Category Archives: Archaeology

The 1991 discovery of an important Roman inscription in Holt

By Andie Byrnes and Helen Anderson, August 4th 2023

The discovery in 1991

The Holt inscribed fragment, now in the Grosvenor Museum. Photograph by Dr Roger Tomlin, University of Oxford, with many thanks for allowing Helen to use it.

In 1991 artist and archaeology enthusiast Helen Anderson was driving over the Farndon-Holt bridge, about 11 miles (c.18km) south of Chester, when she noticed some activity and bare soil surfaces in the normally grassy nearby field associated with the Roman tile-works and its ancillary buildings overlooking the Dee.   She had recently started to focus on Roman archaeology and to visit Roman sites, and although she had spent her childhood locally in Churton, she had only recently been reading about the Holt tileworks site for the first time.  She had been intending to go and look at the site but hadn’t yet done so, and thought this might be an interesting opportunity to go and see it. She received permission from the landowner to walk over the newly-stripped surface of the field.

On the  recently exposed soil surface that day, as well as sundry fragments of imbrex and tegula (roofing tiles), two of which were marked with cat and dog paw-prints and one with a finger print, she found the wonderful piece of inscribed brick shown in the photograph above right. Here is Helen talking about discovering the piece:

As I was walking through the field, which had been stripped for turf that was still being rolled and loaded, I saw a large piece of orange tile lying on the muddy surface, picked it up, turned it over and found what appeared to be writing on the underside.  I could hardly believe my eyes – it was an extraordinary and quite eerie moment!  My immediate thought was who I should tell about it.  Later, gently cleaning it in the kitchen sink, the excitement of the incised letters appearing clearly as the soil washed out of them was something I will never forget. It felt a bit like time travel.

Aerial view of the farmland at Holt next to the River Dee where the tile-works were located

The piece was clearly broken, with a bit of the inscription missing.  Helen returned to Holt a few days later, to show it the to the farmer and to see if the rest of the fragment was lying about in the field, but by then it had all been rotovated – if she hadn’t picked up the brick it probably would have been further damaged. She reckons the gods must have been with her that day!

This was six years before the establishment of the Portable Antiquities Scheme, so after after showing the find to the landowner, who gave Helen permission to keep the object, Helen sent photographs to the British Museum.  The resulting correspondence offers a terrific insight into how an understanding of the significance of the object was reached. It emerged that the fragment of Helen’s brick on which the inscription was made was re-used as a form of notepad to make a quick record.  At first it was thought that the fragment was a tile, but it is more likely to be a piece of lydion or sesquipedalis; these look rather like tiles because they are very thin compared with modern brickwork.  Some of the letters have been sliced off at the far right, but what we are looking at is part of a coherent piece of text, a list with signatures.  It was a small-sized record, containing only a few details.  It measures 32cms, by 30cms, and is around 6mm thick.

Helen hard at work at the Rossett Roman Villa excavation in 2021. Photograph courtesy of Dr Caroline Pudney, University of Chester

The inscription is now recorded in various books and papers contributing to knowledge about Roman activities and everyday life in the Chester area.  Although Holt is just over the Welsh border, the tiles and bricks were created for the Roman occupation in Chester.

Following very fine lunches at Pant Yr Ochain near Gresford and the White Horse in Churton, where we pored over both the artefacts and documents that Helen has assembled, including her original correspondence with Catherine John and Roger Tomlin, we decided to write a post about the inscribed fragment.  Helen has now been investigating the Romans in the Chester area for three decades, and as her knowledge has grown she has excavated as a volunteer at Chester amphitheatre, the Heronbridge Roman settlement, and most recently the Rossett villa.  All the documentation cited here has been provided by Helen.

First, a quick look at the Holt tile-works, which produced the inscribed brick.

The early 20th century discovery of the Holt Tile-works

The Holt brick and tile works site was recognized in the early 1600s when landowner Thomas Crue of Holt Hill suffered repeated damage to his plough and was forced to investigate.  He discovered that his plough was encountering a series of fifty 2ft-tall posts, and his finding found its way into the book Roman Cheshire by W. Thompson Watkins (1886).  This was noted by retired chemist and keen amateur historian Alfred Neobard Palmer who, in 1905, decided to hunt for the remains that Crue had found, accompanied by local vicar Jenkyn Jones, having sought permission from the landowner.  A series of field-walking expeditions followed, uncovering plentiful fragments of Roman brick, roof tile and pottery over an area of some 20 acres.

Fold-out plan of the kilns at Holt, published by Grimes in 1930. (Scanned from my copy of “Holt, Denbighshire”)

Palmer was not an archaeologist, and the task of excavating the site was taken on by Wrexham solicitor and amateur archaeologist Arthur Acton.  Work began in 1907 and continued until 1915.  Although he delivered numerous lectures about the site, Acton never published his work.  Fortunately a portion of his records survived, and he sold the excavation finds to the National Museum of Wales, where William F. Grimes used the data to compile a comprehensive report, complete with site plans, photographs and object illustrations.  Work did not stop there, and during the 1970s Geoffrey Bevan conducted both field walking activities and an excavation, finding Roman material that filled dozens of boxes, which were donated, this time, to the Grosvenor Museum in Chester.  Helen’s field-walking in 1991 added the inscription to the list of important finds, and in 2018 Holt Local History Society commissioned Archaeological Survey West to carry out a geophysical survey of the site, to fix the positions of the known buildings and, with luck, to identify any unexcavated and previously unknown structures.  This demonstrated that the Holt complex was even bigger and more complex than Grimes, via Acton, had been able to determine.  There is, of course, the potential for future field research, and recent work in Farndon, summarized on local historian Mike Royden’s website is beginning to expand the story over to the other side of the Dee.

What was the Holt tile-works like?

Site plan of the Roman tile and pottery work displayed in the Hidden Holt exhibition. Also in the excellent booklet accompanying the exhibition, full details in Sources below. The features shown in blue are unrecorded / unexcavated.  Those in dark brown are the building locations fixed in 2018, and those in paler brown those estimated by Grimes based on Acton’s work.  Click to see a bigger version with fully legible text.  Source: Wrexham Heritage Service, 2021

The 20th Legion, Valeria Victrix, of the Roman army, was stationed at Chester, Roman Deva, from AD87, and the Holt works appears to have been established shortly afterwards to supply the fort and settlement at the legionary fortress.  Holt’s industrial activities reaching their peak output at around AD135, and began falling out of use in the mid 3rd Century.  The site was clearly a fully integrated operation combining industrial, public and domestic components.

A senior manager had his own house, complete with hypocaust (under-floor central heating), there was a public bath house, a series of kilns for the manufacture of tiles, bricks and pottery, and a barracks that may have housed workers, or alternatively a detachment of the Roman army based at Chester at this time.

The hypocaust below the drying shed. Source: National Museum of Wales

The main kiln plant at Holt, published by William Grimes in 1930.

The kilns formed two main units, a larger (139ft / 52m long, consisting of a row of six kilns) and smaller twin-kiln built on the natural bed-rock.  Each kiln was rectangular and tile-lined with an arched stoke-hole for access.  A round pottery kiln was also located on the edge of the main kiln complex.  The oven floor consisted of a raised floor of tiles plastered with clay that were pierced with holes that acted as vents.  The drying shed was provided with a hypocaust, of the same sort used in villas and bath houses.  These, like the kilns, were stoked and kept hot to ensure that the tiles, pottery and bricks were dried through after firing.

Map marked by Helen to show the approximate findspot of the inscribed fragment

All of the output manufactured at the works was sent by boat downriver to Chester on the river Dee.  It provided direct access to Chester, 12 miles / 19km away, passing the civic settlement at Heronbridge.  The generally flat environment meant that building of roads, where needed, was not exceptionally laborious.
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Corresponding about the tile in 1991

The imposing facade of the British Museum. Source: Wikimedia Commons by Paasikivi

Helen wrote to the British Museum in April 1991 describing how she had found the fragment, and enclosing a high resolution photo in which the inscription could be seen clearly.  The first person to reply to Helen’s letter to the British Museum was Catherine Johns F.S.A., at the time Curator of Roman Britain in the Department of Prehistoric and Romano-British Antiquities in the British Museum in London.  In a letter dated 18th June 1991, Catherine Johns begins “Thank you for your letter and the excellent photographs and drawing of the inscribed tile from Holt in your possession.  This is an interesting and important find.”  She goes on to explain that the inscription is in cursive Latin, “that it is to say, it is handwriting rather than formal lettering.”  She was unable to translate the text, which is a specialist task, and sent it to Dr Roger Tomlin of Wolfson College, University of Oxford.  She warned Helen that the fragmentary nature of the text might impede translation.  She finished by suggesting that Helen might consider presenting the piece to the National Museum of Wales, where most of the Holt material excavated in the early 20th century is held.

Helen then received a letter dated 25th June 1991, only a week after the letter written by Catherine Johns, from Dr Roger Tomlin.  Dr Tomlin explained that it was by no means straightforward to decipher and transcribe the fragment, partly because of the several examples of handwriting inscribed, and the fact that it was clearly incomplete.  He suggested that this was a record of expenses, with the star symbol indicating the unit of payment in denarii, and that several individuals were involved. He referred to the inscribed brick as “a welcome addition” to the corpus of Roman inscriptions in Britain. In a later letter, dated 1st July 1991, he thanked Helen for offering to take the the object to him in Oxford, for translation, whilst on a family break, and expressed the hope to meet up with Helen to discuss it.  He suggested that the fragment was probably part of a lydion (or sesquipedalis), rather than a tile, a brick used for bonding-courses.  When Helen met Dr Tomlin for coffee, he departed on his bicycle, in typical Oxford style, with the inscription propped up in the bicycle’s basket.  ———

The inscription

The same photo of the inscribed tile found by Helen Anderson in Holt in 1996 as above, shown again so that you can review the cursive text Copyright Helen Anderson

The brick was inscribed in the still-soft surface of the wet clay before firing.  The translation of the inscription by Dr Tomlin is a great example of the sort of scholarship and academic detective work that go into understanding a single object.  The inscription was abbreviated, typical for this sort of note, where space was limited and standardized abbreviations were recognizable to all.  As already noted, the slab was broken, possibly by ploughing, so parts of the inscription are missing, but this apparently presented few problems for Dr Roger Tomlin.

Just by looking at it, you can see that there is more than one person’s handwriting, and that’s because each person wrote his own signature.  All three were men, named  1) Junius, 2) Maternus and 3) Bellettus.  The final s is missing in each case due to the break.  In the official transcription below, Tomlin has completed words where he knows them.  The slab is a record of expenses they had incurred, but does not say how they were incurred.  Junius was paid at least 4 denarii, probably more, but the break carried the other details away.

Notes about the inscription on the left, on the back of the photo above, followed ultimately by the publication of the inscription in Tomlin 2018, p.290

Front cover of Tomlin’s 2018 “Britannia Romana. Roman Inscriptions and Roman Britain.” Oxbow Books (see Sources below)

Dr Tomlin wrote about the inscription in the journal Britannia, vol.26, 1995, p.387, where it is numbered no.28 (and Helen’s role in the discovery is referenced in the footnotes).  It was later included in Tomlin’s comprehensive Britannia Romana, published in 2018, which lists over 400 epigraphic inscriptions from Roman Britain.  The inscription is listed on page 290 as number 11.14.  Dr Tomlin observed that the three men listed were probably legionaries (although he does not rule out in the 1995 publication that they may have been auxiliaries).  He says that two of the three names were commonplace Roman names, and the third, Bellettus, may have been a variant on the name Bellicus, which he describes as “popular in Celtic-speaking provinces.”  All three signed their own names, meaning that they were literate.

Tomlin is particularly interested in the word sumtuaria, which is missing its p, and is the plural of the noun sumptuarium.  The word is very rare, with the only example known by Tomlin appearing on a legionary pay-sheet in Masada, Israel, where it refers to food expenses.  Tomlin speculates that this was a record of expenses that were to be reimbursed by headquarters at a later date, but he does question how this was supposed to work when the record took the form of a brick (which, after all, could not be divided between the three men!)

Roman soldier’s payslip from Masada, Israel. Source: Arkeonews.net

This find, recording something of the lives of three men who lived in Roman Holt, has something of the air of the Vindolanda tablets.  The thin leaves of wood used at Vindolanda on Hadrian’s Wall recorded many aspects of everyday life, also written in cursive.  A selection of them are on display in London’s British Museum.  One of them had a similar content to the Holt example, showing a list of people who owe money.  Although it is incomplete and undated, it was possible to identify Vitalis the balniator or bath house keeper and Tagomas, one of a number of cavalrymen from northern Spain who appear on the list (also mentioning the latter’s contubernalis, or unofficial wife).

Text from vindolanda showing a list of people who owe money. Source: Vindolanda.com

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Publications mentioning the brick

The inscription became something of an emblem of local Roman social history, being referred to not only in academic publication, but also heritage newsletters and leaflets in Chester.  Dr Tomlin suggested that it be included on the Roman Inscriptions of Britain website, and it has very recently been added to the site here, where it has been given the identifier Brit.26.28.

Here are two examples of publications aimed at the general public, collected by Helen, that mention the find and give a good idea of how it was regarded:

Source: Revealing Cheshire’s Past series: From Farms to Fortress leaflet, page 6 Industrial Activity. Cheshire County Council

Connecting with the past

The inscribed brick in the Grosvenor Museum, Chester. Copyright Helen Anderson

You can see the inscribed fragment today in the Grosvenor Museum in Chester, where it is on display in the ground floor Newstead Roman gallery, thanks to Helen requesting that it be displayed locally rather than in the National Museum of Wales in Cardiff.  Not only would it have been difficult for local people to visit it easily in Cardiff, but the tile-works were directly connected with the legionary fortress in Chester, so this seemed like the perfect home for the inscription.  Generations of local schoolchildren can have their imaginations fired by seeing the handwriting of several different Romans who lived here nearly 2000 years ago.

Helen explains that her own children were so excited and proud of her discovery of this piece of heritage that they somehow persuaded her that it should be on loan to the museum rather than donated, but she has since donated it outright, rightly deciding that it’s a piece of history that belongs to everyone.

If anyone wants to chat with Helen about the find, you can contact her via Twitter: @Helenus_.  You can also contact Andie on the Contacts Page, via Twitter @BasedInChurton, or leave a comment (the Leave a Reply link is immediately under the title of the post).

Other posts on this blog about Roman Chester and Holt can be found here.
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Final Comments

The object that Helen found in a field in Holt, during a short window between when turf was removed and new grass sown, has multiple identities.  Archaeologically and historically, it is one of a number of records of Roman Britain that together provide insights into Roman settlement and industry and particularly contribute to the narrative about the Holt tile-works.  At another level it is both a clue about record keeping in Roman Holt, and an ephemeral glimpse into the everyday life of three literate Roman men who were working at the tile-works and were claiming expenses.  Today, as well being a significant part of the Roman display in the Grosvenor Museum in Chester, it has made a claim for a position in Helen’s own family history.  Not a bad set of achievements for one inscribed object found lost in a field.  One wonders if the three soldiers ever did receive their expenses?———————

Sources:

Letters (in the private archive of Helen Anderson)

From Catherine Johns, Curator, Department of Prehistoric and Romano-British Antiquities, British Museum. To Helen Anderson, dated 18th June 1991

From Dr Roger Tomlin, Wolfson College, University of Oxford.  To Helen Anderson, dated 25th June 1991

From Dr Roger Tomlin, Wolfson College, University of Oxford.  To Helen Anderson, dated 10th July 1991

Books and papers:

Grimes, W.F. 1930.  Holt, Denbighshire:  Twentieth Legion at Castle Lyons.  Y Cymmrodor.  Society of Cymmrodorion.

Tomlin, R.S.O. 1995. 11.14 Holt (? Bovium), in (eds.) B. C. Burnham, L. J. F. Keppie, A. S. Esmonde Cleary, M. W. C. Hassall, and R. S. O. Tomlin Roman Britain in 1994. Britannia, Vol. 26 (1995), p. 325-390

Tomlin, R.S.O. 2018.  Britannia Romana. Roman Inscriptions and Roman Britain. Oxbow Books (Chapter 11, no.14, p.290-1)

Leaflets and newsletters:

The Past Uncovered, Autumn 1996
http://www.cheshirearchaeology.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/The-Past-Uncovered-Autumn-1996.pdf

Revealing Cheshire’s Past series: From Farms to Fortress leaflet, page 6 Industrial Activity.  Cheshire County Council

Holt: Legacy of the Legions, available from the museum, or can be downloaded.
http://old.wrexham.gov.uk/assets/pdfs/heritage/holt_castle/holt_legacy.pdf

Websites:

Coflein
Holt Roman Site NPRN 307201
https://coflein.gov.uk/en/site/307201?term=holt&pg=2

National Museum of Wales
Request for Information – Freedom of Information Request Relating to Collections – Reference 17-002, 14th February 2017
amgueddfa.cymru/media/41203/response-web-17-002.pdf

Roman Inscriptions of Britain Online
https://romaninscriptionsofbritain.org/
The Holt inscribed brick now has its own page at:
https://romaninscriptionsofbritain.org/inscriptions/Brit.26.28

Vindolanda Charitable Trust
Writing Tablets
https://www.vindolanda.com/blog/fact-file-writing-tablets

Vindolanda Tablets Online
http://vindolanda.csad.ox.ac.uk/

 

Part 4: Who was Brymbo Man, what was the Mold Cape and why do they matter?

Part 4: Pulling together some of the threads

This is the last in a 4-part series about the Late Neolithic – Early Bronze Age in northeast Wales, with special reference to Bryn y Ffynnon, Brymbo (where Brymbo Man and a very fine Beaker were located) and Bryn yr Ellyllon, Mold (where the gold Mold Cape/s and accompanying artefacts of bronze, copper and amber were found).  The Introduction and an overview of how the two sites were found are in Part 1.  Discussions of Bryn y Ffynnon and Bryn yr Ellyllon are in Part 2 and Part 3 respectively.

Left to right: The process of the reconstruction of the face of Brymbo Man from the Bryn y Ffynnon grave. Source: Wrexham Borough Museum. One of the geophysical surveys from the field in which Bryn yr Ellyllon was found. Source: Tim Young 2013. Screen-grab from British Museum video showing school children looking at the Mold cape. Source: British Museum video at the end of this post

This final part, Part 4, takes a closer look at some of the themes touched on in the previous discussions.  I have not attempted to provide a summary of the Early Bronze Age, which is done very well in numerous books, a number of which are recommended in Final Comments, the rest listed in the Sources in Part 1.  Here I have cherry-picked key issues that are relevant to discussions about the Early Bronze Age in northeast Wales.

  • Introduction to Part 4
  • Other types of site
  • The arrival of the Beaker phenomenon
  • Negotiating the role of the dead in the world of the living
  • Copper and gold in northeast Wales
  • Lost Data, Missing Data
  • Why do these sites and their associated ideas matter?
  • Wrapping Up
    • Final comments
    • Visiting
    • Useful videos
  • The sources for all four parts are listed at the end of Part 1

Introduction to Part 4

The Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age, c.2900-1400BC, are usually discussed together due to their similarities.  The Bryn yr Fynnon site that was found in Brymbo, and the Bryn yr Ellyllon site found near Mold both belong to this period, but each represents different approaches to the same tradition of burying the dead with or without barrows or cairns and in stone cists with grave goods.  In northeast Wales the archaeological remnants that define aspects of Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age life are largely funerary, with very little in the way of settlement data, which provides a distinctly lop-sided view of livelihoods.  There are only a small number of other site types in northeast Wales and these are very rare.

Other types of site

As explained in Part 1, so much data about the Late Neolithic – Early Bronze Age of northeast Wales comes from round barrows and cairns.  Although they are easily dominant, they are not the only types of sites belonging to the period.  A wide variety of site  types are found in other parts of Britain, although funerary data dominates everywhere.  There are isolated examples of some of these other types of site in northeast Wales.

Penbedw stone circle to the northwest of Mold, off the A541. Not open to the public. Source: Coflein

Stone circles are dotted throughout north Wales, but are concentrated mainly in the northwest and are rare in northeast Wales.  Timber circles are now being recognized throughout Britain, but they are rare in Wales and none have so far been identified in northeast Wales.  Timber rots in our damp climate, so stone circles are better represented but it is becoming clear that timber circles were just as prevalent, if not more so, in areas where wood was readily available.  Dating of stone and timber circles is uncertain but they were built somewhere in the 3000-2000BC range, may be large or small and are thought to have served a ceremonial role. 

Henges are rare throughout Wales.  They consist of circular spaces contained by outer banks and inner ditches with entrances, and were sometimes used to enclose earlier sites like stone and timber circles.  Dating is uncertain here too, but they span the period of somewhere around 2600-1750BC.

Settlements are only rarely identified and are usually very ephemeral, usually consisting of little more than scatters of domestic debris including pottery sherds, stone tools, small pits and some signs of hearths.  Only very occasionally does an excavation produce signs of a structure, which are often circular or broadly oval.

Stone cists (stone-line graves) without round barrows or cairns are by no means unknown.  Although in some cases the barrows and cairns have been removed in modern times, there is some evidence to suggest that in some cases the cist was never provided with a mound.  Brymbo could fall into either category.

Round barrows without burials are also found.  This implies that although the two sites discussed here have a funerary component, the barrow might have an important role of its own too, perhaps indicating territory, ancestral links with the landscape or an affinity with a broad set of ideas connected with how humans lived in and used the landscape, and built up relationships with the landscape and environment.

Cremation is the dominant funerary tradition in the latter part of the Early Bronze Age, from around 1850 to around 1500BC.  Secondary depositions in earlier round barrows, such as the one in Bryn yr Ellyllon are common, but cremations may be unassociated with any enduring monument.

There are several other types of site in Britain during this period but so far none of them have been identified in northeast Wales.

The arrival and spread of the Beaker phenomenon

Map of findspots of, amongst other things, Beaker burials, showing how they were largely confined to lowland positions in northeast Wales. Source: Lynch 2000, fig. 3.2, p.86

The skeleton found in the Bryn y Ffynnon burial in Brymbo was interred with two objects.  One was an undistinguished flint tool, lightly worked on both sides.  The other object was a very fine Beaker, a style of pottery that was introduced from Europe and began to spread throughout Britain as part of a new  tradition that initially included not merely a single burials under round barrows, but also came with distinctive, new types of grave good. This new funerary convention clearly represented very different ideas to those in the previous periods.  The Brymbo Beaker itself was discussed in Part 2. The entire Beaker period is sometimes referred to as the Chalcolithic (copper-stone age).

As Frances Lynch’s 2020 map (right) demonstrates, Beaker sites cluster along the borders and coastal areas, but do not penetrate the inner areas of Wales, although Wales is smothered with round barrows and cairns, as shown on one of the maps in Part 1.

The earliest European Beakers and associated objects appeared in Britain during the Late Neolithic – Early Bronze Age and were very distinctively shaped and last between around 2500 and 2200BC.   It is now generally agreed that Beakers mark the arrival of people from various parts of western Europe, who brought their own distinctive traditions with them.  This European origin for the Beaker tradition has been researched by a number of multidisciplinary groups including the Beaker People Project and the Beakers and Bodies Project. These research projects have used conventional analysis supplemented by radiocarbon dating and by strontium and oxygen isotope analysis on human bones, the latter discussed briefly in Part 2, to help investigate the origins and spread of the Beaker phenomenon.

All known Beakers in Wales in 2000. The Brymbo Beaker is number 14 (Step 5). Source:  Lynch 2000, fig.3.13, p.116-7, based on a 1972 scheme by Lanting and Van der Waals.

Why did these European visitors or migrants come to Britain?  There are two popular arguments, which are not mutually exclusive.  The first is that already peripatetic  individuals, perhaps traders, were attracted by the news of the ceremonial centres of Wessex, such as Avebury and Stonehenge, which have no exact parallels in western Europe.  On the other hand, it is possible that these vast monuments were a response to the incursion, rather than a reason for it.  A second is that individuals came either to sell copper objects to indigenous groups, impressing them with the sharpness of blades and the durability of tools that could be recast when exhausted, or to search for new sources of copper.

Whatever motivated people to venture from Europe into Britain, bringing new burial approaches and ideas with them, the consensus is that the Beaker phenomenon spread through Britain after what archaeologist Stuart Needham refers to as the “Fission Horizon” at 2200BC.  Perhaps these early metal users impressed indigenous people with both the utility and magic of early metalwork and different ways of conceptualizing life and death, and the transition from one to the other.  The widespread dissemination through Britain produced geographical clusters such as those in northeast England and Scotland, but the new burial tradition became ubiquitous everywhere.  As Beaker style burials found their way into new areas, communities  demonstrated their own interpretations, cherry-picking what they wanted from the European tradition until it had become something adapted for local needs, preferences and beliefs.

The spread of the tradition is usually, although not exclusively, thought to have been by emulation rather than ongoing immigration.  The reasons for the adoption and spread of these novel approaches to funerary practice and the ideas that produced them, is still poorly understood, but may have much to do with personal identity and how it is received by the dead, and conferred by the living. In northeast Wales burials were usually isolated or in pairs, rather than in the clusters that can be found elsewhere.

Negotiating the role of the dead in the world of the living

Cairns and barrows just to the north of Llangollen in the Eglwyseg range. Source: The excellent Megalithic Portal website (search term “Llangollen”)

As prehistorian Richard Bradley points out, using a handful of remarkable graves containing exceptional artefacts cannot be taken as representative of the greater majority of sites that have either more modest grave goods or no objects at all, but although they are untypical, the burials at Brymbo and Mold illustrate a point about all funerary sites of the period, which is that no two round barrow burials is the same. Although there are recognizable similarities between most sites (such as round barrows or cairns, central stone-built cists, crouched skeletons, grave-goods and secondary burials), the objects accompanying the dead represent multiple ideas and choices.  The perception of objects as mediators of human activity is well attested in all areas of modern, historical and prehistoric lives, and the selection of objects, or the absence of them, represents choices being made within broader funerary traditions.  When a living person dies, they still have a presence and a role until they have undergone some sort of transformation process, to mark the change of status.  A family, group or community may find itself trying to redefine itself in relation to the loss, even if they believe that the deceased is headed for an afterlife, and the objects deposited with the dead may have been part of that process.

The crown of the Queen Mother, 1937. Source: Historic Royal Palaces

Because of our own hierarchical society it is easy but not always wise to assume that the burial of a single person in a marked grave reflects a clearly delineated social role, such as king, queen, chieftain or priest.  When a grave is accompanied by something as rich as the Mold cape, that can be a challenging idea, because it feels instinctively as though the cape and the person belong together, the one conferring status on the other, both reflecting the dead person’s position in life.  On the other hand, what would it say about our own society if the Queen had been buried with the Crown Jewels?  It would certainly suggest that something startling was happening within the royal family, the monarchy and the nation.

Tutankhamen. Photo by Jon Bodworth.

In Part 3, Bryn yr Ellyllon and the Mold cape were compared to the burial of  the Egyptian pharaoh Tutankhamen, as an analogy.  The burial of valuable objects may sometimes be more about disposing of earlier ideas than celebrating the them.  The Tutankhamen burial illustrates how it is the living who bury the dead, and the living may have firm views on what aspects of the living world should be disposed of at the same time.  A burial may reflect a lot of complicated ideas that may therefore have very little to do with an individual’s status in life, and the role of someone in death may be very different from the position or status, if any, that they held in life.

There are many different models of appropriate funerary behaviour.  In the Medieval period, for example, Jewish communities often adhered to the Old Testament’s view that “the rich and poor meet together in death,” indicating that material goods were only valuable to the living, often resulting in few if any grave goods and minimalist grave markers.

In the case of the Late Neolithic – Early Bronze Age, although a specific burial rite and the objects interred with the dead represent conscious choice based on the meaning of that object both in terms of a living community and in terms of how that community re-positions itself after a death, it is very difficult to know whether it is the identity of the living or the dead or the relationship between the two that is being worked through.

None of this directly addresses the questions of what the Beaker meant in one grave, or why such a remarkable collection of items was buried in another, but it does suggest there are many ways of understanding what objects are doing in graves in prehistory.  Whatever the value and meaning of the objects chosen to accompany the dead, both resided not in the material alone but in how the material had been modified and objectified to become embedded with ideas that were connected to the identity of the dead, or to the object’s role as a link between the living and the dead, and to the ideas of physical and spiritual transformation.

Copper, bronze and gold in northeast Wales

The Moel Arthur axehead hoard. Source: Frances Lynch, The Later Neolithic and Earlier Bronze Age in Prehistoric Wales, p. 101, figure 3.7

Because the copper mines of the Great Orme were referred to with reference to Bryn yr Ellyllon, and because the cape was made of gold, and other objects of copper and bronze were present in the grave, a brief overview of how metals were acquired in northeast Wales seems pertinent. The earliest known worked source of copper within easy reach of Wales is in southwest Ireland at Ross Island at around 2400BC, associated with European Beaker pottery, and possibly the result of one group’s prospecting activities.  The earliest Bronze Age (often referred to as the Chalcolithic) is represented in northeast Wales mainly by finds of thick-butted flat axe heads with high copper content in non-funerary contexts, including those from Halkyn, Moel Arthur, Iscoed Park and Caerwys, dating to between 2500 and 2300BC some of which, such as the Moel Arthur hoard, were probably from Ireland.  Later examples were made locally.

In northwest Wales the most important copper mine was Parys Mountain on Anglesey, which is better known for being worked extensively in the 18th and 19th centuries.  On the western edge of northeast Wales, on the coast just west of Llandudno, were the Great Orme opencast and underground mines, radiocarbon dated to between 1700 and c.900BC, still operating several centuries after other copper mines in Britain had closed.  There is an overlap here between the earliest phases of  the Great Orme mine and Bryn yr Ellyllon, Mold.  The opencast mines, where the copper was clearly identifiable green seams of the mineral malachite and relatively easy to access.  The  doleritized limestone and shales, surrounding the ore were soft and easily removed with bone tools. More resistant stone could be detached from outcrops by setting fires against the stone, causing it to crack it into manageable chunks.  The fire-setting would have required large quantities of wood, and may have had an impact on the local environment.

Archaeological exploration at the Great Orme. Source: Great Orme Bronze Age Copper Mines

Opencast mining was followed later by underground tunnelling of galleries for more difficult to reach seams, with galleries so narrow and low (some of which were no larger than 0.3m wide and 0.7m high) that it is thought that only child labour could have been used to work them.  Tools from the Great Orme mines included hammer-stones and cattle bone tools (leg and rib bones used as pickaxes and shoulder blades as shovels) were found in their thousands, together with bronze fragments.  The tunnelling probably coincided with advances in bronze, dependent on the knowledge of how tin could strengthen tools when added to copper (ideally with 10% tin to 90% copper).  The tin was presumably sourced from Cornwall, although evidence remains elusive.

At the Great Orme there are no traces of a settlement or even a domestic refuse site, meaning that there are no clues available about how the mining activities fitted into other livelihood activities.  It is not known, for example, whether specialized teams worked the early mines, or if all suitable members the community were leveraged.  Nor is it known if this was, at least early on, a seasonal activity that was fitted in around other economic pursuits, or whether even when mining first began it was a year-round occupation.  Later, as the mines went underground, the tunnelling alone would have been very labour-intensive, implying full-time operating, but at the time of the Bryn yr Ellyllon site, matters remain opaque.

The Caergwrle Bowl, found in Caergwrle, northeast Wales. Source: National Museum of Wales

Gold was not adopted until a requirement emerged for objects of beauty and prestige rather than everyday functionality.  Gold is too soft to be of any practical use.  Only stray items survive, presumably because terminally damaged items were melted down and worked into new objects.  Several early examples are from Ireland and southwest England.  Examples of Bronze Age goldwork from northeast Wales include the Mold cape(s), the Caergwrle bowl, and an object from Ysceifiog described as a waist tore.  Gold could be found in mid and north Wales, and could be sourced from local streams in northeast Wales, with a possible source for the Mold cape gold mentioned in Part 3.

