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Now that the December hullabaloo has died down, (what? You’re still celebrating??) January is traditionally a time for the holiday brochures to make an appearance, and cold evenings huddled around a fire are spent dreaming of the sunnier, warmer days of summer ahead, and how to spend them. If you’re not one of those who go flying off to foreign climes, but prefer to explore the ancient heritage of the British Isles in a so-called ‘Staycation’, you may well be looking for some ideas.
Luckily, our friends over at the Heritage Daily have recently been putting together a few ‘Top Ten’ lists which may inspire you.
Firstly to set the scene, a list of the Top Ten Archaeological Discoveries in 2013. Not so much here on places to visit, though my personal favourite ‘local’ henge at Norton in Hertfordshire is included here. Whilst there’s not that much to see on the ground at Norton, taking in the wider landscape of the ‘Baldock Bowl’ can reap some rewards, whilst a few miles away is the largest longbarrow in Hertfordshire, just outside Royston.
If stone circles are your ‘thing’, a list of the Top Ten Circles in Britain should provide plenty of inspiration. From Brodgar in the north, to Stanton Drew and Stonehenge in the south, all the major circles are here.
Hillforts seem to be coming under attack from developers lately (see our recent stories on Oswestry), so why not get out and see a few while they’re still relatively free of housing? The Top Ten Iron Age Hillforts list features some spectacular forts, from East Lothian in Scotland, down to the South Coast.
If your tastes verge toward the more ‘modern’ side of ancient heritage, the Top Ten Roman Forts list should do for you, though we’re straying outside our ‘mainly Pre-Roman’ remit here :-) As you’d expect, Hadrian’s Wall features prominently – if you’re a Romanist and haven’t walked it yet, I’m assured you’re missing out! But there are also shore forts from around the coast, so whichever part of the country takes your fancy, there should be something there for you.
So plenty there to get your travel plans under way, whether it be for a day trip, long weekend, or something a little longer. Why not tell us your plans for this year? Which sites are you hoping to see for the first time? Which old friends will you be revisiting? Let us know via the Comments.
A couple of months ago, we drove down to Salisbury to take a look at the experimental Neolithic houses being built by English Heritage in preparation for the new Stonehenge visitor’s centre.
Sadly, the buildings at Old Sarum were only ever designed as a temporary exhibit, to try out various ideas and techniques, and have now been demolished. The volunteers who worked so hard on the houses had kept a blog of the process, including covering the demolition and future possibilities, which is well worth reading.
Visitors to the experimental houses exhibit were encouraged to leave an email address where they could be contacted for a ‘later survey and feedback’, and it appears that time has now arrived. If you visited the houses at Old Sarum, but didn’t leave an email address, no matter. You can still take part in the survey, and as a thank you for your time you will be entered into a prize draw with the chance to win one of two cash prizes of £100.
All feedback will apparently be taken into consideration when the ‘real’ houses are reconstructed nearer to Stonehenge later this year. English Heritage have a page which explains the entire Neolithic Houses Project in detail.
English Heritage’s “Heritage Cycle”, published in their Research Strategy for Prehistory, neatly illustrates how awareness of heritage leads to care for heritage….
In the same document they quote the words of the All Party Parliamentary Archaeology Group that noted that prehistory doesn’t feature in the English school national curriculum and that “the UK is the only European state to neglect prehistory in this way” and that “Prehistory should be part of all national curricula“. We couldn’t agree more and it reminded us of what we think is a classic essay written for us by our member Tombo in 2004 soon after Heritage Action was formed. It’s worth publishing once again …
A heartfelt plea for “the myth of barbarism” to be lifted from our prehistory and for our ancient places to be given the care they deserve.
The stone circle of Tomnaverie, in Aberdeenshire, is a powerful symbol of the unhappy situation facing Britain’s rich prehistoric heritage. The builders of this majestic megalithic ring chose to position it like a crown on the head of the hill for which it is named: Tomnaverie, meaning ‘The Mound of the Fairies’. Yet despite the commanding location, the awe-inspiring views over the surrounding landscape and the impressive character of the stones themselves, Tomnaverie is the scene of an appalling tragedy.
As the twentieth century progressed, the Mound of the Fairies was slowly quarried away. Today, the quarrying has claimed so much of the hillside that the cliff-edges begin at the very limits of the stone circle itself, which can now only be reached by what one visitor described as “an ever-diminishing causeway of rock” (Julian Cope, The Modern Antiquarian). Many of the stones were deliberately thrown down (although now re-erected), at an unknown date, still others removed, and even those that remain are scarred and chipped.
