thinking about archaeology

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Brian Cox, master of the universe

Well, at least of the wonders of the universe aphorism. In that regard he’s truly up there with Carl Sagan. And having criticised him for an archaeological presentation, I was delighted to see him at his best on Easter Island.

From Human Universe 3: Are We Alone (photo BBC/Paul O’Callaghan)

From Human Universe 3: Are We Alone (photo BBC/Paul O’Callaghan)

I wrote earlier about a sequence in the first of the BBC’s Human Universe films. Cox talked about modern human origins, and a – plausible – link with climate changes. I complained about how, I thought, a complex story was simplified to the point of being misleading (Henry Gee, a senior Nature editor who has handled many of the journal’s important science stories about human evolution, really didn’t like this bit). I ended my piece with a photo of Cox on Easter Island, with the caption, “Dare I watch?”

I did, and it was wonderful. The third programme began on the island, with some characteristically lovely film and snap-perfect editing. The narrative used the island – people so often use the island – to make a point about isolation.

Here on this remotest of inhabited places, where, as Thor Heyerdahl memorably put it, the closest visible land is the surface of the moon, people must have wondered if they were alone. Was there anyone else out there? When an European ship arrived in 1722 its crew would have appeared like aliens.

So we think of Earth, and Cox delivers this dazzling passage.

“Think about this. There are billions of habitable Earth-like worlds out there in the galaxy – and yet we are alone.

“Think about this. There are billions of habitable Earth-like worlds out there in the galaxy – and we are not alone. There are others.

“One of these statements is true.”

I suspect that future research may show that Easter Island was less isolated than we imagine – that other Polynesians were in touch across the ocean from the west, and quite possibly that Europeans stopped by before 1722. Archaeology can tackle such questions. But that doesn’t matter, as it doesn’t spoil Cox’s line. He caught our imaginations with words and a mesmerising location, without patronising or manipulating the story. And on Easter Island, that doesn’t happen often.

And just for fun, here’s a screen grab from the film, with my photo of Hoa Hakananai’a as it now looks in the British Museum; the red spot is about where it originally stood.

Rapa Nui and Hoa Hakananai'a

Reburying Richard

 

Richard III's last journey

The Leicester Cathedral Quarter Partnership Board has published a provisional timetable for the reburial of Richard III’s remains in March next year. Here is what it adds up to. We really haven’t seen anything like this before!

Sunday March 22 2015

[1] 12.00 Hearse departs from University of Leicester, to [2] Fenn Lane Farm (reputed site of Richard’s death)

Thence to churches at [3] Dadlington (where battle-dead are said to be buried) and [4] Sutton Cheney (where Richard is said to have taken Mass on the eve of Bosworth)

14.00 Short ceremony at [5] Bosworth Battlefield Heritage Centre led by the Bishop of Leicester, the Rt Revd Tim Stevens

Cortege returns to Leicester via [6] Market Bosworth, [7] Newbold Verdon and [8] Desford

16.00 Arrive in Leicester at [9] Bow Bridge, for greeting by City Mayor, Sir Peter Soulsby, and Lord Mayor, Councillor John Thomas

17.45 Journey to [10] Leicester Cathedral completed in horse-drawn hearse, to be met by Dean of Leicester, the Very Revd David Monteith. Archaeologist Richard Buckley hands a copy of the Ministry of Justice exhumation licence to the Dean, and responsibility for the King passes from the university to the church

18.00 The coffin is carried into the cathedral for evening worship (Compline), with a sermon from the Catholic Archbishop of Westminster, Cardinal Vincent Nichols.

Monday 23 to Wednesday 25

The mortal remains of King Richard III lie in repose in Leicester Cathedral. The public are invited to pray and pay their respects during daylight hours.

Monday 23

Cardinal Nichols celebrates Mass for the repose of the soul (a “Requiem Mass”) for Richard III in Holy Cross Church, the Catholic parish church and Dominican priory in Leicester city centre. The Choir from St Barnabas’ Cathedral, the Cathedral of the Diocese of Nottingham, will sing at this Mass, which will be open to the public.

Thursday 26

The mortal remains of Richard III are re-interred in Leicester Cathedral, in the presence of an invited congregation and the Most Rt Revd Justin Welby, Archbishop of Canterbury, senior clergy, other Christian denominations and representatives of the World Faiths.

Friday 27

People from across Leicester and the county of Leicestershire are invited to gather in the cathedral to see the tomb revealed and celebrate the future.

In and out of Leicester, passing significant places such as the Newarke, where Richard's body is said to have been laid out for two days before burial at Greyfriars

In and out of Leicester, passing significant places such as the Newarke, where Richard’s body is said to have been laid out for two days before burial at Greyfriars

Let’s trust the viewer’s intelligence

I’m delighted to see some big, thoughtful personalities arguing as I have done for more intelligent TV. In the past few days Hilary Mantel has complained about poor historical drama, and Sir David Attenborough about TV documentaries in general.

“It is perfectly possible to do good history and good drama,” says Mantel, “they are not mutually contradictory… as soon as you decide this is too complicated for the viewer or history is an inconvenient shape – ‘I’ll just tidy it up’ – you fall into a cascade of errors which ends in nonsense.”

Two or three episode documentaries, says Sir David, are not enough to “deal with something properly… I would like a stronger commitment and a belief in your subject… The general view is that viewers don’t like people coming along and saying they know more about it than you do, so it’s unfashionable.”

“It all stems”, says Mantel, “from not trusting the intelligence of the viewer.”

Photo BBC/Emile Fjola Sandy

Photo BBC/Emile Fjola Sandy

Indeed. So I turned with hope to a new series presented by Brian Cox, who delights brilliantly in trusting the viewer’s intelligence.

In Human Universe, part one, Apeman – Spaceman, Cox posed big questions. What makes us special? How did we become who we are?

“It’s a story that begins in Ethiopia,” he says, “where our story began.”

He meets a troop of gelada baboons. We were once like this, he seems to be saying. Now there is “a huge gulf” – “we have something extra”.

At this point there is a clever little sequence that mimics the moment in Kubrick’s 2001, when a mysterious force implants human thinking into African apes, and the shot jumps from the savannah millions of years ago to a spaceship in the future.

Back with Cox, we are fishing on lake Ziway. “Constructing complicated tools like boats, nets and spaceships is a skill unique to the human mind. And this ability is thought to have emerged for the very first time in the hills around the lake.”

Over a quarter of a million years ago, early humans were attracted by the lake, and by obsidian.

Yonatan Sahle, University of California, Berkeley shows Cox how to knap an obsidian flake. He makes a bifacial “spear point”, like those made there 250,000 years ago, “the oldest of their kind ever found”.

“I can see that this takes an intelligent animal”, says Cox. “It takes concentration and dedication, you need to know exactly what you’re doing, and you need to sit here and do it and have patience, and be able to visualise the shape.”

But that’s just the first stage: then you need to haft the point to a shaft. “You’ve got to imagine something that doesn’t exist”. You need lots of people, sharing ideas, passing things on over generations, improving the technology till it gets to this point. “That requires some means of communication, probably some primitive language.”

He holds up the ancient obsidian point. “This is the earliest physical evidence we have found of minds that think like ours.”

If this hadn’t happened, the universe might still be no more than “a collection of glowing balls of gas and some rocks”.

“But then, around 250,000 years ago, a clump of atoms became aware, looked at a rock, and saw a spear.”

This is the origin of “the transformation from apeman to spaceman”. We are 15 minutes into the first film.

Brian Cox is bright, scientifically informed and a great communicator – the last person you’d expect to patronise TV viewers. So, as I found with the BBC’s two films about Stonehenge, it seems here again a broadcaster thinks we’re stupid. For this view of human origins – beautifully shot and edited, and presented with emotive verve – simplifies beyond any sense. And that’s patronising.

We don’t understand why we are here – why human characteristics first appeared among great apes, why they stayed and why they developed in the way they did. But we have lots of evidence, and we have lots of ideas.

When Cox holds an obsidian spearhead, he describes it as something the pigeons outside my study did a few months ago when they built a nest. The birds “imagined something that didn’t exist”. They shared ideas, passed things on over generations, and improved the technology till it got to this point. But they do not have minds that think like ours.

This is not a human mind

This is not a human mind

As we currently see it, the moment when a hominin first did something that no other animal has done happened not 250,000, but two and a half million years ago. That was when the first stone tool was intelligently knapped.