Lost Data, Missing Data

In the case of Bryn yr Ellyllon, by virtue of the fact that it was plundered rather than excavated, the site stands out as a one of Britain’s most hair-raising examples of how important formal, systematic excavation really is.  The gold cape is lovely, but it is only part of a story that has so many missing components, including both skeletal remains and textiles that were mentioned in the contemporary correspondence but were not retained.  It is agony to know that prior to 1833 the site was undisturbed and could have imparted so much valuable information about the Early Bronze Age in northeast Wales.

This issue is as relevant today as it was in 1833.  Metal detectorists and archaeologists have been working much more efficiently together over the last two decades, and the Portable Antiquities Scheme works with the public to help map object findspots and identify potential sites, but damage to a site to locate objects may be irreversible.  As the British Museum’s Neil MacGregor says

It’s why archaeologists get so agitated about illicit excavations today.  For although precious finds will usually survive, the context which explains them will be lost, and it’s the context of the material -often financially worthless- that turns treasure into history.

It is even worse when formal excavations are not published.  Even the most professionally conducted excavation is an act of destruction, and the precise recording of the site and subsequent publication are the only means by which the site can contribute to research.  The site of Llong near Bryn yr Ellyllon, which produced a jet bead necklace, was the subject of an official excavation in the 1950s but was never published.  This represents an unforgivable archaeological failing.  it was left to Frances Lynch, some 30 years later in the 1980s, to try to pull together the essentials, but even given her excellent attempt to reconstruct the findings, the gaps are sad.

The Whitehorse Hill burial bracelet made of cattle hair and studded with tin. Source: Dartmoor National Park

Data is also lost thanks to the British climate and its destructive effects on perishable items, referred to by archaeologist Linda Hurcome as “the missing majority” on the grounds that by far the greater number of structures and objects in prehistory would have been made of perishable materials that decayed centuries ago.  The textile at Bryn yr Ellyllon is one example, but a more vivid illustration is a burial on Dartmoor in Devon called Whitehorse Hill.  At that site burnt bones were wrapped in a bear pelt and were accompanied by remnants of textile attached to calf skin, a basket, a cattle hair arm band and wooden studs.

Why do these sites and their associated ideas matter?

I started off asking why the burials containing Brymbo Man and the Mold Cape and their Early Bronze Age neighbours might matter.  There are many answers to that question, and you may have a few of your own to add.  

Recreating the past: adding to the bigger picture

Our knowledge of prehistory is fluid.  The idea that the past is static is challenged every time a new site or object is found and explored in detail, and  our understanding grows as new sites and objects contribute to the picture, and new research programmes examine whatever remains poorly understood and under-investigated.  Sites and objects only really start to matter when they are put together with other sites dating to the same period to get to grips with the contemporary social and economic context, which can in turn be compared and contrasted with those of different periods to enable a better understanding of how change happens.

Neal Johnson’s useful visual timeline of the Early Metal Age, showing how bringing together excavated data can help archaeologists to understand when and how technological, economic and social changes occurred. Source: Neal Johnson 2017, p.7, fig.2 (in Sources at the end of Part 1). Click to enlarge and read clearly.

Change is one of the special domains of prehistoric archaeology, because prehistoric research deals in multiple decades and centuries rather than months and years.  Archaeological research into livelihood management and change helps to offer ideas about what drives people to make changes in economic dimensions of their lives, and how this happens.  It also helps us to understand how economic changes and the adoption of ideas, whether local innovations or arrivals from Ireland and Europe, can impact cultural changes (changes in the material record), which in turn reflect how people think, how they translate ideas and beliefs into new actions, monuments and objects.  How these differ from one area to another, and across different topographical landscapes, is another line of inquiry, helping archaeologists to piece together regional identities.

Getting to know people who were rather like us

The separation of Britain from Europe at the end of the last Ice Age. Source: Richard Bradley 2019, p.10. fig1.5

Now that chronological frameworks for different regions in Britain are being refined it is possible to take up the challenge of learning how people lived their lives and expressed their ideas.  Fully modern people, Homo sapiens sapiens, arrived in Europe some 40,000 years ago.  When the ice melted following the last Ice Age completely severed Britain from the European mainland at around 6,500 BC.  Although initially characterized by livelihoods based on hunting, foraging and fishing, with different phases marked by new tool technologies, the introduction of cereals and livestock that had originally been domesticated in the Near East provided British communities with additional means for differentiating themselves from their European neighbours.  Even so, it is clear that by the Late Neolithic, cross-channel connections had been established and continued to be maintained throughout the Bronze Age and later prehistory.

Everyday lives during the Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age were confronted with hurdles far more difficult than ours to overcome with the unsophisticated technologies available, and people had very little in the way of medicinal resources to treat injuries and health problems.   Lifespans were shorter, options more limited, and ideologies and beliefs were different, but families and communities had the same problem-solving abilities, tackled daunting decisions about risks and opportunities, and had their own traditions about how to behave under any given circumstances.  The objects that they made and modified might be simple tools for specific tasks but they might also have important roles a heirlooms, in creating identity, building up memories and negotiating the difficulties of rites of passage, including death.  The people who buried the individuals in Brymbo and Mold and their contemporaries are recognizable versions of ourselves, and they have left a rich legacy of their past presence both on and under the landscape.

Fairy Mount round barrow in Wrexham. Source: Geograph, by Geoff Evans

Almost wherever you go in northeast Wales, you are sharing the landscape with the prehistoric people who worked the land, engaged in long-distance trade, designed and manufactured both beautiful and utilitarian objects and built round barrows and other monuments, a surprising number of which have withstood the ever expanding agricultural and urban dimensions of modern life.  The round barrows are very easy to find, even in Wrexham itself.  This makes for a rich experience, with round barrows providing a real sense of how Bronze Age family groups or communities put their stamp ubiquitously on the uplands and lowlands of northeast Wales.  Sharing the past in the present is an opportunity to hear and respect the many hundreds of prehistoric voices can be heard if we take the time to listen. The fact that the past requires quite a lot of unravelling is just part of the ongoing enjoyment.

Connecting with the interested public

Brymbo’s Bryn y Ffynnon and its occupant have become more important than the sum of their parts by helping to explain prehistory to the public in the Wrexham County Borough Museum.  Both adults and children may be interested in prehistory but find it very difficult to find a way of approaching it.  By reconstructing the tomb in the museum itself, and by giving the partial skeleton a moniker, “Brymbo Man,” and commissioning a specialist to give him a face based on what remains of his cranium, the museum has used the grave to form a bridge between the present visitor and the past world of Beaker burials.  Videos and information boards, and exhibits with contemporary objects help to bring the Early Bronze Age of northeast Wales to life.  It really is terribly well done.

Screengrab from a British Museum video about the Mold Cape, shown at the end of this post.

The Mold Cape is also great PR for the Early Bronze Age in Wales.  It is a huge draw for tourists worldwide in the British Museum, and the source of fascination for British school children, as shown in the video at the end of this post.  A single piece of truly remarkable bling is not representative of this or any other period, but if it draws attention and results in questions to be asked, and children wanting to know more, it is doing a very good job for raising an awareness of prehistory and its complexities in the here and now.

Final Comments 

Frances Lynch, writing in 2004, commented: “It is difficult to clothe the bones of prehistory in flesh and blood, to provide people with a picture of society to which they can relate,” and this is clearly the case here.  By choosing two remarkable sites, a Beaker burial that is right on the edge of northeast Wales and the Mold cape assemblage, I have picked two sites that are anything but typical.  However, I hope that these two sites, each containing different levels of data preservation and each exemplifying different archaeological problems, have gone some way to explaining how fascinating prehistoric sites can be, both individually and as representatives of a bigger picture.

Two palstave axehead moulds found by a metal detectorist on Conwy Mountain near the Great Orme, and declared Treasure. Now in the collection of the National Museum of Wales. Source: National Museum of Wales, via the BBC News website

Prehistory often feels elusive, intangible, and really quite difficult to grasp, but as archaeologists employ increasingly sophisticated survey, excavation and post-excavation methodologies and approaches, and bring more  scientific techniques to bear, prehistoric livelihoods and worldviews become infinitely more accessible.  Well-presented museum displays, television productions and publications aimed at wide audiences help to support the public, of all ages, as they begin to discover not only what remarkable objects survive from prehistory, but to understand how they may help to tell us about the surprising complexities incorporated into prehistoric livelihoods.  These exist in a past that is distant, but in which people are still easy to recognize, and whose livelihoods, interests, hopes, concerns and losses may be readily identified with today.

Further reading
The full set of sources (books, academic papers and websites) that I have used for all four parts are listed at the end of Part 1.  If you are interested in learning more about the Late Neolithic – Early Bronze Age in Wales, Frances Lynch’s chapter The Later Neolithic and Earlier Bronze Age in the 2000 book Prehistoric Wales by Frances Lynch, Stephen Aldhouse-Green and Jeffrey L. Davies is a very useful introduction.  Steve Burrow’s 2011 book Shadowland, Wales 3000 – 1500BC about Welsh prehistory published by the National Museum of Wales includes good digestible accounts of the period.  Neal Johnson’s 2017 academic monograph Early Bronze Age Round Barrows of the Anglo-Welsh Border has some very good background information but focuses on round barrow clusters that are rarely found in northeast Wales.  For a comprehensive academic overview on Britain’s prehistory, Richard Bradley’s 2019 wide-ranging The Prehistory of Britain and Ireland provides an excellent foundation course.  All can be found in Sources at the end of Part 1.


Visiting

Both sites have been destroyed, so neither can be visited in the field, which underlines the importance of publishing what remains of known sites.  We are fortunate that in both cases the objects from the site were preserved and can be visited in museums.

The Brymbo cist and capstone, the skeleton found within the cist and the objects that accompanied the dead are preserved at the Wrexham County Borough Museum.  The Mold cape and associated objects are now held in the British Museum in London, and the cape has a prominent position in Gallery 51.  Details of both museums are as follows:

Wrexham County Borough Museum. Source: Wrexham Heritage and Archives Service

Wrexham County Borough Museum
The excellent Brymbo Man display in the Wrexham County Borough Museum is free of charge to visit, as is the rest of the permanent museum display.   The display includes some really good videos and information about the reconstruction of the Brymbo Man head and face, together with a holographic representation of the head. There is plenty of parking in Wrexham, and the museum is a short walk from the bus station. Hot and cold drinks, and some great cakes, snacks and lunches are available in the museum’s very attractive conservatory café.  See the Wrexham County Borough Museum website for visiting details: https://www.wrexhamheritage.wales

British Museum, London
The Mold Cape is in Gallery 51.  The British Museum’s permanent galleries are free to enter.  Parking is well nigh impossible.  The nearest Underground station is a 10-15 minute walk away, but there are plenty of buses that go past the front and back doors, and in London there are always taxis.  Within the museum, coffees and lunches are available in the cafés and the upstairs Great Court Restaurant (expensive but good, often with exhibition-themed special menus), and there are plenty of pubs, cafés and restaurants nearby.  The further afield you go from the tourist hot-spots, of course, the lower the prices become 🙂  For visiting details see the British Museum website for more  information. https://www.britishmuseum.org/


Helpful videos
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Part 3: Who was Brymbo Man, what was the Mold Cape and why do they matter?

Part 3: What we know about Bryn yr Ellyllon (and the Mold Cape)

Detail of the Mold Cape showing not only the embossed decorative themes, resembling beads, but also the holes at the top, by means of which a textile garment and/or reinforcing copper pieces could have been attached.

In Part 1 of this four part series, the early Bronze Age sites of Bryn y Ffynon (Brymbo) and Bryn yr Ellyllon (Mold) were introduced, the circumstances of their discovery described, and the two graves were set in the context of some of the early Bronze Age sites in northeast Wales.  Part 2 discussed the Bryn y Ffynon (Hill of the Well) burial, probably better known as the grave of “Brymbo Man,” one of the star exhibits in the Wrexham County Borough Museum.

This third post follows a very similar format to part 2, and takes a detailed look at Bryn yr Ellyllon, sometimes referred to as “the gold barrow,” a grave that as well as the Mold Cape produced remains of what is thought to have been a second cape, as well as around 300 amber beads, some interesting bronze and copper objects and some traces of textile.

Unlike Bryn y Ffynnon at Brymbo, where some of the skeletal remains are preserved and provide important information about the individual and the burial rituals, the remains of the individual found under the big cairn at Bryn yr Ellyllon (Hill of the Goblins/Sprites/Ghosts) just outside Mold in the Alyn valley, were disposed of at the time of the grave’s discovery.  This means that nearly all the focus is on the limited information available from the grave’s construction and, more helpfully, what the accompanying artefacts may reveal if they are to be considered in terms of knowledge rather than art.

Approximate location of Bryn yr Ellyllon just outside Mold, and just off the A541 to Chester (now no longer extant). Source: Coflein (annotated)

This post is structured as follows:

  • The grave, including both the primary and secondary burials
  • The grave goods
  • The skeleton
  • Funerary rituals
  • Dating
  • Who was the owner of the Mold Cape?  Was he or she important?
  • How did the owner of the Mold Cape make a living?
  • Final comments on Part 2

The bibliographic sources for all four parts can be found at the end of Part 1.


The cairn, the primary grave and the secondary burial

Source: Frances Lynch 2003, table 3, p.28

The original the site of Bryn yr Ellyllon is in a field behind a row of houses just outside Mold and just off the A541.  The river Alyn runs only a short walk away, at the end of the field.  The cist (burial chamber) was concealed beneath a stone cairn (circular mound of stones), revealed when the stones of the cairn were removed for use as raw material to fill in a hole at the side of the road.  A geophysical survey carried out in 2013 may have identified the original site of the cairn, suggesting that it was around 25m in diameter.  The cairn was quite a large one, but according to Frances Lynch’s summary of cairns and barrows in the Flintshire and Wrexham areas (see table right), it is by no means the largest.  Nothing is known about how the cairn was built.  It is worth noting that the nearby and broadly contemporary Llong barrow was not merely thrown together but constructed in deliberate layers, and may have been expanded over time, subsequent to the initial burial.  A sense of design is a frequent feature of the cairns and barrows built over cists, but the data here has been lost.

Unlike Bryn y Ffynnon at Brymbo, where any burial mound failed to survive, the Bryn yr Ellyllon site near Mold was marked by a burial cairn that performed the role of a conspicuous visual prompt, a device that connected the living, the dead and the landscape.  The importance of this visual device was ongoing, as demonstrated by the later, secondary cremation burial also deposited in the cairn.  Throughout northeast Wales and other regions, the sheer number of these sites suggest that it was important to broadcast ideas that were widely understood, perhaps in connection with both ancestry and territory.

Underneath the cairn it is thought that there was almost certainly  a stone-lined cist, what landowner John Langford referred to as a “rough vault,” which contained the burial.  This excerpt from John Gage’s 1835 report explains the doubts about the exact nature of the discovery:

I think, from the details set forth by Mr. Clough as to the state in which the things were found, that the chief deposit must have been protected from crushing weight.  Is it not  therefore natural to suppose that some of the large stones were so disposed that they formed something of a rude cistvaen, such as is frequently found in carns (sic), and that the labourers employed in levelling the mound, being unconscious of what they were about, did not remark it?

A rarely mentioned secondary burial appears to have been made within the cairn itself.  The secondary burial is described as being two to three yards (6-9ft / 1.8 – 2.7m) “from the spot where he [the primary burial] lay.”  As well as the distance from the cist within what is thought to have been a 25m diameter cairn (which puts it well within the cairn’s diameter), another reason for thinking that this urn burial was deposited in the same cairn is Reverend Clough’s comment that “examples of cremation and inhumation of human bodies are sometimes met within the same barrow,” implying that in this case too, both of the burials were contained within the same cairn.  

To provide some sense of how cairns and barrows could have complex use-histories, this plan shows Barrow 1 at Trelystan, Powys, with its total of 6 burials in addition to the initial central inhumation (without grave goods). Source: Neal Johnson 2017, p.131, figure 90 (bibliography is in part 1)

In the Early Bronze Age, the re-use of a cairn for additional burials within the cairn itself is an important component of its use-history, and a common feature of Early Bronze Age cairns and barrows (see Trelystan Barrow 1, left).  The second burial consisted of an urn, broken to pieces by the workmen, “and more than a wheelbarrow full of the remnants of burnt bones and ashes with it” (Gage 1835).  The bones were identified at the time of the discovery as human by an experienced local surgeon.  A general understanding of the term “urn” at the time included large and distinctively shaped vessels found in later Early Bronze Age and earlier Middle Bronze Age cremation burials, containing the cremated remains.  The burnt wood was described as “like a sponge,” which “when pressed, discharged a black fluid”.   As above, re-use may have been connected with ancestry, or with the continued importance of monuments as indicators of land-holdings. It is not known how many individuals were represented by this cremation.

 

The grave goods in the main burial

Confining comments to the primary burial in the cist, rather than the secondary urn cremation burial, the individual buried in the grave was accompanied by some spectacular grave goods, the famous gold cape, some additional gold pieces that may have been part of a second cape, around 300 amber beads, some bronze fragments and some fragments of textile.

Objects were not necessarily seen as passive by those that buried them, but as something containing meaning both individually and as an assemblage of artefacts by virtue of their links to the living.  Often these links will have been positive, linking the deceased to the landscape and the multi-layered experiences of living.  If, on the other hand, the meaning came to be perceived as dangerous or inappropriate, imbuing objects with a certain spiritual energy, then certain objects may have been seen as better off laid to rest with the dead, allowing new identities and ideas to emerge.  Either scenario, as well as many others, is possible here.

The capes

When you see the Mold Cape at the British Museum or in photographs, you are looking at the outcome of tenacious conservation and restoration work.  The cape was found in pieces of feather-thin crushed gold.  On discovery, the landowner and the workmen divided it amongst themselves.  The gold turned out to represent two objects.  The first turned out to be an item of clothing, rather like a short, tight-fitting poncho, that was made from a single sheet of gold, beaten out from a golf-ball sized ingot, and punched with repeating motifs that appear, at first glance, to be thousands of gold beads of different shapes and sizes, all of which looked like multiple strings of necklaces.  This is a sophisticated form of skeuomorph (an item made in one material to look like an item made in another material).  Skeuomorphs often capture in a new form an older craft (for example basket designs on pottery) or an expensive object captured in a less costly material (for example pottery vessels imitating stone vessels).  In this case, however, one of the most elite materials, gold, was used to capture and evoke the essence of other elite materials that made up bead necklaces (such as amber, jet, and even faience).  It is an extraordinary piece of display.

The cape with holes in the top and bottom pointed out.

When the cist was uncovered, the finders made references to textile, “a coarse cloth or serge” or “braiding,” to which the cape could have been attached via the holes in top and bottom to make a much more complex garment than we see today, perhaps full-length.  It has been suggested that the cape could have been lined with either leather or textile:  “properly speaking, it is an ornament that was attached to the body garment beneath by means of holes pierced through the edges” (John Gage, 1835).

The extreme thinness of the gold represents an attempt to make this valuable material go as far as possible, and may have been reinforced with copper or bronze in key places to help it to maintain its shape.  Reverend Clough observed that there were pieces of copper in the grave, “upon which the gold had been rivetted with small nails, and which had served as a stiffening or inner case of the armour.”  This fragility means that the cape would probably have been used only for special occasions.  Its design would have confined the upper arms to the side of the body, allowing only the lower arms to move.  This again argues that it could only realistically have been used for special occasions, because the activities in which the wearer could participate would have been minimal.  The British Museum’s Neil MacGregor likens the craftsman who made the cape to a Cartier or Tiffany, a world-class artisan, designer and producer of luxury goods.

The pieces of what are thought to have been a second cape, showing a different punched design. Source: British Museum

Pieces of gold sheet that were not part of the cape were also found, featuring a different, simpler punched pattern, and it is thought that these may have been part of another cape.  Stuart Needham’s reconstruction above shows how one of these pieces might have been incorporated into a cape design.  There is no suggestion that other parts of the cape would have been present in the grave to make up a second entire cape; they clearly were not.  Recent studies of other incomplete objects in Early Bronze Age graves, particularly jet necklaces and ceramics, have led to suggestions that objects could be split between the worlds of living and dead, functioning in each case as heirlooms.  This is discussed further in Part 4.

Other gold pieces belonging to one or other of the capes, as well as the only surviving amber bead.  Source: British Museum

The gold in the main cape weighs 700g /1 1/2 lbs, which makes it the heaviest single gold object in Early Bronze Age Britain.  The gold may have been mined and saved, or objects already in existence may have been melted down for recycling into the cape.  Gold was found in rivers and streams in Wales and Ireland, but to collect this amount would have taken a considerable amount of time.  Archaeologist and metallurgy specialist Stuart Needham attempted to locate the source of the gold employed in the the Mold cape. A potential location is the Afon Trystion and its tributary Nant-y-lladron in the Berwyn Hills, which produced low yields of panned alluvial gold.  The highest concentration of panned gold was near the headwaters of the Nant-y-lladron, not far from a cluster of sites at Moel Ty-uchaf.  In spite of the low yields, which may have been due to the exhaustion of the gold in prehistory, this remains the most probable source at the moment.

The beads

It is thought that around 300 amber beads were discovered when the grave was uncovered.  Only one of those beads survives, and is now in the British Museum.  Jewellery became more common in prehistoric graves during the Early Bronze Age, and bead necklaces made of different materials were popular in richer graves.  Exotic materials became very desirable, including gold, jet and amber.

The only remaining bead, out of around 300, of a necklace of amber beads. British Museum 1852,0615.1. Source: British Museum

Amber has specific properties, apart from its colour and translucency, that were almost certainly of particular interest to those who assembled and worked  into wearable ornaments.  Although it looks hard, it is quite soft and easily worked. According to the Getty Museum:

It has a melting-point range of 200 to 380°C, but it tends to burn rather than melt. Amber is amorphous in structure and, if broken, can produce a conchoidal, or shell-like, fracture. It is a poor conductor and thus feels warm to the touch in the cold, and cool in the heat. When friction is applied, amber becomes negatively charged and attracts lightweight particles such as pieces of straw, fluff, or dried leaves. Its ability to produce static electricity has fascinated observers from the earliest times . . . . As a result of the action of oxygen upon the organic material, amber will darken: a clear piece will become yellow; a honey-colored piece will become red, orange-red, or red-brown, and the surface progressively will become more opaque.

Photograph of amber beads from Shaw Cairn, Mellor (Stockport, Greater Manchester), which show spacer beads, dividing the necklace into two strings, and showing how the necklace could be fastened at the back. This stringing of the necklace does not claim to show how it would have looked in prehistory. Source (and more details about the site and the necklace): Mellor Archaeological Trust

It is not known whether the number of beads originally found were the total number that made up the original necklace, or if the original necklace consisted only of beads.  Early Bronze Age amber and jet necklaces often included beads of other shape.  Strings were often divided by spacer plates and had devices to connect both ends at the back of the neck.  Although the necklace shown left, from Shaw Cairn in Greater Manchester, does not claim to represent the original arrangement of the beads found in that grave, it does show some of the usual features of an amber necklace, including the spacer plates, which in this case divided the necklace into two strings.  The approximately 300 Bryn yr Ellyllon amber beads might originally have been strung into rather more strands, not unlike the arrangement of the Llong jet necklace shown further below.  The lack of spacer plates and end-piece may suggest that like the pieces of a possible second cape, the Bryn yr Ellyllon beads represent only part of another necklace, and that both parts, one remaining in the world of the living to be supplemented by new beads, the other in the world of the dead, each taking on an individual role.

The nearest source of amber was the Baltic, although it may have been available along the east coast of England too, brought from the Baltic by the ice sheets of the previous glaciation, from where it eroded out of coastal cliff faces on to beaches below.  Like the cape itself, its burial in the grave withdrew it from the world of the living, confining it to the realm of the dead.  The amber would have looked sensational, particularly under sunshine or firelight.  Whether imported from the Baltic or the east coast of England, amber can be classified as a luxury good.

The bronze fragments

Bronze pieces from Bryn yr Ellyllon. Source: British Museum

The sixteen bronze fragments form another partial jigsaw.  Bronze, an alloy of tin and copper, was almost never used for the manufacture of jewellery during the Early Bronze Age, and these are more likely to be knives or similar hand-held weapons or tools.  As already mentioned, Clough also surmised that some pieces of copper nailed to bits of gold may have helped to reinforce the flimsy cape.

The copper required to manufacture the  bronze was sourced from the Great Orme, the most important copper mine in Wales, and is thought to have been the largest copper mine in northwest Europe from 1800-1600 BC.  although estimates vary, its vital statistics are always remarkable.  In the 1990s, Andrew Lewis estimated that 12,600 tons were excavated from the tunnels and 28,000 from the open cast mine.  More tunnels have been found since then, so these estimates will have risen.  To make bronze, a coper-tin alloy, copper was combined with tin, all of which came from southwest England, particularly Cornwall, and was traded to various parts of Europe as well as other parts of Britain.  The dependency of bronze on both southwest English tin and northeast Wales copper, argues for some long-used routes along the coasts of west Wales and southwest England.

Copper alloy pieces from Bryn yr Ellyllon. Source: British Museum

The pieces of bronze were fragmented, but some are thought to have represented the business ends of tools or weapons.  Bronze was only very rarely used for making ornaments.  In the British Museum photograph above they have been arranged to show how at least one set of fragments could represent a curved blade.  It is not known whether or not the objects were broken prior to their addition to the grave, or whether they represent either normal decay or rough handling when they were discovered. If they were blades, they may have been broken deliberately prior to deposition. 

It has also been suggested that some of these bronze fragments may have formed a reinforcing backing for the gold.

Other objects?

The metal and amber objects were taken from the grave by the workmen, but what about any other grave goods?  Apart from the known but lost skeletal remains, pieces of gold (some of which were taken away at the time and made into rings and breast pins), and some textiles remnants, there is no record of anything else in the grave.  Although there is no way of knowing for sure, it is entirely possible that objects that would have been archaeologically valuable but would have seemed mundane to the Victorian discoverers, such as stone tools and pieces of pottery, may have been disposed of in the same rough and ready way as the skeleton.  It is clear that in the Early Bronze Age, burials were often accompanied by partial objects as well as whole ones, and this type of fragmentary data, such as pottery sherds, may have been rejected by the grave’s finders.

An example of Early Bronze Age textile from Over Barrow, Cambridgeshire. Source: Cambridgeshire Archaeology Unit, via Current Archaeology magazine

The loss of the perishable textile remains is particularly agonizing, partly because perishable items in British prehistory are so rare.  Linda Hurcombe refers to this lost dataset as “the missing majority” because the greater percentage of objects and domestic building materials in prehistoric Britain would have been perishable.  The textile would have added invaluable knowledge not just on Bryn yr Ellyllon but on the subject of both textile manufacture and ceremonial garments in general.  It is difficult to imagine that any garment that was attached to the cape would have been anything other than remarkable.  Only one of the few known textile items from Britain was made of cow hair; the rest were made of plant materials, including wild nettle fibre, which produces a soft and silky texture, and cultivated flax, which produces linen.

Nothing can be done with these thoughts, except to acknowledge that the manner in which the site was discovered may have left us without other objects that could have contributed additional knowledge.  With all sites we are dealing with partial information, but this is particularly worth bearing in mind for sites that were plundered rather than excavated, like Bryn yr Ellyllon.

 

The skeleton

A skeleton was found in the grave under the cairn in 1833, described by the landowner who saw it as “the bones of a man,” although he cannot possibly have known whether the bones represented male or female remains, the description suggests components of a recognizable skeleton, even if only the skull and a few additional bones.  Reverend Clough describes how the cape

contained within it a considerable number of small bones, vertebrae etc, but none of them longer than from two to three inches. The scull [sic], of no unusual size, lay at the upper end, but no bones of the extremities were noticed.

The skeletal remains were disposed of at the time, potentially meaning that an enormous amount of information has been lost.  The British Museum apparently holds “small fragments of skull remaining after laboratory analysis” (museum number 1881,0516.2).  Whether this refers to the skeleton associated with the cape, or the second burial found nearby is not stated, but it is implied by the entry for the skull fragments on the Museum’s database, which describes the cape rather than the bones.  There is no indication of what the “laboratory analysis” may have been.

The questions that remain unanswered include:  whether the skeleton was male or female; whether there were any congenital defects; if he or she had experienced any injuries or illnesses during life; how old the person was at the time of death; the cause of death; or how well-built or tall he or she was.  There is also no possibility of any scientific analysis of the sort potentially available for Brymbo Man, such as radiocarbon dating, DNA testing or oxygen isotope analysis.

The cape being positioned on a woman to demonstrate how it would have looked on someone of her size, male or female, and demonstrating how the upper arms would have been pinned down, leaving only the lower arms free to move. Source: British Museum

The only remaining clue about the physical character and appearance of the owner of the cape is the cape itself.  It was small (18ins/46.5cm wide x 9ins/23.5cm high) and could not have been worn by someone of, for example, Brymbo Man’s stature.  Instead, it must have been worn by a woman, a teenager or a man who was small in stature and build.  In an era where the average age of death was much younger than today and children were expected to participate in work (as demonstrated by some of the tunnels at the Bronze Age Great Orme copper mine, into which only a child could fit) a teenager, male or female, was likely to be a fully functional member of society.

We know that there was a secondary burial within the cairn in the form of a burial urn containing a cremation, but what about the possibility of other less obviously identifiable burials within the cairn?

Funerary rituals

A snapshot from the Geophysical survey report, showing a summary interpretation of major features. Source: Tim Young, 2013

Reverend Clough noted that whatever remained of the human bones, there were no signs of fire.  He suggests that because no extremities of the skeleton were observed where they would have been expected, “the figure had been doubled up.”  These are the only statements that Clough makes on the subject but both are consistent with an Early Bronze Age crouched inhumation. The inability to analyze the bones means that it is not known whether the body was laid facing east or west; how the bones were arranged in the grave;  whether any bones had been excluded or deliberately removed at a later date;  whether the bones were arranged in a particular way; how the artefacts were positioned in relation to the body; and whether there was any ritual treatment of the bones like excarnation or de-fleshing (such as in the case of the Brymbo burial).  

It is certain that the deposition of such a remarkable collection of grave goods with the dead was accompanied by formal ceremonies in which both the person and the objects were transitioned from the world of the living into the world of the dead.  Many of the activities connected with this transition could well have place elsewhere, with only the final stages taking place at the cairn itself, and this itself may have been subject to various spiritually inspired activities to prepare it for its role.

The first task, other than any ceremonies to prepare the ground, would have been to source the slabs making up base, sides and capstone (stone lid) or other form of lid of the cist (stone chamber), and dig the hole that these stones were to line.  The dead person could then be laid to rest.  In the Early Bronze Age the body would be typically crouched, with knees to chest, laid on his or her side.  The dead may have been clothed or covered, but the perishability of textiles means that this remains speculation.  Grave goods could then be deposited with the dead, before the grave was covered with a lid, if used.  If a lid was used, this was probably wood or another perishable material, because there is no record of it in any of the contemporary documents.  The cairn could then be built over the top, often to a particular plan with layers distinguished within the construction.  Each one of these steps, including layering the cairn, could have been accompanied with activities to mark each stage of the transition.  When the cairn was finished, and was a feature of the landscape, it would have stood out as a new element in the landscape for some time before becoming integrated into human memory as a component of the landscape of the past and present.

Early Bronze Age grave goods vary from grave to grave, but it would be idle to deny that those in Bryn yr Ellyllon were anything other than remarkable.  Even today, the surviving metalwork yells wealth, luxury and status, particularly as it was taken out of social and economic circulation by being deposited in the ground with the dead.  Once buried, and not retrieved, these goods could not be inherited, gifted or traded, or even melted down and re-used.  This magnificent collection was lost forever to the living, confined to the realm of the dead.  The burial of such a magnificent and rare piece was a statement, an important ceremonial act, and probably incorporated a series of ritual activities, themselves tools of transition.


Dating

Although bone did survive in the cairn the majority of organic remains were disposed of at the time.  The British Museum records having a piece of skull in its collection (museum number 1881,0516.2), but although I have been unable to find out anything about it, it appears to have been the only survivor, and this was clearly not used for radiocarbon dating (which requires partial sacrifice of the sample).  Instead, a date range of 1900-1600 BC has been proposed for the site by Stuart Needham, based on comparison with objects at other sites that have more secure dating material.  In spite of the embossed decoration on the cape, which might suggest a later date, the presence of jet, amber and the composition of the gold itself, as well as the organization of the burial, suggest an earlier date, perhaps in the final Early Bronze Age.  This date, however, is not secure and could be modified by the discovery of comparable sites that might also produce more secure radiocarbon dates that could help assign a more directly comparable time-range.

