Roman Domestic Wood: Analysis of the morphology, manufacture and use of selected categories of domestic wooden artefacts with particular reference to the material from Roman Britain 9781841713274, 9781407325163

Table of contents :
01. Prelims.pdf
1118 half title.pdf
1118 title.pdf
1118 verso.pdf
John and Erica Hedges Ltd.
British Archaeological Reports
02. Authors Files.pdf
01 outer page.pdf
02 frontispiece.PDF
04 complete abstract text.PDF
05 contents.PDF
06 pic list1.pdf
07 pic list.2.pdf
08 pic list.3.pdf
09 namelist.PDF
10 intro.PDF
11 deposition.PDF
12 combs.PDF
13 cork .PDF
14 shoes .PDF
15 boxes.PDF
16 boxes.PDF
17 pyxis.PDF
18 drilled.PDF
19 bent.PDF
20 table.PDF
21 kitchen.PDF
22 origin.PDF
23 wider.PDF
24 catalogue.PDF
25 plates.PDF
26 cont table.PDF
27 experimental.PDF
28 experimental.PDF
29 experimental.PDF
30 experimental.PDF
31 appendix4.PDF
32 Glossary.PDF
33 biblo.PDF
34 Index.pdf
03. Endpapers.pdf
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Opening Image
ABSTRACTS
TABLE OF CONTENTS
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
INTRODUCTION
1 PRESERVATION AND DEPOSITION
2 PERSONAL OBJECTS: COMBS and ACCESSORIES
3 PERSONAL OBJECTS: FOOTWEAR
4 PERSONAL OBJECTS: LIDDED CONTAINERS
5 HOUSEHOLD ITEMS
6 THE ORIGIN OF MEDIEVAL VESSEL TURNING
7 THE WIDER ISSUES
APPENDIX 1: CORPORA
APPENDIX 2: MAIN ASSEMBLAGES OUTSIDE BRITAIN
APPENDIX 3: EXPERIMENTAL ARCHAEOLOGY
APPENDIX 4: TURNING MARKS - A CHECKLIST
GLOSSARY
BIBLIOGRAPHY
INDEX

Citation preview

BAR S1118 2003  PUGSLEY  ROMAN DOMESTIC WOOD

Roman Domestic Wood Analysis of the morphology, manufacture and use of selected categories of domestic wooden artefacts with particular reference to the material from Roman Britain

Paola Pugsley

BAR International Series 1118 9 781841 713274

B A R

2003

Roman Domestic Wood Analysis of the morphology, manufacture and use of selected categories of domestic wooden artefacts with particular reference to the material from Roman Britain

Paola Pugsley

BAR International Series 1118 2003

Published in 2016 by BAR Publishing, Oxford BAR International Series 1118 Roman Domestic Wood © P Pugsley and the Publisher 2003 The author's moral rights under the 1988 UK Copyright, Designs and Patents Act are hereby expressly asserted. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be copied, reproduced, stored, sold, distributed, scanned, saved in any form of digital format or transmitted in any form digitally, without the written permission of the Publisher.

ISBN 9781841713274 paperback ISBN 9781407325163 e-format DOI https://doi.org/10.30861/9781841713274 A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library BAR Publishing is the trading name of British Archaeological Reports (Oxford) Ltd. British Archaeological Reports was first incorporated in 1974 to publish the BAR Series, International and British. In 1992 Hadrian Books Ltd became part of the BAR group. This volume was originally published by John and Erica Hedges Ltd. in conjunction with British Archaeological Reports (Oxford) Ltd / Hadrian Books Ltd, the Series principal publisher, in 2003. This present volume is published by BAR Publishing, 2016.

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For William, Giulia, Vittoria and Sofia in no particular order

Comb, pyxis and needlecase replicas – scale 20mm (photo by the author).

ABSTRACTS (English) Our knowledge of the Roman domestic scene comes mainly from the material remains i.e. pottery and other finds in non-perishable materials, from the written sources and the iconography. We know precious little about other objects in less durable matter such as wood. One gets almost the impression of being caught in a vicious circle here. Remains of wooden objects are few and far between. They represent the exception rather than the norm in most excavations. They are therefore studied and published (when that happens, which is not always the case) as isolated finds since there is no general framework enabling the researcher to place his or her object in a wider context. There is also no attempt at developing such a tool as if the task was deemed impossible. It is also a question of geography. Wooden remains are not only scarce, but they are also scattered throughout the Empire. In order to examine a body of evidence large enough to draw general conclusions, it is necessary to cast one’s net far and wide: Europe-wide in fact. The present research originates from the situation in the Britannia Romana. The province is not particularly representative of the Empire, it was actually very much on its periphery. The advantage of this area is its climate with frequent rainfall which has resulted in the development of micro environments favourable to the preservation of wooden finds. The finds collected over the years in Museums and in archaeological archives in Britain have been used to establish the parameters of the study. It was important to decide at the very beginning of this research which

groups of domestic objects could be studied in depth and in all aspects i.e. their morphology, their uses, their manufacturing techniques. The next step consisted in placing all the material in the context to which it belongs, i.e. Europe. For this purpose a number of collections of comparative finds from other areas of the Empire have been considered. The following categories were eventually selected: combs and grooming accessories, wood-soled footwear, boxes, tableware and kitchen equipment. Other finds such as furniture have not been considered since the remains were not sufficient for an in depth analysis. The observations from a detailed examination of the remains have been checked in a wide-ranging experimental programme. A careful perusal of the classical sources has supplied valuable additional information. The resulting analysis gives an overall view of the woodworking scene in classical times for the production of specific categories of small domestic wooden objects. The research extends beyond the Roman era with special attention to technical development. The transition into the medieval period has been in particular investigated in order to see whether the vessel turning techniques, which became so prominent in medieval times, stem from the Roman woodworking craft or developed independently in other societies situated outside the empire. The present study is proposed to researchers as a reference framework for the study of future finds.

(French) Notre connaissance du décor intérieur de la maison romaine vient, en grande partie, des textes anciens, de l’iconographie et évidemment des restes matériels, c’est à dire la céramique et autres objets en matériaux non périssables. On sait, par contre, très peu des objets en substances qui se conservent moins bien, comme, par example, le bois. Il existe, dans ce domaine, presque un circle viceux. Les objets en bois sont peu nombreux; ils sont des trouvailles exceptionelles plutôt que de routine dans une fouille. Par consequent ils sont étudiés et publiés (quand cela arrive, ce qui n’est pas toujours le cas) en tant que pièces uniques. Il n’y a point de schéma commun de

référence proposant un cadre général. On dirait qu’on n’essaye même pas d’en trouver un, comme si la tâche était impossible. C’est aussi, il est vrai, une question de géographie. Les restes en bois d’époque romaine ne sont déjà pas nombreux, de plus ils sont éparpillés à travers tout l’empire. Pour en voir et en étudier en nombre suffisant pour tirer des conclusions de caractère général, il faut ratisser large, à l’échelle européenne. Ce livre prend comme point de départ la situation dans la Britannia Romana. La raison de ce choix n’est pas que cette province est particulièrement représentative; elle se trouve en effet tout à fait à la

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périphérie de l’empire. Le grant avantage de cette île est son climat assez pluvieux qui a créé des environnements favorables à la conservation du bois. Les trouvailles accumulées au fil des années dans les musées et dans les archives archéologiques britanniques sont à la base de cette étude. Il a fallu, en premier, établir quelles étaient les catégories de mobilier domestique qui pouvaient être examinées en profondeur et sous différents aspects tels que la morphologie, l’utilisation dans la société contemporaine et les techniques de fabrication. Par la suite, il s’agissait de placer ce matériel dans son propre contexte, c’est à dire en Europe; cela a nécessité l’étude de matériel comparatif en provenance d’autres provinces de l’empire. Les catégories retenues ont été les suivantes: les peignes et autres accessoires de toilette, les chaussures à semelle de bois, les boîtes, la vaisselle et les instruments de cuisine. D’autres catégories comme, par exemple, les meubles ont été laissé de côté. Il n’y a pas en effet suffisamment de restes pour une étude approfondie.

