When London's Past Yields Gold

# The Seven Dials Secret: When London's Past Yields Gold

*By Marcus Blackwood*

Brad Sayers never meant to become a social media sensation. The quiet researcher of ephemera from Bristol would much rather spend his days poring over centuries-old maps than doing TikTok interviews. But when you discover sixteen tonnes of gold bars beneath one of London's most famous intersections, the internet tends to take notice.

"It wasn't luck," Brad insists during our meeting at an unremarkable café near Covent Garden. "It was research, patience, and following The Code." He says this last bit with particular emphasis, and I understand why. The Code – that mysterious agreement between modern treasure hunters who call themselves Questors – has become something of an urban legend itself.

The story of Brad's discovery begins with Thomas Neale, the 17th-century architect and entrepreneur who designed Seven Dials. Most Londoners know Seven Dials as a busy junction where seven streets converge around a central sundial pillar. What they don't know is that Neale, a master of baroque urban planning and financial intrigue, left behind more than just innovative street layouts.

"Neale was brilliant but paranoid," Brad explains, warming to his subject. "He made his fortune through various ventures, including running the North American postal system and establishing the first National Lottery. But he was convinced economic collapse was coming. The evidence suggested he'd created a personal insurance policy."

That "insurance policy" turned out to be a sophisticated vault system beneath the junction, discovered during Brad's carefully planned excavation last spring. The actual recovery operation remains off-limits for discussion – part of The Code that Brad and his fellow Questors live by. What we do know comes from the brief video that went viral: Brad,stumbling out from below ground, clutching a gold bar, that shone despite the accumulated filth of the tunnels below the Dials.

The clip has been viewed millions of times, spawning countless theories about other possible treasures beneath London's streets. But Brad has withdrawn from the spotlight, returning to what he calls "the real work."

"The media attention was... uncomfortable," he admits, stirring his tea. "They wanted to know about other investigations, about The Code, about my fellow Questors. But that's not how we operate. Success in this field isn't about individual glory – it's about preserving history and working together."

The Code, as far as anyone outside the circle of Questors knows, emerged about fifteen years ago. It's a set of principles that govern how these modern treasure hunters cooperate rather than compete. They share information, pool resources, and most importantly, respect each other's ongoing investigations.

"Think about the damage that could be done if everyone knew what we were researching," Brad explains. "Sites would be vandalized, history would be lost, and the real stories would never be uncovered. The Code prevents that."

What Brad can share about his discovery is fascinating enough. The gold bars, now believed to be in the British Museum's possession, bear unique markings that suggest they were cast in the 1680s. Their placement beneath Seven Dials wasn't random – the vault's location corresponds to complex mathematical calculations hidden within Neale's original street plans.

"Neale was a genius with urban design," Brad says. "He didn't just create a street layout – he created a puzzle that took over 300 years to solve. The angles of the streets, the position of the sundial, even the dimensions of the original buildings – they're all part of a complex code."

When I ask about his next project, Brad smiles but shakes his head. "Active investigations are sacred among Questors. But I will say this: London has barely begun to reveal its secrets."

As our meeting ends, Brad's phone buzzes with what he calls "a Questor alert." He glances at it, his eyes lighting up with that particular gleam that all treasure hunters seem to share. "Sorry," he says, gathering his things, "but duty calls. There's another mystery that needs solving."

Before he leaves, I ask one final question: how many Questors are there? Brad pauses at the door. "Enough to keep history's secrets safe," he says with a enigmatic smile. "And enough to keep finding them."

*Marcus Blackwood covers urban archaeology and historical mysteries for The Questor. His new podcast "London Uncovered" launches next month.*

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*Editor's Note: The excavation described in this article was conducted with full permission from Historic England and the Greater London Authority. All artifacts were properly documented and registered with relevant authorities.*

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