December 2008

This is the story of local power and Roman silver in one particular field, at Birnie, to the south of Elgin – a field which contained hidden treasure, a long-lost settlement, tales of past intrigue, and new light on the impact of the Roman empire on these northern lands.
The story starts in 1996, with the discovery of some Roman silver coins (denarii) by local metal-detectorist Hamish Stuart. He reported these to National Museums Scotland, where coin expert Nick Holmes identified them as a scattered hoard. The latest coins dated to the late 2nd century ad – when Roman occupation stopped at Hadrian’s Wall, far to the south. What were coins doing here, so far from the edge of the Roman world?
We knew from aerial photographs that an Iron Age settlement lay in the field. Here was the chance to study the links between Roman coins and a local settlement site, and explore Roman connections to the area. It was too good a chance to miss. In 1998 we put the first spade into the site – and the results have been so exciting that we’re still digging…
A scatter of flints and pottery tells of some activity in early prehistory, but the story really starts in the late Bronze Age, about 3,000 years ago (1,000-800 bc). This is probably when the first houses were built – and already Birnie was a place of importance.
On the edge of the settlement, an exploratory trench hit a cluster of pits and some unusual finds – fragments of fired clay moulds and crucibles. This had been a bronze-casting workshop. At this time, bronze was a restricted metal, and only important people had access to it.
The ability to make bronze objects was even more rare; only a handful of sites across Scotland have produced evidence. At Birnie, a bronze-smith made axes, swords, bangles and pins – the power-tools of the period, used to show off.
Birnie was a good place for settlement, on well-drained light soils, sheltered by a hill and with a nearby river for water and other resources. For over a thousand years during the Iron Age (c.800bc – 200ad) people farmed this land. They lived in round houses made from local materials – turf, timber and thatch. These were no small huts, but big, impressive constructions.
The largest ones were 20 yards across, bigger than most modern bungalows, with space inside for animals and room for an upper floor. They would have housed an extended family, perhaps as many as 20 people. Around the houses were other traces of farming life – enclosures for cattle and sheep, fences, four-post granaries. But there was no sign of defences – it seems these people had nothing to fear.
One house had burnt down, leaving behind a treasure-chest of information. The charring preserved remains of the superstructure which never normally survive – burnt rafters and remains of a turf roof, planking from an upper floor and, from microscopic traces in samples, remains of rushes from the floor. Even carbonised mouse droppings survived! It gives a tremendously vivid picture of this long-vanished building.
The finds breathe further life into this picture. They tell us of daily life – the everyday tools of iron and stone, pottery for cooking, serving and storage, quernstones to grind flour for the daily bread. But they also show that this settlement was out of the ordinary. It was a centre of craft and industry, with iron-smelting, blacksmithing, and bronze-casting too – now for jewellery and other fancy fittings.
The inhabitants were well-connected, with links across the Moray Firth to groups in Sutherland who supplied them with black jewellery of Brora oil shale. They also had links to the south, seen in finds of chariot fittings and horse harness. Only powerful people had such connections – the chariot was the equivalent of a Ferrari at the time.
We get a vivid picture of a long-lived and successful farm, its inhabitants wealthy, well-connected and powerful. And this wealth and power attracted the attention of the Romans.
The North-East had a long history of intermittent involvement with Rome. The legions campaigned in Moray in the late 1st century ad under the general Agricola, but did not stay. They may have returned in the early third century, when the emperor Severus led a punitive expedition into the north. But Rome’s interests did not stop at the borders of its empire – this was simply a line on the map.
All round their world, the Romans dealt with and interfered with their neighbours, sometimes hundreds of miles beyond the frontier. Northern Scotland was no exception. The Romans kept an eye on the area, as such rich agricultural land could support troublesome warbands. Roman diplomats must have identified Birnie as a powerful place, and came to deal with the people there.
The marks of this diplomacy remain in the soil for us to find – a rich range of Roman brooches, glass, pottery, and a beautiful enamelled bird mount. These would have been valuable gifts to the status-conscious people of Birnie. To them, Rome was not just a threat, but an opportunity – their privileged connections to Rome made them stand out in local society. These connections started in the later 1st century ad, and continued intermittently for over a century. And it was these connections which brought silver coins to the site.
The first coins were widely scattered but, working with the local detectorist, we were able to pinpoint a hotspot. We carefully excavated this area, gradually stripping the soil away, metal-detecting as we went – until, at the base of the ploughsoil, we came upon the remains of the Roman hoard, still in the pot it had been buried in 1,800 years ago. The plough had clipped the top of it, dragging some coins up into the soil, but the bulk was undisturbed. We had struck silver.
This was an exciting moment – unlike Indiana Jones, real archaeologists almost never find treasure. The hoard was carefully lifted in a block of soil and taken to the museum’s conservation labs. Yet the story got even more intriguing. The following season, barely ten metres from the first hoard, we came across another. This one was completely intact, and amazingly well-preserved – even the two leather pouches which held the coins still survived.
Study of the coins by Nick Holmes showed that the two hoards were very similar. Both contained just over 300 coins. One is a few years later than the other – the latest coin from one dates to 193ad, the other to 196ad. This suggest the Romans gave a series of gifts or subsidies to the people at Birnie every year or two. This was bribery, pure and simple – paying off powerful people to keep the peace, and perhaps hoping to create jealousies and tensions within local society. This was a time of turmoil on the northern frontier, and the Romans used diplomacy as well as military might to deal with the problems.
It might seem strange to give gifts of coins – there was nothing to spend them on. But this rare and exotic material was valued as a status good. So why were the hoards buried?
Excavations have shown that they were not simply hidden to keep them safe. They come from an open area in the heart of the settlement where there is a series of unusual finds in pits – complete and smashed pots, intact querns buried upside down, and so on. These are probably offerings – sacrifices to the gods, designed to offer thanks or ask for help. Valuable objects such as coins often ended their lives as sacrifices – such rare and powerful objects were apparently much in demand by the gods.
Soon after the Roman episode, it seems the settlement came to an end. The 3rd and 4th centuries ad were a time of turmoil in the area, with settlements being abandoned. Out of this emerged a new political group – the Picts. These were not a new people, but a new political structure. The old order, tolerant of Rome, had gone, usurped by new forces within society who were much more antagonistic towards the Romans.
We are still trying to find out what happened at Birnie. Gradually we are teasing out evidence of Pictish settlement – their buildings are much harder to find, but there is activity in the 7th and 8th centuries. However, this is long after the roundhouses – what happened in these missing centuries is still a mystery.
While Birnie has exciting tales to tell, it is an unfinished story. There are two seasons of excavations to go, so who knows what surprises await under the earth, or from the painstaking analysis of all the data which will follow. Yet already we can see a vivid picture of life in later prehistory – a long-lived farm, a local power centre, and a place which drew the gaze of the Roman world. Under the swaying ears of barley, a remarkable tale is emerging.
Excavations are funded by the National Museums Scotland and Historic Scotland, with additional support from Ian Keillar, the Moray Field Club, the Moray Society, RAF Lossiemouth, RCAHMS and Cardiff University. I am very grateful to the farmer, William Mustard, and his family for their tremendous support, to Hamish Stuart for his continuing assistance, the late Barri Jones for his invaluable aerial survey work, and to a small army of diggers, both local and far-flung, who toil (relatively) uncomplainingly to reveal Birnie’s secrets.
Dr Fraser Hunter is Iron Age and Roman Curator at National Museums Scotland. He has a long-standing interest in the effect of the Roman world on the people beyond its frontiers.
This is an article from the December 2008 edition of Leopard Magazine. To read much more like this every month, see our subscription details.