Pits, Settlement and Deposition during the Neolithic and Early Bronze Age in East Anglia 9781841717487, 9781407320663

Table of contents :
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
TABLE OF CONTENTS
List of figures
List of tables
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1. Introduction
Chapter 2. Pits, settlement and deposition: past interpretations
Chapter 3. Pit sites in East Anglia: a regional study
Introduction to Chapters 4, 5, 6 and 7
Chapter 4. Earlier Neolithic
Chapter 5. Peterborough Ware
Chapter 6. Grooved Ware
Chapter 7. Beaker
Chapter 8. Monuments, artefact scatters and flint mines
Chapter 9. Landscape, deposition and place in East Anglia
Appendix 1. Catalogue of pit sites in East Anglia
Appendix 2. Kilverstone finds tables
Appendix 3. Over Sites 3 and 4 finds tables
References

Citation preview

BAR  414  2006   GARROW  

Pits, Settlement and Deposition during the Neolithic and Early Bronze Age in East Anglia

PITS, SETTLEMENT & DEPOSITION IN NEOLITHIC & E.B.A. EAST ANGLIA

Duncan Garrow

BAR British Series 414 B A R

2006

Pits, Settlement and Deposition during the Neolithic and Early Bronze Age in East Anglia

Pits, Settlement and Deposition during the Neolithic and Early Bronze Age in East Anglia

Duncan Garrow

BAR British Series 414 2006

ISBN 9781841717487 paperback ISBN 9781407320663 e-format DOI https://doi.org/10.30861/9781841717487 A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

BAR

PUBLISHING

Contents Page Contents List of figures List of tables Acknowledgements

i iii v vi

Chapter 1 1.1 1.2 1.3

Introduction Study region Temporal scale Overall structure

1 1 2 2

Chapter 2 2.1 2.2 2.3

Pits, settlement and deposition: past interpretations Introduction Interpretations Summary

3 3 3 10

Chapter 3 3.1 3.2 3.3 3.4 3.5 3.6

Pit sites in East Anglia: a regional study Introduction Analysis Results Geographical and geological location of sites Neolithic and EBA landscapes: the wider picture Discussion

12 12 12 14 15 19 20

Introduction to Chapters 4, 5, 6 and 7

24

Chapter 4 4.1 4.2 4.3 4.4 4.5 4.6 4.7

Earlier Neolithic Introduction Site-scale analysis Feature-scale analysis Material culture-scale analysis Summary Case study: Kilverstone, Norfolk Conclusions

25 25 26 34 35 40 40 58

Chapter 5 5.1 5.2 5.3 5.4 5.5 5.6 5.7

Peterborough Ware Introduction Site-scale analysis Feature-scale analysis Material culture-scale analysis Summary Case study: Barleycroft (Site H), Cambridgeshire Conclusions

60 60 61 67 67 70 71 78

Chapter 6 6.1 6.2 6.3 6.4 6.5 6.6 6.7

Grooved Ware Introduction Site-scale analysis Feature-scale analysis Material culture-scale analysis Summary Case study: Over (Sites 3 and 4), Cambridgeshire Conclusions

80 80 81 88 89 92 93 117

i

Chapter 7 7.1 7.2 7.3 7.4 7.5 7.6 7.7

Beaker Introduction Site-scale analysis Feature-scale analysis Material culture-scale analysis Summary Case study: Longham, Norfolk Conclusions

119 119 119 127 127 130 131 137

Chapter 8 8.1 8.2 8.3 8.4 8.5

Monuments, artefact scatters and flint mines Introduction Monuments Artefact scatters Flint mines Summary

139 139 139 145 147 147

Chapter 9 9.1 9.2 9.3

Landscape, deposition and place in East Anglia Introduction Landscape, deposition and place Concluding summary

149 149 152

Appendix 1 Appendix 2 Appendix 3

Catalogue of pit sites in East Anglia Kilverstone finds tables Over Sites 3 and 4 finds tables

154 157 161 162

References

ii

List of figures Page 0.01

Experimental pit

vii

1.01

Study region

2

2.01 2.02 2.03 2.04 2.05

Section drawing of Wyman Abbot's pits at Fengate Pits at Woodlands, near Woodhenge ‘Storage’ pits at Hurst Fen Structured deposition at Durrington Walls ‘Deposition as artwork’. Grooved Ware pits from Over, Cambridgeshire.

4 4 5 6 8

3.01 3.02 3.03 3.04 3.05 3.06 3.07 3.08 3.09 3.10 3.11 3.12

Pottery chronology Number of sites by period Number of pits by period Range of site sizes by period Pit sites in relation to topography Pit sites in relation to geology Distribution of pit sites by phase Modern excavations and pit sites on different subsoils Monuments in relation to topography Monuments in relation to geology Artefact scatters/stray finds in relation to topography Artefact scatters/stray finds in relation to geology

13 14 14 15 17 17 18 19 21 21 22 22

4.01 4.02 4.03 4.04 4.05 4.06 4.07 4.08 4.09 4.10 4.11 4.12 4.13 4.14 4.15 4.16 4.17 4.18 4.19 4.20 4.21 4.22 4.23 4.24 4.25 4.26 4.27

Earlier Neolithic sites discussed in Chapter 4 View of Spong Hill landscape today Kilverstone and Hurst Fen Spong Hill and Broome Heath Barleycroft Farm and Eaton Heath Yarmouth Road and Padholme Road, Fengate Hall Farm Reservoir and Longham Possible post-hole structure at Spong Hill Range of pit sizes on Earlier Neolithic sites Three multi-layered sections from Broome Heath Reconstructed pots from Hurst Fen Kilverstone today Kilverstone, Areas A and E in relation to local topography Kilverstone, Area A Kilverstone, Area E Distribution of artefacts within Pit F19, Kilverstone F22, Area E, Kilverstone Pit clusters in Areas A and E, Kilverstone A regular cluster, Area E, Kilverstone Quantities of flint and pottery in Area E, Kilverstone Density of flint and pottery relative to pit size, Kilverstone Kilverstone pottery analysis in progress Pots from Kilverstone Unburnt/burnt and weathered/unweathered re-fitting sherds, Kilverstone Pots/pit correspondence in Area E, Kilverstone Pottery and flint connections in Area E, Kilverstone Pottery and flint dynamics within Cluster B, Area E, Kilverstone

25 26 28 29 30 31 32 33 35 37 38 41 41 42 42 44 44 45 45 46 47 48 48 49 49 50 54

5.01 5.02 5.03 5.04 5.05 5.06 5.07

Peterborough Ware sites discussed in Chapter 5 Barleycroft H and Brancaster Middle Harling and Co-op, Fengate Redgate Hill and Hinxton Kilverstone A and Barleycroft I Little Bealings and Yarmouth Road Range of pit sizes on Peterborough Ware sites

60 62 63 64 65 66 68

iii

5.08 5.09 5.10 5.11 5.12 5.13

Peterborough Ware sherds from Middle Harling The Barleycroft landscape today Barleycroft Site H Pit F1011, Barleycroft H being planned following excavation Pit pairs at Barleycroft H plotted in terms of relative size Peterborough Ware pottery from Barleycroft H

70 71 72 73 74 74

6.01 6.02 6.03 6.04 6.05 6.06 6.07 6.08 6.09 6.10 6.11 6.12 6.13 6.14 6.15 6.16 6.17 6.18 6.19 6.20 6.21 6.22 6.23 6.24 6.25 6.26 6.27 6.28 6.29

Grooved Ware sites discussed in Chapter 6 Flixton and Over 3 and 4 Over 2 and Storey's Bar Road, Fengate Redgate Hill and Great Bealings Martlesham and Middle Harling Markshall and Eynesbury Grooved Ware structure at Over 2 A pit and its contents, Over Site 2 Range of pit sizes on Grooved Ware sites Context sheet sketch of 'stack of scrapers', Over 2 Grooved Ware pit at Middle Harling The Over landscape today Aerial view of the fen-edge landscape at Over Archaeological investigations around Sites 3 and 4 at Over Over, Site 3 Over, Site 4c Over, Site 4d F474, Site 3, Over Skull deposit in F373, Site 3, Over The northernmost cluster, Site 3, Over Quantities of flint and pottery on Site 4, Over Densities of flint and pottery relative to pit size, Over Grooved Ware from Over, Sites 3 and 4 Pottery connections on Site 3, Over Pottery connections on Site 4, Over Flints probably from the same source in different pits, Site 3, Over Flint connections on Site 3, Over Post-built structure, Site 3, Over Buried soil sampling on Site 3, Over

80 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 88 89 89 94 94 95 96 97 98 99 99 100 101 102 103 105 106 107 108 110 112

7.01 7.02 7.03 7.04 7.05 7.06 7.07 7.08 7.09 7.10 7.11 7.12 7.13 7.14 7.15 7.16

Beaker sites discussed in Chapter 7 Worlingham and Longham Bittering and Kilverstone B Trowse and Redgate Hill Spong Hill and Cherry Hinton Fison Way and Martlesham Heath Scatter underneath barrow at Martlesham Heath Sampling of the buried soil at Kilverstone Range of pit sizes on Beaker sites The Longham quarry today Longham (Site 13025) Longham - the main pit cluster Longham - the main pit cluster (photo) Finds from the most recently excavated Beaker pit site at Longham Longham pottery analysis in progress Sherds from F178, Longham

119 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 131 132 133 133 134 134 135

8.01 8.02 8.03 8.04 8.05 8.06 8.07 8.08

Locations of sites discussed in Chapter 8 Deposits within the oval enclosure ditch at Eynesbury Dumps of bone within the causewayed enclosure ditch at Etton An 'unusual' deposit at Etton Arranged deposit at Haddenham Antler picks within the cursus ditch at Eynesbury Landscape-scale fieldwalking at Eye Hill Antler picks found during the excavation of Shaft 1, Grime's Graves

139 141 142 142 143 144 146 147

iv

List of tables Page 3.01 3.02

Range of site sizes Percentages of sites on different subsoils

14 19

4.01 4.02 4.03 4.04 4.05 4.06 4.07 4.08 4.09 4.10

The ten Earlier Neolithic sites discussed in Chapter 4 Summary of Earlier Neolithic pit diameters Summary of Earlier Neolithic pit depths Summary of finds from Earlier Neolithic sites Composition of the ten Earlier Neolithic flint assemblages Summary of pottery from Earlier Neolithic sites Summary of pit sizes at Kilverstone Summary of finds from the pits at Kilverstone Basic details of Kilverstone pottery assemblages Basic details of Kilverstone flint assemblages

26 34 34 36 38 39 43 43 49 50

5.01 5.02 5.03 5.04 5.05 5.06 5.07 5.08 5.09 5.10 5.11

The ten Peterborough Ware sites discussed in Chapter 5 Summary of Peterborough Ware pit diameters Summary of Peterborough Ware pit depths Summary of finds from Peterborough Ware sites Composition of the Peterborough Ware flint assemblages Summary of pit sizes at Barleycroft, Site H Summary of finds from the Barleycroft Site H Composition of the Peterborough Ware pit assemblages Composition of the Peterborough Ware tree-throw assemblages Comparative quantities of pottery at Barleycroft and Kilverstone Quantities of pottery and flint in each pair at Barleycroft

61 67 67 69 69 73 73 75 75 75 77

6.01 6.02 6.03 6.04 6.05 6.06 6.07 6.08 6.09 6.10

The ten Grooved Ware sites discussed in Chapter 6 Summary of Grooved Ware pit diameters Summary of Grooved Ware pit depths Summary of finds from Grooved Ware sites Composition of the Grooved Ware flint assemblages Overall composition of the Grooved Ware flint assemblage without Middle Harling Summary of pit sizes at Over 3 and 4 Summary of finds from the pits at Over 3 and 4 Basic details of the Over pottery assemblage Composition of the Over flint assemblage (from pit contexts)

81 88 88 90 90 91 99 104 104 109

7.01 7.02 7.03 7.04 7.05 7.06 7.07 7.08 7.09 7.10 7.11

The ten Beaker sites discussed in Chapter 7 Summary of Beaker pit diameters Summary of Beaker pit depths Summary of finds from Beaker sites The composition of the Beaker flint assemblages The composition of Beaker flint assemblages by context at Kilverstone Summary of pit sizes at Longham Summary of finds from Longham Pottery variability at Longham Composition of the Longham flint assemblage Comparative quantities of pottery from each of the four case study sites

126 127 127 128 129 129 133 134 135 135 136

8.01 8.02 8.03 8.04 8.05

Excavated long barrows and oval enclosures Excavated causewayed and other enclosures Excavated cursuses Excavated henges and timber circles The selected sample of fifteen excavated ring-ditches

141 142 143 145 145

v

Acknowledgements There are many people without whom it would not have been possible to carry out this study (which is a slightly altered version of my PhD thesis, submitted to the University of Cambridge under the same title in July 2005). I would like to thank the Arts and Humanities Research Board/Council for my doctoral research studentship; Jan Allen (Norfolk), Nick Boldrini (N. Yorkshire), Stuart Cakebread (Kent), Colin Pendleton (Suffolk), Sarah Poppy (Cambridgeshire), Ben Robinson (Peterborough) and staff at Wiltshire C.C. for their help with SMR research; Stuart Boulter (Suffolk C.C. Archaeology Service), Chris Ellis (Wessex Archaeology), Charly French (Cambridge University), Jane Matthews (Cambridge Archaeological Unit), Ian Meadows (Northamptonshire Archaeology), Colin Pendleton, Jessica Smyth (University College, Dublin) and Greg Speed (Northern Archaeological Associates) for sparing the time to answer my questions concerning unpublished sites; Tim Pestell (Norwich Castle Museum) and Lucy Talbot (Norfolk Archaeological Unit) for their assistance in gaining access to the material from Longham; Norma Challands for help with finds at the Cambridge Archaeological Unit; Trevor Ashwin and Sarah Percival for discussing many aspects of archaeology in Norfolk; Colin Pendleton for the same in Suffolk; JD Hill for inspiring my initial interest in deposition, and for his help in the early stages of this project; Chris Gosden for his help in the later stages; Marcus Abbot and Andy Hall for their assistance with several illustrations; Helen Lewis for proof-reading this text; Ulla Rajala and Fraser Sturt for assistance with GIS; Chris Evans and David Gibson for making the Cambridge Archaeological Unit a dynamic place to work, and for allowing me unrestricted access to excavation archives; Emma Beadsmoore and Mark Knight for their hard work and inspiration in analysing the material from Kilverstone; and Chantal Conneller, Helen Farr, Brad Gravina, Rob Law, Lesley McFadyen, David Robinson, Fraser Sturt, Thomas Yarrow and many others for making Cambridge a friendly and rewarding place to work. I would also like to thank a number of institutions and individuals for allowing me to reproduce their original illustrations: Cambridge Archaeological Unit (numerous images); English Heritage (Figs 8.3, 8.4); Norfolk Archaeology and Environment/Norfolk Archaeological Unit (Figs 4.8, 5.8, 6.11, 7.13); Joshua Pollard (Fig. 6.19); the Prehistoric Society and Julie Gardiner (Figs 2.3, 2.4, 4.10, 4.11, 8.7); Colin Richards and Julian Thomas (Fig. 2.5); Suffolk County Council Archaeology Service (Figs 6.2, 7.7); the Trustees of the British Museum (Fig. 8.8); and Wessex Archaeology and Chris Ellis (Figs 8.2, 8.6). I would especially like to thank Mark Knight for teaching me how to dig pits and how to think about them; Chris Evans for allowing me to publish the sites at Barleycroft and Over before the CAU’s own publication process has been fully completed; Mark Edmonds for his help in commenting on, editing and improving this piece of work; my PhD supervisor, Marie-Louise Stig Sørensen, for her critical approach and insightful comments throughout; my PhD examiners, Josh Pollard and Julian Thomas, for a helpful and constructive discussion within my viva, for sharing their thoughts on how to improve the original thesis, and for encouraging me to publish it here in its entirety; and finally, Anwen Cooper, for the many different ways – too numerous to mention – in which she helped this piece of work come about.

vi

June 2002

June 2002

August 2002

January 2003

March 2003

June 2003

December 2003

February 2004

July 2004

October 2004

February 2005

May 2005

In June 2002, an ‘experimental’ pit was dug, and backfilled, in the Fellows’ Garden of St John’s College, Cambridge. It was then photographed once a month, as it gradually disappeared from view. vii

1. INTRODUCTION

Chapter 1. Introduction Due to its dark grey fills, Feature 22 stood out clearly against the surrounding natural yellow sand. Initially, a fragment of pottery and several flint flakes could be seen emerging from its machined surface. As excavation continued, piece by piece, pottery (from several vessels), flint (mostly working debris but some tools), burnt stones, charred hazelnut shells and seeds were recovered from its fills. The finds were often clustered together in groups, but did not appear to have been ‘placed’ – skewed at many different angles, it seemed they had been dumped in as part of a wider matrix of soil. Small lumps of charcoal adhered to many artefacts; hazelnut shells appeared in dense concentrations within particularly dark, charcoalrich lenses; a few flints were crazed and cracked from heat; some sherds appeared fresh, but others were heavily abraded. At a certain depth, the feature’s near-vertical sides curved gently to a rounded base. Emptied completely of its fills, the edges appeared sculpted and fresh, cut into soft sand. An Earlier Neolithic pit. (Excavated by the writer, September 2002).

The study of pits almost inevitably leads to a consideration of the broader issues of settlement and deposition, a fact reflected in the second part of the title. Despite the increased attention that pits have received recently, our understanding of them remains far from complete. While certain issues – their role as vessels for the deposition of material culture, their effect in terms of the creation of ‘place’ – have been thought through in detail, others are not well understood (see discussion in Chapter 2). Similarly, archaeological accounts of the Neolithic and EBA have often been constructed largely on the basis of a detailed understanding of monuments alone. This study aims to take our understanding of pits further, and – in focusing primarily on a category of evidence which is distinctly non-monumental – to work as a counterweight to traditional narratives, contributing to a more balanced account of the period. 1.1. Study region East Anglia, which is defined here as Norfolk, Suffolk and Cambridgeshire (Figure 1.1), was chosen as the study region for a variety of reasons. In recent years, there has been a move towards understanding the Neolithic and EBA at a regional level, emphasising the variability between areas, rather than homogenising the evidence into a unified nationwide narrative (e.g. Cooney 1997; Thomas 1998; Barclay 2000). In terms of its distinctive character, East Anglia is a region where Neolithic and EBA pits are a particularly prominent feature. Many of the best known pit sites have been found in the region (e.g. Clark et al. 1960; Wainwright 1972; Pryor 1978; Healy 1988). Since the advent of developer-funded archaeology, numerous other impressive sites have been excavated (e.g. Evans & Knight 1997; 2004; Pollard 1998; Boulter 2000; Garrow et al. forthcoming; see also Chapters 4-7). While pits are, of course, a key feature of other regions as well (e.g. Stone & Young 1948; Case 1973; Richards 1990; Abramson 1996; Tavener 1996; Gibson 1999a; Manby 1999; Thomas 1999a; Brossler et al. 2004; J. Smyth pers. comm.), they nevertheless do seem to be particularly prevalent in East Anglia. This regional characteristic is in some ways made to seem more extreme because of the paucity of monuments, which relative to much of Britain are few and far between prior to the EBA (Cleal 1984; Bradley 1993a; see also Chapters 3 and 8). The fact that pits have been found in such large numbers ensures that East Anglia is not only a good place, but also a particularly important place, to attempt to understand them better. Their prominence within the archaeological record means that – even more than elsewhere – we cannot understand the Neolithic/EBA of the region without doing so.

As the order of words within its title suggests, the following study focuses first and foremost on pits, like the one described above. As archaeologists, we dig a variety of different feature types: ditches, post-holes, hearths, graves, floors, walls, wells, pits. Most of these words have ready associations or preconceived meanings implicit within them: a ditch would have demarcated a specific space, perhaps around a field or settlement enclosure; a post-hole would have housed a wooden timber upright and probably formed part of a building; a hearth was a place of warmth and fire and cooking; a grave contained a human burial and perhaps artefacts as well; and so on. The word ‘pit’, on the other hand, is reserved for features which do not have an immediately obvious meaning or role. It has a sense of ambiguity to it, and so has to be qualified in order for us to understand its nature: a ‘cremation’ pit, a ‘rubbish’ pit, a ‘cess’ pit or ‘quarry’ pit. During the Neolithic and Early Bronze Age, pits prove difficult to pin down in this way. They are not easily categorised. The aim of this study is to consider such pits – from a particular period, in a particular region – in substantial detail, not necessarily in order to find a single word to put in front of them to clarify their meaning, but rather to address questions concerning the kinds of practices and places they represent. In recent years, Neolithic and Early Bronze Age (EBA) pits have come to be discussed more than ever before (a historiography of their incorporation within archaeological narratives is presented in Chapter 2). Arguably, this has happened for three main reasons: an increased interest in defining the character of ‘settlement’ at that time; a broad recognition that deposition in a variety of contexts was a very important aspect of people’s lives; and a substantial increase in the number of known sites following the introduction of developer-funded archaeology.

The region was also selected on pragmatic grounds. It is an area whose archaeology I know well, having worked there for several years. The choice of a study area defined by three modern counties, rather than by natural features such as rivers, ensured that initial Sites and Monument Record (SMR) searches were logistically viable: the study was 1

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION always going to include large numbers of recent excavations, many of which would therefore only have been published as ‘grey’ reports, and so would only be available in SMRs. The relatively limited geographical scope also ensured that the number of sites remained manageable. This investigation operates at a number of different scales, but primarily focuses in on the site level (Chapters 4 to 8). Consequently, it simply was not necessary, and did not seem appropriate, to incorporate larger numbers of sites, across a larger area. While the study focuses closely on one particular region, it is hoped that the detailed understanding which emerges (only possible as a result of that close focus) will have important implications in terms of our interpretations of pit sites right across Britain.

During the EBA, the number of pit sites drops dramatically (see Chapter 3); the decision to incorporate Collared Urn and Food Vessel-associated sites within this study ensures that the period during which this happened is covered. After the EBA, the landscape came to be defined in different ways (through field systems, roundhouses, etc). Pits are still found, but they usually represent one aspect of a broad suite of features, rather than the entirety of one site; their role, it seems, had changed. For all of these reasons, it therefore seemed appropriate to draw the study to a close at the end of the EBA. 1.3. Overall structure The following investigation addresses a number of related themes. First and foremost, it explores the changing character of pits, in order to come to a better understanding of their role within the Neolithic and EBA. The process of studying pits inevitably, and necessarily, leads into a discussion of other issues of key importance to the period: in particular, the nature of settlement/landscape occupation, and the role of deposition as a practice. The study operates at a number of different scales. At its broadest, it takes place at the level of the regional landscape. At its most detailed, it considers the artefacts within individual features, investigating the intricate dynamics of deposition. The study presented here is divided into nine chapters. In Chapter 2, the wider context of inquiry is addressed, through a consideration of the ways in which, historically, accounts of the Neolithic and EBA – and pits, settlement and deposition in particular – have been constructed. Chapter 3 provides an overview of Neolithic and EBA archaeology within the study area, defining the basic parameters of investigation by assessing variability through time and space in terms of the broad character of sites, and considering the landscape context of pit sites. Chapters 4 to 7 investigate pits at a much more detailed level. Each chapter addresses the evidence from one pottery-defined phase, considering first a representative sample of ten sites, and then one particular site in substantial detail. By focusing on the historical development of sites, and analysing the material in detail, discussion is taken beyond the pits themselves towards a consideration of wider issues such as the scale and temporality of settlement. Equally, because the narrative is divided into temporal phases, the changing aspects of depositional practice in the long term are emphasised. Chapter 8 broadens the scope of investigation considerably, addressing the character and temporality of deposition within monuments, artefact scatters and flint mines. The study concludes with Chapter 9, which addresses the changing character of landscape occupation, deposition and place in East Anglia throughout the course of the Neolithic and EBA.

Figure 1.1. Location map of East Anglia

1.2. Temporal scale The definition of the study’s temporal scale – Neolithic to EBA – was in some ways less arbitrary than that of the spatial scale. My intention was always to address the practice of deposition within pits over a long timescale. As Thomas has noted, pit-digging was largely a “temporally bounded” phenomenon (1999a, 69). The beginning of the Neolithic is the time when pits – along with other earthworks – appear for the first time in large numbers. Although some Mesolithic pits are known (e.g. Clark & Rankine 1939; Wymer 1996, Chapter 4; Allen & Gardiner 2002; Ellaby 2004), these are rare and their dating often remains uncertain.

2

2. PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION: PAST INTERPRETATIONS

Chapter 2. Pits, settlement and deposition: past interpretations “The human life of a country disappears to the exclusive benefit of its monuments” (Barthes 2000 [1957], 74).

Longworth et al. 1971) or Hurst Fen (Clark et al. 1960) for example – pits were found only as an inadvertent consequence of the excavation of other sites (which in the case of the Neolithic/EBA essentially meant monuments).

“They are just inscrutable pits” (Rowley-Conwy 2003, 124).

Over the past fifteen years, however, the massive-scale excavations and effectively random sampling strategies of developer-funded archaeology (dictated by development rather than research needs) have resulted in the discovery of many pits in an otherwise empty archaeological landscape. Consequently, there has been a realisation that these features should not just be seen as an adjunct to monuments, but as an important aspect of the Neolithic/EBA in their own right. Almost certainly as a direct consequence of this realisation, there has in recent years been an increased willingness – on the part of some writers at least – to incorporate pit sites and artefact scatters into their accounts of the period (e.g. Edmonds 1999; Pollard 1999; Thomas 1999a), moving discussion on from the almost entirely monument-dominated discourse of the 1980s and early 1990s (e.g. Shanks & Tilley 1982; Richards 1993; Barrett 1994; Tilley 1994; see also Brück 2001).

2.1. Introduction Although Barthes was actually writing about Blue Guides to travel around Europe, he could well have been describing any one of many past descriptions of the Neolithic and EBA in Britain. The very fact that long barrows, causewayed enclosures, henges, stone circles, round barrows and other monuments are often readily visible in the present has ensured that, since Stukeley’s investigations of Avebury, through Pitt-Rivers’ excavations at Wor Barrow and Keiller’s at Windmill Hill, to ongoing excavations at Durrington Walls, monuments have received most of our archaeological attention. This concentration on monuments in excavation has often led to an equivalent emphasis on monuments in interpretation; they have tended to represent the primary, and in some cases the only, focus of archaeological accounts of the period. With the exception of one-off discussions of individual sites (e.g. Warren et al. 1936; Clark et al. 1960), and a brief period during the 1930s when ‘settlement archaeology’ became a concern as a result of discoveries in continental Europe (Last 1996, 27), monuments have until very recently dominated discussion.

The ways in which the study presented here hopes to take our understanding of pits, settlement and deposition further are considered at the end of this chapter (throughout this study, the term ‘settlement’ is used interchangeably with ‘occupation’; as discussions in subsequent chapters make clear, in using it I am not implying that sites were necessarily ‘settled’ in any permanent sense). The preceding sections investigate the different ways in which these subjects have been dealt with throughout the history of archaeological research. The origins of current approaches lie primarily in work carried out since the 1980s. Consequently, developments over the past twenty-five years or so are considered in more detail than those of the previous century.

This ‘Blue Guide’ approach to the Neolithic and EBA can actually be viewed in certain respects as entirely appropriate. It does, to an extent, reflect the ‘reality’ of the past: the particular character of that period in Britain ensured that, in many places, those sites were its most prominent archaeological ‘signature’. With notable exceptions such as Orkney and Ireland, the settlement evidence might well be described as “rather intractable” (Pollard 1999, 90). There are, nevertheless, fundamental problems associated with this kind of account. As Pollard puts it, “the high archaeological visibility of monuments and of the practices that produced and sustained them has contributed to an archaeology where it would seem that structures of symbolic order and relations of power were constructed in arenas of practice divorced from the everyday routines of the living” (ibid.). Although in recent years the opposition between ‘ritual’ and ‘secular’ sites has been called into question (e.g. Brück 1999a) and the boundary between ‘monuments’ and ‘settlement’ has been blurred (e.g. Edmonds 1993, 129; McFadyen 2003), it can certainly be argued that there is still considerable scope for contexts other than monuments to be considered.

2.2. Interpretations ‘Pit dwellings’, ‘villages’ and grain storage: the late 19th century to the 1970s The issues with which we are concerned here were not discussed in detail by earlier archaeologists such as Aubrey or Stukeley. Pitt Rivers, however, certainly commented on the character of prehistoric settlement, reportedly remarking that because “our knowledge of prehistoric and early people is derived chiefly from their funerary deposits … they might as well have been born dead” (quoted in Darvill 1996, 77). Having found numerous examples, on sites of many different dates across his land, he clearly had also thought about pits. He is reported to have suggested that Iron Age pits would have been used to store grain decades before Bersu made the same observation (Bowden 1991, 157), and certainly discussed the finding of many “depressions” which “have either been pit-dwellings or dug for chalk for agricultural purposes” (Pitt Rivers 1898, 43). However, despite noticing

The shift in the archaeological horizon brought about by the introduction of PPG16 in 1990 has ensured that now, far more than ever before, we are in a position to discuss nonmonumental sites in detail. Prior to 1990, sites were excavated primarily because they were already known about (e.g. Wainwright 1972). As a result, other than in exceptional circumstances – at Lion Point, Clacton (Warren et al. 1936; 3

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION them during the excavation process, Pitt Rivers often chose to ignore them in his final publication reports (Bowden 1991, 130). At that time, excavators were grappling with their understanding of even major sites, and fieldwork methods and chronologies were just being established (Lucas 2001, Chapter 2). In a context where typologies linked to stratigraphic sequences were all important, given the nature of their fills and the common lack of ‘key’ artefacts within them, Neolithic and EBA pits could hardly play a central role, and it was easy for them to be left out of the story altogether.

lived: “what primitive man has proved himself tidy enough to dig carefully made circular holes in the chalk for the purpose of burying his kitchen refuse?” (J. Stone n.d., quoted in Pollard 1993, 9).

