Neolithic Stepping Stones: Excavation and survey within the western seaways of Britain, 2008-2014

Chapter 1

Introduction

1.1. Introduction to the Stepping Stones project

This book outlines the results of three excavations conducted between 2008 and 2014 under the auspices of the Neolithic Stepping Stones project: at L’Erée, Guernsey in the Channel Islands, Old Quay, St Martin’s in the Isles of Scilly, and An Doirlinn, South Uist in the Outer Hebrides (Figure 1.01). In order to contextualise the significance of these findings, we also explore a series of wider, related themes: the character and archaeological signatures of prehistoric maritime connectivity; the nature and effects of ‘island-ness’ in later prehistory; the extent and implications of Neolithic/ Early Bronze Age (EBA) settlement variability across Britain; and the consequences of geographical biases in archaeological research in terms of our understanding of the prehistoric past.

The project’s full title was ‘Stepping stones to the Neolithic? Islands, maritime connectivity and the western seaways of Britain, 5000–3500 BC’. Its primary focus was the Mesolithic–Neolithic transition on the main offshore island groups within the ‘western seaways’ – an area of sea extending from the Channel Islands in the south, through the Isles of Scilly and the Isle of Man, around to the Outer Hebrides and Orkney in the north (Figure 1.01). The project represented a research collaboration between the Universities of Liverpool/Reading (Garrow) and the University of Southampton (Sturt). We also worked closely with Cardiff University, Historic Environment, Cornwall Council and three project partner museums: Guernsey Museums and Galleries, the Isles of Scilly Museum and Museum nan Eilean.

In summary, the project as a whole involved the excavation of the three sites (this volume), computer modelling of the sea around that time (Sturt et al. 2013), and the construction of a database of late Mesolithic and early Neolithic sites within the western seaways zone which led to a major radiocarbon dating programme (Garrow et al. 2017). This work was funded predominantly by a grant from the Arts and Humanities Research Council (AH/I021841/1), but money from the Society of Antiquaries of London for excavations at L’Erée (2009–11) and Old Quay (2014) was also crucial to the establishment and subsequent successful completion of the project, as was ‘pump-priming’ funding from the University of Liverpool (2008), and in-kind funding for dating from the NERC Radiocarbon Facility.

1.2. The Mesolithic–Neolithic transition in Britain, Ireland and north-west France

The processes by which Neolithic practices spread throughout Europe, and – more specifically in relation to this project – ultimately across the Channel to Britain and Ireland, have been much debated over the years (see Thomas 2013 and Anderson-Whymark & Garrow 2015 for recent reviews). In relation to the Mesolithic–Neolithic transition in Britain and Ireland, the two main issues under recent discussion have been the extent and character of migration from the continent (many incoming migrants, none, or just a few?) and the origins and directionality of change (from which parts of the near continent did Neolithic things come, and were ‘native’ British/Irish people or ‘invasive’ continental Europeans primarily responsible for their arrival?) (see for example Sheridan 2010, Whittle et al. 2011). A third, more subtle and less discussed, underlying problematic has been the character of the earliest Neolithic material culture in Britain/Ireland – whilst clearly similar to material from the continent, it is by no means typologically the same, with certain elements either ‘translated’ or missing altogether, and precise source areas difficult to pin down (Thomas 2013, 355–384). As Anderson-Whymark & Garrow (2015) stress, many of these recent discussions have been similar to culture-historical ones conducted during the middle decades of the 20th century. Our primary aim in setting up the Stepping Stones project was to understand better the timing and character of change over the 5th and 4th millennia within the crucial western seaways zone, with the intention of shedding new light on age-old problems.

Figure 1.01. Map of the western seaways showing island groups. Topographic and bathymetric data from GEBCO14 (www.gebco.net) and EMODnet (www.emodnet-bathymetry.eu).

