Wednesday, 8 January 2014

The brilliance of using case studies

I study hillforts, they’re things on hills, or maybe not, (cf. this post) and there are really quite a lot of them.

Although it would be nice to include and investigate every single hillfort (and non-hillfort) site in Britain, the magnitude of this dataset renders it completely impossible. With over 3000[1] identified sites and many more than could, or should, be included, it would be difficult to merely list them, let alone conduct meaningful research using all of these sites. Instead, any research must be conducted with the use of case studies.

This may all seem fairly standard and straightforward – easy, right? You just pick your first case study as the ‘typical’ example for that time/place/region/culture etc etc, and use that as your patient zero[2], your starting point for comparison. However, one of the main motivating factors behind hillfort research (and indeed most archaeology) is that we don’t know what a typical hillfort actually was, or what this really means.

So how on earth do we pick our case studies? I don’t even know if I should be picking a site that’s on a hill or not. The beauty of archaeological case studies is that it actually doesn’t matter – you don’t need to pick a ‘typical’ site to make a meaningful comparison.

The ‘big-name’ hillfort that Iron Age archaeologists, and everyone else actually, always references is Danebury in Hampshire.


Danebury is not the biggest hillfort in Hampshire, let alone the southwest; it isn’t the most interesting; nor is it the most complex or even particularly typical of the area or period.[3] Is it however, one of the best-researched sites in Britain, of any age, which makes it a totally awesome case study. You can pretty much pick any other hillfort, and compare it to Danebury – whatever’s been researched somewhere else, it will have its research counterpart at Danebury.

It doesn’t matter if they don’t match, they probably won’t – but that gives you a brilliant indication of how well-travelled a certain artefact, or belief, or way of life was during the Iron Age. Britain in the Iron Age is beautifully regional (a big problem for another day, btw). It would take one person roughly 50 days (and that’s being fairly optimistic) to walk from Land’s End to John o' Groats [5]. And yeah, Danebury is not quite at Land’s End, but this country is quite big before the invention of cars and stuff (and things), so if you can match something between site A in Hampshire, and site B in East Anglia then it follows someone thought it was important enough to carry it that far, which is pretty useful information about life back in the day.

So Danebury may not be the best hillfort, but it’s totally awesome, because of how much we know about it, and all the exciting case studies you can build out of that knowledge.

More importantly, if you somehow don’t find this as exciting as I do, try Case-books instead. Sherlock Holmes has one.


[1] Seriously? Seriously.
[2] Wait, isn’t that zombies?
[3] Or the prettiest4, or the cleverest.
[5] The fact that I know this fact is more or less indicative of the fact that I’m planning on walking this.

Tuesday, 21 May 2013

What is it for?


Readers may have seen the news last week than a Maya temple in Belize has been destroyed. A road-building company, looking to use the raw materials for construction, destroyed a temple at the ancient city of Noh Mul. There was outrage in the media – how could they so flippantly destroy archaeology in this way?

But wait -- They are using their heritage (in an extremely roundabout way), to further their modern economy and infrastructure. Isn’t this, by definition, what cultural tourism is?

Is that all archaeology is nowadays – cultural tourism? Maybe its only worth (especially in the eyes of the government, perhaps), is the money that it contributes towards the economy. If this is true, if archaeology takes its worth from monetary gain, then the destruction of a temple to use its raw materials for new construction could yield greater financial results than if the archaeology remained untouched. In this era of financial incertitude, how well placed are we to criticise?


What about the ruins themselves – surely the point is that they hold some intrinsic value not connected with their financial implications.

Do they? Do old rocks matter? Why should we care? Would the world be any worse off without archaeology?
-- The answer is yes, and for two very big reasons.

1) Curiosity

Curiosity is how we learn, that I wonder if… I wonder why… moment that leads to something so much bigger. If we stopped questioning things, humanity wouldn’t advance. And sure, stop questioning archaeology, it’s just the past (it’s not, see point 2), but what would go next? History? Literature? Physics?

If we start clarifying that some questioning is irrelevant, is unimportant, then what disappears next? Without curiosity there is no human advancement, there is nothing.



2) Modern relevance

So what? you say, why does the past matter? We’ve all heard the adage – those who don’t know the past are doomed to repeat it, but archaeology is so much more than this. The opportunity to take part in an excavation offers a chance to get out of the office, to be part of a team, to do something with your hands and your body when so much of our lives are spent at desks, at computers.

