Month: March 2018

Remains of huge Iron Age feast found in Scotland

Ancient

An archaeological excavation on a cliff overlooking Windwick Bay in South Ronaldsay, Orkney, has discovered the remains of an Iron Age feast of gut-busting dimensions and the party favors were top-notch. The site, known as The Cairns, contains the remains of an Iron Age broch, a circular multi-story tower with thick stone walls forming a massive defensive structure. The dig is an ongoing project of the University of the Highlands and Islands Archaeology Institute which has been exploring different aspects of the broch complex every field season since 2006.

Found in North Scotland, both mainland and island, brochs were in use from around 600 B.C. through the 2nd century A.D. Radiocarbon analysis dates the demise of The Cairns broch to the mid-2nd century. Settlements often sprang up around a broch, and The Cairns is no exception. The remains of several buildings have been found right up against the defensive walls, and the close integration of village and tower suggest that the settlement was planned from the time the broch was constructed rather than a later ad hoc development.

The Cairns Broch Excavation, Orkney by Dr Hugo Anderson-Whymark on Sketchfab

Even after the broch fell into disuse and then ruin, the site’s structures were either demolished and new ones built over them, or repurposed in whole or in part. The entrance chamber to the broch, for example, became part of a souterrain. One of the broch village buildings, Structure K, was derelict and had no roof when it was used for the production of metal jewelry on a large scale during a single event.

Dig director Martin Carruthers:

The remains of this episode include furnaces, bronze waste; bronze splashes and droplets, crucibles, and very significantly: moulds for casting fine bronze objects. Over sixty moulds and mould fragments have been recovered. These were used to cast a variety of objects ranging from simple bronze rings, to distinctive decorated dress pins, called ‘projecting ring-headed pins’, and penannular brooches, which are the lovely open-ring, cloak brooches that are sometimes referred to as ‘Celtic’ brooches.

The volume and nature of the items being produced suggests that this was a socially significant collection of prestigious items aimed at denoting the identity, and status of those who were to wear the items; badges of their belonging and importance within the community. Importantly, it is the entire suite of materials found together, as well as their precise distribution pattern within the trench, that indicates strongly that this material relates to an in situ metalworking event, rather than a secondary event, such as merely the refuse disposal of old moulds, or even their ritual deposition.

Radiocarbon dating found that this event took place between the mid-3rd and mid-4th century A.D., after the demise of the broch. Adjacent to and overlapping the metalworking area in Structure K, the team unearthed a midden replete with animal bones. The remains of more than 10,000 animals, domesticated cattle, sheep and pigs as well as red deer, otters and horses, were discarded on this spot. Extensive evidence of cooking — carbonized soil, ash, fire-cracked cobbles used to heat up water in pots — was also found in the midden, as were some crucibles and metalworking moulds that connect the metalworking event and this gargantuan party.

Martin Carruthers explains the significance and potential meaning of this connection:

The close stratigraphic association between the fine metalworking and the feasting raises the question of what exactly was going on here. One possibility that I like very much is that the feasting could be the spectacular social event at which the products of the jewellery-making were handed out, or gifted, to their intended recipients by those who had sponsored the metalworking in the first place. We may therefore be peering into the social circumstances of the jewellery-making and the distribution of its products amongst the community at The Cairns. If this is so, then it is a fascinating insight into the moment at which objects like the pins, brooches and rings started off on their biographies, their journey through people’s lives.

This is a very rare opportunity to see more clearly the initial nature of the social and political significance of these objects from their start-point. It would mean that the sharing or gifting of the jewellery was surrounded in the circumstances of a big social occasion, a massive party, if you like. We are seeing their birth and the important role they played in the power-play and social strategies of Iron Age groups and individuals. With the circumstances of the jewellery-making we are able, for once, to investigate the intended status and significance of these items within the context of their birth, rather than depending on the information we usually get, which is based on the discovery of these objects much later in their lives, in fact at the end of their lives, when they went in the ground, perhaps many decades, or more, after they were originally made and worn. Most theories about the brooches and pins and their role in society have been based on what we glean from them in this end-state, but the assemblage of metalworking evidence from The Cairns; the moulds, crucibles, and other items, together with the massive remains of the feasting allows us to grasp what was going on at the point in time when these jewellery items were instigated. […]

At one level, perhaps, everyone in the community was involved in the feasting, but only some were ennobled by receiving a pin; a ring, or a brooch. So it may well be that we are looking at the strategies for creating and maintaining the concept of the entire community at the same time as signalling social difference, and hierarchy within the community of this post-broch period. If so, the excavations are really coming up trumps in terms of allowing us to peer into the social circumstances of Iron Age communities.