Given that they became islands c. 14,000 BC¹ (Ireland) and c. 7000 BC (Britain) (see Sturt 2015 for details), discussions of culture-historical change associated with the start of the Neolithic must necessarily involve questions of maritime connectivity and seafaring. As we discuss in more detail in Section 1.3, the western seaways have long been seen as a crucial corridor of interaction. In recent years, Sheridan in particular has stressed connectivity along that route, identifying three main phases and routes of activity leading to the arrival and subsequent development of the Neolithic (e.g. Sheridan 2010, 91). Whittle et al., however, have argued that the dynamics of change were orientated in a quite different direction. Their radiocarbon dating-driven model suggested that ‘Neolithic things and practices’ arrived in south-east England during the 41st century cal BC, and subsequently spread north and west across Britain, and over to Ireland, in the centuries up to c. 3800–3700 cal BC (Whittle et al. 2011, 836; see also Garrow et al. 2017).

While this newly suggested directionality appears on one level to hand primacy over to the Dover–Calais route, as long as we stay interested in the long-term processes of transition, the western seaways nonetheless remain highly relevant. The best known and most convincing indication of cross-Channel contact between communities in Britain/Ireland and France during the 5th millennium is the small group of cow bones found on an artefactually Mesolithic site at Ferriter’s Cove, south-west Ireland, dated to 4495–4195 cal BC at 95% probability (Woodman & McCarthy 2003, 33). Given that there were no native wild cattle in Ireland, it has generally been assumed that these represent the (possibly partial) remains of a cow imported from France (see Thomas 2013, 266–268). Who brought them across the sea, and for what reason, it is impossible to establish. More contentious material indicators of cross-Channel contact possibly prior to the start of the Neolithic in Britain and Ireland include the Achnacreebeag pot (which bears distinct similarities to vessels from northwest France) found in an Early Neolithic tomb in western Scotland (Sheridan 2010), a small number of jadeitite axes found across Britain (which derive originally from the Alps and could potentially have been imported during the 5th millennium BC) (Sheridan 2011, 31), possible cereal pollen dating to the 5th millennium cal BC on the Isle of Man (Innes et al. 2003), and the possibly very early causewayed enclosure found at Magheraboy, Co. Sligo, dated to 4115–3850 cal BC (Whittle et al. 2011, 584) (see Anderson-Whymark & Garrow 2015 for a more detailed summary and discussion of all of this evidence). Recent findings including the much-disputed traces of wheat DNA identified in layers dating to the 6th millennium cal BC at Bouldner Cliff, Isle of Wight (Smith et al. 2015), and indeed the Belgian/French-style microliths found at Old Quay, Isles of Scilly (Chapter 3, this volume), can probably also now be added to this list. Once all of this evidence is combined, it becomes clear that, whether or not the location of the first ‘full Neolithic’ was in south-east England, the western seaways are still crucial to any understanding of maritime connections and the earliest processes of change leading up to the transition.

In light of these wider discussions of the Mesolithic– Neolithic transition in Britain and Ireland, the Channel Islands are able to play an interesting role. This island group is, of course, geographically much closer to France – in between the Normandy and Brittany peninsulas – and part of Britain only as a result of the contingencies of relatively modern politics. The transition occurs there c. 5000 BC (around a thousand years earlier than in Britain/Ireland) and Early Neolithic material culture on the islands is directly comparable to that from mainland France. Our decision to include the Channel Islands in the project was an explicit and intentional one from the outset. The subtly different issues involved in the process of transition there can play a key role in terms of providing perspective on what has at times been, ironically, a somewhat insular debate across the Channel. The particular trajectory of the Channel Islands transition is described fully in Section 1.6. The key issues pertaining to the process across the water in north-west France are, in fact, often surprisingly comparable to those under discussion in Britain and Ireland: the respective roles of incoming farmers and native hunter-gatherers, the effects and meaning of material culture potentially exchanged between these two groups, the visibility (or not) of Early Neolithic settlements (see also Marcigny et al. 2010, Scarre 2011 and Garrow & Sturt 2017).

Our main motivation for focusing attention on the island groups within the western seaways was the fact that – despite the potentially critical importance of this maritime zone – they simply had not featured enough, or even at all, in many previous accounts. While the islands within the seaways could theoretically have been crucial Earliest Neolithic ‘stepping stones’ on the way across the Channel, broader narratives had been focused almost exclusively on the mainlands either side and so it was impossible to know (see also Garrow et al. 2017). Additionally, a key legacy of the differential histories of research in different regions of Britain and Ireland (see Section 1.7) has been that on some island groups (the Channel Islands, the Isles of Scilly and the Isle of Man in particular) very little at all is known about Early Neolithic settlement (Garrow & Sturt 2011, 66–67). This situation ensured that our work within those island groups especially had the potential to enhance the archaeological record radically, simply by excavating suspected Early Neolithic sites.

