Fields of Conflict: Progress and Prospect in Battlefield Archaeology: Proceedings of a conference held in the Department of Archaeology, University of Glasgow, April 2000 9781407353074, 9781841712499

Table of contents :
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Introduction
Ancient Warfare
Medieval Warfare
Warfare in North America
Warfare in the Modern Era
The Research, Preservation and Management of Battlefield Sites
Other Abstracts
Contributors Addresses

Citation preview

BAR  S958  2001   FREEMAN & POLLARD (Eds.)   FIELDS OF CONFLICT

Fields of Conflict: Progress and Prospect in Battlefield Archaeology Proceedings of a conference held in the Department of Archaeology University of Glasgow, April 2000 Edited by

P. W. M. Freeman A. Pollard

BAR International Series 958 9 781841 712499

B A R

2001

Fields of Conflict: Progress and Prospect in Battlefield Archaeology Proceedings of a conference held in the Department of Archaeology University of Glasgow, April 2000 Edited by

P. W. M. Freeman A. Pollard

BAR International Series 958 2001

Published in 2016 by BAR Publishing, Oxford BAR International Series 958 Fields

if Conflict: Progress and Prospect in Battlefield

Archaeology

© The editors and contributors severally and the Publisher 2001 The authors' moral rights under the 1988 UK Copyright, Designs and Patents Act are hereby expressly asserted. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be copied, reproduced, stored, sold, distributed, scanned, saved in any form of digital format or transmitted in any form digitally, without the written permission of the Publisher.

ISBN 9781841712499 paperback ISBN 9781407353074 e-format DOI https://doi.org/10.30861/9781841712499 A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library BAR Publishing is the trading name of British Archaeological Reports (Oxford) Ltd. British Archaeological Reports was first incorporated in 197 4 to publish the BAR Series, International and British. In 1992 Hadrian Books Ltd became part of the BAR group. This volume was originally published by Archaeopress in conjunction with British Archaeological Reports (Oxford) Ltd/ Hadrian Books Ltd, the Series principal publisher, in 2001. This present volume is published by BAR Publishing, 2016.

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Contents

Introduction Philip FREEMAN Introduction: issues concerning the archaeology of battlefields.

1

Ancient warfare John W. I. LEE Urban combat at Olynthos, 348 BC.

11

Jon COULSTON The archaeology of Roman conflict.

23

Medieval warfare Patrick J.F. PARSONS Flodden Field: the sources and archaeology of' a marvelouse greate conjlicte '.

51

Effie PHOTOS-JONES 'Made in Scotland?' Sword making in Scotland in the Cl 5th and Cl 6th in the context of recent archaeological evidence.

61

Colin MARTIN Before the battle: undeployed battlefield weaponry from the Spanish Armada, 1588.

73

GlennFOARD The archaeology of attack: battles and sieges of the English Civil War.

87

Paul COURTNEY The archaeology of the early-modem siege.

105

Warfare in North America Lawrence E. BABITS "Book Archaeology" of the Cowpens battlefield.

117

Jake IVEY The defenses of The Alamo as found by archaeology.

127

Charles M. HAECKER The official explanation versus the archaeological record of a US-Mexican War battle.

135

William B. LEE Reconnecting with the hallowed ground of the American Civil War.

143

Martha TEMKIN Guns or ploughshares: significance and a Civil War agricultural landscape.

159

Christopher D. ADAMS and Diane E. WHITE Archaeological views of the Mescalero Apache Indian War period of the American south-west.

169

Douglas G. SCOTT Battlefield archaeology: patterns of combat in the American Indian War.

177

Gerald R. GATES Relocating the 'Battle of Scorpion Point'. A Passport in Time Project - 1998.

201

Warfare in the modern era Viveka LONDAHL, Neil PRICE & Graham ROBINS Bomarsund: archaeology and heritage management at the site of a Crimean War siege.

207

Tony POLLARD 'Place Ekowe in a state of defence': the archaeological investigation of the British fort at KwaMondi, Eshowe, Zululand.

229

Peter DOYLE Geology as an interpreter of Great War battle sites.

237

Vincent HOLYOAK Airfields as battlefields, aircraft as an archaeological resource: British military aviation in the first half of the C20th.

253

Michael J. ANDERTON The Battle for Britain: WWII and the larger than life battlefield.

265

The research, preservation & management of battlefield sites Natalie BULL and David PANTON Conservation of historic battlefield terrain: drafting the Vimy Charter.

269

John and Patricia CARMAN 'Beyond military archaeology': battlefields as a research resource.

275

Lynn DORE Once the war is over.

283

Ann MacSWEEN Preserving Scotland's battlefields: powers, practices and possibilities.

291

Other abstracts

297

Contributors addresses

301

11

Introduction: issues concerning the archaeology of battlefields Phil Freeman

Preamble

Origins of the Conference

Battlefield archaeology, the archaeology of battlefields ? A non-subject. You can't excavate a battlefield. They're too big. Anyway, nothing is ever left on them after the dead have been stripped and buried and the flotsam and other detritus cleared, if not left to rot. Leave it to the military historian. Enjoy the battlefield walk. It's not a respectable subject with which to be involved. It's morbid. It has shades of militarism and is more the realm of the wargamer and re-enactment buff. And what is there to see when you visit the site ? Places like Hastings, Bannockburn and Culloden might be packaged for the tourist but the emphasis is on the visitors' centre because there's bugger all to see in the field. And what of the nonpackaged sites ? One field, some trees perhaps a few grazing cattle and a battered Ministry of Works plaque informing you that this was site of the Battle ofX, 1521.

The origins of the conference go back to a conversation in a pub between the editors (hereafter PF and TP) in Christmas 1998. A press release at that time reported that TP was to embark on fieldwork in South Africa in the next year - work which is now reported here. In the meantime PF had a developing interest in the subject of archaeology and battlefields, an interest that had been encouraged a few years back by the early reports about the work at the Little Big Hom site. In exchanging information about what they knew was being done in the field of military archaeology, along with the names of people they had never met, they came to the conclusion that they might try and organise a get-together, may be a day long workshop, to flush out others working in the subject. As the beer went down, the plans became grander. It is to his credit that TP agreed to take on the organisation of the event and put out the initial notices concerning our plans on the WWW. It is fair to say that we were overwhehned by the responses we received. Particularly gratifying were the number of inquiries received from overseas and the fact that the majority of those who indicated an interest in the conference with offers of presentations honoured their original offers. Their reports compliment those of a number of Scottish and English researchers as well as others from Europe. The range of papers offered stretched from the C4th BC through to WWII and geographically, from Mexico to Russia and South Africa.

These are common responses from both archaeologists and military historians that one receives when enthusing about the potential of battlefield studies. Just how misunderstood the subject is can be gauged by perusal of the militaria shelves in bookshops. It is stunning to find the number and range of publications to be found in the Military History sections of the average bookseller, yet rarely does the archaeology of the subject ever feature in such publications (eg. Hohnes 2001). The situation is as bad when one consults any of the major textbooks on archaeological methods, landscape interpretation and Cultural Resource Management (CRM). However, recent experience demonstrates that battlefield archaeology is concerned with the 'sharp end' of the sort of issues and questions confronting other facets of the discipline. Indeed, once one gets past the initial glazed look or the rolling of the eyeballs as you try to explain the myriad of issues that a detached look at what the archaeology of battlefields might have to offer about our collective past, the reaction is usually "Yes, I suppose that is interesting". One would like to believe that this is the sort of reaction which influenced many of those who attended the conference presented here. The papers published in these proceedings are the outcome of a conference held at the University of Glasgow in April 2000 co-hosted by the Dept. of Archaeology and the Scottish Centre for War Studies there and the School of Archaeology, Classics and Oriental Studies at the University of Liverpool. That conference was the first, certainly in Great Britain, to be held on this subject. Its nearest equivalent has been The Terrain in Military History conference held at the Chatham campus of the University of Greenwich in January 2000 (Doyle & Bennett forthc. ). Otherwise there is little else, certainly in the context of the UK, to report.

What did we expect to result from the meeting ? At the risk of causing offence, what we did not want it to become was a war-gamers festival, where archaeology became merely an adjunct to military history. It is true that archaeological evidence might assist in resolving questions which have perplexed military historians ( as we will see), but what we wanted to emphasise was the unique contribution that archaeology can make to explaining actions (individual and corporate) and reactions to a range of experiences which, for better or worse, define us as humans: that is our propensity to use violence to resolve situations. How humans behave when placed in those situations and how we interpret and preserve such experiences in the aftermath was also of concern. In broadcasting the lessons we might take from these subjects we hoped that there would be a cross-fertilisation of ideas from a panel of scholars who variously work in different countries, different periods, on different themes and out of different traditions. That said, we are all bound by the belief that contrary to what has been said in the past, battlefields and their ilk represent a massively under-used and misunderstood resource for explaining and presenting the past.

Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

Why battlefield archaeology ? Why are battlefields 'fashionable' now ? There are perhaps three contributory elements: militaria, the heritage industry coupled with tourism and, more recently, archaeology. For almost as long as there has been writing there has been a literature of warfare and in tum an interest not only in its (tactical) execution but in its realities and history. An increasing number of milestone anniversaries encourages this interest. With regard to heritage, battlefields are excellent examples of that chimera 'heritage': the belief that because a site has a past, it is immediately 'sacred' and has to be preserved, even if those facts are not instantly evident or else tum out to be illusionary. In the UK there was the controversy regarding proposals to develop parts of a number of battlefields which has brought battlefields into the general domain of the 'destruction of our heritage'. In much the same way the tourist industry is increasingly offering tours to the sites of WWI and other conflicts and theatres, aided in part by a series of significant 'anniversaries' and the disappearance of those generations who served in the conflicts of the C20th. In Britain the popularity of such tours dates back to the 'pilgrimages' organised to France and Belgium after that war and the enduring spiritual association with these sites; their significance is enhanced by the British tradition of burying the dead close to the site where they fell. Similarly the sites of WWII, Korea and even Vietnam have become places of 'pilgrimage'. In these instances sites may be relevant to the immediate past of the visitor where they, family or friends served. The third development in battlefield studies has been the introduction of archaeology, the subject of these proceedings, which endeavours to explore and clarify details about particular sites and events as well as how the information is presented and disseminated. That archaeology has become relevant is almost entirely the product of the aforementioned factors allied to the relatively recent shift to a concern with landscapes.

Battlefields in general are very much in the public eye. That the subject is fashionable is reflected in the popularity of such (British) television series as War Walks and the inevitable follow-up publications (Holmes 1996; 1997: Featherstone 1998). And more broadcasts are imminent. Yet it remains one of those curious mysteries that for all recent developments in the theory, management and practice of archaeological fieldwork the exploration of battlefields and other places of human conflict have been ignored by archaeologists in the UK. Despite the success of a number of archaeological projects in the US, it is curious that battlefield archaeology has not had much of a profile in mainstream archaeology given the military background of many early archaeologists and their preoccupation with historical events. Perusal of so-called 'textbooks' on archaeological method, landscape interpretation and CRM shows that they singularly fail to make even passing reference to the results of wellpublished projects like the Custer/Little Big Hom site. Part of the problem is the misconception that sites are tidied-up soon after the fighting has ended, once the looting is over (Fox & Scott 1991: 92 citing Noel Hume 1969). There would thus be little prospect of finding anything which would shed light. But this is not always so. What adds to the sense of a lack of appreciation of what battlefield archaeology can do is that warfare has long been an aspect of archaeological study. With a long history of the study of arms, armour and fortifications, the subject of human violence and aggression has always been an area of vibrant research (eg. Carman 1997; Carman & Harding 1999). But such research has focussed on the art of war - and the evidence for its execution, note the voluminous literature on ancient warfare (eg. Humble 1980; Connolly 1981; Hackett 1989; Hanson 1999) - rather than the evidence of its experience. In a later context, these deficiencies are demonstrated by the format of Holmes' War Walks, where there was little or no reference to what archaeology might reveal about the various engagements described. Holmes' semi-detached topographic, but in a non-archaeological sense, approach typifies much of the literature of British battlefield guides (eg. Barrett 1896; Brooke 1857; George 1895; Burne 1950; 1952; Fairbairn 1983; Guise & Guise 1996; Seymour 1979). It would be fair to say that this sort of literature has been driven by the work of (military) historians with an eye for the documentary records perhaps allied to their understanding of topography drawn from the same sources. What they are not are archaeologists. Still mainstream archaeology seems to be losing out in these developments when in fact it is the discipline par excellence for the exploration of topography as well as the human reaction to the kind of defining experience that the majority of us will never see. That said the situation is changing due in part to a number of developments and contemporary issues. That the subject has become more fashionable may be attributed to some of the trends noted below and to a more general shift in archaeological theory, one which tends to emphasise individual experience and the exploration of space and spatial relationships.

Although warfare has long been (and continues to be) a subject of archaeological study (viz. antiquarian and typological), it is fact that archaeologists (in Europe) have been slow to appreciate the potential of studying battlefields. Some of the papers presented here hint at earlier archaeological-antiquarian research on British battlefields. But undoubtedly the greatest progress in the subject has been made in the United States. This fact can be seen in the way that many of the papers here refer to the results from the 'mother' of recent battlefield projects Richard A. Fox's Archaeology, History and Custer's Last Battle (1993). Fox's work was clearly a major contribution to the history of US - Indian military affairs. But it is the element of archaeology and battlefields that is relevant here. What Fox demonstrated was the potential quality of the information which might be extracted from the investigation of such sites as well as their susceptibility to theoretical modelling. To those with an interest in battlefields, it is clear that the subject lies at the heart of any number of crises currently faced by practical archaeology and archaeological and

2

Phil Freeman: Introduction: issues concerning the archaeology of battlefields

heritage issues. It remains to demonstrate this to the greater archaeological fraternity. In the UK we seem to be going through the same process of realisation with regard to the significance of battlefield archaeology as occurred in the US 20 years ago. There the protection and preservation of battlefields is much more advanced although it has to be said that the developments have been occasioned more by recent events than by longer-term appreciation of what survives. Although recent work in the US leads the way in this respect, the systematic archaeological investigation of battlefields has in fact been a relatively recent development. Up until the Little Big Hom project, Fox could only cite Ferguson's (1977) work at Ft.Watson, South Carolina, a British outpost besieged and captured in 1781 as an example of how the analysis of archaeological data could be used to reconstruct and further enlighten an otherwise poorly documented military engagement. Since then, other sites have been explored, notably the Fallen Timbers in Ohio, a clash where The Legion of the United States, comprising Federal troops and Kentucky militiamen clashed with a confederacy of Ohio-Great Lakes Indians in August 1794 ( cf. Pratt nd). This work was occasioned in reaction to developer activity on part of the site. The project explored nearly 146,250m2 , or 23%, of the presumed site. It recovered over 300 battle-related artifacts (mainly projectiles and buttons). The conclusion was that the survey had located the position of the initial skirmishes which in tum permitted the re-tracking of the course of the battle.

g1vmg private landowners preservation incentives and tools and developing educational and heritage tourism priorities" (Townsend in Greenberg 1997: 9). The ABPP defined four largely self-explanatory landscape components to all battlefields; the core area (the scene(s) of the heaviest and most significant fighting), the study area, significant viewsheds and buffer zones. It recognised that all battlefields are different and therefore that different strategic, resource and reconnaissance techniques are required for sites (Gossett 1998). In doing this there was to be a national policy for protecting principal battlefields: the establishment of an Emergency Civil War Battlefield Land Acquisition Program, the creation of a series of mechanisms to permit federal intervention in site contractual agreements and, in certain cases, for the acquisition of sites and funding for the NPS to study Civil War themes not already being considered. It is this framework which underscores recent work on NPS and some non-NPS sites. A summary of the process and case examples illustrating the potential and problems of the ABPP was published in the NPS's own Cultural Resource Management plan (Greenberg 1997: cf. the ABPP at http://www2.cr.nps.gov/abpp/). There was one aspect rmssmg in the ABPP recommendations which has had knock-on effects: that of research into the physical components of battlefields in the form of archaeology. The CRM report mentioned the word 'archaeology' no more than three times and then not in the conventional sense. However the ABPP scheme did provoke considerable research and resources. Following on from the success of the CWSAC, in 1996 Congress initiated other thematic programmes, notably the Revolutionary War and War of 1812 Historic Preservation Study Act (Gossett 1998) as well as research into the Mexican War, various Indian Wars and now WWII.

There are two major facets to the US approach to battlefield conservation. In the past battlefields were treated as part of the normal preserve of the National Parks Service (NPS), as historic sites. The list of pertinent sites was small and the work of preserving and interpreting them limited. The situation changed in the early 1990s when the Second Battle of Manassas (1862) Civil War site was threatened by commercial development. Following this controversy, the site was eventually saved when it was taken into Federal control with compensation to the developers to the tune of $130 million (Gossett 1998). In order to anticipate the same sort of hotch-potch in the future, in 1990, the Secretary of the State for the Interior initiated the American Battlefield Protection Program (ABPP) within the NPS. At about the same time a commission was established to investigate the nations' Civil War sites, the Civil War Sites Advisory Commission (CWSAC). In order to speed its progress the CWSAC was kept independent of the ABPP until it reported, after which it was subsumed into the latter. In 1993 the CWSAC finally designated 384 sites, and graded them into three groups, with 50 being designated Priority 1. It was the recommendation of the Commission on the relative significance of a site, its condition and threat along with suggestions for their protection and enhancement which became the basis for the ABPP. The Commission reported that " ...directed government leadership can better protect battlefields by focusing on preservation priorities, encouraging private sector preservation, helping local and state governments to preserve and to promote battlefields,

The second development to note in the US was the initiation in the mid-1960s of the National Landmarks Program. This scheme allows for the designation of historic and archaeological sites as well as natural landmarks on a National Register. With respect to the former group, properties include " ...districts, sites, buildings structures and objects that are significant to American history, architecture, archeology (sic), engineering and culture. These resources contribute to an understanding of the historical and cultural foundations of the Nation" (US Dept. of the Interior NPS 'The National Register of Historical Places" leaflet, 1996). To be eligible for registration, sites have to satisfy one of four criteria. 1 Battlefields easily fall within three of these requirements. For inclusion on the register, State and Federal organisations as well as individuals make nominations. 1 "These are that a site/sites: (i) are associated with events that have made a significant contribution to the broad patterns of ...history; (ii) that are associated with the lives of persons significant in 'our' past: (iii) that embody the distinctive characteristics of a type, period, or method of construction etc.: and (iv) that have yielded or may be likely to yield, information important in prehistory and history" (US Dept of Interior information leaflet). They also need to score highly on 'integrity'.

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Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

Private individuals may also suggest sites. "Listing in the National Register signals to local citizens that a battlefield site meets stringent federal and impartial criteria for listing, that it indeed deserves to be called historic and is worthy of preservation. National Register listing also helps local citizens, officials and battlefield landowners realize that they are the stewards of a site that may be important to other people in their state and across the country" (Gossett 1998). The attractiveness of this programme is that the nomination of Landmark sites responds to local perceptions of heritage and the past and is not necessarily assessed on a national scale. The success of the Landmark and ABPP programmes has been two-fold: a greater popular awareness of battlefields with concomitant educational advantages as well as strengthening the hands of local government in opposing development proposals; and secondly a cost saving. Gossett (1998) calculates that in its protecting, investigating and enhancing over 75 battlefields, the ABPP has cost $7.2 million, only 6% of the cost of Federal involvement in the Manassas controversy.

Hom none of the 'white' participants lived to tell the tale so accounts rely on the eye witness reports of those adjacent to the events but perversely rarely on 'discredited' Indian testimonies. The elements of counter-history, what is perceived by some to be political correctness and the arguments of apologists, has served to broaden the debate. Add to this a suspicion, verging on hatred, towards what the NPS and its management of the site has done and you have a potent mix of charge and accusation over what happened at the site and what it all means. The Little Big Hom site was covered with the sort of 'unique' detritus which is amenable to remote sensing techniques and in tum to charting the progress of the battle; in this instance rifled weapons and bullets and buttons. Similar technology was introduced during the Crimea War (1854-56) when British, French and Turkish forces engaged with the Russians. During the siege of Sebastopol in 1854, there were three major engagements in 1854 in the peninsula: Alma, Inkerman and Balaklava. All involve contentious or contradictory accounts which remain debated today. Each of the sites is largely unspoilt by later building work, although at least Balaklava is under cultivation and extensive actions in its vicinity during WWII complicate the situation. However any one of these sites would repay archaeological investigation. With the example of indigenous peoples engaging with a more technologically sophisticated European force reminiscent of the US - Indian conflict, Fox and Scott ( 1991) believed that the South African British-Zulu Wars might be an alternative option. In contrast the potential for exploring the great battles of antiquity is less clear as they cannot produce such 'markers'. But there are some exceptions. Mass graves have been identified and explored on some Greek sites (Pritchett 1985: 125ff.). More recently there is the case of the site of the Clades variana in the Teutoburger Wald, at Kalkriese in north Germany, part of the much larger location of the massacre of P. Quinctilius Varus' command in AD 9 (Schluter 1999: cf. Coulston this volume). This was not a battlefield in the conventional sense of the word, if the accounts of V elleius Paterculus, Tacitus, Florus and Dio are to be believed. Indeed they imply that it developed into a lengthy (both in time and distance) piece of attrition which reads much like the protracted skirmish that the Little Big Hom became. Despite the significance of the Varusschlact, under the circumstances, in exploring ancient battlefields a better option might be detailed topographic survey. Such approaches have been tried with some of the great military engagements of history, including the exploits of Alexander the Great at the battles of the Granicus and Issus (334 and 333 BC: Hammond 1994). However this approach tends to fall back on the literary evidence and to be self-confirming. But there again survey can produce interesting insights. At its conclusion, the Greek historian Polybius reports that the Second Punic War site at Lake Trasimene (217 BC) was tidied up. Survey by Susini over 35 years ago suggested that the lake had receded since ancient times and that at the time of the battle it would have been further north. In support of an idea that the

The element of the archaeological investigation of battlefields has been addressed in projects such as the Little Big Hom and the Fallen Timbers. Comparable work has since been undertaken at a number of other sites in the US.2 Where there have been major advances in research into and the preservation and presentation of battlefield sites has been in the US. The advances have been along a number of fronts. Research programmes such as the systematic surface exploration of parts of the Little Big Hom site followed by Palo Alto (1846; Haecker & Mauck 1997) and the Fallen Timbers (1794: Pratt n.d.) battlefields are but three examples which have demonstrated that an integrated and careful (re-)survey of such sites can reveal much about the location and course of a battle simply from the distribution of artefacts. The list of sites explored continues to lengthen. It is also in the US that there is to be found at least one institution with a department dedicated to the study of battlefield archaeology - the Center for Historic and Military Archaeology at Heidelberg College (cf. Pratt n.d.). It has followed up its work at Fallen Timbers with the Buffington Island Battlefield (1863) and the associated Morgan's Great Raid Trail. The Society for Historical Archaeology (SHA) also actively promotes the study of battlefields in the US (cf. http://www.sha.org/). Projects such as the Little Big Hom and Fallen Timbers worked especially well because of the existence of literary and oral sources (Connell 1984) which have created confusion and debate. Paradoxically there might be less obvious justification for archaeological research in the case of major engagements with better descriptions and other documentation, as with many battles for example, of the Napoleonic Wars and the present century. At the Little Big

2 For example, at the US-Mexico War site at Palo Alto, cf. Haecker & Mauck 1997 as well as Gould 1983. In addition to this the NPS has also put together an impressive series of homepages for battlefields which are in its remit (e.g. Washita Battlefield (1868) at http://www.aps.gov.waba).