Moldy beer and pungent salt beef: a 17th c. sailor’s diet

Modern(ish)

Preserving stores of food and drink on a ship during the long and treacherous ocean voyages of the 16th and 17th century was such a challenge that we still think of scurvy, rotten meat and brandy rations in place of water when we think of the sailor’s life before refrigeration. Actual scientific data on how well shipboard supplies lasted, however, is virtually non-existent. Texas A&M University nautical archaeologist Grace Tsai has crafted an experiment to find out what really happened to the unrefrigerated supplies during transatlantic voyages.

Her departure point was the archaeological remains of three shipwrecks, primarily that of the Warwick which sank in Bermuda’s Castle Harbor in 1619 when a hurricane dashed it against the reefs at the base of a limestone cliff where her captain had anchored her in the hope the cliff face would provide some protection from the high winds. The merchant vessel’s next destination was the English colony of Jamestown which was in dire need of supplies. The Warwick‘s provisions and the fortuitous way it collapsed on its starboard side in deep silt, preserving that half of the wreck from the depredations of woodworm, make it an important source of information about life on board a 17th century ship.

The wreck was extensively excavated and documented between 2008 and 2012 by a team including maritime archaeologists and experts from the Institute of Nautical Archaeology and the Center of Maritime Archaeology and Conservation at Texas A&M. Grace Tsai began studying the data on the food supplies recovered from the Warwick just as the exploration was coming to a close in 2012. Her focus was analysis of sailors’ diets based on modern nutritional guidelines. She looked at the type of food they ate and how they prepared it based on period recipes, but the question of preservation is a large variable when trying to determine the nutrient value of a food.

So Tsai’s team got a bunch of period-accurate supplies and stored them inside the tall ship Elissa built in 1877 and now a museum docked in Galveston, Texas. From August through October 2017, the about the amount of time a transatlantic voyage would take in the 16th and 17th centuries. To ensure the experiment was as probative as possible, Tsai and her colleagues got hardcore about recreating the proper foodstuffs. They packed salted meat, peas, oats, those ship’s biscuits you see in museums that are basically rocks, heirloom rice, beer, wine and one barrel of fresh spring water. The team even made the salted meats from scratch, using the butcher marks on beef bones found on the Warwick wreck to determine how provisioners sized the cuts for optimal preservation. The salt itself they imported from Guérande in Brittany, France, whose salt marshes have been producing highly prized and widely traded salt for a thousand years.

After their stint in the Elissa’s hold, many of the provisions still seem edible. For safety reasons, nobody will actually be tasting the experimental results, but the baked ship biscuits are in the best shape by far, a testament to their legendary hardiness. The salted beef, however, has taken on a pinkish center resembling prosciutto. It has a pungent smell, says Tsai, though it isn’t rotten.

A big exception is the natural spring water, which has turned cloudy with greenish bits and “smelled pretty disgusting,” Tsai says. Sailors may have preferred quenching their thirst with beer and wine, which remained more palatable. Still, a surprising amount of lingering yeast fermentation and carbonation caused the beer barrel to leak and grow mold.

Yet the biggest surprise came from the diversity of microbes found in some of the food. Early genomic sequencing analyses, mostly from the salted beef, suggest that many of the bacteria are neither illness-causing pathogens nor beneficial probiotics—most seem to be relatively neutral. The unexpected microbial bounty, however, has forced the researchers to expand their genomic sequencing efforts.

I wonder if any wild yeast strains made it into that beer. The beer was made according to a historical recipe — people will be able to get a taste of it (the fresh version, not the moldy stuff) at a fundraiser on the Elissa later this month — but I don’t know if they secured a period-accurate yeast strain from before the discovery of a pure yeast culture by Carlsberg’s Emil Hansen in 1883. It seems to me that would be a significant factor in preservation given how wild yeast could sicken a barrel of beer even when it didn’t spend two months in a ship’s hold.

Here’s a video of the timber remains of the wreck of the Warwick, filmed in 2011. It’s a long, peaceful exploration of the site without commentary or soundtrack. Someone needs to loop it for one of those sleeping sounds apps.

Local social history museum acquires Iron Age gold coin hoard

Ancient, Museums

Eden Valley Museum in Edenbridge is acquiring an Iron Age hoard of gold coins that was discovered by metal detector hobbyist Jonathan Barber in October of 2016 near the village of Chiddingstone in the Sevenoaks District of Kent, England. The exact find site has not been disclosed for its own protection. The 10 coins were dispersed, not found in a single cluster even though they were buried together. They are believed to have been scattered in later centuries through agricultural activity.

The coins are all of the same type: Gallo-Belgic gold staters minted by the Ambiani tribe of northern France whose main settlement, Samarobriva, is the modern-day city of Amiens. The Ambiani were defeated by Gaius Julius Caesar when he fought the Belgae in 57 B.C. and submitted to him only to join in the uprising against Roman occupation led by Vercingetorix of the Arverni in 52 B.C.

