coins into

the tree: ‘maybe because they’re just convenient’; whilst an American participant at

Tarn Hows opined that ‘it might just be because coins are pretty handy, aren’t they?

You’ve always got some’.

The custodian of the St. Nectan’s Glen coin-trees, Lawrence Barker, demonstrates

this reversal in his personal consideration of the custom. At this site, the coin-trees

are accompanied by several rag-trees, the branches of which are primarily affixed

with ribbons, and Lawrence believes that the coin-trees were created by ‘people who

had no ribbons or other offerings but still had a wish to make’ (pers. comm.

09/11/2012). In his opinion, therefore, coins are the substitute deposits; few people

today will have ribbons ready at hand or would be willing to tear off a scrap of their

clothing, but it is likely that they will be carrying coins. Henderson’s 19th

-century

example at St. Mary’s Well, where the group of boys could only tie rags to the

branch of a tree because they did not have the coins to deposit in the well, is thus

inverted.

Coins have not only become more readily available in contemporary society; they

have also become more disposable. Coins, particularly one penny and two pence

pieces, are no longer perceived as embodying much value, to the extent that many

people in Britain believe copper coins should be removed from circulation

(Dammann 2012). Dammann, reporting on this decline in value for the Guardian in

2012, describes copper coins as ‘the useless, practically valueless bits of copper-

plated steel which weigh down our pockets and clog up our vacuum cleaners’

(2012). Whilst Wolman, observing that pennies offer very little in both the store of

value and as a medium of exchange, wryly notes that people no longer even tax

themselves by retrieving a penny found on the pavement: ‘Economists will tell you

that it’s not even worth the time and financial hazard involved in stooping down to

pick it up, possibly resulting in a back injury’ (2012: 4).

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18 – DEBUNKING THE ‘DISENCHANTMENT’

Coins’ ubiquity and decreased economic worth has meant that they have, over the

last century, become ‘trivial objects ready at hand’ (Walhouse 1893: 461), making

them the most appropriate and convenient deposits in the contemporary rituals of the

British Isles. This explains why they replaced rags, nails, and other objects at Isle

Maree, Clonenagh, Ardboe, and Gougane Barra, and subsequently contribute to an

explanation of the emergence of this custom in the 19th

/early-20th

centuries.

However, the majority of coin-trees in the British Isles did not emerge in the

19th

/early-20th

centuries; they were not originally associated with holy wells and did

not gradually transition into coin-trees from (or function as replacements of) previous

incarnations: rag-trees, nail-trees, and so on. Of the 34 coin-tree sites recorded in this

thesis, only one (Isle Maree) definitely pre-dates the 20th

century, and only five more

definitely pre-date the 1990s (Ardboe, Ardmaddy, Clonenagh, Fore, and Gougane

Barra). The remaining 28 sites (82%) are contemporary creations, having been coined

in the 1990s, 2000s, and 2010s, and this contemporaneity complicates their

interpretation.

It was outlined in Chapter 1 that folklore is often not believed to have survived the

transition into modernity. Historically, folk customs have been widely perceived as

fragile, tenuous, and endangered phenomena, and the processes of urbanisation and

industrialisation are often held accountable for what Weber heralds the

‘disenchantment of the world’, a world now ‘characterized by rationalisation and

intellectualization’ (1948: 155). According to Foster, writing in the 1950s, industrial

economies ‘are not conducive to the continuation of folk culture. Hence, it can be

assumed that folk cultures will disappear in those places where a high degree of

industrialization develops’ (1952: 171), whilst for Bascom, it was technological

developments that led to this supposed decline: ‘folklore has decreased

as...mechanical devices such as phonographs, radios, moving pictures, and television

have developed’ (1965: 296).

Redner took a similar stance 50 years later, attributing the purported loss of local,

native culture to ‘cultural homogenization...which we now describe by that ominous

term “globalization.”’ (2004: 2). The Western world has, Redner asserts, become a

‘monoculture’, in which no local traditions or customs can survive (2004: 2). Redner

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and his predecessors paint a rather dour picture, and while not all folklorists concur

with this perspective (McKelvie 1963; Dundes and Pagter 1975; Dorson 1976), the

general consensus appears to be that folklore is far less prolific in the Western world

than it once was.

It is certainly true that some customs have fallen out of use. Returning to the wych-

elm embedded with pigs’ teeth in Forster’s Howards End (1910), Mrs Wilcox

dolefully notes that the ‘teeth are almost grown over now, and no one comes to the

tree’, to which Margaret Schlegel replies, ‘I should. I love folklore and all festering

superstitions’ (1910 [2000]: 8.61). This exchange indicates that by the early 20th

century, such folk practices of implantation had largely declined and were

considered ‘festering superstitions’. However, the coin-tree custom would not be

conceived of us as such; the majority of the coin-trees are contemporary structures,

the products of participation by large numbers of modern-day practitioners.

The contemporary coin-tree therefore confutes the claims that industrialisation,

urbanisation, globalisation, and technological advancements would result in the

‘disenchantment’ of the British Isles. However, should it be viewed, as Peter at

Portmeirion opined (detailed above), as a ‘continuation of an old custom’; as

evidence that it is ‘in our DNA to do things like this, to carry them on. Like throwing

coins into a fountain; something we may not really believe in anymore but we do it

just because we’ve always done it’?

Walsham would advise against this interpretation, advocating that it is misguided to

view customs as ‘the ‘debris’ of pagan mythologies that had defiantly survived from

distant antiquity into modern times in a state of arrested development’ (2011: 474).

Landy and Saler, considering ‘secular magic’ in contemporary society, likewise

reject this binary notion that ‘any lingering enchantment within Western culture must

of necessity be a relic, a throwback’ (2009: 3) The coin-trees, therefore, should not

be interpreted as ‘survivals’, ‘relics’, or ‘debris’ from the past.

On the other hand, however, a custom does not simply spring forth from a vacuum.

As Hugoson asserts in her study of the Swedish Easter Tree, which – like many coin-

trees – appears to have been created post-1990, such a custom can be interpreted as a

‘familiar unknown’; ‘the mere need for new “traditions” is not enough to explain its

popularity and success, but rather that it is perceived as being new and old

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simultaneously’ (2006: 82-83). The majority of the coin-trees may be contemporary

structures, but their popularity may be attributed to the (accurate) belief that they

grow from the foundations of past meanings and customs.

However, the modern-day coin-tree is not a testament to the continuity of a custom;

they were not being un-intermittently generated from the 19th

century to the present

day. Instead, there was sporadic creation of coin-trees in Scotland and Ireland

throughout the 19th

and 20th

centuries, but as Appendix 2.4 demonstrates, the custom

does not appear to have existed in England and Wales prior to the late 1990s/early

2000s, when there was a sudden leap in coin-tree creation. Indeed, there is evidence

that older coin-trees witnessed a boost in the custom during the same period; the

empirical data collected from the primary Ardmaddy coin-tree (including both coins

within the tree and uncovered during excavation) demonstrates a sharp increase in

the custom during the 1990s (Appendices 2.9 & 5.7). The second section of this

chapter will therefore be a consideration of what could account for the contemporary

renaissance of this custom.

PART 2: THE CONTEMPORARY RENAISSANCE

1 – THE CONTEMPORARY COIN-TREE

There can be no definitive answer to the question of which contemporary coin-tree

was coined first. Perhaps the forester at Bolton Abbey was the first late-20th

-century

practitioner of this custom; as the dental nurse at Hardcastle Crags and the local boys

at Fairy Glen could have been. However, attempts to contact – or even elicit the

names of – these elusive, purported instigators have invariably failed. Other

strategies may be used instead, such as drawing on the testimonies of custodians,

which would indicate that the sites of Bolton Abbey (pers. comm. Moira Smith,

visitors manager, 11/11/2011), Lydford Gorge (pers. comm. Adrian Shaw, senior

ranger, 03/04/2012), or Tarr Steps (pers. comm. Graeme McVittie, woodland officer,

16/01/2012) were the earliest, believed to have been initially coined in the 1990s.

However, as will be explored in Chapter 6, there is often a tendency (even amongst

professionals) to over-estimate a coin-tree’s age, therefore the testaments of

custodians may not be wholly accurate. Also, many custodians could not provide

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estimated dates of creation for their coin-trees and, as discussed in Chapter 3, the

dating evidence provided by the coins may be equally unreliable. At the present

time, therefore, it is not possible to determine when – and certainly not why – the

first contemporary coin-tree was coined, nor who the original instigator was.

Circumstances surrounding the inauguration of the coin-tree renaissance may remain

obscure, but the rapid rate of dissemination which soon followed is clearly evident.

Following the creation of a few coin-trees during the 1990s, the 2000/2010s

witnessed a considerable and widespread revival. This dissemination is undoubtedly

due to imitation (explored in greater detail in Chapter 5); an individual/group

encounters a coin-tree at one site and they subsequently instigate another coin-tree at

a different site. However, the processes of dissemination in this case are surprising.

Map 4 (Appendix 1.2) displays all coin-tree sites which have a relatively reliable

estimated coining date (either drawn from published material or the testimonies of

custodians), and this demonstrates not only a rapid rate of dissemination, but also a

rather sporadic one. Whilst the ‘non-contemporary’ (i.e. pre-1990s) coin-trees are

clearly exclusive to Scotland and Ireland, the data for the contemporary coin-trees

provides neither a clear point of origin nor an obvious pattern of distribution. Older

contemporary coin-trees (Bolton Abbey, Lydford Gorge, Tarr Steps) are present in

northern England as well as southern, as are the younger sites (Claife Station, Leigh

Woods, Corfe Castle). This suggests that the dispersion of coin-trees was the result

of numerous nexuses and simultaneous networks of dissemination, rather than a

single, linear thread originating from one point.

Not only does this complex network of dissemination make following Whately’s

advice to ‘read superstition backwards’ more difficult, it also indicates that the

reasons behind this modern-day renaissance were not region-specific, but were

applicable to many areas of the British Isles. What contemporary countrywide

factors, therefore, could account for the successful and rapidly-disseminated revival

of the coin-tree custom? The first point to consider is the participants themselves.

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2 – THE CULT OF THE CHILD

From my ethnographic observations, the current participants of the coin-tree custom

are many and varied. As is evident in Appendices 4.3-4.5, which present the

demographic data of the 219 participants interviewed, this custom is not exclusive to

a certain gender, age-group, or race. Participation is dependent upon one factor:

physical presence at a coin-tree site, and as the majority of coin-trees are located

beside popular footpaths in rural areas, the majority of participants are consequently

the type of people who are likely to engage in leisurely walking: predominantly

white British couples and families, although not exclusively.

There is, however, one primary participatory group of this custom: children. My

observations revealed that a group travelling with children is far less likely to pass a

coin-tree without inserting a coin than a group travelling without children. One

woman told me that she could not ‘imagine just walking past one of these trees,

especially not with children’, whilst a father claimed, ‘I don’t think the children

would let me walk past without putting coins in’.

Many of the groups with children claimed to have only inserted coins for the benefit

of the children: ‘because the boys wanted to’; ‘my daughter wanted to’; ‘for the kids’

sake’, and so on. It is not surprising that the custom of the coin-tree appears to be

very much oriented towards the entertainment of the younger generation. As Opie

and Opie observe, ‘it is the nature of children to be attracted by the mysterious’

(1959: 210), and they maintain that children are ‘tradition’s warmest friends…they

are respecters, even venerators, of custom’ (1959: 22). Indeed, the majority of

widely-practiced folkloric traditions in contemporary Britain are observed for the

benefit of children: Father Christmas, Easter egg hunts, trick-or-treating.

However, children have not always been central to folkloric customs. Indeed,

childhood has not always been viewed as distinct from adulthood; that their actions

are marginalised from those of adults is a relatively modern, Western notion (Sofaer

2007: 88; Baxter 2008: 161). In the past children were not sheltered from adult

responsibilities and experiences but partook in them, and it has only been within the

last century that childhood has begun to be perceived as a period of honoured

innocence (deMause 1974; Borrowdale 1994: 24). This ‘sentimentalization’ and

‘sacralization’ of childhood (Zelizer 1985; Sofaer Derevenski 2000: 4) created a

113

society wherein children are central to family culture, and much effort goes into

catering to their needs whilst simultaneously maintaining their innocence for as long

as possible (Wells 1991: 430).

The ability of the coin-tree custom to address the contemporary parent’s desire to

cater to children’s cultural and educational needs was demonstrated in several

participant interviews. Parents seem to believe that participation in the coin-tree

custom will be ‘exciting’, ‘interesting’, and ‘entertaining’ for their children, with

four groups expressing the opinion that it is important to encourage children’s

involvement in nature, art, and culture, and to provide them with unique experiences

– which they believed the coin-trees offered.

The desire to maintain children’s innocence was also evident. A woman at Bolton

Abbey with two children – a 12 year old girl and 15 year old boy – admitted to being

disappointed that her teenage son no longer wanted to participate in the coin-tree

custom: ‘They just grow out of it, don’t they?’ she lamented. Her son’s disinterest,

however, appeared to make her more determined to encourage her daughter’s

participation.

Likewise, when a couple at Ingleton pointed out the coin-trees to their seven-year-

old daughter, she replied, to her parents’ bemusement: ‘But it’s a waste of money’.

Her surprisingly jaded response seemed to motivate her parents into participation:

they helped her insert a coin and assured her that it was not a ‘waste of money’, but

was ‘for making wishes’. As Wells asserts in her study of the tooth-fairy, many

parents feel that such beliefs are ‘absolutely necessary for the development of

imagination in children, and that adults should do everything in their power to

encourage belief’ (1991: 431). The coin-tree, therefore, provides an ideal vehicle for

broadening a child’s cultural outlook, by offering them the chance to engage with a

structure that combines elements of nature, art, and folklore, whilst simultaneously

(in the opinions of some parents at least) maintaining their innocence by giving them

the opportunity to playfully participate in a rather whimsical ritual.

Tuleja, considering another child-centred folkloric custom, the tooth-fairy, notes that

such practices grew in Britain at a rapid rate from the mid-20th

century, and he

believes that one of the primary reasons was this rise of a ‘child-directed family

culture’ (1991: 413), which he terms the ‘Cult of the Child’ (1991: 414). This mid-

114

20th

-century shift may likewise account for the contemporary rise in the coin-tree

custom. Because fewer adults would earnestly observe such a practice in the 20th

century than they would have done in the 18th

or 19th

centuries (a factor explored in

Chapter 6), there were no ideally situated contemporary producers and consumers of

the coin-trees – until children came to the forefront of ritual play and participation. A

custom is only observed if participants choose to participate, which may account for

the dormancy of this practice throughout much of the 20th

century. By the 1990s,

however, an ideal participatory group had emerged: families with children. The coin-

tree custom could therefore be successfully revived.

3 – THE DAWN OF THE DAY-TRIPPER

As well as the rise of the child-centred family culture, Tuleja also attributes the mid-

20th

-century growth of practices such as the tooth-fairy to the ‘greater availability of

discretionary income’ (1991: 414). One aspect of this factor has already been

explored; inflation causing a decrease in the subjective value of coins, leading to

their utilisations as disposable and convenient deposits for the coin-tree custom.

However, the greater availability of discretionary income played another role in the

emergence of this practice.

As is evident in Appendix 4.6, only a small minority (8%) of the contemporary

participants interviewed were local residents (defined as living within 20 miles of the

coin-tree site). Foreign tourists accounted for some (10%), but the majority group

were domestic tourists on short breaks or day-trips (82%); a fact that is unsurprising

considering the location of most coin-trees at popular natural heritage sites. Indeed,

Van den Eynden (2010), studying plant-centred rituals in contemporary Scotland,

opines that such customs are perpetuated primarily by curious tourists rather than

local residents (2010: 243). As noted above, in order to survive, a custom requires an

appropriate group of participants, and in the case of the coin-tree, the appropriate

group is evidently tourists and day-trippers, of which there are clearly enough to

perpetuate the custom. However, numbers of people with both the ability and

inclination to visit sites of natural heritage have not always been so prodigious.

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As Yale observes, ‘[a]lthough the appeal of the countryside seems obvious at the

start of the twenty-first century, this has not always been the case’ (2004: 9.1). In the

early 1900s, the concept of walking as a pleasure pursuit, as well as an appreciation

of rural scenery, was confined to the upper classes (Patmore 1972: 11). However,

over the 20th

century this changed. As Britain became increasingly urban, the

popularity of the countryside as a holiday destination rose in tandem (Yale 2004:

9.23); people from all classes became eager to escape the cities, if only for a day.

Consequently, walking has become Britain’s most popular outdoor activity, as well

as a common feature of domestic tourist trips within the British Isles, 70% of which

now involve recreational walks (The Ramblers’ Association 2010: 1).

The 20th

century saw not only a rise in people’s desires to spend their leisure time

walking in rural areas, but also a rapid increase in their abilities to do so. Although

the tourist industry was well-established in Britain by 1940 (Tinniswood 1998: 159),

it was not until the 1960s that mass tourism developed, and holidays became a

common feature of people’s lives, regardless of social class (Barton 2005). Since

then, cultural and heritage tourism in Britain have been increasing (Markwell et al.

1997), and there are a number of reasons for this.

Disposable income, an increase in leisure time, and the advent of paid holiday-leave

are three major contributing factors (Barton 2005). Transportation is another, with

the mobility of a personal car bringing what Patmore terms ‘incomparably greater

freedom to recreational travel’ (1972: 12), allowing drivers far more choice in where

and when they went. Car ownership in Britain has been multiplying rapidly since the

pre-war years: 109,000 in 1919, one million in 1930, two million by 1939 (Patmore

1972: 12), four million in 1950 – to over 34 million in 2010 (Department for

Transport 2011: 1). In 1951, 14% of households had access to a car; this figure had

risen to 75% by 2010 (Department of Transport 2011: 4).

As Tinniswood writes, ‘[f]rom very early on in its history, [the car] was advertised

and marketed as a way for the town-dweller to discover the countryside’ (1998: 160),

and this is certainly what it achieves. This increased mobility has given people

greater opportunity to explore areas of natural heritage, which may otherwise have

been inaccessible. My own fieldwork at the coin-tree sites illustrates this. Of the 33

sites visited, only four were easily accessible from a city using public transport:

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Hardcastle Crags, Padley Gorge, Marbury Park, and Arnside Knott. Other sites

would have required multiple train and bus journeys, as well as many hours in

transit, and so I opted to use a car. It is easy to appreciate, therefore, why people –

especially families with younger children – are more inclined, or able, to visit sites of

natural heritage now that 75% or so of households have access to a car.

Transportation to a site is not, however, the only contributing factor to level of

accessibility; land ownership is another integral aspect. Historically, the majority of

land in the British Isles has been privately owned; consequently very little was

accessible to the public (Yale 2004: 9.25). This has gradually been changing

throughout the 20th

century, no doubt due to the realisation that heritage tourism had

developed major economic value for Britain. In 1949, for example, the ‘National

Parks and Access to the Countryside Act’ was passed, creating many public rights of

way (Patmore 1972: 242). In 1972, the Woodland Trust was created to safeguard

forests (Yale 2004: 9.22), and the launch of the National Lottery in 1994 resulted in

prodigious increases in funding for the conservation of natural heritage sites (Yale

2004: 1.25). Finally in 2000, the new ‘Countryside and Rights of Way Act’ shifted

the balance of rights from the landowners in favour of public accessibility (Yale

2004: 9.25).

The current economic climate has also greatly influenced the level of tourism at

natural heritage sites. The 2008 recession led to a general decrease in disposable

income, and consequently many people in Britain chose domestic breaks and day-

trips rather than holidays abroad. Indeed, Fiona Reynolds, Director-General of the

National Trust, declares that ‘2009 was the year of the staycation’ (2010: 40), noting

that visitor numbers to National Trust properties rose by 17.5%. Jenny Abramsky,

Chair of the Heritage Lottery Fund, observes the same boom in the domestic tourist

industry, with visits to English Heritage properties having risen by 17% during the

summer of 2009 (2010: 1).

Even for those less affected by the poor economic climate of the late 2000s/early

2010s, short breaks to the British countryside are evidently increasingly appealing.

Since the 1990s, there has been a rise in what Prentice terms ‘secondary’ holidays,

with many people taking a domestic, ‘secondary’ trip as well as holidaying abroad

(1993: 3). And with the growing ease with which people can access natural heritage

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sites, such trips easily fit into a single day, resulting in the increasingly popular day-

trip. A survey conducted by VisitEngland, VisitScotland, and Visit Wales, for

example, reveals that during 2012, the British took a total of 1,712 million day-trips

to tourist sites, an increase of 11% from 2011 (2012 Great Britain Day Visits Survey

2012: 46), and as the majority of day-trippers tend to head for the countryside (Yale

2004: 1.31), it is unsurprising that coin-tree sites experience high volumes of

visitors.

4 – AVAILABILITY: A CHANGE IN FORESTRY POLICY

Just as a custom requires suitable participants in order to be successfully revived and

disseminated, it also requires physical availability. As explored above, coins became

more available throughout the 20th

century, probably contributing to the rise of the

coin-tree custom. However, there is another necessary component to this practice:

the tree.

With woodland covering an estimated 3.1 million hectares of the United Kingdom

(Forestry Commission 2012: 8), it seems unlikely that a shortage of trees would have

prevented or delayed the dissemination of the coin-tree custom. However, living

trees account for only 17% of all coin-trees catalogued; it is instead logs and wooden

fragments (coarse woody debris; CWD) which are more commonly appropriated for

this custom, accounting for 41%, and until the start of the 21st century CWD was

actively removed by forest management. In 1996, Peterken writes that the aim of

management was ‘to utilise the timber and wood, not to allow it to decay’, because:

accumulations of fallen wood are regarded as breeding grounds for beetles,

which might then infect living trees…dead wood is not allowed to

accumulate, because it is ‘untidy’…Typically, therefore, managed woods

contain unnaturally small amounts of CWD (1996: 396)

Up to and including the 1990s, therefore, logs were not left in situ, and so were not

readily available for potential coin-tree participants. In 2002, however, this policy

changed. The Forestry Commission published a guide offering the opposite advice,

recommending against the removal of CWD and advocating instead that decaying

timber should be left in situ (Forestry Commission 2002).

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The promotion of deadwood stems from the benefits it provides in the natural

environment, as illustrated by Harmon et al. (1986), Hodge and Peterken (1998), and

Packham et al. (1992: 256-258). As well as playing key roles in carbon storage, soil

nutrient cycling, and hydrological processes, deadwood left in situ also provides

support and shelter for a wide range of species (Hodge and Peterken 1998; 100;

Forestry Commission 2002: 3-4).

The benefits of leaving CWD in situ having been circulated to forest wardens and

rangers countrywide resulted in the wide availability of logs, which could then be

appropriated for the coin-tree custom. Indeed, Chris Moseley, a ranger at Marbury,

Cheshire (Appendix 2.31), cited the 2002 Forestry Commission guide as the reason

for why they had left the coin-tree log of MP2 in situ rather than removing it once it

had fallen, as they would have done a decade earlier (pers. comm. 16/08/2012).

Although the change aimed to encourage the leaving of deadwood in situ for

ecological reasons, it inadvertently led to cultural benefits, providing a vast supply

of ‘canvases’ for the coin-tree custom.

This recent change in Forestry Commission policy probably does not account for the

initial revival of the custom, if the coin-tree custodians are correct when they

estimate creation dates in the late 1990s for the sites of Bolton Abbey, Lydford

Gorge, and Tarr Steps. However, the remaining (dateable) contemporary coin-trees

were purportedly all coined from 2002 onwards, directly coinciding with the reversal

of forestry policy. This reversal therefore, resulting in a new, widespread availability

of logs, may be the primary reason for why the 2000s witnessed such a rapid

resurgence in the coin-tree custom.

5 – ‘FOLKLORE 2.0’

With the establishment of a child-centred family culture, the rise in domestic tourism

and countryside day-tripping, and the greater availability of the necessary materials,

the late 1990s/early 2000s evidently provided the ideal environmental conditions for

the revival of the coin-tree. It also provided abundant opportunity for the custom’s

dissemination, with the rise of a new, technologically-mediated form of

communication: the Internet.

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It has already been noted that folklorists predicted the loss of folklore as a result of

the rise of mass culture and technology (Bascom 1965: 296). However, Blank (2009;

2012) asserts that such predictions are unfounded, attesting instead that technological

developments are not detrimental to the survival, transmission, creation, and

performance of folk culture – but that they are actually beneficial to these processes.

He asserts that ‘folklore flourishes on the Internet’ (2012: 13), and believes that new

media technology – from laptops and tablets to mobile telephones – is now so deeply

integrated into our communication practices that it has become an instrumental

‘conduit of folkloric transmission’ (2012: 4).

There are certainly enough similarities between face-to-face and computer-mediated

communication to support the theory that vernacular expression transmitted online

can constitute folklore (Fernback 2003; Kibby 2005; Bronner 2009). This evinces

the flexibility with which ‘folklore’ must be approached. I defined ‘folklore’ above

as traditional customs, beliefs, and legends transmitted orally, but oral transmission

has come to include web-based communication, thus altering – and greatly extending

– the definitional parameters of ‘folklore’. It also alters the scale of such

transmissions. As early as 1996, Kirshenblatt-Gimblett (1996) was noting the

Internet’s efficacy for transmitting folklore, and in 2005 Dundes asserted that

‘folklore continues to be alive and well in the modern world, due in part to increased

transmission via e-mail and the Internet’ (2005: 406). Thompson, who describes

online folklore as ‘Folkore 2.0’ (2012: 58), likewise states that ‘folklore is enjoying a

tremendous renaissance online’ (2012: 53).

It is unsurprising, therefore, that the transmission of information regarding the coin-

tree custom is prodigiously evident on the Internet (Chapters 2 and 3). Coin-tree

related online articles, forum threads, and personal blogs tend to follow a similar

pattern: the author (or instigator of the thread) writes a piece of varying length

concerning a particular coin-tree site, and comments are subsequently added by

people who have read this piece and wish to inform the author of other coin-tree sites

they are familiar with. On the website Wild About Britain (Anonymous 2007), for

example, a forum post in 2007 concerning the Dovedale coin-trees elicited seven

responses, two of which refer to other coin-trees: ‘I’ve seen this at the Fairy Glen

RSPB reserve near Rosemarkie on the Black Isle’ (2010) and ‘I came across a

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similar feature at Bolton Abbey in Yorkshire a couple of years ago’ (2010).

Likewise, on Amusing Planet (Anonymous 2009) a blog-post about coin-trees led to

six comments referring to other sites. The Internet therefore functions as a

convenient conduit for the exchange of information regarding the locations of coin-

trees. People who may have been aware of one coin-tree site can learn of many

others, and in some cases, specific directions are given to these sites so that the

readers can locate them.

A particularly illustrative example of the disseminating powers of the Internet is a

thread on the Sheffield Forum entitled ‘How can I find the money tree on Wadsley

Common?’ (2009). The creator of the thread claims that she and her children heard

of the Wadsley/Loxley coin-tree but have ‘been looking for a year now and can’t

find it anywhere!’ She appeals to her fellow forum members for advice, and is not

disappointed: as well as comments regarding other coin-trees, three forum members

respond with directions. One person sent a link to Google Maps on which the coin-

tree’s location has been pinpointed, whilst another person wrote:

i know where it is! if you park in the top car park and walk down the path onto

the big field carry on down to the bottom and turn right towards the woods

when ur into the woods its [sic.] on the little hill just before it drops down to

the other side bang in the middle of the path, hope u find it! (2009)

This forum thread also elicited responses from others who were hoping to locate the

Loxley coin-tree themselves. Some were successful, such as the thread’s instigator,

who announced two weeks after her original post: ‘Thank you, thank you all who

helped! We finally found the tree today by combining all the helpful tips’ (2009).

Others, however, were not successful; another forum member, for example, declared,

‘Spent 4 hours looking for the damned thing. None of the dog walking locals had

heard of it either. So, we made our own!’ (2009). In both cases the custom of the

coin-tree has been perpetuated via the Internet: in one case, the contribution to the

existing coin-tree and in another, the creation of a new one. Both cases were fostered

by this forum, clearly demonstrating how computer-mediated communication

facilitates the transmission and dissemination of folklore.

In some cases, the readers of these posts and forum threads are not familiar with

coin-trees, and it is therefore the Internet which provides them with the knowledge of

this custom’s existence. In the Loxley coin-tree thread on the Sheffield Forum, one

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member states, ‘I know the common very well, and never heard of this story. ill [sic.]

certainly be on the look out next time im [sic.] up there!’ (2009). Likewise, on the

Sheffield Wildlife forum, an entry about the Padley Gorge coin-trees led to one

commenter exclaiming, ‘I’ll certainly keep my eyes peeled when I’m out in

Derbyshire again’ (2008). A person commenting on the entry on Amusing Planet

similarly declares that, ‘I have lived in England all my life walked in many woods

and trails…and have never come across these trees before, but sure will do some

research and post a definitive guide on my blog’ (2009).

This method of dissemination is evident in academic environments also. In April

2013, I received a number of emails from fellow researchers directing me to a

Contemporary History and Archaeology in Theory (CHAT) email thread entitled

‘Coins and Trees’. Archaeologist John Winterburn had contacted his fellow CHAT

members, describing a recent encounter with the Portmeirion and Snowdon coin-

trees and asking if members were aware of other examples. This request elicited 10

responses (11 including my own), with researchers and heritage professionals from

institutions such as Reading University, University College London, the University

of Manchester, Linnaeus University, Stanford University, and English Heritage, all

contributing their own theories, knowledge, and experiences of coin-trees.

Computer-mediated communication has therefore facilitated the dissemination of

folklore research as well as folklore itself. Indeed, as detailed in Chapter 3, much of

my initial research on the coin-tree custom was conducted online, with the use of

forums, blogs, online articles, and emails.

The Internet provides ideal conditions for the transmission and dissemination of the

coin-tree custom for two primary reasons. Firstly, it offers what Kibby (2005) terms

a rapid and effective ‘distribution mechanism’, computer-mediated communication

allowing for the quick (indeed, instant), widespread, and easy exchange of

information (Blank 2009: 8). Secondly, it is not restricted geographically. Thompson

(2012) and McNeill (2009; 2012) both observe that the Internet has altered not only

how the ‘folk’ communicate and transmit folklore, but also what constitutes the

‘folk’. Because of the global discourse of the Internet, cultural identity is no longer

necessarily equated with geography and therefore a ‘folk group’ has no need for a

geographical base (Thompson 2012: 55). A person can be sitting at their computer

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exchanging information about the coin-tree custom with someone in a different

county, country, or even continent.

The rapid, geographically-unbound distribution mechanism of the Internet may

therefore account for the seemingly sporadic patterns of dissemination witnessed

across the British Isles. As explored above, Map 4 (Appendix 1.2) illustrates that the

coin-tree custom did not disperse in a logical pattern from one focal point, spreading

from north to south for example, but that it appears to have emerged almost

simultaneously at locations as distant as Yorkshire and Devon. This is probably due

in part to the increase in domestic travel; it is not unlikely that a person visited

Bolton Abbey one year and then visited Lydford Gorge the next, disseminating the

custom over 300 miles south of where they originally witnessed it. However, it is

probably also due to the Internet.

The Internet became an increasingly staple feature of many households during the

2000s, with the percentage of UK households boasting Internet access rising from

9% in 1998 to 42% at the start of 2002, and escalating from there (Office for

National Statistics 2010). It is probably no coincidence that this coincides with the

rapid early-21st-century dissemination of the coin-tree custom. If the ‘folk’ of the 21

st

century are no longer bound by geography then the dissemination of 21st-century

folklore is not either, and the coin-tree custom was able to spread rapidly and widely

across the British Isles via computer-mediated communication.

6 – CONCLUSION

When Archbishop Whately advised that ‘almost every system of superstition, in

order to be rightly understood, should be…read backwards’ (1860: 196), he assumed

a neat, linear progression, leading the researcher back from the present-day to a

specific point of origin. Likewise, when Peter at Portmeirion described the coin-trees

as a ‘continuation of folklore’ and claimed that the custom is ‘something we may not

really believe in anymore but we do it just because we’ve always done it’, he also

implied that while the beliefs and notions behind a custom may evolve over time, the

physical custom itself has a traceable continuity. However, as this chapter has

demonstrated, this is not always (if ever) the case.

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The origins of the coin-tree are far too complex and convoluted to simply ‘read

backwards’. Rather than a successive line of evolving customs, the coin-tree has

proven itself to be more an amalgamation of numerous strands of traditions, beliefs,

and substitutions, with individual coin-trees ‘evolving’ at different rates and in

varying orders. As Clifford observes: ‘Metaphors of continuity and “survival” do not

account for complex historical processes of appropriation, compromise, subversion,

masking, invention, and revival’ (1988: 338).

There was not one single practice or belief which led to the original emergence of

the coin-tree custom, but rather a myriad: the tree’s history of ritual and folkloric

employment; the tree’s relationship with the holy well and the act of deposition; the

rag-tree and the notion of contagious transfer; and the implantation of disease via the

use of pins, nails, and bodily substances. The coin’s rise to the forefront of ritual

deposition is likewise the result of numerous strands: the imbuement of folk-

remedial and apotropaic powers to the coin because of its material and the image it

bears; the coin’s status as a symbol of value and exchange; and the decreasing value

of the coin combined with its increased ubiquity resulting in its employment as a

convenient ritual deposit.

The above factors were all combined in various ratios and sequences, leading to the

creation of the coin-tree custom. Their contemporary re-emergence, however, is the

result of an entirely different set of processes. The mid/late-20th

-century rise in the

‘child-directed family culture’ (Tuleja 1991: 413) produced an ideal participatory

group, as did the rapid growth of domestic tourism, which reflects an increase in the

number of people not only with an inclination to visit British sites of natural

heritage, but with the ability to do so. The 2002 Forestry Commission guide,

recommending that deadwood be left in situ rather than removed, accounts for the

greater availability of logs necessary for this custom. And the early-21st-century

growth of the Internet produced an effective dissemination mechanism, enabling the

wide and rapid transmission of folklore on what Kibby (2005) believes to be an

unprecedented scale.

In conclusion, the contemporary coin-tree has not prospered despite the modernity of

its environment, but because of it. The 21st century, with its shifted family values,

mass domestic tourism, and boom in technologically-mediated communication,

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proves to provide the ideal environmental conditions under which folklore can, and

does, flourish. And so, when Benedict stated that ‘folklore has not survived as a

living trait in modern civilization’ (1932: 292), she could not have been more

mistaken.

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CHAPTER 5: CONTEMPORARY ENGAGEMENT

It is a warm and sunny day in Cumbria during the May half-term holidays (2012),

and the footpath which hugs the shore of Tarn Hows is teeming with walkers. The

route around the lake, however, is not strenuous, and so many are walking with

children. Nearly all have stopped to examine the primary coin-tree, a densely-coined

uprooted stump which rests on a raised earthen bank, its eastern end overhanging

the path. It is particularly conspicuous because the sunlight is accentuating the

lustre of the coins, and their neat, longitudinal arrangement along the bark makes

their distribution appear precise and deliberate.

A family of three from Newcastle-under-Lyme, Staffordshire, who are on holiday in

Cumbria, turn the corner of the path and are immediately greeted by the sight of the

coin-tree. The mother is English, the father French, and both are in their forties.

Their daughter is in her early teens. The parents, walking a little ahead, notice the

coin-tree instantly and stop to examine it.

Walkers congregating around an Ingleton coin-tree, Yorkshire (Photograph by author)

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‘Look at this,’ the father gestures to his daughter. ‘It’s full of coins.’

The daughter is initially sceptical that the patterns in the bark are created by coins

but, on closer examination, her father’s statement is proven correct; she wonders

what its purpose is. The mother originally believes that it is a sculpture, commenting

on the symmetry of the coins, and she is doubtful that they would be ‘allowed’ to add

their own. However, in the time they spend examining the coin-tree, another group

of walkers approaches and, utilising a nearby rock as a tool of percussion, hammer

in their own coins. The family of three follow suit.

Searching through their pockets and purses, they find that the lowest denomination

coin they have is a 10 pence piece. The mother is hesitant to use it, claiming that

every other coin in the tree is copper and she fears that they will ‘ruin the pattern’.

When the father points out several five and 10 pence pieces amidst the copper coins,

she relents, and so the father and daughter clamber up the steep bank to the root-end

of the log, wanting to make their contribution in a more sparsely-coined area. Using

the same rock that they had witnessed the other group employing, the father helps

the daughter hammer in their coin, and then the mother climbs up wielding a

camera; the daughter points out ‘her’ coin and the mother takes several

photographs of it, before descending again to the path.

At this point, I introduce myself and explain the nature of my research. They are very

curious and ask me as many questions as I ask them; the mother is eager for

confirmation that the coin-tree is not an official sculpture. When I enquire about

what they believe the ‘purpose’ of the coin-tree to be, there is a moment’s hesitation,

and then the mother tentatively theorises that the tree is ‘for wishes’, ‘like a wishing

well’. We speak for a further few minutes about the nature of the site, and when I ask

how they would feel if someone were to remove their coin, the mother is instantly

indignant, recalling how she had witnessed people removing coins from a fountain in

France: ‘I think it’s cheeky’, she opines. ‘Things like this, they’re almost

sacrosanct.’

The father is now eager for them to continue their walk and so they depart. As they

disappear around a corner, the daughter smugly announces, ‘So money does grow

on trees’, to which the mother replies resignedly, ‘I guess I can’t use that excuse

anymore.’

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1 – INTRODUCTION

‘We cannot, in general,’ writes Gell, ‘take up a point of view on the origination of

the artefact which is the point of view of the artefact itself. Our natural point of

vantage is that of the originating person, the artist, because we, also, are persons’

(1998: 67-68). In other words, an understanding of an object necessitates an

understanding of people’s perceptions of – and motivations in creating – said object.

Advocating this approach, Mall (2007) criticises past archaeological studies which

have focused on objects without exploring the processes resulting in their creation.

Instead, a consideration of how and why an artefact was made should be central to

any analysis or interpretation of it, and this chapter aims to address these questions in

relation to the coin-tree.

The coin-tree, however, is not simply an artefact; it is an accumulation, the

production of which is an ongoing process. Coin-trees are not created at one fixed

time by a single ‘originating person, the artist’ (Gell 1998: 68), and then

subsequently used by other persons. Instead, the producers are the users; the users,

the producers, and the crafting of a coin-tree is the result of a large quantity of

‘artists’ making their contributions over a long period of time. In the case of the

coin-tree, participation is production. In understanding these structures, therefore,

our ‘natural point of vantage’ is that of the thousands of people who have added their

coins to these structures, thus creating the coin-trees in the process.

Fortunately, these producers/users still currently produce and use these coin-trees,

and are thus available to question. This chapter, therefore, utilises my ethnographic

data, as well as the material evidence of the coin-trees themselves – which testifies to

the motivations of past depositors – in a consideration of how people engage with

the coin-trees; how they interact with the structures physically; and why they choose

to participate in the custom, subsequently becoming the ‘artists’ themselves.

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2 – ENGAGING WITH THE COIN-TREE: PRIOR KNOWLEDGE

A person’s engagement with an object can begin prior to any actual physical

encounter with it. For instance, one couple at Aira Force had chosen to take the

specific path which passes the primary coin-tree in order to contribute their own

coins. The man had come across the coin-tree on a previous visit and had told his

partner of it, who in turn had asked to see it. In this example, therefore, the woman –

who had never physically seen the coin-tree before – had begun her engagement with

it prior to her visit; she had heard a description and her curiosity had been piqued.

Likewise, a young girl on Mt. Snowdon was motivated to continue climbing by the

promise of a coin-tree, told by her father that there is a ‘magic-tree’ at the peak of the

mountain. Similarly at Becky Falls and Lydford Gorge, young children had been

informed of the coin-trees by their guardians prior to their visits; one young girl had

been asking ‘is this it?’ to every log they had passed, despite her grandmother having

assured her that she would ‘know it when she saw it’. Like the woman at Aira Force,

these children were curious about the coin-trees, as structures they had heard of but

never seen; their engagements with the coin-trees thus preceded their actual

encounters with them.

In the majority of cases, however, this is not the typical order of events. Few

practitioners of the custom have prior knowledge of the presence of coin-trees; only

17% of interview participants had come across other coin-trees before the day of

their interview. Several participants had heard about coin-trees from other people,

and two women had researched the custom on the Internet. However, other than

these examples, the majority of people had not been aware of the phenomenon

before the day of their interview, and it is clear that the insertion of a coin is rarely a

planned ritual.

In the vast majority of cases, therefore, people come across these coin-trees by

chance rather than by design. This is evidenced by the lack of planning and

preparation involved in this practice. For example, I witnessed over 200 people insert

coins into these trees, and not a single one had come prepared with a hammer in

order to make the insertion of coins easier. Instead, they either inserted coins into

pre-existing cracks or employed handy objects as makeshift tools of percussion:

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most often nearby rocks (Figs. 50-51, also seen in Fig. 37), but I have also witnessed

a pocket-knife and the sole of a shoe employed for such a purpose.

Some practitioners, however, appear to have planned their participation prior to their

visit, and this is evidenced by the nature of some of the deposits. It is unlikely, for

example, that the depositors of the metal plates engraved with names and screwed to

the bark of the primary coin-tree at Aira Force (Fig. 52) (Appendix 2.7), just

happened to be carrying engraved metal plates and a handful of screws. It is more

likely that they came to the site prepared to make their contribution, as did the

depositor of the red candle on Isle Maree (Fig. 53) (Appendix 2.26). Similar

examples of foresight were rife at St. Nectan’s Glen (Appendix 2.36), where a

variety of objects not likely to have been fortuitously carried by the participant have

been deposited (albeit most left by the waterfall as opposed to on the coin-tree):

semi-precious stones, a rubber duck, memorials of deceased pets in plastic wallets,

painted pieces of slate, and candles (Fig. 54).

The nature of these clearly pre-meditated deposits – which I term ‘planned deposits’,

in contrast to the ‘casual deposits’ of coins – indicate that some practitioners have

come upon these sites by design. Indeed, at St. Nectan’s Glen three interview

participants told me that they had brought items deliberately to deposit: a pair of

women had come prepared with ribbons to attach to the nearby rag-tree, while

another woman had brought and deposited a candle the previous year. However, as is

evidenced by the table in Appendix 3.5, which groups all catalogued deposits of

coin-trees into three categories – casual, ambiguous, and planned – overtly planned

deposits are clearly in the minority, suggesting that so too is planned participation.

The ‘casual’ deposits of coins and other objects (plastic tokens, hair accessories,

jewellery, clothing, a receipt, a feather, a flower) likely to have been carried or

sourced on site (totalling 166,046) far outnumber their planned counterparts (metal

plaques, a candle, a semi-precious stone) (totalling 5), as well as ambiguous objects,

which are not obviously one category or the other (nails, screws, bolts, ribbons,

string, a drawing pin, a battery, a beer bottle cap) (totalling 106).

Even deposits which appear to have involved effort and are highly personal may

have been improvised on-site; at Ardmaddy, for example, a note was written

addressing the coin-tree, ‘Dear Wishing-Tree’. The anonymous writer of the note

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appealed to the tree for a romantic partner, provided a lengthy list of their desired

qualities, before folding the note neatly and lodging it in a fissure of the bark. The

nature of this deposit would imply intention and planning; however, it was written

on the reverse of a pharmacy receipt. As Hulse (1995) notes in his examination of

the written prayers deposited at St. Trillo’s Well, Llandrillo-yn-Rhos (referred to in

Chapter 4), attention should not simply be paid to the message such notes contain,

but also to what they have been written on. A receipt indicates spontaneity,

demonstrating the large role played by convenience and improvisation in the

sourcing of deposits.

Indeed, as is outlined in Chapter 4, the convenience of coins – the likelihood that a

person would be in possession of a coin at any given time – led to the proliferation of

coins being utilised as deposits, indicating that participation in this ritual is largely

unplanned. In fact, the experience of coming across these monuments by chance

appears to be a primary aspect of the coin-trees’ appeal to some. As one participant

told me, ‘it’s really nice that you can just be wandering along the path and stumble

across something like this’, whilst another claimed that there is ‘definitely something

nice about just coming across these trees by surprise’. One woman at Tarr Steps

excitedly exclaimed, upon seeing the primary coin-tree, that ‘you don’t expect to see

something like this out here’.

3 – THE FIRST ENCOUNTER

If an individual has no prior knowledge of an object, then the first stage of their

engagement with that object is the first encounter. Not having approached the coin-

trees by design, why did the participants approach them at all? Why do so many of

these sites’ visitors put their activity – recreational walking – on hold in order to

examine structures which they know little-to-nothing about? What is it that draws

whole congregations of people to these coin-trees?

Certainly the coin-trees are physically striking, and no doubt attract many visitors

purely through their aesthetic qualities (a factor considered in more detail below).

However, my one-hour observations revealed there to be another primary factor

involved in attracting members of the public to the coin-trees at each site, and it is a

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word which has already been used: congregations. People congregate around coin-

trees. They converge; assemble; crowd. And in doing so, they attract more people.

Both my observations and interviews revealed that people were far more likely to

approach a coin-tree if another group had already gathered around it. As a result,

groups and individuals stopping to examine coin-trees tended to be clustered

together, often overlapping and attracting still more groups in a snowball-like effect

(Figs. 55-56).

The same is true of inserting coins. If a group of visitors witnessed another group

inserting a coin, then the chances were much greater that they would insert coins

also. This also worked in reverse; Peter at Portmeirion (described in Chapter 4), who

had seen no other group interacting with the coin-trees, seemed rather sceptical when

I informed him that the coins had been inserted by members of the public. Having

not witnessed anybody participate in this custom himself, Peter did not seem inclined

to believe that the coin-trees were products of public participation, and was therefore

reluctant to participate himself.

Likewise, a number of visitors at each coin-tree site have doubted the public nature

of these structures, querying whether the coin-trees were official pieces of art. At

Dovedale (Appendix 2.18), three groups believed the primary coin-tree to have been

the work of a single artist or a piece of ‘community art’, whilst at Tarr Steps

(Appendix 2.39), one woman described the coin-tree as ‘folk art’. Similarly in

Cumbria, six people admitted to originally perceiving the coin-trees as sculptures,

possibly sponsored by the National Trust, and were unsure whether or not they

would be ‘allowed’ to insert a coin of their own – an opinion also expressed by a

German couple at Ingleton (Appendix 2.25). One woman claimed to not ‘even know

if we should touch it’. Unsurprisingly, all of the individuals and groups who viewed

the coin-trees as official pieces of art had not witnessed fellow walkers insert coins.

Without the knowledge that the coin-trees are the products of a custom observed by

members of the public, they did not consider participating themselves.

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4 – ‘QUEUE MENTALITY’

This desire to legitimize action by noting how others have acted is certainly not

atypical in human behaviour. Indeed, it is a form of behaviour that has been explored

by numerous cognitive scientists, sociologists, and economists, and is a phenomenon

which has been variously labelled ‘social learning theory’ (Bandura 1977; Rogers

1995); ‘the bandwagon effect’ (Granovetter 1978; Anderson and Holt 1996); ‘herd

instinct’ (Trotter 1916); ‘herd behaviour’ (Banerjee 1992); and ‘social contagion’

(Raafat et al. 2009). Basically, it is a form of imitation.

Imitation has always constituted a vast aspect of our learning processes; as Meltzoff

observes, a ‘wide range of behaviours – from tool use to social customs – are passed

from one generation to another through imitative learning’ (2005: 55). As children

we learn through imitating the actions of others, and we continue to do so as adults,

to the extent that imitation is what Dijksterhuis has termed ‘default social behaviour’

(2005: 207-208); we do it without thinking about it. We rely on social validation to

dictate the terms of what is acceptable behaviour and what is not.

Social validation is behind the vast majority of examples of collective behaviour:

religious revivals, fashions and fads, political choices, consumer preferences, and

mob violence. Consciously or subconsciously – rightly or wrongly – people trust the

majority, and so they follow suit. And, in doing so, they add to that majority,

encouraging others to follow suit in a snowball-like effect (Markus 1987; Rogers

1995: 333). Bikhchandani et al. term the basis of this model ‘information cascades’

(1992; 1998), whereby people infer from the participation of others the potential

benefits for themselves, a process highly evident in public protests, demonstrations,

and riots (Lohmann 1994). A person is far more likely to participate in a riot, for

example, if they see a high number of others doing so, and this number is known in

economics as the ‘threshold’ (Rogers 1995).

As defined by Rogers, a ‘threshold’ is ‘the number of other individuals who must be

engaged in an activity before a given individual will join that activity’ (1995: 320).

Some individuals may have a threshold of 0; these individuals are known as

innovators or ‘instigators’ (Gravonetter 1978: 1422), and they are few and far

between. The majority of people have high thresholds, and will need to have

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observed many of their peers participate in a new activity before they themselves

will imitate that behaviour.

There are, however, far subtler examples of information cascades than

demonstrations and riots, and these often occur in our daily lives. A person sitting in

a boring lecture or party will often wait to observe others leaving before they

themselves will (Gravonetter 1978: 1424). A person, having to decide between two

restaurants, will probably choose the restaurant which appears the most popular

(Banerjee 1992: 797; Bikhchandani et al. 1998: 151-152). An individual trying to

decide which model of mobile telephone, television, or even car to purchase will

have been greatly – if not consciously – influenced by the models they perceive to be

the most popular.

It is this behaviour – this desire for social validation – which is evident in the

public’s participation in the custom of the coin-tree. The majority having never seen

or heard of coin-trees before approach these structures with no prior knowledge of

the custom and no assurances that participation is even permitted. As sociologist

Krassa writes, an individual, ‘for fear of social isolation, must observe some

minimum level of support’ before they will participate (1988: 111). People’s

opinions and actions are interdependent, and therefore many individuals – unless

their threshold is 0 – will need to believe that other individuals have inserted coins

into a coin-tree in order to infer that the custom is permitted.

This is how innovations are diffused (Bandura 1977); this is how the custom of the

coin-tree appears to have spread across the British Isles, despite the fact that many of

its participants admit to not knowing the ‘purpose’ of the custom. An individual

observes a group congregating around a coin-tree, which immediately piques their

curiosity. They then witness other individuals insert coins and so, taking their cue

from their peers and submitting to the ‘emotional contagion’ of their environment

(Hartfield et al. 1994: 2), they imitate and insert a coin themselves. Thus is the nature

of accumulation, which Gamble describes as having a ‘magnetic-like effect’ (2007:

122); deposits attract more deposits, often at an exponential rate.

As evident as imitation is at the coin-tree sites, I do not propose this theory based

solely on my observations; many of the custom’s participants admitted to imitation

being their primary motivation for participation. A high proportion of individuals

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who inserted coins explained that they had only done so ‘because other people had

done it’. At Tarn Hows, an American couple claimed that they had seen another

group insert coins and had ‘wanted to know what all the fuss was about’, an answer

identical to one given by a man at Dovedale. One man, also at Tarn Hows, believed

that the participants are ‘just copying, adding to it...I don’t think there’s any deeper

reason than that’, a sentiment shared by many other participants, while another man

termed this process of imitation ‘the queue mentality’. He explained that if ‘you see

enough people doing something then you join in, and you don’t really ask why’.

It may be argued that every custom requires an instigator; that there must have been

one person with a ‘threshold’ of 0 who decided to insert the first coin into the first

coin-tree. At every coin-tree site, in fact, there must have been one person or group

who decided to insert a coin into a tree when nobody else had. The questions of what

motivated their desire to instigate this practice, and why they chose that particular

tree at that particular site, cannot be answered without speaking with the instigators

themselves. However, even these instigators were probably inspired to act through

imitation.

As explored in Chapter 4, no custom springs forth from a vacuum; it is unlikely that

there was an original instigator whose creation of the first coin-tree was an entirely

isolated or random incident. People probably originally began inserting coins in

order to adhere to – and imitate – the similar predecessor custom of inserting metal

objects into trees. Subsequently, once the custom of coin insertion had become

established, it may have spread from one site to another through imitation; a person

sees a coin-tree at one site and instigates the custom at another site, thus is the nature

of dissemination. In the case of the coin-tree, therefore, even creation proves to be

mimetic.

5 – A MATTER OF IMITATION

The human inclination to imitate does not only encourage individuals to participate

in the custom, but it influences how they participate. For example, the woman from

Staffordshire at Tarn Hows (see above) was reluctant to insert a 10 pence piece,

despite it being her only coin, because she believed the other coins inserted were all

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copper and did not want to ‘ruin the pattern’. It was only once her husband pointed

out several other silver coins that she relented. Likewise, another woman chose to

insert a penny because she ‘didn’t want to spoil the pattern’, and at Dovedale and

Ingleton, several groups claimed that they had chosen to insert specifically copper

coins because the majority of other people had done so, as is evident in Appendix

3.1, which indicates the significantly high proportion of one and two pence pieces.

Imitation evidently influences which coins are selected for insertion; it also

influences where they are inserted. In many of the coin-trees a repetitive pattern of

coins is clearly visible; most often in longitudinal distributions, following the grain

of the wood (Figs. 19 & 57), but radial formations, wave- or ripple-like patterns,

diagonal, and annular arrangements are also evident (Figs. 20-23). This imitative

placement reveals the participant’s desire to ‘follow the pattern’; a desire to adhere

and contribute to the uniformity of a larger design.

Imitation also influences how these coins are inserted. As noted above, many

participants utilise rocks as tools of percussion when inserting coins into coin-trees,

but often because they have witnessed other people doing so. Even if there are other

conveniently sized rocks in close proximity to the coin-tree, they will specifically

use the rock they have observed other individuals using. They may even bend the

coin over during insertion because others have done so; at Dovedale, one man chose

to bend his coin because ‘other people had’, while at Cumbria, similar reasons were

given by several participants.

A custom is, evidently, contagious. All it requires is for one instigator with a low

threshold to insert one coin into one tree because they have witnessed the practice

elsewhere, and for enough individuals to observe and imitate the action, and the

diffusion of the coin-tree custom becomes self-sustaining. The human inclination to

imitate and model our behaviour on the actions of others is no doubt at the basis of

how and why this custom has spread, seemingly without the impetus of any driving

agent or organisation, across the British Isles. However, just as creation proves to be

mimetic, the opposite is also true: imitation can be creative (Ingold 2007).

Simulation, contrary to the word’s definition, forges something new; a depositor not

only imitates, they contribute. Every time a coin is added to a coin-tree, no matter

how imitatively done, it alters that coin-tree. Every contribution supplements and

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changes, causing patterns to form; and every attempt to maintain a pattern causes it

to grow, spread, and transform. And this leads to the next section of this chapter: a

consideration of aesthetics.

6 – ART AND AESTHETICS

As briefly discussed above, most coin-trees have striking physical appearances, as

has been observed by a wide variety of participants at many of the coin-tree sites.

The coin-trees have been described as ‘pretty’, ‘beautiful’, ‘lovely’, ‘striking’, and

‘impressive’, and many people – whether they had inserted a coin or not –

photographed the coin-trees, either taking photographs of each other inserting a coin

or standing beside/sitting on the tree, or taking ‘artistic’ shots of the coin-trees alone,

sometimes climbing above the structures to photograph the trees at different angles

(Figs. 58-62).

Shuel (2010), a contributor to the Folklore Society newsletter, also noted this aspect

of the coin-tree custom. He manages an online specialist picture library called

Collections, and he observes that three of his contributors have sent photographs of

the Isle Maree coin-tree (2010: 7), illustrating an aesthetic appreciation of these

structures. Indeed, when a woman at Tarn Hows suggested taking a photograph, her

companion pointed out that a photograph would not ‘do it justice’, indicating that an

appreciation of the coin-trees is very deeply rooted (no pun intended) in their

physical qualities.

Not all coin-trees would be considered aesthetically striking. Those with only a small

number of coins embedded into their surfaces are not particularly arresting, primarily

because it is coin density and patterning which are generally considered attractive or

compelling. The decision of a depositor to instigate a new coin-tree – or add to a

peripheral coin-tree as opposed to the primary one – is probably due to a desire to

distinguish their deposit from others (as discussed in greater detail below). However,

it may also still be aesthetically motivated; prompted by the confidence that a

‘fledgling’ coin-tree will eventually become as patterned and densely coined as the

primary coin-tree, bound to gradually transform into a piece of ‘art’ – a notion which

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may be all the more attractive when the depositor considers that they will have

personally instigated this piece of ‘art’.

As has already been observed, many members of the public also believe the coin-

trees to be official art installations, and one question posed to me by a woman at

Portmeirion credits the theory that coin-trees are sometimes perceived as products of

an artist’s work. As explained in Chapter 3, in order to catalogue the coins, I drape a

stringed net over the coin-trees, which forms a grid across the trees’ surfaces (Fig.

10). I then photograph each individual grid-square in order to catalogue the coins at a

later date. Having observed me lay the grid across a coin-tree, the woman asked if I

was ‘doing that for an art project?’

Regardless of the public’s view, however, the undeniable fact is that coin-trees are

not the products of any single artist’s work. However, this does not mean that they

cannot be considered ‘art’, the most basic definition of which, as outlined by the

Oxford English Dictionary, is ‘the expression or application of human creative skill

and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing

works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power’ (OED Online

2014). Nowhere in this definition does it state that ‘art’ is only ‘art’ if it is created by

a single and officially proclaimed ‘artist’. Instead, it claims that ‘art’ is the visual

product of human creativity, appreciated for its beauty; a definition which aptly

encapsulates the coin-tree.

However, the question of whether coin-trees constitute ‘art’ is beyond the scope (and

disciplinary interests) of this thesis. The point here is that the coin-trees are widely

appreciated for their aesthetic qualities, and this is a relevant point. Coote and

Shelton, in their work on Anthropology, Art and Aesthetics, note that the ‘‘artness’ of

the object sometimes seems to be of secondary importance after their political or

symbolic roles’ (1992: 3); in the analysis of an object – both in anthropology and

archaeology – its aesthetic qualities are sometimes side-lined in favour of its

practical or symbolic purposes. However, as Gell stresses, ‘the distinction we make

between ‘mere’ decoration and function is unwarranted; decoration is intrinsically

functional, or else its presence would be inexplicable’ (1998: 74). In other words, the

‘artiness’ of the coin-tree has a function – indeed, it appears to have several.

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7 – CAPTIVATION

The appearance of the coin-trees plays a primary role in attracting participants in the

first place; their striking physicality draws people in, enticing them. Gell terms this

process ‘captivation’ (1998: 68ff), using the Trobriand Islanders’ utilisations of their

elaborately adorned canoe prow-boards as ‘psychological weapons’ as an example of

the ‘bewitching effect’ of art (1998: 71ff). From my observations, the coin-trees do

appear to have such a ‘bewitching effect’ on those who pass by, the majority of

whom stop in their tracks at first sight of the trees and approach to examine them,

making exclamations such as ‘how fabulous’ and ‘bizarre’.

What is it, however, that causes this captivation? Gell, asserting that the causes are

deeper than simple aesthetic pleasure, writes of the ‘technology of enchantment and

the enchantment of technology’ (1999: 167), maintaining that it is an observer’s

failure to understand the technical processes of an object’s manufacture – what he

terms ‘cognitive stickiness’ (1998: 85-86) – that reels the observer in. Simply put,

we are attracted to objects that we do not understand; it is ‘their becoming rather

than their being’ that entices and confuses us (Gell 1999: 166). Gell believes,

therefore, that the elaborately designed prow-boards of the Trobriand Islanders’

canoes are designed to be impressive not (entirely) for their aesthetics, but because

of the magical skill that is believed to have crafted them (1999: 166). Art historian

Baker is in agreement, claiming that observers of a piece of art are ‘lured by the

narratives of making’ (2005: 199).

The enigmatic object is therefore the captivating object. And what is more enigmatic

than a log or a stump that has been embedded with thousands of coins for reasons

beyond the observer’s comprehension? That the coin-trees are disorienting is

evidenced by the sheer numbers of passers-by who have physically halted at their

first sight of a coin-tree, and have then needed to approach it in order to ascertain if

what they think they are seeing coincides with what they are actually seeing.

Greenblatt (1991) dubs this type of reaction ‘wonder’; the near-paralysing ‘startle

reflex’ exhibited in reaction to that which ‘cannot be understood, that can scarcely be

believed’ (1991: 20). A large number of people have exhibited disbelief when first

encountering a coin-tree or when told by their companions that the trees are clustered

with coins; some, having only glanced at the coin-trees, have initially assumed that

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the coins were fungi, rot, or fissures in the bark. Upon realising that the trees are

indeed embedded with coins, their next question is invariably ‘why?’

It is, therefore, the mystery of the coin-tree which seems to attract most people.

Indeed, if the same coin-tree was an official installation in an art gallery, having been

crafted by a single artist, accompanied by an information plaque detailing that

artist’s use of materials and the symbolism they had hoped to convey, would it evoke

the same reactions (Danesi 1999: 29)? Would it captivate its observers to the same

extent? Possibly not, for it is the enigmatic nature of the coin-tree which appears to

draw people in.

8 – AESTHETIC APPRECIATION

The aesthetic qualities of coin-trees, however, do more than reel their observers in;

they constitute a large factor in people’s appreciation of them. Colonel Edington,

who visited the Isle Maree coin-tree in 1927, observed that the visual effect of the

clustered coins made the tree appear to be ‘covered with metallic scales. The scaly

covering forms armour something like what is depicted on a dragon’ (cited in

McPherson 1929: 75). Over eighty years later, a woman used the same analogy to

describe the primary coin-tree at Ingleton to her young daughter: ‘it’s scaly, like a

dragon’. Similarly, a teenage girl at Dovedale compared the coin-tree to a crocodile,

observing the scale-like appearance of the coins; at Bolton Abbey a young girl

compared the texture to that of a fish; and a boy at Snowdon described the coin-tree

as a ‘cactus’. One man, also in Dovedale, observed that the lustrous metal of the

coins contrasted against the rough surface of the trees created a ‘nice effect’, making

the structure ‘nice to look at’, while a woman at Tarn Hows expressed an almost

identical opinion, asserting that ‘it’s quite effective having the metal of the coins

against the wood of the tree. Quite a stunning contrast’.

Many other participants, likewise, commented on the colours of the coins, two

different groups at Portmeirion, for example, excitedly pointing out the ‘shiny gold

coin’ (a Polish grosz) inserted into one of the stumps. Indeed, certain coins do appear

to have been inserted for their colours, as opposed to their denominations. One

family at Grizedale, one at Snowdon, and a young girl at Becky Falls, for example,

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chose to insert silver coins because of their lustre, just as two other participants

specifically chose ‘shiny’ copper coins to insert.

This preoccupation with colour and lustre is not atypical (Clark 1986; Creighton

2000) – and it is certainly not insignificant. Young believes that ‘colour is a crucial

but little analysed part of understanding how material things can constitute social

relations’, commenting on how colours can animate objects by evoking space,

energy, and light (2006: 173). Jones and MacGregor similarly assert that colours

play a key role in an object’s ability to fascinate and, to use Gell’s (2002) term,

captivate us. They believe that there are two primary aspects of colour which cause

neurophysiological effects: firstly, ‘the material qualities of the coloured object, its

relative degree of sparkle, brilliance or shininess’, and secondly, the ‘effect of colour

on patterning’, made all the more striking if bright colours are juxtaposed against

dull ones (2002: 14). Both of these effective aspects of colour are present in the coin-

trees; the copper colour of the coins, for example, has a long history of being

considered aesthetically pleasing (Keates 2002: 111), and the contrast of the

luminous metal against the dull bark of the wood creates an even greater dazzling

effect, this juxtaposition playing a large role in Gell’s ‘technology of enchantment’.

Jones and MacGregor, however, point out that colour is a temporal component of the

environment, influenced by the level of sunlight, the time of day, and the season

(2002: 10; see also Tilley 2004). This temporality is highly evident in coin-trees,

which are much more striking (and hence much more captivating) in the sunlight,

with the light reflecting from the coins, making the contrast between the brilliant

shine of the metal and the dull surface of the tree much more pronounced (Fig. 63),

producing what Saunders (1999) terms the ‘aesthetics of brilliance’. In damp

weather, on the other hand, the colours of the coins are dulled and the bark of the

tree is made slippery and shiny, causing the contrast between the two materials to

become much more subdued. The coins are far less distinguishable from the surface

of the trees, and the coin-trees become far less noticeable (Fig. 64).

The placements of the coins, which – as noted above – often appear to follow

geometric patterns (Figs. 19-23, 57), also contribute to people’s aesthetic

appreciation. Gell writes that ‘[p]atterns by their multiplicity and the difficulty we

have in grasping their mathematical or geometrical basis by mere visual inspection’

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causes what he terms ‘unfinished business’ (1998: 80), slowing perception down so

that the observer can never fully grasp the observed. Upon seeing a coin-tree for the

first time, many people are awed by the sheer volume of coins which have been

moulded into vast, repetitive patterns.

It is this awe and this striking physicality which people seem to remember most

clearly after they have engaged with a coin-tree. For example, in June 2012 I

attended a wedding and was seated next to a man who asked me about my

occupation. When I described the topic of my thesis to him, he broke into a smile

and withdrew his mobile telephone, before proceeding to show me numerous

photographs he had taken of the coin-trees at Portmeirion, several months before. He

knew nothing of the custom or its history, but he could clearly recall how he had felt

upon first seeing the coin-tree, describing them as ‘amazing’. He asked me about the

patterning of coins in other coin-trees and queried whether they were all so

‘symmetrical’, indicating that in the case of this individual, at least, it is the

appearance of the coin-trees that dominates the memory of them.

The aesthetics of the coin-trees, in conclusion, play three primary roles in people’s

engagements with them: firstly, they attract; secondly, they influence people’s

experiences of them at the time of participation; and thirdly, they dominate people’s

memories of them after participation. This key role played by physical appearance

reveals that coin-trees are not simply passive objects which people react to; they are

active subjects which, through the power of their aesthetic qualities, have the agency

to draw people in, to captivate them, and to create vivid and lasting images in

people’s memories.

9 – INTERACTIVITY

If coin-trees are so greatly appreciated for their aesthetic qualities, does it follow that

they are awarded the same levels of protection as the paintings and sculptures that sit

in art galleries across the world? It would appear not, for with the exception of the

Ardmaddy coin-tree (Appendices 2.9 & 5), protected behind a fence to deter cattle

(Fig. 9), every other coin-tree in the British Isles has been left unprotected, from both

nature and the sites’ visitors, as discussed in much greater detail in Chapter 7. With

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no measures being taken to either discourage or encourage the custom of the coin-

tree, it is interesting to observe how the public respond to these structures. With no

fences or grim-faced security guards to deter people from approaching the trees,

visitors tend to engage with coin-trees in a very different manner than they would a

piece of art in a gallery, where observers primarily do what their title suggests: they

observe. That is, after all, the activity which art galleries and museums are primarily

intended to foster.

Art historian Candlin (2008; 2010) notes how museums and galleries are

ocularcentric; they are ‘pre-eminently visual spaces’ (2010: 2). Likewise, Classen

and Howes write that in a museum environment, ‘objects are colonized by the gaze’

(2006: 200), while Feldman comments on the ‘visual hegemony that dominates

museum discourse’ (2006: 246). Museums and art galleries, however, do not simply

foster visual experience; they actively discourage tactile engagement. Whilst some

practices have been implemented to offer tactic engagement, such as tactile replicas

(Spece and Gallace 2008), it is usually with objects of lesser quality or ‘value’

(Candlin 2008: 18), and as Chatterjee notes, ‘is often treated as a special activity

rather than a right’ (2008: 2). Generally, museums and galleries stymie and

stigmatise physical contact, keeping the more ‘valuable’ objects behind glass cases

and beyond reach (Candlin 2010), marshalling people’s experiences to the point

where sight is the only sense associated with gallery/museum environments.

Coin-trees, however, are not in gallery/museum environments, and evidently people

are not inclined to adhere to the same etiquette. They perceive the coin-tree as a

structure not to be simply looked at but to be interacted with, and it is this interactive

nature that appears to appeal to many people; the fact that the public can approach,

touch, and contribute to – rather than simply observe – what is essentially a piece of

communal art. Candlin believes that, in order to understand an object, attention must

be paid to how people physically engage with it: what they touch and how they touch

(2010: 190). For the coin-tree, it appears that very little is off-limits.

People view these structures as something to sit on – indeed, the coin-trees at Brock

Bottom (Appendix 2.13) and Corfe Castle (Appendix 2.16) were originally intended

as benches (pers. comm. Greg Robinson, Countryside Ranger, 06/03/2012; Phil

Stuckey, Area Ranger, 16/04/2012), although, as one teenage boy at Dovedale

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remarked, coin-trees do not make particularly comfortable seats. People climb on

these structures in order to photograph them at different angles. In Ardboe, Northern

Ireland (Appendix 2.8), local resident Pat Grimes recalled how he and his friends

would climb the coin-tree as children (pers. comm. 07/04/2012). At Corfe Castle, a

young child walked along the coin-tree (Fig. 65). At Tarn Hows, a teenage boy

scrambled beneath the coin-tree, just to see if he could fit. At Ingleton, the primary

coin-tree was climbed on by several children (Figs. 66-67) – one boy even claiming

that he could not get down – and two different groups averred that it was ‘lucky’ to

walk under the archway formed by the tree. At Dovedale, a man used the coin-trees

to scrape the mud from his hiking boots, and at Snowdon, one of the coin-tree posts

is often employed as a helpful support-structure, with many walkers gripping it for

balance as they ascend or descend the rocky steps (Fig. 68) – whilst for a dog, the

coin-tree constituted a convenient post to empty its bladder against.

Simple touching, however, appears to be the prominent mode of physical interaction

with the coin-trees. One woman at Tarn Hows commented on how the greatest

appeal of the coin-tree is the freedom to just ‘go up to it, touch it, feel it. It makes it

fun, interactive’, whilst another person asserted that the ‘best thing about these trees

is that the kids can just come up to them, touch them.’ Indeed, even people who did

not insert a coin still stopped at the trees to touch them, often running their hands

along the edges of the coins and commenting on how ‘weird’ it felt. A mother and

daughter at Dovedale, for instance, seemed to find great pleasure in trailing their

fingers over the surface of the primary coin-tree, feeling the contrast of the smooth,

cold bumps of the clustered coins against the warm, grainy texture of the tree. Other

parents at Ingleton, Malham, and Tarr Steps also encouraged their children to ‘feel

the coins’.

Why do these people so often employ haptic perception in their engagements with

coin-trees? Psychologist Field would claim that it is a symptom of ‘touch-hunger’, a

term she coined in her work on our society’s prevailing ‘look but don’t touch’

attitude (2001). Since the late 20th

century, museums and art galleries have attempted

to rectify this attitude by introducing tactual education in their exhibitions and

events, hoping to foster what Candlin has termed ‘intimate engagement’ with objects

(2010: 141). Touch exhibitions, such as Nicholas Bourriaud’s Touch: Relational Art

from the 1990s to Now, a 2002 exhibition at the San Francisco Art Institute, have

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provided haptic access to the public (Candlin 2010: 152-186), and have gone some

way in highlighting the benign and, as Candlin termed it, ‘reparative’ nature of touch

(2010: 7). Likewise, the Touch Me exhibition at the Victoria and Albert Museum in

2005 and the Tactical Explorations exhibition in the Northlight Gallery,

Huddersfield in 2006 (Onol 2008) were designed to emphasise the vital importance

of touch in our perceptions of objects. The co-curator of the Touch Me exhibition,

Hugh Aldersey-Williams, claims that we live in a ‘touch-starved society’ (2005: 4),

and he wished to prove that ‘[h]ow things feel is critical to our response to them’

(2005: 4).

That we do indeed live in a ‘touch-starved society’ is a concept affirmed by the

events following Robert Morris’ 1971 exhibition at the Tate Gallery. Morris created

numerous exhibits in which the design was for visitors to interact with the structures

on display; to touch, climb, and balance on them. After a mere five days the

exhibition was closed – not because of a lack of popularity, but for the opposite

reason. It had become too popular. Visitors engaged with the exhibits so exuberantly

that the structures suffered from excessive wear and tear, and several of the visitors

were injured through their overly-enthusiastic physical interaction (Candlin 2010:

167ff).

Evidently, when given an inch people will take a mile, and if this example reveals

one aspect of human psychology, it is that society’s stigma of touch has caused

people to want to touch all the more – and rightly so. Barnard and Brazelton

maintain that touch is the ‘foundation of experience’, playing a key role in learning

and development (1990), while Critchley (2008) and McGlone (2008) describe it as

evocatively linked with emotion, and Weber stresses how vital it is to

communication, describing tactile engagement as ‘integrative and synthesizing’

(1990: 14). From infancy, humans use touch to gain information about their

environments (Tuan 1977; Warren 1982: 84); through touch we can learn about an

object’s material qualities: weight, texture, temperature, density, strength, and

stability (Lederman 1982: 131). Touching provides us with a much more intimate

knowledge of an object (Classen 2005: 277), subsequently ‘unlocking’ that object

(Romanek and Lynch 2008: 277), and evidently this is what the participants of the

coin-tree custom crave.

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10 – ‘TAGGING’ TREES

The interactive nature of the coin-trees extends beyond touching, sitting on, and

climbing over; at the centre of this custom seems to be a sense of collective effort. A

person who stumbles upon a coin-tree can be more than an observer; they can be a

contributor. They do not simply look at the coin-tree; they add to it. Indeed, it seems

to be the sense of contribution that motivates participation; people are attracted to the

idea that they are contributing something of their own – their coins – to a communal

piece.

At Aira Force, for instance, one woman stated that inserting a coin is ‘leaving

something of yourself for others to see’, whilst three others claimed they had

participated because they had wanted to ‘add to’ this ‘pretty’ and ‘interesting’

monument. Another woman likened the custom to graffiti – ‘only artistic graffiti’ –

while at Portmeirion, one man claimed that inserting a coin into a coin-tree is ‘a nice

way of saying ‘I’ve been here’. Like graffiti, carving your name into a tree’. These

customs, he maintained, ‘are about leaving your mark’, an expression also used by

participants at Ingleton, Tarr Steps, and St. Nectan’s Glen, where one woman

declared that ‘you can’t come to a place like this and not leave your mark’.

It appears that the psychology behind graffiti – that innate need to proclaim ‘I was

here’ – is also at the basis of the coin-tree custom. As Campbell writes, ‘human

beings, as a collective species, seem to have a desire to embellish objects,

themselves, and the environment’ (2001: 117). People wish to collectively adorn

public places with items and images that were not originally designed to be there –

from coins in a tree to spray-painted images on a wall – in order to create a

communal (and slightly defiant) public monument. There are examples of this from

across the world and throughout history (see Reisner 1971).

The Berlin Wall is a particularly illustrative example of collective embellishment

motivated by imitation. This 4.5 metre-high and 166 kilometre-long wall was

swathed in graffiti, the product of thousands of people making their contributions,

adding their pattern or image to the collective whole. But the ‘artists’ were not just

the hooded youths we stereotypically associate with graffiti; everybody was

contributing, and as Waldenburg observes:

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By 1987 the Wall was full…Everyone had something to say to everyone now:

the early pensioner, the late migrant, the neighbourhood kids, the anonymous

alcoholic and the famous artist…huge numbers allowed themselves to be jerked

out of their role as passive recipients to become active participants (1990: 14)

These passive recipients became active participants through imitation, just as the

participants of the coin-tree custom make the transition. They observe others

contribute to a collective embellishment and they follow suit, and as with coin-trees,

graffiti evinces the dynamic nature of imitative action. Curtis’ online project,

‘Graffiti Archaeology’ (2005), for example, presents graffiti as an animative and

protean form of cumulative practice. By creating timelapse collages of photographs

of graffiti-embellished walls over a number of years, Curtis demonstrates that such

pieces of human expression are not simply added to, but are constantly changing,

with graffiti artists/writers competing, collaborating, and submerging each other’s

work, creating something new each time.

Today there are similarly imitative yet dynamic collective embellishments in cities

such as Paris, Rome, Budapest, Moscow, St. Petersburg, and New York, in the form

of love-lock accumulations (Fig. 69-72). In a largely 21st-century practice, couples

write their names or initials onto padlocks and then attach them to structures – most

often bridges, such as the Ponte Milvio (Fisher 2007) or the Brooklyn Bridge (Miller

2011). They then throw the keys into the river below to symbolise their commitment

to each other. In Moscow, metal tree-like structures have been erected specifically

for this purpose on Luzhkov Bridge, whilst on the Pont des Arts in Paris, the

accumulation of love-locks reached such quantities that one of the bridge’s railings

collapsed under their weight in June 2014 (Willsher 2014).

This form of collective embellishment links in with the concept of imitation

discussed above. In an article in CBS News, one family from Canada admitted that

when they saw people chain padlocks to the Brooklyn Bridge, they ‘just sort of

joined the pack, so to speak. If there’s any semblance to it, it’s kind of lost to us’

(Miller 2011). As with the coin-trees, the majority of people appear to participate

simply because others have done so. As Niccolò Machiavelli wrote in 1532: ‘Men

nearly always follow the tracks made by others and proceed in their affairs by

imitation’ (1532: 49); this appears to be as true today as it was in the 16th

century.

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It is unsurprising that trees should be similarly utilised for graffiti. Names and

initials have been carved into many of the trees on Isle Maree (Fig. 73), a custom

which has survived since at least the mid-1800s, when Mitchell described the tree

surrounding the sacred well as ‘covered with initials. A rude M, with an anchor

below it, tells of the seaman’s noted credulity and superstitious character. Two sets

of initials, with a date between, and below a heart pierced by an arrow, probably

record the visit of a love-sick couple’ (1863: 253).

At Bolton Abbey and Claife Station there are prominent examples of trees being

utilised in this way (Figs. 74-75), and at Aira Force, Dovedale, Brock Bottom, Fairy

Glen, Malham, Ingleton, High Force, Corfe Castle, Becky Falls, St. Nectan’s Glen,

and Snowdon there are trees/posts which are adorned with both graffiti and coins

(Figs. 76-80). The granite cliffs at High Force were also covered in graffiti (Fig. 81),

and at St. Nectan’s Glen hundreds of pieces of slate, balanced on the cliff-face

behind the primary coin-tree, have been engraved with names, initials, and messages

(Figs. 82-83). I witnessed a slightly different tradition at Hardcastle Crags; wads of

clay had been fixed to the bark of a tree and faces carved into them – a slightly more

creative method of saying ‘I was here’ (Fig. 84).

To an extent, these people are participating for the sake of the larger work; their

additions constitute only very small portions of the greater picture. Their

contributions are anonymous and merely one of many. As Macrow described Queen

Victoria’s contribution to the coin-tree on Isle Maree: ‘It is now without doubt as

tarnished and bent as the rest – it may even be one of those which have fallen on to

the ground beneath. So Time, the great leveller, treats alike the gifts of princes and

paupers’ (1953: 89). Queen Victoria’s coin is indistinguishable from the rest;

conducting fieldwork at the site, for example, there is no method I could employ to

ascertain which of the coins she inserted.

In their collective anonymity, the coins – in the case of Macrow’s description – have

come to represent equality. Indeed, economist Wolman asserts that ‘many people see

cash’s anonymity as an almost sacred virtue’ (2012: 7). It is the very nature of coins

that they cannot be traced to their previous owners; they are alienable,

indistinguishable, thus constituting the archetypal anonymous deposit. This is,

however, only one way of viewing the coin as a deposit.

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11 – INDIVIDUATION

Returning to the analogy of the Berlin Wall, it is true that each individual addition is,

in the strictest sense of the term, anonymous – unless, of course, the ‘artist’ has

signed their full name beneath their contribution. However, graffiti actually has the

opposite purpose, which Stewart has termed ‘a matter of individuation’ (1988: 165),

and what Abel and Buckley describe as ‘announcements of one’s identity, a kind of

testimonial to one’s existence in a world of anonymity’ (1977: 16). These

contributions to collective embellishments, therefore, are not designed to uphold

anonymity, but to defy it.

When a teenager spray-paints their ‘tag’ – their signature, pseudonym, or monogram

– on public property, it is what Waldenburg dubs a ‘form of basic self-expression’

(1990: 12). That tag represents their identity. Likewise, when a person scratches their

initials into a library desk or the wall of a public toilet, it is simply a manifestation of

what Reisner calls the ‘“I was here” syndrome’ (1971: 70); they want to leave their

individual mark, their handprint. In such a way can material things act as metaphors

for, and constructions of, ‘the self’, as Brück observes (2004, 2006).

As discussed above, this desire to leave one’s mark is a key factor in people’s

participation in the coin-tree custom. The participants do not view their coins as

anonymous deposits but as personal objects – they are contributing their coin

amongst other people’s coins. My observations, for example, reveal many of the

participants to be highly concerned with remembering which coin is theirs. At

Portmeirion, a couple from London hoped that they could return in 10 years and still

be able to identify their coins, whilst at Tarr Steps, a father told his young daughter

to ‘remember which ones are yours for next time’. At Dovedale, a couple from

Birmingham, who had visited the site the year before, hoped to identify the coins

they had inserted previously; they were unsuccessful, despite having deliberately

bent their coins in order to distinguish them.