Les renseignements fournis par un examen minutieux des objets ont été controllé au cours d’un programme expérimental de grande envergure; les textes anciens, par ailleurs, ont apporté un precieux supplément d’information . Cet ouvrage donne une idée d’ensemble de l’utilisation du bois pour la manufacture de catégories déterminées de petits objets ménagers en bois à l’époque classique. La recherche s’étend aussi en deçà et en delà de la période romaine puisque elle traite également de l’évolution des techniques de travail. La transition de l’époque classique au moyen age a été suivie plus particulièrement pour la production de bols et écuelles faits au tour. Cet industrie connu un grant essor au moyen age; il s’agissait de voir si ce phénomène était lié aux techniques développées par les artisans romains ou bien était originaire d’autres sociétés situées en dehors de l’empire. Il serait souhaitable que le cadre général proposé par cette recherche puisse être utilisé comme référence pour l’étude des petit objets ménagers en bois à découvrir dans les années à venir.

(German) Unsere Kenntnisse über die häusliche Umgebung zu römischen Zeiten stammen meistens von schriftlichen Quellen, von der Ikonographie, und natürlich von materiellen Resten, wie zum Beispiel Tonwaren und anderen Fünden unverderblicher Werkstoffe. Über andere Objekte aus weniger haltbarem Stoff wie Holz wissen wir vergleichbar wenig. Auf diesem Gebiet haben wir den Eindrick, uns in einem Teufelskreis zu befinden. Reste von hölzernen Objekten sind äusserst dunn gesät und stellen in den meisten Ausgrabungen eher die Ausnahme als die Norm dar. Deswegen hat es keine Versuche gegeben, einen allgemeinen Rahmen zu entwickeln, der es dem Forscher ermöglichen würde, das Objekt in einen breiteren Kontext zu setzen. Weitere Fünde werden also immer noch bloss vereinzelt untersucht und veröffentlicht, wenn überhaupt. Die Geographie spielt auch eine Rolle. Hölzerne Reste sind nicht nur rar sondern auch durch das ganze römische Reich gestreut. Um genügend Stücke zu untersuchen, damit man allgemeine Schlussfolgerungen bekommt, muss man sein Netz weit auswerfen, europaweit sogar. Der Ausgangspunkt dieser Studie ist die Britannia Romana, nicht weil diese Provinz besonders repräsentativ wäre für das römische Reich: Sie liegt eher am Rand des Reiches. Vielmehr ist der Vorteil dieses Gebiet sein Klima mit häufigem Regen, der zu

der Entwicklung einer Umgebung geführt hat, die die Erhaltung des Holzes fördert. Diese Studie basiert auf Fünde, die im Laufe der Jahre in Museen und britischen archeologischen Archiven gesammelt worden sind. Eine der ersten wichtigen Aufgaben war es, die Klassen häuslicher Objekte festzulegen, die mit Tiefgang und in allen Aspekten, d.h. Morphologie, Herstellungsverfahren, Anwendungen, untersucht werden konnten. Der nächste Schritt bestand darin, das ganze Material in einen europäischen Kontext zu setzen. Deswegen wurden etliche Sammlungen änlicher Fünde aus anderen Gebieten des Reiches in Betracht gezogen. Es wurden folgende Klassen von Artikeln gewählt: Kämme und Toilettenartikel, Schuhwerk mit hölzernen Sohlen, Schachteln, Tischgeschirr und Küchenausstattung. Andere Fünde wie zum Beispiel Möbel wurden nicht in Betracht gezogen, da die Reste unausreichend waren für eine tiefere Analyse. Die Beobachtungen aus einer detallierten Untersuchung der Reste wurden durch die Ergebnisse aus einem breiten experimentellen Programm unterstützt. Eine sorgfältige Lektüre der klassischen Quellen hat wichtige zusätzliche Informationen geliefert. Die resultierende Analyse verschafft einen breiten Überblick über die Holzbearbeitung zu klassischen Zeiten, mit Schwerpunkt auf die Herstellung von

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spezifischen Klassen von kleinen häuslichen Objekten. Die Forschung wurde ausgebreitet über das römische Zeitalter hinaus mit besonderer Aufmerksamkeit auf die technische Entwicklung. Der Übergang in das Mittelalter wurde gezielt untersucht, um festzustellen, ob die technischen Verfahren für die Drehung von Gefässen, die im Mittelalter so stark

hervorgetreten sind, direkte Nachfolger der römischen Holzbearbeitung waren, oder ob sie ausserhalb des Reiches entwickelt wurden. Diese Studie wird als Bezugsrahmen für die Untersuchung zukünftiger Fünde angeboten. (Translation Victoria Pugsley).

(Italian) La nostra conoscenza dell’ambiente domestico romano deriva in gran parte dai suoi resti materiali, fra cui primeggiano la ceramica ed altri oggetti in materie durevoli per natura, dalle strutture murarie, dalle fonti scritte e naturalmente dall’iconografia. Molto meno si sa degli elementi in sostanze piú effimere, come per esempio il legno. Si é creato effettivamente in questo campo un circolo vizioso. Gli oggetti in legno sono poco numerosi e rappresentano l’eccezione piuttosto che la norma fra i reperti di scavo; tendono quindi ad essere studiati e pubblicati (quando lo sono) quasi come pezzi unici. Non esiste uno schema comune, una classificazione che consenta di inserirli in un quadro generale; quasi non lo si cerca neppure considerando probabilmente che sia un compito impossibile. Il problema é anche una questione di geografia. I resti lignei oltre a essere pochi, sono sparpagliati in tutto l’impero. Per vederne e studiarne in numero sufficiente da tirare delle conclusioni generali, bisogna saper vedere in grande, a scala europea. Questo libro prende lo spunto dalla situazione nella Britannia Romana. Non perché questa provincia sia particolarmente rappresentativa dell’impero, ne era, a dire il vero, ben in periferia. Il vantaggio di quest’isola é il suo clima con frequenti precipitazioni che ha favorito lo sviluppo di ambienti propizi alla conservazione del legno nel corso dei secoli. I reperti accumulati col passar degli degli anni nei musei e negli archivi archeologici britannici hanno servito da punto di partenza per il presente studio. Era importante stabilire fin dall’inizio quali categorie d’oggetti d’uso domestico potevano essere studiate in profonditá e sotto tutti gli aspetti desiderati cioé la morfologia, gli usi nella societá contemporanea e le tecniche di fabbricazione. Il secondo passo é stato quello di mettere questa massa di materiale nel contesto europeo a cui appartiene, prendendo in considerazione un certo numero di reperti similari provenienti da altre zone dell’impero. Le categorie selezionate sono state i pettini ed altri accessori da toilette, le calzature a suola lignea, le scatole, il vasellame d’ogni specie e gli strumenti da cucina. Altro materiale, come per esempio i mobili,