One intriguing aspect of working archaeologically on islands is the enhanced visibility (and meaning) of material transformations. While marine-borne culture-historical change should not necessarily occasion more surprise than terrestrial change – in many circumstances in the past, maritime communication may well have been more common and much easier (Garrow & Sturt 2015) – the arrival of people by boat across stretches of water 40–60 km wide often does seem somehow more significant: steps across water to the stepping stones appear more significant than those taken on land up to the bank of the river. Additionally, for many of the stretches of water we are talking about here, the journey would often have been a significant event (see Section 1.3). As we discuss in more detail towards the end of this volume, islands provide a particular window onto change, focusing attention very directly on the process as well as the outcomes.

1.3. The ‘western seaways’

Given Britain and Ireland’s physical location on the western edge of the European continental shelf, surrounded by the waters of the Atlantic Ocean, English Channel, Irish, Celtic and North Seas (Figure 1.01), it is unsurprising that the role these seaways played in shaping the archaeological and historical record has been commented on for over a hundred years. As Callaghan and Scarre (2009, 358) note, the importance of the seaways first came to prominence in Fergusson’s (1872) wide ranging Rude Stone Monuments in All Countries; their Ages and Uses. Fergusson (1872, 37) used classical accounts of Caesar’s encounter with the indigenous sailing craft of the Morbihan coast to demonstrate how active these seaways were in the past, and the role they may have played in the transmission of ideas.

While Fergusson gave the sea an important role in his wide ranging antiquarian volume, it was not until the publication of Mackinder’s Britain and British Seas (1902) that we see a more considered, and potentially more influential, academic engagement. In that volume, Mackinder presented a geopolitical history within which explanations of regional differences and historical trajectories can in part be seen to reflect variable geographic and oceanographic conditions. The text is refreshing for the amount of similarity that can be found between his reading and rendering of space and more recent reconsiderations. In Mackinder’s accounts of ocean and sea variability we see glimmers of, for example, Evans’s (2003) concept of ‘texture’, that the specifics of regional environments shape the social histories that play out.

In Mackinder’s mind, Britain’s variable history could in part be seen to reflect four key divisions:

there are thus four natural parts of the sea round Britain. To the east and south are the narrow seas between the islands and the continent. To the southwest is the marine antechamber dividing into channels at the Land’s End. Spreading four square in the midst of the British Kingdoms is the inland Irish Sea; while for six hundred miles off the north-western shores is the border of the ocean (1902, 23).

Each of these seaways is seen to have a specific character, promoting different forms of interaction. From the perspective of the development of the Neolithic, Mackinder noted:

the most significant feature of British geography was not the limitless ocean, but the approach of the south-eastern corner of the islands to within sight of the continent. Kent was the window by which England looked into the great world (1902, 10).

He went on to observe that while the channel had some characteristics of being a barrier, it would also have been freely traversed throughout history. Thus in some senses, Mackinder would not have been surprised to hear the results of research by Whittle et al. (2011) into the date of the earliest Neolithic in Britain, where initial developments appear to occur along this stretch of coastline.

While, for Mackinder, Kent was the window onto the wider world, the remaining three seaways offered different qualities of connectivity and communication. The ‘marine antechamber’ of the western approaches allowed entry into the Irish Sea, a body of water that Mackinder viewed as the ‘British Mediterranean’ (1902, 10). The connecting Celtic sea and St George’s channel to the south (Figure 1.01), and the North Channel and Minch to the north, aided travel along a north–south axis. For Mackinder these waters were about movement and communication, of maritime trade and interaction of a different sort to the short hops across the channel, or the slightly more complex currents of the narrow seas. It is this sense of difference, of a sea that is used in multiple ways, of long distance movement and short distance forays, that stands out from Mackinder’s work. Here we see seeds for similar later ideas, such as those of Fox (1932), Crawford (1936) and Childe (1940). In each of these cases the sea was to take on an important role as both conduit and barrier, depending on the history of the group engaging with it. For Crawford (1936) the Western Seaways were a crucial route for the transmission of ideas, while Childe (1946) envisaged them as being as heavily populated with seafarers as the ethnography of Malinoswski (1922) indicated the contemporary waters of the South Pacific were. Fox suggested that ‘without doubt’ (1932, 20) the western route was the one via which the ‘megalithic culture’ of the Neolithic reached Britain, based on the distribution of monuments along this coastal fringe, seeing the western seaways as a critical vector through which prehistoric social change was enabled. It is perhaps unsurprising that the cover of The Personality of Britain is a map of the coastline of Europe with the seaways prominently represented through strong black arrows.