Other participants at Dovedale tried similar tactics. Two young boys bent their coins

over during insertion in order to recognise them on their return journey along the

path (in this case, they were successful). A young girl from Kidsgrove inserted a 10

pence piece specifically so that it would be distinguishable from the many copper

coins; another girl from Bakewell chose to insert a shiny 20 pence piece for the same

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reason. At Malham, a woman was able to identify the coin she had inserted on her

visit in 2011: a 20 pence piece.

Choosing to insert silver or particularly lustrous copper coins is a clear defiance of

the anonymity Macrow discussed with regards to the Isle Maree coin-tree (1953: 89).

These people intend for their deposits to be distinguished from the majority – as one

woman on Snowdon admitted, she had inserted a five pence piece because she had

wanted to be ‘different’ – and as Jones and MacGregor observe, ‘[c]olour is

powerful in the construction of difference’ (2002: 12). Kemmers and Myrberg,

looking broadly at the archaeology of coins, note the importance of colour in

people’s perceptions and uses of coins (2011: 95-96), whilst Myrberg focuses

specifically on colour in her work on 13th

-century coins from Gotland in the Baltic

Sea (2010b).

The royal colours of purple and red offer another example of colour having been

widely used to distinguish one from many, and may have been the reason behind the

deposition of a two pence piece at Fairy Glen which had been painted red, and was

clearly distinguishable from the surrounding coins (Fig. 85). Red obviously

possesses various strong metaphorical associations (Myrberg 2010b: 98), and while

it is impossible to deduce the specific reason this colour was chosen (as a visual

metaphor, a favourite colour, or simply lack of other options), it is reasonable to

assume that the choice to alter the colour of the coin was a method of demarcation.

Likewise, one lustrous copper coin will be easily demarcated from hundreds, even

thousands, of dull coins – although as the coin will tarnish over time, this is only a

temporary method of distinction.

The choice to insert higher denominations, such as one and two pound coins (25 £1

coins have been recorded and one £2 coin), may simply have been the result of the

depositor having no other options. However, it is also possible that the participants

wished to differentiate their deposits – and thereby themselves – from the masses. As

one participant at Aira Force exclaimed upon noticing a £1 coin inserted into the

tree, ‘someone’s rich!’

Such examples of conspicuous consumption are certainly not without precedent in

ritual contexts. Bradley considers the role of prestige – ‘the common currency of

non-market societies’ (1990: 137) – in ritual deposits of the Late Bronze Age, when

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lavish offerings presented to deities were intended to lend themselves to ‘the quest

for personal prestige’ (1990: 188). Likewise, examining ritual deposits in Archaic

Greece, Day observes that ‘competitive self-presentation or social display on the

dedicator’s part played a major role in dedicatory practice’ (2010: 182); there was a

social role to votive offerings just as there was a religious role, and dedicants aimed

to project their status by dedicating particular objects. However, it is not only the

elite who aim to distinguish their deposits from others’; smaller, more modest

objects could equally be personalised.

At the watery deposition site of Fiskerton in Lincolnshire, for example, 152 objects

dating from the Iron Age to the later Roman period (plus three objects probably from

the medieval period) have been discovered, ranging from military items, such as

swords and spearheads; workers’ tools, such as hammerheads; and items which

possess what Parker Pearson and Field have described as ‘feminine associations’

(2003: 176), such as a jet ring, amber beads, and a copper-alloy bracelet. A person’s

gender and occupation, therefore, could be reflected in their deposit. The fact that

many of these objects also appear to have been used before their deposition,

exhibiting signs of wear (Parker Pearson and Field 2003: 176), indicate that they

bear traces of their users/depositors – and are hence all the more personalised.

Likewise at Bath, objects ranging from a tin mask and bronze pin containing a pearl,

to a barbed bronze fish-hook have been discovered in the Temple of Sulis Minerva,

together with 34 engraved gemstones, probably of Flavian or Trajanic date (1st-2

nd

centuries AD). These gemstones bear a vast array of impressions: Jupiter, Cupid, a

circus scene, a charioteer, a lion, a goat, horses, cattle, an eagle, a trophy of arms, to

name only some. Although Cunliffe believes that in this particular case the 34

gemstones were probably deposited by a single person, these Roman intaglios surely

offered much opportunity for the personalisation of deposits; a soldier could

commission a gemstone engraved with a trophy of arms; a farmer, a horse, cattle,

and ears of corn (Cunliffe 1969: 76-79). In this case, even mass produced items can

be individuated.

However, Snodgrass (2006) comments on the difficulties facing a dedicant who is

offering an object identical to the items deposited by many others. Certain

dedications, he writes, are:

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too numerous and too cheap to be seen as motivated by competitive

ostentation. To dedicate one’s own bronze dress-pin can hardly be classed

as conspicuous consumption, especially when one is adding it to a

collection of which the archaeological residue, over two and a half

millennia later, itself may run to thousands (2006: 265-266)

The same applies to coins in a coin-tree. When adding one coin to thousands (48,000

in the case of Ingleton (Appendix 2.25); 26,000 at Aira Force (Appendix 2.7)) – an

action which is performed more often than not through imitation – surely a sense of

homogeneity and anonymity prevails. And yet, just as people defy the uniformity of

their offices, desk-spaces, and school-lockers with personalised adornments, people

are determined to defy homogeneity by utilising objects as ‘emphatic assertions of

personality’ (Harris 1991: 203).

Accumulations provide the ideal opportunity for this construction of identity

(Gamble 2007: 116). For example, the practice of affixing padlocks to love-lock

bridges and structures (as discussed above) may not seem to offer the ideal

opportunity for making assertions of individuation and personality, for most

padlocks are relatively similar. And yet the depositors have discovered creative

methods of not only distinguishing their padlocks from the rest, but of utilising the

padlocks as metaphors of their identities, a process particularly notable on the love-

lock ‘trees’ at Luzhkov Bridge, Moscow. Not only are the padlocks here engraved

with the depositors’ initials, but many have been elaborately decorated; they have

been painted, adorned with patterns, embellished with stickers and textiles (Fig. 72).

Some have been wrapped in knitted ‘jackets’, suggesting a high level of planning,

while in other cases a clear display of conspicuous consumption is evident in the

form of impractically large padlocks, obviously having been commissioned for this

specific purpose; a boast that the depositors’ love for each other is ‘bigger and better’

than that of other depositors?

Likewise, if the depositor of a coin in a coin-tree wishes to distinguish their coin

from others’, as a testimony to their individual personality rather than to anonymity,

then they must find ways to differentiate it. The selection of particularly lustrous

coins is one obvious method, as is the decision to insert coins of higher

denominations – an obvious (albeit possibly subconscious) claim of status. The

insertion of coins into hard-to-reach places, such as particularly high on a living tree,

is another method; the family of three who clambered up the steep bank to the root-

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end of the primary coin-tree at Tarn Hows (see above) specifically wanted their coin

to be inserted in a less ‘heavily populated’ area of the tree. Depositing coins into a

new, or less-densely coined, tree is possibly another example of a participant wishing

to distinguish their deposit from others.

Depositing a different kind of object altogether is, however, the most obvious

method of differentiation (Figs. 86-89): screws (Aira Force, Bolton Abbey,

Grizedale, Ingleton, Isle Maree, Malham), nails (Aira Force, Bolton Abbey,

Dovedale, Grizedale, Hardcastle Crags, Ingleton, Isle Maree, Malham, Snowdon), a

drawing pin (Stock Ghyll), hair clips (Isle Maree), an earring (Isle Maree), a

necklace (Isle Maree), a badge (Isle Maree), a metal token (Aira Force), semi-

precious stones (St. Nectan’s Glen), ribbons (St. Nectan’s Glen), a beer-bottle cap

(St. Nectan’s Glen), and metal plaques engraved with names (Aira Force). Were

these objects deposited to declare the depositor’s individuality?

This preoccupation with personalising a deposit may also explain why initials

accompany several coin offerings (Fig. 90). For example, a two pence piece inserted

into a coin-tree at Dovedale has the letter ‘R’ written on it in silver pen; was the

coin’s depositor (whose name presumably begins with ‘R’) hoping to identify their

coin on their return journey? Likewise, on the coin-tree in Brock Bottom arrows

have been scratched into the tree (one of which is labelled ‘E’), pointing towards

certain coins; at Snowdon, ‘MB’ may have been scratched onto a coin-tree for a

similar reason. An identical method is evident at High Force, while at Ingleton, the

initials ‘R & L’ have been imprinted onto a two pence piece, and 36 coins have been

distributed in a pattern to form the initials ‘A.B’ (or ‘B.B’), encased within a

rectangle of coins.

This method of personalising coins through the use of graffiti is not unique to coin-

trees, nor to modern-day Britain. The practice is evident in 12th

-century AD Corinth,

where a hoard of 30 gold nomismata of Manuel I (1143-1180) was uncovered in the

1938 excavations of Old Corinth, buried in the fill of a road. 14 of these coins had

graffiti scratched onto their surfaces, including letters such as ‘K’, ‘T’, and ‘H’ (Fig.

91), and Harris suggests that this graffiti may have been used as ‘identification

marks’ (1939: 273). By physically associating the coin with the person, the coin

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essentially becomes that person’s ‘tag’, their expression of identity and

individuation.

Since antiquity, ritual deposits have been ideally associated with the depositor’s

identity, such as model limbs and personal items, from clothes and jewellery to locks

of hair (Dowden 2000: 176). These objects are not designed to simply represent the

depositor; they are designed to be the depositor. As Tilley writes, the ‘thing is the

person and the person is the thing’ (2006: 63), and this merging of objects with

people extends to more than ritual deposits. Gell terms this merge the ‘objectification

of personhood’ (1998: 74), which subsequently leads to ‘distributed personhood’,

whereby the deposit becomes a detached part – a ‘spin-off’ – of the depositor (1998:

104). This process is clearly evident throughout history. Chapman, for example,

writing of prehistoric south-eastern Europe, notes how ‘the process of objectification

is the key element of artefact creation – not so much production as reproduction’

(2000: 132). The artefact is personalised through its assimilation with its creator.

Votive objects have been similarly personalised throughout history. Dedicatory

statues presented at temples, in ancient Greece and the Near East for example, were

often designed to represent the dedicant – and subsequently ‘stand in’ for them, as a

simulacrum or substitute (Keesling 2003). Stieber believes that the majority of

ancient votive images were ‘intended as surrogates for their dedicants’ (2004: 39),

and Napier asserts that this personalisation of votive objects was believed to greatly

aid in the establishment of relationships between dedicants and the object’s

otherworldly recipients (1986: 46). A similar mentality may be evident in the

plethora of votive portraits dedicated to the shrines of saints across 14th

- and 15th

-

century Europe, such as the numerous silver and gold effigies commissioned by

Charles the Bold (1433-1477), each presented to shrines in fulfilment of a vow

(Velden 2000). Velden opines that votive portraits were intended to evoke ‘the

presence of an individual rather than testifying in anonymity’ (2000: 239).

12 – MONEY AND METONYMY

According to this concept of the ‘objectification of personhood’, when a person

inserts a coin into a coin-tree, they are leaving a part of themselves behind. Coins,

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however, are not particularly personal items. We do not craft our own coins and,

although many of the coin-tree deposits have been actively personalised, the vast

majority of them have not. When viewed en-mass, a coin-tree would still be

considered a largely anonymous accumulation; coins are after all, as outlined above,

often valued for their anonymity (Wolman 2012: 7). However, they are not only

viewed as anonymous objects, but as transient.

Whatever coins we have in our purses and pockets are only temporary residents

there. The owner of a coin only represents a brief, inconsequential stage in the

biography of that coin and vice versa: the coin will no doubt pass in and out of the

owner’s possession swiftly and casually, and once it is out of that owner’s

possession, it will retain no link with them. They share only a nugatory and easily

severed relationship, one which will no doubt be repeated many more times in both

the person’s and the coin’s biographies. In this sense, the coin is an alienable object,

in that it can be easily divorced from its possessor, as opposed to an inalienable

object, which is metonymically linked with its producer/possessor (Weiner 1992;

Brück 2004: 313; Fowler 2004: 58).

However, as Thomas asserts, a thing ‘is not immutable’ (1991: 28); an object must

be analysed for what it has become – how it has been appropriated and

recontextualised – not simply for what it was made to be. Just as a person’s

biography can take an unpredicted turn, so too can an object’s. And in this case, it is

the coin’s biography which suddenly veers down an unfamiliar path. When a person,

standing before a coin-tree, takes a coin from their pocket or purse, that coin is an

alienable object. However, Fowler recognises that the divide between alienability

and inalienability can be crossed in certain circumstances, acknowledging that ‘all

things are potentially inalienable to some degree’ (2004: 59, emphasis in original),

and it is through performance that the coin inserted into the coin-tree transitions from

an alienable to an inalienable object.

Mitchell explores how performance can transform objects; ‘in and through

performance, objects of material culture become subjects’ (2006: 385). Therefore,

through the performance of the coin-tree custom, through the action of inserting the

coin into a coin-tree, the properties of the coin are altered. It has become the ‘index

of agency’, to use Gell’s term (1998: 13); it has been removed from the realm of

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secular exchange and has been recreated as a ritual object – and as a personal object.

It is through this recreation that the depositor becomes inalienable from the deposit.

And although the depositor will likely walk away and never see this coin again, it is

their coin now, in a way that it never was before. Prior to their encounter with the

coin-tree, their possession of the coin was purely physical. After the encounter,

however, the tie between them has become metonymical; ironically, it is through

relinquishing the coin that they gain any significant possession of it.

13 – THE COIN AS MEMENTO; THE COIN AS SACRED?

The participants’ desires to return to the coin-tree site at a later date in order to see

their coin – as implicitly expressed by visitors at Dovedale, Portmeirion, Malham,

and Tarr Steps, and certainly implied at other coin-tree sites – is a nostalgic

sentiment, endowing the coin with the status of a memento. Physically, the coin is the

antithesis to the souvenir or keepsake; it is not taken or kept, but is deposited, left.

However, it is still an object which elicits the memory – indeed, constructs the

memory (Hodder 2012: 24) – of a place and an experience. Stewart (1993), writing of

the ‘souvenir’, describes the metonymical link between object and event/experience,

a link which certainly applies to the coin in a coin-tree, which acts as a snapshot of

the depositor’s engagement with that coin-tree; an object which is intended to evoke

a future memory of a past event.

In this sense, the coin as memento fits one of Gell’s most basic binary relations

between the artist (the depositor) and the index (the deposit): the index responding as

patient to the artist’s agency (1998: 33). ‘The index is,’ Gell writes, ‘in these

instances, a congealed ‘trace’ of the artist’s creative performance’ (1998: 33). An

object absorbs part of its creator, becoming a snapshot of their creative experience; a

‘congealed residue of performance and agency in object-form’ (Gell 1998: 68).

Likewise, the coin becomes a physical trace of the participant’s experience at the

coin-tree site.

The performance of the coin-tree custom, as discussed above, removes the coins

from a secular realm of monetary exchange – but where does it move them to?

Suddenly, not only are these coins personalised, inalienable objects, but they are

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inviolable and, to an extent, sacred. Participants at Aira Force and St. Nectan’s Glen,

for example, described the inserted coins as ‘offerings’, whilst the woman from

Staffordshire at Tarn Hows explained why she believed people should not remove

coins from either coin-trees or fountains: ‘I think it’s cheeky. Things like this,

they’re almost sacrosanct.’ Indeed, there does appear to be a certain taboo

surrounding the removal of coins.

It is interesting to note that few people would feel any guilt over pocketing a coin

they find on the pavement, and yet at most coin-tree sites I have observed parents

chiding their children for trying to remove coins. A father at Tarr Steps admonished

his son for removing coins by telling him that he was ‘stealing people’s wishes’, and

four different groups have actually returned other people’s coins, which had fallen to

the floor, to their original slots. Several participants have made an effort to secure

their coins, ensuring that they would not easily fall/be pulled out, one woman

admitting that she had not ‘wanted somebody else to come along and take it.’

A man in Malham, not convinced that his coin was secure, used his pen-knife to

create a deeper slit and then hammered his coin in once more. When another man

asked me if I would remove the coins during my fieldwork in order to check their

years of mint, his wife seemed appalled by the notion, exclaiming ‘surely you

wouldn’t do that’ – to which I assured her I would not. And at Ingleton, seven coins

have actually been nailed to the tree (Fig. 92), demonstrating not only a desire to

prevent their removal, but also a greater level of intentionality, illustrating that not

all coins represent casual deposition.

There are certainly exceptions to this notion of the inviolability of these coins. One

man at Portmeirion appeared to have removed a five pence piece, but upon seeing

me quickly returned it. He claimed that it had fallen into his hand and was returning

it so as not to attract ‘bad luck’, but the wry comments of his partner indicate that he

was simply embarrassed to have been caught ‘red-handed’. At Hardcastle Crags, the

primary coin-tree was stolen in its entirety three years ago (pers. comm. Andrew

Marsh, National Trust Warden, 27/09/2011), and more recently, a coin-tree at High

Force, County Durham, was damaged by vandals, who proceeded to take all of the

coins (pers. comm. Steve Gillard, Visitor Attraction Manager, 14/07/2012), points

explored in greater detail in Chapter 7.

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However, the majority of visitors appear to view the coins as ‘sacrosanct’, to the

extent that when one young man from China reached out to touch the coins, his

companion sharply admonished him, opining that he did not think it ‘would be

allowed’; his friend quickly withdrew his hand. The coins, therefore, have been

removed from the realm of the secular and the ‘everyday’, and are now perceived as

precious and inviolate. Through the performance of the coin-tree ‘ritual’, the coins

have transitioned from being alienable and profane objects, and have become

inalienable, almost sacred, deposits. This highlights the fluid, mutable nature of

value (Thompson 1979), which Mackenzie describes as ‘not inherent...but

multivalent and variously realised’ (1991: 21). It also highlights the importance of

considering the material biography of coins (Myrberg 2010a; Kemmer and Myrberg

2011), which, according to Hall, ‘frees us from understanding objects only in terms

of their original purpose and allows us to explore their contingent, performative

roles’ (2012: 74).

It was demonstrated in Chapter 4 that coins, particularly one penny and two pence

pieces, are no longer perceived as embodying much value. Monetarily they are worth

very little. However, once they are embedded into a coin-tree, their value is no

longer ascribed economically, but spiritually or metaphorically; they transition from

disposable loose change to inviolable ritual deposits. They are imbued with new

worth, demonstrating another process of transformation induced by the performance

of this custom.

14 – THE TREE AS INCIDENTAL

The same transition occurs with the tree itself, although to a lesser extent. A few

participants have exhibited a similar respect for the tree as the majority have for the

coins. Some people appear to have feared damaging the tree; at Tarn Hows, for

example, a mother advised her daughter to insert her coin into a pre-existing crack,

not wanting to damage the bark further, whilst another mother scolded her teenage

son for climbing on a coin-tree whilst posing for a photograph. In Portmeirion, a

couple from China described the tree as a ‘special place’, as did a woman at Fairy

Glen and several participants at St. Nectan’s Glen, while another man described it as

a ‘sacred tree’.

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However, on the whole, the tree does not enjoy the same revered status as the coins it

is embedded with. While there is a taboo surrounding the removal or damage of the

coins, no such taboo appears to apply to the actual tree. As discussed above, people

interact very physically and freely with these structures, sitting on them, climbing on

them, scrambling under them, and so on. This suggests that the trees are not

generally perceived as sacred or inviolate structures.

The irrelevance of the tree itself is highlighted by the evident irrelevance of the trees’

species, a theory credited by the sheer variety of coin-tree species (numbering 11),

illustrated in Appendix 2.5.2 Species appears to have no bearing on the decision to

insert a coin into a particular tree. Only one participant has correctly identified the

species of a coin-tree – an ash tree at Dovedale – and even they were only hazarding

a guess based on the species of the surrounding trees. Many incorrect guesses have

been made, but all of the participants seemed to consider my question about species

irrelevant to the discussion, indicating that species is not a fundamental element of

this custom.

The condition of the tree appears to be slightly more relevant; a greater quantity of

logs and stumps were employed than living trees, constituting 40% and 32% of all

coin-trees respectively. However, the lower quantity of living coin-trees (17%) may

be due to practical rather than spiritual or metaphorical reasons. Fewer branches and

foliage, as well as their generally lower height, make the coins inserted into logs and

stumps more visible. Additionally, participants may be reluctant to insert their coins

into living trees, aware of the damage they may cause. It appears, therefore, that

people utilise whichever trees are most convenient (i.e. based on condition, size,

level of decomposition, visibility, and proximity to a well-traversed footpath). It is

unsurprising, therefore, that oak would be most popularly employed as a coin-tree,

for it is also the most common tree in the British Isles, with ash (another popular

species of coin-tree), coming a close second (Forestry Commission 2003: 35).

It appears, therefore, that convenience is the primary factor in the utilisation of any

given log or stump in this custom, rather than any symbolic significance. Perhaps the

trees are viewed simply as convenient and, in some cases, aesthetically pleasing

2 This is not a comprehensive list of every coin-tree species. In the majority of cases, only the living

or recently felled coin-trees were identifiable; subsequently there may be even greater variety

amongst species.

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‘altars’ upon which people can securely deposit their coins (as explored in Chapter

4). This was, after all, the first function of the earliest known coin-tree; Pennant

writes of how, on Isle Maree, a ‘stump of a tree is shewn as an altar’ (1775: 330).

Trees make particularly appropriate ‘altars’ because, in many cases, they are

physically pliant – a coin can be inserted into its bark with relative ease – and they

provide a sense of permanence; once a person’s coin is inserted securely into the

bark, it gives the impression (accurate or not) that it will remain there.

The interviews revealed other elements of the coin-trees to be wholly incidental;

location, for example. Despite many coin-trees being within 500 metres of historical

sites and monuments (see maps of sites and monuments at each coin-tree site in

Appendix 2), when asked if they were aware of these sites, many participants

seemed to find the question irrelevant. Most said that they knew of no such sites, and

the few who did listed only tourist attractions from the much wider area, such as

Beatrix Potter’s and Wordsworth’s cottages in Cumbria; the town of Portmeirion; a

slate mine on the slopes of Snowdon; Corfe Castle; and Lydford Castle.

There are a few cases whereby historical or cultural sites are relevant to the location

of a coin-tree. At St. Nectan’s Glen, the supposed nearby Medieval chapel of St.

Nectan (see Chapter 6) was cited by two participants as the reason they considered

that specific site to be ‘special’, while in the Republic of Ireland, the coin-trees’

close proximities to the sites of holy wells (Fore and Clonenagh) and religious

structures (Gougane Barra) is certainly considered pertinent. However, in the vast

majority of cases, neither the tree itself nor its location are perceived as significant or

inherently sacred.

This factor enhances the transformative abilities of the custom. The coins are

perceived as inviolate and, to an extent, sacred, not because they are embedded in an

inherently ‘special’ tree or viewed in the context of a sacred site, but because the

depositors themselves have imbued the coins with spiritual or metaphorical

significance. The participants have forged something new; their imitative actions

have created a sacrosanctity that was not there before, illustrating the transformative

powers of ritual performance.

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15 – CONCLUSION

By observing and interviewing participants of the coin-tree custom, a much greater

insight has been attained into how members of the public engage with these

structures, and subsequently how the ongoing process of their creation is maintained

with little or no impetus from a driving agent or organisation. Although every

participant’s encounter with this custom will be different to some degree, the themes

outlined in this chapter will colour many people’s experiences: an absence of prior

knowledge; an attraction to the coin-tree through ‘captivation’ or curiosity; the

impulse for physical interactivity with the structures; and the appreciation of

aesthetics.

Another notable aspect of people’s engagements with the coin-trees was an

inclination to imitate paired with the desire to individuate, two impulses proven to be

far from mutually exclusive. What has also been illustrated in this chapter is the

transformative power of ritual performance. The coin, an alienable, anonymous, and

disposable object, is constructed as both a metaphor of identity and as an inviolable

deposit through the simple act of inserting it into the bark of a tree. This construction

demonstrates that physical imitative action (inserting the coin) can create something

both personal and new. The accumulation of the coins viewed en-mass may imply

homogeneity, but each coin is different: it was inserted by a variety of people for a

variety of reasons. Every deposit represents a different depositor, who chose to

participate (and chose how to participate) for their own personal reasons, and this

malleability is the focus of the next chapter.

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CHAPTER 6: THE MUTABILITY OF MEANING

It is a bitterly cold day in Dartmoor National Park, Devon, and light snow is falling

intermittently. However, it is Easter Sunday and so, despite the weather, Dartmoor is

relatively busy. Becky Falls Woodland Park is particularly popular, perhaps

because, as well as woodland trails and a scenic waterfall, the park also offers an

indoor theatre, a children’s craft centre, and a reptile house. Many groups are,

however, braving the circuitous woodland trail, along which Becky Falls’ cluster of

coin-trees is located.

The cluster is particularly conspicuous; coin-trees are situated either side of the

footpath and the primary coin-tree, a y-shaped log propped up against a boulder, is

highly visible, with a large volume of coins both inserted into the bark and

distributed loosely on top. Labelled ‘Money Trees’, the cluster is pinpointed on the

map distributed to visitors, and there is an interpretation panel – the supporting

The coin-trees and rag-trees of St. Nectan’s Glen, Cornwall (Photograph by author)

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wooden post of which is also embedded with coins – standing directly in front of the

primary coin-tree. It states the following:

Nobody knows the exact origin of the Money Tree, but local legend has it

that many years ago, this path was the main route from the Moor to Bovey

Tracey. It is said that a huge serpent lived in the brook and ate the

occasional unsuspecting traveller. In order to ensure safe passage, the pixies

would apply an invisibility charm to any traveller, so long as they paid a

small toll by placing a coin in the tree. This ensures safe passage. However,

if you take a coin from the tree you will incur the wrath of the pixies. You

have been warned!

The primary coin-tree is difficult to miss, and when a family turns the corner of the

footpath they notice it instantly, stopping to read the interpretation panel. The mother

and father are in their forties, their two daughters aged between nine and twelve, and

they are from south Wales. They tell their daughters that the coins are ‘for the

pixies’. They are polite with me, answering a few brief questions – such as

confirming that they had never seen a coin-tree before – but the temperature seems to

be dropping and they are impatient to be on their way. When their daughters ask for

coins, they give them each a penny and then move on, leaving the girls to deposit

their coins alone.

The older girl immediately takes charge. ‘The tradition is,’ she explains to her sister,

‘that if you throw your penny and it lands on the tree then the pixies will give you a

wish’. The younger girl is eager to follow her sister’s instructions; standing on the

footpath she tosses her coin, but it lands on the ground between the two limbs of the

coin-tree. Her older sister takes aim and follows suit; her coin hits the tree but

ricochets off it, dropping to the ground also. The girls glance at each other,

hesitating, at which point their mother calls back to them. They give the coin-tree one

last dispirited glance before breaking into runs and disappearing down the footpath.

Five minutes pass and light snow begins to fall. Another family group approaches:

grandparents in their sixties and a granddaughter aged eight, from Wiltshire. They

notice the primary coin-tree instantly, but it quickly becomes clear that they had not

stumbled upon it by chance. ‘Is this the pixie tree?’ the granddaughter excitedly asks,

striding purposefully towards it. The grandmother explains to me that they had

visited Becky Falls four years before without their granddaughter, and had described

the coin-tree to her on their journey here today, promising that they would take her

to see it. The grandmother reads the interpretation panel aloud, elaborating a little

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by claiming that it is ‘lucky’ to insert a coin. Her granddaughter subsequently asks

for one, specifically requesting a five or 10 pence piece because ‘pixies like shiny

things’. Her grandparents oblige, fishing out a five pence piece, but when she asks to

hammer it into the tree, it is clear that her grandparents, eager to keep moving, are

unwilling to spend time searching for a suitable tool of percussion. ‘Leave it on top,’

the grandfather suggests, already moving on along the footpath. He assures her that

people will not steal it; ‘the pixies will keep it safe’.

1 – INTRODUCTION

The earliest known reference to the custom of inserting coins into trees was in 1860,

when Campbell referred to coins ‘placed in chinks in rocks and trees at the edge of

the “Witches’ Well”’ in Islay (1860: 134). This practice has therefore survived a

period of at least 154 years, and physical participation in the custom has changed

little over this time. The participant selects a coin of relatively low denomination and

inserts it into the bark of a tree. Granted, methods of insertion vary, but the final

result remains the same: a tree adorned with coins.

However, as formulaic as folkloric structures and customs can be, they do not

necessarily indicate homogeneity of purpose, motivation, and ‘meaning’. Folklore is

not a fixed entity; it is malleable, mutable, and many scholars have focused on this

element of mutability, demonstrating how folktales and customs have been gradually

acclimatized to modern culture. Niles (1978), for example, reviews the contemporary

modifications undergone by traditional fairy-tales; McKelvie (1963) surveys

folkloric survivals in the West Riding of Yorkshire; and Dore (1958) explores how

traditional practices have persisted in the world’s largest metropolis: Tokyo.

Folklore, though, does not only change over time; it also varies widely in the present,

and the primary objective of this chapter is to consider the variegated contemporary

interpretations of the coin-tree custom. As Skorupski argues, ‘to explain a ritual is to

explain why it is performed’ (1976: 46-47); a folk-custom can only be contextualized

with an understanding of why the practitioners – the ‘folk’ themselves – participate

in it. However, too often assumptions are made concerning these reasons (Wuthnow

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1989: 124), and the most misleading inference is that of homogeneity and fixed

‘meaning’.

In 1985, Honko posed the following questions:

Our concept of meaning is derived from a linguistic stereotype maintained

by dictionaries, according to which meaning is conceived of as verbal,

clear-cut, and stable. But is it so? What if meaning were something totally

different, namely, to a large extent non-verbal, amorphous, changing…and

of relatively short duration…? (1985: 38)

Honko presents ‘meaning’ as a mutable, transient, and varied aspect of folklore,

demonstrating that any endeavour to deduce a single meaning of a custom – the

meaning – is both misguided and misleading. When a custom is observed by multiple

participants, in numbers ranging from several to several million, how can one single

motivation be ascribed to every individual? Granted, physical actions can be widely

imitated; participation in folk customs tends to be uniform, formulaic, and ritualized.

However, humans are emotionally heterogeneous creatures, and thus the reasons

behind participation – and the ‘meanings’ ascribed to the custom – will be as diverse

as the participants themselves (Houlbrook 2014).

2 – APPLYING PURPOSE

A discussion of the contemporary folkloric purposes of the coin-tree may seem

overdue, but it has waited until now simply because any assigning of purpose occurs

surprisingly late in the chronology of a person’s engagement with a coin-tree.

Indeed, it perhaps would not occur at all if the participants were not prompted in

their interviews to consider what the purposes of the custom might be. Unless a

participant is with a child or a child themselves (an element explored below), then,

unprompted, they are not likely to discuss what they believe the purpose of the coin-

trees to be. Indeed, when asked why they had participated in the custom, many

appeared nonplussed; despite having inserted coins into a coin-tree mere seconds

before my question, they could not offer me a firm reason for why they had done so.

In fact, many of the participants seemed disconcerted or embarrassed by my

attention, and they were eager to assure me that they had not participated in the

custom because they were ‘superstitious’ but simply because others had done so.

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Others seemed to believe that any purpose assigned to the coin-tree was incidental; it

was the pleasing aesthetics and the interactivity fostered by the coin-tree that had

appealed to them. For many of the participants, therefore, the themes discussed in

Chapter 5 – imitation, art and aesthetics, and interactivity – are the primary

motivations behind participation. There were, however, other purposes proposed for

the coin-trees.

Many participants, when asked to suggest a purpose, proposed that the custom

stemmed from some form of ‘superstition’ or ‘folklore’, to use their words, but they

could only guess at the origins or specific meanings. Indeed, the words ‘my guess

is…’, ‘I’m guessing…’, and ‘I have no idea, but…’ littered people’s responses, and

many respondents answered my questions with tentative questions of their own: ‘is it

a good luck thing?’; ‘is it a wishing thing?’; ‘is it some sort of folklore?’ Their lack

of solid knowledge, however, did not deter them from making spontaneous, ad-lib

judgments regarding the purpose of the custom, often drawing upon more

widespread and familiar traditions as analogies.

Occasionally, older traditions were drawn upon. Three people at Portmeirion and one

at Fairy Glen associated the custom with paganism, asking if it is ‘some pagan

thing?’ One man believed the custom to be some form of ‘folklore throwback’ to the

Roman practice of ‘giving value back to the earth’. One woman connected the

custom to the tradition of touching wood, which she described as the pagan custom

of acquiring ‘good luck from the tree spirits’; another woman opined that the custom

was about ‘leaving an offering. Like when we used to throw coins into springs’. The

tradition of blowing out candles on a birthday cake was also drawn upon; one person

at Portmeirion and another at Tarr Steps compared the custom to ‘blowing out

candles – it’s for good luck or making wishes’.

Humour was also widely employed in people’s interpretations of the coin-trees. Six

different people, on their first encounter with a coin-tree, exclaimed ‘so money does

grow on trees’, with one woman saying ‘I want one of them in my garden but I bet it

wouldn’t grow’. A man at Corfe Castle, upon hearing that the older coin-trees were

probably employed for healing, remarked, ‘it’d heal piles if you sat on it’ – and then

hastily apologised for his ‘crude sense of humour’. The ranger at Marbury Park made

the pun that a coin-tree is a ‘branch of the TSB’, and another pun was made on

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Snowdon when a coin fell from a coin-tree and a witness noted wryly, ‘the penny’s

dropped’.

Other humour-related interpretations of the coin-trees involve their economic worth.

A local business owner in Malham claimed that he considers the Malham coin-trees

to be his ‘retirement fund’. Other people jested that they should take the coins for

themselves; a man at Malham told me, ‘we’re waiting for you to clear off so we can

take [the coins]; we’ve got bills to pay’. Another man at Portmeirion opined that if

he was researching a coin-tree, he would be tempted to ‘take a chainsaw to it and get

the coins’, whilst a teenage boy at Lydford Gorge joked that he and his family should

carry the coin-tree home, burn the wood, and use the coins to pay for their next

holiday.

3 – THE WISHING-TREE

Although interpretations of the coin-trees varied widely, there were some analogies

which were drawn upon more frequently, the most notable tradition being that of the

wishing-well/fountain. 35 different groups made this comparison, claiming that the

custom of inserting a coin into a tree is similar to that of depositing it in a wishing-

well/fountain: ‘it’s like throwing coins into a wishing-well’; ‘I’m guessing people do

it to make wishes, like in a wishing-well’; ‘I always thought it was like wishing-

wells or fountains, which I guess go back to sacred springs and paganism’, and so

on. Indeed, this does appear to be the prevailing analogy utilised.

When asked why they had inserted coins into the coin-trees, wishing was a

particularly popular answer; in addition to the 35 references to wells/fountains, a

further 32 people opined that coins are inserted into a coin-tree ‘for making wishes’,

and 18 groups termed the coin-tree a ‘wish/wishing-tree’ (Appendix 4.7). At

Ardmaddy, where the primary coin-tree is pinpointed on maps and labelled on

signposts as the ‘Wishing Tree’ (explored below), there is overt evidence that the

tree is appealed to as a granter of wishes. The note written on the reverse of a receipt,

described in Chapter 5, addresses the coin-tree, ‘Dear Wishing-Tree’, and expresses

the desire for a romantic partner. Also evident was the notion that the coins were

physical manifestations of wishes; at Ingleton, a mother told her children that ‘each

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coin is a wish’ and that the purpose of the coin-tree is ‘for putting wishes in’. Also at

Ingleton, when a young boy removed a coin, his mother scolded him: ‘you can’t take

other people’s wishes’, while at Tarr Steps, as mentioned above, a father discouraged

his son from pulling out coins by claiming that he was ‘stealing people’s wishes’.

The coin-tree custom was also widely associated with luck, with 52 participants

making this connection: ‘it’s for luck’; ‘I assume it’s for luck’; ‘maybe it’s a good

luck thing’. Five people termed the coin-tree a ‘luck/lucky/good-luck-tree’

(Appendix 4.7) and five more associated the custom with ‘good fortune’. Generally,

this association is made because of the connection between coins and luck: one

person noted that ‘pennies are meant to be lucky’; two others opined that ‘finding a

penny is lucky’; and three people recited the jingle, ‘find a penny, pick it up, and all

day long you’ll have good luck’. Two separate groups recalled the belief that a coin

minted in your year of birth is particularly lucky.

Theories of exchange were drawn on by some participants. At Snowdon, one person

suggested that ‘you give something up and you get something in return’; a notion

shared by others at Dovedale, Ingleton, and Hardcastle Crags: ‘if you give [the coin-

tree] a coin, you’ll get a wish’. At Malham, one young girl asserted that the higher

the denomination of coin you insert, the more wishes you can make, whilst also at

Malham, when one man asked his companion if he could borrow a coin, he was

drolly told that ‘if it isn’t your coin, you don’t get the luck’.

It is interesting to note that these people who, by their own admission, do not know

the purpose of the coin-tree, were still able to offer illuminating answers, and they

did this by creating impromptu connections between the coin-tree and customs

which they are more familiar with, such as the wishing-well and the concept of lucky

pennies. However, this strategy of improvising an explanation for the custom by

drawing on analogies with other traditions is most evident when children engage

with coin-trees.

4 – ‘A CHILD’S KIND OF FAIRY-TALE’

As explored in Chapter 4, children are the primary participatory group of the coin-

tree custom. They are also, in many cases, central to interpretations of it. Many

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adults described the purposes of these trees by drawing on child-friendly concepts

and inventing improvised traditions on the spot, often for the benefit of their

children. Indeed, an adult’s interpretation of the coin-tree is often dependent upon

whether or not a child is present (Houlbrook 2014: 52-53).

One couple at Dovedale believed that participation in the custom was motivated

entirely by imitation, but they admitted that, if questioned by their children, they

would probably claim that the coin-trees are ‘for good luck’. Also at Dovedale, a

couple from Birmingham had visited the previous year without their young son and

had apparently inserted a coin only because ‘everyone else was doing it’. On this

trip, however, in the presence of their son they claimed that the custom was ‘lucky’.

Other ideas and imaginative theories concerning the coin-trees appear to have been

hastily concocted by parents. One man told his son that ‘the tradition is, if you can

carry the whole log home, you can keep the coins’, while another man at Portmeirion

pointed a coin-tree out to his young son and informed him that ‘this is where pennies

come from; they grow on penny trees’. A father at Ingleton told his daughter not to

touch the tree because ‘it’s not ready yet. When it’s ready, it’ll fall down and all the

money will come out – we’ll have to come back for that’.

Fairies played a prominent role in child-focused interpretations of the coin-trees. One

pair of grandparents at Aira Force told their granddaughter that the coin-tree was a

‘fairy-tree’; people leave their coins in the tree for the fairies in exchange for wishes.

This notion was repeated by families with young children at Fairy Glen, Malham,

and Hardcastle Crags, while at Becky Falls, three families claimed that the coins are

left for pixies. At Stock Ghyll, one grandmother made an impromptu connection

between coin-trees and the tooth-fairy for the benefit of her grandchildren, playfully

querying if the tooth-fairy sources her coins from the tree. She divulged to me that

this was ‘more of a child’s kind of fairy-tale’, which is why she had chosen it.

It is hardly surprising that fairy-centred traditions are employed in interpretations of

the coin-tree custom. The amorphous, mutable nature of the term ‘fairy’ itself

(Williams 1991) makes it easily adoptable and adaptable for a range of customs,

while – in modern times – a ‘fairy’ is a child-friendly concept (Wells 1991), which

makes it particularly appropriate for a practice primarily observed by, or for the

benefit of, children. Fairies, however, are not the only supernatural creatures

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associated with coin-trees. At Ingleton, one family described the coin-tree as a

‘magic money-tree’ created by a wizard, while in other cases it was the children

themselves who fostered connections between coin-trees and supernatural beings.

The pair of sisters at Becky Falls, for example (described above), invented the

‘tradition’ whereby the participant attempts to throw their coin onto the coin-tree and

if it lands successfully, the pixies will grant their wish.

Likewise, a young girl at Dovedale improvised an explanation for the coin-trees,

drawing on the fairy-tale (indeed, mythological) tradition of securing safe-passage

across dangerous terrain by paying a fee – embedding a coin into the coin-tree – to

some overseeing supernatural power. It was her mother, however, who suggested

that it was ‘trolls’ who were guarding this point along the path, no doubt drawing on

the well-known tale of the Three Billy Goats Gruff. Another young girl, on

Snowdon, told her parents that participation in the custom is ‘for luck so we don’t

fall off the mountain.’

It is unsurprising that such fairy-tale motifs are employed in explanations of the

coin-tree custom. In their studies on folklore, Opie and Opie demonstrate children’s

innate ability to quickly invent, re-invent, and disperse folktales and customs (Opie

and Opie 1959; Opie 1994); through their vast exposure to fairy-tales, they become

adept at applying a fairy-tale-like structure to objects and events in the real world

(Bettelheim 1976: 45; Zipes 1997: 10). And it is this ease with which children relate

to fairy-tales that motivates adults to draw upon them in their own explanations.

However, the coin-tree is not simply ‘children’s folklore’. As Bauman writes:

There is a large corpus of folklore which is often classified as children’s lore,

though its performance almost inevitably involves people who are beyond

the age of childhood, suggesting that this lore might be more productively

considered as structuring the interaction between members of different age

categories…The lore is shared in the sense that it constitutes a

communicative bond between participants, but the participants themselves

are different, the forms they employ are different, and their view of the

folklore passing between them is different. (1971: 37)

The example Bauman gives of this shared lore is the nursery rhyme, which is

typically taught by adults to children for the purposes of entertainment or instruction.

It is neither wholly ‘children’s lore’ nor ‘adult’s lore’ because it is taught by adults to

children; instead, it is both. However, the children and adults engaged in this sharing

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of lore do not necessarily perceive it similarly; the grandmother who tells her

granddaughter that a coin-tree is a ‘fairy-tree’ probably does not believe this to be

the case. Her granddaughter, on the other hand – if young enough – will quite readily

believe.

Children and adults, therefore, will not interpret the ‘traditions’ of the coin-tree with

equal earnestness, just as they do not play identical roles in the transmission of coin-

tree lore, although they each contribute symbiotically to the sharing. The role of an

adult guardian is to fabricate a ‘tradition’ that will interest or entertain a child, and

the role of a child is to provide an excuse for their guardians to suspend their

disbelief, if only for a moment, and permit themselves to indulge in some whimsical

ritual-participation. It is unsurprising, therefore, that adults who have inserted a coin

for the benefit of children exhibited little embarrassment when I approached them,

while adults without children appeared awkward and slightly defensive when asked

why they had participated. Without the child-half of the symbiotic equation, there is

no earnest ear to benefit from the adult’s imaginative interpretation, and therefore

there is no need for it – and subsequently, as some seemed to believe, no excuse for

participation.

5 – THE MUTABILITY OF MEANING

Evidently there is not one single interpretation of the coin-tree custom, but a myriad.

This is due in part to a lack of official written doctrine. Oral traditions, or customs

which are passed on through simple observational imitation (as the coin-tree largely

appears to be), can easily be tailored to any given audience simply because they are

not written down (Vansina 1985: 147). Granted, there are numerous articles,

discussion forums, and personal blogs on the Internet which explore the custom of

the coin-tree, but there is no official piece of writing which states definitively the

purpose of all coin-trees. Hence the ‘meaning’ of the coin-tree custom is subject to

personal interpretation.

If the man at Portmeirion believes that the coin-tree is a ‘folklore throwback’ to the

Roman practice of giving value back to the land, then it is. If the girls at Becky Falls

believe that if your coin lands on the coin-tree the pixies will grant your wish, then

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this has become the tradition. And if the grandmother at Stock Ghyll tells her

grandchildren that the coin-tree is where the tooth-fairy sources her coins, then this,

too, becomes the tradition. With the coin-trees, the consumers are the producers; the

custom therefore ‘means’ whatever they want it to ‘mean’ in that particular moment.

This evident multiplicity is compatible with Honko’s theories on ‘meaning’ (1985).

Honko maintains that the ‘meaning’ of a folkloric text or custom is not ‘clear-cut,

and stable’ but is ‘amorphous, changing…and of relatively short duration’ (1985:

38). ‘Meaning’ is situational, and I cannot (or, at least, should not) make any

definitive assertions about the ‘meaning’ of the coin-tree custom. Additionally, a

clear distinction must be made between collective belief and individual belief

(Honko 1964: 10); it cannot be stated that ‘the inhabitants of the British Isles believe

that inserting a coin into a coin-tree will result in the fulfilment of their wishes’. It

can only be stated that certain individuals claim to believe this.

The evident ambiguity and mutability of ritual is demonstrated in numerous

anthropological studies. Fernandez’s (1965) work on the cult Bwiti of northern

Gabon, for example, evinces that multiple participants can observe a custom in

identical homogeneity, and yet their interpretations of this custom can vary greatly.

Interviewing members of the cult, Fernandez found that identical ritual actions do

not necessarily indicate identical ritual interpretations. Despite the fact that the ritual

studied by Fernandez was intended to promote the unity – nlem-mvore, ‘one-

heartedness’ – of the cult, there were vast discrepancies within the personal

interpretations of the ritual’s key actions and symbols.

This ‘variation in the individual interpretation of commonly experienced

phenomena’, as Fernandez terms it (1965: 906), is evident in many other

anthropological studies. Jordan’s work on the Taiwanese Jiaw, a ceremonial

supplication to the deities, for example, revealed there to be ‘not a single theological

justification given for the event by all informants’ (1976: 104), and Leach’s work on

the rituals of the Shans, the Burmese, and the Kachins of the Hukawng Valley

illustrates a similarly superficial facade of unity of intent and interpretation (1964:

281).

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Orthodox religion is equally subject to divergent interpretations. Bowman’s study of

pilgrimage to Jerusalem (1991), for example, clearly highlights the extent to which

individual characteristics and personal backgrounds can influence a participant’s

interpretation of pilgrimage and ritual, as does Stromberg’s (1981) analysis of the

perceptions of religious symbolism among Swedish Protestants. This divergence of

perspectives is also evinced in Reader’s study of pilgrimage to the Buddhist temples

on the Japanese island of Shikoku (1993) and in Sallnow’s work on pilgrimages in

the South American Andes (1991).

Evidently, factors such as personality, age, gender, and levels of knowledge result in

individuals maintaining different beliefs. Equally, what the coin-tree ‘means’ is

dependent upon who the participant is, their social role, and who they are with

(Honko 1964: 14; see also Brück 2001). It is also influenced by such unpredictable

determinants as emotional moods. For example, there have been two examples of

families ignoring coin-trees because a child is immersed in a tantrum, and if a

teenager is despondent, or a parent impatient or flustered, then this has also

influenced how a group has engaged with coin-trees.

There are also external factors such as the weather. In poor weather, fewer people are

likely to engage with coin-trees, and those who do probably spend less time

participating in the custom (as discussed in Chapter 3). The families at Becky Falls

(described above), for instance, only briefly engaged with both the coin-trees and

myself because of the low temperature and snowfall. Had it been a warm day,

perhaps the parents of the two young girls would have lingered long enough to watch

their participation in the custom, which may have influenced how the girls

interpreted it. Similarly, the grandparents of the other girl may have agreed to

hammer the coin into the coin-tree, thus affecting the method of participation.

6 – MODERNISING MEANING

The coin-tree custom proves to be entirely situational, inclusive, ambiguous, and

mutable – essentially so, for as Dundes stresses, ‘folktales…must appeal to the

psyches of many, many individuals if they are to survive’ (1980: 34). However,

despite this vast variety of interpretations and analogies, some were far more popular

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than others, while some were absent entirely. Considering, for example, how widely

employed coins and trees were in folk-remedies in the British Isles (explored in

Chapter 4), I had assumed that the contemporary practitioners would draw on

connections between the coin-tree and healing. However, of the 219 participants

interviewed, only two made any reference to healing or folk-medicine in their

interpretations of the coin-trees (in connection with clootie wells, discussed below).

Initially this surprised me, especially considering that the Isle Maree coin-tree, the

earliest known surviving manifestation of this custom, was originally concerned

specifically with healing. However, on further consideration it became clear that the

participants’ disinclination to associate the custom with folk-remedies is not

anomalous, but is in fact entirely consistent with the processes involved in the

continuation, diffusion, and adaptation of folkloric customs.

Folkloric customs and structures are not static. The fact that the Isle Maree coin-tree

was at some point employed for its supposed curative properties does not necessitate

all other coin-trees to be connected with healing. Bradley (1990), advocating the

importance of contextual archaeology in his consideration of Bronze Age and

Roman votive deposits, asserts that the interpretations of a ritual artefact can change

over time. Indeed, this change is central to a custom’s continuity; a continuity which,

according to Hallam and Ingold, ‘is due not to its passive inertia but in its active

regeneration’ (2007: 6). The same is true of the coin-tree.

However, it is not the coin-trees themselves which have changed. Generally, all

coin-trees share the same physical properties – trees embedded with coins –

regardless of when and where they were produced. It is the producers themselves

who have changed. As Shills remarks, ‘[t]raditions are not independently self-

reproductive or self-elaborating. Only living, knowing, desiring human beings can

enact them and re-enact them and modify them’ (1981: 14-15). It is the human actors

who continue a tradition, who adapt and modify it to make it both more convenient

and more relevant.

Rogers, examining the diffusion of innovations, asserts that in order for an

innovation to be successfully adopted, there must be some capacity for adaptation

(1995: 330). A person can mimic the essential elements of a custom – the actual

insertion of a coin into a coin-tree – but for the custom to be relevant to them, it must

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be malleable enough for the participants to shape and colour it to their liking. Indeed,

malleability is imperative if a custom, old or new, is to survive. Ideas which are

compatible with contemporary society are successfully disseminated; ideas which

are not, fail (Bascom 1965: 29).

In order for a custom to retain its appeal over time, it must therefore be receptive to

numerous recreations and the addition of what Brunvand terms ‘editorial matter’

(1983: 23-24). In other words, a custom survives if it can be made relevant to

modern participants. The folkloric associations of coins and trees with healing, for

example, are no longer relevant to contemporary British society. This is

unsurprising; illness and premature death were a much greater concern in the past

than they are today (Vyse 1997: 12ff), and scientific and technological developments

have meant that, in most cases, those concerned for their health are more likely to

visit a medical centre than participate in a folkloric custom (Hamilton 1981: 102).

And when a custom is no longer relevant to contemporary society, this usually

results in its attenuation (Shils 1981: 283-285) – unless it is suitably adapted.

If folk-medicine is no longer widely relevant to contemporary British participants,

therefore, then what has risen to replace it? As explored above, the coin-tree is

particularly relevant to modern-day society because it caters to children, providing

them with the opportunity for ritual play. However, it is not only children who

participate in this custom. Also, while the continuation of a custom necessitates a

propensity for adaptation, there must also be a degree of retention and familiarity. A

custom must adapt if it is to survive, but while participants require it to be relevant to

contemporary society, they also desire some sense of antiquity (a notion explored in

greater detail below). They therefore, either consciously or subconsciously, seek out

interpretations of the coin-tree which address both of these needs.

In order to do this, the coin-tree custom is recreated by drawing analogies with other

traditions. As Cushing writes, the successful introduction of a new custom can

depend on ‘the similarity of the material to the already existing traditions’ (1965:

269). Folklore, as asserted by Opie and Opie, ‘feeds on other matter’ (1978: 68); a

more dominant or familiar tradition is imprinted onto the new (or recreated) custom.

It is unsurprising, therefore, that such a high number of participants drew on

analogies with wishing-wells/fountains, with wish-fulfilment and notions of luck

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central to their interpretations of the coin-tree custom. These notions are ideally

suited to the task of acclimatising the coin-tree, because they are compatible with

contemporary ideas and customs – wishing-wells and lucky pennies – whilst

simultaneously being deeply enough rooted in the past to boast a certain sense of

antiquity.

This modernisation of the ‘meaning’ of the coin-tree is clearly traceable in

interpretations of the Isle Maree coin-tree. As outlined in Chapter 4, in the 18th

and

early 19th

centuries the tree was employed in healing rituals, and closely associated

with the holy well of St. Maelrubha. However, with the loosening grip of the Church

and the declining faith in the power of saints and holy wells the traditions needed to

adapt in order to retain their popularity. By the late 19th

century, the tree had become

a ‘wishing-tree’, a term employed by Dixon (1886: 150), Godden (1893: 499),

McPherson (1929: 76), Barnett (1930: 114), and Macrow (1953: 88-89). It was now

believed that, as described by McPherson, a ‘wish silently formed when any metal

article was attached to the tree, or coin driven in, would certainly be realised’ (1929:

76). No longer associated with healing, the tree became imbued with the power to

grant wishes or to ensure good luck (MacLeish 1968: 420), the only traditions which

participants seem to observe today. Local residents in Gairloch, for example,

associate the tree with only two things: wish-making and luck. The tree has therefore

shed its curative properties and became a wishing-tree instead, a custom much more

inclusive.

7 – COINING THE COIN-TREE: WHAT’S IN A NAME?

As demonstrated above, there is a lack of official doctrine concerning the coin-tree,

which has resulted in a lack of uniform ‘meaning’. It has also resulted in a lack of

official title, and subsequently the name of these structures can be changed at will. In

this thesis they have been dubbed ‘coin-trees’ because this is the most basic, neutral

description of them. Others, however, use different terms for these structures (see

Appendix 4.7), which invariably indicates how they are perceived. As Derrida

observes, ‘when a name comes, it immediately says more than the name’ (1995: 89);

it is, according to Pearce, a ‘medium for the communication of information’ (1992:

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123). And not only does a name reveal how we perceive an object, it also influences

it (Lindsay and Norman 1972: 438).

Some names for these structures refer simply to their physical components; 74

people described them as ‘money-trees’; 32 as ‘coin-trees’; and 22 as ‘penny-trees’.

Names often draw upon description, especially when the namer is otherwise

unfamiliar with an object. As Soames writes, words ‘stand for objects and the

properties we take them to have…What it is for language to be meaningful is for it to

have this representational capacity’ (2005: 7). Subsequently, when asked to name

these structures, some people have taken a very literal approach: ‘coined tree’; ‘a tree

with coins in’; ‘a trunk with coins in’.

However, other popular names for the coin-tree also indicate a perceived purpose,

such as ‘wishing-tree’ and ‘good-luck-tree’ – which also aid in making the custom

more compatible with other traditions. For example, when Dixon described the coin-

tree on Isle Maree as ‘the wishing-tree’ (1886: 150), he was doing more than simply

naming the structure; he was establishing a ‘meaning’ for it. Rogers considers the

importance of titles in his examination of the diffusion of innovations; with words

being the ‘thought-units that structure perceptions’, the name given to an innovation

invariably ‘affects its perceived compatibility, and therefore its rate of adoption’

(1995: 236). I will consider this notion with a brief anecdote.

In early 2012, I met with a curator from a museum who was considering organising a

family-based event about coin-trees. However, she did not wish to use the term

‘coin-tree’, preferring ‘wishing-tree’ instead, claiming that the link it evokes with

wishing-wells and -fountains makes the custom more identifiable for her target

audience: families. She believed, not incorrectly, that people are generally more

likely to show an interest in an idea or commodity with which they are at least

vaguely familiar, and that the name of such an idea or commodity plays a central role

in people’s perceptions of it.

Evidently, names are flexible and arbitrary (Lindsay and Norman 1972: 438), and

they can be changed depending upon who, and to whom one, is speaking. For

example, as Brown notes, ‘each thing has many equally correct names’ (1958: 20),

and these different terms are employed depending upon the situation; for example,

when speaking to a child, simpler and shorter names may be used, reserving the

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longer or more specific titles for adult conversation: a ‘tree’ to a child may become a

‘sycamore’ to an adult, which may in turn become an ‘Acer pseudoplatanus’ to a

botanist. Likewise, an adult may refer to a coin-tree as a ‘wishing-tree’ when

speaking to a child, but as a ‘money-tree’ when conversing with a peer.

Names may be fluid; conversely, they also have the capacity to become fixed. To

refer to a coin-tree as ‘a coin-tree’ is to employ an adjective for reference, using a

term at first designed to describe an object’s empirical content; it is ‘a coin-tree’

because it is a tree with coins embedded in its bark. However, to refer to a coin-tree

as ‘the coin-tree’ indicates a change in context. The use of the word ‘the’ suggests a

certain level of establishment. As Macnamara notes, as ‘a first approximation, the

has the force of suggesting that everyone in the conversation knows precisely what is

being referred to’ (1982: 145, emphasis in original). ‘The coin-tree’ refers to a

specific coin-tree, one which the speaker is familiar with – and subsequently ‘coin-

tree’ is no longer an adjective but a noun.

Again, when Dixon referred to Isle Maree’s coin-tree as ‘the wishing-tree’ (1886:

150, emphasis added), he was not only naming the structure and ascribing a purpose

to it; he was also imbuing it with a certain level of establishment. Some

contemporary participants have done the same: nine people described a coin-tree as

‘the money-tree’; two as ‘the pixie-tree’; one as ‘the wishing-tree’; and another as

‘the fairy-tree’. Not only does the use of ‘the’ in these contexts indicate a sense of

familiarity with the structures, it also implies that the namers perceive them as

individual, unique, and enduring (Nelson 1977: 122).

The use of capital initials further establishes the term ‘Coin-Tree’ as a proper noun,

which designates something as particular and unique (Valentine et al. 1996: 2).

When ‘a coin-tree’ becomes ‘The Coin-Tree’ it has undergone a further level of

establishment. At Ingleton, Becky Falls, and Bolton Abbey, for example, the primary

coin-trees are labelled ‘The Money Tree’ (see below). Likewise, Meurig Jones,

Estates Manager of Portmeirion Village, referred to the Portmeirion coin-trees in

email correspondences with me as ‘The “Wishing Trees”’ (pers. comm. 21/12/2011),

a name shared by the primary Ardmaddy coin-tree, which is labelled ‘Wishing Tree’

on Ordnance Survey maps (Fig. 93), as well as in a tourist pamphlet and walker’s

signpost (Fig. 94) (see below).

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Such examples suggest that these particular trees have come to be perceived as

established, familiar, important, and unique as individual structures. Kripke

distinguishes between using a description to denote a meaning and using it ‘to fix a

reference’ (1980: 5); in these examples, the latter has been achieved.

8 – FIXING MEANING

When a participant is offered no authoritative explanation for why a custom exists,

they are free to name and interpret it as they choose. However, what if there was a

voice of authority stating that a coin-tree is a ‘coin-tree’, and that it means x, y, or z?

The introduction of official names and explanations would, in a sense, canonise the

coin-tree, subsequently influencing how people perceive the custom. Personal

interpretation would be replaced by subscription and adherence.

The presence of coin-tree labelling on maps and interpretation panels offer such

‘official names and explanations’. This process is clearly evident at Clonenagh, Co.

Laois (Appendix 2.15), where the coin-tree is accompanied by an information panel

erected by Laois County Council (Fig. 95) (see page 82). This interpretation panel

clearly places the coin-tree in a Christian context, matter-of-factly linking it with St.

Fintan and the holy well which once stood nearby. The Ireland Lonely Planet guide

repeats this information in its entry on Clonenagh: ‘Its claim to fame is St Fintan’s

Tree, a large sycamore; the water that collects in the groove in one of its lower

branches is said to have healing properties’ (Davenport 2009: 504).

Another example of this fixing of ‘meaning’ is evident at Ingleton, Yorkshire

(Appendix 2.25), where an interpretation panel – supported on a wooden post also

embedded with coins – accompanies the primary coin-tree (Fig. 96), which it has

dubbed ‘The Money Tree’. It offers the following information:

Does money really grow on trees? Most of the coins in this tree are 2p

pieces. Can you find any very old coins in the tree? Some people say pushing

a coin into the tree trunk will bring you good luck.

This does not necessarily tell the reader anything they could not have decided for

themselves, and yet these four short sentences have a striking effect on how

participants at Ingleton perceive and engage with the coin-tree. They are told that

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this structure is called ‘The Money Tree’. Therefore, when I asked my interview

participants – 22 groups – what they would dub the structure, 100% of them replied

a ‘money-tree’, with only one group embellishing it a little by naming it the ‘magic

money-tree’. At every other coin-tree, I have received an assortment of names; at

Ingleton, however, no such equivocation was evident. Indeed, when one man

asserted that it is a ‘money-tree’ and his companion asked him how he knew, he

responded by pointing to the interpretation panel and answering, quite simply,

‘because it says it is.’

The sentence, ‘[m]ost of the coins in this tree are 2p pieces’, also greatly influences

the way people participate in this custom, with several participants expressing the

opinion that their coins needed to be two pence pieces. One woman, having read the

panel, requested a two pence piece from her companion; when asked if it had to be

that specific denomination, she replied firmly, ‘yes, it says so’.

The meaning of the custom has also lost some of its malleability through the printing

of these 15 simple words: ‘Some people say pushing a coin into the tree trunk will

bring you good luck’. What is a rather diffident comment often appears to be

interpreted as unequivocal fact, with participants reading the interpretation panel and

then stating matter-of-factly that the custom is intended to ensure good luck.

Granted, other explanations were drawn upon, such as the coin-tree having been

created by a wizard. However, every participant who read the panel repeated the

information written there, as if the printing of words has the power and authority to

fix ‘meaning’.

This process of fixing ‘meaning’ was also evident at Becky Falls (Appendix 2.11),

where the primary coin-tree was similarly accompanied by an interpretation panel

(described at the beginning of this chapter) (Fig. 97). According to this panel, ‘local

legend’ avers that, in order to avoid being eaten by a serpent, people would place a

coin on the tree as a ‘small toll’ to the pixies, who would subsequently ensure the

depositor’s safe passage. This ‘local legend’ clearly influences people’s

interpretations of this coin-tree, with two groups calling it ‘the pixie-tree’, three

groups claiming that they were depositing their coins ‘for the pixies’, and one young

girl (described above) claiming that if she and her sister successfully threw their

coins onto the tree, the pixies would grant their wishes.

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This thesis itself is equally responsible for the ‘fixing of meaning’. By simply

researching and writing about coin-trees, I am constructing meaning. Firstly, I have

chosen to label them ‘coin-trees’, which has influenced what others name them; for

example, when discussing coin-trees with a friend who had previously been aware of

the custom, I asked her what she called them; she replied, ‘I didn’t have a name for

them until I talked to you, but now I’d call them ‘coin-trees’.’

Secondly, by choosing to research them I am declaring them a subject ‘worthy’ of

research. This clearly has an impact on how this custom is perceived by both

custodians and members of the public, who are often initially surprised by the

academic attention these structures are receiving and then, as if inspired by this

attention, begin to consider the custom in a different light. As already observed

above, people often do not consider the custom’s ‘meaning’ until I question them

about it; the fact that there is an academic researcher asking them about ‘meaning’

may lead most people to believe that there must necessarily be a meaning.

Thirdly, by presenting my research at conferences, delivering public lectures,

publishing papers in journals, being interviewed by local newspapers, writing an

online blog about the Ardmaddy excavation, and producing an interpretive leaflet on

the Ardmaddy coin-tree, I am also contributing to the dissemination of this custom

and the construction of meaning. However, I am always cautious about publically

voicing my interpretations of the custom. For example, in my interview for The

Oban Times (Patterson 2013: 2) concerning the Ardmaddy excavation, I refrained

from even suggesting why people insert coins into coin-trees, aware that my opinion

may be perceived as fact. However in this case, simply my adoption of the local

name for this tree – the ‘Ardmaddy wishing-tree’ – implies a purpose (i.e. wish-

fulfilment), demonstrating that no matter how distant or careful a researcher attempts

to be, they cannot help but contribute to the construction or fixing of meaning.

9 – CASE-STUDY: ST. NECTAN’S GLEN, ENGLAND

St. Nectan’s Glen, Cornwall (Appendix 2.36), is one coin-tree site which clearly

illustrates how ‘meaning’ can be manipulated and become fixed over time. It is a

privately owned glen, following the River Trevillet to a 60ft waterfall (Fig. 98),

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which descends into a granite basin known as St. Nectan’s Kieve, ‘kieve’ being the

Cornish word for bowl/basin/cauldron (Madge 1950: 29). It is named after the 5th

-

century saint whose hermitage was allegedly built above the waterfall. There are five

coin-trees at this site; the primary coin-tree (Fig. 99) and one other are located by the

waterfall, in the commercially-owned section of the glen, while three are situated

further west along the glen.

As well as over 4000 coins inserted into the coin-trees, a vast variety of objects have

also been deposited in the kieve. The branches of nearby trees are adorned with rags,

ribbons (Fig. 100), shoelaces, key-rings, pendants, prisms, and hair bobbles. In some

cases, very personal items have been deposited: one branch has been adorned with a

lock of somebody’s hair (Fig. 101), while another is affixed with a plastic wallet

containing the photograph of a dog, ‘Ollie’, accompanied by the words ‘I miss u

sooo much…’ (Fig. 54). Other items appear to have been ad-lib deposits, such as a

Polo mint slipped onto a twig.

The cliff faces on either side of the waterfall have been equally bedecked with

visitors’ deposits, some more personal than others: candles (some bearing religious

images), a rubber duck, jewellery, hair clips and bobbles, a water flask, etc. (Fig. 54).

Scratching messages onto pieces of slate and displaying them against the cliff faces

also appears to be particularly popular. Some pieces contain names or initials, whilst

others bear personal memorial messages (Figs. 82-83). Other pieces of slate have

been piled on top of each other, in or beside the water throughout the glen, forming

what are known as ‘fairy stacks’ (Fig. 102).

Although it is unclear when the practice of deposition first began at this site, it was

probably no earlier than the 1970s. A scene in Redgrove’s novel The Glass Cottage

(1975) takes place in St. Nectan’s Glen, which the author devotes four pages to

describing the aesthetic and geological properties of in great detail. He does not,

however, mention any evidence of deposition at the site – and neither do any earlier

sources which describe the glen (Gilbert 1820: 586-587; Hawker 1832: 28-31;

Redding 1842: 35-36; Hawker 1846: 72-73; Hawker 1864: 27-29; Madge 1950). The

earliest known reference to the practice of deposition at St. Nectan’s Glen is

Varner’s 2002 online article ‘Sacred Sites – St. Nectan’s Glen’, and even this does

not refer to coin-trees, but to deposits of rags and ribbons.

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Indeed, judging by a photograph of the primary coin-tree taken by Sally Daffarn in

2006 (Fig. 103), the custom of coin insertion does not appear to have been prolific in

the mid-2000s, suggesting that this coin-tree does not far pre-date the 2000s.

Contrasting Sally’s photograph with one taken in 2013 (Fig. 104), it is clear that coin

density has increased greatly within the last 6/7 years, quantities having at least

quadrupled. Within this short time-frame, however, various forms of ‘leaving your

mark’ have manifested themselves prolifically at this site.

This theme of ‘leaving your mark’ featured heavily in participant interviews; one

woman asserted that ‘you can’t come to a place like this and not leave your mark’,

whilst Sally Daffarn, who had inserted a coin into the primary coin-tree in 2006,

claimed to have done so because she ‘wanted to feel part of the wonderful aura at the

site’ (pers. comm. 15/05/2012). Another woman compared the insertion of a coin to

‘leaving a part of yourself in a sacred place, like lighting a candle in a church’. The

words ‘sacred’ and ‘spiritual’ also featured heavily; one woman from Spain

described the glen as a ‘sacred place’; another woman, a ‘beautiful, spiritual place’;

whilst a third described it as ‘really special’, explaining that she is not ordinarily

‘spiritual’, but ‘it’s easy to get carried away in a place like this’.

Although only two interview participants referred explicitly to St. Nectan and his

‘medieval chapel’, this figure is central to historical representations of the site. As

the St. Nectan’s Glen visitor website claims: ‘Saint Nectan is believed to have sited

his hermitage above the waterfall’ (St Nectans Waterfall nd.). Similarly, in

Redgrove’s The Glass Cottage (1975), the author describes how ‘St. Nectan’s

Hermitage’ was located in the glen, and this was ‘where the Cornish Saint had lived

and prayed and healed’ (1975: 216). Whilst in 2008, Melton simply recounts the life

of St. Nectan in his encyclopedic entry on St. Nectan’s Glen (2008: 287). Clearly St.

Nectan, and the belief that his hermitage was situated above the glen’s waterfall, is a

primary contributing factor to the ‘sacred’ atmosphere of the site.

However, it is unlikely that St. Nectan had any connection at all with the glen which

bears his name, a theory strongly posited by Madge (1950). The first known

reference to this waterfall and glen was made in the 1799 edition of Thomas Gray’s

Traveller’s Companion, in which it was not described as ‘St. Nectan’s Glen’, but as

‘Nathan’s Cave’ (Gray 1799: 15), and Madge believes that the name ‘Nathan’ may

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simply have been connected to two graves in the nearby churchyard of Tintagel:

Nathan Williams, 1712, and Nathan Cock, 1762 (1950: 32). Secular origins of the

glen’s name, however, did not appeal to poet Robert Stephen Hawker, who visited

the glen in 1830. In 1832, he published a poem entitled ‘The Sisters of the Glen’, in

which he recounts the local legend of two ‘ancient’ sisters, who mysteriously

appeared one day in the glen, their origins unknown, and lived in the ‘reliques of a

human cell’ until they died.

In the first edition of this poem, Hawker begins by describing the glen, and his

opening line reads: ‘It is from Nathan’s mossy steep…’ (1832: 28, emphasis added).

14 years later, however, when Hawker republished his poem in Echoes from Old

Cornwall (1846), the title had been altered to ‘The Sisters of Glen-Neot’, referring to

the 9th

-century Cornish monk St. Neot, and the opening line of this slightly altered

poem reads: ‘It is from Neot’s sainted steep…’ (1846: 72, emphasis added). In

Hawker’s 1864 reprint of the poem, it had been changed further still: now entitled

‘Saint Nectan’s Kieve’, it opens with: ‘It is from Nectan’s mossy Steep…’ (1864:

27, emphasis added). Hawker claims, in his accompanying note to the 1864 version

of the poem, that the waterfall ‘has borne for Ten Centuries the Name of St. Nectan’s

Kieve’ (1864: 27), which is ironic considering that a mere 18 years before he had

referred to it as ‘Glen-Neot’ (1846).

Over a period of 32 years, therefore, both the name of the glen and its saintly

associations had changed: from Nathan, to St. Neot, to St. Nectan. Madge believes

that this process of change was almost exclusively the result of Hawker’s poems

(1950: 64), and Hawker himself admitted to some poetic license, claiming in the note

to the latest version of his poem in Cornish Ballads: ‘I invented it myself’ (1869: 9).

As for St. Nectan’s hermitage, widely accredited to have been built above the

waterfall, this structure was equally romanticized over time. Despite Hawker having

described it in 1832 as simply ‘four walls matted with ivy and overgrown with

gorse’ (1832: 31), he ascribes it Christian origins in his 1864 edition: ‘the outline of

an Oratory, or the Reliques of a Hermitage’ (1864: 27). Already in 1842 Redding

had described the structure as ‘four walls covered with vegetation, the roofless

remnant of the abode of some hermit in times gone by, who resided there to pray for

the souls of shipwrecked mariners’ (1842: 35). And while Baring-Gould and Fisher,

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in their work on The Lives of British Saints, are wary of using Hawker as a source in

their entry on St. Nectan – ‘Mr. Hawker was a man of lively imagination, and the

story may be merely ben trovato’ (1913: 1) – they still likewise accept without

question that the structure above the waterfall was connected with St. Nectan: ‘S.

Nighton’s (Nectan’s) Kieve is a waterfall at Trethevy where was his chapel’ (1913:

2).

Madge, however, posits a much more secular purpose for this structure, which he

notes ‘had no ancient and, above all, no ecclesiastical features’ (1950: 59). He claims

instead that the structure was an 18th

-century grotto or pleasure-house built by the

owners of the Trevillet estate (1950: 59). Indeed, the earliest known reference to this

structure, Gilbert’s Historical Survey of the County of Cornwall (1820), describes it

as ‘the remains of a small temple, or summer-house, erected most probably, by the

family of Wood [of Trevillet estate]’ (1820: 586-587).

The probable secular origins of this structure appear to be little known. On their

website, as described above, the owners of St. Nectan’s Glen today recount the belief

that St. Nectan had built his hermitage in the glen, creating (or in this case,

maintaining) a narrative that will appeal to their visitors. Even English Heritage

appears to have accepted this tradition; on their website PastScape, which describes

England’s archaeological and architectural heritage, there is an entry for the site of

this structure, Monument No. (SX 08 NE 20), which it describes as the ‘alleged site

of the Medieval chapel of St Nectan’ (English Heritage 2007).

As Madge asserts, Hawker ‘laid the foundation for all the “legends” that have kept

poets, guides and tourists busy ever since’ (1950: 30), and this is evidently still true

today, with many people harbouring a misconception about this site borne from a

poet’s desire to romanticise his subject: to convert its namesake from an unknown

Nathan to a Christian saint, and its 18th

-century summer-house into a hermit’s cell.

The belief that St. Nectan’s Glen is a ‘sacred’ or ‘magical’ site undoubtedly

motivates participation in the acts of deposition, including the coin-trees, but it also

undoubtedly derives from the belief that the glen was once home to a medieval saint.

But while this belief is drawn upon by the glen’s private owners on their website,

probably hoping to draw more (paying) visitors, it is less likely to be based on

historical fact than on the imagination of a writer exercising his poetic license.

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10 – FOLKLORISMUS: MANIPULATING MEANING

The case-study of St. Nectan’s Glen demonstrates that interpretations of the coin-

trees are not simply dependent upon personal inclination; they can be greatly

influenced by the beliefs and assertions of others – even others such as Hawker, who

visited this site nearly 200 years ago. However, more often it is the beliefs and

assertions of others today which colour participants’ interpretations. In some cases,

for example, the coin-tree custodians publically offer their own interpretations,

sometimes presenting them as fact. These interpretations draw on analogies not only

with ‘already existing traditions’, but with ‘already existing traditions’ specific to

that geographic location, and there is usually one common motivation behind this:

tourism.

As folklorist Newall observes, often what we perceive as a continuation of a tradition

actually proves to be a ‘deliberately inserted renaissance’ (1987: 146); customs

which may appear old are, in many instances, actually the result of recent and

conscious invention. Christmas carols, national anthems, the clan tartans of Scotland

(Trevor-Roper 1983: 19): these are all products of what Hobsbawn has termed

‘inventing traditions’ (1983: 1), and folk customs are subject to a similar ambiguity

of ‘authenticity’. Their malleability, so vital to their survival, consequently makes

them all the more susceptible to appropriation, modification, and recontextualisation,

often for commercial reasons.

‘Tourism’, writes Kneafsey, ‘could be seen as a use of landscape as a resource’

(1995: 136), and with landscapes being intrinsically connected to the identity of a

place, it is unsurprising that they are so often drawn upon in tourism as a resource to

display that identity. However, landscapes are not static. As Muri observes, ‘[s]pace

is newly constituted…to the extent that new meanings are attributed to it and

experience is structured to support tourist activities’ (2001: 61). The folklore of a

landscape – such as the custom of the coin-tree – is suitably pliable for this function,

and can easily be adapted or manipulated for what Muri terms ‘showcase tactics’

(2001: 55).

Numerous scholars have examined how tourism has impacted and modified folk

traditions worldwide. Creighton (1997), for example, considers the impact ‘nostalgia

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tourism’ has on the folk traditions of Japan. Muri (2001), focusing on a tourist

attraction in the Montafon valley, Austria, considers how central tourism is to the

process of imparting and interpreting folk traditions; whilst Silverman (2002) studies

how archaeological tourism has influenced contemporary constructions of history

and traditions in Peru. Newall (1987) offers numerous examples from across Europe

of such ‘showcase tactics’, recounting illustrative anecdotes such as how schoolboys

from Inzell, Germany, were instructed by their headmaster in 1955 to build models

of ‘ghosts’ from their local legends out of moss and branches, and to display them at

the roadside to ‘please summer visitors’ (1987: 136).

Britain likewise draws on local legends for the sake of tourism; for example, in 1975

the British Tourist Authority produced an information sheet listing the haunted

hotels and inns of England and Wales (Newall 1987: 143), whilst the Dungeon tours

of Edinburgh, London, Blackpool, and York recount local horror stories, offering

tourists the ‘ultimate thrill-filled journey through [the city’s] murky past - perfect for

a day out with your mates!’ (Dungeons nd.). These are all examples of the conscious

reutilisation of folklore and the deliberate adaptation of tradition, a phenomenon –

referred to as ‘folklorismus’ by Newall (1987) and as ‘fakelore’ by Dorson (1976) –

which is evidently employed most often for commercial purposes (Zipes 1997: 12).

Coin-trees appear to have been similarly utilised.

In some instances, coin-trees are simply presented as features of interest at tourist

sites. For example, at Aira Force a ‘Money Tree’ is pinpointed on the map displayed

at the start of the route, and included in its key (Fig. 105), just as ‘money trees’ are

labelled on the map given to visitors at Becky Falls (Fig. 106), and a signpost

alongside the track in Ardmaddy Estate declares ‘Wishing Tree 2.2km’ and instructs

walkers to follow the arrows (Fig. 94). Similarly, a photograph of a young girl

studying a coin-tree features in the Bolton Abbey visitors leaflet, accompanied by a

brief entry which reads: ‘Money Tree: Can you begin to guess how many pennies

there are?’ (Fig. 107). And on the Bolton Abbey website, ‘The Money Tree’ is listed

amongst the site’s ‘highlights’:

Follow the path from the stepping stones bridge up stream through the

woodland. Along this path you will pass three fallen trees all laden with

coins. Who pushed the coins in the tree and how did they do it? Can you

pull them out? (Bolton Abbey nd.)

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In the National Trust online magazine, Things to see and do in South Lakes (2011),

there is a brief reference to ‘the “money tree”’ at Tarn Hows in the ‘Look out for…’

section, alongside views of the Coniston Fells and Belted Galloway cattle (2011: 1).

Photographs of coin-trees are displayed on tourist websites for Isle Maree,

Ardmaddy, and St. Nectan’s Glen – indeed, when I visited St. Nectan’s Glen to

conduct fieldwork, I was asked by the manager to upload some of my photographs

onto their website. These are all examples of coin-trees simply being presented as

features of interest or tourist attractions.

However, other examples demonstrate overt contextualisation of the coin-trees, with

site managers and land-owners sharing their own interpretations of the custom. The

Malham tourism website, for example, presents a photograph of a coin-tree alongside

the description: ‘On the footpath to Janet’s Foss a couple of tree stumps have become

home to hundred’s [sic.] of lucky pennies, add a coin and make a wish with Jennet

the queen of the fairies…’ (Malhamdale.com nd.). Similar levels of interpretation are

presented on panels accompanying coin-trees at Ingleton, Becky Falls, and

Clonenagh, information for the latter having been repeated in the Ireland Lonely

Planet guide (2009: 504).

At Ardmaddy, information about the coin-tree is included in a pamphlet available in

the self-catering cottages on Ardmaddy Estate. Alongside a photograph of the coin-

tree, the pamphlet describes the tree (a hawthorn) and offers the following

explanation:

In Celtic culture, the Hawthorn is a sacred tree and you made your wish or

prayer at the tree and then placed a coin in the bark. Another offering is a

ribbon of cloth tied to a branch. These offerings were for the tree spirits and

fairies who would grant your wish if they saw fit.

At Portmeirion, an article from Wales Online, entitled ‘Putting coins in trees rooted

in superstition’ (McCarthy 2011), is displayed in the lodge where visitors pay their

entrance fees. It quotes estate manager Meurig Jones as claiming that ‘an old

tradition…says that any illness you are suffering will leave you when you force

money into wood’. When tourists enquire about the coin-trees, they are shown a

printed copy of the article. While at High Force (Appendix 2.24), information on the

coin-tree is presented on the site’s Facebook page, where a picture of the coin-tree is

accompanied by the words: ‘This is the Money Tree that has been here for many

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years. Visitors push money into the bark of the tree that fell in a storm for good luck.

Apparently it’s an old Yorkshire custom’ (Anonymous 2012) (Fig. 108).

11 – A (FOSTERED) MISCONCEPTION OF AGE

The description of the High Force coin-tree on the site’s Facebook page is

particularly illustrative of a custodian’s desire and ability to harness folk traditions

for commercial purposes. Not only does the online text claim that the custom is

observed ‘for good luck’ and that it is apparently ‘an old Yorkshire custom’ – thus

locating it within other ‘already existing traditions’ – but it also claims that the coin-

tree has ‘been here for many years’. As with the ‘meaning’ of the custom, age can be

subjective. The text does not specify how many years exactly, nor does it give any

relative notion of the word ‘many’, which could refer to decades, centuries,

millennia, but it does imply a certain level of antiquity. However, this implication is

misleading, for Steve Gillard, ranger at High Force, estimates that the primary coin-

tree was originally coined in c.2006 (pers. comm. 09/09/2012), six years before the

text and photograph were added to the Facebook page. The term ‘many years’ may

be subjective, but it surely does not accurately apply to six.