non é stato preso in considerazione perché i resti non erano sufficienti per uno studio completo e approfondito. Le informazioni fornite da un esame dettagliato degli oggetti stessi sono state poste nel contesto dei testi classici e verificate in un esteso programma di sperimentazione. Il risultato fornisce un’idea d’insieme della lavorazione del legno in epoca classica per la produzione di specifiche categorie di piccoli oggetti di uso domestico. La ricerca si é anche estesa al di là e al di qua dell’epoca romana prendendo in considerazione l’evoluzione del settore soprattutto dal punto di vista delle tecniche di lavorazione. Una particolare attenzione é stata portata allo studio della transizione dall’epoca classica al medioevo per vedere quanto la lavorazione medievale del legno (e in paricolare del vasellame tornito) sia un lascito dell’artigianato romano o derivi da altre societá situate fuori dall’impero. Si auspica che il quadro generale proposto nella presente ricerca possa servire come punto di riferimento per lo studio di reperti similari che verranno scoperti in futuro.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS page Abstracts………………………………………………………………………………………………...i Table of contents……………………………………………………………………………...……….iv List of illustrations and maps….....…………………………………………………………….……viii Acknowledgements…………………………………………………………………………………....xi Introduction and note on conventions used.…………………..……………………………………...1 Chapter 1: Preservation and Deposition 1.1 Preservation conditions…………………………………………………………………....5 1.1.1 Climatic extremes……………………………………………………...…….…..5 1.1.2 Anaerobic and anoxic conditions….…………………………….....…………….5 1.1.3 Differential preservation..….…………………………………….….………...…6 1.2 Distribution……….….……………………………………………………………………7 1.3 Deposition……….….……………………………………………………………………10 1.3.1 Rubbish…….…...……………………………………………………….………10 1.3.2 Chance loss.………………….………..……………………..…….……………10 1.3.3 Wrecks….……………………………...….………………………………….…10 1.3.4 Intended deposition………………………………………………………..….…10 1.3.4.1 Burials……….………………………………….……………….….10 1.3.4.2 Votive deposits….………………………………………….…….…11 1.4 Conclusions….…………………………………………………………………..…….…12 Chapter 2: Personal Objects: Combs and Accessories 2.1 Combs………….……………………………………………………………………….…14 2.1.1 Development of the design.………………………….…………………………14 2.1.2 Roman wooden combs in Britain………………………………………………15 2.1.2.1 The raw material……….…………………………………………….15 2.1.2.2 Typology…………….……………………………………………….15 2.1.2.3 Analysis of the sample.………………………………………………19 2.1.2.4 Origin of the sample…………………………………………………22 2.1.3 The use of the H comb……….…………………………………………………23 2.1.3.1 Disentangling……….………………………………………………..24 2.1.3.2 Cleaning hair and scalp….……....………...…………………………24 2.1.3.3 Nourishing…………………………………...………………………24 2.1.3.4 Dyeing………….……………………………………………...……..24 2.1.3.5 Styling………………………………………………………………..25 2.1.3.6 Lice removal……………………………………………...………….25 2.1.4 Pectinarii and their craft………………………………………………………..25 2.2 Accessories………………………………………………………………………………..26 2.2.1 Jewellery………………………………………………………………………..26 2.2.2 Pins……………………………………………………………………………..27 2.2.3 Mirror boxes.………………………………………………………....………...29 Chapter 3: Personal Objects: Footwear 3.1 Cork-soled footwear ………………………………………………………………………32 3.1.1 The raw material……………………………………………………………..…32 3.1.2 The literary evidence…………………………………………………………...33 3.1.3 The archaeological evidence….………………………………………………...33 3.1.3.1 Socci……………………………………………………………...….33 3.1.3.2 Slippers………………………………………………………………35

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3.1.4 Cork-soled footwear in context………….……………………………………...36 3.1.5 Distribution and dating…………………………………………………………38 3.1.6 Conclusions…………………………….…………………………………….…40 3.2 Other wood-soled footwear. Soleae ligneae and Sculponeae…………………………..…42 3.2.1 Analysis of the material………………………………...………………………42 3.2.1.1 The nature of the sample……….………………………………….…42 3.2.1.2 Typology…………………………………………………………..…42 3.2.1.3 Nailing…………………………………………………………….…47 3.2.1.4 Hinged soles….………………………………………………………47 3.2.1.5 Size……………….………………………………………………..…49 3.2.1.6 Decoration………….……………………………………………...…49 3.2.1.7 Insoles…………………………………………………………..……49 3.2.1.8 Raw material…………………………………………………………49 3.2.1.9 Distribution………………………………………………………..…51 3.2.2 Analysis of morphology and use……………………………………….………51 3.2.2.1 The cast…….………………………………………………………...53 3.2.2.2. Stability……………………………………………………………...54 3.2.3. The wider context……………………………………………………………...54 3.2.3.1 The pre-Roman world: archaeology and written sources……………54 3.2.3.2 Roman literary sources………………………………………………56 3.2.4 Discussion and conclusions…………………………………………………….57 Wooden soles from Western Europe………………………………………………………….59 Chapter 4: Personal Objects: Lidded Containers 4.1 Angular boxes……………………………………………………………………………..60 4.1.1 The style of lids………………….………………………………………...……60 4.1.1.1 Drop lids……………………………………………………………..60 4.1.1.2 Hinge lids…………………………………………………………….61 4.1.1.3 Sliding lids…………………………………………….……………..61 4.1.2 Ornamentation………………………………………………………………….62 4. 2 Turned boxes – pyxides……….…………………...………………………..…………….66 4.2.1 The shape.………………………………………………………………………66 4.2.2 The raw material………………………………………………………………..68 4.2.3 The nature of the sample……….……………………………………………….70 4.2.4 Morphology of the Roman pyxis…………….………………………………….70 4.2.4.1 Theme and variations…….……………………………...…………...70 4.2.4.2 Fastening……………………………………………………………..73 4.2.4.3 Decoration……………….…………………………………………...75 4.2.5 Manufacture.……………………………………………………………………76 4.2.5.1 Cylindrical pyxides…………………………………………………..76 4.2.5.2 Globular pyxides……………………………………………………..78 4.2.5.3. Lids………………………………………………………………….79 4.2.6 Distribution……………………………………………………………………..81 4.2.6.1 Size………….………………………………………………………..81 4.2.6.2 Style………………………………………………………………….81 4.2.7 The use of the pyxis…………………………………………………………….82 4.2.8 Conclusions…………………….……………………………………………….82 4.3 Turned and drilled boxes …………………………………………………………………85 4.3.1 Hollowing wood in antiquity…………………………………………………...85 4.3.1.1 Two-part vessels……………………………………………………..85 4.3.1.2 Scraping……………………………………………………………...85 4.3.1.3 Drilling.….…………………………………………………………...87 4.3.1.4 Hollowing wood like stone……….………………………………….88 4.3.2 Needlecases………….………………………………………………………….90 4.3.2.1 Morphology………………………………………………………….90

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4.3.2.2 Manufacture………………………………………………………….91 4.3.2.3 Needlecases in context………….…………………...……………….93 4.4 Bentwood containers……………………………………………………………………...95 4.4.1 The artefact……………………………………………………………………..95 4.4.2 The technique………….………………………………………………………..95 4.4.3 The raw material………………………………………………………………..96 4.4.4 The archaeological evidence……………….…………………………………...96 Chapter 5: Household Items 5.1 Tableware………………………………………………………………………………..100 5.1.1 The literary evidence…….…………………………………………………….100 5.1.2 The archaeological evidence….……………………………………………….101 5.1.2.1 Drinking vessels……….……………………………………………101 5.1.2.2 Plates….…………………………………………………………….103 5.1.2.3 Bowls……………………………………………………………….104 5.1.2.4 Serving implements………………………………………………...108 5.1.3 Technical analysis……………………………………………………………..110 5.1.3.1 The pressure mandrel……….……...……………………………….110 5.1.3.2 Turned and carved items………….………………...………………111 5.1.3.3 Technological transfer……………………………………………...112 5.1.4 The raw material………………………………………………………………113 5.1.4.1 Wood-species………………………………………………………113 5.1.4.2 Burrs………………………………………………………………..113 5.2 Kitchenware……………………………………………………………………………...114 5.2.1 Troughs………………………………………………………………………..114 5.2.2 Implements…….………………………………………………………………115 5.2.2.1 Scoops………………………………………………………………115 5.2.2.2 Spatulae……………….…………………………………………….117 5.3 Wooden household ware in context…………………………………………………...…119 Chapter 6: The Origin of Medieval Vessel Turning 6.1 The evidence from pre-Roman Britain…………………………………………………..120 6.1.1 Glastonbury Lake Village……………………………………………………..121 6.1.2 The Breiddin Hillfort………………………………………………………….123 6.1.3 Wookey Hole………………………………………………………………….123 6.2 The evidence from the Continent….……………………………………………………..123 6.2.1 La Tène………………………………………………………………………..123 6.2.2 Chalon sur Saône……………………………………………………………...127 6.2.3 Feddersee Moor……………………………………………………………….128 6.2.4 Hjortspring…………………………………………………………………….129 6.2.5 Uffing………………………………………………………………………….130 6.2.6 Feddersen Wierde……………………………………………………………..131 6.3 The technology………………………………………………………….………………..133 6.3.1 Shape………….…………………………………………………………….…133 6.3.2 Weight……….………………………………………………………………...133 6.4 Discussion………………………………………………………………………………..135 Chapter 7: The Wider Issues 7.1 The objects……………………………………………………………………………….138 7.1.1 Status and role of domestic wooden objects…………………………………..138 7.1.2 Wood-specific designs………………………………………………………...138 7.2 Production……………………………………………………………………………..…139 7.2.1 Craftsmen and craftsmanship……………….…………………………………139