Tomnaverie – see how insanely close to the stones the quarry is – during excavation. (Credit Peter Donaldson)
Kemp Howe stone circle, in Cumbria, similarly symbolises the wider context of its tragedy. This ring of beautiful, almost luminescent, pink-coloured stones are brutally bisected by a railway line, slightly over half of the circle completely obliterated beneath the embankment. It is a bizarre experience, to watch commuter-filled carriages hurtling at top speed through this battered beauty. The destruction could have been avoided altogether had the tracks only been laid a handful of yards away. It is as though the railway’s planners and builders did not even notice the circle’s presence.
Britain and Ireland are filled with places of this sort, where the monuments that meant so much to the people of the ancient world have been treated as nothing more than obstacles in the path of the modern world’s progress. Indeed, this website is entirely devoted to raising awareness of ancient sites that are, at this very moment, in danger of falling victim to similar circumstances. At least these places, unlike Tomnaverie, Kemp Howe and many other locations, can still be saved from damage and degradation, if we act now.
It is the purpose of this essay to enquire into the reasons why Britain’s ancient heritage so often faces these threats of wanton and unnecessary destruction. With so many prehistoric monuments at risk the main thrust of Heritage Action’s activities must, of necessity, be to deal with the problem symptomatically, tackling head-on specific threats to specific monuments. Yet it is also important that awareness is raised as to the underlying causes of the malaise, in the hope that the destruction might, in the future, be prevented from arising in the first place.
The myth of history
Humans and their ancestors (people who walked upright and gradually developed culture) have walked the earth for over three million years, yet I write these words in the year 2004. We number our years with reference to the birth of Jesus, dividing the past into BC, or Before Christ, and AD, or Anno Domini (Latin for In The Year Of Our Lord). Even when the more politically-correct terminology of CE and BCE (Common Era and Before The Common Era, respectively) is adopted, the division of the past into two portions remains, and with it the implication that one era, and by far the shorter one at that, is more significant than the other.
The original adoption of this method of numbering the years was very clearly an attempt to deliberately mislead. The nascent church, in a spirit of propagandist fervour, wished to imply that the times before the coming of Christianity were long ages of error, that the pre-Christian world was at best misguided, at worst actually evil. Even now that the church has lost much of its political and cultural power in Britain, our numbering of the years insidiously perpetuates its disregarding of the greater part of our past. A powerful but subtle deception endures.
A road slices through one end of Tregiffian Burial Chamber in Cornwall. (Credit Jane Tomlinson)
We similarly polarise the past every time we speak of ‘history’, a word which has ‘prehistory’ implicit in it. The word ‘history’ is derived from the same root as ‘story’, and in Middle English no distinction was made between the two. Whenever we mention ‘history’, we subtly imply that ‘prehistory’ was the time before the story began, of lesser importance than the story itself. It is interesting to note that in scholarly books about Britain’s past, the word ‘history’ usually refers to roughly the last two thousand years, just like Anno Domini or Common Era.
It might be argued that the influence of the church lingers on in the scholarly study of history. Academic knowledge, like that which is handed on in the history department of a modern university, is built up like the edifice of an ornate building, over many generations of scholars, each adding to the work of the last. Because Britain’s earliest native historians were monks, like Gildas or Bede, there may be some merit in the view that history’s academic architecture rests upon Christian foundations that exert a fundamentally Christian influence on the entire structure.
Yet this can only be the beginning of the story, because most contemporary historians have no overtly Christian axe to grind. Moreover, they try to cultivate a keen awareness of the biases inherent in all historical sources, particularly those that were so obviously created within the context of a rigidly religious world-view. The Christian foundations of our scholarly edifice may exert some degree of malign influence on our understanding of the past, but they are by no means the sole cause of the dismissal that is implied by the terminology of ‘history’ and ‘prehistory’.
The written word
The foremost definition of the word ‘history’ given in the Oxford English Dictionary is “continuous methodical record of public events”. Implicit in this definition is the notion that history is, by its very nature, a written phenomenon. After all, how else is a ‘continuous methodical record’ to be kept? Most of the sources from which historians learn about the past are written, because the written word can establish the facts of history with an apparent certainty that no other medium offers. Writing preserves the stories of history in the words of those who actually witnessed them.
Although the Ogham, Runic and Greek alphabets were not unknown in prehistoric Britain, they were not at all widely used. Before the arrival of the Romans, in 43 CE, the written sources that usually inform the study of history simply did not exist here. There is a sense, then, in which the term ‘prehistory’ simply refers to the time before the ‘continuous methodical record of public events’ began. Although this shows ‘prehistory’ to be a far less sinister term than ‘Before Christ’, it does not alter the fact that it rings in most ears as a dismissal: ‘before the story started’.
