Experimentation and Reconstruction in Environmental Archaeology

Environmental and Experimental Studies in the History of Archaeology

Don Brothwell

Abstract

Has environmental archaeology a history which can be said to extend back much beyond the formation of the Association for Environmental Archaeology? The term has been commonly used in archaeology for no more than four decades, but clearly the subject has evolved slowly over a long period from a primf1ordial intellectual soup derived in particular from the biological and earth sciences, as well as from archaeology itself. In a way, the situation has changed little, in that the strength of the subject today still rests on the work of colleagues derived from various disciplines and lodged in numerous contrasting departments, for there are few positions in environmental archaeology sensu stricto. This does not detract from these studies or argue against the evolving discipline which this symposium is about, or of its importance as a core subject in archaeology today. Keeping in mind the mosaic nature of environmental archaeology, it will be argued that the subject has a history, both in terms of environmental reconstruction and experimental studies, extending well over a century. The fact that little of this is given in accounts of the emergence of archaeology, is simply a reflection on how antiquarian archaeology views its past development. It will be some time yet before archaeology gives proper credit to the association and importance of various scientific lines of investigation to the maturation of the field of archaeology as a whole.

Introduction

There is an irony in the fact that the history of archaeology, a subject itself concerned with history, has been considered to be a rather unimportant matter. To my knowledge, Glyn Daniel was by no means fully appreciated for his attempts to consolidate the history of this subject. The emergence of environmental archaeology, and particularly the range of early experimental work which relates to the history of our field, is perhaps least considered of all.

It is, I think, a reflection of how poorly established environmental studies are within the general field of archaeology, that in John Coles’ book Experimental Archaeology, little attention is paid to environmental archaeology, although as I wish to show, various examples establishing its history can already be called on. As a result of this meeting in Roskilde, I am sure that a few additional chapters may well need adding to his book.

What follows is not an exhaustive appraisal, but I hope it will at least contribute to the history of our subject.

Geological aspects

Investigations of geological matters in relation to archaeology have gained momentum over two centuries. William Stukeley (1740) was intrigued to know what the microscopic examination of Stonehenge rock might show, and microscopy was similarly brought to bear on the fine study of pottery by Anatole Bamps in 1883. However, Thomas (1923) did not initiate archaeological petrology until many decades later, and most work is of this century (Shotton and Hendry 1979). Geochronology could be said to have been founded in 1910 by the Swedish geologist De Geer, working on Swedish varves although the term geochronology was coined in 1893 (Williams 1893). De Geer (1910) demonstrated that these variable summer-winter deposits represented annual deposition and that they could thus be used in calculations of time. Other kinds of layering had in fact attracted attention at an earlier date. The British Association in 1874 was concerned to measure the rates of deposition of stalagmites, and estimated a general rate of one foot (0,3 m) per 20,000 years. Separate estimates for Kent’s Cavern suggested a total age for the deposits of over 700,000 years (Wright 1893). About this time, the term archaeogeology came into being, to emphasise the common interest of archaeology with geology and palaeontology (Buchner 1872).

Regarding the Institute of Archaeology in London, it was half a century ago that Zeuner (1938) spoke of establishing a laboratory for sedimentological analysis, and, in relation to studies on the composition and origin of British brickearths, mentioned the need for experiments to improve analytical methods. Incidentally, Zeuner’s geoarchaeological interests included an investigation into the nature of Indian cinder mounds (Zeuner 1959), which he suspected were mainly deposits of burnt dung. In investigating so-called cremation clinker, including the experimental burning of bread and hair, my interests have converged on the earlier cinder work (Brothwell 1971a), which I think provides a further clue in the interpretation of the cremated non-osseous material (see also Henderson et al. 1987).

Although archaeological soil studies were well established prior to the Second World War, (e.g. Zeuner 1939), without doubt a considerable boost was given to the study of archaeological soils by Zeuner’s colleague Ian Cornwall. His work in this field, and especially his pioneering book on the subject (Cornwall 1958), helped to establish this environmental topic within archaeology. In fact soils and their formation had been studied well into the past century (Bunting 1964). Not only was Darwin (1882) busy with worms and soils, but there were studies elsewhere (Muller 1887, for instance). Indeed, by 1875, buried soils had already been recorded in barrow sections (Emeis 1875), although admittedly the potential value of such sealed deposits was rather missed (Figure 1).

