Wednesday 2 January 2013

Gothvos Godhvos


Needles of Time Author Tom
TEMPEL
Temple Church is a place I've visited fairly often, the associations with the Knights Templars and the Hospitaliers as well as Temple Churches former reputation as a "Gretna Green" type of facility offering ex officio marriage ceremonies and burial rites to victims of suicide or the unbaptized dead helps to support a notion that the location is a place for solace and contemplation, this is reinforced by Temple Villages moorland otherness, the hamlet is more or less a farm. I've put a link to the Needles of Time authors book published in the late seventies I've done this because in broad terms I agree with some of the geomancy ideas of which I'm sure there will be further questions from me. In the present context I'm interested in Temple as a wayside facility on a former track used most notably to move Tin from Damnonian mines on Dartmoor to the safety and eventual dispatch by sea from Damnonian sea ports on each coast of Modern Kernow.

KOWSIC GOTHVOS

Above Two Bridges near the Warren Inn situated around 2.5 km (1.6 mi) north east of Princetown on the old turnpike road which was built across Dartmoor in the late 18th century (now known as the B3212).
A map dated 1765 suggests the origin of the name, for in those days the road crossed both the West Dart and the River Cowsic, just upstream from the point where they meet, and required two separate bridges possibly a remnant of national border fluctuations as saxon Devon pushed further west into Kernow.
By 1891, these had disappeared and there was just a single bridge, further downstream, over the West Dart. Today, however, there are again two bridges on the site, because a more modern structure has been added alongside its earlier predecessor, to carry moor traffic.In the 18th century, Two Bridges was commonly known for its potato market. The site was no doubt chosen because it is in a central location, and easily accessible on what was then, and still is now, a serviceable road across Dartmoor. Some small quarries in the vicinity show that there was also quarrying industry in the area.


BLUE CARN GOTHVOS ST.MARY'S ISLES OF SCILLY.



TRYTHAL GOTHVOS

A Grankan, a grankan,
a mean ow gowaz o vean
ondez Parc an Venton
pub trelowza vean
Far Penzans a Maragow
Githack Mackrow
a mac trelowza varrack.
A poem recorded by listening to John Davey b.1812 St.Just. d.1891 Boswednack written down by J.Hobson Matthews and published in his History of St.Ives 1892.
Despite the insistence by some that first language or native Cornish Language died with Dolly Pentreath or William Bodener these events occurred a century earlier than John Davey's oration of his own poetry.
O Crankan! O Crankan!
On the rock thou hast but little
Further than the Well Field
That will grow three sprouts to each stone
The Penzance and Market Jew road
Is vastly more green and vastly more fresh
And will nourish three sprouts to each rider.
*

An evening on St.Agnes Beacon towards St.Ives.
An Gwlascarer - A.S.D. Smith
Ny allaf-vy kewsel Kernewek
Ny allaf y scryfa ha whath
Re gales yu tavas mar uthek
Predery anodho a-m-lath!
The Patriot by A S D Smith
I cannot speak Cornish
I cannot write it either
Such a terrible language is too hard
It kills me to think about it.

Looking towards St.Agnes from Carn Marth



Ludgvan Gothvos a longer interlude.



STONE AXE STUDIES, VOLUME III Edited by Vin Davis and Mark Edmonds
Oxbow Books,  2011, 444pp, many colour and black and white illustrations, tables, ISBN 978-1-84217-421-0, hb, £48

Stone Axe Studies Volume III (SAS III) has largely sprung from a symposium held in York in 2007 and is a welcome addition to a somewhat erratic series (no glacial pun intended; cf Clough & Cummins 1979; Clough & Cummins 1988), produced firstly under the auspices of the Implement Petrology Committee, but latterly by the Implement Petrology Group under the steer of the indefatigable Vin Davis who should be congratulated on such a beautifully produced and useful book.

The book is divided into thirteen sections each of two or three chapters, and curiously to this reviewer, most begin with an un-attributed word sketch or cameo that appears to be quite random in nature and a tad pretentious.  However, the quality of the papers and the presentation of the book more than makes up for this slight aberration.

The introduction by Vin Davis and Mark Edmonds sets the scene for the 27 chapters which present research focussed particularly upon stone axe blades (an approach which complements the original web-based symposium proceedings which have a wider remit).  SAS III focuses upon Europe primarily, but with brief forays into India, Australia, the Middle East and New Guinea, thus providing useful comparative material.  The scale of the research ranges from single artefact types such as the Nøstvet axe with its relatively restricted distribution in Scandinavia, to the big hitters such as the Alpine axeheads and their extensive Europe-wide dispersal.  There are also wide-ranging reviews from axe hafting systems recorded at certain lakeside settlements in the French Jura, to the issue of axe size in Orkney, as well as   an update on the Irish Stone Axe Project. 