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7.3 Trade……………………………………………………………………………………..141 7.4 Technical development…………………………………………………………………..142 7.5 Conclusions ……………………………………………………………………………...143 Appendix 1: Corpora………………………………………………………………………………...145 Combs………………………………………………………………………………………..145 Accessories…………………………………………………………………………………..150 Footwear……………………………………………………………………………………..151 Carved boxes and bentwood containers……………….……………………………………..153 Pyxides and needlecases……………………………………………………………………..153 Vessels and kitchen equipment………………………………………………………………155 Glossary of Latin names for wood-species/family used in the corpora……………………..159 Plates…………………………………………………………………………………………160 Appendix 2: Table of main sites outside Britain discussed in the text………………………………170 Appendix 3: Experimental archaeology…………………………………………………………..…173 The experimental programme………………………………………………………………..174 Combs………………………………………………………………………………………..175 Footwear……………………………………………………………………………………..181 Pyxides……………………………………………………………………………………….183 Needlecases…………………………………………………………………………..………186 Conclusions…………………………………………………………………………………..190 Appendix 4: Turning marks - a checklist…….………………………………………………………191 Glossary..………….………………………………………………………………………………….193 Bibliography…………………………………………………………………………………………195 Index………………………………………………………………………………………………….206

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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Frontispiece: Comb, pyxis and needlecase replicas. Map I: Main sites outside Britain mentioned in the text. Map II: Sites in Britain. Map III: Modern distribution of the cork oak in Europe and findspots of Roman corksoled slippers. Map IV: Findspots of Roman wooden soles and distribution of types of stilts. Fig. 2.1: Late Neolithic boxwood comb from Charavines. Fig. 2.2: The H comb and terms used. Fig. 2.3: Terminal styles. Fig. 2.4: The horn comb from the Skrydstrup grave in Denmark. Fig. 2.5: The funerary stele of the hairdresser Cyparenis. Fig. 2.6: Combs from Pommereoul. Fig. 2.7: Bath C127. Fig. 2.8: Grooves and cordons on the central bar of combs. Fig. 2.9: Winchester C145. Fig. 2.10: The Modestina ivory comb. Fig. 2.11: Carlisle C110. Fig. 2.12: Single-sided combs from Vieille Toulouse. Fig. 2.13: Terracotta of Aphrodite at her toilet. Fig. 2.14: The funerary stele of the combmaker Valerius Placidus. Fig. 2.15: A wooden bead. Fig. 2.16: A lady using a discerniculum. Fig. 2.17: Wooden hairpins from Vindolanda. Fig. 2.18: Wooden hairpin from Kertch and bone hairpin from London. Fig. 2.19: Two-piece carved mirror box from Volterra. Fig. 2.20: Cirencester M014. Fig. 2.21: Wooden two-piece case for a hand mirror from Hawara. Fig. 3.1: Harvesting cork in modern times. Fig. 3.2: Schematic representation of a soccus. Fig. 3.3: Relief from Neumagen showing a lady and her attendants. Fig. 3.4: Constituent parts and reconstruction of Vindolanda S012. Fig. 3.5: A hollowed cork sole from the Saalburg. Fig. 3.6: Schematic representation of the slipper from Frimmersdorf. Fig. 3.7: Fragment of a cork-soled slipper from the Saalburg.

Fig. 3.8: London S009. Fig. 3.9: Cork-soled slipper from Les Martres de Veyre; relief from Lillebonne. Fig. 3.10: London S031, S032 and S033. Fig. 3.11: MacConnoran’s reconstruction of the slipper from St. Magnus, London. Fig. 3.12: The variety of Roman wood-soled footwear. Fig. 3.13: Typology of Roman wood-soled footwear. Fig. 3.14: Sole and upper from Vechten. Fig. 3.15: A2 soles from the Saalburg, Les Avrillages and Touffréville. Fig. 3.16: Bronze figurine from the lararium at Montorio. Fig. 3.17: Soles from Avenches and St. Germain en Montagne. Fig. 3.18: Castleford S028-reconstruction. Fig. 3.19: Types of stilts. Fig. 3.20: Soles from Pisa. Fig. 3.21: Soles from Velsen 1. Fig. 3.22: Touffréville no. OR 433. Fig. 3.23: Carlisle S005. Fig. 3.24: Vindolanda S013, S017, S021, S023. Fig. 3.25: Sole for a child from Compierre. Fig. 3.26: Vindolanda S014, S018, S030. Fig. 3.27: Sole from Altino. Fig. 3.28: Sole from Les Martres de Veyre. Fig. 3.29: Distribution of the total sample of wooden soles by wood-species. Fig. 3.30: Medieval overshoe. Fig. 3.31: Modern zoccoli from Italy. Fig. 3.32: The experimental wooden sole showing how the foot must move with the sole while walking. Fig. 3.33: Section drawing of the earliest surviving Dutch clog. Fig. 3.34: Flat ceremonial soles from Egypt. Fig. 3.35: Etruscan hinged sole in boxwood and metal. Fig. 3.36: Shoe in wood and metal from Coptic Egypt. Fig. 3.37: Urnerboden: modern wooden footwear from Switzerland. Fig. 3.38: Modern wood-soled footwear from Val di Pesaro in Italy. Fig. 3.39: Mosaic from Timgad suggesting the use of wood-sole footwear in the baths. Fig. 4.1: Vindolanda L005 and Carlisle L007. Fig. 4.2: Writing tablets from Vindonissa; Vindolanda L003. Fig. 4.3: Sliding lid boxes from Hawara. Fig. 4.4: Vindolanda L006; Bath L008. Fig. 4.5: Vindolanda L001 and sliding lid metal box

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from Mainz. Fig. 4.6: Lid of a box from the Fortuna Maris wreck; box from Rainau-Buch. Fig. 4.7: Ivory pyxides from Nimrud and Tell Halaf. Fig. 4.8: The pyxis from Brauron. Fig. 4.9: Hellenistic pyxides from Praeneste and from the Black Sea region. Fig. 4.10: A pyxis - terms used. Fig. 4.11: Roman bone and ivory pyxides from Este and Salona. Fig. 4.12: Roman pyxides from the Black Sea region. Fig. 4.13: The globular pyxis from Velsen 1. Fig. 4.14: Button-lid pyxides from Les Martres de Veyre and from the Gulf of Fos. Fig. 4.15: York P033. Fig. 4.16: Two types of lid fit. Fig. 4.17: Body of a pyxis from the Saalburg. Fig. 4.18: Oblique perforations: London P006, P007 and P008. Fig. 4.19: London P004; a pyxis from the Gulf of Fos; Clio panel from the Muse casket. Fig. 4.20: A pyxis from Bulgaria and tools used to manufacture it. Fig. 4.21: Vindolanda P021 and the tool used to manufacture it. Fig. 4.22: London P026, a possible reject. Fig. 4.23: Newstead P010 when it was found and in its present state. Fig. 4.24: Section profile of a pyxis with a conical base before the removal of the core. Fig. 4.25: Roman globular pyxides from Bulgaria and from Hawara. Fig. 4.26: Perforated lids: Carlisle P016, Carlisle P034 and London P037. Fig. 4.27: Vindolanda P020 and London P025. Fig. 4.28: Pyxis from the Pozzino wreck. Fig. 4.29: Carlisle P017; Corbridge P011. Fig. 4.30: Roman pyxides in alternative materials: amber, shale, jet and metal. Fig. 4.31: Two-part wooden vessels from Praeneste and the Black Sea region. Fig. 4.32: Two-part wooden vessel from Samos. Fig. 4.33: Pre-Roman wooden vessels hollowed by scraping. Fig. 4.34: The globular pyxis from Les Martres de Veyre. Fig. 4.35: Roman wooden vessels hollowed by scraping and drilling. Fig. 4.36: The kohl pot from Avenches. Fig. 4.37: A spoon bit from Niederbieber. Fig. 4.38: Early vessels hollowed by drilling with the spoon bit only. Fig. 4.39: Roman pyxis hollowed with the spoon bit only. Fig. 4.40: A Roman wooden vessel hollowed with the same technique used for stone vessels.