As demonstrated in Chapter 4, the majority of coin-trees do not pre-date the 1990s.

However, as with the High Force example, members of the public have been misled

into believing that the coin-trees are much older than they are, with some custodians

actively – albeit perhaps innocently, unaware themselves of the coin-trees’ real ages

– encouraging this projection of age onto these structures, in a sense ‘staging’

antiquity (Holtorf and Schadla-Hall 1999: 236).

The Yorkshire Dales National Park magazine, The Visitor, ran an article in 2011

entitled ‘Wood yew be-leave it!’, in which it describes the Malham coin-trees

(Appendix 2.30): ‘People have hammered copper coins into this dead tree trunk near

Janet’s Foss waterfall for good luck for many years, and if you look closely you may

find some very old pennies’ (2011: 10). The ambiguous term ‘many years’ is again

utilised; subjective enough to avoid accusations of inaccuracy, but certainly implying

antiquity. However, despite this implication, area ranger Catriona Kilner estimates

that the custom only began in Malham in the late 1990s/early 2000s (pers. comm.

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20/10/2011). The vague but suggestive term ‘many years’ is also used on the

interpretation panel at Becky Falls: ‘local legend has it that many years ago…’ (Fig.

97).

At Ingleton (Appendix 2.25), the interpretation panel (Fig. 96) challenges the reader

to find ‘old coins’ in the tree, which led many people to mistakenly identify modern

coins as pre-decimalisation coins. One man claimed that a worn one penny piece was

a ‘threepence’, whilst many others have claimed that two pence pieces are ‘old

pennies’. Granted, there are two pre-decimalisation pennies inserted into this tree –

the dates are unidentifiable, but the sizes of the coins (31mm in diameter) and the

vague outlines of Britannia indicate that they are, indeed, ‘old pennies’ (Fig. 109).

However, as this coin-tree is probably no older than 20-30 years,3 these coins cannot

have been inserted whilst still in circulation. Perhaps the tree’s custodians – the

Ingleton Scenery Company, who have not responded to my queries – inserted the

coins themselves in order to ‘age’ the tree; applying an artificial patina to strengthen

a sense of authenticity (Kalshoven 2010: 68-69). The same reason may account for

why a 1933 three pence piece was placed on the cliff face behind the primary coin-

tree at St. Nectan’s Glen (Fig. 110).

It is not difficult to understand why these coin-tree custodians may wish to covertly

over-estimate the age of these structures; they probably believe that their visitors

would be more interested in a structure which boasts some antiquity, and that such a

structure may attract other (paying) visitors. Certainly, people appear disappointed to

discover that there are no ‘old pennies’ and that the coin-trees themselves are

relatively recent structures, obviously preferring the illusion of age. This desire is not

uncommon; Gormley notes that the ‘English national psyche has been a victim of the

past, binding us to a reverence for the old things’ (2007: 7), whilst Butler writes of ‘a

nostalgia for authenticity’ (2006: 466) and Lowenthal of ‘nostalgic affliction’ (1985:

10), an affliction characterised by the high demand for antique shops, vintage

clothing, and period dramas.

The coin-tree custom is certainly not the only British ‘tradition’ which appears far

older than it is. Hobsbawm and Ranger note how many ‘traditions’ – from

3 According to the three separate participants I interviewed who had visited the site regularly and

could not remember the tree being there prior to the 1980s.

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ceremonies of the British monarchy to Christmas carols – are just some of the many

customs ‘which appear or claim to be old [but] are often quite recent in origin’

(1983: 1). A custom will feel more firmly established if it is bestowed with a sense

of age; in this way, age authenticates. As Lowenthal asserts, by implying that a

structure boasts some antiquity, the designation ‘lends it status’ (1985: 265).

The authenticating power of age is well-documented. Holtorf and Schadla-Hall,

writing of ‘age-value’, clearly demonstrate a perceived inherent connection between

age and authenticity (1999: 232). Objects wear their patinas as badges of pride

because they are viewed as evidence of antiquity (Goffer 1980: 264), and value is

attributed to age, from collectors’ items (Spooner 1986) to ordinary, everyday

objects which eventually find their way into museum displays simply because of

their antiquity (Macdonald 2002). As Penrose observes, ‘the older something

becomes the more important it tends to be thought’ (2007: 13). The same applies to

customs, which appear to be viewed by many as only interesting insofar as they are

seasoned.

This tactical adaptation of customs and age is not regarded in modern-day

scholarship as a necessarily negative process. Scholars of folklore acknowledge that

folk ‘traditions’ are fluid and malleable, and that the employment and adaptation of

folk customs for commercial reasons can – and often does – have positive effects.

Bendix (1989) asserts that changes are not made to traditions only in order to

encourage tourism, but to maintain the traditions which are at threat because of

tourism (1989: 132). Expressing a similar sentiment, Muri, in her consideration of

tourism’s impact on Austrian folk traditions, advocates that mass media has ‘been

instrumental in preserving traditions’ (2001: 55). While Creighton, in her study of

the marketing of tradition in the Japanese travel industry, asserts that in some cases

tourism has provided Japanese villages with the economic means to remain intact

and retain their traditions. ‘One may bemoan the loss of tradition to

commercialization,’ she writes, ‘…but in some cases these forces have also brought

about the means to keep traditions bemoaned as lost from disappearing altogether’

(1997: 248-249).

The coin-tree custom may similarly benefit from economically-motivated

adaptations. If members of the public are more likely to be interested in a coin-tree if

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they believe it to be associated with local legends and traditions, or to be older than it

is, then these fostered interpretations will probably incite their participation – and

thus contribute to the continuation of the custom.

12 – A (NATURAL) MISCONCEPTION OF AGE

However, not all adaptations of the coin-tree custom are actively fostered by

custodians; most occur organically, perpetuated by the participants themselves. For

example, the misconception of the age of these structures can occur naturally,

without the impetus of a suggestive ‘many years’ written on a webpage or

interpretation panel. At coin-tree sites where no interpretation is offered at all,

members of the public are still inclined to believe that the structures are older than

they are.

Many people, when studying the coin-trees, have looked for ‘old coins’, and several

have asked me if I have discovered any, one young boy at Bolton Abbey (Appendix

2.12) even enquiring if I had come across any Roman coins. Even the custodians

appear to over-estimate the ages of their coin-trees, accidentally rather than by

design. For example, there is some dispute over the age of the Padley Gorge coin-

trees (Appendix 2.32) amongst the wardens and rangers; Chris Millner, Longshaw

Senior Warden, estimates that the custom began in the late 1970s or early 1980s

(pers. comm. 15/12/2011). Tom Lewis, Area Ranger, however, does not remember

the coin-trees being there when he worked at the site in the 1990s (pers. comm.

14/11/2011).

A similar disparity was evident at Marbury, Cheshire (Appendix 2.31). Jim Jeeves, a

volunteer ranger, seemed to believe that the custom was a long-standing one in the

park. Accompanying me to the coin-trees in August 2012, he proudly told me that

many of the coins were ‘very old’; when we looked closer at the dates and

determined that actually none of them were pre-decimalisation, he seemed rather

disappointed. ‘The coins are much older in the other one,’ he assured me. However,

the coins inserted into the second coin-tree were also all decimal. Jim, however, did

not seem to notice; pointing out a well-worn two pence piece, he erroneously

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claimed that it was an ‘old penny’. Chris Moseley, Park Warden, however, does not

believe that the custom far pre-dates 2008/2009 (pers. comm. 16/08/2012).

It is not difficult to understand why the age of this custom is often misconceived as

much greater than it is. People seem to assume that as a folkloric custom it must

necessarily also be a long-standing one, and this opinion is often supported by the

physical appearance of the coin-trees. Often when people find what they describe as

‘old pennies’ they are in fact looking at two pence pieces which have been weathered

beyond easy recognition, a process which takes surprisingly little time. Figure 111

shows that coins which are damaged and heavily worn may appear ‘old’, but closer

examinations reveal their years of mint to be very recent. Other coins (Fig. 112)

exhibit signs of verdigris, the green compound which affects copper or bronze upon

over-exposure to air (Sharpe 2003: 419). These coins cannot have been inserted into

their respective coin-trees prior to 2008 – evidenced by their years of mint or their

coat-of-arms designs – and yet in a few more years, because of weathering and

verdigris, they may be unrecognisable.

13 – LOCATION AND ORGANIC MANIPULATION

As with the misconception of age, the harnessing of a site or landscape’s ‘already

existing traditions’ in order to interpret the coin-tree custom is not always actively

fostered by the coin-tree custodians. It can also be an organic process instigated by

the participants themselves. It has already been demonstrated that the coin-tree

custom has been adapted to time, its ‘meanings’ modernised. The custom has not,

however, only been subject to temporal acclimatisation, but to geographic adaptation

also, geographic location greatly influencing the perceptions and interpretations of

participants.

Place names are one significant factor. As was discussed above, names are highly

instrumental in colouring people’s perceptions of a place, thing, or practice, and this

is clearly evident when the name of a coin-tree site fosters an association with local

legend. The Malham coin-trees (Appendix 2.30), for example, are located along a

trail which passes Janet’s Foss, a waterfall which, according to local legend, is the

home of the queen of the fairies, Janet/Jennet. Consequently, at Malham five

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different groups of visitors – all of whom claimed to have not read about the coin-

trees, and had therefore not been influenced by commercial adaptation of local

folklore – referred to ‘fairies’ whilst discussing the custom. One father told his son

that, by inserting a coin, you are ‘making a wish to the fairies’; a grandfather told his

grandchildren the same. One man, impatient to be on his way after his companion

had inserted a coin, said, ‘come on, we’re losing time watching the fairies’, whilst a

woman told her companion that people insert coins to make wishes to ‘Janet, the

fairy queen’, to which her companion sceptically replied, ‘the queen of the fairies is

called Janet?’

Fairy Glen (Appendix 2.19), on the Black Isle, is another example of the name of a

site influencing participants’ interpretations of the coin-tree custom. One mother

assured her two children that if they inserted a coin the fairies of the glen would

grant their wishes, while another woman opined that the custom was about ‘making

wishes, especially with it being called Fairy Glen’. The history of an area can also

impact personal interpretations; one woman, for instance, described how she had

originally regarded the custom as pagan, believing the Black Isle, an area ‘full of

myths and legends’, to have a long history of witchcraft.

Following this line of enquiry, I visited the owner of a small ‘crystal shop’, Panacea,

in the nearby village of Rosemarkie, which sells crystals, herbs, and aromatherapy

oils. When I asked the owner of this shop, Cornelia Hughes, if she was familiar with

the coin-tree custom, she seemed wryly amused by my query and admitted that the

custom is ‘not as esoteric as people think’. Although she asserted, quite firmly, that

the coin-tree belongs to ‘no Wiccan tradition’, she did accept that most visitors to

Fairy Glen assume a link to magic and witchcraft, and she can understand why; she

believes that Fairy Glen contains ‘great energy’.

The physical environment of the coin-tree can also influence perceptions of the

custom. At Snowdon, for example, three different groups referred, with varying

levels of earnestness, to their safety on the mountain as a central aspect of the

custom. One man from Australia jokingly queried if the coins are deposited as ‘an

offering to the mountain gods’; a young girl claimed that coins are inserted to ensure

the climber’s safety; whilst a male student from UCL suggested that people

participate as a ‘celebration for surviving the climb; a kind of ‘thank you mountain’’.

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This notion is comparative with cairn building: the deposition of a stone onto a cairn

in mountainous areas for good luck on the climb, and it is notable that several such

cairns were located on the same route up Snowdon as the coin-trees.

Alternatively, at Gougane Barra (Appendix 2.21), participants drew on the Christian

nature of the site, with one person theorising that the deposition of a coin was ‘a way

of making an offering to the saint of a place’; whilst another opined that the custom

was ‘like putting money in collection at church’. At Portmeirion (Appendix 2.33), on

the other hand, the architectural nature of the site – an Italian-styled village-cum-

holiday resort built between 1925 and 1975 – resulted in more secular

interpretations, with one man suggesting that the town’s architect, Sir Clough

Williams-Ellis, had created the coin-tree, and a woman querying if it was an art

project.

The most notable geographically-motivated interpretations of the coin-tree custom,

however, are dependent upon country, dividing the Scottish and Irish coin-trees from

those in England and Wales. While participants of the coin-tree custom in England

and Wales associate the coin-trees with vague notions of wishes and luck, in

Scotland and Ireland associations appear to be more focused. A particularly notable

example is the association of coin-trees with rag-trees and clootie wells, the history

of which was traced in Chapter 4.

14 – THE COIN-TREE AND THE RAG-TREE

One particularly notable example of a geographically-specific ‘already existing

tradition’, which was drawn upon in interpretations of a coin-tree, was the clootie

well of Munlochy (Fig. 113), the Black Isle, six miles south-west of the Fairy Glen

coin-trees. In a tradition which, according to Van den Eynden, possibly pre-dates the

7th

century AD (2010: 243), the trees surrounding the spring of Saint Boniface’s well

are heavily adorned with pieces of clothing in a custom which is still very much

observed today – together with the tradition of depositing a coin in the spring of

Saint Boniface’s well, which runs through the cluster of rag-trees (Fig. 114).

It is probably no coincidence that the Fairy Glen coin-trees are a mere six miles

away from this clootie well, which Van den Eynden describes as ‘the best known in

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Scotland’ (2010: 243). This is a site which pairs together the historic customs of

depositing coins in water and of adorning trees with personal objects, which are

intended to represent (or stand in as substitute for) the depositor. The coin-tree,

therefore, is particularly compatible with these two ‘already existing traditions’

because it can be viewed as an amalgamation of them; as the most recent incarnation

of two long-standing traditions.

Indeed, of the six groups interviewed at Fairy Glen, three opined that there is a

connection between coin-trees and clootie wells, drawing on a custom which they

were probably more familiar with. A man claimed that the coin-tree is probably ‘the

same thing as clootie wells; leaving offerings for healing or prayers’, while one

woman specifically connected the coin-trees to the clootie well of Munlochy,

claiming that if rag-trees are used for healing then ‘maybe coin-trees are too’. And it

is probably no coincidence that the only two interview participants who referred to

healing in their interpretations of coin-trees were at the same site – a site which is in

close proximity to a clootie well still in use today. Folk-remedies are evidently not

entirely redundant; they are, however, geographically limited, although not

exclusively to Scotland. In Ireland, for example, the customs of rag-trees/clootie

wells and coin-trees appear to be even more closely interconnected.

15 – HEALING IN IRELAND

As was demonstrated in Chapter 4, many coin-trees in Ireland are connected with –

or more accurately described as – rag-trees, with items of clothing often deposited

alongside coins (Figs. 115-116). The depositors of these objects are unknown, for I

did not witness participation. Having asked Jane O’Reilly, local business owner in

Fore, Co. Wesmeath (Appendix 2.20), who she believes inserts coins into the trees,

she admitted that she too had never actually seen anybody doing it; ‘and yet every

time I go there,’ she added, ‘more things have been attached’ (pers. comm.

04/10/2012). Her theory is that the participants of this custom are mainly ‘the

Travelling people’, who ‘still believe in the traditional ways of healing’. According

to Jane, many Irish Travellers visit Fore believing that the water from St. Feichin’s

vat (Fig. 117), located beside a rag-tree also embedded with coins, is curative. She

has heard that they bathe their children in the vat, then attach an offering to the

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nearby tree, and – not wishing to be seen by the local residents – they conduct these

rituals at night.

Jane’s theory connecting rag-trees with Irish Travellers is supported by opinions and

tales recounted by other local residents. The owners of a guesthouse in Abbeyleix,

Co. Laois, for example, opined that customs such as rag-trees are upheld

predominantly by ‘the Travellers’, an opinion also expressed by two local residents

in the city of Limerick, who asserted that Travellers attach rags to trees before

leaving an area; if the rag blows away, it is taken as an indication that the depositor

will not return to the site. And in Doon, Co. Limerick, a local business owner spoke

of a tree in Ireland – she could not remember its exact location – which ‘the

Travellers’ visit to cure warts.

Perhaps these accounts should be taken with a pinch of salt, considering the

stereotyping and prejudice that the Irish Travellers are often subjected to. However,

the customs recounted are certainly in-keeping with the literature on the subject,

which offers many examples of the Travellers’ beliefs in symbolic transference

(Trigg 1973: 40) and their veneration of holy wells and associated rag-trees.

Delaney, for example, recounts being told by Traveller children that ‘their families

travel across Ireland to go to healers and visit holy wells for cures’ (2000: 33), while

an extract in Griffin’s ‘The Globalization of Pilgrimage Tourism?’ presents an

account by Traveller children in Co. Wexford of their annual pilgrimage to holy

wells: ‘We go to holy wells in the summer and in the winter. We go to pray for other

people and for ourselves’ (2007: 27).

Holy wells are obviously not venerated solely by the Travellers, and their customs

and beliefs have much in common with the customs and beliefs of the Irish in

general. As Barnes writes, ‘[s]uperstitions shared by the Travellers appear no

different from those of Irish rural folk’; however, he also adds that ‘certain

superstitions have been “adapted to the road”’ (1975: 248). Traditional Christian

customs are rather uniquely re-interpreted by the Irish Travellers (Court 1985: 81),

whose religious beliefs are described by Trigg as ‘syncretic’ (1973: 27), and by

Griffin as a ‘faith mixed with superstition and visits to religious sites’ (2007: 27).

Their unique approaches to traditional Christianity are particularly evident at the

sites of holy wells, where, as Foley writes, ‘Travellers in particular, have a deep and

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unique set of practices at the well, which occasionally brings them into conflict with

religious and settled practices’ (2011: 477). Their ‘variant, even deviant use of the

sites’ and ‘unique performances’, as Foley writes (2011: 37), include the custom at

Father Moore’s Well, Tobernalt, to bathe their children in the water (Foley 2011:

477) – a custom reminiscent of the rituals apparently undertaken at St. Feichin’s vat

in Fore. The customs surrounding the holy wells of Ireland evidently blur the lines

between ‘religion’, ‘magic’, and ‘folk-medicine’ (Rackard et al. 2001: 7).

Foley believes that the Irish Travellers’ wide reverence for holy wells may actually

be the result of the settled communities’ negative perceptions and treatment of them:

‘Excluded from both spiritual (by a generally disengaged church) and medical

(through limited access to health care services) settings, Traveller’s [sic.] gravitate to

those healing places which were open to them and for which they have had a long

cultural attachment’ (2011: 37). This negative treatment of them, though, may have

also resulted in the adoption of a rather furtive, reticent approach to ritual –

highlighted by Jane O’Reilly of Fore, who claimed that the Travellers, widely

perceived as an enigmatic people (Trigg 1973: 1; Gmelch 1985: 3), prefer to conduct

their rituals in the privacy of night (pers. comm. 04/10/2012).

16 – MEMORY: A NEW ‘MEANING’

Coin-trees in the Republic of Ireland, therefore, may still be employed for healing, in

contrast to those in Scotland, such as Isle Maree, which appear to have shed their

folk-remedy associations, whilst those in England do not seem to have ever had such

associations. However, the customs of affixing rags and inserting coins prove not to

be entirely identical. Jane O’Reilly, describing the rag/coin-trees at Fore (Appendix

2.20), explained that the custom involves affixing an object that will ‘deteriorate

quickly, something close to you’ onto the branches of the trees (pers. comm.

04/10/2012).

These designations allude to a belief in sympathetic magic, whereby an object which

was ‘close to you’ is employed to represent the depositor’s malady, and as the object

degrades, the malady is also believed to deteriorate, subsequently leaving the

depositor cured (Bord and Bord 1985: 59; Foley 2011: 473). The ephemeral,

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transient nature of these deposits – having obviously negative archaeological

implications – is central to their roles in this custom, which is why, as Jane

explained, pieces of fabric are preferred over more durable objects. Jane used ‘tin-

foil’ as an example of the type of material which people would not deposit on these

trees, specifically because of its durability (pers. comm. 04/10/2012).

Ironically, however, tin-foil was found on one of the trees at Fore: a compact piece

of tin-foil attached to a rag on one of the coin/rag-trees (Fig. 118). And this is not the

only example of diuturnal materials being deposited on these trees, with metal

hairclips, bracelets, earrings, and key-rings adorning the trees’ branches in high

numbers. Coins, however, are the most obvious example of durable deposits,

contradicting the belief that objects are chosen for their temporality, and suggesting

that, although coin-trees may be employed for healing in the Republic of Ireland,

they may – like the coin-trees elsewhere in the British Isles – have evolved to fulfil

another purpose.

Recently, holy wells have developed what Foley terms ‘new meanings around grief,

hope and memorial, exemplified by left offerings marking premature death, serious

illness and loss’ (2011: 475). The holy wells, and their respective rag-trees,

therefore, are no longer solely the destinations of pilgrims seeking cures; they have

also become memorials for those whom the pilgrims have lost. At St. Bridget’s Well

and rag-tree in Liscannor, Co. Clare, for example, the narrow stone passageway

leading to the holy well is lined with hundreds of letters, photographs, photo frames,

statues, and rosary beads, amongst numerous other offerings, many of which were

clearly deposited in memorial for somebody (Figs. 119-120). As Rackard et al. aptly

note:

Some holy wells look like shrines to recycling, with discarded fire-grates,

bedsteads and even parts of washing machines framing the tokens of the

devotion. This most modest sort of holy well is not a dump, however…it is

just the opposite, for the rags, damaged statues and rusting metal are

consigned not to oblivion, but to memory (2001: 12)

A different kind of deposit is required for this new role of holy wells and rag-trees:

the durable kind. Participants in the custom of affixing objects to trees may no longer

be choosing specifically ephemeral deposits so that their maladies fade at the rate of

the deposit’s decay. Instead, objects may be deposited in memoriam for a lost loved

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one, chosen specifically for their durability. As Petts observes, durable monuments

‘serve to crystallise into physical form the dynamic act of remembrance’ (2003: 194-

195), whilst Bradbury notes that people desire a ‘concrete representation’ of their

loved ones (2001: 224). Metal objects – such as coins – would certainly fit this new

requirement.

Trees, likewise, provide suitable memorials. There is an aspect of durability to them,

but more importantly they can, according to Francis et al., represent ‘seasonal cycles

of birth, maturation, death, decay and regeneration’ (2001: 226). A relatively recent

development in memorialisation involves mourners planting trees in honour of the

deceased, a more eco-friendly custom than erecting headstones. The website Life for

a Life, for example, offers mourners the chance, for a minimum donation of £495, to

plant a tree in a ‘Memorial Forest’ (Life for a Life 2011). As Bradbury writes, these

‘‘woods for the dead’, which make oxygen for the living, beautifully illustrate the

fluid and flexible nature of our mortuary customs’ (2001: 225). They also illustrate

the fluid and flexible nature of trees, which, through the performance of

commemorative ceremonies (Connerton 1989: 44ff), can shift from natural structures

to monuments of memorialisation, a process which is evident at the Munlochy

clootie well, where a large piece of cloth, adorned with the words ‘R.I.P SCOTT’,

has been attached to a tree (Fig. 121).

Trees in roadside memorials have likewise been harnessed as ritualised mnemonic

devices (Jalland 2010: 263-265). To an extent, these trees ‘shift from site to

surrogate’, to use a phrase coined by Marion Bowman, Head of Religious Studies at

the Open University (pers. comm. 11/06/2013). For example, in North Radstock,

Somerset, where a tree was adopted as a memorial site for a young boy who had died

in a car accident, there were impassioned protests when plans emerged to remove the

tree to ease traffic congestion. On a ribbon attached to the tree was written ‘losing

this tree would be like losing [the victim] all over again’ (Marion Bowman, pers.

comm. 11/06/2013), illustrating the extent to which the tree had come to represent

the victim.

One example from my fieldwork demonstrates that coin-trees can equally be utilised

as monuments of memory. While I was collecting the empirical data of the coin-trees

in Fairy Glen, the Black Isle (Appendix 2.19), three women in their sixties, all from

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Norfolk, lingered on the bridge overlooking the waterfall and coin-trees, taking

photographs of them for several minutes. Concerned that I was intruding in their

photographs, I stepped away from the coin-trees and immediately – as if they had

been waiting for me to leave – the three women approached. They clearly wanted

privacy, and there was an air of solemnity as two of the women hung back and the

third moved forward, silently hammering pennies into two of the coin-trees. She

used a rock, conveniently placed atop the primary coin-tree, as a tool of percussion.

I lingered on the sidelines for a moment, waiting for the women to turn back towards

the bridge before I approached them. I aimed my questions at the woman who had

hammered the coins in, and she seemed more than happy to answer them. She told

me that she and her husband had visited Fairy Glen nearly every year for the past

decade, and had always inserted coins into the tree. However, since their last visit,

her husband had died, and so she had returned this year to continue their tradition ‘in

honour of him.’

This example is illustrative for a number of reasons. Firstly, it demonstrates the

performative and ritualised actions common to commemorative ceremonies

(Connerton 1989: 44ff): the air of solemnity as the woman stepped forward, her

friends lingering behind, and the respectful silence as she inserted the coins into the

tree. Secondly, it reveals another aspect – another ‘meaning’ – of the coin-tree: its

ability to act as a monument of memory; the coin as a durable mnemonic device

embedded into a structure which can be used to represent seasonal cycles, as well as

decay and regeneration. And thirdly, it clearly illustrates the mutability of ‘meaning’.

For the last decade, this woman and her husband had visited Fairy Glen and inserted

coins into the tree for a very different reason: to make wishes. Apparently they had

originally thought the custom was associated with magic, believing the Black Isle to

have a long history of witchcraft. However, following her husband’s death in 2011,

she returned to Fairy Glen and embedded more coins into the coin-trees, not to make

wishes but to act ‘in memory’ of her husband; ‘in honour’ of him. As a wife, she had

perceived the coin-tree custom very differently than as a widow. The ‘meaning’ of

the coin-tree, therefore, proves to be vague, mutable, and highly situational, not only

variously interpreted by different people in different locations, but also by the same

person in the same location, but at different stages in their life.

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17 – CONCLUSION

Coin-trees are not diverse structures. Granted, some are logs while others are stumps,

and some are still fledglings, containing only a few coins, whilst others are well-

established monuments, affixed with thousands. But essentially they are all alike:

they are trees adorned with coins, and the custom of deposition is similarly

homogenous. Even the historical examples of coin-trees, such as Isle Maree, are

united with the contemporary case-studies through the similarities of their

appearances and the relatively uniform methods of physical participation.

Physical evidence of homogeneity in how a structure is utilized or treated, however,

does not constitute uniformity of motive. The very nature of coin-trees – as

unofficial and enigmatic structures often stumbled upon by chance – encourages

great variation in the why of participation. What the coin-tree ‘means’ is dependent

upon who the participant is, who they are with – whether alone, in a group of peers,

with children – their emotional mood at the time, and at what stage in their life they

encounter a coin-tree. The coin-tree custom has not one ‘meaning’, but a myriad.

This situational aspect of folklore is not incidental, but often integral to its survival.

Because customs and symbols (such as the coin and the tree) can be diversely

interpreted, individuals can ascribe the ideas, purposes, and motivations that are

more suited to their position at the time of participation (Fernandez 1965: 906; Gore

1998: 66). They thus become broadly inclusive; anybody can participate if they wish.

The coin-tree, therefore, acts as what Eade and Sallnow term a ritual ‘void’, a space

which, (usually) free from authoritative prescription, can accommodate diverse

meanings and practices (1991: 15). It is for this reason that ambiguity and mutability

are often essential to a folkloric custom; ‘integral to its efficacy’, as Bell writes

(1992: 184). Its participants must be permitted the freedom to perceive and interpret

it as they choose, otherwise they may not participate at all.

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CHAPTER 7: THE FUTURE OF THE COIN-TREE

It is a dry and mild Thursday in June, and I am at the site of the Brock Bottom coin-

tree, Lancashire. I have arranged to meet Greg Robinson, a Countryside Ranger for

the Wyre Council who patrols the area, in the visitors’ car park. Greg greets me

enthusiastically, eager to show me the coin-tree. He leads me down to the River

Brock, where we follow a narrow but well-maintained path through the forest. He is

curious about my project and, as we walk, asks questions about the coin-tree

custom: he wants to know about other sites and where this custom originated.

Apparently he has been asked these questions by visitors but is always unsure how to

respond.

It is an easy walk, flat but a little muddy, and we follow the river for just over five

minutes before reaching the coin-tree. I fail to notice it at first. The log itself is large

and easily visible, its northern end jutting out onto the path, but not quite enough

coins have been inserted to make it immediately noticeable. Greg leads me to it,

The Ardmaddy Excavation, Argyll (Photograph by author)

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declaring ‘Here it is,’ with the gusto of a proud custodian, before proceeding to

point out the features he finds most interesting. He notes the numerous examples of

graffiti scratched into the tree’s bark, predominantly people’s initials, and remarks

on the number of coins that have been bent over during insertion, querying if this

was incidental or an aspect of the custom itself. He asks if other coin-trees are

similar.

Greg cannot stay with me for long; a secondary school class are coming for a

fieldtrip and he has to prepare for a lesson on how the forest has been affected by

human activities. I observe that the coin-tree would be a perfect example and he

assures me that they will be stopping to look at it. Soon enough, 30 or so students

are led around the corner by their teacher, who points out the coin-tree. One girl

asks, nonplussed, why anybody would want to put their money into a tree, while a

group of boys quip about dragging it to a bank and depositing the coins. As the

group moves away, one boy sits on the coin-tree and imitates riding a horse.

When asked his personal opinion of the custom, Greg replies that it ‘seems a fun

idea’ and adds that, over time, as the coin-tree becomes older and certain coins drop

out of service, it will become even more interesting. Visitors apparently stop to

examine the different coins, looking for pre-decimal examples; ‘It has created a bit

of an attraction,’ Greg remarks. However, as far as he is aware, Wyre Council have

not advertised the coin-tree as an attraction in any form, and while he does not

believe that the custom should be discouraged, neither does he think that measures

should be taken for its protection. He stresses the interactive nature of the coin-tree

as its most important feature, claiming that, ‘It’s there for people to sit on and

clamber about on. It will eventually rot away,’ he adds with a regretful shrug. ‘But

not for many years.’

PART 1: CONSERVING THE COIN-TREE

1 – INTRODUCTION

Thus far, this thesis has been concerned with coin-trees in the past and present

tenses. It has considered the historical customs and beliefs which may have led to the

coin-tree custom, and it has examined how the practice has manifested itself in the

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present day; how people interpret and engage with these contemporary structures.

For a fuller contextualisation, the tense shifts in this final chapter and the focus turns

instead to the coin-trees’ future.

Part one of this chapter will examine the heritage of coin-trees, asking whether these

structures are protected, whether they should be, and, if so, how. I will make

strategic recommendations based on experience during fieldwork and engagements

with custodians, heritage professionals, and members of the public. Part two will

draw on data collected during the Ardmaddy excavation (see Chapter 3 for

methodology and Appendix 5 for data) in considering the archaeological

implications of this folkloric custom. It will question what coin-trees will proffer as

future archaeological sites; what future archaeologists would find in 100-200 years

and how they would interpret those finds.

2 – THE MORTALITY OF THE COIN-TREE

‘Wood is a perishable material’, write Young and Lonsdale (1977: 3). This may

seem a fairly obvious point but it is a fact frequently forgotten. Trees appear to be

such permanent features in our landscape that we often overlook their mortality, but

all trees eventually succumb to gravity, and their remains – stumps, logs, branches –

are equally susceptible to the ill-effects of the passing of time. They decay, losing

mass through respiration, leaching, and fragmentation (Harmon et al. 1986: 156),

until there is little remaining of them. Indeed, this process has already reached a later

stage in some of the coin-tree case-studies (e.g. BA1, BA2, HF3, MH19), which may

be little more than fragments of woody debris within the next few years (Figs. 122-

124).

The coin-trees, however, are not only threatened by the natural processes of the

passage of time, but by human activity. The freedom to interact with these structures

may be the basis of their appeal (see Chapter 5), but it also threatens their longevity.

Actions such as touching, sitting on, and climbing over the coin-trees (Figs. 65-68)

may seem harmless, but they can cause erosion and damage, as well as eliciting fears

from the coin-tree custodians who are anxious to ensure their visitors’ safety. The

coin-tree log at Freeholders Wood, Yorkshire, for example, was removed by the

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forest rangers in c.2006 because, as Phillip Hibbs, Trees and Woodlands Officer,

notes, ‘it was in a dangerous condition (and people were climbing higher and higher

up the tree to knock in the coins)’ (pers. comm. 19/10/2011).

Elsewhere, damage and destruction through human intervention is even more

explicit. At High Force, County Durham (Appendix 2.24), the primary coin-tree was

destroyed in early 2012. As Figures 125-127 show, between 2009 and 2012 the log

underwent severe decomposition, and by the time fieldwork was conducted on the

site in September 2012 there was nothing left of the coin-tree bar fragmented woody

debris. Steve Gillard, Visitor Attraction Manager for High Force, however, does not

believe that the coin-tree’s disappearance was the result of natural causes: ‘The coins

disappeared, so I presume the visitors took them. I am under the impression that the

destruction of the branch had some human intervention, which is a great shame’

(pers. comm. 16/07/2012).

Similar events occurred at Clonenagh, Co. Laois (Appendix 2.15), where little

remains of the original coin-tree bar a coin-less fragment (Fig. 34), a scattering of

woody debris, and five coins distributed on the ground close to the present coin-tree.

Considering how prolifically the original tree had been coined (Fig. 33), it appears

that a high volume of coins have been removed from the site. At Hardcastle Crags,

Yorkshire (Appendix 2.23), this was taken one step further. Andrew Marsh, National

Trust Warden, describes how the site’s primary coin-tree ‘was stolen a couple of

years ago by some adventurous types who dragged it across the river and up a very

steep bank (I hope it was worth the effort)’ (pers. comm. 27/09/2011).

Despite the obvious vulnerability of these structures, few measures have been taken

to ensure their preservation and, judging by my engagements with their custodians,

no plans are in the pipeline to slow the rates of decay or prevent damage caused by

visitors. The Ardmaddy coin-tree, Argyll (Appendix 2.9), which is the focus of the

excavation detailed below, is the only coin-tree to be protected within a wooden

enclosure (Fig. 9), but the fence was erected to deter cattle rather than people, who

can still access the coin-tree via a stile.

On the whole, the coin-tree custodians exhibit rather resigned attitudes towards the

eventual destruction of the coin-trees, believing it to be inevitable. Ranger Greg

Robinson (see above) admitted that the coin-tree at Brock Bottom (Appendix 2.13)

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‘will eventually rot away, but not for many years’, an opinion shared by Graeme

McVittie, Woodland Officer of Tarr Steps, who sees no point in protecting the coin-

trees in his custodianship because they will ‘decay over time’ (pers. comm.

16/01/2013). Likewise, one visitor in Cumbria opined that ‘there’s no point

protecting it; you can’t stop the tree from decaying. It’s just the cycle of life’.

However, some heritage professionals have exhibited concern over the protection

and preservation of coin-trees. Joanna Pugh, an external affairs consultant working

for the National Trust, informed me that: ‘we have a coin tree at our property at Aira

Force…which is raising some interesting questions in terms of management and

protection’ (pers. comm. 21/05/2013). Whilst Sharon Webb, Director of Kilmartin

House Museum, appeared greatly relieved when I contacted her regarding my small-

scale excavation at the site of the Ardmaddy coin-tree. She responded with:

‘Fantastic, we have been quite concerned about the tree and the deposits in and

around it as it slowly dies. It’s a very well loved tree’ (pers. comm. 05/03/2013).

Evidently the preservation of these structures is a concern for some.

This division of opinion leads to the question of whether the eventual destruction or

disappearance of the coin-trees should be accepted as inevitable, or should we be

actors rather than witnesses, actors with the opportunity – or even obligation – to

implement and promote preservation practices? The answers to these questions are

not clear-cut, dependent as they are upon a number of factors, not least how effective

preservation attempts might prove to be. However, the foremost determinant is

whether or not we consider the coin-trees to be ‘worthy’ of protection.

3 – ‘GREEN MONUMENTS’

Trees have a long history of being valued and protected. Cultures worldwide have

demonstrated a tendency to regard specific trees as ‘special’ and to subsequently

bestow upon them a certain level of protection (Schwarze et al. 2000: 1), and

modern-day Britain is no exception. The most recent ‘incarnation’ of the

Glastonbury Thorn – the hawthorn which supposedly grew from Joseph of

Arimathea’s staff when he visited Glastonbury with the Holy Grail – is today

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protected behind a fence (Fig. 134, see below), and there are probably vast numbers

of other trees venerated and safeguarded by their local communities.

The Major Oak of Sherwood Forest, the hollow trunk of which was purportedly used

as a hide-out by Robin Hood, is one such example. The Nottinghamshire County

Council website states: ‘Because of its national importance, conservation measures

to the tree have been carried out continually since 1908’; conservation measures

which include a protective fence, steel poles supporting its heaviest branches, and

tree surgeons inspecting it periodically.

Likewise in Wales, the inhabitants of Carmarthen have carefully preserved an old

oak stump in concrete and enclosed it behind railings for protection, local legend

asserting that ‘when the oak falls down, then sink the town’, and there was great

concern when plans to improve Carmarthen’s central road threatened the removal of

this stump (Wilks 1972: 135). Other communities have also rejected council plans

which have endangered ‘special’ trees, and Milner cites numerous examples of trees

in Ireland which, predominantly because of their association with fairies, are stoutly

protected by the local populace at the expense of road development (1992: 140).

In Ireland, such trees are listed on the online Heritage Tree Database (Tree Council

of Ireland nd.), a list which has been added to by members of the public following

the online plea: ‘We all want our heritage and ancient trees to survive as long as

possible and to do this we need to protect them. The only way we can do this is to

know where they are...’ So far, over 1300 ‘heritage trees’ have been added. Included

amongst these are the coin-trees of Gougane Barra (Appendix 2.21), Fore (Appendix

2.20), and Clonenagh (Appendix 2.15), which are clearly well-established structures

in their local areas. In fact, the original Clonenagh coin-tree is well enough

established to have been listed as a registered historical site on the National

Monuments Service website, labelled the ‘Holy Tree’ (SMR No. LA017-003004)

(National Monuments Service nd.).

In Scotland, certain trees have also been given official heritage status. In 2002, a

panel of judges awarded the accolade of ‘Heritage Tree of Scotland’ to 100 trees;

amongst this list is the Ardmaddy coin-tree, dubbed by Rodger et al. the ‘Wishing

Tree of Argyll’ (2003: 87). The coin-tree’s custodian, Charles Struthers of

Ardmaddy Castle, was awarded a wooden trophy inscribed with the words

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‘Scotland’s Heritage Trees 2002: Wishing Tree’, which he proudly displayed on my

visit to the site (Fig. 128).

Less official and standardised attention, however, appears to have been given to trees

of England and Wales. The British Tree Council launched its ‘Green Monuments

Campaign’ in 2003 when it outlined the shortcomings of tree preservation in a letter

to Tessa Jowell, former Secretary of State at the Department of Culture, Media and

Sport. On their website, they state the following:

The value of trees of historical, cultural or ecological importance is already formally

recognised in many countries. This is not the case in the UK.

In contrast to historic buildings, there are no legal safeguards specific to ancient

trees or others of heritage significance. Many of them could be felled tomorrow

without penalty. (Tree Council nd.)

In order to rectify this, the Tree Council are attempting to compile a list of ‘heritage

trees’ in Britain and Ireland, and are campaigning for ‘safeguards for green

monuments’; ‘encouragement for custodians to look after them’, and ‘support and

advice on their care’. A condensed list of these ‘green monuments’ is presented in

Stokes and Rodger’s The Heritage Trees of Britain and Northern Ireland (2004),

which reproduces the entry on the Ardmaddy coin-tree from Rodger et al.’s Heritage

Trees of Scotland (2003: 87), but does not refer to any of the English or Welsh coin-

trees. The vast majority of coin-trees are therefore not recognised as ‘green

monuments’, in need of protection or preservation.

4 – THE COIN-TREE’S AMBIGUITY

Having investigated the reasons behind the coin-tree’s absence on such lists, it was

discovered that it is these structures’ ambiguity which excludes them from the remit

of the leading English heritage organisations. English Heritage, for example,

informed me that they would not be responsible for the preservation of coin-trees

unless they were listed structures (pers. comm. Lynne Taylor, Assistant Practice

Manager, English Heritage, 14/06/2013). However, the designation coordinators at

English Heritage claim that they ‘do not designate natural features such as trees, and

therefore would have no involvement in the preservation of coin-trees’ (pers. comm.

Victoria Ellis, Designation Coordinator, English Heritage, 24/06/2013). They

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advised that Natural England and Tree Preservation Orders (TPOs) would be more

appropriate.

However, Natural England state that coin-trees fall outside their remit also: ‘Tree

preservation orders can be made on live trees but as most [coin-trees] are felled then

that would not apply’ (pers. comm. Jim, Natural England, 23/09/2013). The

Environment and Transport Administration repeated this: ‘TPOs are usually placed

on living trees’ (pers. comm. Sarah Tudor, 04/10/2013). Natural England state that

the coin-trees will instead be ‘the responsibility of the land owner’ (pers. comm. Jim,

Natural England, 23/09/2013). It is therefore the coin-tree’s ambiguity as a natural

but no longer living feature which excludes it from the remit of the large English

heritage organisations, and results in it simply falling instead under the jurisdiction

of individual custodians.

However, as noted above, individual custodians are often indifferent about

preserving their coin-trees or unsure how to. The National Trust, for example, is the

largest custodian of coin-trees, managing 13 of the 33 coin-tree sites in the British

Isles, resulting in at least 90 individual coin-trees being in their care. However, none

of these are protected. Although rangers and wardens are beginning to consider the

conservation of coin-trees (see Joanna Pugh’s comments above), the National Trust

have not yet implemented any strategies of preservation.

As a major custodian of British trees generally, managing nearly 25,000 hectares of

woodland in England, Wales, and Northern Ireland, Watkins, writing for the

National Trust magazine, asserts that they take the responsibility of tree

custodianship very seriously (2011: 32). As Watkins rightly asks, ‘is it not strange

that if…ancient trees are as much a gateway into the past as a historical castle, they

do not share the same legal protection?’ (2011: 32). He advocates a resolution, put

before the National Trust AGM in 2000, which proposed that ‘trees should be given

as much care as old houses and landscaped gardens’ (2011: 32). However, as

promising as this resolution was, the National Trust’s assurance to value and protect

their trees has evidently not stretched to include coin-trees.

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5 – AGE, AUTHENTICITY, AND THE HERITAGE DEBATE

The discrepancy between what was proposed by the National Trust and what is

actually being done to protect these structures may be due to a matter of perception

of value. One word used by Watkins is highly illustrative of this, implying that a

certain category of trees are valued over others: that word is ‘ancient’, clearly

indicating that the category of trees he is referring to as deserving of the National

Trust’s protection are trees which boast a certain antiquity. As explored in Chapter 4,

only a minority of the coin-trees would fit this requirement: Isle Maree, Ardmaddy,

and the four sites in Ireland, while the remaining coin-tree sites date to the late

1990s/early 2000s.

However, if we perceive age to be an authenticating virtue (see Chapter 6), does its

absence necessarily denote inauthenticity? Does a lack of antiquity designate an

object or structure unworthy of protection and heritage status? To some, it would

appear so. Victorian art critic John Ruskin, for example, writing of architecture,

opined that the ‘greatest glory of a building is not in its stones, nor in its gold. Its

glory is in its Age, and in that deep sense of voicefulness’ (1849: 172). In Ruskin’s

opinion, therefore, it is a structure’s antiquity rather than its physical or cultural

virtues that merits attention.

In recent years, however, heritage professionals have begun to challenge this time-

centred criterion for attention (Byrne 2009: 230). Schofield, writing of ‘Modern

Times’ for the Conservation Bulletin, poses the following questions:

Is there consensus on what we allow into the heritage ‘club’ and what are the

rules of admission? What do we leave at the door because it is thought to be

too new or too everyday – and often both? How and when should its

definition be extended into modern times, a period for which we have an

abundance of site types, perceptions, experiences and sources? (2007: 2)

English Heritage, perhaps in response to such questions, have broadened their

definition of ‘heritage’. They have begun to, as Penrose writes, challenge ‘the

current orthodoxy within the heritage industry that places value, or assigns sites a

designated protective status, only once a respectable ‘cut-off’ period of at least 30

years has passed’ (2007: 9). In the early 2000s they began to advocate progressive

forward planning and established an English Heritage programme entitled ‘Change

and Creation’, which addressed the question of whether aspects of the British

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landscape from 1950-2000 can be considered as part of our ‘heritage’ and

subsequently should be protected (Bradley et al. 2004).

If we begin to record and preserve the monuments of the late 20th

and early 21st

centuries now, then we can address our own heritage and legacy while it still

survives; as Schofield notes: ‘Today’s landscapes have the potential to become

tomorrow’s heritage’ (2007: 2). The heritage industry, therefore, has begun to view

modern-day structures and landscapes in a different light; as not only worthy of

preservation, but – in some cases – in need of it. The coin-trees’ modernity should

therefore not exclude them from the heritage industry’s attention. The question

remains, however, whether we should actively protect them. As Bradley et al. ask,

‘should time and nature be allowed to decide what our legacy is?’ (2004: 5).

The threats encountered by the coin-trees, as outlined above, are numerous. Not only

will the naturally destructive processes of time take their tolls on the trees, but the

public’s physical interactions with them, although central to the custom, endanger

the structures themselves; here the ‘devotees’ are the ‘destroyers’ (Lowenthal 1995:

124). While contemporary structures, such as coin-trees, may appear stable and

permanent, they are often surprisingly ephemeral (Bradley et al. 2004: 7), and if

there is concern for the loss of cultural memory (Connerton 2006), then it is

important to plan preservation before it is needed. However, if actions were taken to

protect and preserve the coin-trees, what forms would they take?

6 – REMOVING THE COIN-TREE

Removal has become a major method of historical salvage (Lowenthal 1985: 285).

The coin-trees could be removed from their natural, accessible – and subsequently

destructive – environments, and transported to museums or other centres for

conservation. There are, for example, instances of coin-trees and coin-tree sections

having been removed for storage by custodians. However, the success of these

conservation attempts either remains to be seen or is ambiguous at best. For

example, at Freeholders Wood, as described above, the forest rangers removed the

coin-tree, anxious for their visitors’ safety, and, as Phillips Hibbs explained, the

‘majority of the stem was taken away to one of our nearby workshops, but has since

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disappeared!’ (pers. comm. 16/12/2011). Possibly due to a lack of diligence on the

custodians’ part, the current location of this coin-tree is now unknown.

Another example of coin-tree removal involves an attempt made by a local resident;

a section of the original Ardboe coin-tree, which fell during the winter of 1973-74,

was salvaged by Pat Grimes. However, nearly four decades later the wood has

decayed so completely that nothing remains of the section itself bar 79 coins, which

Pat stores in a cup beside his front door (pers. comm. 07/04/2012). No doubt the

same fate awaits another five salvaged sections, two of which are from the later

Ardboe coin-tree, which fell during a storm in 1997. One is now stored in a garage

behind Coyle’s Cottage, the home of the Muintirevlin Historical Society (Fig. 129),

whilst another is contained within a cardboard box and held in store at the Ulster

Folk and Transport Museum (Fig. 130) (ACNR 346-1998).

Another three sections are fallen limbs from the Ardmaddy coin-tree, two of which

are stored on a shelf above a sink in the games room of Ardmaddy Castle (Fig. 131),

whilst the third is displayed amidst plant pots, buckets, and geological ‘curiosities’

on a ledge beside the castle’s main entrance (Fig. 132). Although these sections are

all intact at present, they will not remain so for long; even protected from the

elements and further coin-insertion, they are not adequately stored to greatly delay

the rate of decay.

Certain methods can be employed to conserve wood, which involve creating

environments which restrict the activities of wood rotting fungi or bacteria

(O’Sullivan 1990: 69). In the timber industry, for example, wet storage is employed

for conserving boles; this method involves keeping wood moisture at a high level by

artificial irrigation, denying the input of oxygen to the timber. This method,

however, involves high investment costs and monitoring input (Odenthal-Kahabka

2009), and is therefore probably unfeasible for the preservation of coin-trees – not to

mention possibly destructive to the coins themselves. While wet storage may

conserve the wood, it will have a different effect on the metal.

This is a problem often encountered with the conservation of wood-metal composite

objects (pers. comm. Sam Sportun, Collections Care Manager and Senior

Conservator, Manchester Museum, 30/01/2013). Waterlogged wood, for example, is

often impregnated with polyethylene glycol (PEG) for preservation, but PEG

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solutions are acidic and would corrode the coins (Selwyn et al. 1993: 180). And

while there are certain solutions which can treat waterlogged wood while minimizing

corrosion of the metal – Selwyn et al. advocate Witcamine RAD 1100, a resin which

can be used instead of PEG (1993: 194) – it is clear that the presence of metal in

coin-trees would complicate conservation processes.

Even if removal of the coin-trees could ensure the preservation of both the wood and

the coins, there are still numerous disadvantages, the most grievous being, in

Lowenthal’s opinion, ‘the loss of environmental context’ (1985: 286). Attempts,

however, can be made to recreate this environmental context. Lynn Museum,

Norfolk, for example, have produced a replica of the boles and inverted stump of

Seahenge (see Chapter 2), advertising on their website that, as a visitor, you can:

‘Step back in time as you walk into a life size replica of Seahenge’. Although such a

recreation is by its very nature static and artificial (Pye 2001: 73), and a museum

environment is a far-cry from the salt-marsh it probably originally stood in

(Brennand 2004), efforts have been made to simulate experience and physical

engagement.

It is not, however, only an artefact’s environment which changes during removal; the

artefact itself is altered. Classen and Howes believe it to be ‘inevitable’ that an

object, removed from its place of production and stored in a museum, should take on

a different role (2006: 201). For example, the original Seahenge boles, preserved

with PEG and vacuum freeze-dried, are now viewed statically within glass cases;

whilst every effort has been made to preserve their physical structures, their socio-

cultural context has been dramatically altered.

A museum environment, according to Macdonald, almost sanctifies an object: ‘Once

they are in museums – such is the magic-conferring power of these institutions –

objects are special.’ (2002: 92). This opinion is shared by Paine, who notes a striking

parallel between ‘museumification’ and ‘sacralization’ (2013: 2), asserting that when

an object becomes a ‘museum object’ it ‘acquires a new meaning, a new value, a

new personality’ (2013: 2). This process is what Kirshenblatt-Gimblett terms the

‘museum effect’ (1991: 410), whereby objects become ‘enshrined’ by their museum

environments (1991: 386). Objects are perceived differently if viewed through the

glass of a museum cabinet (Crowther 1989: 43); they have certain virtues bestowed

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upon them because of their environment (Gathercole 1989: 74) and, according to

Pearce, they come to ‘share a perceived spiritual or intellectual worth’ (1992: 33).

The fragment of the Ardboe coin-tree at Ulster Folk and Transport Museum (Fig.

130), for example, has entered another stage of its biography; it is no longer a tree to

be touched, climbed on, and embedded with coins. It is a historical artefact, to be

looked at, studied, and handled with care – if at all. Indeed, upon my visit to the

museum it struck me how differently I engaged with this coin-tree section than I

have done with others. Although always careful with tactile examinations, I was

particularly hesitant to touch this section, concerned that it would fragment, and I

handled it gingerly, with an almost reverential care.

However, ‘museumizing’ objects does more than ‘sanctify’ them; it also anchors and

ossifies them in a process of ‘museumification’. It occurred to me that the location of

the Ardboe coin-tree section – in the store of a museum – not only prohibits it from

being actively engaged with by members of the public, but prevents it from being

seen by them. Only my academic credentials privileged me this engagement with the

section; as Gathercole observes, some objects ‘are at the core of museum

scholarship, locked away in store-rooms, revealing their secrets only to the initiated’

(1989: 76). Therefore another effect of museum acquisition is the fostering of a (real

or perceived) sense of inaccessibility (Pye 2001: 75).

As Macdonald asserts, museums ‘remove [objects] from daily use and transaction. A

museum, for most objects, is a final resting place – a moment frozen in time for

future contemplation’ (Macdonald 2002: 92). Although placing an object in a

museum will probably extend its material life, it is no longer a ‘living’ object. As

Jones observes, ‘prolonging the object’s existence materially is not necessarily

equivalent to continuing its social ‘life’’ (2006: 120). A coin-tree or coin-tree

fragment no longer plays a role in the coin-tree custom once it has been stored away

in a box, a shed, a museum. It has become an artefact rather than an agent in a

folkloric custom, simply because people can no longer insert coins into its bark. It is

clear therefore that, if the desire is to conserve the social life of a coin-tree as well as

its material existence, preservation should be performed in situ.

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7 – PRESERVATION IN SITU

Butler, discussing ‘heritagization’, observes how landscapes and monuments are

altered during the processes of preservation (2006: 468), while Smith and Akagawa

comment on the difficulties involved in safeguarding heritage that is part of ‘living

culture’ without ‘fossilising, freezing or trivializing it’ (2009: 2-3). The heritage

industry aims to achieve a delicate balance between preserving a physical site whilst

simultaneously allowing the continuation of the associated intangible cultural

heritage (Timothy and Boyd 2003), but they do not always succeed.

Timothy and Boyd, examining the wear and tear suffered by heritage sites through

substantial tourist numbers, list education and interpretation as potential management

strategies (2003: 174-175). This method has been adopted at Hadrian’s Wall, where

heritage professionals acknowledge that they have two primary aims: to conserve the

site but also to make it available for public enjoyment and education (Hadrian’s Wall

Heritage 2008a: 16). They advocate displaying conservation messages at key areas

along the wall, communicating the fragility of the site and appealing to visitors’

consciences by reminding them that their actions could determine whether or not the

site will be preserved for future generations (Hadrian’s Wall Heritage 2008b: 68).

For this purpose, a code of conduct was issued entitled Every Footstep Counts

(Hadrian’s Wall Heritage 2007: 5), which advises visitors on how they should

behave on Hadrian’s Wall’s National Trail, not forbidding certain behaviour but

explaining the damage it can cause.

Through similar use of displays, exhibits, and printed brochures, the public could be

made aware of the dangers posed to the longevity of the coin-trees. Information

boards erected beside the coin-trees could request that visitors do not climb on the

structures, explaining the damage caused. However, as physical engagement is

central to the custom of the coin-tree, and as some custodians recognise this – such

as Greg Robinson at Brock Bottom – they may not wish to implement such

restrictions, recognising that they would change the nature of the sites themselves.

Skounti (2009) demonstrates how a site can be transformed by preservation attempts,

not necessarily for the better, by considering the heritage of Place Jemaâ El Fna, a

market square in Marrakech. This square has been an open area of performance and

trade for much of Marrakech’s 1000 year history; however, 21st-century preservation

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attempts limited access to the square, consequently compromising the intangible

cultural heritage of the site. The individuals bound up in this cultural heritage, from

henna artists to snake-charmers, were denied the freedom to utilise the site as they

had done previously, and many locals complained that the square had ‘lost its nature’

(Skounti 2009: 87).

8 – FENCING/FOSSILIZING: THE STONEHENGE CASE-STUDY

Another useful comparative case-study for issues of preservation is Stonehenge,

access to which has been a contested subject for over a century now. Prior to the 20th

century, the prehistoric monument of Stonehenge in Wiltshire was accessible to all,

as the coin-trees are today. However, unlimited accessibility led to increasing

damage, the 19th

century seeing visitors regularly chipping away at the stones for

‘souvenirs’, chalking and carving marks onto them, and leaving mounds of litter at

the site (Chippindale 1978: 110-111). Guards and police were employed to attend the

stones over the years, but their presence was not enough and in 1900 two of the

stones fell. Incensed by this damage, in 1901 the custodian of the site erected a fence

to enclose the monument and began charging a shilling for admission (Chippindale

1978: 112). As Darvill writes, Stonehenge became ‘caged and tamed as never

before’ (2006: 19).

In 1978, a further step was taken to prevent damage: another fence was erected, this

one preventing even paying visitors from walking amongst the stones. Instead

visitors could only view Stonehenge from the path to the west of the monument

(Richards 1991: 130). Today, a circular route has been constructed together with a

viewing platform (Darvill 2006: 276-277), but the monument remains physically

inaccessible to anybody without the proper academic credentials – or the money – to

arrange private viewings, except for one day a year, the Summer Solstice, when

visitors are temporarily permitted to walk amongst the stones (Darvill 2006: 275).

The monument of Stonehenge is now well protected, but at what cost? As Bender

asserts, the landscape of Stonehenge ‘has become ossified and roped off’ (1998:

146). Accessibility, however, is not always the issue; most visitors, past and present,

seem more concerned with the aesthetically crippling effects of the fences.

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Following the erection of the first enclosure in 1901, a group of archaeologists led by

Flinders Petrie protested against the ‘artistic’ debilitation of the fence. In a letter to

The Times on 7th

February, 1901, Petrie contended:

To do anything to break the marvellous effect of the lonely plain and great

masses of stone would be cruel. The sight is the most impressive in England,

and on no account should it be destroyed by a hideous iron railing (cited in

Chippindale 1978: 115).

Almost a century later, Bender makes a similar complaint, proclaiming that ‘[r]oped

off, fenced in, set in their polite green sward, the stones today are viewed by the

visitor in isolation’ (1998: 6). They have been removed from the surrounding

landscape, designated a ‘museum piece’ rather than a ‘living site’ (1998: 9).

The negative effects of the enclosure are even commented on by experts in

sustainable tourism. In 2006, National Geographic interviewed a panel of 419

experts on 94 World Heritage destinations. Stonehenge did not rate highly, one

sustainable tourism expert observing that ‘the site is protected by fencing to

discourage defacing the structures, but the visual sightlines are disrupted’, while

another remarked that ‘overregulation has made the visitor’s experience rather

disappointing, charm is gone’ (Tourtellot 2006). Granted, efforts have recently been

undertaken to improve the infrastructure of the site, by relocating the visitor centre

and decreasing the level of fencing (Department for Culture, Media & Sport 2011),

and as Morris, writing for The Guardian, opines, the ‘removal of stock fences and

ugly security barriers is…bound to be welcomed by just about everyone’ (2011).

However, a rope fence still prevents visitors from walking amongst the stones.

As Lowenthal observes: ‘Protection can debase the ambience of antiquities even

when their fabric remains intact’ (1985: 276); protection keeps the structures

standing, but it does not keep them ‘alive’. Enclosing the coin-trees within fences is,

therefore, not an ideal solution. As interview participants at the coin-tree sites have

opined, protection of the structures should not be undertaken at the expense of the

custom. Many people fear that protecting the coin-trees behind fences might detract

from the aesthetics, making them ‘eyesores’, as suggested by one woman in

Cumbria. Barriers would also prevent, or at least discourage, people from inserting

their own coins, a concern expressed by several of the participants. The general

consensus appeared to be that the coin-trees should ‘definitely be kept accessible’ to

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the general public, with one teenage girl from Dovedale asserting that protecting the

coin-trees behind fences would ‘defeat the object’ of them.

In conclusion, the erection of fences would prove almost as restrictive as removing

the coin-tree entirely. All methods of preservation thus appear to pose problems,

either removing the coin-trees from their environmental contexts or from their

cultural/social contexts. At the centre of the coin-tree custom is the public’s freedom

to participate, and there appears to be no method suitable for protecting the structures

of the coin-trees without simultaneously suppressing the custom and designating the

coin-trees relics of the past rather than ‘living sites’, freezing them at one particular

point in time (Jones 2006). As Munjeri observes, ‘intangible heritage does not

survive under overly interventionist and or restrictive conditions’ (2009: 148).

9 – ‘FREEING’ NOT ‘FREEZING’: INTANGIBLE CULTURAL HERITAGE

If there is no solution for preserving the physical structures of the coin-trees without

suppressing the custom, perhaps doing the opposite is in order: preserving the

custom at the expense of the structures (Cameron 1995: 285). As Liebs writes,

‘cultural processes are, in some instances, as important as the artifacts they produce’

(1995: 366), and in order to preserve them, Munjeri advocates ‘freeing’ rather than

‘freezing’ the conditions under which the custom exists (2009: 148). Too many

restrictions and prescriptions smother a custom, and so rather than enforcing

censorships in order to protect the tangible heritage, perhaps attention should be

given instead to the intangible cultural heritage.

UNESCO defines intangible cultural heritage as ‘the practices, representations,

expressions, knowledge, skills – as well as the instruments, objects, artefacts and

cultural spaces associated therewith – that communities, groups and, in some cases,

individuals recognize as part of their cultural heritage’ (2003: 2.1). A widespread

concern for the preservation of the intangible aspects of cultural heritage is a fairly

recent phenomenon, and the heritage industry is still endeavouring to identify the

most appropriate means of securing its safeguard (Skounti 2009).

This search was officially begun in 2003, when the Convention for the Safeguarding

of the Intangible Cultural Heritage (hereafter ICHC) was established as a

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counterpoint to the 1972 World Heritage Convention, which privileged the world’s

grand and aesthetic sites and monuments over its intangible cultural expressions

(Smith and Akagawa 2009: 1). It was adopted by UNESCO’s General Conference in

2003 and entered into force in many countries (notably excluding the UK) in 2006

(Smith and Akagawa 2009). Its primary purpose was to ‘safeguard the intangible

cultural heritage’ (UNESCO 2003: 1a), which involves ‘measures aimed at ensuring

the viability of the intangible cultural heritage, including the identification,

documentation, research, preservation, protection, promotion, enhancement,

transmission, particularly through formal and non-formal education, as well as the

revitalization of the various aspects of such heritage’ (UNESCO 2003: 2.3).

10 – SUSTAINABILITY

As Kurin notes, the ICHC cannot ensure the viability of intangible cultural heritage,

but it can – and should – ‘aid traditional cultural practices and their practitioners so

they have the opportunity to survive and even flourish’ (2004: 74). In order to aid the

cultural practice of the coin-tree, therefore, the opportunity for participation in the

custom must be maintained, which would certainly not involve enclosing or

removing the coin-trees, and the materials required – the coins and the trees – must

retain their accessibility. So long as participants can source trees and coins, there will

be viability for the continuation of this custom.

However, in some cases, even when the materials are present, other issues may

prevent the continuation of the coin-tree custom. Some custodians, for example, do

not view the process of dissemination favourably, exhibiting anxiety over the

practical consequences of the custom spreading to other trees. Stephen Dowson,

National Trust Ranger at Aira Force (Appendix 2.7), for example, opines that the

primary coin-tree is a ‘lovely sculpture’ and does not believe the custom should be

discouraged. However, he adds, ‘We are starting to get coins knocked in at other

areas like tops of posts, wooden gates and on standing live trees which we do not

want’ (pers. comm. 27/09/2013). Sam Stalker, National Trust Ranger at Tarn Hows

(Appendix 2.38), repeats this sentiment, claiming that their primary coin-tree ‘is a

feature that I would personally like to keep, as it provides some intrigue and

entertainment for visitors’. However, he adds that he would ‘not like to see lots of

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coin trees being created around the tarn, as [a] bit of metal pushed into trees can be

dangerous if you ever had to cut them up with a chainsaw in the future’ (pers. comm

23/09/2013).

Likewise, the custodians of the island of Gougane Barra (Appendix 2.21) have been

attempting to deter visitors from inserting coins into trees, in order to protect them

from copper poisoning. A sign was attached to the current primary coin-tree (GB1),

requesting visitors to not insert coins into its bark. This sign was no longer attached

to the tree on my visit in September 2012; however, numerous coin-sized slots are

evident in GB1, as well as other trees on the island, suggesting that the custodians

may have been removing the coins in an attempt to suppress dissemination. They

have not responded to my queries, and so have neither confirmed nor denied this.

11 – COMBATING THE CUSTOM: THE GLASTONBURY THORN

Another tree within the British Isles has been subject to similar treatment, with the

coins embedded in its bark having been removed in order to prevent the proliferation

of the custom: the Glastonbury Thorn. This is a hawthorn (Crataegus) growing atop

Wearyall Hill, Somerset, which is believed to be the offspring of the original Holy

Thorn. This tree is said to have sprung from St. Joseph of Arimathea’s staff, which

he thrust into the ground on his visit to Britain in the 1st century AD. Together with

its offspring, this tree purportedly blossomed annually at Christmas in

commemoration of Christ’s nativity (Walsham 2011: 492). It is, according to Milner,

England’s ‘most celebrated sacred tree’ (1992: 141).

There are currently several ‘Holy Thorn’ offshoots within the town. One, however, is

most widely associated with the original because it is said to stand where St. Joseph

thrust his staff into the ground (Fig. 133). This tree (known hereafter as the

Glastonbury Thorn) was planted in 1951 by members of Glastonbury Town Council

but was vandalised in 2010, with unknown vandals cutting down its branches. New

shoots began to grow and tourists continued to visit it, but its popularity is believed

to put this fragile tree at risk; I first became aware of the site following an article on

BBC News (Jenkins 2012), which describes how visitors threaten the vandalised

tree’s recovery by inserting coins into its bark.

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On my visit to the site, John Coles, former mayor of Glastonbury, accompanied me

to Wearyall Hill where the current, vandalised Glastonbury Thorn stands, together

with a young sapling, also said to be the offspring of the original Thorn (Figs. 133-

134). Both are protected within metal enclosures. Although there were no coins

inserted into the Glastonbury Thorn on the day of my visit, there were numerous

ribbons, some adorned with names or personal messages, affixed to the railings of

the protective fence. Several of these messages refer to the ‘solstice’, indicating that

their depositors were at the site during the summer and winter solstices (one at least

in 2012, according to the message), which is a particularly popular time for

Neopagan pilgrimage to the site (John Coles, pers. comm. 06/04/2013).

John Coles explains that the ribbons, when densely clustered, prevent sunlight from

reaching the trees, and so he visits Wearyall Hill at least once a month in order to

remove them. He also comes equipped with a knife to dislodge any coins he finds

inserted, asserting that the copper will kill the trees. There have been other deposits

which he has felt inclined to remove: pieces of paper with what he terms ‘pagan or

atheist obscenities’ written on, as well as a number of rather obscene items, such as

condoms. He estimates that this custom of depositing objects at the Glastonbury

Thorn began in the early 2000s. It is unclear who has been depositing the coins – and

why – for no participants were present on the day of my visit. However, John Coles

perceives this as a negative, destructive practice, hoping to prevent damage to the

tree by removing coins whenever he sees them.

12 – STRATEGIC RECOMMENDATIONS

The above examples highlight the perceived negative effects of the coin-tree custom,

presenting dissemination as a process that requires regulation. At Gougane Barra and

Glastonbury, the chosen method of regulation is simply the removal of the coins and

other deposited objects. This raises certain questions concerning heritage

management. Is it the modernity of the coins at Gougane Barra and Glastonbury that

make the site custodians willing to disregard and dispose of what is essentially a

whole context of ritual deposition?

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Finn (1997), examining how Chaco Canyon, a prehistoric complex in the Southwest

US, has become a focus for New Age ceremony and deposition, questions whether

the contemporary ritual objects deposited at the site should be considered ‘‘junk’ or

archaeological objects of meaning and value’ (1997: 169). LoPiccolo, curator of the

site, viewed them as the latter, claiming that these modern-day deposits ‘were of

value as signifiers of continued use of the Chaco Canyon site’ (Finn 1997: 169).

Believing it to be his responsibility to collect these objects for the future

archaeological record, rather than simply disposing of them, LoPiccolo catalogued

them, entering their details into a database. Perhaps the custodians of coin-tree sites

could consider similar management strategies, cataloguing any removed objects for

the benefit of future archaeologists and ethnographers. Having discussed this issue

with John Coles, he has decided to save and store any items he removes (pers.

comm. 03/12/2013).

In cases whereby custodians do not wish to discourage the custom overall but aim to

prevent widespread dissemination, such as some National Trust rangers (see above),

other methods may be more effective. For example, preventative measures are being

considered at Dovedale (Appendix 2.18), but only with regards to coin insertion into

living trees (pers. comm. Simon Nicholas, Ranger, 22/05/2012). Logs, stumps, and

wooden posts, on the other hand, are freely available for the custom, and – unlike at

Gougane Barra, where, despite the custodians’ best efforts, seven of the eight coin-

trees are living trees – at Dovedale this figure is only one of 14. This demonstrates

the benefit of ensuring that alternative ‘canvases’ are available for the custom’s

participants; if a site’s managers do not wish living trees to be utilised, they should

provide logs or stumps for the practice, which would shift the (potentially

destructive) ritual attention away from living trees.

Timothy and Boyd (2003) discuss similar heritage management strategies

undertaken at sites such as Chartres Cathedral and Versailles, whereby the principle

of dispersion is adopted. In order to alleviate the physical pressures on one site,

management direct tourists’ attention to an alternative area through the use of

brochures and information boards, thus dispersing the concentration of visitors

(2003: 168). A similar approach has been adopted at the Roman baths at Bath;

however, it is not visitors who are redirected but their deposits. Originally visitors

deposited coins in the sacred spring but, according to Verity Anthony, Collections

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Assistant: ‘In order to preserve the site, we request that people deposit coins in a

designated bath…as this is a manageable space which can be monitored’ (pers.

comm. 04/12/2013).

Perhaps such measures should be adopted at coin-tree sites where living trees

predominate, such as Loxley (Appendix 2.28), Cragside Estate (Appendix 2.17), and

Gougane Barra (Appendix 2.21). Policies of strategic dissemination could be

encouraged and employed; logs could be tactically placed – and referred to in

brochures or pinpointed on maps – in order to entice visitors’ attention away from a

ritually-employed living tree and to bear the brunt of the custom instead. Perhaps, as

at Bath, signs could be erected requesting that visitors insert their deposits into

particular trees.

If living trees are threatened, therefore, alternatives should be provided: logs and

stumps, which could act as deflectors. This should not be difficult to ensure,

following the Forestry Commission’s 2002 guide advocating that deadwood be left

in situ (detailed in Chapter 4). The relative certainty of the enduring presence of logs

and stumps along Britain’s popular rural footpaths, therefore, signifies that the tree

component of this custom will continue to be accessible, for the foreseeable future at

least. However, what of the other key component of the coin-tree: the coin?

13 – DE-COINING THE COIN-TREE

Today, coins are even more ubiquitous in the British Isles than trees are. It was

postulated in Chapter 4 that coins grew to dominate the ritual-deposition arena in the

British Isles because of their prevalence; while most people who stumble across a

coin-tree will not be carrying rags or nails, their pockets or purses will probably

contain some loose change, making coins a far more convenient deposit. However,

while coins may boast a c.2000 year history in Britain (Hobbs 1996: 9), their future

accessibility is likely to be far more modest.

Copper coins have already lost much of their value, and the realm of economics is

rife with predictions that, as the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and

Development (OECD) posit, ‘money’s destiny is to become digital’ (2002: 7). The

OECD predicts that digital money is diffusing at such a rapid rate, physical cash will

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inevitably become marginalised in market transactions (2002: 8). The Payments

Council of the UK are making similar claims, noting the expensive and

environmentally costly process of distributing hard cash, together with the rise of

electronic spending – debit cards, the Internet, mobile payments – as core reasons for

why, by 2015, hard cash will make up less than half of UK monetary transactions

(2010: 13-14).

For the purpose of his research, economist Wolman (2012) eschewed physical

money for 12 months and reportedly encountered very few difficulties, illustrating a

departing dependence on hard cash and the advent of ‘immaterial money’ (Schlichter

2011: 2), which is subsequently leading to what Palley terms the ‘e-money

revolution’ (2001/2002). The Payments Council predict that cash is unlikely to

disappear entirely, but that by 2050 using physical money for market transactions

may have become a minority activity (2010: 14); in all likelihood, therefore, over the

next few decades coins will become increasingly marginalised. This may mean that

in 30-40 years, the chances of a person carrying loose change may be as slim as the

chances of them carrying nails or rags; they will subsequently be unable to

contribute a coin to a coin-tree if they happen to come across one.

Obviously the custom of the coin-tree cannot be sustained in the absence of coins –

however, this may not mark the demise of the intangible cultural heritage. As has

been illustrated frequently throughout this thesis, a custom can be adapted; as

Wolman asks, ‘[i]f we close the book on pennies…What will people throw into

wishing wells?’ (2012: viii). The answer: something else.

The safeguarding of intangible cultural heritage should not consist of freezing the

conditions of a custom (Kurin 2004: 74; van Zanten 2004: 41; Penrose 2007: 10). In

fact, it often necessitates the acceptance that the custom will change; in the ICHC,

UNESCO recognises that intangible cultural heritage ‘is constantly recreated by

communities and groups in response to their environment’ (2003: 2.1); it is not a

permanent fixture, but is fluid and malleable. Safeguarding efforts should be more

concerned with encouraging creation and recreation rather than attempting to

preserve traditions which, if not given the freedom to change, will become stagnant

and alienated from their living socio-cultural environments (Nas 2002: 139-140;

Amselle 2004: 89).

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It is the very mutable nature of intangible cultural heritage which makes it far more

resilient than the tangible heritage (Skounti 2009: 73); while a coin-tree may decay,

the custom which surrounds it will sustain itself through its propensity for

adaptation. If, in the future, coins are no longer widely carried, then participants will

employ other objects as deposits; just as coins replaced rags and nails in this practice

because they became the more convenient offering (see Chapter 4), another category

of objects will, in turn, be adopted as substitutes for coins. However, without the

precognitive powers to know what objects will commonly occupy the pockets of the

average 22nd

-century individual, it cannot be predicted what form these substitute

deposits will take, but they will likely be small, low in economic value, and

relatively disposable. Whatever objects are adopted as replacements, once again the

custom will re-acclimatise itself, demonstrating that its indomitability does not stem

from any preservation attempts, but from its ability to conform to a changing

environment.

In conclusion, while little can be done to preserve the tangible cultural heritage of

the coin-trees, perhaps little should be done to preserve the intangible heritage, rather

than risk ossifying the custom. Perhaps action should be taken to discourage active

suppression of the custom, which includes removing the coin-trees (unless they pose

a danger), erecting enclosures which deny access, and any measures which deter

participation. In cases where custodians are anxious for the health of their living

trees, policies of strategic dissemination – tactical placement of logs, for example –

could be employed, which may ensure the custom persists with little threat to living

trees. However, nothing can be done to secure the future wide-accessibility of coins,

and although the intangible cultural heritage of the coin-tree may not diminish, it will

inevitably change. Many years from now the coin-tree will have become a distant,

mysterious ancestor of the custom’s most recent incarnation – whatever that may

turn out to be.

14 – CATALOGUING COIN-TREES

The acceptance that the structures of the coin-trees will eventually be lost and the

custom will inevitably change incites the need to record the practice. The ICHC lists

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identification and documentation as the first two measures taken to ensure the

viability of intangible cultural heritage (UNESCO 2003: 2.3). These, therefore,

should perhaps be the primary two measures taken to ensure the preservation of the

coin-tree custom. Strategies which include the cataloguing of coin-trees and

recording details of the custom should be implemented.

However, due to the ambiguous nature of coin-trees, no leading heritage organisation

in Britain will accept responsibility for these structures (see above), nor will they

foster collaboration between the different coin-tree custodians. This thesis, therefore,

is the first attempt at identification and documentation; it offers the initial creation of

a catalogue and employs ethnographic methodologies in recording details of the

custom. However, this thesis is intended only as a starting point for these strategies;

more work on a larger scale will need to be undertaken in order to adequately

identify, document, and disseminate understanding of the coin-tree custom. Coin-tree

custodians have, for example, exhibited a desire to view a catalogue of coin-tree

sites. Most rangers and wardens I have corresponded with, along with many

members of the public, have questioned me about other coin-trees (see Greg

Robinson above), and some have asked specifically to see my list of sites. This

demonstrates a demand for access to a catalogue of coin-trees.

However, few PhD theses are widely disseminated amongst the public. Perhaps,

therefore, an alternative, more accessible medium should be employed, and in

modern times there is not a more effective method of disseminating information than

the Internet (Karp 2004). Interview participants have apparently researched the

custom of the coin-tree out of curiosity on the Internet, and it is clear by reading

personal blogs and forum threads that many individuals have turned to the Internet as

an information resource for this custom (see Chapter 4). However, such information

would be far more accessible if it was located in one place: on a single website

dedicated to a catalogue of coin-trees.

Using the online Irish Heritage Tree Database (2012) as a template, this digital

catalogue could offer a summary of the history of the coin-tree custom, together with

individual entries for each tree. These index records could include information

regarding the trees’ locations, species, and histories, accompanied by photographs,

and an entry form could be made available for any readers aware of coin-trees not

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included in the catalogue. Made accessible to the public, this inventory would not be

a static archive but a growing compendium, and it would certainly address the first

two UNESCO measures of ‘identification’ and ‘documentation’, as well as

‘research’, ‘promotion’, and ‘transmission’ (UNESCO 2003: 2.3). It would also, to

an extent, address the matter of ‘preservation’ through digital curatorship; there may

be no simple solution for preserving these structures physically, but they can be

preserved digitally.

Additionally, a centralised participatory coin-tree website would provide a forum for

a wide range of people to express their views of the coin-tree custom and on matters

of heritage, with such communicative technologies now enabling the accumulation

of a more inclusive level of public opinion (Schofield et al. 2012: 304).

Consideration, however, would be required regarding whether the publication of all

coin-tree locations would pose a risk to the coin-trees themselves, and whether this

risk outweighed the benefits of identification, documentation, digital preservation,

and public collaboration.

15 – THE ARDMADDY WISHING-TREE PROJECT, SCOTLAND

The above strategies were all employed at the site of the Ardmaddy coin-tree

(Appendices 2.9 & 5). The primary tree at Ardmaddy is heavily decayed and

fragmented, and will probably only survive in its current state for a limited number

of years. This is a concern for some heritage professionals in the region (see Sharon

Webb’s statement above), and, acting on this concern, in 2013 I applied to the

Heritage Lottery Fund for a grant to undertake the ‘Ardmaddy Wishing-Tree

Project’.

For my (successful) application, I recommended that physical conservation of the

coin-tree would not only prove impractical, but that it would remove it from its

socio-cultural context. I advocated instead the production of a photographic record of

the tree, the undertaking of a small-scale archaeological excavation at the site, and

the creation of an interpretive leaflet, made available for visitors to Ardmaddy

Castle. I also recommended the compilation of an ethnographic record, with a series

of public lectures delivered throughout Argyll to not only promote and transmit the

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research, but also for the researcher – myself – to engage with local residents and

gather their oral histories concerning the site of the coin-tree.

During the excavation, further transmission of the custom was made via an online

blog (Houlbrook 2013b) which describes the tree and details the excavation, while

an interview with The Oban Times (Patterson 2013: 2) disseminated the research to a

wider audience. Additionally, following the excavation I delivered public lectures

summarising the project and had a peer-reviewed entry published on Berkeley

University’s archaeology group blog, Then Dig, entitled ‘Sanctifying our Sites: Self-

reflection on an archaeological dig’ (Houlbrook 2013c). This entry (reproduced in

Appendix 6) considers the recontextualising agency of archaeology, focusing on how

perceptions of a coin-tree are altered when it is declared an archaeological site.

Further fostering accessibility, the excavation report will be offered to the

Archaeology Data Service, which will preserve the data in digital form and make it

publically available.

Without altering the coin-tree itself, the ‘Ardmaddy Wishing-Tree Project’

successfully addressed most of the measures outlined by the ICHC for the

safeguarding of intangible cultural heritage: identification, documentation, research,

promotion, and transmission (UNESCO 2003: 2.3). Again, however, this was only a

small-scale project, and is intended as a starting point with the aim that leading

heritage organisations will recognise the need for, and benefit of, preserving the

intangible cultural heritage of coin-trees. That the Heritage Lottery Fund agreed to

fund the project is hopefully indicative of a turning point in the heritage sector’s

perceptions and treatment of coin-trees within the British Isles. And the excavation

at the site of the ‘Ardmaddy Wishing-Tree’ leads onto Part Two of this chapter: the

coin-tree as a future archaeological site.

PART 2: RECONSTRUCTING THE COIN-TREE

1 – INTRODUCTION

I end this thesis with a suppositional vignette. Imagine that the year is 2200 and

suspend your disbelief enough to assume that the study of archaeology in the British

Isles has changed little over the intervening centuries. Obviously technologies have

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advanced and various movements in archaeological theory will have risen and fallen

with their usual transience. Post-processualism will have been ousted by Post-post-

processualism, and future archaeologists will no doubt view 21st-century

methodologies with the same sanctimonious disapproval with which we view 19th

-

century methodologies. However, let us believe that the fundamental principles of

archaeology remain the same; that people are still interested in material history; and

that British universities still house and fund departments of archaeology – which,

given the current economic climate, may unfortunately prove the most difficult

supposition to believe.

