‘Dad had a gun under his pillow’: The story of how the largest collection of medieval coins was found

More than half a century ago, a routine construction task on a Nottinghamshire site took an unexpected turn. Workers digging for a cul-de-sac in central Nottinghamshire uncovered a trove of gold, sparking a chain of events that would intertwine local excitement, police scrutiny, and a mysterious figure in London’s coin trade.

A Serendipitous Discovery

On 22 March 1966, as builders and machine operators prepared to wrap up their day, a curious five-year-old boy named David Welham watched the activity from nearby. His presence proved pivotal when a digger’s bucket unearthed a torrent of medieval coins. Pete Hawkins, then 17, was on-site with the son of foreman Jim Flint. Hawkins recalled: “Someone ran over and said, ‘We’ve found something, you’ve got to help!’” The group initially gathered coins, but one worker secretly pocketed some, setting off a frenzy of claims and hidden treasures.

Unraveling the Mystery

The haul, later confirmed to include over 1,200 gold coins and nine jewels, became the UK’s most significant medieval gold find. However, the excitement soon turned to controversy. When Flint and others returned home with their share, the coins’ weight nearly crippled Flint’s mobility. His son Mark Wilson remembered: “He brought the case home, and I played with the coins, thinking they were toys. He slept with his wartime revolver under his pillow, and the gold was taken to London for experts to verify.”

By the time the hoard was examined, the police had already intervened. Local officer PC Howard Taylor was suspended as suspicions grew that not all coins were accounted for. A detective, William Wilson, was assigned to handle the case, showcasing a more aggressive approach than typical bobbies. The situation escalated further when a man using the alias Hewlitt Cosgrove Thompson visited a London coin dealer three times, offloading around 50 coins for over £23,000. This raised questions about the hoard’s full recovery.

A Tale of Two Thefts

Adding to the intrigue, the Jules Rimet Trophy—a football World Cup prize—had vanished from London just two days prior. This event, reported in the Nottingham Post, prompted authorities to take extra precautions. A police spokesperson noted: “We cannot reveal when or how the coins were transferred due to the security risk. The World Cup theft made us cautious. The hoard’s minimum value is £30,000, and we’re eager to resolve it.”

As the story unfolded, the hoard’s discovery became a symbol of both local pride and the complexities of treasure hunting. The plaque commemorating the find, now installed near the original site, marks a moment that bridged history and modern mystery.