The Ambiani were famed minters, their coins being widely distributed throughout northern France and southern England. The type of coin in the Chiddingstone Hoard is known as a “Gallic War Uniface,” struck during the general time period of Gallic Wars (ca. 60-50 B.C.) in northern France and imported into Britain a few years later. High quality coins made of solid gold, they were in wide circulation in the south of England and a number of them have been found there. Finding a group of ten together, however, is extremely rare.

Interestingly, the obverse is smooth. There is no image or text stamped on it. The reverse features a stylized Celtic horse facing right. Hence the name “Uniface” because there is an image only on one side of the coin. Comparable Iron Age coins struck by Celtic tribes normally had a head on the obverse representing a local ruler or deity. Experts believe the obverse was left deliberately blank as a political message. The Gallic allies fighting against Caesar claimed no sole ruler. They were trying to get rid of one.

The smallest coin in the hoard has a diameter of 15mm. It is also the heaviest, weighing in at 6.16 grams. The largest is 19mm in diameter but is just a hair less heavy at 5.98 grams. The lightest of the coins weighs 5.96 grams and is 18mm in diameter. They’re a remarkably uniform bunch, all in all, with just 4mm and a quarter of a gram variance among them.

When the coins were unearthed, the finder alerted the Kent Finds Liaison for the Portable Antiquities Scheme who recognized the Iron Age gold coins and submitted them for consideration as treasure. One declared treasure, the coins were assessed for fair market value by a committee of experts at the British Museum. Local museums are given first crack at acquiring the treasure for the price of the valuation, a fee which is then split between the finder and landowner.

Claire Donithorn BA, resident archaeologist at the museum said, “These will be our first significant Iron Age exhibits. They date from precisely the time when Britain emerged from Prehistoric to Historic Times. Our aim now is to keep the hoard together and to ensure that it stays in the Valley for us and for future generations.”

Experts in the British Museum examined the coins and identified them. The Eden Valley Museum was then offered the chance to buy them. The Museum leaped at the opportunity. Claire Donithorn said, “These coins are an important part of the history of the Eden Valley. They show that the Valley was connected to great events in European History – the Gallic Wars. Whoever buried them may have been involved in those wars and was probably living here in the Valley.”

The museum needs to raise £13,000 to acquire the coins and to create a secure display for them. Grants from the South East Museums Development Programme, Arts Council England/V&A Museum Purchase Grant Fund and the Headley Trust put £11,315 in the kitty, which gets them almost all the way there. While the fundraising isn’t quite complete, the museum is close enough to move forward with the plan. The Chiddingstone Hoard will go on display starting April 11, 2018.

5 mirror frames found in Roman villa in Bulgaria

Ancient

Archaeologists excavating an outbuilding of a Roman villa near the town of Pavlikeni, northern Bulgaria, have unearthed five lead mirror frames dating to the late 2nd or early 3rd century. The small round frames suggest there’s more to this villa than archaeologists realized.

The villa, thought to have belonged to a Roman Army veteran, was first built at the end of the 1st century/beginning of the 2nd century. In addition to being a country estate, it was also used for ceramic production during its relatively brief lifespan. The complex stood for less than a century before being pillaged and razed by the invading Costoboci during the Marcomannic Wars (170-171 A.D.). It was rebuilt but the second iteration lasted even less time, being abandoned some time after 235 A.D., likely during the incursions of the Goth and Carpi tribes into Roman territory south of the Danube around 238.

The 35-acre site has been excavated every season for four years. In the 2016 season, a geophysical survey found evidence of Roman construction materials — roof tiles and basalt quarried from the nearby extinct volcano today known as Chatal Tepe — outside the main building. Excavations in 2016 and 2017 revealed a square building 5.65 meters (18.5 feet) wide and 6.35 meters (20.8 feet) long. It had an east-facing entrance, a wise choice in a region where western winds blow very hard and very cold, with an antechamber supported by wooden columns. The columns have not survived, but their stone bases have. There were two hearths in the structure, one in the antechamber, one in the main room. The mirrors were discovered in the interior hearth.

Three of the mirror frames are identically sized and have the same decoration: a stylized depiction of a wine krater with vines growing out of it. Three of the five also have the same inscription lettered in Ancient Greek. At first glance, archaeologists thought it read “ТYXH KAΛH,” which expresses a wish that their owner have a good fate. Closer examination after cleaning revealed a different phrase, with a very different implication of what this building’s purpose may have been.

“Some of the mirrors have inscriptions, reading, ΨΥΧΗ ΚΑΛΗ, not ТΥΧΗ ΚΑΛΗ, as I originally thought. That means a ‘good soul’. Mirrors are generally discovered in shrines,” lead archaeologist Chakarov has told ArchaeologyinBulgaria.com.

