Portable antiquity

 

Glancing down whilst walking the edge of a ploughed field on the ridge of the Kimmeridge Bowl, something caught my eye. A prehistoric flint scraper. Common in the tool kit of the Neolithic farmers who first settled Purbeck. This example appears well worn, with signs of damage, possibly both ancient and plough. As finds go, flint is a particular favourite of mine, it feels such a personal artefact. That feeling of being the first soul to handle a prehistoric flint since the person who probably crafted it never dulls. I'll record it under Portable Antiquity Scheme; an item like this may seem insignificant, though it adds to our broader understanding of our ancestors who walked this land before us.

Boiling mound

 

Thought to be Bronze Age in date 2500BC to 700BC there are in excess of 1600 boiling mounds or burnt mounds in the New Forest, mounds of severely fractured burnt flint. It's believed they're the result of heated stones placed in wooden troughs or leather bags filled with water, in order to.....?  Well, it could be to cook with, or brew, or tan, for a sweat lodge, or for all  manner of things domestic, or the prehistorians catch all, ritual. There was some research into Irish burnt mounds suggesting they were used in the textile production process. This mound, 4m or so in diameter, has a narrow path cutting through it, creating a natural sondage clearly showing the burnt flint deposit in section, a nice cross section of the entire feature, from the thin covering horizons down to the prehistoric ground surface the it sits on. Nice.

Spy Holms Barrow

 

The forest is peppered with prehistoric Bronze Age barrows, 200 or so, cremation depositories for the elite class of the communities that shaped the open heath of the forest we see today. Many have been badly degraded by time, the elements and subsequent activities of man and beast, their height slighted, now their ditched filled; once though they'd have stood proud, socially important markers in the prehistoric landscape.

Spy Holms barrow

There are four Bronze Age barrows (two loose pairs) on Spy Holms, roughly dating from around 2000 to 1500 BC, of which the barrow in the photo would've been the biggest. Although centuries of forestry have no doubt destroyed many, there are still 2000 or so Bronze Age barrows surviving on the New Forest's heaths.  We have the builders of these barrows, and their Neolithic forebears, to thank for the landscape we see today. It was they who originally cleared the land for farming, only to find the soils too poor to sustain agriculture, though perfect for the development of heathland. It's difficult to identify which type of barrow it originally was, thousands of years of the elements and wildlife have somewhat slighted what must have been a substantial and important burial mound, though I'd suggest it was a bowl barrow. 

 

 

Bratley Plain barrow (one of)

Above is one of a cluster of seven Bronze Age Barrows which themselves form part of the larger and well dispersed Bratley Plain Barrow cemetery. This barrow is one of the better preserved of the group, at about 7m wide, and reduced by time and robbing/'excavation' from it's original height to about 1m or.  In the centre of the mound is an irregular hollow, evidence of the earlier robbing/'excavation'. The mound would've been surrounded by a ditch which is now for the most part filled with debris excavated from the mound, with only a small partially filled section remaining visible. There are in excess of 400 barrows remaining across the new forest suggesting a sizeable Bronze Age population.

Lineage in the landscape

Landscape tells the story of our collective journey through the ages via a myriad of individual stories played out and memorialised on it's surface. And it's everywhere. This morning birds flocked fresh furrows as a farmer tilled his field to a fine tilth; the crest of the field is crowned by two fine large Bronze Age round barrows, even after 4000 years of weathering remaining striking features in the terrain. As we passed below the field the fresh furrows channelled my view directly towards a barrow, highlighting a direct linage in the landscape. These barrows were put here by successful farming communities; settled farming communities that even by the Bronze Age had worked these fertile soils for 2000 years (older Neolithic long barrows are commonplace in these parts). That's 6000 years of uninterrupted farming so far....and counting. I thought, if you could raise one of these ancient farmers, once you'd stopped them freaking out, they'd understand exactly what was going on, they'd recognise farming as the fundamentals have changed little. Cool, eh. 

Separately, as we returned home listening to the radio, blah blah climate crisis, financial crisis, corona crisis, death doom blah blah and so on, just for a moment I was in the opening sequence of one of those epic apocalyptic disaster movies. Strange days.

And did those feet?