Who was the owner of the Mold Cape? Was she/he important?

The cape being modelled, showing how upper arm movement would have been restricted. Source: British Museum

The short answer is certainly yes.  The loss of anyone in a tight-knit community would have been a blow to a community where each individual was an important contributor to health, wealth, communal knowledge and well-being. However, the discovery of something so beautiful and luxurious as the cape has led to a lot of speculation about who or what its owner may have been.  Leadership roles, both secular (chief/prince/king) and religious (priest), have been proposed.  In each case the cape and other objects were suggested as the prehistoric equivalent of symbols of power or badges of office.  The burial of Queen Elizabeth II is a good example of how a community might mark the transition from living to dead of an individual representing a prominent hierarchical position.  Does the deposition of the Bryn yr Ellyllon capes, beads and bronze items represent a comparable situation, suggesting that the relationship between the person and the capes was so fundamental that the two could not be separated in death?  Was each so bound up in the identity of the other that the capes and other goods could not be inherited by, or transferred to another person in the community?

Although these ideas of individual importance and hierarchical significance are entirely plausible, emphasising the role of the individual in an important role in a way very that equates to ways in which European society is arranged with political, social and religious leaders this may be an over-simplification based on modern experiences and expectations of monarchies, political entities and religious authorities.  Not all societies, however, particularly small communities, are organized along the same lines, particularly when there is an enormous amount of inter-dependence of skills and economic activities that are not centrally organized.  As I suggested in Part 2, Early Bronze Age burials may have been about a lot more than a single person.  Even when a single individual takes up the central cist, secondary burials may be made within the burial cairn, and the original individual may represent an anchor for ideas about territory, ancestry and memory.  Again, in the case of Bryn yr Ellyllon, there is the question of why not only one cape but two are thought to have been represented.

Some items in history acquire a meaning and value all of their own which transcend the time-limited personality or role of any given individual.  Instead, these items help to define their role in relation to others (people, social/religious structures and political institutions) and even to frame ideas about the future.  Examples of such objects that transcend either an individual or a specific role but represent unity are the Olympic flame, the Remembrance Day poppy, or a national flag.  Burying a symbol may say a lot about what was happening in the world at that time, and less about the specifics of who was lying there, particularly given that two capes suggest not just that more than a single identity was involved.

Detail of an ivory box lid, showing Tutankhamen receiving flowers from his wife Ankhesenamun. Source: Wikipedia

The relationship between a dead person, the objects and the living world are complex.  An illustration of this sort of complexity is the burial of the Pharaoh Tutankhamen in Egypt, who was also interred with objects of great richness and beauty, including exotic items unavailable locally, most of which were artistically characteristic of the preceding heretical Amarna period, of which Tutankhamen was the last male descendent.  Even though Tutankhamen renounced his father’s heretical ideas, the king was tainted with his family’s recent past.  The grave in which the king was deposited in a wadi (dry valley) reserved for royal burials was not the ambitious grave that Tutankhamen had been building for himself; that was appropriated by one of the officials who buried the king.  Instead, the tomb in which he was buried was small, incomplete, very poorly decorated and vastly inferior to those belonging both to his ancestors and those who ruled subsequently.  The highly distinctive Amarna style items that accompanied him may have been deposited with the king to dispose of them for good.  It is very probable that many of the hastily assembled goods jumbled in the tiny tomb were inserted by those who wished to dispose of the discordant memories of the Amarna period with more speed than dignity.  What are to us things of invaluable beauty so characteristic of the Amarna period were seen at that time as representing everything that the new governing elite wished to eliminate from history.  

This is a very specific example, but it serves to illustrate how even very rich burials may have any number of themes running through them.  Colin Harris and Adam Kaiser, for example, proposed in 2020 that some particularly rich burials may represent a form of conflict resolution, and offer a persuasive discussion, using Viking data as a test case.

Although it cannot be ruled out that the Bryn yr Ellyllon burial was of an important individual who had the cape made for herself or himself, it is by no means the only answer when the burying is done not by the dead but by the living according to criteria that has as much to do with the ideas incorporated in the objects themselves and their role in the community as a whole, of whom the dead might continue to be, or not continue to be a representative.

How did the owner of the Mold Cape make a living?

The Llong Necklace (a speculative recreation of the original design). Source: Curious Clwyd

Bryn yr Ellyllon was not the only site near Mold that produced exotic (non-local) and ornamental items.  The nearby Llong grave near Bryn yr Ellyllon, where a multi-stranded necklace was found, this time made of jet (and some shale), contribute to the impression that this was an area where people could leverage their own resources to purchase luxury goods, and there may have been many aspects to their economic life to build such purchasing power.

Unlike Bryn y Ffynnon in Brymbo, which was on a hillside overlooking the valley of the river Alyn, Bryn yr Ellyllon sat in the river valley itself.  This was a potentially good place for  agrarian activity, but was also in easy reach of uplands that would have been ideal for livestock grazing.  However, the investment in the cape, both in terms of acquisition of gold and particularly the specialized skill needed to work it argue that this was a high value item, and was the product of something other than localized farming activities.  Similarly, the means to assemble 300 amber beads that were not available locally argues for considerable influence and resources that would enable negotiations to take place in trading transactions.

Looking around for a possible source of unusual wealth, the most obvious candidate to strike most writers is the Great Orme copper mining industry, and the networks that connected that industry to the world beyond north Wales.   The copper mines were 40 miles (64km away), so not on the doorstep, which requires some form of explanation, but if the inhabitants of this area of the Alyn valley were also involved in agrarian and livestock management activities, aspects of both sedentism and mobility could have been incorporated into livelihoods that also included longer distance links.

Final Comments on Part 3

Both Bryn y Ffynnon (Brymbo) and Bryn yr Ellyllon have produced some unusual objects in association with primary cist burials in northeast Wales.  These are not typical of the greater majority of sites in northeast Wales, but both serve to illustrate how disparate datasets offer different insights into the past.  Without a skeleton, the cape still gives a sense of the dimensions of the wearer, but many other details have been lost.  The objects themselves are so unusual that it is difficult to fit them into a general pattern of livelihoods and activities in northeast Wales, but they do represent substantially specialized skills and the ability to source unusual raw materials, both of which argue the ability of the community to accumulate a form of wealth.  There are more questions than answers regarding the site, but although it appears to stand out, it must still be understood in the wider context of the Early Bronze Age of northeast Wales, which will be discussed further in Part 4 (upcoming).

Perhaps the biggest lesson of Bryn yr Ellyllon is that there are many reasons why rich objects may be buried in graves, and these are not all to do with the importance of an individual as a chief or priest, or other specific role.  It is risky to draw conclusions of this sort, when there are many other possible explanations to consider.

The second important point that this site highlights is the importance of publication of any excavation activity.  Excavation is by definition destructive, and what remains for posterity is the record of that excavation, which must be published in order to become available to researchers.  Whereas Bryn y Ffynnon was subject to excavation by the National Museum of Wales, and published only a few years later in 1946, Bryn yr Ellyllon was ransacked in the early 1800s, not excavated.  It it is only thanks to the Reverend Clough taking an interest that many of the grave goods were rescued, and to John Gage’s letter to Sir Henry Ellis, that we know what we do.

In the next and final part, part 4, some of the various strands are brought together, which discusses the sites in terms of key themes of the Early Bronze Age, and provides details of the museums where the objects from the two sites can be visited.

 

 

 

 

Part 2: Who was Brymbo Man, what was the Mold Cape and why do they matter?

What do we know about Bryn y Ffynon and Brymbo Man?

The skull of the Brymbo skeleton. Source: detail of a photo from the Wrexham County Borough Museum website.

In Part 1 of this four-part series, two Late Neolithic – Early Bronze Age burial sites were introduced: Bryn y Ffynon (the grave of the so-called Brymbo Man), and Bryn yr Ellyllon (the grave in which the Mold gold cape was found).  A map of their locations was shown, the circumstances of their discovery was described, and the two graves were set in the context of similar sites in northeast Wales.

This post looks more closely at the Bryn y Ffynon, best known as the grave of Brymbo Man, one of the star exhibits in the Wrexham County Borough Museum.  Part 3 looks at Bryn yr Ellyllon, the grave that produced the Mold Cape.  I the fourth and final part, the various strands will be brought together in a conclusion, together with visiting notes.  The bibliography for all four parts can be found at present at the end of part .

Contents of Part 2:

  • The grave
  • The grave goods
  • The skeleton
  • Funerary rituals
  • Dating
  • What did Brymbo Man look like?
  • Who was Brymbo Man? Was he important?
  • How did he make a living?
  • Final comments on Part 2
  • (Sources are listed at the end of Part 1)


The grave

Brymbo Man was buried in a stone-built grave called Bryn y Ffynon (Well on the Hill)  on the north side of Ruabon Mountain, now the site of a housing estate in Brymbo to the northwest of Wrexham.  No burial mound, either of earth or stone, has survived, and it is not known if there ever was one.  In the northeast of England there were cemeteries of flat graves, so a burial mound might not have been essential everywhere, but in northeast Wales mounds of earth (barrows) or stone (cairns) were usual, even though not all of them remain.  Some mounds were built in complex layers using different materials, and importantly could contain secondary burials, usually cremation burials, that were added to the mound, sometimes involving the extension of the mound. The loss of a burial mound often equates to the loss of valuable data.  Stone cairns in particular were often robbed for their stone for much later building material, sometimes leaving a hidden cist unsuspected beneath the surface.  Given the upland location of the site, if the grave was covered, it probably lay under a cairn.

The cist (burial chamber) itself was made of roughly hewn slabs of local stone lining the walls and floor of the grave, and measured 96 x 79cm (38 x 31 inches).  The cist was aligned north-south.  A very large and uneven slab of stone, called a capstone, was placed over the top of the cist, sealing the burial before any burial mound was built over the top, itself measuring 5ft 6ins (167cm)  long, 3ft 3ins wide (c.1m) and 9ins (23cm) thick.

The Grave Goods

There were only two items found in the grave with Brymbo Man, which are on display with the skeleton.  One is a ceramic vessel known as a Beaker and the other is a flint tool.  This is fairly typical of Early Bronze Age graves.  Without access to the excavation report (unpublished) one assumes that the relationship between the objects and the skeleton in the cist was recorded, and that this is what has been reproduced by the museum, with a flint knife placed not far behind the skull and the Beaker placed towards at the base of what remains of the skeleton.

The Beaker

On the left: The Bryn y Ffynnon Beaker. Source:  Rebecca Van Der Putt (with congratulations, because I couldn’t get any sort of angle on it). Source: The Modern AntiquarianOn the right:  Savory’s photograph of the Bryn y Ffynnon Beaker.  Source: Savory, H. N. 1959.

Brymbo Man was accompanied in his grave by a very distinctive ceramic form known as a “Beaker,” more precisely a short-necked Beaker.  The Beaker tradition was an import from Europe, marking one of the changes in the centuries at the end of the Neolithic and beginning of the Early Bronze Age.  Where a Beaker is buried with the individual, it may be accompanied by a variety of other goods, but is often the only object found.  This suggests that the beaker itself was pivotal in establishing the identity and purpose of the grave and its owner.  Skeletons in Beaker graves were flexed / crouched, (with their knees bent and their legs pulled up to their chests).

The process by which Beaker burial traditions arrived in Britain is still poorly understood.  Options are that the tradition was imported by visitors or immigrants; or that it was brought back from the continent by British (using the term loosely) travellers who found certain affinities with the funerary practises that they observed.  The idea of foreign people being buried with the new Beaker style burial is given some credence by beaker burials from the Stonehenge region, and in particular the Amesbury Archer, who was buried with a range of goods traditionally associated with beakers, and was subjected to isotope analysis that indicated his origins were probably in the Alps.  In addition, a multi-disciplinary DNA analysis research project in 2017 proposed that a significant percentage of the indigenous population of Britain was, by the Middle Bronze Age, replaced by those who brought the Beaker tradition with them at the end of the Neolithic:  “the genetic evidence points to a substantial amount of migration into Britain from the European mainland beginning around 2400 BCE.” (Olalde et al).  As is so often the case with this sort of DNA research, as highlighted in the study itself, there are questions remaining about the extent to which it is possible to extrapolate from the data used, including sampling issues (statistical, geographical and relating to the quality of the material).

The Beaker on the left is from Balblair in eastern Scotland, is not dissimilar from the Brymbo Beaker. althoug its neck is shorter, the carination less pronounced and the decorative incisions slightly different. Source: Inverness Museum and Art Gallery

The new burial tradition found favour, whatever it represented.  The new funerary regime could not have spread so far and and wide throughout Britain and Ireland without people in all those regions being complicit.   Whatever the mechanism of transmission, by the end of the Neolithic the continental Beaker and associated objects had become desirable, and were found extensively under round barrows, as well as occasionally in other contexts, in many parts of Britain.

Beakers were hand-made (i.e. not wheel-thrown), built up from a single ball of clay that was hollowed out and shaped before being fired.  There is a video at the end that demonstrates how Beakers may have been assembled and decorated.  A certain amount of skill went into the construction, which is a very specific shape, and the decoration must have taken considerable patience, but what is most remarkable about it is its faithful reproduction of an idea that had spread through Europe and was now perfectly at home in burials of northeast Wales.  The Beaker may have had slightly different ideas associated with it different areas, but it clearly imparted a message either about the deceased, the role or status enacted by the deceased in life, the status conferred upon the deceased after death, the place where the burial was made, as well as ideas and ideologies inherited with the Beaker tradition.

The flint knife

On the left. The plano-convex stone tool found in Bryn y Ffynnon, illustrated in Savory 1959. On the right, a photograph of the same, although note that the photograph appears to have been accidentally inverted (i.e. it is the wrong way round, which sometimes happens when photos are digitized). Source: Wrexham County Borough Museum

A flint tool was found in the grave.  It is plano-convex (flat on one side and curved on the other).  Flint was the preferred stone for tool manufacture in Britain.  In Cheshire, and less frequently in northeast Wales, it could be found locally in river beds and on beaches as pebbles, which are useful for making small tools, but for more ambitious pieces it would be imported from areas where flint was part of the geological fabric.  The reason for its popularity is the way in which it responds when it is struck in order to shape it into a tool.  The term for it is conchoidal fracturing, which means that the shock-wave of its fracture creates a slightly concave “bulb of percussion” from which concentric lines that ripple out from the point of impact.  The waste products left over from tool manufactured, undifferentiated flakes, are usually referred to as “debitage.”  Some of these could be further worked into other smaller tools, but others might be abandoned and are useful datasets about tool manufacture in their own right. Some tools are very distinctively shaped, like barbed and tanged arrowheads, but others are far more generic, like the one accompanying Brymbo Man.  Stone tools were often hafted in wood to make, for example, arrows, spears and axes.

Terminology used to described features of worked prehistoric tools. Source: Martingell 2001, p.10

Small plano-convex tools were common in the Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age, particularly from the northeast, and often towards the end of the period.  When the edges are worked to form a sharp edge, they are usually termed knives, but many, including this one, were probably multi-purpose tools.  A particular industry referred to as “plano-convex” tools, formerly “slug knives,” is characterized by tools made with specialized pressure-flaking over one face of the tool, which have a very distinctive appearance and are particularly associated with the northeast and food vessels.  Nothing special went into the manufacture of this item, which is a very everyday piece, and although it is technically plano-convex, it is not characteristic of the more elaborate objects that are usually associated with the term.  I cannot find an image of the reverse side of the flint, but it looks more like a flake (a piece struck from a core piece of flint without much additional work) than a properly manufactured and shaped tool.

The Skeleton

Skeleton of “Brymbo Man” in the Bryn y Ffynnon cist. Source: Wrexham County Borough Museum

The skeleton as it survives today is incomplete, as shown in the photograph on the left.  Even with only a partial skeleton to study it could be determined that the deceased was a male who, at the time of his death, was 5ft 8ins/173cm tall, and was strong and powerful, indicated both by the shape of his skull and by the muscle attachments to both his skull and his leg bones.

Brymbo Man is thought to have been 35 years of age at the time of his death. There are different estimates of life expectancy for this period, but it is probable that 35-40 was a good age.  His age was determined both by the degree to which the bones in his skull had fused and by the wear of his teeth.  He had once suffered a wound above hairline on his forehead, thought to have been caused by an arrowhead, but this had healed and was not the cause of his death.  No cause of death was identified.  He could, for example, have died from an injury that left no traces on what remains of his skeleton, or from illness or disease.

Illustration to help explain strontium isotope analysis. Source, and helpful article: PBS Time Team America

Isotope analysis has not been carried out on the Brymbo skeleton.  Isotopic ratio analysis has become very popular for an increasingly popular for the study of past human and livestock migrations.  The technique was used, for example, on the tooth enamel of a skeleton found near Stonehenge, known as the Amesbury Archer, and indicates that this person spent his childhood in the Alps.  It has also been used by the Beaker People Project, which has concluded that dsfsadfsd.  It also be used on livestock remains, helping to show patterns of mobility such as transhumance.  Like radiocarbon dating, isotopic analysis requires a sample of human material, which is destroyed in the process, and so far Wrexham County Borough Museum has decided not to subject the Brymbo remains to avoid harming the remaining bones.  The choice between preservation and knowledge is a difficult one to make.

Funerary Rituals

Rituals for the dead can be important for ensuring that  the living transition successfully into an afterlife, but they may also be important for the living, allowing communities to come to terms with the loss of a community member, to create ancestral links with a particular landscape, and to formalize any exchange of role from the dead person to a living replacement.  These ideas are familiar from the rituals that we engage in today when we attend a funeral.  In prehistory, it is likely that there were other reasons and meanings embedded into the ritual activities accompanying the deposition of the dead.  There was certainly an internal logic to the burials contained within the stone chambers during this period, and the Brymbo burial shares many of these features.

The presence of the Beaker puts it within a burial tradition that is quite distinctive.  The dead were buried by themselves, usually under a barrow or cairn, in a small chamber (cist) with a Beaker vessel and sometimes other objects.  This European tradition was adopted slowly throughout Britain, and Beakers were adapted by local people to conform to their own traditions.  There are numerous variants.  Quite what this tradition meant to living communities is unknown.  It may have indicated some sort of specific role in society for the deceased, and it may even indicate, in this case, that the the deceased was either involved in networks of communication and exchange with other areas, or was not native to the northeast Wales or border area.

Savory’s 1959 illustration of the cist and capstone in the excavation report, showing the objects and skeletal remains in situ.

The skull was laid on its side, with the head to the north, facing east and, if the museum display reflects how the skeleton was found, the rest of the bones were apparently laid to give the impression of a crouched burial.  Although there are exceptions, males were usually laid with their heads facing east, females with their heads facing west.

Only 13% of the Bryn y Ffynnon skeleton was interred in the grave.  This is not an accident of survival of decay, but a deliberate decision by those who buried the remains.  This is not unusual.  Analysis of the skeletal remains by osteology specialist Corinne Duhig found that  some of the bones bore cut marks that had been made by a sharp tool, which may indicate de-fleshing the bones.  The disarticulation  of the skeleton, the missing bones, and and the signs of defleshing imply that between death and interment multiple activities took place.  None of this was by any means unusual in the period, or indeed from the preceding Early Neolithic.   One explanation for this type of activity is that the person died some distance from home and that the body was prepared somewhere else for travel prior to burial;  another is that the practices were part of a set of rituals that marked the transition from life to death, possibly including a transition to an afterlife.  It is also entirely possible that the body may have been laid to rest elsewhere and moved here at a later date.

Splitting of bodies between multiple places is not as strange as it sounds and has parallels, for example, in Medieval Britain. For example, when Earl Ranulf III of Chester (1170-1232) died away from home, his body was eviscerated (internal organs removed) so that it could buried in three locations.  His entrails were buried where he died in Wallingford, his heart was buried at Dieulacrès Abbey in the Midlands and his embalmed body was then returned to Chester for burial in St Werburgh’s Abbey. This was completely consistent with the traditions of the period.

The pre-interment activity at Brymbo does beg the question of how close the association between the dead person and the objects in the grave actually was.  If there was a considerable period between death and interment, it may be that the objects had more to do with the living than the dead, and that they were simply conventional contributions in which ideas were embodied in the artefacts about the site itself, rather than statements about the deceased.

Dating

Chronology of ceramics in Britain, Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age. I have indicated the Beaker type most similar to the one in the Brymbo grave. Source: Parker-Pearson et al 2016

The skeleton has not been subjected to radiocarbon dating, but is thought to date to around 1900BC on the basis of artefacts that accompany the burial.  Relative dating of this sort is achieved by comparing the objects in graves with similar graves that have been subjected to radiocarbon dating.  Radiocarbon dating is a scientific method, known as absolute dating, that measures the amount of atmospheric carbon-14 remaining within organic materials such as bone or wood to obtain a date.  A brief but useful explanation can be found Oxford Radiocarbon Accelerator Unit website.  A sample of organic matter (such as skeletal or plant material) is required for the dating procedure, and this sample is destroyed in the process of obtaining a date.  Recent improvements in the technique need much smaller samples, but some curators are reluctant for even small samples to be destroyed.  Signage at the Wrexham County Borough Museum explains that the museum has decided, at the time of writing, not to have the Brymbo Man scientifically dated.  Instead, the relative (inferred) date given above has been based mainly on the Beaker.  Beakers have been studied extensively.  They appear from 2500BC, and there are multiple different styles, some of which can be charted over time.  The Brymbo Beaker, placed at around the 1900BC mark, is well into the Early Bronze Age and on the edge of the period when this style of pottery was going out of fashion.

What did Brymbo Man look like?

The Brymbo skull was used by facial reconstruction expert Dr Caroline Wilkinson at the Unit of Art in Medicine at Manchester University, to create an estimate of Brymbo Man’s appearance.   Although the skull is incomplete, what remained was enough for Dr Wilkinson to use.  The skull itself was fragile, but robust enough for a cast to be made.  The position and size of the muscle attachments helped to build a sense of the musculature in the face which, along with bone structure and overall body weight, help to determine the shape of the face.  The shape and size of all apertures in the face, such as eyes, mouth and nose, and the spatial relationship between them, also contribute to how a face would have looked.  Once the underlying structure of the face had been determined, the skin, represented by clay, was added.  There are some things that are not determined by the underlying structure, like lips and ears.  Once the model head was completed, a make-up artist was responsible for hair and the colour of eyes, complexion and hair.  This is not a definitive representation, but it is based on the available data, and it gives an excellent sense that the skeleton was once a living man.

Who was Brymbo Man?  Was he important?

Given that 1000s of people during the Bronze Age were not buried (the landscape would have been stuffed full of mounds if they had), we know that a selection process had been implemented, and this selection process put Brymbo Man in this grave.  Unfortunately we do not know the selection criteria for those who were deposited in graves.

One might wonder if he was the leader of his community, but he might equally be an elder respected for his experience and knowledge, a ritual specialist responsible for the religious well-being of the community, or a wealthy trader who conferred status on the group without necessarily having a position of hierarchical power.  Perhaps it was not his place in society that marked him out, but an action or event in which he took part.  Or was his death itself significant in some way?  Perhaps he was the first person to die after the establishment of a claim over a new territory.  Equally he might be a person or an idea regarded by the community for reasons that we might never imagine, because we can never know how people were categorized or how they related to the ideas of the community and the broader social conventions to which they were connected.

The capstone that sealed the stone grave, 5ft 6ins (167cm)  long, 3ft 3ins wide (c.1m) and 9ins (23cm) thick.

Whatever he represented, whether as a valued family member, an important representative of the community, or a symbol of something rather less conceivable, the burial itself was clearly important.  Assembling the grave was no light-hearted exercise.  Even without a barrow, cutting the stone for the the stone-lined cist, which would then have to be assembled, would have been a significant activity.  Even more impressive, the quarrying of the stone for the capstone and moving the capstone into position would have required many hands, probably some lifting technology, and a great deal of incentive and determination.

We know that Brymbo Man had sustained an injury to his skull, which he survived.  The nature of the injury suggests that it might have been made by an arrow, which could have been received in a hunting accident, or in conflict.  There are numerous reasons why people might resort to violence, including livestock raiding, disputes over territory as well as personal grievances, but there is no matching data from other burials in the area, such as evidence of similar injuries, to indicate wider scale disputes.  Although his injuries could have been connected to his role or status, and might have been a criterion by which he was selected for a round barrow burial, we simply have no way of knowing whether or not this was the case.

This photo shows a cairn that is better preserved than many located in exposed positions. Cefn y Gader 1 near Llangollen. Source: Megalithic Portal, photograph by “Postman”

Beyond speculation there is little information that the presence of a burial with a single Beaker and a single stone tool can divulge about who the deceased may have been in life.  It is not even clear whether he was important in his own right or whether his burial represented a set of ideas and traditions, quite unlike our own, that led to his burial in this location.  As things stand, we cannot form an opinion about whether he was any more important to his contemporaries than the event that placed him in the grave.  What can be stated with some confidence is that the grave itself, and the dome of earth or stone that probably encased it, were significant to the people who built it, standing proud on a landscape that was inhabited by people, and to whom it would have communicated messages that we can no longer read.

What do we know about how Brymbo Man made a living?

We know something about Brymbo man’s vital statistics, and how he was treated after death, but so far we have not had the opportunity to look at how he may have lived his life.  In Britain, Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age resources potentially included cereal (wheat and barley) and legume crops, as well as livestock, primarily cattle and sheep.  In the earlier Neolithic period, after an initial burst of agrarian activity, livestock herding became dominant over cereal cultivation, possibly because of teething problems with the establishment of cereal farming in new territories by inexperienced farmers.  Cattle herding increased, and soon sheep also contributed to the subsistence mix, with dairy products rising in importance.  Before the end of the Early Bronze Age, cereal farming resumed on floodplains and other suitable land.  Although different areas had access to different types of land and both wild and domesticated resources, there is no reason to doubt that the inhabitants of northeast Wales could obtain access to subsistence assets when they required them, choosing the best combination of crops and livestock for the conditions in which they lived.  Hunting wild game probably supplemented the diet.

How much of this applies to the Brymbo area?  We know that the grave was on a hillside above the River Alyn.  The hillside is used used for sheep farming.  Given that Brymbo Man was buried in this location, it can be assumed that he lived and worked here for at least a portion of the year, but whether this was a settled or mobile life is unknown.

Topographic map of Brymbo. The meandering blue shows the Alyn valley. Click to show the bigger image.  Source: topographic-map.com

The point was made above that Brymbo Man was a sturdy individual with no obvious health defects, that 35 was a respectable age for the period, and that these observations suggest that he was healthy and probably had a nutritious diet.  We can state with some confidence is that Brymbo Man was once part of a family, and a larger community, made up of farmers and/or herders, as well as stone and pottery workers who exploited the fertile lowlands and highland pastures of northeast Wales, possibly on a transhumant or otherwise seasonal basis. These were the people who buried him.  There would have been many other men, women and children in the area when he was alive and making a living, each with a specific role within the community.  

It is possible that some members of the community split away from the rest on a seasonal basis, following a pattern of taking up livestock onto the hills to take advantage of summer pasture, before returning in the autumn to help with the harvest.  If the burial on the edge of Ruabon Mountain is an indication of an affiliation with this particular part of the landscape, Brymbo Man was probably involved in sheep or cattle herding, and was in easy reach of the Alyn valley for other agrarian activities.  Climatic indicators suggest that the weather was warm and relatively dry, and although lowland areas could be freed up for agriculture by the clearance of often dense woodland before they could be cultivated, upland areas were often used for both cultivation and herding.

Coming back once again to the Beaker, it is as far as one can tell from other excavated sites in the region, something of an unusual object in northeast Wales and the borders.  This one in particular seems to have affinities with other areas and it seems unlikely that it was made locally.  The presence of the copper mine on the Great Orme indicates that there was significant trading activity from there to other parts of Britain, and that the development of complex overland and seagoing trade routes were established had been established by the Early Bronze Age.  It is in not, therefore, far-fetched to suggest that this grave, overlooking the Alyn valley and only a few kilometres from the Dee valley, might have had connections further afield, and that the Beaker may not have been made by native potters, but was an import, either in trade, or in company with Brymbo Man.  This is highly speculative and more data is required.  Perhaps the beaker itself, and analysis of the clay from which it was made, could add additional data. Isotopic analysis of the skeleton might also well help to clarify some of these distance-related questions.  As noted above, however, this would involve inflicting damage on the Brymbo remains.

Final Comments on Part 2

Brymbo Man remains elusive.  One grave on its own, even containing a skeleton and grave goods, provides insufficient data for judging what the grave meant to the people that buried a man there, and covered his burial chamber with a giant capstone and, probably, a barrow or cairn.  Isotope data could probably get us a little further, but only as far as assessing whether this man was likely to have travelled.  All we can say for sure is that he had no obvious signs of ill health, that his physique, height and age suggest that he was well nourished, that he had received an injury apparently inflicted by another human, and that the hilly surroundings of his burial place might imply that he was involved in livestock herding or that this was a route he travelled in the course of another economic activity.

The real value of Brymbo Man, the objects in his grave and his burial mound is as a data source in comparative research to enable the development of a greater understanding of all these burials, the features they shared, and how they were differentiated from one another.  Once sufficient data has been accumulated, probably not until decades from now, it may be possible to return to Brymbo Man, better informed, with more knowledge to hand, to ask some of the above questions again.

Next

Bryn yr Ellyllon, the Early Bronze Age burial cairn that produced the Mold Cape, are discussed in a similar vein in Part 3.

Part 1: Who was Brymbo Man, what was the Mold Cape and why do they matter?

From left to right.  The Mold Cape and strings of amber beads superimposed on a digital sketch, which could be man or woman (Source: British Museum Partnership Programme); Photograph of the Wrexham County Borough Museum hologram of the reconstructed head of Brymbo Man (my photo); The recreated grave and capstone with original skeleton and grave goods of Brymbo Man in the Wrexham County Borough Museum (my photo).

 

Bryn y Ffynon (Brymbo) and Bryn yr Ellyllon (Mold) indicated by yellow markers, shown in relation to Chester and Wrexham. courtesy of Google Earth. Click to enlarge.

This is part 1 of a four-part overview of two Early Bronze Age graves and how they contribute to an understanding of  the archaeology of the period in northeast Wales and the borders. All four parts have been written, and will be released over the next couple of weeks.

The series has been divided up as follows:

Part 1 (this post) – Introduction to the Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age in northeast Wales:

  • Introduction
  • Some Background to the Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age
  • A rich heritage in northeast Wales
  • Discovering the graves
  • Sources (bibliography) for all four parts 

Part 2 – What do we know about Bryn y Ffynnon, the grave of ‘Brymbo Man’?

Part 3 – What do we know about Bryn yr Ellyllon, where the Mold cape was found? 

Part 4 – Bringing the threads together, plus visiting details

 

Part 1: Introduction

The series is based on two burial finds in northeast Wales, Bryn yr Ellyllon, near Mold and Bryn y Ffynnon at Brymbo, Wrexham.  These two sites have been chosen 1) because excavated sites are comparatively unusual in northeast Wales, 2) the contents of both sites can be visited in museums, and 3) because of the differences between them, and the opportunity for assessing different types of knowledge about the Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age in northeast Wales.  In spite of the differences between them, both represent variants of the broader burial tradition, and therefore have the potential to add their own unique voices to the discussion of how this period manifests itself in the region.

The Mold Cape (British Museum 188,0514.1) from Bryn yr Ellyllon near Mold. Source: British Museum

Bryn yr Ellyllon (which translates as Hill of Goblins or Fairies) was discovered by labourers in 1833 a few miles to the east of Mold.  It was a round cairn (a mound of stones) that contained a badly decayed skeleton together accompanied by a number of very fine artefacts, one of which is the magnificent gold Mold Cape made of paper-thin gold and embossed with a decorative theme that emulates multiple strings of beads.  The other objects included around 300 amber beads (the exact number found remains unknown, and only one survives), other pieces of gold that appear to have belonged to a second cape, and some poorly preserved items of bronze.  These are now in the British Museum in London and are discussed further below and in part 3.  Even though the objects were pulled from the site as pieces of treasure, the location of the site is known, and the objects form a relatively coherent assemblage.  These are valuable details when understanding how objects were chosen to accompany the dead, and where burial sites were located in the landscape.