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Phil Freeman: Introduction: issues concerning the archaeology of battlefields

battle site would have to be shifted he referred to cremation burials found in the area as well as toponymns, although the suggestion has been seriously questioned (Susini 1959-1960; 1964; Walbank 1961). So what has been achieved in the UK ? Evidently not much. It is true that Englsih Heritage has sponsored recording of Britain's WWII coastal defences under its Monuments Protection Programme and airfields (cf. Holyoak this volume). But to date none of the advances outlined above with respect to battlefields have been repeated. While Britain has a number of major battlefield sites which are 'listed', it is surprising to learn just how little is actually known about them - even down to precision in their location - and just how poorly they are presented to the public. In some cases, even for some of the best known sites, the precise location of the engagement has not been established or remains debatable. 3 English Heritage maintains a Battlefield Advisory Committee whose responsibilities are otherwise difficult to discern, other than to note that it has placed 43 'significant' sites on its Register of battlefield, sites ranging from Malton (991) to Sedgmoor (1685) based on their 'historic' significance rather than their archaeological potential, which in tum might have an historic importance. 4 Instead the majority of battlefields here remain largely unappreciated and unmapped or else offered quasi-statutory protection which means that little or nothing has been done with them. Despite the creation of the Battlefield Register (English Heritage 1995; cf. Foard this volume), it is clear the Register has not worked in anticipating planning controversies in England, as the Tewkesbury example demonstrated. Part of the issue is the recurring problem of current scheduling policies. At present English Heritage and its sister organisations has little or no ability to preserve landscapes. "The 1979 (the Ancient Monuments and Archaeological Areas) Act will only (allow schedul)ing of works and few battlefields have works surviving .. .It seems ... that the Planning Acts (viz. The Town and Country Planning General Development Order 1988 (England) and the Town and Country Planning (General Development Procedure - Scotland Order 1992) allow for the better (the only ?) protection for battlefields sites" (D.Breeze pers. comm. 19 March 1998). Where there has been systematic work on British battlefields it tends to be as part of the development of the site for tourism (eg. in advance of the construction of car parks and ancillary buildings) or as isolated 'projects' (eg. by supervised detectorists). The National Trust, notably that for Scotland, has opened up some of the battlefields in its care but again

in terms of displaying what it possesses rather than exploring them further. The non-governmental Battlefield Trust was formed to help save battlefield sites from destruction and to preserve them as educational and heritage resources. Otherwise the situation is largely static, where one can drive past sites and perhaps stop to look at the standard EH information board and leave as about uninformed as when one arrived. Even Historic Scotland's attempts to learn from the lessons that EH faced have not been entire successful as the recent furore concerning planning consent on part of Bannockburn has shown. The poverty of the appreciation of the archaeological potential of battlefields was demonstrated by what followed the proposed redevelopment of part of the Tewkesbury battlefield. The crux of the issue was the proposal to build a housing estate on a site known as (the) Gastonia Field, which according to some local parties was central to the battle. Those favouring the proposal argued that the centre of the conflict was at the nearby Holm Hill. The local Borough Council accepted the offer, not least because it in part met the requirements of its Local Plan. In the outcry that followed the Council's decision, the case went to a public inquiry at which the opponents of the building plan included representatives from English Heritage, the Council for British Archaeology (CBA), the County Archaeologist, the County Council, the Battlefield Trust and members of various Tewkesbury organisations. Presenting the case for the developers and Borough Council were planning officers, a medieval historian and council employees and officers. In its defence of the Gastons site, the Tewkesbury Battlefield Society offered to develop further its activities with regard to the interpretation and development of the battlefield site. This included developing its battlefield trail, undertaking site restoration, introducing a management programme for the battlefield, improved educational facilities with a visitor centre and developing further Tewkesbury's 'strong medieval culture', with festivals and re-enactments. For all the arguments that raged about the precise location of the engagement, one of the curious omissions in the debate was any consideration, let alone attempt, to use systematic fieldwork to explore the location of and the course of the battle in order to resolve the situation. Indeed in making their cases to the public inquiry neither the Gastons nor the Holm Hill groups seem to have had recourse to the archaeological potential of the site. At best they referred to stray finds from around the site and made oblique references to the activities of some metal detectorists. A summary of the presentations to the public inquiry can be found at http://www.seven.net/battlefield/proof.html.

For example, Seymour (1979) notes that the location and course of the following out of 35+ British battles is uuclear, uucertain, confused or debatable: Evesham (1265), Falkirk (1298), Bannockburn (1314), 2nd St Albans (1461), Tauuton (1461), Tewkesbury (1471), Bosworth (1485), Pinkie Cleuch (1547), Edgehill (1642), Newbury (1643), Cheritiou (1644), Marston Moor (1644) and Sheriffmuir (1715). This list is far from exhaustive. 4 The English Heritage Battlefield register, compiled " ... in 1995 after extensive consultation, identifies 43 areas of historical significance in England" (Stevens in Guise & Guise 1996.5).

The Tewkesbury controversy might have been avoided if a fuller appraisal of the archaeology had been carried out, an assessment that went beyond the simple desktop appraisal that goes with much developer-funded work. The situation was such that the editor of the Update section of the CBA's own bulletin British Archaeology, in reporting on the government's decision to conduct an enquiry in to the Tewkesbury problem, adds that the " ... CBA will also call on the Government for a clear statement of policy on the

3

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Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

conservation of battlefields" (Denison 1998). But nothing seems to have changed in the aftermath. What Tewkesbury showed was the assumption that battlefields can not be explored, a view perhaps married to the feeling that it is not the sort of subject in which respectable scholars should engaged. This attitude seems to be perpetuated in EH's own website. On its Battlefields page on the WWW is to be found the following quite frankly incredible statement relating to the results of the Little Big Hom project:

Civil War sites. But this work has tended to be low key and uncoordinated. There are accounts of parts of certain battle sites being excavated. The main burial pit at the English Civil War site at Sedgmoor (1685) was excavated at the end of the C19th (Seymour 1979: 160). Otherwise there are discoveries of stray finds, most recently by metal detectorists. Burne (1950; 1952), in his descriptions of English battlefields, often gives a balanced account of the possible location of sites as well as noting any artefacts that have come from them, as does Young (1967: 330-331) for the English Civil War site at Edgehill (1642). In a passage which almost anticipated Fox's work, Young claimed that in his research on the site of Marston Moor (1644) he recovered lead shot: " ...over the course of years it proved possible to chart extensive finds of musket shot and ultimately, from its distribution and type, to supplement the evidence of source and battlefield study. This additional material led conclusively towards a view of events markedly at variance with the interpretation of secondary writers" (Young 1981: 3). Unfortunately it is difficult to find where this material is deployed in the reinterpretation. He also notes that the site was effectively stripped of detritus in the aftermath of the battle. However, in general, British battlefields have not been as much of an issue because there are relatively few of them and because their presentation and study has normally been less contentious than in the US. There are fewer preserved sites to choose from and the majority of the best known battles were on a scale much smaller than their American and European counterparts. Many are better characterised as skirmishes. The location of many sites in Britain is uncertain. This applies to even the supposedly betterknown sites. One has only to note the amount of ink that has been spilt in the search for the site of Mons Graupius in Scotland fought between Romans and natives in AD 83 (Maxwell 1990). Yet again part of the problem lies with the way that the reconstruction of the course of battles depends ahnost entirely on the historical sources placed against the 'reading' (but not archaeological exploration) of the landscape. As noted above, all UK sites predate the Cl 9th which means that the sort of firearms which helped disentangle the Little Big Hom site (self-contained metal cartridges) were not used. The last battle fought in the UK was at Culloden in 1746, about a century before rifles replaced smoothbore muskets, in widespread use in Britain from the C16th, as the standard military firearm. Fox (1993: 53ft) suggested that the usefulness in analysing (soft lead) percussion musket balls is hindered by the way that the lead oxidises which reduces the visibility of any distinctive marks left as the projectile exited the barrel with the implication that Culloden and its predecessors, could not have produce the sort of markers that are so useful in the US. However the weakness of his assessment is demonstrated in the Fallen Timbers example which indicated that there must be some potential. We are therefore still left with the likes of Civil War sites and those of the various English - Scottish wars. Tewkesbury might not immediately have sprung to mind as a site offering much potential, but there again, it has not been attempted. It is reported that supervised metal detecting at

"Palaeopathology has allowed the harrowing experiences of individual soldiers to be reconstructed, but research of this nature raises a number of moral as well as academic issues. Does this sort of voyeuristic approach actually add to our understanding of the past or the present ? Is the interpretation and design studio (so valuable in informing the presentation of information but often without addressing the broader issues) the proper place for battlefield research ? It is no means clear how battlefield archaeology can be related to other academic priorities, or how the archaeological study of English battlefields will develop in the future. The nature of the subject, however is such that it will undoubtedly attract private resources, possibly on a large scale, perhaps the most constructive role which English Heritage can play is a curatorial one - promoting professional standards and helping to ensure that irreplaceable evidence is not needlessly destroyed either by development or by ill-conceived research" (http ://www. englishheritage. org.uk/knowledge/archaeology / archreview 9495/battle.html) Irrespective of these opinions, many of which fly in the face of more general archaeological research (when was archaeology not voyeuristic ?; in the absence of guidelines, what is ill-conceived research ? etc. etc.), Tewkesbury demonstrated yet again English Heritage's inability to appreciate battlefields as parts of larger landscape and as resources, ones that go beyond the few acres of engagement that the Battlefields Register seems to imply.5 This is a problem that her sister Scottish and Welsh organisations also face. Historic Scotland currently has no policy although as will become apparent, (MacSween below), one is about to go into consultation - that said controversies are still being reported in Scotland. Tewkesbury was in the main a failing in the planning process. The 'lesson' to be derived from it seem not to have been learnt. What made it all the more lamentable was, as noted above, the potential of certain sites has been recognised by a number of researchers elsewhere in the UK. For instance, valuable work has been undertaken - and published - on the patterning of artefacts on some English The National Trust for Scotland has in its control and displays the sites of Bannockburn (1314). Killiecrankie (1689) and Culloden (1746). In England the presentation of some sites is the responsibility of local government/authorities (eg. Leicestershire County Council and Bosworth Field (1485)). 5

6

Phil Freeman: Introduction: issues concerning the archaeology of battlefields

the site of Naseby (1645) has uncovered material which has clarified aspects of the battle (Foard 1995). Recent work at Towton is another example closer to home (Fiorato et al 2000).

subject is current. It is not going to go m4'ay. Indeed, since the conference, problems in defining, researching and presenting battlefields continue to appear in the press: in the UK at Bannockburn, at Stirling and internationally, with the Greek government's plans for Marathon as part of the construction progrannne for the 2004 Olympics. In this case, emphasising some of the points made above, the public outcry has been directed more to the environmental implications for the region's birdlife and flora rather than the opportunity to re-examine the site for its archaeological potential.

The preceding paragraphs have made the case that there is potential in exploring battlefields of all periods. The only problem is the quality of what survives to be explored. Battlefield archaeology is not simply dotting the 'i's and crossing the 't's, of validating or rejecting military history. It offers an insight into a tactile experience, of human life at the limit. True it can reveal intimate knowledge of an event not offered by history, but yet it can explore the disinformation of history. It is clear that the American experience for the preservation and exploration of battlefields has been infinitely more successful than in the United Kingdom, although it is not necessarily the case that lessons from there can be applied directly in the UK. More significant perhaps is the appreciation of what battlefields represent which has stimulated research that in tum has led to archaeological exploration of some sites. Under the right conditions, exploration permits a number of positive results. Not least it can clarify points of historical fact and debate. The issues of heritage and preservation leads to the question why preserve sites ? Commendable as it is, there seems to be little merit in slapping preservation orders on sites. Likewise, it is a wasted opportunity to include sites merely as part of the Heritage Industry which seems to work on the principle that if it is historic, then it has to be saved and used as a educational-cum-tourist sites. But large tracts of land carved up and taken out circulation, either commercially or for academic study, are of no use to anybody. In such instances the site might as well go. Battlefield archaeology and projects like the Little Big Hom demonstrate the potentialities of a more open-minded approach to what the detritus of military engagement can reveal about human experiences. The fact remains that most readers of this piece are unlikely to ever face the extreme emotions that come inevitably with battle of the kind recounted in Keegan (1976). Meanwhile for those who might be called to arms the chances are that it will be of a sort impersonalised, technological and at a distance experience that was unimaginable 50 years ago.

Principle of editing and issues arising

One of the contributors, responding to yet another letter pursuing a missing paper commiserated that "an editor's lot can't be a happy one". It certainly is not and was ever not. Following the conference virtually all the speakers expressed a wish to include expanded versions of their presentation in the proceedings. The original plan for submissions by late summer 2000. This was subsequently extended to autunm, then January 2001, then February and fmally April in the hope that we could have the volume out in less than a year after the conference. Whilst we have just about achieved this, still the editor was petitioned by 'early' contributors for the chance to update (aka rewrite) their contributions. That there occurred a major word processing crisis at the end has also held up progress. In the end we have lost a number of papers. Out of an original list of 30 presentations, 24 are included here. The editing was undertaken by PF, working with the principle of the minimum of interference to papers other than to render them to a consistent house-style. No word or illustration limits were imposed on the contributions. As a result a number of the papers here are considerably longer than their spoken version but this was thought acceptable as such papers are a consequence of issues raised in the discussions at the conference. A number of papers (eg. Adams & White, Lees, Gates) are presented here with the minimum of alterations since they were originally delivered. All the papers have been read by a number of anonymous readers who have made various suggestions. The publication of the University of Bradford work at the site of Towton meant that Bolyston could not contribute (now published as Fiorato et al 2000) and compromised Tim Sutherland's presentation on the location of the actual battle site. His conclusions undermine the methodology English Heritage devised to identify this particular battlefield for its Battlefields Register. Despite attempts to contact them, Andy Brown, Michael Wilkins, Hugh McBrien and Ross Mackenzie as well as the Spanish group variously failed to respond, declined our invitations or else failed to meet the deadlines for the submission of papers. In certain cases this is a real pity, especially with Brown's explanation of the Battlefield Register and his requests for comments and suggestions to improve it. In order to provide a flavour of these missing papers, we have included the abstracts of their original presentations at the end of this volume.

Not only is battlefield archaeology another facet of the current preoccupation with landscape archaeology, but what these sorts of planning crises demonstrate is that the subject of battlefield archaeology is not going to go away as the public interest in the past continues to develop. The subject will become more important as battlefield tourism grows and the guardians and curators of military sites are faced with the prospect of pilgrims being increasingly replaced by tourists. In the presentation of battlefields of the recent past, the archaeologist is going to play as much an important part as the historian and museum curator. And this is before we consider the significance of tourism and the presentation of sites to a lay audience. The success of the Glasgow conference was due in part to the fact the

7

Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

More positively as a consequence of the discussions during the conference, an additional three papers were offered for inclusion in this volume (Coulston, Dore and PhotosJones ). They were accepted because each had a direct relevance to the debate: Coulston chaired the original session on siege warfare. He offered to provide a paper on Roman siege craft which compliment Courtney's presentation on the same subject in the medieval era. As it transpires Coulston's contribution has become much more expansive, being an overview on ancient warfare which in part supplements the comments made in this introduction as well as Lees' on the siege at Olynthus in the mid-C4th BC. During a lengthy discussion session, Dore made a number of points related to the preservation and presentation of battlefield to mass audiences. We are happy to include her opinions worked up into a lengthier piece, with their relevance to the presentation of battlefields issue. Photos-Jones has been working on the sourcing of metal ores for some times. In the case of her contribution, she has some observations concerning the potential origins of Scottish weaponry in the C15th. These contributions have been added to the most relevant section in the proceedings. In the delay in marshalling papers, Temkin's contribution had been accepted for publication elsewhere. However it has been agreed that her paper can be republished here.

presentations. Some of these themes have become even more clearer in the versions included here. The obvious one is the age-old debate of the relationship of archaeology to history, or more precisely the primacy of two different sets of data available to researchers. It requires little discussion that the majority of papers here tend to prefer the value of evidence derived from archaeological sources ( excavation, field-walking and metal-detecting etc.) as at least the equal if not more so to the largely onedimensional impression of literary sources (cf. Courtney, Ivey). Doyle utilises archaeology's older sister discipline, geology, to assess the potential success of a campaign. Other contributions concentrate on fleshing-out deficient or thin literary sources (cf. Londahl et al, Parsons, Gates, Scott along and Adams & White and Haecker). Somewhat surprisingly into this category comes Holyoak on the identification and recording of WWI and WWII airfields. One might have expected that the records for the construction and development of fields would have been more comprehensive than they now seem. Less contentiously, certain papers report details from wellknown, if not archaeologically well-researched, sites (cf. Ivey, Londahl et al, Pollard). What is and how are battlefields might be defined, explored and presented along with the (statuary) preservation and presentation of them were issues which recurred in many presentations ( cf. Anderton' s argument that the Battle of Britain is a misnomer for a much larger conflict, the Carman' s exposition on the potential of battle sites, Foard's critical assessment of English Heritage and its Battlefield Register and MacSween and Historic Scotland's attempts to learn the same lessons). Others argue for a research agendas or potential research priorities (cf. Babits, Carman and Foard). This naturally enough leads to matters of conservation in the wake of the heritage-pilgrimage-tourist industry, unco-ordinated and often illegal exploration (cf. Bull & Panton, Dore, Foard). Interestingly, Temkin's paper represents the beginnings of a backlash to the way that certain battlefields have been afforded a degree of sanctity which detachs them from broader historic landscapes. More emotive is Lees' plea for the better dissemination of the results of archaeological study of battlefields and Dore's experience of how tourists interact with battlefields. Her paper is inspired by the Australian governments' concern at the diminishing significance of Gallipoli to modem Australians. At least two contributions look to a more recent past and how the evidence of the WWII in Britain at least might be preserved (Holyoak and Anderton).

The contents list shows that the majority of contributions concern battlefields and other military sites from the medieval period onwards, and in particular the C19th and C20th. It is a pity that there was only one paper on the subject of a conflict in antiquity (Lee), although this is now complimented by Coulston. This is all the sadder because work in this period is on-going. Dore hints at previous work at Thermopylae. In many respects it is with the sites of antiquity where the potential of battlefield studies might offer the greatest shift in our understanding of what might have occurred. Even for the early medieval period we possess half-decent records of what happened at many engagements which have tended to condition or shape how we view battlefield engagements. Such documents are rarer in antiquity, forcing a greater reliance on the archaeology. Moving on in time a number of presentations endeavoured to outline fresh approaches or aspects (Courtney, Foard, and to a lesser degree Coulston on the archaeology of siege warfare, Martin on evidence derived from maritime contexts, Photos-Jones on metallurgical analysis and Doyle on the contribution of geology in assessing the progress and success of campaigns, in this case in the modem era). Obviously each of the techniques outlined in these particular contributions has a utility to other periods and contexts.

With hindsight I am not sure what was the result of the conference. It certainly was a disparate assemblage of papers which is reflected in these proceedings. Some papers worked better on the day than others, coming over as cries from the heart. Others have not necessarily transferred to the printed form well. It is clear that the meeting identified a number of issues which will impinge on debate (in the UK at least) in archaeology in general. However we hope that the original intention of cross-

At the conference the sessions were organised broadly in terms of chronological or regional groups of papers. This arrangement has been retained. As is natural, some papers (and so sessions) worked better than others. Certain papers also generated more debate than others. Notable in this respect was the Carmans' contribution. However it is clear that a number of issues were shared by many of the

8

Phil Freeman: Introduction: issues concerning the archaeology of battlefields

fertilisation from the international experience happened and that we have shown that the subject of the exploration, preservation and presentation of military landscapes is a topic which merits serious consideration. Another gratifying feature of the conference is the way that it flushed out yet more on-going work.

Carman J. 1997 Material harm. Archaeological studies of war and violence. (Cruithne Press, Glasgow). Carman J. & Harding A. (edd.) 1999 Ancient warfare. Archaeological perspectives. (Sutton Publishing, Stroud). Connell E.S. 1984 Son of the Morning Star. General Custer and the Battle of the Little Big Horn. (Picador, London). Connolly P. 1981 Greece and Rome at war. (Macdonald, London). Denison S. 1998 Battlefields. CBA Update. British Archaeology March 1998: 18. Doyle P. & Bennett M.R. (edd.) forthc. Fields of battle. Terrain and military history. (Kluver, Rotterdam). English Heritage 1995 Register of Historic Battlefields. (English Heritage, London). Fairbairn N. 1983 A travellers guide to the battlefields of Britain. (London). Featherstone D. 1998 The battlefields walkers handbook. (Airlife, Shrewsbury). Ferguson L.G. 1977 An archaeological-historical analysis of Ft. Watson: Dec. 1780 - April 1781. In S. South (ed.) Research strategies in historical archaeology. (Academic Press, New York.): 41-71. Fiorato V., Bolyston A. & Knusel C. (edd.) 2000 Blood Red Roses: the archaeology of a mass grave from the Battle ofTowton, AD 1461. (Oxbow, Oxford). Foard G. 1995 Naseby: the decisive campaign. (Pryor Publication, Whitstable ). Fox jnr. R. A. 1993 Archaeology, history and Custer's last battle. (University of Oklahoma Press, Norman). Fox jnr. R.A. & Scott D.D. 1991 The post-Civil War battlefield pattern. Historical Archaeology 25.2: 92-

It has to be said that in planning the Glasgow conference we did not envisage that it should become a regular event. But such was the success of the meeting that a number of offers were made to host a follow-up conference. At this moment these offers are not confirmed but it is likely that another conference will be held in Finland in 2003. Requests for further information concerning a meeting should be directed to Viveka Londahl whose address can been found under the details of the contributors.

Acknowledgements

Finally there are the acknowledgements. The lion's share of the organising of the conference was undertaken by TP. Thanl(s are due to the Dept. of Archaeology at Glasgow for agreeing to host the conference. The Archaeology Dept. at Liverpool and the Scottish Centre for War Studies again at Glasgow made their own small contributions. Glasgow City Council generously hosted a reception in the Arms and Armour Gallery in the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum. Last but not least we come to The People on to whom fell the task of putting into reality the boozy dreams of that conversation three years ago: to the secretarial staff in the Glasgow department for their assistance with the conference paperwork (Nancy Docherty, Laura Hayes, Jen Cochrane, Pauline Wilson and Jane Neil): the University's janitorial staff (Donald Ross and John Young, who sadly died shortly after the conference). Ross McGrehan and Chris Connor acted as goffers and heavies. Finally there were the conference assistants (Olivia Lelong, Laura Hayes, Stuart Jeffery and Martin Carruthers). Lorraine McEwan was responsible for the conference graphics. She also rendered many of the illustrations submitted to the house-style. I am grateful to David Bell and especially Jonathan Trigg for proof reading the early drafts of the papers as well as the readers and their comments. My colleague at Liverpool, Antony Sinclair, rightly tore into a earlier draft of this Introduction. I'm sure he would still not approve of the outcome.

103.

George H.B. 1895 Battles of English history. (Methuen, London). Gossett T.M. 1998 The American Battlefield Protection Program: forging preservation partnerships at historic battlefields. The George Wright Society 15.2. Gould R. 1983 The archaeology of war. Wrecks of the Spanish Armada of 1588 and the Battle of Britain, 1940. In R. Gould (ed.) Shipwreck anthropology. (Albuquerque): 105-143. Greenberg R.M. (ed.) 1997 Altogether fitting and proper. Saving America's battlefields. CRM: Cultural Resource Management 20.5 (US Dept. of the Interior, National Park Service Cultural Resources). Guise K. & Guise D. 1996 British battles. (English Heritage, London). Hackett J. (ed.) 1989 Warfare in the ancient world. (Sidgwick & Jackson, London). Haecker C.M. & Mauck J.G. 1997 On the prairie of Palo Alto: historical archaeology of the US - Mexican War battlefield. (Texas A & M University Press). Hammond N.G.L. 1994 One or two passes at the CiliciaSyria border? Ancient World 25: 15-26. Hanson V.D. 1999 The wars of the ancient Greeks. (Cassell, London).