The Leys of Marlee Stone Circle, near Blairgowrie. How easy it would’ve been for the road to avoid the circle! (Credit Andy Sweet)
The ‘methodical record of public events’ might only have begun with writing, but the story of our collective past is far deeper and older. Indeed, most historians would be the first to acknowledge this, and also to point out that much can be known of the times before writing. Yet our culture’s dismissal of the pre-literate past is undeniable. The space on any school timetable devoted to the study of pre-literate times is as nothing when compared to that spent teaching the written history of the Common Era. Most children leave school without ever hearing the name Silbury.
It might be argued that this is as it should be, that it is entirely right that at least three million years of ‘prehistory’ should be skimmed over in only a handful of pages at the beginning of our history books, that the last two thousand years of ‘history’ are more relevant to our situation today. But then a convincing argument can also be made for the lessons of ‘prehistory’ having more relevance to the modern world than those which ‘history’ offers. Who is to decide which has more merit, and why must the decision be made? Would it not be better to fully inform our children of the entire past?
The multitudinous books on the subject of pre-literate Britain demonstrate that abundant enough material could be found to rectify this imbalance in the nation’s education. The absence of writing does not mean that we do not know enough of those times to describe them to our children in far fuller detail than the oversimplified and distorted outline which is currently on offer in our schools. There is an abundance of evidence from which we can learn of pre-literate times, the numerous monuments that Heritage Action exists to protect foremost in this cultural legacy.
The myth of civilisation
There is a tacit assumption, in our culture, that civilisation is altogether a good thing. Our leaders speak of Western societies as “the civilised world” sharing “civilised values”, referring to their enemies as “the enemies of civilisation”. It is considered high praise to be referred to as ‘very civilised’, and conversely a grave insult to be told that your behaviour is ‘uncivilised’. Civilised, to most people, is synonymous with words like cultured, polite and intelligent. Uncivilised, conversely, is popularly identified with terms such as barbaric, thuggish and ignorant.
The latest edition of the Oxford English Dictionary defines civilisation as “an advanced stage or system of human social development”. The word originates in the Latin civis, meaning ‘city dweller’, which is also the ancestor of our word ‘city’. Despite the dictionary’s vagueness as to the exact nature of this “advanced stage or system”, it is safe to say that the defining characteristic of civilisation is urban life. Cities, so the story goes, are only possible in societies where people’s social skills are sufficiently highly evolved to enable them to live peacefully with large numbers of other people.
The Broad Stone, Dorset. Once part of a stone circle, not quite destroyed but forgotten in the wake of the A35. (Credit Jamie Stone)
The word civilisation, then, implies that the people of non-urban societies are under-developed, immature, uncooperative and anti-social. Indeed, the Romans originally began to refer to themselves as civis out of a smug sense of cultural superiority. It was a word they used to set themselves apart from those who they looked down on as primitive, the ‘barbarians’ who they believed to be too socially backward to live in cities. Civilisation is truly a xenophobic word, both born of and perpetuating a divisive us-and-them mentality.
The British empire in India attempted to disguise its true purpose, the acquisition of land, natural resources and power, with high-sounding talk of a “civilising mission”. Its missionaries made the same claim in Africa, as did the conquistadors in South America, and a legion of other servants of Empire all over the world. The concept of civilisation first came to Britain in exactly the same way: as Roman imperial propaganda designed to denigrate and disregard the ‘savage’ pre-Roman world by implying that the invaders had saved us from barbarism.
The relevance of this to our culture’s dismissal of the pre-literate, prehistoric past is clear. Historians believe civilisation to have arrived in Britain at the same time as both writing and history: with the Roman invasion. Indeed, the 1994 Merriam-Webster Collegiate Dictionary defines civilisation as “the stage of cultural development at which writing and the keeping of written records is attained “. It seems more than coincidental that our ‘civilised’ society should undervalue its pre-literate past. Those times are also said to be before civilisation, when people are believed to have been brutal and barbaric.
The myth of barbarism
The Roman dismissal of Britain’s pre-Roman past became entrenched ever more deeply in our culture by long centuries of Christianity and persists to this day. It is still the popularly-held belief that the people of pre-Roman Britain were in some way subhuman, animalistic, ape-like (although there’s nothing wrong with being an animal or an ape). Within a few years of the Roman invasion, the social climbers amongst the indigenous population were dressing in Roman clothes, living in Roman-style houses and learning Latin. ‘Roman’ quickly became synonymous with ‘fashionable’.