That process requires a set of skills – the ability to visualise a complex sequence of three-dimensional events, and to exercise mechanical control guided by that intelligence – that has been seen nowhere else.

We have a continually growing respect for the intelligence of other creatures, not least birds and apes. But not even a chimpanzee has been seen to achieve what the least skilled early hominin stone-tool maker did.

You might argue with that, and say Cox was talking about complex, bifacial stone tools, and not simple Oldowan tools that need have no more than one flake removed from a lump of rock to make a sharp edge. The point would be valid: but we don’t see chimpanzees making Oldowan tools either. We see the first bifacial tools – archaeologists call them Acheulean – one and three quarter million years ago. Long ago, in Fairweather Eden, I compared this skill to playing chess, and language.

This is a human mind – Boxgrove, half a million years ago

This is a human mind – Boxgrove, half a million years ago

In evolutionary terms this happens very fast, but we didn’t suddenly appear from nowhere. Something happened when Homo habilis evolved and started bashing out stone tools. And whatever this something was, it continued to happen, as species evolved and brains got ever larger. Acheulean tools were made by Homo erectus and a variety of related species. Homo sapiens appears around 200,000 years ago. We can’t talk about “us” until then, at best. Yet the universe ceased to be no more than “a collection of glowing balls of gas and some rocks” long before that – at least two and a half million years ago.

It is a wonderful, challenging story. You cannot just ignore it if you want to answer, how did we become who we are?

Am I being picky, obsessing over something I happen to know a bit about but missing the wider perspective of those who know nothing? I don’t think so. And I don’t think Sir David Attenborough or Hilary Mantel think they are, either.

Human Universe, part three – dare I watch? Photo BBC/Paul O’Callaghan

Human Universe, part three – dare I watch? Photo BBC/Paul O’Callaghan

Operation Stonehenge: what the TV films left out

Oh dear, BBC2. If this had happened in a hospital, the patient would have died. There was some lovely film and it was all put together well, but the good looks concealed some very odd archaeology. Some of it was fine but not explained. Some of it was misleading. Much of it was wrong. That was bad enough, but what made it worse was that so much recent research was omitted. Indeed, beside the work of the Hidden Landscapes Project, of which more soon, ALL of the most important research was omitted.

Why? There can be only one answer. It suited the programming.

Avenue top end 2008

Avenue top end 2008 (these photos show Stonehenge Riverside Project sites, see below)

I have no behind the scenes insights, but somewhere along the route from idea to screening, someone must have said, this needs to be unlike all the other recent Stonehenge films; and it must say something new. Much of the major research has been covered in recent films, and all of it has featured in magazines and articles. So to be completely different, you leave all that out. But then you have to fill two hours of programming with other stuff.

Fortunately, the University of Birmingham and the Ludwig Boltzmann Institute for Archaeological Prospection & Virtual Archaeology were about to complete five years of a spectacular geophysics survey – the Hidden Landscapes Project. Much of this had been published, but it had not been seen in a TV film – and was presumably the cause of the subtitle, “What lies beneath”, as no excavation that had anything to do with Stonehenge was mentioned.

This was cutting edge geofizz, involving some pretty techy stuff. But it was for a BBC2 audience, who, on this evidence, the commissioners believed don’t like or understand science. So the opportunity to follow exciting developments in digital sensing technologies was missed. As was the chance to see a proper geofizz plot, or what any of the pieces of impressive kit paraded across the screen actually did, or anyone explain anything at all about geophysics.

So the question remained, how to fill two hours? Answer: drama, pretty shots, and anything we can find that hasn’t previously been roped into a film about Stonehenge.

Avenue bottom end 2008

Avenue bottom end 2008

The result was a ramshackle presentation, and doubly patronising. You might, I suppose, have just got away with omitting most of what we’ve learnt about Stonehenge in the past decade or so, if you said that was what you were doing, and explained why – two or three sentences would have sufficed. But the films didn’t do that. They gave the impression that they were rounding up all recent research. The films would, in the BBC’s words, answer questions such as “Why is [Stonehenge ] here? What is its significance? And which forces inspired its creators?”, thus “Solving many of the mysteries of Stonehenge.” You would reasonably expect anyone setting out to do all that would draw on all the evidence.

But they didn’t! And neither did they talk to any but a few of the dozens of archaeologists who have been working in the landscape and at the monument. How can you tell a sensible story about Stonehenge in 2014 without one of, to name only some, Allen, Darvill, Parker Pearson, Pollard, Richards, Thomas, Welham or Wainwright, without any English Heritage survey teams (landscapes and megaliths) or any petrologists (Bevins, Ixer)? You can’t!

Having decided the viewers didn’t need to know what’s been going on at Stonehenge unless it supported a contrived USP, the programme makers delivered their second insult: they didn’t explain anything useful about the work they DID feature. Indeed, they compounded the omission by throwing in a great deal of error and confusion.

I hope I’m being fair about this, but it makes me very cross. What is it about archaeology on TV that means it has to be served up like baby food? You wouldn’t see a film about Turner that treated his paintings like placemats, or a documentary about the solar system that thought gravity was a concept too sophisticated to mention. So why address people who might have an interest in Stonehenge as if they have an IQ of 30?

After that, I owe the programmers some evidence. A lot of questions were raised about these films on the Britarch discussion list, and I promised to try to answer some of them. So as best and as briefly as I can, here goes. First, to open positively, what we know (ie what the films left out).

“Stonehenge in its Landscape”

Colin Richards (centre) at the Cuckoo Stone 2007

Colin Richards (centre) at the Cuckoo Stone 2007

All modern understanding of Stonehenge begins with this book, published by English Heritage in 1995. It’s a monumental survey of the results of excavations at the site in the 20th century, most of which had not been published fully before, if at all. This is where we go when we want to learn details about stuff underground – all the Holes from Aubrey to Z, the stone pits, the earthworks, the artefacts and bones and more. The project included the first major radiocarbon dating of Stonehenge. The book does not say much about the landscapes around, very little about other monuments, and curiously almost nothing about the stones themselves. But fair enough – it’s already 640 pages long, which is a lot for an A4 format hardback with loose maps.

When I wrote Hengeworld, my aim was to present the story of Stonehenge as this book told it, to help the research reach a wider readership. I deliberately avoided going off with any major alternative theories. Hengeworld is a summary of the way we saw Stonehenge in 2000 (bolstered with some of the things I found out in the course of writing).

However, if you want to pursue original queries of your own, really you should also read the primary publications where they exist (listed in the long bibliographies in both books) and often unpublished archives, where much still remains to be learnt. This is what many of us have done as part of research since, and as a result things have moved on in many areas, not least in the site sequence.

Stonehenge in its Landscape: Twentieth-Century Excavations, ed R Cleal, KE Walker & R Montague (English Heritage 1995)

Site sequence

Paul Garwood at site near Palisade 2008

Paul Garwood at site near Palisade 2008

This has long been a focus of Stonehenge archaeology, sometimes obsessively so, with reason: unless we can say what was built when, we can’t tell the story of the site or possibly hope to understand it. There was not just one Stonehenge, but a long succession of events, structures and re-imaginations occurring across Europe-wide cultural changes. For most of the second half of the last century, the conventional story was the one told by Richard Atkinson. He constructed a series of phases on evidence from his excavations, and particularly from William Hawley’s before him, building on ideas set out by Hawley and Stuart Piggott. However, Atkinson never publicly presented most of this evidence, and when English Heritage published its fat book in 1995, few of us were surprised to find a new sequence that differed significantly from Atkinson’s. This has now changed again.

Woodhenge 2006

I have no doubt that further research is going to create yet more variations and corrections, but for now, this is what we work with. These are the key papers:

“The age of Stonehenge”, by M Parker Pearson, R Cleal, P Marshall, S Needham, J Pollard, C Richards, C Ruggles, A Sheridan, J Thomas, C Tilley, K Welham, A Chamberlain, C Chenery, J Evans, C Knüsel, N Linford, L Martin, J Montgomery, A Payne & Mike Richards, Antiquity 81 (2007), 617–39

“Who was buried at Stonehenge?”, by M Parker Pearson, A Chamberlain, M Jay, P Marshall, J Pollard, C Richards, J Thomas, C Tilley & K Welham, Antiquity 83 (2009), 23–39

“The date of the Greater Stonehenge Cursus”, by J Thomas, P Marshall, M Parker Pearson, J Pollard, C Richards, C Tilley & K Welham, Antiquity 83 (2009), 40–53

This is an essential paper, listing the entire suite of dated samples in all its nerdy and statistical detail:

Stonehenge, Amesbury, Wiltshire: Chronological Modelling, by P Marshall, T Darvill, M Parker Pearson & G Wainwright (English Heritage 2012)

And this one rounds it all up with some important revisions, to get to five “Stages”:

“Stonehenge remodelled”, by T Darvill, P Marshall, M Parker Pearson & G Wainwright, Antiquity 86 (2012), 1021–40

I summarised this sequence in my blog, Stonehenge in five easy stages (or perhaps six). The “perhaps six” was my own contribution. Some of the stuff in the BBC films makes this relevant, so here is the whole thing, with added “car park postholes” – the dated mesolithic pits that lie where the visitor car park used to be.