So the year is 2200, coins have become marginalised, and the custom of inserting

coins into trees has ebbed and been replaced by other customs. There are, therefore,

no active coin-trees remaining. However, a 21st-century coin-tree site has been

discovered and the future archaeologist has been called upon to excavate the site and

to interpret the evidence. Supposing that no measures are put in place to actively

conserve the coin-tree structures, what would a coin-tree and its surrounding

environment proffer as an archaeological site? How would a future archaeologist

analyse and interpret the material evidence if they had no prior knowledge of the

coin-tree custom? Drawing on data from the excavation at the Ardmaddy coin-tree

(Appendix 5), it is the aim of this section to answer these questions. First and

foremost, however, is the question of whether there would even be material evidence

remaining.

2 – THE FUTURE ARCHAEOLOGICAL SITE: THE TREE

Some coin-trees will last longer than others. This is a simple fact based on current

age, physical condition, species, location, and density of coinage. Obviously those

which are living trees will have a longer life expectancy than logs, stumps or

fragments, but whether they will still be standing in 2200 is largely dependent upon

current age and species. The Douglas fir at Cragside Estate (Appendix 2.17), for

example, will in all likelihood survive to see the 23rd

century; despite its vast size

and estimated age of 150 years, it is still only a ‘teenager’, to use National Trust

Ranger Sue Turnbull’s expression (pers. comm. 08/09/2012).

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Appendix 2.6 details the life-expectancies of trees according to species, and the long

life-expectancies of oak, sycamore, Scot’s pine, holly, and lime may indicate that

trees at Clonenagh, Gougane Barra, Isle Maree, Marbury Park, and High Force may

also still be standing by 2200. However, this is certainly not an exact science;

storms, diseases, and human intervention may all prematurely shorten a tree’s

expected life-span. Also, living trees only account for 43 (18%) of the 245 coin-trees

catalogued. The most common form of coin-tree is the log, accounting for 98 (40%),

and the survival of (non-living) wood over long periods of time is rare (Taylor 1981;

Brunning and Watson 2010). However, although the decomposition of the coin-trees

is inevitable, it cannot be predicted with any certainty how long the process will take,

as so many variables influence the rate of decay.

Size is one significant variable; the larger the log, the longer it will last (Farmer

1972: 8; Harmon et al. 1986: 181). The species of a tree can also determine how

susceptible it is to rot and decay (Abbott and Crossley 1982; Harmon and Hua 1991:

605; Schowalter et al. 1992: 374). Indeed, studies conducted by Mattson et al. (1987)

suggest that the density loss of logs, caused by decay, varied by more than 10-fold

among tree species. However, a study by Swift et al. (1976) demonstrates that weight

loss varied more considerably between individual branches than they did, overall,

between species.

Numerous factors cause this variety. A higher percentage of heartwood in the bole

causes slower rates of decay (Harmon and Hua 1991: 605). Logs in plots with south

and east aspects have a higher rate of decay than those with west aspects (Mattson et

al. 1987). Certain organisms will cause decay at a faster rate than others (Yin 1999:

81-82). Branches and boles on the ground have a faster rate of decay than those off

the ground (Mattson et al. 1987). This last point may account for how the primary

Isle Maree coin-tree (Fig. 6) (Appendix 2.26), supported by stakes, has survived

since the 19th

century, and may indicate that the primary coin-trees of Padley Gorge

(PG1) (Appendix 2.32) and St. Nectan’s Glen (SNG1) (Appendix 2.36) (Figs. 135-

136), propped up against a tree and a rock-face, may outlast their neighbouring coin-

trees (PG2 & SNG2) (Figs. 137-138), which are fully grounded.

However, the quantity of coins may also determine the speed of decay. Boles with

damaged or absent barks – which can be caused by the insertion of many coins – will

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decay far more rapidly than boles with their barks intact (pers. comm. Sam Sportun,

Collections Care Manager and Senior Conservator, Manchester Museum,

30/01/2013). Heavily coined coin-trees, therefore (such as IG3, AF1, and BA5) may

decompose at a faster rate than those with fewer coins. This may balance the rates of

decay between PG1 and PG2 at Padley Gorge (Figs. 135 & 137); while PG1,

propped up from the ground, contains 1675 coins, its grounded counterpart contains

only 91 and its bark is subsequently far more intact. They may, therefore, decay at

relatively similar rates, and the same may apply to the coin-trees of St. Nectan’s

Glen.

However, as situational and unpredictable as the rates of decay are, it appears

inevitable that the majority of coin-trees will have deteriorated by 2200. However,

not all. Although Brunning and Watson write of the ‘rarity of survival’ of wood, they

concede that ‘wood does survive in many places, some of which may be quite

unexpected’ (2010: 3). If, for example, a coin-tree had become waterlogged in the

intervening decades between now and 2200, then it may still survive intact. For

example, at Malham (Appendix 2.30), MH1 runs directly over Gordale Beck, resting

in places on the riverbed (Fig. 139), and the cluster of FG1-FG4 at Fairy Glen

(Appendix 2.19) are hanging over or resting in the pool of water at the foot of the

Fairy Glen waterfall (Fig. 140). At St. Nectan’s Glen (Appendix 2.36), SNG1 (Fig.

136) is propped up above a pool at the bottom of the waterfall; over time, it is likely

that it will fall and become partly submerged by the water. In fact, the vast majority

of coin-trees are located within close proximity to bodies of water, some of which

may have become submerged by 2200.

If a coin-tree does become waterlogged then it may be preserved for many years

because normal biological decay is arrested in waterlogged environments. Without a

supply of oxygen, the activity of fungi and bacteria is limited, and while, over time,

cellulose is lost from the cell structure of the wood, it can be replaced by water

which would maintain the structure of a coin-tree (Brunning and Watson 2010: 22).

However, a coin-tree is not just a wooden artefact. It is the sum of its constituents:

both tree and coins, and subsequently, as posited above, its conservation proves all

the more exacting; while PEG solutions could be employed to preserve a

waterlogged coin-tree, it would corrode the coins.

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Additionally, although the majority of coin-trees are within close proximity to water,

it is often in the form of waterfalls and relatively fast-flowing rivers; the chances of

the future archaeologist recovering a fully intact waterlogged coin-tree are, therefore,

minimal. It is more likely that she will find sites closely resembling the Ardmaddy

coin-tree site, at which an excavation was undertaken in September 2013 (Appendix

5). Here, a hawthorn roughly a century old has died, fallen, and begun to fragment,

producing a scattering of both woody debris and coins on and beneath the ground

within its vicinity. As this coin-tree further decays, it will continue to lose its coins

until there is only a scattering of woody debris and coins on and beneath the ground.

By 2200, therefore, there may be no coin-trees left at all, only coins.

3 – THE FUTURE ARCHAEOLOGICAL SITE: THE COIN

It is unlikely that any intact coin-trees will remain for the future archaeologist to

analyse and interpret. Once the coin-tree logs and stumps have begun to decay, the

coins begin to loosen and fall (Fig. 141). At Isle Maree (Appendix 2.26), this has

already occurred; 390 coins were found on the ground within the cluster of coin-trees

(Fig. 142), and no doubt far more would be unearthed if a full excavation of the

island was undertaken.

Even the modern-day coin-trees have begun to lose their coins; Bolton Abbey’s

BA1-BA3 (Figs. 122-123), for example, fragment on touch, losing both chunks of

wood and coins, and it will probably not be long before the coins of other

contemporary – but heavily decayed – coin-trees, such as HF3 (Fig. 124), PM8 (Fig.

143), HC2, MH2, and MH19 begin to loosen and fall out. By 2200, therefore, once

the logs and stumps have decayed, there may be nothing left of the coin-trees bar

clusters of coins. Some may still be on ground-level, but following two centuries of

growth, the surrounding vegetation will no doubt have covered the majority of coins,

and many will be buried beneath layers of soil. However, the future archaeologist

may have acquired permission to excavate; to dig and see what remains to be

unearthed. If so, what would she find?

She may find nothing. Coins which have fallen from a coin-tree will not necessarily

remain at that site; natural processes, such as wind displacement and animal

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foraging, may cause dislocation. Another form of ‘animal foraging’ may also be

responsible for displacement: human thievery. In the cases of High Force and

Clonenagh, for instance, described earlier in this chapter, the primary coin-trees

became so badly decayed that visitors were able to take the vast majority of the

coins, leaving only woody debris in their wake. In such a case, the archaeologist’s

search may yield nothing at all.

If, however, a coin-tree site is not particularly accessible to visitors – such as Isle

Maree – or if a coin-tree site is fortunate enough to attract only visitors who

respectfully leave the coins in situ, then the future archaeologist’s excavation may

prove to be more fruitful. She may unearth large quantities of coins scattered within

close proximity of where the coin-tree(s) once stood. The small-scale excavation at

Ardmaddy, for example, recovered a total of 703 small finds, 691 of which were

coins. These were all unearthed within 2m of the primary coin-tree in six small

(1mx1m or smaller) test pits (Appendices 5.2 & 5.3); if a fuller excavation had been

undertaken, it is likely that an even larger volume of coins would have been

uncovered. The future archaeologist may achieve a similarly fruitful excavation at

other coin-tree sites, recovering hundreds, possibly thousands, of coins.

The evidence of the coins in isolation, with the trees having decayed and

disappeared, may seem scanty and insufficient but archaeologists are nothing if not

thrifty: the future archaeologist has been taught to make a little evidence go a long

way. The question which invariably follows, therefore, is how she would analyse and

interpret the material evidence most likely left by the coin-tree: the coins themselves.

In order to answer this question, comparisons will be drawn with how contemporary

archaeologists have interpreted the remains of an equally obscure site: the Hallaton

Hoard (East Leicestershire). Discovered in 2000 and excavated by the University of

Leicester Archaeology Unit (ULAS), this site, situated on a hilltop in Hallaton,

southeast Leicestershire, has yielded the largest assemblage of Iron Age coins

recovered under controlled archaeological conditions in Britain, offering what Leins

claims to be ‘an unprecedented opportunity to study a large group of coins in their

original depositional context’ (2011: 39).

Over 5000 Iron Age and Roman Republican gold and silver coins were recovered,

along with a Roman iron cavalry helmet (Williams 2003; Leins 2007, 2011). The

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coins appear to have been deliberately buried in at least 15 separate hoards and,

although there is no evidence of a building having occupied the site, there is

indication of an enclosure or boundary. The additional presence of pig, sheep, and

cattle bone deposits have led archaeologists to propose that the site was an open-air

gathering place with possible ceremonial significance (Priest et al. 2003: 359-360;

Score 2006: 206; Leins 2007: 39; Score 2011: 152-164).

The archaeologists interpreting the finds at the Hallaton Hoard were able to estimate

a relatively short time-period of deposition: late pre-conquest and/or the early

Roman period (Leins 2007: 25-26; Leins 2011), the majority of the coins having

been issued roughly between AD20-50. For the deduction of a time-frame, they used

the testimony of the coins, which are particularly valuable finds for the archaeologist

precisely because of this ability to offer a relatively accurate means of dating

(Betlyon 1985: 163). Would an excavated coin-tree site proffer similar dating

evidence?

4 – DATING THE SITE

The future archaeologist may uncover a large number of coins, but what state would

she find them in? Coins may be made of relatively durable material – which is why

they are so often found preserved in archaeological contexts – but they are certainly

not impervious to the degrading processes that accompany exposure over long

periods of time. By 2200, the coins will have undergone two centuries of corrosion,

having been exposed to wind-borne particle abrasion, rain, and deteriorating

chemical processes. Although copper – which is the primary material of

contemporary British coins minted prior to 1992, and the coating of one penny and

two pence pieces since then (see below) – is only moderately susceptible to attack by

corrosion in comparison with other metals (Shreir et al. 1963: 4.41-44; Goffer 1980:

256), it is still susceptible.

An unprotected surface of copper will likely grow dull within just a few weeks of

exposure, a coating forming through a chemical reaction between the metal and

components of the atmosphere, such as oxygen, carbon dioxide, and water (Goffer

1980: 252). Within a few years, the copper surface will begin to show signs of

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verdigris (Fig. 144), the green compound to which copper is converted following

over-exposure to the atmosphere (Sharpe 2003: 419). Additionally, coins inserted

into coin-trees are even more susceptible to corrosion because of their physical

contact with the trees. Wood is harmful to metal, the substances it contains, such as

water and acetic acid, often accelerating the corrosive process of any metal object in

contact with it (Farmer 1962; Anonymous 1979: 2; Umney 1992).

The rates of corrosion will be dependent upon the metallic compositions of the coins

themselves. While copper and its alloys are only moderately susceptible to acetic

acid, steel is more vulnerable (Shreir et al. 1963: 3.3; Anonymous 1979: 5), and this

may result in a higher rate of corrosion in more recent coins. In 1992, in response to

the increase in the world-market price of metals, the Royal Mint altered the

composition of one penny and two pence pieces from bronze (97% copper, 2.5%

zinc, 0.5% tin) to copper-plated steel (Royal Mint, nd.). One penny and two pence

pieces minted after 1992, therefore, are likely to corrode at a faster rate than coins

minted before. Figure 145, for example, shows three coins inserted into IG3 which

are highly corroded, their surfaces having flaked away. Although their damaged

states prevented accurate dating, a ‘20’ is legible on the two pence piece on the right,

indicating that it was minted after 1992.

Indeed, the 691 coins recovered at the Ardmaddy excavation reveal an interesting

correlation between the date of a coin and its level of corrosion. As outlined in

Chapter 3, each coin was assigned a corrosion level ranging from 1-4, with level 4

coins being the most heavily corroded (Appendix 5.10). As Graph 3 (Appendix 5.10)

demonstrates, correlating these levels with the dates of the coins illustrated that the

newer the coin, the more likely it is to suffer from high levels of corrosion. All pre-

decimal coins were classed as level 2, and high volumes of level 3 or 4 coins were

not recorded until 1993, the number spiking for those coins issued in 2000.

Evidently, therefore, it is not the age of the coin which will determine its physical

state when the future archaeologist uncovers it, but its metallic composition.

The corrosive material of the wood and over-exposure to the atmosphere may result

in high levels of corrosion, but it is unlikely that the coins will remain exposed to the

atmosphere and the wood of the tree for extended periods of time. As explored

above, the coins will probably fall from the trees as the wood decays, and will

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eventually become buried. Studies have shown that burial in soil produces even

faster rates of corrosion than exposure to the atmosphere because of chemical

deterioration caused by ‘bronze disease’ (Goffer 1980: 252-253; Betlyon 1985: 164;

Ganorkar et al. 1988).

However, for the coins recovered during the Ardmaddy excavation, this has not

proven to be the case. As Graph 4 (Appendix 5.10) demonstrates, there appears to be

little correlation between the level of corrosion of the coins and their depths of

burial. It is, as Scott asserts in his study of copper and bronze artefacts, nigh on

impossible to predict the rates of corrosion of a buried object (2002: 35ff). The

factors influencing corrosion rates are numerous and complex, including the soil

type, moisture content, pH level, chloride-ion and calcium content, groundwater

content, size and chemical composition of the specimen, bacterial activity, the

presence of stones and tree roots, depth of burial, and bulk density, to name only

some (Shreir et al. 1963; Scott 2002).

The difficulties in predicting corrosion rates, however, make it no less probable that

many of the coins at these sites will be suffering from some form of corrosion by the

time the future archaeologist excavates them, and many may be deemed illegible.

The designs and writing on the coins may have devolved, some having disappeared

altogether, and the copper surfaces may have become bubbled, flaked or fractured

(Walker 1976: 329), as is evidenced by the number of coins already having

succumbed to corrosive processes (Figs. 145-146). However, as the data gathered

from the Ardmaddy excavation demonstrates, even coins suffering from high levels

of corrosion can proffer invaluable information: of the 691 coins uncovered, 468

were intact enough to reveal their years of issue, with only 133 proving too worn or

corroded to provide this information (Appendix 5.7).

The years of issue have been decipherable on older coins as well as new. The year

1875 was identifiable on a one penny at Isle Maree; by the time I had dated this coin

it had been in existence for 137 years, whilst pennies dating to 1914, 1921, 1922, and

1927 were identified during the Ardmaddy excavation, with other coins also dating

to the 1930s, 1940s, and 1960s. Even coins which are too worn or corroded to yield a

specific year of issue can still proffer some dating evidence utilising elements such

as size and outlines of design (Walker 1976: 329).

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I was, for example, able to identify eight highly worn coins at Ardmaddy as pre-

decimal because of their designs and sizes: seven coins were identified as pre-

decimal one pennies because their diameters were within the 30-31mm range and the

vague outlines of Britannia or the name ‘GEORGE’ could be discerned on some,

whilst another was identified as a pre-decimal halfpenny because of its diameter of

25mm. Two other coins were identified as decimal halfpennies (issued between

1971-1983) due to their diameters of 17mm. The future archaeologist may likewise

employ size and design in methods of identification.

A more specific method of dating would be the analysis of the elemental

composition of the coins. There are a number of non-destructive evaluation

techniques which have been employed by archaeologists in their analysis of coins

(Al-Saa’d 1999; Klockenkämper and Hasler 1999; Delrue 2007; Bendall et al. 2009;

Kirfel et al. 2011). With these techniques improving every year – Epstein et al.’s

2010 study of 1st-century Judean coins, for example, demonstrates that X-ray

fluorescence and lead isotope analysis could be employed to date even highly

corroded coins – it is not unreasonable to assume that the future archaeologist would

have the technology at her disposal to analyse the compositions of her excavated

coins. This would certainly narrow the possible time-frame of deposition.

For example, the difference in the compositions of one penny and two pence pieces

minted before and after 1992 – a shift from bronze to copper-plated steel (see above)

– may provide the future archaeologist with a method for determining which coins

were minted prior to 1992 and which were issued after. The same methods of

analysis could be employed for five and 10 pence coins, which were cupronickel

until January 2012, and have since been nickel-plated steel (Royal Mint, nd.).

Likewise, if the elemental components of coins are altered again in the future, there

is potential for a more accurate terminus ante quem.

5 – ISSUES WITH DATING

There are, however, problems with utilising coins to determine time-frames of

deposition, for it should not be assumed that the coins excavated at a site represent

every coin ever deposited there. The Ardmaddy excavation, for example, flagged a

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discrepancy between the material data of the coins and the ethnographic evidence.

As noted above, the Ardmaddy excavation yielded a number of pre-decimal coins:

17 dated as pre-decimal and eight identified as pre-decimal through size and design.

The vast majority of the coins, however, were decimal; the most common year of

issue was 1971, but as Graph 1 (Appendix 5.7) illustrates, the decade which

produced the highest quantity of deposited coins was the 1990s. The large volume

issued in the 2000s also demonstrates that the custom of coin deposition did not

cease with the fall of the tree. These results imply that the custom of coin-insertion at

Ardmaddy became popular during the 1970s and escalated from there.

However, the ethnographic evidence suggests that the custom was well-established

at this site far earlier. One woman who spoke to me after I presented a public lecture

at Kilmartin House Museum assured me that her mother, who walked along the

Degnish-to-Ardmaddy track quite frequently during the 1920s, described the tree as

being prolifically coined by that time (pers. comm. 14/10/2013). Additionally, the

tree’s custodian, Charles Struthers, believes that the custom was popular in the first

half of the 20th

century, recalling how numerous the coins had been when he had

inserted his own as a child during the 1950s (pers. comm. 21/12/2011). Certainly the

custom had to have been well-established by the 1970s at least, due to the coin-tree’s

inclusion on an Ordnance Survey map published in 1978, labelled ‘Wishing Tree’

(Fig. 147).

With only 25 coins uncovered during the excavation which pre-date 1971, the

empirical evidence does not agree with this chronology. It is possible that oral

tradition and local memory have projected greater antiquity onto this coin-tree than

is accurate (see Chapter 6), but the coin-tree’s presence on the OS map from the

1970s certainly indicates that it was well-established by then. As Anne Patrick,

Research Coordinator, Ordnance Survey, said: ‘Single named trees are shown [on

maps] when they are prominent landmarks’ (pers. comm. 03/10/2013).

While the dates of the coins imply that deposition at Ardmaddy became prominent

during the 1970s, alternative evidence indicates an earlier terminus ante quem for

this custom. This suggests that the coins recovered only represent a sample of those

initially inserted into the coin-tree. Perhaps a greater number of older coins were

removed from the site, by either natural or human means, or are buried at different

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distances from the tree, or indeed at greater depths than my small-scale excavation

had opportunity to uncover. This indicates therefore that unless the future

archaeologist can undertake a full-scale excavation and is confident that she has

uncovered all – or at least the vast majority – of coins on site, the coins should not be

used to establish a firm time-frame of deposition, but only an approximate one.

6 – INTERPRETING THE COIN-TREE SITE AS A ‘HOARD’

Having established a rough time-frame, the next task for the future archaeologist will

be interpretation. Despite nearly two millennia separating their creations, the East

Leicestershire hoard and the coin-trees will leave fairly similar remains: buried

coins. At coin-tree sites, these coins are viewed out of context; the future

archaeologist will not know that they were once embedded into trees. They may,

therefore, designate the collection of coins a ‘hoard’, defined simply by Osborne as a

‘quantity of similar items being found together’ (2004: 5). Chapman observes, rather

tongue-in-cheek, that a mere two similar items discovered together is the ‘minimum

necessary to establish the presence of a hoard’ (2000: 112), and – subject to them not

having been removed through human intervention – there will probably be more than

two coins uncovered at coin-tree sites.

The remaining coins, therefore, will likely be labelled a ‘coin hoard’. However, will

the future archaeologist be able to identify that these coins were not deliberately

buried? The distribution of the coins may yield the relevant information. At Hallaton,

the coins have been divided into two groups: 3409 were from stratified

archaeological deposits – possibly originally placed in bags and buried in distinct

clusters (Score 2006: 198) – and the remaining 1883 coins lacked stratified contexts;

they were found scattered.

Although the coins uncovered during the Ardmaddy excavation were not buried in

distinct clusters, they collectively yielded evidence for a single stratified

archaeological deposit; as the site plans (Appendix 5.6) clearly indicate, closer

proximity to the coin-tree produces higher concentrations of coins. The coin-tree is

at the nexus of coin distribution. In pits 1, 2, 4, and 5 greater volumes of coins were

excavated along the edges of the pits closest to the coin-tree. Pit 3, judging by the

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high volume of woody debris, probably contained a large limb of the coin-tree which

decayed, leaving a significantly high quantity of densely distributed coins throughout

the pit. This indicates that, following full decay of the coin-tree, the area in which it

now lies will yield a similarly high and densely concentrated volume of coins, and

finds will become sparser the further from this area the future archaeologist

excavates. She may identify that the coins’ distribution suggests a clear nexus; an

epicentre of coin deposition, and subsequently hypothesise that there was a central

focus around which they were deposited.

Without the tree, however, she will not know what this central focus consisted of.

The coins will offer some evidence for this. As they will probably not be recovered

in distinct clusters, their distribution will suggest that they were not buried by their

depositors, but that their burial was more likely the product of time and natural

processes. However, if not buried, then how were they deposited?

Bradley, writing of prehistoric hoards, describes how many offerings were deposited

in such a fashion so as to be irredeemable; deposits could either be physically

damaged – thus rendering their economic value moot – or deposited in a location

from which they could not be recovered (1990: 138) (see Chapter 4). Insoll views

this as a form of ‘sacrifice’, evinced in the archaeological record by a destructive

element (2011: 151), i.e. bending and physical damage. This ritual ‘no-returns’

policy is clearly evident in the coin-tree custom, which involves inserting coins as

securely as possible to prevent removal (see Chapter 5). Additionally, 228 (33%) of

the 691 coins uncovered during the Ardmaddy excavation exhibited signs of damage

(Fig. 148) (Appendix 5.11); of these, 77 were crooked and bent. In the majority of

coin-trees, a large quantity of coins are similarly bent (Fig. 149).

The future archaeologist, following the work of Bradley (1990) and Insoll (2011),

may correctly assume that these coins were intended as irredeemable deposits.

However, she may also over-interpret the evidence. For example, having spoken to

participants of this custom who have folded their coins over during insertion, it is

clear that in most cases the process of bending is incidental rather than integral to the

custom. At Dovedale, three different participants bent their coins over in order to

distinguish them from the surrounding coins, while other participants have bent

theirs in order to make them more secure.

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The future archaeologist, however, does not know that these coins were inserted into

a tree, and may therefore (over-)interpret the crooked states of the coins as evidence

that their physical damage was a central component of the custom, done deliberately

in order to (possibly ritually) demonetise the coins (see Chapter 4 for information

regarding the ritual bending of objects). If the future archaeologist has read up on her

folklore then she may further over-interpret the bent coins, incorrectly identifying

them as similar to the bowed and crooked coins employed for healing and luck

throughout the medieval and early modern periods (see Chapter 4).

However, the future archaeologist may also notice that the edges of many of the

coins – both bent and not – are abraded and chipped, probably as a result of impact.

Of the 77 bent and crooked coins uncovered during the Ardmaddy excavation, 67 of

these exhibited damaged edges, while a further 151 coins which were not

bent/crooked showed similar signs of damage through percussion along their edges

(Appendix 5.11). Considered in light of the coins’ abraded edges, therefore, the

future archaeologist may conclude that any damage to the coins was the result of

them having been hammered into something. Indeed, the rocks often employed as

tools of percussion may still be evident.

Although there were no obvious tools of percussion discovered during the Ardmaddy

excavation, rocks have been identified at many coin-tree sites which have probably

been employed as ‘hammer-rocks’. At Aira Force (Appendix 2.7), for example, there

were four possible tools of percussion, utilised by participants to hammer their coins

into AF1 (Fig. 150). These rocks included a square piece of slate (measuring

1.5x10x10cm), a jagged piece of slate (1x3x3cm), a rounded piece of sandstone

(10x10x11cm), and a square piece of limestone (6x13x15cm). These rocks would

probably not instantly pique the archaeologist’s curiosity; with slate, sandstone, and

limestone all being common in the Lake District (Stone 1999), these four rocks

would not be perceived as imported materials, and the future archaeologist may not

recognise their significance. However, she may notice that all four rocks show signs

of abrasion (highlighted in Fig. 150).

Although these particular rocks will probably not be interminably employed as tools

of percussion, they will be replaced by others. And if their replacements – or their

replacements’ replacements – are still within close proximity to coin-tree sites by

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2200, the future archaeologist may notice similar signs of abrasion, indicating that

they had been employed as tools of percussion. She may also detect metallic residues

on the edges of the rocks, suggesting a connection with the coins, and she may

recognise that the sizes of these rocks permit the theory that they could have been

hand-held tools.

The evidence would signify, therefore, that the coins had not been buried but had in

fact been hammered into something, and also that the bending of the coins was

incidental rather than integral to the deposition, as the result of percussion.

Additionally, it may signify that some of the depositors, at least, had not come

equipped with their own tools of percussion, having resorted instead to nearby rocks

– possibly indicating that the act of deposition was not a planned but impromptu act.

7 – IDENTIFYING THE RECEPTACLE

If the archaeologist does conclude that the coins were hammered into something, a

question will inevitably follow: what were they hammered into? With no remains of

a structure evident, the future archaeologist will probably posit that the receptacle of

the coins was either stolen or naturally perishable; probably the latter, for what kind

of thief would remove and discard the coins before stealing the receptacle? And

judging by the level of damage incurred by the coins through percussion, she will

probably further hypothesise that the material of the receptacle was of moderate

density: not as firm as rock but less yielding than earth. The future archaeologist will

also observe that the site (in most cases) is heavily forested. Even if the area has

been deforested by 2200 there will still be methods she could employ to determine

this, most notably palynology: the microscopic analysis of pollen grain (Erdtman

1969; Moore et al. 1991).

Palynology is not only used to determine the volume and species of vegetation

previously growing on a site, but also to trace vegetational changes. Niklasson,

Lindbladh and Björkman (2002), for example, employed pollen analysis in their

study of a Swedish forest and were able to determine that oak (Quercus) and pine

(Pinus) grew in abundance at the site until the 18th

/19th

centuries, when they were

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replaced by other species. Similarly employing palynology, Wille et al. (2002) were

able to establish the nature of the vegetation once growing in a deforested area in

Ecuador; Binney et al. (2011) reconstructed past tree line patterns in Canada and

Alaska; and Hughes (2011) ascertained the level of deforestation undertaken in the

classical Mediterranean. Even in the event of deforestation at the coin-tree sites,

therefore, the future archaeologist will likely be able to determine the volume and

species of trees which once grew there.

Will the future archaeologist put these points together to conclude that the coins

were hammered into trees? The evidence is certainly there, but its successful

interpretation will depend entirely upon the archaeologist’s skills of deduction. She

may correctly conclude that the material of the coins’ receptacle was wood, and,

depending upon the age of the coin-tree and the stage of decomposition, there may

be some indisputable evidence for this: coins still inserted within wooden fragments.

During the Ardmaddy excavation, 32 coins were uncovered embedded in fragments

of wood (Fig. 151); of these, 10 were pre-decimal coins, suggesting that coin-

embedded wooden fragments may survive intact long enough for the future

archaeologist to uncover them. In other cases there may still be notable quantities of

woody debris amidst the soil – as was the case in pit 3 at the Ardmaddy excavation –

or staining of the soil matrices surrounding the coins where the wood has decayed.

There may be further physical evidence surviving which would indicate the presence

of a large log at the site of coin deposition. Trees create such impacts on their

environments that even centuries after their complete decay there are still markers

testifying to their presence (Langohr 1993: 45; Peterken 1996: 195). The most

obvious marker is that of the tree-hole or tree-throw, a depression – usually in the

form of a deep, crescent-shaped pit – created when the root system of a tree, and its

associated soil and subsoil, are torn from the ground when the tree falls (Darvill

2008). These depressions become long-lasting features in the landscape and have

been employed as archaeological data in the contextualising of prehistoric sites

(Crombé 1993; Langohr 1993; Evans et al. 1999). For those coin-trees which fell,

pulling their root systems from the ground, notable tree-throws may be produced;

however, in the majority of cases, coin-trees are logs which did not fall naturally but

were felled, their root systems not having been pulled from the ground.

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However, as Henry and Swan (1974) demonstrate, focusing their study on a one-

tenth-acre square plot in a forest in New Hampshire, woodland has the potential to

reveal its own history based on numerous factors. By establishing the time

relationships between living stems, unburied dead trees, and buried tree fragments,

Henry and Swan are able to trace the course of forest succession over a period of

several hundred years, illustrating that it would be possible for the future

archaeologist to determine that there had been a log of substantial size – which may

have caused a depression simply through its extended presence on the ground –

within the area of coin deposition.

8 – RITUAL INTERPRETATIONS

With the testimonies of the coins, the hammer-rocks, and the forest itself, the future

archaeologist may be able to determine how – and into what – the coins were

deposited. However, will she be able to understand why they were deposited? Firstly,

she will need to decide whether the coins constitute a ‘ritual’ hoard or a ‘non-ritual’

hoard, as distinguished by Bradley (1990: 10).

Archaeologists have tended to make this distinction based on a set of criteria, the

primary point being, as mentioned above, the question of sacrifice: are the artefacts

irredeemable and physically damaged? Non-ritual deposits, such as ‘savings hoards’,

generally occur in locations from which they can be retrieved; ritual deposits, on the

other hand, tend to be treated as ‘sacrifices’; they should be difficult – or impossible

– to recover and physically damaged (Robertson 1974: 18; Bradley 1990: 10; Insoll

2011). However, although the future archaeologist has probably theorised that the

coins were hammered into something and were thus intended to be semi-

irredeemable, she may be naturally more inclined to propose a secular purpose for

the hoard from the outset.

British archaeology has a history of approaching hoards pragmatically, often having

viewed ritual explanations with suspicion (Bradley 1990: 16). Although this

tendency has changed since the 1990s – as is evidenced by the ritually-rich

interpretations of the East Leicestershire hoard, for example – the future

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archaeologist’s perspective may be coloured by scholarly assertions that, by the 21st

century, Western society had transitioned into a ‘secular age’ (Taylor 2007: 1), all

local traditions and customs having succumbed to what Redner terms ‘cultural

homogenization…which we now describe by that ominous term “globalization”’

(2004: 2). If the future archaeologist believes that the 21st

century was a largely

secular age, then she may find it difficult to reconcile the dates of the coins with a

ritual interpretation of their deposition.

However, the future archaeologist may know that non-ritual hoarding was not a

prominent feature of the 20th

and 21st centuries; in modern, Western society, banks

and building societies – or even jars and piggy-banks – are far more common

deposition sites than holes in the ground (Laing 1969: 54). And the coins themselves

offer additional testimony to the ritual aspect of this deposition. For non-ritual

hoards, coins of higher value, such as those made of gold and silver, were the more

popular deposits than coins of lower value, most probably because gold and silver

coins occupy far less space than their equivalent value in copper coins, and while

copper is liable to depreciation, precious metals tend to retain their value. (Robertson

1956: 265-267; Laing 1969: 52-67; Robertson 1974; Aitchison 1988: 271; Newton

2006: 213).

At a coin-tree site, therefore, where the vast majority of identifiable British coins

will be one and two pence pieces, the future archaeologist may conclude that this

assemblage was not a savings hoard. Additionally, the sheer quantity of coins may

suggest multiple depositors – possibly one coin per participant – rather than a select

few individuals, and the deposition of coins over a period of time as opposed to on

one occasion (Aitchison 1988: 271), may lead the future archaeologist to advocate a

designation of ritual-hoarding.

This form of assemblage, produced by numerous depositors, is not strictly speaking

a ‘hoard’, but rather what Laing terms an ‘accumulation’ – a collection of artefacts

deposited over a period of time – the most common case of which in Britain is the

deposition of coins in sacred springs or wells as votive offerings (Laing 1969: 57).

One of the most famous accumulations of coins in the British Isles is from the

Roman fort of Carrawburgh on Hadrian’s Wall, where between 15,000 and 20,000

coins were recovered from the sacred well of the nymph Coventina, their dates

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ranging from the reign of Augustus (27 BC-14 AD) to the late 4th

or early 5th

century

(Laing 1969: 57; Aitchison 1988: 275). This quantity of coins, likely deposited by

numerous participants over a long period of time (in the case of Carrawburgh,

roughly 300 years) rather than on one occasion, is more akin to the levels and

duration of deposition at coin-trees.

As well as the coins, there may be other deposits which suggest ritual significance.

At the East Leicestershire hoard, for example, although there is no evidence of a

temple or shrine having occupied the site (despite indications of an enclosure or hill

boundary), the presence of other objects – most notably animal bones – led

archaeologists to suggest that the site was ‘an important religious centre’ (Priest et al.

2003: 360); ‘closely associated with ritual sacrifice and/or feasting’ (Leins 2007:

39); and ‘an open air meeting place for specific ritual processes’ (Score 2006: 206).

While the presence of such remains as animal bones is not indisputable evidence for

ritual activity, it has been interpreted thusly; the same may apply to the non-coin

deposits recovered at coin-tree sites.

At Ardmaddy, of the 703 small finds recorded, 12 were not coins (Appendix 5.12).

Of these, four were of pliable material: two pieces of string, a shoelace, and a piece

of blue, plastic-coated wire (Fig. 152). As there were numerous pieces of cloth –

ribbons, string, rags – currently tied to the coin-tree’s branches, as have been found

at other coin-tree sites (Isle Maree, Fore, St. Nectan’s Glen), it is possible that these

four finds were, likewise, initially affixed to the tree’s branches. The two pieces of

string, for example, were knotted to form loops, suggesting that they were tied

around something.

Such finds may lead the future archaeologist to posit a connection between the

custom of coin-deposition and rag-trees, an accurate connection (see Chapter 4),

which may also aid in the archaeologist’s identification of the receptacle as a tree.

However, all four pliable finds at Ardmaddy were recovered from the turf or the top

10cm spits, indicating that they had not been buried for long periods of time. The

perishable nature of these deposits suggests that they would not survive to be

uncovered by the future archaeologist.

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The more durable non-coin deposits, on the other hand, are far more likely to

survive. Jewellery, for example, also links coin-trees with rag-trees and the belief

that objects worn close to the body made suitable deposits. Items such as a hairclip, a

badge, an earring, and a necklace chain have been discovered deposited at Isle Maree

(Fig. 88) (Appendix 2.26), and due to their durable materials, may survive to be

recovered by the future archaeologist. Metal nails and pins may also survive (Fig.

86), connecting the coin-tree with the custom of nail- and pin-trees. At Ardmaddy,

one large, bent, hand-cut nail was uncovered amidst coins (Fig. 153) (Appendix

5.12), whilst 64 nails, one screw, and one drawing-pin have been discovered

embedded into other coin-trees. These connections with past folkloric customs – rag-

trees, nail-trees, pin-trees – may lead the future archaeologist to interpret the site

ritually and theorise that similar reasons may lie behind the insertion of a coin into a

tree as they did behind the attaching of rags, nails, and pins.

Other aspects of the site may lead to ritual interpretation. As at Hallaton, at

Ardmaddy there may be evidence of an enclosure. The wooden fence erected in the

1990s to protect the coin-tree from livestock will probably not still be standing but

evidence of it may remain in the form of postholes, no doubt adding fuel to the

future archaeologist’s theory that the site was a ritual space, having been demarcated

from the surrounding landscape. As Score argues in her analysis of the Hallaton

Hoard, boundaries are ‘common features in ritual space and…may mark the point at

which sacred and profane met’ (2011: 156).

However, no other coin-tree has been enclosed or physically protected, so these sites

will produce no evidence of demarcation. Their close proximities to footpaths (Fig.

154), on the other hand, may be observed and included in analyses. Score, for

example, notes the close proximity of the Hallaton Hoard to Roman roads, which

may have utilised previous trackways, as evidence suggesting the site was a

communal gathering place for dispersed groups (2011: 156).

Even if the footpaths beside coin-trees are no longer traversed by 2200, there are

certain techniques which the future archaeologist could employ to determine their

presence. Aerial photography, for example, has been used by archaeologists since the

1920s (Crawford 1929), and has been employed to identify lines of communication,

such as roads and tracks, which are not easily noticeable from the ground (Wilson

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1982: 137-138). Technologies have developed further, and digital remote sensing,

such as satellite imaging and infrared photography, have been used to identify even

prehistoric footpaths (Sheets and Sever 1988; Sheets et al. 1991; Trombold 1991;

Whitridge 2013). The future archaeologist therefore will have the means to establish

that (in most cases) the sites of deposition are located directly beside footpaths, and

she will most certainly, and correctly, propose that this close proximity is more than

mere coincidence. However, she may also note that the paths do not actually lead to

the deposition sites but past them, suggesting that these sites were not primary

destinations in and of themselves.

With 23 of the 33 coin-tree sites visited located within close proximity to bodies of

water – rivers, waterfalls, lakes – the future archaeologist may also postulate that

water was significant in the choice of the areas as deposition sites. This would also

be correct, as the high quantity of tourists encountering coin-trees is probably largely

due to the fact that waterfalls are popular tourist attractions, and rivers, lakes, etc.,

are often features of popular rural walks. For example, of the 100 walking routes

described in Countryfile: Great British Walks (Scott 2010), 68 feature rivers,

streams, lakes, canals, waterfalls, and the sea. However, the future archaeologist runs

the risk of over-interpreting water’s significance. During interviews, no participants

expressed any sentiments that suggested a ritual connection between coin-trees and

waterfalls, rivers, etc., but their close proximity may lead the archaeologist to draw

on comparisons made elsewhere within the British Isles with the many water-

deposition sites of ritual hoards (Laing 1969; Bord and Bord 1985; Merrifield 1987;

Aitchison 1988; Bradley 1990; Fulford 2001; Cool and Richardson 2013).

9 – THE DEPOSITORS

The future archaeologist has questioned when the custom was practiced and why.

She may then turn her attention to the participants, and question who was depositing

these coins. The material record may offer some evidence to draw upon for such an

enquiry. The presence of foreign currencies may be considered significant,

suggesting that foreign tourists were amongst the participants. At Ardmaddy, for

example, 14 examples of worldwide foreign currency were uncovered during

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excavation (Appendix 5.8). Indeed, 231 non-British coins have been catalogued

across coin-tree sites (Appendix 3.3), with only seven of the 32 sites containing no

foreign currency. It is certainly possible, therefore, that the future archaeologist will

encounter some non-British coins in her investigation.

Numerous archaeological surveys have noted the significance of foreign coinage

discovered in hoards and other assemblages, and interpretations vary. Middle Eastern

coins found in a Viking hoard in Sweden, for example, have been perceived as

evidence of early trade (Anonymous 2008; Owen 2008). Italian, Egyptian, and

Middle Eastern coinage unearthed in a hoard in India has been cited as evidence of

the import of valuta (Digby 1980). East Asian coins excavated at sites in North

America (Beals 1980; Olsen 1983) and Chinese coins discovered in New Zealand

(Neville and Park 1987) have been interpreted as proof of immigrant communities

retaining their home-currencies. Evidently, archaeologists draw heavily on evidence

of diversity in their interpretations of coin finds; it is therefore likely that the future

archaeologist would give foreign coins much consideration in her interpretation of

the coin-tree site.

In all likelihood, she would hypothesise that the foreign coins had been inserted by

tourists. This is not always the case; during fieldwork at Snowdon, for example, I

interviewed an English woman who inserted a two Euro cent left-over from a recent

holiday abroad because she considered that particular coin as disposable. However,

from my own observations, many foreign coins are inserted by foreign participants.

The future archaeologist’s most likely hypothesis would therefore be largely correct,

and this may lead her to theorise that domestic tourists also participated in the

custom. If she researches land-custodianship and usage of the sites during the period

of coin-deposition, she will know that they were all popular routes for leisurely

walking, many of which attracted both foreign and domestic tourists.

There is, however, no material evidence which indicates children’s central role in

this custom, which would probably lead to an absence of children in interpretations;

as Baker observes, ‘archaeologists have always assumed that men were present at

archaeology sites, but that…children had to be found’ (2008: 166). Granted, there

have been archaeological studies concerned with how children and unstructured

‘child-play’ can influence artefact-distribution (Bonnichsen 1973; Hammond and

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Hammond 1981), and the archaeology of children is a growing research topic

(Sofaer Derevenski 2000; Lillehammer 2000; Kamp 2001; Baxter 2008). However, it

is unlikely that the central role played by children in the coin-tree custom will be

identified in the absence of any obvious material evidence for it.

Without the participants to question, the future archaeologist cannot know exactly

why they participated, only how. She thus runs the risk of over-interpretation. She

may not account for playfulness or for imitation, believing instead that every

depositor had a ‘ritual’ motive for participation, and – probably drawing on the same

coin- and tree-related traditions explored in Chapter 4 – she may be inclined to seek

ritual motives where, in fact, there are none. The customs and beliefs of the 19th

century may thus be projected onto the 21st century in the analysis of this custom;

rather than considering the possibility that a person deposited a coin simply because

others had done so or to entertain children, the future archaeologist may theorise that

the 21st-century participant was motivated by residual beliefs in the coin’s apotropaic

or curative powers.

10 – CONCLUSION

Given their predominantly organic natures and the low levels of protection bestowed

upon them, coin-trees are certainly not permanent structures. It is clear, however,

that their transience will not result in a disappearance from the material record.

Subject to the coins being left in situ, these structures will leave enough evidence of

their existence for the future archaeologist to piece together.

If adeptly analysed, the archaeological remains of most coin-tree sites would testify

to an accumulation of low-denomination coins deposited over a number of years,

possibly decades, inserted into a wooden structure, possibly a log, by tourists, many

of whom had not come prepared with a hammer judging by the signs of impact

evident on nearby rocks. Evidence of other forms of deposits are indicative of a long

and complex ritual narrative, suggesting that the custom manifested itself in various

forms and was therefore a mutable, rather than a fixed, entity. The material evidence

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of the coin-trees will, therefore, proffer enough information for a fairly accurate

analysis.

Interpretation, however, may prove more difficult. There will probably be enough

material evidence left to ascertain the physical components of participation in this

custom, but not to determine personal motivation. The ‘how’ will be answered, but

not necessarily the ‘why’ – hence the importance of collecting ethnographic data. It

is hoped that the evidence compiled in this thesis and in subsequent projects may

eventually be used to complement the future archaeologist’s interpretation of the

material remains of coin-trees, so that a fuller understanding of the mutable nature of

this custom may be attained.

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CHAPTER 8: CONCLUSION

1 – THE COIN-TREE CONTEXTUALISED?

It was the aim of this thesis, as stated in its title, to contextualise the contemporary

coin-tree. In order to do this, I compiled a catalogue of coin-trees in the British Isles,

conducted research on the history of the practice, and undertook fieldwork at each

site. Data was gathered regarding the physical structures themselves: the tree species,

conditions, and sizes; their locations; and the quantities, denominations, dates, and

distributions of the coins. As well as drawing on the material evidence, relevant

literature on the sites was identified, ranging from the works of 19th

-century

antiquarians to walkers’ online forums, and ethnographic data was gathered. This

involved interviewing (both via email, telephone, and face-to-face) the coin-tree

custodians, heritage professionals, and members of the public who had participated

in the custom. An hour of observation was also made at each coin-tree site, noting

how people engage with these structures.

These methods were all employed in an attempt to contextualise the contemporary

coin-tree. Questions which this thesis aimed to answer included: How widespread is

the coin-tree custom within the British Isles? How ‘old’ or ‘new’ are the structures?

Who participates in it and why? What accounts for its recent resurgence? Some

questions were simpler to answer than others.

The age of most coin-trees, for example, was relatively easy to ascertain, based on

the testimony of both land-owners and the dates of the coins themselves. However,

the age of the custom proved far more difficult to establish. Likewise, the question of

who participates in this custom was easily answered: a broad range of people,

regardless of gender, race, and age, who happen to have stumbled upon a coin-tree.

While on the other hand, the question of why they participate proved complex and

multifaceted.

Indeed, the very nature of the coin-tree resists neat contextualisation due to its

mutability. These structures shift from context to context, geographically and

chronologically, but also from person to person. Their ambiguity, as natural and

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manufactured, as old and new, as sacred and secular, results in a set of structures

which defy both classification and neat contextualisation.

Chapter 4 attempted to ‘read backwards’, to trace the historical customs and beliefs

which resulted in the emergence of the contemporary coin-tree. However, the origins

of the coin-tree proved far too complex and convoluted to simply ‘read backwards’.

Rather than a successive line of evolving customs, the coin-tree is more an

amalgamation of numerous strands of traditions, beliefs, and substitutions: the tree’s

history of ritual employment and its relationship with the holy well; the rag-tree,

nail-tree, and pin-tree, and the notion of contagious transfer; the perceived folk-

remedial and apotropaic powers of coins, as well as their status as symbols of value

and exchange, in both the secular and sacred realms.

Due to the convoluted history and origins of the coin-tree custom, any proposal for

the age of this practice would be tenuous guesswork at best. If dated to the first

reference of the earliest known coin-tree, Isle Maree, this would be 1775, when

Pennant briefly referred to a tree employed as an altar (1775: 330). However, if dated

to the first explicit reference of the insertion of coins into trees, this would be 1860,

when Campbell referred to ‘copper caps… placed in chinks in rocks and trees at the

edge of the “Witches’ Well”’ in Islay (1860: 134). In fact, perhaps the current

custom of inserting coins into trees should be dated to its contemporary resurgence,

in which case the estimated coinage date of the Bolton Abbey coin-tree, c.1991-1996

(pers. comm. Moira Smith, Bolton Abbey Visitor’s Manager, 11/11/2011), should be

utilised in establishing the date of this custom.

This contemporary re-emergence is, likewise, the result of a number of factors: the

mid/late 20th

-century rise in child-oriented families; the growth of domestic tourism;

a change in forestry guidelines; and the late 20th

-century rise of the Internet,

producing an effective dissemination mechanism for the custom as well as

prompting a reconsideration of the definitional parameters of ‘folklore’ and ‘oral

transmission’. As Clifford aptly observes: ‘Metaphors of continuity and “survival”

do not account for complex historical processes of appropriation, compromise,

subversion, masking, invention, and revival’ (1988: 338). Contextualising the coin-

tree historically thus proved complicated and ‘untidy’.

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Chapter 5 attempted to locate the coin-tree custom in contemporary society and to

consider how people engage with these structures. This flagged a number of

seemingly contradictory factors. For example, an absence of prior knowledge of the

custom was evident on the participants’ parts and yet there were high volumes of

participation. Also, while the removal of coins is perceived as taboo, suggesting that

the coins are viewed as ‘off-limits’, people physically engage with the larger

structures freely, in many cases exhibiting no inhibitions about

sitting/standing/climbing on them. Additionally, there was an evident inclination to

imitate paired with the desire to individuate, leading to another seeming

contradiction: the coin, an alienable, anonymous, and disposable object, is

constructed as both a metaphor of identity and as an inviolable deposit through the

simple act of inserting it into the bark of a tree.

Chapter 6 aimed to consider what coin-trees mean to modern-day practitioners and

what they do; the roles they play in attracting and influencing participation, and in

fostering social relations. These considerations proved equally complicated. The

very nature of coin-trees – as unofficial and enigmatic structures often stumbled

upon by chance – encourages great variation in the why of participation. How an

individual interprets a coin-tree can be dependent upon a number of factors:

geographical location, the presence or absence of ‘official’ interpretation, season and

weather, who they are with, their age, their personality and emotional mood, and at

what stage in their life they encounter a coin-tree. The coin-tree custom thus has not

one ‘meaning’, but a myriad.

However, the ‘untidiness’ of this contextualisation reveals much about the coin-tree

custom: its propensity for adaptation; its situational element; and its inherent

malleability. Indeed, it elucidates much about the nature of folklore itself, which,

despite often being presented as fixed and immutable, is often, by necessity, quite the

opposite. Because customs and symbols (such as the coin and the tree) can be

variously interpreted, they thus become broadly inclusive; everybody can participate

if they so desire. The coin-tree, therefore, acts as what Eade and Sallnow term a

ritual ‘void’, a space which can accommodate various meanings and practices (1991:

15). It is for this reason that mutability is often essential to a folkloric custom.

255

Ironically, the difficulties in contextualising the coin-tree were therefore essential to

a successful contextualisation. Complexity, malleability, mutability, and ‘untidiness’

are not incidental aspects of this contemporary custom, but integral to it. This has

demonstrated the flexibility required when researching a contemporary folkloric

custom; flexibility which, in this case, required the employment of a relatively

unconventional combination of methodologies and theoretical frameworks: most

notably archaeology and folklore.

2 – ARCHAEOLOGY AND FOLKLORE

In Chapter 2, the hope was expressed that this thesis would contribute to the

fostering of a dialogue between archaeology and folklore. While the future of this

academic pairing remains unclear, this research has, in my opinion, successfully

demonstrated the applicability and benefits of employing both archaeological and

folkloric methodologies in the study of a contemporary custom. My research is

particularly suitable for such an approach due to the contemporaneity of my case-

studies; folklore and archaeology could be considered in unison without stretching

either source because the material evidence of the folkloric custom – i.e. the coin-

tree – and the testimonies of the participating ‘folk’ are both current. The material

culture of the coin-trees illustrated how people participate in this custom; the

folkloric data elucidated why.

The sheer volume of coin-trees and coins testify to the popularity of this custom,

while the increases in these quantities observed on return trips, for example at

Hardcastle Crags (Appendix 2.23) and Malham (Appendix 2.30), confirm its

currency. The coin-tree custom is not simply being observed in the present day, but it

is still undergoing the processes of creation.

The empirical evidence of the coins themselves, their denominations and

distributions, evince the prominent roles played by aesthetics, imitation, and

personalisation in the participation of this custom, whilst other objects deposited

amidst the coins attest to the mutability of this practice and the various forms it has

taken. For older coin-trees, about which ethnographic data is harder to source,

archaeological methodologies are invaluable. As particularly demonstrated by the

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Ardmaddy excavation, the material evidence of the coin-tree can proffer much

chronological information and can be used to determine an approximate time-frame

of deposition at a given site.

On the other hand, the testimony of the participating ‘folk’, along with any relevant

literature, can elucidate what the custom ‘means’ today. Interviews with participants,

contemporaneous literature, and online blogs and forums can reveal why people

choose to participate and what they believe the purpose of the custom is. As this

entire thesis has demonstrated, ‘meaning’ is mutable, relative, and entirely

contingent upon the individual participants, and the material evidence alone fails to

communicate this element of personal motivation. For example, two coins located

side-by-side in the same coin-tree may have been inserted for entirely different

reasons, and unless the researcher can question the actual depositors of those coins,

she cannot know with any certainty why they were deposited. Identical material

remains do not necessarily constitute identical ritualistic beliefs, and this has much

wider implications for archaeological research.

Archaeology and folklore thus evidently complement each other. However, my

research reveals more than this, demonstrating that neither source would be adequate

in isolation. Even the archaeological and folkloric evidence of my case-studies, as

chronologically-concordant as they are, reveal a resistance to neat correlation. An

interpretation of the material culture of the coin-trees alone does not always agree

with an interpretation of the spoken testimony of the participating ‘folk’. For

example, discrepancies are particularly notable in attempts to date certain coin-trees.

As was evident during the Ardmaddy excavation, the information proffered by the

material evidence of the coins did not correlate with estimates of age given by local

residents: whilst the empirical data suggested that the custom became popular during

the 1970s, the testimony of local residents, the land-owner, and a 1978 OS map

indicate that it was well-established much earlier than this, possibly in the 1920s. In

this case, the ethnographic data is considered more reliable. However, at Marbury

Park, Cheshire, although ethnographic evidence suggested that the custom was a

long-standing one in the park, the dates of the coins suggested that it was not, and in

this case, the material evidence was considered more accurate due to people’s

257

propensity to over-estimate the age of local customs – a research find which is

interesting in and of itself.

Evidently, folklore and archaeology do not simply complement each other; they

challenge each other, and this ratifies how invaluable the adoption of both

methodologies is. As Layton (1999) stresses, folklore and archaeology should not be

presented as two pieces of the same whole, reunited to reveal the full picture; rather,

they should be employed to reveal different layers of ‘meaning’ and different modes

of understanding. The two bodies of evidence may not complement each other to

form a full picture of the custom, but they certainly complement each other in their

contribution to a far deeper method of enquiry, prompting questions which would

not have been asked had only one methodology been employed. My research,

therefore, reveals not only that folklore and archaeology can be utilised in unison as

contextualising sources, but that they should be.

3 – LIMITATIONS AND FUTURE RESEARCH

A study of coin-trees opens up many questions, and this thesis will have only grazed

the tip of a vast topic. Due to time constraints, for example, fieldwork at a number of

coin-tree sites, brought to my attention too late, could not be undertaken; data from

these sites was therefore not included in this thesis. Indeed, due to the nature of this

custom – as a current practice which is undergoing wide dissemination – coin-trees

are undoubtedly emerging at unknown sites. The catalogue produced in this thesis is

therefore certainly incomplete, but it is hoped that it can act as a starting point for

further studies.

A larger, ongoing program could – and should – be implemented which fosters

collaboration between the various coin-tree custodians and leading heritage

organisations. Strategies should be employed which include the cataloguing of coin-

trees and the employment of ethnographers who can record details of the custom on

a larger scale than this thesis has been capable of offering. This program should

produce information regarding the custom, accessible to scholars, heritage

professionals, and members of the public alike. For this, a digital catalogue should

be implemented, offering a summary of the history of the coin-tree custom, together

258

with individual entries for each tree. These index records could include information

regarding the trees’ locations, species, dimensions, custodianship details, histories,

and photographs, and an entry form could be made available for any readers aware

of coin-trees not included in the catalogue; this inventory would thus not be a static

archive but an ongoing, growing compendium.

This program should also aim to work with coin-tree custodians in implementing

management strategies. It was opined in Chapter 7 that enclosing these structures

within protective fences or removing them would be counter-productive to the

preservation of this custom. In order to preserve the intangible cultural heritage of

the coin-trees, it would therefore be advised that participants simply be given the

opportunity to participate. In cases where land-owners are concerned for the health

of living trees, for example, it is recommended that they provide logs in order to

perpetuate this custom.

Due to word-limit restraints, other issues could not be considered in this thesis.

Questions concerning whether/how gender and ethnicity influence perceptions of,

and engagements with, coin-trees were not asked, but are certainly potential subjects

for future research. Additionally, geographic focus was restricted to the British Isles,

but coin-trees and similar structures/customs have been identified elsewhere, and it is

hoped that they can be the topic of future studies which allow for broader geographic

scopes. In Finland, for example, the custom of depositing coins at ‘sacred’ trees was

practiced during the early 20th

century (Harva 1932: 472; Itkonen 1948: 317-318).

Elsewhere, this custom is – as in the British Isles – current. During my research I

was contacted, via John Billingsley and Jeremy Harte, by an Australian named Peter

Townsend who informed me of the following:

In South Australia there is serious outback desert track called Googs Track.

Part way along this track is a memorial to the father and son who made the

track in the early 1960’s and next to the memorial are a couple of trees

studded with coins. This was a new phenomena [sic.] to us so it was very

interesting to learn about the custom in the U.K. Yes we did add another

coin, some kind of innate compulsion I suppose. (pers. comm. 28/03/2013)

The custom also appears to have manifested itself in Northern California; Professor

Barbara Voss of Stanford University informed me of wooden posts/sculptures

embedded with coins along the Point Reyes National Seashore and in the Mendocino

259

Headlands (pers. comm. 04/10/2013) (Fig. 155). While in Japan, members of the

public are embedding coins into the wooden torii gates (traditional gates placed at

entrances to Shinto shrines) erected at the peak of Mt. Fuji (Fig. 156).

Although direct comparisons should not be drawn between different countries, let

alone continents, it would certainly be interesting to attempt to determine if these

customs had emerged independently or if dissemination of the coin-tree custom has

proven to be worldwide; if the customs in Australia, the United States of America,

and Japan have developed from the same wave of emergence. Indeed, with the

prominent roles played by both the Internet and tourism in the transmission of the

coin-tree custom, it is not unlikely that the practice has spread from one country to

another. Certainly, folklore is not bound by national borders. Lang, for example,

considered how themes from classical Greek myths appeared as far afield as Japan,

Russia, and Samoa, proposing that tales and ideas can be swept ‘like pieces of drift-

wood’ from one place to another (1898: 97), ‘diffused by borrowing’ (1893: 417).

The coin-tree custom is, for example, described in the March 2014 edition of

enRoute, Air Canada’s in-flight magazine, aimed at foreign tourists visiting North-

West England. Whilst describing the sites of Cumbria, Musgrave observes that

‘[t]here are discoveries down every back road, from big hulking ruins to tiny

superstitious details. Hiking through the arboretum at the Aira Force waterfall…I see

coins forced into fallen logs’ (2014: 71). Not only will such publicity disseminate

awareness of this custom to an international audience – probably subsequently

increasing tourist traffic at coin-tree sites – but it may disseminate the custom itself;

will coin-trees begin to emerge in Canada also?

A study of the coin-tree custom and its various manifestations beyond the British

Isles could be made in light of Lang’s driftwood theory. It could also consider such

elements as the mutability of meaning on a much wider level, examining how a

custom spanning cultures and continents can appear physically homogenous but

‘mean’ something different at each location. How is the custom variously interpreted

in different countries? Do they stem from widely disparate traditions exclusive to

their cultures? Do nations manage, protect, or promote these structures differently?

And are the participants primarily tourists?

260

As well as a broader geographic scope, future studies could also enjoy a longer

chronological range. Further research could involve returning to this subject (and to

the coin-tree sites) in a number of years to ascertain whether the custom has spread

further, if it has undergone adaptations, and, if so, how and why it has altered. The

question proposed in Chapter 7 of what people may start to deposit at these sites

instead of coins may be answered; or perhaps, instead, the custom’s resurgence will

prove short-lived and will soon begin to ebb. This will spark further questions about

why the late 20th

/early 21st centuries proved exclusively conducive to the coin-tree

custom.

Further archaeological excavations could also be undertaken. Chapter 7

demonstrated the significant trace left by coin-trees in the material record; the

Ardmaddy excavation recovered 703 finds, mostly coins, and produced a significant

amount of data, and yet this was only a small-scale excavation due to funding and

time-restraints. Larger scale projects, which would allow researchers to excavate

both deeper and over greater areas, would in all likelihood proffer invaluable

information about the chronology of the coin-tree custom and the various forms it

has taken.

Isle Maree (Appendix 2.26) would offer a particularly interesting and insightful site

for such investigations. The North of Scotland Archaeology Society began

archaeological examinations and analysis of the island in 2002 but no excavation

was undertaken. If feasible, a full-scale excavation at this site is recommended, in

order to determine if the time-frame of deposition suggested by the material evidence

coincides with literary records, as well as to ascertain the location of the holy well,

which is no longer visible but features prominently in the literature concerned with

Isle Maree (Pennant 1775 330; Campbell 1860: 134; Mitchell 1863: 251-265; Dixon

1886: 151; Hartland 1893: 453-454; Muddock 1898: 437-438).

Contemporary coin-tree sites may also benefit from future archaeological

excavations, especially in cases where coin-trees have been removed or destroyed,

such as at Freeholders Wood, Hardcastle Crags, and High Force. Additionally, our

understanding of sites for which the literary and ethnographic evidence suggests a

detailed and interesting chronology, such as St. Nectan’s Glen, would benefit from

excavations. Such projects could consider the archaeological implications of these

261

modern folkloric sites, further fostering a dialogue between archaeology and

folklore.

4 – ‘FESTERING SUPERSTITIONS’?

The broader aim of this thesis was to address Van den Eynden’s statement of ‘a need

to update the status of plant symbolism in present times and to assess how relevant it

may be nowadays’ (2010: 239). The conclusion: coin-trees demonstrate a

widespread and popular employment of trees in folkloric customs within the British

Isles at present. Although the ‘traditional’ uses of coin-trees – most notably folk-

remedial – are no longer largely observed, and have been replaced by purposes more

relevant to contemporary society, the coin-tree stands as proof that Benedict was

incorrect in her assertion that ‘folklore has not survived as a living trait in modern

civilization’ (1932: 292).

The coin-tree is not simply a survival; a ‘festering superstition’, to use Margaret

Schlegel’s term from Forster’s Howards End (1910 [2000]: VIII, 61). It is not a

decaying tradition, clinging to survival; it is animate, prevalent, and very much a

feature of contemporary society. As Hartland contends, ‘[t]radition is always being

created anew’ (1885: 117), and the coin-tree attests to this. The custom of tree-

implantation may be an old one, but every contemporary coin-tree, every process of

substitution, recreates the tradition and imbues it with new meaning. This is not an

inert, fossilised tradition; it is an active, dynamic, fluid custom. The coin-tree thus

proves that while folkloric practices may ebb as they become irrelevant to

contemporary society, they are well-equipped to adapt, acclimatise, and re-emerge.

To return to Mrs Wilcox of Howards End:

There are pig’s teeth stuck into the trunk, about four feet from the ground. The country people put them in long ago, and they think that if they chew

a piece of the bark it will cure the toothache. The teeth are almost grown

over now, and no one comes to the tree. (Forster 1910 [2000]: VIII, 61)

Indeed they do not, Mrs Wilcox. For they are all hammering pennies into coin-trees

instead.

262

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302

APPENDIX 1 – FIGURES & MAPS

1.1 – FIGURES

Figure 1

Figure 2

An example of a

coin-tree log,

Bolton Abbey,

Yorkshire, BA5.

(Photograph by

author)

An example of a

coin-tree stump,

Portmeirion,

Gwynedd, PM6.

(Photograph by

author)

303

Figure 3

Figure 4

An example of a

coin-tree living

tree, Loxley,

Yorkshire, LX1.

(Photograph by

author)

An example of a

coin-tree post,

Snowdon,

Gwynedd, SN1.

(Photograph by

author)

304

Figure 5

Figure 6

An example of a coin-

tree sculpture,

Ingleton, Yorkshire,

IG28.

(Photograph by

author)

Possibly the original

Isle Maree coin-tree,

Northwest Highlands,

IM1.

(Photograph by

author)

305

Figure 7

Figure 8

The primary Isle Maree

coin-tree in the 1890s.

(Godden 1893: Figure 2)

The primary Isle Maree

coin-tree, IM1, in the

1970s.

(Coxe 1973: 174)

306

Figure 9

Figure 10

The primary

Ardmaddy coin-

tree, AM1.

(Photograph by

author)

The stringed-grid

arranged on PG1.

(Photograph by

author)

307

Figure 11

Figure 12

HC6 on my first visit (left) contrasted against HC6 on my second visit (right).

(Photographs by author)

HC6 on my first visit (left) contrasted against HC6 on my second visit (right), with the

original coins highlighted red and the added coins highlighted blue.


308

Figure 13

Figure 14

Figure 15

A 2 pence piece bearing the

word ‘NEW’ in its design,

inserted into BF1 ,

indicating that it was issued

between 1971 and 1982.

(Photograph by author)

From left to right: the Mary Gillick portrait of Queen Elizabeth II introduced in 1953; the

Arnold Machin RA portrait, introduced in 1968; the Raphael Maklouf portrait,

introduced in 1985; and the Ian Rank-Broadley FRBS portrait, introduced in 1998.

(Adapted from The Royal Mint, online resource)

The original Christopher Ironside designs, printed on British coinage until 2008.


309

Figure 16

Figure 17

Figure 18

The Royal Arms designs, printed on British coinage from 2008 until the present.


The 50 pence piece issued in

1998 to commemorate the 50th

anniversary of the NHS, inserted

into BA5.


A cluster of

coins inserted

into BB1,

labelled 1-9.

(Photograph by

author)

310

Figure 19

Figure 20

The longitudinal distribution of coins in IM4.


The radial distribution of coins in PM12.


311

Figure 21

Figure 22

The wave-like distribution of coins in AF1.


The diagonal distribution of coins in

MH5.


312

Figure 23

Figure 24

The annular distribution of coins in IG26.


The loose distribution of coins on BF1.


313

Figure 25

Figure 26

The random distribution of coins in PM4.


The primary coin-tree of Ingleton, IG3.


314

Figure 27

Figure 28

Figure 29

GZ2, a coin-tree stump at

Grizedale, Cumbria; so

unobtrusive and indistinct that

most people walked over it.


PM3, a coin-tree stump at

Portmeirion, Gweynedd;

situated at eye-level, few

people walked past who did

not notice it.


PM4, a coin-tree stump at

Portmeirion, Gwynedd; like

GZ2, it is in the centre of a

path, but its extra height and

higher quantity of coins

made it far more noticeable.


315

Figure 30

Figure 31

Photograph of offerings – pebbles, keys, rags,

ribbons, and rosary beads – deposited on

Clonenagh’s ‘St Fintan’s Tree’, taken by Father

Francis Browne, April 1933.

(Courtesy of Davison & Associates Ltd.)

Photograph of Clonenagh’s ‘St Fintan’s

Tree’, taken by Father Francis Browne,

April 1933.

(Courtesy of Davison & Associates Ltd.)

316

Figure 32

Figure 33

A priest examines the offerings

deposited on Clonenagh’s ‘St

Fintan’s Tree’, photograph taken

by Father Francis Browne, April

1933.

(Courtesy of Davison &

Associates Ltd.)

The coin-encrusted fallen trunk of the original St Fintan’s Tree, 1990s.

(Morton 1998: 196)

317

Figure 34

Figure 35

The coin-less

fragment, possibly

all that remains of

the original St.

Fintan’s Tree, 2012.

(Photograph by

author)

The young offshoot of the original

St. Fintan’s Tree, 2012.


318

Figure 36

Figure 37

Coins inserted

into the

branches of

the young

offshoot of the

original St.

Fintan’s Tree,

2012.

(Photographs

by author)

A child hammers an

object into the Ardboe

‘wishing-tree’, 1980s.

(Sketch by Ian Newsham,

reproduced in Simon

2000: Figure 5)

319

Figure 38

Figure 39

Local resident and take-carer,

Francis Quinn, with the

original Ardboe ‘wishing-

tree’, 1973.

(Courtesy of Pat Grimes)

The second Ardboe ‘wishing-

tree’, 1990.

(Photograph by Pat Grimes)

320

Figure 40

Figure 41

The second Ardboe wishing-tree after its fall, 1998.


Sawing the fallen Ardboe wishing-tree into section, 1998.


321

Figure 42

Figure 43

The replacement tree at Ardboe, not yet

employed as a ‘wishing-tree’, 2012.


Anonymous painting of Gougane Barra, 1809, with the wooden pole on the left.

(Courtesy of Kieran McCarthy)

322

Figure 44

Figure 45

Detail of anonymous painting of Gougane Barra,

1809, depicting people attaching offerings to the

wooden pole supporting the cross.

(Courtesy of Kieran McCarthy)

The fallen, coin-encrusted wooden cross, leaning

against a tree, posted in Bugbitten.com

(Accessed 23/10/2012)

323

Figure 46

Figure 47

Make-shift rag-trees: the mass of crutches lodged into the ground at

Doon Well, c.1900.

(Reproduced with kind permission from the Wellcome Trust)

Heavily worn and bent silver sixpence of William III, (1694-

1702). Re-used as a love token.

(Reproduced with kind permission from the Portable

Antiquities Scheme)

324

Figure 48

Figure 49

Complete, but bent in two,

silver short cross penny, dated

AD 1207-1222.

(Reproduced with kind

permission from the Portable

Antiquities Scheme)

Dr Johnson’s touch-piece. This example is said to be the medal with which Queen

Anne 'touched' Samuel Johnson (1709-84) in 1711, when he was a two-year old

child.

(Reproduced with kind permission from the British Museum)

325

Figure 50

Figure 51

Figure 52

A woman knocks her coin into

the primary coin-tree at Dovedale

using a small limestone rock.


A man utilises a rock as a tool

of percussion at Ingleton.


An engraved metal plate

screwed onto AF1: a pre-

meditated deposit?


326

Figure 53

Figure 54

A red candle deposited at Isle

Maree: another pre-meditated

deposit?


Likely pre-meditated deposits at St. Nectan’s Glen: a candle on a painted piece of

slate; a piece of green aventurine; a rubber duck; and a memorial of a deceased pet

(Ollie).


327

Figures 55 & 56

Several different groups congregating around the primary Ingleton coin-tree.


328

Figure 57

Examples of imitative longitudinal placement in coin-trees: TH3, SN1, TS3, and SNG1.


329

Figure 58

Figure 59

A man takes a close-up

shot of the coins of IG3.


A woman

photographs her

companion

standing beside

IG3.

(Photograph by

author)

330

Figures 60 & 61

Figure 62

Left: A woman takes a close-up photograph of SN1 with her camera

phone. Right: A couple take a photograph of PG1 with their camera

phone.


A man photographs his companion

as he hammers a coin into IG3 with

a rock.


331

Figure 63

Figure 64

The luminosity of the coins emphasised by sunlight in PM6.


The coins are less distinguishable from the shiny, wet wood of DD11.


332

Figure 65

Figure 66

A young child walks along the top of

CC1.


Children climb along

IG3.

(Photograph by

author)

333

Figure 67

Figure 68

A boy climbs the arch of IG3 and

claims that he cannot get down.


The post of SN2 is used for support

for climbers on Snowdon.


334

Figures 69 & 70

Figure 71

A love-lock ‘tree’ near Luzhkov

Bridge, Moscow.


A love-lock street sign in St.

Petersburg.


The first love-locks to adorn Tower Bridge, London.


335

Figure 72

Highly personalised love-locks on Luzhkov Bridge, Moscow. While some have been

adorned with fabric and paint, others have been professionally engraved with names

and dates (such as the two padlocks in the bottom right image, which are

impractically large).


336

Figure 73

Figure 74

Graffiti on two trees on Isle Maree: ‘Mick 1906’; ‘LFH’; ‘PETE LAIRD’.


Graffiti on a tree at Bolton Abbey: ‘1957’, ‘MT 2000’, ‘1996’, A. H. 1968’,

‘C. G. 19??’, ‘SL’, ‘E.C. <love-heart> CG’, ‘RS’, ‘TJ’, ‘MSO’.


337

Figure 75

Figure 76

Figure 77

Graffiti on a tree at

Claife Station:

‘VIM’, ‘D+K’,

‘KEVIN’, ‘Ellie +

Laura 08’, amongst

others.

(Photograph by

author)

What does it say??

What does it say??

Graffiti and coins in

AF3: ‘JEM’.

(Photograph by

author)


DD1 : ‘NIR’, ‘A4T’,

‘BMG’.

(Photograph by

author)

338

Figure 78

Figures 79 & 80

Figure 81


BB1: ‘LOTTIE’;

‘AKIRA’.

(Photograph by

author)

Graffiti and coins in BB1: ‘DC 4 ZW

4EVA’.


Graffiti and coins in FG5: ‘SR’.


Names scratched onto

granite cliffs at High

Force.


339

Figure 82

Figure 83

Names scratched onto pieces of slate and propped up against the rock face in St.

Nectan’s Glen. (Photograph by author)

Names scratched onto pieces of slate and propped up against the rock face in

St. Nectan’s Glen. (Photograph by author)

340

Figure 84

Figure 85

Clay faces on a tree

at Hardcastle Crags.

(Photograph by

author)

The red coin in FG1 stands out from

the crowd.


341

Figure 86

Figure 87

Non-coin objects inserted into coin-trees, for the sake of individuation? A screw in

AF1, a drawing pin in SG1; a bolt and screw in GZ3; and 34 nails hammered into HC6.


A Hobgoblin beer bottle cap affixed to

SNG1.


342

Figure 88

Figure 89

Left: Two black hair

bobbles, one metal

hairclip, one pink rag, one

piece of string, and one

leather bootlace, IM7.

Right: Golden eagle

badge, silver chain, and

crystal earring attached to

IM1.


A 20p piece attached with ribbons to

SNG1, as a method of personalising

the coin?


343

Figure 90

Coins accompanied by initials in coin-trees: an‘R’ written on a coin inserted into

DD14; a coin labelled ‘E’ in BB1; ‘MB’ scratched onto SN2; a coin labelled ‘E’

in HF3; a coin imprinted with ‘R&L’ in IG19; and 36 coins distributed to form

‘A.B’ or ‘B.B’ in IG19.


344

Figure 91

Figure 92

Graffiti (identification marks?)

scratched onto deposited twelfth-

century coins from Corinth

(Harris 1939: Fig. 3)

Four of the seven coins nailed to IG3 – to prevent their removal?


345

Figure 93

Figure 94

2013 Ordnance Survey map pinpointing the location of AM1 as ‘Wishing Tree’

A signpost directing

walkers to the

Ardmaddy ‘Wishing

Tree’


346

Figure 95

Figure 96

The interpretation panel

accompanying the Clonenagh

coin-tree



accompanying the Ingleton coin-

trees


347

Figure 97

Figure 98


accompanying the Becky Falls

coin-trees


The waterfall falling into St.

Nectan’s Kieve


348

Figure 99

Figure 100

The primary coin-tree at St. Nectan’s Glen


Rags and ribbons affixed to the branches of a tree at St.

Nectan’s Glen, with the coin-trees in the background


349

Figure 101

Figure 102

A lock of hair and a ribbon

attached to a branch at St.

Nectan’s Glen


A ‘fairy stack’ at St. Nectan’s

Glen


350

Figures 103 & 104

Above: Figure 103 – The primary St. Nectan’s Glen coin-tree in 2006, with

a fairy stack in the background and ribbons attached to a tree in the

foreground (Photograph by S. Daffarn)

Below: Figure 104 – The primary St. Nectan’s Glen coin-tree in 2013, with

a fairy stack in the background and ribbons attached to a tree in the

foreground (Photograph by author)

351

Figure 105

Figure 106

The key of the

map at Aira Force,

which pinpoints

the ‘Money Tree’

(Photograph by

author)

The map of Becky Falls included in their visitor leaflets, pinpointing the location of

‘Money Trees’

352

Figures 107 & 108

Figure 109

Left: Fig. 107 – A photograph of a young girl examining the primary

Bolton Abbey coin-tree, in a leaflet distributed to visitors by the Bolton

Abbey Estate

Right: Figure. 108 – A photograph and description of the ‘Money Tree’ on

the High Force Waterfall Facebook page

A pre-decimalisation

one penny inserted into

the primary Ingleton

coin-tree


353

Figure 110

Figure 111

A 1933 three

penny piece,

deposited on the

cliff-face behind

the primary St.

Nectan’s Glen

coin-tree

(Photograph by

author)

Coins issued in the 2000s/2010s showing signs of heavy weathering: a 201?

coin in AF1; 2004 one penny piece in FG1; a 2006 coin in AF1; and a 2005

coin in LG9.


354

Figure 112

Figure 113

Coins issued in 2008 or later exhibiting signs of verdigris: A 2008

two pence piece in MP1; a one penny piece with the coat-of-arms

design (post-2008) in IG3; and a two pence piece with the coat-of-

arms design in SN1.


The rag-trees of

Munlochy, the

Black Isle, 2013.

(Photograph by

author)

355

Figure 114

Figure 115

Coins deposited in

Saint Boniface’s

well, surrounded by

rag-trees, at

Munlochy, the

Black Isle, 2013

(Photograph by

author)

FR2; a living ash

tree in Fore, Co.

Westmeath,

adorned with rags

and coins.

(Photograph by

author)

356

Figure 116

Figure 117

St. Brendan’s Tree,

Clonfert, adorned with

coins and numerous

other deposits.


St. Feichin’s vat,

Fore, in which

children were (are

still?) bathed in

healing rituals.

Situated beside

coin-tree FG3

(Photograph by C.

Houlbrook)

357

Figure 118

Figure 119

Tin-foil attached to the

branch of FG2, Fore.


St. Bridget’s Well, Liscannor; the passageway lined with deposits.


358

Figure 120

Figure 121

Memorial messages

at St. Bridget’s Well,

Liscannor

(Photograph by

author)

A memorial message

written on a piece of

cloth and attached to a

tree at Munlochy, the

Black Isle


359

Figure 122

Figure 123

Figure 124

The heavily

decayed log

of BA3. The

mesh has been

applied for

safety.

(Photograph

by author)

The heavily

decayed BA1 and

BA2, which

fragment on

touch, losing

coins.

(Photograph by

author)

(Photograph by C.

Houlbrook)

The log-end of

HF3, a large

fragment of it

having already

fallen away.

(Photograph by

author)

360

Figure 125

Figure 126

Figure 127

The original High Force

coin-tree in September 2009.

(Photograph by Joanna

Hubbard)

The original High Force

coin-tree in early 2012.

(Photograph by Steve

Gillard)

All that remains of the

original High Force coin-

tree, September 2012.


361

Figure 128

Figure 129

The trophy awarded to Charles Struthers,

custodian of the Ardmaddy coin-tree.


An Ardboe coin-tree fragment stored

behind Coyle’s Cottage.


362

Figure 130

Figure 131

Two limbs from the Ardmaddy coin-tree, stored at Ardmaddy Castle


An Ardboe coin-tree fragment (ACNR 346-1998) stored at Ulster

Folk and Transport Museum


363

Figure 132

Figures 133 & 134

A limb from the

Ardmaddy coin-

tree, stored at the

entrance to

Ardmaddy Castle.

(Photograph by

author)

The young sapling, another offshoot of the

original Thorn, its enclosure also adorned

with ribbons. Note the Glastonbury Tor in

the background.


John Coles, former mayor of

Glastonbury, stands beside the vandalised

‘Holy Thorn’. The tree is protected

within an enclosure, which has been

adorned with ribbons.


364

Figure 135

Figure 136

Figure 137

PM2 on the ground.


PM1 propped up against an

oak tree.


SNG1 propped up

against a rock face.


365

Figure 138

Figure 139

Figure 140

MH1 resting on

the riverbed of

Gordale Beck

(Photograph by

author)

FG1-FG4 resting

across the pool

beneath the Fairy

Glen waterfall.

(Photograph by

author)

SNG2 on the

ground.

(Photograph by

author)

366

Figure 141

Figure 142

Figure 143

Coins resting loosely atop the

Ardmaddy coin-tree.


Coins distributed

on the ground

within the cluster

of coin-tree on

Isle Maree

(Photograph by

author)

The heavily decayed stump of PM8,

which has already begun to lose its

coins.


367

Figure 144

Figure 145

Figure 146

The heavily verdigrised

coins of Isle Maree.


Heavily flaked (post-

1992?) coins in IG3.

(Photograph by

author)

A split American cent, DD14.


368

Figure 147

Figure 148

Coins excavated at Ardmaddy which are either

bent/crooked or show signs of percussion on their edges.


OS Map 1978, pinpointing the location of the Ardmaddy ‘Wishing Tree’.

(National Grid Tile NM71NE, National Grid 1:10000, OS Grid NM71, 1978.)

369

Figure 149

Figure 150

The rocks within close proximity to AF1, which – judging by

the signs of abrasion, highlighted – have been previously used

as tools of percussion.


Top left: he edges of the

coin inserted into AF1;

top right: the damaged

edge of a 1 penny, DD14;

bottom: the coins of FG1,

damaged through

percussion.


370

Figure 151

Figure 152

Some coins still embedded in woody debris from the Ardmaddy excavation.


The pliable small-finds recovered during the Ardmaddy excavation: two pieces

of knotted string, a blue plastic-coated wire, and a knotted boot lace.