While we might imagine Mackinder’s ideas to be echoed by his close contemporaries, it is more interesting to note the similarity his ideas have with much later publications. Within Mackinder’s work we see an attention and focus on maritime space in a similar manner to key recent texts which have attempted to re-engage scholars with the sea. Thus, it is possible to draw parallels with Westerdahl’s (1992) ‘maritime cultural landscape’ and Needham’s (2009) ‘maritories’, both defined on oceanographic and social conditions, with an argument made that these physical differences translate into and explain variability in historical processes. The variability of bodies of water, and peoples’ desire to engage with them has thus long been recognised to shape social process. The difficulty lies in understanding how much impact this had, and how to place emphasis within our interpretations.

It can be seen then that, as Callaghan and Scarre (2009, 359) observe, the argument for maritime connections to have existed across the seas around Britain and Ireland has been made for a considerable length of time. While interests may have subtly changed, the issue has now become one of understanding the variable intensity and significance of these connections (as Mackinder argued in 1902). In an effort to provide quantitative boundaries for consideration of these connections, Callaghan and Scarre (2009) conducted a series of seafaring simulations to chart how long journeys from France to Orkney would have taken. For completeness they included rates for both paddling and sailing, with acknowledgement of the fact that there is no direct evidence for sails at this point within north-west Europe. The results indicated that a determined crew could paddle from Brittany to Orkney via south-west Ireland in c. 20 days. This work served to demonstrate how short a timescale might be involved in movement between places if a specific destination was in mind, and a clear purpose to travel established. Within our own previous discussion of maritime connectivity within the western seaways (published prior to the start of the Stepping Stones project: Garrow and Sturt 2011), we suggested that, altogether, the archaeological evidence strongly suggested that people were moving regularly around and across the sea during the 5th and 4th millennia BC. We also highlighted the fact that shorter distance movements might quickly link together to provide a high level of communication.

In their paper Callaghan and Scarre (2009, 259) went on to pose the question ‘did the Western Seaways provide an alternative or independent point of entry for Neolithic domesticates, material culture or indeed colonists from the Continent?’. If we are to take anything away from the 144 years of study this topic has received it is hard to conclude anything other than ‘yes’. However, this is not to say that it was the most important vector, but as Mackinder (1902) argued, it was one route whose influence may have varied through time. Thus, for the islands considered in our study it is likely that interaction over these bodies of water did have a part to play, perhaps as much, or maybe more so at times, than the short hop over the channel through the Kentish window. The challenge lies in accepting the possibility for communication over the sea, and considering it alongside the other routes through which ideas, material culture and people may have circulated. This helps us to move away from a deterministic binary model of social change, where there is a single point of origin and way of being Neolithic. Instead we can draw upon the more complex world that Mackinder drew attention to and consider how multiple strands might have had a role to play.

1.4. The changing palaeogeography of Britain and Ireland

Given the Stepping Stones project’s focus on maritime connectivity and the western seaways, understanding how the land and seascape may have changed over time was a priority. Whilst a considerable amount of research had been carried out into this topic from both a quaternary science (Brooks et al. 2011; Bradley et al. 2011; Shennan and Horton 2002; Shennan et al. 2006; Cohen et al. 2014) and archaeological (Reid 1913; Coles 1998; 1999; Gaffney et al. 2007; 2009) perspective, none of these past studies was at the specific temporal or spatial resolution required to address our research questions. As such a series of palaeogeographic models were created, making use of the latest glacioisostatic adjustment (GIA) model (Bradley et al. 2011) as well as up-to-date topographic and bathymetric data sources. The detailed method for the production of these models was published in Sturt et al. (2013) and the resulting outputs made freely available both through the article and via the Archaeological Data Service.