The early decades of the 20th century were characterised by a ready admittance that the character of Neolithic/EBA settlement was not well understood. Interpretations of pits in particular were generally similar to those put forward by Pitt Rivers. Wyman Abbot, in describing a number of pits found in Peterborough, interpreted the larger ones as “dwellings” and the smaller ones as “store pits” (Wyman Abbot 1910, 334; Figure 2.1). This group of features, which importantly had not been found in the shadow of a large monument or impressive settlement, required discussion in their own right; they were interpreted as “an early settlement” (ibid., 333). Two years later, Cunnington wrote of a number of pits containing Neolithic pottery found on Knap Hill (Cunnington 1912, 53). With larger and more impressive archaeology to deal with (the pits were found alongside the causewayed enclosure), she glossed over their purpose offering no specific interpretation (although, unlike Pitt Rivers, she did include them in her final report).

Figure 2.2. Pits at Woodlands, near Woodhenge (Stone & Young 1948, Fig. 1)

A few years later, Stone and Young were confronted by two such circular holes in a garden, 300 yards from Woodhenge (Figure 2.2). None of the possible alternatives put forward by Warren et al. appeared to suit the pair of isolated pits, which contained unused axes, arrowheads, bone pins, Grooved Ware pottery and much more besides: “their use must be susceptible of interpretations other than of mere refuse pits” (Stone & Young 1948, 302). Forced to come up with a context-specific interpretation, the authors had to be inventive. Aided by the pits’ proximity to such an important monument, they concluded that “possibly we have the remains of sacred feasts held in the enclosure and considered in consequence too hallowed for normal disposal and demanding special ritual burial” (ibid., 305). During the 1940s and 50s, general narratives of the period became more prevalent. Within these broad-brush tours through British prehistory, there was usually only room for the ‘grand’ sites. As a result, pits were all but ignored. In Prehistoric Communities of the British Isles, Childe focused heavily on causewayed enclosures in any discussion of Neolithic settlement, mentioning ‘pit-dwellings’ only in passing (Childe 1940, 81). He also put forward the idea that EBA settlement may have been characterised by nomadic pastoralism (ibid., 98). In Neolithic Cultures of the British Isles, Piggott mentioned ‘huts’ and ‘habitation sites’ (1954, 35) but did not problematise the existence of pits in the archaeological record, again focusing primarily on causewayed enclosures, which he assumed to have been seasonally occupied ‘camps’ (see also Curwen 1938, 37; Oswald et al., Ch. 2). At the time these accounts were written, there was certainly an assumption that people would have lived in permanent villages. However, because only a small number of sites of any description had been excavated, the fact that very few such villages had been found simply was not seen as a problem (e.g. Hawkes & Hawkes 1947, 30; Piggott 1954, 17).

Figure 2.1 Section drawing of two pits at Fengate (Wyman Abbot 1910, Fig. 1)

During the 1920s and 1930s, despite a perceived lack of evidence, interest in settlement archaeology increased significantly, primarily as a result of the discovery of impressive LBK sites in Europe (Evans 1989, 438-9; Last 1996, 27). Fox pointed out that despite the ‘hut sites’ and ‘refuse pits’ found in Peterborough “our knowledge of the actual sites where Neolithic man dwelt is scanty” (Fox 1923, 8), while Clark described “the situation in England with regard to houses of pre-Early Iron Age date” as “frankly deplorable” (Clark 1937, 469). Hawkes pursued a similar theme in his speech to the Institute of Archaeology in 1937, stressing the need to find more ‘camps or habitations’ (Hawkes 1937, 56). When Warren et al. reported on the foreshore site at Clacton, they were able to posit four types of Neolithic settlement: ‘surface occupation or camp sites’, ‘pitdwellings’, ‘cooking holes’ and ‘hearth sites’ (Warren et al. 1936). The majority of reports nevertheless still appear to have focused mostly on ‘pit-dwelling’ sites (e.g. Curwen 1934; Stone 1934 a & b; Calkin & Piggott 1938) which sat comfortably with social-evolutionary notions of how people 4

2. PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION: PAST INTERPRETATIONS Throughout the 1960s, a suite of assumptions linking ‘the Neolithic’ with a ‘package’ of full-scale mixed farming, pottery production, ground and polished stone tool technologies and permanent settlement continued to underlie most interpretations (see Thomas 1993; 1999a). Excavations at Hurst Fen in Suffolk (Clark et al. 1960), for example, aimed to recover the long-awaited ‘Neolithic settlement’ including “huts or houses” (ibid., 205), which it was presumed had to be associated with the large quantities of pottery and flint found in the topsoil. Although two hundred Earlier Neolithic pits were excavated (Figure 2.3), along with a (possibly later) ditch, none of the expected structures were there. Their total absence, although clearly disappointing to the excavators, was not seen as particularly problematic, being explained away as a consequence either of turf or sleeper beam construction techniques, or of the fact that people lived in temporary tents (ibid.).

as pot stands, as cooking holes or quarries (Houlder 1963). Field et al. promptly dismissed his speculations, choosing to follow Clark et al. in viewing pits as grain storage facilities (Field et al. 1964). They took the argument a stage further, however, relating the geographical distribution of pits to a proposed agrarian economy of lowland England. The excavation of Broome Heath in Norfolk (Wainwright 1972) added weight to the grain storage argument, producing evidence for ‘wooden boxes’ in some of the pits. Interestingly, Field et al. also entertained the possibility that pits may have had a non-utilitarian function, but in the end concluded that “they can reasonably be interpreted as connected with domestic rather that ritual activities” (1964, 369). Case also explored the ritual aspects of pits in his imaginative interpretation of the site at Goodland in Northern Ireland, suggesting that they were associated with “sympathetic magic” (1973, 193). The inextricable link between ‘the Neolithic’ and permanent settlement remained prevalent throughout the 1970s and into the 1980s. As late as 1988, Holgate was able to argue that “present knowledge of Neolithic domestic sites … would suggest that these consisted of one or more timber houses” (1988, 104). Following a line of thought which had been current throughout the previous decade (e.g. Simpson 1971; Megaw & Simpson 1979, 86), he argued that few sites had been found only on account of post-depositional factors (e.g. plough damage, solution, hillwash and soil creep), remaining confident that once we looked in protected environments under alluvium and colluvium the elusive sites were bound to turn up (Holgate 1988, 105). ‘Structured deposition’ and impermanent settlement: the 1980s onwards

Figure 2.3. ‘Storage’ pits at Hurst Fen (Clark et al. 1960, Plate 22)

The origins of approaches to pits, settlement and deposition current today lie primarily in work carried out since the 1980s. Discussions of deposition in particular can be traced back to the early 1980s, whilst explicit consideration of the character of settlement has taken place predominantly since the late 1990s. These discussions have been conducted primarily, but by no means exclusively, in relation to Neolithic rather than EBA discourse (an imbalance necessarily reflected below). For the purposes of this study, the two subjects – deposition and settlement – are discussed in separate sections. It will become clear, however, that these topics often overlap significantly, especially within discussions of pits.

The excavation and publication of Hurst Fen did nevertheless change the way that pits were approached. For the first time, a major site containing pits alone had been found. Confronted by such an impressive number, the excavators were forced to think about exactly what those pits might have been for. Through comparison with similar, basket-lined pits in Egypt, and no doubt also influenced by understandings of the Iron Age, they reached the conclusion that the features at Hurst Fen were “best interpreted as storage pits” (ibid., 211). The material within them was of secondary importance, seen as rubbish simply filling convenient hollows. While finds clearly were recorded contextually in the field (ibid., 244), that information has since been lost. Any specific understanding of the pits, at the feature or site level, was totally overshadowed by the role they were seen to play within the bigger picture, as evidence of an arable economy and of ‘settlement’ in general.

Deposition Serious, detailed consideration was first given to Neolithic deposition as a practice in the context of the emerging postprocessual discourse of the early 1980s. At that time, issues of ideology, symbolic meaning, ritual, and the active role of material culture were at the forefront of discussion. Two key pieces of ethnoarchaeological fieldwork emphasised that ideological structures could be seen in the material ‘record’ of the present (Hodder 1982, Moore 1982). Shanks and

The discovery of Hurst Fen sparked a discussion on the nature of Neolithic pits that was to continue for a number of years. Houlder widened the debate, in relation to his site at Hazard Hill in Devon, suggesting an array of other functional possibilities, including their use for food and water storage, 5

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION Tilley’s paper, Ideology, symbolic power and ritual communication (1982), represents the first time that similar issues concerning deposition were explored in relation to the material record of the past; they discussed in detail how the deposition of human bones in long barrows may have served – at different levels – both to reaffirm and to misrepresent the social order during the Neolithic.

Deposits described variously as ‘non-domestic’, ‘unusual’, ‘symbolic’ or ‘placed’ were identified in a variety of contexts (e.g. Whittle 1985, 220; Evans 1988, 89; Pryor 1988, 144). Bradley’s 1990 book, The Passage of Arms, which focused primarily on the deposition of Later Bronze Age metalwork, certainly placed deposition firmly at the centre of British prehistory as a whole.

What has proved to be probably the most influential piece of work on Neolithic deposition was published two years later (Richards & Thomas 1984). The paper, Ritual activity and structured deposition in Later Neolithic Wessex, was explicitly concerned with facilitating “a systematic approach to ritual, which is specific to archaeology itself and allows the examination of both symbolism and structure as embodied in material culture and its deposition” (ibid., 190). The authors carried out a detailed analysis of depositional patterning within the Durrington Walls henge monument (Figure 2.4). Those deposits were said to be ‘structured’ in an archaeologically recognisable way because they had been produced as part of the “highly formalised, repetitive behaviour” associated with ritual (ibid., 191). Material culture, and Grooved Ware pottery in particular, it was argued, had been deposited in a way which conveyed complex ideas through “specific sequences and rules applied to the contexts and associations of different objects” (ibid., 192).

Figure 2.4. Structured deposition at Durrington Walls (Richards & Thomas 1984, Fig. 5)

A year later, Thomas’s book Rethinking the Neolithic (1991) moved discussion of Neolithic deposition on significantly. He devoted a whole chapter to what was termed ‘a genealogy of depositional practices’, addressing the “general failure to treat deposition as a cultural practice in itself” (ibid., 56). He discussed deposits across a wide range of contexts, placing deposition at the centre of what it was to ‘be’ Neolithic. In doing so, he made a convincing case that Neolithic pits were not comparable with Iron Age pits in their ability to store grain, dismissing very successfully the consensus that had been reached over the previous thirty years: “the pit-digging of the Neolithic seems to relate to a quite different set of preoccupations … which also involved the placing of objects in the earth” (ibid., 63). As a result of this recognition that deposition as a practice was important, he put forward a suggestion of fundamental relevance to the study presented here: that pits were dug “specifically for the burial of particular materials, and backfilled immediately afterwards” (ibid., 75). In order to strengthen his argument, he focused heavily on “a range of deposited artefacts which would seem to be out of character for everyday household waste” (ibid., 60) such as complete polished axes, maceheads, chalk plaques and human bones, neglecting less impressive deposits to a degree.

With hindsight, and over two decades of interpretive development behind us, the paper might be criticised for artificially separating ‘ritual’ from other aspects of life and for assuming a very direct relationship between material patterning and intentionally constructed symbolic meanings. However, Richards and Thomas’s work – and particularly the term ‘structured deposition’ – has had a lasting effect for very good reasons. Perhaps most important of all, they focused on ‘rubbish’ during the Neolithic and made it of fundamental relevance to our interpretations. In doing so, they also made the crucial point that the act of deposition itself may have been a very important aspect of life at that time. In the same year, Cleal published a paper on The Later Neolithic in Eastern England (1984). As part of this work, she developed the idea that certain flint artefacts were disproportionately represented in Grooved Ware pits, and therefore may have been selected for deposition (ibid., 84) – a line of argument taken up many times in subsequent work. Consequently, ‘structured deposition’ was shown to exist not only in impressive monumental contexts such as Durrington Walls, but on much smaller scale, potentially ‘domestic’ sites. Four years later, Healy addressed similar issues in relation to several clusters of Earlier Neolithic pits at Spong Hill (1988). In that case, however, there was no evidence of selection. As a result, she considered in detail the other mechanisms by which artefacts may have come to be deposited in pits (ibid., 108-110), focusing predominantly on the redeposition of midden material – another theme which was to be taken up many times in later work. Throughout the late 1980s, particularly as a result of Richards & Thomas’s paper, deposition became an important subject for debate.

Pollard’s PhD thesis Traditions of deposition in the Neolithic of Wessex (1993; see also 1992; 1995) followed on directly from Thomas’s study in stressing that “deposition as an activity … in many ways stands at the heart of what the Neolithic was all about” (1993, 268). His work represented the first exhaustive study of deposition across a wide range of contexts within two given areas: the Avebury and Stonehenge regions. Pollard outlined the aims of his work explicitly: “this thesis sets out to demonstrate intentional selection, and spatial and associational patterning in the past 6

2. PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION: PAST INTERPRETATIONS deposition of artefactual, faunal and human remains in the British Neolithic” (ibid., introductory summary). In doing so, he very much built on the work of Richards and Thomas, viewing depositional patterning within monuments as “a process through which a variety of connotations and symbolic references were incorporated” (1995, 137). In seeking to “demonstrate intentional selection”, it might be argued that he, like Thomas, placed a disproportionate emphasis on deposits of ‘unusual’ items (ibid., Section 3.6) at the expense of less impressive pits and their more ‘ordinary’ contents. However, having studied material from a much broader range of contexts, including many pit sites, he was able to add considerable weight to Thomas’s suggestion (1991, 76) that there was “increasing formality in depositional practice from the earliest to the latest Neolithic” (Pollard 1993, 246).

pages of text to them; it also mentions some of the famous East Anglian pit sites (ibid., 72), which had not previously been included at all. The late 1990s and early 2000s saw a flurry of papers considering deposition, pits and settlement together (e.g. Edmonds 1999; Pollard 1999; Whittle 1999). This series of publications grounded pits firmly at the centre of debate. A predominant focus within that work, following Thomas 1996a, was the effect that pit-digging would have had in relation to the places where it was carried out: it was argued that, through pits, people would have changed the nature of the space in which they dug them, adding to it both physically and metaphorically. Both the physical presence of pits (in the short term), and the memory of their digging and filling (in the longer term), would have served to remind people of their ties to a place, of its history (Thomas 2000, 79). While various ‘archaeological’ traces of occupation would always have been visible to people on returning to particular places (Simmons 1993, 118; Edmonds 1997, 101; Bradley 2000), the purposeful and performative burial of occupation debris in the ground (usually assumed to have been taken from a midden) represents a much more active mechanism of ‘fixing’ those traces of the past, for the future, in a particular place.

JD Hill’s PhD thesis, Ritual and rubbish in the Iron Age of Wessex (1993; published as Hill 1995) broke new ground by taking many of the arguments described above into the Iron Age. As a result, issues surrounding deposition (in this case especially within pits) were placed even more firmly at the centre of British later prehistory. In some ways, the importance of Hill’s work for Neolithic and EBA studies lies in the fact that he made explicit a number of points which had previously been left largely implicit. These included questioning any necessary, straightforward link between ‘structured deposition’ and ‘ritual’ (Hill 1995, 95) and asserting that, once we appreciate that cultural beliefs affect the way in which material is deposited, Hawke’s ‘ladder of inference’ (Hawkes 1954) should actually be turned upside down: in order to understand the technological and economic aspects of life, we must first understand social relations and ideology (Hill 1995, 96, following Hodder 1986, 33).

Most writers suggested that the filling of pits would have taken place at the end of relatively short-term visits. Pollard wrote that the act of abandoning a settlement “was probably perceived as threatening to the social order and in need of mediation through ritual practice”, arguing that “pit deposits may have served to counter this” (1999, 89). Edmonds suggested a crop-related metaphor: “created as people left for a season, the filling of pits, like the planting of crops, offered the hope of renewal, regeneration and return” (1999, 29). Gibson offered a similar explanation: “by ‘planting’ small amounts of the earth’s produce (flint for tools, clay for pottery, organic material and food remains) one might be returning to the earth materials and produce that have been provided by the earth in attempt to ensure perpetual fecundity” (2003, 141). A strong connection between pits and mobile, temporary occupation practices runs through these arguments; essentially, they have only become a possibility since Neolithic settlement was seen to be impermanent (see below). The desire to alter a place physically, to secrete material culture within it, and to create a memory of this practice, has been viewed as intimately related to the fact that people had to leave.

Thomas’s next book, Time, Culture and Identity (1996a), represented another key turning point in terms of how deposition is understood. In focusing on the body’s engagement with the world, and the experience of dwelling, he moved theoretical debate on from a predominant focus on the ideological and symbolic motivations behind deposition, to a consideration of the effects it would have had, in terms of how people related to place and to the material world in general. As Thomas put it, “ways of engaging in the world are not simply stored ‘in the head’: they are immanent in the relationship between people and things” (ibid., 20). Following on from his earlier work, and that of others (e.g. Bradley 1993b; Tilley 1994), he explored the consequences that the physical alteration of the earth would have had on people’s perception of place. Importantly, however, he situated deposition directly within that discourse: “in the course of their ‘lives’, objects might move through a range of places, building up a history as they went. This history, a rich set of connotations, would be brought to bear on the place of deposition” (Thomas 1996a, 166). He also discussed the performative aspects of deposition for the first time (ibid., 169). Thomas subsequently included many of these arguments within his revised and updated version of Rethinking the Neolithic (1991), entitled Understanding the Neolithic (1999a). Consequently, the 1999 edition considers pits in much more detail, devoting almost twice as many

Given the character of the evidence, it has proved a very difficult task to try to understand the ‘meaning’ of pits in any real sense, especially as those ‘meanings’ are likely to have been extremely varied and context-dependant (Thomas 1999a, 69; Pollard 2001, 322). As a result, approaches which avoided discussion as to what pits may have meant to people, choosing instead to focus on the effect they would have had – on those digging them, and in terms of perceptions of the places in which they were dug – have arguably been more attractive.

7

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION case of Windmill Hill, this distributional patterning proved difficult to interpret, given the problems of palimpsest (ibid., 371) and the authors’ understandable reluctance to take a 1980s approach and view the material as a symbolic text reflecting underlying structures of meaning (ibid., 356). Consequently, the interpretation of those patterns was left somewhat vague: “meanings were created, remembered, reworked, perhaps contested, and kept alive but also altered by repetition” (ibid., 381). In 2000, over the course of a book and an additional paper, Chapman took the debate about deposition in a very different direction (geographically and theoretically), developing his concepts of fragmentation, accumulation and enchainment in the context of south-eastern Europe (2000a; 2000b). Chapman might be criticised for his sometimes rather straightforward approach to site formation processes (e.g. 2000a, 58), and often very direct application of ethnographic models to understand archaeological evidence (e.g. ibid., 180-182). Nevertheless, he did touch on a number of very important issues, which previously had not been discussed explicitly: namely why things get broken at all, what happens to the parts of objects that do not get deposited, why certain places come to witness significant acts of deposition, and how people and objects can become metaphorically intertwined. Since Pollard’s 2002 paper, The nature of archaeological deposits and finds assemblages, explicit discussions of deposition have become rather less common, as issues such as personhood (Whittle 2003; Fowler 2004) and landscape experience (Cummings 2003; Edmonds 2004) have come to the fore.

Figure 2.5. ‘Deposition as artwork’ Grooved Ware pits from Over, Cambridgeshire (Pollard 2001, Plate 1; photo by M. Knight)

The performative and aesthetic aspects of deposition have also been explored in recent years (Thomas 1999a and b; Pollard 2001; see also Cooper et al. 2004). As part of this move, there has been a growing interest in the more esoteric aspects of deposition: “while the practices concerned might constitute a recognisable tradition, they appear not to have been bound by a strict set of rules”, but were instead “improvised, in the context of local conditions” (Thomas 1999a, 69). Pollard focused even more closely on pits’ aesthetic aspects, suggesting that “in a post-Duchampian tradition they could even be seen as artworks” (2001, 315; Figure 2.5). These approaches have arguably been particularly successful because they have focused on individual acts of deposition, and the intimacy and creativity involved in placing certain items in the ground, what Thomas described as “creative play or bricolage” (1999a, 80).

Settlement In contrast to the idea of deposition as a meaningful practice, the issue of Neolithic and EBA settlement is one which has been considered since the concepts of the Neolithic and Bronze Ages themselves were first created. As discussed above, until the 1980s, interpretations varied between a ready admittance that the character of settlement was poorly understood (e.g. Fox 1923; Smith 1971), and, conversely, the assumption of a fairly direct link between ‘the Neolithic’ as a concept and the introduction of permanent, village-like settlements (e.g. Clark et al. 1960; Holgate 1988), which it was assumed were either completely archaeologically invisible, or had been hidden as a result of post-depositional factors.

In addition to this work focusing primarily on pits, the late 1990s also witnessed the publication of two recentlyexcavated causewayed enclosures, at Etton (Pryor 1998) and Windmill Hill (Whittle et al. 1999). Each report dealt in substantial detail with the character of deposition. Interestingly, the conclusions reached were closely comparable. Both emphasised very strongly that the material within ditch segments had been intentionally placed rather than casually discarded (e.g. Pryor 1998, 67; Whittle et al. 1999, 358), a distinction which may not have been as important in the past. Similarly, both emphasised differences in the character of deposition across each site as a whole – at Etton between different halves of the single circuit (Pryor 1998, 66), and at Windmill Hill between the inner, middle and outer circuits (Whittle et al. 1999, 382). Especially in the

The arguments set out by Thomas in Rethinking the Neolithic (1991) certainly challenged the latter side of this uneasy balance. He questioned what was described, following Bradley, as ‘the archaeology of Mr Micawber’ – the faith that in time ‘something will turn up’ (ibid., 8) – arguing that we should in fact have confidence in the material record, viewing the absence of obvious houses, etc. as positive evidence for mobile occupation practices (ibid., 28). In a perhaps necessarily polemical, and certainly very effective, critique of traditional approaches, he went on to state that “the population of Neolithic Britain did not live in major timber-framed buildings, quite probably did not reside in the 8

2. PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION: PAST INTERPRETATIONS same place all year round, did not go out to labour in great walled fields of waving corn, were not smitten by overpopulation or soil decline, and much of their day-to-day food may have been provided by wild crops” (ibid., 28). Following Edmonds (1987), Thomas suggested (on the basis of the size and the locations of flint scatters) that the Earlier Neolithic may have been characterised by “regular, largescale, planned movements of population, perhaps on a seasonal basis”; during the Later Neolithic, these may have been “replaced by a pattern in which the residential focus was even less fixed” (1991, 19). Echoing the likes of Fox (1923), however, he argued that “a proper understanding of … residential practices in Neolithic Britain is far from complete” (ibid., 27).

alternatives, from “circulating mobility” to “short-term sedentism”, he concluded that the most likely scenario would have been a combination of them all (ibid., 21). This fluid and somewhat vague (though not necessarily inaccurate) description of Neolithic and EBA settlement patterns was echoed to a significant extent in several papers over the next few years. Edmonds emphasised that a number of different scales of occupation may have existed, with “short term camps for a handful of people; settlements occupied by an extended family; and places where families gathered, perhaps for a season, perhaps for a generation or more” (1997, 104). Similarly, Pollard suggested that “the rhythm of occupation would have involved periodic clearance, settling down for a few years or so, followed by abandonment and movement to another locale” (2000, 364). Pits were often drawn into these discussions, their ephemeral archaeological character being equated with ephemeral occupation (e.g. Edmonds 1999, 19; Whittle 1999, 64). In relation to the character of EBA settlement, Brück argued that the picture was essentially very similar to the Neolithic, suggesting that an absence of archaeologically visible houses should be taken as evidence for relatively mobile settlement practices (1997; 1999b, 68). In Understanding the Neolithic (1999a), however, Thomas placed slightly less emphasis than he had done before on entirely non-permanent settlement, suggesting that “at some points … particular communities may have lived in substantial timber houses”, and stressing the importance of regional differences (ibid., 33). Interestingly, while in this context he chose to omit the polemical sentence quoted above (1991, 28), he (quite rightly) maintained the one which stated that “a proper understanding of … residential practices in Neolithic Britain is far from complete” (1999a, 32).

Over the next few years, little consideration was given to settlement, as discourse came to be dominated to an even greater extent by monuments (e.g. Richards 1993; Tilley 1994). In Fragments from Antiquity (1994), a book also largely dominated by monuments, Barrett nevertheless did discuss the possibility that the Neolithic/EBA was characterised by a system of ‘long-fallow’ agriculture, associated with settlement mobility and a communal sense of tenure over land (1994, 143-5). With the publication of Neolithic houses in north-west Europe and beyond (Darvill & Thomas 1996), direct interest in the character of settlement was rekindled. Papers by both editors considered the British evidence in detail. Interestingly, each interpreted essentially the same dataset very differently, in the process establishing a polarised debate which has continued to the present day. Having undertaken an extensive survey of all known ‘buildings’ in England, Wales and the Isle of Man (some of which it must be said were extremely questionable), Darvill argued that Neolithic structures “are more numerous and widespread than commonly believed” (ibid., 79). Thomas took a much more “sceptical view” (the subtitle of his paper), arguing that evidence for the existence of permanent domestic structures in Neolithic Britain is “scanty” (ibid., 1). He suggested that this was “not merely an accident of preservation, but that in some regions, for a number of reasons the majority of the population lived for most of the time in rather flimsy or temporary dwellings” (ibid., 2). He also made the crucial point that, from the middle Bronze Age onwards, evidence of post-built houses, fields and other settlement features does survive, pointing out that if similar sites had existed during the Neolithic, there is no good reason why they should be so much less visible (ibid., 3). Developing the model he had put forward in earlier work, instead of permanent settlement he suggested “a seasonal pattern of fission and fusion, dispersal and aggregation, in which particular segments of communities, perhaps defined by age and gender criteria, were engaged in particular tasks at particular times of the year” (ibid., 4).

It is important to note that the environmental evidence does seem to support these approaches stressing mobility fairly well. In terms of soil erosion, anthropogenic factors seem to have had no significant effect until the Late Bronze Age (Waller 1994, 107; Macklin 2005), suggesting that during the Neolithic and EBA only limited areas were cleared for crop growth. Palynological work has indicated a pattern of landscape use involving generally small-scale clearances rather than the widespread creation of arable fields (Bennett 1983; Sims 1983; Smith et al. 1989; Evans et al. 1993; Brown 1997). It is usually assumed that crops would have been grown within these clearings, whilst new growth around the edges would have provided a good source of leaf fodder for animals (Robinson 2000). Where more detailed diachronic studies have been undertaken, the evidence suggests that clearings may often have been subject to a limited degree of woodland regeneration, before subsequently being cleared again (Tomalin & Scaife 1980). In the longer term, it seems that no single, uniform trajectory is applicable across Britain as a whole: while many areas may have become increasingly open over the course of the Neolithic (Thomas 1999a, 23), in other places substantial forest regeneration appears to have taken place (Tomalin & Scaife 1980, 32).

A year later, Whittle’s paper Moving on and moving around (1997) explored the many possible options for nonpermanent settlement in detail. He dismissed the idea of permanent settlement even more vigorously than Thomas: “the sedentary model has been challenged head-on at a general level, and can hardly any longer be justified by the evidence” (ibid., 19). Discussing a range of possible

Alongside this support for interpretations focusing on impermanent settlement, it is important to highlight a number of papers critiquing what has been described as “the new 9

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION mobility ‘orthodoxy’” (Cooney 1997, 24). Cooney (1997; 2001; 2003) and Barclay (2000) in particular have strongly criticised the way in which “a model of settlement in the Neolithic based on the evidence of one region … has been extended to cover the whole of Britain and Ireland, apparently without regard to the evidence elsewhere” (Barclay 2000, 281). It is certainly true that most of the models above did deal primarily with evidence from southern Britain. It might also be argued that, while the possibility of regional variability had occasionally been highlighted (e.g. Bradley 1992; Thomas 1999a, 33), more emphasis could and should have been placed on geographical differences. The importance of regionally specific approaches has been emphasised even more over the past few years: in addition to the impressive buildings known about for a long time in Orkney and Shetland, more and more structures have been found in Ireland (e.g. Grogan 2002; papers in Armit et al. 2003), and occasionally other places such as Kent as well (e.g. Oxford Archaeological Unit 2000).