Archaeology is relevant because of what ancient man managed to do. Just think about it – the Maya pyramid – it’s actually hard to imagine just how many man hours would have gone into creating that structure, in a time before JCBs and cranes, before machines. The community, and the organisation involved in building such structures can only be described as immense, and it’s a lesson we can learn today – how much greater things are together. There’s an infinity of things we can still learn from the past, and there always will be, because even if somehow we manage to dig up, to uncover everything about the past, we’ll still be able to question it, we’ll still be curious.

Archaeology matters, that’s the most important point, because these principles are applicable to every avenue of academic research and intellectual curiosity – when people stop caring, stop asking questions, that’s when humanity stops existing. The temple was important because of the dialogue it could create, and the physical link to the past that it embodied. That’s what we can’t allow archaeology to be destroyed – losing an archaeological site is like death, there is no return - it's lost forever. 

There are, of course, many things I have not said here about why the past is important, this is merely the tip of the iceberg, and just ask maritime archaeologists  (*cough*Titanic*cough) how vast they can be...

Monday, 13 May 2013

Experimental Archaeology


Last week as part of the Bank Holiday weekend open day at the MAA [1] in Cambridge, I spent a couple of extremely interesting, although unfortunately brief, hours doing some Experimental Archaeology.

Experimental Archaeology is where archaeologists get to have all the fun (I say this about everything, I realise, but I do just really love archaeology). It’s where archaeologists recreate items, methods, and techniques used in the past in order to understand them more. This shouldn’t be confused with historical re-enactment, or reconstruction.

Experimental Archaeology can range through any number of activities. You can re-create an adze based on archaeological examples, and use it to destroy your enemies chop down trees. The pattern of wear this creates on the blade, and the stress lines through the timber can then be compared to archaeological examples, to see if they match – if they do it’s a fairly safe assumption that the technology that’s been recreated is extremely similar to the ones used in the past.

This type of archaeology is most useful for prehistory when we don’t have written records detailing how people lived. Sometimes the only way to access that distant past is to try to recreate it, and see if the results are the same, or if our theories are even possible! It’s all well and good theorising about possible techniques, but completely useless to try them out and find that they are completely unviable or impractical.

At the museum last week they were attempting to understand how Ice Age people would have used animals to create clothing. This involved killing and skinning a muntjac deer, before removing the fat from the skin with flint, treating it with egg yolk (or the animal’s own brains!), and finally smoking the skin with oak, which contains aldehydes that seal the skin to prevent moisture from damaging and rotting it. And there you have it – a warm and cosy Ice Age cloak. Easy.

Two (fairly) recent projects are close to my own heart (and interests!):

1) Bronze Age Boat made in Falmouth

Using only tools and materials that would have been available in the Bronze Age, a team of archaeologists, boat-builders, and interested volunteers, have built a sea-worthy boat, which was launched earlier this year.



This was a hugely ambitious project, and it was so nice to see the launch head off without sinking! For more information, see their Facebook page.

2)  Earthwork in Wiltshire

Someone built a hillfort!! This is a project at Overton Down in Wiltshire [2], first created in 1960 when an earthwork was constructed in order to understand site formation (both in the original instance, and how similar ancient sites degraded into the remains we have left today). The project is designed to last 128 years in total.

 [3]

From the above image you can see that the structure of the earthwork decayed very quickly at first, rapidly reaching a state similar to many ancient earthworks in our landscape today – suggesting that such prehistoric sites reached their current conditions fairly soon after abandonment, and have existed in stasis ever since.

From these few quick examples it’s clear that the possibilities of Experimental Archaeology are endless and exciting, and I look forward to seeing what else archaeologists come up with (and the rest of the Overton Down project, if I live that long!).





[1] Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology – great museum, definitely worth a visit.
[2] Jewell, P. A. (ed.) 1963, The Experimental Earthwork on Overton Down, Wiltshire, 1960 (British Association for the Advancement of Science).

Monday, 29 April 2013

The archaeology of water


When people think of archaeology I’d wager that their first thought goes to digging a big hole in the ground (more or less). Whilst this is a huge part of archaeology (and arguably more fun than doing research in the library…), there’s just so much more. With the introduction of more modern and sophisticated types of technology, archaeologists are exploring the hidden past in new and exciting ways.

One of these ways is underwater, and the archaeology associated with watery contexts. First and foremost this can mean in the sea. History is full of sunken ships – the map below shows just a few of the ships sunk off the Cornish coast.