References Barrett C.R.B. 1896 Battles and battlefields in England. (AD. Innes, London). Brooke R. 1857 Visits to fields of battles in England. (John Russell Smith, London. Reprinted 1975). Burne A. 1950 Battlefields of England. (Methuen, London). Burne A. 1952 More battlefields of England. (Methuen, London).

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Holmes R. 1996 War walks. (London). Holmes R. 1997 War walks 2. (London). Holmes R. (ed.) 2001 The Oxford companion to military history. (OUP, Oxford). Humble R. 1980 Warfare in the ancient world. (Guild Publishing, London). Keegan J. 1976 The face of battle. (Jonathan Cape, London). Maxwell G. 1990 A battle lost: Romans and Caledonians at Mons Graupius. (Edinburgh). Noel Hume I. 1969 Historical archaeology. (Alfred Knopf, New York). Pratt J. n.d. (http: //www. heidelberg.edu /FallenTimbers /FTLessons.html) Pritchett W.K. 1985 The Greek state at war. Part IV. (Berkeley, California). Schluter W. 1999 The Battle of Teutoburg Forest; archaeological research at Kalkreise near Osnabriick. In J.D. Creighton & R.J.A. Wilson ( edd.) Roman Germany: studies in Classical interaction. IRA Supplementary Series No.32): 125-159. Seymour W. 1979 Battles in Britain and their political background. 1066-1746. (Sidgwick & Jackson, London). Susini G. 1959-1960 Richerche sulla battaglia del Trasimeno. Annuario dell' Accademia etrusia di Cortona 11. Susini G. 1964 Tuoro sul Trasimeno - Perugia 1961. (Cortona.). Walbank F. 1961 Review of Susini 1959-1960. Journal of Roman Studies 51: 232-234. Young P. 1967 Edgehill 1642. The campaign and the battle. (Roundwood Press, Kineton). Young P. 1981 The Battle of Marston Moor 1644. (Chichester).

Urban combat at Olynthos, 348 BC John W .I. Lee The new settlers substantially increased the size of Olynthos: to the north of the old, unplanned and crowded town on the southern spur of the ridge was added a regular gridded development of housing and shops, surrounded by a new city wall (Hoepfner & Schwandner 1994: 76-82). The old and new areas of the city are designated the South and North Hills, respectively. The houses, constructed of mud brick on stone foundations, show some variations in plan, but were in general built around a central courtyard (Cahill 1991: 196-253; Hoepfner & Schwandner 1994: 82113; Robinson & Graham 1938). Surrounding the court were kitchens, banquet rooms and storage areas. Interior alleys in each house block facilitated drainage and waste disposal. By ancient standards, the houses at Olynthos were relatively spacious (average 17 x 17m in size, with house blocks of roughly 85 x 34m). Some, judging from the remains of stone staircases, even had second floors; all carried pitched tile roofs. They were comfortable and appropriate dwellings for the Olynthians, whose city now became the centre of a regional confederacy, the Khallddic League (Cahill 1991: 144-152; Zahmt 1971: 57-66).

Abstract This paper combines literary and archaeological evidence in an attempt to reconstruct the mechanics of urban combat during the Macedonian capture of Olynthos (348 BC). Diodoros Siculus (16.53.2-3), our major source for the event, relates only that Olynthos was captured by treachery. Yet analysis of the hundreds of lead sling bullets and iron arrowheads scattered throughout the site suggests that substantial intramural fighting was required before the Macedonians could secure the city. These small missile objects tum up throughout the site, especially within house courtyards and internal rooms, in a manner which implies not accidental dropping, but deliberate use. Just as small domestic finds (e.g. loom-weights) have been used to reconstruct the uses of various rooms in a Greek house, these missiles help show where fighting took place in the city. Furthermore, because some of these missiles are inscribed with the names of Macedonian or Olynthian commanders, and because a marked discrepancy in weight exists between Macedonian and Olynthian sling bullets, it may be possible roughly to determine the positions of attacking and defending forces during this fighting. This archaeological evidence, when combined with the often-examined literary evidence, helps provide a clearer picture of what happened at Olynthos one hot summer twenty-four hundred years ago.

In the following century, Olynthos rapidly grew in power and prosperity. New and more lavish housing, in the form of the so-called Villa Section, expanded the area of the city eastward (Cahill 1991: 159-162). By the mid-C4th BC the League centred on Olynthos had become a significant regional force, powerful enough to challenge the rising kingdom of Macedon, then ruled by Philip II, father of Alexander. Throughout the 350s, Philip stayed on good terms with Olynthos but as the king consolidated his hold on northern Greece, Macedon and the Khalkidic League began to drift apart (Borza 1990: 216-219; Gude 1933: 3437; Hammond & Griffith 1979 II: 269-328; Hammond 1994: 50-52; Hoepfner & Schwandner 1994: 70; Zahmt 1971: 104-111).

Introduction

The ruins of Olynthos spread out over roughly 40 acres along a low north-south ridge in Greece's Khalkidike peninsula. Olive trees cover most of the surrounding plain, while the River Retsinika - no more than a large stream, really - meanders southward below the western slopes of the ridge. The ridge itself affords panoramic views of the placid Aegean to the south and the rugged Polygiros mountains to the north. Yet the casual visitor to Olynthos is apt to be disappointed, for marble sculpture and impressive public edifices, the staples of Greece's most popular ancient sites, are nowhere to be found. Indeed, not much survives of the city aside from the stone foundations of hundreds of houses, most of them neatly laid out on a regular grid of broad streets and avenues ( cf. Figs. 1 & 2). Only a few elaborate mosaics, many covered by conservators' tarps, serve as a reminder that until its destruction in 348 BC, Olynthos was prosperous and powerful, the leading city in the Khalkidike.

A period of increasing tensions and political manoeuvring soon gave rise to open warfare. In summer 349, Philip attacked and captured a number of Khalkidic cities. Olynthos appealed to Athens for aid which despite the urgings of the orator Demosthenes dispatched only meagre and tardy reinforcements, not enough to dissuade Philip (Cawkwell 1962: 122-140; Hammond & Griffith 1979 II: 315-324). The next summer, as the historian Diodoros Siculus (16.53.2-3), writing three centuries later, relates:

There was already a settlement on the site of Olynthos during the Neolithic period, and the place was noticeable enough by historical times that the Persians paused to sack it in 479 BC (Herodotus VIII.127; Cahill 1991: 131-133; Gude 1933; Hoepfner & Schwandner 1994: 68). Olynthos, however, remained of little note until 432, when the Macedonian king Perdiccas convinced the peoples of Khalkidike to abandon their coastal towns and settle together in a single strong inland city (Thucydides I.58; Borza 1990: 14-142; Cahill 1991: 134-144; Hoepfner & Schwandner 1994: 68-73; Zahmt 1971: 49-57).

" ...having taken the field with a large army against the most important of the cities of this region, Olynthos, [Philip] first defeated the Olynthians in two battles and confmed them to the defense of their walls; then in the continuous assaults that he made he lost many of his men in encounters at the walls, but finally bribed the chief officials of the Olynthians, Euthykrates and Lasthenes, and captured Olynthos through their treachery. After

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Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

Figure 1. Olynthos: looking north along Avenue A. Photo, John Lee, 1999

Figure 2. Olynthos: looking north-east across houses of the North Hill. Photo, John Lee, 1999

12

John WI. Lee: Urban combat at Olynthos, 348 BC

plundering it and enslaving the inhabitants he sold both men and property as booty"

presence suggests that something more than simple treachery was required to subjugate Olynthos. By examining the context and distribution of these artifacts in conjunction with Diodoros' account and other literary testimonia, we may be able to reconstruct more precisely what happened during the fall of the city.

So fell Olynthos, probably in September 348 BC. Archaeology and history at Olynthos

When archaeologists explored the site in the 1920s and 1930s, they discovered copious evidence of the havoc Philip's soldiers had wrought (Robinson et al 1930-1952). So ruthless was the Macedonian king in destroying cities, Demosthenes had claimed, that " ...a traveller would fmd it hard to say whether they had ever been inhabited" (Dem. IX.26). At the site of Olynthos, collapsed tile roofs, localized traces of intense burning, and house after house apparently looted of valuable objects seemed to confirm this literary tradition. Recent research, however, suggests that Demosthenes may have been exaggerating. Olynthos was in fact partially reoccupied by squatters after 348 and enough Olynthians survived that not a few of them took part in founding the nearby city of Kassandreia three decades later (Cahill 1991: 165-195).

Weapons artifacts

Let us start by looking at the missile artifacts (Fig. 3). First, the sling bullets.2 The excavators unearthed about 500 of these lead projectiles (Robinson 1941: 418-443). Generally bi-conical in shape and between two and three centimetres long, the bullets range in weight from about 19 to more than 30gms. More than 100 are inscribed, with a total of 20 different markings (Pritchett 1991: 48-49). Some markings are clearly Macedonian. Fourteen bullets, for instance, carry the name of Philip himself, while 16 carry the name of Hipponikos, one of his officers (Philip bullets - Robinson 1941: 431-433. Hipponikos bullets Robinson 1941: 424-426). Others are clearly Olynthian, such as the 8 bullets inscribed with the abbreviated form OAY. 3 Yet others bear the names of otherwise unknown individuals, and one sports the words mcrxpov ooopov"an unpleasant gift." (Robinson 1941: 421). The inscribed Macedonian bullets, Cahill and others point out, average almost 30gms as opposed to roughly 26gms for Khalkidic or Olynthian bullets (Cahill 1991: 164 n.71; Korfinann 1973: 40-41; Robinson 1941: 433). The distinction appears statistically significant, and may reasonably permit assigning bullets to one side or the other, on the basis of weight, even when they are not inscribed.

If Demosthenes cannot be trusted, what about Diodoros ? Scholars so far have generally relied on his account in combination with other scraps of literary testimonia to explain how the Macedonians captured Olynthos (cf. Gude 1933: 51-104). Given the brief and fragmentary nature of these sources, it is not surprising that conclusions drawn from them are unsatisfying. Many authors simply repeat Diodoros' statement that the city was betrayed (Gehrke 1985: 124; Gude 1933: 36; Hoepfner & Schwandner 1994: 70). Hammond and Griffith accept uncertainty: " ...how the end came, whether by more treachery, or by an unconditional surrender, or by a storming of the city, is unknown" (Hammond & Griffith 1979 II: 324). Cawkwell casts doubt on the idea that treachery alone caused the fall of Olynthos, but offers no further explanation (Cawkwell 1962: 132-133 n.8; see also Borza 1990: 218).

Next, there are the arrowheads (Fig. 3). Of the hundreds excavated, about a fifth are iron and one is bone; the rest are bronze (Robinson 1941: 378-411). The Olynthos publication divides these arrowheads into six types, not all of which can be associated with the fighting of 348 BC. Arrowheads found under C4th floor levels on the South Hill, for example, probably represent the Persian attack of 479, while others are best linked with the Spartan campaigns around Olynthos between 382-379 (Robinson 1941: 378). Nevertheless, more than 100 arrowheads, mostly Types E and G, can be relatively securely identified as relics of the Macedonian attack (Type E arrowheads (iron): (Robinson 1941: 392-397); Type G (bronze; Macedonian or Thracian): (Robinson 1941: 405-410). The six Type C arrowheads which carry Philip's name have attracted the most attention (Robinson 1941: 382-383). These are roughly six to seven centimetres long and two to three centimetres wide, with a one centimetre shaft

Relying on the spotty literary evidence for the fall of Olynthos would make sense if the site had not been carefully explored. Robinson's excavations, however, were unusual for their day in scale and meticulousness. About four acres of the roughly 40 acre site were dug, and the excavators published their findings with a level of detail " ...unmatched in the publications of some excavations even today" (Nevett 1999: 57). Indeed, the fmd spots of thousands of small artifacts were accurately recorded, in many cases down to individual rooms in houses. Amongst these artifacts are hundreds of bronze and iron arrowheads and lead sling bullets, some inscribed with the names of Macedonian commanders, others with Olynthian markings, as well as quantities of swords and other weapons. These objects, uncovered in clear destruction contexts of 348 BC, have so far received little attention. 1 Yet their very

(1991: 162-165) retreats to a text-based perspective in discussing the fall of the city. 2 Caveat: Pritchett (1991: 39) observes that in general only prehistorians look for non-leaden sling (clay or stone) ammunition. We may thus be missing an entire class of sling bullet evidence from Olynthos. For more on clay and stone projectiles see Pritchett (1991: 39-43) and Vutiropulos (1991: 279-286). 3 Bullets inscribed OAµ(uqnom)or "of the Olynthians" Robinson (1941: 430-431). Five bullets (see Robinson (1941: 437)) carry the abbreviated form XAA or similar; that is, XaA(Kt0Eom)or "of the Khalkidians."

1 Borza (1990: 299) briefly mentions the possible significance of the missile artifacts from Olynthos, but misreads their find spots. Cahill

13

Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

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The remaining English documents are rich in variety. Brian Tuke, secretary to the signet, who was with the English army in France wrote his report of the Scottish war on 22 September (PRO 31/14/195/f.173). Tuke's letter, in which he gives an account of the victory at Flodden, was intended for the English Cardinal Bainbridge in Rome, and sent to his secretary Richard Pace. Tuke's letter is of interest for being one of the few contemporary documents to mention the involvement of the French in the Flodden campaign, and reports the extent of their aid to the Scots in 1513. In his letter he cites a 'document' found on the body of a dead Scottish nobleman. This slain nobleman may well have been Matthew Stewart, Earl of Lennox, or one of his followers, as the French munitions and 'military mission' of less than 100 men-at-arms and gunners landed at the port of Dumbarton which was within Lennox territory (Hannay 1932; Macdougall 1989; Parsons 1995). Led by their captain, the Seigneur d' Aussi, they would have stood with the Lennox levies during the battle. However, Tuke's account is very much a second-hand one based upon intelligence about events in the North of England which had begun to arrive in the English camp by 15 September when the first news of Surrey's victory reached Henry VIII. One of the reports used was the Articles of the bataill. Tuke's letter, written in Latin, was subsequently published in Rome and later formed the basis for an anonymous Italian poem, La Rotta di Scoceshi, which celebrated the victory of the Pope's allies (cf. Mackenzie 1931 for a translation). The Rotta is one of three contemporary ballads printed shortly after the battle, the other two were the work of the poet laureate John Skelton. In his The Ballade of the Scottyshe Kynge, which was hastily composed within days of the victory, and a heavily revised version, Agaynst the Scottes, Skelton vented his hatred of the 'barbarous' Scots and crowed over the devastating victory of English arms (Scattergood 1983). One other ballad of slightly later date is worthy of note: the Scottishe Feilde by Legh of Bageley (Baird 1982). As Flodden became increasingly seen as a Howard victory, the role of the Stanley family and its retainers in the conflict seemed to be going unrecognized. The poem, which was composed by 1515, was an attempt to give the Stanley view of the war and to counter the accusations of cowardice made against some of the Lancashire and Cheshire levies in the Articles. There are of course a number of later narrative histories which provide more developed accounts of the battle. Polydore Vergil's Historia, which was written in 1513 but not published until 1534, offers a brief account of the campaign and battle noting James IV's rashness as a cause of the defeat. Sir Edward Hall's triumphalist Union, first published in 1548, which is essentially a translation of Vergil's Latin history, is one of the most used by historians despite its late date because it offers the most detailed of battle narratives (Ellis 1809). Nonetheless, a large part of his account of Flodden is taken from Pynson's news pamphlet (Guttierez & Erler 1986).

sufficient information given in the three texts to allow the identification of the major units and of their approximate location in the landscape. The Articles reported how 'The King of scottes army was dividid into. v. bataills/ and evry bataill an arrowe shotte from the other/ and all like fames from the Englissh Armye ... ' (PROSP49/1/f.18). The two other texts differ in the number of 'bataills' assigned to the Scots, with the Trewe Encountre giving them only four 'great batells' and the Thordre and Behauyoure adding two 'great batayles of the Scottes besyds these'. James entrusted each of these divisions to his most trusted noble captains. Alexander Home, his Chamberlain, and Alexander Gordon, 3rd Earl of Huntly led the left wing of the host. To their immediate right stood the contingents of the Earls of Crawford, Errol and Montrose, and King James commanded the third 'great batell' on their flank. The fourth division, posted on the eastern edge of Branxton Hill was placed under the leadership of Archibald Campbell, 2nd Earl of Argyll, and Matthew Stewart, Earl of Lennox. All the accounts agree that Surrey divided his army into four main commands. His son, Edmund Howard commanded a small 'wing' on the right of the line; his other son, Lord Admiral Thomas Howard, commanded the main body of the vanguard as a second batell. Surrey himself, although too old to lead his troops from the front, took command of the main division to the east of the admiral. The final division consisted of men levied from the estates of the Stanley's in Lancashire and Cheshire and was led by Sir Edward Stanley. Where the sources are unclear about the respective orders of battle is in the location of some of the other recorded 'units'. Pynson's news pamphlet, which reports six Scots divisions, says nothing of where the two additional bataills were posted or identifies who led them. The Articles, although it mentions five divisions, never refers to the fifth formation again in the narrative. The later Scottish accounts have King James' army deployed on the battlefield as they were organised on the march, in three formations: vanguard, main battle and rearguard. There is no hint of any changes in the array of the army at a tactical level. George Buchanan, following the Trewe Encountre, gives the Scots four 'battalia' as opposed to the six commands of the English host. However, Buchanan is the first C16th narrative to record that '[Patrick] Hepburn, earl of Bothwell, and his vassals, with the rest of the Lothian nobility, were in the reserve' (History, 256). Hodgkin (1894) and Mackenzie (1931) follow the Articles and depict the Scots order of battle with all five divisions in a line from west to east. This array has also been followed by Phillips (1999) in his recent study of Anglo-Scottish warfare. However, the general consensus among historians has been to place the fifth 'bat ell' in reserve under Bothwell, behind the front line of four (cf. Seymour 1975; Parsons 2000). A question mark remains over the whereabouts of Lord Dacre's border horsemen. What evidence there is, coming from the Scottishe Feilde and the reports of the intervention of at least a portion of Dacre' s men in the

The three main battle narratives, the Articles, and Faques and Pynson's news sheets, provide the earliest details of how the opposing armies were arrayed for action. There is

54

Patrick JF. Parsons: Flodden Field: the sources and archaeology of 'a marvelouse greate conflicte'

fighting on the western end of the field, suggests they were arrayed somewhere on the English right wing to reinforce Edmund Howard's command (Mackenzie 1931). This division had been considered sufficiently weak as to warrant strengthening it with some of the Stanley retainers from Lancashire and Cheshire. The position of Sir Edward Stanley's command is, on the face of it, straightforward. The Articles, Trewe Encountre and Thordre and Behauyoure include it in the main line and report that it engaged the enemy. Yet none of the contemporary accounts give any details of the fight other than that it fought the Earls of Argyll and Lennox and won. This should not be surprising given the prominence of the Howards in the Flodden story. Only Hall's much later Union gives any further information. He describes how Sir Edward Stanley, 'captayn of the left wynge', 'clame up to the toppe of the hyll called Bramston' and engaged Argyll and Lennox (and erroneously Huntly). Stanley and his men then pursued the fleeing Scots down onto the moor and 'fell a spoyling, and spoyled the kynge of Scottes, and many that were slayne in his bataill'. Buchanan seems to lend credence to Hall's description of events on the Scottish right wing, relating how it was caught by the English before it could advance from the hill to aid the king. Edward Stanley was subsequently rewarded for his good service by Henry VIII and made Lord Monteagle, a title which is rather suggestive of his actions on the field (Miller 1986). Stanley's arrival had, like Norfolk's at Towton, been a fortuitous occurrence for the English but a critical and decisive one for the Scots. Leading his men up the slopes of the eastern side of Branxton Hill unseen, and straight onto their flanks, the last uncommitted Scottish bate!! was driven from the field and the victory made inevitable.

the additional concern of having to match the frontage of the enemy. To have any chance of resisting the Scots they were forced to conform their array to theirs, including their spacing, even if this meant weakening the main battle-line by thinning its depth to do so. Thus with the aid of the Articles we can attempt to plot the approximate position of the individual commands on the battlefield, something which has never been possible for most medieval battlefields. In addition to this body of, admittedly often rather confused, source material the battlefield landscape itself has produced a number of material relics which can only serve to excite our imaginations as historians and archaeologists. The battlefield site lies three miles south of Coldstream, and remains surprisingly untouched by modem housing or road developments, in contrast to many other medieval battle sites like Tewkesbury (Marren 1999) which are regularly under threat of destruction. This is in part due to its isolation from major centres of population which has reduced the threat posed by population overspill. The battlefield is also fortunate in not being a major thoroughfare for traffic in the area, with the main A697 road (originally the A693) bounding its eastern edge. A modem memorial, which was erected in 1910 by the Berwickshire Naturalists Club, is sited on a small hillock which is often referred to as Piper's or Pipard's Hill. Neither of these names was known to locals when members of the Society of Antiquaries ofNewcastle-uponTyne visited the area in July 1858 and subsequently published a report on their visit (White 1859). The name Piper's Hill may well stem from its role as a focus for the later commemorative rituals of the local area. Hodgkin (1894) believed it to be the site of James IV's death as the C16th History of England of John Stow claimed. More recent incursions on the site have been limited to a small car park for visitors to the field, although plans for a visitors centre were considered by the local council in the early 1990s and rejected. Until the late C18th the area around Branxton and the battlefield was still 'an open moor'. Gradually the landscape was developed, with the planting of hedgerows in the 1790s, and the cutting of drains for the owner of Branxton Hill, Henry Collingwood, in the early 1800s (White 1859). It was during these changes to the Branxton area that a number of battlefield discoveries were made which were later reported in the pages of the Archaeologia Aeliana.

In the process of deploying their hosts for battle the Scots and English captains had to take into account the numbers of soldiers present, the terrain chosen, and the agreed plan of battle. One of the main concerns during this pre-battle stage was to ensure there was sufficient space between their divisions to avoid crowding the battleline. Too many troops crammed into too small a frontage would make any form of movement difficult, and would prevent many of the men from fighting at all. This was especially true of the Scots who had to array thousands of men and guns along a front of around 1500m, their deployment being constrained by the topography of Branxton Hill. The Articles, and this is a further indication of its value for the military historian and archaeologist, gives a rare estimate of the spacing of a late medieval army: the Scots commanders maintained the distance of an 'arrowe shotte' between the commands. There is little clear idea of what distance the term 'arrowe shotte was intended to convey, and this is perhaps not the place to enter into the complexities of late medieval archery. Suffice to say that the various bataills may have been separated by anything up to 250m. Most published maps of the battle, even when a ground scale is included, usually exaggerate the spacing of the divisions, and their frontage (see Fig. 2). As the English were unsuccessful in their attempt to choose their ground Surrey was faced with

Flodden was decided in a markedly medieval way, through prolonged hand-to-hand combat - the trading of 'handstrokes'. The close-quarter nature of the fighting, with both armies choosing to fight dismounted, explains why so few Scottish noble and gentleman prisoners were taken for ransom by the English. The opportunity for either side to give or take quarter was greatly reduced in the claustrophobic conditions of a massed melee. A testament to the savagery of the fighting at Flodden are the various claims of casualties inflicted by the English. English sources claimed variously that 10,000-17,000 Scots had been killed, the Articles reporting only 400 English 55

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Patrick JF. Parsons: Flodden Field: the sources and archaeology of 'a marvelouse greate conflicte'

clearly placed at its present location because of its vicinity to the wargrave found in 1818. It is also unclear what state the remains were in, though Jones did remark that his churchyard was "exceedingly dry"; nor is there any reference to any obvious signs of wounds on the skulls or bones (Jones 1858-9).

ballistic artifacts and human remains made last century. The reasons for this lack of interest are not difficult to understand. Medieval battlefields are extremely difficult to locate with precision in the landscape, the absence of obvious physical structures, such as field works, reducing them to little more than anonymous patches of open countryside (cf. Foss 1990; Knight 1998 on Bosworth). Meanwhile, the written documentary record of such battles is often variable in quality and quantity, only rarely providing anything like an eyewitness account of the course of the battle. The case of Flodden Field is rather different. The location of the battlefield has long been known and the physical landscape survives relatively intact and largely accessible to field work. Furthermore, any future study of the Flodden landscape can be undertaken with the support of a considerable collection of written and printed documents.