Fundamental to an understanding of the changing geography of Europe is knowledge of the fact that the sea is not really level, and has no fixed altitude. All references to sea-level are time and space specific, be that in relation to a particular point on the tidal cycle for a given beach, or more broadly the mean altitude for a body of water over a given period of time. Temperature, weather and tidal state all can cause variances to occur. With regard to the more marked changes which have occurred through time, we can see two key forces at work; glacio-isostasy and glacio-eustacy. Isostasy relates to changes in the altitude of the earth’s crust. The principle driver of isostatic changes in north-west Europe is the loading and unloading of the earth’s surface by glaciers (glacio-isostatic change). In effect the weight of growing ice-sheets depresses the ground underneath them, and as they begin to melt and retreat the land rebounds. Eustacy refers to the amount of water in the world’s oceans and seas. Again the key factor which impacts on eustacy is the amount of water locked on land in ice sheets. As temperatures drop and ice sheets grow the amount of water available in liquid form is reduced. Conversely, as they melt the ice sheets release water back into the seas and eustatic values rise. Figure 1.02 provides a eustatic curve for the study area drawn from Bradley et al. (2011). The interplay between these two drivers help to determine relative sea-level for a given point in space and time. The specifics of how this plays out at the site and regional level can be impacted further by other factors (such as the weight of sediment deposited by large rivers loading a relatively small area of the earth’s crust, or tectonics).

Figure 1.02. Eustatic curve for the study area, drawn from Bradley et al. (2011).

Fortunately this process of sea-level variation leaves physical traces in the geological record, through the presence of submerged landscapes, peat deposits and raised beaches. These features can be recorded and dated to create sea-level index points, and the results used to generate a relative sea-level curve for a given area. This record will directly reflect the sea-level history of that specific locale. In turn these records can be collated and broader trends identified. Such work is painstaking and exacting, but has been carried out around the world to great success, and within Britain at frequent points along the coast (Shennan and Horton 2002). Figure 1.03 reproduces relative sea-level curves from different parts of the study area, demonstrating the distinct variability in patterns of sea-level change. However, not all regions retain a sea-level record, and not all areas have been investigated at the level of detailed required to create a robust relative curve. At present within our study region, this remains true of the Channel Islands in particular (although see Goslin et al. 2015 for a record from western Brittany which provides a close proxy).

Data on changes in eustatic values (taken from ice cores and coral reefs) can be combined with isostatic models of the rise and fall of the earth’s crust in response to loading to create models of change through time at a range of scales. These models can be tested and refined through comparison to relative sea-level curves. Through this method it is possible to generate testable models for wide areas, and also to move from well constrained regions to less well known areas. As such, it was an appropriate method to adopt within this project, allowing for analysis at large and small spatial scales, and at temporal resolution of 500 year steps (from 20,000 BP to present day). When isostatic rebound values are matched with eustatic data to model the net changes that have occurred since 9000 BC, it becomes clear that parts of Scotland have been rising over the last 11,000 years (as it rebounds from weight that the glacier had placed on it during the last glacial maximum) while southern England has been slowly submerging.

Figure 1.04 provides an overview of the changes that occurred across the whole study region from 9000 BC to AD 1, drawing on Sturt et al. (2013). The seminal work of Coles (1998) and Gaffney et al. (2007) will mean that many readers are familiar with the most significantly visible changes: specifically the submergence of the North Sea and the loss of a permanent land connection between the continental mainland and Britain c. 9000 years ago has received considerable attention (Coles 1998; Gaffney et al. 2007; Leary 2015). The modelled date for this separation (sometime between 9000 and 8000 years ago) matches well with peat records from the south coast of England (Waller and Kirby 2002) and the Seine Estuary (Frouin et al. 2007) giving a high level of confidence. However, the images given in Figure 1.04 smooth out the process of change. This belies a series of rapid vertical jumps in relative sea-level which are known to have occurred, with the most famous happening 8200 years ago (Hijma and Cohen 2010) where rapid rises of 1–3m are recorded along the Dutch coast.