And did those feet in ancient time, walk upon England's mountains green? You bet they did, and they left plenty of traces of their passing by too. England's quite small really, so it's no surprise that the landscape is so abundant in the relics of foregone times. Again today we found ourselves walking the rural byways of Dorset and as if to perfectly illustrate my opening statement, through time. We parked up at the Kingston Lacy end of the 700 tree Beech Avenue created in 1835; past the Bronze Age round barrows of King Down (above); on past a really rare Romano-British barrow (35m diameter and 6m high, surrounded by a partially filled ditch); on past the architecturally fantastic farm buildings of Hemsworth with it's origins in the 16th century; past the earthen remains of a an earlier medieval settlement, listed as Hemedeswordes in the Doomsday Book; past the site of a 4th Century Roman Villa famed for it's fine mosaics; past woodland hiding the foundations of wartime accommodation; across the World War Two airfield of Tarrant Rushton from where, on D-Day, the gliders took off for the famous attack on Pegasus Bridge, the first allied troop in occupied Europe; along the Ackling Dyke Roman Road; below the ramparts of the majestic Iron Age hillfort of the Durotriges, Badbury Rings; and finally back to where we began. And that doesn't take into account the history I don't know, or that which remains hidden. A real walk through time I'm sure you'd agree.    

Old straight track

Bridleway you say? If you're an elf riding a stoat, maybe. This section of the old Roman road, Ackling Dyke, just north of Badbury Rings, is tightly flanked by thick towering country hedge, making the already slim path, very narrow indeed. It felt akin to being in a maze, just a long unimaginative straight maze; The Ackling Dyke runs across the softly rolling chalk farmland like this for about half a mile. It's a long time since I've walked these tracks, not since Norris got too old to walk them, 5 or so years ago. I like this landscape, although predominantly farmland there's diversity too, and a lot lies hidden too, less walked tracks to find, secluded spots and views are just amazing. Obviously, this shot doesn't show those views to their best. 

Bokerley Dyke

Believed to have originated in the Bronze Age, 3000 years or so later and Bokerley Dyke still remains a striking feature as it cuts through the sweeping chalk grassland of Martin Down in Cranborne Chase.

Water Lilies

I thought how the 'Head' has changed over the years as I walked through memories and time there this morning.  It feels as if Hengistury Head has always featured in my life.  Childhood days out with kites, or Noddy Train rides and the beach.  A favoured adventure land in my young teens, skiving school, jumping the Noddy Train, being chased by the Noddy Train drivers as well as the first place I wild camped. It appeared much wilder then, it was much wilder then, more removed, that said, it's still wild-ish now. It became a different type of adventure land in my later teens, substances ensured that. It's always been somewhere I've walked too. When I worked in the engineers department at the local authority we'd survey the Head regularly to record the rate of erosion, it took a couple of days, and we did that a few times a year. Nice work as I remember. Halfway down the harbour face of the Head are ponds above the waste tips created by quarrying in previous centuries. These, now thriving wildlife ponds, used to be near lifeless murky puddles, in fact the whole landscape had a tangible post industrial feel to it as I remember, a bare nakedness beyond first colonisers and invasive flora. So many memories connected with this place, I'm connected with this place. And, I know I'm just one of many over the centuries to have felt that connection. Hengistbury Head has been the focus of human activity for millennia, 14,000 year ago Upper Palaeolithic hunters utilized the headland, as did the our Mesolithic ancestors, the Bronze Age saw the harbour developing and the promontory was a focus of Round Barrow burials, the Iron Age saw the harbour port continue to develop as an important centre for trade, this continued throughout the Roman period. Later centuries saw smuggling, quarrying and defence all feature, in-between long periods of pastoral obscurity. So I'm not just walking through my history, I'm walking through the history of the country, human and natural, and I just love that. 

Martin Down

The Chase (Cranborne Chase) is a versatile landscape, a mosaic of woodland, grassland  and farmland, mostly arable, though some grazing. Today we were roaming Martin Down, an extensive tract of chalk grassland. This landscape has been favoured by our ancestors for thousands of years; they've hunted it, farmed it, occupied it and ritualized it, their works litter the land, layer over layer of rich history.  The photo is taken from a robbed out Bronze Age Round Barrow, whether robbed by 'archaeologists' in antiquity or by treasure hunters, I don't know off hand, although the scar left by their endeavours is clearly visible. Lovely day for walking, I was glad to have got out early, mind, as it was really warming up by late morning.  

The New Forest

When people think of the New Forest I'm sure it's of expansive woodlands, of which there are some 230 sq mi of broadleaved woodlands and enclosed mixed plantation, although there are also 59 sq mi of open grassland, heathland and wetland. The photo above is representative of much of the forests heathland, a mixture of dry heathland with pockets of wetland heath, wetland and carr woodland filling hollows in the undulating landscape. Many of the wetland heath areas are impassible, especially through the wet seasons, punctuated as they are by wetland proper, you'll often find yourself following the contours of the land, making a 5 minute walk as the crow flies, a 20 walk.  This view is of the lower reaches of Duck Hole and Duck Hole Bog taken from one of the Bronze Age Round Barrows which border Ferny Knap enclosure (one of the smaller enclosures 21 acres, enclosed 1843. Lovely morning.