The first diagram summarises the scheme described in “Stonehenge remodelled”, which groups the key dated site features into five design or construction stages. I’ve put the relevant radiocarbon dates on the right side (all expressed as calibrated 95% probability ranges; a recurrent feature of all this is that there are not enough of these).

Stonehenge 5 stages

The next lists all the radiocarbon dates from things dug up at Stonehenge that are older than Stage 1 – ie that technically “pre-date Stonehenge”. Many of these things appear not to have been found in their original contexts, but in pits dug at later times. But some of them, at least, wouldn’t be on the site if people hadn’t been there to drop them or bury them, so they reveal an important but overlooked, and for now completely mysterious, part of Stonehenge’s story.

And finally the car park dates. Note that two of these overlap with the mesolithic date from Stonehenge itself, though the ranges are very wide, so that needn’t mean that any of these samples actually date contemporary events.

So having got that out of the way, we can look at some of the new work that’s been done in the field. First up is by far the biggest of the various projects.

Stonehenge Riverside Project

Aubrey Hole 7 2008

The Stonehenge Riverside Project began quietly in 2003, with soil augering and surveys, and returned in 2004 to conduct its first small excavations. Its inspiration was Mike Parker Pearson’s idea that Stonehenge was a monument for the dead (ancestors). It grew into a wider quest to give the stones contemporary worlds into which they could be placed, by investigating other nearby monuments and the landscape itself.

Mike Parker Pearson by river Avon 2006

Mike Parker Pearson by river Avon 2006

Durrington Walls 2006

Durrington Walls 2006

Julian Thomas inside Durrington Walls 2006

Julian Thomas inside Durrington Walls 2006

The last dig was in 2009, with major fieldwork in the summer every year in between. There are six directors: Mike Parker Pearson, then at Sheffield University (now UCL), Josh Pollard, then at Bristol University (now Southampton), Colin Richards and Julian Thomas, both at Manchester University, Chris Tilley, UCL, and Kate Welham, Bournemouth University. Two or three dozen other specialists contributed to the project, others (like myself, co-directing the re-excavation of Aubrey Hole 7) hovered on the sidelines, and many hundreds of students and other volunteers gained experience of excavation and survey.

Durrington Walls house floor 2007

Durrington Walls house floor 2007

Stonehenge Cursus 2007

Stonehenge Cursus 2007

Josh Pollard near Woodhenge 2007

Josh Pollard near Woodhenge 2007

Fieldwork has finished, and the massive task of analysis and publication is under way. We have been promised the results in three monographs. The first will describe the early landscape, and excavations that touched on the Cursus, Amesbury 42 long barrow, Woodhenge, bluestones (including Bluestonehenge), sarsens (including the Cuckoo Stone and the Tor Stone), the Avenue and Aubrey Hole 7. Volume 2 will feature Durrington Walls, including houses, middens, timber monuments and henge earthworks. Round barrows, the Palisade, and later prehistoric, medieval and 20th century archaeology will fill the third.

Bluestonehenge 2008

Bluestonehenge 2008

Palisade area 2008

Palisade area 2008

Amesbury 42 long barrow 2008

Amesbury 42 long barrow 2008

Stoneworking area near Stonehenge 2008

Stoneworking area near Stonehenge 2008

You can see just from the headlines that this project covered a huge amount of ground. As you’d expect, there were many new discoveries, some of them – such as the houses at Durrington Walls or the stone circle by the river Avon – of major significance. The opportunities to conduct ecological studies, examine new artefacts and the human remains that had been re-buried in Aubrey Hole 7, and radiocarbon-date new samples have also added enormously to the success of the project.

Bluestonehenge 2009

Bluestonehenge 2009

There have been many articles published along the way looking at particular aspects of this work, and a book by Mike Parker Pearson (published by Simon & Schuster as Stonehenge: Exploring the Greatest Stone Age Mystery in 2012 – and, confusingly, republished by Experiment in 2013 as Stonehenge, a New Understanding: Solving the Mysteries of the Greatest Stone Age Monument, while the first remains in print). All of that is interesting and very helpful for finding out about the project, and you will discover much to enjoy in Parker Pearson’s book. But most of what we are told is inevitably interpretive and relatively thin on data. The monographs, which should describe all we need to know, will launch a new era of Stonehenge understanding, and inspire new research (and may even lead to a Hengeworld 2 – there’s not a lot of point writing another book about Stonehenge until this project is fully published).

Excavation by Darvill and Wainwright

Tim Darvill, Geoff Wainwright and Miles Russell 2008

Tim Darvill, Geoff Wainwright and Miles Russell 2008

In 2008 Tim Darvill and Geoff Wainwright, inspired by their work in Pembrokeshire and the idea that in the neolithic the Stonehenge bluestones were believed to have had healing powers, excavated a small trench at Stonehenge. It lay between the sarsen circle and the ring of bluestones it encloses, where an earlier bluestone structure once stood in what are known as the Q and R holes. They hoped to date the first arrival of bluestones at Stonehenge, something then thought from circumstantial evidence to have occurred around 2600BC.

They failed to achieve this, for interesting reasons: the picture of the area’s stratigraphy as we had come to understand it from Hawley’s and Atkinson’s excavations turned out to be wrong in some significant details. This meant some key conventional relationships between pits underground were overturned, allowing a new and perhaps more convincing megalithic sequence to be proposed.

This is what we see in the final report of those listed above under Site sequence. “Stonehenge remodelled” starts the megalith sequence with a ring of bluestones in the 56 Aubrey Holes around 3000BC – “Stones were probably present at the site from its inception” (page 1029). All the stones in the centre, bluestones and sarsens, appeared quite rapidly about five centuries later.

Darvill and Wainwright have published an interim article about their dig. I found the mix of archaeology and media these excavations stirred up fascinating, and wrote about theirs and the Stonehenge Riverside Project’s work in 2008, and the respective TV films then broadcast:

“Stonehenge excavations 2008”, by T Darvill & G Wainwright, Antiquaries Journal 89 (2009), 1–19

“A year at Stonehenge”, by M Pitts, Antiquity 83 (2009), 184–94

Stonehenge laser scan

Marcus Abbott and Hugo Anderson-Whymark 2012

Marcus Abbott and Hugo Anderson-Whymark 2012

In 2012 English Heritage published the results of an archaeological analysis of laser scan data of the Stonehenge megaliths, collected by a commercial contractor. This cumbersome phrasing reflects an awkward fact: the laser survey was not archaeologically informed, but conducted for English Heritage who then asked archaeologists to look at it. Consequently, not everything that might be there to see was necessarily seen. However, the analysis by Marcus Abbott and Hugo Anderson-Whymark was sophisticated and perceptive, and resulted in significant new insights into the monument – unsurprising, perhaps, as this was, astonishingly, the first ever proper survey of the stones.

Among the key discoveries were that almost every surface of the stones has been dressed – but that this dressing is uneven, and tells stories. First, the amount of damage done to the stones from visitors with steel hammers is vastly more than any of us had imagined. This will have had the effect of making the stones look rougher now than they were originally – finely dressed edges have often been bashed off.

lintels 158 & 154

The effect is so strong, it’s worth illustrating – I put the above images together for the feature Abbott and Anderson-Whymark wrote for British Archaeology. Sarsen lintel 158 was on the ground between 1797, when the uprights supporting it fell down, and 1958, when they were re-erected. William Stukeley drew it in the 1720s, with nice sharp edges (engraving at top). The lintel today (centre) shows what visitors did to it between 1797 and 1958. If that does not convince, look at lintel 154 (bottom). This has never fallen – and remains undamaged, beyond the reach of tourist arms. Records describe visitors chipping off souvenirs throughout the 18th and 19th centuries, but this is the first time the results have been documented.

