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