Nine Barrow Down

There are few trees hardy enough to consider attempting tenure on the seaward side of the Purbeck Hills, even fewer on the summit, rarely free of strong winds as it is. There's no season in which the Isle of Purbeck isn't at the mercy of the weather, and today was no exception, a brisk chill wind raked the hills. There's one tree though, a Hawthorn, which stands, or rather bows, on the bare ridge, close to a group of prehistoric burial mounds, the oldest over 5000 years. It's right to see Hawthorn and mound together, both having close association with the fay, both being home to faeries or gateway's to their world. The hawthorn looks as if weirdly trained by a mad arborist, though it's been shaped by the elements, or rather, one element. It's strength and tenacity in holding firm against that element is visible in its contorted form, it has clearly adopted a bend rather than break mentality, and that has served it well. It's still here, the winds haven't won, as yet. 

Merrivale

The Bronze Age Merrivale complex was one of the first (if not the first) of Dartmoor’s megalithic monuments that I visited, and all these years later it still fascinates me and still draws me back. Standing Stones, Stone Circles, Kist, Circle Cairns and Stone Rows, this site has them all, and closely grouped too. What a wonderful prehistoric landscape. You can only wonder at what rituals and practices must have gone on here, that's one of the joys of prehistory, you can hypothesize to your hearts content, if the evidence supports it, it's a valid hypothesis and well, if there's no evidence the knock yourself out. Whatever those activities were, they must have been important as, even with the 'on site' materials, a complex of this size and complexity would have taken considerable time (years), effort and manpower to erect. One interesting thing it highlights is that the Bronze Age communities of Dartmoor must have had an abundance of all three, suggesting their farming/hunting practices must have been effective and successful.

Cursus's end

The Dorset Cursus would have been a magnificent monument and expansive feature in the Neolithic landscape. Comprising of two joined sections, the Cursus is a linear feature of two parallel banks and ditches running for 10 km north east/south west across the undulating north Dorset landscape. For the most part nothing of this vast monument remains visible above ground. Though some of the associated features still remain visible. The earliest of these features are the Long Barrows, the focus of collect burial, these monuments pre-date or are contemporary with the Cursus, with one being incorporated in the bank. At the north eastern terminus of the Cursus are several Long Barrows, a couple of which are tree crowned, and when approached from the right direction create a striking silhouette on the rise. I love walking these archaeologically rich landscapes, and they don't come much richer than Cranborne; although the Cursus and Long Barrows are Neolithic, all the ages are represented. Bronze Age Barrows, earthworks and enclosures, Iron Age settlements and earthworks, a Roman road, right up to the mid 20th century military firing ranges, and evidence of the hunting and farming practices in-between. Fantastic. I really feel I'm walking in footsteps of the ancestors, in their landscapes, their monuments and activities come to life in my minds eye.

Isle of the dead

'The Butt' a substantial Bronze Age bowl barrow on Janesmore Plain in the north of the forest. I've long wondered if the origin of our 'Isle of the Dead' references in story, legend and myth isn't in this type of prehistoric monument. This barrow is after all, when it's surrounding ditch is water filled, an island which houses the dead. Or, maybe the barrow was designed to symbolize just that, and the original story stretches right back into prehistory. Whatever, I know there's a connection. Prehistoric people revered water and watery places, these were magical, life giving places where deities dwelt; they saw mounds as symbolic too, often as portals, or places to move between, of transition.  Anyway, this barrow (best in the forest, in my mind) perfectly symbolizes an isle of the dead.

Prehistoric Dorset (Bronze Age)

We're moving through time to the Bronze Age, well the end of the Neolithic in to Bronze Age, society is changing as are the settlement types, ritual monuments and burials. Dorset contains a number of Bronze Age monumental remains (particularly round barrows which are not represented in this post), we see the emergence of single standing stones, or linear stone setting and of course that most enigmatic of monument, the stone circle. 

First we have an isolated standing stone of a considerable size, the Kingston Russell Standing Stone. Set low in coombe below the extensive prehistoric landscape of Martin Down and Black Down towards the end of the Dorset Ridgeway (on private land behind some ostentatious black ironwork fencing and gates, but don't let that deter you, follow the nearby public footpath and easy access will become evident), the Kingston Russell Standing Stone is one of that mysterious class of monument, the isolated standing stone or monolith.  Very beginning of 2010; a Space Odyssey. The function of these monoliths is uncertain, although some may have celestial alignments, others may have formed markers on ceremonial ways where activities were performed as part of a protracted ritual, many have legends of healing associated with them, evidence of some folk memory maybe? Or just myths. What is known is that monoliths are not unique to the Bronze Age nor to Britain, with thousands identified around the world, suggesting something universal in this monument form. The Kingston Russell Standing Stone is of an impressive size and worth a visit, being obscured in its setting it's often overlooked.