Vitrification

It would be nice to think that Sir James Hall, father of experimental geology (Thomson 1906), would have approved of the experimental work undertaken in an attempt to understand the vitrification occurring at certain hill fortifications, especially in Scotland (Figure 2a). In the earlier part of the nineteenth century he had been interested in the possible conversion of chalk into marble and of modifying basalt by heat. By Hall’s time, the vitrified forts had already long been described by John Williams, a mineral engineer. Many accounts followed his, with varying opinions as to how the vitrification occurred (Christison 1898).

Figure 1. Early sections through prehistoric barrows, showing buried soils, as illustrated by Emeis (1875).

Figure 2.a. Plan and sections of the vitrified fort at Carradale, Kintyre (after Christison (1898)). I = one of the vitrified masses. H = entrance to fortification, b. Timber-laced wall used in vitrification experiments (after Childe and Thorneycroft (1938)). The elevation is left and the section is right.

Childe and Thorneycroft’s (1938) experimental work was a novel way of attempting to answer this question (Figure 2b). The timber-laced wall they constructed and fired certainly produced some limited vitrification (and burnt a lot of dry timber), but did this really simulate an ancient hilltop structure where the timbers were sparse and probably far from dry? Continuing doubts about the nature of this vitrification has led to further work and experimentation more recently (Brothwell et al. 1974, Fredriksson et al. 1983), and the final answer to these sometimes massive areas of vitrification (Figure 1) is really in the hands of the next generation of experimenters.

Experimental aspects of tools

While artefacts may generally be seen to be the domain of cultural archaeology, it seems to me that there are aspects which extend into the domain of environmental studies, and deserve brief mention here. One is reminded that an experimental copy of a large bone tool found at Piltdown (Oakley 1955) helped to expose the fake, and incidentally taught us a little about metal marks on weathered bone (Figure 3). Ambrosiani (1981) was also one of the first to use bone experimentally in studying Viking bone combs, demonstrating differences in the histology and technological quality of different antlers. Semenov’s (1970) classic work on prehistoric technology also includes objects of bone, as well as of stone. Studies on stone have progressed greatly since this Russian work was first published in 1957, and there is nowadays much interest and experimenting with microwear in relation to ancient harvesting techniques.

Figure 3 Part of the Piltdown implement compared to an experimentally produced implement (right), produced by cutting a fossil bone sample with a steel knife. After Oakley (1955).

Perhaps the ultimate in tool manufacture or tool use experiments is that reported from Peru. While numerous cranial trephinations were known from this area, as well as a wide range of apparent surgical equipment, it was the determination of Drs Grana, Rocca and Grana (1954) - plus a brave patient in 1953 - which enabled the ancient equipment to be tried out. The trephination was successful although the eventual health of the patient is not known.

Taphonomy

It has clearly always been important for us to know about the nature of the preservation of organic remains, of the changes which have occurred from their living status in the biosphere to their eventual degraded incorporation into the lithosphere. It could be said that this field of taphonomy became distinct with the definition of the term by Efremov in 1940 and his subsequent writings, but clearly it has a much longer history. Weigelt (1927) called it biostratonomy, and before that is was simply viewed as an aspect of fossilisation and preservation in relation to palaeontology. Perhaps we should see the ultimate origin of the interest in processes of decay or preservation, in the ponderings of the very early excavators and fossil collectors. One is reminded of the condition of the bones in a Wiltshire barrow, excavated and reported on by Sir Richard Colt Hoare in 1810. Of the lowest body in the mound he writes: when throwing out the bones of this skeleton, we had a strong proof how well they are preserved when deposited deep in the chalk, as they would bear being thrown for a considerable distance without breaking.

By the time Joly published his book on Man Before Metals in 1887 it was possible to discuss as a separate issue the conditions of the bones, and their chemical composition. He writes: The nature of the bones, that of the soil, its dryness or humidity, its permeability by air and water, the more or less ancient date of burial, the depth at which they lie, have a considerable effect on the condition of the bones (p 88). It is sobering to remember that the chemistry of ancient bones was by then being investigated (Scheurer-Kestner 1867), and it was realised for instance that the nitrogen content of bone was a valuable relative dating method. Hence, human remains from Aurignac were shown to be contemporary with associated bear, reindeer and rhinoceros. This was many decades before the Piltdown forgery was thought of!