2.3. Summary Having outlined the historical context of this study, it is important now to consider how, from this position, our understanding of pits, settlement and deposition might be taken further. Let us consider each of the three issues in turn. Pits themselves, especially over the past fifteen years, have come to play a much more important role in discourse concerned with the Neolithic and EBA. They are now seen by many as an important aspect of life at that time, and it has become difficult to discuss either settlement or deposition – and even the Neolithic and EBA in general – without them. Within previous studies of pits, however, there has been a tendency for discussion either to operate at a fairly abstract level (considering ‘pits’ in general), or to focus on specific individual sites or features, such as the Coneybury Anomaly (Richards 1990) or the Grooved Ware pits near Woodhenge (Stone & Young 1948), which have suited particular arguments being made at the time. A wide-ranging study of every different type of site within a given region has yet to be undertaken. Similarly, it has also been the case that, with a very few exceptions, pits have been considered only as part of separate discussions, of ‘settlement’ or ‘deposition’ for example. The intention here is to reverse that dynamic – to look first and foremost at pits, and then, from a position of understanding them well, to move on to consider what they can tell us about other issues.

In recent years, in addition to these cogently-argued and well-reasoned critiques stressing the importance of a richly textured, regional approach to ‘Neolithic settlement’, there has also been an arguably less reasoned, and certainly less regionally specific, backlash against settlement mobility (Rowley-Conwy 2003; 2004; Sheridan 2004). RowleyConwy in particular has sought to revive a model of ‘the Neolithic’ as “fully sedentary” (2004, 83) across north-west Europe as a whole: “settlement was stable and permanent, individual agricultural settlements being occupied for periods of at least decades” (2003, 115). Helped by the inclusion of evidence across a very large study area, he argues that, in fact, numerous houses have been found (2004, 93), that the arrival of crops would have necessitated essentially permanent settlements (2003, 115), and that the role of ‘Mesolithic’ populations in the adoption of farming would have been negligible: “agriculture was an economic juggernaut moving fitfully across Europe and overwhelming previous ways of life” (2004, 97).

Pits are now viewed as part of a much wider tradition of deposition during the Neolithic and EBA. However, very little attention has been given to the significance, or even the possibility, of variation between contexts within that overarching tradition, in terms of the ways in which material was deposited. Similarly, while it has been suggested that deposits may have become more ‘complex’ or ‘formal’ during the Later Neolithic (Thomas 1991, 76; Pollard 1993, 246), there has been only inadvertent consideration of the broader context of that change. This study employs a deliberately long time-frame, in order to emphasise the dynamic and changeable aspects of deposition over the course of the Neolithic and EBA, mainly within one particular context (pits), but also between contexts (pits, monuments, artefact scatters and flint mines). It has also been the case that, in order to strengthen the argument that deposits within pits were important, there has been a tendency to focus on ‘special’ deposits. Here, the full spectrum of variability amongst the artefacts deposited within pits is considered, allowing detailed scrutiny of the role played by the act of deposition itself. As a consequence of the success of many of the arguments outlined in preceding sections, there has also been a willingness – not necessarily amongst the original protagonists, but in archaeological writing in a much wider sense – to view the recognition of ‘structured deposition’ as an interpretation in itself. Here, the act of deposition is taken as a starting point from which interpretations begin.

His argument, which at times comes across as rather polemical, might be criticised on a number of different levels: for assuming uniformity across a huge study area; for misrepresenting the arguments made by the ‘post-processual consensus’ he is discussing (suggesting for example that they sought to separate ideology and subsistence entirely (ibid., 83)); and for reviving since-dismissed 1970s assumptions, such as monument construction being “impossible without an agricultural population” (2004, 85), without any further evidence. In relation to settlement in particular, he certainly might be accused of pushing the evidence beyond its limits, arguing, for example, that structures in southern England are not rare at all (ibid., 93), a questionable statement to say the least once it is placed next to his own distribution plot (ibid., Figure 5). The differences between his position and that of those who are the objects of his criticism – in terms of the scale of analysis, the way in which evidence is treated, and the character of discourse – are so great, it is in some ways difficult for them to respond (see Jones 2004; Thomas 2004).

While an association between pits and settlement is now often assumed, the relationship between the two arguably has not been fully assessed. For example, the kinds of places in 10

2. PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION: PAST INTERPRETATIONS which pits were dug (in terms of their location within the landscape, geological settings, etc.) are not well understood. It might also be argued that a link between the often ephemeral archaeological signature that pits represent, and ephemeral occupation, has too easily been made. There has been little proper consideration of the scale, density and duration of occupation represented at pit sites. Similarly, approaches stressing variability in the permanency of settlement have usually been based on general impressions rather than on positive material evidence. In this study, the character of occupation is investigated directly through detailed consideration of the artefacts deposited in pits. In order to move debates about permanent/impermanent settlement on from the extremely polarised positions of

recent years, arguments must be constructed on the basis of firm material evidence, not just theoretical positions. In this light, it is also important – as stressed increasingly in recent years – to conduct research at a regional level: ‘Neolithic and EBA settlement’ was far from a uniform phenomenon. Ultimately, it is hoped that the more detailed understanding of pits, settlement and deposition which emerges from this study will serve to maintain the dynamic of the past decade or so, showing that pit sites deserve perhaps an even more prominent position in our narratives of the Neolithic and EBA in Britain. They are far from being “just inscrutable pits” (Rowley-Conwy 2003, 124).

11

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

Chapter 3. Pit sites in East Anglia: a regional study 3.1. Introduction

SMRs. In other cases, records were associated with a fully published source (followed up later in the library), or simply a verbal report (in which case information was usually fairly limited).

This chapter aims to establish a basic understanding of the character of pit sites in East Anglia, upon which the entirety of this study can build. First and foremost, it sets out the fundamental parameters of investigation, by looking at how many sites have been found, where they have been found, and how many pits each produced. By investigating variability in the number of pits and number of sites through time, it aims to evaluate whether deposition in pits was more prevalent and/or more important in some phases than in others, emphasising the potentially changing character of pit digging as a tradition of practice, and providing important background information for the detailed, phase-based studies in Chapters 4-7. By investigating variability through space, the study also aims to assess how pits fitted into the wider physical and archaeological landscape. It is hoped that any patterns which emerge will provide important insight into the kinds of places (in terms of soil types, proximity to rivers, etc.) in which pits were dug, and how they related to other sites in terms of landscape occupation as a whole.

Source variability The large number of site reports examined (more than 200) varied enormously, both in terms of the amount of information that was provided, and the ways in which it was presented. The level of detail considered necessary within a report was not always compatible with the level required by this study, perhaps because the site had been dug a long time ago or, at the opposite extreme, because a further stage of more detailed ‘full publication’ was envisaged. Nevertheless, in the vast majority of cases, enough information was available to ensure that most sites could be included in the analysis at this primary stage. Due to the fact that ‘tree-throws’ occasionally seem to have fulfilled a similar role to pits during the Neolithic/EBA (Evans, Pollard & Knight 1999), ideally these features would have been included within the study as well. However, because these ‘natural’, often amorphous, features cannot be identified in the same way as pits within SMR databases, and are excavated and recorded in entirely different ways on different sites, it was not possible to include them fully. They are, however, brought into the discussion at several points below.

Methods While a completely exhaustive inventory was not the primary intention, every effort was made to identify as many pit sites as possible, in order to ensure that the insights drawn were based on as broad a range of information as possible. Although it is unlikely that every single pit excavated in East Anglia will have been included, it seems reasonable to expect that most of them have. The initial survey of sites was carried out in the summer of 2002; sites published since then will not have been included.

3.2. Analysis In order to gain insight into the fundamental character of pit sites through time, to evaluate how strong a feature of the Neolithic and EBA pits actually were, to assess whether deposition in pits was more prevalent in some phases than in others, and to investigate what kinds of places pits actually represent, the following key issues were addressed:

The main sources of information consulted were the Sites and Monuments Records (SMRs) in Cambridgeshire, Norfolk, Peterborough and Suffolk. The information contained within SMRs does not exist anywhere else in easily accessible form, with most sites (many excavated over the past fifteen years since the advent of developer-funded archaeology) unpublished or awaiting publication as ‘grey reports’. These searches therefore proved extremely valuable, producing the data for the vast majority of sites considered.

• • • •

A number of other sources were also consulted, as due to the slightly ad hoc compilation of information prior to the 1970s, gaps in SMRs do exist. The knowledge which I had gained from working in the region for several years, and from others who have worked there much longer, proved an invaluable starting point. Further to this, regional review articles (e.g. Bamford 1982; Cleal 1984; Healy 1984; 1988; 1995; Ashwin 1996a; Brown & Murphy 1997; 2000) and pottery-specific gazetteers (e.g. Clarke 1971; Wainwright and Longworth 1971; Gibson 1982; Cleal and MacSween 1999) were very helpful. Once a list of all known pit sites had been produced, the primary sources relating to each site were consulted. In the majority of cases, this was a Unit site report kept at the

total number of sites number of pits on each site geographical and topographical location of sites geological setting of sites

Site definition The primary unit of investigation at this stage was ‘the site’. The concept of ‘the site’ is a difficult one when dealing with Neolithic and EBA pits: beyond the level of the individual feature, they are not a naturally bounded phenomenon. Pits can be found in isolation hundreds of metres from the next contemporary feature, or in large agglomerations which often extend beyond the edge of excavated areas. Even on occasions where, at the local scale, a limit to their distribution is defined, the issue of palimpsest comes into 12

3. PIT SITES IN EAST ANGLIA: A REGIONAL STUDY play; the fact that features are grouped together spatially in the present does not necessarily imply that they were created close together temporally in the past.

especially, the problems of classifying very small sherds, and of residuality, must be considered): two examples were Grooved Ware with Beaker, the third Beaker with Collared Urn. Moreover, on sites where stratigraphic relationships between styles were discernible within individual features, the evidence also suggested succession rather than contemporaneity (e.g. Pryor 1998).

4th millennium BC

4000

Earlier Neolithic Earlier Neolithic Wares

While it is certainly possible to address issues of spatial and temporal resolution at a much more detailed scale (see Chapters 4 to 7), for the purposes of this regional analysis an essentially arbitrary limit on ‘site’ boundaries was set. All features from the same phase, which fell within 100m of each other, were treated as ‘a site’. While the distance of 100m is entirely arbitrary, this cut-off point at least enabled some degree of site definition. It also ensured that many features, which despite being separated by extremely large distances were discussed within a single report under a single site name (because they had been found within a single major excavation project), could be treated as separate entities. Where a gap of more than 100m existed between features, the two were entered as separate ‘sites’ within the database.

3800 3600 3400

3000

Later Neolithic

3rd millennium BC

Only a tiny proportion of the pits investigated within this study had been C14 dated, and so in order to approach issues of chronology it was necessary to rely on pottery typologies. Ceramic chronology during the Neolithic and EBA is not entirely straightforward, especially as the sequence of pottery types has undergone constant revision and occasional renaming (e.g. Herne 1988; Kinnes et al. 1991; Gibson & Kinnes 1997; Gibson 2002; Cleal 2004). Nevertheless, a number of overlapping, but essentially successive phases can be defined (see Figure 3.1). The first has simply been termed ‘Earlier Neolithic’, in response to the present uncertainty surrounding pottery categories during the earlier part of the fourth millennium BC (see Thomas 1999a, 98-101; Gibson 2002, 69-82; Cleal 2004); this group incorporated ‘Grimston’, ‘Mildenhall’, ‘Carinated Bowls’ and ‘Plain Bowl’ pottery. The subsequent phases were (2) Peterborough Ware, (3) Grooved Ware, (4) Beaker, (5) Collared Urn and (6) Food Vessel.

2800 2600 2400 2200

Grooved Ware

Chronological resolution

Peterborough Ware

3200

Early

1800 1600

Middle

Food Vessel

Age

Collared Urn

2nd mill. BC

2000

Beaker

Bronze

Bronze 1400

Age

Figure 3.1. Pottery chronology (dates taken from Gibson 2002)

Figure 3.1 shows very clearly that – across Britain as a whole – there is considerable overlap between pottery styles in terms of absolute dates. In the past, discussions have sometimes focused on that temporal overlap, suggesting that Grooved Ware and Beaker for example may have been associated with competing ideologies (e.g. Bradley 1984; Braithwaite 1984). Recently, however, there has been a move towards seeing the different styles as essentially successive: “it now seems likely that Peterborough Wares, Grooved Ware and Beaker each have distinct chronological ‘floruits’ with overlapping ‘tails’. As one tradition arose, another declined, perhaps over a period of several generations” (Thomas 1999a, 120).

Within this study, the different pottery styles are treated as essentially successive. This division of the past into successive pottery-based ‘stages’ should be viewed as a device employed to facilitate comparison of the different types and to allow general issues of chronology to be approached, rather than a strictly accurate representation of the past as it was played out historically. Although there may have been some temporal overlap between the types (even within a region as small as East Anglia), due to the fact that change through time is approached only at a very coarse scale (six phases over a period of approximately 2500 years), fluctuations caused by this overlap should not have skewed results too much; overall, the basic chronology does hold.

The argument against substantial contemporaneity of styles is certainly backed up by findings within this study. Despite the fact that many sites produced more than one type of pottery, at the level of the feature there was virtually no association between styles. Out of a total of 1556 pits, only three contained more than one type (in these contexts

It is important to consider the fact that, alongside these chronological differences, we may also be dealing with differences in terms of how different pottery styles were treated. The ways in which a particular type was perceived, 13

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION and therefore came to be used and deposited, may well have affected the character of pit sites during that ‘phase’ (see Chapter 5, for example).

Once these differences are considered through time, significant patterns emerge. It is important to note that it is possible to compare the different phases directly, due to the fact that all of the pottery types are estimated to have been in use for approximately the same length of time (between 700 and 1000 years; see Figure 3.1).

Differences in the level of chronological information available for different sites inevitably caused some discrepancies during the analysis. For example, on some sites, pottery had only been identified at a broad period level (e.g. ‘Early Bronze Age’); these were omitted from timespecific analyses. In other cases, whilst it was clear that a particular pottery style had been found in pit contexts, the exact number of pits in which it had been found was not recorded; thus, for example, although there were six Food Vessel pit sites, only three could be included in analyses relating directly to pit numbers. As a result, it should be noted that throughout this chapter the number of sites or pits used in each analysis can change, depending on which aspect is being investigated. Pits which did not contain pottery, but were considered by the excavator to be Neolithic or EBA in date were listed, but not used during specific phase-based analyses. ‘Empty’ pits were noted, but not included in any analyses.

Overall, two key patterns were identified: •

the number of sites increases through time, before dropping dramatically with Collared Urn (Figure 3.2)

•

the overall number of pits decreases throughout the study period (Figure 3.3).

80 70 60

no. of sites

50

3.3. Results

40 30

Sizes and numbers of sites

20

In total, 1556 pits of Neolithic or EBA date were identified as a result of this study, from 148 excavations (see Appendix 1). Many of these excavations actually produced pits from more than one phase, or more than 100m apart; once these are counted as different entities the total number of ‘sites’ rises to 197. These figures certainly confirm the impression that pit sites are particularly prevalent in East Anglia (see Chapter 1). Similar SMR searches in Wiltshire, Kent and North Yorkshire (counties selected to give coverage across England) produced 43, 15 and 14 sites respectively.

10 0 Earlier Neo.

P'boro Ware

Grooved Ware

Beaker

Collared Urn

Food Vessel

Figure 3.2. Number of sites by period (total: 197 sites)

800

No. of sites 87 56 13 11

% of sites 52 33 8 7

700 600 500 no. of pits

No. of pits 1 2-9 10-19 20+

Table 3.1. Range of site sizes (data available for 167 sites)

The following section investigates whether there was any consistency in relation to the forms that sites in East Anglia took across time or space, or any clear distinctions between separate phases. The number of pits found on any one site, from the same phase, varied from 1 to 200.

400 300 200 100 0 Earlier Neo.

Generally, there were far more sites with small numbers of pits than with large (Table 3.1). Although sites with smaller numbers of pits were almost certainly over-represented (due to the fact that some of those recovered in evaluation trenches and small excavations could have been part of larger clusters which lay unseen beyond the edge of excavation), the fact that 85% of all pit sites consisted of less than ten pits is a crucial characteristic to note.

P'boro Ware

Grooved Ware

Beaker

Collared Urn

Food Vessel

Figure 3.3. Number of pits by period (total: 1211 pits)

To put it another way, earlier on, sites were fewer in number but had more pits (with the exception of the Peterborough Ware phase; see below); later, there were more sites, but these had fewer pits. These changes are expressed visually in 14

3. PIT SITES IN EAST ANGLIA: A REGIONAL STUDY Figure 3.4, where sites have been broken down into single pits, and ‘small’ (2-9 pits), ‘medium’ (10-19) and ‘large’ (20+) sizes; the relatively large number of sites with many pits stands out in the ‘Earlier Neolithic’, whilst the extremely high proportion of Beaker sites with only one or two pits can also clearly be seen. It is interesting to note that the pattern in terms of overall pit numbers is different to that observed in Thomas’s survey of ‘southern Britain’, where the total number of pits was shown to increase throughout the Neolithic (1999a, 69).

apply in East Anglia. Possible reasons for this decrease are touched upon in Chapter 7. Discussion The patterns observed through time, at this basic level of investigation, are strong, and raise some fundamental questions. The fact that the two main trends are contradictory (the number of sites increases whilst the overall number of pits decreases) is crucial, suggesting that the expansion in terms of numbers of sites was not simply a result of pit digging becoming more popular or prevalent. Although the number of places in which pits were dug increased, the number of pits created in overall terms actually decreased. This implies that we are dealing with a relatively complicated situation, whereby critical changes took place over time in relation to the character of pit sites.

45 40 35 30

no. of sites

25

In terms of the different numbers of pits on each site, it is important to consider why, overall, there should be more sites with small numbers of pits than with large; whether sites with small and large numbers of pits represent the same ‘thing’ at all; and why the significant shift through time towards smaller numbers of pits per site came about.

20 15 10 5

In terms of the changing numbers of sites through time, it is important to think about why the total increases throughout the Neolithic: whether it implies an increase in the kinds of site at which pits were dug, an expansion in terms of the parts of the landscape which were occupied, or a shift in terms of what people were ‘doing’ with pits.

0 Earlier Neo. 1 pit

P. Ware

G. Ware

2-9 pits

Beaker 10-19 pits

C. Urn

F. Vessel 20+ pits

Figure 3.4. Range of site sizes by period (total: 167 sites)

We also need to consider the decrease in total numbers of pits through time, examining whether this simply reflects a subtle change in practice (whereby fewer pits were dug on each site), or if it has wider implications in terms of our understanding of the character of pit sites, and the role of deposition generally.

The Peterborough Ware phase fits uncomfortably within the sequence. In terms of numbers of sites, it falls only slightly below the preceding ‘Earlier Neolithic’ phase (27 compared to 34); as we are dealing with relatively small sample sizes, this discrepancy could easily be accounted for by chance recovery factors. However, in terms of numbers of pits, it is much more clearly out of place: the Peterborough Ware phase produced 59 pits in total, compared to the previous ‘Earlier Neolithic’ (710 pits) and subsequent Grooved Ware (236) phases. The highest number of Peterborough Ware pits on any one site was eleven, whereas the preceding and subsequent phases produced most of the sites with large numbers of pits. As Peterborough Ware is a generally distinctive, often highly decorated pottery style, it seems unlikely that these discrepancies could have been caused by a failure to recognise its presence. In this light, it is interesting to note that the Peterborough Ware tradition in East Anglia has been described previously as “enigmatic” (Cleal 1984, 156), and that in Wessex it was associated only with quite specific depositional contexts (Thomas 1996a, Ch. 6). The place of Peterborough Ware in relation to long-term trends is discussed in more detail in Chapters 5 and 9.

Finally, it is important to scrutinise the exceptions: we need to consider why the Peterborough Ware phase stands out as unusual, and what caused the change at the beginning of the Collared Urn phase. The rest of this study sets out to address these questions. 3.4. Geographical and geological location of sites Clearly, many different factors would have determined the character of any one place in the past. It is equally clear, however, that few of these factors are directly accessible to us today, especially at the regional scale required here. Aspects such as the vegetation in particular locations cannot usually be approached: the evidence simply does not survive. Aspects such as the histories entwined within a place arguably can be (see Chapters 4-7), but not at the level of East Anglia. As a result, it has been necessary to focus on a few specific factors which can be approached at a regional scale: basic geographical position, topography (height above sea level and proximity to river valleys or the sea), and

During the Collared Urn phase, there appears to have been a fundamental change in the character of pit sites, with both site numbers and pit numbers decreasing dramatically. The suggestion that pits were a temporally bounded phenomenon limited predominantly to the Neolithic certainly seems to 15

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION underlying geology. (Geological information was obtained primarily from Ordnance Survey 1977 and 1979. Additional information concerning loess deposits (which were too thin to feature on OS maps) was obtained from Cleal 1985 and Ashwin 1996.) These variables may seem in some senses quite abstract, defined in relation to a particular understanding of the landscape. However, it is nevertheless likely that they would have had effects which were relevant to people in the past, contributing to the character of places in which pits were dug. In order to carry out this part of the study, a GIS analysis was undertaken. River systems, coastline, contours and drift geology were added to the GIS project, supplementing the basic level of information about pit sites produced as a result of the initial survey. Neolithic/EBA coastlines (taken from Waller 1994) were incorporated, but due to the lack of information relating to ancient river courses, only modern rivers were plotted (across most of the region, except in rare cases where floodplains are broad, river courses will not have shifted more than a few hundred metres (C. French, pers. comm.)).

there appears to be an element of clustering to the sites’ distribution (perhaps accentuated by the increased number of sites). The dramatic drop in site numbers during the Collared Urn and Food Vessel phases makes it difficult to generalise about their locations; however, as far as it is possible to tell, there is no obvious change in terms of the kinds of place in which they are found. The pattern of geographical expansion, prior to the EBA at least, fits well with patterns observed in other parts of southern England as well (e.g. Gardiner 1984, 26; Edmonds 1987, 170-3; Richards 1990, 271; Thomas 1999a, 21). Geological patterning Geology also appears to have been a very important factor in terms of the location of pit sites. Figure 3.6 shows all phases together in relation to the immediate underlying subsoil. There is a distinct tendency for sites to be located on lighter soils: 90% are found on sand/gravel, 7% on chalk, 2% on clay and 1% on other subsoils. There is a particular bias against clay: only 4 of the 197 sites were on clay, despite the fact that it underlies considerably more than half of the Study Area. The strength of this preferential site location is highlighted particularly well in Figure 3.6 within the areas dominated by clay soils, where sites can be seen ‘clinging’ to thin fingers of gravel and sand. The reasons why these lighter soils were favoured are discussed in more detail below. It is worth noting at this stage, however, that they would have been easier to work, less prone to water-logging in times of rain, and may well have been characterised by different types of vegetation.

Geographical patterning Figure 3.5 shows all pit sites together in relation to topography and river systems. Even at this regional scale, it is clear that the sites are situated in very distinct locations: virtually all are in, or close to, the main river valleys or the sea, and on low lying ground. GIS analysis revealed that 61% of all pit sites are within 1km of a large river or the sea, 90% within 2km, and 98% within 3km. This patterning is expressed visually in Figure 3.5, where strings of sites can be seen along the lengths of many rivers, whilst small clusters can be made out close to the coast and between major estuaries. It is also important to note that these figures relate only to larger rivers. Smaller rivers, streams and paleochannels were not incorporated into the GIS analysis, and as a result, the ‘real’ percentages of sites close to water courses are likely to have been even higher (see Chapters 47). The two sites which were more than 3km from a watercourse were 4km and 6km away; one was a single pit containing only flint, the other an unknown number of pits containing Earlier Neolithic pottery. GIS analysis also revealed that 93% of the sites are on ground below 50m O.D. (which makes up only 65%, by area, of the study region); as Figure 3.5 shows, even the few above this are actually situated very close to the interface with the lowlands.

It is important to note at this point that there are significant biases within modern excavation practice towards the recovery of sites on sand and gravel: most large-scale, developer-funded excavation projects in East Anglia (which because of their size are most effective at recovering prehistoric archaeology generally, and pit sites in particular) tend to be associated with sand and gravel quarries. In an attempt to address these biases in some way, I undertook a small-scale study which looked at an essentially random sample of sites within the Study Area (geological data was not readily available within SMRs, so I used the fifty most recent excavations carried out by the Cambridge Archaeological Unit). In total, 60% of these excavations were situated on sand/gravel, 26% on clay, 10% on chalk and 4% on other subsoils. It is clear, therefore, that there is a bias within modern excavation towards sand and gravel sites; consequently, we should expect more sites to have been found on those soils. However, the bias within pit sites towards lighter soils actually far exceeds the bias within modern excavations (Figure 3.8): 90% are found on sand and gravel, compared with 60% of CAU sites excavated. The selection against clay is even more pronounced, with 2% of pit sites found on clay, compared to 26% of CAU sites excavated. While such a study cannot be considered completely reliable, and ultimately the effect of bias in terms of site recovery cannot be ignored, there is certainly some evidence at least which suggests that pit sites were indeed located preferentially on lighter soils.

Once the geographical/topographical settings of sites are viewed as six separate phases (Figure 3.7), certain finer distinctions can be made. During the Earlier Neolithic phase, most of the sites are located in a band which runs across the central part of the region; all but one of these are located firmly in the lowlands, and only three could be described as coastal. During the Peterborough Ware phase, the pattern is fairly similar; a few more sites are found in coastal locations, but all are on low-lying ground. During the Grooved Ware phase, while most are still found in low-lying, riverine locations, there is an increase in the number of sites situated close to the interface with higher ground. During the Beaker phase, although similar geographical positions predominate, 16

3. PIT SITES IN EAST ANGLIA: A REGIONAL STUDY

Fen edge sea levels:

Early Neolithic

EBA

Land above 50m O.D.

Rivers

Figure 3.5. Pit sites in relation to topography

Clay Sand/gravel Chalk Breckland

0

50km

Loess Limestone Silt Fen

Figure 3.6. Pit sites in relation to geology

17

Peat Fen

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

1. Early Neolithic

2. P’borough Ware

3. Grooved Ware

4. Beaker

5. Collared Urn

6. Food Vessel

Fen edge sea levels:

Marine

Peat

50km

0

Land above 50m O.D.

Figure 3.7. Distribution of pit sites by phase

18

Rivers

3. PIT SITES IN EAST ANGLIA: A REGIONAL STUDY

100

consequence of small sample sizes. It is interesting to note that an expansion of activity onto more variable soil types through time has been noted in other regions as well (e.g. Ford 1987, 130; Thomas 1999a, 21-23).

modern excavations Neo/EBA pit sites

90 80 70

Summary

60 %

It is clear, then, that pit sites were located in fairly specific types of places. The vast majority are found in or close to river valleys or the coast, on relatively low-lying ground, and on lighter soils (these three factors are, of course, closely related: the majority of the East Anglian uplands are on clay; rivers are low-lying and tend to run along valleys containing sand and gravel geology). Consequently, it is necessary to think about why pits should have been dug in these quite particular places: we need to consider whether pit sites required a particular quality or character of place which led to this very well-defined distribution; whether their locations simply reflect landscape occupation patterns in a general sense, or if those places were chosen specifically with reference to pit sites; and why variability in terms of their locations appears to have increased through time. It is difficult to begin to approach these questions without a full understanding of the contemporary landscape contexts in which pit sites were situated. For this reason, the next section takes the analysis one stage further, investigating landscape occupation in a wider sense.

50 40 30 20 10 0 sand/gravel

clay

chalk

other

Figure 3.8. Modern CAU excavations and Neolithic/EBA pit sites on different subsoils It is interesting to note that all four of the sites which were found on clay produced very small numbers of pits: three were isolated features (two containing Beaker pottery, one Beaker and/or Grooved Ware), whilst one site produced two pits (both of which contained flint alone). Once these general patterns are investigated on a phase-byphase basis, again a number of subtle differences emerge. While lighter soils were over-represented in comparison to clay throughout the study period, there nevertheless seems to have been a degree of change between separate phases.

Sand/Gravel

Chalk

Clay

3.5. Neolithic and EBA landscapes: the wider picture Given that pits appear to have been positioned in quite specific locations, it is important to investigate how they relate geographically to other kinds of place and activity. The other types of ‘place’ included in this study of wider landscape use in East Anglia were monuments, artefact scatters and stray finds (Grime’s Graves, the only flint mine to have been confirmed by excavation in the region, has not been included at this stage; it is, however, discussed in more detail in Chapter 8). The ‘monuments’ included were long barrows and ‘oval enclosures’ (generally thought to be ploughed-out long barrows or a related type of monument), causewayed enclosures, cursuses, and henges. The ‘stray finds’ included (on the basis of being chronologically diagnostic to the Neolithic/EBA) polished and worked stone axes, axe hammers, and leaf-shaped, transverse, oblique, ‘petit-tranchet derivative’ and barbed and tanged arrowheads. Initially, round barrows/ring ditches were also plotted; however, the fact that they are so widely distributed across the region made it impossible to distinguish any meaningful patterning in terms of their distribution. By contrast, the number of ‘structures’ recorded in SMRs (two in total) was so low that it was also impossible to draw any meaningful conclusions in relation to their distribution. Consequently, although the relationship between those places and pits sites is of considerable interest, structures could not be examined at this stage (but see Chapters 4-7). The basic level of detail required for this study meant that a straightforward search of the four SMR databases, by period and site type, produced all of the necessary information.