The discovery of the lead mirror frames has added a new hypothesis about the function of the building where they have been found, namely, that it might have been a temple of some kind. The initial hypothesis, which is still being considered, is that it was a residential building.

“The find consisting of lead mirror frames points towards the possibility that the building in question might have been a temple. The earlier hypothesis that it was a residential venue still stands, though. A final hypothesis is yet to be decided upon after all discovered material has been processed,” Chakarov explains.

Other materials found at the building including pottery fragments and coins which indicate the building was in use in the late 2nd, early 3rd century A.D., so about four decades before its final demise.

These intriguing finds are the work of a team of volunteers led by Kalin Chakarov, archaeologist from the Pavlikeni Museum of History. Nobody is taking a paycheck and without the 40 volunteers from Bulgaria and four other countries, there would have been no 2017 excavation.

Famed archaeologist forged murals, inscriptions for decades

Modern(ish)

In a shocking development, researchers have discovered that James Mellaart, the archaeologist who first excavated one of the most important prehistoric sites in the world, the 9,000-year-old Neolithic proto-urban settlement of Çatalhöyük in Turkey, for decades fabricated murals and inscriptions, passing them off as genuine finds and publishing them extensively.

James Mellaart, who died in 2012, created some of the “ancient” murals at Çatalhöyük that he supposedly discovered; he also forged documents recording inscriptions that were found at Beyköy, a village in Turkey, said geoarchaeologist Eberhard Zangger, president of the Luwian Studies Foundation. Zangger examined Mellaart’s apartment in London between Feb. 24 and 27, finding “prototypes,” as Zangger calls them, of murals and inscriptions that Mellaart had claimed were real.

“He used the same approach for over 50 years,” Zangger told Live Science. “He would first acquire a tremendously broad and deep knowledge [about the area he was interested in]. Then, he would try to use this knowledge to develop a coherent historic panorama,” Zangger said. This process in itself is not uncommon for an archaeologist or historian. The only difference is that legitimate researchers then look for evidence that either supports or refutes their ideas. Instead, “Mellaart would fabricate drawings of artifacts and translations of alleged documents to reinforce his theories,” Zangger said.

But perpetrating multiple frauds in defense of his own conclusions, as appalling as that is, isn’t even the worst of it. His deceptions went beyond the grave, his own and other people’s. He manipulates scholars who trusted and respected him into keeping his long undetected record of forgery and fiction passed off as fact unbroken after his death, and he put many of these lies in the mouths of dead colleagues who could no longer defend their reputations.

Last year, Mellaart’s estate sent the Luwian Studies Foundation a number of documents containing “ancient texts” which Mellaart had singled out as being of special significance and worthy of immediate publication. LSF experts were tasked by the estate with researching those texts further. One of them was a very long inscription from Beyköy that doesn’t exist. The sole evidence that it ever existed was a drawing and transcription of the lost stone done by archaeologist Georges Perrot in 1878. Perrot’s purported copy of the inscription was in Mellaart’s notes. Eberhard Zangger and independent researcher Fred Woudhuizen published that inscription in the December 2017 issue of Proceedings of the Dutch Archaeological and Historical Society.

This publication made headlines at the time because the inscription touched on one of those subjects that the mainstream press gets excited about: Troy. Now the Luwian Society can’t tell if it’s authentic or not (I vote most definitely not), because so many of Mellaart’s Beyköy inscriptions have proven to be forgeries complete with multiple drafts and clear evidence of the fabrication process.

Zangger said he feels betrayed by the fact that Mellaart asked researchers to publish his forgeries for him after his death. “I feel abused,” Zangger said. Correspondence found in his apartment indicate that Mellaart tried to get others interested in publishing the forgeries before he died, Zangger said, adding that “he had no scruples when it came to harming other people’s careers.”

Oh, and Mellaart first contacted Zangger about the Beyköy inscriptions in 1995, claiming he couldn’t read Luwian (an ancient Anatolian language group) and asking Zangger to translate them for him. Zangger discovered when he went through the papers in Mellaart’s apartment that in fact he had an excellent command of Luwian, so he was setting him up as the patsy more than two decades ago.

I came very close to writing about two of these frauds, the ostensible Trojan inscription and an ostensible volcano mural. I dodged those bullets for two reasons: a) the “finds” seemed tenuous to me and 2) there were no proper high res pictures. Not that I ever suspected Mellaart had spent decades as a committed fabulist keen to drag unwitting colleagues into his web of delusion, deceit and a disregard for professional ethics so enormously flagrant that it transcended even his own death. That had not occurred to me. I just thought there was too much speculation based on very limited hard evidence, something you see all the time in archaeological stories, and I discard a dozen interesting articles a day because the photos suck. Never have I been happier to be obsessed with scoring big pics.