Both the Trewe Encountre and the Thordre and Behauyoure report the battle beginning with an artillery exchange. According to most accounts the Scots seemed to have been the losers in the bombardment, with the Trewe Encountre claiming the Scottish master gunner as a casualty (STC 11908; Laing 1866-67). The Scottish host is recorded as having some 17 heavy calibre guns of brass: five demi-curtauts, two coolveryns, four demi-coolveryns, and six sakers and serpentyns (PRO ElOl/62/25); in addition there was an unknown number of divers othir ordnance, which may well have included the two loads of hagbushes (arquebuses) and pellets carried to Berwick in the days after the battle (PRO ElOl/61/27). The English brought 23 guns to the field, the artillery train being composed of mostly light calibre pieces, around 18 fawcons and five serpentyns of brass (PRO ElOl/62/25). The presence of some 40 field guns at Flodden makes the conflict one of the largest concentrations of early gunpowder artillery pieces on any British battlefield prior to the civil wars of the 1640s.

Battlefields possess many perceived meanings and functions. They may act as landscapes of memory, as places of mourning and, in the case of Flodden, as a focus for pilgrimage. They also provide rich resources for the study of battles as events in human experience and culture. Archaeologists have shown what can be gleaned from the analysis of the bone and iron of the battlefields of Towton and Wishy. Flodden too can open up another window on the world of the medieval soldier, where the reality of battle was often a matter of brute force and simple butchery. This time military historians and archaeologists can advance our knowledge of medieval battle through an examination of what happened when Scots and English met to exchange 'handstrokes'. The prospect and potential for the study of Scotland's most 'hideous debacle' (Wormald 1981) is, as Thomas Ruthal would have recognised, 'marvelouse greate'.

According to White (1859) evidence of this 'firefight' had been found across the Branxton area. A number of examples of gunshot of differing materials and weights were found in locations which identify them as being fired from the Scottish artillery deployed on Branxton Hill. Most of the reported fmds are located at the western end of the English line of battle. One reported example was a 13.51b lead shot which was discovered during the draining of the western end of the Pallinsburn, possibly in the early 1800s (cf. Fig. 3). This is likely to be a shot from one of the heavier calibre demi-curtauts. Another lead shot, with no details about its weight, was again dug up at the western end of the battlefield by the then owner of Branxton Hill. The shot was found near to Piper's Hill and the burial. Another gunshot, this time of iron, was discovered during the course of ploughing the field close to the church (Jones 1858). Other known finds from the Branxton area include three examples of stone shot, which were part of a small assemblage of artifacts reported to be still in the possession of the descendants of Andrew Rankin in the early 1970s (Green 1976).

References Aikman J. (transl) 1827-9 Buchanan, George, The History of Scotland. (Edinburgh). Baird I.F. 1982 Scottish Feilde and Flodden Feilde: two Flodden poems. (Edinburgh). Bates C.J. 1894 Flodden Field. Archaeologia Aeliana 16: 351-372. Bennett M. 1985 The Battle of Bosworth. (Stroud). Bliese J.R.E. 1998 Saint Cuthbert and war. Journal of Medieval History 24/3: 215-241. Boardman A. 1994 The Battle of Bosworth. (Alan Sutton, Stroud). Boylston A. 1997 Burials from the Battle ofTowton. Royal Armouries Yearbook 2: 36-39. Elliot F. 1911 The Battle of Flodden and the Raids of 1513. (Edinburgh). Ellis H. (ed.) 1809 Sir Edward Hall, The Union of the two noble and illustre famelies of Lancastre and Yorke. (London). Fiorato V., Bolyston A & Kunsel C. 2000 Blood Red Roses: the archaeology of a mass grave from the Batt! e of Towton AD 1461. ( Oxford). Foss P.J. 1990 The field of Redemore: the Battle of

Flodden has long been recognized as a watershed in the history of the late medieval British Isles (Nicholson 1974; Macdougall 1989). Historiographical debates have centred on why Flodden was fought at all and what responsibility James IV should hold for the disaster. The military aspects of 1513 have concerned the contribution of tactics and technology to the eventual outcome of Flodden (Parsons 1995; Phillips 1998 & 1999). Archaeologists on the other hand have curiously ignored the site of Scotland's greatest military defeat, despite the reports of discoveries of 59

Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

Bosworth, 1485. (Leeds). Grant A. 1998 Disaster at Neville's Cross: The Scottish point of view. In D.Rollason & M.Prestwich ( edd.) The Battle of Neville's Cross, 1346. (Stanford): 1535. Green H. 1976 Flodden 1513. Battle 3, No. I (January): 1415. Guttierez N.& Erler M. 1986 Print into manuscript: a Flodden Field news pamphlet (BL Additional MS 29506). Studies in Medieval and Renaissance History 8: 189-230. Hannay R.K. (ed.) 1915 Rentale Dunkeldense 1505-1517, Scottish History Society. (Edinburgh). Hannay R.K. (ed.) 1932 Acts of the Lords of the Council in public affairs, 1501-1554. (Edinburgh). Hay D. (ed.) 1951 Polydore Vergil Historia Anglica. (Camden Society, London). Hodgkin T. 1894 The Battle of Flodden. Archaeologia Aeliana 16: 1-45. Jones R. 1858-1859 Letter of Rev. Robert Jones. 6 November 1858. Archaeologia Aeliana 3, 2nd series (1859): 231-235. Knight D.J. 1998 Where a kingdom was lost and won: finding the real Bosworth battlefield. Military Illustrated 126 (November): 34-39. Konstam A. 1996 Pavia 1525: the climax of the Italian Wars. (London). Laing D. (ed.)1830 John Lesley, The History of Scotland, from the death of King James I in the year 1436, to the year 1561. (Edinburgh). Laing D. 1866-7 A contemporary account of the Battle of Flodden. Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries ofScotland7: 141-152. Macdougall N. 1989 James IV (Edinburgh). Mackay A.J.G. (ed.) 1899 Robert Lindsay of Pitscottie, The Historie and Chronicles of Scotland, from the slauchter of King James the First to the Ane thousande fyve hundreith thrie scoir fyftein zeir written and collected by Robert Lindsay of Pitscottie. Scottish Text Society, (Edinburgh). MacKenzie W.M. 1931 The secret of Flodden. (Edinburgh). Marren P. 1999 The battlefield at Tewkesbury. Battlefields Review 3: 21-30. Miller H. 1986 Henry VIII and the English nobility. (Oxford). Nicolle D. 1996 Fornovo 1495: France's fighting retreat. (London). Nicholson R. 1974 Scotland: The Middle Ages. (Edinburgh). Parsons P.J.F. 1995 'After the Almayns maner' ? The army of James IV. In E.A. Cameron & F.J.Watson (edd.) Scotland and war. (Edinburgh): 14-24. Parsons P.J.F. 2000 Where the flower of Scotland died. Scotland's Story 17: 8-11. Phillips G. 1998 In the shadow of Flodden: tactics, technology and Scottish military effectiveness, 1513-1550. Scottish Historical Review 72, No.204 (October): 162-182. Phillips G. 1999 The Anglo-Scots Wars 1513-1550.

(Woodbridge). Pinkerton J. 1797 The History of Scotland, vol. 2. (London). Prestwich M.C. 1998 The English at the Battle of Neville's Cross. In D.Rollason & M.Prestwich (edd.) The Battle of Neville's Cross, 1346. (Stanford): 1-14. Raine A. (ed.) 1942 York Civic Records. Yorkshire Archaeological Society 106: 41-42. Ross C. 1981 Richard Ill. (Eyre Meuthen, London). Ruddiman T. (ed.) 1722 Epistolae Jacobi Quarti, Jacobi Quinti et Maria Regum Scottorum ... ab anno 1505 ad annum 1545, Vol.I. (Edinburgh). Scattergood J. (ed.) 1983 John Skelton: the Complete English poems. (London). SeymourW. 1975 Battles in Britain 1066-1547. (London). Thordeman B. 1939 Armour from the Battle of Visby, 2 vols. (Uppsala). Tyson C. 1992 The Battle of Otterburn: when and where was it fought ? In A. Goodman & A. Tuck ( edd.) War and Border societies in the Middle Ages. (London): 65-154. Vickers K.H. 1922 A history of Northumberland, vol. 11. (Newcastle). White R. 1859 The Battle of Flodden. Archaeologia Aeliana 3: 197-235. Wormald J. 1981 Court, kirk, and community: Scotland 1470-1625. (London).

60

"Made in Scotland?": sword-making in Scotland in the C15th and C16th in the context of recent archaeological evidence Effie Photos-Jones tradition of families of smiths like the MacEachems who " ...were famous sword makers to the Lord of the Isles" (Grant & Cheape 1987: 82) or the MacNabs ofDahnally or the MacRurys hereditaiy smiths and armourers to the MacDonalds of Sleat ( Grant & Cheape 1987: 197) and (b ): the recent excavations at bloomery sites (Atkinson & Photos-Jones 1997; 1999a) suggesting organised and largescale operations presumably to serve the needs in tools and weapons of a larger community. In short the statement about the dependence of Scotland on foreign blades may be applicable only within a particular regional and/or a chronological framework or indeed for certain typological groups of objects. For example, well-established workshops in the Continent would always find a market for their goods in Scotland or elsewhere for that matter. Passau was a well established sword making centre by the early 1300s while at Solingen 'the gild of swordsmiths' was founded in 1472 and it is thought that its smiths were forging blades by around ADIOOO (Bezdek 2000: 16). Other centres included Potsdam (Bezdek 2000: 21).

Abstract Relatively little work has been done on the technical examination of early Scottish weapons. Even less work has been undertaken in setting them into the context of the bloomeries and smithies that produced them. Despite a long tradition in iron making in Scotland, it has been assumed that already from the 1400s most sword blades were produced in 'Europe' and imported en masse into Scotland, only their hilts made and fitted locally. A rare opportunity arose to test this long standing assumption when permission was granted to examine chemically and metallographically two hand-and-a-half (bastard) swords dating to the C15th and C16th respectively and a C16th dagger from the collection of the Glasgow and Ayr Museums with the aim of establishing whether some of them might have been produced locally from local ores. The large analytical data that is now available from the excavation and technical characterisation of bloomery mounds in the Scottish Highlands and metalworking installations in the Lowlands makes this provenance study possible, albeit with suggestive, but not necessarily, always conclusive results. This report suggests that the two handand-a-half blades could well have been produced locally thus raising the need to qualify the question of mass imports. The dagger despite its Scottish typology might be an import. Irrespective of origin all three objects are hardly ceremonial and would have served their owners well in the battlefield, being well made functional steel blades, perhaps reflecting local workshop/clan smithing traditions.

Little work has been done on the technical examination of early Scottish weapons mainly on account of the relative scarcity of the artefacts themselves and their general lack of availability for sampling. Studies undertaken so far have been largely art historical in nature (Willis 1996; Scott 1963; 1981), the main criteria for dating and provenancing being based on structural and decorative aspects like the shape of quillons, length of the blade, pommel decoration etc., parallels found in the tomb effigies of the Lords of the Isles (see, for example, RCAHMS 1982) and comparisons drawn with their European counterparts.

Introduction Technical provenancing of iron artifacts is based primarily on the chemical fingerprinting of the slag inclusions that remained trapped within the metal matrix and their matching with analysis of bloomery slags. Although these fmgerprints can hardly be indicative of a particular place of origin, they can usually point to the type of iron ore used and, by extension, to its regional/geological context. This methodological approach to provenance presupposes that there is already a considerable amount of information in place regarding both iron mineralisation and iron smelting practices as well as characteristic fmgerprinting elements for these ores. The Historic Scotland funded project Bloomeries in the Scottish Highlands (Atkinson & PhotosJones 1997; 1999a; Photos-Jones et al 1998; Hall & Photos-Jones 1998) has succeeded in establishing the variety of iron ore sources used in the bloomeries of the medieval and post-medieval periods and the slag and furnace typology related to these installations.

Despite a long tradition of iron making in Scotland it has been attested that swords were expensive, local expertise was lacking and therefore the blades for the swords of the nobles and gentry were imported from the Continent already by the 1400s. Caldwell (1998: 58) states that " ...much of the military equipment used by the Scots had to be imported from abroad, but the government did encourage local production, and foreign craftsmen to come and settle... Sword blades, including large ones for fashionable two handed swords, were all imported mostly from Germany, but they were mounted here by armourers with distinctive Scottish hilts. Scottish cutlers produced daggers, and bowyers manufactured not just bows but shafts for other weapons". Although the veracity of this statement cannot be disputed given the documentary evidence by which it is backed, it is possible that such practices may not have been applicable 'across the board'. For example, for the west of Scotland and for the period preceding the Cl 6th this statement needs to be set in the context of the following: (a): the long oral

In examining the development of the 'Scottish two hander from its single handed ancestor' it has been assumed " ...that most two handed blades mounted with Scottish hilts

61

Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

were 'European' in origin, or at least not of Scottish manufacture. Sword blades were rarely made in Scotland at this time (C15th and C16th)" - Willis 1996: 12). Although it has for long been recognized that " ...this area still requires further research", little could be said, at least from the technical point of view, until metallurgical waste associated with the bloomeries was characterized chemically and mineralogically. With a Scottish bloomeries' slag signature in place, the chemical composition of slag inclusions within the artifacts can now be investigated and the question of imported vs. local blades addressed.

GM2 GM2 (Reg.No. 1902.73.nk: cf. Fig. lb) is a Scottish Lowland(?) dagger dated to the late C16th /early C17th found in the bed of the River Clyde sometime in the C19th probably together with GMI (R. Woosnam-Savage pers. comm.). The form of the dagger is known as a 'dudgeon', or bollock dagger. They " ...were being carried by the wellborn in Scotland and England right from the C15th, when they were commonplace, up to the Cl 7th" (Blair & Wallace 1963: 13). James V is depicted with one on a carving of about 1540 in Stirling Castle. They have been identified as being from Lowland Scotland (Beard 1941: 211 ). This type is a descendant of the earlier bollock knife which was found commonly throughout northern Europe from about 1300 (Blair 1962: 13), and the earliest known representation in Scotland is " ...dateable to the late Cl 4th" (Caldwell 1979: 27). Samples were taken from: (a) along the blade near the tip, a wedge-shaped section (2b ), (b) along the blade, near the hilt, a wedge-shaped section (2c ), and (c) blade at the tip, a transverse section (2d).

It should be emphasized that the matching of the chemical

composition of slag inclusions within metal and that of bloomery slags, with the scanning electron microscope attached to an energy dispersive analyzer (SEM-EDAX), can only be suggestive rather than conclusive. Fingerprinting of ore bodies, particularly those of minor economic significance, is a costly and labour intensive analytical process requiring the exhaustive chemical characterization of a large number of iron ore deposits both in Scotland and abroad followed by the chemical characterisation of slag inclusions within an equally large number of contemporary artifacts. This task is beyond the scope of the present research.

GM8 GM8 (Reg.No. LA 7719 (Loan)) (see Fig. le) is a Scottish hand-and-a-half (bastard) sword dated to about 1410. It was recovered from the River Ayr. The blade is thought to be European (R. Woosnam-Savage pers. comm.). It lacks both pommel and grip and has a broken cross. Two-handed swords were commonly used in the C16th (Caldwell 1979: 24 ). This particular example greatly resembles that on the gravestone of Gilbert de Greenlaw, in Kinkell churchyard, Aberdeenshire. De Greenlaw was killed at the Battle of Harlaw, and the date 1411 is found on the slab. The sword is one of five known, dated between the late C 14th and the late Cl 5th (Willis 1996: 13). It would also appear that this form of sword was used throughout Scotland and was not restricted to 'Highland' or 'Lowland' cultures (Willis 1996: 14). Samples were taken from: (a) the tip of the broken terminal of quillon (Sb), (b) the upper section of blade near the cross (Sc 1), and (c) the lower section of blade near the tip (8c2).

Given the preceding comments, it is essential to address the issue of the technical characterization of the artifacts both from the point of view of their metallography (how they were made) as well as their slag inclusions (which type of ore they were made of) and by extension their provenance (see Figs. la - c). In this report three artefacts have been examined, two, part of the Glasgow Museum's collection (GMI and GM2), the third in the collection of Ayr Museum (GM8). The typology and chronology of each is summarised in the table below together with any published work undertaken so far. The hand-and-a-half swords and the kidney dagger The term 'hand-and-a-half or 'bastard' sword is used for weapons which were " ...much bigger than the average Arming Sword with its 30ins (76.2cms) blade but smaller than the big 'Twahandswerd' with a blade measuring 55ins (139.7cms)" - Oakeshott 1990: 12). The longer grip allowed the sword to be used with either one hand, or, if needed be, with both (Oakeshott 1960: 308). These swords were in use between the C13th and Cl 6th.

Scott (1981: 12) describes the Ayr sword as: " ...(it) is 3ft 7in ( 1.113m) in length, with a straight, double-edged blade, 35ins (0.892m) long, 2ins (64mm) wide at the cross, without a ricasso and tapering gradually to a blunt tip. On each side a shallow groove runs out some 16ins (406mm) below the cross. The tang is rectangular in section, and tapering; pommel and grip are missing. The cross is of iron; it consists of a shallow central socket extending about lin (25mm) up the tang, with two tongues of similar size extending below down the blade. One arm survives, sloping downwards to end in a spatulate tip. The cross is still held in place by an iron wedge driven down between tang and socket".

GMl GMI (Reg.No. 1902.73.nj: cf. Fig. la) is a Scottish Lowland hand-and-a-half sword dated to about ?1560-80 (R. Woosnam-Savage pers. comm.). It was found in the bed of the River Clyde (Glasgow) in the C19th, probably at the same time as the 'dudgeon' dagger, (GM2). Samples were taken from: (a) the tip of bent terminal of quillon (lb), (b) the blade at the tip, transverse section (ldl), and (c) along the blade, wedge-shaped section (le).

Fig. 2a gives a diagrammatic illustration of the Ayr sword (after Scott 1981: Fig. 5) and that of its better-known equivalent on display in the Art Gallery and Museum, Kelvingrove. The downward sloping spatulate terminal

62

Effie Photos-Jones: "Made in Scotland?": sword-making in Scotland in the Cl 5th and Cl 6th

Figure la. GMl (Reg.No: 1902.73nj): The River Clyde hand-and-a-half sword (Copyright: The Glasgow Museums).

Figure lb. GM2 (Reg.No: 1902.73.nk): The River Clyde bollock dagger (Copyright: The Glasgow Museums).

Figure 2a. Left: hand-a-half sword, probably Scottish, Cl5 1\ Glasgow Museum and Art Gallery. Right: GM8, hand-and-ahalf sword froom the River Ayr. Kyle and Garrick District Museums (on loan to the Glasgow Museums) After Scott 1981: Figure 5.

Figure le. GM8 (Reg.No: LA 7719.LOAN): The River Ayr hand-and-a-half sword (Copyright: The Glasgow Museums).

Figure 2b. GM4 (Reg.No: 1940.45.hj. Whitelaw Collection): The "Whitelaw" Claymore c. 1530. Glasgow Art Gallery Museum ( Copyright The Glasgow Museums).

63

Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

cross considered by the same author to be of Scottish origin is in evidence from the third quarter of the C 14th. Scott (1981: 15) suggested that the term 'claymore' " ...should be reserved for the true claymore of the sixteenth century, the quillons of which have quatrefoil terminals" but noted this term may actually be incorrect (R. Woosnam-Savage pers. comm.). For an illustration of a quatrefoil claymore see Fig. 2b, the Whitelaw claymore, c.1530.

wide availability of coal at least in the areas with extensive coal measures outcropping since earliest times, must have served as the most evident source of fuel. Indeed 'High bloomery' slags, normally produced in a bloomery furnace with a tall shaft and driven by water powered bellows, containing umeacted fragments of coal appear to be evident in a C14th-C15th iron-making context within medieval urban Perth (Photos-Jones & Atkinson 1998: Fig. 6). This might imply an earlier use of coal than was originally thought (perhaps in association with the ore rather than as fuel). However, confirmation for the existance of a high bloomery in Scotland is yet to be attested.

How local is local ? a question of methodology In early iron making (bloomery) furnaces the iron was never molten and thus unable to separate efficiently the metal from the molten slag. Small slag inclusions were always trapped within, delicately stretched along the line of working (hammering) and reflecting the composition of the smelting slag itself (see Fig. 3a). Scottish medieval and post-medieval iron making relied upon the smelting of primarily bog iron and/or sideritic type of ores in a low shaft furnace or hearth. Bog iron ores, by far the more widely used ores in early bloomeries, consist of ferric oxyhydroxides. Iron oxyhydroxides is the general name for amorphous and crystalline hydrous precipitates of Fe+2 and Fe+3. They contain phosphates of biochemical origin but can also contain iron phosphate hydrate. Manganese is also associated with bog iron ores but the manganese is likely to derive from locally emiched rocks such as manganeferrous limestones and or schists (Hall & PhotosJones 1998). Therefore, although not unusual, manganese and phosphorus are essentially impurities in the ore, can vary in their respective amounts because of the local environment and they can serve as fingerprinting elements in association with others.

Figure 3a. SEM-BS image of a slag inclusion in iron bloom from a c13th context in Rothsay Castle, Isle of Bute. Dendrites of wustite are shown in a matrix of iron silicate. Material is ferrite.

Fine grained siderites are also included in clayband ironstones which are commonly found associated with the coal measures in the central belt of Scotland. Clayband ironstones are known to have been smelted with coke already from the middle of the Cl 8th firstly at the Carron Ironworks near Falldrk, but blackband ironstones were not smelted until the C19th, after the introduction of the hot blast in pig making furnaces, a process which made away with coke and used coal directly. However in the early C 17th there is documentary evidence for sideritic type of ores 'imported' from Fife to Loch Maree, Wester Ross, to be used in Sir George Hay's charcoal operated blast furnace, among Scotland's earliest large scale commercial ventures (Atkinson & Photos-Jones 1999a). Small amounts of magnesium and/or manganese are normally associated with sideritic ores thus providing a means of tracing Sir George's ore supplies.