371

Figure 153

Figure 154

Coin-trees’ proximities to footpaths. Top left: Dovedale; top right: Lydford Gorge;

bottom left: Tarn Hows; bottom right: Leigh Woods.


The bent, hand-cut nail uncovered

during the Ardmaddy excavation.


372

Figure 155

Figure 156

A wooden sculpture embedded with coins, Mendocino Headlands, California,

USA, 2013.

(Photographs by Barbara L. Voss)

A wooden torii gate embedded with coins close to the summit of Mt. Fuji, Japan,

2012.


373

1.2 – MAPS

Map 1

Map illustrating the distribution of coin-tree sites across the British Isles.

374

Map 2

Map illustrating the quantities of coin-trees catalogued at each coin-tree site.

375

Map 3

Map illustrating the quantities of coins catalogued at each coin-tree site.

376

Map 4

Map illustrating the known creation dates of coin-tree sites.

377

APPENDIX 2 – COIN-TREE DATA

2.1 – Coin-Tree Site Abbreviations and Quantities

Coin-Tree Site Abbreviation Quantity of Coin-

Trees

Aira Force AF 7

Ardboe AB n/a

Ardmaddy AM 1

Arnside Knott AK 1

Becky Falls BF 16

Bolton Abbey BA 12

Brock Bottom BB 1

Claife Station CS 1

Clonenagh CL 1

Corfe Castle CC 1

Cragside CR 1

Dovedale DD 13

Fairy Glen FG 5

Fore FR n/a

Freeholders Wood FW n/a

Gougane Barra GB 8

Grizedale GZ 5

Hardcastle Crags HC 6

High Force HF 9

Ingleton IG 29

Isle Maree IM 15

Leigh Woods LW 1

Loxley LX 1

Lydford Gorge LG 12

Malham MH 23

Marbury MB 2

Padley Gorge PG 3

Portmeirion PM 13

Rydal RD 3

Snowdon SN 2

St Nectan’s Glen SNG 5

Stock Ghyll SG 8

Tarn Hows TH 22

Tarr Steps TS 14

378

2.2 – Conditions of Coin-Trees

Condition Description Quantity %

Living A standing and living tree 42 17%

Log An uprooted bole of diameter greater than

7.62cm and length greater than 91cm (as

recommended by Woodall & Nagel 2006: 117)

98 40%

Stump Either a rooted or uprooted stump 79 32%

Fragment An uprooted bole of diameter less than 7.62cm

and length less than 91cm (as recommended by

Woodall & Nagel 2006: 117)

3 1%

Wooden

Post

A piece of timber set upright as a support, as part

of a fence, as a place for displaying notices, etc.

21 7%

Artwork A piece of timber crafted for artificial purposes 1 0.4%

2.3 – Decay classes based on guidelines given by the British Columbian

Ministry of Natural Resource Operations

Class 1 Class 2 Class 3 Class 4 Class 5

Wood

Texture

Intact, hard Intact, hard

to partly

decaying

Hard, large

pieces, partly

decaying

Small,

blocky pieces

Many small

pieces, soft

portions

Portion on

Ground

Elevated on

support

points

Elevated but

sagging

slightly

Sagging near

ground, or

broken

All of log on

ground,

sinking

All of log on

ground,

partly sunken

Twigs <3cm

Present Absent Absent Absent Absent

Bark

Intact Intact or

partly

missing

Trace Absent Absent

2.4 – Creation Dates of English and Welsh Coin-trees based on

custodian testimonies

0

2 1

5

9

Pre-1991 1991-1995 1996-2000 2001-2005 2006-2010

379

2.5 – Identifiable coin-tree tree species

Species Quantity

Alder (Alnus) 3

Ash (Fraxinus) 12

Beech (Fagus) 13

Douglas fir (Pseudotsuga) 1

Hawthorn (Crataegus) 1

Holly (Ilex) 1

Larch (Larix) 1

Lime (Tilia) 2

Oak (Quercus) 14

Pine (Pinus) 12

Sycamore (Acer pseudoplatanus) 1

2.6 - The life-expectancy of trees according to species

Tree Species Life Expectancy

(years)

Coin-Tree Case-Studies

Douglas fir (Pseudotsuga) 300+ CR1

Oak (Quercus) 200-300 BF4, IM1, IM2, IM3, IM4,

IM6, IM9, LW1, MB1, TS2,

TS3, TS4, TS8, TS9, TS10

Sycamore (Acer

pseudoplatanus)

200-300 CL1

Holly (Ilex) 200-300 GB2, GB3, GB4, GB6

Scot’s pine (Pinus sylvestris) 200-300 AF3, CC1, IG26, IG27,

IG29, IM12, IM13, IM15,

LX1, MB2, PM5, TH18

Lime (Tilia) 200-300 HF4, HF6

Beech (Fagus) 150-200 AF1, AF2, AB1, AB2, BF8,

BA7, GB1, HC4, HC5, IG6,

IG7, IG8, IG10, IG11, IG12,

MH11, MH23, TH6

Ash (Fraxinus) 100-150 BB1, DD3, DD4, DD6,

DD8, DD9, DD10, DD11,

FR1, GB7, GB8, HF5,

MH12

Hawthorn (Crataegus) 100-150 AM1

Alder (Alnus) 50-70 IG1, IG15, IG25

Birch (Betula) 50-70 AM2

Table produced from data provided by the British Hardwood Tree Nursery 2012.

380

2.7 – Aira Force Case-Study

Case-study name: Aira Force (AF)

Date of fieldwork: 02/06/2012

Case-study location: Along one of the two main paths leading to Aira Force Waterfall,

Cumbria, England

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): 10 years (pers. comm. Stephen

Dowson, Area Ranger Ullswater, 02/04/2012: ‘The tree was felled for safety reasons beside a

path and visitors started knocking coins in more or less straight away’)

Case-study environment: Woodland

Land ownership: National Trust

Attractions nearby: Aira Force Waterfall

Number of coin-trees/stumps/logs at site: 7 (and one tree with a brass plaque and three

wooden posts with coins)

382

Sites and monuments within 500 metres of coin-tree:

Title Map

No.

Type Location Reference

Number

Description

Cairns,

Glencoyne

Farm

1 Monument Matterdale,

Eden,

Cumbria

NY 389 198

Depositor

ID: 39866

Three Cairns originally identified by

C Whitfield, following the Glasgow

survey has been expanded to include a

further eighteen cairns, stone circle

and a raised platform, these are

distributed to the northwest and

southeast of the site.

Source: Lake District National Park

HER

Cairnfield,

Glencoyne

Farm


Eden,

Cumbria

NY 391 199

Depositor

ID: 39870

A linear distribution of at least 11

single earthfast cairns. Their size

ranged from small circular ones with a

2m diameter to larger more

rectangular examples, up to 8m by

2m, all with protruding rounded stone

boulders, situated on a southeast

facing slope in poorly drained ground.


HER

Roman

Road

3 Monument Gowbarrow

Park Head,

Matterdale,

Eden,

Cumbria

Depositor

ID: 4675

A road of Roman date.


HER

Broad Ridge

and Furrow


Eden,

Cumbria

NY 403 203

Depositor

ID: 15202

Site of broad ridge and furrow and

earthworks of Medieval date.


HER

Aira Beck

Packhorse

Bridge


Eden,

Cumbria

NY 401 201

Depositor

ID: 15203

Post-medieval packhorse bridge,

1540-1901.


HER

Gowbarrow

Park Quarry


Eden,

Cumbria

NY 400 200

Depositor

ID: 11675

Site of a disused quarry of unknown

date.


HER

Source: http://www.heritagegateway.org.uk/gateway/advanced_search.aspx (Accessed 30/03/2012)

http://www.heritagegateway.org.uk/gateway/advanced_search.aspx

384

CLUSTER 1

AF1

Condition: Log

Species: Beech (Fagus)

Associated tools: Five possible tools of percussion: square slate ‘hammer rock’, 1.5 x 10 x

10cm, slight abraded; square limestone rock, 6 x 13 x 15cm, slightly abraded; rounded

sandstone, 10 x 10 x 11cm, slight abraded; rectangular granite rock, 5 x 12 x 20cm, slightly

abraded; and one small, jagged piece of slate, 1 x 3 x 3cm, slightly abraded and located on

top of AF1.

Proximity to path: Directly beside path, west of path

Proximity to river: 36m west of river

Proximity to AF2: 1.03m east of AF2

Proximity to AF3: 1.28m south-east of AF3

Proximity to AF4: 5.54m east of AF4

Proximity to AF5: 10.14m south-east of AF5

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Directly beside one of the two main paths leading to Aira Force Waterfall.

385

Grid reference: NY 40021 29353 (± 13ft)

Latitude: 54.57484 Longitude: 2.92939 (± 13ft)

Elevation: 583ft

Length: 9.5m Girth: 2.92m

Orientation: East to West

Coins: 26,577

Discernible patterning of coins: Primarily running longitudinally along the bark. Roughly ¼

are bent over

Other notable features: One screw, two metal plates engraved with names, one silver and

red token, two nails. Graffiti – ‘Harry’ inscribed on the bark.

Denomination Quantity Dates

1p 15,923 1971, 1971, 1971, 1974, 1974, 1975,

1975, 1976, 1976, 1979, 1980, 1980,

1984, 1984, 1985, 1986, 1987, 1988,

1991, 1991, 1992, 1994, 1997, 1997,

1997, 200-, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2002,

2003, 2003, 2004, 2004, 2005, 2006,

2006, 2007, 2007, 24 x post-2008 (coat-

of-arms design), 2008, 2008, 2009, 2009,

2009, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2011, 2011

2p 8,692 1971, 1971, 1977, 1978, 1978, 1978,

1978, 1978, 1978, 1979, 1979, 1979, 198-,

1980, 1980, 1981, 1981, 1981, 1981,

1985, 1986, 1986, 1987, 1987, 1987,

1987, 1988, 1988, 1988, 1989, 1989,

1989, 1989, 1990, 1990, 1990, 1991,

1994, 1996, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1998,

1998, 1998, 200-, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001,

2001, 2002, 2002, 2003, 2003, 2003,

2003, 2004, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2006,

2006, 2006, 2006, 2007, 2007, 2007, 26 x

post-2008 (coat-of-arms design), 2008,

2009, 2009, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2011,

2011, 2011

5p 987 1991, 20--, 2004, 2008

10p 555 1981, 1992, 1992, 1997, 1997, 1997, 20--,

200-, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2002, 2002,

2003, 2006, 2007, 6 x post-2008 (coat-of-

arms design), 2008, 2008, 2009, 2010,

2010, 2010

20p 237 1982, 1982, 2003, 2004

50p 57 Unknown

£1 1 Unknown

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 16 5 euro cents, 5 euro cents, Danish 50 øre

386

coin, Australian coin 1988, 1 Canadian

cent 1983, 1 American dollar, 1 Russian

rouble 1998, 2 Japanese 10 yen coins, 3

unknown foreign coins, 4 unknown gold

foreign coins

Unknown 126 Unknown

AF2

Condition: Stump


Associated tools: c.f. AF1

Proximity to path: 10.8m east of path

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Very close to one of the two main paths leading to Aira Force Waterfall.



Elevation: 585ft

Height: 73cm Girth: 4.14m

Coins: 1133

Discernible patterning of coins: 1090 coins on top of stump and 43 on side of stump, both

random distribution. C.1/3 of coins are bent over.


1p 608 1979, 200-, 2000, 2003, 2007, 2009

2p 413 1971, 1989, 1998, 20--, 200-, 2001,

2001, 2001, 2004, 2005, 2005, 2009

5p 52 1992, 1996, 2010

10p 38 1980, 200-

20p 15 1982, 2003

50p 1 199-

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 0 -

Unknown 7 Unknown

AF3

Condition: Living tree

Species: Scots pine (Pinus sylvestris)

387



Ease of access: Very close to one of the two main paths leading to Aira Force Waterfall.



Elevation: 585ft

Height of highest coin: 1.78m

Girth: 91cm

Coins: 15

Discernible patterning of coins: Mainly longitudinal distribution. One bent over

Other notable features: Graffiti – an engraving of the name ‘JEM’


1p 7 1994

2p 2 Unknown

5p 4 Unknown

10p 2 2000

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

AF4

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: 15m east of path

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Close to one of the two main paths leading to Aira Force Waterfall, but up a

slight incline and not particularly visible.



Elevation: 586ft

Height: 96cm Girth: 55cm

Coins: 2

388

Discernible patterning of coins: On top of stump. Slightly chipped.


1p 2 1999

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

Also in Cluster 1 was a living tree (Girth 2.55m; elevation 596ft) with a brass plaque screwed

to its bark, reading “keep the kitchen clean, eat out”. It was screwed in at a height of 2m, so

the person probably had to stand on something – and obviously come prepared with a

screwdriver and the plaque itself. Noteworthy: the plaque is facing away from the path

(facing north), so is not visible from the path. It is 8.23m north of AF4.

CLUSTER 2

This cluster consists of three wooden gate/fence posts along the same path as Cluster 1, but

closer to Aira Force Waterfall. Because these are essentially logs, I will include them in my

coin-tree catalogue.

AF5

Condition: Wooden post

Species: n/a


Proximity to path: Directly beside path

Ease of access: The gate post to a gate leading from one path to another, so very easily

accessible.



Elevation: 681ft

Height: 1.67m Girth: 32cm

Coins: 9

Discernible patterning of coins: All on top of post, random distribution.


1p 3 2010

2p 3 Unknown

Aira Force 4

Cluster 1, Aira Force

389

5p 2 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 Unknown

AF6


Species: n/a

Associated tools: One tool of percussion: rectangular limestone ‘hammer rock’, 4 x 9 x

18cm, slightly abraded, on wall beside posts

Proximity to AF7: 1.11m


Ease of access: The gate post to a gate leading from one path to another, so very easily

accessible.



Elevation: 681ft


Coins: 12

Discernible patterning of coins: All on top of post, random distribution.


1p 4 1983, 1989

2p 3 1989, 2003

5p 3 Unknown

10p 2 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

AF7


390

Species: n/a


Proximity to path: Directly beside path.

Ease of access: Easily accessible.



Elevation: 681ft


Coins: 1

Discernible patterning of coins: n/a


1p 0 -

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

29 16%

37 20%

39 21%

75 41%

5 3%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Aira Force

Mode = 2003/2010

Median = 1998

Mean = 1995

391

2.8 – Ardboe Case-Study

Case-study name: Ardboe (AB)


Case-study location: Ardboe, Co. Tyrone, Northern Ireland

Case-study date: late 19th

/early 20th

century – 1973

Case-study environment: Rural cemetery

Land ownership: Northern Ireland Environment Agency

Attractions nearby: Ardboe High Cross, purportedly the first High Cross to have been built

in Ulster

Number of coin-trees/stumps/logs at site: Currently 0. There have been 2 in the past.

16547 59.6%

9114 32.8%

1048 3.8%

597 2.2%

253 0.9%

58 0.2%

1 0.04% 0

16 0.06%

133 0.5%

1p 2p 5p 10p 20p 50P £1 £2 Foreign currency

Unknown

Denominations of Coins at Aira Force

Total = 27767

392


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

High

Cross

1 Monument Ardboe,

Co.

Tyrone

SMR TYR

040:003

“On a promontory on the shores of Lough

Neagh. The cross marks the site of a

monastery associated with St. Colman,

founded perhaps in C6th. Arboe was burnt

in 1166, but later became a medieval

church site [TYR 040:004]. The cross is

the finest in Ulster, with 6 panels on each

side showing scenes from the bible,

including Adam & Eve, the Sacrifice of

Isaac, the Visit of the Magi, Christ in

glory, the Miracle at Cana, Cane & Abel,

David & Goliath & several others - some

too badly weathered to identify.”

Source: Northern Ireland Environment

Agency

Ardboe

Abbey

2 Monument Ardboe,

Co.

Tyrone

SMR TYR

040:004

“This ruined medieval parish church

stands on the site of a pre-Norman

Monastery, founded by St. Colman &

beside the Ardboe high cross, TYR

040:003. It is a rectangular building, 63ft x

19ft, standing in a old, irregular-shaped

graveyard. The walls are 3ft thick. W of

the church in the graveyard are traces of a

small rectangular building. In the NW

corner is a wishing tree, stuck with pins to

record wishes. There is a local story of a

bullaun stone resting on the shoreline. It

could not be located.”


Agency

Abbey

Cellar

3 Monument Ardboe,

Co.

Tyrone

SMR TYR

040:005

“In the field above the shore of Lough

Neagh, 200 yards NE of Ardboe High

Cross [TYR 040:003]. The site consists of

the remains of a small rectangular

building, 38'6" x 24ft,of rough stones. The

door was on the W, but the building is too

ruined to give any further information. A

short way to N are 3 sides of a very

substantially built rectangular structure,

partly backing against the bluff, known as

the cellar; it probably formed part of the

monastic establishment.”


Agency

Source: http://apps.ehsni.gov.uk/ambit/Default.aspx (Accessed 10/04/2012)

http://apps.ehsni.gov.uk/ambit/Default.aspx

393

ARDBOE 1

Condition (at time of use): Living tree


Associated tools: Rocks were apparently used for hammering the coins and pins in (Rose

Ryan, Muintirevlin Historical Society, pers. comm. 07/04/2012)

Ease of access: Very easy. In the corner of the cemetery, easy to reach.

Grid reference: NW 09283 34263 (± 9ft)

Latitude: 54.61956 Longitude: -6.50520 (± 9ft)

Elevation: 85ft

Remaining fragments: Pat Grimes, local resident and author, salvaged a fragment in 1974.

All that remains, however, are 79 coins, which he keeps in a cup by his front door.

Damaged edges of coins: 26 of the 79 coins were bent/crooked. 3 coins bore neat holes,

suggesting that they were worn as charms.


Halfpenny 25 1920, 1939, 1940, 1940,

1941, 1941, 1943, 1943,

1943, 1945, 1949, 1952,

1958, 1958, 1958, 1959,

1960, 1960, 1963, 1963,

1965, 1965, 1967, 1967

One Penny

(pre-decimalisation)

44 1899, 1901, 1903, 1906,

1907, 1909, 1910, 1911,

1911, 1913, 1915, 1916,

1917, 1917, 1917, 1918,

1919, 1919, 1919, 1919,

1920, 1920, 1920, 1921,

394

1921, 1921, 1921, 1927,

1929, 1935, 1936, 1937,

1938, 1938, 1939, 1944,

1945, 1947, 1967, 1967,

1967, 1967

Shilling 1 1948

2p (post-decimalisation) 1 1971

Eire 1p 5 1941, 1942, 1963, 1963

Eire 2p 2 1942, 1943

Foreign coinage 1 American cent 1964

Unknown 0 -

1 1%

6 8%

16 22%

6 8%

9 11%

15 20%

7 10%

13 18%

1 1%

Dates of Coins from Ardboe 1 Mode = 1967

Median = 1940

Mean = 1937

25 32%

44 56%

1 1%

1 1%

5 6% 2

3% 1

1%

Halfpenny One Penny (pre-dec.)

Shilling 2p (post-dec.)

Eire 1p Eire 2p Foreign coinage

Denominations of Coins from Ardboe 1

Total = 79

395

ARDBOE 2

Case-study date: 1974 - 1997



Associated tools: Rocks were apparently used for hammering the coins and pins in (Rose

Ryan, Muintirevlin Historical Society, pers. comm. 07/04/2012)

Ease of access: Originally very easy. In the corner of the graveyard, easy to reach.

Grid reference: NW 09283 34263 (± 9ft)

Latitude: 54.61956

Longitude: -6.50520 (± 9ft)

Elevation: 85ft

REMAINING SECTIONS OF ARDBOE 2:

SECTION 1

A section was salvaged by the Muintirevlin Historical Society and stored at Coyle’s Cottage.

Height: 21cm

Girth: 252cm

Diameter: 73cm

Coins: 330

Other objects inserted: 3 nails, 1 screw, 2 unidentifiable metal objects

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinal. Roughly 1/3 are bowed


Halfpenny 3 1956, 1962, 1966

One penny

(pre-decimalisation)

4 1912, 1922, 1964, 1970

Eire 1p 2 1945, 1947

1p (post-decimalisation) 213 1975, 1990

2p 222 1981, 1986, 1986, 1990,

1991

5p 8 Unknown

10p 5 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 4 Unknown

Unknown 59 Unknown

396

SECTION 2

A section was salvaged by the Ulster Folk and Transport Museum.

Length: 45cm

Girth: 82cm

Coins: 69

Other objects inserted: None

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinal


1p 27 1990

2p 30 1987, 1989, 1994

5p 7 Unknown

10p 1 Unknown

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 3 Unknown

1 5%

1 5%

0

2 10%

1 5%

4 20%

1 5%

8 40%

2 10%

Dates of Coins from Ardboe 2

Mode = 1990

Median = 1975

Mean = 1970

397

2.9 – Ardmaddy Case-Study

Case-study name: Ardmaddy (AM)

Date of fieldwork: 06/09/2012 and 02/09/2013-05/09/2013

Case-study location: Situated on a path up the Bealach Gaoithe above Ardmaddy Castle,

Argyll, Scotland

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): Charles Struthers: ‘We have no real

idea how old the tree is – but Hawthorns live for about 80 years and therefore I would

presume that the tree is not much older than that. When I was a boy here in the 50’s the tree

was prolific and could well have been 20-30 years old then.’ (pers. comm. 21/12/2011). A

historical map shows ‘The Wishing Tree’ in the 1970s. It fell during the 1990s, and Charles

Struthers erected an enclosure around it shortly afterwards.

The track itself was probably established between 1830s-1880s – it does not appear on an

1832 map but does appear on an 1883 map

Case-study environment: Situated beside a rough track on a hillside, known as the ‘Windy

Pass’

Land ownership: Ardmaddy Estate

3 0.5%

4 0.7%

2 0.3%

240 41%

252 43%

15 2.5%

6 1%

1 0.2%

4 0.7%

62 11%

Denominations of Coins from Ardboe 2

Total = 589

398

Attractions nearby: Ardmaddy Castle

Number of coin-trees/stumps/logs at site: 2.

4 fragments have broken away from the primary coin-tree, AM1, measuring: 1.54m in length

(Girth: 75cm); 60cm in length (too decayed to ascertain a Girth); 1.6m in length (Girth:

50cm); and 87cm in length (Girth: 30cm). Together with the main body of the tree (data

below), these fragments shall be considered as one whole coin-tree.

Additionally, a young offshoot, which stands directly over AM1, has become a rag-tree, its

branches affixed with 21 white ribbons, 1 red ribbon, 1 piece of blue string. There is a pink

ribbon on the ground.

There are 3 branches stored at Ardmaddy Castle.

Sites and monuments within 500 metres of coin-trees(s): According to Canmore, the

Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland, there are no

historical sites or monuments within 500 metres of the coin-tree (Accessed 16/09/2012)

400

AM1

Condition: Log

Species: Hawthorn, Crataegus

Associated tools: Three possible tools of percussion: 8x7x21cm; 13x15x8cm; 16x7x7cm


Class of decay: 4

Ease of access: Easily accessible from the path, requiring only a climb over a stile

Orientation: North to south

Grid reference: NM 78880 15191 (±12ft)

Latitude: 56.27758 Longitude: -5.57349 (±12ft)

Elevation: 528ft


Coins: 1592

Discernible patterning of coins: Predominantly longitudinally distributed. However, many

are simply resting loosely on top of bole. Many damaged through percussion, as well as

several having been deliberately bent over.

Other notable features: A white shell has been left atop the main bole. Many coins showing

signs of verdigrease, making them appear older than they actually are. Two horseshoes – one

modern, the other older – have been inserted into the main fork of the tree, and the older one

appears to have been swallowed slightly by the bark (indicating how long it has been there).

Beneath the modern horseshoe, a chewing-gum wrapper has been embedded. Also a note

written on the reverse of a Czech Republic pharmacy receipt, dated to 13.12.12, is neatly

folded and held in place on the coin-tree via some coins: opening with ‘Dear Wishing Tree’,

the depositor wishes for romance (a long list of the desired qualities of a partner are given).


Pre-decimalisation one

penny

90 196-, 1962, 1962, 1962, 1965, 1965, 1966,

1967, 1967

Shilling 2 1958

1p 688 1971, 1971, 1979, 1987, 1988, 1989, 1994,

1994, 1995, 1998, 1998, 1998, 1998, 1999,

20--, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2002, 2002, 2003,

2003, 2004, 2004, 2005, 2006, 8 x post-2008

(coat-of-arms design), 2009, 2011, 2011

2p 640 1971, 1971, 1979, 1979, 1980, 1980, 1981,

1986, 1986, 1987, 1987, 1987, 1988, 1989,

1989, 1989, 1989, 1990, 1990, 1992, 1993,

1994, 1996, 1997, 1997, 1998, 1999, 2000,

2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2001,

2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2002, 2002, 2002,

2002, 2004, 2004, 2004, 2004, 2005, 2005,

2005, 2007, 2007, 2007, 6 x post-2008

401

(coat-of-arms design), 2008, 2008

5p 44 1990, 1990, 1992, 1995, 1999, 2001, 2002,

2003, 2003, 2004, 2006, 2006, 2013

10p 53 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1995, 1997, 1997,

1997, 1999, 1999, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002,

2002, 2003, 2005, 2005, post-2008 (coat-of-

arms design)

20p 26 198-, 1982, 1982, 1990, 1993, 1998, 2002,

2006

50p 5 1997, 1998

£1 1 1983

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 5 1 euro cent, 1 euro cent, 5 euro cents 2006,

20 euro cent 2002, 2 South African rand

199-, 1 French franc (pre-2002)

Unknown 39 Unknown

AM2

Condition: Living

Species: Beech, Betula

Associated tools: None

Proximity to path: 436cm south-east of track

Class of decay: na

Ease of access: Easily accessible from the track

Visibility: Not obvious as a coin-tree from the track

Grid reference: NM 79095 15712 (±19ft)


Elevation: 515ft

Girth: 224cm

Coins: 103

Discernible patterning of coins: Predominantly on north-west side of tree, facing the track.

Many damaged through percussion, as well as several having been deliberately bent over.

Highest coin: 273cm, 1p

Lowest coin: 12cm, 10p 2001

Other notable features: Some appear to have been there for so long that the bark has

swallowed them, leaving only slivers of blue-green metal visible.


Pre-decimalisation 1 2 Unknown

402

penny

Pre-1990 5p 1 Pre-1990

1p 40 1987, 1990, 1990, post-2008

2p 30 1981

5p 10 2009

10p 12 2001

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 1 French franc

Unknown 6 Unknown

AM Branch 1

Location: Propped up on a shelf above a sink in the Games Room of Ardmaddy Castle,

touching Branch 2

Length: 139cm Girth: 43cm

Coins: 45


Pre-decimalisation 1

penny

4 Unknown

1p 19 Unknown

2p 18 1979, 1981

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 4 Unknown

AM Branch 2

Location: Propped up on a shelf above a sink in the Games Room of Ardmaddy Castle,

touching Branch 1


Coins: 42



penny

3 Unknown

1p 20 Unknown

403

2p 16 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 2 Unknown

Box in front of AM Branches 1 and 2

Coins: 83



penny

0 -

1p 31 1971, 1971, 1980, 1986, 1987, 1989, 1989,

1989, 1990, 1993, 1996, 1996, 1999, 2000,

2000, 2001, 2003, 2004, 2004, 2004, 2005,

2006, 2007, 2008, 2008, 2009, 2009, 2009,

2010, 2010, 2010

2p 32 1971, 1971, 1977, 1980, 1980, 1986, 1989,

1989, 1989, 1989, 1990, 1994, 1994, 1998,

1998, 1998, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2002,

2004, 2004, 2004, 2004, 2005, 2007, 2007,

2010

5p 6 1990, 1991, 1991, 1992, 1994, 2005

10p 8 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 2005,

2006

20p 2 1982, 2007

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 4 5 euro cents 2006, 5 Canadian cents, Jersey

1p 1986, United Arab Emirates

Unknown 0 -

AM Branch 3

Location: Outside the front door of Ardmaddy Castle amidst other decorative ‘curiosities’


Coins: 23

404



penny

18 1932

Halfpenny 1 Unknown

1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 3 Unknown

1 0.5% 0

1 0.5%

7 3%

15 7%

39 18%

69 32%

86 39%

1 0.5%

Dates of Coins at Ardmaddy

117 6% 1

0.05% 2

0.1%

799 42% 736

39%

61 3%

74 4%

29 2%

5 0.3%

1 0.05% 0

10 0.5%

54 3%

Denominations of Coins at Ardmaddy

Total = 1889

Mode = 2001

Median = 1998

Mean = 1995

405

2.10 – Arnside Knott Case-Study

Case-study name: Arnside Knott (AK)


Case-study location: Arnside, Cumbria, England

Case-study date: 2000s (pers. comm. Stephen Bradley, Ranger of South & East Cumbria

and Morecombe Bay, 04/05/2012).

Case-study environment: It is at an elevation of 607ft, close to the 655ft summit of Arnside

Knott, Britain’s smallest ‘Marilyn’ (a hill within the British Isles with a relative height of at

least 492ft)

Land ownership: The National Trust

Attractions nearby: The summit of Arnside Knott

Number of coin-trees/stumps/logs at site: 1 coin-tree, consisting of 2 trees knotted together

The history of the Knotted Trees: These two larches (Lariz) are both branchless and dead,

but they are still rooted in place and are still firmly knotted together, with one tree curving

towards the other, forming a ‘h’ shape. They are known locally as the ‘Knotted Trees’, and it

is believed that the hill, Arnside Knott, derives its name from them. They have stood close to

the summit of Arnside Knott for roughly 150 years (pers. comm. Stephen Bradley,

04/05/2012). They were knotted together at some point during Victorian times (Evans 1986:

100), but why and by whom is unknown.

406


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Arnside Tower 1 Monument Arnside,

Cumbria Monument No.

(SD 47 NE 12)

Medieval/post-medieval tower

house, probably built in the 15th

century, visible as a ruined

building on aerial photographs.

Source: PastScape

Boundary

Stone

2 Monument Arnside,


1002470

Post-medieval boundary stone

incorporated in the field wall

adjacent to the road.

Source: PastScape

Quarry 3 Monument Arnside,


1002527

Post-medieval quarry, possible

mineral workings.

Source: PastScape

Ironstone

workings

4 Monument Arnside,


1002531

Possible post-medieval

ironstone extraction site.

Source: PastScape

Charcoal 5 Monument Arnside,


1002553

Four post-medieval charcoal

burning platforms.

Source: PastScape

Terraced

platform

6 Monument Arnside,


1002600

Very large terraced platform.

Source: PastScape

Limestone

quarry

7 Monument Arnside,


1002607

A circular depression,

measuring 6m across and 0.5m

deep, with an associated bank,

probably a post-medieval

quarry and spoil heap.

Source: PastScape

Ridge and

furrow

8 Monument Arnside,


1487365

Post-medieval ridge and furrow,

visible as earthworks on aerial

photography.

Source: PastScape

Quarries 9 Monument Arnside,


1487379

Two post-medieval quarries,

visible as earthworks on aerial

photography.

Source: PastScape



407

AK1

Condition: Dead but still standing

Species: Larch (Larix)

Associated tools: It is beside a scree path and so there are many rocks nearby. Four,

however, were in very close proximity to the tree and were large enough to have been used as

percussion tools: a jagged and minimally abraded limestone ‘hammer rock’, 6 x 5 x 3cm; a

rectangular and minimally abraded limestone ‘hammer rock’, 7 x 4 x 2cm; a rectangular and

minimally abraded limestone ‘hammer rock’, 7 x 5 x 1cm; and a square limestone ‘hammer

rock’ with no visible damage, 8 x 6 x 2cm.

Proximity to path: 747cm north-north-west of a main path leading to the summit of Arnside

Knott

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easily accessible from the path and highly visible, although the coins

themselves are not visible from the path.

Latitude: 54.18982 Longitude: 2.83687

Elevation: 607ft

Height: 365cm Girth of bole 1: 70cm Girth of bole 2: 50cm

Highest coin: A 1p inserted into the arch of the two twisted boles at a height of 201cm, just

reachable.

408

Grid reference: SD 45491 77439 ±11ft

Coins: 79

Discernible patterning of coins: The majority of them were inserted into longitudinal pre-

existing cracks in the boles. One 10p was found on the ground beside the coin-tree, obviously

having been dislodged.


1p 32 1984, 199?, 1996, 1997, 2000, 2003, 2003,

2006, 2006, 2007, post-2008 (coat of arms

design), 2010, 2011

2p 24 1981, 1990, 1992, 1992, 2000, 2001, 2006,

2009

5p 9 2004, post-2008 x 2 (coat of arms design)

10p 11 2000, 2000, post-2008 (coat of arms design)

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 United Arab Emirates (denomination

unknown)

Unknown 2 Unknown

0

3 14%

8 38%

9 43%

1 5%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

The Dates of the Coins at Arnside Knott

Mode: 2000

Median: 2000

Mean: 2000

32 40% 24

30%

9 11%

11 14% 1

1% 0 0 0

1 1%

2 2%

The Denominations of the Coins at Arnside Knott

Left: The Knotted Trees

of Arnside Knott. Mode: 2000

Median: 2000

Mean: 2000

Total = 80

409

2.11 – Becky Falls Case-Study

Case-study name: Becky Falls (BF)


Case-study location: Becky Falls, Dartmoor, Devon, England

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): Prior to 2008 (pers. comm. Jeremy

Harte, 11/09/2012)

Case-study environment: Riverside woodland

Land ownership: Dartmoor National Park

Attractions nearby: Becky Falls

Number of coin-trees/stumps/logs at site: 16

410

Sites and monuments within 500 metres of coin-trees(s):

Title Type Location Reference

Number

Description

Monument

No. 444978

Monument Manaton,

Teignbridge,

Devon

Monument

No. 444978

Site of alleged stone row and cairn of

uncertain date

Source: PastScape

Monument

No. 445619

Monument Manaton,

Teignbridge,

Devon

Monument

No. 445619

Deserted Medieval site, with building and

enclosure, known as West Beckham

Source: PastScape



412

CLUSTER 1

BF1

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: No obvious hammer rocks

Proximity to path: Directly beside path, south of path

Proximity to BF2: Touching

Proximity to BF3: 68cm


Class of decay: 4

Ease of access: Easily accessible

Orientation: E-W

Grid reference: SX 76374 79968 (±16ft)


Elevation: 662ft

Length: 420cm Girth BF1a: 64cm Girth BF1b: 73cm

Coins: 3208

Discernible patterning of coins: Many are longitudinal but many are just placed on top of

log rather than inserted. Some signs of percussion.


1p 1598 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1973, 1973, 1973, 1974, 1979,

1979, 1979, 1979, 1981, 1981, 1981, 1981, 1981, 1983, 1985,

1985, 1986, 1986, 1986, 1986, 1987, 1989, 1989, 1989, 1989,

1990, 1990, 1990, 1991, 1991, 1991, 1993, 1993, 1993, 1994,

1996, 1996, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997,

1997, 1998, 1998, 1999, 1999, 1999, 1999, 200-, 200-, 200-,

2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2001,

2001, 2002, 2002, 2002, 2002, 2002, 2002, 2003, 2003, 2003,

2003, 2004, 2004, 2004, 2004, 2004, 2005, 2005, 2006, 2006,

2006, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2008, 2008,

2008, 2008, 2008, 45xpost-2008, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2009,

2009, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2010,

2010, 201-, 2011, 2011, 2011, 2011, 2011, 2012, 2012, 2012

2p 1169 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1975, 1977, 1977,

1978, 1979, 1979, 1979, 1981, 1981, 1981, 1985, 1985, 1986,

1986, 1986, 1986, 1988, 1988, 1988, 1989, 1989, 1989, 1990,

1990, 1990, 1990, 1990, 1991, 1991, 1991, 1992, 1992, 1993,

1994, 1995, 1995, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997,

1997, 1998, 1998, 1998, 1999, 1999, 1999, 1999, 20--, 200-,

2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2002,

413

2002, 2002, 2002, 2002, 2003, 2003, 2003, 2004, 2004, 2004,

2004, 2004, 2005, 2005, 2005, 2005, 2006, 2006, 2006, 2006,

2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2008, 2008, 2008, 2008,

39xpost-2008, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2009,

2010, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2010, 201-, 2011, 2011, 2011,

2011, 2012, 2012

5p 222 1989, 1990, 1990, 1990, 1992, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1998,

1999, 1999, 20--, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2002,

2004, 2007, 2007, 2008, 2008, 12xpost-2008, 2009, 2010,

2010, 2010, 2012, 2012

10p 163 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1995, 1996, 1996, 1996, 1997, 2000,

2000, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2002, 2002, 2004, 2006, 2006, 2007,

2008, 5xpost-2008, 2010, 2010, 2011, 2011, 2011

20p 42 1985, 1988, 1988, 1992, 2006, 2006, 2007, 2009, 2010, 2010,

2011, 2011

50p 2 Post-2008

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign

currency

3 1 euro, 1 euro cent, 1 American cent

Unknown 9 Unknown

Coins on floor around BF1: 143


1p 63 1974, 1979, 1979, 1981, 1986, 1988, 1989, 1990, 1990, 1990,

1991, 1991, 1991, 1993, 1996, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997,

1998, 1999, 1999, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2002, 2002,

2002, 2004, 2004, 2005, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2007,

2008, 2008, 2008, 2008, 2008, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2009,

2009, 2009, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2011,

2011

2p 58 1971, 1977, 1979, 1980, 1986, 1986, 1989, 1990, 1990, 1990,

1991, 1991, 1995, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1998, 1998,

1998, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2003, 2004,

2004, 2006, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2008, 2008, 2008, 2008,

2009, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2010, 2010, 2010,

2010, 2010, 2010, 2011, 2012

5p 12 1992, 1992, 1995, 1997, 1997, 2001, 2001, 2002, 2006, 2009,

2010, 2012

10p 8 1992, 1997, 1997, 2000, 2001, 2008, 2010, 2012

20p 2 1982, 2000

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign

currency

0 -

Unknown 0 -

414

BF2

Condition: Living

Species: Birch (Betula)

Associated tools: No





Elevation: 662ft

Girth BF2a: 24cm Girth BF2b: 11cm

Coins: 7

Highest coin: 183cm

Discernible patterning of coins: Random.


1p 4 1 x post-2008

2p 1 1992

5p 2 1 x post-2008

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

BF3

Condition: Wooden information post

Species: n/a




Orientation: n/a

Grid Reference: SX 76374 79968 (±16ft)


415

Elevation: 662ft

Height: 120cm

Coins: 5

Discernible patterning of coins: Inserted longitudinally up the post in one line.


1p 4 200-, 2003

2p 0 -

5p 1 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

BF4

Condition: Living

Species: Oak (Quercus)


Proximity to path: Directly beside path, north of path




Elevation: 662ft

Girth: 197cm

Coins: 37

Highest coin: 190cm



1p 16 2001, 2005, 4 x post-2008, 2011

2p 14 1981, 1993, 1994, 1994, 2000, 2007, post-

2008

5p 4 Unknown

10p 3 1992, 2008

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

416

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

BF5

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood





Class of decay: 4


Orientation: SE-NW



Elevation: 662ft


Coins: 6



1p 3 2000, 2006

2p 2 1979

5p 1 2007

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

BF6

Condition: Stump (carved like a chair)

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: One likely hammer rock: 6.5x6x4.5cm, with signs of abrasion

417


Class of decay: 3


Orientation: n/a



Elevation: 662ft


Coins: 402

Discernible patterning of coins: Random

Other notable features: Many coins placed on top loosely.


1p 222 1971, 1971, 1974, 1975, 1975, 1980, 1980,

1981, 1986, 1986, 1988, 1990, 1990, 1991,

1992, 1993, 1993, 1994, 1995, 1997, 1998,

1998, 1999, 1999, 1999, 1999, 200-, 200-,

2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001,

2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2002, 2002, 2002,

2002, 2003, 2004, 2004, 2004, 2004, 2004,

2006, 2006, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2008,

2008, 2008, 2008, 2008, 19xpost-2008,

2009, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2010, 2010, 2010,

2010, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2011, 2011,

2011, 2011, 2011, 2011

2p 118 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1975, 1975, 1980,

1980, 1981, 1981, 1987, 1987, 1988, 1988,

1989, 1990, 1990, 1994, 1994, 1995, 1996,

1996, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1998,

1998, 1999, 1999, 1999, 1999, 2000, 2000,

2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001,

2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2002, 2003,

2003, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2005, 2006, 2007,

18xpost-2008, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2012

5p 36 1990, 1995, 1998, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000,

2000, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2004, 2005, 2006,

1xpost-2008, 2010, 2012, 2012, 2012

10p 16 1992, 1992, 1997, 2000, 2005, 2005, 2 x

post-2008, 2009, 2009

20p 6 2007

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 4 1 euro cent, 5 euro cents, American cent

418

1978, unknown foreign coin

Unknown 0 -

Coins on ground around BF6: 19


1p 12 1981, 1990, 1992, 1992, 1995, 1997, 2000,

2003, 2004, 2005, 2005, 2007

2p 7 1979, 1997, 2001, 2002, 2007, 2007, 2010

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

BF7

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Directly south of path

Class of decay: 3


Orientation: N-S



Elevation: 662ft


Height from path: 37cm

Coins: 21

Discernible patterning of coins: In log end.


1p 11 2003, 2008, 2012

2p 4 1997, 2012

5p 4 1991, 2003

10p 2 2000

419

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

BF8








Elevation: 666ft

Girth: 74cm

Coins: 8


Other notable features: Graffiti: ‘V’, ‘F’, ‘NI’, ‘BC 4 HS’


1p 5 1986

2p 3 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

BF9

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Directly north of path

420

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 664ft


Coins: 4



1p 2 1998

2p 2 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

CLUSTER 2

BF10

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood




Class of decay: 3


Orientation: N-S



Elevation: 677ft


Coins: 3

421



1p 1 Unknown

2p 1 Unknown

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

CLUSTER 2

BF11

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Directly north-east of path

Class of decay: 3


Orientation: W-E



Elevation: 677ft


Coins: 2

Discernible patterning of coins: In log end


1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

422

STAND-ALONE

BF12

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Directly north-east of path

Class of decay: 4


Orientation: E-W



Elevation: 680ft


Coins: 1

Discernible patterning of coins: Placed on top of log on west end


1p 0 -

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 1 1989

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

BF13

Condition: Uprooted stump

Species: Hardwood



Class of decay: 3


423

Orientation: NE-SW



Elevation: 680ft


Length: 496cm

Coins: 2

Discernible patterning of coins: Lodged loosely in the roots


1p 0 -

2p 2 1977, 1994

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

CLUSTER 3

BF14

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: 140cm south-east of path

Proximity to river: 486cm north-west of river

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 683ft


Coins: 4

Discernible patterning of coins: On top of stump

424


1p 1 Unknown

2p 3 1998, post-2008

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

CLUSTER 3

BF15

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Directly north-west of path

Proximity to river: Directly south-east of river

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 683ft


Coins: 2



1p 0 -

2p 2 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

425

STAND-ALONE

BF16

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: 56cm south-west of path

Proximity to river: 540cm north-east of river

Class of decay: 3


Orientation: E-W



Elevation: 697ft


Coins: 10



1p 6 2008, 2 x post-2008

2p 3 2001

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

426

2.12 – Bolton Abbey Case-Study

Case-study name: Bolton Abbey


Case-study location: Bolton Abbey Estate, Yorkshire, England

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): c.1991-1996 (pers. comm. Moira

Smith, Visitor’s Manager, 11/11/2011)


Land ownership: Bolton Abbey Estate

53 8%

82 13%

174 27%

289 45%

42 7%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Becky Falls

1949 50%

1389 36%

285 7%

192 5%

51 1.3%

2 0.05% 0 0

7 0.18%

9 0.23%

Denominations of Coins at Becky Falls

Mode = 2000

Median = 2001

Mean = 1999

Total = 3884

427

Attractions nearby: Bolton Priory


428


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Monument

No. 558355

1 Monument Bolton Abbey,

Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument No.

558355

Medieval fishpond/tanning

pit.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No.

1166612


Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument No.

1166612

The remains of the guest

house to Bolton Priory, 1400-

1499. The guest house was

located to the south west of

the cloister and only a

fireplace and chimney stack

remain as standing ruins.

Scheduled and Listed Grade

II.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No.

1168076


Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument No.

1168076

The remains of a medieval

reservoir on the hillside to the

west of Bolton Priory, 1155-

1539.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No.

1367083


Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument No.

1367083

Numerous Medieval

earthworks within the

precinct of Bolton Priory are

visible on air photographs.

9These features include

boundary banks and ditches,

429

terraced ground, pits and

mounds, and a small area of

Medieval earthwork ridge and

furrow.

Source: PastScape

Bolton

Priory


Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument No.

(SE 05 SE 1)

Medieval Augustinian

monastery, founded in 1155.

Source: PastScape

Great Barn 6 Monument Bolton Abbey,

Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument No.

(SE 05 SE

113)

A medieval tithe barn to

Bolton Priory, situated to the

south west of the monastic

precinct in a barnyard

complex.

Source: PastScape

The Old

Rectory


Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument No.

(SE 95 SE

115)

The extant remains of the

infirmary to Bolton Priory,

dating to the 15th century.

Source: PastScape

Land at

Bolton Hall

8 Site Bolton Abbey,

Craven, North

Yorkshire

Depositor ID:

1593516

Monitoring of groundworks

for new gates recorded a

cobbled surface and medieval

finds in front of Bolton Hall.

Source: NMR Excavation

Index

Housekeep

er’s Flat


Craven, North

Yorkshire

Depositor ID:

1331046

Post-medieval site.


Index

Bolton

Abbey Hall


Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument No.

(SE 05 SE 3)

Post medieval country house,

1700-1843, and medieval

gatehouse, 1300-1399.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No. 558439


Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument No.

558439

Post-medieval fishpond,

1540-1901.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No. 558436


Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument No.

558436

Post-medieval pound, 1854.

Source: PastScape

Bolton

Abbey


Craven, North

Yorkshire

Depositor ID:

1024547

Service trench across

medieval and post medieval

churchyard, observed some

time between 1970 and 1990.


Index

Monument

No.

1367099

14 Monument Beamsley,

Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument No.

1367099

A mound of uncertain date is

visible as an earthwork on air

photographs. This feature is

8.6m in diameter.

Source: PastScape



431

CLUSTER 1

BA1

Condition: Decayed fragment. Poor condition.

Species: Unknown


Proximity to path: Directly beside the main path

Proximity to BA2: 32cm east of it

Proximity to Case-Study BA3: 33cm east of it

Class of decay: 4

Ease of access: Very easy

Grid reference: SE 07923 54556 (± 10 ft)


Elevation: 382ft


Coins: 28



1p 10 Unknown

432

2p 9 Unknown

5p 1 Unknown

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 Canadian coin (denomination

unknown)

Unknown 6 Unknown

BA2

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood



Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 382ft


Coins: 92



1p 40 1993, 20--, 2004

2p 32 1990, 2000

5p 1 Unknown

10p 2 Unknown

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 1 American cent

Unknown 15 Unknown

433

BA3

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood



Class of decay: 3


Proximity to BA1: 33cm (to the west of it)

Proximity to BA3: Touching (to the west of it)



Elevation: 382ft


Coins: 1985

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinal. Many show signs of percussion


1p 976 1996, 1998, 1999, 1999,

200-, 200-, 2001, 2001, 2004,

2007, 2007, 2011

2p 859 1980, 1981, 1987, 1988,

1989, 1992, 1997, 2000,

2000, 2001, 2007, 2011,

2011

5p 53 Unknown

10p 32 Unknown

20p 4 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 2 1 American dime, unknown

Unknown 59 Unknown

BA4

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood



434

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Difficult to access; had to climb up the side of the stump to reach the coins



Elevation: 382ft


Coins: 14



1p 5 Unknown

2p 7 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 2 Unknown

CLUSTER 2

BA5

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: Sandstone ‘hammer rock’, 9x12x8cm, situated on the ground between

case-studies 10.5 and 10.6


Class of decay: 2

Proximity to BA6: 1.2m

Proximity to BA7: 1.1m

Proximity to BA8: Directly over it

Proximity to BA9: Touching

Proximity to BA10: Touching

Ease of access: The path-facing side, where the coins are denser, is very easy to access; the

opposite side is much more difficult, requiring balancing on a steep slope by holding onto the

tree itself

435



Elevation: 378 ft


Coins: 12,603

Discernible patterning of coins: Predominantly longitudinal. Many show signs of

percussion and are bent over


1p 5884

1973, 1980, 1981, 1988,

1988, 1990, 1998, 199-,

1999, 20--, 2000, 2000, 2000,

2002, 2009

2p 4325 1977, 1979, 1980, 1980,

1980, 1981, 1981, 1987,

1987, 1988, 1988, 1989, 199-

, 1994, 1994, 1996, 1996,

200-, 200-, 200-, 2000, 2000,

2000, 2002, 2003, 2004,

2007, 2011, 2011

5p 164 2006

10p 116 1997, 2000, 2008

20p 18 2000

50p 5 1998 (NHS fiftieth

anniversary)

£1 1 Unknown

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 4 Canadian coin (denomination

unknown), euro coin, Polish

5 groszy, unknown

Unknown 2086 Unknown

BA6

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


case-studies BA5 and BA6


Class of decay: 3



436


Elevation: 378 ft


Coins: 1404

Discernible patterning of coins: Predominantly longitudinal


1p 669 1988, 1998, 2000

2p 627 1978, 199-, 199-, 1991, 1997,

2000, 2001, 2005

5p 30 Unknown

10p 24 Unknown

20p 2 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 52 Unknown

BA7





Proximity to path: 35cm




Elevation: 378 ft

Girth: 48cm

Coins: 7



1p 3 Unknown

2p 3 Unknown

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

437

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

BA8

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood



Proximity to path: 1.5m

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Difficult; it is situated down a steep slope.

Grid Reference: SE 07999 54746 (± 9 ft)


Elevation: 378 ft


Coins: 5

Discernible patterning of coins: On log end


1p 3 Unknown

2p 2 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

BA9

Condition: Log (stump)

Species: Hardwood



438

Proximity to path: Directly beside it

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easy, although because some of it is hidden beneath 10.5, not all of it is

accessible or visible



Elevation: 378 ft


Coins: 81

Discernible patterning of coins: Radial on top of stump


1p 42 1990, 2003

2p 32 1985, 1992, 1992

5p 0

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 6 Unknown

BA10

Condition: Log (half buried)

Species: Unknown




Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easy, although because half of it is buried (being used as a path boundary),

not all of it is accessible or visible



Elevation: 378 ft

Length: 404cm

Coins: 4

439



1p 3 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

CLUSTER 3

BA11

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: 2.4m from the main path

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: It is easy to reach from the path, although not particularly visible



Elevation: 384 ft


Coins: 10



1p 4 Unknown

2p 4 200-

5p 1 2009

10p 0 -

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

440

CLUSTER 4

BA12

Condition: Log (fallen stump)

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: 2.4m from the main path

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: It is easy to reach from the path, although not particularly visible



Elevation: 387 ft


Coins: 4

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on log end, using natural cracks


1p 1 Unknown

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 1 Unknown

9 11%

18 21%

33 39%

20 24%

5 6%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Bolton Abbey

Mode = 2000

Median = 1998

Mean = 1996

Key

441

2.13 – Brock Bottom Case-Study

Case-study name: Brock Bottom (BB)


Case-study location: Brock Valley, Forest of Bowland, Lancashire, England

Case-study date: The tree was brought down by winds in 2007. It was cleared from the path

and left as an informal bench; shortly after, people began knocking coins into it (pers. comm.

Greg Robinson, Countryside Ranger, Wyre Council, 19/04/2012)

Case-study environment: Woodland and river

Land ownership: Managed by Wyre Council

Attractions nearby: Brock Bottom Mill


Sites and monuments within 500 metres of coin-tree: According to Heritage Gateway,

there are no sites or monuments within 500 metres of BB1

7640 47%

5901 36%

252 1.6%

177 1.09%

26 0.16%

5 0.03%

1 0.006%

8 0.05%

2227 14%

1p 2p 5p 10p 20p 50p £1 Foreign currency

Unknown

Denominations of Coins at Bolton Abbey

Total = 16237

442

BB1

Condition: Log

Species: Ash (Fraxinus)

Associated tools: Many small, rounded stones on the ground around the log, but no obvious

tools of percussion

Proximity to path: Directly beside the path, south-west of path

Proximity to river: 318cm south-west of the River Brock

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easily accessible, directly beside main path


Latitude: 53.87572 Longitude: 2.69060 ±18ft

Elevation: 259ft

Orientation: Laid out north-south

Length: 10m Girth: 181cm

Coins: 896

Discernible patterning of coins: The majority of coins on top of log, following the grain and

pre-existing cracks, longitudinal distribution. 6 coins on log-end, random distribution. Only

443

13 coins were inserted into the southern-end (root-end) of the log, where the bark is still

intact. The rest are inserted into the top of the log where the bark has fallen away. 60-70% of

coins are bent over.

Other notable features: Much graffiti has been inscribed into the bark. Examples include:

‘DAZ’; ‘RNLR’; ‘DC 4 ZW 4EVA’; ‘2011 LOMAS’; ‘LOTTIE’; ‘AKIRA’; ‘HAN 23.4.12’.

In some cases, coins have been incorporated into the graffiti – although it is unclear whether

the coins were inserted before the graffiti, after, or at the same time. There are two arrows

pointing to two different coins; one arrow has ‘E’ next to it, indicating a preoccupation with

identifying the coins as theirs?

Additionally, it is interesting to note that even though there is still plenty of space on this log,

people have still chosen to insert their coins into tight clusters; perhaps groups wanting their

coins to be clustered together?


1p 399 1980, 199-, 1998, 1998, 1999, 200-, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001,

2006, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2008, 2008, 16 x post-2008

(coat-of-arms design), 2009, 2011

2p 309 1971, 1977, 1979, 1980, 1980, 1981, 1981, 1987, 1988, 1990,

1990, 1990, 1991, 1991, 1995, 1996, 1996, 1998, 1999, 2000,

2000, 2001, 2007, 2008, 2008, 14 x post-2008 (coat-of-arms

design)

5p 75 1991, 1998, 2001, 2006, 2007, 2009

10p 61 1991, 1992, 1992, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001,

2006, 2 x post-2008 (coat-of-arms design), 2009, 2009

20p 36 200-

50p 1 Unknown

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign

currency

1 5 euro cents

Unknown 14 Unknown

6 10%

7 11%

22 26%

25 41%

1 2%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Brock Bottom

Mode = 2001

Median = 2000

444

2.14 – Claife Station Case-Study

Case-study name: Claife Station (CS)


Case-study location: Claife Heights, western shore of Lake Windermere, Cumbria, England

Case-study date: 1-2 years (‘The one on the west shore of Windermere only started last year

I think, so it’s not really known about”, pers. comm. Sam Stalker, National Trust Ranger,

13/02/2012)



Attractions nearby: Claife Station, a Victorian viewing platform, now closed to visitors due

to safety

Observation: There are several trees along the main path up to and beyond Claife Station

which have been engraved with graffiti ; another form of ‘leaving your mark’?


399 45%

309 34%

75 8%

61 7% 36

4% 1 0.1% 0 0

1 0.1%

14 1.6%

1p 2p 5p 10p 20p 50p £1 £2 Foreign currency

Unknown

Denominations of Coins at Brock Bottom

Mean = 1997

Mode = 2001

Median = 2000

Total = 896

445


Title Map

No.

Location Type Reference

Number

Description

Ash

Landing

Wood

1 Ash Landing

Wood, Claife,

Hawkshead,

Cumbria

Site (SD 39 NE

32)

Woodland containing post-

medieval charcoal burning

platforms.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No.

1149331

2 Station Scar

Wood,

Hawkshead,

Cumbria

Site Monument

No.

1149331

Station Scar Wood contains at

least one post-medieval charcoal

burning platform.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No.

1149335

3 Tanner Brow,

Hawkshead,

Cumbria

Site Monument

No.

1149335

Tanner Brow, an area of woodland

containing the remains of at least

three post-medieval charcoal

burning platforms.

Source: PastScape

Bowyer’s

Fold

4 Claife,

Hawkshead,

Cumbria

Monument Monument

Number

(SD 39 NE

41)

The site of a Second World War

concrete and brick structure which

was used as a Home Guard

Observation Post with aperture at

the front overlooking Lake

Windermere and Ferry at Boywers

Fold, Far Sawrey

Source: PastScape

Claife

Station

5 Claife,

Hawkshead,

Cumbria

Monument NT

HBSMR

No: 20508

A late 18th

– late 19th

century

prospect tower.

Source: National Trust HBSMR

Domestic

waste

rubbish

6 Station Wood,

Claife Woods,

Cumbria

Monument Depositor

ID: 37180

This feature is a dump of broken

pottery and glass wares which

appear to date from the 19th

century. It is widely believed that

446

dump this refuse accumulated as a result

of events held at Claife Station and

Belle Isle House.

Source: Lake District National

Park HER

Quarry near

The Station

7 Claife,

Hawkshead,

Cumbria

Monument NT

HBSMR

No: 24633

Post-medieval quarry.


Quarry in

Ash

Landing

Wood

8 Ash Landing

Wood, Claife

Woods,

Hawkshead,

Cumbria

Monument NT

HBSMR

No: 24818

Post-medieval slate quarry


Stone

Bridge

9 Claife Woods,

Hawkshead,

Cumbria

Monument NT

HBSMR

No: 25244

Post-medieval stone bridge built

over a small beck.



CS1

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: Many potential hammer rocks, near an area of scree

Proximity to path: 165cm south-west of main path

Class of decay: 3


Coin-tree

with 1-100

coins

Key


447




Elevation: 551ft

Coins: 2

Discernible patterning of coins: Both coins on top of stump, inserted a pre-existing crack


1p 2 Post-2008 (coat-of-arms design)

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

2.15 – Clonenagh Case-Study

Case-study name: Clonenagh (CL)


Case-study location: Clonenagh, Co. Laios, Republic of Ireland

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): Possibly 19th

/early 20th

century

Case-study environment: Roadside of the R445, beside a graveyard

Land ownership: Public land managed by Laois County Council

Attractions nearby: The graveyard


Additional information: 2.9m to the west of the coin-tree is an information plaque, set up by

Laois County Council, who manages the land. It offers the following information about the

coin-tree, which it dubs ‘St Fintan’s Tree’:

‘This tree was planted 200 to 250 years ago, within the area of the ancient Monastery

of Clonenagh.

A well which also venerated the Saint was nearby. When the well was closed, a spring

appeared in the fork of the tree and became the focal point for “patterns” (celebrations

on the Saint’s feast day) for many years.

448

A custom developed of inserting coins into the bark of the tree, and it became known

as the “Money Tree”. Because of metallic poisoning and damage to the bark due to

this custom, the tree has now gone into decay. But a number of shoots have been

salvaged and it is hoped that these might prolong the life of the tree.

Please refrain from inserting any metal into the tree or damaging it in any way.

Saint Fintan pray for us.’


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Cross-slab 1 Cross-slab Clonenagh,

County

Westmeath

SMR No.

LA017-

003005- &

LA017-

003010 to

LA017-

003022

In an elevated area. In 1988 ten

early Christian cross-slabs,

rectangular in shape were

uncovered during the digging of

a pathway through the graveyard

(LA017-003007-) at Clonenagh.

Three are in false relief, the

remainder are simple incised

crosses. These cross-slabs have

been attached to the inner east

face of the graveyard wall in the

west quadrant of the graveyard.

Source: National Monuments

Service

Ecclesiastical

enclosure

2 Ecclesiastical

enclosure

Clonenagh,

County

SMR No.

LA017-

Hachured on the 1838 ed OS 6-

inch map. In undulating

449

Westmeath 004002- countryside. Appears as a low

mound. Enclosure depicted on

OS 6-inch map as enclosing

church site (LA017-004001-).


Service

Graveyard 3 Graveyard Clonenagh,

County

Westmeath

SMR No.

LA017-

003008-

A number of randomly placed,

uninscribed grave-markers are

visible on top of a natural hill,

the summit of which appears to

be artificially raised as a result of

burials. This burial ground was

dedicated to St Brigit as

illustrated on Molloy's sketch of

Clonenagh from c. 1813

(Manning 1998, 186)


Service


County

Westmeath

SMR No.

LA017-

003005- &

LA017-

003010 to

LA017-

003022














Service


County

Westmeath

SMR No.

LA017-

003005- &

LA017-

003010 to

LA017-

003022














Service

Graveyard 6 Graveyard Clonenagh,

County

Westmeath

SMR No.

LA017-

003007-

Graveyard contains fourteen

inscribed early Christian cross-

slabs and numerous uninscribed

grave markers, placed against the

inner face of the west wall of the

graveyard. Roughly rectangular

shaped graveyard (int. dims. 51m

N-S; 46m E-W) enclosed by a

stone wall containing post 1700

AD memorials.

450


Service

Castle 7 Castle Clonenagh,

County

Westmeath

SMR No.

LA017-

003009-

A circular platform (diam c.

23m, H c. 2.5m) with evidence of

a surrounding fosse. No other

visible surface remains.


Service

Church 8 Church Clonenagh,

County

Westmeath

SMR No.

LA017-

003001-

A sixteenth-century nave and

chancel church built of roughly

coursed sandstone and limestone

rubble.


Service

Holy Tree 9 Ritual site –

a holy

tree/bush

Clonenagh,

County

Westmeath

SMR No.

LA017-

003004-

In an elevated area beside the

road. A Holy Tree, an ash,

containing water said to have

healing powers, connected with

Saint Fintan’s Well (LA017-

003003-)


Service

Holy well 10 Ritual site Clonenagh,

County

Westmeath

SMR No.

LA017-

003003-

In an elevated area. No visible

surface remains. Now dried up.

Reference to a sacred tree

(LA017-003004-) opposite the

well (O'Hanlon and O'Leary

1907, vol. 1, 209).


Service Source: http://webgis.archaeology.ie/NationalMonuments/FlexViewer/ (Accessed 24/01/2012)


451

CL1

Condition: Living

Species: Sycamore (Acer pseudoplatanus)

Associated tools: Many potential tools of percussion

Proximity to road: 4.6m north-north-west of road

Proximity to information plaque: 2.9m

Proximity to large fragment of tree (containing no coins): 4m


Grid reference: SF 36598 59716 (±9ft)


Elevation: 388

Girth: 2.74m

Coins: 92

Highest coin: 2.2m, American dollar

Discernible patterning of coins: Random distribution. 4 coins on floor close to the tree; 1

coin on the floor 5.9m from the tree.


1 Euro cent 7 Unknown

2 Euro cents 8 Unknown

5 Euro cents 19 2003, 2004

10 Euro cents 19 2003

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acer_pseudoplatanus

452



1 Euro 7 1999

2 Euros 1 Unknown

Irish 1p (pre-Euro; pre-

2002)

4 1993

English 1p 2 Unknown


English 5p 0 -

English 10p 0 -


Other Foreign currency 2 1 American dollar, unknown

Unknown 2 Unknown

0 0

2 33%

4 66%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010

Dates of Coins at Clonenagh

Mode = 2003

Median = 2002/2003

Mean = 2001

7 8%

8 9%

19 21%

19 21%

9 10%

9 10%

6 7%

1 1%

4 4% 2

2% 2

2% 0 0

1 1%

3 3%

2 2%

Denominations of Coins at Clonenagh

Total = 92

453

2.16 – Corfe Castle Case-Study

Case-study name: Corfe Castle (CC)


Case-study location: Corfe Castle, Swanage, Dorset, England

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): Approx. 2 years (pers. comm. Phil

Stuckey, Area Ranger, 16/04/2012)

Case-study environment: Streamside woodland and fields


Attractions nearby: The castle of Corfe Castle

Further information: Phil Stuckey: “Strictly speaking this isn’t a coin tree, more of a coin

bench. A couple of years ago we felled several pines that were in a dangerous condition,

placing the trunks, roughly 20’ in length, alongside the main visitor route from the car park to

the castle at Corfe Castle.” (pers. comm. Phil Stuckey, Area Ranger, 16/04/2012)



Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Monument

No. 456875

1 Find spot Corfe Castle,

Purbeck, Dorset Monument No.

456875

An early Bronze Age

barbed and tanged flint

454

arrowhead, found west

of the Wareham road.

Source: PastScape

West Hill 2 Monument Corfe Castle,


(SY 98 SE 25)

A Bronze Age barrow

on West Hill, extant as

an earthwork mound 63

feet in diameter and 3.5

feet high.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No. 456833



456833

Romano-British shale

plaques

Source: PastScape

Monument

No. 456840



456840

Romano-British

occupation debris with

finds of pottery, coins

and a shale armlet. The

site dates from the 2nd to

the 4th century.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No. 456847



456847

Roman pottery sherds

and flue tile.

Source: PastScape

Vineyard

Bridge

6 Monument Corfe Castle,


(SY 98 SE 66)

Medieval to post-

Medieval bridge, c. 15th

century.

Source: PastScape

House Corfe

Castle



(SY 98 SE 85)

Medieval house, late

15th century.

Source: PastScape

The Rings 8 Monument Corfe Castle,


(SY 98 SE 27)

Medieval ‘ring and

bailey’ earthworks

situated 320 yards

south-south-west of

Corfe Castle, thought to

be a siege castle of 1139

built by Stphen in an

unsuccessful attempt to

take Corfe Castle.

Source: PastScape

St Edward the

Martyr’s

Church



(SY 98 SE 80)

Medieval church tower

(15th century) and post-

medieval church (1860).

Source: PastScape

Monument

No. 456825



456825

Possible Medieval or

later fishponds and

watercourse.

Source: PastScape

Corfe Castle 11 Monument Corfe Castle,


4

Medieval castle,

consisting of keep,

angle tower, curtain

wall, gatehouse, house,

interval tower, and post-

medieval bastion

outwork.

455

Source: PastScape

Moreton’s

House Hotel



(SY 98 SE 28)

Post-medieval manor

house, dating to the late

16th to early 17th

century, now used as a

hotel.

Source: PastScape

West Street 13 Monument Corfe Castle,


(SY 98 SE

100)

Post-Medieval

congregational chapel,

used from 1774.

Source: PastScape

East Street 14 Monument Corfe Castle,


(SY 98 SE

101)

Post-Medieval

congregational chapel,

used from 1835.

Source: PastScape

Skew Bridge 15 Monument Corfe Castle,


(SY 98 SE

103)

Post-Medieval tramway

bridge, built in 1885 for

horse drawn ropeway

and later altered for

tramway use in early

1900s.

Source: PastScape

Boar Mill 16 Monument Corfe Castle,


(SY 98 SE

104)

Post-Medieval house

with attached former

watermill, 18th century.

Source: PastScape



456

CC1

Condition: Log


Associated tools: None – which may explain the high quantity of small coins (1p, 5p) rather

than 2ps, as they are easier to insert

Proximity to path: Directly beside path, north-north-west of path

Proximity to Corfe River: 20m north-north-west of path

Class of decay: 3


Orientation: SWW-NEE

Grid reference: SY 95765 82367 (±21ft)


Elevation: 78ft


Coins: 558

Discernible patterning of coins: 15 are on log-ends but the majority are on the top of the

log, longitudinal, in pre-existing cracks. They are most densely distributed on the NEE end of

the log. Two are bent over and some show signs of percussion, but the majority do not

Other notable features: A few examples of graffiti – initials and illegible scratches


1p 365 1986, 2001, 2006, 2007, 3xpost-2008, 2012

2p 33 2000, 3xpost-2008

5p 136 1997, 2004, 3xpost-2008

10p 14 Unknown

20p 6 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 2 Unknown

457

2.17 – Cragside Case-Study

Case-study name: Cragside (CR)


Case-study location: Cragside Estate, Northumberland, England

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): No older than ten years (pers.

comm. Sue Turnbull, National Trust Ranger, 27/03/2012)

Case-study environment: On a strip of grass separating a minor Cragside Estate car park

(the Dunkirk car park) from a one-way road which circles the estate.


Attractions nearby: The Victorian house and estate of Cragside

0

1 12.5%

1 12.5%

5 62.5%

1 12.5%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Corfe Castle

365 65%

33 6%

136 24%

14 2.5%

6 1% 0 0 0

2 0.4%

2 0.4%

Denominations of Coins at Corfe Castle

Mode = n/a

Median = 2001, 2004

Mean = 2002

Total = 558

458



Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Cairn,

Cragside

1 Monument Cartington,

Northumberland

NT

HBSMR

No: 10018

An undated cairn and

mound. A tumulus

marked on the OS

1:2500 (1863). Hidden

by forestry until

recently. Now in use

as a viewing platform.

An oval mound with

possible revetment of

stones.

Source: National Trust

HBSMR

Cragside

round barrow


Northumberland

Monument

Number:

(NU 00 SE

45)

A Bronze Age round

barrow situated in a

prominent position on

a gentle southwest

slope on the top of a

ridge, which falls

away very steeply to

the south and west.

Field investigations

carried out in 1957 and

1971 failed to locate

459

the barrow due to

dense forest and

undergrowth.

Source: PastScape

Little Mill 3 Monument Rothbury,

Northumberland

Monument

Number:

(NU 00 SE

81)

Site of a small, post-

medieval water-

powered corn mill,

which was recorded

as derelict in 1964.

Source: PastScape

Shepherd’s

Hut


Northumberland

NT

HBSMR

No: 10055

A ruined, post-

medieval building,

known as the

'Shepherd's Hut'.

Coursed sandstone

blocks, no roof.

Restored by the Trust.


HBSMR Source: http://www.heritagegateway.org.uk/gateway/advanced_search.aspx (Accessed 16/09/2012)

CR1

Condition: Living

Species: Douglas fir (Pseudotsuga)

Associated tools: None (coins easily inserted into cracks in bark)


460

Proximity to road: 3m south-west of road

Proximity to car park: Directly beside car park, north-east of it


Grid Reference: NU 07477 01095 (±14ft)


Elevation: 345ft

Girth: 4.35m

Coins: 6

Discernible patterning of coins: Random. Inserted into cracks in the bark.

Highest coin: 1.3m, 1p


1p 4 1994, 2003, 2003

2p 0 -

5p 1 Unknown

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

2.18 – Dovedale Case-Study

Case-study name: Dovedale (DD)

Date of fieldwork: 08/06/2012 and 01/07/2012

Case-study location: Dovedale, Derbyshire, England

Case-study date: Roughly ten years (pers. comm. Simon Nicholas, National Trust Ranger,

30/03/2012)

Case-study environment: All coin-trees beside the main path running alongside the River

Dove, through a limestone ravine


Attractions nearby: Dovedale is a popular walk


461

Sites and

monuments

within 500 metres

of coin-trees.

More details in

462


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Reynard’s

Cave

1 Site Tissington,

Derbyshire

(SK 15 SW

69)

A large cave featuring a single

chamber and a rear passage. Test

excavation in 1959 recovered

evidence of Neolithic, Roman

and Medieval activity. Finds

listed in the excavation report

include potsherds identified as

possible Peterborough Ware,

two flint scrapers which might

also be Neolithic; Romano-

British potsherds and a bronze

brooch. Some possible Iron Age

sherds have also been noted

subsequently. A number of

bone, lead and iron objects are

likely to be Medieval, although a

Romano-British date cannot be

ruled out for some of them.

Medieval potsherds were also

present. A faunal assemblage

which included cow, sheep, pig,

horse, bear and other species is

likely to be of various dates. A

Romano-British coin hoard is

reputed to have been found at

the site prior to 1926, but no

details are known.

Source: PastScape.

Newton

Grange

2 Newton

Grange,

Derbyshire

Depositor ID

631754

Bronze Age Barrow.

Source: NMR Excavation Index

Monument

No. 308269

3 Find

spot

Ilam,

Staffordshire

Monument

No. 308269

(SK 15 SW

33)

Roman coins.

Source: PastScape.

Monument

No. 605789

4 Find

spot

Thorpe,

Derbyshire

Monument

No. 605789

(SK 15 SE 42)

Roman coins.

Source: PastScape



465

CLUSTER 1

DD1

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: 116cm east of path

Proximity to River Dove: 410cm east of river

Class of decay: 3


Orientation: north-south

Grid reference: SK 14431 52496 ±20ft


Elevation: 565ft

Length: 12.2m Girth: 104cm

Coins: 200

Discernible patterning of coins: Most running longitudinally along the top of the log.

Roughly 10% are bent over.

Other notable features: One small silver nail, and covered in engraved graffiti


1p 114 1994, 2001, 2001, 2002, 2007, 2 x post-2008

(coat-of-arms design), 2009

2p 61 1981, 1991, 2002, 2006, 2006, 2 x post-2008

(coat-of-arms design)

5p 14 Unknown


20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 4 Unknown

DD2

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


466

Proximity to DD1: 295cm east of DD1



Class of decay: 2

Ease of access: A slight climb from the path

Orientation: east-west



Elevation: 565ft


Coins: 1



1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

DD3

Condition: Log



Proximity to DD1: 550cm south of DD1



Class of decay: 2




467


Elevation: 565ft


Coins: 33

Discernible patterning of coins: Primarily running longitudinally along the bark. Two bent

coins.


1p 16 1999, 1999

2p 11 2003, 2008

5p 5 Unknown

10p 1 1992

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

CLUSTER 2

DD4

Condition: Stump

Species: Ash (Flaxinus)


Proximity to path: In middle of path


Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easily accessible, in the middle of main path



Elevation: 551ft


Coins: 14

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on top of stump, radial distribution


1p 5 Unknown

Dovedale 3 Cluster 1

468

2p 4 Unknown

5p 2 Unknown

10p 1 Unknown

20p 1 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 1 Unknown

DD5

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to DD4: 20.6m south of DD4

Proximity to path: Directly on the path


Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easily accessible, on the main path



Elevation: 551ft


Coins: 48

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on top of stump, random distribution. 5 coins

bent


1p 31 200-, post-2008 (coat-of-arms design)

2p 13 2009

5p 2 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 1 Unknown

469

DD6

Condition: Stump



Proximity to DD5: `128cm south-south-west of DD5



Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easily accessible, directly beside the main path



Elevation: 551ft


Coins: 35

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on top of stump, random distribution. 7 coins

bent


1p 19 Unknown

2p 12 2008

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 3 Unknown

STAND-ALONE

DD7

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: 56cm south-east-east of main path

Proximity to River Dove: 388cm south-east-east of river

Cluster 2

470

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 541ft


Coins: 2

Discernible patterning of coins: One on the log-end, in a pre-existing crack; the other on top

of the log


1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

DD8

Condition: Stump


Associated tools: Jagged limestone rock, 9 x 7 x 4cm, with minimal abrasion on edges

Proximity to path: Directly east of path


Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 539ft


Coins: 497

471

Discernible patterning of coins: 309 coins on top of stump, radial distribuyion; 188 coins on

side of stump, random distribution. Roughly 60 coins bent


1p 286 1976, 199-, 1998, 1998, 1999, 200-, 2000,

2000, 2001, 2001, 2002, 2002, 2003, 2004,

2006, 2007, 8 x post-2008 (coat-of-arms

design), 2009, 2010, 2011

2p 137 1971, 1978, 1986, 1991, 1998, 2004, 2006, 4

x post-2008 (coat-of-arms design)

5p 41 1990, post-2008 (coat-of-arms design)

10p 21 200-

20p 8 Unknown

50p 1 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 2 Unknown

CLUSTER 3

DD9

Condition: Living



Proximity to path: Directly to the east of main path

Proximity to River Dove: 16m east of river




Elevation: 590ft

Highest coin: 212cm

Girth: 279cm

Coins: 69

Discernible patterning of coins: Primarily on the path-facing side, following the grain

longitudinally, many inserted into pre-existing fissures in the bark. 2 are twisted


1p 33 2001, 2 x post-2008 (coat-of-arms design),

2010, 2011

2p 25 Unknown

472

5p 8 Unknown

10p 1 Unknown

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 1 Unknown

DD10

Condition: Stump


Associated tools: Jagged limestone hammer rock, 7 x 4 x 3cm, abraded at edges


Proximity to path: Directly east of main path

Proximity to River Dove: 16m east of river

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 590ft


Coins: 970

Discernible patterning of coins: Radial on top of stump. Roughly half are bent over.


1p 482 1971, 1973, 1980, 1980, 1983, 1986, 1988,

1988, 1989, 199-, 1990, 1990, 1993, 1997,

1997, 1997, 1998, 1998, 1999, 20--, 200-,

2000, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2003,

2003, 2005, 2006, 2006, 2006, 10 x post-2008

(coat-of-arms design), 2008, 2008, 2010,

2010, 2011

2p 362 1979, 1980, 1981, 1981, 1986, 199-, 199-,

1990, 1990, 1992, 1994, 1997, 1997, 1999,

1999, 200-, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2003,

2003, 2006, 2007, 8 x post-2008 (coat-of-

arms design), 2008, 2009, 2009, 2011, 2011

5p 43 1990, 1992, 1992, 1999, 2003, 2009

10p 36 1995, 1995, 2000, 2002, 2002, 2004, 2 x post-

Dovedale 9

473

2008 (coat-of-arms design)

20p 19 Unknown

50p 7 Unknown

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 4 1 American cent, 5 euro cents, unknown x 2

Unknown 17 Unknown

DD11

Condition: Log


Associated tools: Jagged limestone hammer rock, 7 x 4 x 3cm, abraded at edges


Proximity to path: Directly east of main path


Class of decay: 3





Elevation: 590ft


Coins: 3260

Discernible patterning of coins: Primarily following the grain longitudinally. One 1p loose

on the ground.


1p 1637 1971, 1971, 1975, 1977, 1979, 1979, 198-,

1981, 1981, 1984, 1986, 1986, 1990, 1990,

1991, 1992, 1997, 1997, 1997, 20--, 20--,

200-, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2002, 2002, 2002,


design), 2009, 2009, 2009, 2010, 2010, 2011

2p 1387 1980, 1980, 1981, 1985, 1989, 1989, 199-,

199-, 1990, 1991, 1992, 1992, 1996, 1997,

1997, 1998, 1999, 1999, 2000, 2000, 2000,

2002, 2003, 2003, 12 x post-2008 (coat-of-

arms design), 2008, 2008, 2008, 2009, 2009,

2010, 2011, 2011

474

5p 88 1987, 1989, 1989, 200-, 2007, 2010

10p 63 1992, 1999, 1999, 2000, 2002, 2003, 4 x post-


20p 37 Unknown

50p 7 Unknown

£1 1 Unknown

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 8 5 euro cent 2008, 5 euro cent, euro cent,

American cent, 2 Polish zloty 2005, unknown

gold-coloured foreign coin, unknown foreign

coin, unknown foreign coin

Unknown 32 Unknown

STAND-ALONE

DD12

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: 64cm east of main path


Class of decay: 3





Elevation: 630ft


Coins: 7

Discernible patterning of coins: Following the grain longitudinally


1p 1 Unknown

2p 2 Unknown

5p 1 Unknown

10p 3 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

475


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

DD13


Species: n/a


Proximity to path: In the middle of main path

Proximity to River Dove: 294cm north-north-east of river

Ease of access: Easily accessible, in the middle of main path



Elevation: 478ft


Coins: 7

Discernible patterning of coins: All in side of post, following a pre-existing longitudinal

crack

Other notable features: Two nails, but they possibly had a practical function


1p 2 Unknown

2p 2 Unknown

5p 1 Unknown

10p 2 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

DD14

476

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: Beside area of scree, so many potential hammer rocks

Proximity to path: 87cm north-east of main path

Proximity to River Dove: 592cm north-east of river

Class of decay: 3


Orientation: south-west – north-east



Elevation: 475ft


Coins: 296

Discernible patterning of coins: Following the grain longitudinally, many following one

long crack. One American cent is broken where it was bent. Many edges damaged through

percussion, and about one third bent over

Other notable features: One two pence piece had ‘R’ written on it in silver pen; a way of

marking the coin as theirs? To recognise their coin on a return visit?


1p 165 1979, 1988, 1990, 1998, 200-, 2000, 2002,

2005, 2005, 2005, 2006, 2006, 2006, 2007,


design), 2009, 2010, 2010

2p 98 1971, 1986, 1988, 1990, 1992, 1994, 1996,

1998, 200-, 2000, 2005, 2007, 2007, 2008, 6

x post-2008 (coat-of-arms design), 2010,

2011

5p 20 200-, 2000, 2001, 2009

10p 10 1996, 2002, post-2008 (coat-of-arms design)

20p 1 Unknown

50p 1 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 American cent (broken)

Unknown 1 Unknown

477

2.19 – Fairy Glen Case-Study

Case-study name: Fairy Glen (FG)


Case-study location: Fairy Glen, Black Isle, Scotland

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): c.2005 – “The tree fell over in a

storm about 6-7 years ago (it is definitely not older than 10 years) and after that had coins put

in it” (Pers. comm. Kate Horsfall, RSPB, 11/11/2011).