Secondly, some parts of the monument were better carved than others from the start. This is summarised in another diagram we prepared for British Archaeology:

ARTICLE

Look at the contrast between sarsens to the north-east and those to the south-west. It seems the place was designed to impress as you approached from the north (along the Avenue route), to be seen from that direction inside (note finest surfaces face inward), and not really to be seen at all from the back, where there is relatively little dressing and the stones themselves are smaller and rougher.

This tells us something about how the site functioned (all eyes seem to be on the midwinter sunset to the south-west, for example). It also helps explain why so many stones are missing round the back – they were never big and muscular in the first place. This was the first new evidence to suggest the big sarsen circle was ever a complete ring, one more recently supported by the grass parchmarks seen in 2013.

Stonehenge laser scan: archaeological analysis report, by M Abbott & H Anderson-Whymark (English Heritage 2012)

Landscape surveys

As well as all the above, there have been surveys and many other small excavations in the world heritage site, often occasioned by work associated with the new visitor centre arrangements. Here are some of those you can find online.

Stonehenge Environmental Improvements Project. Archaeology & the Historic Environment: Baseline Assessment, prepared for English Heritage by Wessex Archaeology (2009)

Stonehenge World Heritage Site Landscape Project: Stonehenge, Amesbury, Wiltshire, by D Field & T Pearson (English Heritage 2010)

Stonehenge World Heritage Site Landscape Project: King Barrow Ridge, by S Bishop (English Heritage 2011)

Stonehenge World Heritage Site Landscape Project: Stonehenge Cursus, Amesbury, Wiltshire, by T Pearson & D Field (English Heritage 2011)

Stonehenge World Heritage Site Landscape Project: Level I Field Investigations, by S Bishop (English Heritage 2011)

Stonehenge World Heritage Site Landscape Project: A344 Corridor: Level I Survey, by A Komar & D Field (English Heritage 2012)

Stonehenge Monument Field & Barrows, Wiltshire: Report on Geophysical Surveys, September 2010, April & July 2011, by N Linford, P Linford & A Payne (English Heritage 2012)

Stonehenge World Heritage Site Landscape Project: Larkhill Barrows, Durrington, by S Soutar (English Heritage 2012)

Stonehenge World Heritage Site Landscape Project: Lake Barrows, The Diamond & Normanton Gorse, by M Bowden, D Field & S Soutar (English Heritage 2012)

Stonehenge World Heritage Site Synthesis: Prehistoric Landscape, Environment & Economy, by M Canti, G Campbell & S Greaney (English Heritage 2013)

Stonehenge, Wiltshire: Report on Magnetic Susceptibility Survey, January 2013, by N Linford (English Heritage 2013)

English Heritage has additionally published a detailed online guide to Stonehenge sources, which has much of real use in it.

Petrology

Finally, Richard Bevins, Rob Ixer and colleagues have for many years been slowly tracking down sources for the many varieties of bluestone present at Stonehenge and in the landscape around, with surprises at every turn. They have published many technical reports. I recommend a general overview they wrote for British Archaeology (Sep/Oct 2014/138).

Film critique

This is already too long, but I owe the makers of Operation Stonehenge: What Lies Beneath – and anyone wondering about some of the things in the films – a critique. Apart from introducing the work to those unfamiliar with it, my point is that there has been a huge amount of research at and around Stonehenge – the problem is not a shortage of data or stories, but, if anything, a surfeit. If you regularly read British Archaeology, you will be aware of much of this, as we have covered all the major projects over the past decade. I guess the programme makers didn’t get the magazines. (What follows will mean nothing to you if you haven’t seen the films!)

Episode 1

The Amesbury excavation is potentially important for mesolithic studies, but any connection with Stonehenge is entirely speculative, and in any direct sense meaningless – the site is thousands of years older than Stonehenge, and tells stories about people with radically different culture and mind-sets. We did, of course, long know that mesolithic hunters and fishers lived in the landscape, and we have material of this date from the site itself, and close by.

The Grimes Graves flint mines in Norfolk are extraordinary, but have nothing to do with Stonehenge. They are an exceptional group of late neolithic mines, dated to around 2400–2200BC. The evidence for flint-axe making is relatively slight, so the relevance of these mines to axes and Stonehenge, one of the links made in the film, is difficult to see. The link about monumental engineering is also obscure.

The Greater Cursus at Stonehenge is dated to before 3000BC, the Stonehenge earthwork was dug around 3000BC, possibly the first stones arrived at the same time, and the major Stonehenge monument is dated to around 2500BC. So all of this is older than the Grimes Graves mines.

There are big early neolithic flint mines in Sussex and Hampshire where axes WERE made, but curiously when people are building all these big timber henges like Woodhenge, when you’d think they’d need axe blades by the ton, there is relatively little sign of any big flint mines making them. It looks as if at that time they were relying more on surface and shallow flint (there are some small flint quarries up near Durrington Walls, for example – you don’t need to go to Norfolk). Grimes Graves is the LAST large scale engineering project we see in the neolithic, not the first.

The two big pits in the geofizz survey on the Cursus are quite dramatic discoveries. In the film lines are drawn to suggest they are aligned with Stonehenge, and the rising and setting sun at midsummer. The pits are of course undated without excavation. Among other things, they could be mesolithic, like the car park postholes. There was a big pit we know from early excavation at the far west end of the Cursus that has all the signs of being something similar to the car park post pits (I noted it in Hengeworld). They could be early neolithic, like the pit at Coneybury henge (named the anomaly, because it showed up as a big feature in early geofizz). They could be anything. If the solar alignment is correct and considered meaningful, they could be where posts were put up any time after Stonehenge was built.

Episode 2

A big sarsen in modern woodland, half buried

A big sarsen in modern woodland, half buried

Katy Whitaker experimenting with sarsen was one of the few things in either film, apart from the geofizz, worth watching. I blogged about a TV film I was involved in, when we went into woodland near Marlborough where there are sarsens mixed up with trees, I think a much more likely look for neolithic people in search of megaliths than the open downland we usually see (as in this film). But what really makes that location, and is useful for experimental archaeology, is that sarsens were quarried there, and you can see the process – buried sarsens poking out of the ground, sarsens exposed by excavation but still in situ, and empty quarry pits where the stones have been taken out. All that is early 20th century, but my point is that contrary to Whitaker’s comment, you do have to quarry them, which is critically important for the archaeological value of the sites – if we can only find them!

Once you’ve chosen your stone, the next question is not how do you move it, as Whitaker put it, but how do you shape it? You dig it out and examine it, and figure out if there’s a megalith in it – a sort of Michelangelo/Henry Moore job. If there is, you rough it out, dress it to shape. That’s a major operation. Grinding I think would have been a finishing job done at the site, not a primary shaping task.

But I did like her stone grinding sequence. Atkinson did something similar in an early film – but he used a neolithic maul on a Stonehenge megalith!

Neubauer’s presentation of the conventional view of the stone route from the river Avon was disingenuous or ill-informed, as I don’t think anyone’s suggested dragging stones across the hilliest straight line route – rather more or less along the avenue, which takes a gentler path (and small bluestones, not the big sarsens). However, his ideas about the marks along the avenue by Stonehenge and then continuing “towards the Marlborough downs” could be important. If he’s right. We got to see very little of what he had actually found… but what I could see looked suspiciously like things we’ve long known about, and are mostly historical in date.

Tony Johnson’s stuff – the lines on the sand in the film – is well described in his 2008 book. It’s all workable, but also in 2008, John Hill at the University of Liverpool, Centre for Life Long Learning, did something similar in a field, with school kids and no plans or geometry at all to get the same result.

The argument linking the Boscombe grave to the transport of bluestones, embodied in the name “The Boscombe Bowmen”, was a selective one apparently originated by archaeologists for press consumption after the excavation in 2003. Isotope analysis, in the film argued by Jacqueline McKinley to show that the individuals came from Wales, pointed more generally to Scotland, the Lake District, Wales and south-west England, and beyond into parts of Ireland and the continent. The only apparent reasons for plumping for Wales are that it’s closest, and it fitted with a media spin that linked the remains to the bluestones.

Radiocarbon dates are not precise enough to help with this issue, especially when you remember that there are two theories for when bluestones reached Stonehenge: Stage 1 (3000–2620BC) or Stage 3 (2480–2280BC). Dates for the Boscombe grave range between 2580–2340 to 2340–2140. That rules out Stage 1, but Stage 3 remains a possibility – as do both before it began and after it ended. So a link between bluestones and these burials cannot be supported by the chronology.