The partial remains of Brymbo Man and his two grave goods from the Bryn y Ffynnon cist. Source: Peoples Collection Wales

In 1958 a stone-line cist called Bryn y Ffynnon, was found 10 miles to the northwest of Wrexham at Brymbo, containing the well-preserved remains of a partial skeleton, a flint tool and a ceramic vessel known as a Beaker.  The name means Hill of the Well or Spring (with many thanks to Reginald Iain de Crawford-Griffin for the translation).  It seems to have been named for a small farm of the same name on Brymbo Hill.  The site was excavated in 1958, and the results published in an excavation report in 1959.  The man to whom the skeleton belonged, now nick-named Brymbo Man, was around 35 years old when he died some 3600 years ago.   The burial, including the skeletal remains, is now on display in the Wrexham County Borough Museum, together with a reconstruction of the skeleton’s face.  The site is discussed further below, and in detail in part 2.

Each burial offers contrasting insights into the Late Neolithic / Early Bronze Age, and they are worth looking at both individually and together to highlight how different sites may produced different types of knowledge.  Every individual site has something to say for itself, and as more sites are investigated, each feeds in turn into our knowledge about the period in which they were constructed, and during which they formed an integral part of the human landscape.  It is the  understanding of the period as a whole, rather than individual objects, that is important to archaeologists, who work to recreate past societies from the sites and objects that survive.

Some Background to the Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age

Chronology of ceramics in Britain, Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age. Source: Parker-Pearson et al 2016

The Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age are usually discussed together.  The period lasts from around 2900-1600 BC.   The division from the earlier Neolithic lies in transformations visible in the material record, which may in turn reflect revisions of ideology, social organization and/or economic activity.  These changes coincide with a period of climatic change.

Riverine connections during British prehistory, showing how the river network links from Wessex, the Thames valley and the Humber estuary. Source: Bradley 2019, p.20

The climate, cooler than in the earlier Neolithic, was still favourable for agriculture, and in particular may have supported agricultural development in hilly areas in the summer months.  Astrid Caseldine’s analysis of environmental indicators suggests that this was a period of deforestation in many parts of upland north Wales, probably indicative of agricultural expansion into these upland areas.  This is supported both by the notable increase in cereal pollen in these environments, and by the flowering of Late Neolithic – Early Bronze Age monuments across the upland landscape.  This expansion could not have lasted indefinitely; the soils were simply not of sufficiently robust quality to sustain long-term agricultural expansion.  Valleys were also popular locations for these sites, indicating that communities were adept at making the best of various different environments.  The valley of the river Alyn, along which several sites are located including Bryn yr Ellyllon and the Llong, is one example.

Foremost amongst the transformations in material culture, suggesting social as well as economic changes, is a different form of burial  practise, suggesting changes in the way that communities defined themselves and related to both others and the landscape.  Although there were a number of tomb styles prevalent in the earlier Neolithic, most burial sites contained the remains of multiple individuals, but at the end of the Neolithic and the beginning of the Bronze age, smaller round barrows and cairns were favoured, usually containing a single burial in a small subterranean chamber at its centre, sometimes with a new form of pottery known as a Beaker.  Sometimes additional burials added into the mound itself at a later date.  At the same time, settlements became less substantial, more ephemeral, and much less easy to find archaeologically, the sites often consisting of little more than household debris with few, if any, signs of the circular structures that once contained them.

A suggested reconstruction of the 100s of beads found in the cairn at Llong, near Mold. Source: Curious Clwyd

Pottery styles also changed at this time, with the introduction of the new Beaker form from Europe and the replacement of earlier Neolithic styles with new home-grown Grooved Ware, Food Vessels and Collared Urns.  As the name Bronze Age suggests, this was also the period during which metal-working began, first copper and gold, and later bronze itself, an alloy of copper and tin.  North Wales was well placed as a base for the exploitation of mineral sources, an industry that gained momentum during the Early Bronze Age before becoming an important centre for copper and other resources in the Middle Bronze Age.  The earliest copper tools in Wales were flat axes that had been cast in an open mould, a basic technology that improved over time.  Decorative items, such as items of jewellery also appear much more frequently.  The amber beads in Bryn yr Ellyllon and the jet and shale beads in the necklace found in a cairn at Llong, near Mold, both in the valley of the river Alyn, are both examples from northeast Wales.

Although these are the top-level identifiers of the new Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age material culture, there is considerable regional variation, and even within a region no two graves are identical.  Although inhumations (burials) are typical of barrow graves, cremation steadily gained momentum, eventually replacing inhumation as the preferred method for disposing of the dead.

A rich Early Bronze Age heritage in northeast Wales

The Maesmor Estate macehead from near Corwen (near Llangollen). Found in 1840. Source: National Museum of Wales

Northeast Wales was a recipient of these new ideas, perhaps deriving them from earlier versions in south Wales, or perhaps more plausibly from similar manifestations in northern England with which the northern Welsh material appears to have certain affinities.  The Bryn y Ffynnon Beaker, for example, bears a close resemblance to examples in northeast England, and stone maceheads from northeast Wales are comparable with those from the north of England, including a remarkable example from the Maesmor Estate at Llangwm near Corwen in the Ceirw river valley, not far from the Dee (shown left).  Good quality flint pieces for more mundane stone tools are unavailable in north Wales, and this appears to have been imported from elsewhere.  Yorkshire jet appears in northeast Wales during the Late Neolithic, as does amber. The nearest source of amber was the Baltic, but it also washed up on beaches along the Yorkshire coast.  Amber was found in Bryn yr Ellyllon with the golden cape;  jet (and black stone resembling jet) appears in the necklace, found scattered in a the stones of cairn at Llong, 1.5 miles (2.4km) southeast of Mold, overlying the burial of a crouched female skeleton. Although sea routes had dominated during the earlier Neolithic, the indications are that land and river routes now assumed a new importance, transforming networks of communication.

Distribution of round barrows and cairns in Wales. Source: Burrow 2011, p.106

However they arrived, the Early Neolithic and Early Bronze Age burial practices soon colonized northeast Wales, mainly round barrows (mounds of earth or turf) and cairns (mounds of stone) the majority of which, but by no means all, are thought to have been burial sites.  Here there were none of the earlier Neolithic monumental burials such as the so-called portal dolmens found in northwest Wales and on Anglesey.  There are 100s of mounds all over Wales, north and south, and there are particular concentrations in the northeast of Wales, and along the Welsh borders.  See the map right.  There are also a few other types of ceremonial monuments from the period, including stone circles and so-called henges.  Sadly, as explained above, there is a severe dearth of settlement sites.  Nearly all of the archaeological data available about the period in northeast Wales is derived from these round mounds, built of earth, turf, or stones.  Most have not been excavated, and many have become very overgrown over the millennia, making it difficult to differentiate between them.  Where they have been investigated, a number of different types have been identified, based on features like kerb stones, berms and ditches.  Some round barrows and cairns are completely empty of burials, but may perform a similar function in terms of looking like a burial site and establishing a presence in the landscape.

Source: Prehistoric Funerary and Ritual Monuments in Flintshire and Wrexham, by Frances Lynch 2003

Of the round barrows found in northeast Wales, some have been recorded but are no longer visible.  Others are visible, either as monuments or as crop marks in aerial photographs, but have not been examined.  Some were excavated before sound archaeological techniques were developed, and just a few have been subject to modern archaeological investigation.  In all, it’s a very mixed bag of data, but it all points to a very busy Welsh heritage during the Early Bronze Age period.

When Frances Lynch discussed the survey of Bronze Age monuments in Flintshire and Wrexham in 2003, she included a table that listed 284 monuments, capturing particular concentrations of Early Bronze Age burial activity on Ruabon Mountain and in the Alyn Valley. What is interesting about her list is the sheer number of round barrows when compared to any other type of contemporary monument.  A single stone circle and a possible henge (ceremonial monuments) are recorded.  Lynch makes the point that sites located side by side may or may not be directly related to one another, but even so, a landscape stuffed full or more or less contemporary monuments is a notable phenomenon.

1991 map showing the distribution of scheduled Bronze Age barrows and major finds spots in Clwyd.  Scheduled monuments are those that are under state protection, but there are many more that are not scheduled, so this shows only those sites deemed to be most important. Source: Manley et al 1991, p.66

To understand the Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age, other types of site would normally be taken into consideration, a mix of domestic, funerary and ritual sites.  These include other ceremonial sites, industrial sites like kilns, quarries and mines, and settlements.   A combination of sites helps to create a sense of what the lived area was like.  The profusion of round mounds argues that northeast Wales was clearly well populated, but settlement and industrial sites remain very rare, although the copper mine at the Great Orme stands out as a notable and welcome exception.  In spite of these gaps, prehistorian Frances Lynch, who specializes in Welsh archaeology, suggests that these prolific barrow builders were far from insular, and that they were part of larger networks of communication

“Although the social character of Wales was perhaps more conservative than that of many parts of Britain, the country was not isolated.  The presence of exotic beads made of amber, faience and jet demonstrates that even quite remote communities could obtain luxuries from a distance and that fashions in clothes, as far as we can reconstruct them, changed in step with those elsewhere.” (Lynch 2000 p.138)

I will be talking more about grave distribution and how these two graves fit into the general picture in part 4.

Discovering the graves

The two sites under discussion were found 125 years apart.  That 125 years accounts for how differently each site was treated by its finders. Both sites were discovered by workmen.  Bryn yr Ellyllon, which contained the Mold Cape, was found in 1833 and Bryn y Ffynnon (Brymbo) was found in 1958.  The grave at Bryn yr Ellyllon on the eastern outskirts of Mold, was discovered on the banks of the River Alyn, by accident by workmen in 1833, using stones from the cairn (stone mound) that covered the cist and its contents to fill in a disused gravel pit at the side of a road.  Similarly, Bryn y Ffynnon, was found by workmen building a new housing estate.  They were laying pipes, for which they were digging a new trench  in Cheshire View in the village of Brymbo.

Bryn yr Ellyllon (containing the Mold Cape and accompanying grave goods)

Imaginative reconstruction of the discovery of the Mold Cape at Bryn yr Ellyllon by Tony Daly.  It is far more likely that the skeleton was lying on its side, and we know that the cape was in pieces.  Still, it is a useful way of visualizing how the site was uncovered.  Source: British Museum Partnership Programme

An early 19th century discovery is almost inevitably bad news for a site in terms of excavation techniques, the proper recording of archaeological finds and the finding and preservation of delicate organic remains, such as, for example, very small pieces of human skeletal material, animal bones, plant remains, foodstuffs and any fabrics or bits of basketry.  Even so, if the Bryn yr Ellyllon grave had been subjected to any form of contemporary archaeological investigation it would have fared better than it did.

When the labourers at the Bryn yr Ellyllon grave found the treasures that accompanied a decayed skeleton, they simply disposed of the bones and divided the spoils between themselves and the landowner John Longford.  No records were made of the skeleton, and any contents that could be expected within the cairn itself, such as any secondary burials or artefacts within its structure, were lost. It is possible that other more pedestrian objects like stone tools may have been in the grave but, like the skeleton, were disposed of at the time.  Had it not been for the Reverend Charles Butler Clough, the vicar of Mold, the find might never have come to academic light, and its discovery by a team of labourers would have been the kiss of death.  Fortunately, the Reverend Clough heard of the find and took great interest in it, writing a letter to John Gage, in which he described the find, referring to the cape as a corselet:

I regret to say, that the Corselet suffered considerable mutilation. Mr. Langford, upon its discovery, having no idea of its value, threw it into a hedge, and told the workmen to bring it with them when they returned home to dinner. In the mean time several persons broke small pieces off it, and after I saw it, one piece of gold, apparently a shoulder strap, which was entire (or piece passing over the shoulder from the front to the back of the arm) was taken away ; two small pieces, of what I believe to have been (from its similarity to what I had seen) the other shoulder strap, with several small pieces of copper upon which the gold was fixed, are still in Mr. Langford’s possession; several rings and breast pins have been made out of the pieces carried away.

Illustration of the Mold Cape  and fragments of a different cape from the same grave, all found in 1833. Source: Gage 1835

Hair-raising stuff.  It was common for the clergy to write up this sort of discovery, as they were frequently the most scholarly and informed people around, and often had a profound interest in history.  It is because of the Reverend Clough that anything at all is known about the grave beyond the surviving grave goods. His report was published in the journal Archaeologia in 1836, three years after the discovery, and the British Museum picked up on it and went to Mold to see if they could rescue the finds.  It took over a century for enough of the pieces of the cape to be assembled for a reconstruction to be made (in the 1960s).  Some fragments are still missing presumably those that Clough said had been recycled into rings and pins.

A geophysical survey was carried out in 2013, hoping to find either the site itself or anything associated with it, but its findings were limited to the discovery of the possible original site of the cairn, estimated at 25m in diameter.

The grave contents are now in the British Museum in London and the cape itself was featured in Neil MacGregor’s radio series (and the book that followed) “A History of the World in 100 Objects,” based on objects in the British Museum.  In 2013 it was loaned to Wrexham County Borough Museum where it was put on display for five weeks, together with Llong shale and jet necklace, discovered in another burial nearby.  It is is decorated with impressed designs, and absolutely remarkable for the skill required to work something so thin.

Bryn y Ffynnon (the grave of “Brymbo Man”)

The 1950s Brymbo housing estate, during the construction of which the Bryn y Ffynnon grave was found.  Its rural surroundings are clearly visible. Source: Archwilio

Bryn y Ffynnon was found in 1958, and was very soon the subject of professional excavation.  The workmen laying pipes for a new housing estate on the outskirts of Brymbo had stumbled across the corner of a vast slab of stone when they dug down to create a trench, about 30 cm (1ft) below the modern surface.  When they investigated further, they found that it was the roughly hewn capstone (lid) of a cist (stone-lined rectangular grave)., which contained a burial and two artefacts:  a pot and a flint tool.  They removed the long bones and the beaker, for reasons unknown, but left the rest undisturbed.

Even in 1958, archaeology had not come of age in Britain.  Radiocarbon dating had been invented but was still giving inaccurate dates, and was not calibrated (corrected) until 1967, after which many further modifications were made.  Field techniques had not yet been fully refined, although they were improving all the time.  Nor was there the same awareness that there is today of the value of leaving discoveries like this in situ, like a crime scene, so that they objects can be understood in relation to one another as they were deposited, in keeping with the intentions of those who interred the deceased and the grave goods.

The importance of relationships between objects, such as placement of finds near the head, hands or feet, help archaeologists to understand the lost language of ritual practises, just as the positioning of the skeleton itself, including its orientation (e.g. north-south) and the direction in which it was facing (e.g. east or west)  help to understand how widespread these traditions and ideas actually were.

It is particularly nice, therefore, that in spite of the fact that the burial was found in the middle of a construction site, the details were passed over to the Grosvenor Museum in Chester, who in turn passed the news over to the National Museum of Wales to enable them to send a team and excavate the site as a rescue dig.  The aim of rescue archaeology is to recover as much data and material as possible at a site in the allotted time before the halted construction or other activity must resume.  Many rescue digs were carried out in the countryside during the 1950s due to the expansion of housing on formerly rural land.  Without a cairn or barrow to signal its presence, the cist was only found whilst work was already underway, and work had to stop to allow the site to be excavated.

Plan and elevation by H.N. Savory published in 1959, showing the grave, together with its contents, as it was found in 1958.  Source: Transactions of Denbighshire Historical Society

When they arrived on site, the National Museum of Wales archaeologist H.N. Savory and his team were able to replace the bones in their original position and went on to record the entire grave in situ before removing the grave, slabs and all, to enable the pipe-laying to proceed.

The following year Savory published a short but comprehensive excavation report with illustrations in 1959 in the Transactions of Denbighshire Historical Society, not yet digitized but available today in the public library in Wrexham.  The plan and elevation of the grave is taken from that publication.

The grave and its contents were initially sent to Cardiff, where they were put on display in the National Museum of Wales, but are now in the Wrexham County Borough Museum.  The grave is excellently displayed.  The skeleton has been nick-named Brymbo Man.  A reconstruction of the head, based on the remains of the skull, gives Brymbo Man a possible face, also on display in the museum.

In Part 2, both Savory’s excavation, together with the later post-excavation work that took place, will be discussed.

Final Comments on Part 1

Northeast Wales is home to 100s of round barrows.  There are even two in Wrexham itself, miracle survivors of urban development.  Not enough sites have been excavated to be able to talk in terms of a typical site, but both both sites stand out for the quality of their artefacts.  Although the Beaker in Bryn yr Ffynon is not a rare piece, it is certainly unusual in this area, at least in the context of our current knowledge, and the Mold cape is acknowledged as a national treasure.

Photograph on display in the Wrexham County Borough Museum of Bryn y Ffynnon being excavated during the construction of a new housing estate.

Neither site was found under ideal circumstances, but Bryn y Ffynnon fared much better than Bryn yr Ellyllon, due almost entirely to the 125 years between the two discovery dates, and the much greater awareness of the value of archaeological sites, and their protection by law.  In a field where funding is always an uphill battle, it is often due to accidental findings during construction work that result in excavations.  Ironically, given that it signals the destruction of a site, rescue archaeology is enormously helpful in filling out the picture of archaeological periods, but it is relatively rare that such rescue work is required in rural areas.  It was only because of the expansion of Brymbo into the surrounding countryside that Bryn y Ffynnon was discovered and rescued.  What this means, in practical terms, is that the recovery of the archaeology of northeast Wales will inevitably remain piecemeal, as funding for excavation (and post-excavation analysis) is secured on a case by case basis, or as other rescue opportunities arise.

Each burial and its accompanying objects will be discussed in much greater depth in the next two posts, Bryn yr Ffynon (Brymbo) posted in part 2 and Bryn yr Ellyllon (Mold), posted in part 3.  In part 4 all the strands are brought together to talk about how the two sites contribute to what is known of the archaeology of northeast Wales and the borders.

 

Sources:

Books, booklets and papers:

Armit, I., and Reich, D. 2021. The return of the Beaker folk? Rethinking migration and population change in British prehistory. Antiquity, 95 (384), 1464-1477
https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/antiquity/article/return-of-the-beaker-folk-rethinking-migration-and-population-change-in-british-prehistory/ABF13307796A0476353FA8D2DA38A21A

Bradley, R. 2019 (2nd edition).  The Prehistory of Britain and Ireland. Cambridge University Press

British Museum Partnership Programme, (no date). The Mold Cape. A Prehistoric Masterpiece from North-East Wales. (Dual language, Welsh and English). National Museum of Wales and Wrexham County Borough Museum.

Brück, J. 2004. Material Metaphors. The Relational Construction of Identity in Early Bronze Age Burials in Ireland and Britain.  Journal of Social Archaeology, vol.4(3), p.307-333

Brück, J. 2008. The Architecture of Routine Life.  In Pollard, J. (ed.) Prehistoric Britain. Blackwell, p.248-267

Brück, J., & Booth, T. 2022. The Power of Relics: The Curation of Human Bone in British Bronze Age Burials. European Journal of Archaeology, p.1-23
https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/european-journal-of-archaeology/article/power-of-relics-the-curation-of-human-bone-in-british-bronze-age-burials/54F72F3A23123CE92393929753F6765D

Burrow, S. 2011.  Shadowland. Wales 3000-1500BC.  Oxbow Books / National Museum of Wales

Caseldine, A. 1990.  Environmental Archaeology in Wales. Department of Archaeology, St David’s University College, Lampeter
https://archive.org/details/environmentalarc0000case/page/n1/mode/2up

Clark, J. 1932. The Date of the Plano-Convex Flint-Knife in England and Wales. The Antiquaries Journal, 12(2), p.158-162.

Clarke, D.V., Cowie, T.G. and Foxon, A. 1985.  Symbols of Power at the Age of Stonehenge. National Museum of Antiquities, Scotland.

Clwyd-Powys Archaeological Trust.  Mold Gold! Newsletter Autumn 2007
https://cpat.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/CPAT-Autumn-2007-1.pdf

Duhig, Corinne. n.d. The Skeleton from Bryn-Y-Ffynon, Brymbo (“Brymbo Man”), Unpublished, Wolfson College, Cambridge. (With many thanks to Rhiannon Pettitt for sending it to me)

Dutton, A., Fasham, P., Jenkins, D., Caseldine, A., & Hamilton-Dyer, S.,1994. Prehistoric Copper Mining on the Great Orme, Llandudno, Gwynedd. Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society, 60(1), p.245-286

Frieman, C. 2012. Going to pieces at the funeral: Completeness and complexity in early Bronze Age jet ‘necklace’ assemblages.  Journal of Social Archaeology, 0(0), p.1-22
https://www.researchgate.net/publication/258157952_Going_to_pieces_at_the_funeral_Completeness_and_complexity_in_early_Bronze_Age_jet_%27necklace%27_assemblages

Fowler, Chris, 2013.  The Emergent Past. A Relational Realist Archaeology of Early Bronze Age Mortuary Practices. Oxford University Press

Gage, J. 1835.  XXII. A Letter from JOHN GAGE, Esq. F.R.S., Director, to Sir HENRY ELLIS, K.H., F.R.S., Secretary, accompanying a Gold British Corselet exhibited to the Society, and since purchased by the Trustees of the British Museum.  Read 17th December, 1835
[includes extracts from Reverend Clough’s and Mr Langford’s letters]

Harris, C. and Kaiser, A. 2020. Burying the Hatchet.  Revue d’Économie Politique, November-December 2020/6 (vol.130), p.1025-1044
https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3701375

Harris, S. 2019. Chapter 7 – The Challenge of Textiles in Early Bronze Age Burials: Fragments of Magnificence. In: The Textile Revolution in Bronze Age Europe.  Production, Specialisation, Consumption, ed. Sabatini S. and Bergerbrant, S. Cambridge University Press, p.154-196. 

Hoole, M, Sheridan, A, Boyle, A, Booth, T, Brace, S, Diekmann, Y, Olalde, I, Thomas, M, Barnes, I, Evans, J, Chenery, C, Sloane, H, Morrison, H, Fraser, S, Timpany, S and Hamilton, D 2018 ‘“Ava”: a Beaker-associated woman from a cist at Achavanich, Highland, and the story of her (re-)discovery and subsequent study’, Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland 147:
73-118.
http://journals.socantscot.org/index.php/psas/article/view/10106

Hurcombe, L.M. 2014. Perishable Material Culture in Prehistory. Investigating the Missing Majority. Routledge

Johnson, N. 2017.  Early Bronze Age Barrows of the Anglo-Welsh Border. BAR British Series 632

Jones, A. 2008. How The Dead Live:  Mortuary Practices, Memory and the Ancestors in Neolithic and Early Bronze Age Britain and Ireland.  In Pollard, J. (ed.) Prehistoric Britain. Blackwell, p.177-201

Jones, N.W. 2000. Prehistoric Funerary & Ritual Sites:  Flintshire and Wrexham. Project Report.  Clwyd-Powys Archaeological Trust, March 2000.
http://www.walesher1974.org/herumd.php?group=CPAT&level=3&docid=301338460

Lanting, J.N. and van der Waals, J.D. 1972. British Beakers as seen from the Continent, Helinium 12, p.20-46

Lewis A 1990, Underground exploration of the Great Orme copper mines in (eds.) Crew, P. and Crew, S., Early mining in the British Isles, Plas Tan y Bwlch, p.5-10

Lloyd, J.Y.W. 1885. The History of the Princes, the Lords Marcher and the ancient nobility of Powys Fadoc and the Ancient Lords of Arwystli, Cedewen and Merionydd.  Whiting and Co, London.
https://archive.org/details/historyofprinces05lloy

Lynch, F. 1983. Report on the Excavation  of a Bronze Age Barrow at Llong, near Mold.  Journal  of Flintshire Historical Society, 31, p.13-28

Lynch, F. 1991. The Bronze Age.  In Manley, J., Grenter, S and Gale, G. (eds.) The Archaeology of Clwyd. Archaeology Service Clwyd, p.55-81

Lynch, F. 2000.  The Later Neolithic and Earlier Bronze Age.  In. Lynch, F., Aldhouse-Green, S., and Davies, J.L. (eds.) Prehistoric Wales. Sutton Publishing

Lynch, F. 2003. Prehistoric Funerary and Ritual Monuments in Flintshire and Wrexham, Flintshire Historical Society Journal, Vol 36 (2003), p.19-31

MacGregor, N. 2020.  A History of the World in 100 Objects.  Penguin

Morgan, D.E.M. 1990. Bronze Age Metalwork from Flintshire. North West Archaeological Trust, Report No.4

Morgan, V. and Morgan, P. 2004.  Prehistoric Cheshire.  Landmark Collections Library

Needham, S. 2012, Putting capes into context: Mold at the heart of a domain. In Britnell, W. J. & Silvester, R. J. (eds.) Reflections on the past: essays in honour of Frances Lynch. Welshpool, Cambrian Archaeological Association, pp. 210-236

O’Brien, W. 1996.  Bronze Age Copper Mining in Britain and Ireland. Shire Archaeology.

Olalde, O. 2017. The Beaker Phenomenon and the Genomic Transformation of Northwest Europe.  bioRxiv May 2017
https://www.biorxiv.org/content/10.1101/135962v1.full.pdf

Parker-Pearson, M., Chamberlain, A., Jay, M., Richards, M., and Sheridan, A., Curtis, N., Evans, J., Gibson, A., Hutchison, M., Mahoney, P., Marshall, P. Montgomery, J. Needham, S. O’Mahoney,  S. Sandra, Pellegrini, M. and and Wilkin, N. 2016.  Bell Beaker people in Britain: migration, mobility and diet. Antiquity., 90 (351), p. 620-637
https://www.researchgate.net/publication/303316762_Beaker_people_in_Britain_Migration_mobility_and_diet

Powell, T.G.E. 1953. The Gold Ornament from Mold, Flintshire North Wales.  Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society 19, p.161-79

Ray, K. and Thomas, J. 2018.  Neolithic Britain. The Transformation of Social Worlds.  Oxford University Press

Savory, H. N. 1959. A Beaker Cist at Brymbo. Transactions of Denbighshire Historical Society, Iss. 8, Vol.8, p.11-17

Sheridan, A. 2008. Towards a fuller, more nuanced narrative of Chalcolithic and Early Bronze Age Britain 2500-1500 BC.  Bronze Age Review. vol.1, British Museum
https://britishmuseum.iro.bl.uk/concern/articles/28723733-e7b7-4726-aa04-1d89ad647048

Taylor, J. 1985. Gold and Silver. In (eds.) Clarke, D.V., Cowie, T.G. and Foxon, A.  Symbols of Power at the Age of Stonehenge. National Museum of Antiquities, Scotland
https://archive.org/details/symbolsofpowerat0000clar/page/n359/mode/2up

Taylor, J.A. 1980. Environmental changes in Wales during the Holocene period in Taylor, J.A. (ed.) Culture and Environment in Prehistoric Wales.  British Archaeological Reports British Series 76

Thomas, J. 1991.  Reading the Body.  Beaker Funerary Practice in Britain. In (eds.) Garwood, Jennings, D., Skeates, R and Toms, J.  Sacred and Profane: Proceedings of a Conference on Archaeology, Ritual and Religion, Oxford, 1989.  Oxbow Books

Thomas, J. 2007, Three Bronze Age Round Barrows at Cossington: A History of Use and Re-Use. Transactions of Leicestershire Archaeological and Historical Society 81 (2007), p.35-63
https://www.le.ac.uk/lahs/downloads/2007/2007%20(81)%2035-63%20Thomas.pdf

Timberlake, S. and Marshall, P. 2014.  The beginnings of metal production in Britain: a new light on the exploitation of ores and the dates of Bronze Age mines.  Historical Metallurgy 47(1), p.75-92
https://hmsjournal.org/index.php/home/article/download/112/109/109

Young, T. 2013.  GeoArch Report 2013/20, Geophysical survey of the supposed findspot of the ‘Gold Cape’, Bryn-yr-ellyllon, Mold, Flintshire (pt 2), 29th September 2013
https://museum.wales/media/30592/2013-20-Geophysical-survey-at-Mold-pt2.pdf

Waddinton, C. 2004. The Joy of Flint. Museum of Antiquities, University of Newcastle upon Tyne
https://www.archaeologicalresearchservices.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/JoyofFlint_1.pdf

Woodward, A. 2000.  British Barrows: A Matter of Life and Death.  Tempus.

Woodward, A. 2002. Beads and Beakers: heirlooms and relics in the British Early Bronze Age. Antiquity 76, p.1040-47

Websites:

Advanced Amber Kretaceous Zoologia (AAKZ)
British Amber
http://www.aakz.com/British-and-Irish-amber.html

ARCHAEO-death by Howard Williams
Questions for Brymbo Man
https://howardwilliamsblog.wordpress.com/2015/08/05/questions-for-brymbo-man/

Archwilio
CPAT Regional Historic Environment Record Mold: Bryn-yr-ellyllon, Geophysical survey, 2013
https://archwilio.org.uk/her/chi3/report/page.php?watprn=CPAT166880&dbname=cpat&tbname=event&sessid=CHI39bx3hf5&queryid=Q883547001681323677

BBC News
Great Orme: Rare Bronze Age axe mould declared treasure, June 1st 2022
https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-61663012

British Museum
Cape
https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/H_1836-0902-1

Clwyd-Powys Archaeological Trust
Mold Gold!
CPAT Newsletter, Autumn 2007, p.6-8
https://cpat.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/CPAT-Autumn-2007-1.pdf

Current Archaeology
December 1st 2016
The Cist on Whitehorse Hill
https://archaeology.co.uk/articles/features/cist-whitehorse-hill.htm
October 1st 2018
Spinning the tale of prehistoric textiles
https://archaeology.co.uk/articles/news/spinning-the-tale-of-prehistoric-textiles.htm

Dartmoor National Park
Whitehorse Hill
https://www.dartmoor.gov.uk/wildlife-and-heritage/heritage/bronze-age/whitehorse-hill

The Fire on the Hill
Index of Brymbo Placenames
https://thefireonthehill.wordpress.com/index-of-places/

Getty Museum
The Properties of Amber
https://www.getty.edu/publications/ambers/intro/6/

The Independent
Discovery of vast treasure trove of fine textiles shows importance of fashion to Bronze Age Britons by David Keys, 14th July 2016
https://www.independent.co.uk/news/science/archaeology/vast-treasure-trove-of-fine-textiles-shows-importance-of-fashion-to-bronze-age-britons-a7135786.html 

Mellor Archaeological Trust
Necklace of Amber Beads
https://www.mellorarchaeology-2000-2010.org.uk/archaeology/finds/amberbeads.htm

PBS Time Team America
Isotope Analysis
http://timeteam.lunchbox.pbs.org/time-team/experience-archaeology/isotope-analysis/

Wrexham County Borough Museums and Archives
Brymbo Man Revealed
https://www.wrexhamheritage.wales/brymbo-man/

A 6th-7th Century Egyptian Pilgrim Flask found at Meols, Wirral

Introduction to the Meols pilgrim flask

The Meols Pilgrim Flask, now in the Grosvenor Museum, Chester (GM 43. M.56). Source of photograph: Pilgrims and Posies blog

Flipping through Peter Carrington’s book Chester when it arrived on my doorstep a year or so ago, I was surprised to see a black and white photograph of something both very familiar and exceedingly unexpected: an Egyptian pilgrim flask originally from the shrine of the Coptic Christian St Menas in Egypt.  Only 98mm tall, it was manufactured during the 6th-7th century in northern Egypt. It was almost certainly purchased at the desert shrine of St Mena, 45km to the southwest of Alexandria.

It was found on the Wirral at Meols (pronounced mells) by a local man digging for lugworms in 1955, in a peat layer 61cm (2ft) below the sand 274m (300 yards) off Dove Point.  For those unfamiliar with the local geography, there’s a map at the end of the post.  The flask was donated to the Grosvenor Museum in Chester.  Although the location site consists of nothing but sand dunes today, it was formerly inhabited.  Griffiths and his colleagues, in their 2007 monograph on Meols, describe the 19th century investigations of this strip of land:

The eroding sand-dunes not only produced an enormous body of small finds, but also
traces of buildings (the records of which are now unfortunately lost) and stumps of trees from the old ground surface. The numerous artefacts include, as well as many mundane objects, exotic pieces of high quality.