Case-study environment: Woodland, by a waterfall

Land ownership: Privately owned by Ms. Warbrick, Rosemarkie

Attractions nearby: The waterfalls of Fairy Glen

19 8%

35 15%

67 29%

101 44%

9 4%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Dovedale

2793 51%

2114 39%

227 4.2%

144 2.6%

68 1.3%

15 0.28%

1 0.02% 0

14 0.26%

62 1.1%


Unknown

Denominations of Coins at Dovedale

Dovedale 14

Mode = 2000

Median = 2000

Mean = 1998

Total = 5438

478


Sites and monuments within 500 metres of coin-trees(s): According to Canmore, the

Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland, there are no

historical sites or monuments within 500 metres of the coin-trees (Accessed 16/09/2012)

480

FG1

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: Abraded, rounded limestone rock, 6x5x3.5cm, used as tool of percussion

Proximity to path: 3.8m north of path

Proximity to pool: Directly on pool, south-south-west of waterfall

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Relatively easy to access, although some sections require going ankle-deep

into the pool

Orientation: East to west

Grid reference: NH 72626 58575 (±26ft)


Elevation: 150ft


Coins: 4578

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinal placement

Damage to edges of coins: Some coins deliberately bent over

Other notable features: One 2p painted red


1p 2306 1980, 1990, 200-, 2000,

2001, 2003, 2004, 5 x post-

2008 (coat-of-arms design),

2010, 2010

2p 1745 1978, 1978, 1980, 1980,

1981, 1986, 1987, 1987,

1988, 1988, 199-, 199-, 1992,

1998, 1999, 1999, 200-,

2000, 2001, 2003, 2006,

post-2008 (coat-of-arms

design)

5p 218 Unknown

10p 192 1992, 2 x post-2008 (coat-of-

arms design), 2008

20p 32 1982, 1982, 2 x post-2008


50p 3 Unknown

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 3 1 euro, 1 euro, unknown

Unknown 79 Unknown

481

FG2

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: see FG1

Proximity to FG1: Touching

Proximity to FG3: Touching

Proximity to FG4: 40cm



Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Relatively easy to access, although some sections require going ankle-deep

into the pool




Elevation: 150ft


Coins: 328

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinal placement. Some damage through percussion,

heavily inserted (only rims visible)


1p 140 1994

2p 107 2012

5p 33 Unknown

10p 38 1999, 2000

20p 4 2000

50p 1 Unknown

£1 1 2004

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 2 euro, unknown

Unknown 2 Unknown

FG3

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


482



Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Quite difficult to access, requiring reaching out over the water




Elevation: 150ft


Coins: 6

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinal placement


1p 2 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 1 Unknown

10p 2 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 1 euro cent

Unknown 0 -

FG4

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood




Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Quite difficult to access, requiring reaching out over the water




Elevation: 150ft

483


Coins: 1

Discernible patterning of coins: Inserted into log-end


1p 0 -

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

FG5

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Directly on path, south of path

Proximity to pool: 6m south of pool, south-south-west of waterfall

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easy to access

Orientation: South-south-east to north-north-west



Elevation: 150ft


Coins: 10


Other notable features: The log is covered with graffiti


1p 4 Unknown

2p 4 Unknown

5p 2 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

484

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

Coins in water: 5


1p 2 2001, 2010

2p 1 2004

5p 1 2010

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 Denmark 25 ōre 2006

Unknown 0 -

4 15%

8 30%

9 33%

15 56%

1 4%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Fairy Glen

2454 50%

1858 38%

255 5.2%

232 4.7%

36 0.73%

4 0.08%

1 0.02% 0

7 0.75%

81 1.6%


Unknown

Denominations of Coins at Fairy Glen

Mode = 2000, 2010

Median = 2000

Mean = 1997

The Fairy Glen

cluster

Total = 4928

485

2.20 – Fore Case-Study

Case-study name: Fore (FR)


Case-study location: Fore, Co. Westmeath, Republic of Ireland

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): Unknown, but pre-1980s

Case-study environment: Marshland

Land ownership: Co. Westmeath County Council

Attractions nearby: Fore Abbey and the ‘Seven Wonders of Fore’


486


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Church 1 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035003-

Monastery of St. Feichin, the exact

date of which is unknown, but the 7th

487

century seems likely. The deaths of

its abbots are recorded in the Annals

from 705 until 1163.

Source: National Monuments Service Historic

town, Fore

2 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035-

Fore is situated on the Kells-

Castlepollard road in north-east

Westmeath in a secluded marshy

valley flanked by high ground on the

north, east and south. The placename

is derived from Fobhair, meaning a

spring or well. This spring emerges

from a rock known as Carraig Bhaile

Fhobhair (the "Ben of Fore") on the

south side of the town (Bradley et. al.

1985, 73). The precise date of

Feichin's foundation is unknown but a

date in the second quarter of the 7th

century seems likely.

Source: National Monuments Service

High cross 3 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035022-

Pre-12th century. Large undecorated

pierced ringed cross set on a concrete

shaft E of St. Feichin's church

(WM004-035003-). It is deeply buried

but is decorated with an incised cross

within a border. Dims. H 118cm, W

98cm, T 22cm. (Bradley, J., Urban

Archaeological Survey - Co.

Westmeath, Office of Public Works,

Dublin, p. 79).


Religious

house –

Benedictine

monks

4 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035010-

12th/13th-century priory, north of Fore.

The remains consist of the priory

complex and a series of outbuildings,

including a dovecot, and earthworks

on Knocknamonaster. The buildings

are grouped around a rectangular

cloister. The church lies to the north,

the refectory and kitchen on the south,

apartments and other domestic

buildings on the east and west.


Gatehouse 5 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035029-

13th-century gatehouse located 40m E

of Fore Abbey (WM004-035010-).

Depicted on the 1837 ed. OS 6-inch

map as a small rectangular building

guarding the causewayed entrance

over the enclosing moat which

protected Fore Abbey.


Graveslab 6 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035028-

Weathered coffin-shaped granite

graveslab (dims. H 1.68m; Wth 0.3-

0.48m; T 0.18m) of 13th or 14th

century date with an incised fleur-de-

lis cross.


Dovecote 7 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035016-

Located above the scarp, 35m NE of

the 13th century abbey (WM004-

035010-). About half of the building

survives to a height of 1.2m. The

dovecote has an internal diameter of

488

3.35m and the walls are 1.15m thick.

The lower dressed jambs of an E door

are present.


Graveslab 8 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035023-

Coffin-shaped grey sandstone slab

(dims. H 0.78m; Wth 0.42-0.5m; T

0.11m) of 13th or 14th century date.

Source: National Monuments Service Town

defences

9 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035008-

Anglo-Norman town defences of Fore,

dating from the 14th or 15th century.


Gateway 10 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035002-

North gateway which appears to from

part of the 15th-century fortification of

Fore. The present remains of the

North gate consists of a rectangular

structure with rounded corners on the

north-west and south-east angles. It is

built of fairly evenly coursed

limestone and is entered through a

round arched gate, 2.6m wide, which

is blocked by a modern cross wall.

The passage is flat-arched and short.

Only the ground floor survives and

there are no indications of internal

chambers.


Earthwork 11 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035011-

This low hill or knoll (dims. 160m E-

W; 140m N-S) north of the

Benedictine priory buildings

(WM004-035010-) formed part of the

monastery precinct and was enclosed

by a defensive moat as depicted on the

1837 ed. OS 6-inch map. A medieval

dovecote (WM004-035016-) is located

in the S quadrant of the hill known as

'Knocknamonaster'.


Mill 12 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035012-

Mill building depicted at this location

on the 1837 ed. OS 6-inch map. A

small rectangular building north of St.

Feichin's church (WM004-035003-) is

pointed out as St. Feichin's mill.


Wall

monument

13 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035031-

A rectangular sandstone plaque above

the Nugent mausoleum door in the

Anchorite's Cell (WM004-035004-)

notes that the tower of a church was

rebuilt in 1680. The plaque bears the

Nugent arms and a relief inscription in

Roman capitals: THE RIGHT

HONORABLE/ RICHARD NVGENT

EARLE/ OF WESTMEATHE AT

HIS OWN/ EXPENCES

REBVILDED THIS/ CHAPLE AND

CASTLE FOR/ THE BVRYINGE

PLACE AND/ PIOVS VSE OF

HIMSELFE AND/ HIS SVCESSORS

ANNO/ DOMINI 1680.


489

Memorial

stone

14 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM008-

097013-

1616 slab. Missing.


Font 15 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM008-

097013-

1616 slab. Missing.



Westmeath

WM008-

097007-

Listed by Bradley (1985, 83) as a

Penal Chapel of possible 17th century

date. The ruins of this T-shaped

church stand at the W end of the

graveyard (WM008-097014-) of St.

Mary's parish church (WM008-

097002-).

Graveyard 17 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035032-

Roughly square-shaped graveyard

(dims. 58m N-S; 57m E-W) located to

the south of St Feichin's Church

(WM004-035003-) and to the east of

the Anchorite's Church (WM004-

035004-).

Depicted as a 'Burying Ground' on the

1837 ed. OS 6-inch map and as a

Grave Yard on the revised editions.

Source: National Monuments Service Prison 18 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035005-

An 'Old Gaol' is depicted standing

opposite to the N of the village green

on the 1837 ed. of the OS 6-inch map.


Graveyard 19 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM008-

097014-

Roughly rectangular-shaped graveyard

(dims. 74m NW-SE x 43m N-S)

defined by a boundary wall of post-

medieval date with the remains of a

medieval church (WM008-097002-)

standing in the N quadrant. The

graveyard contains inscribed

memorials dating from the 18th

century onwards.

Cross 20 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

012-

Described in 1980 as 'The cross is in 4

fragments : (1) the base (L 0.69m; H

0.5m) and the lower part of the shaft

(T 0.13m; Wth 0.23m; H 0.26m)

which is cemented into it; (2) and (3)

two fragments of the shaft ( H 0.36m;

Wth 0.21m) with a panel of

decoration, these two fragments fit

together; (4) the upper part of the shaft

(H 0.38m) and part of the head. The

base is a carefully shaped block of

stone the upper part of which has been

shaped to give the base sloping

surfaces.’ (SMR file).



Westmeath

WM004-

035001-

Levelled church site depicted as 'Site

of Templefeenan' on the 1837 ed. OS

6-inch map. No surface remains

visible. Originally known as

Teampall Fionain [Church of Fionain]

which was then anglicised as

Templefeenan. Nothing is known of

the church apart from its name and

location.


Well 22 Monument Fore, WM004- Possible holy well depicted as

490

Westmeath 035007- 'Tobernacogany' on the 1837 ed. OS

6-inch map. In the field north of the

road from St. Feichin's church

(WM004-035003-). A holed stone of

conglomerate is deeply buried in the

ground beside this well. The "wishing

tree", known locally as the tree that

will not burn, is in the same field.


Ritual site –

holy well

23 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035009-

Holy well depicted as 'Doaghfeighin'

on the 1837 ed. OS 6-inch map.

Delimited by a quadrangular setting of

upright stones about 1m square and

1m high. The west side is formed

from dry stone walling.

Source: National Monuments Service Souterrain 24 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM004-

035006-

A souterrain was discovered in 1962

about 60m south-east of St. Feichin's

church (WM004-035003-), running in

a north-south direction, consisting of a

short passage 6m long.


Market cross 25 Monument Fore,

Westmeath

WM008-

097001-

According to the OS Name Books

dating from 1875 this monument was

recorded as 'An ancient stone cross,

which is now in a dilapidated state,

only a portion of it remaining. The

cross was formerly in the centre of the

market place when this was a borough

town having a weekly market and

faires?' (OS Name Book 1875, 1).


Source: http://webgis.archaeology.ie/NationalMonuments/FlexViewer/ (Accessed 20/01/2014)


492

FR1 (Stump of original coin-tree)

Condition: Stump



Rate of decay: 4

Proximity to path: In the well in the middle of the path

Ease of access: Barely visible, it is hidden beneath FR2, and you have to lean across the

muddy well to reach it.

Grid reference: SA 54975 33379 (±9ft)


Elevation: 243ft


Coins: 2

Discernible patterning of coins: Inserted together on the edge of the stump

FR2 (Replacement of original coin-tree)

Condition: Living



Proximity to path: In the centre of a path




Elevation: 243ft


1 Euro cent 0 -

2 Euro cents 0 -

5 Euro cents 1 2006

10 Euro cents 0 -

20 Euro cents 0 -

50 Euro cents 0 -

1 Euro 0 -

2 Euros 0 -

Foreign currency 1 20 euro cents 1999 (Ireland took on the

euro in 2002)

Unknown 0 -

493

Girth: 32cm

Coins: 7

Discernible patterning of coins: Only one tree is inserted into the bark (2 cents). One is tied

to the tree by a rag (1 cent 2006), another is inserted into the knot of a blue sock affixed to a

branch (5 cents 2007), and four more are in plastic bags (sandwich bags?) which are tied to

branches (1 cent 2012, 1 cent 2012, 2 cents 2005, 5 cents 2005).

Other notable features: This is predominantly a rag-tree with strips of fabric, socks, gloves,

hair bobbles and clips, a toothbrush, bra straps, key rings, shoes, scarves, earrings, shoelaces,

belts, pieces of twine, baby’s bibs, stockings, sweet and crisp wrappers, handkerchiefs, etc.


1 Euro cent 3 2008, 2012, 2012

2 Euro cents 1 2005

5 Euro cents 2 2005, 2007

10 Euro cents 0 -

20 Euro cents 0 -

50 Euro cents 0 -

1 Euro 0 -

2 Euros 0 -

Foreign currency 1 Unknown 2007

Unknown 0 -

FR3

Condition: Living


Associated tools: Several potential tools of percussion





Elevation: 243ft

Girth: 1.83m

Coins: 121

Discernible patterning of coins: Inserted into the bark in random distribution

Highest coin: 2.26m, 1 Euro cent

Other notable features: This is predominantly a rag-tree with strips of fabric, socks, gloves,

hair bobbles and clips, key rings, teddy bears, shoes, scarves, earrings, bracelets, a watch, a

lighter, shoelaces, belts, rosary beads, pieces of twine, a coat hanger, baby’s bibs, stockings,

sweet and crisp wrappers, bra straps, handkerchiefs, trainers, a broken umbrella, a Primark

494

clothes label, a bridal veil – even insurance documents and a boarding pass from Latvia

attached to the tree in a plastic wallet.


1 Euro cent 35 2003, 2005

2 Euro cents 27 2003, 2003

5 Euro cents 27 2002, 2003, 2006, 2007, 2008


20 Euro cents 5 200-, 2007


1 Euro 0 -

2 Euros 1 Unknown

Irish 1p (pre-Euro; pre-

2002)

6 1971, 1993

1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 2 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 4 1 Polish grosz 1992, 1 Polish grosz,

unknown 2007, unknown

Unknown 5 Unknown

1 4%

0

4 17%

17 71%

2 8%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Fore

Mode = 2007

Median = 2005

Mean = 2003

495

2.21 – Gougane Barra Case-Study

Case-study name: Gougane Barra (GB)


Case-study location: Gougane Barra, Co. Cork, Republic of Ireland

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): Unknown, during 20th

century

Case-study environment: A small wooded island reachable by a narrow causeway

Land ownership: Privately owned

Attractions nearby: The ossuary of St. Finbarr and the island of Gougane Barra itself are

popular tourist destinations


Other notable features: Many coins in lake surrounding the island

35 30%

27 23%

27 23%

4 3.4%

5 4.3%

4 3.4%

0

1 0.9%

6 5.1%

1 0.9% 0

2 1.7%

4 3.4%

5 4.3%

Denominations of Coins at Fore

Total = 117

497


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Hermitage 1 Hermitage Doire Ne

Coise,

Ballingeary,

County Cork

SMR No.

CO080-

012001-

Remains of hermitage established

here in late 17th century by

Carmelite priest Denis O'Mahony.


Service

Holy well 2 Ritual site Doire Ne

Coise,

Ballingeary,

County Cork

SMR No.

CO080-

012002-

Rectangular drystone structure

retains lake water; approached from

west side by flight of steps; covered

by stone flag. Still in use as part of

pilgrimage to site; devotions at well

on St John's day (June 24th) in early

19th century are colourfully

described by Croker (1824, 279-80).

St Finbar's day (September 25th) is

also celebrated at the well.


Service

Graveyard 3 Graveyard Doire Ne

Coise,

Ballingeary,

County Cork

SMR No.

CO080-

012003-

On south shore of Gougane Barra,

immediately adjacent to Holy Island

(CO080-012001-).Small rectangular

graveyard enclosed to the east and

south by stone wall and to north and

west by stone-faced scarp. In west

half are rows of low uninscribed

gravemarkers, otherwise inscribed

headstones all 20th-century in date.

498

Along roadside to north-west is

large vault, which marks the burial

place of Fr. D. O'Mahony, who

founded the nearby hermitage

(CO080-012001-)


Service

Source: http://webgis.archaeology.ie/NationalMonuments/FlexViewer/ (Accessed 24/01/2012)

GB1

Condition: Living


Associated tools: One probably tool of percussion: triangular piece of slate, abraded,

8x6x3cm




Elevation: 516ft

Girth: 1.8m

Coins: 36

Discernible patterning of coins: Random distribution

Highest coin: 2.15m, 1 Euro cent

Other notable features: Two nails


499


1 Euro cent 8 2003






1 Euro 1 Unknown

2 Euros 0 -

Irish 1p (pre-Euro; pre-2002) 0 -

English 1p 0 -


Unknown 0 -

GB2

Condition: Living

Species: Holly (Ilex)



Proximity to GB1: 9.7m



Elevation: 516ft

Girth: 1.7m

Coins: 2

Discernible patterning of coins: Random distribution. Some coins damaged through

percussion.

Highest coin: 1.22m

Other notable features: Graffiti on tree


1 Euro cent 0 -

2 Euro cents 0 -

5 Euro cents 0 -

10 Euro cents 0 -

20 Euro cents 0 -

50 Euro cents 0 -

1 Euro 0 -

2 Euros 0 -


500



Unknown 1 Unknown

GB3

Condition: Living




Proximity to GB1: 7m



Elevation: 516ft

Girth of GB3a: 1.15m Girth of GB3b: 1.12m

Coins: 2

Discernible patterning of coins: Random distribution – one on each of the two main limbs

Height of coin on limb GB3a (1 Euro cent): 1.24m

Height of coin on limb GB3b (5 Euro cents): 99cm

Other notable features: Graffiti



2 Euro cents 0 -


10 Euro cents 0 -

20 Euro cents 0 -

50 Euro cents 0 -

1 Euro 0 -

2 Euros 0 -


English 1p 0 -


Unknown 0 -

GB4

Condition: Living


501






Elevation: 516ft

Girth: 90cm

Coins: 1

Discernible patterning of coins: n/a. Damage through percussion. Showing signs of

verdigrease.

Height of coin: 1.7m


1 Euro cent 0 -

2 Euro cents 0 -

5 Euro cents 0 -

10 Euro cents 0 -

20 Euro cents 0 -

50 Euro cents 0 -

1 Euro 0 -

2 Euros 0 -

Irish 1p (pre-Euro; pre-2002) 1 Pre-2002

English 1p 0 -


Unknown 0 -

GB5


Species: n/a





Elevation: 516ft

Height: 93cm

Girth: 36cm

Coins: 1

502

Discernible patterning of coins: On top of post


1 Euro cent 0 -

2 Euro cents 0 -


10 Euro cents 0 -

20 Euro cents 0 -

50 Euro cents 0 -

1 Euro 0 -

2 Euros 0 -


English 1p 0 -


Unknown 0 -

GB6

Condition: Living







Elevation: 516ft

Girth: 1.28m

Coins: 6

Discernible patterning of coins: None

Highest coin: 1.66m, 2 Euro cents

Other notable features: Many slits from where coins have obviously been removed (by

management?)




5 Euro cents 0 -

10 Euro cents 0 -

20 Euro cents 0 -

50 Euro cents 0 -

1 Euro 0 -

2 Euros 0 -


503

English 1p 0 -


Unknown 0 -

GB7

Condition: Living







Elevation: 516ft

Girth: 57cm

Coins: 3




1 Euro cent 0 -

2 Euro cents 0 -


10 Euro cents 0 -

20 Euro cents 0 -

50 Euro cents 0 -

1 Euro 0 -

2 Euros 0 -


English 1p 0 -


Unknown 0 -

GB8

Condition: Living




504




Elevation: 516ft

Girth: 1.13mm

Coins: 5

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins in ‘hole’ in bark


Other notable features: Many slits from where coins have been removed


1 Euro cent 0 -

2 Euro cents 0 -



20 Euro cents 0 -

50 Euro cents 0 -

1 Euro 0 -

2 Euros 0 -

Irish 1p (pre-Euro; pre-2002) 1 Pre-2002

English 1p 0 -


Unknown 1 Unknown

11 19%

14 24%

9 16%

7 12%

7 12%

2 3% 1

2% 0

2 3% 1

2%

2 3%

Denominations of coins at Gougane Barra

Total = 58

505

2.22 – Grizedale Case-Study

Case-study name: Grizedale (GZ)


Case-study location: Grizedale, Cumbria, England

Case-study environment: Beneath the Go Ape course on a forest path.

Land ownership: Forestry Commission

Attractions nearby: Grizedale Forest itself, and the Go Ape course

Additional information: There are many nature-themed sculptures and art works on display

along the forest trails (the website http://visitlakelandforests.co.uk/ (Accessed 11/06/2012)

claims there are over 60 sculptures in the forest).


http://visitlakelandforests.co.uk/

506


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Grizedale 1 Monument Hawkshead,

Cumbria Monument No. A post-medieval country house,

built in c.1905, on the site of a

507

Hall (SD 39 SW 4) previous 16th century house.

Source: PastScape

Grizedale

Corn Mill

2 Monument Satterthwaite,

Cumbria Depositor ID:

18314

Site of a water powered corn mill or

fulling mill of probably post-

medieval date.


HER

Grizedale

Summer

House

3 Monument Satterthwaite,


17429

Site of a summer house of unknown

date.


HER

Iron Ore

Dump

4 Monument Mires Wood,

Grizedale,

Cumbria

Depositor ID:

30180

Site of an iron ore disposal site of

unknown date.


HER

Saw Mill 5 Monument Grizedale,


30179

Site of a saw mill of unknown date.


HER

Old Hall 6 Monument Grizedale,


32588

Site of a hall house of post-

medieval (Victorian) date.


HER



508

STAND-ALONE

GZ1

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: One possible tool of percussion: Square, slate ‘hammer rock’, 9 x 6 x 1cm,

abraded at edges. Located beside coin-tree.

Proximity to path: Directly west of path


Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easily accessible, directly beside path near entrance to the Millwood Trail,

beneath the Go Ape course.



Elevation: 376ft


509

Coins: 13

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on top of stump, random distribution.


1p 9 2008

2p 3 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 3 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

CLUSTER 1

GZ2

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: Many potential tools of percussion; many rocks on the floor.

Proximity to GZ3: 705cm west of GZ3

Proximity to path: In the middle of the path

Proximity to river: 438cm south-south-west of river

Ease of access: Easily accessible, in the middle of the path. However, not particularly visible

as it is very low to the ground; many people stepped over/on it without noticing.

Class of decay: 4

Grid reference: SD 33566 94572 12ft


Elevation: 451ft


Coins: 17

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on top of stump, radial distribution. Two coins

were resting loosely on top.


1p 10 1996, 2010

2p 3 Unknown

5p 2 Unknown

10p 1 Unknown

510

20p 1 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

GZ3

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: Two possible tools of percussion: A rounded limestone ‘hammer rock’, 17

x 12 x 8cm, with moss growing on one side and some abrasion, located in front of coin-tree;

and a rectangular granite ‘hammer rock’, 13 x 10 x 8cm, with no visible abrasion, situated on

top of coin-tree.

Proximity to GZ4: 668cm

Proximity to path: Directly to the south-south-west of path


Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 451ft


Coins: 1590

Other features/objects: One metal bolt resting on top, one nail

Discernible patterning of coins: 862 coins on top of stump, random distribution, and 728 on

side of stump, longitudinal distribution. 46 coins bent over.


1p 871 1999, 2003, 2006, 2007, post-2008 (coat-of-

arms design), 2008, 201-, 2010, 2010

2p 605 1971, 1979, 1988, 1988, 200-, 200-, 2000,

2003, 2006, 2007, 3 x post-2008 (coat-of-

arms design)

5p 51 1992, 20--, 200-, 2005, 2006, 2006, 2 x post-

2008 (coat-of-arms design), 2008

10p 25 2007

20p 13 Unknown

50p 0 -

511

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 7 Tanzanian coin, 1 euro cent, 5 unknown

foreign coins

Unknown 18 Unknown

GZ4

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: 355cm south-south-west of path


Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Quite a steep climb from the path.



Elevation: 451ft


Coins: 7

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on top of stump. 3 are inserted in cracks with a

radial distribution; the remaining 4 are randomly distributed.



2p 1 -

5p 2 2008

10p 0 -

20p 1 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

GZ5

Condition: Stump

Grizedale 1

512

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Directly south-west of path

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easily accessible, directly beside path



Elevation: 428ft


Coins: 1

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on top of stump. 3 are inserted in cracks with a

radial distribution; the remaining 4 are randomly distributed.


1p 1 2009

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

0 0

3 17%

15 83%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010

Dates of Coins at Grizedale

Mode = 2008

Median = 2007

Mean = 2005

513

2.23 – Hardcastle Crags Case-Study

Case-study name: Hardcastle Crags (HC)


Case-study location: Hardcastle Crags, Yorkshire, England

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): Prior to 2004, (pers. comm. Andrew

Marsh, National Trust Warden, personal correspondence 27/09/2011)



Attractions nearby: Gibson Mill, National Trust

Number of coin-trees/stumps/logs at site: On 31/03/2012, 5 (originally 6; the main one had

been stolen). On 09/04/2012, 6 (HC5 had been added in that space of time).

Additional information: First visit: 31/03/2012. Second visit: 09/04/2012. During the time

between visits, a new coin-tree (HC5) had developed, and new coins had been added. The

tree and coins absent on first visit, but present on second visit, will be underlined and

italicised.

894 55%

612 38%

54 3.3%

26 1.6%

17 1% 0 0 0

7 0.4%

18 1.1%


Unknown

Denominations of Coins at Grizedale

Total = 1628

515

Sites and monuments within 500metres of coin-tree:

Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Charcoal

Burning

Platform

1 Monument Hardcastle

Crags,

Calderdale,

Yorkshore

NT HBSMR

Number:

31185*0

An unusual charcoal burning

platform, post-medieval, at the

junction of Shackleton Wood

and Hardcastle Crags.


Charcoal

Burning

Platform


Crags,

Calderdale,

Yorkshore

NT HBSMR

Number:

31180*0

Post-medieval charcoal burning

platform, below Black Scout.


Charcoal

Burning

Platform


Crags,

Calderdale,

Yorkshore

NT HBSMR

Number:

31183*0

Post-medieval charcoal

burning platform, Black

Scout.


HBSMR

Charcoal

Burning

Platform


Crags,

Calderdale,

Yorkshore

NT HBSMR

Number:

31181*0


burning platform, to the east

of Black Scout.


HBSMR

Charcoal

Burning

Platform


Crags,

Calderdale,

Yorkshore

NT HBSMR

Number:

31182*0


burning platform, Black

Scout.


HBSMR

Charcoal 6 Monument Hardcastle NT HBSMR Post-medieval charcoal

516

Burning

Platform

Crags,

Calderdale,

Yorkshore

Number:

31186*0

burning platform.


HBSMR

Charcoal

Burning

Platform


Crags,

Calderdale,

Yorkshore

NT HBSMR

Number:

31177*0


burning platform, below

Willow Gate Rock.


HBSMR

Charcoal

Burning

Platform


Crags,

Calderdale,

Yorkshore

NT HBSMR

Number:

31179*0


burning platform, south-east

of Black Scout.


HBSMR

Charcoal

Burning

Platform


Crags,

Calderdale,

Yorkshore

NT HBSMR

Number:

31176*0


burning platform, Foul Scout

Wood.


HBSMR

Charcoal

Burning

Platform


Crags,

Calderdale,

Yorkshore

NT HBSMR

Number:

31175*0


burning platform, Foul Scout

Wood.


HBSMR

Charcoal

burning

platform

11 Monument Harcastle Crags,

Calderdale,

Yorkshire

NT HBSMR

Number:

31178*0


burning platform, south of

Rabbit Hole.


HBSMR

Gibson Mill 12 Monument Harcastle Crags,

Calderdale,

Yorkshire

NT HBSMR

Number:

31164*0

A nineteenth-century water

powered cotton mill, disused

c.1895. Includes weaving

shed, workers’ cottages,

engine house, stable, privy,

access road.


HBSMR

The Gothic

Lodge

13 Monument Harcastle Crags,

Calderdale,

Yorkshire

NT HBSMR

Number:

31884*0

A small nineteenth-century

gate lodge at the Midhole

Lane entrance to Hardcastle

Crags.


HBSMR

Tom Bell’s

Cave

14 Find Spot Harcastle Crags,

Calderdale,

Yorkshire

Monument

Number: (SD

92 NE 27)

A cave at Hardcastle Crags

in which a human skull was

found in 1899. Date of skull

and current location

517

unknown.

Source: PastScape Source: http://www.heritagegateway.org.uk/gateway/advanced_search.aspx (Accessed 01/04/2012)


518

HC1

Condition: Log

Species: Softwood


Proximity to path: Directly beside two paths, north-east and south-west of paths

Proximity to river: 4.5m north of river

Proximity to HC2: 88cm

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Directly beside one path and directly overhanging another, although it

required a little climbing on a muddy slope to reach all of the coins.

Orientation: North-east

Grid reference: SD 97975 29204 (± 14ft)


Elevation: 580ft


Coins: 46

Discernible patterning of coins: On the log end, they appear to follow pre-existing

transverse and radial cracks. On the trunk, they follow longitudinally along the grain.

519


1p 18 2001, 2008, 2010

2p 12 1987, 2001

5p 9 200-, 2007

10p 3 2003

20p 2 1984

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 2 Unknown

HC2

Condition: Log

Species: Softwood


Proximity to path: Directly beside one of the main paths, north-east of path


Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Very easy. Directly beside one of the paths.

Orientation: north-east



Elevation: 580ft


Coins: 55

Discernible patterning of coins: Predominantly longitudinally following the grain. One coin

has been folded over


1p 25 2000, 2001

2p 16 1994, 2004

5p 3 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 10 Unknown

520

HC3

Condition: Log

Species: Softwood


Proximity to path: Directly beside the main path, south-west of path

Proximity to river: Directly beside the river, east of river

Class of decay: 4

Ease of access: Very easy. Directly beside the main path.

Orientation: south-east



Elevation: 560ft


Coins: 11 (+ 1 recent addition)

Discernible patterning of coins: The majority have been inserted on branch stumps, less

decayed than the trunk. A few coins have been folded over.


1p 8, 1 1999

2p 3 Post-2008

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

HC4

Condition: Log


Associated tools: A rounded and abraded sandstone rock at the base of HC5, 16x4x11cm

Proximity to path: 4.2m north-east of the main path

Proximity to river: 9m north-east of the main path

Proximity to HC5: Touching, south-east-east

521

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: A little off the main path, but easy to access.

Orientation: south-east-east



Elevation: 491ft


Coins: 3

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinally following the grain.


1p 0 -

2p 0 -

5p 2 20--

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

HC5 (recent addition)



Associated tools: A rounded and abraded sandstone rock at the base of HC5, 16x4x11cm

Proximity to path: 4.2m north-east of the main path

Proximity to river: 9m north-east of the main path

Class of decay: n/a

Ease of access: Easy. A little off the path but easy to access.



Elevation: 491ft

Girth: 274cm

Coins: 2


522


1p 0 -

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 1 2005 - Design celebrating the

250th Anniversary of Samuel

Johnson's Dictionary of the

English Language.

£1 1 Unknown

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

HC6

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown

Associated tools: A rectangular and minimally abraded sandstone rock 97cm from its base,

11x6x5cm

Proximity to path: 1.7m north of main path

Proximity to river: 8m north of river

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easy. Beside main path.

Grid reference: SD 97452 29487 (±14ft)

Latitude: 53.76173 Longitude: 2.04014 (±17ft)

Elevation: 550ft


Diameter: 48cm

Coins: 19 (+ 5 recent additions)

Discernible patterning of coins: Radial patterning, most having been inserted into pre-

existing cracks

Other notable features: 35 nails and the markings of 3 other nails


1p 7, 5 199-, post-2008

2p 2 Unknown

5p 6 Unknown

10p 1 Unknown

523

20p 2 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 Unknown 2011

Unknown 0 -

0

2 14%

3 21%

8 57%

1 7%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Hardcastle Crags

Mode = 2001

Median = 2001

Mean = 2001

64 45%

33 23%

20 14%

5 4%

5 4% 1

0.7% 1

0.7% 1

0.7%

12 8%

1p 2p 5p 10p 20p 50p £1 Foreign currency

Unknown

Denominations of Coins at Hardcastle Crags

Total = 142

524

2.24 – High Force Case-Study

Case-study name: High Force (HF)


Case-study location: High Force Waterfall, County Durham, England

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?):

Case-study environment: Small wooded area beside High Force waterfall

Land ownership: Raby Estate

Attractions nearby: The waterfall makes this a popular tourist/walkers destination

Number of coin-trees/stumps/logs at site: 9 (originally 10 but one was destroyed, pers.

comm. Steve Gillard, Visitor Attraction Manager, Raby Estate, 16/07/2012)

525


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Monument

Numner:

1 Find Spot Forest and

Frith,

Monument

Number:

A Bronze Age bronze palstave

and a flint scraper were found in

526

(NY 82 NE

18)

County

Durham

(NY 82

NE 18)

1957. They are now stored at

Bowes Museum.

Source: PastScape

High Force 2 Find Spot Forest and

Frith,

County

Durham

Monument

Number:

(NY 82

NE 5)

Twelve 4th century brass Roman

coins were found at High Force in

1844.

Source: PastScape

Foregarth

Pasture

South

3 Monument Forest and

Frith,

County

Durham

Monument

Number:

(NY 82

NE 8)

A Romano period native

settlement situated at Force Garth,

in Upper Teesdale. The settlement

occupies a large artificial scoop in

the hillside, enclosed by a rubble

bank. Inside this enclosure are

five small scoops, each about 7

metres in diameter. Excavation

has shown that they are the sites

of hut circles. Finds from the

excavations include spindle

whorls, saddle and rotary querns,

and pottery, including some

Roman Samian ware.

Source: PastScape

Force Garth 4 Monument Forest and

Frith,

County

Durham

Monument

Number:

(NY 82

NE 87)

A Roman period field system

which lies south and east of East

Force Garth, extending from

Force Garth Quarry to Hag Sike.

Source: PastScape

Force Garth 5 Monument Forest and

Frith,

County

Durham

Monument

Number:

(NY 82

NE 6)

Three medieval bloomer iron

smelting sites, a lead smelting

site, and at least four charcoal

pits, situated at Force Garth.

Source: PastScape

Sun Wood 6 Monument Forest and

Frith,

County

Durham

Monument

Number:

(NY 82

NE 94)

A small medieval iron bloomery

slag heap situated 350m south

east of East Force Garth on the

west bank of Smithy Sike.

Source: PastScape



528

CLUSTER 1

HF1

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: Slightly abraded, squared piece of (possibly) Whin Sill dolerite, 10x8x6cm



Class of decay: 4

Ease of access: Relatively easy to access, although it requires climbing over rocks


Grid reference: NY 88068 28422 (±14ft)


Elevation: 944ft

529


Coins: 235

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinal distribution, following the grain. Many

exhibiting damage through percussion, with several deliberately bent over

Other notable features: Covered with a lot of graffiti


1p 103 1987, 2001

2p 68 1980, 1980, 1997

5p 21 2010

10p 27 Unknown

20p 14 2008

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 2 Unknown

HF2

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: see HF1

Proximity to HF1: Leaning on HF1, 2 metres from western end of HF1



Class of decay: 4

Ease of access: Quite difficult to access, requires climbing over rocks

Orientation: South-west to north-east



Elevation: 944ft

Length: 3.18m Girth: 50.5cm

Coins: 6

Discernible patterning of coins: All inserted into log-end. Some damage through percussion


1p 3 2010

2p 2 Unknown

530

5p 0 -

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

HF3

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood




Class of decay: 4

Ease of access: Quite difficult to access, requires climbing, the lowest point is 1.5m above

ground

Orientation: North to south



Elevation: 944ft


Coins: 54

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinal distribution, following the grain. Some

damage through percussion

Other notable features: Some graffiti on tree, e.g. ‘RCA’. One coin is labelled ‘E’. Close to

a young tree with a sock draped over its branch; a possible imitation of the rag-tree custom?


1p 37 1995, 2007

2p 10 1988, 2000, 2003, 2006

5p 4 2003

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 1 Unknown

531

HF4


Species: Lime (Tilia)


Proximity to HF1: 8.3m


Proximity to path: Directly south-east of path

Proximity to river: 10m north-west of river

Ease of access: Easy to access, directly beside path



Elevation: 944ft

Girth: 80cm

Coins: 48

Discernible patterning of coins: Following the grain. Some damage through percussion

Highest coin: 1.97m


1p 11 1976

2p 26 1988, 1994, 200-, 2001, 2001

5p 3 Unknown

10p 5 200-

20p 3 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

HF5



Associated tools: None, inserted into gaps in bark


Proximity to path: 1.1m south-west of path

Proximity to river: 6m south-east of river

The coin-

clustered bark

of HF4

532




Elevation: 944ft

Girth: 168cm

Highest coin: 1.04m

Coins: 3



1p 2 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

HF6

Condition: Log

Species: Lime (Tilia)


Proximity to path: 1.7m north-east of path

Proximity to river: 12m north-east of river

Class of decay: 3


Orientation: North-east to south-west



Elevation: 944ft


Coins: 1

Discernible patterning of coins: 11cm from log end, inserted longitudinally. Some damage

through percussion

HF5

533


1p 0 -

2p 1 2001

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

HF7

Condition: Fence post

Species: n/a


Proximity to path: Directly on path, north-north-west of path

Ease of access: Easily accessed



Elevation: 1002ft


Coins: 1

Discernible patterning of coins: Inserted into the top of fence post

Other notable features: A nail is also inserted into the top, but possible for practical

purposes


1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

The single coin in

HF6

HF1-HF5 of Cluster 1

534

STAND-ALONE

HF8

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: 70cm north-north-west of path

Class of decay: 4

Ease of access: Easily accessed



Elevation: 994ft


Coins: 4

Discernible patterning of coins: Inserted into stump end, in pre-existing cracks


1p 3 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

HF9

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: 1.3m south of path

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Quite difficult to access; surrounded by nettles and requires climbing down

from the path


535


Elevation: 1030ft


Coins: 1


1p 0 -

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

3 14%

3 14%

4 19%

11 52%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010

Dates of Coins at High Force

160 45%

108 31%

29 8%

34 10% 18

5% 0 0 0

1 0.3%

3 0.8%


Unknown

Denominations of Coins at High Force

Mode = 2001

Median = 2001

Mean = 1997

Total = 353

536

2.25 – Ingleton Case-Study

Case-study name: Ingleton


Case-study location: Ingleton Waterfalls Trail, Yorkshire, England

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): Between 10-20 years according to

many of my interviewees

Case-study environment: Riverside forest

Land ownership: Privately owned (estate managed by David Hill Managing Agents)

Attractions nearby: The Ingleton Waterfalls Trail is a popular walk


539


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Monument

No.

589192

1 Monument Ingleton,

Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument

No. 589192

Uncertain weir, probably

associated with Ingleton

Cotton Mill.

Source: PastScape

Thornton

Hall

2 Monument Thornton-in-

Lonsdale,

Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument

No. 44022

Medieval and post-medieval

(1600-1700) house.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No.

1037892


Lonsdale,

Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument

No.

1037892

Earthworks of possible

medieval or later quarries.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No.

1037895


Lonsdale,

Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument

No.

1037895

Probably medieval or later

field system (ridge and

furrow) seen as earthworks.

Source: PastScape

Twistleton

Manor

House


Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument

No. 44023

Post-medieval manor house,

1717-present.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No.

589181


Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument

No. 589181

Post-medieval lime kiln,

1540-1901.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No.

589182


Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument

No. 589182

Post-medieval limestone

quarry, 1540-1901.

Source: PastScape

Meal Bank

Quarry


Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument

No. SD 67

SE 20

19th century limestone quarry

and associated works – lime

kiln, lime works, mineral

railway, tramway, and

Hoffman kiln – at Mealbank.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No.

590431


Craven, North

Yorkshire

Monument

No. 590431

Post-medieval slate quarry.

Source: PastScape



544

IG1

Condition: Living

Species: Alder (Alnus)


Proximity to path: 35cm north-north-west of path

Proximity to river: several metres above the river, north-north-west of river




Elevation: 479ft

Girth: 1.12m

Coins: 1

Height of coin: 1.6m


1p 0 -

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG2

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Directly beside path, south-west of path

Proximity to river: 2m south-west of river

Class of decay: 4




545

Elevation: 542ft

Height: 1.5m Girth: 1.5m

Coins: 4

Discernible patterning of coins: Inserted longitudinally up the stump in a gap in the moss.

Slight damage through percussion


1p 4 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG3

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: 3 jagged, rectangular limestone rocks I witnessed being used as tools of

percussion: 12x11x5cm; 15x9x4cm; 13x7x2cm

Proximity to path: Directly beside path; many people walked under the arch of the tree


Class of decay: 2

Ease of access: Easily accessible, although the top of the arch of the coin-tree is too high for

most people to reach at 1.9m

Orientation: west to south



Elevation: 459ft

Height of arch: 1.3m


Coins: at least 48,830

Discernible patterning of coins: Distributed longitudinally, following the curve of the log in

a wave-like pattern. The vast majority of coins have been bent over.

546

Other notable features: 6 coins with nails hammered through their centres (2p, 2000; 2p,

2000, 20p). A cluster of 6 long, rusty nails bent over. A 2p with a hole in it. Two coins which

appear to be pre-decimalisation one pennies, due to their size (31mm in diameter) and

patterning, although the dates are worn away. However, as many participants could not

remember the coin-tree being there 20+ years ago, it is likely that these coins were inserted

post-1971, either by employees of the Ingleton Scenery Company (for tourism, possibly?) or

simply by someone who had old coins.



penny

Possibly 2 Pre-1971

1p 24,490 1971, 1971, 1971, 1974, 1974, 1986, 1986,

1987, 1987, 1989, 1990, 1990, 1990, 1991,

1991, 1991, 1991, 1992, 1992, 1993, 1994,

1994, 1994, 1996, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1998,

1998, 1999, 1999, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000,

2000, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2002,

2002, 2003, 2003, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2005,

2005, 2005, 2006, 2006, 2007, 45 x post-2008

(coat-of-arms design), 2008, 2008, 2008,

2010, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2011, 2011,

2011, 2011, 2011

2p 20,967 1971, 1975, 1975, 1978, 1978, 1978, 1979,

1979, 1979, 1979, 1980, 1980, 1980, 1980,

1980, 1980, 1980, 1980, 1980, 1980, 1980,

1980, 1981, 1981, 1981, 1981, 1981, 1986,

1987, 1987, 1987, 1987, 1987, 1987, 1988,

1988, 1988, 1988, 1988, 1988, 1988, 1988,

1988, 1988, 1988, 1988, 1989, 1989, 1989,

1989, 1989, 1989, 1991, 1991, 1991, 1992,

1992, 1993, 1993, 1993, 1996, 1996, 1997,

1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1998,

1998, 1998, 1998, 1999, 1999, 1999, 1999,

1999, 20--, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000,

2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000,

2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001,

2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001,

2001, 2001, 2002, 2002, 2002, 2002, 2002,

2002, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2004, 2004, 2005,

2005, 2005, 2005, 2006, 2006, 2006, 2007,

2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 56


2008, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2011, 2011,

2011

5p 1083 1998, 17 x post-2008 (coat-of-arms design),

2008, 2012

10p 682 1992, 1992, 1992, 20--, 2000, 2001, 2003,

2007, 32 x post-2008 (coat-of-arms design),

2008

20p 51 2001

547

50p 3 Unknown

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 14 2 Polish groszy, 2 Polish groszy, 5 Polish

groszy, 1 American cent, 5 euro cents, 5 euro

cents, 20 euro cents, 20 euro cents, 20 euro

cents, 1 Greek drachma, 4 unknown foreign

coins

Unknown 1538 Unknown

IG4

Condition: A wooden post containing information about the ‘Money Tree’: “The Money

Tree: Does money really grow on trees? Most of the coins in this tree are 2p pieces. Can you

find any very old coins in the tree? Some people say pushing a coin into the tree trunk will

bring you good luck.”

Species: n/a

Associated tools: See IG3



Proximity to IG3: 3m




Elevation: 459ft


Coins: 52

Discernible patterning of coins: Some coins on side of post, inserted longitudinally; the

others on top of post, distributed around the sign. A few coins bent over.


1p 28 1979, 1994, 1999, 1999,

2008, 2010

2p 14 1986, 1988, 2003

5p 4 2005

10p 3 Unknown

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 1 Unknown

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 1 Polish grosz

Unknown 0 -

548

IG5

Condition: Fragment

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Directly in path

Proximity to river: 9m west of path

Proximity to IG3: 160cm


Class of decay: 4

Ease of access: Easily accessible, although decaying badly



Elevation: 459ft

Dimensions: 52x60x36cm

Coins: 28

Discernible patterning of coins: Inserted longitudinally. One coin bent over


1p 13 Unknown

2p 11 Post-2008 (coat-of-arms

design)

5p 3 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG6

Condition: Living



Proximity to path: 1.2m west of path


Proximity to IG3: 3.2m

549




Elevation: 459ft

Girth: 41cm

Coins: 4

Highest coin: 115cm



1p 2 Unknown

2p 1 Unknown

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG7

Condition: Living









Elevation: 459ft

Girth: 60cm

Coins: 3

Highest coin: 141cm


1p 3 Unknown

550

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG8

Condition: Living



Proximity to path: 3m west of path






Elevation: 459ft

Girth: 19cm

Coins: 2

Highest coin: 192cm



1p 2 1999, 2001

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

551

IG9

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood




Proximity to IG3: Touching

Class of decay: 2


Orientation: north-east to south-west



Elevation: 459ft


Coins: 4



1p 4 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG10

Condition: Living




552






Elevation: 459ft

Girth: 22cm

Coins: 2

Highest coin: 130cm



1p 1 Unknown

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG11

Condition: Living









Elevation: 459ft

Girth: 70cm

Coins: 8

553

Highest coin: 143cm

Discernible patterning of coins: Random distribution

Other notable features: Graffiti engraved into the bark: a love-heart with ‘K + A’ in centre.


1p 4 2006

2p 4 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG12

Condition: Living










Elevation: 459ft

Girth: 17cm

Coins: 1


Height of coin: 134cm


1p 0 -

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

554

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG13

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: directly beside path, east of path

Proximity to river: 1.2m west of river

Proximity to IG3: Opposite side of path the primary coin-tree: 3.55m away

Class of decay: 3


Orientation: north-west to south-east



Elevation: 459ft


Coins: 39

Discernible patterning of coins: longitudinal distribution. Some damage caused by

percussion


1p 22 Unknown

2p 13 200-, 2010

5p 1 Unknown

10p 2 Unknown

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG14

Condition: Log

555

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Directly beside path, east of path

Proximity to river: 2.6m west of river



Class of decay: 3





Elevation: 459ft


Coins: 3

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on log end


1p 2 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG15

Condition: Living







556



Elevation: 459ft

Girth: 1.3m

Coins: 1


Height of coin: 148cm


1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG16

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood



Proximity to river: eastern end in river, west of river


Class of decay: 3


Orientation: west to east



Elevation: 459ft


Coins: 12


557


1p 6 1998, 2002

2p 4 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 2 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

IG17

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Directly beside path, south-east of path


Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 552ft


Coins: 8

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins longitudinally distributed along top of log. Some

damage through percussion


1p 3 Unknown

2p 4 Unknown

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

558

CLUSTER 2

IG18

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Directly beside path, south-east-east of path

Proximity to river: 10m north-west-west of river

Proximity to IG18: Directly below

Class of decay: 3





Elevation: 545ft


Coins: 258

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinal distribution. Some coins bent over.


1p 142 2011

2p 103 1990, 1999, 2000

5p 7 Unknown

10p 6 1997

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG19

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood




559

Class of decay: 3


Orientation: north to south



Elevation: 545ft


Coins: 6608

Discernible patterning of coins: Primarily longitudinal. Some coins are bent over.

Other notable features: Coins patterned to form either ‘BB’ or ‘AB’ within a square of

coins. A 2p pence inscribed with ‘R & L’ dated 197-, and nailed to the tree. 1 screw inserted.


1p 3992 1980, 1988, 1990, 1998, 1998, 2000, 2004,

2007, 2008

2p 2456 197-, 1971, 1980, 1986, 1988, 1989, 1990,

1991, 1997, 1998, 1998, 1999, 2000, 2000,

2000, 2001, 2001, 2002, 2002, 2004, 2006,

2007, 2007, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010

5p 68 1991, 1992, 1995

10p 52

20p 15

50p 1

£1 0

£2 0

Foreign currency 1 Hungarian forint

Unknown 23

IG20

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood





Class of decay: 3



560


Elevation: 545ft


Coins: 2



1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG21

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Directly beside path, north-west-west of path

Class of decay: 3


Orientation: north-west-west to south-east-east



Elevation: 539ft


Coins: 2



1p 2 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

561

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG22

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Directly beside path, on opposite side to IG21: south-east-east of path


Class of decay: 3


Orientation: north-west-west to south-east-east



Elevation: 539ft


Coins: 1

Discernible patterning of coins: Coin on top of log. Damaged through percussion.


1p 0 -

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

CLUSTER 4

IG23

Condition: Stump

562

Species: Hardwood




Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 532ft


Coins: 13

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on top of stump. Some damage through percussion.


1p 9 Unknown

2p 4 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG24

Condition: Wooden post, bearing information about the oak tree

Species: n/a








Elevation: 532ft

563


Coins: 1

Discernible patterning of coins: Coin on side of post, near the top


1p 0 -

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

IG25

Condition: Living



Proximity to path: Two paths wrap around it

Proximity to river: 8m south-west of river




Elevation: 356ft

Girth: 88cm

Height of coined limb: 1m

Coins: 24

Discernible patterning of coins: Primarily longitudinal. Many coins bent over.


1p 16 2002, 2003, 2006, 2006,

2007, 2007, 2008

2p 5 2000

5p 2 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

564

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 1 Unknown

CLUSTER 5

IG26

Condition: Stump





Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 572ft


Coins: 86

Discernible patterning of coins: Annular. Roughly one third are bent over.


1p 33 2000, 2001, 2003, post-2008


2p 27 1994, 1997, 1997, 1999,

2006

5p 11 200-, 2 x post-2008 (coat-of-

arms design)

10p 10 Unknown

20p 2 2008

50p 1 199-

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 1 Unknown

565

CLUSTER 5

IG27

Condition: Log






Class of decay: 3


Orientation: south-east to north-west



Elevation: 572ft


Coins: 1

Discernible patterning of coins: Coin on log end.


1p 0 -

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

IG28

Condition: Wooden sculpture in the shape of three toadstools (IG28a, IG28b, IG28c)

Species: n/a


Proximity to path: 88cm north-west of path

566





Elevation: 581ft

Height: IG28a: 95cm; IG28b: 100cm; IG28c: 120cm

Girth: IG28a: 56cm; IG28b: 78cm; IG28c: 106cm

Coins: 675

Discernible patterning of coins: The majority of coins on the head of the toadstools, radial

distribution. Some coins bent over.


1p 367 1976, 1987, 1988, 199-, 1995, 2000, 2001,

2001, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2005, 2005,

2007, 2008, 2008, 2008, 2009, 2009,

2010, 2010

2p 233 1971, 1976, 1980, 1988, 1988, 1988, 199-,

1994, 1994, 1994, 1997, 1998, 1998,

1998, 200-, 200-, 2000, 2000, 2002, 2003,

2003, 2004, 2004, 2005, 2005, 2005,

2007, 2008, 2010, 2010, 2011, 2011

5p 32 1999, 2004, 2008

10p 30 199-, 1992, 2006, 2006

20p 4 1991

50p 0 -

£1 1 Unknown

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 5 10 euro cent, Polish groszy, 3 unknown

Unknown 3 Unknown

CLUSTER 6

IG29

Condition: Log






Class of decay: 3

567


Orientation: south-east to north-west



Elevation: 590ft


Height of log-end: 127cm above path

Coins: 14

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on log end, random distribution.


1p 6 3 x post-2008 (coat-of-arms design)

2p 3 Unknown

5p 3 Unknown

10p 2 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IG30

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood





Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Fairly easily accessible, but concealed behind foliage



Elevation: 590ft


Coins: 223

568

Discernible patterning of coins: On log end, coins are in a neat linear pattern, all folded. On

top, coins are longitudinally distributed. All coins on log end are bent over.


1p 91 Unknown

2p 117 2007

5p 8 Unknown

10p 7 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

34 9%

66 18%

114 31%

140 38%

13 4%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Ingleton

2 0.004%

29244 51%

23971 42%

1224 2.2%

797 1.4%

77 0.14%

5 0.009%

2 0.004% 0

22 0.4%

1566 2.8%

Denominations of Coins at Ingleton

Mode = 2000

Median = 2000

Mean = 1997

Total = 56910

569

2.26 – Isle Maree Case-Study

Case-study name: Isle Maree (IM)


Case-study location: Isle Maree, Loch Maree, Wester Ross, Scotland

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): 18th

/19th

centuries

Case-study environment: A small island of oak, sweet chestnut, and Scots pine, close to the

northern shore of Loch Maree

Land ownership: Privately owned by Duncan Mackenzie. Managed by Scottish Natural

Heritage.

Attractions nearby: Maelrubha’s cell (or chapel), now a ruin. A sacred well, no longer there.

A ‘druid circle’, dated to c.100 BC


571


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Mound,

possible

tower

house

1 Monument Isle Maree,

Gairloch,

Highlands

Site No.

NG97SW2

Canmore

ID: 12050

A mount located on the island,

approximately 4.0m high and composed of

rock. It shows no evidence of antiquity, but

is the only mound which may refer to

Dixon’s (1886) description of a tower built

on Isle Maree by a Norse prince.

Source: Canmore

Well

Burial

ground

Chapel

Cross

slabs

2

3

4

5

Monument Isle Maree,

Gairloch,

Highlands

Site No.

NG97SW1

Canmore

ID: 12049

Burial ground, enclosed by a rubble wall. In

1861 it contained 50-60 graves. Workmen

from the 17th c. iron-furnaces at Poolewe are

said to have been buried here. The last burial

took place in 1925.

The site of a chapel founded by St

Maelrubha, as an oratory, between 671 and

722. There were some remains on the spot in

1861 which were too fragmentary to

determine a date of construction, but no

surveyable traces now remain.

A small, built well with a cover slab.

Source: Canmore

Source: http://canmore.rcahms.gov.uk/en/site/12049/details/isle+maree/ (Accessed 24/01/2012)

http://canmore.rcahms.gov.uk/en/site/12049/details/isle+maree/

572

IM1

Condition: Log, propped upright


Associated tools: Applies to all coin-trees at Isle Maree. Three rocks possibly used as

percussion tools within the cluster of coin-trees. Jagged and minimally abraded Lewisian

gneiss (common in north-western Scotland): 14x10.5x8cm. Rounded and slightly rectangular

Torridonian sandstone with no visible damage (also common in the area): 11x10x3.5cm

and15x8x6cm.

Proximity to path: Applies to all coin-trees at Isle Maree. The path, small and neither

officially created or maintained, leads directly to the cluster of coin-trees – those visiting the

island no doubt go immediately to the trees, and so the path was probably created because of

this – Muddock wrote in the 1890s: “A track, worn by the feet of visitors, leads to the centre of the

island” (1898: 437)

Proximity to loch: The closest loch-shore is 22.6 metres south

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Applies to all coin-trees at Isle Maree. Not easily accessible. It is on an

island which, up until two years ago, was accessible only to those who arranged a boat-trip

via the Loch Maree Hotel. Now, following the closure of this hotel, it is very rarely visited.

Once on the island, however, the tree is easily accessible.

573

Proximity to IM2: 12cm


Proximity to IM4: Touching





Proximity to IM9: 3m

Proximity to IM10: 3.6m






Grid reference: NG 93101 72341 (± 9ft)

Latitude: 57.69323 (± 9ft) Longitude: -5.47316 (± 9ft)

Elevation: 36ft


Orientation: Leaning north-south (southern end on ground)

Coins: 613

Discernible patterning of coins: The vast majority are inserted with the grain, running

longitudinally up the trunk. Several coins are bowed, and one appears to have been broken

cleanly in half.

Other notable features: In addition to coins there was 1 golden eagle badge, 1 silver chain,

1 crystal love-heart earring, 1 nail.


Halfpenny 12 1929

One Penny (pre-

decimalisation)

485 1897, 1898, 1899, 1900, 1904, 1905, 1905,

1905, 1913, 1914, 1914, 1915, 1915, 1915,

1915, 1915, 1915, 1916, 1918, 1919, 192?,

1920, 1920, 1921, 1930, 1934, 1937

Two Shillings 3

1p (post-

decimalisation)

28 2000, 2004, 2005, 2007, 2009, 2009, post-

2008 (coat of arms)

2p 28 1978, 1992, 1997, 2001, 2007, 2007

5p 4 200?

10p 10 1992, 2002

20p 3 Unknown

574

50p 1 2001

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 5 5 Dutch guilder coin 1985, 10 Dutch cents, 1

euro cent, 1 US cent, unknown foreign coin

Unknown 34 Unknown

IM2

Condition: Log on the ground


Class of decay: 4


Orientation: laid on ground east-west



Elevation: 36ft


Coins in/on tree: 209

Discernible patterning of coins: Those that are inserted are arranged longitudinally along

one long single crack. Many of them, however, are simply resting loosely on the top. 5 coins

are crooked

Other notable features: 1 red candle


Halfpenny 1 1911

One Penny (pre-

decimalisation)

51 1875, 1889, 1897, 1899, 1902, 1906, 1906, 1912, 1912, 1914,

1915, 1916, 1916, 1916, 1917, 1917, 1917, 1917, 1918, 1918,

1918, 1919, 1919, 1919, 1919, 1919, 1920, 1920, 1921, 1921,

1921, 1921, 1927, 1929, 1938, 1945, 1948

Two Shillings 1 1956

1p (post-

decimalisation)

25 1990, 1991, 1992, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2000, 2003, 2004,

2008, 2008

2p 55 1978, 1978, 1980, 1980, 1980, 1980, 1980, 1980, 1987, 1988,

1988, 1990, 1991, 1991, 1991, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992,

1994, 1997, 1997, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2002, 2002,

2005, 2009

5p 13 1990, 1990, 1997, 1997, 1999, 2001, 2002, 2004

10p 22 1971, 1975, 1980, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992,

1992, 1996, 2000

20p 10 1982, 1995

50p 4 1997, 1997

575

£1 3 1993

£2 0 -

Foreign

currency

4 1 Dutch guilders 2005, 5 US cents 1977, 5 euro cents, unknown

foreign coin

Unknown 30 Unknown

Coins on ground around ISLE MAREE 2: 390


Halfpenny 13 1903, 1910, 1916, 1919, 1930, 1931, 1931, 1940, 1941, 1944,

1952, 1957

One Penny

(pre-

decimalisation)

64 1897, 19--, 1904, 1905, 1905, 1907, 1910, 1912, 1912, 1913,

1914, 1915, 1916, 1916, 1916, 1916, 1916, 1916, 1916, 1916,

1917, 1917, 1917, 1917, 1917, 1918, 1919, 1920, 1920, 1920,

1921, 1921, 1921, 1921, 1921, 1923, 1927, 1928, 1929, 1930,

1936, 1936, 1936, 1936, 1937, 1938, 1944, 1945, 1945, 1948,

1949, 1962, 1963, 1964, 1967, 1967

Two Shillings 5 1956, 1958, 1966, 1966

1p (post-

decimalisation)

6 1985, 1996

2p 214 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971,

1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971,

1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1975, 1975, 1975, 1976, 1976,

1977, 1977, 1977, 1977, 1977, 1977, 1977, 1977, 1977, 1977,

1977, 1977, 1978, 1978, 1978, 1979, 1979, 1979, 1979, 1979,

1979, 198?, 1980, 1980, 1980, 1980, 1980, 1980, 1980, 1980,

1981, 1981, 1981, 1981, 1981, 1981, 1981, 1985, 1985, 1985,

1986, 1986, 1986, 1986, 1987, 1987, 1987, 1987, 1987, 1987,

1987, 1987, 1987, 1987, 1987, 1988, 1988, 1988, 1988, 1988,

1988, 1988, 1988, 1988, 1989, 1989, 1989, 1989, 1989, 1989,

1989, 1989, 1989, 1990, 1990, 1990, 1990, 1990, 1990, 1990,

1991, 1991, 1991, 1991, 1992, 1993, 1993, 1994, 1994, 1994,

1994, 1994, 1994, 1994, 1995, 1996, 1996, 1996, 1996, 1997,

1997, 1997, 1997, 1997, 1998, 1998, 1998, 1998, 1999, 1999,

1999, 200-, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2001,

2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001,

2001, 2001, 2001, 2002, 2002, 2002, 2002, 2003, 2003, 2003,

2004, 2004, 2004, 2004, 2005, 2005, 2005, 2006, 2006, 2007,

2008, 2009

5p 9 1980, 2001, 2001, 2004

10p 58 1968, 1969, 1969, 1970, 1970, 1975, 1976, 1977, 1979, 1980,

1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992,

1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992,

1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1995, 1995, 1996, 1996, 1997, 1997,

2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2002, 2002, 2003, 2003, 2003,

2003, 2004, 2004, 2006

20p 3 1983, 2001, 2010

50p 6 1969, 1997, 1997, 1999, 1999, 2006

£1 3 1983, 1996, 2001

576

£2 0 -

Foreign

currency

7 5 Canadian cents 1978, 20 euro cents 2001, 2 euro cents 2007, 5

Dutch guilder 1990, Eire 20p 1996, Australian 10 cents 1975,

Isle of Man 10p 1992

Unknown 2 Unknown

IM3

Condition: Fragment



Class of decay: 5

Orientation: laid on ground east-west



Elevation: 36ft


Coins: 7

Discernible patterning of coins: Most appear longitudinal


Halfpenny 1 Unknown

One Penny (pre-

decimalisation)

5 1949

Two Shillings 0 -


2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IM4

Condition: Log, propped up


577


Class of decay: 3

Orientation: leaning up east-west (western end on ground)



Elevation: 36ft


Coins: 216

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinally following the grain. Some are loose in a

gap. 10+ coins are crooked and bowed.

Other notable features: 1 nail


Halfpenny 6 Unknown

One Penny (pre-

decimalisation)

138 1898, 1904, 1908, 1909, 1909, 1912, 1915,

1920, 1920, 1929, 1929, 1934, 1935, 1936,

1937

Two Shillings 0 -

1p (post-

decimalisation)

14 1988, 1990, 1999, 2002

2p 20 1971, 1975, 1975, 1981, 1986, 1991, 1992,

1998, 2007

5p 4 1990, 1990, 1995

10p 7 Old ten pence, 1970, 1975

20p 6 1997

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 1 euro cent 2001

Unknown 0 -

IM5


Species: Hardwood


Class of decay: 3




578

Elevation: 36ft


Coins: 40 (The highest, a £1 coin, at a height of 273cm from the bottom of the tree – too high

to reach. It is possible that these were inserted before it was propped up)

Discernible patterning of coins: The majority are longitudinally following the grain


Halfpenny 0 -

One Penny (pre-

decimalisation)

0 -

Two Shillings 0 -

1p (post-

decimalisation)

6 1979, 1997, 1999, 2001

2p 17 198-, 1990, 1996, 1997, 1999, 2007

5p 3 1992, Coat of arms (post-2008)

10p 4 1992

20p 0 -

50p 1 1997

£1 1 Unknown

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 3 50 euro cents 2002, South Korean 500 Won

1999, 1 US cent

Unknown 5 Unknown

IM6




Class of decay: 3

Orientation: leaning north-south (northern end on ground)



Elevation: 36ft


Coins: 17

Discernible patterning of coins: Many are on the top log-end, most facing the same

direction


Halfpenny 0 -

One Penny (pre- 0 -

579

decimalisation)

Two Shillings 0 -

1p (post-decimalisation) 4 2000, 2002, 2006

2p 5 2001

5p 2 2006

10p 0 -

20p 1 2003

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 3 50 euro cents, 1 US cent

1991, unknown foreign coin

Unknown 0 -

IM7


Species: Hardwood


Class of decay: 3

Orientation: leaning up north-south (northern end on ground)



Elevation: 36ft


Coins: 0


Other notable features: Instead of coins, there are 2 black hair bobbles, 1 metal hairclip, 1

pink rag, 1 piece of string, 1 leather bootlace, 1 metal badge clip

IM8


Species: Hardwood


Class of decay: 3

Orientation: leaning up north-south (northern end on ground)

580



Elevation: 36ft


Coins: 27

Discernible patterning of coins: Many following one longitudinal crack. Some coins are

bowed.


Halfpenny 0 -

One Penny (pre-

decimalisation)

7 1909, 1921, 1921, 1930

Two Shillings 0 -

1p (post-decimalisation) 1 Unknown

2p 2 1997

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 5 euro cents

Unknown 14 Unknown

IM9

Condition: Log



Class of decay: 3

Orientation: leaning up north-south (southern end on ground)



Elevation: 36ft


Coins: 331

Discernible patterning of coins: Several following longitudinal cracks, but majority resting

loosely on top. 30+ coins are crooked.

Other notable features: 1 screw

581


Halfpenny 2 1927

One Penny (pre-

decimalisation)

94 1895, 1897, 1898, 1899, 1900, 1903, 1903,

1904, 1906, 1907, 1907, 1907, 1908, 1912,

1912, 1915, 1915, 1916, 1916, 1916, 1916,

1917, 1917, 1917, 1917, 1917, 1918, 1919,

1921, 1922, 1927, 1929, 1930, 1930, 1934,

1935, 1936, 1937, 1944, 1945, 1945, 1958,

1963, 1964, 1965, 1966

Two Shillings 5 1948, 1954

1p (post-

decimalisation)

62 1971, 1979, 1979, 1980, 1984, 1988, 1989,

1997, 1998, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2004,

2004, 2005, 2005, 2006, 2008

2p 78 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1971, 1975, 1976,

1978, 1978, 1979, 1979, 1979, 1980, 1980,

1981, 1981, 1988, 1989, 1989, 1990, 1992,

1994, 1994, 1995, 1997, 1997, 2000, 2001,

2001, 2001, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2006, 2006

5p 22 1968, 1989, 1990, 1990, 1992, 1992, 1999,

2004, 2004, 2006, 2006, 2007

10p 23 1968, 1975, 1976, 1976, 1980, 1992, 1992,

1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992,

1992, 1992, 1996, 1997

20p 9 1988, 1993

50p 7 1969, 1980, 2002

£1 4 Unknown

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 4 2 euro cents, 5 Dutch guilders, American dime

1965, South African coin

Unknown 21 Unknown

Coins on ground around ISLE MAREE 9: 47


Halfpenny 3 1944, 1944

One Penny (pre-

decimalisation)

5 189-, 1897, 190?, 1902, 1916

Two Shillings 1 Unknown

1p (post-

decimalisation)

11 1986, 1988, 1998, 2000, 2004, 2005

2p 16 1971, 1975, 1978, 1986, 1988, 1989, 1989,

2000

5p 4 1970, 1990, 1997

10p 3 1976

20p 3 1982, 1999

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 5 South African cents 1994

582

Unknown 0 Unknown

IM10

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown


Class of decay: 4



Elevation: 36ft


Coins: 9

Discernible patterning of coins: The majority resting loosely on top. One coin slightly

crooked.


Halfpenny 0 -

One Penny (pre-

decimalisation)

2 1918, 1938

Two Shillings 0 -


2p 5 1975, 1975, 1979, 1988,

1997

5p 1 2002

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

IM11


Species: Hardwood


Class of decay: 3


583



Elevation: 36ft


Coins: 40

Discernible patterning of coins: Many of them in longitudinal pre-existing cracks


Halfpenny 0 -

One Penny (pre-

decimalisation)

2 Unknown

Two Shillings 0 -

1p (post-decimalisation) 7 Unknown

2p 17 1995, 2001

5p 4 1990, 1994, 2009

10p 5 2000, 2005, 2006

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 1 Dutch guilders

Unknown 3 Unknown

IM12



Proximity to loch: The closest loch-shore is 23 metres south



Elevation: 36ft

Girth: 115cm

Coins: 4

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinally following the grain


Halfpenny 0 -

One Penny (pre-

decimalisation)

0 -

Two Shillings 0 -

1p (post-decimalisation) 0 -

584

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 3 Unknown

IM13

Condition: Living


Proximity to loch: The loch-shore is 18 metres south



Elevation: 36ft

Girth: 206cm

Coins: 11

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinally following the grain.


Halfpenny 1 1934

One Penny (pre-

decimalisation)

2 1906

Two Shillings 0 -


2p 3 1989, 1996

5p 1 Unknown

10p 2 Unknown

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 1 Unknown

IM14


Species: Hardwood

585

Proximity to loch: The closest loch-shore is 15 metres south

Class of decay: 3



Elevation: 36ft


Coins: 3

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinally following the grain and pre-existing cracks.


Halfpenny 0 -

One Penny (pre-

decimalisation)

0 -

Two Shillings 0 -


2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 1 Unknown

£1 0 -

£2 1 Unknown


Unknown 0 -

IM15

Condition: Living





Elevation: 36ft

Girth: 187cm

Coins: 2

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinally following the grain. One coin twisted.


Halfpenny 0 -

One Penny (pre- 1 Unknown

586

decimalisation)

Two Shillings 0 -


2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 1 Unknown

1 0.1%

1 0.1%

13 1.8%

29 4%

82 11.3%

32 4.4%

22 3%

16 2.2%

7 1%

22 3%

119 16.3%

94 12.9%

179 24.6%

111 15.2%

Dates of Coins at Isle Maree

39 2%

856 43%

15 0.8%

166 8%

461 23%

68 3%

135 7% 38

2% 19 1%

11 0.6%

1 0.05%

30 1.5%

136 7%

Denominations of Coins at Isle Maree

Mode = 1992/1997

Median = 1986

Mean = 1964

Total = 1975

587

2.27 – Leigh Woods Case-Study

Case-study name: Leigh Woods (LW)


Case-study location: Leigh Woods, Bristol, England

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): c. 2010 (Pers. comm. Bill Morris,

Head Ranger, 17/03/2012)

Case-Study environment: Woodland


Attractions Nearby: View of the Clifton Suspension Bridge



Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Stokeleigh

Camp

1 Monument Long Ashton,

North Somerset Monument

No. (ST

57 SE 35)

Earthwork remains of an Iron Age

multivallate promontory fort or

hillfort with occupation dating

from the late pre-Roman Iron Age

to the mid to late 2nd century AD.

Source: PastScape

Burgh

Walls

Camp

2 Monument Long Ashton,

North Somerset Monument

No. (ST

57 SE 37)

Earthwork remains of an Iron Age

multivallate promontory fort or

hillfort.

Source: PastScape

Bracken 3 Monument Long Ashton, Monument Post-Medieval coach house and

gate lodge.

588

Hill House North Somerset No. (ST

57 SE

720)

Source: PastScape


LW1

Condition: Log


Associated tools: One limestone, ‘l’ shaped hammer rock: 15x10x5cm, with signs of

abrasion, on the ground 73cm north of the tree

Proximity to path: Directly beside path, south of the park

Class of decay: 3



Grid reference: ST 553 740 (± 25ft)


Elevation: 423ft


Coins: 38

Discernible patterning of coins: Predominantly longitudinal, inserted into pre-existing

cracks. Most coins show signs of percussion; only one bent over.

Other notable features: A nail, but probably with practical function


589


1p 19 1971, 2 x post-2008

2p 10 1988, 1992, 4 x post-2008

5p 6 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 3 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

2.28 – Loxley Case-Study

Case-study name: Loxley (LX)


Case-study location: Wadsley and Loxley Common, Yorkshire, England

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): Unknown


Land ownership: Sheffield County Council

Attractions nearby: Popular local walk


590


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Flint blade 1 Find spot Bradfield,

Sheffield,

South

Yorkshire

SK 311 906

HER

Number:

03234/01

One well utilised flint blade of

unknown date found by A.

Henderson. Located in Sheffield

City Museum

Source: South Yorkshire SMR

Loxley and

Wadsley

Common

Quarry

2 Monument Bradfield,

Sheffield,

South

Yorkshire

SK 312 906

HER

Number:

04534/01

Post-medieval to industrial

quarry, 1720-1914.

Source: South Yorkshire SMR


LX1

Condition: Living



Proximity to path: Directly beside a path, but it is not particularly visible – as there are not

many coins, and most of them are facing away from the path, on the south and south-east

facing sides of the tree.

Ease of access: Easily accessible but not particularly visible.

Grid reference: SK 31195 90510


591

Latitude: 53.41051 Longitude: -1.53216

Girth: 125cm

Coins: 91



1p 26 Unknown

2p 31 200-

5p 5 Unknown

10p 3 20--

20p 2 199-, 2000

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 24 Unknown

2.29 – Lydford Gorge

Case-study name: Lydford Gorge (LG)


Case-study location: Lydford Gorge, Devon, England

26 29%

31 34%

5 5% 3

3% 2

2% 0 0 0 0

24 26%


Unknown

Denominations of Coins at Loxley

Total = 91

592

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): Pre-1997 (pers. comm. Adrian

Shaw, Senior Ranger, 03/04/2012)

Case-study environment: Woodland gorge


Attractions nearby: Lydford Gorge and the waterfalls.


Additional information: Several examples of woodland art and sculptures throughout the

forest

594


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Lydford

Castle

1 Monument Lydford, West

Devon, Devon Monument

No. (SX

58 SW 2)

Medieval castle and keep, built in 1195,

as a purpose built prison for detaining

royal prisoners, and took the form of a

square stone tower or keep.

Source: PastScape

Lydford

Norman

Earthwork

s



No. (SX

58 SW 13)

Medieval fort. Lydford Norman

Earthworks are thought to be the remains

of a Norman castle or fort, consisting of a

half ringwork, believed to have been

erected in 1066.

Source: PastScape

Hlidan 3 Monument Lydford, West


No. (SX

58 SW 3)

Early Medieval settlement and burh of

Hlidan. Finds uncovered during

excavation include imported

Mediterranean ware, possibly indicating

an earlier post-Roman settlement.

Source: PastScape

Monumen

t No.

901361



No.

901361

Medieval strut and undated gullies.

Source: PastScape

The Lich

Way



No.

(LINEAR

119)

Possible Medieval trackway running

across Dartmoor.

Source: PastScape

Monumen

t No.

1081170



No.

1081170

Early Medieval mint at Lydford, which

struck coins from 975 until 1066.

Source: PastScape

Lydford

Bridge



No. (SX

58 SW 12)

Medieval bridge, crossing a deep ravine

over the River Lyd.

Source: PastScape



596

CLUSTER 1

LG1

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: Many potential hammer rocks

Proximity to path: Directly beside path, south-south-east of path

Proximity to river: 154cm north-north-west of river

Proximity to LG2: 20cm north-north-west of LG2

Class of decay: 4




Elevation: 503ft


597

Coins: 1



1p 0 -

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

LG2

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood



Proximity to river: 134cm north-north-west of river

Proximity to LG3: 442cm west of LG3

Class of decay: 4




Elevation: 503ft


Coins: 2



1p 1 Unknown

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

598


Unknown 0 -

LG3

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood



Proximity to river: Directly beside river, north-north-west of river

Proximity to LG1: 260cm south-south-east of path

Class of decay: 3


Orientation: SEE-NWW



Elevation: 503ft

Length: 610cm Width: 23cm

Coins: 106

Discernible patterning of coins: Predominantly longitudinal.


1p 62 1989, 1991, 2000, 2xpost-2008, 2009

2p 25 1994, post-2008

5p 6 Unknown

10p 8 2000

20p 3 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 1 Unknown

LG4

Condition: Post (holding up LG3)

Species: n/a


599

Proximity to path: 23cm south-south-east of path

Proximity to river: Directly beside river, north-north-west

Proximity to LG3: Touching

Proximity to LG3b: 136cm south-south-west of LG3b




Elevation: 503ft

Girth: 24cm

Coins: 4

Discernible patterning of coins: On top of post.


1p 3 Unknown

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

LG5


Species: n/a





Proximity to LG3c: 207cm




Elevation: 503ft

600

Girth: 37cm

Coins: 2



1p 1 Unknown

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

LG6


Species: n/a





Proximity to LG3d: 153cm




Elevation: 503ft

Girth: 32cm

Coins: 5



1p 4 Unknown

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

601

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

LG7


Species: n/a








Elevation: 503ft

Girth: 32cm

Coins: 2



1p 1 Unknown

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

LG8

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: south-south-east of path


602

Proximity to LG3: 164cm

Class of decay: 3





Elevation: 503ft

Length: 320cm Width: 20cm

Coins: 5

Discernible patterning of coins: Predominantly longitudinal.


1p 3 Unknown

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

LG9

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: Two obvious tools of percussion: 7.5x4x1cm and 5x4x2cm

Proximity to path: north-north-west of path


Proximity to LG3: 260cm north-north-west of LG3

Class of decay: 3





Elevation: 503ft

603

Length: 432cm

Girth: 92cm

Coins: 4359

Discernible patterning of coins: Primarily longitudinal. Most coins bent over.


1p 2066 1973, 1977, 1981, 1983, 1986, 1988, 1989,

1990, 1990, 1990, 1998, 1998, 1998, 1999,

1999, 200-, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001,

2001, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2005, 2005, 2006,

2008, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2011,

2012

2p 1570 1971, 1971, 1971, 1975, 1975, 1977, 1977,

1979, 1979, 1979, 1980, 1980, 1980, 1980,

1980, 1980, 1981, 1981, 1985, 1985, 1986,

1987, 1988, 1988, 1988, 1988, 1989, 1989,

1989, 1989, 1989, 199-, 1990, 1992, 1994,

1994, 1995, 1996, 1997, 1997, 1998, 1999,

200-, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000,

2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2004, 2005,

2005, 2005, 2005, 2005, 2005, 2006, 2006,

2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2008, 2008, 2008,

2009, 2009, 2010

5p 273 1990, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2009, 2011

10p 289 1979, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1996, 2001,

2001, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2006, 2007,

2008

20p 103 1982, 200-, 200-, 2000, 2002, 2003

50p 2 Unknown

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 20 1 euro, 2 x 20 euro cents, 10 euro cents, 5

euro cents, 1 euro cent 2002, 2 x euro cent,

Spanish 1 euro cent, Lithuanian coin

(denomination unknown) 1991, 2 x

Australian 10 cent, Netherlands coin, Eire

coin, Hungarian forint (denomination

unknown) 1995, Danish 5 kroner 2008,

Danish øre (denomination unknown), 2 x

unknown

Unknown 36 Unknown J jm St

LG10

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown

604


Proximity to path: 263cm north-west-west of path

Proximity to river: 570cm north-west-west of river

Class of decay: 4




Elevation: 500ft


Coins: 2



1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

CLUSTER 2

LG11

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood




Proximity to LG8: Touching, north-west-west of LG8

Class of decay: 3




605


Elevation: 510ft


Coins: 40

Discernible patterning of coins: Primarily longitudinal.


1p 26 200-, 2000, 2008, 2xpost-2008, 2009, 2010

2p 6 1971, 1975, 1977, 2009

5p 2 2003

10p 3 1992

20p 3 200-

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

LG12

Condition: Wooden post (supporting LG7)

Species: n/a







Elevation: 510ft

Height: 77cm Width: 28cm

Coins: 1



1p 0 -

2p 0 -

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

606

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

22 15%

26 17%

39 26%

58 39%

4 3%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Lydford Gorge

2168 48%

1607 35%

283 6%

301 7% 110

2% 2

0.04% 0 0

21 0.5%

37 0.8%

Denominations of Coins at Lydford Gorge

Mode = 2000

Median = 2000

Mean = 1996

Total = 4529

607

2.30 – Malham Case-Study

Case-study name: Malham (MH)


Case-study location: Malham, Yorkshire, England

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a coin-tree?): c.2000 (pers. comm. Catriona Kilner,

Area Ranger for Malhamdale and Lower Ribblesdale, 20/10/2011).



Attractions nearby: The waterfall of Janet’s Foss is a popular walkers’ destination

Number of coin-trees/stumps/logs at site: 22, with a 23rd

at Malham Beck

Note: Between the second visit (03/03/2012) and the third visit (23/09/2012), 6 wooden posts

at the entrance to Little Gordale Wood have been embedded with coins. These are labelled

MH13-MH18, and are underlined and italicised.