Later we get into further problems with dating human remains. “Three centuries after its construction”, we are told with reference to the burial of a man in the ditch at the monument, “Stonehenge became a site of human sacrifice”. I have no great argument with hypothesising sacrifice, it’s undoubtedly a possibility for an unusual burial – with death from perhaps more than the three arrows shown in the film – in an unusual place (it was a word I used in Hengeworld). But I question the narrative. Radiocarbon dates for this burial average 2400–2140BC. The story is placed in the middle of a section about “the Beaker period”, 300 years after Stonehenge was built. Yet the burial’s date is indistinguishable from the Boscombe Bowmen’s dates, for men who, the film earlier told us, came from Wales with stones to build Stonehenge, 300 years before. You can’t have it both ways.

Near the end of the film, we visit the new galleries at Devizes Museum, whom I am pleased to credit. This accompanies a bizarre experiment in making gold pins to match those found at the Bush Barrow burial (though the new products didn’t look at all like the old pins), leading to a theory that children destroyed their eyes in gold workshops, and thence to stories in the media.

Mike Corfield recently published an analysis of these pins, and proposed how they were made. He was so upset by this sequence in the film, he wrote to the Society of Antiquaries, who quoted him in their newsletter. “The programme’s description of the method of making the studs”, he says, “was utter bunk and made worse by the sculptor’s elbow apparently resting on a page from my paper… in which I describe in detail how the studs were made and how they were put into the wood.”

See “The decoration of Bronze Age dagger handles with gold studs”, by M Corfield, in Of Things Gone but not Forgotten: Essays in Archaeology for Joan Taylor, ed JR Trigg (BAR 2012).

End

And here, finally, is the rub. If you really want to make a film about Stonehenge, that shows viewers things they don’t know, that helps them understand Stonehenge and the way archaeologists think about it today, that stimulates and entertains but decidedly does not patronise – and along the way produces some entirely original programming – all you have to do, is tell the complete story revealed by archaeology, and tell it well. The last film that did those two things was directed by Paul Johnstone. It was broadcast in 1954.

Antiquities sales: it’s a funny old world

Bonhams Harageh 1

Three months ago Christie’s London sold an ancient Egyptian statue for £14m (estimate £4–6m). Today Bonhams London were to sell a group of ancient Egyptian antiquities (estimate £80–120,000). The lots had things in common. Both were taken out of Egypt (just) over a century ago, and both were in museums open to the public. Both had been given to those museums (the first in Northampton, the second in St Louis) on the understanding that they would remain in the public realm (in the case of the statue, that was stipulated in a legal document). And both were taken off display by the institutions in whose care they happened at the moment to be, and given to a London auction house with a view to making a profit, with no restrictions on where they should end up. Both sales were greeted with protest from some in the archaeological community.

Bonhams Harageh 2

There are differences, too. Northampton Borough Council has been almost boastful of its achievement, dismissing criticism. Yesterday the Museums Association barred Northampton Museums Service from membership for at least five years, not the first sanction. “We have already notified them that we have resigned from the Association and have no desire to ever re-join,” said a spokesperson for the council. “We could not see what benefit it offered to our museums.”

Perhaps to avoid a dispute over the original bequest, the council paid a very large sum of money to a descendent of the private donor. This option would seem not to have been available to the Archaeological Institute of America St Louis Society, which acquired the artefacts promoted by Bonhams from an excavation by the British School of Archaeology in Egypt (BSAE). On September 26, Alice Stevenson, UCL Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaeology, and Chris Naunton, of the London-based Egypt Exploration Society, issued a statement condemning the sale. They explained that “The regulations of the BSAE stipulate quite explicitly that any antiquities granted to it by the Egyptian authorities were to be distributed to ‘public museums’.”

On September 30, the parent body of the St Louis Society, the Archaeological Institute of America itself, expressed “the deepest concern” over the sale. That would have gone ahead today (at 12.39pm, as it happened). But as I was sitting at my screen preparing to watch the sale online, at some time between 10.05am and 10.38am, Bonhams revealed that they had withdrawn the lot. That’s good news for now, and we await to hear what happened. But meanwhile, what else went under the hammer?

This was a regular antiquities sale, the sort of thing Bonhams is getting pretty good at. I took screen grabs as the lots went by. Here are some, with the full provenance details from the catalogue. In all of these shots, the “current bid” was the highest (usually resulting in a purchase), the ranges (£6000–8000, etc) Bonhams’ pre-sale estimates.

lot 79

Lot 79: American private collection, San Francisco, since the 1960s.

lot 80Lot 80: Robert Knight Collection, UK, purchased in 2006. Bonhams London, 27 April 2006, lot 131. London art market.

lot 81Lot 81: J.A. Person Collection, California, inherited in 1992. Deceased estate of Dr Charles R. Paul (d.1992), Los Angeles, California, formed between 1965-1985. Accompanied by a copy of a Survey Appraisal of the deceased estate of Charles R. Paul, dated 10 November 1992, no.18.

lot 84Lot 84: American private collection, acquired in the late 1980s in New York. (Curious how the head and hands are missing, though who knows, perhaps they will appear in another auction?)

Lot 90Lot 90: Japanese private collection, acquired from Alain de Montbrison, Paris in 1988.

lot 97Lot 97: Austrian private collection, Vienna, acquired on the Munich art market in the 1990s.

Lot 98Lot 98: Austrian private collection, Vienna, acquired on the Munich art market in the 1990s.

Lot 101Lot 101: Christie’s, New York, 9 December 2008, lot 182. French private collection, Paris, acquired in 1985.

Lot 104Lot 104: French private collection of Mrs A. acquired circa 1980.

Lot 108Lot 108: Private collection, Switzerland, acquired in August 2003. European private collection, UK and Switzerland, formed in the 1970s and 1980s. Accompanied by a thermoluminescence test from Oxford Authentication.

Lot 117Lot 117: German private collection, acquired at Dr Hüll auction house, Cologne, 12 April 2012, lot 691. Mr Schahpur Katebi Collection (1926-2013) , received as a gift from the Shah of Persia after discovering the coffin during an excavation campaign in the Amlash region in the 1950s. Mr Katebi brought the coffin with him to Basel, Switzerland, in 1979, and subsequently to Cologne, Germany, in 1981. Accompanied by a copy of a shipping document dated 1981 and by a letter to Mr Katebi dated 28 January 1983, referring to the publication of the coffin. Published J. Curtis, ‘Late Assyrian Bronze Coffins’, in Anatolian Studies, vol. XXXIII, London, 1983, pp.85-89.

(Note this was amended by the time the item came under the hammer, as I will comment on below. Not sold.)

Lot 123Lot 123: UK private collection, acquired in the 1970s.

Lot 124Lot 124: Private collection, Switzerland, acquired in August 2003. European private collection, UK and Switzerland, formed in the 1970s and 1980s.

Lot 128Lot 128: French private collection of G.D, acquired in about 1975.

Lot 140Lot 140: Find spot Pucklington area, East Yorkshire. Treasure report 2013 T184. PAS Database number NLM-1A8B56. Accompanied by a copy of the release letter issued by the British Museum, indicating that the panel was considered under the Treasure Act and disclaimed by the Crown.

Lot 146Lot 146: UK private collection, England, acquired in the 1970s. Accompanied by a copy of an insurance valuation from 2002.

Lot 159Lot 159: Dr Güngör Tezel, Germany, acquired between 1964–1974.

Lot 160Lot 160: Property of the Archaeological Institute of America, St. Louis Society Inc. Acquired circa 1914 in return for contributing to funding the excavation. Excavated in 1913-14 by the British School of Archaeology in Egypt from Tomb 124 at Harageh, the Fayum, near Lahun.

Lot 160 is described as “An important Egyptian tomb group from Harageh Middle Kingdom, 12th Dynasty, probably the reign of Sesostris II , circa 1897-1878 B.C.” Its value, to collectors as much as to all of us, lies particularly in its provenance, which brings together a group of disparate artefacts known to have been buried in a grave.

Hand on heart, I chose these pieces purely because of their intrinsic interest – I hadn’t read the catalogue in advance, and I wasn’t looking at it as the sale progressed. These were just things I thought looked nice.

Where does all this stuff come from, so well preserved yet so vaguely provenanced? And what’s odd about this list?

Here’s a hint.