Figure 3b. SEM-BS image ofa sample ofbloomery slag from Ardnamuchan (BARD IO). Dendrites ofwustite are shown against needles offayalite (light grey) and silicate matrix (dark grey). Scottish Highland and Lowland bloomery slags comprise of four distinct mineralogical phases: fayalite (FeO.SiO 2), wustite (FeO), interstitial glass and occasionally hercynite (AbO 3 .FeO). Fig. 3b shows a typical Highland bloomery slag with all four phases present from a bloomery site in Ardnamuchan in north-west Scotland. Each mineralogical phase has its own distinct chemical composition but can also contain a number of other elements in small

In terms of fuel, Scottish Highland bloomeries used the supply of widely available charcoal as a means of preheating/drying the furnace as well as smelting the ore. Some coastal bloomeries where wood might have been scarce might have resorted to preheating with seaweed and smelting with drift wood, although sufficient evidence is yet to be built on that front. In areas of the Lowlands, the

64

Effie Photos-Jones: "Made in Scotland?": sword-making in Scotland in the Cl 5th and Cl 6th

concentrations with no significant alteration in its mineralogical structure. In comparing Figs. 3a and 3b it is clear that only two of the three or four phases present in the bloomery slag are usually evident in slag inclusions, namely wustite and the interstitial glass. Wustite can accommodate manganese or titanium, fayalite can accommodate small quantities of calcium while the glassy phase acts as a depository of all elements present in the ore, fuel and flux which are not present in sufficient quantities to form a separate phase of their own. In terms of the relative percentage the glass phase is the smallest and yet it is this phase that passes consistently from the furnace to the metal artefact. Therefore, if like is to be compared with like, it is on the chemical characterisation of the glassy phase in both bloomery slag and metal artefact slag inclusion that the debate on provenance has to be based.

and sulfur. Williams (1991: Table 2) presents a set of slag inclusion analysis and also a table of calculated ratios of Ca/Si, Al/Si and Mn/Si. The ratios of the three elements described above are very similar for the two armour centres; their Scottish equivalents also fall within the same range. Williams' work showed that there is little evidence to differentiate the Milanese from the German sources given that the ores are sideritic in both cases. Be that as it may, the same argument could be applied for the ore used in Scottish weapons. 'Made in Scotland' or not ? : the scientific evidence The composition of a number of slag inclusions in artifacts GMl, GM2 and GM8 are presented in Table 2. Slag inclusion typology includes both single (glass) and two phase (wustite and glass) inclusions. A total of four to six SEM-EDAX point analyses were made on an equivalent number of single phased (glass) inclusions in each metallographic section. Only the phases which have an iron content of less than 55% FeO (typical glass composition) have been taken into consideration, so that a valid comparison with the composition of the glassy phase within the bloomery slags can be made. A mean value is reported for each section and this value is then compared with the mean of bloomery slags from a variety of localities (Table 1).

Table 1 presents the composition of the glass phase only for a number of bloomery slags from a variety of geographical locations in the Highlands to include Argyllshire, Perthshire and Invemesshire (Photos-Jones et al 1998: Table 1). They are characterised by the presence of high manganese and phosphorus and low potassium and calcium contents. Dumfries and Galloway slags from Hoddom, Dumfriesshire (Photos-Jones 1997) are low in manganese and phosphorus but high in potassium and calcium as well as barium. Samples from the east coast (Domoch, Domoch Firth) stand somewhere in the middle. Overall it is suggested that there are no unusual fingerprinting elements which stand out and by which these ores can be clearly distinguished. Rather, it is on the relative variation between manganese and phosphorus, calcium, potassium and barium that fingerprinting of these slags must rest. This is not true for other types of carbonate ores like the blackband ironstones predominant in the coal measures of Ayrshire and Lanarkshire. These ores appear to contain important fingerprinting elements like vanadium, chromium, nickel etc, which partition both in the slag and in the metal.

GM8 The slag inclusions both at the tip of broken terminal of quillon (8b) and the upper section of the blade near the cross (8cl) are high in P 2 O5+MnO. In the case of the quillon, in K2O +CaO as well. The suggestion therefore is that quillon and blade may have been made from different 'batches' of blooms welded together as would have been normal practice. Given the high manganese and phosphorus contents, the object (blade and hilt) was most likely produced from local bog iron ore. This is an important conclusion since, although composition alone can not definitely exclude the possibility of the blade having been made abroad, it clearly suggests that the sword could well have been made in Scotland from local ores. Its very early date (c.1410), at least on art historical grounds, fits very well with the dates for the working of bloomeries like that at Allt na Caerdaich (or Smiths Bum) in Argyllshire which give a C-14 date of 1450s-1650s (Atkinson & Photos-Jones 1999b). These activities testify to organized large-scale production perhaps on the level of clan smiths, certainly above that of the Highland farmersmith making and mending iron for his own needs.

With the notable exception of Williams (1991) relatively little work has been undertaken on the slag analysis of slag inclusions within European arms and armour. This may be due to the fact that at least for the C16th centres of production are well known, thus making provenance studies redundant. Nevertheless, William's work has provided some 'European' basis of comparison against which the 'Scottish' swords analytical data can be examined. The slag inclusions in samples of metal from 70 suits of armour were examined with SEM-EDAX from two main European centres of armour production (at least in the C16th), ie. South Germany - Numberg, Augsburg, Lanshut and Innsbruck and North Italy - Milan and Brescia. What is not clear is whether these analyses represent the overall composition of the slag inclusion or that of its glass constituent only. The Brescia-Bergamo region supplied the Milanese workshops with sideritic ores while the Styrian Erzberge provided their German counterparts also with sideritic ores devoid of phosphorus

The metallographic sections were also examined to establish how the object was made. Metallographic investigation ( cf. Figs. 4a and 4b) of GM8 showed that for samples taken from: (a): the tip of the broken terminal of quillon (8b): the section consists of ferrite grains with pearlite at the grain boundaries displaying low carbon content (c.0.2%C). Hardness is that of ferrite with small amounts of 65

~

~

f;~

TABLE I: SEM-EDAX analysis of the glassy phase in Bloomery slags from a variety oh Highland and Lowland locations: composition in weight percent ; nm ; not measured; n; normalised ; un; unnormalised.

~ ~

Na20

MgO

Al 2O 3

SiO 2

so,

P20 ~

K, O

CaO

T i0 2

M nO

FeO

BaO

interstitial

2.85

0

17.08

34.71

0.61

0.86

6.28

8. 16

1.89

5.48

22.0 7

nm

BCP22

interstitial

0

0

36.16

3.27

0

0 .37

0.06

0.09

0 .59

1.22

57.84

nm

Cowal Peninsula..Smith's Burn, Mound 1

BCP IO

interstitial

0 .54

0. 18

10.49

3 1.54

0

0

2. I 5

3.4 1

0.32

I0.85

40 .07

nm

Cowal Peninsul a_ Smi th's Bu m, Moun d 2

BCPl 3

interstitial

2.3 1

0

16.85

35.33

0 .8 1

0.9 1

4 .88

4.4

1.14

2.35

27.04

nm

Cowal Peninsula, Smith's Bum, Mound 2

BCPl 4

interstitial

3.8

0

15.42

37.77

1.72

I

5.99

4.29

1.47

209

26.4

nm

~

Allt Na Ca erdaich

XS BI

interstitial

0

0

21.03

51.29

0

0

15.51

0.86

0. 16

0.79

3.2 7

nm

~

All t Na Caerda ich

XSB2

interstitial

3. 14

0. 14

14.68

35. 18

1.71

1.27

6.03

4.16

0 .63

2,64

30.44

nm

Allt Na Cae rdaic h

XSB3

interstitial

0

0

4 1.74

2.28

0

0.47

0.08

0.05

0 .5 1

3.4

50.77

nm

Cowal Peninsula. B Rennie

BCP l

interstitial

1.78

0

29 .05

1.23

0 .79

2.57

1.44

10.49

35,08

nm

Cowa l Penin sula . Go rn, Bubhl ag

BC P6

interstitial

0.48

0.96

1.69

27.46

0

0

0.5

1.54

0 .. 11

27 .18

39 .95

nm

~

Cowa l Peninsula, Gorn , Bubhlag

BCP7

interstitial

1.73

0

17.87

35.8 1

1.33

1.4 1

4 . 14

5. 17

0

5.77

24.8

nm

E;l ~

Cowa l Peninsula_ Sunfi eld I

BCP&

interstitial

0 .86

0. 12

9.5 1

30.57

1.25

1.06

3.42

4.96

1.07

7.82

39.4

nm

Cowal Peninsula, Wh istlefield Roa d

BCPl7

interstitial

6.66

0

11.33

30 .38

1.62

0

4.57

4 .55

l.J I

2.4 1

37.2 1

nm

Cowa l Peninsul a, Whi stlefi eld Roa d

BCPl 8

interstitial

1.98

0

13.3 1

34 .18

0.65

1.46

4.2 1

5.44

0 .79

2.57

35.4 4

nm

Cowa l Peninsu la_ Hi gh Ha ll I

BCP19

interstitial

1.17

0

4. 18

25 .52

0.4

0

2.98

5. 17

0

7.22

51.65

nm

Cowal Peninsula, Strone Road End

BCP23

interstitial

2.87

0

17.62

36 .71

1.89

1.59

6.35

6.21

0.42

188

24.48

nm

Cow al Peni nsula_ Stron e Road E nd

BCP24

interstitial

2.56

0

12.08

32 .79

3.14

1.49

3.87

6.36

0.35

1.82

35 .56

nm

A rran, A llt Beithe NR 939 517

BAR3

interstitial

0 .65

0

12.83

47 .67

0.82

0.62

1.02

11 5

0.47

3.5 1

31.3

nm

Cnoc an U ird, Co lliemore 924505

BAR4

interstitial

2.69

0

14 .27

35 .02

1.77

1.42

6 . 15

8.5 1

0

l.85

27 .85

nm

Cas t le 'fields , Glenrosa (O S 063375)

BARS

interstitial

2 .05

0.22

11.69

33.05

0.55

158

3.68

13. 18

0.68

1.77

31.58

nm

Cnoc an Uird, Collie more 924 505

BARS

interstitial

0

0

13.64 38 .49

1.33

0.3 1

4 .21

7.23

0.43

2.1

31.89

nm

Ran noch Moor, Auli ch, surface find

BRMI

interstitial

2 .26

0

17.33

38.43

0.2

0

4 .3

8

0.4 8

0.57

28.46

nm

Rannoch Moor, Aulich, surface find

BR,\f l3

interstitial

2.59

0 1.62

14.8 7 345 .67

27 .7 695.7 1

0.85 21.8 8

0.29 16.9

2.97 95 .92

5,84 108.73

0 14.26

5.05 105.35

37.02 747.5

nm nm

bloomeries mean

interstitial

1.7

0. 07

15.113

30.15

0.95

0. 73

4.1 7

"- 73

0.61

4.58

32. 5

nm

Are a/site

Sa mple

Phase

Cowal Peninsula, Tamhaich Burn 2

BCP16

Cowal Peninsula, Tarnhaich Burn 1

~~

~

~

l

Bl

"' s· ~

(;l-

0\ 0\

12.02

5.56

a

~

~

"'

~

TABLE 1; SEM•EDAX analysis of the glassy phase in Bloomery slags from a variety oh Highland and Lowland locations: composition in weight percent; nm= not measured ; n= normalised; un = unnormalised.

0\

--.J

Na20

MgO

Al,O,

Si0 2

so,

P20;

K,O

CaO

0

0

608

45 .69

0.37

0.33

139

glass matrix

1.08 1.3 I

0 0.26

19. 18 12.55

51.86 33 .99

0 0.6

0 0.57

HODS

I~lass matrix

2.45

0

13.04

34.03

L23

0

H0D6A HOO6A

I 1!:lassmatrix

0

Hoddo m, Dumfrieshire

1.~lassmatrix

2.08

0 0

16.18 132

44.85 23.27

0 0.66

1.31

Hoddom, Dumfrieshire

HOD6D

Hoddom , Dumfrieshire

HOD6D

I12:lass matrix lizlass matrix:

0 1.76

0 0

13.64 12.43

27.26 24 .8

0.33 3.9 5

Hoddom, Dumfrieshire

HODS

glass.matrix

0.48

0

19.25

53.95

Hoddom, Dumfrieshire Hoddom, Dumfrieshire

HOD222lassl froth HODD 22•1asslbase

glass matrix glass matri x

l.92 0.75 11_83

0 0 0.26

15.36 16.11 157.02

(I

Area/site

Sample

Phase

Hoddom, Dumfriesh ire

HOD3glass

Qiass·matrix

Hoddom, Dumfrieshire Hoddom , Dumfries hire

HOD4a

glas s matrix:

HOD4a

Hoddom, Dumfrieshire

Hoddom, Dumfrieshire

Ti0

FeO

2

MnO

16.04

0.6

0

29.27

o

19.73 5.84

0.14 1235

0 0. 14

0.12

1.53

3.6 26 .76

3.59 2.68

22

21.67

0.88

o

21.84

2.62

14.08 2.5

0.26 9.52

0 0

0 0

22.82 45.03

1.8 2.13

0.25 0

4.41

5.44

13 18.44

0.97 0

0 0.13

32.88 31.57

7.25 1.43

026

0

19.51

0.3

0

0

3.55

2.69

40.08 38 .64 418 .42

0.42 0.26 8.08

0 0 2.46

8.22 7.84 91.16

9.93 5.99 107.64

0.34 0.52 3.45

0 0 1.78

22.4 29.19 268.91

0 .35 0.69 25.23

13.96

38.28

(1.74

0.21

8.08

JO.OJ

(1.31

(1.16

24.62

2.18

~

s·

0

BRO

hotltlom mean

gft1.n mlltrix

1.119

Forres, lnverness.

forres5 matrix

fgJass matrix

121

0.48

13.75

32.95

0.68

3.01

3.81

5.27

0.1

2.49

;;2.26

2.Dl

Forres, Inverness

forres7 w/sinal e oh l

I2lass matrix

1.88

0.21

lJ.32

30.19

1.05

4.31

4.69

7.45

0.28

2.39

31.69

2.52

Forres, Inverness

forres8 matrix

I1,1; lass matrix:

2.23

0. 17

9.65

24 .38

0

6.95

5.93

1.52

0 .08

0.99

47.89

0. 19

Forres , Inverness

forr esl O matrix

:!!lass matrix

2.19

0.37

15.01

34.06

0.49

0.74

6.85

5.35

0.0 7

4.84

27.55

2.49

Forres , Inverness Fo rres, Inverness

forres1•1•t11atri x

·glass .matrix

0 0.12

10.65 18.51

20.25 39.81

0.24 1.84

2.31 1.23

9.39

4.2 4.57

0.15 0

7.18

glass matrix

0 2.02

0.2

forres] l martix 2

115

54.83 17.29

0 4.07

ifo"es mean

gl"ss matrix

1.92

0.23

13.48

30.27

0,71

J, (19

5.15

4 73

0.11

3.17

35.25

1.88

dom 4 dom7 dornl2

glass matrix szlass matrix glass.matrix

0.83 0.46 0.54 183

0.16 0.36 0.17 0 .69

16.9 14.44 6.7 38.04

32.25 31.48 32.94 96.67

0.87 0.94 0.34 2.15

1.15

I0.2 10.4 1 12.66 33.27

0.1 0

1.86

0.1

nm

0.2

1.86

28.58 51.74 39.48 119.8

1.73

1.42 1.42 3.99

5.36 3.87 5.15 14.38

0.03 0.42 2.18

0.61

11.21

12.68

32.22

II. 72

1.33

4.79

0

nm

19,93

0.72

Na20

MgO

Alz03

Si0 2

S0 3

PzOs

K20

CaO

Ti0

2

MnO

FeO

BaO

1.7 1.92 1.09 0.61

0.23 0 0.23

15.03 13.48 13.96 12.68

30.25 30.27 38.28 32.22

0.95 0.72 0.74 0.72

0.73 3.09 0.21 1.33

4.17 5.15 8.08 4.79

4.73 4.73 J0.01 11.09

0.62 0.11 0.32 0

4.58 3.17 0.16

32.5 35.25 24.62 39.93

1.88 2.18 0.72

Dornoch, Firth Domoch, Firth

Dornoch, Firth

Bloomeries Forres Hoddom Domoch

~

~

~

~ ;::: ~ ~

8 .:t,.

dornmean

Sample

~ 'Si

gla~st1U1trix

O.o7

1/,09

nm

nm

nm

... §

..,_, 0.,

:;:; ~ ~ ;:!

l-s· 8

is·

Str::i ._ ~

vi

St-

... ._ §

r::i

~

TABLE 2: SEM-EDAX Analyses of slag inclusions within metal: composition in weight percent; nm= not measured; n= normalised; un Na20

c,-nR slag inclusion

= unnormal

MgO

Al203

Si0 2

S03

P20s

K20

CaO

Ti0 2

MnO

FeO

BaO

Total

N/UN

0.34

8 14 6.67 6.76 7.19

25.47

019 0 09 0 0.09

0 65 0.29

7.82 11.37 10.l l 9.77

0.14 0 36 0.35 0.28

2.67 5.03

014 0.36

5.72 5.69 5.56 5.66

33 86 29 24 31.22 31.44

0.32 0 0.2 0.17

85 6 99.99 99.98 95.19

UN

39.67 39.l 34.75 18.14 19.6 26.4 44.64 48.63 31.48

0 18 0 09 019 0.1 0.02 0.19

0.14 0.02 014 0.06 0.01 0.12

2.13 I 17 0.8 3.9 0.31 2. 77

19 63 26.74 38 68 6.68 7.28 19.8

0.08 0.02 025 0.7 0.85 0.63

0 14 0.08

0.49 20 68 13.46 7.4

50.81 45 .8 24 86 11,23 6.91 27.92

0 17 0.19 0.22

99.99 100 99.99 100 100 101. 71

l G:\11B slag inclusion 3 G'>llB slag inclusion 4 GM/Bmean

0 28 0 38 0.28 ll.31

GM!Cslaginclusion GMlC slag inclusion GI\JlC slag inclusion GMl C slag inclusion GM1 C slag inclusion GMJCmean

0.33 0.13 0 0.27 0.54 0.42

14.77 6.32

3.01 137 l 47 9.32 7.03 4.44

GM1D2 slag inclusion 1 GM! D2 slag inclusion 4 GM1D2 slag inclusion 5 GM1Dl mean

0 004 0.17 0.07

2.27 3.18 1.56 2.33

7.78 841 8.81 8.33

27.24 31 61 26.26 28.37

0.31 0.36 0.32 0.33

0.34 0.91 07 0.65

3.44 4 08 3.24 3.59

8.59 9 07 8 67 8.78

0.65 0 46 0.57 0.56

14.77 16 15 10.99 13.97

26.49 22 96 38.55 29.33

0 21 0 08 0 17 0.15

92.09 97 31 100.01 96.46

GM2B slag inclusion I Gl\12B slag inclusion 3 GM2B slag inclusion 4 GM2Bmean

0 17 0.83 0 0.33

0 56 0,67

34.77 32.91 27.81 31.83

0 86 0 79

l.64

0.96

1 48 1.53

2.17 1.67 1 04 1.62

0.91 1.02 l 4 1.11

0.67 0.61 0.74 0.67

007 0 0 0

50 03 50.04 56.97 52.35

0

1.47

0.19 0.47

814 9.98 869 8.93

0.46 0.15

9999 99.99 100 99.95

GM2D slag inclusion 1 Gl\12D slag inclusion 2 GM2Dmean

0.33 0.1 0.22

0.72 0.65 0.69

11.33 8.71 10.02

36.63 30 29 33.46

l 33 045 0.89

0.98 0 54 0.76

0.73 0.6 0.67

2.52 2.96 2.74

0.65 0.34 0.55

0.25 0.3 0.27

44.19 54 88 49.53

0.34 0.18 0.26

100 100 100.06

GMSB slag inclusion 1 GMSB slag inclusion 2 GMSB slag inclusion 3 G1ff8B mean

0.93 0.61 0.35 0.63

0.38 2 09 1.92 1.46

4 74 1605 16.86 12.55

31.92 43.48 44.88 40.09

0.46 022 0.12 0.25

207 091 03 1.09

2.36 7 08 7.28 5.57

2.49 10 16 11.73 8.13

017 0 82 0.92 0.64

0 221 2.62 1.61

54.47 1623 12.77 27.82

0 0 14 0.24 0.13

99.99 100 99.99 99.97

N

G~18C1 slag inclusion 1 G,1sc1slag inclusion 2 c,1sc1slag inclusion 3 GM8Clmean

0 0.05 0

106 1.33

18.07 19.13 23 79

0 13 0 0

3.53 29 6.73 4.39

0 0 0.25 0.08

0.41 0.15 0 34

99.99 100 02 100

:N N N

0.04

0.43 0.33 0 97 0.58

48.91 49.34 39 26

20.33

14.39 13 65 11.31 13.11

ll.41 1131 12.04

0

1 65 1.83 2 21 1.89

11.59

45.86

0.3

JOO

0.09 ll.19 0.33

0.36 0.11

0.28 (),63

0.17 0.22

IOI. 71

UN N

8.78

0.56

4.26 7.4 13.97

31.44

19.8

0.65

5.66 2.77 3.59

9. 77

8.33

34. 75 31.48 28.37

0.15

96.46

UN

0.96 0.89

1.53 0.76

1.62

1.11

52.35

0.15

99.95

2. 74

0.67 0.55

0

0.67

0.27

49.53

0.26

100.06

N N

0.25 0.04

1.09 /3. ll

5.57

8.13 4.39

0.64

1.61

27.82

IJ.59

45.86

0.13 0.3

99. 97

0.08

I 4 3 5 7

1.2 l.!9 0.91 3.62 4.38 6.61 2,25

5 07 4.26 178 0.6

ll I

N N

UN N N

N N N N

~ (I)

~ ~

(") c:,

~

~:"'!"

.., ~ -0

~

"' § .:i...

..,

'I:)

c:,

~ (I)

~

°' 00

1.22

0

UN

UN N

UN N N

~()-

~

~ (I)

~ .:i... E;l

N

g..

N

.:i (I)

c:,

3l 1.83

0.31

0.91

7.19

0.42 0.07

6.32 2.33

4.44

GM2Bmean GM2Dmean

0.33

0.47 0.69

GM8Bmean

ll.63

GM1Bmean GMICmean GMID2mean

GM8Cl mean

0.22

0

1.46 1.89

8.93

31.83

10.02

33.46

12.55

40.09

1.83

20.33

0.58

17.92 29.33

95.19

100

N N

N N N N

N

N N

~

~

Effie Photos-Jones: "Made in Scotland?": sword-making in Scotland in the Cl 5th and Cl 6th

umesolved carbide (mean Hv (100)= 160) (see Fig. 4a). The fme plates of pearlite are visible in the SEM photo of Fig. 4a, suggesting slow cooling rates. Slag inclusions (one and two phased) are obvious as is the considerable degree of pitting. This may have arisen from the twisting of the hilt to produce the grooved texture seen in the quillon. To accommodate for the ornamental structure of the hilt, malleable (low carbon iron) was used.

not heat treated but was allowed to cool slowly, in direct contract with the lower section of the blade near the tip. ( c): the lower section of blade near the tip (8c2 - see Fig. 4b) consists of ( evenly distributed) tempered martensite giving the blade toughness and springiness. The carbon content is c.0.8% C; it has been hardened by heating to red heat and quenching. Then it was tempered to above 250°C perhaps c.500°C and allowed to cool in the air. Had the blade not been tempered it would have been hard and brittle and would have snapped upon impact. Two main welding (white) bands with slag inclusions running along the length of the central one are obvious suggesting that the lower section was made of at least three strips of high carbon iron. Since the lower section of the blade differs from the upper one, it appears that a steel tip was attached to the main blade. It is impossible to tell how 'long' this tip is but it clear that only some parts of the blade were intended for piercing/cutting. GMl Analyses of slag inclusions within GMl have been obtained from: (a) tip of bent terminal of quillon (lb); (b) section of blade at tip (ld2); and (c) wedge shaped section along the blade (le). The fmgerprinting pattern of GMl with its characteristic MgO (all sections except of the quillon) combined with high amounts of MnO, Cao, K2 0 suggest a sideritic type of ore used solely or in combination with bog ore. Typologically GMl is thought to be of the Lowland type and of a later date than the River Ayr sword. Indeed the composition of the slag inclusions reflect the Lowland 'model' as shown in the analyses of the slags from Hoddom (Table 1). Metallographic investigation (see Figs. 5a-5b) ofGMl showed for:

Figure 4a. SEM-BS image ofGm8b2, showing fine plates of pearlite in a ferrite matrix. Extensive pitting is evident throughout the sample.

