This will be the fourth year that I have worked at the Green Man Festival for what has become Guerilla Archaeology. The festival, which takes place in August, is held at Glanusk Park on the banks of the River Usk near Crickhowell. It is a rich archaeological landscape, and Alan Lane and I have written a brief guide to the archaeology of the Park and its environs, which is available as an information board during the festival. The major prehistoric monument of the Park, the Fish Stone, is not accessible to the public, however, nor is it accessible during the festival. Having never seen it, I wrote to the Park’s estates office and asked to visit. A number of other Guerilla Archaeologists were able to come. Alan Lane kindly agreed to extend the trip with a guided visit to the crannog at Llangorse, and Jacqui Mulville suggested we climb to the hillfort on Table Mountain,Crug Hywel.
Standing at just over 4.2 metres tall, the Fish Stone is an Old Red Sandstone orthostat which looks somewhat like a fish. It is sited in a quiet glade on the banks of the Usk. The worn face in the photo above faces east towards Crickhowell – as Ian Dennis noted, at sunrise and sunset the stone must cast a long shadow of a fish on the ground, while at noon a thin shadow will point due north. It is believed to be Bronze Age, and to form part of a possible group of route markers. There is another standing stone in Glanusk Park – this one is thought to have been early medieval, although it has been moved to a new location in Penmyarth churchyard and engraved with an epitaph to Joseph Henry Russell, the 2nd Baron Glanusk, in 1928.
After Glanusk Park, we headed off to Llangorse lake, site of the only crannog in Wales. A visitor centre tells the story of the archaeology – with the pallisaded settlement being built in the late 9th century AD, and periodically extended, until being destroyed in 916 by an army led by Aethelflaed, Queen of Mercia (and King Alfred’s daughter). The reconstructed roundhouse that houses the visitor centre is based on an iron age crannog house from Scotland or Ireland, rather than any of the Llangorse structures. Chained outside the visitor centre is a reconstruction from the 1990s by Time Team of a log boat discovered in the lake. To reach the crannog itself, we hired rowing boats. The site is protected by a stone bund, and there is little to see of the archaeology, although we could make out some planks in the shallow water to the south east of the crannog
The south east of the crannog at Llangorse
After lunch in Crickhowell, we climbed up to Crug Hywel hillfort on Table Mountain, a spur of Pen Cerrig Calch. Walkers are damaging the site by taking stones from the banks to build shelters – two of these were extant when we visited. The hillfort encloses an area of 162 x 59 metres, and has frankly stunning views . A small number of rounded hollows are visible which may be hut sites.
The entrance to Crug Hywel, at the east of the hillfort, and just a little taste of the fabulous views.
Ceri Houlbrook’s contribution to Colleen Morgan’s Zeitgeist theme on Then Dig was posted this week. It’s called Sanctifying Our Sites: Self-reflection on an archaeological dig, and discusses the archaeology of folklore and how investigating a site archaeologically can change the way it is perceived. The post was subject to open peer review, and Colleen very kindly invited me to be one of the reviewers, alongside Sara Gonzales from University of Washington, and you can read our comments at the end. It’s excellent reading. Take a look!
Then Dig is a collaborative archaeology blog hosted by UC Berkeley, and originally set up by Colleen Morgan and Alun Salt. I’m hosting the theme for November/ December, which is called “Green”, and is about how archaeology and palaeoecology can inform sustainability and conservation biology. Posts are welcome – please read the call below:
“Our theme for November is inspired by one of the earliest posts on this blog, DIY, Green Burials, and Mortuary Archaeology by Colleen Morgan. Archaeology and green issues are intrinsically linked, often explicitly in conservation legislature and in the designation of UNESCO World Heritage Sites, as well as in the public imagination (at times wrongly, as evidenced by an English politician’s characterisation last year of archaeologists as ‘bunny huggers’ – to see just how wrong this can be, read this extract of a recent paper on Hebridean archaeology by Mike Parker Pearson, Jacqui Mulville, Niall Sharples and Helen Smith).
As Martin Bell has noted:
‘Green concerns are about current and future trends. However understanding them requires knowledge of what has happened in the past’
(Bell 2004, p. 509). In this context, archaeological studies have been informative in issues such as the reintroduction of locally extinct animals, the development of sustainable farming and livestock management processes, the mitigation of agricultural soil erosion, and the prediction of potential outcomes of climate change.
Green concerns may also be more humanistic, and draw on archaeological imagery to suggest a utopian past where humans lived in sustainable coexistence with nature. Environmental archaeology has shown that such an idealised image of the past may not reflect reality, however – perhaps most dramatically in the famous case of Rapa Nui, which may have become unproductive after overzealous deforestation and poor land management (Bahn and Flenley 1992; Mann et al. 2008) (archaeological evidence does not necessarily support the idea of ‘ecocide’ however – Hunt 2007).
Additionally, indigenous knowledge traditions may be informative for environmental policy makers and planners (Johannes 1993, 33). Such knowledge can be drawn either directly from modern ethnographic studies (e.g. Costa-Neto 2000, 90, Blurton Jones and Konner 1989, 21), or inferred from archaeological and palaeoecological data (e.g. Jackson 2001; Mannino and Thomas 2002).