Fig. 4.41: Globular stone vase from Herculaneum. Fig. 4.42: Figure-of-eight stone borers from Egypt and Mesopotamia. Fig. 4.43: Pyxis lids from the Pozzino wreck and from Kertch. Fig. 4.44: Possible prototype of a needlecase from Oberwinterthur. Fig. 4.45: Vindolanda P030. Fig. 4.46: The drill used to hollow the experimental needlecase. Fig. 4.47: The manufacturing and use of pegs for the turning of outer surfaces coaxial with inside perforations. Fig. 4.48: Modern boxwood needlecase from St. Claude. Fig. 4.49: Bentwood scrinium of late Roman date complete with lock. Fig. 4.50: Apparatus for a simple steam box. Fig. 4.51: Harlow L009. Fig. 4.52: Modius from Rezé lès Nantes. Fig. 4.53: Carlisle L010. Fig. 4.54: A two-part carved keg from Morvern. Fig. 4.55: Reconstructed lidded bentwood container from Oberflacht. Fig. 5.1: London T008. Fig. 5.2: The variety of Roman drinking cups: London T042, T007, T005; Cramond T041, Alchester T060. Fig. 5.3: Roman plates: Carlisle T018, Dalton Parlours T033 and from the Fortuna Maris wreck. Fig. 5.4: Plates from Herculaneum. Fig. 5.5: Birdoswald T035. Fig. 5.6: Carlisle T040; Vindolanda T013. Fig. 5.7: Carlisle T027; pottery from the Brampton kilns. Fig. 5.8: Vessel from Avenches; Carlisle T029. Fig. 5.9: York T046. Fig. 5.10: Dalton Parlours T032; Carlisle T025. Fig. 5.11: York T045; London T002. Fig. 5.12: Flanged vessels: Heddernheim; London T047; the Saalburg. Fig. 5.13: (?)Lid from Heddernheim. Fig. 5.14: Fishbourne T010 and its glass counterpart. Fig. 5.15: London T006 and its glass counterpart. Fig. 5.16: Wooden bowls with metal overlay from Krefeld Gellep and inlay from Veslen 1. Fig. 5.17: London T055. Fig. 5.18: The use of the pressure mandrel. Fig. 5.19: Vindolanda T012. Fig. 5.20: The manufacture of part-carved and partturned serving implements. Fig. 5.21: Goblet from Avenches; Rothwell colliery T052 and T053. Fig. 5.22: Mortarium from the Fortuna Maris wreck. Fig. 5.23: Vindolanda T077.

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Fig. 5.24: London T080; Carlisle T081. Fig. 5.25: Carlisle T082. Fig. 5.26: Vindolanda T083. Fig. 5.27: London T087; complete artefact type of the shallow bowl scoop. Fig. 5.28: London T086. Fig. 5.29: Grotesque wooden figurines from RainauBuch and Köln. Fig. 6.1: Glastonbury X2. Fig. 6.2: Glastonbury X5 and its comparandum from Feddersen Wierde. Fig. 6.3: Glastonbury X85 according to Bulleid and Gray and according to Earwood. Fig. 6.4: The Breiddin bowl. Fig. 6.5: Vessels from La Tène. Fig. 6.6: Vessel from Chalon sur Saône. Fig. 6.7: Vessel from Feddersee Moor. Fig. 6.8: Vessels from Hjortspring. Fig. 6.9: Cup from Uffing. Fig. 6.10: Two blanks from Feddersen Wierde. Fig. 6.11: A modern hook tool. Fig. 6.12: A simple treadle lathe from 1930s Pakistan and diagram showing how the treadle operated. Fig. 6.13: A soapstone vessel from Roman Avenches. Fig. 7.1: A vessel from El Cigarralejo. Fig. 7.2: The ‘food warmer’ from the Fortuna Maris wreck. Fig. 7.3: Double-handled bow for a lathe of Roman date from Bingen and its counterpart from modern Turkey. Fig. 7.4: Vindolanda T048.

Plate 9: Carlisle T076, T078; London T079. Plate 10: Carlisle T071, T072; London T088; York T091. Appendix 3 Fig. 1: Tools used in the manufacture of the experimental combs. Fig. 2: The experimental cutting of grooves on a piece of boxwood and the tool used for the purpose. Fig. 3: Line drawing of CIL V 7569 and a modern combmaker showing how the short-handled clam is used. Fig. 4: The modern clam from Ézy sur Eure Museum. Fig. 5: Structure and modus operandi of a combmaker’s clam. Fig. 6: Diagram showing the cutting of a tooth from both sides of a comb. Fig. 7: Diagram of a possible Roman combmaker’s saw. Fig. 8: The experimental combs. Fig. 9: Experimental sole type A1. Fig. 10: Experimental sole type B2. Fig. 11: The experimental pyxides and the tool used. Fig. 12: Schematic representation of the lathe used for the manufacturing of the experimental pyxides. Fig. 13: Experimental pyxis and the wasted generated. Fig. 14: Diagram showing the sequencing for the turning of a pyxis with a V-shaped inner base. Fig. 15: Tool of modern manufacture used for the manufacturing of the experimental pyxides. Fig. 16: The experimental needlecase. Fig. 17: Diagram of the drill used for the manufacturing of the experimental needlecase. Fig. 18: The two spoon bits of modern manufacture used for the hollowing of the body and of the cover of the experimental needlecase Fig. 19: The tools used for the experimental needlecase including the wooden pegs. Fig. 20: Flat chisel and roughing gouge of modern manufacture. Fig. 21: The tool used for the shaping of the flange of the lid of the experimental needlecase. Fig. 22: The two finished components of the experimental needlecase, the pegs for mounting on the lathe and the tool used to shape the flange.

Appendix 1 Plate 1: Carlisle S001, S002, S003; Harlow S027, Castleford S028. Plate 2: London S010, Vindolanda S013, S015, S016, S017, Castleford S029. Plate 3: Beauport Park S008, Vindolanda S020, S021, S022, S023, London S024, Newstead S025. Plate 4: London P001, P002, P005, P009, P029, P035, P036, P038; Vindolanda P019, P022, P023, P027, P028; L002, L004; Bar Hill P013; Carlisle P014, P015, P024, P032; Corbridge P012. Plate 5: Vindolanda T011, T014, T015, T016; London T004, T009; Burntwick Island T049; Carlisle T020. Plate 6: London T039, T056, T057, T058, T059, T092. Plate 7: Farmoor T034; Scole Dickleburgh T050, T051; Guernsey Wreck T065; Carlisle T075. Plate 8: London T061, T085, T090; Castle Cary T068, Vindolanda T064, Newstead T067; Guernsey Wreck T066; Chew Valley Lake T073.

Appendix 4 Fig. 1: Vessel with a built-in mandrel.

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The author is very grateful to a host of individuals and institutions who have given her access to collections, supplied published and unpublished material and answered her questions, or at least tried to. They are hopefully all listed below. Mr S. Minnitt - Taunton Museum. Ms J. Mills - Corinium Museum, Cirencester. Ms S. Morgan and Ms K. Disney - East Devon College, Tiverton. Mr R. Moore - Northampton Museum. Dr C. Morris - Burwell, Cambs. Mr T. Padley - Tullie Museum, Carlisle. Dr S. Quirke - Petrie Museum University College London. Dr D. Rudkin - Fishbourne Museum. Dr E. Sauer - Leicester University. Mr. J. Shepherd - London Archaeological Archive Resource Centre. Dr A. Spawforth - Museum of Antiquities, University of Newcastle upon Tyne. Dr J. Swadling - The British Museum. Dr. A. Wardle - London Archaeological Archive Resource Centre. Mr A. Warin - Royal Devon and Exeter Hospital, Exeter. Mr R. Watts - Wotton under Edge, Glos. Ms H. Whitehouse - Ashmoleum Museum. Mr N. Wickenden - Chelmsford Museum Services. Mr P. Woodward - Dorset County Museum. The Manager - Textile Research in Archaeology, York. The Curator - Wells Museum.