609

Sites and monuments within 500 metres of coin-tree(s):

Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Monument

No. 47004

2 Monument Malham,

Craven,

North

Yorkshire

Monument No.

47004 (SD 96

SW 10)

The earthworks remains of an

Iron Age field system.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No. 594359

3 Monument Malham,

Craven,

North

Yorkshire

Monument No.

594359

(SD 96 SW

78)

An Early Medieval to Post

Medieval settlement at Malham,

known from documentary sources

including the Domesday Book.

Source: PastScape

610

Monument

No. 594303

1 Monument Malham,

Craven,

North

Yorkshire

Monument No.

594303 (SD 96

SW 22)

A possible Prehistoric or Roman

settlement consisting of Celtic

fields and hut circles.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No. 594364

4 Monument Malham,

Craven,

North

Yorkshire

Monument No.

594364 (SD 96

SW 83)

Post-medieval settlement,

Gordale House or Gordale Farm.

Source: PastScape



613

STAND-ALONE TREE

MH1

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: 5.9m south-east of path

Proximity to river: Directly beside river, north of the river

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Beside path, but some limbs require balancing over water to reach


Latitude: 54.06519 (±9 ft) Longitude: 2.13762 (± 9ft)

Elevation: 645ft


Coins: 78

Discernible patterning of coins: Primarily longitudinal


1p 28 2008

2p 22 2001, 2007, 2010

5p 1 Unknown

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 26 Unknown

MH2

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown

Associated tools: Limestone ‘hammer rock’, 13cm x 7cm x 6cm


Proximity to river: 670cm north of river

Proximity to MH3: 1m

614

Proximity to MH4: 7.1m


Class of decay: 4

Ease of access: Easy, directly beside path



Elevation: 714ft


Coins: 75



1p 26 1997, 1999, 2007

2p 29 1977, 2004, 2004, 2007

5p 2 Unknown

10p 1 Unknown

20p 2 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 15 Unknown

MH3

Condition: Log

Species: Unknown



Proximity to river: Directly beside river, north of river

Class of decay: 4




Elevation: 714ft

615


Coins: 5



1p 1 Unknown

2p 3 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

MH4

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood




Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 746ft


Coins: 1574

Discernible patterning of coins: Diagonal, but random on log end


1p 695 1999, 2001, 2002

2p 503 1988, 199-, 1991, 1993,

1997, 20--, 200-, 2000, 2001,

2006

5p 36 Unknown

10p 25 200-

616

20p 3 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 310 Unknown

MH5

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood



Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 746ft


Coins: 1304

Discernible patterning of coins: Diagonal


1p 546 1988, 200-, 2003

2p 502 1980, 1988, 1989, 1997, 200-

, 2005

5p 26 Unknown

10p 20 200-

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 208 Unknown

CLUSTER 2

MH6

Condition: Stump

617

Species: Unknown




Proximity to MH8: 246cm

Proximity to MH9: 248cm

Class of decay: 4

Ease of access: Easy, close to path



Elevation: 734ft


Coins: 8



1p 5 Unknown

2p 3 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

MH7

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood

Rock: Limestone ‘hammer rock’, 10cm x 7.5cm x 4cm


Proximity to river: Directly beside river, north-west of river

Class of decay: 2

618




Elevation: 734ft


Coins: 2860



1p 1389 1999, 200-, 200-, 2005, 2007,

2007, 2009, 2009, 2009,

2010, 2010

2p 837 1980, 1993, 1993, 1994, 200-

, 200-, 2000, 2001, 2005,

2005, 2007, 2008

5p 48 2004

10p 42 2008

20p 5 Unknown

50p 1 1997

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 536 Unknown

MH8

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to river: 6.2m north-west of river

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 734ft


Coins: 1299

619



1p 612 199-, 1990, 200-, 2005, 2005,

2009

2p 430 1980, 1988, 1990, 1996,

1997, 2000, 2000, 2004,

2008, 2009

5p 32 Unknown

10p 23 Unknown

20p 3 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 198 Unknown

MH9

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood



Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 734ft


Coins: 53



1p 21 Unknown

2p 18 2000, 2004, 2005

5p 0 -

10p 1 Unknown

20p 2 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

620


Unknown 11 Unknown

STAND-ALONE

MH10


Species: Hardwood

Proximity to path: Directly on path, south-east of path





Elevation: 772ft

Girth: 155cm

Coins: 1



1p 0 -

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

CLUSTER 3

MH11




Proximity to river: Directly beside river, west of river

621






Elevation: 665ft

Girth: 148cm

Coins: 1



1p 0 -

2p 0 -

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

MH12








Elevation: 665ft

Girth: 280cm

Coins: 14

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on top of stumped limb

622


1p 9 Unknown

2p 4 2001

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

MH13


Species: n/a

Proximity to path: Directly beside path, as part of the gate leading into Little Gordale Wood

Proximity to river: West of river

Ease of access: Easy, directly on path


Latitude: 54.06372 (±9ft) Longitude: 2.14007 (± 9ft)

Elevation: 660ft


Coins: 8

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on top of post, random distribution


1p 7 Unknown

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

623

MH14


Species: n/a



Easy of access: Easy, directly on path



Elevation: 660ft


Coins: 3



1p 3 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

MH15


Species: n/a






Elevation: 660ft

624


Coins: 2

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on top of post


1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

MH16


Species: n/a






Elevation: 660ft


Coins: 1

Discernible patterning of coins: Coin on top of post


1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

625

MH17


Species: n/a






Elevation: 660ft


Coins: 8



1p 2 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

MH18


Species: n/a






626

Elevation: 660ft


Coins: 5


Other notable features: 1 nail at top, but it possibly had a practical purpose


1p 5 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

MH19

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown





Class of decay: 4

Ease of access: Easy



Elevation: 660ft


Coins: 111

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on top of stump, radial


627

1p 58 -

2p 37 1995

5p 2 Unknown

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 13 -

STAND-ALONE

MH20

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood

Proximity to path: 1.3m south-east-east of path

Proximity to river: 2.7m north-west-west of river

Class of decay: 4




Elevation: 649ft


Coins: 3



1p 0 -

2p 3 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

628

CLUSTER 4

MH21

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown

Proximity to path: 1.6m south-east-east of path



Class of decay: 3



Latitude: 54.06013 (± 9ft) Longitude: 2.14129 (± 9ft)

Elevation: 634ft


Coins: 5



1p 0 -

2p 4 2001, 2001

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

MH22

Condition: Log

Species: Unknown

Proximity to path: 2m south-east-east of path


Class of decay: 3

629




Elevation: 634ft


Coins: 7



1p 3 2000

2p 2 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 2 2001, 2010

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE AT MALHAM TARN, 3 MILES NORTH OF OTHER CLUSTERS

MH23

Condition: Log


Rock: Limestone ‘hammer rock’, 21cm x 15cm x 6cm


Proximity to river: Approx. 50m north of Malham Tarn

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 1284ft


Coins: 14


630

Other notable features: 1 nail, possibly initially serving a practical purpose


1p 8 Unknown

2p 6 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

3 5%

7 11%

17 27%

37 58%

0

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Malham

3420 47%

2403 33%

131 1.8%

96 1.3%

17 0.2%

1 0.01% 0 0

6 0.08%

1246 17%


Unknown

Denominations of Coins at Malham

Mode = 2001

Median = 2001

Mean = 2000

Mode = 2001

Median = 2001

Mean = 2000

Total = 7320

631

2.31 – Marbury Case-Study

Case-study name: Marbury (MB)


Case-study location: Marbury Country Park, Northwich, Cheshire, England

Case-study date: c.2009 (pers. comm. Chris Moseley, park warden, 16/08/2012)

Case-study environment: Wooded parkland

Land ownership: Cheshire West and Chester Council

Attractions nearby: Marbury is a popular park


632


Title Map

No.

Location Type Reference

Number

Description

Monument

No. 72944

1 Great Budworth,

Vale Royal,

Findspot Monument

No. 72944

A Neolithic polished axe of dark

green slate was found at Great

633

Cheshire Budworth in 1921.

Source: PastScape

Piscaria de

Bodeworhe

2 Great Budworth,

Vale Royal,

Cheshire

Monument SMR No.

678

Medieval fishery. There was a

possible medieval fishery in the

Great Budworth area. Budworth

Mere is presumably the location of

the 'piscaria de Bodeworhe'- the

'fishery of Budworth' which was held

by the de Lacy family in 1295.

Source: Cheshire HER


MB1

Condition: Living double-trunked tree (although the coins are inserted into the stump of the

felled trunk)


Associated tools: None visible

Proximity to path: Directly in centre of path

Ease of access: Easily accessible, directly in the middle of the path at a three-way crossing

Grid reference: SJ 65533 76555 ±18ft

Latitude: 53.28482 Longitude: -2.5184 ±18ft

Elevation: 140ft


634

Height (of stump): 82cm Girth: 305cm

Coins: 57

Discernible patterning of coins: On stump-end, they follow a radial distribution. Only 8

coins were not inserted into the stump-end. Several coins are visibly damaged through

percussion, but there is no obvious tool of percussion. Three coins appear to have been

deliberately bent over.


1p 33 1997, 2001, 2006, 2008, 2008, 5 x post-2008

(coat of arms design), 2012

2p 16 199-, 1991, 2007

5p 5 Unknown

10p 3 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

MB2

Condition: Log



Proximity to path: Directly beside path, south-west-west of path

Proximity to Budworth Mere: 625cm south-east-east of Budworth Mere

Class of Decay: 3

Ease of access: Easily accessible, directly beside a path

Orientation: laid out in a south-easterly direction

Grid reference: SJ 65607 76609 ±26ft

Latitude: 53.28532 Longitude: -2.51721 ±18ft

Elevation: 139ft


Coins: 16

Discernible patterning of coins: The majority following a longitudinal pattern along the log.

Only one coin is in the log-end. It is interesting to note that only one coin (1p) was inserted in

the bark; the rest were inserted into the north-western end of the log, where the bark has

fallen away. However, the majority of the south-eastern end of the log is also without bark,

and yet there are no coins present there.

635

One coin (2p) was on the floor, just below the north-western end of the log.

10 coins appeared to have been deliberately bent over.


1p 6 1981, 1987

2p 9 197-, 1979, post 2008 (coat of arms design)

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

1 9%

2 18%

2 18%

5 45%

1 9%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Marbury

39 53%

25 34%

6 8% 3

4% 0 0 0 0 0 0


Unknown

Denominations of Coins at Marbury

Mode = 2008

Median = 2001

Mean = 1998

Total = 73

636

2.32 – Padley Gorge Case-Study

Case-study name: Padley Gorge (PG)


Case-study location: Padley Gorge, Derbyshire, England

Case-study date: Unknown. Chris Millner, Longshaw Senior Warden, National Trust,

estimates that it began late 1970s, early 1980s. Tom Lewis, Area Ranger, however, does not

remember the tree being there when he worked there in the 1990s.

Case-study environment: Woodland gorge


Attractions nearby: Longshaw Estate


637

Sites and monuments within 500 metres of coin-tree(s):

Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Alleged stone

circle,

Lawrence

Field

1 Monument Grindleford,

Hathersage,

Derbyshire

HER No.

7426

Small circle of 7 stones,

maximum height 0.3m, adjoining

the north side of the settlement on

Lawrence Field.

Source: Derbyshire HER

Flint,

Lawrence

Field

2 Find spot Grindleford,

Hathersage,

Derbyshire

HER No.

7401

Neolithic flint waste flake utilised

as a knife.


Curry Comb,

Lawrence

3 Find spot Grindleford,

Hathersage,

HER No.

7404

Trident-shaped iron curry comb

with rivets on the 3 forks.

638

Field Derbyshire Thought to be Romano-British.

Found in 1963, now located in

Sheffield City Museum.


Settlement at

Lawrence

Field


Hathersage,

Derbyshire

HER No.

7402

Late Saxon or Early Medieval

settlement on Lawrence Field,

escavated in 1958-60.


Yarncliffe

Quarry

5 Monument Hathersage,

Derbyshire

HER No.

7432

Site of a medieval quarry.


Township

boundary

stone


Hathersage,

Derbyshire

HER No.

7433

Boundary stone between Froggatt

and Nether Padley, not in situ and

now in use as part of the cover to

a stream culvert running under the

road.

Source: Derbyshire HER Source: http://www.heritagegateway.org.uk/gateway/advanced_search.aspx (Accessed 24/01/2012)


639

PG1

Condition: Log, leaning against an oak

Species: Larch (larix)

Associated tools: An abraded sandstone rock, 16cm x 12cm, was located beneath PG1

Proximity to path: Directly on the path

Proximity to river: 32 metres north-west of river

Proximity to PG2: 12.5 metres to the south-west

Proximity to PG3: 18.5 metres to the south-west

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easy, directly over path

Grid reference: SK 25510 79503 (± 10 ft)


Elevation: 931 ft


Coins: 1675

640

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinal, many bent over.


1p 954 1975, 1976, 1990, 1990, 1990,

1998, 1998, 1999, 2000, 2000,

2001, 2002, 2002, 2003, 2008,

2008, 2010, 2010, 20??

2p 570 1977, 1978, 1989, 1992, 1992,

1992, 1997, 1998, 2000, 2001,

2002, 2007, 2007, 2010, 2011

5p 55 Unknown

10p 32 Unknown

20p 2 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 59 Unknown

PG2

Condition: Log

Species: Larch (larix)

Associated tools: See PG1

Proximity to path: Directly over path


Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 850 feet

Length: 12 metres, 26cm Girth: 35cm

Coins: 91



1p 47 1977, 2000, 2009, 200?

2p 37 1971, 1986, 2000, 2000,

2006, 2007, 200?

5p 5 Unknown

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

641

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

PG3


Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: See PG1

Proximity to path: 9 metres


Class of decay: 4

Ease of access: Easy, close to path, but not very visible



Elevation: 933 ft

Length: 58cm Girth: 20 x 48cm

Coins: 13

Discernible patterning of coins: On log end, primarily latitudinal


1p 4 Unknown

2p 5 Unknown

5p 1 Unknown

10p 3 2002

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

642

2.33 – Portmeirion Case-Study

Case-study name: Portmeirion (PM)


Case-study location: Portmeirion, Gwynedd, Wales

Case-study date: 2006 (pers. comm. Meurig Jones, Estates Manager, Portmeirion Village,

21/12/2011)


Land ownership: Owned by the registered charity Ymddiriedolaeth Clough Williams-Ellis

Foundation. Managed by Portmeirion Limited.

Attractions nearby: Close to Portmeirion, a well-known tourist destination


6 14%

5 12%

14 33%

17 40%

1 2%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Padley Gorge

1005 57%

612 34%

61 3.4%

36 2%

2 0.1% 0 0 0

1 0.06%

59 3.3%


Unknown

Denominations of Coins at Padley Gorge

Mode = 2000

Median = 2000

Mean = 1997

Total = 1776

644

Sites and Monuments within 500m of coin-trees:

Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Castell

Gwain

Goch

1 Castle Montogomery,

Portmeirion,

Gwynedd

HER No.

10863

PRN: 2297

Castell Aber Ia or Castell Gwain Goch

occupies a level platform at the end of a

short rocky ridge, across the neck of which

a ditch has been cut. A short length of

masonry revetment still remains on this

side. The top of the motte, 25m in diameter,

is now overgrown and its height from the

bottom of the ditch varies from 3.3m to

6.6m. The ditch is 8m to 10m wide and

bounded by a rock ridge of the same width.

There is no sign of a bailey. The stone

tower on the summit still stood 3.3m high

in 1867 but was demolished to discourage

visitors. A 19th century painting of the

tower is preserved at Portmeirion.

Source: Historic Environment Records

Source: http://www.cofiadurcahcymru.org.uk/arch/gat/english/gat_interface.html (Accessed 31/01/2012)

http://www.cofiadurcahcymru.org.uk/arch/gat/english/gat_interface.html

647

STAND-ALONE

PM1

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood



Class of decay: 3


Grid reference: SH 58818 36814 (± 12ft)


Elevation: 37ft


Coins: 20

Discernible patterning of coins: All on top of stump, radial distribution. 4 coins are bent

over.



2p 2 2001

5p 1 200-

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

PM2

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: 68cm south of path

Class of decay: 3


648



Elevation: 35ft


Coins: 2



1p 1 Unknown

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

PM3

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: Tool of percussion, rectangular piece of slate with slight abrasions on

edges, 11 x 4 x 0.5cm


Class of decay: 4




Elevation: 33ft


Coins: 688

Discernible patterning of coins: Majority of coins on top following a radial pattern. Some

coins exhibit signs of percussion damage.


1p 382 1995, 1998, 1999, 200-, 2000, 2000, 2000,

2002, 2003, 2003, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2008, 3

649


2010, 2010

2p 202 1971, 1971, 1991, 1994, 1998, 200-, 2000,

2001, 2 x post-2008 (coat-of-arms design)

5p 48 2007, 2007

10p 33 1992, 2006

20p 4 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 Guernsey coin

Unknown 18 Unknown

PM4

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: See PM3


Proximity to PM3: 307cm, on opposite side of path

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 33ft


Coins: 2044

Discernible patterning of coins: Random distribution on top of stump, longitudinal along

the roots.


1p 886 1984, 200-, 200-, 2000, 2000, 2002, 2005,

2005, 2006, 2007, 3 x post-2008 (coat-of-

arms), 2009, 2009, 2010, 2010, 2010

2p 642 1976, 1979, 1988, 1988, 1988, 1988, 1990,

1993, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2003, 2004, 2004,

2004, 2007, 2008, post-2008 (coat-of-arms),

2009, 2010

5p 257 1995, 200-, 2010, 2010, 2010

10p 196 1992

20p 33 Unknown

650

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 3 Eire coin 1971, 1 euro cent, 1 euro cent

Unknown 27 Unknown

PM5

Condition: Living


Associated tools: See PM3


Proximity to PM6: 9m east of PM6




Elevation: 59ft

Girth: 185cm

Coins: 16

Highest coin: 1.7m, 2p

Discernible patterning of coins: 12 coins on a stumped end at base of tree; 4 on the main

trunk of the tree


1p 7 2004


5p 1 Unknown

10p 2 Post-2008 (coat-of-arms design), 2009

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

PM6

Condition: Stump

Species: Softwood

651

Associated tools: Large rounded sandstone rock, 21 x 12 x 11cm


Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 55ft


Coins: 987

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on sides of stumps: longitudinal distribution. Coins

on top of stump: radial distribution. Roughly 1/4 of coins bent over on top of stump.

Other notable features: Several of the coins showing signs of verdigris


1p 443 1996, 1997, 1998, 1998, 20--, 2000, 2000,

2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2006, 2007,

2007, 2008, 2008, 2008, 2009

2p 337 1977, 1986, 1988, 1989, 1989, 1994, 1995,

1998, 1999, 1999, 1999, 200-, 2000, 2000,

2000, 2001, 2001, 2002, 2004, 2004, 2005,

2005, 2006, 2006, 2006

5p 96 1990, 1995, 2002

10p 79 Unknown

20p 8 2001

50p 0

£1 0

£2 0

Foreign currency 5 1 Polish grosz, 5 Polish groszy, 5 euro cents,

1 euro cent, unknown

Unknown 19

STAND-ALONE

PM7

Condition: Stump (double-stump: PM7a and PM7b)

Species: Unknown


Proximity to path: 68cm south-east-east of path

652

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 85ft

Height: 63cm Girth of PM7a: 93cm Girth of PM7b: 117cm

Coins: 75

Discernible patterning of coins: All on top of stumps. PM7a: random distribution. PM7b: a

circular distribution.10 coins bent over.


1p 40 1998, 2005, 2008, 5 x post-2008 (coat-of-

arms design), 2009, 2010

2p 23 2000, 2005, 2 x post-2008 (coat-of-arms

design), 2009

5p 8 Unknown

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 3 Unknown

STAND-ALONE

PM8

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Directly to the east of the path

Class of decay: 4




Elevation: 104ft


653

Coins: 412

Discernible patterning of coins: Random distribution. Several coins bent over on top of

stump.



2p 119 1971, 1988, 2004, 2005, post-2008 (coat-of-

arms design)

5p 86 Unknown

10p 32 Unknown

20p 2 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 1 euro cent

Unknown 10 Unknown

CLUSTER 2

PM9

Condition: Stump

Species: Softwood



Proximity to PM10: 238cm south-west of PM10

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 146ft


Coins: 6

Discernible patterning of coins: All on top of stump - 3 inserted in pre-existing cracks in

outer rim; 3 in the middle


1p 5 1993, 2000, post-2008 (coat-of-arms design)

2p 1 2010

5p 0 -

654

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

PM10

Condition: Stump

Species: Softwood



Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: A slight climb from the path and not visible; concealed beneath shrubbery



Elevation: 146ft


Coins: 1

Discernible patterning of coins: On top of stump, bent over.


1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

PM11

Condition: Stump

Species: Softwood

PM9

655

Associated tools: Two possible tools of percussion: a rectangular piece of slate, 16 x 4.5 x

4cm; a rectangular piece of slate, 11 x 5.5. x 2cm


Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 150ft


Coins: 7

Discernible patterning of coins: All on top of stump, radial distribution. All coins showing

percussion damage.

Other notable features: One small sprig of pink blossoms had been placed on top of stump,

and a feather was leaning against the edge of the stump – it is not certain whether they had

been left there as deposits or had naturally found themselves there.


1p 5 1999, 2004, 2009, 2009

2p 1 Unknown

5p 1 2000

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

CLUSTER 3

PM12

Condition: Stump

Species: Softwood

Associated tools: Rectangular piece of slate, 23 x 9 x 4cm


Class of decay: 3



656


Elevation: 84ft


Coins: 914

Discernible patterning of coins: Radial distribution. Several coins are bent over.

Other notable features: Some coins showing signs of verdigris.


1p 422 1998, 1998, 1998, 1999, 200-, 200-, 2000,

2001, 2001, 2003, 2004, 2006, 2008, 4 x post-

2008 (coat-of-arms design), 2010

2p 334 1980, 1980, 1981, 1996, 1999, 2000, 2001,

2003, 2005, 2007, 2007, 2007, post-2008


5p 78 1991, 1991, 1992, 1999, 2000, 2008, 2010

10p 55 200-, 2000

20p 8 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 4 2 euro cents, 2 euro cents, 1 French franc (pre

2002, when the euro was introduced), 1

unknown

Unknown 13 Unknown

PM13

Condition: Stump

Species: Softwood


Proximity to path: 9.8m south of path

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easily accessible although not particularly visible



Elevation: 79ft


Coins: 1

657



1p 0 -

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 1 2007

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

9 5%

14 8%

56 33%

91 54%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010

Dates of Coins at Portmeirion

2370 46%

1668 32%

546 11%

399 8% 56

1% 0 0 0

14 0.3%

90 2%


Unknown

Denominations of Coins at Portmeirion

Mode = 2000

Median = 2001

Mean = 2000

Total = 5143

658

2.34 – Rydal Case-Study

Case-study name: Rydal (RD)


Case-study location: Old coffin trail above Nab Cottage, between Grasmere and Rydal,

Cumbria, England


Case-study environment: Woodland path


Attractions nearby: Rydal Mount, home of William Wordsworth, in Rydal


659


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Monument

No. 10147

1 Monument South

Lakeland,

Cumbria

Monument

No: 10147

(NY 30

NE 3)

Medieval boundary of Rydal visible as a

dyke or ditch.

Source: PastScape

Rydal &

Loughrigg

Dyke

2 Monument South

Lakeland,

Cumbria

Lake

District

HER

Sources

Ref: 1361

Boundary ditch of medieval date with the

name Rydal and Loughrigg Dykes, that

also serves as part of parish boundaries

Source: Lake District National Park HER

660

Bee Bole at

Nab

Cottage

3 Monument White Moss,

Grasmere,

Cumbria

Lake

District

HER

Sources

Ref: 1007

Site of a bee bole of medieval date.


Nab Wood

Quarry

4 Monument South

Lakeland,

Cumbria

Lake

District

HER

Sources

Ref: 2811

Site of a quarry of post-medieval date.


Nab Scar

Quarry

5 Monument Nab Scar,

Grasmere, Lake

District

HER

Sources

Ref: 5066

Site of a post-medieval quarry.


The Nab 6 Monument South

Lakeland,

Cumbria

Monument

No. (NY

30 NE 6)

A post-medieval two-storey house, dated

1702, of white-washed rubble.

Source: PastScape

Rydal Park 7 Monument South

Lakeland,

Cumbria

Monument

No. (NY

30 NE 26)

Barns, stables and outbuildings to the

north and east of Rydal Hall, mostly built

in the late 17th century.

Source: PastScape

Nab Scar

Platforms

8 Monument South

Lakeland,

Cumbria

Lake

District

HER

Sources

Ref: 2522

Site of platforms of unknown date.




661

RD1

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: Square slate ‘hammer rock’, 5 x 4.5 x 2cm, with only minimal abrasion


Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easily accessible, directly beside main path. However, not particularly

visible, as it is just one log amongst many piled against a brick wall.

Orientation: north-west

Grid reference: NY 35613 06603 ±9ft


Elevation: 412ft


Coins: 117

Discernible patterning of coins: 74 coins on top of log, longitudinal distribution, and 43 on

log end, radial distribution

Other notable features: There are twelve ‘coin-fossils’ (imprints where coins obviously

once were, but due to decay or somebody removing them, they are no longer there)

662


1p 69 2006, 2007, 2007, 3 x post-2008 (coat-of-

arms design)

2p 18 2003

5p 19 Unknown

10p 6 1999

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 5 Unknown

RD2

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: Many potential tools of percussion with numerous pieces of slate on

ground


Proximity to RD1: Touching R1

Class of decay: 4

Ease of access: Easily accessible, beside main path. However, not particularly visible, as it is

covered by other logs.

Orientation: north-west



Elevation: 412ft


Coins: 1

Discernible patterning of coins: Coin in log end, inserted in a crack.


1p 0 -

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

Rydal 1

663

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

RD3


Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: 305cm north of path

Proximity to R1 and R2: 7.8m north-west of R1 and R2, on opposite side of path

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Fairly accessible, requiring a small climb from the path.




Elevation: 412ft


Coins: 1 (possibly too covered in moss to accommodate more)

Discernible patterning of coins: Coin in stump end, inserted in a radial crack


1p 1 2010

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

Rydal 2

664

2.35 – Snowdon Case-Study

Case-study name: Snowdon (SN)


Case-study location: Miner’s/PYG track, Mt. Snowdon, Gwynedd, Wales

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): Unknown, although a post on the

forum ‘Live for the Outdoors’ in 2009 claimed that they must have been fairly recent, for the

writer had not seen them there before and he apparently climbed Snowdon regularly

(Accessed 26.01.2012)

Case-study environment: Along one of the most popular tracks up the summit of Snowdon

Land ownership: Snowdonia National Park

Attractions nearby: Snowdon, as the highest mountain in Wales, is a popular walkers/tourist

attraction

Sites and monuments within 500 metres of coin-trees(s): According to Heritage Gateway

(Accessed 22/10/2012) there are no sites or monuments within 500 metres of this site.


Further Information: Response from Angharad Harris, Education Services, Snowdonia

National Park: “I’m afraid that the history isn’t very exiting, or old. The post is the remnant

of a fence to stop erosion put in place in the last 20 years. The fence was taken down after a

few years, but the post remained so that walkers could have a bit of a hand across a boulder.

No one really knows why people started to put money into the post.” (02/02/2012). SN2 is

still used to assist people while ascending the rocky path.

70 59%

19 16%

19 16%

6 5%

0 0 0 0 0

5 4%


Unknown

Denominations of Coins at Rydal

Total = 119

666

SN1


Species: n/a

Associated tools: Many potential tools of percussion; it is located on a scree path

Proximity to path: Directly in the path

Proximity to SN2: 18.3m


Grid reference: SH 60898 54936 (±9ft)


Elevation: 3095ft


Coins: 1756

Discernible patterning of coins: Many distributed longitudinally along cracks in the wood.

6 coins (4x1p; 2x2p) dispelled onto floor. Some coins exhibit damage through percussion.

Other notable features: 1 nail, although it may initially have had a practical purpose


1p 996 1985, 1989, 1990, 1995, 1998, 1999, 1999,

1999, 1999, 200?, 2000, 2000, 2002, 2003,

667

2004, 2004, 2006, 2006, 2007, 2007, 2007,

2008, 2008, 2008, 2009, 2009, 2010, 2011,

2011, 2011, 2011, 2011

2p 674 1986, 1989, 1991, 1992, 1994, 1995, 1998,

1999, 1999, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2002,

2002, 2003, 2007, 2007, 2008, 2010, 2010,

2010, 2011, 2011, 2011

5p 39 2000, 2010, 2010

10p 27 2011, 2011

20p 8 199?

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 4 2 euro cents, 20 euro cents, 1 euro, 1

Romanian ban 2012

Unknown 8 Unknown

SN2


Species: n/a

Associated tools: Many potential tools of percussion, as it is on a scree path; however, one

large, rectangular, abraded slate rock, measuring 29x9x4cm, was seen being utilised as a tool

of percussion

Proximity to path: Directly in path

Ease of access: Easily accessible, although as it stands at the entrance to some rocky steps,

difficult to traverse and often very busy, it is not easy to stay at the post without getting in

people’s way

Grid reference: SH 60898 54936 (±9ft)


Elevation: 3120ft


Coins: 299

Discernible patterning of coins: Many coins distributed longitudinally along cracks in the

wood. 1 coin (20 Euro cent) dispelled onto the floor. Some coins exhibit damage through

percussion.

Other notable features: Some graffiti in faded marker: ‘ROB + BABS (?) H4H 2012’ and

some scratches, mainly indiscernible except for an ‘MB?’. Some coins suffering from

verdigris.


1p 183 1977, 1986, 1989, 1995, 1995, 1996, 2000,

2000, 2002, 2002, 2003, 2003, 2004, 2005,

668

2006, 2006, 2006, 2007, 2007, 2008, 2008,

2009, 2009, 2010, 2010, 2011, 2011

2p 84 1979, 1997, 1998, 1999, 1999, 2001, 2001,

2005, 2005, 2005, 2007, 2009, 201?, 2010,

2011, 2011

5p 13 1991, 200-, 2010

10p 6 1992, 2005

20p 6 199-

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 7 1 American cent, 5 euro cents 200-, 5 euro

cents, 5 euro cents, 2 euro cents 2008,

Polish groszy, 20 euro cent (on floor)

Unknown 0 -

2 2%

7 6%

30 28%

55 50%

15 14%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Snowdon

Mode = 2011

Median = 2004/2005

Mean = 2003

669

2.36 – St Nectan’s Glen Case-Study

Case-study name: St. Nectan’s Glen (SNG)


Case-study location: St. Nectan’s Glen, Cornwall, England

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): Pre-2006

Case-study environment: A woodland glen

Land ownership: Privately owned

Attractions nearby: The waterfall of St Nectan’s Glen


Additional information: Lawrence Barker, ‘Loz’, co-manager of the St. Nectan’s Glen coin-

tree: ‘From what I understand the tree fell many years ago in a rather violent storm and as it

lay there and the bark softened people who had no ribbons or other offerings but still had a

wish to make began inserting coins and making their wishes, I believe that there are similar

trees in other sacred sites.’ (pers. comm. 09/11/2012)

Other notable features:

People have inserted some coins into the rock walls by the pool, waterfall, and along

the trail. One coin was a 1933 three pence – very shiny, suggesting that it has only

recently been deposited.

On the rock walls as well were numerous pieces of slate with people’s names written

on them. There are also candles, a rubber duck, painted pieces of slate, jewellery.

1179 57%

758 37%

52 2.5%

33 1.6%

14 0.7% 0 0 0

11 0.5%

8 0.4%


Unknown

Denominations of Coins at Snowdon

Total = 2055

670

On the trees and fences surrounding the pool are ribbons, hair bobbles, small bags

containing folded pieces of paper, jewellery, plastic wallets with photographs in (e.g.

an RIP message for a dog) – even a polo mint and a lock of hair.

On the primary coin-tree, two coins hold ribbons in place – harking back to the

purposes of nails and pins on Isle Maree coin-tree.

In the pool and then along the woodland trail are numerous stacks of rocks known as

‘Fairy Stacks’.

Nearby the glen is a small ‘wishing well’ beside the path, containing 6 coins.

This site demonstrates numerous ways of ‘leaving your mark’ or making mementoes.

671


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

St Nectan’s

Chapel

1 Monument Tintagel,

Cornwall Monument

No. (SX

08 NE 20)

The alleged site of the Medieval chapel of

St Nectan.

Source: PastScape

Trevillet 2 Monument Tintagel,

Cornwall Monument

No. (SX

08 NE 27)

Medieval manor house.

Source: PastScape

Trevillett –

Medieval

cross


Cornwall Monument

No. (SX

08 NE)

The former location of a Medieval cross,

now standing outside the Wharncliffe

Arms Hotel in Tintagel.

Source: Cornwall & Scilly HER

Genver –

Early

Medieval

settlement


Cornwall HER No.

23135

Early Medieval settlement, Medieval

manor, Medieval settlement


Genver –

Medieval

chapel


Cornwall HER No.

23136

A Medieval chapel was situated at

Genver, which is not a deserted

settlement (23135).


Trevillett –

Medieval

house


Cornwall HER No.

23047

Medieval and Post-Medieval house.


Trevillett –

Early

Medieval

settlement


Cornwall HER No.

23158

Early Medieval and Medieval settlement,

first recorded in 1337.


Polpeer –

Medieval

settlement


Cornwall HER No.

23143

Medieval settlement first recorded in

1337.


Mainscaff –

Medieval

settlement


Cornwall HER No.

23141

Medieval settlement first recorded in

1337.


Trethevey – 10 Monument Tintagel, HER No. Field boundaries of uncertain Medieval

672

Early

Medieval

field

boundary

Cornwall 56883 date, visible as cropmarks and earthworks

on aerial photographs.


Trevillett –

Post-

Medieval

building


Cornwall HER No.

56885

A post-Medieval building and undated

enclosure, visible as a complex of 10-12

rectilinear earthworks on aerial

photographs.


Trevillett –

Post-

Medieval

quarry


Cornwall HER No.

56886

19th and 20th century quarrying, visible as

earthworks on aerial photographs.


Trevillett –

Post-

Medieval

beekeeping

site


Cornwall HER No.

23051

Possible post-Medieval beekeeping site.


Trethevey –

C19 quarry


Cornwall HER No.

56868

A post-Medieval quarry, visible on aerial

photographs.




674

CLUSTER 1

SNG1

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to shore: 216cm south-west of shore

Proximity to SNG2: 624cm north-east of SNG2

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: You have to walk through the pool to reach it, but the visitors centre provides

wellington boots for visitors to borrow

Orientation: NNW-SSE



Elevation: 451ft


Coins: 4365

Discernible patterning of coins: Mainly longitudinal. Some damage through percussion but

most are not bent over.

Other notable features: One rusty nail, one Sealife token, two plastic tokens, a Hobgoblin

beer bottle cap, two ribbons attached to coins, a key-ring, green aventurine (believed to have

healing properties)


1p 2021 1974, 1974, 1977, 1979, 1979, 1980, 1980,

1981, 1981, 1982, 1986, 1986, 1989, 1989,

1990, 1990, 1991, 1992, 1992, 1996, 1997,

1997, 1998, 1999, 200-, 200-, 200-, 2000,

2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001,

2003, 2004, 2004, 2004, 2006, 2007, 2007,

2008, 2008, 2008, 27xpost-2008, 2009,

2009, 2009, 2009, 2009, 201-, 2010, 2010,

2010, 2010, 2010, 2011, 2011, 2011

2p 1639 1971, 1971, 1979, 1980, 1980, 1980, 1981,

1985, 1987, 1988, 1989, 1989, 1989, 1991,

1992, 1994, 1994, 1994, 1995, 1996, 1997,

1997, 1999, 1999, 1999, 20--, 2000, 2000,

2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001,

2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2002, 2002,

2002, 2002, 2004, 2004, 2005, 2005, 2006,

2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2008, 2008, 2008,

2008, 2009, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2011

675

5p 282 1995, 20--, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2005, 2008

10p 263 1992, 1992, 1992, 1992, 1997, 2002, 2003,

2005, 2006, 2006, 2008, 2009, 2009

20p 124 1982, 1982, 1984, 1989, 1990, 1991, 1995,

1996, 1997, 200-, 2001, 2002, 2004, 2005,

2006

50p 4 Unknown

£1 2 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 7 1 euro 2002, 2 euro, 2 euro, 20 euro cents,

20 euro cents, 2 unknown

Unknown 23 Unknown

Coins in water around SNG1: 4


1p 0 -

2p 3 1999, 2001, 2011

5p 1 2005

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

SNG2

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to pool: Directly beside pool, south-west of pool

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: As above, you have to walk through the pool to reach it




Elevation: 451ft


Coins: 15

Discernible patterning of coins: Mainly longitudinal. Some damage through percussion.

676


1p 5 1xpost-2008

2p 6 2000

5p 0 -

10p 4 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

SNG3

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: 41cm north-east of path

Proximity to river: 360cm north-east of river

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 394ft


Coins: 2

Discernible patterning of coins: On top of stump in pre-existing crack


1p 1 Unknown

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

677

CLUSTER 2

SNG4

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood



Proximity to river: 511cm south of river

Proximity to SNG5: 615cm east of SNG5

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 372ft


Coins: 1



1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

SNG5

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Running directly beside path, north of path

Proximity to river: 137cm south of river

Class of decay: 3

678





Elevation: 451ft


Coins: 151

Discernible patterning of coins: Mainly longitudinal. Some damage through percussion.

Other notable features: Graffiti scratched into bark: ‘BW’, ‘AI’, and others (illegible)


1p 70 1999, 200-, 200-, 2008, 4xpost-2008

2p 44 1xpost-2008

5p 18 Unknown

10p 11 1xpost-2008

20p 7 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown - -

13 8%

21 14%

43 28%

72 46%

6 4%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at St Nectan's Glen

Mode = 2001

Median = 2001

Mean = 1998

679

2.37 – Stock Ghyll Case-Study

Case-study name: Stock Ghyll (SG)


Case-study location: Stockghyll Lane, Ambleside, Cumbria, England


Case-study environment: On a narrow lane just north of Ambleside town-centre, leading to

the footpath to Stock Ghyll

Land ownership: South Lakeland District Council

Attractions nearby: Ambleside and the waterfall of Stock Ghyll


2098 46% 1693

37%

301 7%

278 6%

131 3%

4 0.09%

2 0.04% 0

8 0.2%

23 0.5%

Denominations of Coins at St Nectan's Glen

Total = 4528

681


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Cotton Mill,

Stock Ghyll

Park

1 Monument Stock Ghyll

Park,

Ambleside,

Cumbria

Depositor

ID: 30728

Site of a cotton mill of unknown

date.


HER

Woundale

Raise Quern

Find

2 Find Spot Ambleside,

Cumbria

Depositor

ID: 1883

A quern found 1.5 miles SW of

Woundale Raise of unknown date.


HER

Charcoal

Burning

Platform

3 Monument Ambleside,

Cumbria

Depositor

ID: 4728

Four possible charcoal burning

platforms on a steep hillside near

Stock Ghyll of unknown date.


HER

Cultivation

Terraces

4 Monument Ambleside,

Cumbria

Depositor

ID: 5505

Possible cultivation terrace 16m

deep and 35m long at various levels

on a hillside near Stock Ghyll of

unknown date.


HER



683

STAND-ALONE

SG1

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: One tool of percussion: diamond-shaped limestone ‘hammer rock’, 13 x 7

x 4cm, abraded, placed on the top of the stump

Proximity to path: Directly beside road, north-north-west of road (south-south-east of river)

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Directly beside the road leading to the entrance to Stock Ghyll waterfall walk



Elevation: 324ft


Coins: 1008

Discernible patterning of coins: 455 coins on top of stump, radial distribution with some

coins following the circle of an inner tree-ring, and 553 coins on side of stump, running

longitudinally up the stump. Squared edges from percussion, and on top of stump 57 coins

bent over.

Other notable features: 1 drawing pin


1p 512 1983, 1990, 200-, 2005, post-

2008 (coat-of-arms design),

2008

2p 398 1971, 1980, 1987, 1987,

1994, 1996, 1997, 1999,

2001, 2007, 2007, post 2008

(coat-of-arms design), 2008,

2008

5p 37 2006, 2010

10p 28 1992, 1996, 1996

20p 12 Unknown

50p 3 Unknown

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 7 1 euro cent, 1 euro cent, 5

unknown

Unknown 11 Unknown

SG2

684

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to road: 63cm north-west-west of road

Proximity to SG3: Touching SG3, north-east of SG3

Class of decay: 4




Elevation: 285ft


Coins: 49

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on top of stump, radial distribution. 2 coins are bent

over.


1p 21 Unknown

2p 7 1989

5p 6 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 15 Unknown

SG3

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood



Proximity to SG4: 423cm north-east-east of SG4

Class of decay: 3




685

Elevation: 285ft


Coins: 9

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on top of log (log-ends possible too hard or too

overcome with fungus), longitudinal distribution. 1 coin slightly twisted.


1p 4 Post-2008 (coat-of-arms

design)

2p 2 Unknown

5p 1 Unknown

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 1 Unknown

SG4

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood




Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 285ft


Coins: 2

Discernible patterning of coins: Both coins on top of log, left end.


1p 0 -

2p 0 -

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

686

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 1 Unknown

SG5

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood



Proximity to SG6: 38cm north of SG6

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 285ft


Coins: 2



1p 0 -

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

SG6

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


687



Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Directly beside the road.



Elevation: 285ft


Coins: 32

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on top of log, on left end, longitudinal distribution.


1p 20 2001, 2005, 2010

2p 3 Unknown

5p 3 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 6 Unknown

SG7

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood




Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Directly beside the road



Elevation: 285ft


Coins: 11

688

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on top of stump, radial distribution


1p 2 Unknown

2p 2 Unknown

5p 3 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 4 Unknown

SG8

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood



Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Directly beside the road



Elevation: 285ft


Coins: 1

Discernible patterning of coins: Coin on log end


1p 0 -

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 Australian (denomination

unknown) 1980

Unknown 0 -

689

2.38 – Tarn Hows Case-Study

Case-study name: Tarn Hows (TH)


Case-study location: Tarn Hows, Cumbria, England

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): 3 or 4 years: ‘from what I can gather

the tree has not been there for very long, maybe 3 or 4 years. I also know that all of the coins

have been completely removed from the tree on 2 occasions, only to be replaced by others’

(pers. comm. Sam Stalker, National Trust Ranger, 10/02/2012)

Case-study environment: Woodland and lakeshore


Attractions nearby: Tarn Hows is a popular circular walk


3 11%

5 19%

7 26%

12 44%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010

Dates of Coins at Stock Ghyll

559 50%

413 37%

51 4.6%

30 2.7%

12 1%

3 0.3% 0 0

8 0.7%

38 3.4%


Unknown

Denominations of Coins at Stock Ghyll

Mode = 1996/2008

Median = 1997

Mean = 1997

Total = 1114

692

Sites and monuments within 500metres of coin-tree:

Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Rose Castle

Cottahe

1 Monument Rose Castle,

Hawkshead,

Cumbria

NT

HBSMR

No: 27047

Mid-19th

to late-19th

century house.


Earth closet

and wash

house


Hawkshead,

Cumbria

Depositor

ID: 38288

Post medieval wash house with

earth closet.


HER

Structure in

Lane Head

Coppice

3 Monument Lane Head

Coppice,

Conison,

Cumbria

Depositor

ID: 36520

Post medieval structure, Lane Head

Coppice.


HER

Highwood

Quarry

4 Monument Hawkshead,

Cumbria

Depositor

ID: 18522

Site of Highwood slate quarry,

unknown date.


HER

Rose Castle

Quarries


Cumbria

Depositor

ID: 18523

Site of two post-medieval slate

quarries.


HER

Howgraves

Quarry


Cumbria

Depositor

ID: 18524

Site of a post medieval slate quarry.


HER

Tannery,

Rose Castle


Hawkshead,

Cumbria

Depositor

ID: 30182

Site of a tannery of unknown date.


HER



695

CLUSTER 1

TH1

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: 1.47m north-north-east of path

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Relatively accessible; it is beside the main path around Tarn Hows, but it

quite difficult to reach; it is on a slope, 1.48m from the ground.



Elevation: 610ft


Coins: 4

Discernible patterning of coins: Primarily running longitudinally along the bark. Highest

coin is 1.58m from the roots.


1p 2 Unknown

2p 2 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

TH2

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood



Proximity to TH1: 18m from TH1

Class of decay: 3


696



Elevation: 662ft


Coins: 5

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on top of stump, radial distribution


1p 4 2001

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

TH3


Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: Many potential tools of percussion, but two stones are abraded: A jagged

limestone ‘hammer rock’, 8 x 7 x 3cm, slightly abraded; and a limestone ‘hammer rock’, 18 x

11 x 8cm, heavily abraded

Proximity to path: Directly west of the path and Tarn Hows

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Relatively accessible. The stump end is directly beside the path at a

convenient height. However, it is positioned up a steep incline, and many people must have

climbed up to insert coins at higher points.



Elevation: 689ft


Coins: 3834

Discernible patterning of coins: 3487 coins on top of log, primarily running longitudinally

along the bark. Highest coin is 2.46m from the ground (obviously required climbing). 347 Cluster 1

697

coins on log-end, the coins are either of radial or transverse distribution. Roughly 100 coins

are bent.


1p 1990 1971, 1977, 1994, 1994, 1995, 1995, 1996,

1998, 1998, 1999, 1999, 1999, 200-, 2000,

2000, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001,

2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2005, 2005, 2006,

2007, 2007, 2007, 27 x post-2008 (coat-of-

arms design), 2008, 2008, 2008, 2008,

2009, 2009, 2009, 2010, 2010, 2010, 2011,

2011

2p 1117 1971, 1978, 1978, 1978, 1979, 198-, 1980,

1985, 1987, 1988, 1988, 1989, 1989, 199-,

1990, 1992, 1994, 1996, 1997, 1997, 1997,

1998, 20--, 200-, 200-, 200-, 200-, 200-,

2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2000,

2000, 2000, 2000, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2001,

2001, 2001, 2002, 2002, 2002, 2002, 2003,

2003, 2004, 2004, 2005, 2005, 2005, 2005,

2005, 2006, 2006, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2007,

2007, 32 x post-2008 (coat-of-arms

design), 2008, 2008, 2008, 2009, 2011,

2011, 2011

5p 316 1990, 1998, 2001, 2002, 2002, 2004, 2007,

6 x post-2008 (coat-of-arms design), 2010,

2010, 2010

10p 222 20--, 2002, 2005, 2007, 3 x post-2008


20p 112 1982, 200-, 2004, post-2008 (coat-of-arms

design)


£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 8 2 euro, 2 euro, 1 euro, 10 euro cents, 1

euro cent, Polish zloty, American 1 cent

1977, 2 unknown gold-coloured coins

Unknown 39 Unknown

STAND-ALONE

TH4


Species: Unknown

Associated tools: One possible tool of percussion: a rectangular sandstone ‘hammer rock’,

24 x 6 x 5cm, slightly abraded

698

Proximity to path: 2.21m north-west-west of path

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Relatively easy, overhanging path



Elevation: 706ft


Coins: 3

Discernible patterning of coins: One in log-end and two on top of log, longitudinal

distribution.


1p 1 Unknown

2p 2 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

TH5

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown


Proximity to path: 3.92m south-south-west of path

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Visible from the path but requires climbing to reach it; 3.92m up a steep

incline



Elevation: 678ft


Coins: 3

699

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on top of stump, radial distribution. Slight

damage to edges of coins through percussion. 1 coin showing the effects of verdigrease.


1p 1 2003

2p 2 1971, 1994

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

TH6


Species: Beech (Fraxinus)



Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easily accessible from path



Elevation: 668ft

Height: 1.33m Girth: 1.78m (girth of overall tree: 3.43m)

Coins: 2

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on the top of a stump where a limb has been

removed, inserted into pre-existing cracks, radial distribution.


1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 1 1991

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


700

Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

TH7

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: One potential tool of percussion: Jagged limestone ‘hammer rock’, 14 x 6

x 5cm, slightly abraded

Proximity to path: 19m south-east of path

Proximity to lake: Directly north-west of lake

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easily accessible although not particularly visible from path



Elevation: 659ft


Coins: 5

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on top of stump, inserted into pre-existing cracks,

random distribution.


1p 1 Unknown

2p 1 2004

5p 3 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

TH8

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood

701

Associated tools: One potential tool of percussion: Rectangular limestone ‘hammer rock’, 14

x 8 x 3cm, slightly abraded

Proximity to path: 74cm south-south-west of path

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easily accessible from path



Elevation: 659ft


Coins: 4

Discernible patterning of coins: Latitudinal distribution across the top of the stump.


1p 1 Unknown


5p 0 -

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

TH9

Condition: Stump

Species: Softwood


Proximity to path: 3.99m south-south-west of path

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 661ft


Coins: 1

702

Discernible patterning of coins: Coin on top of stump, inserted into a crack.


1p 0 -

2p 0 -

5p 1 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

TH10

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown


Proximity to path: In the middle of the path

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Easily accessible, in the middle of path



Elevation: 679ft


Coins: 652

Discernible patterning of coins: Primarily running longitudinally along the bark, heavily

clustered on stump top. Roughly 20 coins are bent.


1p 360 1974, 1974, 1984, 1994, 2000, 2001,

2004, 2005, 2006, 2008, 2008, 2009, 2010

2p 227 1980, 1980, 1980, 1988, 1988, 1993,

1997, 1998, 200-, 200-, 2001, 2002, 2002,

2002, 2003, 2007, 2008

5p 31 2009

10p 19 1992

20p 6 1998

50p 0 -

703

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 2 1 euro, unknown

Unknown 9 -

STAND-ALONE

TH11

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown

Associated tools: One possible tool of percussion: jagged slate ‘hammer rock’, 5 x 4 x 1cm,

slightly abraded

Proximity to path: 1.56m

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 679ft


Coins: 18

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on top, random distribution


1p 9 1986, 1998, 2009

2p 5 198-

5p 2 Unknown

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 2 Unknown

STAND-ALONE

TH12

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood

Tarn Hows 10

704

Associated tools: One possible tool of percussion: Square slate ‘hammer rock’, 19 x 12 x

7cm, slightly abraded; and rectangular slate ‘hammer rock’, 15 x 9 x 3xm, slightly abraded on

edges

Proximity to path: Directly north-west-west to the path

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 704ft


Coins: 196

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on top, many running longitudinally around the

horse-shoe shape of the stump.


1p 127 1990, 2000, 2001, 4 x post-2008 (coat-of-

arms design), 2010, 2011

2p 34 2000, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2001, 3 x post-



10p 7 2000

20p 2 -

50p 2 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 3 Unknown

STAND-ALONE

TH13

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown


Proximity to path: 1.08m west of the path

Class of decay: 3




705

Elevation: 727ft


Coins: 144

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on top, radial distribution. 9 coins are bent.


1p 71 1998

2p 14 200-

5p 41 Unknown

10p 9 1992

20p 1 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 8 Unknown

CLUSTER 2

TH14

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown


Proximity to path: 5.51m south-east of the path

Proximity to TH16: 31m

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 717ft


Coins: 3

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on top, inserted into pre-existing cracks, circular

distribution


1p 3 1990

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

706

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

TH15

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: One potential tool of percussion: rounded sandstone ‘hammer rock’, 20 x

20 x 10cm, slightly abraded

Proximity to path: 61cm south-east of the path

Proximity to TH15: 6.04m west of TH15

Proximity to TH16: 25m north of TH16

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 717ft


Coins: 123

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on top, some with a radial distribution, others

circular. Roughly 10 coins are bent.

Other notable features: One AA battery lodged into a fissure at the top


1p 73 1979, 1989, post-2008 (coat-of-arms

design)

2p 21 2010

5p 18 Unknown

10p 8 Unknown

20p 1 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 2 Unknown

707

TH16

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown

Associated tools: One potential tool of percussion: rounded limestone ‘hammer rock’, 16 x

11 x 9cm, slightly abraded

Proximity to path: 1.06m north-west of the path

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 712ft


Coins: 12

Discernible patterning of coins: All coins on top, random distribution.



2p 1 Unknown

5p 3 Unknown

10p 0

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 2 Unknown

CLUSTER 3

TH17

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown


Proximity to path: Directly to the north-west of path

Proximity to TH18: 13.58m


Class of decay: 3


708



Elevation: 700ft


Coins: 2

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on top, random distribution


1p 1 Unknown

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

TH18

Condition: Stump



Proximity to path: 6.01m north-west of path


Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 700ft


Coins: 2

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on top, random distribution.


1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 1 Unknown

709

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

TH19

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown



Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 700ft


Coins: 2

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on top, inserted into a circular crack.


1p 0 -

2p 2 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

CLUSTER 4

TH20

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown


710

Proximity to path: 91cm north-west of path



Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 702ft


Coins: 1

Discernible patterning of coins: Coin on top of stump.


1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

TH21

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood




Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 702ft


711

Coins: 2

Discernible patterning of coins: Coins on top, inserted into cracks.


1p 1 Unknown

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

TH22

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown



Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 702ft


Coins: 1

Discernible patterning of coins: Coin on top, bent over.


1p 0 -

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

712

2.39 – Tarr Steps Case-Study

Case-study name: Tarr Steps (TS)


Case-study location: Tarr Steps Woodland, Somerset, England

Case-study date (i.e. when did it become a ‘coin-tree?): Pre-2000 (pers. comm. Graeme

McVittie, Woodland Officer, 16/01/2013)

Case-study environment: Woodland and riverside

Land ownership: Exmoor National Park

16 9%

16 9%

47 26%

94 53%

6 3%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Tarn Hows

2654 53%

1434 29%

410 8%

267 5%

122 2.4%

32 0.6% 0 0

10 0.2%

65 1.3%


Unknown

Denominations of Coins at Tarn Hows

Mode = 2001

Median = 2001

Mean = 1999

Total = 4994

713

Attractions nearby: Tarr Steps clapper bridge


714


Title Map

No.


Number

Description

Tarr Steps

Clapper

Bridge

1 Monument Withypool and

Hawkridge,

Somerset

ENPHER

Monument

No.

MSO8673

A probable Medieval clapper

bridge, 55 metres long across the

River Barle.

Source: Exmoor National Park

HER

Monument

No.

1490668


Hawkridge,

Somerset

Monument

No.

1490668

A post-Medieval water meadow,

known as catchwork or field-

gutter system, of probable 19th

century date is visible on aerial

photographs as earthworks on the

western slopes of the Barle

valley, in an area enclosed by

North Barton Wood.

Source: PastScape

Monument

No.

1497905


Hawkridge,

Somerset

Monument

No.

1497905

The earthwork remains of two

field boundaries and narrow ridge

and furror of probable post-

Medieval date, visible on aerial

photographs.

Source: PastScape



716

TS1

Condition: Log

Species: Unknown


Proximity to path: Directly beside path, south-west-west of path

Proximity to river: 709cm south-west-west of river

Class of decay: 3


Orientation: SW-NE

Grid reference: SS 85936 32708 (±28ft)


Elevation: 606ft


Coins: 1



1p 0 -

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

TS2

Condition: Log


Associated tools: 5 hammer rocks: 13x11x3cm; 11x8x5cm; 9.5x9x2cm; 15x12x6cm;

11x8x4cm, all showing signs of abrasion and witnessed being used as tools of percussion



Proximity to TS3: 372cm south-east of TS3

Proximity to TS4: Directly east of TS4, touching

717

Proximity to TS5: 836cm north-west of TS5

Proximity to TS6: 9cm north-east-east of TS6

Proximity to TS7: 342cm north of TS7

Proximity to TS8: 398cm south of TS8

Proximity to TS9: 831cm north-north-west of TS9

Proximity to TS10: 829cm north-north-west TS10

Class of decay: 3


Orientation: NE-SW



Elevation: 585ft


Coins: 8758

Discernible patterning of coins: Primarily longitudinal, many folded over.


1p 4330 1978, 1979, 1979, 1982, 1984, 1988, 1989,

1989, 1989, 1989, 1990, 1990, 1991, 1999,

1999, 200-, 2000, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001,

2002, 2003, 2004, 2004, 2006, 2008,

33xpost-2008, 2009, 2009, 2010, 2010,

2012, 2012

2p 3661 1971, 1971, 1975, 1976, 1976, 1976, 1977,

1978, 1978, 1979, 1979, 1980, 1980, 1981,

1981, 1981, 1981, 1985, 1986, 1988, 1988,

1988, 1989, 199-, 1990, 1991, 1991, 1992,

1992, 1995, 1995, 1995, 1996, 1998, 1998,

1998, 1998, 200-, 200-, 2000, 2000, 2001,

2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2001, 2003, 2003,

2004, 2004, 2004, 2004, 2005, 2005, 2006,

2007, 2007, 2007, 2007, 2008, 2008, 2008,

2008, 42xpost-2008, 2009, 2009, 2010, 2011

5p 322 1990, 1991, 1997, 1998, 2003, 2005, 201-,

2011, 2011, 2012

10p 264 1992, 1992, 1992, 2000, 2000, 2004, 2008,

2008, 2009, 2009, 2009, 2010

20p 96 1982, 1985, 199-, 1991, 1998, 2003, 2009,

2010

50p 3 Post-2008

£1 1 Unknown

£2 0 -

718

Foreign currency 9 4 x 1 euro, 2 euro cents, Spanish euro,

French euro, Danish øre, American coin

(denomination unknown)

Unknown 72 Unknown

TS3

Condition: Log


Associated tools: See TS2



Class of decay: 3


Orientation: NE-SW



Elevation: 585ft


Coins: 1237

Discernible patterning of coins: Longitudinal, many folded over.


1p 618 1981, 1983, 1986, 1993, 1997, 2000, 2000,

2004, 2005, 2007, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2011,

2011, 2012

2p 482 1978, 1979, 1980, 1980, 1987, 1993, 1998,

1999, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2003, 2004, 2004,

2004, 2008, 2008, 2009, 2011

5p 56 200-, 2000

10p 49 2005, 2011

20p 12 2002, 2xpost-2008

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 4 Polish groszy, 1 euro, 1 euro, 10 euro cents

Unknown 16 Unknown

TS4

Condition: Log

719



Proximity to path: Directly by path, south of path


Class of decay: 3


Orientation: E-W



Elevation: 585ft:


Coins: 118

Discernible patterning of coins: Primarily longitudinal, many inserted very deeply.


1p 50 2000

2p 37 1990, 1998, 1998

5p 14 Unknown

10p 12 Unknown

20p 3 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 1 Unknown

£2 0 -


Unknown 1 Unknown

TS5

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood



Proximity to river: 900cm of river

Class of decay: 4


Orientation: NE-SW


720


Elevation: 585ft


Coins: 6



1p 1 Unknown

2p 1 Unknown

5p 2 1992, post-2008

10p 1 Unknown

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

TS6

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown




Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 585ft


Coins: 10



1p 6 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 3 Unknown

10p 0 -

721

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

TS7

Condition: Stump

Species: Unknown




Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 585ft


Coins: 2



1p 1 Unknown

2p 0 -

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -

Foreign currency 1 1 euro

Unknown 0 -

TS8




722

Proximity to path: In middle of path





Elevation: 585ft

Girth: 123cm

Highest coin: 159cm

Coins: 13



1p 10 2009

2p 2 2001

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

TS9

Condition: Living








Elevation: 585ft

Girth: 233cm

Highest coin: 164cm

Coins: 17

723



1p 7 1977, 1997, 2005

2p 4 2005

5p 2 1999

10p 2 2007

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

TS10

Condition: Living








Elevation: 585ft

Girth: 179cm

Highest coin: 148cm

Coins: 7



1p 3 200-, post-2008

2p 2 Unknown

5p 1 2010

10p 0 -

20p 1 Unknown

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

724

STAND-ALONE

TS11

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood




Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 579ft


Coins: 5



1p 3 Post-2008

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

TS12

Condition: Log

Species: Hardwood


Proximity to path: Directly beside path, north-north-west of path

Proximity to river: 604cm, south-south-east of river

Class of decay: 3

725





Elevation: 580ft


Coins: 2



1p 1 200-

2p 1 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

TS13

Condition: Stump

Species: Hardwood

Associated tools: Some potential hammer rocks


Proximity to river: 240cm north-west of river

Class of decay: 3




Elevation: 572ft


Coins: 5

Discernible patterning of coins: 3 inserted into pre-existing cracks

726

Other notable features: Some scratches on surface, possibly graffiti


1p 2 Post-2008

2p 2 Unknown

5p 0 -

10p 1 Unknown

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

STAND-ALONE

TS14

Condition: Log

Species: Softwood


Proximity to path: Directly overhanging path, north of path

Proximity to river: roughly 8m south of river

Class of decay: 3

Ease of access: Quite high above muddy section of path

Orientation: N-S



Elevation: 588ft


Girth: 139cm

Coins: 2



1p 0 -

2p 2 1971

5p 0 -

10p 0 -

20p 0 -

50p 0 -

727

£1 0 -

£2 0 -


Unknown 0 -

22 12%

28 16%

44 25%

74 41%

11 6%

1971-1980 1981-1990 1991-2000 2001-2010 2011-Present

Dates of Coins at Tarr Steps

5032 49%

4196 41%

400 4%

330 3%

116 1%

3 0.03%

2 0.02% 0

15 0.1%

89 0.9%

Denominations of Coins at Tarr Steps

Mode = 2001

Median = 2000

Mean = 1997

Total = 10183

728

APPENDIX 3 – COIN DATA

3.1 – Denominations of all coins catalogued at coin-tree sites

Denominations of coins catalogued in England, Wales, Scotland, and Northern Ireland

Denominations AF AB AM AK BA BF BB CS CC

Pre-decimal halfpenny 0 28 5 0 0 0 0 0 0

Pre-decimal 1 penny 0 48 137 0 0 0 0 0 0

Pre-decimal 1 shilling 0 1 2 0 0 0 0 0 0

Pre-decimal 2 shillings 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Decimal halfpenny 0 0 2 0 0 0 0 0 0

1p 16547 247 1046 32 7640 1949 399 2 365

2p 9114 255 979 24 5901 1389 309 0 33

5p 1048 15 123 9 252 285 75 0 136

10p 597 6 127 11 177 192 61 0 14

20p 253 1 64 1 26 51 36 0 6

50p 58 0 12 0 5 2 1 0 0

£1 1 0 3 0 1 0 0 0 0

£2 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Foreign currency 16 5 24 1 8 7 1 0 2

Unknown 133 62 59 2 2227 9 14 0 2

Total 27767 668 2573 80 16237 3884 896 2 558

Denominations CR DD FG GZ HC HF IG IM LW






1p 4 2793 2454 894 64 160 29244 166 19

2p 0 2114 1858 612 33 108 23971 461 10

5p 1 227 255 54 20 29 1224 68 6

10p 1 144 232 26 5 34 797 135 0

20p 0 68 36 17 5 18 77 38 3

50p 0 15 4 0 1 0 5 19 0

£1 0 1 1 0 1 0 2 11 0

£2 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 0


Unknown 0 62 81 18 12 3 1566 136 0

Total 6 5438 4928 1628 142 353 56910 1975 38

Denominations LX LG MH MB PG PM RD SG SN



729




1p 26 2168 3420 39 1005 2370 70 559 1179

2p 31 1607 2403 25 612 1668 19 413 758

5p 5 283 131 6 61 546 19 51 52

10p 3 301 96 3 36 399 6 30 33

20p 2 110 17 0 2 56 0 12 14

50p 0 2 1 0 0 0 0 3 0

£1 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

£2 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0


Unknown 24 37 1246 0 59 90 5 38 8

Total 91 4529 7320 73 1776 5143 119 1114 2055

Denominations SNG TH TS Total

Pre-decimal halfpenny 0 0 0 72

Pre-decimal 1 penny 0 0 0 1043

Pre-decimal 1 shilling 0 0 0 3

Pre-decimal 2 shillings 0 0 0 15

Decimal halfpenny 0 0 0 2

1p 2098 2654 5032 84645

2p 1693 1434 4196 62030

5p 301 410 400 6092

10p 278 267 330 4341

20p 131 122 116 1282

50p 4 32 3 167

£1 2 0 2 25

£2 0 0 0 1

Foreign currency 8 10 15 240

Unknown 23 65 89 6070

Total 4528 4994 10183 166028

730

Denominations of coins catalogued in the Republic of Ireland

Denominations CL FR GB Total

1 Euro cent 7 35 11 53

2 Euro cents 8 27 14 49

5 Euro cents 19 27 9 55

10 Euro cents 19 4 7 30

20 Euro cents 9 5 7 21

50 Euro cents 9 4 2 15

1 Euro 6 0 1 7

2 Euros 1 1 0 2

Northern Ireland 1p 4 6 2 12

British 1p 2 1 1 4

British 2p 2 0 2 4

British 5p 0 2 0 2

British 10p 0 0 0 0

British 20p 1 0 0 1

Foreign currency 3 4 0 7

Unknown 2 5 2 9

Total 92 117 58 267

72 .04%

1043 0.6%

3 .002%

15 .009%

2 .001%

84645 51%

62030 37%

6092 3.7%

4341 2.6%

1282 0.8%

167 0.1%

25 .02%

1 .001%

240 0.1%

6070 3.7%

Denominations of Coins in England, Wales, Scotland, and Northern Ireland

731

53 20% 49

18%

55 21%

30 11%

21 8% 15

6% 7 3% 2

0.7%

12 4% 4

1%

4 1%

2 0.7% 0

1 0.4%

7 3%

9 3%

Denominations of Coins in the Republic of Ireland

732

3.2 – Dates of all coins catalogued at coin-tree sites

Dates AF AB AM AK BA BF BB CS CL

1871-1880 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1881-1890 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1891-1990 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1901-1910 0 6 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1911-1920 0 17 1 0 0 0 0 0 0

1921-1930 0 7 3 0 0 0 0 0 0

1931-1940 0 9 5 0 0 0 0 0 0

1941-1950 0 17 3 0 0 0 0 0 0

1951-1960 0 8 1 0 0 0 0 0 0

1961-1970 0 17 10 0 0 0 0 0 0

1971-1980 29 2 119 0 9 53 6 0 0

1981-1990 37 8 161 3 18 82 7 0 0

1991-2000 39 2 255 8 33 174 22 0 2

2001-2010 75 0 219 9 20 289 25 0 4

2011-Present 5 0 2 1 5 42 1 0 0

Mode date 2003/

2010

1967 1971 2000 2000 2000 2001 - 2003

Median date 1998 1943 1992 2000 1998 2001 2000 - 2002/

2003

Mean date 1995 1954 1990 2000 1996 1999 1997 - 2001

Dates CC CR DD FG FR GB GZ HC HF

1871-1880 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1881-1890 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1891-1990 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1901-1910 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1911-1920 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1921-1930 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1931-1940 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1941-1950 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1951-1960 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1961-1970 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1971-1980 0 0 19 4 1 0 0 0 3

1981-1990 1 0 35 8 0 0 0 2 3

1991-2000 1 1 67 9 4 0 3 3 4

2001-2010 5 2 101 15 17 0 15 8 11

2011-Present 1 0 9 1 2 2 0 1 0

Mode date - 2003 2000 2000,

2010

2007 - 2008 2001 2001

Median date 2001,

2004

2003 2000 2000 2005 - 2007 2001 2001

Mean date 2002 2000 1998 1997 2003 - 2005 2001 1997

Dates IG IM LW LX LG MH MB PG PM

1871-1880 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1881-1890 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

733

1891-1990 0 13 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1901-1910 0 29 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1911-1920 0 82 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1921-1930 0 32 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1931-1940 0 22 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1941-1950 0 16 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1951-1960 0 7 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1961-1970 0 22 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

1971-1980 34 119 1 0 22 3 1 6 9

1981-1990 66 94 1 0 26 7 2 5 14

1991-2000 114 179 1 0 39 17 2 14 56

2001-2010 140 111 0 1 58 37 5 17 91

2011-Present 13 0 0 0 4 0 1 1 0

Mode date 2000 1992,

1997

- 2000 2000 2001 2008 2000 2000

Median date 2000 1986 1988 2000 2000 2001 2001 2000 2001

Mean date 1997 1964 1984 2000 1996 2000 1998 1997 2000

Dates RD SG SN SNG TH TS Total

1871-1880 0 0 0 0 0 0 1

1881-1890 0 0 0 0 0 0 1

1891-1990 0 0 0 0 0 0 13

1901-1910 0 0 0 0 0 0 29

1911-1920 0 0 0 0 0 0 83

1921-1930 0 0 0 0 0 0 35

1931-1940 0 0 0 0 0 0 27

1941-1950 0 0 0 0 0 0 19

1951-1960 0 0 0 0 0 0 8

1961-1970 0 0 0 0 0 0 32

1971-1980 0 3 2 13 16 22 494

1981-1990 0 5 7 21 16 28 649

1991-2000 1 7 30 43 47 44 1221

2001-2010 5 12 55 72 94 74 1587

2011-Present 0 0 15 6 6 11 129

Mode date 2007 1996,

2008

2011 2001 2001 2001

Median date 2006,

2007

1997 2004,

2005

2001 2001 2000

Mean date 2005 1997 2003 1998 1999 1997

734

3.3 – Catalogue of foreign coins

Below is a catalogue of all non-UK coins catalogued in/on coin-trees. This also includes

coins from Guernsey, Jersey, the Isle of Man, and Eire.

Country/

Continent

Coin Quantity Coin-Trees

Australia 10 cents 3 IM2, LG9, LG9

Denomination

unknown

2 AF1, SG8

Canada 1 cent 2 AF1, AM1

5 cents 2 AM1, IM2

Denomination

unknown

2 BA1, BA5

Czech

Republic

20 haleru 1 AM1

Denmark 25 øre 2 AM1, FG(water)

50 øre 1 AF1

5 kroner 1 LG9

Denomination

unknown

2 LG9, TS3

Eire 1 penny 1 AM1

20 pence 1 IM2

Denomination

unknown

2 LG9, PM4

Europe 1 euro cent 20 AM1, AM1, BF1, BF6, DD11, FG3, GZ3, IM1, IM4,

LG9, LG9, LG9, PM4, PM4, PM6, PM8, SG1, SG1,

TH3

2 euro cents 9 AM1, IM2, IM9, PM12, PM12, SN1, SN2, TS2, TS3

5 euro cents 18 AF1, AF1, AM1, AM1, BF6, BB1, DD10, DD11,

DD11, IG3, IG3, IM2, IM8, LG9, PM6, SN2, SN2,

1 0.02%

1 0.02%

14 0.3%

35 0.8%

100 2.3%

42 0.9%

36 0.8%

36 0.8%

16 0.4%

49 1.1%

496 11%

657 15%

1223 28%

1587 36%

129 2.9%

Dates of Coins

735

SN2

10 euro cents 4 IG28, LG9, TH3, TS3

20 euro cents 14 AM1, FR1, IG3, IG3, IG3, IM2, LG3, LG9, LG9, SN1,

SN2, SNG1, SNG1, SNG5

50 Euro cents 2 IM5, IM6

1 euro 16 BF1, FG1, FG1, FG2, LG9, SN1, SNG1, TH3, TH10,

TS2, TS2, TS2, TS2, TS3, TS3, TS3

2 euros 4 SNG1, SNG1, TH3, TH3

Denomination

unknown

1 BA5

France 5 centime 1 AM1

1 franc 3 AM1, AM2, PM12

1 euro 1 TS2

Germany 2 pfennig 1 AM1

Greece 1 drachma 1 IG3

5 drachma 1 AM1

Guernsey Denomination

unknown

1 PM3

Hungary Forint

(denomination

unknown)

2 IG19, LG9

Isle of Man 10 pence 1 IM2

Japan 10 yen 2 AF1, AF1

Jersey 1 pence 1 AM1

Lithuania Denomination

unknown

1 LG9

Netherlands 10 cents 1 IM1

1 guilders 2 IM2, IM11

5 guilders 4 AM1, IM1, IM2, IM9

Denomination

unknown

1 LG9

Poland 1 grosz 4 FR3, FR3, IG4, PM6

2 groszy 2 IG3, IG3

5 groszy 3 BA5, IG3, PM6

Groszy

(denomination

unknown)

3 IG28, SN2, TS3

1 zloty 2 DD11, TH3

Romania 1 ban 1 SN1

Russia 1 rouble 1 AF1

Spain 1 euro cent 1 LG9

1 euro 1 TS2

South

Africa

5 cents 1 IM9

2 rand 1 AM1

Denomination

unknown

1 IM9

South

Korea

500 won 1 IM5

Switzerland 10 rappen 1 AM1

736

Tanzania Denomination

unknown

1 GZ3

Trinidad

and Tobago

25 cents 1 AM1

United

Arab

Emirates

Denomination

unknown

2 AM1, AK1

United

States of

America

1 cent 15 AB1, AM1, AM1, BF1, BF6, BA2, DD10, DD11,

DD14, IG3, IM1, IM5, IM6, SN2, TH3

5 cents 1 IM2

1 dime 4 AM1, AM1, BA3, IM9

1 dollar 2 AF1, CL1

Denomination

unknown

1 TS2

Unknown Unknown 70 AF1, AF1, AF1, AF1, AF1, AF1, AF1, AB2, AB2,

AB2, AB2, AM1, BF6, BA3, BA5, CL1, CC1, CC1,

DD8, DD10, DD10, DD11, DD11, DD11, FG1, FG2,

FR2, FR3, FR3, GZ3, GZ3, GZ3, GZ3, GZ3, HC6,

HF3, IG3, IG3, IG3, IG3, IG26, IG28, IG28, IG28,

IM1, IM2, IM6, LG9, LG9, MH4, MH4, MH5, MH7,

MH7, MH8, PG1, PG1, PG1, PG2, PM6, PM12,

SNG1, SG1, SG1, SG1, SG1, SG1, TH3, TH3, TH10

86

22

12 11 6 6 5 4 4 3 2 2 2 2 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1

53

Euro

USA

Po

lan

d

Net

her

lan

ds

Can

ada

Den

mar

k

Au

stra

lia

Fran

ce

Rep

ub

lic o

f Ir

elan

d

Sou

th A

fric

a

Un

ited

Ara

b E

mir

ates

Gre

ece

Hu

nga

ry

Spai

n

Ru

ssia

Jap

an

Trin

idad

an

d T

ob

ago

Cze

ch R

epu

blic

Swit

zerl

and

Ger

man

y

Tan

zan

ia

Lith

uan

ia

Ro

man

ia

Sou

th K

ore

a

Un

kno

wn

Foreign Currency in Coin-Trees

737

3.4 – Terms employed to describe the conditions of coins

Term Description

Good condition No damage to edges and coin’s faces are unworn and

easily decipherable.

Chipped Edges are chipped, suggesting that some percussion tool

was used to hammer the coin into the tree.

Bowed The coin has been deliberately bent over at roughly a 90

angle.

Crooked Both edges of the coin have been bent over, often

producing a curved effect.

Worn Through weathering, rather than deliberate damage, the

coin faces (dates, etc) are no longer decipherable.

Twisted The coin has been twisted, probably prior to insertion into

the tree.

Broken The coin is fractured, or some section of it has been

severed.

Verdigris The coin shows effects of verdigris, rust which causes

copper to turn blue or green.

3.5 – All deposits in/on the coin-trees catalogued into three groups: casual,

ambiguous, and planned

Casual Deposits Ambiguous Deposits Planned Deposits

Deposit Quantity Deposit Quantity Deposit Quantity

Coin 166,028 Nail 65 Metal plaque 3

Plastic token 3 Ribbon 25 Candle 1

Hair bobble 2 Screw 11 Semi-precious

stone

1

Hair clip 1 String 4 Total 5

Necklace 1 Bolt 1

Strips of

clothing

1 Beer bottle

cap

1

Headband 1 Drawing pin 1

Badge 1 AA battery 1

Earring 1 Total 106

Shoelace 2

Keyring 1

Sock 1

Feather 1

Flower 1

Receipt 1

Total 166,046

738

3.6 – The total number of coins issued in Britain each year, based on figures published by the Royal Mint

43

50

11

50

0

62

26

78

00

0

37

89

81

02

5

31

21

51

09

75

0

52

21

45

00

0

42

36

33

00

0

69

02

47

00

1

75

35

05

50

0

52

78

78

00

0

61

55

27

50

0 1

04

87

93

00

0

12

23

13

30

00

73

24

80

10

0

89

24

19

00

0

90

73

43

41

4

36

63

67

09

1

61

11

04

79

6

54

93

66

13

1 94

30

15

25

2 1

37

92

82

77

9

13

21

36

83

91

25

53

89

00

07

10

92

40

66

75

22

90

37

71

57

10

76

13

22

50

15

72

65

32

95

79

09

47

50

1

16

14

80

78

10

18

45

67

89

25

14

03

35

78

75

15

77

73

37

50

24

36

85

67

50

22

37

33

08

15

12

80

80

09

99

14

81

40

25

00

16

79

24

80

00

10

84

15

15

00

13

42

14

25

00

13

02

65

71

60

14

46

09

13

00

10

57

61

55

00

10

67

72

95

00

44

87

00

70

0

0

500,000,000

1,000,000,000

1,500,000,000

2,000,000,000

2,500,000,000

3,000,000,000

3,500,000,000

19

68

19

69

19

70

19

71

19

72

19

73

19

74

19

75

19

76

19

77

19

78

19

79

19

80

19

81

19

82

19

83

19

84

19

85

19

86

19

87

19

88

19

89

19

90

19

91

19

92

19

93

19

94

19

95

19

96

19

97

19

98

19

99

20

00

20

01

20

02

20

03

20

04

20

05

20

06

20

07

20

08

20

09

20

10

20

11

739

APPENDIX 4 – ETHNOGRAPHIC DATA

4.1 – Interview strategy

The primary method for ethnographic data collection from members of the public was

qualitative interviewing. This involved the use of semi-structured interview designs (see

below) aimed at determining certain factual information about the participant whilst

simultaneously encouraging the participant to expand their answers, to offer accounts of their

experiences, and to focus on the factors they consider most significant.

Audio equipment was considered intrusive and inappropriate to the settings, and so their

responses were noted down on paper instead, either quoted verbatim or paraphrased, along

with my personal observations. Whilst these engagements were later typed up, they are not

included in this thesis as transcribed interviews because of their nature as informal

ethnographic field-notes. However, these field-notes are drawn upon extensively throughout

the thesis, and the interview design is presented below.

Note: the below questions acted as guidelines only. Some interview participants answered all

questions; others, only some, whilst some spoke on topics not outlined in the design below.

Interview design

1. How many people are in the group?

2. What are the genders and estimated ages of those in the group?

3. Name of interview participant (if willing to give)

4. Ethnicity of interview participant (if willing to give)

5. Are you a local resident or a tourist?

i. If the latter, where have you travelled from?

ii. How long are you in the area?

6. Have you inserted a coin into this tree?

If yes:

i. Why did you insert a coin into the tree?

ii. Do you believe that inserting a coin will benefit you in some way?

iii. Do you think there is a reason people use coins in this way?

iv. What coin did you put into the tree – i.e. can you point it out?

v. Why did you choose that particular coin?

vi. How did you insert the coin?

- If with a rock, can you point out the rock you used?

vii. Why did you choose to insert it in that particular place?

viii. Did you bend the coin over during insertion?

- If so, why?

ix. How would you feel if somebody removed your coin?

740

If no:

i. Why do you think other people have inserted coins into this tree?

ii. Do you think there is a reason people use coins in this way?

7. Why do you think this specific tree was chosen for this custom?

8. Do you know the species of this tree?

i. If yes, do you believe the species is relevant to the custom?

9. What do/would you call this particular tree?

10. Have you ever read anything about coin-trees/money-trees/wishing-trees?

i. If so, where?

11. Have you ever heard anything about coin-trees/money-trees/wishing-trees?

i. If so, from whom?

12. Have you ever seen this tree before? If yes:

i. When?

- If more than once, when was your earliest visit?

ii. How different did it look?

iii. Did you insert a coin that time? If yes, repeat Q6

13. Do you know of any other coin-trees in A) the local area; B) the British Isles; C)

elsewhere in the world? If yes:

i. Where?

ii. Have you visited it/them?

- If yes, repeat Q6

- If no, where did you read/hear about them?

14. Do you know of any historic or cultural sites in the local area?

i. If so, what do you know about them?

ii. Do you believe they are relevant to the coin-tree?

15. Do you believe that this tree should be protected?

If yes:

i. Why?

ii. How could it be protected?

iii. Would there be any downsides to these methods of protection?

If no:

i. Why not?

ii. Would there be any downsides to not protecting it?

4.2 – One hour observations

Below are the statistics of the one-hour observations at each coin-tree site for which

fieldwork was conducted. The total number of visitors who walked past the primary coin-tree

741

clusters are detailed and divided into 3 groups: those who walked past without appearing to

notice the coin-tree(s); those who commented on or stopped to examine/photograph the coin-

tree(s); and those who inserted a coin into the coin-tree(s).