Today, the same team interpret early Meols (from the Norse meaning sand-hills) as a possible “beach market or port.”

Unsurprisingly, given the time that the pilgrim flask must have spent in the sand, the surface of the flask it is badly abraded and is slightly damaged.  In the photograph on the left it looks as though it has a handle and spout, but in fact the “spout” was a twin handle, by which the vessel could be held in two hands, or threaded through a belt or chord for carrying.  There is also some slight damage to the body of the vessel itself.  It was not the most skilfully manufactured item, and was probably one of the less expensive examples on offer to the purchaser, but given its find-site is remarkably well preserved.

Although difficult to make out, the front of the vessel shows a scene consisting of the Roman-Egyptian St Menas flanked by two camels, about which more in a moment.  There are photos of better preserved versions of the same scene below.  I haven’t found a diagram or photograph of the reverse of the flask, but Griffiths et al describe it as follows: “The righthand part of the circular field has short radiating spokes from the frame. The design is very abraded and unclear, but appears to have a long curving design.” 

Thompson’s figure 3, showing a sketch of the Meols flask at the time of its discovery. Source: Journal of the Chester Archaeological Society, volume 53, 1956

Material of the same period (6th-7th century AD) is found in the general area, confined to a short stretch at the top of the Wirral peninsula, producing over 100 artefacts, from both Roman and post-Roman objects, including Late Saxon and Anglo-Scandinavian material.  Following its discovery in 1955 the find was reported very briefly by F.H. Thompson in the Miscellanea section of the Journal of the Chester Archaeological Society in 1956, accompanied by a sketch, and a description of the context in which it was found:

Although the coastal site of Meols, near Hoylake, is not now so prolific of antiquities as in the days when the Rev. A. Hume could devote a whole book to cataloguing the Romano-British, Saxon and mediaeval finds made there, single specimens are occasionally recovered.

The pilgrim flask is a well known form of vessel, and examples are found all over Egypt, and in Nubia.  Fewer numbers have been found outside Egypt, most of them in the eastern Mediterranean.  They are characterized by a lentoid (lens-shaped) body, narrow neck and twin handles, connecting the neck of the vessel to the main body. They seem to have been fitted with stoppers made from mud and other materials.  The Meols example is 98mm high from lip to base.  The body is 65mm wide, and the neck 35mmwide. The thickness of the pottery never exceeds 18mm.  The neck and arms were added to the body after the manufacture of the vessel’s body, and there was not a great deal of skill demonstrated in its production.  Much finer examples survive.

St Menas pilgrim flask from Preston on the Hill, Cheshire, now in Norton Priory Museum. Source: Griffiths et al 2007

The Meols pilgrim flask is not unique in England.  Norton Priory Museum, near Warrington, has a collection of pilgrim tokens, one of which is a pilgrim flask from the shrine of St Menas, which was found in the Norton Priory area at Preston-on-the-Hill, shown left.  It is missing its handles and neck. When the neck and handles are added on afterwards, the joints are a common point of failure.  The Preston-on-the-Hill flask has a much clearer image of Menas and the camels and is framed with text, which is a blessing of St Menas.  It was found during construction work for a new housing estate, and it is by no means clear how it got there.  Other examples with a comparable date have been found elsewhere in England, including Durham, York, Derby, Baldock in Hertfordshire, Faversham and Canterbury.  Although they are not unique, they are certainly not common.  None, for example, have yet been found in Wales, Ireland or Scotland, although other contemporary Mediterranean objects have.

Who was St Menas?

St Menas was an early Christian saint dating to the Roman period who died in around the year 300AD.  Christianity was introduced into Egypt, traditionally by St Mark, and became well established during the 2nd and early 3rd centuries in the multi-ethnic city of Alexandria on the Mediterranean coast.  During the 541 Council of Chalcedon differences about theological understanding of the nature of Christ caused the Coptic Church of Egypt to split from Rome, and to establish its own clerical administration with its own pope, which it retains today.  St Menas is part o the Coptic Christian tradition.

Pilgrim flask of St Menas at the British Museum, findspot unknown. BM1875,1012.16. Source: British Museum

There are a number of versions of the story of St Menas, and it is likely that the stories of St Menas and St Gordius were conflated into a single story.  Probably the most popular  version is that Menas was martyred in Phrygia, possibly during the reign of Diocletian in the 3rd Century for wishing to give up service in the Roman army to become a hermit in the service of God.  Egypt had a tradition of eremitical worship in the desert, most famously represented by St Paul of Thebes (died c.345) and his follower St Antony (died c.356).  The soldiers who killed Menas tried to burn his body but it remained unharmed.  Pope Athanasius of Alexandria was visited by an angel who told him to take Menas into the desert for burial. Menas was carried on either one or two camels, and when the camel/s suddenly stopped and refused to go further, it was taken as a sign that he should be buried at the spot. A spring erupted into life where he was buried.  The grave was forgotten until the 4th century.  The story is that it was rediscovered by a shepherd when a wounded sheep submerged itself in the spring and was cured.  As the shepherd continued to heal his sheep in the spring, the story began to spread.  According to the legend Constantine the Great sent his daughter, afflicted with leprosy, to be cured.  Her recovery endowed the site with even greater acclaim. Not long afterwards the saint’s grave was discovered, and a church was erected at the site in the Mareotis area, now known as Abu Mena, located around 45km southwest of Alexandria.  The saint’s remains were transferred to the crypt.  It soon became a place of pilgrimage with a settlement around it catering to the expanding number pilgrims from both inside Egypt and beyond as news of the shrine continued to spread.  The site became renowned for its responsiveness to prayers, including the delivery of miraculous cures, becoming the largest pilgrimage destination in the eastern Mediterranean, and was considered to be a patron of desert caravans and merchants.

The Arab-Muslim Conquest of Egypt between 639-646AD caused considerable difficulty for the Coptic religion, and the site seems to have been destroyed at this time.  It was partially restored in the 8th century but underwent various reversals and seems to have gone out of fashion after the 10th century.  Excavations in the early 20th century, and then from the 1960s have uncovered the foundations of the church and the associated monastery.

Pyxis showing St Mena. British Museum 1879,1220.1. Source: British Museum

The saint was often shown on the pilgrim flasks flanked by camels wearing a short long-sleeved tunic, with a wide belt, military cloak, laced boots and raised arms in the “orans” posture, which is a gesture used by the clergy when praying with or on behalf of the congregation.  The British Museum has a flask (shown above) that is much less eroded than the Meols example, and depicts the same scene of the saint flanked by two camels.  It is more obviously similar to the Preston-on-the-Hill example, but lacks the inscription.  Most have a different scene on the reverse side, sometimes another saint, but often a more geometric pattern consisting of motifs, as in the Meols example, . 

Just for comparison, the ivory pyxis (cylindrical box) above left, dating to the 6th century, made in Egypt and found in Italy,  shows a much clearer and far more elaborate version of the scene.  On this side of the box St Menas is shown standing beneath an arch, representing a shrine, with his hands raised, flanked by two recumbent camels, and approached by worshippers. The reverse side shows his martyrdom. 

What were the pilgrim flasks used for?

The ruins of the early religious complex at Abu Mena. It included, amongst other things, two churches, a basilica, courts, hostels, baths, a baptistry and colonnades. Photo source: Wikipedia

Above all the Egyptian pilgrim flask was a personal expression of pilgrimage for the purchaser, serving a) as means of carrying a part of the divine with him or her, b) as the memento of a personally important and perhaps very remarkable journey and c) as a mechanism for advertising that the pilgrimage was undertaken.

Pilgrimage is a personal voyage, for reasons known only to the person making the journey.  Motivations can vary from an illness or disability afflicting the person making the pilgrimage, or afflicting someone else on whose behalf the pilgrimage is made, to a general need to demonstrate penitence, piety or fulfil another inner need. These little mementos contain more than hope – they contain something precious and beloved, a bridge between a person and his or her God, often  via the intercession of a benevolent saint to whom it was perhaps easier to relate.   Finds in Alexandria indicate that St Menas had a popular local following, and those further afield attest to his wider importance.  A long distance pilgrimage was an investment not only of financial cost, time and energy, but also time away from family, home and the means of making an income, so it involved sacrifice, without which perhaps the pilgrimage was probably much less significant.

The similarity between  the flasks, whether poorly- or well made indicates that they were mass-produced.  They were not special to the producer, except as a means of making income, but they were immensely special to the pilgrim.  Because the flasks were very small, between c.9 and 20cm tall, they were highly portable, and could be carried home even over very long distances without difficulty.  Pilgrimage sites today still sell little objects for visitors to take home.  Lourdes and Santiago de Compostella are two obvious examples, but at a visit to St Winifred’s well in Holywell, north Wales, I found that it too has a gift shop where you can purchase religiously-themed memorabilia.

Piers Baker-Bates of the Open University talks about the value of his own pilgrimage memento, helping to clarify the personal connection that people have with pilgrimage objects.  This is part of the transcript from a short video, which at the time of writing you can find on the OU site here:

This is the pilgrimage medal I had after I went to Santiago [de Compostela] in 1995. It’s just the ordinary cheap, lead model they sell in the tourist shops there, nothing special at all, but it was simply, if you like, my memento mori of the expedition.
It’s a scallop shell. The scallop shell has traditionally been the symbol of St James because it is a native of Galicia, which is the region of Spain where Santiago de Compostela is, and supposedly, according to legend, when his body was found it was surrounded by scallop shells, and this is therefore ever since been the symbol of the saint.  So you will not just see the scallop as an individual symbol, but if you look at churches, if you look at hospices, if you look at other buildings connected with St James, they all have somewhere on them the scallop shell because it is the symbol of the saint.

If the chain wasn’t broken I’d still wear it round my neck all the time and it serves to remind me of something I did and I would like to do again eventually.  If I was a medieval pilgrim, I’d have worn it in my hat, and you would have seen a wonderful selection of people who’d been to all the major shrines, who had a selection of these in their hats, so you’d have Jerusalem, Santiago de Compostela, Rome – they all had their own symbols. . .

Even though there are millions of these in the world, it still has meaning because it has meaning for me in particular, because it is particular to me, but also if someone else has one of their own, it will mean something to them. But at the same time, as a symbol, it means something to everyone, so when anyone looks at one of these they will recognise the symbol and understand what it means.

The vessel could contain the holy water of the well, the sand surrounding the shrine or liturgical oils.  Some vessels were more elaborate than others.  The Meols example, even though highly abraded, was probably never a very sophisticated piece of craftwork, meaning that the pilgrim who bought it probably had little spare money to spend.  In Egypt, nearly all the complete examples were found in funerary contexts, indicating that they were sufficiently significant to the living that they wished to meet the afterlife with their pilgrim flasks at their sides.

Precursors of the the pilgrim flask

Clay vessel dating to the New Kingdom, painted with concentric rings, now in the Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaeology (UC66492). Source: Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaeology

The Coptic era pilgrim flasks were not an innovative form of pottery. The form emerged in the earlier New Kingdom (1550-1069BC).  These were in their turn were based on vessels imported from the Levant in the 18th Dynasty (1550-1295BC).  The form was soon taken up and copied by Egyptian potters who produced them for local demand.  They were usually manufactured in clay, like the later pilgrim flasks, and sometimes other materials including glass, faience, stone and even metal.  The early clay examples were frequently provided with a coloured slip and decoration that emulated the Near Eastern examples with concentric circles on each face. Kilroe suggests that the concentric circles were equivalent to branding, and that they were indicative of the contents of the flasks.  They grew in popularity in the 19th Dynasty (1295-1186BC), and became part of the potter’s repertoire from that point forward.  Their function was probably somewhat different from the later pilgrim flasks. One suggestion is that they were used for carrying valuable perfumed oils.

New Year flask from Egypt, now in the Walter’s Museum (48.419)

These were followed by so-called New Year’s flasks, which have the same basic shape, but with handles so small that they are merely decorative rather than functional.  The New Year’s flasks are often ornate and are usually made of faience, an expensive material exclusive to the elite.  New Year was one of the most important dates in the Egyptian calendar, marking the beginning of the Nile flood, which replenished the soil with fertile silts and saturated the land ready for germinating the seeds retained from the previous year’s harvest. Coinciding with the appearance in the night sky of the star Sirius, and closely associated with it, the new agricultural year was celebrated in an annual New Year festival called wep renpet meaning “opening of the year.”  During the Saite 26th Dynasty (c.664-535BC) New Year flasks became a particularly popular celebratory item.  They are found both in Egypt and abroad and are often decorated with papyrus and lily capitals.  The lug handles on the shoulders are often in the form of the deity Thoth, represented as a baboon, responsible for knowledge, wisdom and the calculation of time.  Nands of decoration around the body of the vessels and down the sides are also common. Many have hieroglyphs, often mentioning the wep renpet, together with favoured deities.

How did the Meols flask arrive in England?

Coins found in the northwest, including examples from the Wirral. Source: Philpott 2020, Journal of the Chester Archaeological Society, table V.1, p.53

F.H. Thompson discusses whether the Meols flask had been acquired at the St Menas shrine when it was brought to England or whether it was brought to the area at a much later date.  There is no reason to doubt that it was manufactured in the 6th or 7th centuries, and there are arguments in favour of it having been brought to England at that time.  As Thompson says, “finds of the late Saxon period from Meols are sufficiently common to suggest that this flask may well be contemporary.”  The presence of three mid to late 6th century Byzantine coins in the Meols area are consistent with connections to the southeast Mediterranean at that time.  This view is supported by William Anderson  who believes that the flask may be associated with other evidence of long-distant contact, “namely amphorae and imported fine wares found at Tintagel in Cornwall, and other sites in Ireland, Wales, England and Scotland,” possibly representing direct trading contacts between the Mediterranean and and the west of Britain. Robert Philpott’s examination of early Byzantine coins from the northwest also supports  a Mediterranean connection:  “Although we lack diagnostic material to identify the elite with whom Mediterranean trade was conducted, the finds indicate an entry point at the port of Meols.”  The Wirral coins, from Leasowe, Moreton,, Seacombe and Landican were issued over a period between 518 – 541 AD.

Susanne Bangert suggests two primary routes by which objects from Alexandria may have reached Britain.  The first is an overland route across Europe, along the Rhine corridor or through Italy and via the  Alps. Her other proposed route, by ship, would have passed through the Straits of Gibraltar and north up the Atlantic coast, putting into ports along the west cost of Britain, including Cornwall, Wales and perhaps Meols.

Beautiful photograph of Hilbre Island. Source: hilbreisland.info

It is a possibility that the pilgrim flask was connected with early Christian pilgrimage at Hilbre Island, just off the Wirral as part of a global pilgrimage circuit to Christian monasteries and shrines.  As unlikely as this sounds, it is not beyond the bounds of probability, as some of the Egyptian pilgrim flasks in England are found in the rough vicinity of former monastic sites (Canterbury, Derby, Durham, Norton, Runcorn and York).  Christianity arrived in England during the Roman occupation in the 4th century, after which it existed alongside pagan religions of the Anglo-Saxons until the arrival of Irish Christianity on the one hand, and the arrival of St Augustine’s mission to England from Rome in 597. Monasteries were established in both traditions, but many were destroyed by Viking raids during the 9th century. Only those of the Roman tradition were restored in the 10th century.  Pilgrimage was a popular activity in Britain from the early Christian period until the end of the medieval period, and it is possible that the Meols flask was deposited or lost during a pilgrim’s visit to the tidal Hilbre Island.  Although a monastic cell was established in the late 11th century by St Werburgh’s Benedictine Abbey in Chester, there was apparently a much earlier shrine to the obscure St Hildeberga, which the St Werburgh charters appear to confirm.

An example from Baldock, Herts., in the Letchworth Museum, no.7421. Source: Fitzpatrick-Matthews 2010

Another possibility is that although originally purchased at the Menas shrine, the Meols (and other English flask finds) were brought not directly from the site, but during near-contemporary or slightly later periods from Alexandria, locations in the Levant and elsewhere in the eastern Mediterranean, where many more Menas flasks have been found.  A generation or two on from the original pilgrims who purchased them, they may have entered local markets as devotional curios, sold by their families to contemporary travellers to raise cash. Then too, at a much later date, it could have been acquired as an antiquity by a collector, or as a travel memento by someone on military service in the Near East, or making the Grand Tour.  Philpott, in his analysis of coins from northwest England argues against this: “If the coins were modern losses by tourists or soldiers who served in eastern Europe, the Middle East or north Africa, as has often been asserted, the material recovered by metal detectorists should range more widely through the Byzantine era to embrace, for example, the common anonymous bronze issues of the late tenth to eleventh centuries, as well as other coins of Turkish, north African or Near Eastern origin.”

On balance, the available evidence seems to point a to a connection between the port of Meols and the eastern Mediterranean until the 7th century, and it seems likely that the Meols flask was introduced, along with other objects like the coins described by Philpott, at that time.

Final comments

There are four distinct phases that we know of in the life of the Meols pilgrim flask.  The first is its production.  Raw material sources were acquired, and the flask was manufactured.  The raw material was clay, very easy to source in the Nile Delta, and the manufacturing process was mundane. Hundreds of pilgrim flasks have survived, and this is one of the less elaborate examples, produced quickly and without flourishes.  The fact that the Menas pilgrim flask left the site of Abu Menas strongly suggests that it was purchased by a pilgrim, who bought one of the less expensive examples, and was probably not particularly well off.

The site of Abu Mena today. Source: Wikimedia Commons

Next, we find the pilgrim flask in Meols, so we know that it travelled.  There are a number of possible explanations for how it left the eastern Mediterranean and arrived in Meols, all of them viable.  Found in sand dunes, which cover the site of a small port, with a market, the object could have been hidden in a building that decayed, or may have been lost by its owner in or around the settlement.

The discovery of the flask in 1955, another stepping stone in its history, resulted in it being donated to its next port of call, the Grosvenor Museum, in 1956.  The museum deemed it of sufficient curiosity value to have replicas made, which were sold in the museum’s shop.

Subsequently, a number of academic papers were written about it.  Peter Carrington published a photograph of it in his book on Chester in 1994 (as mentioned at the beginning of this article, bringing us full circle), and it was described in some detail in a monograph about Meols in 2007.  This little object has had quite an interesting life.

Although this is the story of an object, its real value lies in its part of a much bigger story – that of early Christian pilgrimage.  When considered in the light of other pilgrim sites, and other objects that have travelled from the eastern Mediterranean to other parts of the world, it becomes much more than an object, and part of a fascinating narrative about people, movements and the way in which Christianity was understood and expressed in the 6th and early 7th centuries.  The St Menas pilgrim flasks also offer the chance to explore the relationship between Christianity and Egypt’s pagan past, via the survival of some of PHaraonic Egypt’s ideas and traditions in object form.  Finally, the presence of the pilgrim flask at Meols raises questions about the development of trade and transport on the Wirral and in Chester in the post-Roman period.

If anyone has anything to add to the story of the Meols pilgrim flask, do get in touch.

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The Wirral, showing Meols and Chester. Source: Google Maps

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Sources:

Books and papers:

Anderson, W. 2004. An archaeology of late antique pilgrim flasks. Anatolian Studies 54, p.79-93.
https://www.jstor.org/stable/3643040

Anderson, W. 2007. Menas flasks in the West: pilgrimage and trade at the end of antiquity.  Ancient West and East 6, p.221-43

Bagnall, R.S. 2001. Archaeological Work on Hellenistic and Roman Egypt, 1995–2000. American Journal of Archaeology. Archaeological Institute of America, 105 (2), p.227–243

Bangert, S. 2007 Menas ampullae: a case study of long-distance contacts.  In A. Harris (ed) Incipient Globalization? Long-distance contacts in the sixth century.  British Archaeological Reports International Series 1644 / Reading Medieval Studies 32. p.27-33.
https://centaur.reading.ac.uk/84537/1/RMS-2006-04_S._Bangert,_Menas_ampullae,_a_case_study_of_long-distance_contacts.pdf

Bourriau, J. 2004. The beginning of amphora production in Egypt, in J. Bourriau and J. Phillips (eds.), Invention and Innovation. The Social Context of Technological Change 2. Egypt, the Aegean and the Near East, 1650-1150 BC, Oxford, 78-95

Brooks Hedstrom, D.L. 2019. Archaeology of Early Christianity in Egypt. In Pettegrew, D.K., Caraher,  W.R. and Davis, T.D (eds).  The Oxford Handbook of Early Christian Archaeology, Oxford  Handbooks, Oxford Academic.

Carrington, P. 1994.  Chester. Batsford / English Heritage (flask mentioned on page 54, and shown on page 56, figure 33)

Craggs, J.D. 1982. Hilbre: The Cheshire Island: Its History and Natural HistoryLiverpool University Press

Farmer, David. 2011 (5th edition, revised). The Oxford Dictionary of Saints.  Oxford University Press.

Fitzpatrick-Matthews, K.J. 2016. Defining Fifth-century Ceramics in North Hertfordshire. Internet Archaeology, vol. 41.
https://intarch.ac.uk/journal/issue41/4/toc.html

Griffiths, D. and Bangert, S. 2007. Ceramic: The St Menas Ampulla.  In Griffiths, D., Philpott, R.A. and Egan, G. 2007 (see below), p.58-9

Griffiths, D., Philpott, R.A. and Egan, G. 2007. Meols. The Archaeology of the North Wirral Coast. Discoveries and observations in the 19th and 20th centuries, with a catalogue of collections. Oxford University School of Archaeology Monograph 68, Institute of Archaeology, University of Oxford
https://archaeologydataservice.ac.uk/archiveDS/archiveDownload?t=arch-966-1/dissemination/pdf/Meols_text_2020_complete-lo.pdf

Grossmann, P. 1998. The Pilgrimage Center of Abû Mînâ. in D. Frankfurter (ed.), Pilgrimage & Holy Space in Late Antique Egypt. Leiden-Boston-Köln, Brill. p.282

Harris, A. 2003 Byzantium, Britain and the West: the archaeology of cultural identity AD 400-650. Tempus.

O’Ferrall, R.S.M. 1951. A Pilgrim’s Flask found in Derby. Journal of Derbyshire Archaeology and Natural History Society 71, p.78-9.

Philpott, R.A. 2020. Early Byzantine Copper Coins from Lowland North-West England.  New Finds from Wirral, Cheshire and West Lancashire. Journal of the Chester Archaeological Society, volume 90, 2020, p.51-70

Richards, J.D., Naylor, J. and Holas-Clark, C.  Anglo-Saxon Landscape and Economy: using portable antiquities to study Anglo-Saxon and Viking Age England.  4.4.5. Meols, Cheshire. Internet Archaeology
https://intarch.ac.uk/journal/issue25/2/4.4.35.html

Stevenson, A. 2015. The Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaeology: Characters and Collections. Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaeology, p.35

Thompson F.H. 1956. Pilgrim’s flask from Meols. Journal of the Chester Archaeological Society 43, p.48-9

Wyn Griffiths, D. 1991. Anglo-Saxon England and the Irish Sea Region AD 800 – 1100. An Archaeological Study of the Lower Dee and Mersey as a Border Area. A Thesis presented for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. Department of Archaeology, the University of Durham
http://etheses.dur.ac.uk/1488/1/1488.pdf

Websites:

Gallorini, C. Innovating through Interactions: A Tale of Three Flasks.
https://www.researchgate.net/publication/260495223_Innovation_Through_Interactions_A_Tale_of_Three_’Pilgrim_Flasks’

Kilroe, L. 2014. Biography of an Egyptian Pilgrim Vessel. UCL 28th February 2014
UCL Culture Blog
https://bit.ly/3kBc65O

Medieval London. Ampulla
Fordham University
https://medievallondon.ace.fordham.edu/collections/show/90

St George Orthodox Ministry. The Coptic Pilgrims of the Wirral, 4th November 2020
http://www.stgeorgeministry.com/the-coptic-pilgrims-of-the-wirral/

 

100 years ago today: Finding Tutankhamen

Detail of an ivory box lid, showing Tutankhamen receiving flowers from his wife Ankhesenamun. Source: Wikipedia

Today in 1922, 26th November, Howard Carter broke the seals that protected the door to the tomb of a king called Tutankhamen, whose name had, until 1922,  been known from only a handful of small, relatively insignificant objects.  When he discovered the entrance to the tomb, Carter was full of hope that this was the longed-for culmination of his quest to find the only intact royal tomb in the Valley of the Kings in the religious centre of Egypt, now known as Luxor.

Peering through a small hole that he had broken through the door into the first chamber, and fearing that he would find yet another empty tomb robbed out in antiquity, the shimmering light of his candle picked out strange, shifting shapes, and the unmistakeable glitter of gold.  Carter spent the next decade cataloguing and conserving the fabulous, the fascinating and the downright staggering.  The king called Tutankhamen, little more than a name without a clearly understood identity, exploded into early 20th century consciousness and became an instant sensation.

In celebration of the centenary of this extraordinary find, the Royal Mint has released a Tutankhamen centenary £5.00 coin, and I am glad to see that Egyptologist and excellent author Joyce Tyldesley has published produced a new book about the king for 2022.  Otherwise the celebration of what was, for better or worse, a very British discovery seems to have confined itself to a few magazine articles and some largely recycled television shows.  Even in the wake of a somewhat lacklustre response to the annivrsary, it has been a good time to sit back and contemplate those heady days of the discovery 100 years ago, and to wonder why the entirety of the tomb’s contents remains unpublished today. 

Although the intention with the posts on this blog is to confine myself mainly to local subjects, this time there is no connection with the Chester-Wrexham area, but as I retain a personal interest in Egypt’s archaeology I decided to throw caution to the winds and go off-topic.  I started my working life as an archaeologist, but starvation forced me to find more predictable work.  It was many years later that a trip to the Eastern and Western Deserts of Egypt made up my mind to return to university to do a PhD on Egyptian prehistory. I was based at UCL, where I formed a long and ongoing relationship with the wonderful Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaeology in London.  These, then, are my excuses for pure self-indulgence.  The Tutankhamen story is a great one and continues to be a marvellous and constantly emerging insight both into the history, archaeology and art of Egypt, and into how research is done and how history is written.

Biban el-Muluk (“Gates of the Kings”)

Frontpiece of Volume 1 of Description de l’Egypt. Source: Wikipedia

The discovery of the tomb of Tutankhamen tomb by Howard Carter in 1922 begins with Napoleon Bonaparte’s invasion of Egypt in 1798.  Along with his army, Napoleon sent his extraordinary team of “savants,” some 150 intellectuals and scientists who recorded everything they found about Egypt’s present and past.  The books produced by Napoleon’s savants, complete with beautiful illustrations of Egypt’s Pharaonic heritage, were now circulating in western Europe and America and being received with rapture.  Jumping on the bandwagon of this enthusiasm, museums started to send representatives to Egypt to secure items for their collections.  Some of these agents were little better than treasure hunters.  The objective was the discovery of beautiful objects to furnish museums, not the participation in historical research. 

Less than a quarter of a century after Napoleon’s arrival in Egypt, the French scholar and polymath Jean François Champollion (1790-1832) used the trilingual text on the Rosetta Stone to crack the translation of the ancient Egyptian hieroglyphic script, unlocking the door to Egyptian religious beliefs, social organization, political dealings and wars.  The year was 1822, a full century before the discovery of the tomb of Tutankhamen.  Many more decades of research were required to build up a body of translated texts, from which ancient Egyptian history might begin to be articulated and understood.

Although the man who eventually discovered the tomb of Tutankhamen was Howard Carter (1874-1939), who was a very different proposition from the run-of-the-mill glory hunters who had so often preceded him, it was not Carter but the retired American lawyer Theodore Davis (1838-1915) who had first stab at finding an intact tomb in Biban el-Muluk, Gateway of the Kings, more popularly known today as the Valley of the Kings.

Panorama of the Valley of the Kings. Photograph by Nikola Smolenski. Source: Wikipedia

The Valley of the Kings is located on the east bank of the Nile at Luxor. It had been the burial place of many New Kingdom (c.1550-1099BC) kings of Egypt since about 1490BC when Thutomse I selected it as his burial place.  The last king to be buried there was probably Ramesses X in around 1099BC.  Between these two burial events, some 390 years apart, around 65 royal and noble individuals were entombed in the Valley, but all of the known royal tombs had been robbed for their treasures, an activity that began during the ancient Egyptian period.  In spite of policing of the valley throughout the New Kingdom, and the promise of the death penalty for thieves, tomb robbery was endemic. Although some tombs were robbed via their entrances, other robbers had ignored the front doors, and instead tunnelled in from above or from the side to avoid detection.

Tomb robbery reached such a crisis point that In the 21st Dynasty (1070–945 BC, some 800 years after the death of Tutankhamen) the High Priests of the god Amen gathered together the mummified remains of the kings who had survived the tomb robbers, rewrapped them, provided them with labels and stored them safely in hidden tombs known today as caches.  The bodies were, themselves, rarely of little interest to tomb robbers, who were seeking the rich, valuable and easily accessible treasures that accompanied the dead, particularly precious metals that could be melted down and sold on, or jewellery incorporating precious gems, that could be broken up and re-used.

The East Valley. Source: Wikipedia

Robbing tombs was not, unfortunately, confined to antiquity, and as western interest in Egyptian art developed, new objects began to appear in the antiquities markets of Cairo and Alexandria.  Sir William Flinders Petrie, one of the pioneers of serious archaeological investigation in Egypt, was amongst those purchasing for research purposes, but others were hoovering up artefacts in much greater numbers to sell to both museums and private collectors.  The sudden appearance on the market of all these objects, some of them truly remarkable, raised obvious questions about who was delivering them and where they were coming from.  The burial grounds of the kings and nobles were all on the east bank of the Nile at Luxor, and nearby was a sprawling village.  It emerged that some local families had become expert at locating tombs, mainly of the nobility, some of which lay beneath their homes, and when there became a demand for ancient Egyptian objects, began to empty tomb contents piece by piece to earn a living from the sales.  By trickle-feeding objects into the antiquities market, they hoped to divert suspicion.

The possibility that there might remain an intact tomb was receding all the time.  Those royal tombs that had been opened by the early 20th century revealed splendid architectural achievements and stunning decorative schemes, capturing complex religious ideas, but relatively few objects had been found.  They hinted at former treasure troves, and that raised hopes in the minds of explorers.  This was the specific dream of Theodore Davis when he began his excavations in the Valley of the Kings in 1902.  Davis, a retired American lawyer, was granted the concession for the Valley of the Kings, in spite of his lack of archaeological training.  A concession is a type of license to excavate, and the system still operates in Egypt today.  When it is granted to an individual or institution, no-one else is permitted to excavate within the zone covered by the concession.

 

Funerary mask of Thuya. Source: Wikipedia

Davis was churning through the Valley of the Kings like a human bulldozer.  In 1905, three years after he was awarded the concession, the dream of an intact royal tomb suddenly became a realistic proposition when Davis found the tomb of Yuya and his wife Thuya, numbered KV46 (KV standing for King’s Valley). Yuya and his wife Thuya were non-royal nobles who were allocated a burial space within the Valley of the Kings because they were parents of Tiye.  Tiye became the wife of Amenhotep III, mother of Akhenaten and grandmother of Tutankhamen. The burial chamber of KV46 was was stuffed full of fabulous artefacts, an unambiguous but tantalizing indication that an intact royal tomb might yet be discovered.  In total, Davis is credited with discovering 30 tombs between 1902 and 1914.  He also found three items bearing the name of Tutankhamen, who appeared to be a missing king.  One of these was found in 1907 in the unpromisingly named Pit 54, which contained abandoned objects relating directly to the burial of the king, including embalming materials and storage jars.