The introduction rightly (in this reviewer’s opinion) outlines the overarching focus for the majority of the papers and this is  to take  stone axe research beyond typologies and lithologies and into the realm of contextualisation: what were the biographies of these tools and what did they mean to the communities who made and used them?  The identification of sources is clearly an important element in understanding the distribution patterns and trade/exchange networks – which in the case of the UK and Ireland was extensively explored in the first two SAS volumes.  The current volume seeks to take research beyond sourcing and typologies and explore the social context of these tools.  The book is packed with useful research so only a selection can be discussed in any detail in this review.

In western Norway, Bergsvik and Østmo discuss the presence of TRB axes which originated in southern Scandinavia and appear to have been distributed along the coast via the Oslo fjord.  The axes recovered from secure contexts were deposited in graves and settlement sites and were found in both unused and worn conditions.  This situation is paralleled with contemporary adzes.  It would seem that Neolithic acculturation struggled to gain influence in this region before the appearance of the TRB culture when these axes were introduced as special artefacts into the hunter/fisher lifeway, and became instrumental in refocusing communities inland and into the forested areas, as part of the technological package which introduced small-scale agriculture to the region.  However, importantly, most TRB axes had not been used and few were deposited at settlements; most seem to have been found buried at elevated locations.  Clearly here we can see the influence of the introduction of a new form of axe – alongside a suite of novel life-style concepts – which has led to profound social change in this part of Scandinavia.  Interestingly, during the preceding Late Mesolithic period, Nøstvet axeheads may have been associated with canoe construction in the environs of the Oslo fjord; therefore the infrastructure was probably in place to facilitate the distribution of the TRB axes along the coastline and river networks – one axe type creating the foundations for the distribution of another later type.

Pétrequin and co-authors provide another aspect of their continuing research on jadeitite sources  with an analysis of colour choices facing the users of Alpine axes.  Although the generalities of the story behind the eclogite and jadeitite axes will be familiar to many through the preliminary publications of the innovative and influential Programme Jade, this paper explores the largely separate distributions of the axes crafted from these differently coloured rocks.  The background to the 5th- 4th millennium BC exploitation of these rare raw materials in the Mont Viso and Mont Beigua massif has been rehearsed elsewhere, and the fact that these axes were circulated up to 1056 miles (1700 km) from their source.  However, the nuanced facts behind the familiar story make interesting reading.  The first utilitarian Alpine axeheads were largely non-jadeitite types, which were circulated to the north and west; jadeitite and omphacitite were reserved for small tranchet axes and stone rings.  By the mid-5th millennium BC jadeitite had become the dominant raw material and was used for 95% of all Alpine axes found between the Alps and the Gulf of Morbihan – although curiously northern Italy appears to have been excluded from this distribution.  The north-westerly circulation eventually progressed onto the Atlantic fringes of Europe.  This project has also discovered a duality in use/deposition patterns whereby certain jadeitite axes were purely functional but others were reserved for ritualised deposition at special places in the landscape or in tombs, especially in the Carnac region where axes prominently figure in local rock art.  It is interesting to speculate upon the role of the communities inhabiting the Gulf of Morbihan and their part in initiating, or certainly sponsoring, the increasing desire to possess exotic Alpine axes to the extent that local imitations in flint and other stones proliferated.

The Carnac region also produced evidence for a phase of secondary re-working of Alpine axes, which were found to have been re-polished in the Morbihan and then put back into the distribution network where they were transported in all directions, even back to the Alps, Italy and Croatia.  This secondary re-distribution may then have stimulated the shaping and  style of the large decorated stelae.  However, the secondary re-distribution of axes is comparatively light in these regions and almost non-existent in the Iberian peninsula.  As the authors suggest, the distribution pattern of the various types of axe, and their density, must reflect differing social contexts across Europe, but that some level of commonality existed surrounding the special nature of the Alpine axes which clearly underpinned important ritualised belief systems and social narratives.  Alongside the typo-chronological model presented by the authors, there is much here to ponder and stimulate new debate on the contexts of procurement, production, and the varied exchange, distribution and final deposition of these axeheads.  Overall, Programme Jade sets a new benchmark for the study of axes, and it is to be hoped that others might follow this lead.