Great Britain Mr J. Allan - Royal Albert Museum, Exeter. Ms L. Allason-Jones - Museum of Antiquities, Newcastle upon Tyne. Mr T. Ashwin - Norfolk Archaeological Unit. Mr J. Aubrey - Crudwell Glos. Mr R. Bartlett - Harlow Museum. Mr S. Bird - Bath Roman Museum. Mr and Mrs Robin Birley - Vindolanda Museum. Mr R. Bowers - Honiton, Devon. Mrs G. Boyle - Bristol Museum. Dr G. Brodribb - Robertsbridge East Sussex. Mr J. Clarke - Bath Archaeological Trust. Mr M. Collard - City Archaeologist, Edinburgh. Dr M. Dearne - Edmonton. Ms L. Fitton - The British Museum. Ms H. Geake - Norwich Castle Museum. Mr A. Gwilt - National Museum and Galleries, Cardiff. Mrs J. Hatton - University of Exeter. Ms J. Hall and Mr. F. Grew - Museum of London. Ms L. Hird - Carlisle. Ms C. Howard-Davis - University of Lancaster. Dr J. Hather - University College London. Mr F. Hunter - National Museums of Scotland, Edinburgh. Mr R. Iles - Winchester Museum Services. Ms A. Insker - Bedford Museum. Mr J.W. Jackson - Manchester University Medical School Museum. Dr R. Jackson - The British Museum. Dr C. Johns -The British Museum. Ms A. Jones - Chester Archaeology. Ms S. Jones - National Army Museum, London. Mr. J. Keen - Ancient Technology Centre, Cranborne. Mrs. K. Keith - West Yorkshire Archaeological Services, Wakefield. Dr L. Keppie - Hunterian Museum Glasgow. Dr G. Killen - St. Ives, Cambs. Dr S. Lunt - Wroxeter Roman Museum. Mr M.R. MacCarthy, Mr I. Caruana and Mr Ph. Cracknell - Carlisle Archaeological Unit. Dr A. MacGregor- Ashmoleum Museum. Ms C. Mc Donnell and the York Trust Curatorial Department, especially Ms G. Woolrich. Ms C. Maloney - London Archaeological Archive Resource Centre. Ms C. Mason - Maidstone Museum.

France Mr L. Bonnamour and Mrs C. Michel - Musée Denon, Chalon sur Saône. Mrs D. Bardin - Musée des Beaux Arts Dijon. Ms N. Coulthard - Service départementale d’archéologie, Caen. Ms L. Del’Furia - Musée d’archéologie sous marine, Port Vendres. Ms N. Hechberg - Musée internationale de la chaussure, Romans. Mrs C. Lamesch - Musée Bargoin, Clermont Ferrand. Mr S. Leng - Musée archéologique de Champagnole. Mr Y. Loukianoff - Circonscription des antiquités historiques des Pays de la Loire, Nantes. Ms V. Montembault, - Égriselles le Bocage. Ms M. Morel - Musée de l’Histore de Marseille, Marseille. Mme C. Parnaso - Musée des Beaux Arts, Dijon Mr P. Passot - Art Tournage et Culture, Lavans les Saint Claude. Ms M. A. Serpolet - Musée du Peigne, Ezy sur Eure.

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Ms M. Sciallano - Musée René Beaucaire, Istres. Mr M. Vidal - Direction régionale des affaires culturelles Midi-Pyrénées, Toulouse.

Dr W. Van der Sanden - Drenthe. Dr C. Van Driel-Murray - University of Amsterdam. Dr P. Van Rijn - Biax, Amsterdam. Ms J. Verweij - Zwolle.

Germany Prof. D. Baatz - Idstein. Dr S. Faust - Rheinesches Landesmuseum, Trier. Dr B. Greiner - Grunbach. Dr A. Hampel - Archaeologische Denkmalpflege, Frankfurt a/M. Dr A. Kreuz - Landesamt für Denkmalpflege Hessen, Wiesbaden. Dr E. Riemer - Württembergisches Landesmuseum, Stuttgart. Dr E. Schallmayer - Saalburg Museum, Bad Homburg. Mr J. Schuster - Burg Bederkesa Museum, Bad Bederkesa. Dr M. Siepen - Museum Burg Linn, Krefeld.

Switzerland Mrs N. Appenzeller and Mrs. H. Kiefer - Bally shoe museum, Shönenwerd Mr P. Cudry - Musée cantonal d’archéologie, Sion. Mr. D. Castella - Blonay. Mr F.X. Chauvière - Latenium Museum, Neuchatel. Prof. Dr R. Fellmann - Basel. Mr R. Haenkki - Service Cantonale d’Archéologie, Brugg. Mrs A. Hochuli-Gysel - Avenches Museum, Avenches. Ms H. Koller - Service Cantonale d’Archéologie, Brugg. Ms C. Meystre - Avenches Museum, Avenches. Mr O. Paccolat - University of Lausanne. Ms G. Reginelli - Latenium Museum, Neuchatel.

Italy Dr F. Gandolfo - Museo delle Arti e Tradizioni Popolari, Rome. Dr M.C. Guidotti - Soprintendenza Archeologica Florence. Dr A. Lista - Museo Archeologico, Naples. Mr M. Mannini - Conservation Services, Florence. Dr A. Romualdi - Soprintendenza Archeologica, Florence. Dr M. Rottoli - Museo Giovio, Como. Dr A. Ruta - Museo Nazionale Atestino, Este. Dr G. Silano - Antiquarium, Ercolano. The Curator - Aquileia Museum, Aquileia. The Director - Museo di Villa Giulia, Rome.

And also Mrs M. Andrzejowska - Archaeological Museum, Warsaw. Mr M. Axboe - National Museum of Denmark, Copenhagen. Mrs S. Bata - The Bata Shoe Museum, Toronto. Dr A. Bernhard-Walcher - Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna. Dr P. Kuniholm - The Malcolm and Carolyn Wiener Laboratory for Aegean and Near East Archaeology, Cornell University, Ithaca Mr. K.D.S. Lepatin - Department of Art History University of Boston. Prof. E. Simpson - The Bard Graduate Centre in the Decorative Arts, New York.

The Netherlands Mr O. Goubitz - ROB, Amersfoort. Mr W.M. Dijkstra - Museum voor het Land van Heusden en Altena, Heusden. .

A special thank to Andrew Barkla for his very valuable contribution to the section on experimental archaeology, to Teddy Francis for dealing with most of the photography and the University of Exeter Gardening Department for supplying the boxwood used in the experimental manufacturing of combs and pyxides. The author gratefully acknowledges financial support from the Fox-Lawrence Fund, the Sir John and Lady Amory’s Charitable Trust and Grimmitt Holdings; she also wishes to thank Mr and Mrs B. Masson and Prof. and Mrs F. Jacobs for their generous hospitality while staying in London.

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INTRODUCTION

In a recent symposium on Roman craftsmanship the study of the role of craftsmen, in the economy of the Roman Empire, has been compared to taking a walk on a minefield. According to Polfer, the nature of the ancient economy and the role of non-agricultural production and trade, are as hotly debated today as they were in the 19th century when the question was first set (Polfer 2001, 7). The statement may be true, but it does not tell the whole story. Our knowledge of manufacturing and trade of non-agricultural goods in the Roman world is based mainly on the analysis of pottery production and on stone and metalworking, since these materials are most prominent in the archaeological record. Other areas of craftsmanship are still poorly understood. Not only do we not know how they were organized, but we are also far from having a complete picture of the artefacts some categories of craftsmen were producing. Domestic woodwork is one of them.

Most of it was in wood. In Britain, furniture has a poor rate of survival; moreover interesting isolated finds (e.g. Puglsey 2002) have been neglected .On the continent, the unique corpus of wooden furniture from Herculaneum has only been recently studied in depth (Mols 1998). Both Liversidge and Richter have based their analysis on furniture in alternative materials i.e. stone, metal and shale, on the iconography and on the written sources. Selected material of Roman date from sites outside Britain (Map I and Appendix 2) has also been considered in order to provide a suitable framework for the understanding of the material from this country. The two assemblages are comparable in size. Finally, since the aim of this research is also to chart trends feeding into Roman woodworking craftsmanship as well as developments occurring after the end of classical society, additional material not of Roman origin has been brought in. This accounts, in particular, for the consideration in depth of Germanic and Celtic woodwork in the section dealing with the origin of medieval vessel turning.

The present research focuses on the in depth analysis of the limited body of evidence available in the field. It intends to move beyond the current piecemeal approach whereby finds are handled almost as individual entities; it aims at viewing the body of Roman domestic woodwork as much as possible as a whole in order to identify trends and developments in Roman times and beyond. The information gained from the analysis of the material has been supplemented by a careful perusal of literary and iconographic sources. An extensive experimental programme has been set up to test a number of conclusions arrived at especially in the field of technology.