Visitors actions AF AB AM AK BA BF BB CS CL

Walked past 103 n/a 0 22 20 8 6 0 0

Commented on/examined 137 n/a 0 4 96 55 30 0 0

Inserted a coin 22 n/a 0 0 49 15 0 37 0

Total 262 n/a 0 26 165 78 36 37 0

Visitors actions IG IM LW LX LG MH MB PG PM

Walked past 18 0 322 0 30 42 8 42 52

Commented on/examined 203 0 0 0 23 40 0 98 155

Inserted a coin 77 0 0 0 10 13 0 10 46

Total 298 0 322 0 63 95 8 150 253

Visitors actions RD SG SN SNG TH TS Total

Walked past 102 63 142 0 108 43 1994

Commented on/examined 0 59 128 88 188 31 1444

Inserted a coin 0 8 33 14 34 23 416

Total 102 130 303 102 330 97 3854

Visitors actions CC CR DD FG FR GB GZ HC HF

Walked past 264 0 135 12 0 26 113 36 277

Commented on/examined 23 0 42 4 0 0 26 3 11

Inserted a coin 0 0 8 3 0 2 6 2 4

Total 287 0 185 19 0 28 145 41 292

742

4.3 – Number of interviews conducted at each site

Coin-Tree Site Number of

Interviews

Coin-Tree Site Number of

Interviews

Aira Force 20 Hardcastle Crags 2

Ardboe 3 High Force 5

Ardmaddy 0 Ingleton 22

Arnside Knott 0 Isle Maree 3

Becky Falls 9 Leigh Woods 0

Bolton Abbey 10 Loxley 0

Brock Bottom 0 Lydford Gorge 6

Claife Station 0 Malham 10

Clonenagh 0 Marbury 0

Corfe Castle 4 Padley Gorge 8

Cragside 0 Portmeirion 20

Dovedale 20 Rydal 0

Fairy Glen 5 Snowdon 15

Fore 0 St Nectan’s Glen 10

Freeholders Wood n/a Stock Ghyll 5

Gougane Barra 2 Tarn Hows 21

Grizedale 4 Tarr Steps 15

4.4 – Age ranges of interview participants

Below are the age group quantities of every member of each group I interviewed on site.

Custodians and heritage professionals are not included in this survey.

Age

Range

AF BA BF CC DD FG GB GZ HC HF

Up to 18 14 12 7 6 22 2 1 5 4 3

18-30 7 0 7 2 3 1 0 2 0 2

31-40 6 6 10 6 13 2 0 2 2 3

41-50 6 6 4 2 7 0 2 0 2 2

51-60 8 2 0 0 6 2 0 0 0 0

60+ 5 1 4 0 5 3 2 2 0 2

Age

Range

IG LG MH PG PM SG SN SNG TH TS Total

Up to 18 22 4 5 5 6 2 11 5 14 15 165

18-30 5 0 2 6 10 2 31 4 4 3 91

31-40 22 4 3 4 6 4 11 4 19 8 135

41-50 6 5 2 4 7 0 6 2 5 4 72

51-60 4 0 5 2 6 0 4 6 9 8 62

60+ 6 5 6 2 11 1 1 0 2 4 62

743

4.5 – Ethnicities of interview participants

Below are the ethnicities of every member of each group I interviewed on site. Custodians

and heritage professionals are not included in this survey.

Ethnicity AF BA BF CC DD FG GB GZ HC HF

White British 31 27 26 16 50 10 3 11 8 12

African British 1 0 2 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Chinese British 4 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Pakistani British 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Irish 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Chinese 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

French 3 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Australian 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

American 2 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Dutch 2 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

German 2 0 4 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Indian 0 0 0 0 5 0 0 0 0 0

Spanish 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Canadian 0 0 0 0 0 0 2 0 0 0

165 28%

91 16%

135 23%

72 12%

62 11%

62 11%

Up to 18 18-30 31-40 41-50 51-60 60+

Ages of Interview Participants

Ethnicity IG LG MH PG PM SG SN SNG TH TS

White British 62 18 23 21 40 9 40 19 35 40

African British 0 0 0 2 0 0 3 0 3 0

Chinese British 0 0 0 0 0 0 5 0 0 3

Pakistani British 0 0 0 0 0 0 4 0 0 0

Irish 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 4

Chinese 0 0 0 0 3 0 0 0 2 0

French 0 0 0 0 0 0 10 0 1 0

Australian 0 0 0 0 0 0 2 0 0 0

American 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 2 0

Dutch 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

German 2 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 2

Indian 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Spanish 0 0 0 0 3 0 0 2 0 0

744

4.6 – Places of residence of interview participants

Below are the places of residence of every member of each group I interviewed on site. They

are divided into 3 groups: local resident (living within 20 miles of coin-tree site), domestic

tourist, and foreign tourist. Custodians and heritage professionals are not included in this

survey.

Place of Residence AF BA BF CC DD FG GB GZ HC HF

Southern England 19 2 13 14 4 3 0 0 0 0

Midlands England 5 0 8 2 15 0 0 3 0 0

Northern England 10 25 3 0 32 2 0 4 8 12

Scotland 0 0 0 0 0 5 0 4 0 0

Wales 2 0 4 0 0 0 3 0 0 0

Ireland 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Abroad (Europe) 7 0 4 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Abroad (Worldwide) 3 0 0 0 5 0 2 0 0 0

Place of Residence IG LG MH PG PM SG SN SNG TH TS

Southern England 6 15 4 0 14 0 31 15 17 23

Midlands England 2 0 4 2 7 0 8 3 5 9

Northern England 56 3 12 21 13 9 11 1 24 4

Scotland 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Wales 0 0 3 0 1 0 2 0 0 0

Ireland 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 4

Abroad (Europe) 7 0 0 0 3 0 10 2 0 2

Abroad (Worldwide) 0 0 0 0 8 0 2 0 4 0

501 85.3%

14 2.4%

12 2%

11 1.9%

10 1.7%

7 1.2%

5 0.9%

5 0.9%

5 0.9%

4 0.7%

4 0.7%

4 0.7%

3 0.5%

2 0.3%

Ethnicities of Interview Participants

745

Type of Visitor AF BA BF CC DD FG GB GZ HC HF

Local resident 0 11 0 2 7 1 0 0 4 0

Domestic tourist 36 16 28 14 46 9 3 11 4 12

Foreign tourist 10 0 4 0 5 0 2 0 0 0

Type of Visitor IG LG MH PG PM SG SN SNG TH TS

Local resident 2 7 4 5 0 2 0 0 0 4

Domestic tourist 62 11 19 18 35 7 52 19 46 36

Foreign tourist 7 0 0 0 11 0 12 2 4 2

4.7 – The various names given to the coin-trees by interview participants

Name Quantity

Money tree 74

Coin tree 32

Penny tree 22

Wish/wishing tree 20

Luck/lucky tree 6

Magic tree 3

Tree/log/post with coins in 3

Pixie tree 2

Fairy tree 2

Sacred tree 1

Coined tree 1

Hippy tree 1

Dead tree 1

Local resident 8%

Domestic tourist 82%

Foreign tourist 10%

Types of Visitors to Coin-Tree Sites

746

APPENDIX 5 – THE ARDMADDY EXCAVATION

5.1 – Site Location

The site is pinpointed on the 2013 Ordnance Survey Map as ‘Wishing Tree’ (coordinates

178871 715191). It is located half a mile south of Ardmaddy Castle, Argyll, in a pass known

as Bealach na Gaoithe: the ‘pass of the winds’. The primary Ardmaddy coin-tree is uprooted

and lies prone within a wooden enclosure, 1.2m east of a rough track. The enclosure was

erected during the 1990s, following the tree’s fall, and is designed to deter livestock rather

than people; on the enclosure’s eastern side, there is a stile providing access.

The track, open to pedestrians and authorised vehicles only, cuts across land privately owned

by Ardmaddy Estate, and leads from Ardmaddy Bay to Degnish Peninsula. It is a popular

hiker’s route, detailed for example in MacDonald’s Walking in South Lorn (1983: 9), and

there are several ‘footpath’ signs indicating the route, one of which informs walkers that they

are en-route to the ‘Wishing Tree’.

Figure 1 – Map of the location of the primary Ardmaddy coin-tree

747

The coin-tree is 528ft above sea level, situated between two steep slopes in a high pass

between two valleys. The site offers a good vantage point towards Ardmaddy Bay and

Ardmaddy Castle to the north. Grid reference: NM 78880 15191.

5.2 – Excavation Site Plan

5.3 – Test Pit Dimensions

Test Pit Dimensions

1 0.8m x 0.8m

2 1m x 1m

3 1.5m x 0.5m

4 1m x 0.8m

5 1m x 0.8m

6 1m x 0.8m

Figure 2 – Ardmaddy excavation site plan

748

5.4 – Context Register

Context No. Context

Type.

Trench Recorded by Checked by Date

1 Top Spit 1 EM LB 01/09/2013

2 Top Spit 2 JN LB 01/09/2013

3 Top Spit 3 JP LB 01/09/2013

4 Top Spit 6 CH LB 02/09/2013

5 2nd

Spit 6 CH LB 02/09/2013

6 2nd

Spit 4 JP LB 02/09/2013

7 2nd

Spit 2 JN LB 02/09/2013

8 2nd

Spit 1 EM LB 02/09/2013

9 Top Spit 5 LB LB 02/09/2013

10 3rd

Spit 1 EM LB 03/09/2013

11 3rd

Spit 2 JN LB 03/09/2013

12 3rd

Spit 4 JP LB 03/09/2013

13 4th

Spit 2 JN LB 03/09/2013

14 2nd

Spit 5 EM/LB LB 04/09/2013

15 Top Spit 3 LB LB 04/09/2013

16 3rd

Spit 5 LB LB 04/09/2013

5.5 – Excavation Results

Test Pit 1

Test Pit 1 was 0.8m x 0.8m, and was located within the enclosure, between the two primary

limbs of the coin-tree and the eastern fence of the enclosure. It was also situated directly

beside the stile designed to allow access into the enclosure. The first spit was assigned the

context number 001; it consisted of stone, sand and soil, and was dark, slightly grey brown in

colour, with patches of mid-orange brown. The north-east corner of the spit was dominated

by roots. 1 coin and 1 piece of string were discovered on the surface; 43 coins were recovered

from the turf (and therefore not allocated small-finds numbers or 3D recorded); and 27 were

unearthed within the first spit. The majority of these were located to the south of the pit, at

the edge closest to the main limb of the coin-tree.

The second spit (context number 008) consisted of stone, soil, and sandy silt, and was mid-

orange brown in colour. There were high concentrations of small stones in the north-west and

north-east corners. 2 coins were unearthed, one of which was a pre-decimal 1 penny, both

located at the top of the spit in the south-western corner; the closest corner to the coin-tree’s

primary limb.

Test Pit 1 produced one pre-decimal coin; this was excavated in the south-western corner,

closest to the coin-tree.

The third spit produced no finds or archaeological features. Having reached a depth of 30cm,

Test Pit 1 was backfilled and re-turfed.

749

Figure 3 - Test Pit 1

Figure 4 – Small finds, both coins and non-coin, plotted on a plan of Test Pit 1

750

Figure 5 – Small finds, coins and non-coin, plotted on a plan of Test Pit 1 according to their

context

Figure 6 – Coins plotted on a plan of Test Pit 1 according to their date

751

Test Pit 2

Test Pit 2 measured 1m x 1m and was located immediately south-west of the coin-tree,

between the tree’s root-end and the south-west corner of the enclosure. The first spit (002)

consisted of stone and soil, and was dark brown in colour. 20 coins were recovered from the

turf, and 98 finds (including a section of pipe, an unidentified piece of metal, and a metal

ring-pull as well as coins) were unearthed within the pit. The majority were located along the

northern section, along the edge closest to the coin-tree.

The second spit (007) consisted of soil, stone and gravel, and was dark brown in colour. 76

small finds were recovered, including a large, bent nail in the centre of the pit’s northern

edge. The majority of the coins were found throughout the context along the northern edge,

with high concentrations in the north-west corner, closest to the coin-tree, but diminishing

towards the lower level of the spit.

The third (011) consisted of soil and stone, and was also dark brown in colour. 1 coin was

recovered in the north-west corner at the lowest level of the spit. The fourth spit (013)

consisted of soil, stone and gravel, was also dark brown, and produced no finds or

archaeological features. At a depth of 40cm, Test Pit 2 was backfilled and re-turfed.

There appears to be no significance to the distribution of coins according to their years of

issue.


752

Figure 8 – Small finds, both coins and non-coins, plotted on a plan of Test Pit 2

Figure 9 – Small finds, coins and non-coins, plotted on a plan of Test Pit 2according to

their context

753

Test Pit 3

Test Pit 3 measured 1.5m x 0.5m, filling the narrow space between the coin-tree and the

enclosure’s western edge, running alongside a large loose branch. Due to the restrictive

nature of this test pit’s layout, this was the last to be excavated.

The fill of Test Pit 3 consisted of stone, dark brown soil, and a high concentration of red-

brown fragments of wood. 71 finds were recovered from the turf, and 110 were unearthed

within the first spit (context number 015). The majority of the finds were post-decimalisation

coins, but there 11 were pre-decimal. The high concentration of coins and the large quantity

of wooden fragments within Test Pit 3 are probably due to a branch having fallen into that

area from the coin-tree and subsequently having decayed. The south-east corner of the pit

could not be excavated due to a large section of branch within the turf.

The first spit of Test Pit 3 proved to be the most fruitful but, despite the high quantity of finds

it produced, it was not taken to a sufficient depth due to time constraints. The first spit

(context number 015) was taken to various levels before it required backfilling due to a

shortage in time.

There appears to be no significance to the distribution of coins according to their years of

issue.


754


Figure 12 – Small finds, both

coins and non-coin, plotted on

a plan of Test Pit 3

755

Test Pit 4

Test Pit 4 measured 1m x 0.8m and was located in the south-east corner of the enclosure.

Overhanging the northern edge of the pit was a raised limb of the coin-tree, on which there

was a high quantity of coins.

The first spit (context number 003) consisted of soil, stone and clay, and was orange brown in

colour. 30 finds were recovered from the turf, and 50 unearthed within the pit; these were

slightly concentrated along the north edge of the pit, beneath the overhanging branch of the

coin-tree; probably a result of many coins having fallen from it.

The second spit (006) also consisted of soil, stone and clay, but was grey-blue in colour. 5

coins were unearthed in this spit, all of which were close to the western edge of the pit, with 3

clustered in the north-west corner beneath the overhanging branch.

The fourth spit (012), which again consisted of soil, stone and clay, produced no finds or

archaeological features. At a depth of 30cm, Test Pit 4 was backfilled and re-turfed.

There appears to be no significance of the distribution of coins according to their years of

issue.

Figure 13 – Coins plotted on a

plan of Test Pit 3 according to

their date

756


Figure 15 – Small finds, only coins, plotted on a plan of Test Pit 4

757

Figure 16 – Small finds, only coins, plotted on a plan of Test Pit 4 according to their context


758

Test Pit 5

Test Pit 5 measured 1m x 0.8m and was located in the northern section of the enclosure,

immediately north of the coin-tree. There was a high level of decayed wood in the turf along

the south edge of the pit.

The first spit (context number 009) consisted of stone, gravel, sand, soil, and roots, and was

mid-brown in colour with pale brown sandy patches around the roots. 52 finds were

recovered from the turf, and 90 were unearthed within the pit. A seashell, a piece of glass,

and plastic coated wire were found amongst the coins. At the level immediately below the

turf, the finds were widely distributed across the pit. However, at the base of the spit they

were concentrated in the south-west corner and south edge, where a high quantity of decaying

wood was also present.

The second spit (014) consisted of stone, gravel, sand and soil, and was mid-brown in colour

with yellow sandy patches. 7 finds were recovered from this spit, clustered in the south-west

corner at the base of a piece of decayed wood, and only in the top levels of the spit.

The third spit (016) also consisted of stone, gravel, sand and soil, but had high levels of grey-

brown silt; the mixed nature of the context was probably due to root activity. This spit

produced no finds or archaeological features, and so at a depth of 30cm was backfilled and

re-turfed.

There appears to be no significance of the distribution of coins according to their years of

issue.


759

Figure 19 – Small finds, both coins and non-coins, plotted on a plan of Test Pit 5

Figure 20 – Small finds, including coins and non-coins, plotted on a plan of Test Pit 5

according to their context

760

Test Pit 6

Test Pit 6 measured 1m x 0.8m and was the only test pit located outside of the enclosure. It

was north-east of the enclosure and the coin-tree, below the stile. This area was selected

because it was one of the few areas outside the enclosure which was identified as a potential

‘hot spot’ by the metal detector.

The first spit (004) consisted of soil and stone, and was dark black-brown in colour. 2 coins

and a shoelace were recovered from the turf, but none were unearthed within the pit. The

second spit (005) consisted of soil and silty sand with gravel patches, the mixed nature of the

context probably due to root activity. It produced no finds or archaeological features, and at a

depth of 20cm, Test Pit 6 was backfilled and re-turfed.


761

5.6 – The Distribution of the Coins

Test Pit 1 produced a total of 73 coins and one piece of string. Test Pit 2 produced 191 coins,

a fragment of clay pipe, a piece of metal, a ring-pull, and a nail. Test Pit 3, 180 coins and a

piece of metal (possibly a button); Test Pit 4, 81 coins and a piece of string; and Test Pit 5,

146 coins, a seashell, a piece of glass, and blue plastic-coated wire. Test Pit 6, however,

produced only 2 coins and a shoelace, and these were both recovered from the turf. It is likely

that it was Test Pit 6’s location outside the enclosure which resulted in the low quantity of

finds.

The results demonstrate that closer proximity to the coin-tree yields more finds. In Test Pit 1,

the majority of the coins recovered were located to the south of the pit, particularly in the

south-west corner, in the section closest to the main limb of the coin-tree. In Test Pit 2, the

majority of coins were uncovered along the northern section, along the edge closest to the

coin-tree. In Test Pit 4, the coins were concentrated along the north edge of the pit, beneath

an overhanging branch of the coin-tree. Likewise, the coins recovered from Test Pit 5 were

concentrated in the south-west corner and along the south edge, closer to the coin-tree, where

a high quantity of decaying wood was also present.

In deeper contexts, this trend is more pronounced, with a significant majority of coins from

2nd

spits clustered along the edges or within corners closest to the coin-tree.

These results clearly affirm the coin-tree as the focal point of the custom of deposition. Coins

do not appear to have been deposited randomly throughout the enclosure, but specifically

within/on the coin-tree itself. It is notable that context 015 in Test Pit 3 produced the most

finds but also produced the highest concentration of woody debris, as well as 26 coins still

embedded within fragments of wood, suggesting that many of the coins uncovered from this

Figure 22 -

Test Pit 6

762

pit were from a fallen and decayed branch. Indeed, the results suggest that the majority of all

coins uncovered were initially deposited in/on the coin-tree, and were dislodged before

burial, as opposed to having been originally deposited on the ground.

Figure 23 – The distribution of small finds in relation to the fence and the coin-tree

763

Figure 24 – The distribution of small finds without the fence or coin-tree as reference

Figure 25 - Small-

finds from the turf

t215 & t216 still

embedded within

woody debris.

764

5.7 – The Dates of the Coins

Most of the coins were datable, with only 133 coins proving too worn or corroded to reveal

their years of issue.

The earliest datable coin was a 1 penny issued in 1914. 16 more coins were datable as pre-

decimal, ranging from 1921 to 1970, whilst a further 7 were identified as pre-decimal based

on their size and design. The vast majority of the coins (649), however, were decimal; the

most common year of issue was 1971, but as Graph 1 illustrates, the decade which produced

the highest quantity of deposited coins was the 1990s. The large volume issued in the 2000s

also demonstrates that the custom of coin deposition did not cease with the fall of the tree,

whilst the presence of coins from the 2010s – a 2011 1p in the first spit of Test Pit 4, along

with a 2013 5p observed within the coin-tree itself – reveals that the custom is still active.

1 0.2%

3 0.5%

4 0.7%

3 0.5% 0

3 0.5%

104 19%

122 22%

186 33%

133 24%

1 0.2%

1910s 1920s 1930s 1940s 1950s 1960s 1970s 1980s 1990s 2000s 2010s

Dates of Coins

Graph 1 – The dates of the coins excavated at Ardmaddy.

Total = 560

765

5.8 – The Denominations of the Coins

Only 8 of the coins recovered were unidentifiable; for the vast majority, their denominations

were easily deducible. As Graph 2 illustrates, the highest denomination group was the

decimal 1p, closely followed by the decimal 2p; following these, the numbers sharply

decline. This demonstrates that a coin’s popularity as a deposit is inversely proportionate to

its economic value.

Although the majority of coins were British, there were 14 examples of foreign currency.

Representative countries were the Netherlands, the United States of America, the Republic of

Trinidad and Tobago, France, the Republic of Ireland, the Czech Republic, Canada,

Switzerland, Greece, Denmark, and Germany. This would suggest that foreign tourists have

been participating in the custom also.

The low denominations of these coins, illustrated in Table 1, are in keeping with those of the

British coins deposited. Likewise, their dates are not dissimilar, ranging from 1968 to post-

2002 (the 2 Euro cent).

Country Denominations Years of Issue

Netherlands 5 guilders 1985

USA 1 cent

1 cent

1 dime

1 dime

Unknown

1980

1996

1986

Trinidad and Tobago 25 cents 1976

The Republic of Ireland 1 penny 1971

4 0.6%

20 3%

0

2 0.3%

247 36%

243 35%

62 9%

53 8% 35

5% 7 1%

2 0.3% 0

14 2%

5 0.7%

Denominations of Coins

Graph 2 – The denominations of the coins excavated at Ardmaddy.

Total = 691

766

The Czech Republic 20 haleru Unknown (1993-2003)

Canada 1 cent 1979

France 5 centime 1973

Switzerland 10 rappen 1968

Greece 5 drachma 1984

Denmark 25 ore 1996

Germany 2 pfennig Unknown

Unknown (Europe) 2 Euro cent Unknown

Unknown Unknown Unknown

5.9 – Depths of Coins

Date of Coins Turf Top Spit 2nd

Spit 3rd

Spit

1914 0 0 1 0

1921 0 0 1 0

1922 1 0 0 0

1927 0 1 0 0

1936 1 0 1 0

1938 1 0 0 0

1939 0 1 0 0

1944 0 1 0 0

1945 0 1 0 0

1946 0 1 0 0

1964 1 0 0 0

1967 0 1 0 0

1968 0 1 0 0

1970 0 1 0 0

1971 16 29 11 0

1973 1 4 1 0

1974 0 2 0 0

1975 1 5 1 0

1976 2 4 1 0

1977 0 3 2 0

1978 2 5 2 0

1979 4 8 2 0

1980 6 8 2 0

1981 4 8 1 0

1982 4 6 0 0

1983 3 2 0 0

1984 0 4 0 0

767

1985 1 2 1 0

1986 2 10 1 0

1987 2 8 2 0

1988 2 15 8 0

1989 6 9 3 0

1990 9 21 4 0

1991 3 5 5 0

1992 11 18 4 0

1993 4 4 0 0

1994 5 6 0 0

1995 2 2 2 0

1996 8 9 3 0

1997 4 22 1 0

1998 4 3 2 0

1999 5 12 1 1

2000 13 19 3 0

2001 11 9 3 0

2002 8 11 0 0

2003 9 5 1 0

2004 7 7 0 0

2005 7 6 0 0

2006 3 5 0 0

2007 1 1 0 0

2008 1 2 0 0

2011 0 1 0 0

Total 175 308 70 1

This table shows little relationship between the age of the coins and the depths they were

buried. The majority of coins, regardless of date, were recovered from the top spits, within

the first 10cm. The only coin to be excavated from the third spit (at a depth of 30cm in pit 2)

was a 1999 5p (x303). The relatively late date of this coin indicates that the depth of the coin

does not necessarily correlate with its age, further evidence suggesting that these coins were

not buried by their depositors but inserted in/on the tree, from which they fell and became

buried via natural processes.

768

5.10 – Levels of Corrosion

Each coin was assigned a corrosion level from 1-4, their descriptions and quantities outlined

in the table below.

Corrosion

Level

Description Example Quantity

1 Coin exhibits no

signs of corrosion.

x43

8

2 Coin exhibits

some

discolouration and

patination.

x6

427

3 Coin exhibits

signs of corrosion

and rust.

x37

180

769

4 Coin is physically

deformed due to

high levels of

corrosion and rust.

x55

76

As these figures demonstrate, only a small minority (8, 1%) of the coins exhibited no signs of

corrosion, but the majority (427, 62%) were assigned a corrosion level of 2, showing only

some signs of discolouration and patination. A smaller portion (180, 26%) were assigned

level 3, exhibiting greater signs of corrosion, whilst 76 (11%) were physically deformed due

to high levels of corrosion and rust. These figures have obvious implications for dating: the

less corroded a coin was, the more likely their year of issue was identifiable.

770

As Graph 3 demonstrates, there is a correlation between the level of corrosion and the year of issue. However, it does not illustrate that older

coins are likely to exhibit greater signs of corrosion, but that newer coins are. This is probably due to more recent coins being made of poorer

quality materials (see Chapter 7).

Graph 3 – The corrosion levels, 1-4, of datable coins excavated in relation to their years of issue

0

10

20

30

40

50

60

1914 1927 1938 1944 1946 1964 1968 1971 1974 1976 1978 1980 1982 1984 1986 1988 1990 1992 1994 1996 1998 2000 2002 2004 2006 2008

Qu

anti

ty o

f C

oin

s

Date of Coins

Corrosion Levels of Datable Coins Excavated

1

2

3

4

771

As Graph 4 demonstrates, there is little correlation between the depths of the coins and their

levels of corrosion.

1 7 0 0

102

219

61

1

59 71

8 0

13 12 1 0

0

50

100

150

200

250

Turf Top Spit 2nd Spit 3rd Spit

Corrosion Level 1 Corrosion Level 2 Corrosion Level 3 Corrosion Level 4

Graph 4 – The levels of corrosion of coins in relation to the depth they were discovered.

x303, 1999 5p

excavated from

3rd

spit, assigned

corrosion level 2.

772

5.11 – Signs of Percussion

There were no obvious tools of percussion at the Ardmaddy site. However, 228 (33%) of the

coins exhibited signs of damage through impact suggesting that they were originally

hammered into the tree. The types of damage are outlined in the table below:

Type of Damage Example Quantity

Coin exhibits no sign

of damage

x193

463

Coin is crooked t189

10

Coin’s edge is

chipped/abraded

x159

151

Coin’s edge is

chipped/abraded and

the coin is crooked

x470

67

773

As Graph 5 demonstrates, there is some correlation between the ages of coins and signs of percussion: a larger proportion of older coins exhibit

signs of percussion than the newer coins. This may suggest that a larger proportion of older coins were hammered into the coin-tree; perhaps as

the coin-tree reached a certain level of decay, fewer participants were inclined to hammer their coins into the fragmented bark, and preferred to

deposit them on top of the tree’s prone limbs.

0

5

10

15

20

25

30

35

1914 1927 1938 1944 1946 1964 1968 1971 1974 1976 1978 1980 1982 1984 1986 1988 1990 1992 1994 1996 1998 2000 2002 2004 2006 2008

Qu

anti

ty o

f C

oin

s

Dates of Coins

No

Yes

Graph 5 – The dates of the coins correlated with whether they showed signs of percussion (‘yes’) or not (‘no’).

774

5.12 – Non-Coin Deposits

Of the 703 small finds recorded, 12 were not coins, and they are detailed in the table below:

Small Finds

Number

Trench Context Object Description Measurements

x2 1 001 String One piece of off-white

string knotted to form a

loop.

Length: 312mm

x5 2 002 Pipe Fragment of dark

brown, glazed clay

pipe.

89mm x 67mm

x33 2 002 Piece of

metal

Heavily corroded

unidentifiable piece of

metal.

10mm x 8mm

x134 2 002 Ring-pull Metal ring-pull

showing some signs of

corrosion.

26mm x 20mm

775

x197 2 007 Nail Rusty, bent nail with

squared head, probably

19th

century.

Length: 77mm.

Head: 16mm x

15mm

x268 5 009 Plastic wire 2 pieces of blue plastic-

coated wire, originally

wound around each

other, showing little

sign of corrosion.

Lengths:

250mm &

346mm

x305 5 009 Glass Jagged, clear glass

fragment.

18mm x 11mm

776

x314 5 009 Seashell Fragment of white dog

cockle (Glycymeris),

common in the British

Isles.

20mm x 16mm

x410 3 015 Possible

button

Heavily corroded piece

of metal, possibly a

button.

11mm x 10mm

t222 4 003 String Piece of frayed, cream-

brown string, knotted

to form a loop.

Length: 250mm

777

t223 6 004 Shoelace Black, mud-coated

shoe/bootlace, with one

knot.

Length: 395mm

t224 2 002 Mussel shell Fragmented blue and

white mussel shell

(Mytilus edulis),

common in the British

Isles.

28mm x 21mm

Of these non-coin small finds, 4 were of pliable material: the two pieces of string, the

shoe/bootlace and the pieces of blue, plastic-coated wire. As there were a high volume of

pieces of cloth – ribbons, string, rags – currently tied to the coin-tree’s branches, it is possible

that these four finds were, likewise, initially affixed to the tree’s branches. Other non-coin

deposits may have been originally inserted into the coin-tree: the large bent nail and the piece

of glass.

The remaining non-coin finds are more ambiguous, and may or may not have been intended

as deposits: the seashells, the possible metal button, the metal ring pull, and the piece of clay

778

pipe. These objects were possibly deposited at the site in lieu of coins; however, viewed out

of context this would be pure speculation, and it is also possible that they were waste

products, accidental losses, or, in the case of the seashells, were deposited via natural

processes.

The locations of these non-coin small finds are illustrated in the plans above (Appendix 5.5).

There appears to be no significance to their distribution.

5.13 – Small Finds Register

S.

F.

No

Tre

nch

Con

tex

t

Des

crip

tio

n

Yea

r o

f

Issu

e

Wei

gh

t

Dia

met

er

Len

gth

of

wood

Sig

n o

f

per

cuss

ion

Lev

el o

f

Corr

osi

on

x1 1 1 Coin: 20p 1988 5.0g 23mm n/a No 2

x2 1 1

1 Piece of

string n/a 1.2g

Length

312mm with

one knot

making it

circular n/a n/a n/a

x3 2 2 Coin: 1p Unknown 3.9g 21mm n/a No 4

x4 2 2 Coin: 1p 1979 3.5g 20mm n/a Yes - edge 2

x5 2 2

Fragment

of clay

pipe n/a 186.4g

Length 89mm,

width 67mm n/a n/a n/a

x6 2 2 Coin: 10p 1992 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2

x7 2 2 Coin: 1p 1990 3.6g 20mm n/a No 2

x8 2 2 Coin: 2p 1980 6.9g 26mm n/a No 2




x12 2 2 Coin: 5p 2001 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

x13 2 2 Coin: 10p 1992 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2

x14 2 2 Coin: 2p 1971 7.1g 26mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x15 2 2

Coin: Pre-

dec. 1p 1939 9.0g 31mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x16 1 1 Coin: 50p 1997 7.8g 27mm n/a No 2

x17 1 1 Coin: 10p 1992 6.3g 24mm n/a No 2

x18 1 1 Coin: 5p 2006 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2


779

x20 1 1 Coin: 20p 1982 5.0g 21mm n/a No 2



x23 1 1 Coin: 50p 1997 8.0g 27mm n/a No 2

x24 2 2 Coin: 1p 1997 3.3g 21mm n/a No 3

x25 2 2 Coin: 10p 1992 6.5g 24mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2


x27 2 2 Coin: 2p 1979 7.1g 26mm n/a No 2


x29 2 2 Coin: 2p 2000 6.7g 26mm n/a No 3




x33 2 2

Piece of

metal Unknown 0.1g 10mm x 8mm n/a n/a n/a



x36 2 2 Coin: 2p 1994 7.0g 26mm n/a No 4


x38 2 2 Coin: 1p 1989 3.5g 21mm n/a No 2

x39 2 2 Coin: 20p 2005 4.9g 21mm n/a No 2


x41 2 2 Coin: 1p 2000 3.3g 20mm n/a No 3

x42 2 2 Coin: 2p 1971 6.7g 26mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x43 4 3 Coin: 1p 2003 3.6g 20mm n/a No 1

x44 4 3 Coin: 2p 1971 7.3g 26mm n/a No 1

x45 4 3 Coin: 1p 2006 3.6g 20mm n/a No 1

x46 4 3 Coin: 1p 2011 3.6g 20mm n/a No 1

x47 4 3 Coin: 2p 2008 7.0g 26mm n/a No 3

x48 4 3 Coin: 2p 1976 7.2g 26mm n/a No 2


x50 4 3

Coin: 2p

in wood 2001 7.9g 26mm n/a No 3


x52 1 1 Coin: 10p 2006 6.5g 24mm n/a No 2

x53 1 1 Coin: 2p 1981 7.1g 26mm n/a No 2

x54 1 1 Coin: 1p 2006 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3

x55 1 1 Coin: 1p 1993 3.5g 20mm n/a No 4

x56 1 1 Coin: 1p 2000 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3


x58 1 1 Coin: 5p 2000 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2



780

x61 2 2 Coin: 1p 1980 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

x62 2 2 Coin: 5p 1990 3.2g 17mm n/a No 2

x63 2 2 Coin: 5p 1999 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

x64 2 2 Coin: 2p Unknown 6.4g 26mm n/a Yes - edge 3


x66 2 2 Coin: 1p 1974 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

x67 2 2 Coin: 5p 2003 3.3g 17mm n/a No 2

x68 2 2 Coin: 20p 1982 4.9g 22mm n/a No 2


x70 2 2 Coin: 5p 1990 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2






x76 2 2 Coin: 1p 2001 3.4g 20mm n/a No 3


x78 2 2

Coin: 5

Netherlan

d guilders 1985 3.4g 21mm n/a No 2

x79 2 2 Coin: 20p 1987 4.8g 21mm n/a No 2


x81 2 2 Coin: 20p 1990 5.0g 21mm n/a No 2

x82 2 2 Coin: 2p 200- 7.0g 26mm n/a Yes - edge 3


x84 2 2 Coin: 2p 1997 7.1g 26mm n/a No 3

x85 2 2 Coin: 1p 1990 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3

x86 2 2 Coin: 10p 2004 6.5g 24mm n/a No 2

x87 2 2 Coin: 5p 1996 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

x88 2 2 Coin: 5p 1996 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

x89 2 2 Coin: 5p 1990 3.3g 20mm n/a No 2



x92 2 2 Coin: 10p 2004 6.5g 24mm n/a No 2

x93 2 2 Coin: 5p 1991 3.2g 17mm n/a No 2

x94 2 2 Coin: 5p 2006 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

x95 2 2 Coin: 2p 1996 7.0g 26mm n/a No 3

x96 2 2 Coin: 20p 2000 4.9g 21mm n/a No 2

x97 2 2 Coin: 1p 1971 3.3g 20mm n/a No 2

x98 4 3 Coin: 5p 1990 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

x99 4 3 Coin: 5p 1990 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

x100 4 3 Coin: 10p 2001 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2

x101 4 3 Coin: 20p 2002 5.0g 21mm n/a No 2

x102 4 3 Coin: 2p 2003 6.7g 26mm n/a No 3


781

x104 4 3 Coin: 2p 2000 6.3g 26mm n/a No 4


x106 4 3

Coin: Pre-

dec. 1p 1967 9.2g 31mm n/a Yes - edge 2


x108 4 3 Coin: 1p 1986 3.3g 20mm n/a No 2

x109 4 3 Coin: 1p 1988 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

x110 4 3 Coin: 2p 1981 7.1g 26mm n/a No 2



x113 4 3 Coin: 1p 2001 3.6g 20mm n/a No 3

x114 4 3 Coin: 2p 1997 7.1g 26mm n/a No 3

x115 4 3 Coin: 10p 1997 6.6g 24mm n/a No 2

x116 4 3 Coin: 1p 1988 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

x117 4 3 Coin: 1p 1997 3.2g 20mm n/a No 2

x118 4 3 Coin: 1p 1971 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

x119 4 3 Coin: 5p 2001 3.1g 18mm n/a No 2

x120 4 3

Coin: 1

US cent Unknown 2.3g 19mm n/a Yes - edge 3


x122 4 3 Coin: 2p 2000 7.1g 26mm n/a No 3

x123 4 3 Coin: 1p 2004 3.6g 20mm n/a No 3

x124 4 3 Coin: 2p 1990 7.0g 26mm n/a No 1

x125 4 3 Coin: 2p 1993 7.1g 26mm n/a No 3

x126 4 3 Coin: 1p 2003 3.4g 20mm n/a No 3

x127 4 3

Coin: 5

US cents Unknown 4.7g 21mm n/a Yes - edge 3


x129 4 3 Coin: 2p 1987 7.2g 26mm n/a No 2

x130 4 3 Coin: 2p 1988 6.9g 26mm n/a No 2

x131 4 3 Coin: 2p 1971 6.7g 26mm n/a No 2


x133 VOID

x134 2 2 Ring Pull n/a 0.6g

26mm x

20mm n/a n/a n/a

x135 2 2 Coin: 10p 1997 6.5g 24mm n/a No 2

x136 2 2 Coin: 2p 1971 6.9g 26mm n/a No 2

x137 2 2 Coin: 2p 2002 6.9g 26mm n/a No 3

x138 2 2 Coin: 1p 1979 3.6g 20mm n/a No 2

x139 2 2 Coin: 1p 1985 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

x140 2 2 Coin: 1p 1986 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

x141 2 2 Coin: 1p 1984 3.4g 20mm n/a No 2

x142 2 2 Coin: 5p 1991 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2



x145 2 2 Coin: 5p 1999 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

782


x147 2 2 Coin: 1p 1999 3.4g 20mm n/a No 3


x149 2 2 Coin: 2p 1980 6.9g 26mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2


x151 2 2

Coin: 25

Cents

Trinidad

and

Tobago 1976 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

x152 2 2 Coin: 2p 1978 6.7g 26mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x153 2 2 Coin: 2p 1971 6.8g 26mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2


x155 2 2 Coin: 2p 1971 7.0g 26mm n/a No 2

x156 2 2 Coin: 2p 1977 7.1g 26mm n/a No 2

x157 2 2 Coin: 1p 1975 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3



x160 2 2 Coin: 1p 1974 3.4g 20mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x161 2 2

Coin:

Pre-dec.

1p Pre-dec. 8.8g 31mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x162 2 2 Coin: 2p Unknown 6.7g 26mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x163 1 1 Coin: 1p 1973 3.4g 20mm n/a No 2

x164 1 1 Coin: 1p 1971 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

x165 1 1 Coin: 2p 1986 7.1g 26mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2



x168 1 1 Coin: 2p 2008 7.1g 26mm n/a No 3

x169 1 1 Coin: 2p 2003 6.3g 26mm n/a No 3

x170 4 3 Coin: 50p 1997 7.8g 27mm n/a No 2

x171 4 3 Coin: 5p 1994 3.1g 18mm n/a No 2

x172 4 3 Coin: 5p 1990 3.1g 18mm n/a No 2

x173 4 3 Coin: 20p 2001 5.0g 21mm n/a No 2

x174 4 3 Coin: 20p 1983 4.9g 21mm n/a No 2

x175 4 3 Coin: 5p 2007 3.3g 18mm n/a No 2

x176 4 3 Coin: 1p 2002 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3


x178 1 1 Coin: 2p 2005 6.8g 26mm n/a No 3

783

x179 1 1 Coin: 50p 1997 7.7g 27mm n/a No 2

x180 4 6 Coin: 2p 1971 6.7g 26mm n/a No 2

x181 4 6 Coin: 5p 1991 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

x182 4 6 Coin: 2p 1995 6.9g 26mm n/a No 3

x183 2 7

Coins: 1p

x 2 Unknown 7.0g 20mm n/a No 4


x185 2 7 Coin: 1p 1987 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2



x188 2 7 Coin: 2p 1971 7.0g 26mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2




x192 2 7 Coin: 1p 1998 3.2g 21mm n/a No 4

x193 2 7 Coin: 1p 1989 3.4g 20mm n/a No 2

x194 2 7 Coin: 1p 1988 3.4g 20mm n/a No 2

x195 2 7 Coin: 2p 1977 7.0g 26mm n/a No 2

x196 2 7 Coin: 20p 1998 4.9g 21mm n/a No 2

x197 2 7

Coin:

Crooked

hand-

made nail n/a 21.2g

Length 77mm;

head 16mm x

15mm n/a

Yes -

crooked 3

x198 2 7 Coin: 2p 2000 6.9g 26mm n/a No 3

x199 2 7 Coin: 1p 1985 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2


x201 2 7 Coin: 1p 1987 3.4g 20mm n/a

Yes -

crooked 2



x204 2 7 Coin: 5p 1990 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

x205 2 7 Coin: 5p 1990 3.1g 18mm n/a No 2

x206 2 7 Coin: 20p 1999 5.0g 21mm n/a No 2

x207 2 7 Coin: 1p 1992 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

x208 2 7

Coin:

Half-

penny

Unknown

(1971-

1983) 1.6g 17mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x209 2 7

Coin: 1

US cent 1980 3.0g 18mm n/a No 2


x211 2 7 Coin: 10p 1992 6.5g 24mm n/a No 2

x212 2 7 Coin: 2p 200- 6.7g 26mm n/a

Yes - edge

and crooked 3

x213 2 7 Coin: 1p 1976 3.4g 20mm n/a

Yes - edge

and crooked 2

x214 2 7 Coin: 1p 1988 3.3g 20mm n/a No 2

x215 2 7 Coin: 2p 1988 7.1g 26mm n/a

Yes - edge

and crooked 2

784

x216 2 7

Coin: 1

Eire

penny 1971 3.0g 20mm n/a

Yes - edge

and crooked 2

x217 2 7 Coin: 10p 1992 6.3g 24mm n/a No 2






x223 2 7 Coin: 2p 1971 6.9g 26mm n/a No 2



x226 2 7 Coin: 1p 2001 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3

x227 5 9 Coin: 2p 1988 7.0g 26mm n/a No 2

x228 5 9

Coin: 1p

in wood Unknown 12.7g 20mm 62mm Yes - edge 2

x229 5 9

Coin:

Pre-dec.

1p in

wood Pre-dec 25.1g 30mm 66mm

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x230 2 7 Coin: 2p 2001 7.2g 26mm n/a No 2

x231 2 7 Coin: 20p 1996 4.9g 21mm n/a No 2

x232 2 7 Coin: 1p 1971 3.3g 20mm n/a No 2

x233 2 7 Coin: 1p 2000 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3

x234 2 7 Coin: 2p 1991 7.1g 26mm n/a No 2

x235 2 7 Coin: 20p 1989 5.0g 21mm n/a No 2


x237 2 7

Coin:

Pre-dec.

Halfpenn

y Pre-1971 5.3g 25mm n/a

Yes -

crooked 3

x238 2 7 Coin: 1p 1986 3.4g 20mm n/a No 2

x239 2 7 Coin: 2p 1971 6.9g 26mm n/a No 2



x242 2 7 Coin: 1p 1990 3.4g 20mm n/a No 2


x244 2 7 Coin: 2p 1971 7.0g 26mm n/a No 2






x250 2 7 Coin: 10p 1992 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2

x251 2 7

Coin:

Pre-dec.

1p 1936 7.7g 30mm n/a Yes - edge 2

x252 1 8 Coin: 2p 1997 7.1g 26mm n/a No 2

785

x253 1 8

Coin:

Pre-dec. 1921 4.3g 25mm n/a No 2

x254 2 7

Coin:

Pre-dec.

1p 1914 8.8g 31mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x255 2 7 Coin: 2p 2000 6.9g 26mm n/a No 3


x257 2 7

Coin: 20

Czech

haleru

Unknown

(1993-

2003) 0.7g 17mm n/a No 3

x258 2 7 Coin: 1p 1988 3.4g 20mm n/a No 2

x259 2 7 Coin: 1p 1971 3.5g 20mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x260 2 7 Coin: 1p 1977 3.4g 20mm n/a

Yes -

crooked 2



x263 2 7 Coin: 1p 1975 3.3g 20mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x264 4 3 Coin: 1p 1979 3.1g 21mm n/a No 2

x265 4 3 Coin: 1p 1998 3.4g 21mm n/a No 3

x266 4 6 Coin: 1p 1980 3.2g 20mm n/a No 2

x267 4 6 Coin: 2p 1978 6.5g 26mm n/a No 2

x268 5 9

2 pieces

of blue

wire Unknown

0.1g

and

0.8g

250mm and

346mm n/a na na

x269 5 9

Coin: 1

Canadian

cent 1979 3.2g 19mm n/a No 2

x270 5 9 Coin: 1p 2002 3.4g 20mm n/a No 2


x272 5 9

Coin:

Half

Franc 1970 2.2g 18mm n/a No 2

x273 5 9 Coin: 1p 1996 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3


x275 5 9 Coin: 5p 1990 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2


x277 5 9 Coin: 1p 1989 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

x278 5 9 Coin: 5p 1992 3.3g 18mm n/a No 2



x281 5 9 Coin: 2p 1994 6.7g 26mm n/a No 3

x282 5 9 Coin: 10p 1996 6.5g 24mm n/a No 2

x283 5 9

Coin: 1p

in wood Unknown 4.9g 20mm n/a Yes - edge 2

x284 5 9 Coin: 2p 1995 6.6g 26mm n/a No 3

x285 5 9 Coin: 50p 2002 8.1g 27mm n/a No 2

x286 5 9 Coin: 2p 1971 6.9g 26mm n/a No 2

786

x287 5 9 Coin: 1p 1991 3.5g 21mm n/a No 2


x289 5 9

Coin: 2p

in wood 1978 8.1g 26mm 43mm Yes - edge 2


x291 5 9 Coin: 2p 20-- 6.2g 26mm n/a Yes - edge 3







x298 5 9

Coin:

Pre-dec.

1p in

wood 1946 12.8g 30mm 43mm Yes - bent 2


x300 5 9

Coin: 2p

in wood Unknown 23.5g 26mm 63mm

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2


x302 5 9 Coin: 2p 1998 7.0g 26mm n/a No 4

x303 2 11 Coin: 5p 1999 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2


x305 5 9

Fragment

of glass n/a 1.2g

18mm x

11mm n/a n/a n/a

x306 5 9 Coin: 2p 1994 6.9g 26mm n/a No 4

x307 5 9 Coin: 2p 1976 6.9g 26mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x308 5 9

Coin: US

dime 1996 2.2g 17mm n/a No 2


x310 5 9 Coin: 1p 1997 3.6g 20mm n/a No 3

x311 5 9 Coin: 10p 1992 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2

x312 5 9 Coin: 10p 1992 6.3g 24mm n/a No 2


x314 5 9 Seashell n/a 0.6g

20mm x

16mm n/a n/a n/a

x315 5 9 Coin: 20p 2000 5.0g 21mm n/a No 2

x316 5 9 Coin: 1p 1993 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3


x318 5 9 Coin: 5p 1997 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2



Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x321 5 9 Coin: 1p 1986 3.9g 20mm n/a No 4

x322 5 9 Coin: 2p 1971 6.5g 26mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and 2

787

edge

x323 5 9 Coin: 2p 1980 7.1g 26mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2




x327 5 9 Coin: 5p 1992 3.1g 18mm n/a No 2

x328 5 9 Coin: 5p 1990 3.0g 18mm n/a No 2

x329 5 9 Coin: 5p 1994 3.1g 18mm n/a No 2

x330 5 9 Coin: 2p 200? 7.1g 26mm n/a No 3

x331 5 9 Coin: 2p 1988 6.9g 26mm n/a No 2

x332 5 9 Coin: 20p 1993 5.0g 21mm n/a No 2


x334 5 9

Coin:

New 5p



x336 5 9

Coin:

Half-


Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x337 5 9

Coin: 2p


Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x338 5 9

Coin:

Half-

penny in

wood 1971 1.6g 16mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2


x340a 5 9 Coin: 1p Unknown 6.1g 20mm n/a No 4

x340b 5 9 Coin: 2p 2002 7.2g 26mm n/a No 3

x340c 5 9 Coin: 2p 2002 7.2g 26mm n/a No 2

x340d 5 9 Coin: 10p 2000 6.5g 24mm n/a No 2



x343 5 9 Coin: 1p 1971 3.4g 20mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x344 5 9 Coin: 2p 1971 7.1g 26mm n/a No 2

x345 5 9 Coin: 5p 2000 3.1g 18mm n/a No 2

x346 5 9 Coin: 2p 1971 6.6g 26mm n/a No 2



x349 5 9 Coin: 10p 1992 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2



x352 5 9 Coin: 1p 1989 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

x353 5 9 Coin: 20p 1982 4.6g 21mm n/a No 2


788


Yes -

crooked 2


x357 5 9 Coin: 1p 1997 3.4g 20mm n/a No 3

x358 5 9 Coin: 1p 2005 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3


x360 5 14 Coin: 2p 2003 7.0g 26mm n/a No 3

x361 5 14

Coin: 5

French

Centime 1973 1.9g 18mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x362 5 14 Coin: 5p 1990 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2



x365 5 14 Coin: 1p 1991 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

x366 3 15

Coin:

Pre-dec.

1p in

wood Pre-1971 14.6g 30mm 63mm

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2


x368 3 15

Coin:

Pre-dec.

1p 1927 1927 9.0g 31mm n/a

Yes -

crooked 2

x369 3 15 Coin: 2p 1989 7.1g 26mm n/a No 2


x371 3 15 Coin: 5p 1990 3.1g 18mm n/a No 2

x372 3 15

Coin: 10

Swiss

Rappen 1968 2.9g 19mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x373 3 15

Coin:

Ship

Half-


Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x374 3 15

Coin: 2p


Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x375 3 15

Coin: 1p

in wood Unknown 6.6g 20mm 45mm Yes - edge 2


Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x377 3 15 Coin: 10p 1992 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2

x378 3 15 Coin: 2p 1975 7.2g 26mm n/a No 2


x380 3 15 Coin: 2p 1992 7.3g 26mm n/a No 1

x381 3 15 Coin: 20p 2005 5.0g 21mm n/a No 2

x382 3 15 Coin: 2p 2001 7.1g 26mm n/a No 3

x383 3 15 Coin: 2p 2000 7.1g 26mm n/a No 2


x385 3 15 Coin: 2p 1979 6.9g 26mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2


789

x387 3 15

Coin: 5

Greek

drachma 1984 5.4g 23mm n/a No 2

x388 3 15 Coin: 1p 1979 3.4g 20mm n/a No 1

x389 3 15 Coin: 1p 1988 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

x390 3 15 Coin: 1p 1999 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3


x392 3 15 Coin: 2p 1981 7.0g 26mm n/a No 2


x394 3 15 Coin: 10p 1992 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2

x395 3 15 Coin: 2p 1999 7.0g 26mm n/a No 4




x399 3 15 Coin: 2p 1999 7.2g 26mm n/a No 3

x400 3 15

Coin: 2p


x401 3 15 Coin: 5p 1998 3.3g 18mm n/a No 2

x402 3 15 Coin: 2p 2000 7.0g 26mm n/a No 3

x403 3 15 Coin: 10p 1992 6.5g 24mm n/a No 2

x404 3 15 Coin: 10p 1992 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2

x405 3 15

Coin:

Half-


Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x406 3 15

Coin: 25

Danish

Ore 1996 2.8g 17mm n/a No 2


x408 3 15 Coin: 20p 1983 4.9g 21mm n/a No 2

x409 3 15 Coin: 2p 2000 6.8g 27mm n/a No 3

x410 3 15 Button? n/a 0.5g

11mm x

10mm n/a n/a n/a

x411 3 15 Coin: 2p 1997 7.0g 26mm n/a No 3



x414 3 15 Coin: 1p 2004 3.4g 20mm n/a No 3


x416 3 15 Coin: 2p 1980 7.0g 26mm n/a No 2


x418 3 15 Coin: 2p 1978 7.0g 26mm n/a No 2

x419 3 15 Coin: 10p 2005 6.6g 24mm n/a No 2


x421 3 15 Coin: 2p 1999 5.8g 26mm n/a No 4

x422 3 15

Coin:

Pre-dec.

1p Pre-1971 15.4g 30mm 55mm

Yes -

crooked and

edge 3

x423 3 15

Coin:

Pre-dec.

1p Pre-1971 13.7g 31mm 42mm

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

790

x424 3 15 Coin: 2p 1981 7.0g 26mm n/a No 2

x425 3 15 Coin: 2p 1980 6.9g 26mm n/a No 3



x428 3 15 Coin: 10p 2000 6.4g 26mm n/a No 2

x429 3 15 Coin: 1p 1971 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2


x431 3 15 Coin: 1p Unknown 3.7g

21mm x

18mm n/a No 4

x432 3 15 Coin: 2p 1989 7.0g 26mm n/a No 2

x433 3 15 Coin: 1p 1988 3.5g 20mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x434 3 15 Coin: 1p 1997 3.6g 20mm n/a No 3

x435 VOID

x436 3 15

Coin:

1p 1973 3.3g 20mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x437 3 15

Coin:

1p 1990 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

x438 3 15

Coin:

2p 2001 6.8g 26mm n/a No 3

x439 3 15

Coin:

2p 1989 7.1g 26mm n/a Yes -edge 2

x440 3 15

Coin:

1p 2002 3.6g 20mm n/a No 3

x441 3 15

Coin:

Pre-dec.

1p in

wood Pre-1971 22.6g 30mm

76m

m

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x442 3 15

Coin:

2p 1975 6.9g 26mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x443 3 15

Coin:

10p 2002 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2

x444 3 15

Coin:

2p 2004 6.9g 26mm n/a No 3

x445 3 15

Coin:

2p 1977 6.9g 26mm n/a Yes - edge 3

x446 3 15

Coin:

5p 1990 3.0g 18mm n/a Yes - edge 3

x447 3 15

Coin:

1p 1990 3.4g 20mm n/a No 3

x448 3 15

Coin:

2p Unknown 5.3g 26mm n/a No 4

x449 3 15

Coins:

2p and

5p

2000 and

1990

7.4g

and3.3g

26mm and

18mm n/a No 4 & 3

x450 3 15

Coin:

1p 1984 3.4g 20mm n/a No 2

x451 3 15

Coin:

20p 1982 5.0g 21mm n/a No 2

x452 3 15

Coin:

1p 1990 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3

x453 3 15

Coin:

1p 1988 3.5g 20mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and 2

791

edge

x454 3 15

Coin:

1p 1971 3.4g 20mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x455 3 15

Coin:

2p 2002 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3

x456 3 15

Coin:

2p 1996 7.1g 26mm n/a No 3

x457 3 15

Coin:


x458 3 15

Coin:

20p 1995 5.0g 21mm n/a No 2

x459 3 15

Coin:

2p 1971 7.0g 26mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x460 3 15

Coin:

1p unknown 3.4g 20mm n/a No 3

x461 3 15

Coin:

2p Unknown 7.1g 26mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x462 3 15

Coin: 2

German

pfennig Unknown 2.4g 19mm n/a

Yes -

crooked 3

x463 3 15

Coin:

2p 1987 7.1g 26mm n/a Yes - edge 2

x464 3 15

Coin:

10p 2005 6.5g 24mm n/a No 2

x465 3 15

Coin:

2p Unknown 7.1g 26mm n/a Yes - edge 2

x466 3 15

Coin:

1p 1988 3.4g 20mm n/a Yes - edge 2

x467 3 15

Coin:

1p 1997 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3

x468 3 15

Coin:


x469 3 15

Coin:


x470 3 15

Coin:

2p 1971 6.8g 26mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

x471 3 15

Coin:

20p 1982 4.9g 21mm n/a No 2

x472 3 15

Coin:

2p 1981 7.0g 26mm n/a Yes - edge 2

x473 3 15

Coin:

1p 1978 3.6g 20mm n/a Yes - edge 2

x474 3 15

Coin:

20p 1982 4.9g 21mm n/a Yes - edge 2

x475 3 15

Coin:

NEW

5p 1975 5.5g 23mm n/a

Yes -

crooked and

edge 3

x476 3 15

Coin:


792

5.14 – Small Finds in Turf S

. F

. N

o

Tre

nch

Co

nte

xt

Des

crip

tio

n

Yea

r o

f

Issu

e

Wei

gh

t

Dia

met

er

Len

gth

of

wo

od

Sig

n o

f

per

cuss

ion

Lev

el o

f

Co

rro

sio

n

t1 6 4 Coin: 2p 1993 5.7g

27mm x

25mm n/a No 4

t2 6 4 Coin: 5p 2005 3.1g 18mm n/a No 2

t3 1 1 Coin: 2p Unknown 6.7g 26mm n/a No 3

t4 1 1 Coin: 2p 2000 7.1g 26mm n/a No 3

t5 1 1 Coin: 2p 1971 7.1g 26mm n/a No 2

t6 1 1 Coin: 2p 2005 7.1g 26mm n/a No 3

t7 1 1 Coin: 2p 1999 7.0g 26mm n/a Yes - edge 3

t8 1 1 Coin: 2p 1989 7.1g 26mm n/a No 3

t9 1 1 Coin: 2p 2001 6.9g 26mm n/a No 3

t10 1 1 Coin: 20p 1989 5.0g 21mm n/a No 2

t11 1 1 Coin: 1p 2007 3.4g 20mm n/a No 3

t12 1 1 Coin: 2p Unknown 6.9g

25mm x

26mm

n/a

No 4

t13 1 1 Coin: 2p 1971 6.8g 26mm

n/a Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

t14 1 1 Coin: 2p 2001 6.8g 26mm n/a No 3

t15 1 1 Coin: 1p 1995 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3

t16 1 1 Coin: 1p 2003 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

t17 1 1 Coin: 2p 2001 7.1g 26mm n/a No 4

t18 1 1 Coin: 2p 1993 6.6g 26mm n/a No 4


t20 1 1 Coin: 5p 1990 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

t21 1 1 Coin: 5p 2000 3.3g 18mm n/a No 2

t22 1 1 Coin: 2p 2004 6.3g 26mm n/a No 3

t23 1 1 Coin: 10p 2004 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2

t24 1 1 Coin: 20p 1996 4.9g 21mm n/a No 2

t25 1 1 Coin: 1p 2006 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

t26 1 1 Coin: 1p 2003 3.3g 20mm n/a No 3


t28 1 1 Coin: £1 1994 9.4g 22mm n/a No 2

t29 1 1 Coin: 10p 1992 6.5g 24mm n/a No 2

t30 1 1 Coin: 5p 1994 3.3g 18mm n/a No 2

t31 1 1 Coin: 2p 1980 7.2g 26mm n/a No 2

t32 1 1 Coin: 1p 2003 3.4g 20mm n/a No 3

t33 1 1 Coin: 2p 1994 7.0g 26mm n/a No 4

t34 1 1 Coin: 1p 2008 3.6g 20mm n/a No 3

t35 1 1 Coin: 1p 1998 3.6g 20mm n/a No 3

793

t36 1 1 Coin: 2p 2000 7.0g 26mm n/a No 3

t37 1 1 Coin: 20p 1982 4.9g 21mm n/a No 2

t38 1 1 Coin: 5p 1990 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

t39 1 1 Coin: 1p 1991 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

t40 1 1 Coin: £1 1983 9.4g 22mm n/a No 2

t41 1 1 Coin: 20p 1982 4.9g 21mm n/a No 2


t43 1 1 Coin: 1p 1988 3.6g 20mm n/a No 2

t44 1 1 Coin: 5p 2002 3.3g 18mm n/a No 3

t45 1 1 Coin: 5p 1990 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

t46 5 9 Coin: 2p in wood Unknown 11.5g 26mm 64mm Yes - edge 2

t47 5 9

Coin: Pre-dec. 1p

in wood 1922 21.7g Unknown 76mm Yes - edge 2


t49 4 3 Coin: 2p 2002 7.2g 26mm n/a No 3

t50 4 3 Coin: 10p 1992 6.5g 24mm n/a No 2

t51 4 3 Coin: 2p 2000 7.0g 26mm n/a No 3

t52 4 3 Coin: 10p 1992 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2

t53 4 3 Coin: 2p 1971 7.1g 26mm n/a No 2

t54 4 3 Coin: 2p 1998 7.1g 26mm n/a No 3




t58 4 3 Coin: 2p 2003 7.0g 26mm n/a No 3

t59 4 3 Coin: 2p 2000 7.1g 26mm n/a No 3

t60 4 3 Coin: 10p 1992 6.2g 24mm n/a No 2


t62 4 3 Coin: 10p 2001 6.3g 24mm n/a No 2

t63 4 3 Coin: 10p 2000 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2


t65 4 3 Coin: 1p 2001 3.5g 20mm n/a No 4

t66 4 3 Coin: 1p 2001 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3

t67 4 3 Coin: 1p 1996 3.6g 20mm n/a No 2

t68 4 3 Coin: 1p 1979 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

t69 4 3 Coin: 1p 1999 3.4g 20mm n/a No 3

t70 4 3 Coin: 1p 198- 3.4g 20mm n/a Yes - edge 2



t73 4 3 Coin: 1p 2003 3.2g 20mm n/a No 4

t74 4 3 Coin: 1p 1998 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3

t75 4 3 Coin: 5p 2000 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

t76 4 3 Coin: 1 US Cent 1986 2.5g 19mm n/a No 3


t78 4 3 Coin: 20p 1989 4.9g 21mm n/a No 2

t79 2 2 Coin: 10p 1996 6.5g 24mm n/a No 2

794

t80 2 2 Coin: 2p 2000 6.9g 26mm n/a No 3


t82 2 2 Coin: 2p 1981 7.1g 26mm n/a No 2

t83 2 2 Coin: 2p 2000 6.8g 26mm n/a No 3

t84 2 2 Coin: 10p 1992 6.5g 24mm n/a No 2

t85 2 2 Coin: 2p 2001 6.9g 26mm n/a No 3

t86 2 2 Coin: 1p 1996 3.6g 20mm n/a No 3

t87 2 2 Coin: 1p 2000 3.4g 20mm n/a No 3

t88 2 2 Coin: 20p 1983 5.0g 21mm n/a No 2

t89 2 2 Coin: 1p 1994 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3

t90 2 2 Coin: 1p 2004 3.3g 20mm n/a No 3

t91 2 2 Coin: 1p 1986 3.4g 20mm n/a No 2



t94 2 2 Coin: 1p 2005 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3


t96 2 2 Coin: 5p 2001 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

t97 2 2 Coin: 5p 2001 3.2g 18mm n/a No 3

t98 2 2 Coin: 1p 2002 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3

t99 3 15 Coin: Pre-dec. 1p 1936 9.1g 31mm

n/a Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

t100 3 15 Coin: 2p 1971 6.9g 26mm

n/a Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

t101 3 15 Coin: 2p 1997 7.1g 26mm n/a No 4

t102 3 15 Coin: 2p 1997 6.9g 26mm n/a No 3

t103 3 15 Coin: 2p 1993 6.9g 26mm n/a No 4

t104 3 15 Coin: 10p 1996 6.5g 24mm n/a No 2

t105 3 15 Coin: 1p 2005 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3


t107 3 15 Coin: 1p 200- 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3



t110 3 15 Coin: 1p 2004 3.7g 20mm n/a No 4

t111 3 15 Coin: 1p 1990 3.4g 20mm

n/a Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

t112 3 15 Coin: 5p 1997 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2


t114 3 15 Coin: 2p in wood Unknown 28.6g 26mm 90mm

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

t115 3 15 Coin: 2p 1991 6.4g 26mm n/a No 3


t117 3 15 Coin: 20p 1982 4.8g 21mm n/a No 2


795

t119 5 9 Coin: 2p 1999 6.7g 26mm n/a No 3

t120 5 9 Coin: 2p 200- 6.9g 26mm n/a No 3

t121 5 9 Coin: 2p 1987 7.2g 26mm n/a No 2


t123 5 9 Coin: 2p 1975 7.0g 26mm n/a No 2

t124 5 9 Coin: 2p 1981 7.0g 26mm n/a No 2

t125 5 9 Coin: 2p 2004 7.1g 26mm n/a No 3

t126 5 9 Coin: 2p 1996 7.0g 26mm n/a No 3

t127 5 9 Coin: 2p 2006 7.0g 26mm n/a No 3

t128 5 9 Coin: 2p 2001 7.2g 26mm n/a No 4

t129 5 9 Coin: 2p 1994 6.8g 26mm n/a No 3

t130 5 9 Coin: 2p 1971 6.9g 26mm n/a No 2

t131 5 9 Coin: 2p 1971 7.`1g 26mm n/a Yes - edge 2

t132 5 9 Coin: 2p 2004 7.1g 26mm n/a No 3

t133 5 9 Coin: 2p 1976 7.0g 26mm n/a No 2

t134 5 9 Coin: 2p 1978 7.0g 26mm n/a No 1

t135 5 9 Coin: 2p 1987 7.1g 26mm n/a No 2

t136 5 9 Coin: 2p 2002 7.0g 26mm n/a No 3

t137 5 9 Coin: 2p 1971 6.9g 26mm n/a No 2

t138 5 9 Coin: 2p 1980 7.1g 26mm n/a No 2

t139 5 9 Coin: 1p 1990 3.4g 20mm n/a No 2

t140 5 9 Coin: 1p 1990 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

t141 5 9 Coin: 1p 2000 3.3g 20mm n/a No 3



t144 5 9 Coin: 1p 1998 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3

t145 5 9 Coin: 1p 1996 3.4g 20mm n/a No 3

t146 5 9 Coin: 1p 2005 3.4g 20mm n/a No 3

t147 5 9 Coin: 1p 2002 3.6g 20mm n/a No 3


t149 5 9 Coin: 1p 2005 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3

t150 5 9 Coin: 1p 1988 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2


t152 5 9 Coin: 1p 1990 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2


t154 5 9 Coin: 1p 1980 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

t155 5 9 Coin: 1p 1980 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

t156 5 9 Coin: 1p 2000 3.5g 20mm n/a No 3

t157 5 9 Coin: 5p 2004 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

t158 5 9 Coin: 20p 2003 4.9g 21mm n/a No 3

t159 5 9 Coin: 10p 2006 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2

t160 5 9 Coin: 10p 2001 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2

t161 5 9 Coin: 10p 1992 6.4g 24mm n/a No 3

t162 5 9 Coin: 10p 1992 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2

796

t163 5 9 Coin: 10p 1992 6.4g 24mm n/a No 2


t165 5 9 Coin: 2 Euro cent Unknown 3.0g 19mm n/a No 3

t166 5 9

Coin: 1 Canadian

cent 2002 2.1g 19mm

n/a

No 3

t167 5 9 Coin: 5p 1992 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

t168 5 9 Coin: 5p 1990 3.1g 18mm n/a No 2

t169 5 9 Coin: 5p 1992 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

t170 3 15 Coin: 2p 1971 7.0g 26mm

n/a Yes -

crooked and

edge 2


t172 3 15 Coin: 2p 1971 7.4g 26mm n/a No 3



t175 3 15 Coin: 1p 2002 3.6g 20mm n/a No 3



t178 3 15 Coin: 1p 1989 3.3g 20mm n/a No 2

t179 3 15 Coin: 1p 2003 3.4g 20mm n/a No 3


t181 3 15 Coin: 5p 1991 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

t182 3 15 Coin: 5p in wood 1971 7.3g 18mm 79mm

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2


t184 3 15 Coin: 1p 1995 3.2g 20mm n/a No 4

t185 3 15 Coin: 1p 1971 3.5g 20mm

n/a Yes -

crooked and

edge 2


t187 3 15

Coin: Pre-dec. 1p

in wood Pre-1971 12.7g 31mm 53mm

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2


t189 3 15 Coin: Halfpenny Unknown 1.6g 17mm

n/a Yes -

crooked 2

t190 3 15 Coin: 2p 1971 6.9g 26mm

n/a Yes -

crooked and

edge 2



t193 3 15 Coin: 1p 1989 3.4g 20mm

n/a Yes -

crooked and

edge 2



t196 3 15 Coin: 1p 1999 3.5g 20mm n/a No 4

t197 3 15 Coin: 1p in wood Unknown 5.7g 20mm 40mm

Yes -

crooked and 2

797

edge

t198 3 15 Coin: 5p 1990 3.1g 18mm n/a No 2

t199 3 15 Coin: 5p 1997 3.1g 18mm n/a No 2

t200 3 15 Coin: 5p 2002 3.2g 18mm n/a No 2

t201 3 15 Coin: 20p 1983 5.0g 21mm n/a No 2

t202 3 15

Coin: Halfpenny


Yes -

crooked 2


t204 3 15 Coin: 2p 1981 7.1g 26mm

n/a Yes -

crooked and

edge 2


t206 3 15 Coin: 2p in wood 1980 11.6g 26mm 48mm

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2


t208 3 15 Coin: 1p in wood 1976 22.0g 20mm 112mm Yes - edge 2

t209 3 15

Coin: Pre-dec 1p

in wood 1938 14.9g 30mm 46mm

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

t210 3 15

Coin: Unknown

coin in wood Unknown 19.0g

Unknown

-

engulfed

in wood 60mm

Yes -

crooked 2

t211 3 15

Coin: Pre-dec. 1p

in wood 1964 13.1g 30mm 47mm

Yes -

crooked and

edge 2



t214 3 15 Coin: 10p 2000 6.2g 24mm n/a No 2



t217 3 15 Coin: 2p 1999 7.1g 26mm n/a No 4

t218 3 15 Coin: 2p 1993 6.7g 26mm n/a No 3

t219 3 15 Coin: 1p 1973 3.5g 20mm n/a No 2

t220 3 15 Coin: 1p 1971 3.4g 20mm

n/a Yes -

crooked and

edge 2

t221 3 15 Coin: 1p Unknown 3.5g 20mm n/a Yes - edge 3

t222 4 3 Piece of string Unknown 0.1g

Length:

250mm

with one

knot

making it

circular n/a na Na

t223 6 4 Black bootlace Unknown 3.0g

Length:

395mm

with one

knot n/a na Na

t224 2 2 Seashell Unknown 3.1g

28mm x

21mm n/a na Na

798

5.15 – Unstratified Finds

S.

F.

No

.

Des

crip

tio

n

Yea

r o

f Is

sue

Wei

gh

t

Dia

met

er

Len

gth

of

wo

od

Sig

ns

of

Per

cuss

ion

Lev

el o

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Co

rro

sio

n

u1 Coin:

Pre-dec

1p

1963 8.4g 30mm n/a Yes -

edge

2

u2 Coin:

2p

1989 7.2g 26mm n/a No 2

799

APPENDIX 6 – ‘SANCTIFYING OUR SITES’ BLOG ENTRY

Houlbrook, C. 2013. Sanctifying Our Sites: Self-reflection on an archaeological

dig. Then Dig: Zeitgeist. http://arf.berkeley.edu/then-dig/

If I had to propose a title for my line of research – and the label-loving realm of

academia suggests that I do – then I would declare myself a folklore archaeologist.

Basically, I employ archaeological methodologies in my study of folkloric objects

and structures.

But these archaeological methodologies rarely include excavation, and so, even

though I’ve been dipping my toe into non-research-related digs over the years, I’m

really – in the literal and metaphorical sense of the term – an archaeologist without a

trowel. However, in September 2013, I had my first opportunity to get my hands

dirty in a dig that was relevant to my research.

For my thesis, I’ve been studying British coin-trees, which are exactly what they

sound like: trees which have had coins embedded into their barks for various

folkloric purposes, such as luck or wish-fulfilment. I’ve catalogued over 200 of these

trees, ranging in date from the late 18th century to the present day.

There was one particular coin-tree which took my interest; a dead hawthorn in

Argyll, Scotland, which I was having difficulty dating. One source claimed that it

was ‘centuries’ old, whilst the landowner opined that the custom had begun in the

1920s. The coins embedded into the tree, however, all post-dated the 1950s. And so

when the evidence on the ground doesn’t proffer the information you need, what do

archaeologists do? We dig.

I’m not writing this post to discuss the results of this excavation, which will be

published elsewhere (although for the sake of the curious reader, I’ll briefly remark

that the landowner’s estimation of the 1920s doesn’t appear to have been far off the

mark). Instead, what I’m aiming to discuss are the processes of an excavation from

the perspective of someone who’s new to those processes. Because, even though I’d

been to this coin-tree site before, it suddenly felt very different – because this time I

wasn’t there as a folklorist, but as an archaeologist.

There’s something about designating a place an ‘archaeological excavation site’ that

gives it more prestige – even, to a certain extent, a sense of sanctity. The ranging

rods, surveying equipment, array of buckets, shovels, trowels, and measuring tapes,

all contribute to this shift, as if they imbue it with greater importance. They are

props, removing it from the surrounding landscape, marking it out as something

‘special’. Archaeologists are often accused of desecration; in the hackneyed words of

Mortimer Wheeler, ‘Archaeology is destruction’ (1954: 15). However, I would argue

that we do the opposite. We don’t desecrate; we consecrate.

Although I’m always careful around coin-trees, I’ve never felt the same excessive

anxiety as I did on this excavation. I was suddenly incredibly cautious about how I

physically engaged with the site; I was reluctant to touch the tree, and whenever I

http://arf.berkeley.edu/then-dig/

800

moved around in its vicinity, I did so gingerly, as if so much as breathing on the

coin-tree would bring the whole thing crashing down. It was a strange transition from

my last visit, when I’d viewed the coin-tree as a natural part of the landscape rather

than as a fragile monument, and it really struck me that archaeology doesn’t just

explore sites; it alters them.

And we alter ourselves to accommodate them.

From what I’ve observed, people don’t revere these coin-trees. They don’t perceive

them as solemn or consecrated, but as interesting features that they can touch, climb

over/under, sit on, and hammer their own coins into. They don’t worry about the

fragility of these structures; to them, it’s inevitable that the coin-trees will eventually

fragment and decay. And so there’s nothing conservative about the ways in which

members of the public interact with these monuments.

But as archaeologists, we don’t class ourselves as ‘members of the public’. To an

extent, we don’t class ourselves as ‘people’. We’re like time-travellers; we’re scared

to interfere lest we alter something that shouldn’t be altered, and so we remove

ourselves from time and place. We treat our sites as sacred; we handle our finds not

as if they were objects meant to be handled, but as artefacts, fragile and enshrined.

Now I’m not suggesting that all archaeologists everywhere change their approach.

There’s a reason we act the way we do. But what I am suggesting is that in some

cases perhaps, in order to gain both a fuller and deeper understanding of a site, we

should allow ourselves to engage with places and structures the way everyone else

does. To experience them as people rather than just as archaeologists.

PEER RESPONSES:

Sara Gonzalez, Assistant Professor, University of Washington

Much like Ceri describes, I too approach the practice of archaeology with a sense of

reverence. I understand the sites where I work as belonging to a living heritage; their

spaces and materials as deserving of proper treatment and care. Care here refers to

the attitudes and practices one observes while working with cultural heritage.

Yet, this perspective is not so much an artifact of my training, as it is the result of my

experiences working with Indigenous communities in California and the Pacific

Northwest. In these contexts the science and trappings of archaeology neither

consecrate nor make an ancestral place sacred. In fact, archaeology can, and often

has, achieved quite the opposite effect (Deloria 1969; Mihesuah 2000; Trigger 1980).

This colonial legacy has led many within the field to re-configure the practice of

archaeology so that it is informed by both archaeological and Indigenous values and

principles.

Let me illustrate using an example of my work with the Kashia Band of Pomo

Indians at Fort Ross State Historic Park in northern California where I am working

with the tribe and the California Department of Parks and Recreation to develop a

cultural heritage trail. Given Kashia concerns over the practice of archaeology on

https://washington.academia.edu/SaraGonzalez

801

ancestral sites, the project worked with the community to develop a research

methodology that integrates Kashia worldviews into the management and

representation of their ancestral homeland, Metini (Gonzalez 2011).

The disturbance of sacred sites with profane acts—which is how the Kashia define

archaeological practice—is potentially spiritually dangerous. Hence, despite a long

history of collaboration with anthropologists in the early 20th century, the tribe

refused to participate in archaeological research until it was reframed as a ceremonial

undertaking (Dowdall and Parrish 2003). This reframing was achieved through

observance of Kashaya cultural laws in our daily practices wherein we regarded

Kashia ancestral sites as part of a sacred, living landscape that requires sacrifice on

the part of individuals.

To borrow Ceri’s words, in altering ourselves to accommodate these places, we

mitigate the danger of archaeology and demonstrate our respect for both the tribal

community and their ancestors. This was the primary way we moved away from

creating knowledge about the Kashaya to creating knowledge with them (Tamisari

2006:24). The distinction here is forming reciprocal, non-hierarchical relationships

that respect the individual contributions of collaborators. In this way we came to

view the knowledge we create as the result of social relationships that proceed from a

place of mutual respect, honesty, integrity, and trust. This, in turn, fostered an

openness of communication so that tribal elders, scholars, and community members

could remember and share histories of Fort Ross and Metini, thus contributing to the

development of interpretation for the cultural heritage trail.

We each have our own way of relating to our work and to the places we find

ourselves in. But I would urge archaeologists, as Ceri does, to explore how local

communities engage with their cultural landscapes, as this knowledge broadens our

imagination and approach to the places and spaces of our work.

References

Deloria, Vine 1969 Custer Died for your Sins: An Indian Manifesto. Macmillan,

New York.

Dowdall, K. M. and O. O. Parrish 2003 A Meaningful Disturbance of the Earth.

Journal of Social Archaeology 3:99-133.

Gonzalez, S. 2011 Creating Trails from Traditions: The Kashaya Pomo Interpretive

Trail at Fort Ross State Historic Park. Ph.D. Dissertation, Dept. of Anthropology,

University of California, Berkeley, Berkeley.

Mihesuah, D. A. (editor) 2000 Repatriation Reader: Who Owns American Indian

Remains? University of Nebraska Press, Lincoln.

Tamisari, F. 2006 “Personal Acquaintance”: Essential Individuality and the

Possibilities of Encounters. In Provoking Ideas: Critical Indigenous Studies, edited

by T. Lea, E. Kowal and G. Cowlishaw, pp. 17-36. Darwin University Press, Darwin.

802

Trigger, B. G. 1980 Archaeology and the Image of the American Indian. American

Antiquity 45:662- 76.

Matt Law, Faculty Member at Bath Spa University

The Monstrous Antiquities conference at UCL next month will explore how

archaeology has provided food for tales of the supernatural. Ceri’s work highlights

another interesting aspect of archaeology and the supernatural, namely how

archaeology can contribute to understanding how folkloric practices originate and

persist. As a newcomer to archaeological fieldwork, she also provides some

important insights into what archaeological investigations can mean.

The idea of consecrating places through designating them as archaeological sites is

especially interesting, and feeds the idea of archaeology as social or political action.

As Don Henson (2009, 117) has noted, archaeology is ‘inherently elitist’, as

archaeologists seek to maintain their position as the experts, and it has a tendency to

become ‘a self-selecting clique, defined by references to itself and reinforced through

adopting particular methods of communication and practice’ (Henson 2009, 121).

But this idea of sanctifying sites shows that archaeology –especially when it is

conducted with people outside of the discipline – has the power to instil broader

value on places that may be of immense social importance, but overlooked because

of the transient or marginalised nature of the groups to whom they are important (e.g

sites used by the homeless or vulnerably housed (Kiddey and Schofield 2011); or

those related to clandestine crossings on the US-Mexico border (De León 2012).

Folklore and superstition are prone to being overlooked in modern Britain.

The objective nature of the archaeological process is rightly identified here. Often,

this is a way of attempting to ensure scientific objectivity, much more rarely a coping

strategy when faced with particularly harrowing finds. My own experience is that

archaeologists’ emotional engagement with their sites is seldom as dispassionate as

the language of the reports they later produce would suggest. Of course, many do

explicitly discuss experiential aspects of the site, especially from the perspective of

the population being studied (this can even be attempted from analysis of snail shells

from the site (see Evans 2005), and both objective and subjective approaches to

archaeology should be (and often are!) seen as complementary, although care should

always be taken not to privilege the excavator’s worldview, which may not reveal

much about life in the past.

References

De León, J., 2012. “Better to be hot than caught”. Excavating the conflicting roles of

migrant material culture. American Anthropologist, 114 (3), pp. 477-495.

Evans, J.G., 2005. The snails, in D. Benson & A. Whittle (eds.) Building Memories:

the Neolithic Cotswold long barrow at Ascott-under-Wychwood, Oxfordshire.

Oxford: Oxbow. pp. 55-70.

https://bathspa.academia.edu/MattLaw

803

Henson, D., 2009. What on earth is archaeology? In E. Waterton & L. Smith (eds.)

Taking archaeology out of heritage (Newcastle, UK: Cambridge Scholars

Publishing) pp. 117-135.

Kiddey, R., and Schofield, J., 2011. Embrace the margins: adventures in archaeology

and homelessness. Public Archaeology, 10 (1), pp. 4-22.

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