Barbarism is said to be the absence of civilisation, and the 1949 Oxford English Dictionary defines civilise as “bring out of barbarism”. It derives, via the Latin barbaria (which refers to a country of barbarians), from the Greek word barbaros, meaning ‘foreign, strange, ignorant’. Etymological dictionaries suggest that its ‘bar-bar’ sound was likely to have originated as a mocking imitation of the ‘unintelligible’ speech of foreigners. There is, then, no need for shame in the face of our ‘barbarian’ past: the word barbarian is every bit as xenophobic as civilisation.
A cairn near the famous Callanish on the Isle of Lewis – cut in half by a road. (Credit Andy Sweet)
The slanders that are heaped upon the ‘barbarian’ need to be recognised as the racist slurs that they are. The absence of cities in pre-Roman Britain does not mean that people were anti-social or uncooperative, just as the presence of cities does not demonstrate their ability to live together in perfect harmony. Silbury Hill, described in full elsewhere on this website, is but one spectacular fruit of mass cooperation in pre-urban Britain, whilst the ruthless empire-building of the city-dwelling Romans can hardly be described as either cooperative or sociable.
The absence of civilisation, barbarism, is popularly thought to imply a higher level of violence than that which is found amongst ‘civilised’ people. To modern ears, the word ‘barbarian’ conjures images of muscle-bound, small-brained, sword-wielding savages. Yet there is no evidence at all to suggest that the presence of cities makes a society either more or less violent. Pre-urban Britain was sometimes a violent place, just as it can be today, but then the city-dwelling Romans, with their love of war, crucifixion and the amphitheatre, can hardly be described as a pacifist people.
The idea that pre-literate, barbarian Britain lacked both intelligence and culture because it lacked writing is another popular misconception. Even Caesar wrote with some degree of awe about the sophisticated education of Britain’s Druids, who each memorised a rich oral tradition in its entirety during their twenty years of training. He remarked: “they consider it improper to entrust their studies to writing… [in case] the student should rely on the written word and neglect the exercise of his memory”. Writing was used only for mundane, usually financial, matters.
Britain is filled with prehistoric monuments whose builders could only have been intelligent, thoughtful, patient, inspired, skilful, cooperative and knowledgeable, amongst many other admirable qualities. The sheer scale of monuments like Silbury, Avebury, Stonehenge, Stanton Drew, The Ring of Brodgar and Callanish demonstrate, to begin with, that their builders were materially secure and optimistic about their future. Those who are engaged in a struggle for survival cannot devote the labour of so many to monument-construction without starving to death, their works left unfinished.
The builders of ancient monuments had a highly sophisticated sense of aesthetics. The beauty of their constructions enthrals us to this day, delighting the painter, poet, photographer, musician and film-maker alike. More than being beautiful in their own right, however, the positioning of these monuments reveals an exquisite sensitivity to the aesthetics of landscape. The Castlerigg stone circle, for instance, stands at the centre of a vast, natural amphitheatre, majestic hills towering in a stately ring around it, utterly spectacular scenery that attracts hundreds of visitors every summer’s day.
Other sites reveal the locations from which landscape features take on human forms. At the Callanish standing stones, for example, on the Hebridean Isle of Lewis, the hills on the horizon conspire to form the shape of a recumbent female figure, who has long been known locally as the Cailleach na Monteach (‘hag of the moors’, who is also known as Sleeping Beauty). The various monuments of the Callanish complex all reveal different aspects of Sleeping Beauty’s character: from one stone circle she appears to be pregnant, for instance, whilst at another site she is cradled between two hills like a tiny baby.
‘Sleeping Beauty’ on the horizon nearly fills this picture. Her head is on the right – she’s lying on her back. Nose, breasts, pubic mound, and legs all clearly defined. (Credit: Tim Clark)
Once every nineteen years, as seen from the main avenue at Callanish, the Moon rises out of Sleeping Beauty’s heart and dances eastward along the horizon, barely rising into the sky at all. It sets just short of the main Callanish circle itself, but reappears a moment later through a notch in the horizon, the pale light shivering out from the very centre of the ring. The Moon is a notoriously erratic celestial object, and this spectacular drama can only be made to unfold from a very particular location. Careful scientific observation and an inspired artistic eye were both essential to the positioning of Callanish.
Further examples of this sort of monumental art and science abound, from the Cumbrian stones known as the Giant’s Grave, which reveal a sleeping giant in hills called Black Combe, to Stonehenge’s famous alignment on the midsummer sunrise. These places are far too numerous to detail fully here, and I recommend Julian Cope’s The Modern Antiquarian to those wishing to learn more of them. Suffice it to say that the legacy of the megalith-builders reveals them to have been skilled artists, astronomers, mathematicians, engineers and much more.