The advent of scuba diving means that archaeologists (and anyone else!) can dive much deeper and for longer, in order to investigate the history lying on the ocean floor. This is often called Maritime Archaeology, as it investigates the history of maritime activity, although this discipline encompasses much more than just shipwrecks. Underwater archaeology doesn’t have to mean that any thoroughness or accuracy of data collection is lost – the below photo is a brilliant example of dedication to accurate recording.


Of course, you don’t need a wetsuit and some scuba gear in order to find archaeology in the water. In prehistory it was common for metal items to be deposited in hoards – in either a watery context or buried in the earth [3]. It’s been suggested that hoards were the result of storing wealth for safe-keeping in times of trouble.

However, other hoards (especially those in water) are more likely to have been deposited for religious or ritual reasons; water will corrode metal – not great if you’re only trying to keep it safe. It’s also interesting to think about the similarities to Arthurian legend, and the story of the Lady of Lake offering Excalibur aloft – is this imagery a result of Iron Age hoarding and ritual deposition?

Another hotspot for submerged archaeology is rivers. The foreshore of the river Thames is the longest open-air archaeological site in London (when the tide is out), with much of this being freely accessible to the public. A fantastic project hosted by the Museum of London is the Thames Discovery Programme, which is attempting to map and record all the foreshore archaeology. The TDP have a great “Riverpedia” site, and anyone can volunteer to help observe and record (provided that the requisite training days have been attended), as well as join in on Guided Foreshore Walks.

I volunteered with the TDP for a couple of days, and it’s some of the best fun you can have in London for free. Click here for more information about the TDP, or the Nautical Archaeology Society. And the next time you’re talking about archaeology – remember it’s not just digging holes in the dirt!




[1] Image from http://www.cornwalls.co.uk/maps/shipwrecks.htm and if you’re walking along the SW coast path in Cornwall, there are several watch-stations that have much more information about wrecks in the area.
[2] Image from Wikipedia

Monday, 22 April 2013

The archaeology of film and fiction


The ancient world and archaeology are huge parts of our history, and so it follows that these aspects would bleed into other parts of our culture as well. The obvious film is Indiana Jones of course, and then there’s Tomb Raider and National Treasure; but I’m not just talking about films that feature archaeology as a major plot design. I’m talking about the more subtle uses – where films include archaeology in the background, as the heritage or culture of the world they have built for that specific film.

Archaeology is seen as something that links us to the past, and as such is created and incorporated into fiction in order to establish this connection and authenticate the history of the imagined world. One of the most famous movies where this is evident is Harry Potter.

Hogwarts grounds [1]

The grounds of Hogwarts have been created to include a stone circle. The fictional magical castle is located in Scotland, and stone circles are very common there (as they are in other parts of Britain). Why was this circle included? It seems to add an aura of history, of longevity and tradition to the site – it gives it credibility.

This is what fantasy films in particular lack – the depth of cultural history and tradition that is embedded within human history and society. Lord of the Rings is another excellent example of this. Tolkien was highly educated, and the richness of his imagination is evident in Middle Earth. Edoras, for example, is clearly a hillfort (in my opinion!), and it’s fun to see Tolkien’s reflection of this and his interpretation of how such a site would have been used and occupied.

Edoras [2]

The locations in Middle Earth all have rich histories associated with them, and many of the sites were influenced in Tolkien’s imagination by aspects of sites and buildings across England. It’s also encouraging that these world builders turn to archaeology in order to create their realities. I think this is a good sign for the perception of archaeology in terms of its relevance to popular culture and modern life - I hope this can be reflected in our political spheres as well.

At the other end of the spectrum is what might be termed ‘the archaeology of film sets’. Staying within the realm of science fiction/fantasy, the Star Wars saga offers us a beautiful example. The desert planet of Tatooine was filmed in the Tunisian desert, and the houses and other structures of the film set still sit in the desert today.

No More Stars © Rä di Martino [3]

The above photo is part of a collection at the Tate Modern called ‘Project Space: Ruins in Reverse’, thinking about the divide between archaeology, fiction and reality. Already they look like ‘credible’ archaeological ruins, all too easily mistaken for the actual remains of past civilisations. And in a way they are – archaeology is the physical remains of past societies, and the Star Wars movies do play their part in modern culture. It is also amusing to think what conclusions future archaeologists might come to when they stumble across the ruins in the future, after all knowledge of them has been lost.




[1] This photo was taken by me at the Harry Potter studios – it’s a small scale replica used in the filming of the movies.
[2] Photo from Lord of the Rings wiki.
[3] For more information, see here. Exhibition runs until the 24th June.