Other

Earlier Neolithic

100

-

-

-

Peterborough Ware

92

4

-

4

Grooved Ware

90

8

2

-

Beaker

86

8

4

2

Collared Urn

83

17

-

-

Food Vessel

100

-

-

-

All phases

90

7

2

1

Table 3.2. Percentages of sites on different subsoils

During the Earlier Neolithic there appears to have been an exclusive preference for sand and gravel subsoils. Through time, however, there is a gradual decrease in the proportion of sites found on these soils (with the exception of the Food Vessel phase, which has a very small sample size), and a corresponding increase in the number of different types of geology on which they are found. Pits appear first on nonsand/gravel soils during the Peterborough Ware phase; the ‘new’ subsoil, chalk, becomes increasingly prevalent from then on. During the Grooved Ware phase, clay is represented for the first time, whilst in the Beaker phase all soil types feature, albeit to a limited degree. It is difficult to be sure whether the figures for Collared Urn and Food Vessel reflect a ‘real’ contraction in terms of soil types, or are simply a 19

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION The location of monuments

The fact that artefact scatters and stray finds are both numerous and widespread ensured very good coverage across the region (Figures 3.11 and 3.12). Nevertheless, the quality and quantity of information varied considerably by county, and so some aspects had been recorded very differently within different SMRs. For instance, in Suffolk, artefact scatters were mostly represented as collections of individual finds; as a result, the distribution there appears much sparser than elsewhere. It is also very difficult to be as temporally specific for artefacts as for pit sites. Most of the flint scatters had, quite rightly, been dated loosely, as ‘Neolithic’, ‘Bronze Age’ or simply ‘prehistoric’. Similarly, by far the most numerous stray finds were polished or worked stone axes, which were used throughout the Neolithic. Where it was possible to distinguish between phases at a finer-grained level, however, artefacts of different dates appeared to be similar in their distributions. Consequently, the decision was made not to attempt to distinguish between phases, and all artefacts were plotted together on a single plan.

In comparison to many other parts of Britain, the issue of monument locations in East Anglia can be seen as somewhat problematic. As so few sites remain upstanding as earthworks, and even fewer have actually been excavated, almost all of those listed within SMRs were identified on the basis of aerial photographs alone. However, if only confirmed sites had been used, this study would have been based on an extremely small sample that was very restricted in its distribution, making meaningful patterns in the data unlikely. As a result, it was decided that all probable monuments would be included as well. The incorporation of unconfirmed monuments comes, of course, with specific problems (such as the biases of site recovery from aerial photography), as well as more general uncertainty. Consequently, the following discussion of patterning amongst monuments is necessarily somewhat tentative. It is clear from Figures 3.9 and 3.10 that the locations of monuments are generally similar to those of pit sites, in terms of both geography and geology: many are found on lighter soils, relatively near to rivers, on low-lying ground. Overall, however, monuments appear to be somewhat less rigidly linked to these specific types of place. Whilst the majority are found in the lowlands, several can be seen in the shaded regions of higher ground; similarly, a greater proportion are far from rivers and the sea (38% of monuments are more than 2km away, compared to 10% of pit sites).

While pit sites, and to a slightly lesser extent monuments as well, seem to have been located in particular landscape locations, the same cannot be said for artefact scatters and stray finds (Figures 3.11 and 3.12). The most striking aspect is that finds are distributed right across the study area in many different locations. A number of denser areas are clearly visible, but without exception these can be shown to be the result of collection bias. Four of the densities relate to the main urban areas in the region (Peterborough, Cambridge, Norwich and Ipswich). The fifth relates to the south-eastern fen edge, where extensive field-walking has been carried out (e.g. Healy 1996); this collection has of course taken place because of the impressive artefact scatters, and so may actually be more representative of a ‘true’ density of activity in the past as well as the present.

In terms of geology, the picture is similar, with proportionally more monuments found off the lighter soils than pit sites (11% are on clay, as opposed to 2% of pit sites). It is interesting to note that those monuments which are located in different parts of the landscape to pit sites are mostly long barrows/oval enclosures; on the basis of so few confirmed sites, however, it is probably unwise to discuss variations in the distributional patterning of different monument types any further. The fact that the distribution of monuments overlaps considerably with, but does not exactly match, that of pit sites is certainly interesting. It suggests that some parts of the landscape – river valleys, light soils, lowlying ground – may have been occupied more intensely, or used preferentially, in comparison to others.

Once such collection biases have been taken into account, it is clear that the distribution of artefact scatters and stray finds across the region is fairly even: they are found both on low and high ground; near and far from river valleys and the sea; and on all different types of geology. Towards the south-west of the study area in Cambridgeshire there are hints that clay soils were avoided to an extent, but this avoidance is by no means complete. Importantly, in Norfolk, where the artefactual data had been best recorded for these purposes, the widespread distribution of finds is clearest of all.

The location of artefacts Artefact scatters and stray finds can both be used to give an effective impression of more general landscape use. While the issue of what kind of practices artefact scatters represent remains open to debate (e.g. Schofield 1991), we can be pretty sure that their presence at particular points in the landscape indicates a certain level of activity in that place. Although we can be less certain that individual stray finds represent past ‘places’ in the same sense, it seems reasonable to assume that, in the vast majority of cases, the presence of a diagnostic stray find in a particular spot indicates that someone visited that point in the landscape during the Neolithic or EBA.

3.6. Discussion The understanding of pit sites reached in this chapter derives strength from the fact that every site in the region has been incorporated. We now have a good idea of the different sizes of sites found, the different numbers of sites through time, and their locations in relation to both geography/geology and other contemporary sites. The fact that considerable variability was observed between phases, in terms of the number of sites and the number of pits

20

3. PIT SITES IN EAST ANGLIA: A REGIONAL STUDY

C. enclosure

Cursus

Long barrow

Henge

Oval enclosure

Pit site

Fen edge sea levels:

Early Neolithic

EBA

Land above 50m O.D.

Rivers

Figure 3.9. Monuments in relation to topography

Clay Sand/gravel Chalk Breckland Loess Limestone

50km

0

Silt Fen Peat Fen

Figure 3.10. Monuments in relation to geology

21

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

Early Neolithic:

stray finds

scatters

Late Neolithic:

stray finds

scatters

Early BA:

stray finds

scatters

Neolithic/EBA:

stray finds

scatters

Pit sites:

Fen edge sea levels:

Early Neolithic

EBA

Land above 50m O.D.

Rivers

Figure 3.11. Artefact scatters/stray finds in relation to topography

Clay Sand/gravel Chalk Breckland Loess Limestone

50km

0

Silt Fen Peat Fen

Figure 3.12. Artefact scatters/stray finds in relation to geology

22

3. PIT SITES IN EAST ANGLIA: A REGIONAL STUDY on those sites, indicates that, at different times, pit deposition may have been employed in very different ways. Pits were not simply a constant backdrop to, but a dynamic and changing aspect of, life at that time. A site with pits does not, therefore, necessarily always represent the same ‘thing’. Consequently, it is important to consider whether and how the character of the places in which pits were dug may have changed over time. It is also important to situate the changes observed in relation to pits in the context of deposition generally. Questions of variability are especially pertinent to the Peterborough Ware phase (which represents a clear exception to general numerical trends) and the Collared Urn phase (which apparently witnesses a key transformation in terms of the role that pits played); it is vital to think carefully and critically about how we should understand these.

associated with, it is necessary to take this study beyond these related, but slightly abstract considerations, to focus in detail on what the character of individual sites, and the material on them, can tell us. The way that pit sites, monuments, and artefact scatters/stray finds relate to each other within the landscape is also an issue of crucial importance. The fact that certain types of site (pits, monuments) are found in certain places, whilst others (scatters, stray finds) are found almost everywhere, implies that different parts of the landscape were used, occupied and perceived differently. Artefact scatters, like pits, have often been seen as settlement-related, whilst monuments are usually seen as a distinct category. Yet in terms of their locations, monuments appear to share many similarities with pit sites, whilst artefact scatters can be quite different. The picture of landscape occupation established so far suggests the possibility of ‘settlements’ (defined archaeologically by pits) in river valleys and on lighter soils. The fact that monuments are located in similar parts of the landscape may suggest that these zones were occupied predominantly, with a wide range of activities being carried out there. The slightly more varied distribution of monuments could imply that other factors influenced their location as well (see Tilley 1994 for example). The presence of large scatters on the clay uplands (as well as many stray finds) may indicate sustained activity of a different sort in those areas. It is important to consider in detail what the complex relationships between different types of site can tell us about landscape occupation during the Neolithic and EBA.

The landscape study set out in the previous section indicated that pits were usually situated in particular types of place (or, perhaps conversely, were not situated in others). The strength of this geographical and geological patterning, especially when compared to that of other types of site, suggests that there may well have been something about pit sites which either necessitated, or resulted in, them being located in such places. As discussed in Chapter 2, the link between pits and settlement has often been made. Their preferred locations – close to rivers, on light soils, on low-lying ground – could certainly be seen as conducive to occupation of that sort; the picture of sites on easily-worked soils, close to sources of water and perhaps the main routes of movement through the landscape at that time, certainly sits very comfortably with ‘common-sense’ impressions of suitable locations for ‘settlement’. In this light, it is also worth noting that the geological locations of pit sites in East Anglia fit well with patterns of landscape occupation through time noted elsewhere (e.g. Ford 1987, 30; Thomas 1999a, 21). While it therefore does seem likely that pits may well have been related to settlement occupation of some sort, it remains to be established what kind of ‘settlement’ it would have been (how long it lasted, how permanent it was, what kinds of activities it involved). In order to understand pits properly, and the full variability of the occupation practices they were

Essentially, the rest of this study sets out to address the issues outlined here. Chapters 4-7 focus in on pit sites through time, attempting to understand them at a much more detailed level. Chapter 8 shifts the focus of investigation outwards again, investigating monuments, artefact scatters and flint mines, and landscape occupation as a whole. Chapter 9 presents a narrative of landscape, place and depositional practice through time.

23

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

Introduction to Chapters 4, 5, 6 and 7 At the end of the previous chapter, a number of key issues were highlighted for further investigation. In relation to the character of pit sites, the central concern was whether all sites can be treated as a single category, whether a site with pits necessarily always represents the same thing. In relation to the location of pit sites, it was argued that while pits have usually been assumed to relate in some way to ‘settlement’, and that the types of place in which they were situated could be seen as conducive to occupation of that sort, we still need to consider whether we are justified in making that connection, to think more carefully about what sort of places they represent. In relation to the wider landscape context of pit sites, it was pointed out that in terms of their distribution they are actually much more similar to monuments than to artefact scatters (despite the fact that they are often regarded as more similar in character to the latter); as a result, it was suggested that we need to come to a better understanding of the relationship between pit sites and other contemporary places. In summary, we need to (a) compare variability amongst sites, considering whether they always represent the same thing; (b) consider what kind of places pit sites actually were; and (c) investigate how they relate to other archaeological features in the landscape.

together. Analysis of pit sizes and forms ensures a better understanding of those features at a fundamental level; it also allows sites to be compared in terms of those variables as well. Consideration of the material within pits enables specific issues relating to the ‘dynamics of deposition’ (i.e. what was deposited, how it had been deposited, what had happened to it prior to being deposited) on each site, as well as more general issues concerning the character of each place (the sort of activities that went on there, the kind of occupation that pits represent, the length of that occupation), to be approached. Chapters 4-7 deal in turn with the Earlier Neolithic (i.e. Grimston, Carinated Bowl, Plain Bowl and Mildenhall), Peterborough Ware, Grooved Ware and Beaker phases. The Collared Urn and Food Vessel phases, which witnessed a dramatic change in terms of the prominence of pit sites within the archaeological record, are not considered in detail; they are nevertheless discussed in Chapter 9. Due to the detailed level of investigation required at this stage, it simply would not have been possible to include every one of the sites identified in the previous chapter. Equally, the necessary level of information was not available for every site. As a result, within each of the four phases, ten sites – a relatively large but still manageable sample – were selected for analysis. In order to address issues of variability relating to different site sizes and geographies, a broad spectrum of sites was chosen: within each chapter, sites with different numbers of pits, situated in different parts of the study region, have been included. In order to investigate issues of contextual variability, pits found in different situations (on their own, in association with different types of monuments, etc.) are compared. Issues relating to continuity over time are addressed through the inclusion of pits from the same sites in different chapters.

Until now, this study has been broad: its scale has been the region, and all of the sites, with all of their pits, have been incorporated. In order to address the issues outlined above, it is necessary to change the scale of analysis. The aim of Chapters 4-7, therefore, is to narrow the focus of inquiry. Consequently, the studies which follow operate at three more detailed scales: the individual site, the features on those sites, and the artefacts within those features. The main aim is to establish, through time: •

A characterisation of variability at the site level, in terms of their local topographic situations, their spatial ‘layouts’ (i.e. the associations between the pits on each site), and their relationship to other contemporary features

•

A characterisation of variability at the pit level, in terms of their formal characteristics (shape, size, fills, etc.)

•

A characterisation of the material within those pits, in terms of how it had been deposited, the types of artefact deposited, the condition of those artefacts, and the quantities of material involved

Within each chapter, following each investigation of ten sites together, one site is selected for further analysis. The intention of these case studies is to take the study to as detailed a level as possible, highlighting new aspects which can only be seen at that level, and bringing elements visible at the previous scale into even sharper focus. The case studies involve a very detailed exploration of each site; in particular, a first-hand examination of the material was undertaken. Sites with relatively large numbers of pits were chosen intentionally, in order to enable more complex discussions (there would simply have been less to say about sites with one or two pits), and to ensure that as many pits, and as much material as possible, were included. In any case, as we will see, the differences between small and large sites come to seem less extreme on closer inspection. Ultimately, because Chapters 4-7 work at three different scales of analysis, and because the time period they cover is long overall, it is possible to move from these very detailed site-scale investigations, to address many of the ‘big’ issues (whether pit sites represent the same thing at the beginning of the Neolithic as they do at the end, the role of the ‘anomalous’ Peterborough Ware phase, etc.) raised in Chapter 3.

This more detailed analysis enables us to address many of the questions raised in Chapter 3. It becomes possible to look more closely at the kinds of place in which pits were located (i.e. at a local rather than a regional scale). Comparison of the layouts of different sites elicits similarities and differences between them in terms of the archaeology itself, rather than the more abstract factors (geographical position, basic numbers of pits, etc.) explored in the previous chapter. Discussion at the site level of the relationships between pits and other contemporary features enables important new light to be shed on the role that each played, and how they fitted 24

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC

Chapter 4. Earlier Neolithic only be addressed by looking in detail at original site archives and the material itself: the exact character of each material assemblage (pottery decorations and re-fits, flint raw materials, etc.); the precise processes which had affected artefacts prior to deposition; the intricacies of artefacts’ positions within individual features. The seventh and final section concludes by synthesising all of these findings, and summarising what can be said, overall, about the character of Earlier Neolithic pit sites.

4.1. Introduction This chapter is divided into seven interlinking sections. Sections 4.2-4.4 are organised according to the structure outlined in the previous section, looking in turn at sites, pits, and the material within those pits. Those which deal with sites and pits are predominantly descriptive, investigating formal characteristics such as the local landscape situations in which sites are found, how pits relate spatially to each other within each site, the relationship between pits and other contemporary features, and their basic shapes and sizes. The section which deals with material culture is somewhat more interpretive, focusing on what the artefactual evidence can tell us about those pits and the sites on which they were found. It investigates the ‘dynamics of deposition’, looking at what kind of things were deposited, how they were deposited, and what had happened to them prior to deposition. It also addresses wider issues, such as how long, and how often, sites were occupied, and the kind of activities which went on there. The fifth section summarises these findings, returning to the key questions set out above: whether we can actually treat pit sites during the Earlier Neolithic as a single category, what kind of places they were, and how they related to other features. The sixth section is a case study, focusing on the 226 pits found at Kilverstone in Norfolk. It addresses many of the same questions at a much more detailed level, but also deals with new issues which can

The ten Earlier Neolithic sites selected represent a broad cross-section of sites in many different ways. Most obviously, they vary in terms of geographical location (Figure 4.1), and overall pit numbers (Table 4.1). In relation to the latter, it is interesting to note that all of the sites with small numbers of pits produced only undecorated Plain Bowl or ‘Grimston’ vessels, whilst those with large numbers (with the exception of Broome Heath) produced decorated Mildenhall pottery within their assemblages as well. This patterning is no doubt at least partly a consequence of the characteristics of the material: the proportion of decorated vessels within ‘Mildenhall’ assemblages is usually fairly low (16% of those at Kilverstone for example; see Section 4.6); consequently, on sites with fewer pits (which tend to have significantly smaller assemblages; see Section 4.4), it is less likely that decorated forms would actually be represented.

25

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION Site name Kilverstone (A & E) Hurst Fen Spong Hill Broome Heath Barleycroft Paddocks Eaton Heath Yarmouth Road Padholme Rd, Fengate Hall Farm Reservoir Longham

Pits 226 200 56 31 27 12 7 2 1 1

County Norfolk Suffolk Norfolk Norfolk Cambs. Norfolk Norfolk Cambs. Norfolk Norfolk

Pottery style Mildenhall/P Bowl Mildenhall/P Bowl Mildenhall/P Bowl Plain bowl Mildenhall/P Bowl Mildenhall/P Bowl Grimston Grimston Plain bowl Plain bowl

Other contemporary features None Disparate PHs/stake-holes Two possible PH structures, other PHs Enclosure, long barrow, disparate PHs Three groups PHs/stake-holes Disparate PHs Oval enclosure, disparate PHs Structure, disparate PHs Single PH None

References Garrow et al. forth. Clark et al. 1960 Healy 1988 Wainwright 1972 Evans & Knight 1997 Wainwright 1973 Robertson 2002 Pryor 1974 Birks 2000 Ashwin 1998; 2001

Table 4.1. The ten Earlier Neolithic sites discussed in Chapter 4

Although Cleal has warned against any straightforward assumptions that Earlier Neolithic plain forms were earlier than decorated ones in south-western Britain (Cleal 2004), it is also possible that this patterning reflects a temporal change, with decorated pottery becoming more prevalent, and sites producing more pits, over time. Unfortunately, the lack of radiocarbon dates for most sites makes it impossible to determine whether this was indeed the case.

Yarmouth Road and Padholme Road. The sections which follow illustrate in much more detail the full range of variability between sites at a variety of different scales.

The fact that the ten sites were published over a span of more than forty years meant they also varied significantly in terms of how each site had come to be excavated, described and interpreted. As a result, different preconceptions were brought to each site report, and different levels of information were considered significant. (Unfortunately, for example, the level of information provided about the pits at Etton causewayed enclosure (Pryor 1998) was not nearly detailed enough to allow their incorporation in this part of the study; they are, however, brought into the discussion in Chapter 8.) This point is perhaps best illustrated in relation to Hurst Fen and Kilverstone, two sites which are actually fairly similar in appearance, but were excavated nearly fifty years apart.

One of the main conclusions of the regional study in Chapter 3 was that pit sites tend very strongly towards being close to rivers, and on relatively low lying ground. The sites selected for more detailed investigation reflected this wider picture fairly well, with eight of the ten being less than 1km from a river. Interestingly, the two which were furthest from a watercourse (Hall Farm Reservoir at 2.2km, and Longham at 1.3km) were also the smallest in terms of pit numbers, both producing single pits; this is a key point, which will be discussed in full at the end of the chapter.

4.2. Site-scale analysis The local landscape situations of sites

At Hurst Fen, the pits were interpreted as grain storage facilities on a permanent settlement, and finds assemblages were described without contextual information. At Kilverstone, the pits were seen as having been dug primarily to receive cultural material, the ‘settlement’ was considered impermanent, and large amounts of contextual information were provided. Interpretations of other sites varied considerably as well. The pits at Broome Heath, like those at Hurst Fen, were considered to be related to grain storage (Wainwright 1972). Interestingly, Wainwright did not put forward the same explanation for the pits at Eaton Heath, presumably because they were much smaller in size, and because the majority of the discussion was taken up with the (supposed) ‘ritual shafts’ found on the site (Wainwright 1973, 23-25). The pits at Spong Hill were interpreted as the result of five separate visits to the site; Healy remained vague as to their function, but suggested that they may have been filled with midden material on departure from the site, in an attempt to level the ground (Healy 1988, 106). Interestingly, much less consideration was given to interpretation or discussion of the pits on sites with smaller numbers: at Longham and Hall Farm Reservoir, ‘ritual’ or ‘ceremonial behaviour’ were invoked (Ashwin 1998, 26; Birks 2000, 6), whilst no particular interpretation was put forward at

Figure 4.2. View of Spong Hill today. The Earlier Neolithic pits were located towards the summit of the hill to the right; a river runs within the trees to the left.

The relationship identified in Chapter 3 between pit sites and low lying ground was also reflected at this level, with nine of the ten sites located lower than 50m OD (Longham was slightly higher, at 60m). Interestingly, though, once the topographic position of those sites was investigated in more detail, a slightly different picture emerged. Although in an overall sense the sites were low-lying, in terms of their immediate landscape the majority were actually in locally elevated positions, usually just above the floodplain of the nearest river (Figure 4.2); they were not, however, necessarily on south-facing slopes in “commanding positions” as Healy has suggested (1984, 97). The fact that most were located close to water, but above the wet 26

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC Hurst Fen (Figure 4.3c): the main excavation area at Hurst Fen measured approximately 50 x 30m. Many of the 200 pits were grouped extremely densely towards the centre of the site; at the edges, where features were more widely spaced, several clusters (containing between 3 and 16 pits) similar to those at Kilverstone were visible.

floodplain, echoes and adds weight to the conclusion of the previous chapter: that most pit sites were placed in specific locations which could be seen as conducive to settlement. Within this phase, every one of the sites was located on sand or gravel, and so variability along those lines was not an issue. Unfortunately, though, the fact that they are on acidic soils, means that very little detailed environmental evidence survives, and it is almost impossible to establish whether they would have been situated in woodland, clearings, or open grassland. Interestingly, many sites did produce charred cereal grains; what this could mean in terms of our understanding of the character of those places is discussed in more detail below.

Spong Hill (Figure 4.4a): the excavated area at Spong Hill measured 170 x 130m. The 56 pits there were grouped into five distinct clusters (varying in size from 2 to 17 pits) separated by up to 50m; none of these were at all regular in shape. A small number of isolated pits were also found. Broome Heath (Figure 4.4b): the excavated area at Broome Heath measured 150 x 90m. The 31 pits there were widely dispersed across the site; a few might be described as being in clusters (of up to 14 pits). These clusters were not particularly regular in shape, and occasionally appeared to have been formed through a combination of ‘pairs’ or ‘trios’ of pits.

The spatial relationships between pits on each site

Barleycroft Paddocks (Figure 4.5a): the main excavation area at Barleycroft Paddocks measured 40 x 15m. The 27 pits there were mostly found in pairs rather than larger groupings; these pairs had in some cases been cut by single pits. 17 of the pits were grouped closely together, the others were more widely dispersed. A number of isolated pits were also found in the trenches surrounding the main excavation.

The scale of variability in terms of the overall spatial ‘layout’ of their pits is clearly illustrated in Figures 4.3 to 4.7 and my own brief site descriptions below. (On some original site plans, it was not possible to distinguish those pits which contained pottery from those which did not; in a few cases, therefore, the number of pits depicted in Figures 4.3 to 4.7 is greater than the figure given in Table 4.1).

Eaton Heath (Figure 4.5b): the excavated area at Eaton Heath measured 88 x 86m. 10 of the 12 pits fell in two distinct clusters (of 3 and 7 pits) separated by 20m; in addition there were two outliers, over 30m away.

A key aspect of the layout of many sites was the presence of pit clusters. Within these clusters, while some pits did intercut, many were discrete as well. Interestingly, pit ‘clusters’ or ‘groups’ were identified on all of the sites where more than ten pits were found. Usually, pits are assigned to one cluster on the basis of (a) spatial proximity to each other, and (b) spatial separation from those seen as being located in other clusters. This process is often entirely subjective, and can incorporate very different groupings of pits. In a number of cases, however, these spatial connections and separations were reflected materially as well, suggesting that clusters can have a more objectively defined validity. At Kilverstone, Hurst Fen and Spong Hill, different pits within a cluster (many of which did not intercut) contained parts of the same pot(s), whilst those in separate clusters could not be linked in the same way.

Yarmouth Road Quarry (Figure 4.6a): the excavated area at Yarmouth Road measured 260 x 200m. The 7 pits there were very widely dispersed across the site; none were grouped into clusters. Padholme Road, Fengate (Figure 4.6b): the excavated area immediately around the pits at Padholme Road measured 50 x 37m. The two pits were situated 7m apart. Hall Farm Reservoir (Figure 4.7a): an area measuring 200 x 150m was subject to watching brief at Hall Farm Reservoir. A single pit was found towards the centre of the site. Longham (Figure 4.7b): an area measuring 350 x 160m was excavated at Longham. A single pit was found towards the centre of the site.

As Figures 4.3 to 4.7 and the site descriptions below clearly show, the ten Earlier Neolithic sites investigated varied considerably, both in relation to pit densities and overall spatial layouts. While the widespread presence of pit clusters suggested some degree of coherence in the way that sites had been formed, overall sites were far from uniform. The issue of material connections between pits in the same cluster is discussed in more detail below.

The relationship between pits and other contemporary features The relationship between pits and other contemporary features has already been outlined, at a regional level, in Chapter 3. There, although a number of important links were made, the conclusion was that we do not yet have a good understanding of how pits articulate with other elements within the landscape.

Site descriptions Kilverstone (Figure 4.3a & b): two excavation areas at Kilverstone (measuring 40 x 40m and 50 x 40m) situated 150m apart are considered together in this chapter. Some of the 226 pits appear isolated, but most were densely grouped together in clusters (containing between 3 and 17 pits), usually separated from each other by several metres; a few of these clusters were regular in shape, forming neat rectangles.

This section attempts to address that lack of understanding by looking, at the level of the site, at how pits relate to other features found close to them. It is important to point out that

27

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

Key to Figures 4.3-4.7 Pits Empty pits and post-holes

a. Kilverstone, Area A (after Garrow et al. 2005, Fig. 3)

b. Kilverstone, Area E (after Garrow et al. 2005, Fig. 4)

c. Hurst Fen (after Clarke et al. 1960, Pl. 26) Figure 4.3. Kilverstone (see also Figures 4.13-4.15) and Hurst Fen

28

0

20m

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC

a. Spong Hill (after Healy 1988, Fig. 5)

0

20m

b. Broome Heath (after Wainwright 1972, Fig. 3)

Earthwork enclosure

0

Figure 4.4. Spong Hill and Broome Heath

29

20m

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

a. Barleycroft Farm (after Evans & Knight 1997, Fig. 7)

0

20m

b. Eaton Heath (after Wainwright 1973, Fig. 3)

0

Figure 4.5. Barleycroft Farm and Eaton Heath

30

20m

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC

a. Yarmouth Road (after Robertson 2003, Figs 4 & 5) The locations of only four pits were discernible from the report

Oval enclosure

0

20m

b. Padholme Road, Fengate (after Pryor 1974, Fig. 4) No edge of excavation was depicted in original report.

Beam-slot structure

0

Figure 4.6. Yarmouth Road and Padholme Road, Fengate

31

2m

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

a. Hall Farm Reservoir (after Birks 2000, Fig. 2)

0

20m

b. Longham (after Ashwin 1998, Fig. 3)

0

Figure 4.7. Hall Farm Reservoir and Yarmouth Road

32

20m

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC the relationship between pits and artefact scatters is not dealt with here, or in Chapters 5, 6 and 7. Whilst it was relatively easy to assess their interrelationship at a regional level, it proved much more difficult at the site scale, because of the problems associated with dating flint scatters accurately, and because surface collections and excavated features have only very rarely been studied in close proximity. The relationship between pits and artefact scatters is, however, addressed in Chapters 8 and 9.

(Wainwright 1973, 9). The picture was similar at Yarmouth Road and Padholme Road. At Hall Farm Reservoir, a single small post-hole was found next to the single pit.

On eight of the ten sites investigated, pits were found in association with other, probably contemporary features (Figures 4.3-4.7); at Kilverstone and Longham, only pits were found. Post-holes were by far the most common feature type, being identified on every one of those eight sites. Postholes, like pit clusters, are difficult archaeological entities to tie down, particularly when they do not clearly form part of a structure (as was the case with the majority of those considered here). Sometimes, it is obvious that an isolated feature would have held a post (particularly when there is evidence in section), but in most cases it is difficult to be certain. As a result, post-holes are usually distinguished from pits on the basis of their morphology: because they have relatively vertical sides and a flattish base, because their depth is greater than their diameter, or conversely because they are very shallow and contain no finds. In this light, it is worth considering the fact that in Figure 4.9, which plots the diameters and depths of pits from all ten sites, not one is deeper than it is wide; those that were may well have been termed post-holes. Due to these difficulties of interpretation, within this chapter and those that follow, it was decided simply to adhere to the excavator’s opinion as to whether features were post-holes or pits.

Unfortunately, the character of this post-hole evidence makes it difficult to draw any meaningful conclusions about their relationships to the pits they were found close to. Generally speaking, to use the words of Clark, Higgs and Longworth, “the hope that plans of huts or houses might be revealed … was disappointed” (1960, 205). Even where lines of postholes were identified, they did not appear to respect, or to be respected by, the pits nearby. The generally ephemeral character and incoherent distribution of post-holes on most sites does, however, support the notion that, if the pits were associated with structures, these would probably have been insubstantial and temporary.