Why has the ring of Tomnaverie been all but ruined by quarrying that could have taken place elsewhere? Why have the railway tracks at Kemp Howe obliterated over half of the stone circle, when the destruction could have been avoided by laying them a few yards away? Why has Silbury Hill been in danger of collapse for nearly four years now, as I write these words, when the damage could have been repaired? Why are the Thornborough Henges in imminent danger of suffering the same senseless fate as Tomnaverie?
Kemp Howe Stone Circle – some of its stones are believed to still be under the railway embankment
Our prehistoric heritage is desperately undervalued. If it were Canterbury Cathedral, and not Silbury Hill, that were at risk of collapse then the structure would have been made sound long ago. The comparison is very relevant: Silbury has a clear historical importance in terms of both national and world heritage, and is of central significance to the spirituality of many thousands of people in both modern Britain and the world at large, as it was in the ancient past. In the face of such unequal treatment our culture’s undervaluing of its prehistoric heritage is hard to deny.
This essay has argued that the many dangers facing Britain’s ancient monuments, and also much of the damage already done, are symptomatic of a wider problem in our understanding of the past. I have attempted to give what I see as the reasons for the tragic disregarding of the greater part of our past. I have pointed out what I believe to be prejudices in the way our culture views the people of prehistory. I have traced what I see as the historical causes of these prejudices, arguing that they originated in the Roman empire and were perpetuated and deeply embedded in our culture by the Christian church.
I am by no means the first to suggest this, and these arguments have been gradually taking root in our cultural consciousness over recent years, awareness spreading with the popular books and television programmes by authors like Julian Cope (The Modern Antiquarian) and Francis Pryor (Britain BC). A re-evaluation of our past may be underway, and it is possible that soon the judgemental measuring up of prehistoric Britain’s culture using the distorted Roman standard of civilisation will be ended. In the mean-time prejudices persist, and we who care must take all the action that we can to protect our past.
Out there on the heath, hidden from the city-centres, our precious ancient heritage stands forgotten, ignored and, all too often, endangered. It is our heritage, and it belongs to us all. If it is to be saved then awareness and action are the duties of each and every one of us. Are we to sit indoors whilst the quarrymen and road-builders draw up their plans, unaware of our loss even when we are robbed? Will we always write off the majority of human beings to have ever lived as uncivilised barbarians? Are we to be dispossessed, or educated and empowered?
The rest is up to you.
Tombo – May 2004
For those looking to take an interest in our ancient past, now is the time to enrol for courses beginning in October. Those who do not have the time for a full time course but are interested in furthering their knowledge of pre-Roman Britain may be interested to know that the University of Exeter are offering a range of online distance-learning Archaeology courses. None of the below are ‘credit-bearing’, so will not count towards a formal certification, but there is enough material in each of the 20-week courses to provide a solid foundation for more formal studies.
“An introduction to prehistory, discussing common perceptions of this age and showing how archaeology can tell us how prehistoric man lived. This online course introduces students to prehistoric archaeology in Britain, and covers the Mesolithic, Neolithic, Bronze Age and Iron Age.”
“This course will cover the Neolithic period in Britain and Ireland, broadly between 4500BC – 2000BC. The course first sets the scene with a summary of the previous Mesolithic Hunter Gatherer lifestyles and the development of farming which reached Britain around 4100BC and started slightly earlier in Ireland.”
“This online course introduces students to the Bronze Age in Britain (2500-700BC), a time when the stone-working inhabitants first learnt and developed the skills of refining metal for tools and other objects.”
“This online course explores the Iron Age in Britain, from 700BC until the arrival of the Romans in AD43. We will begin with a look at the Late Bronze Age (LBA) and consequent Iron Age as concepts, their chronology in terms of current research, and some discussion of the ‘Celts’, before a short overview of the LBA background and changes in landscapes and societies in this period.”
All the above courses commence on the 8th October, run for 20 weeks of study with a mid-winter break (15 for the Neolithic course), and cost £145 each – the price of 3 or 4 pints per week. Other courses at Exeter cover later periods such as the Roman and Viking eras.
If you know of similar online courses, or have experience of attending such a course, please let us know in the comments.
Experimental archaeology employs a number of different methods, techniques, analyses, and approaches in order to generate and test hypotheses, based upon archaeological source material, like ancient structures or artifacts. It should not be confused with primitive technology which is not concerned with any archaeological or historical evidence. Living history and historical reenactment, which are generally undertaken as a hobby, are the layman’s version of this academic discipline.
One of the main forms of experimental archaeology is the creation of copies of historical structures using only historically accurate technologies. This is sometimes known as reconstruction archaeology; however, reconstruction implies an exact replica of the past, when it is in fact just a construction of one person’s idea of the past; the more archaeologically correct term is a working construction of the past.