The Convention on the Means of Prohibiting and Preventing the Illicit Import, Export and Transfer of Ownership of Cultural Property, an international treaty designed to counter illegal and immoral traffic in art and antiquities, was adopted by UNESCO in 1970.

It’s regularly referred to as a standard in antiquities export matters. For example, the UCL Institute of Archaeology says it supports the convention in its “Policy regarding the illicit trade in antiquities”. The presumption is that any antiquity which left its country of origin after 1970, with no evidence of having legitimately done so, was illicitly exported. Its current possessor cannot be said to have undisputed legal title.

Going through the list above, how many artefacts pass that criterion? How many can show they were either exported before 1970, or were legitimately  exported after? You have to be careful how you read the “provenances”. Lot 79 (“private collection… since the 1960s”) might sound OK, but who’s to say what was acquired after the 1960s? Lot 81 (“formed between 1965-1985”) could be pre-1970, but equally may not be.

In fact, only three lots come with apparently unequivocal data implying they do not to break the UNESCO convention.

Lot 140 PAS

Lot 140. An Anglo-Saxon piece from Yorkshire, this has not left the country where it was made. It was found by a detectorist in 2013, and recorded by the Portable Antiquities Scheme based at the British Museum (as the photos above show, a small piece of red garnet seems to have been fitted since the record was made, when the bottom panel was described as “set with four small rectangular garnets, three of which survive”).

Lot 117. Mr Schahpur Katebi received this coffin as a gift, we are told, from the Shah of Persia, after discovering it in the 1950s. He brought it with him to Switzerland in 1979. So it would seem, though it may have left its country of origin in 1979, the coffin had been gifted by the Shah long before. Yet no! Bonhams changed the catalogue entry, which, as you can see above, no longer explicitly says Mr Katebi had any right to ownership. Perhaps that’s why, this morning, an item with an estimated sale price of £100–120,000 failed to sell, raising only £85,000. Buyers have standards.

Which leaves:

Lot 160: Property of the Archaeological Institute of America, St. Louis Society. Where it apparently still remains.

Oh, and regarding Lot 108. I have no wish to imply that Oxford Authentication knowingly lent its name to support an illegally exported antiquity. I would be pleased to publish any evidence they would like to show me to put that right. Part of my concern is that salerooms like Bonhams seem to be cavalier with provenance evidence. Surely they have more information about some of these than they have published? Let’s see it, we would all benefit.

Richard III’s death – the grim details

Forensic archaeology at its best – if perhaps not entirely welcome to everyone. We are now able to read exactly what Richard III’s skeleton tells us about his traumatic death.

The description of the wounds, in a multi-authored paper published in the Lancet, changes little of what has already been told (so my summary in Act V of Digging for Richard III is happily pretty much right), but adds much detail as it sets out all the evidence. Here’s a handy summary of what it says, to help you navigate what the press thinks it says.

The main conclusions are:

  • Richard died on his knees, his crown and helmet removed – and his proven identify revealed – “after a sustained attack or an attack by several assailants”
  • with his head bloodied and badly damaged, his body was stripped of the remaining armour, and slung naked over a horse; here it took two cutting blows, to the back and buttocks, the latter penetrating the bowel and, had he been alive, causing “substantial bleeding”.

And here is more detail.

Shona Campbell, consultant radiologist, Jo Appleby and Guy Rutty putting some of the king’s remains into a Toshiba Medical Systems CT scanner at the Leicester Royal Infirmary. Photo Leicester University

Claire Robinson (Advanced Practitioner Forensics), Jo Appleby and Mike Biggs (Home Office Pathologist with the East Midlands Forensic Pathology Unit) putting some of the king’s remains into a Toshiba Medical Systems CT scanner at the Leicester Royal Infirmary. Photo Leicester University

  1. They found nine, possibly ten, perimortem injuries to the head, and two to the body (perimortem means they were inflicted close to the point of death, though that could be before, at or after this). None had healed, they could have been delivered in any order, they are consistent with later medieval weaponry, and three would rapidly have been fatal.
  1. The head wounds, says the paper, suggest that the king was not wearing a helmet when he was killed, though he was otherwise armoured (no wounds to arms and hands – people typically raise their arms defensively when attacked). This would indicate that a potentially fatal pelvis injury, and a non-fatal rib injury, were probably received after death, when his armour had been stripped off.
  1. Thus what actually killed Richard were probably one or two injuries to the back of the head. These “are highly consistent with the body having been in a prone position or on its knees with the head pointing downwards… the head had to be forward and flexed from the neck to expose this part of the head and cervical spine.”

Funnily enough, we came to exactly the same conclusion about an Anglo-Saxon skeleton from Stonehenge. In that case, the man was beheaded with a single sword blow (described at length in my book, Hengeworld). The Stonehenge skull (which for burial had been placed on the body’s shoulders, so that execution was only recognised when we examined the remains in 1999, though the grave had been excavated in 1923), was raised above the body. Richard III’s skull was thus raised, which is why I asked Jo Appleby, when I was writing Digging for Richard III, if there were any signs of beheading? She said no.

Richard died on the battlefield and received several wounds, some of which we very likely can’t see (not having damaged any bone). Yet there is an element of the execution about his death, too. He didn’t die fighting Richmond, as Shakespeare had it. Nor, perhaps, was he necessarily the victim of the Welshman Rhys ap Thomas who “shaved his head” – that would seem more appropriate for the glancing sword blows to the back of the head (see below) than either of the two that penetrated the brain. In other respects, we see once again that near contemporary historical records and archaeology agree. Richard III was struck “until his brains came out with blood”, apparently when he was “on his knees”. Perhaps he simply fell down, as his body crumpled beneath the attack, to receive the fatal blows at that moment of collapse.

skull

A pair of nasty wounds in the head (numbered as below). Photo Leicester University

The Lancet report lists 11 wounds – nine to the skull, two to the rest of the body – and suggests a 12th, which might instead have been caused by bone breaking in the ground after burial. Strictly there are 13 or 14, which I’ve indicated here by adding sub-letters:

1. A small cut on the right jaw from a knife or dagger

2. A smaller “toolmark” higher up the right jaw, which “seems to be an injury from a sharp weapon”

3. A penetrating injury to the right cheek, from a square-sectioned dagger blade

4–6. Three shallow “shaving-type injuries caused by a [sharp-]bladed implement” on the back of the skull, two of which show similar striations and were probably made with the same blade, but this is not certain

7. An oblique blow to the head from above, from a rondel dagger (not an arrow), perhaps the same weapon that caused wound 3

8. A “sharp-force trauma” at the rear base of the skull, caused by a large blade, possibly a sword or staff weapon such as a halberd or billhook

9a–c. A penetrating injury at the left base of the skull, which aligned on an injury on the inside of the skull 105mm distant through the head; it also aligned on a cut mark on the atlas vertebra (the top neck bone). These could have been caused by a sword tip or the top spike of a bill or halberd, and represent a single blow; I think the vertebral cut is described here for the first time

10. A sharp force toolmark on the right 10th rib, with two distinct cuts within the injury, probably made by a dagger rather than a sword and coming from behind

The third potentially fatal wound, in the hip. Photo Leicester University

The third potentially fatal wound, in the hip. Photo Leicester University

11. An incised injury on the right hip, caused by a fine-bladed weapon (not a staff) entering from behind; “the angle of the injury… is highly consistent” with an attack when, as contemporary accounts describe, Richard’s naked body was slung over a horse.Other damage was probably caused by soil pressure during the centuries of burial:

i. Some cheek sutures had separated; one of these separations, on the right side, could alternatively have been caused by “direct facial trauma” (12), such as a weapon forced into the maxilla (as caused wound 3), or a blow to the back of the head (several options above)

ii. The mandible (lower jaw) was fractured

iii. Many of the ribs were “fragmented by taphonomic processes”, but any further injuries here would nonetheless probably have been seen.

There is something else, described almost in passing at the start of the paper. The previously published estimate for the skeleton’s age was late 20s to late 30s (Antiquity 2013, 536). This is now refined to 30–34. While the full evidence is not given, it is said that it came from the auricular surfaces of the ilium, the os pubis, the complete fusion of the medial clavicle, rib end morphology and cranial sutures, using “standard post-mortem CT methods”. This is quite a precise age estimate, and it will be interesting to see how what will undoubtedly have been unusually close examination of the remains allowed them to reach this conclusion – which we know from the historical evidence to be correct (Richard III died when he was 32). In other words, this could be one of many areas where new ground is being broken.