While post-holes were found on most sites, they were seldom seen to form anything like a convincing building or structure. At Hurst Fen, one short line of stake-holes was identified, but “the few post-holes identifiable from their profiles were too widely spaced to suggest any coherent relationship one to another” (Clark et al. 1960, 205); the date of the two ditches found at Hurst Fen, in the absence of any stratigraphic relationship with the pits, remains unestablished. At Spong Hill, a group of sixteen ‘post-holes’, interspersed with the pits in Cluster A, formed a roughly rectangular shape (Figure 4.8); these post-holes may have been part of a structure, but due to considerable irregularities in their forms, this interpretation was considered somewhat “problematical” (Healy 1988, 10). Next to Cluster E, an irregular line of postholes (which at its northern end ran into the pit cluster) could also have formed “part of a more complex structure, the remainder of which lay beyond the eastern limit of excavation” (ibid., 12), but again there were considerable doubts. Cluster D produced a single post-hole. At Broome Heath, the seven post-holes were “too widely spaced to form any coherent patterns” (Wainwright 1972, 12). At Barleycroft Paddocks, three separate clusters of stake-holes and small post-holes (all in close proximity to pit clusters) were excavated, but none were considered “entirely convincing as structures” (Evans & Knight 1997, 27). At Eaton Heath, the post-holes formed no clear pattern, and may actually have been truncated pits or later features

On three sites, pits were found in the vicinity of more substantial archaeology. At Broome Heath, they were associated with an upstanding C-shaped earthwork enclosure and, beyond the excavated area, a long barrow. At Yarmouth Road, they were found close to an oval (mortuary?) enclosure. At Padholme Road, the pits were situated immediately next to a beam-slot structure. On reflection, the task of establishing an unambiguous relationship between pits and the other features on any site is a difficult one to undertake. Due to the fact that the role of pits during the Neolithic and EBA remains unclear, it is difficult to link them to other feature types in any functional sense. Similarly, as chronological sequences at that time are so loose, it is impossible to be sure that different features were actually contemporary, even where they contain the same style of pottery. As a consequence, we have to look towards stratigraphic and spatial relationships in order to assess more directly whether, and how, the different feature types were related. Due to these complicating factors, it was actually difficult to say anything definitive about the relationship between pits and other features, on all three sites. At Broome Heath, although both pits and enclosure contained the same style of pottery, neither obviously respected the other spatially in any 33

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION sense (the same appeared to be true of the relationship between the pits and long barrow, which lay outside the excavated area). In one case, a pit was shown to be sealed by the bank of the earthwork, suggesting that it at least predated the enclosure (Wainwright 1972, 12). On the basis of this stratigraphic relationship, and the fact that the distribution of pits extended beyond the enclosure, Wainwright suggested a temporal separation between the monument and all of the pits (ibid.). While this is certainly a reasonable argument to make, it cannot be guaranteed; it is perfectly possible that some pits on the site post-dated the monument’s construction. It was similarly difficult to draw any firm conclusions as to the relationship between the pits and oval enclosure at Yarmouth Road. Again, both produced the same type of pottery suggesting the possibility of contemporaneity. However, as at Broome Heath, there was no obvious spatial relationship between the two (the pits were simply dotted around the enclosure at various distances). At Padholme Road, the relationship between the beam-slot building and pits was equally ambiguous. Once again, both features produced similar pottery, but neither clearly related to the other in spatial terms (one pit was just inside the wall line of the building, the other just outside).

Most (83%) measured less than 1.00m in diameter, and very few indeed (4%) were over 1.50m wide (Table 4.2) (in cases where pits were not circular, an average figure of both dimensions was taken). The vast majority (90%) were less than 0.50m deep, and only a very small proportion (2%) measured over 1.00m (Table 4.3). Diameter No. of pits % of pits

1-49 129 24

50-99 317 59

100-149 66 12

150-199 13 2

200+ 12 2

Table 4.2. Summary of Earlier Neolithic pit diameters (cm) Depth No. of pits % of pits

1-49 298 90

50-99 27 8

100-149 4 1

150+ 2 1

Table 4.3. Summary of Earlier Neolithic pit depths (cm) The different sizes of pits are depicted in more detail in Figure 4.9, which shows every feature in terms of diameter and depth (this data was available only for 11 of the 200 pits at Hurst Fen, and none of those at Hall Farm Reservoir; for all of the other sites, the required information was available for most, if not all, pits). The initial impression given is that Figure 4.9 supports the patterns identified above very well: most of the pits clearly fall towards the lower end of the size range. However, in addition, a much more revealing pattern can be discerned. In several cases, different sites stand out very clearly in terms of their pit sizes, and as a result a number of distinct site-based clusters can be seen. Those from Kilverstone, for example, are small and shallow, forming a clear grouping towards the bottom left-hand corner of the plot. Those from Barleycroft form a distinct group of relatively wide, shallow features. The pits from Broome Heath are extremely wide and deep, and their size distribution is by far the most variable. The single pit from Longham also falls within this range. The distribution from Spong Hill also shows a relatively large spread of pit sizes. Most of the pits from other sites (Hurst Fen, Eaton Heath, Padholme Road and Hall Farm Reservoir) are similar in size to those at Kilverstone. It is important to point out that these patterns are not simply the result of differential amounts of truncation: the shallowest group of pits, at Barleycroft, would actually have been more protected in recent years than those on other sites due to the presence of a buried soil; the deepest group of pits, at Broome Heath, would have to be reduced in depth by up to a metre to match other sites; etc.

Ultimately, the relationship between pits and other features (whether monuments, buildings or scatters of post-holes) is difficult to assess. In cases where pits were found with other features, the relationship between the two was usually hard to determine, and never obviously hierarchical. Clearly, the establishment of one feature type may well have acted as a focus for the (slightly later) establishment of the other. However, the absence of obvious spatial relationships between them usually meant that it was impossible to ascertain a definitive temporal relationship, saying for certain which came first. Perhaps the most important conclusion to be drawn from this section, therefore, is that, during the Earlier Neolithic, pits were not part of a specific package. They clearly were not dependant on, or required by, any particular feature type: pits were found on their own, with (mostly diffuse) scatters of post-holes, and in association with more substantial structures and monuments. Pits seem to have been very much an archaeological signature in their own right; their excavation and filling seems to have been an appropriate act in a variety of contexts and settings. 4.3. Feature-scale analysis

Interestingly, there is a hint of possible geographical patterning in relation to pit sizes: the three sites with very large pits (Broome Heath, Longham and Spong Hill) are all located in the north-eastern part of the study region (see Figure 4.1). The presence of Eaton Heath (which did not produce large pits) suggests that this was, however, by no means a clear-cut pattern. It is also interesting to note that the two sites with very large numbers of pits (Hurst Fen and Kilverstone) were located only 17km away from each other. There was no discernible correlation between site and pit

This section takes the analysis to a more detailed level, shifting scales from the sites themselves, to look for the first time at variability in terms of individual features. Individual pit sizes All of the Earlier Neolithic pits covered at this more detailed level were circular or oval in plan (some more regularly shaped than others); none were rectangular or square. Tables 4.2 and 4.3 give an impression of the different sizes of pit. 34

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC

180

160

140 Kilverstone 120

Hurst Fen

Depth (cm)

Spong Hill 100

Broome Heath Barleycroft

80

Eaton Heath Fengate

60

Hall Farm 40

Longham

20

0 0

50

100

150

200

250

300

350

400

Diameter (cm)

Figure 4.9. Range of pit sizes on Earlier Neolithic sites (information was not available for Yarmouth Road)

sizes: those with larger numbers of pits did not, for example, necessarily have smaller pits. Overall, the coherence and general consistency of pit sizes within individual sites should perhaps be seen primarily as a consequence of the particular contextual history of each site (this important issue is explored in more detail below).

were found, it is therefore important to consider in more detail what they actually represent. The primary concern in this case is how the artefacts recovered from the pits relate to the ‘original’ material generated on each site. Were the pots found in the pits actually broken on site? If so, what proportion of each vessel made it into the pits? And were certain pieces, or particular flint tools etc., specially selected for deposition? These are, of course, difficult issues to quantify. The question of whether the material within the pits was actually generated (in the sense of pots being broken, flints knapped, etc.) at each site is impossible to answer definitively. Therefore, in the absence of any clear evidence that artefacts were brought in (in a fragmented state), the simplest explanation – that the material was indeed ‘created’ during the course of occupation at the site where it was deposited – will be assumed. In relation to the question of how much of each pot and each knapping sequence made it into the pits, it is important to emphasise that on every one of the ten sites, assemblages were partial: whole pots (even in a fragmentary state), complete knapping sequences, etc., were not deposited. Although the later truncation of pits would have been a factor on some sites, in most cases it did not seem to have been especially severe (judging from the shapes of pits, etc.), and so it is vital to consider other explanations as well. Generally speaking, the proportion of individual vessels present varied considerably. In a very few cases, almost the whole pot was recovered (usually in fragmentary condition), but in other cases vessels were represented by single sherds. Clearly, a significant proportion of what might be termed the ‘original’ material (i.e. all of the sherds from a broken vessel) did not make it into pit contexts. The question of whether

4.4. Material culture-scale analysis Having considered the formal characteristics of Earlier Neolithic pits, it is time now to shift the focus of analysis once more, to the material culture they contained. At a general level, the artefacts found (see Table 4.4) suggest a fairly familiar picture: pots being broken, flints knapped, fires lit, cereals and hazelnuts processed; the fact that only two of the sites produced any animal bone is almost certainly due to the problems of preservation on acidic sandy soils, rather than a reflection of a ‘true’ absence in the past. The intention of this section is to take our understandings of that material – and hence of the sites on which it was found – to a more detailed level. In order to do so, it is necessary to consider those artefactual assemblages more closely. When discussing the representation of artefacts in pit contexts, it is important to be cautious. A substantial amount of work within prehistoric archaeology in Britain over the past couple of decades has served to problematise ‘the archaeological record’, reminding us that, often, specific things were deposited in particular places for very particular reasons (see Chapter 2). Before we talk about what the artefacts in Table 4.4 can tell us about the sites on which they

35

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

Kilverstone Hurst Fen Spong Hill Broome Heath Barleycroft Eaton Heath Yarmouth Road Padholme Road Hall Farm Res. Longham

Pits (no.) 226 200 56 31 27 12 7 2 1 1

Pottery (no.) sherds vessels 2352 151 ? 58+ 1854 113 4648 272 1097 ? ? 26 79 5+ 2 2 88 10 9 4

Flint (no.) 13205 32679 906 4386 1007 466 69 ? 93 ?

Burnt flint y y ? y y ? y ? y ?

Bone y y -

H’nut shell y y y y y y y -

Cereals, etc. w, b, aw wi, bi w, bi wi, bi w n.s. n.s. n.s. n.s.

Querns/ rubbers 5q, 4r 5q, 7r 2q, 2r -

Table 4.4. Summary of finds from Earlier Neolithic sites (w: wheat; b: barley; aw: arable weeds; wi/bi: wheat/barley impression in pottery; n.s.: not sampled)

particular artefacts had been selected for deposition is also a complex one. It is probably sufficient at this stage to say that there were few indications that any of the finds had been preferentially selected for deposition. The argument for nonselection is supported further in the following section by a distinct lack of any evidence for the arrangement of artefacts within pits during this phase (see below).

completely filled with rubbish (rather than receiving a dump of material which was then capped by later, sterile material), a fact which in itself could suggest that they were dug to be backfilled immediately. The fact that most pits contained charcoal-rich fills, and that all of the artefacts seemed to be contained within a soil matrix, supports the assertion that the material deposited within pits was obtained from a primary deposit of what might simply be called ‘rubbish’ or ‘midden’ (this matter is discussed in more detail below). None of the pits produced evidence of having been ‘used’ for some other purpose prior to the deposition of artefacts. In summary, on all ten sites it seems that pits were filled not with objects specifically chosen for deposition (in a direct sense), but with dumps of a representative, if partial, portion of the material generated during the course of occupation at those sites.

How artefacts were deposited Not one of the site reports mentioned any kind of arrangement of material. Finds appear simply to have been dumped, rather than carefully placed, into the pits, often as part of a matrix of charcoal-rich material: Barleycroft: “the artefacts within the pits demonstrate secondary en masse dumping rather than primary placement” (Evans and Knight 1997, 22).

Broome Heath proved an interesting exception in a number of ways. There, in direct contrast to all of the other sites, a significant number of pits contained multiple, and at times finely layered, deposits (Figure 4.10). A total of 84% contained three fills or more. A number of the pits were interpreted as having originally contained wooden boxes (ibid., 12). Although to my mind the evidence for wooden containers is open to question (it is possible that this interpretation was encouraged by a desire to find evidence of grain storage; see Chapter 2), the fact that the sections are unusual is indisputable. Despite these differences, the fills of the pits at Broome Heath nevertheless still appear to have been formed through the successive, and sometimes very large-scale, dumping of material. It is worth reiterating that the pits at Broome Heath were also far larger than on other sites, and much more variable in size. It seems certain that, whatever was going on there was, in a number of ways, quite different to sites elsewhere: the physical character of the pits was quite different, and they were filled in apparently much more complex ways, with sometimes extremely large dumps of material (e.g. F40 produced 1572 sherds and 1268 flints).

Spong Hill: “the material from the features … would be compatible with … their backfilling with accumulated midden material” (Healy 1988, 106). Hurst Fen: “the fillings of the artificial hollows were firm and as a rule discoloured by charcoal to a greater or lesser degree, ranging in colour from a smokey pale grey through to a medium shade to varying shades of black” (Clark et al. 1960, 205). With the exception of Broome Heath (discussed below), 87% of pits contained one fill only, 10% two fills, and 3% three or more. There was no sense of any geographical patterning along these lines, as in most cases sites had a range of fill numbers. The pits with single fills, without exception, suggested immediate backfilling. In cases where more than one fill was discerned, the differences in fill colour or type usually appeared to reflect dumps of material which were subtly different in character. In a very few cases (e.g. Kilverstone, Spong Hill), relatively clean lower fills suggested the possibility that a small amount of erosion had taken place prior to the pits’ infilling; it is, however, difficult to establish the time scale at which that erosion had occurred. Overall, it seems that virtually all of the pits had been dug and backfilled relatively quickly. Most had actually been

The fact that one site should have come to stand out as quite different to all of the others is certainly very interesting. The possibility that this may have come about because pit digging as a practice was in its early stages is considered briefly in Chapter 8.

36

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC While these figures could be seen as evidence that certain types may have been preferentially selected for deposition (see Chapter 6), the pattern can also be explained much more prosaically, as a consequence of the specificities of that particular site. At Barleycroft, there is a distinct lack of good quality flint available locally, and so it is entirely understandable that less working took place there relative to other sites; as a result, the proportion of the assemblage related to flint working is much smaller. It seems likely that variations on other sites may also have come about as a result of the specificities of each place, and consequently the kinds of activities which were carried out there (for example at Hall Farm Reservoir the entire assemblage was comprised of unretouched flakes, cores and a hammerstone suggesting that, by contrast, flint-working was a major component of that site). It is more difficult to talk meaningfully about specific activities in relation to pottery. In a number of cases, external residues suggested that vessels were used for cooking food, and it seems reasonable to assume that they would also have been involved in its preparation and eating, and possibly storage as well. The burnt flint found in many pits may also have been involved, directly or indirectly, in the cooking process. Animal bones were found only at Hurst Fen and Hall Farm Reservoir. The latter site report did not have a specialist animal bone report, whilst Hurst Fen produced only seven identifiable fragments (Clark et al. 1960, 213). The fact that seven of the sites produced charred hazelnut shells, sometimes in very large numbers, suggests that wild resources were certainly important. Environmental samples for flotation were taken only on four sites (Kilverstone, Barleycroft, Spong Hill and Yarmouth Road). At Spong Hill, the two features sampled both produced wheat grains. At Kilverstone, wheat, barley, and arable weeds were found in variable quantities in 21 of the 46 pits sampled. At Barleycroft, wheat was found in 7 of the 8 pits sampled. No plant remains were found in the single pit sampled at Yarmouth Road. Importantly, at both Hurst Fen and Broome Heath, although samples were not taken, cereals were still represented as impressions in the pottery. The presence of quernstones and rubbers at Kilverstone, Hurst Fen and Broome Heath suggests that cereals, and perhaps other foods as well, were probably also processed on those sites.

Types of artefacts This section investigates what the character, condition and quantities of the material found in Earlier Neolithic pits can tell us about what happened on those sites in a wider sense. Table 4.5 details the flint assemblages from the seven sites where information was available. Although it is difficult to quantify a ‘typical’ flint assemblage (Healey & RobertsonMackay 1983), the proportions detailed above do not suggest any major over-representation of certain artefact types: every assemblage is heavily dominated by working waste; tools are also present, but generally in small numbers. Pieces associated with flint working (cores, hammerstones, unretouched flakes and blades, chips, etc.) comprise 96.5% of the entire assemblage, retouched/serrated flakes and blades 2.1%, formal tools (scrapers, arrowheads, laurelleaves, axes, borers, etc.) 1.4%. Generally, most sites did produce a relatively wide variety of flint artefact types, suggesting that a wide variety of tasks was undertaken.

The relative importance of cultivated and wild resources during the Earlier Neolithic is a subject which has seen much debate, even in recent years. Some have argued that wild resources would have played a predominant role (e.g. Entwistle & Grant 1989), others that cereals were much more important (e.g. Rowley-Conwy 2000), and others still that both would have been important (e.g. Thomas 1999a, Jones 2000). In this light, the fact that most sites produced some evidence of cereals is very interesting. While cereal cultivation does not necessarily require year-round attention (G. Jones 2000, 83; Thomas 1999a, 25), it can be assumed that where they were grown, people would have been committed to being in that place, at particular times of the year, for certain amounts of time. The possibility that crops may have been grown at some of these sites has important

The similarity between sites in terms of the composition of their flint assemblages is impressive. As a result, the few cases in which slight variations can be discerned are worth exploring further. Probably the most distinctive site in this regard is Barleycroft. There, the proportion of unworked flakes/blades is relatively low, whilst the proportion of retouched flakes/blades, as well as formal tools, is high. 37

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION Cores

Kilverstone Hurst Fen Spong Hill Broome Heath Barleycroft Eaton Heath Yarmouth Rd Padholme Road Hall Farm Res. Longham Total

Flakes, blades, chips, etc. 3.2 (330) 94.2 (9852) ? ? 1.6 (14) 93.9 (842) 1.6 (69) 95.7 (4195) 0.9 (9) 83.3 (810) 0.0 (0) 93.3 (322) 4.3 (1) 91.3 (21) ? ? 3.2 (3) 95.8 (91) ? ? 2.5 (426) 93.9 (16133)

Hammerstones 0.2 (17) ? 0.2 (2) 0.0 (0) 0.2 (2) 0.0 (0) 0.0 (0) ? 1.1 (1) ? 0.1 (22)

Ser’d/ret’d flakes/blades 1.7 (177) ? 2.2 (20) 0.9 (39) 10.8 (105) 3.5 (12) 0.0 (0) ? 0.0 (0) ? 2.1 (668)

Scrapers 0.6 ? 1.8 1.5 2.0 3.2 4.3 ? 0.0 ? 1.0

(66) (16) (64) (19) (11) (1) (0) (177)

L-s a’heads/ laurel-leaves 0.0 (2) ? 0.2 (2) 0.2 (9) 0.9 (9) 0.0 (0) 0.0 (0) ? 0.0 (0) ? 0.1 (22)

Other tools 0.2 ? 0.1 0.2 1.9 0.0 0.0 ? 0.0 ? 0.3

(16) (1) (8) (18) (0) (0) (0) (43)

Table 4.5. Composition of the ten Earlier Neolithic flint assemblages (% in bold, totals in brackets). Detailed flint assemblage breakdowns were not available for Hurst Fen, Padholme Road and Longham.

implications for our understanding of the character and duration of settlement (see discussion below).

(implying a demarcated space, for a particular kind of rubbish, with slight implications of ‘fertility’ and ‘agriculture’).

The condition of artefacts

In response to these difficulties, within this study the term ‘midden’ will not be used. In its place, a rather more vague term – ‘pre-pit context’ – is employed. It is hoped that, as a result, the constraints and preconceptions associated with a word like ‘midden’ are avoided, creating interpretive space within which different types of context, if they exist, can actually emerge. The term refers simply to the context(s) in which artefacts were situated immediately prior to their deposition in pits (e.g. in piles of ‘rubbish’, scattered around a settlement, etc.).

It is difficult to generalise about the condition of the material excavated from the pits. In some cases, sherds were described as “well preserved” (Healy 1988, 106), whilst in others they were “in an extremely poor state” (Clark et al. 1960, 228; Figure 4.11). Generally, even within individual sites, there was considerable variability in the degree to which pottery had been affected by attritional processes. Interestingly, on the three larger sites where sufficient information was available (Kilverstone, Spong Hill and Broome Heath), the average number of sherds represented per vessel was similar: at 16, 16 and 17. (Throughout this study, original estimates of vessel numbers, made by the authors, are used; where these appear to have been exaggerated or underestimated, it is noted in the text). On the smaller sites (Padholme Road, Hall Farm Reservoir, Longham), numbers were smaller: between 1 and 9. At Kilverstone, it was also noted that many of the sherds had been burnt post-firing (see Section 4.6). The burning of pottery was not mentioned in any of the other reports (heataffected pottery is seldom considered in pottery reports), but burnt flint was noted on seven of the ten sites; in a number of cases, some burnt flint had previously been worked. Similarly, hazelnut shells and seeds had only been preserved due to charring. Burnt clay was only found on a single site (42g at Hall Farm Reservoir). The fact that burnt and unburnt materials were found mixed together within the same deposits is significant, as it implies the existence of a further pre-pit context, in which differentially affected materials were brought together. The material within pits is usually described as having come from a ‘midden’ (see Chapter 2). To my mind, the concept of a ‘midden’ is a rather loaded term, with numerous implications (see also Needham and Spence 1997, 78; Pollard 2002, 23). In some ways, it seems too general a context (it can be applied to different periods and to entirely different sites), but in other ways it seems too specific

38

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC

Kilverstone Hurst Fen Spong Hill Broome Heath Barleycroft Eaton Heath Yarmouth Road Padholme Road Hall Farm Res. Longham

No. pits 226 200 56 31 27 12 7 2 1 1

Sherds 2352 ? 1854 4648 1097 ? 79 2 88 9

Vessels 151 58 min. 113 272 ? 26 5 min. 2 10 4

Sherds per vessel 16 16 17 16 1 9 2

Vessels per pit 0.7 2.0 8.8 2.2 0.7 1 10 4

Table 4.6. Summary of pottery from Earlier Neolithic sites

Not one of the sites was excavated in a way that could really have produced direct evidence of such pre-pit contexts. However, in this light, the mention at Hurst Fen of a “cultural layer” (between topsoil and natural) containing “concentrations of material” (Clark et al. 1960, 203); at Broome Heath of a “fossil soil” containing “a great quantity of Neolithic pottery and flint artifacts” (Wainwright 1972, 3); and at Kilverstone of a very high density of finds in one of the topsoil sample points (Section 4.6), is certainly intriguing.

interpretation of Spong Hill, Healy suggested that each cluster may have related to a separate visit to the site (1988, 105). This interpretation, which could certainly be put forward in other cases as well, is explored in considerable detail in Section 4.6. Quantities of artefacts The quantities of artefacts found within the pits (see Table 4.4) are also critical in terms of our understandings of the kinds of sites we are dealing with. The following discussion focuses mainly on pottery (Table 4.6). The strength of pottery in this case is that, even within ‘partial’ assemblages, it is possible to estimate how many individual vessels are present within the pits. Vessels provide us with a tangible way of thinking about ‘how much’ material we are looking at and, by association, how long these sites may have been occupied. It is much more difficult to assess in a similar way whether we are dealing with ‘a lot’ of flint in numerical terms, as hundreds of pieces can be generated in a relatively short period of time. Similarly, other finds were found in quantities which are also difficult to assess (hazelnut shells), or in only very small amounts (bone, cereal grains, quernstones).

In relation to the character of these ‘pre-pit contexts’, it is also important to note that on several sites material within separate pits in the same cluster appeared to be derived from the same pre-pit source: Spong Hill: “the distribution of sherds of single pots among several features in groups A, B and D suggests that the features of a group may have been backfilled from a common source” (Healy 1988, 106). Hurst Fen: “that the hollows in individual clusters were in some cases at least open at the same time is suggested by the occurrence of sherds from the same pot in different hollows” (Clark et al. 1960, 208). The evidence from Kilverstone, where the picture was similar, is discussed at length below. In all three cases, it is clear that several pits, in several clusters, had been filled from the same source. At Barleycroft, although no re-fits were secured, the existence of unique fabric types in different pairs of pits implies a similar scenario.

The largest number of vessels recovered on any one site was 272, at Broome Heath. Kilverstone produced 151 different vessels, Spong Hill 118. Although no figures were given for Hurst Fen, fifty-eight separate pots were illustrated, and if the quantities of other finds are anything to go by, it is likely that the number of vessels there would also have numbered in the hundreds. The twelve pits at Eaton Heath produced twenty-six vessels; the seven at Yarmouth Road a minimum of five; the two pits at Padholme Road contained sherds from two vessels; the single pits at Hall Farm Reservoir and Longham, ten and four respectively. Clearly, in most cases, we are dealing with large numbers of pots. While the sites with the largest numbers of pits do tend to have larger numbers of vessels, it is worth noting that the correlation between numbers of pits and numbers of vessels is merely approximate: Broome Heath, which produced the most vessels, is only the fourth largest site in terms of pit numbers, whilst Hall Farm Reservoir (a single pit) had the highest average number of vessels per pit.

Barleycroft: fabric types were “uniform within paired pits … This would suggest that each paired set was dug and infilled simultaneously” (Evans & Knight 1997, 23). No re-fitting was undertaken on any of the other six sites; it is therefore possible that a similar situation existed on those as well, but has not yet been recognised. It is also important to note that re-fits were not established between pits in different clusters (with a single exception at Kilverstone, again discussed in detail below). While pits within a cluster often seemed to have been filled with material from the same source, those in different clusters were filled from different sources: clusters appear to have been materially as well as spatially distinct. In her

The intention here is not to generalise about pot breakage rates. Studies which have tried to do so cross-culturally (e.g. 39

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION Arnold 1985, 152-5; Rice 1987, 303) have failed to reach a consensus, and it is unwise to ignore the importance of context in relation to the uses, and therefore breakages, of pots. It is likely that variations in the number of vessels may also relate to the different types of activity associated with different sites (as we saw with flint tools). Similarly, specific contextual issues (how pots were used, how densely each site was occupied, etc.) must be taken into account, as must the fact that the assemblages we are discussing are partial. However, as long as it is not used as a measure in a direct way, the number of vessels present on any one site arguably does provide us with a way of approaching the amount of time that those sites were occupied. It is possible to imagine, in a very loose sense, the kind of occupation and length of time required to create 272 broken pots at Broome Heath, or 151 broken pots at Kilverstone, or ten pots at Hall Farm Reservoir. The fact that most vessels, once broken, seem to have been ‘stored’ for some while in the pre-pit contexts certainly adds a degree of time-depth to the equation. These are large numbers, and if we are right to assume that the vessels were broken during the course of everyday living, it seems that we may be dealing with substantial amounts of (not necessarily continuous) occupation, which (cumulatively) possibly did last substantial lengths of time. JD Hill suggests, having considered a variety of ethnographic sources concerning pot breakage rates, that between 0.6 and 22 pots would have been broken per ‘household’ per year on Iron Age settlement sites (1995, 130).

4.6. Case study – Kilverstone Introduction The 226 pits which form the focus of this case study were found at Kilverstone, on the outskirts of Thetford in southwest Norfolk. The site was dug by the Cambridge Archaeological Unit in advance of a large housing development, between June 2000 and October 2002. It should be noted that this section contains text similar to that subsequently published elsewhere (Garrow et al. 2005; Garrow et al. forthcoming); it has been included here as well for the sake of internal coherence within this study. The landscape around Kilverstone is one of gently rolling hills. The Breckland soils in the area are sandy and welldrained, and contain numerous nodules of fairly high quality flint. The area of archaeological investigation was mostly fairly flat (situated around the 18 and 19m OD contours). However, towards the northern and eastern sides of the site, the ground dropped quite sharply down to the floodplain of the River Thet, which currently curves round to the east and north approximately 250m away (Figures 4.12 and 4.13). The pits were found in two separate excavation areas, located 135m apart. Area A (Figure 4.14) revealed a dense concentration of features, producing 88 pits within the 40 x 40m excavation. While some could be described as ‘isolated’, the majority were grouped into fairly large clusters, which although mostly irregular in terms of their layout occasionally appeared to form somewhat linear arrangements. Area E (Figure 4.15) revealed an even more impressive density of features, producing a total of 138 pits within the approximately 40 x 50m excavation. As with Area A, the majority were grouped into distinct clusters. In this case, however, the clusters varied considerably in terms of their formal characteristics: some were regular and rectangular, others irregular and rather more dispersed. The trenches around and, importantly, between the two areas contained no other features (Figure 4.13). It therefore appears that the pits within each were part of separate sites.