Figure 1.03. Relative sea-level curves from different parts of the study area. Topographic data from GEBCO14 (www.gebco.net). Sea-level curves from Shennan & Horton 2002.

Figure 1.04. Overview of the changes that occurred across the whole study region from 9000 BC to AD 1. Topographic and bathymetric data from GEBCO14 (www.gebco.net), EMODnet (www.emodnet-bathymetry.eu) and the Ordnance Survey © Crown Copyright and Databse Right 2016. Ordnance Survey (Digimap Licence).

We have argued elsewhere (Sturt et al. 2013; Sturt 2015) that while the overall picture presented in Figure 1.04 is undoubtedly useful, it can also serve to focus attention on what are seen to be ‘big changes’ – on the total area of land lost, or changes in physical connections. However, there is even more to be gained by considering the broader implications, not just the timing and tempo of change, but also its characteristics. For example, the loss of a marshy lowland connection between an island and contemporary mainland may have had less impact than associated behaviours in seaways. Did the process of submergence actually increase communication by easing maritime passage rather than preventing it by creating a barrier?

Furthermore, the reconstructions in Figure 1.04 and the eusatic curve given in Figure 1.02 can lead to an assumption that rapid sea-level change is all that we should be concerned with. It is clear that pan-regional significant changes occurred between 21,000 and 6,000 years ago, but then the absolute rate of vertical rise comparatively slowed. However, this does not mean that in all regions the pace of palaeogeographic change slowed at the same time. For low lying coastal areas, even small amounts of vertical change can lead to large differences. As such, the models we produced were deliberately multiscalar in nature, allowing us to reconsider the specifics of each island group at a higher resolution. The results of this work were highly informative and allowed for an improved understanding of the context within which peoples’ lives played out. As Mackinder (1902) and Fox (1932) recognised, these differences can prove critical to our understanding of how and why archaeological patterns were formed.

Channel Islands

The absence of a robust relative sea-level curve for the Channel Islands, and its impact on our understanding of the archaeological record, was clearly articulated by Sebire and Renouf (2010). In order to address this issue they pulled together as robust a dataset as possible to allow for discussion of the most significant changes that would have occurred. Advances in computational modelling and the increasing access to higher resolution bathymetric and topographic datasets now allows for this problem to be tackled from a different direction (Sturt et al. 2013; Conneller et al. 2016). Before moving on to to describe the results from our models it is important to highlight a few caveats. First, these models are based on current topography and bathymetry (with data drawn from the states of Guernsey and Jersey, General Bathymetric Chart of the Oceans (www.gebco.net) and the European Marine Observation and Data Network (www.emodnet.eu/bathymetry)). This means that they do not account for erosion and sedimentation that has occurred over the period modelled. This can lead to significant variations, with large Holocene sandbanks (generated by marine processes) leading to ‘false islands’ being seen in the larger dataset visualised in Figure 1.04. Second, the time steps within the models smooth out change, meaning that although a timeslice might be given for 9000 BP, the changes may have occurred rapidly at the beginning of that time step, or slowly over its course. Thus the dates of change are broadly indicative. In essence, these models are good to think with and show the extent of change, but would always benefit from being ground-truthed and refined.

The paleogeographic story of the Channel Islands is interesting for the differences it reveals (Figure 1.05). As Sebire and Renouf (2010, 376) hypothesised, and has been argued elsewhere (Sturt et al. 2013; Conneller et al. 2016; Garrow and Sturt 2017) it appears likely that Guernsey separated from the mainland of France at sometime between 9000 and 8000 BC. At this point Guernsey and Herm are joined, forming the island of ‘Greater Guernsey’. Similarly Alderney is larger in size, but now an island off the North French coast. At this time the intervening seas would have been shallow with large areas of inter-tidal zone. Greater Guernsey appears to break up c. 5000 BC, but was still probably connected through an inter-tidal link until at least 4000 BC. Work by Cazenave (2012, 243) indicates that tidal ranges at this time in this area may have been smaller, but perhaps not significantly so (a reduction of c. 1m). In contrast, Jersey appears to have remained connected until c. 5500 BC, with an inter-tidal link possibly persisting for longer. Recent work by Conneller et al. (2016, 36) also indicates a date of separation at this time. This variable process may well have impacted on the social trajectories of island activity. To be clear, we are not arguing that the process of becoming an island led to isolation, but it may have helped shape the types of activity and the nature of communication that occurred.