A popular construct of experimental archaeology is one in which our ancestors spent a lot of their time: the Roundhouse. Various designs, from different time periods have been used, from the Bronze Age through to the post-Roman Saxon period. Comparing some of the efforts, it sometimes seems that the only common factor in the design is the ’round’ shape!
Many of these efforts can be visited by the public, others are ‘locked away’, only available for private hire, or no longer exist.
Anglesey – Llynnon Mill
Completed in 2007 these two reproduction Late Bronze Age/Early Iron Age Roundhouses now form part of a living museum on the Llynnon Mill site near the village of Llanddeusant on Anglesey. Open from Easter to late September, an admission charge applies.
Cambridgeshire – Flag Fen
Two roundhouses here, one Bronze Age, the other Iron Age within the Flag Fen Archaeology Centre grounds near Peterborough. Admission charges apply.
In 2002, students from the Ridge Danyers Sixth Form College were involved in a European Community Culture Programme, The Mnesonyme Project, to reconstruct an Iron Age Roundhouse on the site, which remains in place, providing an evocative reminder of how the area might have looked during this period. Accessibility is currently unknown.
Cornwall – Bodrifty
The Roundhouse is an “authentic and atmospheric replica, based on the largest (‘Hut A”) in the scheduled Bodrifty Iron Age Settlement just three fields away. The construct is available for let as a holiday home with a difference!
Dorset – Ancient Technology Centre, Cranborne
The Iron Age roundhouse here had stood for 26 years, but last year (2011) the decision was made to
rebuild it. Thatching was due to be completed earlier this summer and the new building should now be
available for use once again. Also on site are 5 other ancient building reconstructions, including a
Viking Longhouse and Neolithic Log Cabin.
Essex – Hadleigh Country Park
Since 2000, the Country Park at Hadleigh has run a ‘living education’ programme based on the Saxons –
Hadleigh is of Saxon origin meaning “clearing in the heath”. Site staff wanted to expand this work to cover other periods in history and at the same time provide a much-needed building to give school groups a sheltered working environment. Many options were considered, but the wish to build something dramatic and unique to the county led to the proposal to build a replica Iron Age roundhouse.
Hadleigh’s roundhouse is based on a floor plan from an archaeological excavation at Little Waltham,
Hampshire – Butser Farm
Ever since Butser Ancient Farm has been running, there has always been a ‘great’ round house, based on an archaeological excavation. The first one was on Butser Spur, set up in 1972, based on a house named ‘The Balksbury House’ from Balksbury Camp, an Iron Age plateau enclosure situated on the outskirts of Andover. In 1976 a second site, known as ‘The Pimperne House’ and based on an excavation on Pimperne Down, Dorset was started in the valley bottom nearby, at Hillhampton Down. This was dismantled in 1990. In 1991 the project moved to the Bascomb Down Site, where it still continues. The Longbridge Deverel House’, built in 1992 was based on an excavation at Cowdown, in Wiltshire. The house was dismantled in 2006. In 2007 work started on ‘The Little Woodbury House’ (House1) from Britford, near Salisbury, Wiltshire.
Oswestry – Park Hall
In 2009 a reproduction of an Iron Age roundhouse was built at Park Hall to complement the development of the nearby Old Oswestry Iron Age Hillfort. Visitors can view the Roundhouse and its interior at any time (Admission fee to the park applies). Interpretation boards and artefacts offer an insight to the life of Iron Age people.
Pembrokeshire – Castell Henllys
Castell Henllys (Welsh, “castle of the old court”) is an important archaeological site in north Pembrokeshire, Wales, between Newport and Cardigan. This Iron Age hillfort has been the subject of an ongoing excavation for more than twenty years, accompanied by an exercise in reconstruction archaeology whereby experiments in prehistoric farming have been practised. Four roundhouses and a granary have been reconstructed on their original Iron Age foundations.
If you have a favourite replica roundhouse, why not leave a comment and tell us about it? And if you’re visiting one of the sites above, or anything similar this month, please fill in our brief survey.
With the DigVentures project in full swing, I felt it was time to pay Flag Fen a personal visit and see what was going on there for myself. We set out from London early on Saturday morning, and arrived just in time for public opening (10:00am) to find the car park full to bursting!
Inside the visitor centre, the staff were friendly and helpful, sorting out a electric scooter for my partner, who was then able to join me on my perambulation around the site. A tour group were preparing, and I spotted Brendan Wilkins (Project Director of DigVentures) and said hello. He explained that questions were welcomed on site, the many volunteers (Venturers) being only too happy to explain what was going on in the various trenches and test pits. Raksha Dave (Project Manager, DigVentures) was also there, and I told her how her response to our ‘Inside the Mind’ series is one of our most visited pages here on the Journal, which pleased her immensely. Also in the building was Francis Pryor, discoverer of the Flag Fen site, who was leading a special organised morning tour.