4.5. Summary As a result of this much more detailed investigation into ten Earlier Neolithic sites, a more nuanced understanding of pits at that time has been reached. It has been possible to shed light on all of the key questions raised as a result of the regional analysis in Chapter 3. Inevitably, though, new questions have been generated. We have seen that the assemblages deposited in pits were partial – it is important to ask why this should have been the case. We have seen that material was ‘stored’, prior to deposition, in what has been termed the ‘pre-pit context’ – it is important to ask what the exact nature of that context might have been. We have also seen that many pit clusters were materially, as well as spatially, coherent – it is important to ask what processes led to this patterning. It has been suggested that different clusters may have been related to different visits to each site – we need to find out whether this really was the case. We have also seen that many sites produced assemblages which appear to reflect substantial periods of occupation. Up to now, these assemblages have been discussed only at the site level – it is important in terms of our understandings of those sites that material variability is investigated at the feature level as well. Finally, it has been argued that the differences between sites came about as a result of contextual differences in their developmental histories – it seems appropriate, therefore, to try to explore one site’s historical development through the material that it produced. With these questions in mind, we turn now to our Case Study, in which the 226 pits found at Kilverstone are considered in detail.

The two sites are among the largest examples of earlier Neolithic pit groups in East Anglia (see Chapter 3), and in terms of pit numbers they are superseded only by Hurst Fen. The fact that the site was excavated so recently ensured that excellent contextual information was available, enabling a very detailed study. I was extremely fortunate in being closely involved with both excavations, as the site director. Both have been published as separate grey reports (Garrow 2002 and 2003), and are soon to be published fully in monograph form (Garrow et al. forthcoming). My personal involvement with the site continued alongside my doctoral research. Due to the CAU’s enlightened approach to the postexcavation process, time was made available for me (the person responsible for writing-up the site) to spend time with the material specialists during their analyses, enabling us to come to a joint understanding, based on all of the artefact types, of the dynamics behind the site’s formation.

40

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC

Figure 4.12. Kilverstone today, viewed from the floodplain to the south-east. Area E is on the rise just visible behind the trees.

21m

Area A

Ri

ve

rT he

t

Area E

100

0 metres

12m

Figure 4.13. Kilverstone, Areas A and E in relation to local topography

41

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

F1402 F1423

F1401 F1420

F1400

F1422 F1427 F1406 F1421 F1407 F1469 F1468 F111 F1399 F1408 F112 F1473F1415 F1412 F1413 F1416 F1393 F1411 F122 F1394 F1386 F1404 F1417 F1418 F1414 F1410 F1419

F1431

F1387

F1432

F1405

F1385

F1425 F1396

F1471 F1470

F1384 F1392 F1391

F1435

F1398

F1390

F1428

F1403

F1397

F1389

F1472

F1430

F1429

F1434

F1438

F1395

F1388

F1447

F1439 F1437

F1444

F1458

F1451 F1446

F1455

F1440

F1441

F1442

F1459

F1456 F1466 F1457

F1462 F1449 F1460

F1461

F1452

F118 F117 F1465 F1464 F1463

F1443

F1453

F1448

F1450 F1467

Figure 4.14. Kilverstone, Area A

F68

F66

F67 F173

F151

F175

F133

F149 F159 F150

F137 F139

F138 F152

F176

F128

F136

F146

F135 F134

F122

F129

F130 F112

F163

F143

F158

F110

F123

F164

F162

F147 F165

F1

F101

F132

F104 F102 F121

Unexcavated

F120

F166 F167

F169

F27

F168 F95

F172 F106

F144

F70

F63 F65 F86

F75

F81

F47

F42 F46 F45

F124

F111 F116 F118

F119 F117 F145

10m

F24 F29

F26 F23

F83

F161

F94 F38 F39

F37 F18 F20 F48 F16 F19 F40 F31F87 F61 F3 F8 F32 F69 F74 F34 F78F33 F9 F82 F41 F4 F7 F13 F22

F126

0

F171

F64

F98

F107

F89

F90

F30 F35

F80

F127

F108

F160

F71

F62 F79

F76 F115

F91

F100

F96

F114

F154 F155

F153

F73

F109 F131

F142

F105

F140

F141

Figure 4.15. Kilverstone, Area E

Pits without finds are shown not filled

42

F36 F11 F12 F17

F44

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC The following case study firstly presents a detailed description of the archaeology, discussing cross-site variability at a variety of scales. Secondly, the study moves on to a more interpretive phase, using the material from the site to address many of the questions concerning the dynamics of deposition raised during the previous section. The final section investigates the site’s historical development, discussing how it may have come to take the form that it did.

contain later archaeology). The implications of the existence of ‘empty’ pits are discussed in more detail below. Whilst different features could vary considerably in certain respects (size, contents, etc.), in other ways they were actually very uniform in character (particularly in terms of the dynamics of their filling). As a result, the following description of a single pit, whilst on the one hand highlighting the particularities of a single feature, on the other illustrates more generally the character and dynamics of most of the pits at Kilverstone.

The pits and the material within them F19 was located towards the south-eastern corner of Area E (Figure 4.15). Slightly larger than its nearest neighbours, it measured 0.80 x 0.75m in plan on the surface, and like many other pits its dark grey-black upper fill stood out clearly against the surrounding natural yellow sand. Before its excavation, a sherd of pottery and several flint flakes could be seen emerging above the machined surface of the feature. Whilst most of the pits nearby intercut, F19 was isolated, separated from its nearest neighbour by a distance of 0.20m.

Individual pits The pits at Kilverstone were generally relatively small (an average of 0.70m in diameter and 0.23m deep). All were circular or oval in plan, bowl-shaped in profile with very steep or vertical sides and gently rounded or flat bases. The largest measured 1.60 x 0.75 x 0.45m deep, the smallest was 0.29 x 0.14 x 0.17m. It is possible that some had been truncated to a limited degree. Many had steep or vertical sides and ‘clean’ sculpted shapes, despite the fact that they had been cut into a very soft sandy subsoil.

In order to gain a very detailed understanding of the dynamics within a pit, F19 was dug in 5cm spits, each accompanied by an individual plan (reproduced in Figure 4.16). Each potsherd and flint was bagged separately and given a number, their locations recorded on the plan; the positions of hazelnuts were also plotted. As Figure 4.16 clearly shows, although finds were more densely concentrated towards the centre of the pit, the upper and lower parts were by no means empty: artefacts were distributed throughout the pit’s fills, horizontally and vertically. Finds were often clustered together in groups, but did not have the appearance of having been ‘placed’. Pot sherds and flint flakes were found at many different angles, suggesting that they had been tipped or dumped in.

The vast majority of the pits contained a selection of material, including pottery, worked and burnt flint and stone, and burnt organic material (charcoal, charred hazelnut shells and seeds). No bone was recovered, presumably as a consequence of post-depositional factors relating to the acidic sandy soils. Artefacts were found distributed throughout each pit, rather than on the base, suggesting that they had been deposited within a soil matrix. The fills consisted mostly of mid-brown silty sands and dark, charcoal-rich deposits. A number of pits were found which contained no artefacts at all (22 in Area A, 7 in Area E). In all other respects these were identical to the Earlier Neolithic pits around them: they shared similar forms and fills, and in several instances clearly ‘fitted’ very well spatially within certain clusters. On the strength of these formal and contextual associations, it was decided that the ‘empty’ pits would be included as Earlier Neolithic features, despite the fact that their date cannot be guaranteed (both areas did

Avge. diameter No. of pits % of pits

1-30 cm 3 1

31-60 cm 70 30

The presence of tiny chips of worked flint (identified as a result of sieving) suggested that this material had been scooped up en masse from its previous context, rather than selected piece by piece. Small lumps of charcoal and other charred residues adhered to the surfaces of much of the pottery. The hazelnuts were sometimes found in

61-90 cm 124 53

91-120 cm 38 16

121+ cm 1 0

Total 236 100

Table 4.7. Summary of pit sizes at Kilverstone

Total quantity Max. per pit Avge per pit No. of pits containing each material

Pottery (no.) 2352 171 10 144

Flint (no.) 13205 1184 58 193

Burnt flint (g) 46880 5375 201 173

Hazel-nuts (g) 589 94 2 118

Querns/ rubbers (no.) 10 3 6

Table 4.8. Summary of finds from the pits at Kilverstone (see also Appendix 2)

43

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION concentrations, often within a particularly dark, charcoal-rich lens also containing burnt flint. The feature had the appearance of having been filled with dumps of cultural material within a soil matrix, which was sometimes similar to the natural subsoil but more often darkened by the presence of charcoal and burnt material.

‘midden’ material, perhaps collected from a context with lower densities of artefacts and charcoal.

The majority of pits (89%) contained one fill only; none contained more than three. Of course, the pits identified as having single fills need not necessarily have been filled by a single dump of material; separate dumps from the same (or a very similar) source may not have been visible in section. In cases where more than one fill was identified, the pit’s section invariably suggested rapid backfilling, rather than gradual, cumulative infilling.

Pit clusters F19 and F22 were situated among the densest concentration of pits in Area E, Cluster Q (Figure 4.18). The cluster’s primary phase (defined stratigraphically) consisted of a number of smaller pits dug in a regular, rectangular shape. Later, this neat formation was superimposed by a number of other pits towards the south-western corner, perhaps followed by F19 and F22. Clearly, a complex developmental history underlies this small group of features. Overall, there was considerable variability in terms of the forms that clusters took. Whilst many were relatively well defined (the pits within them spaced closely together, and separated from the next cluster by several metres), others were more diffuse; there were also a few ‘isolated’ pits which did not clearly fall within any particular grouping. The clusters also varied considerably in terms of the number of pits within them, containing between three and seventeen features. Interestingly, what might be called the ‘developed’ clusters, with larger numbers of pits, varied noticeably between the different excavation areas. Those in Area A were tightly grouped and often clearly intercutting, but showed no particular regularity of form. By contrast, several of the ‘developed’ clusters in Area E were very regular in terms of their layout, forming distinctly rectangular groups of very similar sizes (Figure 4.19); where the pits intercut, they did so only slightly.

F22, which contained three fills, has been illustrated as an example (Figure 4.17). The section shows two or three large dumps, rather than numerous thin, horizontal layers. Towards the bottom right, a mid-brown sandy silt can be discerned; it contained no artefacts, and probably represented an initial dump of backfill (possibly the soil dug out to create the pit in the first place mixed with topsoil). The largest fill is a very dark, grey-black sandy silt with a high charcoal content; this contained the majority of the pit’s finds, and presumably represents a dump of what is often termed ‘midden’ material (see discussion below). The pit is capped by a slightly less dark, grey-brown silty sand, which contained smaller quantities of finds; this may also have been

The impressions gained during excavation of spatial and material coherence between pits in the same cluster suggested that they could provide a useful starting point from which to begin the post-excavation artefactual analysis. Over the course of finds analysis, it became clear that many of the pits which had been grouped together on the basis of spatial proximity could also be grouped on the basis of shared

44

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC

material assemblages (i.e. flint and pottery re-fits). The concept of the pit cluster was shown to have considerable relevance beyond simple spatial proximity. The implications of the material connections between clusters are discussed in detail below.

issues, a quantitative analysis of artefact patterning across Areas A and E was undertaken. The variables investigated in relation to each pit included: the basic quantities of each material type, the number of pots, the mean sherd weight, feature size (volume), and the ‘density’ of selected artefact types. Quantities of material The fact that there was considerable variability in terms of the quantities of material within pits was clearest in relation to the twenty-nine ‘empty’ but nevertheless probably Earlier Neolithic pits. This category comprised 5% of the features in Area E and 25% of those in Area A. In Area E, they showed no obvious distributional patterning, being located at various points across the site, and occurring in different types of clusters or in isolation. The ‘empty’ pits in Area A were also found right across the site and in different types of clusters; it is interesting to note, however, that half of them were situated in a diffuse band which ran from north to south across the eastern side of site. Amongst the pits which did contain artefacts, there was also significant variability. Some features contained large amounts of material, whilst others produced relatively little (Figure 4.20). At the site level, there was no obvious patterning in this sense; no one part of either excavation area had a higher number of pits containing lots of pottery, for example. A similar picture of variability was evident at the level of the pit cluster; there was no single cluster which

Cross-site variability Whilst the site was characterised by a certain uniformity in terms of the kinds of artefacts deposited, there was also considerable variability between features in terms of the quantities and distributions of finds. In order to address these 45

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

Pottery (No. of sherds)

0 1-10 11-50 51+

0

20

metres

Flint (No.)

0 1-10 11-50 51-200 200+

Figure 4.20. Quantities of flint and pottery in Area E, Kilverstone

46

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC stood out because every pit within it contained a small amount of flint, for example. In fact, this picture of cross-site variability might itself be seen as the only clear pattern; almost without exception, every cluster contained a broad spectrum of pit types, in terms of the amounts of material each pit contained. When the quantities of each different material type in individual features are compared, the picture is also one of significant variability. The presence of large amounts of one material within a pit certainly did not ensure the presence of large amounts of all of the other material types. For example, several of the pits containing the largest amounts of pottery contained only an average amount of flint, and vice versa. Similarly, although charred hazelnut shells and burnt flint tended to be found together, the relative quantities of each in a particular feature were by no means always comparable; some of the pits with large quantities of hazelnut shells did not contain large amounts of burnt flint, and vice versa.

due to the similarities in size and shape of certain pits within certain clusters (discussed above); Clusters K, U and X stood out particularly well in this regard. However, it is important to note that even within such relatively uniform clusters there was usually still a considerable amount of variability. Generally, as with quantities of finds, every cluster contained a broad spectrum of pit types, in terms of volume. Quantities of material and pit size In terms of the relationship between both factors (i.e. pit size and artefact numbers) a certain amount of patterning was also evident at this stage of analysis (see also below). Generally, the majority of the larger finds assemblages were found in the larger pits, whilst the majority of the smaller assemblages were found in the smaller pits. This was, however, by no means a hard and fast rule; for example, while many of the pits in Cluster B were large in terms of both size and amounts of material, those in Cluster L were large in size but contained only low or average numbers of artefacts. Given the fact that many of the smallest pits simply could not physically have contained the larger assemblages of finds, the pattern whereby larger features tended generally to contain larger numbers of finds could be seen as somewhat inevitable; in a certain sense, the size of each pit can be seen as a ‘bias’, affecting the amount of material put into that feature. The generally close relationship between pit sizes and artefact quantities raises several important issues in relation to the character of the source material put into pits. In an attempt to focus this investigation of patterning more directly onto that source material, consideration of the ‘bias’ of feature size was taken into account during a second stage of analysis, which looked not at overall numbers but at the ‘densities’ of finds in different sizes of pit.

Interestingly, within broader artefact categories, there were some points of correspondence. There was a notably close match between amounts of burnt and unburnt flint; almost all of the pits with large quantities of burnt flint also contained large quantities of unburnt flint, and vice versa. In terms of the pottery, where there were large numbers of vessels, there did tend to be a relatively large amount of pottery (this could perhaps be seen as a slightly self-fulfilling pattern). Looking in the opposite direction, however, larger quantities of sherds by no means always resulted in the presence of large numbers of vessels. There was no obvious patterning relating to mean sherd weights. Pit sizes In terms of pit sizes, there was a degree of spatial patterning,

9

Area A PT Area A FL

8

Area E PT Area E FL

7

Artefacts per litre

6

5

4

3

2

1

0 0

100

200

300

400

Pit volume (l)

Figure 4.21. Densities of flint and pottery relative to pit size, Kilverstone

47

500

600

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION Figure 4.21 compares the numerical densities of flint and pottery in each feature (i.e. the number of artefacts per litre of fill) against the volume of that feature. What the plot shows very clearly is that the largest pits do not have the highest densities of finds. In fact, in both excavation areas and in both material categories, the pits with the highest finds densities are actually relatively small in terms of volume. It is possible that this pattern has important implications as to the character of the source material, and the way in which different sizes of pits were filled. These issues, along with all of the others set out in this section, are addressed in full in the ‘pre-pit contexts’ section below.

forthcoming monograph forthcoming).

(Knight

in

Garrow

et

al.

The finds Pottery In total, 2352 sherds of Mildenhall pottery (weighing over 25 kg) were recovered. 144 of the pits contained pottery, 82 did not; those that did produced between one and 171 sherds (an average of 10 sherds per pit). During the pottery analysis, we aimed to establish the basic character of the assemblage; to identify individual vessels and how much of each vessel was represented; to assess the condition of the material (in terms of pre-depositional processes such as abrasion, burning, etc.); and to use re-fitting (particularly between pits and clusters), in order to track the locations of vessels across site. The assemblage was laid out in its entirety in the same spatial order as it was found on site, reflecting the original spatial relationships between pits and pit clusters. As a result, it was very easy to move from pit to pit, and cluster to cluster, investigating the material connections between different features (Figure 4.22).

A variety of vessel forms were represented, including decorated carinated bowls, simple straight sided or neutral forms, S-profiled forms with or without accentuated shoulders and small open bowls/cups (Figure 4.23). The pots had basically four different rim diameters: c. 0.28m, c. 0.20m, c. 0.15m and c. 0.11m. With rare exceptions, decoration was restricted to the finer, carinated, highly burnished vessels. While the decorative schemes were in many ways remarkably consistent, each vessel was unique in terms of its overall design. An attempt was made to estimate the number of actual vessels present. Different vessels were identified on the basis of distinctive rim types, forms and decorations; undistinctive, plain body sherds were not assigned separate vessel numbers. Sherds which did not actually re-fit were nevertheless assigned to the same vessel when they clearly shared the same decorative scheme, fabric, etc. This was, of course, a slightly subjective process, and for that reason a distinction was maintained between ‘actual refits’ and ‘sherds probably from the same vessel’. A total of 151 different vessels were identified (45 from Area A, 106 from Area E); 25 of these were decorated, 126 were not. The assemblage contained fresh, abraded and burnt sherds. Many of the sherds were in excellent condition; some had weathered surfaces and 27% had been burnt, to different degrees. Significantly, sherds which had been affected in different ways were often found side by side in the same contexts, indicating that they had already been transformed prior to deposition (Figure 4.24). Many pots showed signs of previous use, with charred material, presumably acquired in the course of cooking, adhering to the external surfaces of sherds.

The assemblages from Areas A and E are described together below. Most of the arguments which follow, however, are based largely on Area E, as the sheer size and excellent condition of the material there allowed a very good understanding of the processes leading to the site’s creation. The following section is based on the pottery report from the

48

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC

Area A Area E Total

No. pits with pottery 43 101 133

No. pots 45 106 151

No. sherds 585 1767 2352

Weight 3,670g 21,771g 25,441g

Mean sherd weight 6.3g 12.3g (10.8g)

Table 4.9. Basic details of Kilverstone pottery assemblages

There were no indications that pots had been deliberately smashed, and it is likely that they were broken during the course of everyday living. The proportion of each vessel represented within the pits varied considerably: some were identified on the basis of single, distinctive sherds, whilst others were almost complete. Overall, it is perhaps fair to say that, in most cases, between a quarter and a half of each vessel had ended up being deposited in the pits.

broken a new pit was dug, the relationship between them is close, perhaps indicating a shared tempo in the attrition of pots and the creation of pits.

A concerted attempt was made to identify sherds which refitted (or were ‘probably from the same vessel’), both within and between pits. Many re-fits were established between sherds in the same feature. A substantial number were also identified between sherds in different pits. Importantly, as Figure 4.26 clearly shows, these connections were made exclusively between pits in the same cluster. Despite extensive searches, no such links could be made between pits in different clusters. In certain instances, sherds from different vessels could be traced around a cluster. Interestingly, the number and weight of sherds from particular vessels were observed to decrease gradually around some of the clusters, suggesting that the pits may have been dug in spatial and temporal sequence (see discussion below).

Across the site as a whole, variations in terms of rim and shoulder types were apparent. These did not, however, form a consistent cline from one side of either site to the other, or between areas; while these differences may have been a result of ‘stylistic drift’ over time, it is impossible to be sure. Interestingly, Areas A and E produced very different mean sherd weights. It is possible that this may have been a consequence of the quicker ‘processing’ of material in one place than the other (this, along with many other important issues raised by the pottery analysis, is discussed in more detail within the main discussion below).

Another interesting point to note within the assemblage was the close correspondence between the number of pots, and the number of pits (Figure 4.25). Although the uneven distribution of pots in pits (especially in Cluster K) prevents any interpretation that would suggest that as each pot was 49

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

Area A Area E Total

No. pits with flint 65 128 193

Total no. flints 2781 10424 13205

fitting), as well as the general character of the assemblage. Like the pottery, the assemblage from Area E was laid out in its entirety in the same spatial order as it was found on site.

No. tools/ utilised pieces 131 337 468

This section is based on the flint report from the forthcoming monograph (Beadsmoore in Garrow et al. forthcoming). The vast majority of the assemblage could be characterised as working debris. In all, 9866 flakes, blades and chips, 326 cores and 77 core rejuvenation flakes were recorded, suggesting that large amounts of flintworking had taken place on site. In addition, a range of tools and implements were found (3.54% of the whole assemblage). The tool types represented were: retouched/utilised flakes and blades, scrapers, piercers, burins, polished axe fragments, bifacially flaked ‘choppers’ and leaf-shaped arrowheads. All of the material appeared to be locally derived.

Table 4.10. Basic details of Kilverstone flint assemblages

Flint In total, 13205 flints were recovered. 193 of the 226 pits contained flint, with numbers varying between 1 and 1184 per pit (an average of 58.4 per pit). The flint analysis attempted to address similar issues to the pottery, investigating the attritional processes affecting flints prior to deposition and the material links between pits (through re50

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC The condition of the flint varied considerably: some pieces were very fresh, whilst others were heavily weathered and worn, suggesting that they had been exposed to a degree of wear and damage between production and deposition. Overall, there was a large amount of burnt flint; much of this had been worked before being burnt, suggesting that it may have been caught up inadvertently in fires after use, rather than having been burnt for a particular purpose. As with the pottery, time was made available for re-fitting, and the fact that the entire assemblage was laid out together made it very easy to move from pit to pit, investigating material connections.

activities, and often burnt; grain ground on quernstones and, along with hazelnut shells, occasionally charred. At another level, the specialist reports address several specific processes, particularly the taphonomic factors that affected artefacts before deposition, and the ways in which those artefacts were then deposited. The more general level of activities is taken up later in the chapter, whilst the secondary, more specific level is addressed below. It should be made clear at this stage that pottery and flint play a leading role in the following discussion. The other materials (worked and burnt stone, charred plant remains), either because of their inherent nature or small overall numbers, did not always elicit as much about the dynamics of the site; they are nevertheless brought into the discussion wherever possible.

Although all stages of the reduction process were represented, not once was anything like a complete knapping sequence found, suggesting that substantial amounts of material had not made it into the pits. In total, 49 groups of re-fitting pieces were identified within the assemblage. 40 of these occurred within individual pits, whilst 8 were found in different pits within a cluster (Figure 4.26). A single re-fit was made between pits in different clusters (in Area A). Interestingly, in a few cases, re-fitting sequences could be tracked sequentially around a pit cluster (see discussion below).

Incomplete assemblages The first aspect to emerge from a consideration of the different specialist reports together is the fact that not once was the whole of one pot or a complete knapping event – the original source of the artefacts within pits – recovered, even in a fragmented state. Amongst the pottery, a number of pots are represented by only one sherd, many by fewer than ten; in only one case is it suggested that even close to all of one pot may have been present. A similar situation was identified within the flint, where not once was it possible to reconstruct the whole of one knapping sequence, despite the fact that, overall, all stages of the reduction process were represented.

Worked stone and plant remains Thirteen worked stone fragments were recovered from nine earlier Neolithic pits in Areas A and E (Table 4.8). These included quernstones, rubbers and pestles (made from sandstone of probably local origin), as well as two fragments of polished axe. The polished axe fragments are likely to derive from the well-known Langdale stone extraction site in the Lake District. The remainder of the worked stone, like the flint, was almost certainly obtained locally. The presence of quernstones and rubbers on site suggests that crops were processed on or close to site.

A number of reasons for these incomplete assemblages can be posited. Certainly, some of the pits may have been truncated; artefacts were distributed throughout features from top to bottom, and if the upper parts of these had been lost, so too would many of their contents. However, truncation does not appear to have been especially severe (definitely affecting only a few pits) and therefore cannot be blamed entirely for partial finds assemblages. Other explanations must be considered. It seems that whilst pots were broken, they were not simply swept up immediately and deposited. Similarly, each episode of flint knapping was not collected in its entirety and tipped straight into a pit. The relationship between the creation of material and its deposition does not appear to have been straightforward.

The samples taken from the pits produced a variety of charred plant remains, including hazelnuts, wheat, barley and a selection of arable weeds. Hazelnut shells dominated the assemblage, occurring in large numbers in many of the pits. Despite the fact that the total numbers of preserved seeds was relatively low (unsurprising on a site of that date located on sandy subsoils), the proportion of pits containing plant remains was high. Cereal grains were found in 23 of the 47 samples taken (mostly wheat, with some barley). It seems therefore that both wild and cultivated resources played a role in people’s diets at Kilverstone. Several of the arable weeds were diagnostic of sandy soils, and it is certainly possible that the crops were grown on or close to the site.

Pre-depositional processes The physical processes affecting artefacts prior to deposition were also similar across all of the assemblages. Substantial amounts of both pottery and flint had been altered to varying degrees by burning and weathering. Similarly, hazelnuts and other seeds had only been preserved due to charring. Amongst the pottery, some sherds were burnt slightly, whilst others had been severely affected by heat. Amongst the flint, a similar pattern could be discerned: while most burnt pieces had probably been purposefully heated (in the process of cooking, to create temper for pottery, etc.), some were only

Synthesis and discussion of finds The specialist reports which precede this synthesis discuss in detail a number of processes and activities that took place on or around the site. At one level, they touch upon the various general tasks in which different artefact types were involved: pots used and broken; flint knapped, used in various 51

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION very lightly cracked, perhaps suggesting somewhat more incidental burning. Within both materials, burning was in some cases very localised, with different parts of individual sherds or flints affected to very different degrees. Amongst the hazelnuts, those which may have been more completely burnt or unaffected by heat would not have survived archaeologically. Occasionally, burnt stones were also recovered, usually surrounded by charcoal and burnt flint.

section also picks up several of the questions raised as a result of the ten-site analysis. Pre-pit contexts It has been assumed throughout this analysis that the material within the pits was generated during the course of living on site, and there is certainly nothing within it to suggest otherwise (although, of course, complete pots, some flint cores, etc. were probably brought in from elsewhere).

The pottery and flint had also been affected to different degrees by weathering: a number of flints had been severely frost-shattered (before deposition), while many sherds’ surfaces had been eroded. Crucially, in the case of both pottery and flint, burnt or weathered pieces could be directly re-fitted with unburnt or unweathered pieces. This implies that between the breakage of pots or the knapping of flint, and the deposition of material within pits, there appears to have been a delay, during which some artefacts were subjected to heat or left open to the elements.

The processes affecting artefacts prior to deposition have been described in some detail already. Between the initial ‘creation’ of material (i.e. pots being broken, flints knapped), and its subsequent placement within pits, there appears to have been a stage of ‘delay’. The fact that burnt/weathered sherds and flints could be re-fitted with unburnt/unweathered ones suggests that they had been transformed after breakage, but prior to deposition. The post-breakage, pre-pit context of the material was, then, a place where broken pots, the debris produced by flint-knapping, food remains, and other materials were accumulated. The fact that much of the material was weathered suggests they it had been left there, out in the open, for some time; the fact that much of the material was burnt suggests the presence of fires or hearths nearby (a notion borne out by the presence of burnt material in most deposits). The exact nature of these pre-pit accumulations is difficult to describe. It is possible to imagine an area where the ‘mess’ of broken pottery and flint debris, hearths and cooking, hazelnut shells and un-needed burnt flint were perhaps contained within demarcated ‘zones’. The artefacts that ended up nearest the fire would have been burnt, whilst those further away would not; those that ended up underneath others were protected from the weather, while those on the surface were exposed. Sherds would have been trampled, and flints trodden into the soft sandy soil, leading to ‘incomplete’ assemblages. The material links between pits suggests that these areas were relatively limited in size, with different clusters of pits receiving material from separate pre-pit sources.

Re-fits The patterning in terms of re-fitting was also similar across different material types. Unusually large sherd sizes, especially within Area E, ensured that the potential to re-fit pottery was as good as, if not better than, that for flint. Within both assemblages, numerous re-fits were established (Figure 4.26). Importantly, these were made, almost without exception, between pits in the same cluster. Despite concerted attempts, no re-fits within the pottery, and only a single re-fit within the flint (which may have been residual), were established between pits in different clusters. The processes behind deposition ensured that parts of the same pots, and parts of the same flint working sequences, often ended up in separate pits within a cluster, but – with a single exception – never in separate clusters. These links existed within widely-spaced, diffuse clusters, and neatly-defined, spatially discrete ones alike; and in clusters with small numbers of pits as well as large ones. In summary, it seems that while pits within spatially discrete clusters were closely linked, the different clusters were not. The implications of this patterning, which indicates that the pit cluster is perhaps the key level at which to understand Areas A and E, are discussed in detail below.