Since these early days, and especially within the past decades, there has been a considerable increase in the literature in this field (see Behrensmeyer and Hill 1980). This has extended to a variety of non-skeletal materials, including plants, where there has been a need, for instance, to assess structural changes resulting from carbonisation (Renfrew 1973, Wilson 1984). The differential survival of plant foods passing through the human gut is clearly relevant to the correct interpretation of coprolites (Calder 1977), and this has been bravely tackled by experiments on living individuals (and studies on the faecal samples they contributed to science). In experimental nutritional studies, humans need not always be used of course, and, for instance, the dietary quality of cooked versus uncooked maize has been checked by experiments on rats and pigs (Katz, Hediger and Valleroy 1975). This assisted in formulating the hypothesis that the Amerindian alkali processing of maize has digestive, and thus adaptive, advantages in societies with maize agriculture. For those with nutritional, if not digestive enthusiasms, even owl pellets can reveal significant and relevant information, with interpretations of small mammal preservation at two British Middle Pleistocene sites being dependent on such findings (Peter Andrews pers.comm.).

Figure 4. The original illustration from Jones (1877), showing a hypothetical transformation of a Danish environment from the neolithic to Iron Age.

Injuries and cuts on bones clearly lend themselves to investigation by experimental means. For instance the injuries to the so-called Q1 Neolithic skeleton from Maiden Castle in Dorset suggested that a metal weapon (probably a sword) had been used. As only stone artefacts would have been available in the Neolithic, there was a need to check this matter carefully. Injuries to bone, produced experimentally from a range of artefacts, provided conclusive evidence that the bone damage was from a sharp metal weapon, thus calling into question the dating of this specimen (Brothwell 1971b). Problems concerned with damaged and cut bones can vary considerably, depending on site, culture and activity. Wijngaarden-Bakker (1987 and this volume) considers a more recent case involving the interpretation of damage to a series of 8th century AD domestic pig mandibles. Experimental butchery of modern sows heads helped to explain the jaw damage as linked to specialised marrow extraction.

It deserves mention that experimental studies on non-osseous tissues have also been undertaken. Experimental mummification was carried out by Sandison (1963) and recently by Garner (David 1978), in order to understand the nature of body preservation and the pseudo-pathology which can arise. In the case of the Lindow II body, conservation demanded experiments with pigskin - packed in peat for several months - then given pre-treatment with different strength solutions of polyethylene glycols (Omar and McCord 1986).

Even the nature and preservation of archaeological hair has demanded some experimentation. In a study of ancient hair from various sites, modern hair was submitted to various burial environments for 18 months, and then various stains applied experimentally in order to evaluate the decay (Brothwell and Spearman 1963).

Botanical experiments and reconstructions

The history of human interest in controlling and experimenting with plants clearly extends back into the Pleistocene, and in particular involves the eventual cultivation of food plants. There were some imaginative ancient enterprices, as exemplified for instance by Queen Hatshepsut’s expedition to the land of Punt in 1495 BC and the transportation of live trees from this area (Hepper 1967). There was a growing knowledge of botany in the Ancient World and Theophrastus even refers to flower dust in his comments on the need to pollinate the female date palm. But it was experimental work by Rudolf Camerarius of Tübingen, published in 1694 which confirmed the anatomy of plant reproduction and the importance of pollen. Improvement in microscopy during the nineteenth century led to a far more detailed appreciation of plant anatomy and morphological variation, permitting far more detailed studies from then on.

Theophrastus can also be named as the earliest speculator on the nature of tree-rings, although dendrochronology has a defined history of only about 60 years (Bannister 1963). It is part of the irony of archaeological history that the technique was developed by an astronomer, A.E. Douglass, from early work at the turn of the century, especially at the Amerindian site of Pueblo Bonito.

Prior to the development of ancient pollen studies, there was a growing interest in the macroscopic aspects of ancient plants, and what these could say about human foods or environmental changes. Danish peat bogs were early seen to be valuable records of ancient environments, and Steenstrup had attempted to classify different kinds by 1842. It was also realised at this early period that different levels in these peat deposits provided evidence of vegetational change which could be associated with Holocene culture changes. The three figures illustrated are imaginative reconstructions by Rupert Jones in 1877 of Danish vegetation changes from neolithic to Iron Age times (Figure 4). This association between archaeology and peat studies was especially developed in Denmark, although gradually investigations on peat spread in Europe. In Switzerland the work was extended to the so-called lake villages (Figure 5), which provided a rich variety of plant debris including food remains (Heer 1878).