(a): the tip of bent terminal of quillon ( 1b ): impressive ferrite of the widmanstatten structure throughout the section with pearlite forming at the grain boundaries. The widmanstatten pattern forms when steels cool rapidly from 1000°C giving the characteristic mesh like arrangement. This is due to the precipitation of ferrite or cementite along certain crystal planes (see Fig. 5a).

Figure 4b. OM image of GM8c2, consisting of a uniform distribution of acicular martensite (Hv(100) = 506). White weld line is shown in the middle. Slag inclusions are seen running the length of the line.

(b): the wedge-shaped section along the blade (le): accicular martensite, formed within previous austenite grain boundaries (see Fig. 5b). The hardness of this section of the blade is reflected by its value (Hv(l00) = 627) and as such it would make the blade hard and brittle.

(b): the upper section of the blade near the cross (Scl ): the section is made up of three distinct bands, the middle one consisting of ferrite with a carbon content less that 0.1%C, the two on either side consisting of high carbon iron (ranging between 0.3 and 0.5%C). Within the high carbon areas, weld lines are obvious suggesting the forge welding of multiple strips of iron. The sandwich effect seen in section Sc1 is essential for the proper function of the main body of the blade as the central ferrite band provides flexibility while the two side high carbon areas provide strength. Hardness is Hv(l00) = 156 for the ferrite and Hv (100) = 274 for the pearlite. This section of the blade was

(c): the section of the blade at the tip (ld2): the section shows tempered martensite which has lost its acicular structure and appears 'curly'. The relative hard and 'softness' of this section compared with (b) is reflected in its hardness reading (Hv(100) = 441: Fig.Sb). This blade has been made differently from GMS. No weld lines are obvious, so it is assumed that GMl was made from a single bar of high carbon iron which has been heat treated (ie. cooled rapidly from a high temperature (c.750°C) to give the blade maximum hardness.

69

Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

Subsequently some sections of the blade have been tempered. Rather than adding the steel tip at the end, the GMl smith seems to have opted for one bar of high carbon iron. Again as in the case of GM8, the hilt is made from a different type of steel (low carbon) compared to the blade.

Metallographic investigation of various sections of GM2 showed the following results: (a): wedge-shaped section along the blade near the tip (2b): the section is made of a low carbon and a high carbon area. Within the low carbon area there are lines of high and low carburisation. Only one part has been thoroughly carburised. (Hv (100) for ferrite with unresolved carbides= 170; Rv (100) for pearlite = 270 (see Fig. 6a). There is varying degrees of carbonisation with a steel core (c.0.8% C) and layers oflow and high carbon iron. (b ): wedge-shaped section along the blade near the hilt (2c): tempered martensite (see Fig. 6b). ( c): blade at the tip, a traverse section (2d) showing accicular martensite (Fig. 6c ).

Figure 5a. SEM-BS image ofGMlb, ferrite of the widmanstatten structure, through the section with pearlite forming at the grain boundaries (Hv (100) = 148).

Figure 6a. OM image of section GM2b, showing areas of low and high carbon (Hv(100) = 170 and 270 respectively). To the left area of complete carburisation.

Figure 5b. OM image ofGMldl, showing tempered martensite (Hv(100) = 441). GM2 The third object, the bollock or dudgeon dagger, is perhaps the more ambiguous of the three in terms of provenance determination. Although it carries a grip of characteristic design from which it gets its name (R. W oosnam-Savage pers. comm.) the analysis of its slag inclusions suggest a very non-Highland type of ore 'cleansed' of the conventional impurities associated with manganese and phosphorus calcium, potassium and magnesium. It might therefore be indeed a case of an import blade with a Scottish grip. These objects are thought to have been worn with civilian clothing (Caldwell 1979: 27) as well as being practical fighting equipment.

Figure 6b. OM image of section GM2c, showing tempered martensite (Hv(100) = 488).

70

Effie Photos-Jones: "Made in Scotland?": sword-making in Scotland in the Cl 5th and Cl 6th

Caerdaich in Argyllshire must have been the workplace of such clan smiths. This iron making tradition in the Highlands may have been 'overlooked' by James IV either because it was inaccessible to him or indeed because it served the needs of his opponents, the Lords of the Isles. It does not mean that it did not exist. The technical characterization of the River Ayr hand-anda-half sword questions this assumption which has been in need of verification for some time. Indeed it shows that the blade could well have been made of local ores by local smiths. The high manganese and phosphorus points to a Highland source or bog ore. The River Clyde sword on the other hand points to a sideritic type of ore also widely available locally. As the lack of differentiation between Milanese and German armour centres showed, sideritic ores can be largely indistinguishable. The River Clyde dagger blade may have been an 'import' in the sense that the ore appears to be a haematite, clean of impurities from different geophysical locations and that it does not fit the established pattern of slag inclusions analysed so far. Haematites are also available in Scotland but major supplies of ore from such deposits have been derived from England, Spain or Sweden, at least for the later periods.

Figure 6c. SEM-BS image ofGM2d, showing acicular martensite (Hv (100) = 726); bar= 20 microns; x.912. Discussion

Throughout the Middle Ages, warfare tactics of the Scottish host, men between the ages of 16 and 60 eligible for military duty, tended to be guerilla-like hit-and-run, which was suited to the Scottish landscape. For that form of engagement it was essential to wear light armour and carry light equipment like axes, swords spears, and bows and arrows. Indeed in the C13th combatants were described as " ...being lightly armed and fittingly supplied with axes, spears and bows. In fact many Scots went into battle with little clothing at all". At the Battle of the Standard in 1138 they are described as naked " ...worthless Scots with half-bare buttocks" (Caldwell 1998: 13).

Bloomery iron making in Scotland was not the 'monopoly' of the Highlands. As the examination of C9th-C12th industrial waste from Hoddom suggests an equally thriving industry appears to have emerged there (Photos-Jones 1997) as well as from the early phases of Whithorn (C5thC6th AD), in Dumfriesshire. GMl, the hand-and-a-half sword from the Glasgow Museum collection, may have been the product of that 'lowland' tradition. Its find-site in Lowlands - Glasgow may also be indicative of that origin.

'Light armour' aside, the fact is that at this period swords were rare and tended to belong to the enabled classes, ie. those rich enough to afford them. It has been assumed that for the period between the C15th and C16th " ...most of the two handed blades mounted with Scottish hilts were "European' in origin, or at least not Scottish in manufacture. Sword blades were rarely made in Scotland", Solingen or Passau in Germany or other European centres like for example Irish forges being the accepted place of origin (Willis 1996: 12).

While the slag inclusion analysis of either of the two handand-a-half swords suggests that they could well have been made locally, their metallography points to great expertise and confidence from the point of the smith. The selection of the appropriate materials and a good understanding of heat treatment of steel is clearly evident and it is selectively applied to various parts of the blade to achieve the desired result. How a cutting edge is achieved may reflect clan smithy practice. This research has highlighted the fact that the swords far from being merely ceremonial were very much functional and would have served their masters well, doing great justice to the craft of the smiths which produced them. It is therefore possible that at least for the (early) post-medieval period (C13th-C16th) the main iron manufacturing centres may have been shifted towards the Highlands 'forcing' the Lowlanders - and James IV must be included in them - to rely for good quality iron blades on sources from abroad; the 'Highland sources' with their restrictive clan based system of supply and demand may have been largely out of his reach.

In the west of Scotland, the Lords of the Isles ruled the western isles until James IV stripped them of their lands and title in 1493. From the effigies on their grave slabs the Lords dressed in aketons, the quilted coat, basinets, the conical hehnets and carried cross hilted broadswords. The implication is that the Lords of the Isles were themselves looking towards the Continent and Germany for the provision of their functional and ceremonial weaponry. This assumption does not take into account oral tradition of smiths, 'sword makers to the Lord of the Isles' or clans of smiths hereditary armourers to other clans. It is most probable that the Lords of the Isles must have resorted to their own smiths, the expertise of which would have been well known among Highland clans. Archaeological evidence corroborates this suggestion. Large scale postmedieval bloomery establishments like the one at Allt na

Conclusion

It can be said that both GMl and GM8 could well have been produced from local ores. However, sideritic ores or a 71

Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

combination of sideritic ores and bog iron ores give a rather similar chemical pattern making the process of deciding conclusively on a Scottish provenance difficult. GM8 blade slag inclusions match well with those seen in slags derived from Scottish phosphorus and manganese rich bog iron ores while those of GMl match with sideritic ores or a combination of sideritic and or bog iron ore. On the other hand, the clean composition of the bollock dagger may suggest an alternative - haematite - type of ore and therefore an import. The above research seems to confirm the typological assumption of GMl being a 'Lowland' sword. The fact that GM8 may have been produced in the Highlands/Lowlands points to this type of sword perhaps having been used throughout Scotland.

Caldwell D.R. 1979 The Scottish Armoury. (Edinburgh). Caldwell D.R. 1998 Scotland's wars and warriors, winning against the odds. (The Stationery Office, Edinburgh). Grant I.F. & Cheape H. 1987 Periods in Highland history. (London). Hall AJ. & Photos-Jones E.1998 The bloomery mounds of the Scottish Highlands: Part II - a review of iron mineralisation in relation. Journal of the Historical Metallurgy Society 32/2: 54-66. Oakeshott E. 1960 The archaeology of weapons. (Lutterworth Press, London). Oakeshott E. 1990 Bastard swords. The Seventh Park Lane Arms Fair [Catalogue], (London): 12-17. Photos-Jones E. 1997 Report on the analytical examination of the iron-related industrial waste from Hoddom, Dumfries and Galloway. SASAA Internal Report 8.1. Photos-Jones E. 1999 The Calderbank Project: a research design. SASAA Internal Report 37. Photos-Jones E. & Atkinson J.A 1998 Iron in medieval Perth: a case of town and country. Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland 128 (1998): 887-904. Photos-Jones E., Atkinson J.A, Hall Al & Banks I. 1998 The Bloomery Mounds of the Scottish Highlands. Part I: The archaeological background. Journal of the Historical Metallurgy Society 32/1: 15-32. RCAHMS 1982 Inventory of Argyll: Volume 4 - Iona. (Edinburgh). Scott J.G. 1963 A hand-and-a half sword from the River Clyde. Scottish Art Review 9/1: 31-32. Scott J.G. 1981 Three medieval swords from Scotland. In D.R. Caldwell (ed.) Scottish weapons and fortifications. (John Donald Publishers, Edinburgh): 10-20. Wallace J. 1970 Scottish swords and dirks: an illustrated reference guide to Scottish edge weapons. (Arms and Armour Press). Whitelaw C.E. 1980 Scottish arms makers: a biographical dictionary of makers of firearms, edged weapons and armour working in Scotland from the 15th century to 1870. (Arms and Armour Press). Williams AR. 1991 Slags inclusions in armour. Journal of the Historical Metallurgy Society 24/2: 69-80. Willis T. 1995 The fourteenth century Scottish sword. Journal of the Arms and Armour Society 25 (March): 35-48. Willis T. 1996 Scottish 'twa handit Swerdis'. The Thirteen Park Lane Arms Fair [Catalogue]: 12-25.

Acknowledgements

This project has been made possible through the generous funding of the Glasgow Museums. The author is grateful to Dr D. Mead, Senior Curator, Glasgow Museums for his support and permission to sample the objects; also to Kyle and Garrick District Museums for permission to sample the Ayr sword. The author wishes to express her most sincere thanks to Dr R. W oosnam-Savage for reading the report. His insightful comments have been instrumental throughout this research project. Thanks are also due to Ms M. Richmond (GUARD) for photography, Mrs L. Farell (GUAD), F. Nesbit (Glasgow Museums), J. Geleece (GUAD) and Mr D. Sneddon and Ms. S. Philipps (SASAA) for expert technical and IT support.

References

Atkinson J.A & Photos-Jones E. 1997 Scottish Bloomeries Project, Phase 2: The excavations. Unpublished GUARD/SASAA interim report. Atkinson J.A & Photos-Jones E. 1999a Scottish Bloomeries Project: Interim report 1996. Unpublished GUARD/SASAA interim report. Atkinson J.A & Photos-Jones E. 1999b 'Brave at heart': clanship and the work of the Highland smith. In S.M. Young, AM. Pollard, P. Budd & R.A Ixer (edd.) Metals in antiquity. (BAR Int. Ser. 792, Archaeopress, Oxford): 271-279. Beard C.R. 1941 A 'Dudgeon' dagger. The Connoisseur CVII (May): 210-211. Bezdek R.H. 2000 German swords and sword makers, edged weapon makers from the 14th to the 20th centuries. (Boulder). Blair C. 1962 European and American arms, c.1100-1850. (Batsford, London). Blair C. 1981 The word Claymore. In D.R. Caldwell (ed.) Scottish weapons and fortifications. (John Donald Publishers, Edinburgh): 378-387. Blair C. 1994 Claymore and other Gaelic sword terms. Dispatch - Journal of the Scottish Military Historical Society 137: 20-21. Blair C. & Wallace J. 1963 Scots - or still English ? Scottish Art Review 9/1: 11-14 & 33-37.

72

Before the battle: undeployed battlefield weaponry from the Spanish Armada, 1588 Colin Martin documentary sources we would have no knowledge of Edward I's massive incursions into Scotland between 1291 and 1307, or of Cumberland's march to Culloden in 1746.

Abstract Excavations on post-medieval shipwrecks have yielded extensive evidence of contemporary weaponry. Much is specific to naval warfare, but a substantial number of items have been recovered which are applicable to combat ashore or afloat, or come from consignments of military equipment lost in transit. Material from dated shipwrecks is usually of guaranteed chronological precision, and normally carries unequivocal attributes of association and context.

When an army moves to its intended theatre of operations by sea, however, elements of it may be lost in transit by shipwreck, and in the right circumstances a sampling of its weaponry and equipment may become preserved in the archaeological record. An example is provided by the Spanish Armada of 1588 which, after failing to land an invasion force on the south-east coast of England, was forced to return home around the north of the British Isles (Martin & Parker 1999). Hit by unusually severe autunm gales, many of its vessels were lost on the Atlantic coasts of Scotland and Ireland. During the past three decades several of their wrecks have been discovered and subjected to archaeological investigation. This evidence, together with extensive and hitherto little studied associated documentation which survives in Spain, has provided unprecedented opportunities for studying the weaponry and equipment of an early modem army. One of these wrecks, that of La Trinidad Valencera of the Armada's Levant squadron, provides the basis of this paper.

The 1588 Spanish Armada was essentially an invasion fleet afloat, and a major collection of late Cl 6th weaponry has been recovered from the wreck of La Trinidad Valencera off Donegal. This includes part of the Armada's siege-train, close-combat incendiary devices, and weapons, equipment, and clothing belonging to the troops on board. Prepared materials for siegeworks and field defences were also found. These items are given added significance by the rich resource of associated documents which survive in Spain.

Introduction

The precision of time and place within which the focused episodes of violence we call battles take place blurs the fact that they are single (albeit dramatic and sometimes decisive) components in much more complex processes of human conflict. Culture, society, economy, technology and politics create the circumstances within which antagonists seek to attack one another or to defend themselves against external threat. Ahnost always these circumstances involve extensive and accelerating phases of preparation gathering information; diplomacy; establishing aims; defming strategy; motivating or coercing the intended participants; training; obtaining and concentrating resources; mobilisation; and the creation and manning of defensive systems. If the proposed action is offensive, armies and their supp011ing infrastructures must be assembled and moved to wherever their presence will achieve the desired outcome, whether by the application of latent force, the successful prosecution of a siege, or by the destruction of the enemy in battle.

La Trinidad Valencera

At 1100 tons this ship was the fourth-largest vessel in the fleet. By origin she was a Venetian merchantman, built as a specialist bulk-carrier to transport grain from Sicily to Venice. In 1587, while in a Sicilian port, she was requisitioned by Spanish officials to transport troops and war materials to Lisbon, where they were required for the projected Armada (Martin 1979: 14-15). Once there she was embargoed for the campaign as an armed invasion transport. A large consignment of weaponry, equipment, and provisions was loaded into her capacious hold, including three battery cannons of the royal siege train (Martin 1988). As well as a 79-strong crew she carried 281 soldiers from the tercio (regiment) of Naples including its colonel, Don Alonso de Luzon (Fernandez Duro 1885: 349, 66-70). The ship played a notable part in the Channel battles and in the climactic actions off Calais and the Flemish banks, during which she received the damage which caused her to lag behind the main body of the fleet as it circunmavigated the British Isles. In a sinking condition she headed for Ireland, and grounded on a reef in Kinnagoe Bay off the north Donegal coast. Most of those on board escaped in the ship's boats, and few days later the stranded Valencera broke apart and sank (Martin 1979: 1516).

In aggressive actions, the assembly and movement of a military force towards its objective is much less likely to leave recognisable archaeological evidence than at the location of the siege or battle which resulted. Only rarely do armies leave clear traces of their mustering or passage through the landscape. An exception is the Roman army, whose practice of constructing temponuy ditched enclosures while operating in hostile territory has left enduring footprints of its movements, especially in northern Britain. Even so, the paucity of dating evidence recovered from these short-term bivouacs has made attempts to associate particular groups of camps with historically attested campaigns difficult and ahnost invariably speculative. Still less can we recognise evidence of later campaigns in the same area. Were it not for

The wreck was discovered in 1971 and partially excavated over the following 14 years (Martin 1979: 17-35; 1983: 128-36). Little articulated hull structure had survived, although during the process of structural collapse scour pits had formed in the adjacent sandy seabed. These

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attracted deposits of loose organic material from the disintegrating hull, which were securely sealed when the seabed's natural stability reasserted itself. The anaerobic environment thus created provided good conditions for the preservation of wood, leather, textile and bone. More durable items - bronze guns, iron anchors, and massive iron-bound spoked wooden wheels from the artillery train lay scattered and partially exposed across the sea floor. In consequence the processes of wreck formation encapsulated a random but reasonably representative sample of the ship's contents on and within the sea bed, complementing a rich documentary resource which includes detailed inventories of military and other equipment loaded aboard the Valencera at Lisbon during the fleet's preparations in 1587 and early 1588. From this evidence many aspects of the Spanish invasion force's main battlefield weaponry can be reconstructed.

drawing are remarkably accurate, although there are minor errors in the treatment of the decoration and inscriptions. On the basis of their recorded marks all three guns fall within one per cent of their mean weight, and were clearly part of a matched set. In all practical respects the dimensions of the pieces are identical, and they are described in the singular. Slight variations, however, are evident in some of the decorative detail. The specifications of the pieces are: Bore Shot diameter (assuming 5% windage) Shot weight (approximately) Length overall Muzzle to breech ring Calibre/length ratio Shot/gun weight ratio

18.4 cm 17.5 cm 40 libras 2.92m 2.68m 1:14.5 1:121

Caiiones de batir

The first reinforce carries a crowned shield in relief, encircled with the collar and insignia of the Order of the Golden Fleece (of which the king was Grand Master). The escutcheon shows the arms of Spain impaling those of England, reflecting Philip II's marriage to Mary Tudor. Below it the words PHILLIPVS REX are contained within a rectangular box flanked by ansae. The lifting and breech dolphins are ornate, and acanthus borders surround either end of the chase. There is further foliar decoration at the muzzle. Additional detail has been chased with a point and a hollow-headed punch after casting. The vent pan is set in an oblong block, with lugs to accommodate a hinged cover. During excavation two vent covers were found, each close to its parent gun (Martin 1988: 60, Fig. 2). The triple-banded base ring carries the following inscriptions:

In February 1588 the Venetian ambassador at Madrid informed his government that " ...on board [the Armada] they have embarked twelve heavy siege guns ... with a double supply of gun carriages and wheels for the field batteries, and 600 mules ..." (Brown 1894: 336, No. 625). Three of these were consigned to the Trinidad Valencera, and described in an undated inventory (Martin 1988: 58 and n.11 ). The first entry reads: One cast-bronze canon de batir from the Flemish foundry which bears on top of the first reinforce a shield with the royal arms picked out in paint and an inscription which reads 'Felipus Rex' [sic] and behind the vent three inscriptions of which one reads 'Juanze mamique Alara ficut curavit' [sic] and another '1556'. It weighs fifty one quintales and eighty six libras. It fires a ball of cast iron weighing 40 libras.

IONES . MANRICVS . A . LARA . FIERI . CVRA VIT OPVS.REMIGY.DE.HALVT ANNO 1556

The other two canones, according to the inventory, were similar in all respects to the first, except that their weight marks were 5316 and 5260. All three pieces, with weight marks which correspond with those of the inventory, have been recovered from the wreck. These weights were established after casting by official mensurators to the nearest Castilian libra of 460 grams, and marked on the gun barrels. The accuracy with which this operation was conducted was confirmed by a controlled modem weighing of the 5316 piece, which yielded a unit value of 463 ± 3 grams (Martin 1988: n.19). Each weight mark is therefore almost certainly unique to an individual weapon. By a remarkable coincidence the gun marked 5186 can be identified in a scale drawing of three types of caifones de batir (two of them in service, and one a projected design) submitted in 1587 to Philip II as part of a technical memorandum by his Captain General of Artillery, Juan de Acuna Vela (Martin 1988: n.18). In Fig. 1 the C16th drawing has been scaled for comparison with a modem record of the same gun. The proportions of the original

Don Juan Mamique de Lara, whose name appears on the Valencera guns as the man under whose auspices they were cast, was Captain-General of Artillery from 1551 to 1574 (Vigon 1947 I: 144; III: 286). The main ordnance base in the Low Countries was at Malines, where Charles I established an arsenal in 1551. Malines had long been recognised for its bell-founding, and in the 1480s Hans Poppenruyter, the most famous of the city's masterfounders, began producing bronze artillery there. During the first two decades of the Cl 6th Poppenruyter cast many guns for Henry VIII of England, but this work stopped in 1526 because of difficulties over payment. However Charles V chose Malines as his personal gunfoundry in 1520, with Poppenruyter assuming the title of fondeur royale. Six years later Poppenruyter married Hedwige van den Niewenhuisen, and when he died in 1534 leaving no heir his widow continued to manage the foundry until, in 1536, she married another gunfounder, Remigy de Halut, whose appointment as fondeur royale in succession to Poppenruyter was shortly afterwards confirmed.

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Colin Martin: Before the battle: undeployed battlefield weaponry from the Spanish Armada, 1588

~1 l~ Figure 1. Bronze canon de batir by Remigy de Halut ofMalines, cast for Philip II in 1556. The gun is identified by its weight mark of 5186 Castilian libras. (Top) a drawing of this weapon made in 1587 and now in the Archivo General de Simancas, bottom the same piece, recovered from the Armada wreck La Trinidad Valencera in 1987. Hedwige died in 1562, Remigy in 1568, by which time the foundry had fallen into decline occasioned both by the Dutch Revolt (Malines was sacked in 1566, 1572, and 1580) and by a shift in the strategic deployment of Philip II's heavy artillery following the Treaty of CateauCambresis in 1559 (Van Doorslaer 1910).