In an attempt to try and locate one or more of these pre-pit accumulation areas, topsoil sampling was carried out above and around Area E. At nine locations evenly spaced across the excavated area, and eight locations around it, a 90 litre sample of topsoil was hand sorted for artefacts. One sample point east of Area E produced 17 possibly Earlier Neolithic pieces, the rest between 1 and 7. No pottery was recovered. Whilst the sample point with a relatively high density of flints could represent the traces of a pre-pit accumulation surviving within the ploughsoil, it is impossible to be certain (with hindsight, it would have been preferable to have defined any potential artefact concentrations more accurately by sampling the area more intensively). In summary, therefore, despite one potential ‘hotspot’, no definite evidence of any surviving pre-pit accumulations were located.

The dynamics of deposition The following discussion of the dynamics of deposition is split into a number of different sub-sections, which reflect the different levels at which the site can be understood. As the progression between them reflects the development of the site itself (beginning with the collection of material before deposition, ending when all of the pits had been excavated and filled), the structure of the earlier part of this chapter is reversed. In the section which follows, we move spatially from individual pits, to pit clusters, to groups of clusters, to the landscape as a whole, and temporally. Whilst dealing specifically with the material recovered at Kilverstone, this

During the quantitative and spatial analysis of the material within Areas A and E, the ‘densities’ of finds in different 52

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC features were considered alongside basic quantities, in order to facilitate an investigation of the pre-pit sources. A likely explanation for the lack of correlation between the densities of different materials within individual features is that there were considerable fluctuations in the amount of material available for deposition within the pre-pit context. In this light, it is important to consider the existence of two parallel, but uneven, ‘tempos’ to life at Kilverstone. The first is the tempo at which different materials were accumulated in the pre-pit context. This in itself was probably a relatively complex process. While all artefact types seem to have been accumulated together, they almost certainly did not accumulate at the same rate (the breaking of pots may well have happened at a different rate to creation of flint knapping waste, etc.), and so the ‘accumulation of material’ tempo was itself probably comprised of a number of different rates. The second tempo is that at which pits were excavated and filled. It is argued below (see ‘formation of clusters’ section) that the pits within a cluster were dug and filled sequentially, probably during the course of each occupation of the site. If this was indeed the case, it is clear that the tempo of pitfilling may not have corresponded at all closely with the tempo(s) at which the various different materials were accumulated. Consequently, when one hypothetical pit was filled, there may have been lots of all materials available in the pre-pit context; as a result, it would have ended up being categorised in this analysis as ‘dense’ in terms of both pottery and flint. When the next hypothetical pit was filled, it is possible that whilst lots of flint had been knapped, no further pots had been broken; as a result, that pit would have been categorised as ‘sparse’ in terms of pottery (a few sherds may have been left from before), but very dense in terms of flint. Very little material at all may have been created before a third hypothetical pit was dug; as a result, it would have been ‘sparse’ in terms of both pottery and flint. ‘Empty’ pits may have been dug at a time when there were no (nonorganic) artefacts at all in the pre-pit context. The fact that, sometimes, only very small amounts of material (and, in the case of ‘empty’ pits, possibly none at all) were buried could suggest that it was the physical deposit as a whole (soil, charcoal, etc. included), or even the process of filling or burying, rather than the actual artefacts, that was of primary importance.

the photograph of just such a large pit (F22), in Figure 4.17). As a result, the pattern whereby only smaller pits contained the densest assemblages emerged. The pits themselves Before discussing the details of deposition at Kilverstone, it is perhaps worth considering the character of the pits themselves in detail. The first important point to note is that not one of the pits actually produced positive material evidence indicative of any specific previous ‘use’ (e.g. in situ pots, basket impressions, clay linings, signs of a cover, the ‘boxes’ visible in section at Broome Heath (Wainwright 1972), etc.). Furthermore, none showed signs of erosion through use, either at the sides or base: the vast majority had very steep or vertical sides and ‘clean’ sculpted shapes. The fact that the pits’ forms had been so well maintained, in what was an extremely soft sandy subsoil, suggests that they were dug and backfilled within a fairly short space of time. Whilst it is conceivable that they were used for some purpose and then re-excavated before being filled with material, this seems unlikely. In light of these points, the weight of evidence appears to suggest that the pits were dug purely to receive cultural material (see Chapter 2). The existence of ‘empty’ pits need not necessarily be seen as problematic in this respect. The fact that they were devoid of surviving artefacts (they may, of course, have contained organic material, including bone which did not survive well) does not necessarily imply that their contents were not considered to be ‘cultural material’. They certainly often contained very dark fills, suggesting that they may well have been taken from an artefactually sterile part of the same pre-pit context. In summary, although a previous ‘use’ for the pits cannot be entirely discounted, it must be emphasised that ultimately there was no positive evidence to suggest that they did have one. Deposition within pits As we have seen, it can be argued that each of the pits at Kilverstone was dug and backfilled immediately, as part of a single process. The artefacts within them were not arranged piece by piece, but dumped within a soil matrix usually darkened by charcoal. It seems that fills were scooped up wholesale from the usually artefact- and charcoal-rich, prepit context described above, and placed into pits. As a result, the spoil taken out of the ground to create the pits in the first place cannot have been reinstated; this may have been taken elsewhere or left as a small mound next to, or on top of, each pit.

One further pattern to consider, which emerged as a result of the detailed density analysis, is that although the larger finds assemblages were generally found in larger pits, the densest finds assemblages were found in smaller pits (Figure 4.21). A possible explanation for this pattern can be found in the relationship between pits and the pre-pit sources which ‘supplied’ them. It is possible that only a limited amount of material was ever deposited in any pit, either because that amount was considered appropriate in some way, or because there was only ever that much available in the pre-pit context. As has been discussed, at times that material would have been artefactually dense. It is conceivable that the amount deposited entirely (or mostly) filled the smaller pits, but only ever partly filled the larger ones. In this case, small pits could be totally filled with dense material, whilst larger pits always had to be ‘topped up’ with a deposit which was inevitably sparser (in this light, it is interesting to reconsider

There appears to have been no single category of finds, or quantity of material, required to fill each pit. Some features contained large amounts of material, others very little, whilst a sizeable proportion were completely devoid of artefacts (but not necessarily ‘cultural material’). Similarly, many features contained very different amounts of each material type (Figure 4.20); large amounts of pottery, for example, 53

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION were not always matched by large amounts of flint. Generally speaking, the largest assemblages were found in the larger pits, although this was by no means a hard and fast rule, and could be seen as a somewhat inevitable ‘bias’ (see discussion above). Ultimately, it seems that there was no ‘recipe’ determining what should go in a pit. It has been suggested that the lack of clear distributional patterns (in terms of the quantities of finds) should not be seen as complete randomness, and that in fact such cross-site variability might be seen as a very clear pattern in itself, reflecting the fluctuations of life in that place. At Kilverstone, deposition was not about the selection of specific artefacts. The process of depositing material in general, however, may well have been a considered and important act.

is confirmed: the first flake in F176, the second in F146, the third and fourth in F149, the last (the core) in F159. It is important to note at this point that, in previous discussions, it has usually been assumed that pits were dug either at the end of each occupation (as a form of ‘closing deposit’ designed to negotiate abandonment of the site, or in anticipation of future returns), or at the beginning (see Chapter 2). The evidence at Kilverstone suggests a different interpretation: that each cluster of pits may well have been dug throughout the course of occupation. It seems fair to assume that there would have been a certain tempo to this sequential pit digging process (as discussed above). It is difficult to establish at exactly what pace this occurred. Interestingly, the number of pits at Kilverstone corresponds very closely with the number of pots that were broken, particularly in Area E. Although it is not being suggested that there was any direct correlation between the two factors (people did not simply break a pot and as a result dig a pit), the two separate occurrences do appear to have shared a similar rhythm. The loose connection at Kilverstone between the breakage of pots and the digging and filling of pits does provide us with a way of thinking through the pace at which pits were created.

The creation of clusters While the importance of the pit cluster as a level of analysis at Kilverstone has been well-established, it is not yet fully clear how each cluster came into being. Both the temporal and spatial aspects of their formation must be considered. The fact that pits were linked by parts of the same pots, and parts of the same flint working sequences, suggests that each was formed within a fairly close time-frame (there was no evidence for long-term, intentional ‘curation’ of objects). The issue of how short that time frame would have been is very difficult to ascertain, and of course may have varied from cluster to cluster. Importantly, the fact that in some cases features clearly intercut, creating ‘stacks’ of pits (e.g. Cluster AA, Area A), proves that, within those, the excavation of a cluster was not simultaneous. In other cases, pits had been dug immediately adjacent to – but not into – each other, a fact which could also imply a temporal separation, with one pit dug in respect to another that was already there, and still visible. Interestingly, patterns within the material strongly support the argument that the pit-digging process was sequential. Figures 4.27a and b illustrate the occurrence of sherds from one particular pot within Cluster B, Area E. Sherds from that vessel were present in five of the nine pits: 93 pieces (1282g) were located in F146, 23 (167g) in F149, four (30g) in F151 and two in both F159 (17g) and F175 (9g). As the arrows indicate, these diminishing sherd numbers could suggest a clockwise spatial and temporal trajectory, with the pot ‘entering’ the sequence as a lot of material in the cluster’s second pit, and ‘finishing’ as a little material in the seventh and eighth pits. As sherds do not usually have an inherent temporality (the breaks between them rarely indicate sequence) it is possible that the arrows should point the other way: the pot may have entered the sequence as a few pieces, but finished as a mass of sherds. Flints, on the other hand, often do have an inherent temporality: through re-fitting it is possible to approach the issue of sequence. Figure 4.27c plots the occurrence of one particular re-fitting working sequence in the same cluster. In this case, the numbers within the pits represent the sequence by which flakes were removed. The clockwise directionality implied by the pottery

The majority of pit clusters did not show any particular coherence in terms of their internal spatial patterning. 54

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC However, a few clusters do appear to have built-up in a highly structured manner: in Area A some of the pits form distinctly linear arrangements, while in Area E a number of rectangular pit groups of very similar sizes stand out (particularly Clusters B, K and Q). This regularity is extreme enough to require explanation.

Scenario 3 involves repeated visits, by one group, or even a small number of groups of people, digging a cluster each visit over what may also have been a relatively long period. Scenario 1 is a spatial explanation. It explains the separation of clusters relatively simply, but is problematic for three reasons. First of all it is hard to imagine, for example, up to eighteen groups of people (there are eighteen clusters) fitting themselves and/or their accumulated settlement debris into somewhere the size of Area E. Secondly, it is not totally clear how, at such a large gathering, people would have been able (or why they would have chosen) to keep their material so rigidly separate, whilst occupying the site contemporaneously. Thirdly, while of course we must remain open to new ‘types’ of site, the fact that large communal gatherings have more usually been associated with the bounded, monumental spaces of causewayed enclosures must be considered.

It is possible that these regular pit clusters were constructed around or within something now archaeologically invisible. The immediately obvious suggestion is that they were dug around structures of some kind. However, the clusters’ maximum internal dimension of 2.25m suggests that, if they were related to structures, these must have been very small. It is worth noting that, of the thirty-seven Early-Middle Neolithic buildings identified by Darvill (1996, 88-9), only a single example would actually fit within one of the pit clusters at Kilverstone. It is also possible that they were dug around other ‘settlement’ features. However, the evidence from Cluster Q refutes this, as a few later pits appear to have been dug inside one initial, neatly-formed rectangular cluster (i.e. where any settlement feature would have been). Another alternative is that the pits were dug immediately around the pre-pit ‘dirty’ area described above. This suggestion explains very simply the material connections between the pre-pit context and the pit clusters. However, it is slightly less clear how, if there was such a direct and physically close link between the two, so much of the original material assemblages were lost between pre-pit context and pits (see section on ‘incomplete assemblages’ above). This interpretation would also require the pre-pit context to have been very small in size. A final possibility is that these regular forms came about because the development of some clusters was ‘managed’ more closely than others; as a result, already-established linear relationships between pits were perpetuated. It has been argued that the pits within each cluster were dug as a sequence. This temporal linearity may, in some cases, have been consciously expressed in spatial terms as well, producing rows of pits.

Scenarios 2 and 3 both present a temporal explanation for the separation between clusters. In the case of Scenario 2, while a situation where numerous pits and many separate accumulations of debris were in use at the same time is possible, it seems somewhat unlikely, and encounters similar problems to Scenario 1. Unfortunately in relation to both scenarios, nothing within the material could shed any light on such temporal distinctions. All of the C14 dates were very tightly grouped within a time bracket of 3650-3400 cal. BC, and no clear difference between clusters, or even between areas, could be discerned. It seems that the temporal resolution which they provide was simply much coarser than any temporal separation which may have existed in the past between clusters. The fact that the resolution provided by C14 dates is usually coarser than the temporality of settlement is an issue which affects the study of occupation practices throughout the Neolithic and EBA. While the absolute dates can help us to bracket the lifespan of occupation in terms of centuries, they cannot be used to investigate finer distinctions. It also proved impossible to elicit patterns which may have been related to change through time within the pottery assemblage: there was no obvious cline in the distribution of decorated sherds or types of decoration.

Groups of clusters The relationship between the pit clusters was one of spatial and material separation: each cluster was (a) spatially separate from the other clusters, and (b) had its own internally coherent assemblage of material. This separation requires explanation. Essentially, three alternative scenarios can be put forward. For the sake of clarity, only the clear-cut options will be outlined here; it is important to bear in mind that various combinations of two, or all three, of them would also have been possible. The crucial issues at stake are the scale and temporality of occupation.

Scenario 2 suggests that the pits were dug over the course of many years of permanent settlement on the site. If this was the case, the spatial separation between clusters does not require any particular explanation; the location where pits were dug could have shifted over time for any number of reasons. The material separation is slightly more problematic, although it is possible that on such a settlement, if the pit clusters were moved annually for instance, the accumulations of debris may have been shifted as well. Although this interpretation of the site as a permanent settlement is certainly possible, it encounters a major problem in the lack of any evidence for permanent structures. In recent years, the absence of permanent structures in the Neolithic has generally been used to argue that there was an equivalent lack of permanent occupation (see Chapter 2). At Kilverstone, the amounts of material culture (155 broken pots, for example) certainly suggest that people lived there

Scenario 1 involves a single visit by multiple groups of people who, whilst digging a cluster, kept themselves spatially (and materially) separate. Scenario 2 involves permanent occupation by a single group of people, digging pits in different places over the course of many years.

55

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION for a substantial amount of time overall. However, despite the fact that some of the spaces between pit clusters were big enough to have housed archaeologically invisible structures (see below), none were found.

The first option centres around an archaeologically invisible obstacle of some kind. Possible candidates for these unseen features are the ‘middens’ or ‘pre-pit contexts’ discussed above, uncleared vegetation or trees and buildings built without deep post-holes. The ‘midden’ idea is certainly possible. In order for the gaps to have been maintained, certain areas would have had to be allocated to the storage of ‘rubbish’ over the course of several clusters/visits. If so, the material created during separate visits must have been kept very rigidly separate, within a fairly confined space, in order for there not to have been at least some cross-cluster connections. This interpretation also comes up against the fact that, in all but one of the topsoil sampling points in between the pits, very little material was found. The notion that the gaps arose as a result of the presence of uncleared trees or some other vegetation is certainly possible, but difficult to prove. The suggestion that the gaps were created due to the presence of (archaeologically invisible) buildings is certainly a possibility. In support of this argument, it is interesting to note that the two best-defined ‘blank’ areas (south of Cluster U in Area A, and east of Cluster G in Area E) are both distinctly rectangular, and at 9 x 7m and 15 x 15m both large enough to have housed many of the known Earlier Neolithic buildings listed by Darvill (1996). However, against this argument, it is important to point out that there was no discernible patterning in terms of the distribution of artefacts around the ‘blank’ areas; if those pits had been associated with buildings, it might be expected that those pits would stand out as different in some way.

Scenario 3 suggests that the site can be understood as the result of long-term, but not continuous, occupation. As with Scenario 2, the material and spatial separation between clusters is viewed as the product of temporal separation. What is different is that this temporal gap relates not just to the digging of pits, but to occupation of the site as well. Visits by a single group, or a number of different groups, at irregular intervals, every season, every year, or even less often, are possible options. This alternative certainly fits very comfortably with current interpretations of Earlier Neolithic settlement practices. It also fits well with the evidence recovered. It may well have been the case that, when visiting the site, people could indeed discern previous pit clusters, and that for some reason they chose to avoid those material remains; as a result, separate, materially distinct clusters would have formed. It is possible that the differences in the numbers of pits and amount of material within clusters reflect differences in the duration of separate occupations of the site. Similarly, patterns within the flint assemblage, where certain tool types were strongly represented in particular clusters, could suggest that different tasks were carried out during different visits. In conclusion, although all three scenarios can be used to explain the material and spatial separation of the clusters, it is possible to evaluate the comparative likelihood of each interpretation. Scenario 1 – a spatial explanation – is perhaps the least likely, for a number of reasons. Scenarios 2 and 3 – both temporal explanations – are more likely. Scenario 2 comes up against the problem of the lack of evidence for permanent structures, whilst Scenario 3 arguably explains the material best of all. It is important to stress that, ultimately, the difference between Scenarios 2 and 3 need not have been that great.

Ultimately, it is very difficult to argue strongly in favour of any of these scenarios because no positive material evidence for their existence was recovered. In this light, one final option – that the gaps in between represent areas of ground into which pits were not cut because they persisted as areas set aside for other activities – should certainly be considered. The ‘alignment’ of clusters Aspects of the ‘layout’ of pits in both excavation areas display a certain degree of spatial patterning beyond the level of the cluster, which requires explanation. The site plan for Area E, once viewed as a whole, exhibits a certain amount of cohesion in terms of how the pit clusters relate to each other. Although the patterning is by no means perfect, the clusters could be seen as reflecting a roughly ESE-WNW/NNE-SSW alignment. This orientation is also evident in the rectilinear shapes of the regular ‘developed’ clusters (B, K and Q). While the pit clusters in Area A are not obviously patterned in relation to each other in the same way, it is worth noting that the rectangular space in between them (discussed above) is also aligned ESE-WNW.

Overall site ‘layout’ Up until this point, the focus of discussion has been very much on the pits, the clusters they form, and the artefacts buried within them. This section aims briefly to shift the focus of inquiry towards the overall site ‘layout’. Two separate aspects of the site’s wider spatial arrangement need to be considered: the spaces in between the pits, and the possible ‘alignment’ of some of the pit clusters. The ‘spaces in between’ Despite the fact that both Areas A and E were extremely densely pitted, several large gaps in the distribution of pits were discernible (see Figures 4.14 and 4.15). Although such an exercise is inevitably somewhat speculative, it is perhaps worth considering a few possible reasons why and how these ‘spaces in between’ may have come about.

It has been argued that the pit clusters in both excavation areas built up over what may have been a relatively lengthy period of time. If the ESE-WNW alignment is indeed real, it is important to consider the reasons why such an orientation persisted throughout that period. It is clear from Figure 4.13 that this alignment does not relate to the immediate topography. Explanation must therefore be sought in terms of 56

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC some other structuring aspect of the local landscape. Due to the fact that no such features were recovered archaeologically, this exercise is again inevitably somewhat speculative. The first possible explanation looks to the immediate vicinity, linking back to discussions above. It is conceivable that, if the site did actually contain relatively permanent (but archaeologically invisible) houses, or other settlement features, these may have served to orientate the ‘layout’ of any clusters dug in the immediate vicinity. The second possible explanation looks slightly further afield. It is possible that the pits at Kilverstone were dug originally within a localised clearing. If so, it seems quite possible that such a clearing may have been maintained throughout the period over which the pits were created. If this clearing was rectilinear in form, and aligned ESE-WNW, it may well have provided a relatively long-term orientation for the site.

to deposition. One explanation is that the sherds in Area E were subject to a shorter ‘delay’ (between initial breakage and deposition) than those in Area A. Buried sooner, the sherds in Area E would have been less subject to processes of attrition (weathering, trampling, etc.), and would therefore have remained relatively large; those in Area A, left outside for longer, would have been more subject to breakage, and therefore smaller. The reason for this difference between the areas in terms of the speed at which material was ‘processed’ is difficult to ascertain. It is possible that Area E was simply more intensely, or more regularly, occupied than Area A. Summary The material culture recovered from the pits at Kilverstone suggests that it was a place which fits well with the image drawn up in the earlier part of this chapter. Many of the ‘typical’ Neolithic activities can be discerned: flint was knapped, pots used and broken, fires lit; cereals were processed and wild resources eaten, and we can probably assume that domestic animals were kept. Due to the acidic and abrasive sandy soils, unfortunately there was little environmental material from which to gain insight into the surrounding landscape. However, the presence of charred wheat and barley grains, along with several arable weeds and holly, certainly does not contradict current models of settlement in the Earlier Neolithic, which suggest small-scale agriculture within localised woodland clearances (see Chapter 2).

In light of the fact that neither option can proved, perhaps the most important thing to take from this discussion is the realisation that, whatever the reasons, Neolithic practice appears to have been carried out in relation to a persistent site- or landscape-scale structuring dynamic. Over time, of course, the pits themselves may have become a part of this dynamic, structuring practice through their physical presence. Areas A and E The fact that Areas A and E might best be seen as ‘windows’ into a wider archaeological landscape was raised at the beginning of this section. While it is certainly possible that the two excavation areas actually represent a small sample of an extremely large site (i.e. the pit distributions caught within the two areas join up), the fact that all of the trenches around them were devoid of features suggests that this probably was not the case. Whatever the situation, the two groups were indistinguishable in many senses (in terms of C14 dates, morphology, fill types, the types and styles of the artefacts they contained, etc.).

It is important to note that the key issues raised as a result of the ten-site analysis – pre-pit contexts, pit clusters, the historical development of the site – have also played a crucial role in terms of the narrative for Kilverstone. The picture we have of the site involves persistent occupation. It has been suggested that this occupation was repeated, sometimes longlasting, but not continuous. The critical factor used to support this interpretation was the material separation between the different clusters. It has been argued that this material separation came about as a consequence of a temporal separation, each cluster being the result of one visit to the site.

Nevertheless, a few key differences between the two areas were observed, which are worth discussing in more detail. The fact that a few of the clusters within Area E were notably more formalised in their layout than any within Area A has already been mentioned. Similarly, it has been noted that the pits within Area A had been cut into earlier features more often than those in Area E, where the pits seemed instead to abut each other by design. Within the flint assemblage, burins were found exclusively in Area A whilst borers were found only in Area E, suggesting that different tasks may have been undertaken in different places, and possibly also at different times. It may also be significant that within Area A there were far more ‘empty’ pits than in Area E.

If this interpretation is correct, it is clear that in many ways the pit cluster can be seen as the fundamental level at which the site should be understood. While the collections of clusters in Areas A and E can of course also be seen as entities in their own right, it has been argued that, ultimately, what we see today on both sites is a palimpsest of separate (cluster-related) occupations. The isolated features and small clusters may well have been created during relatively short visits. The ‘developed’ clusters, however, are the signature of a very different kind of occupation. The large amounts of material they contain, and the sometimes complex sequence of pit digging they represent, suggest that those places became the focus of relatively long-term settlement. In this light, it is worth considering the fact that cereals may well have been grown, as well as processed, close to site. As discussed above, the cultivation of cereals does not necessarily require year-round attention, but if people were

Possibly the key difference between the two areas was seen in the size of the pottery. While the mean sherd weight for Area A was 6.0g, that from Area E was 12.3g. As the fabric and vessel types from both areas were indistinguishable, the difference in sherd size between the two assemblages can be seen as reflecting a difference in the histories of sherds prior 57

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION growing crops there, they would have been committed to being in that place, at particular times of the year, for certain amounts of time.

Most of the larger sites were characterised by the presence of distinct pit clusters; in a number of cases, the fact that pits within the same cluster contained sherds from the same vessels, and re-fitting flints from the same nodule, indicated that these had been filled with material from the same source.

It is important to reiterate that the difference between ‘repeated’ and ‘permanent’ occupation need not always have been great. The fact that it was difficult to demonstrate conclusively which of the three occupation scenarios outlined above lay behind the creation of the pits need not necessarily be seen as a problem, and can in fact be viewed as a positive factor which actually tells us something about the character of that occupation. It is possible that we cannot evoke a single explanation because there was no single, unchanging mode of settlement behind the site’s creation. The evidence from Kilverstone arguably fits best with interpretations which suggest that Neolithic settlement, at different times and in different places, was characterised by a variety of different scales and temporalities of occupation.

In many ways, the most noticeable difference observed between sites was in terms of their overall spatial layout. The distances between clusters, and the forms that those clusters took, varied more between sites than within them. Significantly, pits on the same site tended to be more similar in shape/size than those on different sites. The fact that the pits on each site maintained certain forms implies a significant degree of continuity, over what may have been substantial lengths of time. At Kilverstone, the case was made that while the groups of pits in each area could in some ways be seen as meaningful entities, what we were really looking at were palimpsests of separate, cluster-related occupations. It is likely that the same is true of other sites as well: at Spong Hill and Hurst Fen, re-fits were noted within clusters but not between them, whilst pairs of pits at Barleycroft shared the same fabric types.

4.7. Earlier Neolithic pit sites: conclusions Earlier Neolithic pit sites have been shown to be similar in many different respects, irrespective of their size or geographical location. The patterning in terms of their landscape situations that was picked up in Chapter 3 was echoed at a more detailed scale in this chapter: in terms of their local situations, almost all of the sites were in relatively elevated positions, just above the floodplain of the nearest river. The observation that those sites which did not conform to these patterns produced very few pits is interesting. If the number of pits on a site does bear some relation to the length of time that site was occupied, it seems significant that those which were sited far from a water source or on heavier soils were occupied for the short lengths of time and did not see repeated visits.

As a result of this demonstration of the fundamental importance of clusters, it no longer seems appropriate to compare sites directly in terms of overall pit numbers. Those differences may have come about simply as a result of the fact that each site was visited a different number of times – they are quantitative rather than qualitative. Although it would be too simplistic to suggest a straightforward relationship between the number of pits or clusters on a site, and the length or number of time(s) that each was occupied, the amounts of material on each do suggest a broad correspondence: sites with larger numbers of pits do tend to have larger numbers of vessels, etc. Interestingly, even the two smallest sites, with single pits, produced ten and four vessels each, suggesting that while their archaeological signature was certainly very ephemeral, they too might have been occupied for relatively substantial amounts of time.

On many sites considered in this chapter, pits were the primary archaeological signature of occupation during this phase. Despite the fact that, in most cases, at least a few postholes were recorded in association with pits, the only entirely convincing structure found was at Padholme Road, Fengate (interestingly, another Earlier Neolithic structure was excavated – unassociated with any contemporary pits – at the Co-op Site, Fengate (Gibson 1998)). In the three instances where pits were found in association with more substantial features, no clear spatial or temporal relationship between them was discernible. As a result, it is possible to suggest that pits were a signature of occupation which was, perhaps not separate, but certainly distinct from and not dependant on, other contemporary features.

This investigation has shed important light on the nature of settlement during the Earlier Neolithic. It is clear that occupation could occur – and pits could be dug – in a variety of contexts: within the C-shaped enclosure at Broome Heath, next to the oval enclosure/barrow at Yarmouth Road, inside and around the causewayed enclosure at Etton, or away from other contemporary features at Kilverstone and Longham (for example). On many of the sites considered in this chapter, the presence of post-holes hinted at the possibility of ephemeral structures. However, the total absence of buildings at Kilverstone, and on other sites which had clearly witnessed significant occupation, suggests that a direct relationship between a lack of structures and ephemeral settlement cannot simply be assumed, as it often has been in the past.

The kinds of artefacts deposited within the pits on all ten sites were also comparable; in most cases these suggested that a wide range of activities had taken place. The pre-pit contexts from which those deposits derived also appear to have been very similar: across the board, artefacts (essentially, the rubbish created during the course of each site’s occupation) appeared to have been ‘stored’ for a while prior to deposition along with charcoal and other material, becoming weathered and sometimes burnt in the meantime.

As discussed in Chapter 2, there has been a tendency within much recent work to remain vague when discussing the temporality of Neolithic and EBA settlement. A number of writers have suggested that the lengths of occupation may have varied considerably, ranging from a few days to several 58

4. EARLIER NEOLITHIC years (e.g. Whittle 1997; Edmonds 1999; Pollard 1999). These suggestions, which have sometimes been put forward without good supporting evidence, have at times come across as perhaps too vague, provoking occasionally extreme reactions (e.g. Rowley-Conwy 2003; 2004). This study has shown, by looking at the material evidence from pits, that those writers were essentially right to paint a slightly vague picture. The character, permanency and scale of occupation does appear to have varied considerably, from place to place, and over time in the same location. It is possible, for example, that sites like Hall Farm Reservoir or Longham witnessed single, relatively short occupations. Others, however, like Kilverstone, Hurst Fen, Spong Hill and Broome Heath, seem to have been re-occupied many times over. The scale and longevity of these re-occupations may have varied significantly, from visits perhaps involving a handful of people and lasting a few days or weeks (generating two or three pits and relatively little material) to those which perhaps involved many more people, and lasted months or even years (generating twelve or fifteen pits and large amounts). The fact that even sites with small numbers of pits were located on easily cultivable soils, close to water, etc. implies that most sites where pits were dug had the potential to persist as ‘settled’ places. However, for a variety

of reasons (many no doubt entirely contingent), not every place ‘took off’, as a place, in the same way. The implications of this study for our understanding of deposition during the Earlier Neolithic are also significant. It was emphasised in Chapter 2 that, in order to make an effective case arguing that pit deposits were indeed meaningful, the presence of ‘special’ objects within them has often been stressed (e.g. Pollard 1993, 198; Thomas 1999a, 66). In East Anglia, during the Earlier Neolithic at least, artefacts which might be viewed as ‘special’ in this way simply do not seem to have been deposited in pits: there are no complete polished axes, human remains, neat bundles of animal bones, etc. Without exception, pits were filled with dumps of a matrix that included soil, charcoal and broken, weathered and burnt artefacts, which had not clearly been arranged or even selected for deposition. It appears, therefore, to have been the process of depositing this material, rather than the individual artefacts themselves, that mattered. Consequently, approaches which have stressed the effect of pit digging – in terms of the creation of material memories, and of people’s relationship to ‘place’ (e.g. Thomas 1996a) – rather than its specific meaning, fit most comfortably with the evidence at this time.