Isles of Scilly

Until very recently (Charman et al. 2016), the relative sea-level record for the Isles of Scilly was less robust than more heavily-studied regions along the coast of mainland Britain. This is despite the fact that it represents one of the most visible submerged landscapes in the British Isles, with its clear shallow waters allowing visitors to see submerged field systems between the islands of Samson and Tresco. So apparent are these features that they formed the subject of the very first article in the leading archaeological journal Antiquity (Crawford 1927). While visiting the islands for a holiday Crawford described ‘one of those thrilling moments which occasionally occur in the life of an Archaeologist. Here before us was tangible proof that the land had sunk since prehistoric times’ (1927, 6).

Figure 1.05. Channel Islands palaeogeography. Topographic and bathymetric data from GEBCO14 (www.gebco.net) and EMODnet (www.emodnet-bathymetry.eu) and Digimap Guernsey and Digimap Jersey.

These early observations were not acted on in a more concerted manner until Thomas (1985) drew attention back to the islands, their archaeology and its relationship to sea-level. Subsequent work by Ratcliffe and Straker (1996) provided more detailed understanding of the nature of environmental and sea-level change, with much needed radiocarbon dates providing a more secure chronological framework from which models could be created. Most recently, work by Perez (2013; Perez et al. 2015) and Charman et al. (2016) as part of the Lyonesse Project (commissioned by Historic England) has further transformed our understanding, providing 67 new radiocarbon and ten optically stimulated luminescence (OSL) dates (Marshall et al. 2016, 89). These data allowed Charman et al. (2016, 193) to generate a range of palaeogeographic outputs. Significantly the additional sea-level index points gained through this project conform well to the relative sea-level curve generated from the GIA model in our own, adding confidence to the interpretations given below.

In Figure 1.06, the point that absolute rates of vertical sea-level rise do not dictate the extent of palaeogeographic change is amply bourn out. The granite batholith from which Scilly is sculpted rises sharply from the sea, then forms a low lying plateau. Sea-level rise through the early Holocene had comparatively little impact until c. 6000 BC when the single larger island begins to break up. What follows is a slow submergence, and increase in the area of the inter-tidal zone until the modern island of St Mary’s breaks off from its more northerly neighbours c. 2500 BC. The most dramatic changes in landscape configuration then occur through the Bronze and Iron Ages over which time the islands begin to take on the form that we recognise today.

This pattern, and that shown in the broader UK wide palaeogeography (Figure 1.04), is significant for the record we uncovered at Old Quay (Chapter 3). As we have discussed previously (Anderson-Whymark et al. 2015, 958), c. 14,000 years ago the Isles of Scilly were a single large island, the end of an archipelago that spread out from Land’s End. By 11,000 BC this archipelago had drastically reduced in size, but a chain of islands between Lands End and Scilly remained. The intermediate islands slowly reduce in size until c. 6000 BC when there is clear water between Scilly and mainland Britain. The former islands would have formed highly noticeable reefs (as they do today) and inter-tidal islets.

Outer Hebrides

Figure 1.07 demonstrates how variably the processes of sea-level change have played out. In comparison to the two previous island groups, the Outer Hebrides and northwest Scotland more generally have received considerable attention (Shennan and Horton 2002), due to the direct impact of glaciation and the nature of the environmental record preserved on the islands. For this region, the most significant changes occur over the earlier part of the Holocene, with a large coastal plain stretching south from modern Harris at 9000 BC. This larger landmass begins to reduce in size and break up until 4000 BC when the pace of change slows.

During the Neolithic, the models indicate a large intertidal zone and extensive coastal strip down the west coast of South Uist. However, as explained in Section 4.9, these renderings of the past coastline need to be treated with caution. The formation of machair and the rolling coastal dune system will have radically altered its shape. As such, it is possible, indeed probable, that the more extensive coastal plain existed for a longer period of time.

Summary

Within all of the above it is all too easy to focus on the land alone and let the sea recede into the background. Each of the maps discussed here (and presented in more detail, and in colour, in Sturt