Having had a cup of tea and brief chat with Raksha and Lisa Wescott-Wilkins (Managing Director of DigVentures), we headed out onto the fen grounds to see for ourselves what was going on. The field school for the project runs from 23rd July – 12th August, so two weeks into the project, the trenches and test pits are well established.
The first (main) trench is to the south-east of the site, across the line of the wooden causeway. As I approached, one of the diggers was showing some recent finds from the trench to a young family including a 7-year old girl who was fascinated by the archaeology on show – a future YAC member perhaps? Post holes, and other features including the line of the main causeway were pointed out and explained, and a lot of hard work was obviously being undertaken in the background by the Venturers.
I moved on to the nearby test pit, where discussions were under way on the best way to possibly lift some of the fragile timbers which have been exposed by the excavation.
After a look inside the Preservation Hall, which includes a display of some of the finds from the area along with some interesting interpretation boards, we’d hoped to look at the second trench, but this was covered by a tent which was closed off, so we moved on to look at the reconstructed Bronze Age roundhouse, which had obviously been used by the Venturers for some evening entertainment judging by the lingering smell of wood smoke, which all made it very evocative of a much earlier time.
At this point, disaster struck as my camera batteries refused to function any further! Added to this, the next part of the route around the site across the arena and alongside the mere, was all ‘off path’, and quite dangerous for the electric scooter which dipped and tilted several times on the uneven ground – a warning for any other disabled visitors hoping to visit this part of the site.
Outside the Iron Age roundhouse, another reconstruction showing the difference in styles between the two ages, was another test pit. This was much deeper than the first we saw, attempting to find the edge of a ‘platform’ which the causeway crosses. Unfortunately, nothing has yet been found in this pit and we moved on to the site museum.
Unfortunately, it looked as if many of the interpretation boards and displays were being updated and replaced, which is good news for future visitors who will have much better access to the latest information. Outside the museum is a reconstructed Roman Herb Garden, sited on the path of a Roman Road which runs alongside the much earlier wooden causeway.
Having finished most of our circumnavigation of the site (but missing the Big Dig Tent! How did that happen?) we headed back to the main visitor centre, and just in time as the heavens opened with a downpour of biblical proportions! Trapped in the visitor centre, we undertook some retail therapy and took the opportunity to ask Francis Pryor to sign a copy of his 2005 book about the site, Flag Fen: Life and Death of a Prehistoric Landscape. In turn, he took the opportunity to mention his more recent e-book about the site, Flag Fen: A Concise Archæoguide, so we came out even on that one :-)
Eventually the storm broke, and we returned to the car, wondering about the possible damage done to the trenches by such a downpour which had partially flooded the carpark in the space of some 10-15 minutes.
So what did we bring away from the site? An admiration for the dedication and enthusiasm of all the volunteers and amateur archaeologists taking part, many taking part in a dig for the very first time. A perception that crowdfunding really can work as a concept. And the realisation that every excavation, though essentially destructive by it’s very nature, can add to our knowledge of the distant past. That’s especially true in the case of Flag Fen as so little of the site has been fully excavated, and while the site is slowly drying out, the irretrievable loss of further knowledge this would cause is a very real possibility. Did you know that the earliest recorded wheel was found at Flag Fen, purely because of the anaerobic conditions found in the wetlands there? What else can the site tell us before it’s too late?
Do visit the DigVentures and Flag Fen web sites (see links above) for more information, and try to get along to the site for a personal visit that I think you’ll find both educational and rewarding.
Found primarily west of the Hayle River in Cornwall, and on the Isles of Scilly, Courtyard Houses as a ‘type’ have been recognised by that name since about 1933. They date from the Iron Age and were in use for several hundred years, through the Romano-British period.
Each house follows a distinctive design: a paved entrance into an area with 4 or sometimes 5 distinct ‘rooms’ leading off it. Anti-clockwise from the entrance, these are usually: a small round room, a long narrow room (sometimes divided into two), a large round room opposite the entrance, often containing a fire hearth, and finally a bay area. There may also be a smaller oblong ‘storage’ room next to the entrance. The central ‘courtyard’ also often includes a stone water channel, usually paved over. The outer walls are often quite thick in places, and the overall shape of each house is an oval.
Whilst each house is unique, they all conform to this general basic pattern, allowing some suppositions to be made about their construction and use.