Next, the Kingston Russell Stone Circle. First I have to say how disappointed, no, outraged I was at the condition of the site, cattle have been allowed to churn the site up, really doing some damage to the ground surface and if continued in time will seriously degrade the site (as with other archaeological sites, in the past its also seen ploughing too close to it). It doesn't take much thought. Enough though. The Kingston Russell Stone Circle lies about half a mile from the Neolithic long barrow of Grey Mare and her Colts, again on the Dorset Ridgeway. The 360 degree views are impressive, if any of the prehistoric practices at the site involved fire, it would have been visible for 10s of miles in all directions. The circle or rather oval-ish circle, comprises of 18 now recumbent stones, many of which are broken (there may more buried and the ones we can see might not be in their original positions), they are either of sarsen or some conglomerated stone which looks like lumps of pebble-dash, both types locally sourced, as I said it's an oval-ish shape of 27m at its largest.  I mentioned it's proximity to a Neolithic monument, stone circles appear first during the transition between the Neolithic and Bronze Age as new ritual and burial practices and material cultural items are embraced, a connection between the people associated with both sites is possible, distantly related group or family, or maybe it was just that that location in the landscape was significant. As with so much prehistory and prehistoric activity, it can only be hypothesized about, so let your imaginations run riot, no dragons though. There are two more stone circles locally at Hampton (2 miles east) and Nine Stones (4 miles north-east).  I like this site and in the past have spent some time just sitting (sometimes sleeping) within its bounds, a good spot for a picnic too. Lovely.

Bare Barrow

Although Spring is almost upon us, the trees are still bare on Knowltons' 6m high Great Barrow. Constructed in the late Neolithic or early Bronze Age it's the largest barrow in Dorset. The Knowlton complex must have been something to see in prehistory and a very significant regional ritual/spiritual site. Even today with many of those prehistoric features ploughed out, levelled and invisible, what remains are still striking, the ruined church at the henges' centre, in-particular, can be spotted from a distance and on a misty day appears ghostly. Knowlton's are real gem, and whether it's the archaeology, the history, the landscape or the vibe, Knowlton well worth a visit. Walk the bank of the Neolithic henge, wander the ruined medieval church , take in a sunrise/sunset, picnic, or just site a take it all in. You'll love it.

Isles of the dead

I've often wondered whether the water filled ditches of ancient Bronze Age round barrows influenced our later myths and legends around Isles of the Dead, Isles of the Young, Summer Isles and such like.  Were these stories born from the remembered tales and half truths of ancient ritual, practice and perceptions around death and the beyond, which had been passed down through the generations orally? Are other elements within our myths and legends also derived from the periods ritual, practice and perceptions? If so, what could we learn? We know that a barrow wasn't just a burial, and would have played an important part in community cohesion and reinforcing the shared narrative, amongst other things. As Timothy Darvill wrote, 'Individual barrows witnessed extended and complicated ceremonies and rituals. There were clearly many rules, precedents and taboos surrounding the ways barrows and their burials were created'. So, did these Bronze Age barrows symbolize the original Isles to which the the dead travelled? Was the builders intention for the ditches to fill with water symbolizing an island?  Are the journeys which the dead often take in these stories symbolic or an echo of  the burial ritual? Do the ancillary characters in these stories represent the main protagonists, after the deceased, in the burial rituals of the Bronze Age, members of the family/priests/shaman? Where's a Bronze Age person to ask when you need one! 

All these questions whirred around my head as I lay atop this forest barrow, surrounded (all but for a causeway facing South East), by a water filled ditch. At which point, bathed in the Suns' promise of what's to come, I promptly fell asleep. I awoke none the wiser.  Sadly, those in the mound were keeping schtum.

What got me thinking, was an article I recently read about fairy tales being much older than the 400 or so years we thought. In fact, dating as far back as the Bronze Age. Makes you think.

http://www.theguardian.com/books/2016/jan/20/fairytales-much-older-than-previously-thought-say-researchers

Down and out

 And the hills they are hollow and home to the Fey, 

Who dance on Midsummer's Eve, 

Some people don't understand when I say, 

These are the things I believe.

Damh the Bard

Well these hill, whether still home to the Fey or not are certainly hollow. Like so many Bronze Age burial mounds these two on Martin Down near Bokerley Dyke show the scars of having been robbed out, historically. Many of these ancient monuments have legends associated with them, and many of those legends would have included stories of items of great wealth buried within. It could have been looters of any period, although more likely it was early antiquarians, and though the latter may have been the precursor to modern archaeologists their motivations shared more than a passing similarity to those of the the looters. Just described in more noble terms. Look at the collections in the British museums, a lot of that stuff wasn't donated, if you get my drift. And the moral of this I thought? Well, that nothing is sacred, nothing magical, nothing taboo and that all believes go out the window when there's capital, monetary or cultural involved. We can be quite shallow animals really.