Field carriages

Each of the Valencera's three royal canones de batir was provided with two dismantled sets of field carriages for service ashore (Martin 1988: n.15). It appears that these had been manufactured specially for the campaign. On 17 October 1587 Juan de Acuiia Vela informed Philip II that his men were cutting timber to make wheels and carriages for eight of the canones de batir the fleet was to carry, and a week later he was reporting the necessity of making wheels of unseasoned wood because of the urgency with which they were needed (Martin 1988: n.23). We may therefore presume that the carriage components issued to La Trinidad Valencera early in 1588 were manufactured at this time.

The inventories of other Armada ships, and Acuna Vela's scale drawings, show that two distinct types of canones de batir were employed in the royal siege train. One group came from the Augsburg foundry of Gregorio Lefer. These guns were cast prior to 1555 and bore the arms of Charles V. Gregorio's canones were 17.75 calibres long, and an example shown in the 1587 drawing weighed 5230 libras. An undated inventory (probably of 1587) of guns at Lisbon Castle lists five Gregorio canones with an average weight of5500 libras (Martin 1988: n.21).

Ten large spoked wooden wheels and five axletrees have been located on the wreck (Fig. 2). The wheels are of two types. One has 12 spokes and a diameter of 1.5m, while the other is of IO-spoke construction and spans 1.3m. It seems likely that the 12-spoke wheels, of which five have been identified, are carriage wheels, while the smaller 10-spoke ones belong to limbers (Fig. 3).

The same inventory also notes five canones ofRemigy, the founder responsible for the Trinidad Valencera's three guns. All of these appear to have been cast early in the reign of Philip IL These pieces averaged 5200 libras (very close to the 5254 average of the Valencera group), and as both the documents and recovered examples show were somewhat shorter than Gregorio's canones, with a length of around 15 calibres.

On both wheel types the spokes are of oak. All have a roughly oval section which squares off towards the extremities. The spokes of the carriage wheels have a forward curve on their inner faces, which reaches the vertical as they meet the felloes. The outer spoke faces are straight from the nave to a point just short of the felloes, where they curve slightly outwards. These spokes are set forward at a mean angle of about 7°. The limber wheel spokes curve forward uniformly on both faces, squaring as they reach the felloes. Their forward set is around 8°.

These guns clearly derive from the siege train established at Malines near Antwerp by Charles V and Philip II prior to the settlement of Cateau-Cambresis in 1559. Most were subsequently shipped to garrisons in Spain and Italy, where they were still located in 1586 when the Marquis of Santa Cruz noted their availability for the projected invasion of England (Fernandez Duro 1884: 288-9).

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Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

Figure 2. A IO-spoked limber wheel in situ during excavations on the wreck of La Trinidad Valencera.

Figure 3. Reconstructed undercarriage assemblies from components recovered from La Trinidad Valencera: top, 12spoked canon wheels and axle; bottom, 10-spoked limber wheels with their longer axle.

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Colin Martin: Before the battle: undeployed battlefield weaponry from the Spanish Armada, 1588

The naves are turned out of elm heartwood. Those for the carriage wheels are 62cms in diameter and 55cms wide, and reinforced with iron bands at the hub ends and either side of the spokes. A tapered hole accommodates the axle bearing, which is lined with an iron sleeve. Rectangular mortices house the tenoned spoke ends. The naves of the limber wheels are of a rather different design. They are, in proportion to the diameter of the wheel, considerably less thick and wide than the carriage wheel naves (40 x 40cms ), and less bulbous in appearance.

type of axle is for the main carriage assemblies is suggested by the bed length, which closely matches the span between the trunnion faces of the canon es de batir. A wrought iron bar is set into the underside of the axle along its full length and secured to the axle ends by cup-like fittings over the hubs. Integral upper and lower clout plates extend from the hub caps to reinforce the axle stubs and reduce friction on the rotating nave. The bed and arms of the type B axle are rather longer, and seem to be intended for the smaller diameter 10-spoked wheels of the postulated limber assemblies. The greater length of this axle was doubtless conditioned by the splay of the trail, and the need to accommodate the turning radius of an articulated limber. Like the type A axle, the type B example appears to have been fitted with a countersunk iron bar on its under side and to have had similar hub caps and clout plates.

All the felloes are of ash, and each is mortised to receive two spokes. Thus a carriage wheel has six felloes, a limber one five. The butt-ends of the felloes are drilled with holes set tangentially to the wheel arc, and joined to their neighbours with dowels. An unused felloe blank presumably one of the spares noted in the Spanish inventory - was recovered during excavation. No mortises or dowel holes have been cut in it and, in comparison with the felloes on the assembled wheels, which are sound and well made, the spare is shoddily derived from a blank of ash which presents its waney edge at two comers.

The contemporary Spanish artilleryman Luis Collado (1592: f.21) describes a guncarriage axle with characteristics which appear very similar to those recorded on La Trinidad Valencera. Set into its under surface, he writes, is an anima, which he describes as " ...a true iron bar ... set into the wood of the axle, as wide as the same is long". The function of the anima (which he sometimes calls a contraexe, or counter-axle) was, he explains, to prevent overheating, wear, and shearing of the axle stubs. The end fittings, which he illustrates (Fig. 4), were called mangas: these are iron hub-caps which reinforce the axle ends and provide a solid housing for the linch pins. Iron plates extend from the mangas at top and bottom to serve as bearing surfaces for the wheel. These components are clearly the animas and manguetas of the inventoried Trinidad Valencera axles, visible in the surviving examples.

The wheels were clamped around their rims with short iron strakes, each starting at the centre of a felloe and ending at the centre of its neighbour in order to span the joint. The strakes were secured to the felloes with iron clamps. The angle at which the spokes are set gives the wheels a noticeable 'dish', or concave appearance. This concavity faces outwards: that is, the apex of the shallow cone thus formed sits on the inside of the axle arm. Such an arrangement, which had been the general practice in Europe since c.1500, imparts more even stresses on the wheel structure and improves its stability in rotation (Singer et al 1956: 552). No hollow (downwards inclination) or lead (forward toein) - the stabilising offsets which were to become common in later periods - is apparent in the set of either axle. Thus the wheel discs ran parallel to one another.

These arrangements would greatly have increased the axles' strength, particularly against shearing stresses at the arm/bed interfaces. It is not clear when the counter-axle was introduced, though it seems that the Trinidad Valencera fmds are the earliest examples so far recorded. They may be seen as a response to what had been, from at least the mid-c15th, a major problem in the design of heavy vehicle undercarriages, which were prone to failure at the weak point between the square-sectioned axle bed and the rounded axle arms. Perhaps this was why new carriages were built for the Valencera's caiiones de batir in 1587, for by this time the original mountings would have been more than 40 years old and, in addition to being worn out, were probably regarded as obsolete too.

One of the Trinidad Valencera's lading documents records 13 wooden axles for caiiones, fitted with animas and manguetas (Martin 1988: n.16). Of the five axletrees recorded on the wreck three were too severely damaged to allow accurate measurement. One, however, was almost completely free of abrasion and concretion, and appeared from its condition to be an unused spare. Another, although somewhat abraded and partly obscured by concretion, retained enough of its original surface for its main dimensions to be obtained. The two axles differ in their lengths and proportions, and it is likely that the first (type A) is for carriages, and the second (type B) for limbers.

Related artillery equipment

The type A example is smoothly and accurately fashioned from ash, and has a bed 80cms long and 22cms square in section, save for a 6.5 chamfer at its two lower edges. Symmetrically-placed arms of circular section extend 60cms on either side, tapering from a diameter of 18cms at the slightly stepped shoulder to 13cms at the tip. That this

As well as the caiiones and their mountings the artillery train included a multiplicity of related equipment, tools, and spares. The following items extracted from the Valencera's main inventory (which covers a wide range of munitions, stores, provisions, and domestic equipment)

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Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

Figure 4. Hub cap with bearing plates for an artillery axle (after Collado, 1592).

of the windlass mechanism of the gun-hoist (cabrita) has been recognised, while a bundle of nettle-fibre textile with associated leather, cord, and wooden fittings appears to be part of one of the campaign tents (these were for keeping ammunition dry, not the men) (Flanagan 1988: 101-2). A partly intact wooden keg has been identified as a powder barrel by the carbon-based nature of its residual contents. It has no metal components, a deliberate precaution to minimise the risk of sparks (Flanagan 1988: 111). Some of the oak crowbars have been found, together with fir saplings trimmed to create spikes at the branch junctions for use in defensive entanglements (Fig. 5).

include entries which seem to relate directly to field artillery (Martin 1988: 59-61 and n.16). They are set out in summary form below. Items of particular significance, or of doubtful meaning, are supported by the original Spanish terms. 80 oak planks for platforms 20 oak beams for the same 8 hemp ropes, heavy and light, weighing 2004 libras I tripod gun-hoist (cabrita) with 2 bronze sheaves and 2 windlasses I tackle-block with 2 bronze sheaves 2 iron grapnels 2 iron crowbars for shifting the guns I 00 pine boards 2 campaign tents with skirtings and iron-tipped poles 50 crowbars of green oak 80 wooden spokes (rayos) for wheels 4 naves (macas) for canon wheels, iron shod 13 canon axles with counter-springs (animas) and end bearings (manguetas) 20 felloes (pinetas) for wheels 400 rounds of 40-libra cast-iron shot 3 gun-tackles to secure the artillery, weighing 144 /ibras 3 iron-shod wooden rollers for shifting the guns 6 large hammers for spoking the wheels 2 iron levers for elevating and adjusting the guns I wheel-jack (escaleta) with its crank-pin (perno) I 00 wooden poles for the tents 20 iron shot-moulds 4 gun-tackles for the tents, weighing 250 libras net I 000 medium nails for platforms 6 wooden guncarriages furnished with iron, with their campaign fittings 12 iron-shod spoked wheels, with campaign fittings 6 wooden limbers (arm ones) with their draught poles (timones) 12 iron-shod spoked wheels for the limbers 6 wooden bars (lonjas) fitted with iron for field service with the limbers 24 iron !inch-pins (sotrocos) and 12 iron collars (arandelas) for the axle stubs 24 wooden wedges for elevating the guns I 75 quintales of powder in 240 wooden barrels

Incendiary weapons In his general fleet instructions issued just before the Armada sailed its commander, the Duke of Medina Sidonia, wisely cautioned that the incendiary weapons carried by most of the ships " ...should be entrusted only to the most experienced men ... if this is not confided beforehand to men who understand the management of it, great damage may result" (Fernandez Duro 1885: 31-2). Documentary sources concerning the equipping of the Armada mention two types of such weapons, alcancias and bombas. These may be identified, respectively, as gunpowder-based ceramic firepots and wooden tubes which threw out a succession of offensive pyrotechnics. Examples of each device have been recovered from the wreck of La Trinidad Valencera.

On 14 May 1588 the ship received an allocation of 25 alcancias and 15 bombas, supplied in five spark-resistant barrels. Another entry of stores issued to the Valencera records 60 pinetas de fuego artificiales, which were prepared for use by the ship's Venetian master-gunner, Polo (Martin 1994: 207). These appear to have been

As well as the guncarriage components, several of these items have been identified with finds from the wreck. Part 78

Colin Martin: Before the battle: undeployed battlefield weaponry from the Spanish Armada, 1588

Figure 5. A trimmed fir sapling (left) from La Trinidad Valencera, with a detail from a German woodcut (right) of c. 1530 showing the construction of defensive entanglements.

alcancias in an Italian guise (see below), though whether they were additional to, or inclusive of, the 25 received on 14 May is not clear.

devices pignatti di fuego arteficiato, and there seems little doubt that the Trinidad Valencera finds are the alcancias of the ship's lading documents (Fig. 6). Lucar's description of 1588 has a diagram which shows such a firepot, and his observations on its preparation and use are as follows:

Among the pottery forms found during the excavation of the wreck is a red earthenware bottle with a distinctively pinched waist and clear external glaze. An unbroken example has a capacity, inclusive of the neck, of 0.39 litres, and when found contained a residue of black sludge which, on analysis, proved to be mainly carbon with traces of sulphur (Martin 1994: 207-8). These observations suggested that the vessel was related to ordnance of some kind, and a search was made of contemporary literature for parallels and further information. Similar objects are illustrated by Cataneo (1571: 35), Lucar (1588: 74-5), Gentilini (1598: 74), and Capo Bianco (1602: 25 and 35), and identified as firepots. The Italian sources call such

Make great and small earthen pottes which must be but half baked, and like unto the picture in the margent ... Fill every of those pottes halfe full with grosse gunpowder pressed downe harde, and with one of the five severall mixtures next following in this Chapter, fill up the other half of those pottes: This done, cover the mouth of every potte with a peece of canvasse bound hard about the mouth of the potte, and well imbrued in melted brimstone. Also tie round about the middle of every potte a

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Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

packthreed, and then hang upon the same packthreed round about the potte so many Gunmatches of a finger length as you wil, & when you will throe any of these pottes among your enemies, light the same gun-matches that they may so soone as the potte is broken with his fal uppon the ground, fire the mixture of the potte ... this is to be noted, that the small pottes do serve to be throne out of one shippe into an other in fight uppon the sea, and that the great pottes are to be used in service uppon the lande for the defence of townes, fortes, walles, and gates, and to burn such things as the enemies shall throe into ditches for to fill up the same ditches, and also to destroy enemies in their trenches and campes.

Bormla on 27 July, when a firepot thrown by the defenders ignited an enemy powder flask. The ensuing casualties, and the panic engendered, turned the attack into a rout (1568: 83). Firepots also proved effective in the desperate business of close-fighting in the dark mazes of tunnels and counter-mines (1568: 84). During excavation in 1978 of one of the sealed organic deposits on the Trinidad Valencera wreck site a wooden tube-like object 75cms long and 9cms in girth was uncovered. The tube was reinforced with cord bindings set into four wide recesses along its length. At one end there is a hole 4.5cms in diameter, extending towards the base in the manner of a gun's bore, and at the other a shallow hole 3cms in diameter within which a shaft might be mounted. In view of the object's composite nature and fragile condition it was extracted, boxed, and securely packed underwater before recovery and transportation to the conservation laboratories of the Ulster Museum, Belfast. There the bindings were removed and conserved separately while the tube, which appears to be of olive wood, was treated with its contents in situ.

Lucar's five 'recipes' for firepot fillings are based on mixtures of gunpowder, spirits, and resin, with various additives including varnish, oil, and iron pyrites. First-hand information about the use of firepots and other incendiary devices in contemporary combat situations is provided by Balbi di Correggio's graphic account (1568) of the defence of Malta against the Turks in 1565, in which he had served as a private soldier. The inherent danger of such weapons to friend as well as to foe is illustrated by an incident on 15 July, when an exhausted soldier accidentally dropped a lighted match into a box of firepots with disastrous consequences to himself and his comrades (1568: 72). Their effectiveness against an enemy assault, however, was demonstrated during a Turkish attack on

The object can be identified as one of the 15 fire-trunks, or bombas, supplied to the ship along with 25 alcancias in May 1588. These weapons, like the firepots, are well described and illustrated in the contemporary literature (Cataneo 1571: 34; Lucar 1588: 85-89; Gentilini 1598: 74; and Capo Bianco 1602: 47). Capo Bianco's illustration closely matches the Trinidad Valencera example, and the two are reproduced to a matching scale in Fig. 7.

cm Figure 6. A ceramic firepot as depicted by Cyprian Lucar (1588) (left) compared with an earthenware firepot (alcancia) from La Trinidad Velncera.

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Colin Martin: Before the battle: undeployed battlefield weaponry from the Spanish Armada, 1588

0

20 cm

Figure 7. The bomba carcass from La Trinidad Valencera (top) with (centre) a reconstruction ofit equipped with cord bindings and muzzle spikes and (bottom) a similar weapon illustrated by Capo Bianco (1602). The reconstructed weapon is mounted on a pole and includes two slightly splayed iron spikes extending beyond the mouth. These protrusions would have allowed the bomba to be embedded in its target, or used as a short pike once its charge was expended. The cord reinforcements on the Trinidad Valencera example, though fragmentary, can be reconstructed with some confidence. They are arranged in groups of three triple loops, forming straps through which the free ends were laced together and drawn tight. Three such straps span each of the reinforcement recesses.

reinforcement with 3ins wide (7.5cms) iron bands or cord bindings. From these comparisons it appears that the bomba from La Trinidad Valencera very closely follows the specifications ofLucar's smaller trunk, except that it is some 25% longer. Conservation imperatives have precluded the dismantling of the bomba 's contents, which are apparently intact, but once again Lucar provides a full description. The operation of such weapons depended upon the combination of slowburning and 'furious' charges, set in alternating sequence: the former spewed out a tongue of fire in the manner of a flame-thrower before igniting the latter, which was semiexplosive in character and laced with powdered glass or lead filings to add high-velocity scatter wounds (particularly to the eyes) to the effects of blast. Lucar's recipes for the charges appropriate to smaller trunks are as follows:

Lucar's description of the weapon fully explains the methods of preparation and use. The trunk was turned out of olive or willow, woods he regards as suitably 'soft and fast' for the purpose. Two sizes were in general service. The smaller was 2ft (60cms) long and 'in compass the small of a mans legge' which, on the basis of the present writer's anatomy, approximates to a diameter of 9cms. The bore was the width of a hen's egg (about 4.5cms) and 17ins (43cms) in extent. A hole 3ins deep was provided at the butt end to accommodate a 5-foot (1.52m) stave. The bigger version was 3ft (99cms) long, with a barrel length and bore of 30 and 2ins (76 and 5cms) respectively. Both types were recessed at intervals of 6ins (15cms) to a depth "so much as the backe of a knife is thicke" for

Slow-burning mixture Gross gunpowder

Saltpetre Sulphur 'Furious' quick-burning mixture Gross gunpowder

81

12 parts 6 parts 4 parts

12 parts

Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

Saltpetre (bruised like peppercorns) 3 paits Grains of salt (quantity unspecified) Ox gall (quantity unspecified) Aqua vitae sufficient to moisten

recovered from Annada wrecks into two distinct groups one of 13mm diameter (c.14 grams) for arquebuses, and one of 19mm (c.40 grams) for muskets - shows that within the idiosyncrasies of personal preference there were underlying assumptions of conformity.

The trunk was loaded with three inches of 'furious' mix followed by one inch of 'slow', the sequence being repeated until the tube was full. Its end was covered with tarred cloth (the Trinidad Valencera weapon was provided with an annular groove close to the muzzle for this purpose) and fitted with a fuse. These arrangements would provide Lucar's weapon with four discharge cycles, and it seems likely that the 25% longer but otherwise similar Annada version was a five cycle piece.

The Valencera arquebus demonstrates the droop-curved type of petronel stock, which absorbed recoil through the centre of the firer's rib cage rather than on the fleshy padding of his shoulder. With the introduction of the m~ch heavier musket in the second half of the C 16th absorpt10n of recoil via the chest became impossible and the straight stock, well illustrated by the Valencera example, came into widespread use. The Elizabethan soldier Sir Roger Williams (1590: 40; 46) knew this weapon well, and much admired it: " ...for the recoiling, there is no hurt, if they be straight stocked after the Spanish manner; were they stocked in the French manner, to be discharged on the breast, few or none could abide their recoiling, but being discharged after the Spanish manner there is neither danger nor hurt". Spanish musket stocks, as this example shows, were not really straight, since the butt had to drop slightly to allow the firer's eye to line up comfortably along the barrel. In this design may be seen the origin of modem gunstock forms.

Various other recipes are provided by Lucar, and it is evident that the incendiarist's craft was subject to personal preferences and experiment by those who plied it. No doubt, in skilled hands, considerable variation was possible, particularly with respect to the nature and timing of the discharges. Lucar asserts that "with such trunkes ... walles may be assaulted, breaches may be defended, and shippes may be boorded. Also with such trunkes the forefront of an armie may be preserved from the force of horsemen, campes, gates, fortes, and townes may with fire issuing out of these trunkes be burned".

Musketeers and arquebusiers carried their powder in hopper-shaped flasks which were inverted to supply a measured charge by means of a spring-loaded metering device. Several such flasks have been recovered from the Trinidad Valencera wreck, together with examples of the smaller flasks used to prime the pieces (Fig. 9).

Without practical experiment no quantification of the effect or duration of a discharge cycle is possible, but it is clear that such weapons could be highly effective. Balbi di Correggio (1568: 51) describes an incident during the siege of Malta in which one of the Christian defenders beat off a Turkish attack on the citadel of St. Michael virtually single-handed with a tromba de fuego. But, like other incendiary devices, bombas were likely to have been unpredictable in use, and prone to mis-fires or worse. 'Cook-offs' - the premature multiple ignition of all the charges due to the build-up of heat and pressure within the tube - were probably common. Just such an accident befell an attempt to replicate the action of such a weapon during the production of a television documentary in 1988 (Martin 1994: 215-6). Happily, because of the much reduced charges which safety considerations had dictated, no injuries resulted.

Pikemen constituted the third infantry group in an early modem army. A bundle containing of the lower ends often pikestaves was found on the Trinidad Valencera, the longest surviving length being 3m. The butt ends terminated in simple iron ferrules. Elsewhere on the site two head-ends of pikes were found, still retaining within concretion their points and side reinforcements. From these remains the complete weapon can be reconstructed as a 5.5m shaft of ash, 3.5cms thick from its heel to about onethird along its length, after which it tapers to a point diameter of 2.4cms. The end is sheathed with a small pointed iron shoe secured by integral side straps 8mm wide and 36cms long to the shaft, through which securing rivets pass at six points. The weight of the complete weapon would have been around 5kg, providing the mass and inertia which were the keys to its effectiveness. Held at an angle, with their butts lodged firmly in the ground and stabilised by the pikemens' insteps, a disciplined presentation of pikes could be devastating against charging foes, particularly cavalry. In attack the pike could be thrust forward at a target, exploiting its momentum and lowresistance point to give maximum penetration into armour or flesh (this tactic was the famous 'push' of the pike). These factors explain the purpose of the weapon's small but well-secured point, which focused the whole of the thrust's inertia and reinforced the business end of the pike, protecting it from being lopped off by edged weapons.

Infantry weapons and equipment

Seven wooden gunstocks have been recovered from the wreck of La Trinidad Valencera. In contrast to the ornate presentation pieces which have tended to survive into modem times they are plain and, with one exception, wholly undecorated. All are sear matchlocks of the most basic form, and are clearly ordinary service weapons. An example of each of the two main types carried by the Annada, the musket and arquebus, are illustrated in Fig. 8. They are similar to others in the group, and to examples recovered from other Annada wrecks, though no two are exactly alike, demonstrating that military handguns of this period lacked formal standardisation. Nevertheless the consistent division of the many thousands of lead bullets

82

Colin Martin: Before the battle: undeployed battlefield weaponry from the Spanish Armada, 1588

Figure 8. Stocks of(top) a musket and (bottom) an arquebus from La Trinidad Valencera. The musket stock measures 150 cm overall.

0 •

•

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10

0

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Figure 9. A priming flask (left) and full-sized powder flask (right) from La Trinidad Valencera.