59

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

Chapter 5. Peterborough Ware relatively small in terms of pit numbers, variability was not nearly as extreme as in the previous chapter: Barleycroft H represents the largest site found so far. With regard to the different sub-styles of Peterborough Ware, it is interesting to note that Ebbsfleet is not represented at all amongst this sample of ten sites; the fact that Ebbsfleet is rarely found in pit contexts has been noted before (Thomas 1999a, 111). No obvious differences, in terms of numbers of pits, site locations, or indeed any other variable, were discernible between sites associated with either Fengate or Mortlake pottery.

5.1. Introduction This chapter follows the same structure as Chapter 4. Initially, the analysis operates at three different scales, investigating in turn the ten sites, the pits on those sites, and the material within them. These findings are then summarised, and the central issues which arose as a result of the regional study in Chapter 3 – whether we can actually treat pit sites during each phase as a single category, what kind of places those sites were, how they related to other elements of the contemporary landscape – are taken up once again. The Case Study deals with a site (the eleven pits found at Barleycroft Site H) which is very different in scale to that of the previous chapter, a fact which in itself says something important about the character of both phases. The final section concludes by considering what can be said, overall, about pit sites during the Peterborough Ware phase. It is important to bear in mind that in Chapter 3, Peterborough Ware sites did not fit well with general trends. One of the key issues under discussion is why those sites should have been so much smaller in terms of pit numbers than in the previous phase, and consequently whether that implies that they were also very different in character.

Variation in terms of the sites’ excavation and publication dates was also more limited than in the previous chapter, with nine of the ten sites either published since 1990 or still awaiting publication. The fact that the site reports were brought out within this fairly narrow time frame seems to have ensured that in most cases relatively similar interpretations were put forward. The point made in the previous chapter – that on sites where fewer pits are found, less time is generally given over to interpretations of those pits – was borne out well, and discussions were usually fairly short. At Brancaster, the site published longest ago, it was argued that, although their function could not be determined, the pits probably related “to a domestic occupation, albeit temporary” (Hinchliffe 1985, 16). In all of the other reports, the idea that pits related to some form of domestic occupation was also present, explicitly or implicitly.

As before, the ten sites were selected specifically to represent a broad cross-section of all Peterborough Ware sites, in terms of geographical location (Figure 5.1) and overall pit numbers (Table 5.1). Due to the fact that all of the known sites are

60

5. PETERBOROUGH WARE Site name Barleycroft (Site H) Brancaster Middle Harling Fengate Co-op Redgate Hill Hinxton Quarry Kilverstone (Area A) Barleycroft (Site I) Little Bealings Yarmouth Road

No. pits 9 (+ 2) 4 4 2 2 1 (+ 1) 1 (+ 1) 1 1 1

County Cambs. Norfolk Norfolk Cambs. Norfolk Cambs. Norfolk Cambs. Suffolk Norfolk

Pottery sub-style Fengate & Mortlake Mortlake Fengate Mortlake Mortlake Fengate Fengate Mortlake Mortlake Fengate

Other contemp. features 2 tree throws None None None None None None None None (E. Neo. oval enclosure)

References Evans & Knight in prep. Hinchliffe 1985 Rogerson 1995 Gibson 1998 Healy et al. 1993 Mortimer & Evans 1996 Garrow et al. forth. Evans & Knight in prep. Martin 1993 Robertson 2002

Table 5.1. The ten Peterborough Ware sites discussed in Chapter 5. The numbers in brackets represent pits which did not contain pottery (and hence were not included in Chapter 3), but were clearly ‘paired’ with pits which did. It was considered important to incorporate these features at this more detailed level of investigation (see discussion below).

Little mention was generally made of the pits’ function, but the idea that the deposits themselves may have been “formal” (Middle Harling, Redgate Hill), “selected” (Fengate) or “deliberate” (Hinxton) was put forward in several cases. The sections which follow investigate whether or not this interpretive uniformity actually reflects a wider uniformity in terms of the character of those sites.

very well, indicating “a landscape of open woodland disturbed by human activity” (Healy et al. 1993, 70). The spatial relationships between pits on each site The fact that Peterborough Ware sites only ever produced small numbers of pits meant that the potential for significant variability in terms of the overall spatial ‘layout’ of sites was limited, and that clusters were unlikely to be as strong a factor as in the previous chapter. Interestingly, however, on all of the sites which produced more than one feature, pits were grouped closely together, almost without exception, in pairs (see Figures 5.2-5.6). Interestingly, the pairing of Peterborough Ware pits has been noted elsewhere in Britain as well (e.g. Haughton & Powlesland 1999, 24).

5.2. Site-scale analysis The local landscape situations of sites One of the main conclusions of Chapter 3 was that pit sites tend strongly towards being close to rivers, and on relatively low lying ground. In Chapter 4, the evidence outlined in relation to Earlier Neolithic sites not only supported this assertion, but indicated that an even more specific preference for particular topographic locations – locally elevated positions just above the floodplain of the nearest river – could often be discerned, at a more detailed level. The Peterborough Ware sites considered in this chapter show, if anything, even stronger tendencies towards such locations.

The eleven pits at Barleycroft H could clearly be divided into four pairs, separated from each other by up to 80m, and three ‘single’ pits (two of which may also have been part of a pair; see Section 5.6). The four pits at Brancaster were spaced closely together in a rectangular formation, within which a distinct element of ‘pairing’ could be discerned. The picture was the same at Middle Harling. On all of the sites with two pits (Fengate Co-op, Redgate Hill, Hinxton and Kilverstone), those pits were also closely spaced in pairs rather than separated by large distances. On two sites (Middle Harling and Redgate Hill), spatial pairings of pits were also reflected materially, with sherds from the same vessel found in both features. Given that pairs were usually so clearly defined in spatial terms, it is perhaps surprising that more material connections were not made (although the generally low amount of pottery overall was not conducive to the establishment of re-fits). As a result of the presence of pit pairs, the ten Peterborough Ware sites can perhaps be seen as possessing a degree of uniformity that the sites in the previous chapter lacked.

All of the sites were certainly on low lying ground, as not one was higher than 50m OD. Eight of the ten sites were less than 300m from a river, Middle Harling was 800m away; Brancaster, despite being 4km from a river, was directly next to the sea. At a more detailed scale, topographic trends similar to those seen in the previous chapter emerged: although in an overall sense the sites were low-lying, in terms of their immediate landscape they were found in locally elevated positions: with the exception of Brancaster, every one was on higher ground next to a river floodplain, or on a gravel terrace at the edge of the fen. As before, it can certainly be argued that these locations could be seen as conducive to settlement. In relation to geology, nine of the sites were located on sand and gravel; the tenth, Redgate Hill, was on chalk. Although the different subsoil had had no discernible impact in terms of the character of the site, it did affect the preservation of environmental evidence. As most sites are on acidic sandy soils, detailed environmental data are not usually available, and so it is impossible to tell what kind of place (grassland, woodland, etc.) pits would have been situated in. At Redgate Hill, however, snails survived

Site descriptions Barleycroft (Site H): the main excavation area at Barleycroft Site H was L-shaped, measuring approximately 150 x 150m. Seven of the eleven pits were found within the main area, the other four in trenches nearby. Four definite ‘pairs’ of pits were discernible.

61

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

a. Barleycroft Site H (plan taken from primary site archive) (see also Figure 5.10)

Tree throws

0

20m

b. Brancaster (after Hinchliffe 1985, Fig. 11)

0

Figure 5.2. Barleycroft H and Brancaster

62

20m

5. PETERBOROUGH WARE

a. Middle Harling (after Rogerson 1995, Fig. 7)

0

20m

b. Co-op, Fengate (after Gibson 1998, Fig. 3)

0

Figure 5.3. Middle Harling and Co-op, Fengate

63

20m

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

a. Redgate Hill (after Healy et al. 1993, Fig. 6)

0

20m

b. Hinxton (after Mortimer & Evans 1996, Fig. 3)

0

Figure 5.4. Redgate Hill and Hinxton

64

20m

5. PETERBOROUGH WARE

a. Kilverstone, Area A (after Garrow et al. forthcoming)

0

b. Barleycroft Site I

No original plan available

Figure 5.5. Kilverstone Area A and Barleycroft Site I

65

20m

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

a. Little Bealings (after Martin 1993, Fig. 34)

0

20m

b. Yarmouth Road (after Robertson 2003, Figs 4 & 5)

Oval enclosure

0

Figure 5.6. Little Bealings and Yarmouth Road

66

20m

5. PETERBOROUGH WARE Brancaster: the main excavation area at Brancaster measured approximately 100 x 55m. The four pits were grouped very closely together towards the centre of the site.

features dated to the Earlier Neolithic. It is certainly possible that the oval mortuary enclosure at Yarmouth Road may still have been a prominent feature when the single later pit was dug, especially if it was accompanied by an earthwork. Although, according to the C14 dates, the Peterborough Ware pits at Kilverstone were dug possibly as little as 150 years after the ‘Mildenhall’ pits described in Chapter 4, the earlier features almost certainly would not have been visible still. On neither site was there any clear spatial relationship between the features from different phases.

Middle Harling: the excavated area at Middle Harling measured 40 x 35m. The four pits were found towards the western edge of excavation, in a neatly spaced rectangular group. Fengate Co-op: three sites were excavated at Fengate Co-op within an area measuring approximately 150 x 120m. The two pits were found close together towards the northern edge of Trench 6. Redgate Hill: the main excavation area at Redgate Hill measured approximately 90 x 85m. The two pits (an intercutting pair) were found towards the southern part of the excavation.

5.3. Feature-scale analysis

Hinxton: the excavated area at Hinxton measured 300 x 185m. The two pits were found in a closely-spaced pair, near the western edge of excavation.

This section takes the analysis to a more detailed level, shifting scales from the sites themselves to look at variability in terms of individual features.

Kilverstone (Area A): Area A at Kilverstone measured 40 x 40m. The two pits were found 2m apart, towards the centre of the excavation.

Individual pit sizes All of the pits covered within this chapter were circular or oval in plan (some more regularly shaped than others). Tables 5.2 and 5.3 give an impression of the different sizes. Generally, Peterborough Ware pits were slightly wider but shallower than their Earlier Neolithic counterparts. The vast majority (97%) measured between 0.50 and 1.50m in diameter, and none were over 2.00m in width; 96% were less than 0.50m deep, and none were over 1.00m.

Barleycroft (Site I): Site I at Barleycroft measured approximately 200 x 150m. The single pit was situated towards the southern part of the site. Little Bealings: the excavated area at Little Bealings measured 110 x 60m. The single pit was found in the south-eastern corner of the site. Yarmouth Road Quarry: the excavated area at Yarmouth Road measured 260 x 200m. The single pit was found towards the centre of the site.

Avge. diam. No. of pits % of pits

The relationship between pits and other contemporary features

1-49 4 11

50-99 16 42

100-149 17 45

150-199 1 3

200+ 0 0

Table 5.2. Summary of Peterborough Ware pit diameters (cm)

Investigations into the relationship between pits and other contemporary features in Chapter 4 were forced to confront the fact that, in the absence of clear stratigraphic relationships, it is usually difficult to be sure of any connections between pits and other features (even when pottery evidence suggests that they would have been roughly contemporary). In this section, we barely need to consider such problems for the basic reason that, with a single exception, pits simply were not found with other contemporary features. It seems that, during the Peterborough Ware phase, pits were not usually associated with (archaeologically visible) structures of any sort, or indeed any other type of feature. The exception was Barleycroft H, where two tree throws were excavated in the vicinity of the pits. One of these produced substantial amounts of material, the other only a very small amount. While they had been formed naturally, the tree throws clearly acted as a focus for deposition which was similar in character to that in the pits nearby; their role is discussed in more detail in Section 5.6. On no other site were any features contemporary with the pits found.

Avge. depth No. of pits % of pits

1-49 27 96

50-99 1 4

100-149 0 0

150+ 0 0

Table 5.3. Summary of Peterborough Ware pit depths (cm)

Figure 5.7 shows every feature in terms of diameter and depth (data was available for all but two of the pits). The uniformity is striking: all of the pits fall within a very restricted size range, with only one (at Kilverstone) standing out as slightly larger than the rest. While, admittedly, the sample size is small, there is certainly nothing like the variability in terms of size seen in the equivalent diagram in Chapter 4 (Figure 4.9). 5.4. Material culture-scale analysis Despite considerable discrepancies in the overall amounts of material that each chapter deals with, many of the patterns identified in this section are actually similar to those highlighted in the Earlier Neolithic phase. The following discussion aims, therefore, to draw comparisons between the

It is worth pointing out that at Yarmouth Road and Kilverstone, Peterborough Ware pits were found close to 67

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

180

160

140

Barleycroft H Brancaster

120

Depth (cm)

M. Harling Fengate Co-op

100

Redgate Hill Hinxton

80

Kilverstone A Barleycroft I

60

Little Bealings Yarmouth Rd

40

20

0 0

50

100

150

200

250

300

350

400

Diameter (cm)

Figure 5.7. Range of pit sizes on Peterborough Ware sites

two phases where they exist, but also to bring out differences if at all possible.

possible to tell, finds had not been specifically selected (in a direct sense) for deposition, and it seems that large proportions of the material originally generated on site did not make it into the pits for more prosaic reasons (see discussion below). In terms of the pottery, the proportion of individual vessels represented was very low (usually much less than a quarter). In terms of the flint, although all stages of the knapping process were represented, nothing like a complete sequence was recovered. The fact that we are dealing with low numbers of pits, which in most cases contained relatively small assemblages (Table 5.4) which themselves represent a partial sample of the original material generated on site, makes it difficult to be entirely confident when assessing the character of each site on the basis of the material alone.

How artefacts had been deposited The ways in which pits had been filled, and artefacts deposited, were very similar to the Earlier Neolithic phase. If anything, the Peterborough Ware phase is even more uniform in this regard, as there are no exceptional sites along the lines of Broome Heath where depositional processes appeared to be completely different. None of the site reports mentioned any arrangement of material within the pits: finds had been dumped within a soil matrix rather than carefully placed into the pits. No pits showed signs of having been ‘used’ for some other purpose prior to the deposition of artefacts, nor had any been significantly eroded or weathered prior to backfilling. As a result, they had few fills: twenty-one (72%) contained one fill only, six (21%) contained two, the remaining two (7%) had three (this variability in terms of fill numbers was spread between sites rather than confined to one or two). It is likely that the pits had been dug and backfilled relatively quickly. Generally, pit fills were similar to those in the Earlier Neolithic, although, as a whole, descriptions placed less emphasis on their blackness, suggesting that they did not contain as much burnt material.

It can be seen very clearly in Table 5.5 that the Peterborough Ware flint assemblage as a whole is extremely similar in composition to that in the Earlier Neolithic, adding weight to the suggestion that specific artefacts had not been selected for deposition (see discussion in Chapter 4). Pieces associated with flint working dominate, with cores, hammerstones, chips, chunks, unretouched/unutilised flakes and blades making up 95.9%; utilised/retouched/serrated flakes and blades 2.6%, and formal tools 1.5%. The variability between sites, however, is much greater than in Chapter 4. While the over- or under-representation of particular artefacts has in the past been used to suggest that particular things were selected for deposition (Cleal 1984; see also Chapter 6), in this case, due to the fact that sample sizes are so small, we must be careful. In fact, the discrepancies between sites can be explained entirely as a consequence of small sample sizes, and of subtle variations in terms of the character of each place. For example, at

Types of artefacts It is important to stress first of all that, as in the Earlier Neolithic, on every one of the ten sites, the assemblages recovered from the pits were partial: whole pots, complete knapping sequences, etc., were not found. As far as it is 68

5. PETERBOROUGH WARE

Barleycroft (H) Brancaster Middle Harling Fengate Co-op Redgate Hill Hinxton Kilverstone Barleycroft (I) Little Bealings Yarmouth Road

Pits (no.) 11 4 4 2 2 2 2 1 1 1

Pottery (no.) sherds vessels 97 15 12 9 48 9 12 4 5 2 14 2 26 3 78 5 2 2 1 1

Flint (no.) 68 928 8 144 69 6 20

Burnt flint y y ? y y

Bone y y -

H’nut shell y y y -

Cereals, etc. unid. n.s. n.s. aw b n.s.

Querns/ rubbers 2 q. frags -

Table 5.4. Summary of finds from Peterborough Ware sites (b: barley; aw: arable weeds; unid.: unidentified cereal; ns: not sampled) Cores Barleycroft (H) Brancaster Middle Harling Fengate Co-op Redgate Hill Hinxton Kilverstone Barleycroft (I) Little Bealings Yarmouth Road Total E. Neo. total

1.5 (1) 3.6 (33) 0.0 (0) 5.6 (8) 10.9 (6) 0.0 (0) ? 4.0 (48) 2.5

Flakes, blades, chips, etc. 73.5 (50) 94.6 (878) 87.5 (7) 86.8 (125) 81.8 (45) 83.3 (5) ? 91.8 (1110) 93.9

Hammerstones 0.0 (0) 0.0 (0) 0.0 (0) 0.0 (0) 1.8 (1) 0.0 (0) ? 0.1 (1) 0.1

Ser’d/ret’d flakes/blades 19.1 (13) 0.9 (8) 0.0 (0) 6.3 (9) 0.0 (0) 16.7 (1) ? 2.6 (31) 2.1

Scrapers 1.5 (1) 0.6 (6) 12.5 (1) 1.4 (2) 1.8 (1) 0.0 (0) ? 0.9 (11) 1.0

Arrowheads 0.0 (0) 0.2 (2) 0.0 (0) 0.0 (0) 3.6 (2) 0.0 (0) ? 0.3 (4) 0.1

Other tools 4.4 (3) 0.1 (1) 0.0 (0) 0.0 (0) 0.0 (0) 0.0 (0) ? 0.3 (4) 0.3

Table 5.5. Composition of the Peterborough Ware flint assemblages (% in bold, totals in brackets)

Redgate Hill, the high percentage of scrapers could easily be an artificial construct of low sample size as it refers to a single piece out of a total of eight. By contrast, the assemblage at Middle Harling (by far the biggest with 928 pieces) contained such large amounts of flint working debris that the presence of six scrapers and two arrowheads within the three pits is disguised when shown as a percentage.

were used and deposited. Generally, only small amounts of burnt flint were found, a fact which supports the suggestion made in relation to the fills that less burnt material made it into pits during this phase. In relation to the pottery, as before it seems reasonable to assume that vessels would have been used for cooking, preparing and eating food, and possibly storage as well. Animal bones were found only on two sites: Hinxton produced cow, pig and sheep/goat; at Barleycroft H six unidentifiable fragments were recovered. In addition, mussel shells were recorded at Redgate Hill.

In terms of the different character of separate sites, it is clear that at Middle Harling a large amount of flint working was carried out. By contrast, at Barleycroft, just as in the Earlier Neolithic, relatively little seems to have taken place; as a result, the assemblage contained few cores and a high percentage of tools. The fact that no flint at all was found at Brancaster, Fengate Co-op and Little Bealings is interesting, given that pits generally contain larger amounts of flint than pottery (especially on the two sites where numbers of sherds were not especially low).

Plant remains were similarly scarce, and even hazelnuts were found only on three sites. Of the seven sites sampled for charred material, seeds were recovered only at Barleycroft H (a single unidentified grain), Hinxton (a single arable weed seed) and Kilverstone (a single grain of barley). These slightly disappointing results must be considered in light of the fact that we are dealing with only thirty pits, less than half of which were sampled. At Redgate Hill, two possible quern fragments were found, suggesting that cereals (or other foods) were probably processed there as well. The scant information we do have suggests that, as with the Earlier Neolithic, a mixture of wild and cultivated resources were used and processed on Peterborough Ware sites.

The total absence of flint in the pits on these sites does not necessarily imply that flint was never used or worked; it may simply have been dealt with in a way which did not involve its deposition within pits. In overall terms, on Peterborough Ware sites as with the Earlier Neolithic, a wide variety of flint tools were found, suggesting that a wide variety of tasks were carried out. The fact that there was some site-specific variability suggests that, as might be expected, the particular character of certain places affected the kinds of tools which 69

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION can provide crucial insight into the kinds of places they were. Generally, Peterborough Ware sites produced relatively small amounts of material: the average number of vessels per site was five, the average number of flints (if we exclude Middle Harling) was thirty-five. There tended to be a close correspondence between number of vessels and numbers of pits (see Table 5.4): the average number per pit was similar irrespective of site size, ranging between 1.00 and 2.25 on nine of the ten sites (the exception was Barleycroft Site I, where the single pit produced five vessels). As we have seen already, quantities of flint were much more variable.

The condition of artefacts The condition of the artefacts excavated from the pits was also very similar to that described in the previous chapter. As before, it is difficult to generalise in this regard, because even within individual sites there was some variability in the degree to which artefacts had been affected by attritional processes. Sherds which had been burnt post-firing were noted on two sites (Brancaster and Kilverstone), and burnt flint was mentioned in at least four cases. The pottery was usually both abraded and weathered, and without exception, vessels were represented in very partial form (Figure 5.8); the average number of sherds per vessel was six.

Interestingly, the scale of material we are dealing with on Peterborough Ware sites is actually closely comparable with many of the sites of a similar size discussed in Chapter 4: the finds totals set out in Table 5.4 are broadly comparable with those recovered on the five smallest Earlier Neolithic sites (Table 4.4). The fact that Peterborough Ware sites are comparable, materially, with smaller Earlier Neolithic sites is crucial, suggesting that the tempo at which pots were broken, and pits dug, may have been similar in both phases. If this was indeed the case, the fact that Peterborough Ware sites are universally small, with low numbers of vessels, suggests that – like the smaller Earlier Neolithic sites – they may have been associated only with occupations of relatively short duration, and the places they represent were not usually visited repeatedly. These key issues are discussed in full at the end of the chapter. 5.5. Summary In conclusion, it is important to revisit the three main issues raised in the introduction to Chapters 4-7. The first issue – whether sites can be treated as a single category – is relatively easy to approach, due to the extent of uniformity (at the site, pit and material culture scales) on all ten sites. The only significant ways in which the sites differed was in terms of the number of pits on each, and (to a limited extent) the composition of their flint assemblages. The latter has been explained as a result partly of small sample sizes, and partly of different sites having been associated with different activities (as might be expected in a region-wide study). The former must be considered in the light of the presence of pit pairs on most sites. In Chapter 4, it was argued that different clusters may well have been associated with separate visits to each site. Although it is difficult to prove, the fact that Peterborough Ware pit pairs were sometimes materially as well as spatially coherent suggests that this may well also have been the case with pairs during this phase. If so, larger numbers of pits on any one site would simply reflect larger numbers of visits (see Section 5.6). Overall, then, it seems that it is appropriate to treat Peterborough Ware pit sites as a single category.

In terms of the pre-pit contexts, therefore, we appear to be dealing with a fairly similar situation to that in the Earlier Neolithic. As before, none of the sites were excavated in a way that could really have produced direct evidence of such pre-pit contexts. However, on two sites (Middle Harling and Redgate Hill), sherds from the same vessel were found in more than one pit. Interestingly, the re-fits at Middle Harling were made between pits in what appeared to be different pairs, suggesting that all four features may have derived their material from the same source.

The second issue – what kind of places these sites actually were – is actually the most difficult of the three to approach, simply because the small amounts of material culture involved make it difficult to generalise. As far as it is possible to say, however, the picture is again fairly similar to the previous phase. On most sites, a variety of activities were

Quantities of artefacts In the previous chapter, it became clear that careful consideration of the quantities of artefacts found on pit sites 70

5. PETERBOROUGH WARE undertaken: flint was knapped, pots used and broken, fires lit, etc. Again, sites were located on light, easily-worked soils, close to and just above rivers, fen or the sea. One important difference to note is that occupation associated with Peterborough Ware pits appears to have been smaller in scale (i.e. lasting a shorter length of time or involving fewer people) than on many Earlier Neolithic sites. This important matter is discussed in more detail in Section 5.7.

The archaeology has always necessarily been approached on a very large scale, and the extent of the prehistoric landscape uncovered is impressive. Situated 10km north of Cambridge, Barleycroft lies on the south-western fen edge. The extremely flat, modern-day topography conceals a richlytextured, prehistoric fen edge landscape. At the time the pits were dug, Site H would have been situated on a dry gravel terrace, just above the more clayey wetter ground. The River Ouse, whose course has shifted slightly over the millennia, today runs 300m away to the east. The pits were found through a combination of trenching and open area excavation across an area of approximately 270 x 150m (Figure 5.10). The shape of the excavation was designed to investigate several Later Bronze Age post-alignments. Consequently, in terms of the overall distribution of Peterborough Ware pits, several large areas remained unexcavated; it is possible that others were missed. Eight of the eleven pits were found in pairs. Two of the three ‘single’ features were located in trenches (Figure 5.11), and it is entirely conceivable that these too were part of a pair; the third was found 8m away from one of the definite pairs, and as a result might be considered part of a ‘trio’. In addition to the pits, two tree throws, which had also been a focus for the deposition of material, were found towards the eastern edge of excavation.

The third issue – how pits relate to other contemporary features – is in some ways very simple to address, due to the fact that, essentially, they were found in isolation (at least in terms of visible archaeological features). The fact that structures, or even post-holes, were not identified on any of the ten sites adds weight to the suggestion that the occupation at them was relatively temporary. Even more than in the Earlier Neolithic, Peterborough Ware pits seem to have been very much an archaeological signature of occupation in their own right. Before turning to the next level of analysis, it is important to highlight a number of key questions raised so far in this chapter which need to be explored. We have seen that pits usually come in pairs – it is important to assess the relationship between the pits in these pairs, assessing whether they did indeed relate to individual visits to a site, etc. We have seen that only relatively small assemblages, representing a small proportion of the material originally produced, came to be deposited at each site – it is important to consider why this should have been the case. It has also been suggested that occupation at these sites was relatively short-lived – we certainly need to consider this important issue more carefully. With these questions in mind, we turn to our Case Study.

The site represents the second largest collection of Peterborough Ware pits found so far in East Anglia. At the moment, it is awaiting publication in monograph form (Evans in prep.). However, thanks to the help of the site’s director, Mark Knight, and the fact that most of the specialist work had already been carried out and written-up, enough information was available for me to use the site as a case study. I am extremely grateful to him and the CAU for allowing me to use this unpublished work as a basis for the following investigation.

5.6. Case study – Barleycroft, Site H The pits and the material within them Introduction Individual pits The eleven pits which form the focus of this case study were found in 1997 at Barleycroft Site H, in Cambridgeshire (Figure 5.9). The Barleycroft/Over gravel quarry has seen extensive excavation by the Cambridge Archaeological Unit since 1994, and work is still ongoing there today.

The pits were generally relatively small, circular or oval in plan, bowl-shaped in profile with gently rounded or flat bases. The largest measured 1.10 x 1.10 x 0.14m deep, the smallest was 0.38 x 0.38 x 0.22m (an average of 0.80m in diameter and 0.22m deep).

Figure 5.9. The Barleycroft landscape today

71

72

F1011

Figure 5.10. Barleycroft Site H

F1222

F1228

Tree throws

F1256 Pair C F1248

F1226

F1232

Pair B

F1286

F1036

F1037

Pair A F1044

F1327 Pair D F1335

0

50m

PITS, SETTLEMENT AND DEPOSITION

5. PETERBOROUGH WARE

Avge. diameter No. of pits % of pits

1-30 cm 0 0

31-60 cm 1 9

61-90 cm 6 55

91-120 cm 4 36

121-150 cm 0 0

Table 5.6. Summary of pit sizes at Barleycroft, Site H Pair F1037 F1044 F1286 F1232 F1036 F1248 F1256 F1327 F1335 F1011 F1222 Total

A A B B B? C C D D isolated isolated -

Pottery sub-style Fengate Mortlake ? ? ? ? Mortlake Mortlake Fengate -

Pottery (no.) 30 22 1 3 1 2 7 8 23 97

Flint (no.) 8 3 3 2 1 4 11 2 34 68

Bnt flint/ stone (g) 64 4 52 120

H'nut shell (no.) 6 146 152

Cereals, etc. 1 unid., 1 apple -

Bone (g)