Iconography and literature have contributed in varying degrees to this research. One of the problems with literature is its geographical spread. It does not match that of the archaeological evidence; in Europe, while wooden remains originate mostly from areas north of the Alps, the literature does not. It originates mainly from Rome itself or from the eastern Mediterranean basin. Moreover, most of the items considered in this survey have attracted very little attention from ancient authors. Written sources make only passing references to wooden combs or woodsoled footwear, for instance, probably because they were a widespread occurrence in everyday life. Even so, literary sources have provided some useful insights. For example, the passion for boxwood in Roman society, which is probably at the origin of the development of so many techniques and designs, from the combs to the serving implements, is confirmed in the written sources by flattering references to the hue and texture of this material. No other wood-species enjoyed such widespread recognition in antiquity.

The starting point of this research is the analysis of the assemblage of Roman domestic woodwork from a number of sites in Roman Britain. The composition of the assemblage from this province has determined what categories could be studied in the required depth. The 343 remains, most of which are fragmentary, are set out with basic information in the corpora in Appendix 1; they cover the following categories: combs and accessories, footwear, domestic containers and kitchen implements. These do not constitute an exhaustive list of wooden items present in the Roman home. Furniture, for example, is conspicuously rare and yet, as the research by Richter (1966) for the whole of the classical world, and by Liversidge (1955) for Britain in particular, have shown, it was present in the Roman household.

In the case of a specific category of bentwood containers, on the other hand, the written sources have clearly taken the lead in the investigation. The scant remains of these artefacts are too fragmentary

1 1

to extrapolate from and attempt a reconstruction. These items, their use and content, however, have been mentioned in various classical texts. The proposed reconstruction, arrived at by piecing together diverse strands of written evidence, is supported by the iconography. The item represented in fig. 4.49 must be made of wood; it could not possibly be made in any other material.

possessions, while cups, bowls, plates and kitchen equipment were shared by all the members of the household. Chapter 6 develops one particular line of enquiry, i.e. the origin of medieval vessel turning. The evidence supplied by the body of Roman tableware does not suggest a seamless transition into medieval practices. There is, on the other hand, turned material originating from Celtic and Germanic societies. This body of evidence is thoroughly examined and reassessed.

This example unfortunately must remain unique. Wood does not normally translate well into iconography and this source has been, on the whole, of limited use for the present investigation. There are no ready criteria to differentiate representations of wooden artefacts from their counterparts in other materials. Iconography’s main contribution is indeed not in casting light on specific shapes and designs, but rather in the field of manufacture. The funerary stele showing Valerius Placidus, a combmaker, sitting at his workbench is the only evidence for the modus operandi of the craft of a pectinarius in Roman times, apart from the combs themselves. There are no identified combmaker’s tools nor descriptions of the procedures involved. The analysis of the scene has shown that techniques, known to have survived until the mid-19th century, could be traced back in an unbroken line of evidence to Roman times.

Chapter 7 deals with the wider issues. The information retrieved by the in depth analysis of a limited number of categories of objects, their use, morphology and manufacture is brought together to sketch an overall picture of the Roman craft of domestic woodworking. The discussion includes trade and production and charts the waxing and waning of technical developments. The experimental programme focusing on the manufacture of combs, pyxides, soleae ligneae and needlecases is fully detailed in appendix 3. A glossary of technical terms used throughout the text can be found on page 193.

NOTE ON CONVENTIONS

Finally, this research has relied heavily on experimental archaeology for the understanding of the technology involved in the production of a number of items. The criteria applied in the drawing up of the experimental programme and the detailed description of procedures can be found in Appendix 3.

The individual items considered in this research have been referenced, for Britain, with a standard formula. It gives the provenance of the object followed by its alphanumeric entry in the relevant corpus. The six corpora listed in Appendix 1 are the following: combs (‘C’ numbers page 145), accessories (‘M’ numbers page 150), footwear (‘S’ numbers page 151), angular boxes and bentwood containers (‘L’ numbers page 153), pyxides and needlecases (‘P’ numbers page 153), vessels and kitchen equipment (‘T’ numbers page 155). The continental material has been identified, when possible, either by museum or conservation laboratory accession numbers or by entries in specified catalogues.

The analysis has been set out in 7 chapters. Chapter 1 ‘preservation and deposition’ starts with an assessment of the conditions under which wood survives and considers in detail the situation at the most productive sites for domestic wood in Roman Britain i.e. London, Carlisle, Vindolanda and York. This is then followed by a discussion on the different ways in which items of domestic wood have become incorporated in the archaeological record.

A different approach has been adopted for the material belonging to the large, unpublished assemblage from Vindonissa in compliance with a request from Prof. Fellmann who has been closely involved with the excavation and the analysis of the site since the early 1950s and intends eventually to publish the material himself. The material has been fully used in the research, but no item has been illustrated nor identified by its number in Prof. Fellmann’s catalogue.

Chapters 2 to 5 deal with the objects themselves, their morphology, their uses and manufacturing techniques. The main body of the material discussed originates from Roman Britain. It has been set out in two groups: personal items and communal objects. This divide is only a practical device and is based on the assumption that combs, accessories, footwear and lidded containers, such as carved and bentwood boxes, pyxides and needlecases, were private

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1 Altino 2 Les Avrillages 3 Avenches 4 Brauron 5 Chalon sur Saône 6 Compierre 7 El Cigarralejo 8 Esch 9 Eschenz 10 Feddersee Moor 11 Feddersen Wierde 12 Fortuna Maris 13 Gulf of Fos 14 Hawara 15 Heddernheim 16 Herculaneum 17 Hjortspring 18 Kertch

19 Krefeld Gellep 20 La Tène 21 Les Martres de Veyre 22 Mangalia 23 Marseille 24 Montmaurin 25 Novae 26 Oberwinterthur 27 Oberflacht 28 Pisa 29 Pommereoul 30 Port Vendres II 31 Pozzino 32 Praeneste 33 Rainau-Buch 34 Rézé lès Nantes 35 Saalburg

36 St Germain en Montagne 37 Saintes 38 Samos 39 Sistova 40 Taman 41 Touffréville 42 Uffing 43 Valkenburg 44 Velsen 1 45 Vechten 46 Vielle Toulouse 47 Ville sur Retourne 48 Vindonissa 49 Welzheim

Map I Main sites outside Britain mentioned in the text; (map by the author)

3

Entries in bold lettering, in Appendix 1 for sites in Britain and in Appendix 2 for sites outside Britain, indicate material that has been personally inspected.

The phasing used for Vindolanda has been given to this author by Robin Birley in 1998. Only one abbreviation has been used in the text: Pliny the Elder is ‘Pliny’ and his Natural History has been shortened to Nat. Hist.

Apart from a handful of exceptions, all clearly marked, no wood-species has been identified by this author. The information has been gathered from published and unpublished sources or has been made available to this author by the curators of the collections; the few wood identifications for the Vindolanda material have been kindly communicated by Jon Hather. Wood-species are referred to, in the corpora, by their Latin names since the information was made available to the author in that form; a glossary of wood-species is appended. In the text, on the other hand, the English equivalent is consistently used with the exception of pomoideae which stands for pomaceous fruit trees (apple/pear/hawthorn).

Finally, a word on illustrations. This is a work about wooden objects. The overwhelming majority of illustrations represent sections and profiles of items in wood. A new set of conventions was required in order to achieve a unified approach to presentation. In most cases illustrations have been standardised to a simplified format with no naturalistic rendering. Sections have normally been blocked in except when the direction of the grain of the wood was a consideration. In that case, (and that is especially true for tableware), the grain of the wood has been represented with the direction of the hatching; when the information was not available the section has been left blank. In items made out of burrs, the section has been filled with cross-hatching. A number of illustrations from publications have been redrawn to fit this standardised format; they are indicated with an asterisk in the caption. Representations of the few items not made of wood have been identified, whenever practical, by blocking sections with a lighter fill.

All the sites considered in this research have been designated by their present name with the exception of Vindolanda (now Chesterholm) and Vindonissa (now Windisch) which are better known through their ancient toponyms. The names have not been italicised for the sake of simplicity.