Brumm discusses the symbolism which underpins the production and exchange of edge-ground axes in southeastern Australia – an axe type which has been used in this area for some 5000 years for woodworking and procuring wild resources such as honey and possums.  The raw material for these axes originated from both secondary sources and outcrops, and axes crafted from the latter sources were distributed more than 620 miles [1000km] from the outcrops, demonstrating the social value embedded in certain tools.   The mechanisms for such artefact movements are exemplified by the Mount William greenstone quarries where long-distance gift exchange was undertaken between interrelated groups – thus providing material evidence of social relations, kinship links and alliances.  At Mount William the local clans provided a hereditary custodian who lived at the quarries and controlled access and exchange via strict protocols; the custodians were also given safe passage through all clan lands – an interesting model perhaps for the movement of Alpine jadeitite axes? (but without year-round dwelling at the high altitude quarries!).  These Aboriginal custodians were responsible for maintaining the linkages between the creationary beliefs of the Dreaming and the stone sources.  In particular, many of these beliefs describe the importance of axe-wielding Ancestral Beings and their role both in sculpting the topography of the landscape and the perception within some communities that axes were integral to the maintenance of mythical props which held up the sky.

Such social contextualisation is often ignored in European prehistory as most hypotheses relating to extraction sites and their products focus upon economic drivers or technical analyses and not what axes might ‘mean’,.  How many authors still refer to ‘factories’, for instance, or other such loaded terminology?  The fact that ethnographic records describe the creation and use of many stone tools or other artefacts produced from exotic sources specifically to underpin social rather than economic networks, is a rallying call for more holistic analysis – as suggested by the editors in the introduction.

Ballin describes recent fieldwork at the surprisingly extensive felsite quarries of North Roe on Shetland.  Often overlooked previously, these quarries are now recognised as one of the UK’s largest extraction sites.  The felsite outcrops are located in the northwestern part of the archipelago and are at their most intensive at the Beorgs of Uyea.  This raw material was primarily exploited for the production of axeheads and the eponymous Shetland knives during the Early/Late Neolithic transition.  Interestingly, and like so many other quarries, only roughouts were produced on site in workshop areas.  A number of putative Neolithic houses and shelters intermingle with the quarries.  It is clear from this project that different types of felsite were chosen for specific artefacts (similarities here with jadeitite?), and this deliberate selection implies that varying cultural values were being placed on each source.  Curiously, despite this level of sophistication, it would appear that no felsite artefacts were transported off the islands, and conversely very few non-local examples entered the archipelago exchange network.  Such apparent material culture ‘protectionism’ clearly implies strict conventions or taboos in place which relate to the exploitation of raw materials and the production and exchange of implements on or into the Shetland Isles.  This study provides a neat counter-point to the well-rehearsed story of the equally extensive Langdale axe quarries and their widely distributed axeheads in north-west mainland Britain.  

In the Seine Valley, Giligny and co-researchers have studied the trade and exchange of axeheads in the region and have discovered that the earliest stages of manufacture occurred at workshop sites or at settlements close to the mines.  The roughouts were then transported up to 30+km from the sources.  In this region distribution patterns were influenced by the availability of raw material – tertiary flint is more prevalent south of the Seine a marked contrast with the north where secondary deposits dominate alongside a greater proportion of imported exotics such as Armorican dolerites.  Part of this distribution pattern is explained by the fewer flint mines to the north of the river, which presumably stimulated the reliance on secondary deposits.  Similar values may have been embedded in the imported Group B Armorican axes originating from Le Pinacle (Jersey) and Plussulien (Brittany) which form the largest components in the assemblages south of the Seine and those to the northwest framed by the Seine and Epte, and still comprise the second largest element in the northeastern assemblages.  Consequently, the Seine and its tributaries may have acted as a form of psychological barrier to the northerly movement of axes from flint mines located in the south.  Conversely, however, the river network was clearly being used to facilitate the long-distance movement of special types of axes such as the aforementioned Armorican examples, and those from the Italian Alps.  Interestingly, Seine Valley axes are also found in Armorica, implying some form of reciprocal exchange.  Clearly this project is throwing light on a complex distribution pattern which contrasts the movement of local with non-local axeheads.  Hopefully the next stages of this project will further elucidate the chronology of the flint mines and explore their relationships with the workshops and the settlements to add more detail to this interesting example of the social context of axe production and distribution in this part of France.