Figure 5. The original illustration from Heer’s (1878) study of Swiss lake dwelling plants. Both ancient and modern comparative specimens are given.

By the turn of the century, the investigation of peat profiles showing vegetational changes, and the interpretation of climatic changes from such evidence (Lewis 1905-7, 1911, Sernander 1908), were established lines of investigation, mutually of interest to geologists, botanists and archaeologists.

Pollen studies

Palynology is of course a field which is shared with a number of other academic disciplines, but we can certainly claim to make as much use of pollen data as the others. The work of von Post (1916) on Swedish bog pollens is usually quoted as the founding paper of palynology, but in fact earlier work provided the initial foundations. For instance the Swiss geologist Fruh (1885) helped to pioneer pollen analysis, enumerating many European pollen types. The Swedish biologist Trybom (1888) suggested the possible value of certain tree pollens as index fossils. The German peat botanist Weber (1896) further refined methods of evaluating relative quantities of pollen in samples, and of comparing species. By 1909, Holst had produced a fundamental paper on the methodological aspects of pollen analysis and from then on there was a steady trickle of studies. So by the time Godwin was writing in the 1930’s on the method and its problems, the subject had been slowly maturing for half a century (Godwin 1934).

Post-depositional degradation of pollen has been variously studied, including at an experimental level. Most of these enquiries are in fact comparatively recent, extending mainly over the past twenty-five years. One can now conclude that decay of pollen and spores depends, among other things, on the variables of soil type, soil pH and climate (Havinga 1971, Vuorela 1977).

Experimental work involving pollen also included some inspired attempts to assess the importance of wind in transporting pollen. Hesselman (1919) set pollen traps on lightships in the Gulf of Bothnia. Erdtman (1937) trapped pollen by means of vacuum cleaners on a voyage from Gothenburg to New York.

While the distribution of pollen by air currents has been well considered within the past half century, it should be remembered that the study of the wind-borne nature of organic particles is of much greater antiquity. In fact it was the problem of the possible airborne spread of disease which first occupied various people in earlier societies. Three and a half millennia ago in Egypt, the Edwin Smith papyrus was concerned about cleansing the winds of disease. By 1840 Jacob Henle was claiming that microbial particles were conveyed through the air (Riley 1980). By 1881, serious infectious diseases such as diphtheria, were being considered in relation to wind velocity and direction (Airy 1883). I make this point because it seems to me that it is all too easy to miss information from the broad field of the history of biology or the earth sciences, which have relevance in trying to construct a balanced history for our own discipline.

Agricultural aspects

Early agricultural experiments, either concerned with evaluating the origins of species or determining the ancestral form, seem to have a surprisingly long history, especially on the plant side. Indeed de Vilmorin began what might be called culinary genetics in 1832 with classic experiments on carrots, three decades before Mendel’s work on peas had matured. de Vilmorin’s planting experiments demonstrated that the simple selection of seeds from larger rooted carrots (derived from wild carrots) over eight successive years produced generally larger yield carrots (with new colour variation as well). From this initial work (Vilmorin 1840) his interest extended to other species and he made the further point that species with a long cultivation history appeared to show much variation, while less cultivated or wild forms displayed more restricted variability.

The farm protection of unusual variants, and breeding experiments with them, must have a similar long history, and during the nineteenth century might be viewed as providing information especially pertinent to the understanding of ancient livestock varieties being excavated in parts of the Old World. It was thus the reproductive use of a ram born in 1828 with a distinctive even wool, which gave rise to the so-called Mauchamp breed (which also has the propensity to produce 4 udders - never selected for). Similarly, hornless cattle appearing as individual mutants in the Meuse in 1861 and Sicily in 1874 have selectively given rise to hornless varieties. The danger of this kind of evidence, of course, is to extrapolate such selection philosophies too far back and imagine that neolithic farmers were similarly pouncing on mutant varieties with the specific purpose of transforming stock in size, shape or colour. They may have been, of course, but there is a need to appreciate the transformations which can occur in populations simply as a result of founder effect and drift (and no doubt relaxed selection). Even a simple policy of castrating a proportion of young males, will inevitably introduce an element of selection - and thus of selective breeding.