This theme welcomes posts which explore any interaction between archaeology and green concerns, including the topics discussed above, the environmental sustainability of archaeological practice, or personal reflections on how archaeology has made you think about green issues. If you’re interested in contributing a submission of 750 words or less, please e-mail me (LawMJ [at] cardiff.ac.uk) with the title of your contribution as the subject line, or drop us a message on the facebook page or on twitter (@ThenDig). Posts will be published throughout November and December and are due by November 20th. Submissions in the form of images, music, video, and other multimedia are, as ever, also welcome. Your submission will be subjected to open peer review before being posted on Then Dig (our open peer review guidelines are here)
Bahn, P.G.,and J.R. Flenley, 1992. Easter Island, Earth Island. London: Thames and Hudson.
Bell, M., 2004. Archaeology and green issues. In J. Bintliff. Ed. A Companion to Archaeology Oxford: Blackwell. pp. 509-531.
Blurton Jones, N. and M.J. Konner, 1989. !Kung knowledge of animal behaviour. In R.E.Johannes Ed. Traditional Ecological Knowledge: A Collection of Essays Gland: IUCN. pp. 21-29.
Costa-Neto, E.M., 2000, Sustainable development and traditional knowledge: a case study in a Brazilian artisanal fisherman’s community. Sustainable Development 8, pp. 89-95. doi:10.1002/(SICI)1099-1719(200005)8:2<89::AID-SD130>3.0.CO;2-S.
Hunt, T.L., 2007. Rethinking Easter Island’s ecological catastrophe, Journal of Archaeological Science 34, pp. 485–502. doi:10.1016/j.jas.2006.10.003.
Jackson, J.B.C., et al., 2001. Historical overfishing and the recent collapse of coastal ecosystems. Science 293, pp. 629-638. doi: 10.1126/science.1059199.
Johannes, R.E., 1993. Integrating Traditional Ecological Knowledge and management with Environmental Impact Assessment. In J.T.Inglis, Ed. Traditional Ecological Knowledge: concepts and cases. pp. 33-39 .
Mann, D., et al., 2008. Drought, vegetation change, and human history on Rapa Nui (Isla de Pascua, Easter Island). Quaternary Research 69 (1), pp. 16–28. doi:10.1016/j.yqres.2007.10.009.
Mannino, M.A., and K.D.Thomas, 2002. Depletion of a resource? the impact of prehistoric human foraging on intertidal mollusc communities and its significance for human settlement, mobility and dispersal, World Archaeology 33 (3), pp. 452-474.”
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about my modern mollusc survey at the archaeological site I have been working on, and mentioned that I had also seen Cecilioides acicula, a snail which lives underground, while excavating. I managed to take a picture of a live animal on my phone:
As a subterranean species, C. acicula is problematic for archaeologists. It can occur in quite large numbers in samples, but is usually regarded as intrusive. I took a level of the spot I found this snail, and found it was living 90 cms under the former ground surface. In the seminal Land Snails in Archaeology (1972, 186), the late Professor John G. Evans reports that they have been seen 2 metres below the ground surface.
The shells are typically translucent, becoming opaque some time after the snail has died. Here are two very translucent (and quite pretty!) shells from a prehistoric sample elsewhere in Somerset – they are clearly a recent intrusion.
They are usually described as a medieval introduction to Britain from Europe (eg. Davies 2010, 170). I have only ever seen them in sediments with a good deal of sand or silt in the mix, and Evans (1972, 186) notes that they “are common in areas which have been cultivated recently but often absent from longstanding grassland which would appear to provide suitable habitats”. I’m interested to know more precisely when they arrived, and how they have come to be spread. In post-industrial Britain, it is not hard to envisage them being spread in soil with potted plants, but if they are truly a medieval introduction, was soil being moved around, or did they spread by some other means? Suggestions very welcome!
Davies, P., 2010. Land and freshwater molluscs. In T. O’Connor and N.Sykes, eds. Extinctions and Invasions: a social history of the British fauna. Oxford: Windgather Press. pp.175-180.
Evans, J.G., 1972. Land Snails in Archaeology. London: Seminar Press
Where I get the chance, which isn’t all that often, I like to take a look at the modern snail fauna of the sites I’m excavating. I’m currently working close to Leighton, between Shepton Mallet and Frome in Somerset. The site has a fairly sandy clay overlying Carboniferous limestone (the Hotwells Limestone) with occasional areas of younger, Jurassic, Inferior Oolite. It has been deeply ploughed, and maize was still growing there at the time of my survey. I couldn’t find a single snail amongst the maize, although the hedgeline (hazel, with some hawthorn) yielded quite a few snails.
The counts were
Cochlicopa lubrica 3
Discus rotundatus 1
Vallonia costata 1
Cepaea hortensis 4
Trochulus striolatus 21
Oxychilus cellarius 1
The C. hortensis were all of the 5-banded variety.
None of the snails were all that surprising for the environment – fairly typical hedgerow fauna.
Elsewhere on the site, in recent colluvium at the bottom of the hill, I’ve seen Cornu aspersum, in a very pointed form. Whilst excavating I’ve some across live examples of the subterranean Cecilioides acicula (which I only ever seem to see when the soil is quite sandy), and in the car park at the top of the hill there are Monacha cantiana.