In view of disputed accounts of who paid for what in this project, it’s worth noting, from the acknowledgments, that “the University of Leicester funded this research”. Archaeologists call the analyses that make sense of what is dug up, without which there would be little point to the exercise and the excavation would be irresponsible, post-excavation. Post-excavation almost always costs more, often substantially more, than the dig itself – as in this case, where even by the end of 2012, when post-ex had barely begun, the cost of digging (£48,518, of which the Richard III Society contributed an essential £18,083) was dwarfed by the analytical costs (£94,115, paid for by the university). It’s quite possible that this study of the wounds alone – which involved among much else, use of a CT scanner and a micro-CT scanner – cost more than the Richard III Society’s contribution towards excavation costs. This is not to belittle anyone, but simply to explain how it works.

And the writers end by saying, once again and quite rightly, “thanks to Philippa Langley, without whose faith and perseverance none of this would ever have been possible”.

References

Perimortem trauma in King Richard III: a skeletal analysis”, by Jo Appleby, Guy Rutty, Sarah Hainsworth, Robert Woosnam-Savage, Bruno Morgan, Alison Brough, Richard Earp, Claire Robinson, Turi King, Mathew Morris & Richard Buckley, The Lancet (2014)

The Lancet also has online comment, and a video, with some good graphics, narrated by Sarah Hainsworth, one of the article’s authors and professor of engineering at Leicester University

This is the fifth peer-reviewed article about the excavation. Here are the other four:

  1. “‘The king in the car park’: new light on the death & burial of Richard III in the Grey Friars church, Leicester, in 1485”, Antiquity (May 2013)
  1. The intestinal parasites of King Richard III”, The Lancet (September 2013)
  1. The scoliosis of Richard III, last Plantagenet King of England: diagnosis and clinical significance”, The Lancet (May 2014)
  1. Multi-isotope analysis demonstrates significant lifestyle changes in King Richard III”, by Angela Lamb, Jane Evans, Richard Buckley & Jo Appleby, Journal of Archaeological Science (August 2014)

At last: a Stonehenge story that is exactly what it says

Simon Banton, Tim Daw and Mark Bowden (left to right) survey pits for missing sarsens 17 (in foreground beneath tape), 18, 19 and 20

Simon Banton, Tim Daw and Mark Bowden (left to right) survey pits for missing sarsens 17 (in foreground beneath tape), 18, 19 and 20

The new Antiquity has a paper by Simon Banton, Mark Bowden, Tim Daw, Damian Grady and Sharon Soutar. All work for English Heritage: Bowden, Grady and Soutar are based at the Swindon centre, and Banton and Daw at Stonehenge. Their study began in last year’s exceptionally dry summer, when Tim Daw realised patches of dead grass at the site matched the location of some missing stones. Simon Banton agreed. They contacted their archaeological colleagues in Swindon, and set out to record the marks.

The story followed by the press is about the big sarsen circle (the BBC has a good report with a couple of key illustrations from the Antiquity paper, for which you need to be a subscriber to read). This says that the parchmarks, on the west side of the site where there is the longest run of missing stones, definitively prove that there were once stones there, and thus that the circle really was a circle – and not, as some archaeologists have been arguing, an unclosed arc.

Readers of British Archaeology will have learnt about this a year ago, when I reported the news – and the startling point that had the site hose been a little longer, the grass there would have been watered, and the marks might never have been seen. I was pretty confident that this was indeed evidence that the circle had been complete, as you can read in the news text copied at the end of this blog. Ironically, given the press’s new shared confidence, the Antiquity team say that “the evidence is still inconclusive”.

“While the discovery of parchmarks corresponding to stone holes 17 and 18 does have a bearing on this question”, they write, “it does not answer some of the other difficulties listed above [eg “lintels are missing from positions where it would have been difficult (and illogical) to remove them”] and the presence of a stone hole does not of itself prove that a stone ever stood in it.”

Signs of pits beyond the standing stones

Signs of pits beyond the standing stones

Leaving that aside (I remain on the completist wing), the new paper brings much more than this. Dave Field (also English Heritage) noticed further marks in the grass that corresponded to the Y and Z Holes (both excavated and unexcavated) – and “others [which] apparently formed a third, concentric ring between them”. This is entirely new, and potentially of huge significance in our flailing attempts to understand these pits beyond the stones. “Until the new features at Stonehenge can be corroborated”, they conclude, “:and in the absence of dating evidence this remains speculative: but if [the parchmarks between the Y and Z Holes] could be proved to be postholes of mid third millennium BC date they would offer firm evidence for [Alex] Gibson’s proposal [of multi-circuit timber post settings at Stonehenge].”

parch marks

And there’s more.

“A number of more diffuse marks were noted, at approximately 5m intervals, on the inner flank of the southern and eastern sections of the enclosure bank, three of them apparently corresponding with holes F, G and H… This second set of marks was photographed from the air (by DG) on 26 July and from a lower level by Adam Stanford on 27 July… but unfortunately it was not possible to survey them until the following week when they were already fading rapidly (and some had indeed disappeared).”

As the Antiquity team say (thank you!), this new evidence offers “some support for Pitts’ suggestion of an outer ring of stones between the Aubrey holes and the enclosure bank. This was based on antiquarian evidence, the presence of holes F, G and H, and the Station Stones (Pitts 1981). However, again, more research is needed to clarify this issue.”

This is a wonderful piece of serendipitous research, highly productive and promptly published. If anyone remained unconvinced that new, targeted excavation at Stonehenge is needed, surely any doubts must now be dispelled?

Ground-truthed: the dead grass at the base of stone 56 on the left exactly maps Gowland’s 1901 trench (below). The small square just to the right is where one of his supports stood when they were straightening the stone. The larger patch beyond, around the fallen stones, is where the ground had been cut out for the gravel that used to fill the area before the public were excluded

Ground-truthed: the dead grass at the base of stone 56 standing on the left exactly maps Gowland’s 1901 trench (below). The small square just to the right is where one of his supports stood when they were straightening the stone. The larger patch beyond, around the fallen stones, is where the ground had been cut out for the gravel that used to fill the area before the public were excluded

Gowland 1902 fig 7

This is the Antiquity plan, slightly adapted: colouring the Y and Z Hole rings with a pink band makes it easier to see the newly revealed pits in between. We have no firm evdience for when any of these orange “pits” were dug, or what they were for.

Banton et al 2014 adapted

Banton et al 2014 adapted

 

Parchmarks at Stonehenge, July 2013”, by S Banton, M Bowden, T Daw, D Grady & S Soutar, Antiquity 88 (2014), 733–39.

Stones, pits and Stonehenge”, by M Pitts, Nature 290 (1981), 46–47.

 

Stonehenge dispute solved after 260 years

From British Archaeology Jul/Aug 2013/132

Generations of guidebooks and reconstructions for television films have shown an original Stonehenge as a complete megalithic circle. Yet since at least the 18th century archaeologists have debated whether that was so. The idea that there never was a full ring of sarsens had gained ground in recent years. New evidence resulting from the hot, dry weather seems to have clinched the case for a complete circle. Had English Heritage provided its site staff with a longer hosepipe, it is evidence that may never have been seen.

Stonehenge today looks much as it did when first recorded in the late middle ages. Approached from the north-east, it has the appearance of a ring of massive, closely spaced pillars under a continuous ring of lintels. From the south-west, however, most of the stones in the apparent ring are seen to be missing, or fallen and broken.

In 1655 the architect Inigo Jones, inspired by ancient Roman buildings, imagined Stonehenge as a symmetric monument with a complete lintelled circle. Architect John Wood’s rival theory, based on the first accurate survey of the stones and published in 1747, was that “the whole Work was never compleat”. Jones’s version became the popular view, though Wood’s has always had its followers, among them Egyptologist Flinders Petrie, who surveyed the site in 1880. In 1995 geophysical survey found no trace of four stones. A study by English Heritage in 2010 saw an “increasingly likely possibility that the outer stone structure was not completed as a circle”.

A new case for a full ring emerged last year with a 3d laser survey of the stones by English Heritage (feature Nov/Dec 2012/127). Signs for massive damage to fallen stones were taken to argue that many could have been removed entirely. Details of stone finish and shape suggested that Stonehenge, “an architecturally complex structure, and not a regular circle”, was designed to be seen from the north-east and the inside; stones to the south-west were smaller and less well finished. Clues to missing stones – geophysical and excavation evidence, fallen fragments, and tenons on adjacent stones implying the existence of former lintels – left only one megalith for which no reasonable case could be found: number 17.