The large round room is accepted as a general living room, used for food preparation, dining and sleeping. The long narrow room is usually quoted as stabling for livestock (which I personally doubt – some of the rooms are far too narrow), and the bay area may have been covered by a lean-to roof, again for livestock shelter. In excavations, very few finds have been found that were not concentrated in the large round room, or immediately adjacent to it.
In many of the large round rooms, as well as a fire hearth, hollowed out stones have been found. It has been suggested that these are either quern stones for grinding, or the base for a supporting pole for the roof.
Whilst the perceived wisdom is that the side rooms would have been roofed, and the central courtyard open to the air, Jacqui Wood (Cornish Archaeology 1997) put forward a theory that the entire structures may have been covered with a single roof, and raises the possibility of an upper floor gallery.
The houses usually occur in settlements rather than singly, and many are accompanied by a ‘fogou’; a Cornish Soutterain or underground passage. At Carn Euny, the main fogou is accompanied by a spectacular beehive hut storeroom and is entered from the main house of the settlement. At Chysauster the fogou is set downhill a short distance from the nearest house.
There are as many as 40 possible settlements in Penwith alone, several of which are disputed or destroyed. Carn Euny and Chysauster have been excavated are both open to the public.
A week ago we asked Wiltshire Council to reassure the torch planners at Locog that pausing for a moment at Silbury would involve no difficulty whatsoever. We’ve heard nothing so we’ve sent this :
Dear Councillor Scott,
The Olympic torch and Wiltshire’s heritage
Are you yet able to reply? There is still time to arrange a short pause at Silbury and here’s proof, a major climb down by Locog after complaints by councillors in Saltash and Plymouth. If they can achieve a huge late change like that surely you can secure a laughably miniscule one at Silbury?
It is becoming daily more evident that other counties are siezing the chance to use the torch to proudly showcase their heritage places. So it’s frustrating that (apart from Stonehenge, only recently added to the route) Wiltshire is set to ignore it’s defining attribute, it’s prehistoric heritage, to the extent that next Wednesday the plan is for the torch to be driven in a closed vehicle straight past the incomparable Silbury Hill at 60 miles an hour! It’s hard to see how that is consistent with stimulating Wiltshire’s economy and tourism.
May we therefore enquire whether you have made further representations to the organisers in the last few days, as we requested? We look forward to hearing from you.
By Graham Orriss
A few years back, at one of our excellent Summer Megameets, one of the regular attendees led a guided walk for a few of us to what my memory recalls was a cairn circle, not half an hour’s walk (it may have been a lot quicker – I don’t remember!) from Avebury’s main, enormous circle.
As we emerged from the trees, through a gate and into a field, I was amazed that, although I’d been to Avebury dozens of times previously, I’d never seen – or even heard of – this fairly large and prominent feature! Ok, it’s off the beaten track, but just next to a footpath, so close to the massively visited main circle, and extremely easily accessible.
Checking the map, and attempting to retrace the route we took, I believe it was this one: Penning, or Avebury Down Stone Circle.
Avebury is full of these “hidden in plain sight” gems. I remember gleefully pointing out The Longstone Cove (aka Adam & Eve) to some friends who’d also previously visited the area many times, but overlooked these extremely-obvious-when-you-know stones each time they drove past (as we did for ages before discovering them!) When one becomes aware of these sites, it makes you wonder how you ever missed them in the first place, as they now seem so conspicuous.
Another example is Rempstone stone circle, which, to be fair, is largely hidden in the trees, but at least one stone is (or at least was!) completely visible as you drive past. Again, once you know it’s there, it’s hard NOT to notice it. Not far up the road toward the Sandbanks-Poole chain ferry is the Studland stone row. Another one that is easy to drive straight past until you know it’s there and realise how visible it is.
The same applies to Nine Stones of Winterbourne Abbas, except this time it’s right beside an extremely busy stretch of road, and must be passed by hundreds – if not thousands – of cars every single day. I don’t know how obvious they are to the everyday passer-by, but I still remember seeing them for the first time (way before the trees were chopped down) and being amazed we’d not noticed them before. And then, just a mile up the road, is the almost completely buried Broadstone.
Ancient sites are prolific in certain parts of the country, but in others are not so. Many times have I been searching for a site in vain, only to ask a local if they are aware of the whereabouts, and the local is unaware of the existence until that conversation! Sometimes its’ existence is a lot more obvious than others but if the locals don’t even know of these places (presumably they take them for granted as they see them every day or have grown up with them) is it likely a visitor will pick up on it as it stands out more to them? Or does it just blend so well into the background that it’s not obvious until it’s pointed out?
How many other ancient sites are there that we walk past on a regular basis, that we have no idea existed until someone else points them out, which are now – as far as we’re now concerned! – impossible to miss?