The ultimate in terms of animal experimentation in relation to archaeology was not concerned with transformations from ancestral to domestic varieties, but with quite the reverse. From the 1920’s, Lutz Heck and Heinz Heck were concerned to reconstitute the aurochs (Heck 1951, 1952). Zeuner (1963), for one, was taken in by these supposed man-made living fossils, and this sort of thing tends to demonstrate the limitations of our genetic understanding in bioarchaeology. However similar these experimentally reconstructed animals were, in terms of physique or behaviour, the fact remains that the composition of the original aurochs gene pool was lost and unknown, and the pseudo-aurochs could only be selective breeding from stock already selectively bred over centuries if not millennia.

In terms of botanical experimentation in relation to the origins and archaeology of a particular species, the accolade surely goes to Paul Mangelsdorf. His long interest in the microevolution of maize (Mangelsdorf and Reeves 1939, Mangelsdorf 1960) included attempts to reconstruct the ancestral form. He writes: Although we have not yet completely reconstructed wild corn, or duplicated exactly the most primitive specimens from either Bat Cave or La Perra Cave - the glumes of the pod-popcorns are still too prominent to match those of the prehistoric specimens - we have succeeded in developing what is probably the world’s most unproductive corn. This is useful in suggesting that we are on the right track in attempting to retrace corn’s evolutionary paths! (Mangelsdorf 1960).

Agricultural experimentation in relation to the reconstruction of past farming environments, has multiplied in the past two decades. It would be inappropriate to expand on such recent experimental history, except to exemplify by reference to the careful and detailed work of van Zeist and colleagues (1976) in the unusual environment of unprotected salt marsh. The problem was whether the people occupying the terpen of the northern Netherlands in about 500 BC were able to practice agriculture in a brackish salt marsh environment. Their comparative experimental work demonstrated that the cultivation of normal crop plants was possible, providing that the fields were situated on the highest parts of the salt marshes (van Zeist, van Hoorn, Bottema and Woldring 1976).

Mummy wheat

Perhaps one of the earliest links between botanists and archaeologists, initiating some interesting experimental work, was the controversial subject of the vitality of mummy wheat. Fundamental studies on the ageing and viability of seeds was initiated by the British Association as early as 1834 and extended over two decades. Of 288 genera considered, seeds of very few species were viable after 20 years, and the general conclusion from such investigations was that extremely ancient seeds could not therefore be expected to germinate. Darwin’s interest in the viability of ancient seeds was certainly kindled by 1843, when he was sent from Galashiels seeds from under a 25 foot sand deposit. In 1855 he was corresponding with J.D. Hooker over other cases: You well know how credulous I am, and therefore you will not be surprised at my believing the rasperry story: a very similar case is on record in Germany - viz., seeds from a barrow (Darwin 1903). Nevertheless, a half century later, a paper was read to the Society of Antiquaries by John Philipson (1888), extending once more the debate on this matter.

Optimists in this mummy wheat debate included Mr Martin Tupper, whose experimental plantings took place at the time of the British Association’s studies. Tupper’s sample seemed impeccable. The cereal was from a tomb personally opened by Sir Gardiner Wilkinson, who personally opened the alabaster vase containing the grain. A portion of this was then given to Pettigrew, the mummy specialist, who handed it on to Tupper. Germination was achieved in one of his sub-samples. Was the good Sir Gardiner helped along by over-enthusiastic Arab workmen, or are some of these spurious cases the result of miniature Piltdown-like deception? It was not just Egypt which produced the goods, either. The antiquary, the Rev. William Barnes, records that raspberry seeds were taken from the contents of the colon of a body in a Romano-British cist, and that these were planted and proved viable. It is to the credit of both archaeologists and botanists that by the end of the nineteenth century, there was mainly scepticism to such claims of viable mummy wheat, however impeccable the experimental cultivation.

Most recently, of course, this viability problem has cropped up again; not in seeds this time but in the apparently viable Thermoactinomyces endosperms from 1850 year old deposits beneath the Roman fort of Vindolanda (Unsworth, Cross, Seaward and Sims 1977).

Anatomy and climate

A potentially rewarding but rather difficult field of environmental interpretation is related to calcified tissue research. It