Davis and Edmonds provide a review of recent work on the Langdale Group VI axes from Cumbria and confirm that the quarries were exploited primarily for roughouts, but that there was some variability in production between individual quarries which might reflect social or technical constraints.  In southern Scandinavia Larsson describes the special uses of axes from their crafting (often at enclosures) to structured deposition in megalithic tombs, deposition in bogs or transformation by fire as a prelude to deposition.  At Mynydd Rhiw in North Wales, Burrow has demonstrated that the extraction of the tufaceous sediments occurred over a much larger area than previously recognised, some 7.75ha, but curiously there is little evidence currently for much product having been exported off-site.  At the opposite extreme of the Welsh spectrum, Williams and colleagues discuss the widely distributed Group VII axes from Graig Lwyd and the use/deposition patterns that have recently emerged at the nearby excavations at Parc Bryn Cegin, Llandygai, Gwynedd, and how this data is being used to enhance our understanding of the chronology of the quarry site.  This chronology suggests that Graig Lwyd was exploited for much of the Neolithic period and that its products were subjected to deliberate reduction or fragmentation sequences at certain points in time, particularly immediately before deposition, and that many of these deliberately modified or broken axes were then placed in pits as a final stage in their individual biographies.

Maigrot describes the analysis of Middle/Late Neolithic axe hafting systems discovered at the lakeside settlements in the French Jura.  Of interest here is the use of intermediate antler sleeves to hold the smaller axeheads securely in their wooden hafts.  Interestingly, these settlements had developed and increased in number at a climatic upturn, which coincidentally appears to have impacted upon deer populations thus reducing both the numbers of animals and the quality of the harvested antler.  Consequently, sleeve manufacture had to adapt and increased recycling of used antler sleeves over time is marked.

On Orkney, Clarke has studied axes both from recently excavated assemblages and newly accessible stray finds.  This has led to the recognition that the sizes of axe blades could be determined by use, and that those recovered at chambered tombs or from ‘special deposits’, were distinctly larger than those found on settlement sites.  In both general contexts the axes were often found on floors, which in the case of the tombs may have been a ritualised act, whereas at the settlements such locations may simply reflect accessible storage.  Curiously, the source of indigenous Orcadian axes remains unknown – perhaps an interesting future post-graduate project ?

Field presents a timely review of axe distribution from central southern England and has discovered through careful analysis (surprisingly no such research has yet taken place in Wessex) that the mouth of the River Avon is a key location to understanding the movement of axes in Wessex.  He also wisely points out that our knowledge of the development and obscuring of the early Wessex landscape may have led to river valleys being overlooked as important locations for early Neolithic activity.  Yet another interesting project idea ?

Pétrequin and Pétrequin provide a salutary lesson from New Guinea and present a series of interpretative models of axe production, use and what axeheads ‘mean’ to people based upon their 21 years of fieldwork.  The authors emphasise the dynamics of the social role of axes, and how they are perceived by their contemporary users as a material metonym which recreates and symbolises themselves.  They have found that technical products cannot always be divorced from ritual acts which create socially valorised tools that embody cultural imagery.  In New Guinea the axeheads are perceived as already existing within the bedrock of the ‘Axe Mountains’ – the manufacturers and ritual specialists simply free them from these sedimented bodies of the Primordial Beings, much like the ethnography of Aboriginal Australia (see above).  In New Guinea an extreme example of ritualised behaviour occurs at the Awigobi quarries where some polished axeheads are dressed in a miniature skirt with pendants which have been crafted from the fur of the tree kangaroo to transform the axe into a ‘woman of stone’.  Such unusual records are reminiscent of the tchamajillas of the Native American Puebloan communities which are symbolically fed milk and rocked like a baby (cf. Topping 2005, 89), and remind archaeologists of the interpretative difficulties in analysing the true contexts of apparently mundane, functional tools.  This paper provides much food for thought.

Overall, this is a useful and important book which should be read by everyone interested in early material culture and the production and use of axes and what they might have meant to their contemporary communities.


References

Clough, THMcK & Cummins, WA (eds) 1979.  Stone Axe Studies.  London: Council for British Archaeology Research Report 23.

Clough, THMcK & Cummins, WA (eds) 1988.  Stone Axe Studies: Volume 2.  London: Council for British Archaeology Research Report 67.

Topping, P 2005.  Shaft 27 Revisited: an Ethnography of Neolithic Flint Extraction.  In Topping, P and Lynott, M (eds) The Cultural Landscape of Prehistoric Mines.  Oxford: Oxbow Books.  63-93.

Pete Topping
English Heritage
January 2012


The views expressed in this review are not necessarily those of the Society or the Reviews Editor





No comments:

Post a Comment