 

Howard Carter (1874 –1939). Source: Wikipedia

In the meantime, Howard Carter could merely watch the work in the Valley unfold and keep himself busy elsewhere.  Carter was well respected in Egyptology circles both as an archaeologist and as a member of the Antiquities Service.  He had gone to Egypt as an illustrator and watercolour painter and excelled at both.  As an archaeologist he had trained under the most notable pioneer of archaeological techniques at that time, Sir William Flinders Petrie (1853–1942).  He had moved on to become Inspector-General of Monuments of Upper Egypt, as a much-valued member of the Egyptian Antiquities Service from from 1900 to 1904, when he resigned on a point of principal over an argument with a French tourist.  Carter remained in Egypt hoping for the right job to come along, hiring himself out in the interim for various projects, nibbling around the edges of ancient Egyptian exploration in Luxor.  One of the more useful short-term appointments that he picked up was the recording the objects from the tomb of Yuya and Thuya, which gave him an intimate understanding of both the contents of the tomb, and the potential of the valley.

George Herbert, 5th Earl of Carnarvon. Source: Wikimedia Commons

In 1906 Carter began excavating for the Earl of Carnarvon, who was in Luxor for his health,  Carnarvon had been digging on an amateur basis but had caught the archaeological bug and wanted to ally himself to a credible archaeologist who could help him to take his new interest on to a more viable and formal footing.  Carter and Carnarvon watched the discoveries being made in the Valley of the Kings with envious eyes.  After 12 years of excavation and discovery, Davis feared that the valley was exhausted.  It was only on his death in 1915 that the concession came up for grabs, and Lord Carnarvon moved fast to secure it for himself and Carter.  

The First World War interrupted all archaeological activity in Egypt, and Carter himself was employed as a diplomatic courier.  However, by 1917 life had settled down sufficiently for him to resume full time archaeological work in Luxor.  By the time that Carnarvon’s Valley of the Kings concession could be acted upon, Carter had a strategy.  He suspected that the fugitive references on objects to a king called Tutankhamen found by Davis, were far more important than anyone had yet understood.  Although various royal mummies had been identified in the 21st Dynasty caches, Tutankhamen was not amongst them.  Carter believed that the objects represented an as yet undiscovered tomb, one that might have escaped the attention of the ancient Egyptian tomb robbers, and he was sure that he could find it by digging down to the bedrock of the valley.

KV62

Isometric diagram showing the tomb of Tutankhamen, by R.F. Morgan. Source: Wikipedia

Carter’s first years of excavation in the valley were profoundly disappointing, both to himself as an archaeologist with hopes of making the ultimate discovery, and to Lord Carnarvon who was footing the bill.  Carter was taking no chances, and wherever he started a new excavation, worked down to the bedrock, but the untouched tomb remained elusive.   As Nick Reeves writes in The Complete Tutankhamun

Countless boys and men laboured to move thousands upon thousands of tones of limestone rubble by basked and hand-propelled Decauville railway.  But finds were few.

In 1922, after five years of fruitless investment in Carter’s hunt for an intact tomb, Lord Carnarvon was wearied of failure but Carter was able to convince him to fund one last season.  For Carter, knowing that he was the only person left believing that an intact tomb remained to be found, it was his last chance.  Carnarvon did not bother travelling to Egypt for the excavation season, so when Carter found a partially concealed tomb entrance on found 4th November 1922, Carnarvon was at home at Highclere Castle in Hampshire. 

Stephen Cross’s water flow diagram showing how flash floods cascaded into the central area where KV62, black dot on the far left, is located. Source:  Stephen Cross (reference in Sources)

In the event, the tomb’s doorway had been hidden not by some devious ancient Egyptian method of concealment but by the prosaic deposition of layers of liquid mud carrying loose stone and other debris.  Although it rains rarely in Luxor, when it does it, it does it properly, and the loose, dry sand, bits of stone and other surface materials dislodge instantly in the flash floods to become a thick, debris-bearing liquid that cascades down flood channels towards the floodplain below.  At the end of the 18th Dynasty (c.1292 BC), a particularly fierce flash flood is thought to have plunged into the central area from different directions to where tombs KV55, KV62 (Tutankhamen) and KV63 are located. Where the channels met, in a less steeply inclined part of the valley, it slowed, depositing some of its muddy load, 1m (3ft) thick, whilst the rest continued downhill, flooding KV7 (Ramesses II) and the enormous KV5 (the sons of Ramesses II).  The deposits then baked solid in the heat of the sun and looked very much like the surrounding natural bedrock.  Another royal tomb, dating to the 19th Dynasty, had subsequently been excavated over the top of Tutankhamen’s tomb, but had not breached it. Huts dating to a later pharaoh were built over the top of both tombs, keeping the entrance of KV62 safe for centuries.  

Carter’s policy of digging down through anything that stood in his way to reach the underlying bedrock was labour-intensive but rewarded him with the entrance to the tomb.  The seals that Carter could see on the partially uncovered doorway to the tomb were badly worn and there was nothing on the visible section to identify who the owner might have been. Even though those seals were unbroken, there was absolutely no guarantee that the tomb was intact, because robbers might have tunnelled directly into the chambers.  Frustratingly, Carter needed to notify Lord Carnarvon of the discovery, and await his arrival from England. He sent the following telegram to Carnarvon:

At last have made wonderful discovery in Valley; a magnificent tomb with seals intact; re-covered for your arrival; congratulations.

That night Carter wrote prosaically in his diary “Discovered tomb under tomb of Ramsses VI investigated same & found seals intact.”  The following day, he began to put in place some basic infrastructure to prepare for the opening of the tomb.  It must have been a period of terrible anxiety, but even with the limitations of travel in the early 1900s, Carnarvon and his daughter managed to arrive in Luxor less than three weeks later, on 23rd November 1922.  Work resumed immediately.

Once the door was fully cleared, the names framed in cartouches announced that this was the tomb of Tutankhamen, vindication for Carter, who had searched for the king for 5 years.  He must have been on Schrödinger-type tenterhooks, full of hope that he was about to make the biggest find in Egyptian archaeological history, but fearing that this was yet another robbed tomb.  The passage on the other side of the door had been blocked with rubble by its builders to protect it from potential tomb robbers, and this had to be cleared.  Another door was revealed. 

Inner coffin of Tutankhamen in the Egyptian Museum, Cairo. Source: Wikipedia

On 26th November 1922, the second door was breached with a hole large to act as an inspection hatch. Carter was probably expecting to find another corridor on the other side, a long slender pathway with wide shallow steps, sloping gently downwards and possibly flanked by one or two side chambers until it eventually reached a burial chamber.  These long, slender passage tombs, often with a dog-leg turn midway, were typical of a number of previous 18th Dynasty tombs.  Carter made the small hole in the new door, and pushed his candle through:

At first I could see nothing, the hot air escaping from the chamber causing the candle to flicker, but presently, as my eyes grew accustomed to the light, details of the room within emerged slowly from the mist, strange animals, statues and gold – everywhere the glint of gold.  For the moment – an eternity it must have seemed to the others standing by – I was struck dumb with amazement, and when Lord Carnarvon, unable to stand the suspense any longer, inquired anxiously, “can you see anything?” it was all I could do so get out the words, “Yes, wonderful things.”

Howard Carter with one of his team examining the remains of Tutankhamen. Photograph by Harry Burton. Source: Wikipedia

Electric light was soon installed, a metal gate replaced the wooden grille in front of the door and a small but illustrious team of specialists was assembled to carry out the long, slow work.  Carter and his team continued to work in the tomb for six years, supervising the recording of the objects in situ, followed by their removal and accessioning into the Egyptian Museum in Cairo.

Now that he had found the tomb, Howard Carter was in no hurry.  He was organized and conscientious, taking years to empty the tomb, maintaining detailed visual and written records as he proceeded.  His diaries, notes  and record cards are still available, digitized for online use by the Griffiths Institute.  Perhaps the most immediately powerful record of the tomb content was provided by the photographer Harry Burton, who did a sublime job of capturing images of all that was found.  His photographs are works of documentary art, forming a superlative record of how the objects in the tomb were deposited.  Although the objects in glass cabinets in the Egyptian Museum in Cairo are beautiful, there is nothing like Burton’s photographs for understanding what the tomb looked like when it was found.

The antechamber of KV62 as it was found, photographed by Harry Burton. Source: Wikipedia

The tomb was emptied section by section.  It would take Carter another decade before the job of recording, removing and conserving the objects in the tomb was complete.  The sheer immensity of the task is hinted at by the photographs, but the simple fact that over 5000 objects had been crammed into that small set of rooms gives a better indication of the task facing Carter and his team.  The sheer richness of the just the smaller objects found in the tomb are indicated by this list in the book The Complete Tutankhamun by Nicholas Reeves, on the contents page for Chapter 5:

Guardian Statues; Ritual Figures and Magical Objects; the shabtis; Little Golden Shrine; Wooden Funerary Models; Ritual Couches; Jewellery, amulets and regalia; Clothing and Textiles; Cosmetic Objects; Games and Game Boxes; Musical instruments; Writing materials and equipment; ‘Heirlooms’; Chariots and chariot equipment; weaponry; Sticks, staves and fans; Bends and headrests; Chairs and thrones; Boxes and chests; Tools and lamps; Metal and stone vessels.; Faïence and glass; Wine jars and other pottery; baskets; foodstuffs.

Pectoral with a translucent Libyan Desert Glass scarab at its centre. Source: Archaeology Wiki

Some of the objects were more unexpected than others.  An iron dagger made of meteoric material that had presumably been found in the desert was included in the mummy bindings.  A huge piece of Libyan Desert Glass, probably created during meteorite impacts on the desert sand, was incorporated into a stunning “pectoral,”  a type of elaborate necklace that sat on the chest.  These materials are very rare, and clearly had a unique intrinsic value in the 18th Dynasty.

That all of this remained in the tomb, with an awful lot more besides, is very surprising given that the tomb had been robbed twice during the period that the valley remained in use, probably not long after the tomb was first sealed, and certainly before the flash food at the end of the 18th Dynasty.  Both incursions left evidence.  The first robbery accessed the tomb via the entrance, after which the corridor between the entrance and the first internal door was blocked with rubble and the door re-sealed.  The second robbers accessed the tomb via a tunnel excavated through the surrounding rock.  Carter’s description of the scene resulting in the Annexe is evocative:

One [tomb robber] – there would probably not have been room for more than one – had crept into the chamber, and had then hastily but systematically ransacked its entire contents, emptying boxes, throwing things aside, piling them one upon another, and occasionally passing objects through the hole to his companions for closer examination in the outer chamber.  He had done is work just about as thoroughly as an earthquake.

Carter estimated that some 60% of the jewellery was stolen, based on dockets made by the priests at the time of the burial which, when assembled, made up a form of inventory.  It makes sense that the robbers would have focused only on the objects that were both very valuable and most easily portable.  Items that could be easily sold on or melted down would have been prioritized.  Gold might be chipped off larger objects, but the bigger the object, the more likely it was to be left behind.  Still, a lot of small items and gold were left behind, so why did the robbers not return to complete the job?  It seems most likely that they were discovered and then dealt with as usual, being subjected to torture before being put to death, both as punishment for desecrating a royal religious site, and as a warning to others.  Once the tomb’s entrance was certainly resealed, the act of the muddy flood waters completed the job of disguising the entrance, until Carter came along.

A political time-bomb

Howard Carter and Lord Carnarvon at the door of the burial chamber. Source: Wikimedia Commons

As the tomb’s fame gathered a momentum all of its own, it also became a ticking bomb. Lord Carnarvon, in a bid to simplify dealings with the media, made the colossal diplomatic error of signing a contract with The Times newspaper to grant them exclusive rights to the news emerging from the tomb, offending both Egyptian and international media outlets.  Worse, it  endowed the enterprise an unlooked for and very undesirable air of colonialist arrogance that gave the governing Egyptian nationalists all the ammunition they needed to draw attention to unwelcome foreign interference in Egyptian state affairs. To all intents and purposes, Carnarvon and Carter were hijacking access to Egypt’s own heritage.  The tension was corrosive, and impacted the relationship between Carnarvon and Carter, who were deeply divided on how to deal with the situation.

When Lord Carnarvon died on 5th April 1923, aged 57, from an infected insect bite, Carter found himself without a buffer zone between himself and the various interested and aggrieved parties.  He was no diplomat, and contrived to alienate all the key government and administrative officials whose support he should have been seeking.  In a remarkable act of pique, Carter downed tools, stopped work, citing “the impossible restrictions and discourtesies of the Egyptian Public Works Department and its antiquity service.”  It was a foolish move that not only infuriated the Egyptian authorities but gave them the leverage they needed to oust him.  Carter had infringed the terms of the concession, and was now banned from the tomb.  Legal action failed, and Carter left the country, leaving the Egyptian government to declare that it intended to continue the work itself.

Tourists gathered around the entrance of KV62 in 1923, the year after the discovery. Source: Wikipedia

Carter was only permitted to return after a national emergency was triggered by the murder of a British diplomat, followed by the downfall of the nationalist government and the renewal of firmer greater British control over Egypt.  A new concession was granted in January 1925, but this time there was to be no exclusive deal with The Times, and there was to be no attempt to remove any of the tomb’s contents from Egypt.   Carter died in 1939, only seven years after completing his work on the objects found in the tomb. He had been planning a six-volume publication of the tomb, but it never happened.

Howard Carter and Lord Carnarvon had found the tomb of Tutankhamen, and a well-chosen team of specialists examined and emptied it, but there was still considerable research required to learn about the king himself, and to learn more about what the objects in the tomb could impart to researchers about 18th Dynasty Egypt itself.  Today, although many individual academic papers have been written by specialists in certain particular fields, like leather or jewellery, and dozens of coffee table books have been written, no single, centralized co-ordinated project based on the tomb has been masterminded.  Although Tutankhamen the tourist attraction and work of art are very familiar, Tutankhamen the ultimate resource for primary research has somehow fallen between the gaps.

There are seriously strong arguments for getting to grips with the entire collection as a single co-ordinated project, leveraging worldwide specializations and skills, with research underpinned by a strong theoretical and methodological approach.  Storing and exhibiting items is not the same as understanding them, and digging without publishing leads to dead ends.  Carter died before he could publish is planned 6-volume treatise, and although subsequent researchers have published piecemeal research papers according to their research interests, no centralized project has been attempted.  At the very least, an online relational database of the objects in the Tutankhamen inventory, listing all the existing publications based on it, would be a valuable resource, to complement the Griffith Institute’s excellent online databases of the original records made by Howard Carter, Harry Burton and others.

Final Comments

Howard Carter’s discovery of Tutankhamen, sponsored by Lord Carnarvon, remains a great story, well worth re-telling 100 years later.  Carter died before he could publish his 6-part planned treatise on the tomb, which remains a gap that has yet to be filled.  Even so, the discovery remains a sensational find, with works of art that even Carter could not have imagined finding, filling gallery after gallery at the Egyptian Museum in Cairo.  Flipping through a book of pictures of the tomb, I continue to be amazed at how it could all have fitted into such a tiny set of spaces.  Each piece is magnificent in its own right, and together the collection provides material confirmation of the story of the afterlife told in the hieroglyphic texts on tomb walls, building a vivid impression of the hopes and ambitions of ancient Egyptian royalty and nobility.  In so many ways, Carter gave Tutankhamen an afterlife that the young king could never have imagined.

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Note:  Tutankhamen versus Tutankhamun

The name of Tutankhamen. Source: pharaoh.se

Up until relatively recently the anglicized name of the king’s name was written as “Tutankhamun,” although Howard Carter spelled the name with an “e” instead of the more familiar “u” in his books about the tomb.  Ancient Egyptian script omitted vowels, and a series of conventions were therefore used to make ancient Egyptian words pronounceable today.   As standardization has become increasingly desirable, the new system of dealing with the problem of missing vowels is to use the letter “e” where no other clues are available.

To explain a little further for anyone interested in how this works, the process of anglicizing hieroglyphs goes through two steps.  The first step, which you can see in the above image from the pharoah.se website, shows a line in italics, and this is called transliteration.  A formalized set of characters and symbols are used to capture a writing system that may include elements not used in English (or German, French etc) but are recognizable to anyone studying ancient Egyptian texts.  As you can see in the italicized line of transliteration above, as well as familiar alphabet characters there is an apostrophe and an “h” with a curved line under it.  For publication and general chat, these are simplified into something that can be expressed using the English alphabet.

Alabaster vase from Gurob showing cartouches (name frames) of Tutankhamen. UC16021. Source: Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaeology

In the case of Tutankhamen this breaks down as follows (keep looking back at the hieroglyphic name shown above, with transliteration and translation).

Tutankhamen’s name is composed of three separate words, which Carter wrote as Tut-Ankh-Amen but are today run together as Tutankhamun (older convention) or Tutankhamen (newer convention).  The middle hieroglyph in “Tut” (the little bird) is transliterated as a “w”, and the “a” in ankh is a hieroglyph  that has no real equivalent in English and is transliterated with the apostrophe symbol.  The third element of his name, which is the name of the great god Amen, is actually transliterated  “imn,” the “a” of Amen being a hieroglyph usually transliterated as an “i.”  In older books that tradition was to add a “u” between the “m” an “n” to make Amun, which made it easy to pronounce, but an “e” is the new standard. As this one name illustrates, the business of transliterating ancient Egyptian names into modern equivalents has a long way to go before real standardization is achieved.

You may be puzzled because the name Amen is written first.  The name of the king is always written in his cartouches in the order Amen-Tut-Ankh.  This is because the name of the god always takes precedence over the name of the king.  This is termed “honorific transposition.”  But his name was Tut-Ankh-Amen.  Go figure 🙂  

Finally, Tutankhamen was actually born Tutankhaten, and changed his name on the death of his father Akhenaten.  But that’s another story.


Sources

This was written for fun, so I wrote most of it off the top of my head.   I have, however, checked important details, dates and quotes in the books below.  Any errors are of course my own.

Books and papers:

  • Carter, Howard 1927, republished 2007.  The Tomb of Tutankhamen. Max Press (with an introduction by John Romer)
  • Carter, Howard and Mace, Arthur 1923, republished 2004. The Tomb of Tut Ankh Amen: Volume 1: Search Discovery and the Clearance of the Antechamber. Duckworth Egyptology
  • Cross, Stephen. W., 2008. The hydrology of the Valley of the Kings. The Journal of Egyptian Archaeology, 94(1), 303–310.
  • Frayling, Christopher 1993. Protecting Tutankhamun. Conservation Journal. July 1993, Issue 08
  • Reeves, Nicholas 1990.  The Complete Tutankhamun. The King, the tomb and the royal treasure. Thames and Hudson
  • Tyldesley, Joyce 2013. Tutankhamen’s Curse: The developing history of an Egyptian king. Profile Books
  • Tyldesley, Joyce 2022.  Tutankhamun. Pharaoh-Icon-Enigma.  Headline.

Websites:

Griffith Institute
http://www.griffith.ox.ac.uk

Harry Burton photographs
http://www.griffith.ox.ac.uk/gri/carter/gallery/

Excavation journals and diaries made by Howard Carter and Arthur Mace
http://www.griffith.ox.ac.uk/discoveringtut/journals-and-diaries/season-4/journal.html

Howard Carter watercolours, prior to the discovery of Tutankhamen. Griffith Institute.
http://www.griffith.ox.ac.uk/gri/Carter_birds.html

Mummy Bandage from Tutankhamun’s Embalming Cache (Pit 54) ca. 1336–1327 B.C.
https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/548838

The Amarna Project
https://www.amarnaproject.com/

The Theban Mapping Project
https://thebanmappingproject.com/

The Getty Conservation Institute: Conservation and Management of the Tomb of Tutankhamen (2009–2019)
https://www.getty.edu/conservation/our_projects/field_projects/tut/

Royal Mint Tutankhamun Centenary £5.00 coin
https://www.royalmint.com/shop/limited-editions/discovery-of-tutankhamuns-tomb/the-100th-anniversary-of-the-discovery-of-tutankhamuns-tomb-2022-5-brilliant-uncirculated-coin/

Egyptological
Libyan Desert Glass and the Breast Ornament of Tutankhamen
By Andie Byrnes. Published on Egyptological, September 9th 2011, Magazine Edition 2
http://lancastrian.net/kemet/2011/09/09/libyan-desert-glass-and-the-breast-ornament-of-tutankhamen-4291

The Dominican Friary at Rhuddlan

Introduction

Rhuddlan Friary by Samuel and Nathaniel Buck 1742.  Click to see the larger image. Source: Coflein

Prior to visiting Edward I’s 1277 Rhuddlan Castle (upcoming) I was having a look on the Ordnance Survey map of Rhuddlan, and saw that a little way downriver from Edward I’s castle, and beyond the earlier motte-and-bailey castle of Twthill, there is a site marked as “remains of a friary.”  I was unaware of anything there, so I had a look through my books and on the Coflein website.  Sure enough, there was a substantial Dominican friary there, established in 1258 by Llywelyn ap Grufudd (Llywelyn the Last), 19 years prior to Edward I’s castleIt went the way of the greater percentage of monastic establishments, and was dissolved by Henry VIII in 1538.  In some texts it is referred to as a priory, but the friaries were originally quite different from abbeys and priories.

The site of the Rhuddlan Dominican Friary today. The farm in the foreground lies over the site, and some of the buildings incorporate elements from the Medieval building. Source: Coflein

Today there is almost no sign that it ever existed.  This is by no means an isolated case of a monastic or mendicant building being erased from the landscape.  Of around 270 friaries of the different orders, only 15 in England and Wales have survived well enough to determine their layout and appearance.  Some are known only from their archaeological remains and others have yet to be investigated archaeologically and therefore appear, for all intents and purposes, to have vanished.  In the case of Rhuddlan Friary, there are details of its past that can be recovered even without any ruins to examine, although it has been a jigsaw assembled by many people and published in different places.  The earliest useful account, by Harry Longueville Jones in 1847, worked hard to pull together the various tenuous threads, as its author describes:  “The unsatisfactory complaint, of fewness of materials for the history of Religious Houses in Wales, applies with peculiar force to that of the Priory of Rhuddlan; and the utmost that can, at present, be attempted, towards an account of it must consist in the stringing together of various brief uncorrected relics, scattered up and down in various books and a few manuscripts.”  It still feels a bit like that, but it is work like that of Jones that paved the way for people like me.

Over the site where it once stood there is now a working farm and caravan park, formerly Plas Newydd and currently called Abbey Farm.  It does, however, incorporate some stonework from the former friary, and parts of it are therefore of considerable interest.  The farm is private property and not open to visits from the general public, although a public footpath skirts it.  Fortunately, there are various accounts and photographs available of the surviving masonry and tomb slabs.  In addition, much of the friary church was still standing in the middle of the 18th century, when a drawing of it was made by Buck (above) showing a simple but substantial layout with gothic styling, with Rhuddlan Castle in the background, and this has allowed assessment of what was there at the time of the dissolution.  It has also been mentioned in a number of Medieval documents.

Rhuddlan. The map on the left shows the location of Rhuddlan (source: Google Maps). The map on the right shows the location of Rhuddlan Priory in relation to the 11th century Twthill motte-and-bailey castle and Edward I’s 1277 stone castle (source: Ordnance Survey Explorer 264 – Vale of Clwyd)———–

The Dominicans

Saint Dominic (c.1170–1221), portrayed in the Perugia Altarpiece by Fra Angelico. Galleria Nazionale dell’Umbria, Perugia. Source: Wikipedia

The Order of Preachers (Ordinis Praedicatorum), better known as the Dominicans, Black Friars or Preaching Friars were founded in Toulouse, France, in the early 13th century by Spanish priest Dominic of Caleruega.  Attwater describes a Dominican friar as “one who combines elements of the earlier monasticism – its dedicatory vows, its communal life, its daily round of praise of God in church – with the manifold works of the pastoral ministry.”  In a pre-plague era where overpopulation was a serious problem, and the poor and uneducated were clustered into many  towns, the role of the mendicant orders was conspicuous and often impressive.

The order of St Dominic (c.1170-1221) was officially recognised by the papacy in 1216.  Like the other monastic and mendicant orders they had strict rules, but unlike the majority of other British monastic establishments, they based themselves not on the rules of St Benedict but on the Rule of St Augustine.  They were therefore much closer in their practises and values to the Austins, Franciscans and Carmelites, also mendicants, than any of the orders based on the Rule of St Benedict that dotted the British rural landscape.  The three main focal points of the Dominicans were:

  1. Scholarship and intellectual integrity were seen as essential to salvation for heretics and the poor, whose ignorance led them astray.  Dominicans recruited amongst graduates and clerics. Robust theological training was given to all new Dominican friars, and education was essential to their ethos
  2. A vow of corporate as well as personal poverty was also integral, meaning that, at least in the first century of their activities, they could not engage in commercial activities and were dependent on charity for their survival, and would accept land and houses with which to establish themselves, or money with which to purchase them (unlike the Franciscans who rejected the ownership of property)
  3. A mission to both preach to and lend aid to the poor, weeding out heresy was fundamental to their ideas, following the example of the apostles to evangelize, leading the misguided and disadvantaged to salvation

St Dominic’s house, Maison Seilha,n at Place du Parlement Chapelle, Toulouse, France. Source: Wikipedia

The Dominicans organized themselves with a system of centralized government, an elected body that resembled the General Chapter of the Cistercian order (an annual conference to administer and rule the order).  The Dominican friaries were divided into provinces, each of which was headed by an elected provincial prior.  These answered to a master-general who was himself elected.  Each friary had a prior at its head who was elected by the chapter, and not only attended the annual chapter but was also accompanied by another member of the same priory whose role was, somewhat disconcertingly, to report on the prior’s performance.  This type of performance review and downward as well as upward accountability is very modern in concept.  It was this organization and accountability that turned the Dominicans from wandering clerics into a force to be reckoned with, which became important as the different mendicant orders found themselves increasingly in competition for donations, both with each other and the older institutions.

The Dominicans arrived in England in around 1221, and were known as the Black Friars or Friars Preacher.  They spread first to Ireland and then, in 1230, to Scotland. There were five Dominican houses in Wales, two of which, Bangor and Rhuddlan, were in north Wales.  By 1260 the Dominicans had persuaded both wealthy and poor that there was much to recommend them.  They had around thirty six houses in England, nine in Scotland and the five in Wales, and by the end of the 13th century there were around 60 in total.

The earliest preaching took place in public places like market squares where a sizeable audience could be gathered.  As they became established and increasingly popular, and were able to use donations to found churches to which audiences could be attracted, they began to preach on their own premises.  They tailored their preaching to their audience, and presented themselves as men of the people, sharing their poverty, quite distinct from both the upper echelons of society and the more established Benedictine monasteries.  At the same time they also appealed to the new commercial classes in the urban centres that they favoured.

Dominicans believed that ignorance was at the heart of heresy and defection from God, and that education would provide the ignorant and the poor with the tools to achieve salvation.  Throughout Europe the teaching of theology and logic continued to be of importance to the Dominicans, and each Dominican priory was responsible for setting up its own school to teach the basics, while they also set up regional schools for the further education of those friars who were academically promising. Leading Dominicans increasingly contributed to the development of Medieval universities.  Their mission to educate the laity was given an extra relevance by the decision of the Fourth Lateran Council of 1215, which required that every person should make confession to a priest at least once a year.  This required the general public to understand exactly what was required for a blameless life, and what steps were required in order to make a valid confession.

The extensive ruins of the massive Fountains Cistercian Abbey in Yorkshire. Source: Wikipedia, photograph by Mike Peel

Whereas Benedictine monks renounced all personal possessions and properties, the monastic houses in which they lived and worshipped could be very wealthy indeed, and were often fairly massive and elaborate structures.  Fountains Abbey (Benedictine, Yorkshire), Glastonbury (Benedictine, Somerset) and Lewes Priory (Cluniac, Sussex) are good examples.  The mendicants, by contrast, were permitted only to acquire enough resources to survive, via begging for alms or through charitable donations and bequests.  Even so, the friars of different orders were so popular, amongst the wealthy as well as the poor, that churches grew from simple places of worship to much grander affairs.  As J. Patrick Greene puts it “the more successfully the friars gave enabled the wealthy to gain spiritual grace through the vicarious experience of poverty, the less it became a reality for the friars themselves.”  This can be seen at the Franciscan friary in Oxford and the Dominican friary in Chester. Hinnebusch expands on this, and suggests that in the 13th century the Dominicans were also able to generate income of their own:  “Most houses had gardens, orchards, groves, and sometimes vineyards and fish ponds. Undoubtedly some houses were able to sell part of the produce from these sources and thus supplement the alms of the people.”  At least in the early years of their mission, their properties were not rented out, certainly as this was in direct violation of Dominican rules, which were strictly enforced.  There is more on this in connection with Rhuddlan Friary, below.  In the later Medieval period, however, matters changed as Hinnebusch explains:

Pope Gregory X. Source: Wikipedia

In 1261, a papal bull allowed the Order to accept revenues for the purchase of ecclesiastical ornaments, vestments, and books. In 1266 friars were allowed to accept inheritances which would have come to them if they had remained in the world. These could be held or converted into money for the maintenance of the community. In 1274 after the attack on the mendicant orders at the Council of Lyons, Gregory X declared that the friars could “accept properties with a safe conscience.” The bull Supra Cathedram of Boniface VIII, 1299, in obliging the friars to give a fourth of all legacies, bequests, funeral charges, and other donations to the parish church struck a death blow to mendicant poverty. Under these conditions the quest and voluntary gifts were no longer sufficient, and the Order was obliged to seek for fixed sources of income.

Inevitably the mendicants stepped on the toes of the secular clergy, those bishops and parish priests whose congregations and incomes were under threat by the arrival of the mendicants, particularly as the mendicant churches grew and incorporated larger congregations.  Papal intervention was sought on several occasions, but the tensions continued.

——–

The Dominican Friary at Rhuddlan

The foundation of the friary

The Dominican Friary at Rhuddlan was established by Llywelyn ap Gruffud (Llywelyn the Last) in 1258, 19 years before work began on Edward I’s castle nearby.  He is also thought to have founded the priory at Bangor in the mid-13th century.  It was a tradition amongst the Welsh princes to found monasteries.  Although Cistercian monasteries were particularly prestigious amongst the princes, with one in each of the main cantrefs, Llywelyn was not a lavish spender on elaborate monastic projects, although he occasionally made financial gifts to those houses established by his ancestors.  He became a benefactor of the very small Cistercian monastery at Cymer near Dolgellau that had been established by Gruffudd ap Cynan of Gwynedd in 1198, as well as of Beddgelert Augustinian Priory near Bangor, thought to have been established by one or more of the lords of Gwynedd in 1200.  He made a loan to an abbot of Valle Crucis Cistercian Abbey near Llangollen, which had been founded by Madog ap Gruffydd Maelor, ruler of Powys (north), in 1201.  Perhaps when it came to founding his own houses, he preferred the ideologies and practices of the Dominicans; it is also possible that they represented a rather less eye-watering investment.  It should be noted that Samuel Lewis, in his 1849 Topographical History of Wales, believed that it had been established in 1197 by Ranulf III of Chester, but he gives no explanation for his thinking.  

Rhuddlan Friary was established on the River Clwyd, 4.8km (3 miles) to the sea on the cost of North Wales, set above the floodplain, with a short cliff separating it from the valley below.  A town had been here since the Anglo-Saxon period, taking advantage of the best pace to ford the river.  William the Conqueror is thought to have ordered the building of the Twthill motte-and-bailey castle which was built in the 11th century and was probably still maintained for defensive purposes when the Dominicans set up their friary.

Inscribed tomb slab. Source: Coflein

There were only two Dominican houses in north Wales, the other being in Bangor, established in 1251, seven years earlier than Rhuddlan, again probably by Llywelyn ap Gruffud.  Wales was not strong on mendicant orders in general, primarily because they favoured urban areas, and Wales in the 13th century lacked the busy towns that were growing up in England.  There was only one Franciscan house in north Wales, on Anglesey, and a single Carmelite house, at Denbigh.  Given that there were so few mendicant orders represented in north Wales it would be interesting to understand why Rhuddlan, of all the possible towns in Wales, was selected as an attractive site for the Dominicans.  Although it may have had something to do with Llywelyn himself, it is also possible that the founding friar may have had input, and may have had a connection to Rhuddlan.