In July zones of grass parched brown in the rare heat were noticed by Stonehenge steward Tim Daw where buried ancient pits (Y and Z Holes) are known to exist. There were other parch marks on the sites of missing stones on the south-west side, including a run between 17 and 20 – proof to close the complete circle. A water sprinkler had kept much of the grass green, but the hose did not reach that far.

Mark Bowden, an archaeologist in English Heritage’s Assessment Team (West), said there is still a case that the circle may have been incomplete. It seems likely, however, that most archaeologists will now accept a Jones-Wood compromise: complete, but a bit rough round the back.

Sarah Raphael in David Inshaw mood

A member of the family Bonhams

Bonhams London sale of Modern British & Irish Art coming up on September 16 has so many lovely things (with estimates to match), including several pieces by Alan Reynolds and this outstanding acrylic by Sarah Raphael (1960–2001), A Member of the Family (1990). Michael Glover wrote about this work in the Independent in 2013, comparing Raphael’s vision to those of Samuel Palmer and Stanley Spencer. Some of her gorgeous landscapes undoubtedly have a superficial Spencerian ring about them, but this makes me think more of Paul Nash (the lines of poles, the clump of rounded bushes and the Silbury Hill-like cone – the top of a half-hidden hay rick?), and particularly David Inshaw: all those landscape elements – a little Italianised at the top – with one male and three female figures caught in a critical moment of fraught engagement, to us completely mysterious. And it’s only £6,000–8,000 (plus 25% buyer’s premium).

Keeping up with Happisburgh

Happisburgh

I was in Norfolk a couple of weeks ago, checking out the sites. The shore is changing fast, as homes are threatened by cliff falls and the internationally significant archaeology beneath everything is carved out and washed away by the sea. Compare the view then (above) with that from the same place in 2006, with excavation in progress (below). See how the groynes have been exposed and eroded, the concrete pillbox is being broken up and the cliff receding.

Inside the church (where an organist was limbering up for a recital) is an impressive font. The original is said to be 15th century, but it was recarved in the 19th, with a remarkably prescient hairy man with wooden club – a “woodhouse”, surely responsible for the footprints on the beach.

Happisburgh

We have John Sell Cotman to thank (as for so much else) for this record of how the older font looked in its last days (with what look like a few bits of the ceiling). The original watercolour, made around 1811, is in the Paul Mellon Collection at the Yale Centre for British Art.

JS Cotman Happisburgh Yale

Here are a few more photos of the church I took in 2006.

Happisburgh angel

Happisburgh flintwork

Happisburgh window

Happisburgh churchyard 1

Happisburgh churchyard 2

Richard III’s teeth and bones: why we didn’t know it all before

Out today is the fourth peer-reviewed article deriving from the search for Richard III’s grave. It focuses on the king’s bones and teeth, specifically what a few of them might tell us about where he lived at different times in his life, and how his diet changed. And once again, the scientific release occurs on the day Channel 4 broadcasts a new film about the dig.

He’s out there somewhere (photo Darlow Smithson Productions/Channel 4)

He’s out there somewhere (photo Darlow Smithson Productions/Channel 4)

The headline conclusions are:

  • Richard III’s diet was impressively aristocratic – high in meat and fish (some of which were from the sea) – though for a period from the age of around five it was heavier on grains; this youthful gruel episode was offset by greater luxuries when he was king, including more freshwater fish and wildfowl, and wine
  • The study supports Richard’s known origins in Northamptonshire, but suggests he had moved out of eastern England by age seven, and lived further west, possibly in the Welsh Marches (the borderland area between Wales and England), returning to eastern England as an adolescent or young adult.

Indicative sites of samples: from a lower second premolar, an upper second molar, a left rib and a right femur (base photo University of Leicester)

Indicative sites of samples: from a lower second premolar, an upper second molar, a left rib and a right femur (base photo University of Leicester)

There will be sceptics. There will be historians thinking, “Fancy that, Richard III lived in eastern England and had a posh diet, who would’ve guessed?” Google found me a press article on Friday (that its publisher probably believed not to have been online ahead of the Sunday embargo) that opened, “Research conducted on the composition of Richard III of England’s teeth and bones confirm what we already knew”. Such writers miss the point.

First, this is real, new evidence, not stuff that is just assumed. Secondly, and importantly, the science here is quite complex, and though well established, still growing – there is all to prove (or disprove) in an area that offers much in understanding ancient lives. The very rare chance to study an identified historical individual, with a good record, allows the science to be tested against  prior information.

By 1995, scientists had been analysing chemical isotopes (comparing the proportions of particular “forms” of different elements) in ancient human bone and teeth for some years. The idea was to identify aspects of diet (high in seafood, for example) or migration (eg a skeleton with radically different values from others in a cemetery might suggest an immigrant). But in that year a key paper took the research into a new area. A South African team proposed that by analysing different parts of a single skeleton, changes in diet and residency patterns might be observed occurring within a person’s lifetime. The principle was that different bones and teeth grow at varied rates or times, creating chemical signatures that relate to events in the individual’s life during those different growth episodes.

We saw this idea being exploited in the BBC TV series, Meet the Ancestors, when teeth analyses regularly indicated a surprising amount of movement around (or even beyond) the UK among people who had previously been assumed to have been pretty static. Judith Sealy and colleagues concluded their 1995 paper by saying, “It is sincerely to [be] hoped that, in the future, work such as this will have access to named individuals whose historically attested dietary histories may be checked against the chemical findings.” As Angela Lamb and Jane Evans (of the British Geological Survey) point out in the new study, examinations of known people remain scarce (off the top of my head, I can’t think of another one).

Even with anonymous people, such comprehensive studies with human remains are still quite rare. The authors of the new paper think only two large scale projects of this kind have been conducted in the UK. One concerned an extraordinary find in Dorset, where the bodies of around 50 decapitated men had been slung into a mass grave – stable isotope research by a team that included Jane Evans established they were Vikings, probably slaughtered by local Anglo-Saxons (the dig featured in British Archaeology May/Jun 2014/136).

What makes the new study particularly interesting is that while we can guess the king ate well, we knew little in detail about his diet (even if we have menus, can we be sure what the man actually ate?). And while we knew where he was born, and where he spent most of his life, there was apparently little information about his residency in childhood and early adult years. So we have a mixture of known and unknowns, with stuff to learn and test. The science is tricky (and the paper unfortunately poorly written and edited – try the very first sentence: “The discovery of the mortal remains of King Richard III provide an opportunity to learn more about his lifestyle, including his origins and movements and his dietary history; particularly focussing on the changes that Kingship brought.”). But keep an eye out, this will create much specialist interest, and further related studies and commentaries are likely.

Diagram modified after Lamb et al 2014, showing carbon and nitrogen isotope data from tooth and bone analyses among rural villagers from Wharram Percy (Yorkshire), clergy from Fishergate Priory (York), and Richard III. The axis from bottom left to top right is thought to represent a growing amount of fish protein in the diet: either there was something wrong with the sample, or one prior at Fishergate really liked his fish

Diagram modified after Lamb et al 2014, showing carbon and nitrogen isotope data from tooth and bone analyses among rural villagers from Wharram Percy (Yorkshire), clergy from Fishergate Priory (York), and Richard III. The axis from bottom left to top right is thought to represent a growing amount of fish protein in the diet: either there was something wrong with the sample, or one prior really liked his fish. The differences between the king’s rib (bone regenerates c every 2–5 years) and his teeth (fixed at childhood) and femur (bone at least 10 years old at death) are taken to indicate a higher consumption of fish late in life

References

Multi-isotope analysis demonstrates significant lifestyle changes in King Richard III”, by Angela Lamb, Jane Evans, Richard Buckley & Jo Appleby, Journal of Archaeological Science (August 2014)

Beyond lifetime averages: tracing life histories through isotopic analysis of different calcified tissues from archaeological human skeletons”, by Judith Sealy, Richard Armstrong & Carmel Schrire, Antiquity (1995)

The previously published peer-reviewed articles from this project are:

“‘The king in the car park’: new light on the death & burial of Richard III in the Grey Friars church, Leicester, in 1485”, Antiquity (May 2013)

The intestinal parasites of King Richard III”, The Lancet (September 2013)

The scoliosis of Richard III, last Plantagenet King of England: diagnosis and clinical significance”, The Lancet (May 2014)

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