83

Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

Though difficult to handle pikes were highly effective weapons in skilled hands and the Spaniards, according to the old English soldiers Leonard and Thomas Digges (1590: 97), held them 'in so great reputation, that they seldom commit them but to Gentlemen'.

consigned to the fleet and several examples have been recovered from the Valencera. These comfortable and durable sandals would have been much more suitable for campaigning than the privately owned high-fashion shoes. The troops carried their personal gear in cloth knapsacks, of which numerous but irrecoverable fragments were noted during excavation. Each man was supplied with a leather bottle for his ration of wine or water, and several have been recovered from the Valencera. They consist of welted goatskin bags lined with pitch, with plugged wooden funnels in the necks. The bottles had a capacity of about a litre, and were fitted with shoulder slings of woven cord (Fig. 10).

Several concreted helmets have been found on La Trinidad Valencera. All are of the parallel-brimmed morion type, with a pointed fore-and-aft ridge and flat sides designed to deflect blows. Most show evidence of etched surface decoration, and were further embellished with brass rosette-headed rivets which secured an internal lining band and padding, and a brass plume-holder at the rear. The soldiers evidently took precautions to protect their finely decorated helmets from the everyday knocks of service life, for one concreted fragment bears the impression of a coarse fabric outer covering. This discovery perhaps explains why, in some contemporary illustrations, Spanish soldiers' helmets are represented in a variety of colours. One of the helmets retained traces of its padding, which was of coarse cloth stuffed with pine needles, carefully laid to run parallel with the skull. This would have effectively absorbed impact transmitted via the surface of the helmet, and is similar in concept to the well-designed German infantry helmet of WWI (Dean 1920: 135-6). Sixteenth century Spanish morions were clearly designed with the hazards of combat engineering and trench warfare in mind. Two concreted breast-plates, or corseletes, were also found. These would have belonged to pikemen, a proportion of whom were equipped with body-armour. Both the helmets and body armour of pikemen, wrote Sir Roger Williams in 1590, should be proof against caliver (ie. arquebus) shot at 200 paces. The armoured pikemen were expected to lead the assault, while their nimbler but less well protected comrades followed in their wake to exploit the initial shock. Well-preserved fabrics from the wreck include the remains of woollen garments with elaborate facings and finishings. A find of particular interest is part of an heraldic surcoat, or repostero, on which traces of a design can still be discerned (Credit Communal Catalogue 1985: 160-65 & Pl.I). Sixteenth century soldiers dressed according to prevailing fashion, without regard to uniform appearance, and this is borne out by the variety of fabrics and design styles noted in the Valencera collection. Fashion consciousness extended to footwear, and several contemporary styles are evident in leather shoe remains from the same site (Credit Communal Catalogue 1985: 157-60). The most common form is a lightly constructed slipper-lilrn shoe secured with two flaps tied with a silk ribbon. Less suitable footwear for an infantryman is hard to imagine, although the fmd of a cloth anklet in association with a shoe of this type suggests that gaiters were worn to give ankle support.

(Note: manuscript sources are not given, but reference to them is contained in the relevant printed sources cited below).

More utilitarian footwear was however available for the Armada's troops. 8000 pairs ofrope-soled alpargatos were

Brown H.F. (ed.) 1894 Calendar of state papers (Venetian), vol. VITT,1581-1591. (London).

11

I I lc r 11

Figure 10. Goatskin water or wine bag with stopper and filling cup from La Trinidad Valencera.

References

84

Colin Martin: Before the battle: undeployed battlefield weaponry from the Spanish Armada, 1588

Capo Bianco A. 1602 Corona e palma militare di artigliera. (Venice). Cataneo, G. 1571 Del 'arte militare ... con l 'essamini de bombardieri. (Brescia). Collado Luis 1592 Platica manual de artilleria. (Milan). Correggio Francisco Balbi di 1568 Relacion de toda lo que el anno de MDLXV en la isla de Malta .... (Barcelona). Credit Communal Catalogue 1985 Tresors de !'Armada (catalogue of an exhibition held in Brussels, 1985). (Brussels). Dean B. 1920 Helmets and body armour in modern warfare. (New Haven and London). Digges L. & T. 1590 An arithmetical! warlike treatise named Stratioticos. (London). Fernandez Duro C. 1884 & 1885 La Armada lnvencible. Vols I and IL (Madrid). Flanagan L. 1988 Ireland's Armada legacy. (Dublin). Gentilini E. 1598 Jnstruttioni di artiglieri. (Venice). Lucar C. 1588 Tartaglia's colloquies and Lucar appendix. (London). Martin C. 1979 La Trinidad Valencera: an Armada invasion transport lost off Donegal. International Journal of Nautical Archaeology 8.1: 13-38. Martin C. 1983 The equipment and fighting potential of the Spanish Armada. (Unpublished Ph.D thesis, University of St Andrews). Martin C. 1988 A 16th century siege train: the battery ordnance of the 1588 Spanish Armada. International Journal of Nautical Archaeology 17.1: 57-73. Martin C. 1994 Incendiary weapons from the Spanish Armada wreck La Trinidad Valencera. International Journal of Nautical Archaeology 23.3: 207-217. Martin C. and Parker G. 1999 The Spanish Armada. (Manchester). Singer C., Holmyard, E.J., Hall AR. & Williams, T.I. (edd.) 1956 A history of technology, Vol IL (Oxford). Van Doorslaer G. 1910 L 'ancienne industrie de cuivre a Malines. (Malines). Vigon J. 1947 Historia de la artilleria Espanola. 3 vols. (Madrid). Williams R. 1590 A briefe discourse of warre. (London).

85

Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

86

The archaeology of attack : battles and sieges of the English Civil War Glenn Foard The study of defensive works has been part of mainstream archaeology for as long as the discipline has existed. In contrast the 'archaeology of attack', even when it relates to the engagements against which the defences were erected, has been sadly neglected in Britain. This is particularly true of unstratified artefact distributions and the reconstruction of the contemporary historical topography, for which the techniques of landscape archaeology are especially well suited. Only if burials are found will the archaeological profession usually weigh in with appropriate intensive excavation and analytical techniques, as with the mass grave excavated at Towton (Fiorato et al 2000). The field (quite literally) has been left to military historians while the archaeology, in the form of unstratified artefacts, has been left to metal detectorists ( eg. Tucker 1992). These metal detectorists, with a very few notable exceptions, are stripping the evidence from the sites at an alarming rate, without record and usually without any understanding of the destruction they are causing. As a direct result the battlefields and siege sites of England, a relatively rare and neglected class of archaeological monument, are under the severest threat. Largely neglected by our profession, the unstratified artefact scatters currently have no effective protection and no funds have been given for strategic survey to identify the scale or potential of the resource.

Abstract Archaeology can make a major contribution to the understanding of battles and sieges, especially through the systematic study of unstratified artefact scatters, but this has not been generally recognised in England. Through two English Civil War case studies, the Battle of Naseby (1645) and the minor siege of Grafton Regis, the potential is explored for the integrated study of artefact distributions and historical topography with the historical documentation for the actual events. Minor engagements are likely to be of as great a significance for the development of the methodology of battlefield archaeology as the major battles where complex patterns of overlapping action may need to be untangled. Ibis is however a very vulnerable archaeological resource which is being destroyed at an exceptional rate, particularly by unrecorded or poorly recorded metal detecting surveys. Given the effective management of much of the rest of the England's archaeology it is remarkable that there are no measures in place to conserve this resource, even on our major battlefields. A research agenda and effective methodology must be defined for the archaeological investigation of all battlefields in England and, if effective conservation cannot be achieved very rapidly, then there must be an urgent progrannne of rescue recording before it is too late.

Introduction

This paper is concerned with military action during the English Civil War of the mid-C 17th. Set piece battles during the war varied in scale from Marston Moor, almost certainly the largest battle on English soil which involved at least 45,000 men (Young 1970: 106), down to skirmishes such as Middleton Cheney, (Northants.), in 1643 involving perhaps no more 2000 troops (Baker 1822: 2, 657). Two Northamptonshire sites provide the main studies used in the paper. The first is Naseby, where in 1645 about 25,000 troops fought the deciding battle of the war. The second is the small siege of Grafton Regis where at Christmas 1643, over just three days, a force of 5000 besieged and reduced a garrison of about 200 (Foard 1995; 2000).

The much-vaunted Register of Battlefields (English Heritage 1995) has completely failed to address the conservation of the archaeology of our battlefields. It has also intentionally abandoned our siege sites in the misguided belief that such sites are effectively protected through the scheduling of defensive works. Such failings derive from the original conception of the Register where battlefields were viewed as essentially historic sites without a significant archaeological component. This perspective was reflected in and reinforced by the composition of the Battlefields Panel, the advisory committee that has overseen the whole process. The errors were further compounded by the appointment of military historians and interpretation professionals but no archaeologists to conduct the baseline studies for the compilation of the Register. As a result the critical skills of landscape archaeology were not applied. In the absence of effective reconstruction of historical topography and the recovery of evidence of artefact distributions, the registered boundaries of some of the most important battlefields may omit essential areas. This can be see in the case of Northampton battlefield (1460), where a very basic topographical study was submitted at the consultation stage and resulted in extensive revision of the area fmally registered (Foard 1994a). The failings urgently need to be rectified if there is to be any archaeology left to study on our battlefields and siege sites.

The primary objective of battlefield archaeology, as discussed here, is the advancement of knowledge of the military action, including the campaigns as well as the battles and sieges themselves. Such research is also important in informing the conservation process, with regard to the unstratified as well as stratified archaeological remains and also the relevant historic features from that period, which remain visible in the modem landscape. This information can also of course in its tum contribute to the interpretative process, enabling a more accurate and effective explanation of the events for the public.

87

Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

burial pits may also be expected to be scattered across many miles beyond, representing the retreat or flight from the field pursued by the victorious forces.

The origins of battlefield archaeology

There had been antiquarian interest in battlefields since at least the early C18th and battlefield archaeology had a most propitious and early origin, on Naseby field in 1842 (Foard 1995: 343-382). Edward Fitzgerald, the son of the local landowner, had been recruited to collect information locally about the battle by Thomas Carlyle, who was then preparing his famous three volumes of Cromwell's letters and speeches (Carlyle 1845). Fitzgerald collected field names and other topographical evidence, recorded the contemporary landscape in watercolours and sketches, identified where local people had found military artefacts and where local tradition placed the events. Finally he set about a campaign of excavation on the battlefield, opening up a series of pits, only one of which proved to be a mass grave. Carlyle did not have the vision to see the significance of this pioneering work, the barest record of which languished in notebooks, unused in the study of the battle for nearly 150 years. Fitzgerald went off to a famous literary career and battlefield archaeology was stillborn.

Historical topography

The greatest limitation in battlefield studies by military historians has been a failure to establish the detail of the contemporary landscape within which the events took place. In the C19th, Markham in particular did place the battalia against a background of physical topography and attempted to identify some contemporary features, an approach followed much later by W oolrych (Markham 1870; Woolrych 1961). Major advances should have followed the recognition by Newman of the importance of reconstruction of historical topography to battlefield studies, but the principles he outlined were not immediately followed (Newman 1978; 1979; 1981). Thus in the later C20th one could still find major battlefield studies, typified by Smurthwaite's 'Guide' and repeated in the studies for the Battlefields Register, which place stylised battle formations and key topographical features, mentioned in contemporary battle accounts, almost arbitrarily against a modem map base (Smurthwaite 1984; English Heritage 1994). Ifwe are to understand adequately why specific battles developed in the way they did and understand the decisions taken by military commanders it is essential that, as far as possible, we understand the landscape as they would have seen it. To do this, we must apply the principles of historic landscape reconstruction, which has been most fully developed in landscape archaeology. There are two main levels of reconstrnction; that of the wider campaign and then of the battle itself, for both of which the methodology has been applied to the Naseby campaign (Foard 1995).

Although there remained a passing antiquarian interest in these sites, in England battlefield studies remained the province of military historians until the late 1970s. It is then that Newman, as a complement to his reassessment of the documentary evidence for the Battle of Marston Moor ( 1644), clearly states the basic principles of the analysis of historical topography and artefact scatters in battlefield study (Newman 1978; 1979; 1981). Unfortunately the intended appendices of his book on the battle were not published and so neither the detail of the survey nor the archaeological evidence that it produced were made available for us to be able to judge or question its meaning, or to assess critically the methodology. Neither, perhaps in part for the same reason, did the book contain detailed reconstruction of historical topography or integration of the documentary evidence for the armies within that contemporary landscape. Even today there is still not a single published study of a battlefield in Britain to match the combined archaeological and historical work on a series of battlefield sites across the USA (eg. Scott & Fox 1989; Haecker 1994).

It is important that battles and their associated campaigns,

including any sieges, are viewed together. In most cases the outcome of battles are intimately linked to the control of territory, and hence resources of men, money and supplies, through the garrison system. The fate of garrisons when facing major armies typically depends upon the presence or absence of relieving forces, which is something that battles often determine. Hence, although it is not practical to attempt detailed landscape reconstruction for the wider campaign, which may cover hundreds of square miles, it is essential to establish a basic context. This should comprise the location and significance of garrisons, major communication routes, including the important bridges, and a broad picture of land use to distinguish extensive areas of moorland and woodland and between open or enclosed agricultural land. This is essential information to enable the examination of issues of logistics and strategy. For example, the location of the royalist army at Daventry in the week before the Battle of Naseby is explained not simply by the presence of an easily defended Iron Age hillfort site. Daventry also lay on the road from Leicester, which the king had just stormed, to his capital at Oxford at the point where it crossed the road to London, the single most imp01tant road in England

Methodology of battlefield study

Landscape archaeology is usually concerned with the study of processes that occurred over tens or hundreds of years, but the techniques can equally be applied to understand events which, in the case of battles, occurred over just a few hours. Both the reconstruction of historical topography and systematic survey for unstratified artefact distributions, in this case normally through metal detecting, can be applied to battlefields and siege sites. The latter may also have siegeworks of various kinds, in addition to the defensive circuit of the garrison itself (cf. Courtney this volume). In contrast, almost without exception, on battlefields the only stratified evidence will be the burials. These will typically be found as mass graves on the battlefield itself, although in some engagements such 88

GIenn Foard: The archaeology of attack : battles and sieges of the English Civil War

before the war. It also controlled what probably superceded the London road, at least for parliamentarian forces during the war, the alternative route to London via the garrison town of Northampton. Similarly, in moving his army to challenge the King Fairfax, commander of parliament's New Model Anny, advanced through parliamentarian controlled territory, from garrison to garrison, using major roads and bridges. This was the easiest way to move an army of some 15,000 men together with its train of artillery and baggage. The choice of a wide major road through an unenclosed landscape will have had an important influence on the speed and safety in which a major army was able to move. The difficulties which were often encountered can be seen from the records of the establishment for the New Model Anny which state: " ...for Pyoneers 100, or 120 is as little as may be for making the wayes for the Gonnes and the Carriages with one part, the other to cutt the hedges that the foot and horse may march on both sides the Traine without retarding it, by which meanes the march may be advanced 4 or 5 miles in a day" (PRO SP28/145, f.63).

accurately as possible, their location and extent. For example, preliminary results from new work at Marston Moor suggest the failures of the parliamentarian centre and right wing of infantry may in part be attributed to the presence of several isolated hedged enclosures behind which royalist musketeers were able to take cover and through which the parliamentarian battallia had to advance (Foard & Roberts in prep.). The great time depth and complexity in the evolution of the historic landscape of England demands an appropriate methodology for the reconstruction of historical topography. This is best done using regressive map analysis complemented by field evidence, working to the highly accurate 1st edition Ordnance Survey (OS) map base, containing many features now lost, and thus transferred to a modem OS base. For the broad context one can use the 1" scale OS mapping of the earlier to midC19th and for the detailed work on the battlefield and its immediate environs one should use the 6" scale OS mapping of the mid- to late C19th (Harley 1964). For midCl 7th England the primary sources for the broad reconstruction of the communication pattern are the earliest maps showing major roads, especially Ogilby's 'Itinerary' and Morden's county maps (Ogilby 1675; Gibson 1695). These can be supported by reference to earlier written sources such as the various late C16th itineraries ( eg. Harrison 1587). For individual counties there may be other unique sources showing roads, such as the Berkshire county map of the late C16th (British Library, Royal 18 D III, f.31) or the various late Cl6th county maps by Norden. This can be supplemented by larger scale C18th county maps, such as the series by Thomas Jefferys, which provide extensive detail of the road pattern, though they must be used with extreme care as many of the new turnpike roads had been constructed by the time of these surveys. In addition reference can be made to one of the pocket books of distance tables for each county that were in use during the war (eg. Jenner 1643).

Each battle and the manoeuvres that immediately preceded it can and must be placed in a far more detailed contemporary landscape context. The choice of ground on which to fight and the exact deployment of troops in battalia were based on sound military principles. The commanders will have exploited the strengths and weaknesses of the equipment and related tactics of the period, determined of course by the composition of the forces the commander had to hand and his perception of the landscape, enhanced by the intelligence provided by both army scouts and local guides. By the mid-Cl 7th much of the west, south and east of England had long been enclosed or indeed had never had medieval open field systems. However there were still extensive areas of open field landscape, especially in the 'central province' of nucleated villages stretching across the centre of England from Northumberland to Dorset (Roberts & Wrathmell 1998). It was in this landscape that most of the major battles of the war were fought. Yet even here there were already many townships which were wholly or partly enclosed into fields with hedges or in places with stone walls. Other often very extensive open areas comprised heath and moorland, and not just in upland areas, as can be seen from the extensive Cl 7th floodplain moorland in the vale of York where the Battle of Marston Moor was fought. Commanders will also have viewed woodland, like enclosures, as a major limiting factor. To use effectively the set piece deployments detailed in the Cl 7th military manuals required an open landscape, especially if the strengths of cavalry were to be exploited. A commander would, however, ideally exploit enclosed, wooded, steep or boggy terrain to protect against outflanking moves. In certain circumstances he might however take a defensive posture, particularly if relatively weak in cavalry, and intentionally seek out the protection of hedgerows for his infantry. Such features, even if of limited extent, could therefore have a dramatic effect on the course of a battle and hence we must establish, as

There will rarely be mid-C 17th estate maps to assist in the detailed landscape reconstruction, though one does survive for Naseby, but much can be achieved through the careful use of later and earlier maps. They can often be supplemented with evidence from Cl 7th surveys, deeds and other sources to fix the date of origin or demise of particular hedged fields, areas of wood or moor and other relevant features. In the absence of early maps, though more demanding, the areas of early enclosure may often be reconstructed from evidence in Enclosure A wards, and open field patterns from open field terriers, field names and archaeological evidence of ridge and furrow (Hall 1995: 36-50; 1997). The potential for such reconstruction will vary between parishes and between regions and some problems of detail will often remain. For example questions still exist over the exact location and extent of the closes at the boundary of Sibbertoft, Sulby and Naseby parishes which played a key role in the Battle of Naseby (Foard 1995: 209-215). In certain cases it may also be possible for archaeological investigation to assist in the 89

Fields of Conflict: Progress and prospect in battlefield archaeology

understanding of the character and constraints of the contemporary landscape, whether through the identification of the pale of a warren or the recovery of pollen evidence as to the exact nature of the ground cover and extent of marsh, as is required at Marston Moor.

tested by the independent discussed below.

archaeological

evidence

Other deployments, particularly of dragoons or commanded musketeers used to line hedges, will be even more dependent upon topographical reconstruction for accurate location. This is seen clearly at Naseby where deployment of Okey's dragoons appears to have forced the premature royalist attack before their artillery had been brought into position (Foard 1995: 245-248). Topographical features can also shed light on the location of the events during the battle. This may be the case at Marston Moor where the Earl of Newcastle's regiment is said in one account to have made their final stand in a small close, though identification has so far proved very problematic (Newman 1978; 1979; 1981; Foard & Roberts in prep.).

Mapping deployments

Specific topographical features mentioned in contemporary accounts of battles can enable precise positioning of battalia and of specific actions if those features can be accurately located. For example, all but one regiment of Cromwell's cavalry wing at Naseby was positioned in a rabbit warren, enabling exact reconstruction of each division of cavalry once the warren was accurately mapped (Foard 1995:229). Contemporary plans of deployment exist for only a few of the major battles involving English troops in the 1640s-1650s: Edgehill (reprinted in Young 1967: Pl.9), Newbury, Naseby, Marston Moor & Dunl(irk (British Library, Add. MS 16370, f.60-67) and others for Naseby (Bodleian Library, Ms Eng Hist c.51, f.197-8; Sprigge 1647) and Marston Moor (reprinted in Young 1970: Pl.21). For other battles the often more problematic evidence of written accounts must be exploited. However in both situations the principles of deployment laid down in the military manuals of the first half of the C 17th can be employed (Cruso 1632; Barriffe 1635; Ward 1639; Hexham 1639; Vernon 1644; Elton 1650 supplemented by Venn 1672). The manuals give precise spacings for each man or horse and also suggest ideal spacing between regiments in the frontages of the battallia and depths of deployment, so enabling frontages of regiments and brigades or tercios to be calculated from estimates of cavalry and infantry numbers for a particular engagement. Young and others have brought together information on regimental strengths, based on contemporary sources, for most major battles (Toynbee & Young 1970; Young 1967; 1970; 1985; Adair 1973). For the parliamentarian forces further, and for some regiments very detailed, evidence on troop numbers in specific regiments is available in largely untapped but poorly catalogued Exchequer Papers of 16421660 (PRO SP28).

Artefact distributions

The distribution of artefacts across a battlefield provides archaeological evidence for the action that is quite independent of the documentary sources. However, in contrast the situation encountered in landscapes in the USA, such as the 1876 battlefield of the Little Big Hom, the English landscape, except for some upland areas, has been intensively exploited for centuries before and after the battles of the Civil War. There is therefore a background scatter of artefacts of many periods, including the Cl 7th. Especially where arable land was concerned, there will often be numerous objects that were deposited during manuring as well as through casual loss. Analysis must therefore be restricted to distinctly military artefacts unless significant associations can be demonstrated. The latter may be either exceptional densities of objects, by reference to wider survey which provides a local nonbattlefield control for each type of battlefield landscape ( open field, closes, moorland etc.), or where such artefacts have a clear pattern of association with known military artefacts. Fortunately, unlilrn medieval battlefields such as Towton, Civil War battlefields produce extensive evidence directly related to the action. This is due to the key role played by firearms in C 17th engagements and hence the presence of large quantities of lead 'bullets' or shot from muskets, pistols and carbines as well as small numbers of iron 'round shot', and probably also case-shot from artillery. It is the sheer quantity of shot that is significant on Civil War battlefields and siege sites. Surveys at Naseby, Cheriton (1644) and Marston Moor have each produced of the order of 1000-2500 bullets, while over 600 have come from the siege site at Grafton Regis (Fig. 1). The pattern may, however, be confused in some circumstances by later shot which might be indistinguishable from that fired in the Civil War, though the quantities involved should rarely be such as to significantly distort the pattern. At Boarstall the presence of several shot with two raised bands around them set at right angles and identified as a short lived type of C 19th shot for use in a rifled barrel, shows that later material can contaminate a Civil War distribution.

The principles outlined in the manuals provide ideal deployments, which would not always fit neatly within the topographical framework, for ideals had often to be compromised where there were physical constraints. At Marston Moor, for example, contemporary accounts specify that the parliamentarian battalia was constrained by the enclosures of Long Marston village on the right and of Tockwith on the left and even then the pioneers had to cut hedges to enable the forces to be deployed within that restricted area (Young 1970: 229, 239). However, at Naseby the combination of documentary, topographical and archaeological evidence raises more fundamental questions about the detail of deployments as previously understood from the manuals, in particular the spacing between regiments in a battalia. It is important that such questions are tested more rigorously on other battlefields by the detailed reconstruction of frontages which are then 90

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