Whether parish church, abbey, priory or friary, all religious establishments came under the wing of a regional ecclesiastical body, a diocese, headed by a bishop.  By 1291 Rhuddlan Friary came under the diocese of St Asaph (in English), Llanelwy (in Welsh), together with other ecclesiastical deaneries (groups of parishes) like Aberconwy Cistercian Abbey, Strata Marcella Cistercian Abbey near Conwy, Valle Crucis Cistercian Abbey near Llangollen and Basingwerk Cistercian Abbey near Holywell.  Rhuddlan Friary, Valle Crucis Abbey and Aberconwy Abbey all provided St Asaph with bishops.  Rhuddlan’s Prior Anian II (or Einion II) became the bishop of St Asaph in 1268.

It is not known where the friars came from.  Dominican scholarship was an important component of their ethos, and the Rhuddlan friars would have received training when they joined the order, although Latin would have formed a common language, and a common bond.  Rhuddlan had passed between the English and Welsh through its history, but because friars mingled with communities, it is probable that at least some of the friars must have been Welsh speakers.  Attwater points to the dozen Dominican bishops that he knows of with English names, but says that the impression they give is misleading, and that Welsh friars predominantly had Welsh names.  Potential sources for friars to populate a new friary could have included the other Welsh friaries, but also reasonably nearby was Chester, where a Dominican friary had been established in 1236 and was doing very well.

The friary architecture

Although there is almost nothing left of the Dominican friary at Rhuddlan, it will have been built on the lines of other Dominican communal establishments.  Like the more numerous Benedictine monasteries and priories, a Dominican friary consisted of a church, which made up one side of a complex of buildings that were arranged in  square or rectangle around a garden, the garth.  The church would usually be on the north, and the domestic and administrative buildings were incorporated into the other buildings over one or two storeys.  The image below shows the layout of the mainly 14th century Dominican friary at Norwich, as an example, in this case fairly elaborate but, like most Dominican friaries, the church had no side transepts which makes them look significantly different from Benedictine-style abbeys and priories.

Ground plan of Norwich Friary. Source: Giraud, E.J. and Linde, .J.C. 2021 – via Google Books

The drawing by Buck shown at the top of the page and shown again below has been invaluable to architectural experts who have been able to clarify the main features.  The following is taken from Clapham, published in 1927, who has done an excellent job of deconstructing the image and reconstructing the friary, and concludes that the friary was built on a “much more ambitious scale than was usual among lesser friaries.”

Rhuddlan Friary by Buck. Source: Coflein

The whole length of the building shown was no doubt occupied by the dorter [dormitory] on the first floor and at its north end is some indication of the junction with the church, though even then this building had been entirely destroyed. Projecting eastwards from the range is a gabled structure, with three lancet-windows in the east end and three in the south return wall; this was undoubtedly the chapter-house with a room above it. Further south, in the main range, is the archway of a passage from the cloister, and still further south a chimney-stack, probably that of the fireplace in the warming-house.
At the south end of the range is a large doorway, at the dorter-level, evidently that leading to the rere-dorter [latrines], the ruins of which, with its connecting bridge, are also shown. Of the southern range of the cloister court, the eastern part of the inner or north wall is still standing and contains four small square-headed windows of red Chester stone, set high in the wall, above a string-course which probably marked the level of the cloister-roof. The rest of the range seems to have been rebuilt, but the south side of it is shown in
steep perspective in Buck’s view. The only other ancient portion of the existing buildings is the northern portion of the outer wall of an outbuilding on the west of the yard.
It appears to have projected westward from the original western range, as there is a return angle at the south end. It contains two pointed windows, probably of the fourteenth century, and blocked with ashlar. The rest of this range contains other pointed windows, but they appear not to be original and the walls themselves to be of post-suppression date.

Inscribed stones in vicarage wall at the Friary near Rhuddlan Church, taken by Leonard Monroe. Source: Coflein

At Abbey Farm today, the farmyard is thought to occupy the site of the cloister garth and part of the south cloister range, with the farmhouse occupying the site of the church, and the southern range perhaps incorporated into another farm building where blocked windows probably date to the 14th century.  Modern buildings have obscured what was probably the cloister, c.26-28m square.  Medieval building materials have been identified and in one of the farm buildings at the east of the farm complex, with some sepulchral slab fragments  incorporated into the walls, as well as a niche with a heavily eroded 14th century effigy still visible in it, shown below.  Clapham picks out details that were incorporated into the farm buildings that sit over the site, including bits of architectural and sepulchral masonry (tomb slabs).  Some of the tomb slabs are shown on this page, thanks to a digitization programme by Coflein, but with no attempt to put them in any particular order.  See captions for credits and links.

Built into the garden-wall, to the north of the yard, are portions of a moulded and cusped arch of early fourteenth-century date and probably part of a tomb recess. Of the various funeral monuments built into the walls of the buildings round the yard . . . .

Engraving incorporated into a wall.  Photograph taken by Leonard Monroe. Source: Coflein

On the east side of the yard: (a) effigy in high relief of a civilian in hood with flap, belt with skirt of gown tucked into it and holding in both hands a baton, or possibly a mace, probably fourteenth-century; (b) part of a coffin-lid with inscription.

On south side of yard: (a) incised slab with figure of an archbishop1 in mass-vestments with cross-staff and marginal inscription to William Freney, archbishop of Rages, c. 1290.
This slab has now been removed to the parish church; (b) slab with raguly cross in relief, head in a quatrefoil, sword at side and inscription to Robert, son of Robert de Bridelton, early fourteenth-century.

On west side of yard: coffin-lid with elaborately enriched cross on stem inscribed ‘Hie jacet [here lies] Snaisii,’ the rest of the inscription destroyed, thirteenth-century. The inventory of goods taken at the suppression mentions the quire with a table of alabaster on the altar and new stalls, two bells in the steeple and the kitchen.

There are references to the friary church having a particularly magnificent rood screen, which attracted pilgrims, about which more below.  In 1849, Samuel Lewis writes that “near it [the friary] is a fine spring, from which the priory derived water, conveyed to it by leaden pipes, that were taken up not many years ago: from this spring the town of Rhuddlan is now supplied during seasons of drought”

Unlike the better known Cistercian monasteries of north Wales, which were built in areas where the monks could worship in isolation, as separate from the world beyond the cloister as possible, the Dominicans always intended to be part of the local community and their friaries were built either on the edge of towns, like Rhuddlan, or within them, like Chester’s Dominican friary.  The friars’ lives were a balance between the communal living and worship that too place within their monastic premises and the preaching that they carried out in neighbouring communities.  They built their friaries in or near towns and the friars would have been familiar figures around the town of Rhuddlan where they would have mingling with townspeople and recruiting support in their missionary roles.

How the friary sustained itself

Inscribed stones in vicarage wall at the Friary near Rhuddlan Church, taken by Leonard Monroe. Source: Coflein

The friary appears to have been well provided for throughout the 13th century, and must have had significant status locally.  By 1283 there were 23 friars at Rhuddlan, a very healthy number.  In Cardiff and Haverfordwest, both Dominican friaries, numbers are recorded in 1285 as 30 and 39 respectively, but Rhuddlan was rather more remote.  In 1268 Rhuddlan Friary’s prior “Anian (Einion) of Nanneu” became Bishop of St Asaph, a significant honour.  It is unlikely that such an appointment would have been made from a minor establishment, a suggestion supported by other appointments to the position from the big Cistercian abbeys of Aberconwy and Valle Crucis in north Wales.  Records of payments to the monastery also give a sense of its importance, including a payment in 1281/1282 at the time of the birth of the princess Elizabeth at Rhuddlan, Edward and Eleanor’s 5th child, of 7s 8d to the friars of Rhuddlan and 1s 1d for the brethren of the hospital of Rhuddlan (about which more below); a bequest in the will of Bishop Gervase de Castro in 1370 of 60 shillings and another bequest, this time of 20 shillings, from Llewelyn ap Madoc, bishop of St Asaph, in 1373. 

The friary also appears to have been taking steps, beyond accepting alms and bequests, to care of itself.  Hinnebusch comments “At Rhuddlan in 1534, the prior leased several gardens and an apple orchard ; two years later a second apple orchard was leased. When the house was sup pressed, the sale of the effects of the priory included kine and pigs.”  Kine were a type of cattle.

Map showing Rhuddlan on the Welsh pilgrim routes, which link north and south Wales. See the following link for the full UK map. Source: The British Pilgrimage Trust

The excellently researched academic Monastic Wales Project website states that “Pilgrims flocked to visit the rood at Rhuddlan,” but does not expand on the comment.  The rood is the screen that divides the nave (where the public worship) from the chancel (the sanctuary at the eastern end of the church that was confined to the friars).  It is usually ornate, and made of open tracery in wood or stone (more likely wood at a Dominican friary like Rhuddlan, as it was much less expensive).  It was usually topped with a beam that held the rood (a depiction of the crucifixion), often accompanied by other key figures from the Christian story.  At Bangor, part of the rood survives, and symbols of the evangelists, the ox, eagle, lion and man, accompanied Christ.  Some rood screens attracted pilgrims either because of their particular design or because of associated miracles, In her PhD thesis, Lisa Garland says that many depictions of Christ became objects of pilgrimage, particularly in the 15th century, many gilded.  In north Wales, both Rhuddlan and Bangor had rood screens that attracted pilgrims, were celebrated in Welsh bardic poetry, and and were located on Welsh pilgrim routes, as shown on the map above right.  Pilgrims might be depended upon for offerings to a religious institution, helping to support them.  The rood at Rhuddlan was celebrated by the poet Gruffudd ab Ieuan ap Llywelyn Fychan, which would probably have been good PR for the friary.

The Impact of Rhuddlan Castle

Edward I saw himself as a devout Christian.  He had been on crusade, and he had made a vow to build a Cistercian monastery, which he founded in east Cheshire at Vale Royal in c.1270.  Edward I’s military activities often dragged monastic establishments in Wales into the conflict.  Being devout, or at least concerned about his status in the eyes of God, Edward compensated a number of monastic establishments in north Wales, both big and small, with significant sums of money and other gifts.  These included Basingwerk (near Flint Castle), Valle Crucis (near Llangollen), Aberconwy (near Conwy), and Cymer (near Dolgellau).

Inscribed tomb slab incorporated into the wall above a doorway. Source: Coflein

There is no surviving record of Rhuddlan Friary suffering damage to building or losing resources such as grain or livestock, but Llywelyn surrendered at Rhuddlan Castle in November 1277 and it seems improbable that the friary escaped entirely unscathed during the conflict.  The friars of Rhuddlan are credited with having organized the care of the wounded at that time, so were clearly in the thick of it.  Whether from guilt about harm inflicted or from appreciation of the Dominicans, Edward continued to finance the friary after Llywelyn’s death in 1282.  This is not particularly surprising, as both Edward’s father Henry III and Edward I himself were supporters of the mendicants in England, providing them with the much-valued stamp of royal approval.  In addition, Edward had a policy of compensating religious houses for damage inflicted during his conflicts with Llywelyn in Wales. By way of thanks for royal support, Rhuddlan Friary supplied Queen Eleanor with honey from its own hives. Queen Eleanor died in 1291, Rhuddlan Friary was a beneficiary from her will, which included a grant of 100 shillings each to the Dominican houses of Wales and England.  Rhuddlan Friary was also allocated 2 and 1/2 acres of land.

The community of Rhuddlan friary

The Danse Macabre or Dance of Death (1493) by Michael Wolgemut, from the Nuremberg Chronicle of Hartmann Schedel. Source: Wikipedia

Very little is known about the individuals who lived within the community of Rhuddlan Friary or any of the activities that were carried out, including their preaching.  Rhuddlan is considered to be a probable source of a version of the danse macabre (dance of death, also known as the dance of Paul’s). Several of the mendicant orders used the danse in their sermons, and the Dominicans were particularly enthusiastic about its terrifying imagery, often featuring death as a cadaver coming to claim the living, which was a warning of perils to come, and a reminder of the need to prepare one’s soul for the inevitable.  Here’s a flavour from a paper by Gray and Hale, translated from the Welsh, by poet Dafydd Ddu Hiraddug:

The corpse that was full of excess in a dirty closed place
As food for insects without worthy blessing …
The beautiful eyes now rounded holes
Full of maggots, in truth;
The comely mouth, which was so playful,
And was haughty, sad its form
A sardonic black hole, unlikely to be loved,
Black sorrowful nape, pathetic loneliness:
And the white teeth like old pegs
Dirty grey putrid bones
The long arms and the beautiful legs
Are sticks with gristle: offensive and putrid!

Enough to put the fear of God into anyone.

Only one of the community members is known for certain, and that is because he achieved prominence outside the friary’s walls as Bishop of St Asaph.  I have included his biographical details below because it is some indication of the level of seniority that the friary could attract.

Effigy of Anian in St Asaph Cathedral. Source: Wikipedia

Anian, the Rhuddlan prior who  became Bishop of St Asaph in 1268, was often a chosen intermediary between Llywelyn ap Gruffudd and both Henry III and Edward I, but he became alienated from Llywelyn as the relationship between the prince and Edward I deteriorated.  Towards the end of 1273 Anian he wrote to Pope Gregory X to make charges against the prince.  This put him in confict with the Cistercian order in Wales, whose abbots in turn wrote to the pope, on 7 March 1274 in defence of Llywelyn. His loyalties remained with the king and he continued to represent Edward’s interests against Llywelyn.  When Edward was defeated in 1277, Anian’s diocese, St Asaph passed to the control of the English Crown.  In 1281 Anian was given support from Edward in his bid to the papacy to move bishopric from St Asaph to the new royal castle and its accompanying town at Rhuddlan, a far higher status location, but this came to nothing.   During the resumption of hostilities between Wales and England in 1282, the cathedral of St Asaph was burned, infuriating Anian, who refused to lend the king further support and excommunicated the soldiers who attacked the cathedral.  The king seized his goods and denied him the diocese.  The rift was repaired in 1284 with the intercession of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Pecham.  Anian was granted the advowson (vacant ecclesiastical appointment) of Rhuddlan in return for a good will gesture of 500 marks.  Throughout this period he fell out with many other secular and religious dignitaries.  He died on 5th February 1293.

In 1284 some indication of the status of the friary is provided by the appointment of the prior of Rhuddlan by Archbishop Pecham to the commission of inquiry tasked with assessing the need for rebuilding and repair of churches damaged during the Edwardian wars in Wales.  This was not Anian, who was by now the bishop of St Asaph, but I have not yet tracked down his name.

St Mary’s Church on the River Clwyd, Rhuddlan, which now houses the tomb of William de Freney.  Edward I’s Rhuddlan Castle is shown in the bacground.  Source: photograph by Mike Searle on Geograph.

There would have been  cemetery at Rhuddlan Friary, where the inmates would have been buried.  There are various pieces of tombstone incorporated into stone walls at Rhuddlan, re-used as building materials.  Only one of the burials has been identified for sure, dating to c.1290: when William de Freney, archbishop of Edessa (Upper Mesopotamia), was buried at Rhuddlan.  His tomb was saved because it was removed to St Mary’s Church in the town, where it remains.  If this was done at the dissolution it is something of a puzzle why none of the other tombs were moved at the same time.  William de Freney was a Dominican monk, but although he was buried at Rhuddlan, his career unfolded far from north Wales, and although it is possible that he ended his days at the friary it is by no means certain.  He was a diplomat and skilled orator and linguist.  It is possible that when Edward went on crusade in 1270, de Freney went with him, but his movements are unclear until his death at Rhuddlan.  Edward I spent a lot of time in the 1270s and 1280s in Rhuddlan, and the presence of de Freney at Rhuddlan was almost certainly connected with Edward’s own movements.  The tomb slab is inscribed with a legend in Norman French:PRIEZ PVR LALME FRERE WILLIAM DE FRENEY ERCHEVESHE DE RAGES (Pray for the soul of Brother William de Freney Archbishop of Rages).  The name Rages appears to have been identified with Edessa.

The friary and the town

There are no records about interactions between the friary and the town, although they must have been frequent and various.  The friars must have been impacted just as much as the townspeople by the famine and then the plague, both of which swept through England and Wales in the first half of the 14th century.

Rhuddlan Castle. Source: Mike Searle, Geograph

Where Edward built castles in Wales, he changed the entire character of each of those areas. Oddly, the friary was not included in the new borough established by Edward in 1278, which went against usual practice.  I have read nothing to explain this.  Perhaps the exclusion was at the request of the friary itself, to maintain its independence, or for other reasons of its own.  The town that the friars attended before the arrival of Edward I in 1277 was a very different place from the one that Edward built for English immigrants, a Gascon-inspired planned town called a bastide, and the friary presumably extended its reach to the English newcomers, although it is very probable that the majority of the Dominican friars were in fact Welsh.  This could of course have changed over the decades as the town changed and new members were accepted in to the friary.

When Edward’s engineers and labourers had finished straightening out and deepening 2 miles of the River Clwyd to enable seagoing ships to reach the castle, the friars may have benefitted.  As soldiers and sailors arrived by ship, the friars would certainly have had new audiences for their preaching might, which might very well have been welcome as they contemplated war with Llywelyn, the privations of the terrain and the weather and their own mortality.

Unsurprisingly, given the order’s pastoral mission, during the Black Death of the 14th century, the order was very nearly wiped out as the friars throughout Europe mixed with their communities, attempting to bring support, and placing themselves at the highest possible risk.  Figures are highly elusive for Wales, but one estimate suggests that by the end of the 14th century the population of Wales had been reduced from a total of around 300,000 to under 200,000, a reduction of some 100,000 people. Although an earlier famine had some part to play in that figure, successive resurgences of the plague were the main cause.  Most of these would have been in the minority of lowland urban centres like Rhuddlan, rather than in the upland areas where the population was more dispersed, but its impact was still ferocious.

It is not known exactly how the Black Death impacted Rhuddlan, but enough of the population survived to enable both town and friary to survive. Under 100 years later, the senior occupants of the burgess and their land are recorded in a document dated 1428.  Most of the survivors noted are English names, probably those descended from Edward I’s settlers.  As well as recording that a community of burgesses had formed a landholding corporation, and that St Mary’s itself had land holdings.  No mention is made of the friary, but this was excluded from Edward’s new borough.

A public footpath connects the friary to the still-surviving motte of the 1073 Twthill motte-and-bailey castle, and Edward I’s 1277 stone castle beyond.   This part of the valley must have been quite a sight in the 13th and 14th centuries, with the canalized river running at the foot of friary and the cliff below both castles, new and old, with ships moored against the river.

The dissolution

The opening page of the Valor Ecclesiasticus, showing Henry VIII presiding over the valuation of the religious houses prior to their dissolution. Source: Wikipedia

The friary was dissolved in 1538, when six friars signed the Act of Surrender.  The surviving details of the abbey, as meagre as they are, have been discussed above.  The process of dividing the assets for sequestration and sale was overseen by Richard Ingworth, Bishop of Dover, who was ironically Dominican.  He recorded that he sold “cows and pigs for 22./-; paid for servants, and carried off a little chalice.”  The chalice would have contributed to the treasure trove being amalgamated from the dissolution by Henry VIII.  The premises additional to the church and cemetery are recorded at that time as a hall with three chambers, two other chambers, a kitchen and a stable.
——–

A monastic hospital?

Rhuddlan Castle in 1749 by John Boydell. Source: National Library of Wales via Wikipedia

There is considerable confusion about the presence of a hospital during the 13th century, when the friary was founded.  There are two references to it in documentation associated with Edward I, but it is by no means certain that it belonged to the Dominican friary.

In 1848 Harry Longueville Jones, in the second part of his piece on Rhuddlan Priory, gives a description of the hospital’s location, although he still gives no further idea of why he thought that a hospital was located here:  “The Hospital stood about a quarter of a mile to the NE of the priory on the southern side of the road leading to Diserth;  an old building, although perhaps not original, was standing here until within a few years.  It is now replaced by an ordinary cottage, in which all features of antiquity are disappeared.  Leaden pipes and conduits, leading from the hospital to the priory, have been dug up in the fields near that latter building” (p.48),  He goes on to suggest that it was “not improbable” that it could have been a “Lazarhouse” (a hospice for lepers), but this seems simply to be speculation.

Effigy in a wall at Abbey Farm. Source: Jones 1847

One of Edward I’s edicts states that the burial ground at the church of Rhuddlan had become inadequate, and that another site near the hospital should therefore be made available, suggesting at the very least that a hospital was in the vicinity.  One possibility is that references to a hospital refer not to a permanent facility, but to the work that the Dominicans are recorded as having carried out during the 1277 war, tending the wounded on a temporary basis.  The friars must have been involved again in Dafydd’s rebellion of 1282, and there is reference to money being granted to a hospital in the same listing where a much larger sum was also granted to the priory.  The friars were probably spared the violence in the national uprising led by Madog ap Llywelyn (in the north) and Morgan ap Marededd (in the south) in 1294-5 when English troops were garrisoned at Rhuddlan, but the castle was not one of those that was attacked by the rebels.

One idea, repeated by Harry Longueville Jones in July 1847, is that there might have been a Templar hospital at the site, perhaps adopted by the Dominicans after the closure of the Templar order.  A piece of data discussed in this context is the presence of a farmhouse near the friary that was called Spittal or Ysbythy, although the word Ysbyty (hospital) can simply identify land that belonged to the Knights Hospitallers or Templars, and does not always indicate the presence of an actual hospital. 

Excavations carried out to the east of the castle in 1978 as well as beyond Edward’s borough defences found no traces of a hospital, and so far remains have not showed up on aerial photographs.   It was presumably completely robbed out for building materials. 


Final Comments

It is easy to see why the mendicants, who combined secluded worship and pious austerity with community involvement the religious education and salvation of the poor would be attractive to the wealthy, their offering far more visible and easier to relate to than the older, more remote orders.

The remnant of a lovely tomb slab at the Abbey Farm (also shown above in black and white). Source: Geograph, by Mike Searle

The stories of Rhuddlan and former Rhuddlan friar Anian, who became Bishop of St Asaph, show how religion and politics are inevitably intertwined.  The Dominicans had no way of Knowing, when they established their new friary in Rhuddlan, that Edward I would follow a decade later, and the new royal castle and town would have changed the entire profile of the area, introducing not only a garrison but English settlers, and drawing a target on the town for the wars of 1277 and 1282, although it appears to have escaped attack in the uprising of 1294.  This would have raised the importance of the Dominican friars as a source of Christian values and salvation within a war zone, but in times of peace, a perhaps even more important role was attempting to help cement the different elements of the royal town and the local Welsh interests.

At the moment, there are many more questions than answers about the Rhuddlan Friary, but answers may lie under the surface.  Further excavations around Rhuddlan may clarify the remains of the friary, help to date of some of the fortifications, and clarify what other buildings may have existed during the Medieval period.

The surrounding former abbey precinct that once extended across the surrounding fields has suffered the same indignity as Valle Crucis Abby in Llangollen, being used a caravan and chalet park.  The friars would probably have been turning in their graves, had their graves survived.

Rhuddlan Abbey Farm. Over the lintel of the blue door on the far left the above tomb slab has been incorporated into the stonework of the wall.  Source: Geograph, by Mike Searle

There are no visitor details on this post, because the remains of the friary are on private land, and are not open to the general public, so I was unable to visit.  There is a footpath that runs around the outside of the farm. 

I have not yet visited Rhuddlan for well over a decade, and am looking forward to a visit to the castles.  The friary is a real insight into how much one can learn from published and online resources without visiting the site.  A big hats-off to those early illustrators and writers who have captured so much that later writers have used to recreate past buildings and landscapes.  I wrote this entire piece without leaving my house, and that’s a massive reflection on how much work others have done.


Sources

The sources that I have used are listed below.  For a full bibliography for Rhuddlan Friary, see the Monastic Wales Project website at
https://www.monasticwales.org/browsedb.php?func=showsite&siteID=61

Books and papers

Attwater, D. 1949.  The Black Friars in Wales.  Blackfriars, Vol. 30, No. 354 (September 1949), p.421-424 https://www.jstor.org/stable/43812856

Burton, J. 1994. Monastic and Religious Orders in Britain, 1000-1300. Cambridge Medieval Textbooks. Cambridge University Press

Clapham, A. W. 1927.  The architectural remains of the mendicant orders in Wales. Archaeological Journal, 84 (1927), p.96-7
https://archaeologydataservice.ac.uk/archives/view/archjournal/contents.cfm?vol=84&CFID=3f7f06e0-94cc-44a1-8b8d-c7796029e9c7&CFTOKEN=0

Clwyd Powys Archaeological Trust 2014.  Rhuddlan.  Historic Settlement Survey – Denbighshire – 2014. CPAT
https://cpat.org.uk/ycom/denbigh/rhuddlan.pdf

Cule, J. 1977. Early hospital development in Wales.  National Library of Wales journal. 1977, Winter Volume XX/2.
“Extracted onto the pages of GENUKI with the kind permission of the National Library of Wales. This is a complete extract of this article (Gareth Hicks May 2003):”
https://www.genuki.org.uk/big/wal/Archives/NLWjournals/EarlyHospitals.

Davies, J. 2007 (3rd edition).  A History of Wales.  Penguin.

Garland, L.M.2005.  Aspects of Welsh Saints’ Cults and Pilgrimage c.1066-1530.  Unpublished PhD Thesis, Kings College London
https://kclpure.kcl.ac.uk/portal/files/2935809/420753.pdf

Giraud, E.J.  and Linde, J.C. 2021.  A Companion to the English Dominican Province: From Its Beginnings to the Reformation.  Brill
Sample:  https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=8BkgEAAAQBAJ&printsec=frontcover&source=gbs_atb#v=onepage&q&f=false

Gray, M. and Hale, D. 2021. Dancing and Dicing with Death: literary evidence for some lost wall paintings in Wales. Ancient Monuments Society Transactions Volume 65 (2021), p.7-19

Greene, J.P. 1992. Medieval Monasteries. Leicester University Press

Gumbley, W. 1915. The Dominican Priory of Rhuddlan. Flintshire Historical Publications 5 (1915), p.34-35
https://journals.library.wales/view/1256711/1257147/46#?xywh=-936%2C-227%2C4106%2C4136

Gumbley, W. 1915. The Dominican Bishops of St Asaph. Flintshire Historical Publications 5 (1915), p.31-33
https://journals.library.wales/view/1256711/1257147/46#?xywh=-936%2C-227%2C4106%2C4136

Gumbley, W. 1915. The Dominican Friary of Rhuddlan. Flintshire Historical Publications 5 (1915), p.43-44
https://journals.library.wales/view/1256711/1257147/46#?xywh=-936%2C-227%2C4106%2C4136

Hayman, R. 2018. Rood Screens. Shire Library

Hinnebusch, W.A. 1944.  The Domestic Economy of the Early English Dominicans.  The Catholic Historical Review , Oct., 1944, Vol. 30, No. 3 (Oct., 1944), p. 247-270

Jackson, P. 2005. Freney, William (fl. 1263–1286). Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (Online [2014] ed.). Oxford University Press.
https://www.oxforddnb.com/view/10.1093/ref:odnb/9780198614128.001.0001/odnb-9780198614128-e-92436;jsessionid=11E5391F2DD975CD06FDDFAA92E58B14

Jones, H.L. 1847.  Priory of Dominican Friars, Rhuddlan, Flintshire. Archaeologia Cambrensis, July 1847, p.250-259
https://journals.library.wales/browse/2919943

Jones, H.L. 1848.  Rhuddlan Priory, No.II.  Archaeologia Cambrensis, January 1848, p.46-49
https://journals.library.wales/browse/2919943

Lewis, B.J. Gray, M., Jones, D.C. and Morgan, D.D. 2022.  A History of Christianity in Wales.  University of Wales Press

Lloyd, J.E. 1959.  Anian II (died 1293), bishop of St Asaph.  Dictionary of Welsh Biography.

Morris, M. 2008.  A Great and Terrible King.  Edward I and the Forging of Britain.  Penguin.

Platt, C. 1995 (2nd edition).  The Medieval Abbeys and Priories of Medieval England.  Chancellor Press

Taylor, A. 2004.  Rhuddlan Castle (abridged from a text by Arnold Taylor). Cadw

Walker, D. 1990.  Medieval Wales.  Cambridge University Press

Websites

Abbey Farm Caravan and Camping Park
History
https://abbeyfarmrhuddlan.co.uk/portfolio-item/history/#top

Based In Churton
Valle Crucis abbey (ongoing series of posts about the abbey). By Andie Byrnes
https://basedinchurton.co.uk/category/valley-crucis-abbey/

British History Online
A Topographical Dictionary of Wales. Originally published by S Lewis, London, 1849.
https://www.british-history.ac.uk/topographical-dict/wales/pp345-356

Cadw
Rhuddlan Castle
https://cadw.gov.wales/visit/places-to-visit/rhuddlan-castle
Rhuddlan, Norman Borough
https://coflein.gov.uk/en/site/303586

Coflein
Rhuddlan Friary (Dominican); Abbey Farm
https://coflein.gov.uk/en/site/157155/

Monastic Wales
Rhuddlan Friary
https://www.monasticwales.org/site/61

 

An impressive exhibit of decorated Roman tombstones in Chester’s Grosvenor Museum

Introduction

Chester’s role as an important Roman military headquarters surrounded by a growing settlement, known as Deva, is very well understood, but there is not a great deal to see on the ground.  This means that Chester’s Roman legacy is largely preserved in excavated archaeological remains, some of which are on display in local museum spaces.  There is a small gallery of Roman objects in the Grosvenor Museum in Chester showing a wide variety of artefact types, from elite pottery to drainage pipes, but to display some of the large number of Chester tombstones, a special exhibition space was was created for them in a dedicated room in the museum, showing them off to great effect.

The display opens with a Roman style couch under a canopy, setting the scene for a walk down a path between the tombstones, emulating one of the Roman roads heading out of Deva.  The walls behind the tombstones capture the sense of the surrounding landscape, part military installation, part civilian settlement, and part rural vistas.  The tombstones are organized either side of the “road,” each one facing out towards the visitor.  Low level information boards, great for wheelchair users and children, show useful illustrations of key examples, together with translations of the texts.

In the discussion of tombstones below, each example is accompanied by an RIB (Roman Inscriptions of Britain) number.  Each inscription in Britain has been given a unique number.  When I was at university studying the Antonine Wall, the Roman Inscriptions In Britain were recorded in print, but this was obviously the sort of content that was best suited to a database, and one of the best online resources for Roman Britain is Roman Inscriptions in Britain online.  As a resource it has been developed and expanded, and the user interface is excellent.  If you want to know more about any of the tomb stones mentioned below, this is a great place to start, with translations, illustrations and further references all available.

Burials and memorials

Altar RIB 3149, found at the Chester amphitheatre

The Romans disposed of their dead in a variety of ways that included both inhumation (deposition in the ground) and cremation.  Wealthier Roman inhumation burials in Britain were traditionally accompanied by this sort of memorial, and might include tomb stones and commemorative slabs.  In terms of how they were used, tombstones are much like the grave stones and chest-like tombs found in Christian churchyard cemeteries today, but dedicated to different deities and with far more elaborate scenes depicting the owners of the graves engaged in activities that showed them in activities that they enjoyed, or which highlighted particular qualities.

Collectively, these memorials are a useful source of information about Roman life and death in Britain, but individual memorials also have the potential to tell their own stories about the owners, the way in which the owners wanted to be remembered and the ideas with which they wanted to be associated.  Although the Grosvenor Museum’s display primarily features tombstones, there are some altars too.  Altars could be found in similar contexts, but might also be found in homes, public buildings and at religious sites.  The above example from the museum’s exhibit, RIB 3149, was found in a room behind the amphitheatre arena’s wall during excavations in 1966, and reads, in translation, “To the goddess Nemesis, (from) Sextius Marcianus, centurion, in consequence of a vision.”

Roman cemeteries

Roman Chester with modern roads superimposed (click to enlarge). Source: British History Online

The area around the fortress was under military control and the location of the cemeteries was decided by the Praefectus castorum (camp prefect), who decided where civilian quarters and various facilities were to be located.  Roman law was very strict on the matter of refusing burial with in urban and residential areas.  Roman cemeteries were built outside towns and cities, and depending on the size of the urban centre there might be a number of them.  The earliest tombstones and altars were erected along the sides of roads, but more formal cemeteries would have been established over time.   These will have been destroyed as Chester spread out in all directions during subsequent centuries.  Most of the stones in the museum, sculpted or inscribed, or both, had therefore originally come from one or more Roman cemeteries, and were probably dumped somewhere together to make space for urban spread.

Plan of part of the Infirmary Field excavation. Source: Chester ShoutWiki

One cemetery was revealed during rescue excavations carried out between 1912 and 1917 by Professor Robert Newstead.  It was located at Infirmary Field to the west of the fortress, the site of a planned new wing for Chester Royal Infirmary.  The presence of a possible cemetery  had been known since the mid 19th century due to the discovery of burials adjacent to the Infirmary in 1858 and 1863.  During his excavations Newstead found that the cemetery contained men, women and children who, judging from the objects in graves, were both military and civilian.   

The tombstones in the walls

Section of the Chester City walls thought to be Roman, sitting on bedrock above the canal.

The high sandstone walls that surround the city of Chester were originally established in the Roman period, but were built upon in subsequent periods to repair damage and to raise the overall height of the walls.   There are only a few places where Roman phases can be clearly identified with confidence, such as that shown on the right.  The repair of the walls over time incorporated both newly quarried stone, and whatever stone was lying around from earlier collapses.

Although tombstones and altars are known from various locations around Chester, most of the Chester tomb stones in the Grosvenor display are from a cache found incorporated into the Chester city walls, completely divorced from their original funerary context, but would once have come from one or more cemeteries. The re-use of ancient building materials is common the world over.  In ancient Egypt, the Pharaoh Horemheb re-used painted blocks from palace buildings of the heretic Pharaoh Akhenaten as rubble fill to create the thick walls of his monumental gateway at the temple of Karnak on the Nile.   In both the Chester and Karnak cases, these items used as building materials have enormous historical value to us today as information about the past, but were simply unwanted rubbish when they were employed as building materials.

Plate A from Cox’s publication of his excavations in 1891

In 1883 the Chester City Surveyor Mr Matthew Jones was overseeing repairs to a section of the lower courses of stonework in the walls and the fill behind them near to Morgan’s Mount.  As they prepared the site for the work he realized that he was looking at pieces of Roman stonework and that one was clearly part of a tomb stone, and he retrieved what he could see.  Although no further investigations were carried out in1883, further repair work was required in 1887 between Northgate and the King Charles Tower, this time rather more extensive, and more Roman funerary pieces were found.  Again, they had been used to repair the lower courses of the wall.  So many were found this time that it was decided to extend the work and locate more of Chester’s Roman heritage.  The Chester Archaeological Society, founded in 1849 (and still going strong today), was brought in to supervise the investigation of the wall to the west of the Northgate between 1890 and 1892.  Taking all the finds from 1883, 1887 and the 1890-92 excavations, more than 150 stones were found, of which the Grosvenor exhibit is a tiny sample showing some of the best of the examples.

Key features of tombstones

Tombstone of Flavius Callimorphus and Serapion. RIB 558

The earliest tombstones and altars known from Chester date to the 1st century.  For example, the tombstone of Flavius Callimorphus showing him with his son or nephew Serapion (aged 42 and 3 ½ years old respectively) was discovered at the Roodee in 1874, in situ over a grave, and was erected by Flavius’s brother Thesaeus (RIB 558).  These are Greek names which may indicate that they were freedman and/or traders who had settled in Chester.  Flavius is shown reclining on a funeral couch, and the elaborate nature of the decoration indicates that this was a wealthy family.  Within the grave were two skeletons accompanied by a gold ring and a coin of the emperor Domition, dating to the latter half of the 1st Century A.D.  Callimorphus and Serapion, the former lying on a couch with the latter in his arms, shown in the photograph to the left.  On a small table in the foreground is a bird, which is a metaphor for the journey into the afterlife.  Next to the table is an amphora that may or may not suggest that Callimorphus was an importer of wine.  Although it is speculation that he was a wine importer, the family names indicate that they were of eastern Mediterranean origin, where Greek was preferred to Latin, and could well have been traders who settled locally.  The name Serapion is of particular interest, as it refers to the god Serapis, who was venerated during the Ptolemaic (Greek) and subsequent Roman occupation of ancient Egypt.

Altar from Watergate Street. RIB 445. Source: British Museum BM 1836,0805.1.

Amongst other Roman finds, a 2nd Century A.D. stone altar was found in lower Watergate Street when Georgian terraces were built in 1778.  It was dedicated to Fortuna Redux (Fortune, who brings travellers home safely, including soldiers and traders) and gods of healing and health Aesculapius and Salus.  It was raised by freedmen and slaves of a Roman imperial legate, perhaps a provincial governor, who has the longest recorded name in Roman Britain:  Titus Pomponius Mamilianus Rufus Antistianus Funisulanus Vettonianus.  This is the only example shown here not on display in the Grosvenor Museum. It is now in the British Museum (BM 1836,0805.1; RIB 445)

Nearly all the memorials on display in the Grosvenor are made of red sandstone.  The quality of the stone chosen was important, both for engraving scenes and text, and for durability.  The raw material selected was not the most locally available sandstone, but according to Wilding was sourced some 8 miles away where better quality red sandstone was available.

The tombstone of Caecilius Avitus, RIB 492. On the left is the original as it was found. On the right is the replica with its bright paint, both on display in the museum.

The stones would originally have been brightly painted, which is a strange thought.  A cemetery would have been a colourful place, new memorials brighter than older ones, creating a dazzling visual spectacle.  At the entrance to the Grosvenor Museum exhibit there is a facsimile of one of the Chester grave stones showing how it might have looked in full colour, and when compared with the original unpainted version that is also on display, it is a completely different entity.  It shows an optio (junior officer who was an accountant-adminstrator, second in command to a centurion) called Caecilius Avitus, wearing a cloak, a staff of office, a legionary sword and  a writing tablet (RIB 492).  It is like seeing the Lady Chapel in Chester Cathedral, painted to show how it would have looked in the Medieval period, or the glorious 17th century decoration of Rug Chapel at Corwen, near Llangollen, both of which are similar eye-openers, revising how we look at past objects and architecture.  To modern eyes, so accustomed to seeing the past in subtle monochrome, the bright paintwork of Caecilius’s tombstone is almost shocking, but Roman life was anything but dull, either at work or at play, and the colours of the stones reflected this multi-hued existence.

Between the moment of death and the burial itself there were ceremonies, rituals and processions that marked the transition from this world to the next.  For the very rich, this could be ostentatious and elaborate, involving music and theatrical performances, but for the poor it was a much more mundane affair.  Often a Roman might provide for their funeral in his or her will, but if not the responsibility fell to the person who inherited the rest of the property of the deceased.  When the deceased was buried, graves could be visited by the living, and at the end of February during the Feralia festival offerings were made to dead ancestors at their graves.

Tombstone of Curatia Dinysia. RIB 562, described below

Popular themes on the Chester tombstones are dedications to certain deities, symbolism surrounding the afterlife and depictions of the deceased lying along a banqueting couch.  Reclining on a couch was a popular eating position used by wealthy Romans, and the couch represents a banquet in the afterlife, indicating eternal wellbeing.  Some objects in scenes may hint at the profession of the deceased.  Where an inscription is included, in Latin, the names can give an indication of the origins of the individual.

Text on tombstones is always highly abbreviated, which would not have been a problem for literate contemporaries (or for researchers today) because the abbreviations were standardized and the texts were highly formulaic.  Many of the inscriptions begin DM, standing for Dis Manibus (To the spirits of the departed), and finish HFC, standing for Heres Faciendum Curavit (the heir had the stone made). The heir often adds his or her name and relationship to the deceased.  Between these topping and tailing devices there may be additional information about who died including, for example, the name of the deceased, the age at which they died, who erected the stone in their honour, the place from which the person originated, the role that the person performed, a legion or auxiliary unit in which a soldier served and the number of years for which he served.

The Grosvenor Museum tombstones

Showing some of these features is a woman reclining on a couch, framed within two columns and an arch. She is shown in the photograph immediately above.  Her name is Curatia Dinysia (perhaps a mason’s error for the name Dionysia), holding a drinking cup, with a three-legged table in the foreground (RIB 562).  Sadly the head and face are damaged. She sits between two garlands or swags of ivy leaves, sacred to the deity Bacchus, each of which supports a dove, signifying the release of the soul.  Above this scene, incorporated into the architecture of the arch, are two tritons (half men, half fish, like male mermaids, but sometimes shown with horse forelegs) blowing trumpets, representing the journey to the Isles of the Blessed where Bacchus resided.  The drinking cup, probably filled with wine, may also reference Bacchus.  As with Calimporphus and Serapion, the name Dinysia/Dionysia is  thought to be Greek.   The inscription reads, in translation, “To the spirits of the departed, Curatia Dinysia lived 40 years; her heir had this erected.”

The illustration on the right is by Dai Owen (Grosvenor Museum 2010)

Another woman is shown on a very worn tombstone, also cleverly recreated by illustrator Dai Owen (RIB 568).  The woman’s name is damaged, but ends “-mina”  She reclines on the banqueting couch with the familiar three-legged table in the foreground, a drinking cup in hand and a ring on the little finger of her left hand.  Most remarkably, behind her, on the the high-backed couch, is a giant sea shell flanked by dolphins, again a reference to her journey to the Isles of the Blessed.  Only part of the inscription has survived, with the DM of Dis Manibus (to the spirits of the departed) legend just beneath the three-legged table, and the end of the lady’s name just below that at far right.

Tombstones featuring women are usually found in this sort of military context, where many were wives, (more rarely mothers or daughters) of soldiers, and could communicate their own status alongside their husband’s, making statements about their own identity.  It is good to have these as they are a distinct minority. Allason-Jones, for example, estimates that inscriptions dedicated to women make up only around 10% of the total inscriptions found in Roman Britain.  These represent only the middle and upper echelons of those living in Roman areas.  As with low status men, those women who could not afford any form of memorial have been lost.

The auxiliary cavalryman (equitis) Aurelius Lucius, who has a Latin name, but was probably not of pure Roman origins is an interesting case (RIB 552).  Aurelius is shown with a moustache, beard and big hair.  Again, he is reclining on a couch, and like Curatia Dionysia, he holds a drinking cup in one hand, whilst in the other he holds a scroll of paper that represents his will.  Behind his legs are his plumed helmet and the top of his sword, and in the foreground is a small three-legged table and a boy holding a detached head.  Auxiliaries were often recruited from conquered lands and were not Roman citizens.  After 25 years in service they could apply for Roman citizenship. The uncharacteristic hair and the severed head, perhaps a war trophy, may refer to a background from one of these conquered regions, but Aurelius also chose to depict himself in a traditional Roman pose, with a traditional Latin inscription.  Perhaps he had become a citizen, incorporating his career as a foreign cavalryman but opting for a Roman afterlife.

One of the most remarkable of the Grosvenor’s tombstones is this rider on a horse carrying a flying standard.  It is thought to represent a a Sarmatian from an area now occupied by southern Ukraine and northern Romania.  The Sarmatians were nomadic hunters and pastoralists, excellent horse breeders and riders and formidable warriors.  No inscription survives, but he was almost certainly an auxiliary, as the Sarmatians were conquered in AD 175, and some are known to have been present in Britain.  Although none are known from Chester, there were Sarmatians in a regiment deployed at Ribchester in Lancashire, and it is not unlikely that a detachment of that regiment was present in Chester when this individual died.  The tall helmet is distinctive, and he holds a standard which he holds in both hands.  If he was indeed Sarmatian, this would have been topped with a fearsome dragon’s head with brightly coloured fabric flying to its rear.  When wind ran through the dragon’s jaws at speed, it made a terrifying noise to put fear into the hearts of the enemy.  His sword is in its scabbard at his side.

Another cavalryman is depicted on a scene that has lost its inscription, other than the letters DM (Dis Manibus) (RIB 550).  It is very worn, and the top of the head and the hand (and whatever it is holding) are missing but the scene is full of energy.  The horse, with its bridle and a blanket serving as a saddle clearly visible, is galloping with its mane blown back, and the rider’s legs hold tightly to its flanks.  The rider’s right arm is raised above his head, probably holding a spear, whilst his left hand, hidden from view, holds the rein or the bridle.  Trodden beneath the hooves of the horse is a naked victim who lies gripping a six-sided shield that has demonstrably failed to protect him.

Marcus Aurelius Nepos and his wife. RIB 491

A rather more domestic scene is provided by Marcus Aurelius Nepos and his wife.  The stone is right at the rear of the exhibit, and the inscription is difficult to see (it was not particularly clearly engraved in the first place) and is confined to the left, beneath the figure of Marcus Aurelius, centurion of the XXth Legion Valera Victrix, who died aged 50 years old.  There is a space beneath the figure of his wife for an inscription, but for reasons unknown this was never added.  As it was she who commissioned the stone, she was clearly still alive when the carving was made and may have left the space for an inscription of her own when she herself died, but perhaps she died elsewhere.  Marcus Aurelius is bearded, carrying a staff and has a prominent belt, a cloak over his shoulders with a small brooch attached.  His wife is holding a cup, and lefts the hem of her dress with one hand to reveal the skirt beneath.  Not visible in the photograph is an engraving on the side that shows a mason’s hammer and set square and the words SVB ASCIA D[edicatum], meaning “dedicated under the axe,” perhaps a formula to deter vandals. The tombstone dates to the 3rd century AD.

RIB 560. Tombstone of the child slaves Atilianus, Antiatilianus and Protus

The tombstones with elaborate or contained scenes are plentiful, but are still a minority in the context of British funerary memorials, representing only the most wealthy purchasers. Some tombstones merely showed a little decorative work to accompany the text.  This example (RIB 560), although still very fine, was provided with ornamental features but no elaborate scene.  It was dedicated by a master to three young slaves.  It reads, in translation, “To the spirits of the departed, Atilianus and Antiatilianus, 10 years old; and Protus, 12 years old.  Pompeius Optatus their master had this made.”  It is possible that the 10 year olds were twins. Although the thought of slavery always sits uncomfortably in today’s world, it should not be forgotten that in a period when slavery was the norm, it was by no means uncommon for masters and slaves to develop relationships of mutual affection and respect.  Perhaps that is what we are seeing here.

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Final Comments

Architectural detail showing a male gorgon, with four snakes emanating from each side of his head.

The tombstones described above represent only a a small sample of the total number of engraved stones preserved from Chester.  Of those that were not tombstones, some were pieces of altars and others were fragments of bigger pieces of architecture, many of which also came out the 19th century excavations in the Chester walls, some showing Roman deities.  They are out of the scope of this post but, do watch out for those too in the display if you visit the museum.

The tombstones are particularly evocative and hopefully the small sample provided here gives an idea of what sort of themes were common, and how people like to have themselves depicted.  Death in the Roman empire was an integral part of a soldier’s life, and in the military life of Chester, death had its own role and its own places, with its own objects and iconography.  Most of the individuals represented here were of relatively high status, except for the slaves of their master Pompeius Optatus, but they came from a variety of backgrounds, all either stationed here or drawn here for commercial reasons by the military stronghold, and it is good to be able to see some of the variety that made up Deva society.

19th century illustrations from Chester Archaeological Society reports of the tombstones and other engraved stones excavated from the walls (click image to enlarge). Sources, left to right: de Gray Birch 1887, Watkin 1887, de Gray Birch 1888, Jones 1887, all in the Journal of the Chester Archaeological Society volume 2 (references below).

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For those who are interested in seeing something of Rome under foot in Chester, to supplement what can be found in museums, there are a number of guided tours available (some lead by Roman Centurions!).  If you prefer a self-guided tour, the Royal Geographic Society’s “Discovering Britain” website provides one, which can be downloaded as a a PDF or as an app for your mobile device: https://www.discoveringbritain.org/activities/north-west-england/trails/chester-trail.html.


Sources:

Those that were of particular use for this post are shown in bold

Books and papers

Allason-Jones, L. 2012.  Chapter 34, Women in Roman Britain. In (eds.) James, S.L. and Dillon, S. A Companion to Women in the Ancient World. Wiley

Bell, C.E. 2020. Investigating the Autonomy of Power: Epigraphy of Women in Roman Britain. Dissertation Submitted for the Master’s Degree in Archaeology, University of Liverpool
https://www.academia.edu/44879704/Investigating_the_Autonomy_of_Power_Epigraphy_of_Women_in_Roman_Britain

Brock, E. P Loftus. 1888) The age of the walls of Chester, with references to recent discussions; The discussion on the above paper; Mr Brock’s reply to the various speakers. Journal of the Chester Archaeological Society 2. Vol 2, p. 40-97.
https://archaeologydataservice.ac.uk/archiveDS/archiveDownload?t=arch-2910-1/dissemination/pdf/JCAS_ns_002/JCAS_ns_002_040-097.pdf

Cox, E.W. 1891. Notes on the sculptures of the Roman monuments recently found in Chester. The Historic Society of Lancashire and Cheshire, vols.43044, 1891-92, p.91-102

Eckardt, H. 2014. Objects and Identities. Roman Britain and the North-Western Provinces.  Oxford University Press

de Gray Birch, W. 1888. Notes on a sculptured stone recently found in the North Wall of the city of Chester. Journal of the Chester Archaeological Society 2. Vol 2, p. 25-39.
https://archaeologydataservice.ac.uk/archiveDS/archiveDownload?t=arch-2910-1/dissemination/pdf/JCAS_ns_002/JCAS_ns_002_025-039.pdf

de Grey Birch, W. 1888. The inscribed Roman stones recently found at Chester, during the second series of repairs to the North Wall.  Journal of the Chester Archaeological Society, vol.2, p. 98-131.
https://archaeologydataservice.ac.uk/archiveDS/archiveDownload?t=arch-2910-1/dissemination/pdf/JCAS_ns_002/JCAS_ns_002_098-131.pdf

Grosvenor Museum 2010. A Guide to Roman Stones at the Grosvenor Museum Chester. Illustrations by Dai Owen.

Henig, M. 2002.  Tales from the Tomb. In (ed.) Carrington, P.  Deva Victrix; Roman Chester Re-Assessed  papers from a weekend conference held at Chester College 3-5 September 1999.  Chester Archaeology
https://archaeologydataservice.ac.uk/archiveDS/archiveDownload?t=arch-2910-1/dissemination/pdf/CAS_DevaVictrix/CAS_DevaVictrix_075-078.pdf

Jones, I. Matthews. 1888. Official report on the discoveries of Roman remains at Chester, during the first repairs to the North Wall, in 1887. Journal of the Chester Archaeological Society 2. Vol 2, p. 1-10.
https://archaeologydataservice.ac.uk/archiveDS/archiveDownload?t=arch-2910-1/dissemination/pdf/JCAS_ns_002/JCAS_ns_002_001-010.pdf

Mason, D.J.P. 2007 (2nd edition). Roman Chester. City of the Eagles. Tempus

Thompson Watkin, W. T. 1888. The Roman inscriptions discovered at Chester, during the first repairs to the North Wall, in 1887. Journal of the Chester Archaeological Society 2. Vol 2, p.11-24.
https://archaeologydataservice.ac.uk/archiveDS/archiveDownload?t=arch-2910-1/dissemination/pdf/JCAS_ns_002/JCAS_ns_002_011-024.pdf

Wilding, R. 2006. Graham Webster Gallery of Roman Stones at the Grosvenor Museum, Chester: Explore the Hidden Mysteries of the ‘lost’ Roman Gravestones.


Websites

Roman Inscriptions of Britain (RIB)
https://romaninscriptionsofbritain.org/

Chester Archaeological Society
Professor Robert Newstead F. R. S. Lecture given to Chester Archaeological Society, 5th December 2009.  By Elizabeth Royles, Keeper of Early History, Grosvenor Museum
http://chesterarchaeolsoc.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/LRoyles-NewsteadLecture_05-12-09.pdf

Roman Baths
You can decode tombstones at the Roman Baths, Bath
https://www.romanbaths.co.uk/sites/roman_baths/files/heritage/SECONDARY%20SCHOOL%20Decoding%20Roman%20tombstone%20leaflet_0.pdf

Encylopedia Britannica
“Sarmatian.” The Editors of Encyclopaedia, 29 Mar. 2018. https://www.britannica.com/topic/Sarmatian

Telling Stories from Handling Medieval and Early Modern Objects

Many thanks to Chester Archaeological Society for circulating the news that Dr Katherine Wilson (Associate Professor in Later Medieval European History, University of Chester) was inviting CAS members to see and handle medieval objects in Chester from the Grosvenor Museum’s collections at two pop-up events.  Both were part of the Mobility of Objects Across Boundaries initiative.  The first event was on the day that I attended, the 3rd March at the Garret Theatre in the Story House, and another on the 4th March.  We were all greeted warmly by the team from Chester University, which included students who were seated in front of trays full of objects for us to go and investigate and learn about.

The format was very straightforward and worked perfectly.  A number of trays containing the objects were organized on a u-shaped table layout, so that we could easily move between them without being on top of each other.  In front of each tray was a University of Chester student, all of them helping us to explore the objects, encouraging discussions and real involvement with the objects in front of us and how they might lead us to understand more about the lives that left them behind.  Each tray had a selection of very different objects, so in each case there was a lot to talk about.  I didn’t catch the names of the students, but they were excellent.

Chester has a rich Medieval past, but as the team made clear, most people thinking about Medieval Chester focus almost exclusively in terms of the Cathedral and the half-timbered shop fronts, when there are not only other great buildings, like St John’s Church (Chester’s first cathedral), but there are also all the objects that have been excavated over the years, the items of every day life that people used, wore, carried with them or used in their daily work.  These items bring to life, at least in the imagination, the people who owned them.

Sole of a leather shoe, beautifully shaped. Source and copyright: The Mobility of Objects Across Boundaries (MOB)

Each object has a knack of opening windows into other parts of Medieval life that are no longer easily visible or reproducible.  The shoes were particularly evocative.  The first tray at which I sat down contained fragments of a black material, some very thin, one rather thick.  When I was asked what I thought they were, I said the first thoughts that came into my head: leather, protective, item of clothing.  I guessed a hood, perhaps because I was drenched from rain 🙂  They were, of course, fragments of shoes.  In the other boxes there were far more complete items, one sole with an additional patch of leather attached over the heel as a protective layer, much like a flat shoe today.  All of them bore the signs of wear, most of them were marked by tiny holes where one piece had been connected to another, and there was even a fabulous child’s shoe with an open toe.  These shoes, preserved in a waterlogged ditch just outside Chester, posed so many questions – how expensive were they (a goose, a sheep?), and in turn were they high status objects?  Were they everyday wear or were they only worn for best?  Where did their owners wear them?  How far did their owners, wearing their leather shoes, travel for trade, as messengers, or on pilgrimage?

Two of the keys in the object handling trays. Source and copyright: The Mobility of Objects Across Boundaries (MOB)

There were several keys, some of which had remarkably patterned and intricate ends or bits.  For every huge key there must have been a vast door, opening into home or business premises, whole worlds within worlds.  For every tiny key, each fascinating in its own complexity, there is a missing lock, a missing box and the missing contents to contemplate.  Perhaps such keys, each either looped or perforated at the tops, were carried on a string, worn around the neck when small enough or tied to a belt or locked in a draw, along with other keys.  Whilst the keys themselves were portable, and the small keys may have opened small and very portable chests, the big keys probably opened big doors, either room doors or cupboard doors, and whilst the keys themselves were portable, what they were opening was much less so.

The pieces of wheel-thrown pottery were impressively large and well made.  There was no sign of glazing, so these were probably very practical, every day items.  Being rim sherds, the diameters could be calculated to give an idea of the size of the pots.  There were no bases, so it was not possible to see if there was any sign of the sort of charring that would be expected for cooking.  Perhaps they were used for storage.  They were solid and designed to be moved around, re-used and to do a reliable, practical job.  A piece of handle probably belonged to an even bigger vessel, looking very like a Roman amphora handle, thick and ribbed, impressively chunky.  The contents of the vessel must have been heavy to require such big handles, perhaps a liquid of some sort.  If these items travelled, and were broken in the process, it was probably in the process of being shifted across a room or in the case of the thick-handled vessel, perhaps being carted from farm or port to market.

Medieval floor tile. Source and copyright: The Mobility of Objects Across Boundaries (MOB)

Medieval floor tiles seem like the antithesis of mobility or portability, but they too had travel tales to tell, as one of the students pointed out very vividly.  Between the pattern designers, the clay diggers, the mould-makers, the artisans and those who laid the floors, these pieces passed from hand to hand until they were eventually laid on the ground.  They are thick, about 3.5 cms from memory, and as the lady sitting next to me pointed out at one of the trays, there was little sign of inclusions in the fabric.  This presumably made them less prone to cracking, more able to bear the weight of people walking over them.  The tiles were splendid, the glazed ones with the indented moulded decoration capturing light as we moved them.  In candle light, the images, lions and griffins, must have appeared to shift and shimmer, providing them with a type of dynamism beyond the pattern that the contributed to on the floor.  I was looking at the Victorian floor tiles in Chester Cathedral last week, for which I have a guilty liking based on the hallways of countless terraced houses around the country, but when compared to the Medieval ones they seem very two-dimensional and glossy.  The Medieval ones have a texture, luminosity and energy that are truly remarkable.

There was one piece, possibly a tile, that was neither rectangular or glazed, but perfectly round with a lion’s head looking out.  The puzzle, the student told me, was that the rectangular ones were all mass-produced, because they would be laid on floor, just like modern ones, but round ones were most unusual.  This was small, only about 10cm in total diameter, and deeper than the square ones.  It was also, if memory serves, made of stone.  The lion’s head was painted on, not moulded, and although the disk itself would have been fairly tolerant of feet, I wonder about that lion.  A possibility is that it was the centre of a radiating design, but the radiating pieces would also have to be specially shaped, and if so, where are they?  As he said, a puzzle, but a very nice one.

A remarkable ampulla. Source and copyright: The Mobility of Objects Across Boundaries (MOB)

Some of the objects came from outside of Britain.  A gorgeous little cross within a circle, just a few centimetres across, was from Siena in Italy, and was probably sewn on to a piece of clothing, and would have looked like a brooch.  Other items may have worked their ways all the way down the Silk Road, eventually finding their way to Chester.  One particularly startling piece, featuring a very austere male face, is a tiny St Thomas Becket flask for containing holy water, called an ampulla (ampullae in the plural), the ears forming little loops for string attachment to a belt or clothing.  Its weight suggests that it was made of lead.  Some of these long-travelled objects were moulded, and easy to mass produce, but owning them would still have been precious, often representing a serious achievement, something to which others might aspire, and making the owner visibly one of a circle of similar achievers, irrespective of birth or background.
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Silver spoon handle with face of St Peter topped by a cockerel. Source and copyright: The Mobility of Objects Across Boundaries (MOB)

In another tray was a tiny but highly decorative little piece of metal, a devotional token. It is in the face of a head, and was broken below the neck, so certainly had once been somewhat longer.  It probably had something of a similar role to a pilgrim’s badge – the souvenir or, rather more importantly, an indication of pride, the sense of achievement with which a particular devotional religious task is associated.  There was also a very, very thin copper ring on the same tray that had a wide section at the front, with tiny little carved symbols marking it, thought to have been different events in the owner’s life.  In another tray was a silver spoon handle from Rome showing the face of St Peter and topped with a cockerel, representing Peter’s denial of Christ three times. These three items were so small and personal that they spoke of how people who made long journeys, perhaps people who did not have sufficient silver pennies to make many such journeys, valued these objects as emblems that declared numerous concepts – achievement, affiliation with an idea or an ideal, veneration of a religion or a preferred saint.  One student (wish I had known any of their names) had on his own jacket a replica pilgrim’s badge of geese in a basket, the symbol of St Werburgh, whose remains were moved to Chester Abbey (now Cathedral) in the 10th century, attracting  pilgrims.

Poppy worn by thousands of British people each year in memory of those lost and wounded in war. Photograph by Philip Stephens. Source: Wikipedia

Taking this a step further, people have been using objects to signify identity, nationality and membership since prehistory, and we still wear objects to communicate similar ideas.  Examples are badges of membership of a particular association or society; shirts supporting a particular sporting team; sweatshirts declaring an affiliation to a particular university; handbags advertising how elite they are by displaying their designers’ logos; poppies on Remembrance Sunday expressing our debt to those injured in war and, just recently MPs in the symbol-laden House of Commons wearing Ukrainian flag ribbons.  Today some of these icons and symbols travel the globe very easily, but travel was more difficult in the past, and some images that found there ways into Medieval society travelled from other parts of the planet via trade and pilgrim routes, copied and re-interpreted as they travelled.  The emblems of association with guilds, religions and the signals of achievement must have had a much greater depth to them, and new images and their ideas must have been both challenging and fascinating.

National Archives Currency Converter showing the results for the estimated value of £1.00 in 1440

Distributed through a number of the trays  were coins, tiny silver pennies, so thin that they were terrifying to handle and difficult to read.  One was a Henry VI penny, so beautiful and so subtle that it looked more like a piece of ornamentation than something one would do business with.  The question of how one measures value came up.  Many exchanges were done in kind, trading one set of skills or products for another in the form of services, foodstuffs and finished products but for  assessing those who had coinage, the National Archives has a fabulous Currency Convertor, enables you to put in a year, a monetary value (like a penny, pound or £10, 3s, 1d and press a button to calculate how many horses, heads of cattle, sheep wool, days of labour etc you would get for your money.  It goes back to 1270 and gives a vivid sense of what value something may have been in the past, and since I found it about 10 years ago has always made me think of historical coins in terms of what that would have purchased. If we plonk ourselves down somewhere in the middle of the king’s first reign, say 1440, when there were about 240 pennies to the pound, what would £1.00 have bought you? One horse, two cows or seven stones of wool.  That also equates to 33 days of a skilled tradesman’s labour.   All those little pennies added up to something very significant if only, just as today, you could save enough of them.

It’s amazing how one can get things so badly wrong.  One object, with a very sharp point and spurs of different sizes, I speculated might have been a device for cleaning sheep hooves.  I am a bit livestock-orientated, having specialized in livestock management in my own research.  On rethinking, I thought that it might have been used for both piercing and shaping leather or other materials.  Turns out that it was another key, presumably incredibly well worn 🙂  One of the great things about the object handling event was that there was absolutely no derision.  All ideas were welcomed.  Handling the objects, talking about them, thinking about them was a great way of bringing all that reading to life and imagining how people’s lives actually looked and felt.

Grosvenor Museum. Photograph by Dennis Turner. Source: Geograph via Wikipedia

There will be an exhibition based on a similar theme at the Grosvenor Museum in Chester beginning at the end of April.  I used to volunteer there, working on finds during the 1980s.  Dates and top-level details for the upcoming exhibition, which will probably be added to in the future as the exhibition nears, are at:
https://events.westcheshiremuseums.co.uk/event/medieval-chester-retold/

Repeated thanks to Dr Katherine Wilson and her excellent team, who did such an excellent job of talking us through the objects on the trays in front of them.  Thanks again too to Chester Archaeological Society for the email that told me that it was happening.  A great couple of hours.  For more about the Mobility of Objects Across Boundaries project, see the website at:
https://mob.chester.ac.uk/
https://mobilityofobjectsacrossboundaries.wordpress.com/

I went for a second wander around the cathedral afterwards, and was lucky enough to catch the organ in full swing.  Glorious.  Although this is a 19th century organ, with bunches of pipes popping up everywhere, there are records of an organ in the abbey since before the Dissolution, perhaps contemporary with some of the objects that we were handling today.
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Links connected with Thursday’s event:

Mobility of Objects Across Boundaries website
https://mobilityofobjectsacrossboundaries.wordpress.com/

Mobility of Objects: Pilgrim badges and devotional tokens from the Grosvenor Museum, Chester (video)
https://www.openartsarchive.org/resource/mobility-objects-pilgrim-badges-and-devotional-tokens-grosvenor-museum-chester

Object Videos Pilgrimage Badges and Devotional Tokens (video)
https://mobilityofobjectsacrossboundaries.wordpress.com/object-videos-handling-session-2-pilgrimage-badges-and-devotional-tokens/

Education Object Boxes
https://mob.chester.ac.uk/activities/education-object-boxes-for-schools/

Other sources

Useful details about ampullae
Ampulla
https://medievallondon.ace.fordham.edu/collections/show/90