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1 PRESERVATION AND DEPOSITION

1.1 PRESERVATION CONDITIONS Like other organic materials, wood is subject to attacks from various microscopic decay agents present in any environment; these are bacteria, fungi and yeasts. They colonise and feed on the organic material which forms the wood cells i.e. cellulose and lignin. In 1960, in the course of the Overton Down experiment, billets of different species of wood were buried in a chalk and turf man-made bank with other organic materials with the purpose of investigating the pace of the decay process. When the billets were examined in 1966 it was discovered that they were infested with fungi (Jewell and Dimbleby 1966).

dormant. As Rayner and Boddy (1988, 3) explain, the requirements for survival are not the same as the requirements for growth: there are few reports of decay fungi killed by low temperatures and in dry conditions such organisms will survive.

1.1.2 ANAEROBIC AND ANOXIC CONDITIONS An anaerobic environment, i.e. one without air or oxygen, can be created by waterlogging. In this process the cell air is progressively replaced by water. The chemistry of waterlogged archaeological soils has never been the object of close scrutiny (Caple and Dungworth 1997, 234) and the effects of water saturation of the wood cells on the decay fungi are still poorly understood. Such effects include inhibition of fungi enzyme activity and the development of physical barriers that the hypha (i.e. the constituent fibre of the mycelium, the fungus body) cannot cross in order to move from cell to cell. Water saturation also constrains growth by limiting the oxygen supply and altering the gaseous regime in the wood (Rayner and Boddy 1988, 8).

The conditions in which the growth and development of these micro-organisms can be checked are varied. A sterile micro-environment can be created by the toxic by-products of metal decay: that is why iron or copper alloy fittings are sometimes found with remnants of wood attached. It is also known that charred remains do not deteriorate markedly because carbon is chemically stable and very few organisms can digest it (Taylor 1981, 7). However, as a general rule, the survival of wood is linked to environments in which decay agents are starved of the essentials of life i.e. warmth, water and oxygen. This happens in climatic extremes and in anaerobic or anoxic environments.

In a wet environment, moreover, the decay of one class of organics (e.g. small wooden objects) can be checked by specific chemical compounds produced by other materials decomposing in the immediate vicinity. This observation may be relevant to the situation at Vindolanda which can be usefully considered in detail since it illustrates well the complexity of the process of deposition and survival.

1.1.1 CLIMATIC EXTREMES Instances of preservation of wood in extremely cold conditions cannot be quoted for the Roman world as it developed in the temperate zone. There are, however, known examples in Eskimo sites and in the burial mounds of the steppe nomads at Pazyryk in southern Siberia. Preservation in extremely dry environments is equally rare in Europe with the exception of the burial mounds in the Crimean steppe and in the Taman peninsula in which a number of wooden artefacts with Hellenistic and Roman dates have survived (Vaulina and Wasowicz 1974; Pinelli and Wasowicz 1986).

In his environmental analysis of the deposits from the pre-Hadrianic forts at Vindolanda, Seaward (1993, 116) drew attention to the peculiarity of the medium in which the artefacts were embedded. In periods II to V, (AD 90 to 140), the timber buildings were floored with layers of bracken mixed with straw and mosses. These deposits, which the excavator referred to as ‘laminated floors’, have been interpreted as a form of carpeting and a preventive measure against damp conditions. As successive buildings were demolished and re-erected, these strata were levelled and sealed under compacted layers of turf and clay. Seaward attributed the

It is important to point out, however, that to ensure preservation these environments must remain unaltered: micro-organisms may not grow under such inhibiting conditions, but they will be present and

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survival of a remarkable quantity of organic material (from the bracken debris themselves to textiles, leather and wooden artefacts) to the chemistry of the environment besides the damp, anaerobic conditions. He stressed the role of the tannins produced by the decomposing plant cells and by the leather (or for the leather, if tanning was the purpose of the building). These, together with the insecticidal properties of bracken (which may have been responsible for the demise of the stable flies that never hatched, and the survival of viable bacteria spores - Seaward 1993, 100), might have created a quasi-sterile environment in which no life form could prosper. He also noted the presence of vivianite, an iron and phosphate compound with a bacteriostatic effect (Biek 1965, 143ff).

soft rot fungus, on the other hand, will only be active when the other two are not operational i.e. under conditions of water saturation. Examination of wooden structures in cooling towers has shown that there are fungi active in fresh or brackish water (Rayner and Boddy 1988, 473). Bacteria can also operate in anoxic conditions and are able to digest cellulose and lignin. Although purely bacteria-induced decomposition is a slow process (ibid., 131), the combination of the two, fungi and bacteria, can have a marked effect. Examination of the timbers from the Sweet Track has shown evidence of advanced decay and microbial activity which had occurred in the few years when the structure was exposed prior to peat covering (Carruthers 1979, 95).

Seaward’s theory was formulated as early as 1976 (Seaward 1976). In his 1993 report he had little to add to it; he actually cast doubts on the role of the bracken: ‘bracken may contribute much or little’ (Seaward 1993, 116). Pending further research the matter must rest unresolved; indeed the retrieval of wooden and other organic material from areas devoid of bracken (e.g. from the ditch of period I wooden fort and from room VIII, period III - Birley 1994, 24ff and 71) justifies such caution.

1.1.3 DIFFERENTIAL PRESERVATION It must also be borne in mind that the items considered in this study might have been attacked by decay agents during their useful life even in a sheltered home environment. Equally, after deposition, a suitably protective microclimate might take some time to develop: by then a small objet, and they are all small down to a few mm in diameter for the hairpins, might easily have disappeared. There is a different rate of preservation for fixed wooden structures (which are large and will not float) and small items that can easily be trampled or crushed beyond recognition in the immediate period following deposition and before a protective environment can develop. Moreover, even in similar circumstances, comparable items will fare differently.

The situation at Vindolanda is extremely complex and the survival of organic material in the preHadrianic deposits is the result of a combination of factors. Firstly, the site is wet from high rainfall, numerous springs and possibly a rise in the water table; this has maintained a diffuse dampness in the deep levels of the ground. Secondly, as Robin Birley explains in his introduction in the 1993 report (Birley (ed.) 1993, ix), the process of demolition of successive buildings did not involve digging down into the foundations. After the removal of the sound timbers, the site was not cleared: it was levelled. Many artefacts, either lost or discarded, were left in place. Thirdly, the surface was sealed with turf and clay: these multiple layers created the anaerobic conditions in which the embedded deposits survived. Finally, the rapid succession of building activity ensured that there was no abandonment phase: artefacts were not left exposed to the elements nor to rotting agents for a significant period of time.

A suitable example of differential preservation in a protected environment (a well in this case) is provided by Harlow L009. This lath-walled vessel (see page 96) was recovered from the bottom of a well at Harlow in Essex. It is incomplete and in very fragmentary conditions. Carole Morris’s reconstruction (Morris forthcoming a) holds, although her interpretation as a bucket is open to question; it is discussed in the relevant section. A vessel of similar construction and diameter (see page 97) was recovered in much better conditions also from a well, at the depth of 6 metres where it had been protected by a ledge (Rezé lès Nantes, - well B; Service régional de l’archéologie des pays de Loire Nantes, pers. comm.).

A waterlogged environment, though, is not a guarantee of preservation of wooden remains since while most decay agents need oxygen, some can survive in its absence. Of the three main categories of decay fungi, brown rot (feeding on cellulose) and white rot (feeding mainly on the lignin, but also on cellulose) will be inhibited by water saturation. The

Herculaneum, Pompei and the other settlements close to Vesuvius offer another example of differential

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preservation. They were all obliterated in the course of the same event i.e. the eruption of AD 79 but not in the same way. Pompei was buried under large quantities of lightweight pumice and ash in the ‘explosive phase’ of the eruption. Herculaneum, on the other hand, because of the topography, the direction of the prevailing winds and its proximity to the volcano, was hit by no less than six pyroclastic flows i.e. successive avalanches of pumice, ash, mud and gases at exceedingly high temperature and moving at ground level. The material fused, solidified and sealed the town under 20m thick layer of ignimbrite which is a form of tufa (Sigurdsson et al. 1982). The hot material instantly carbonised the wood and this explains the survival of a comparatively large number of items of furniture (as many as forty one); they have been studied by Mols (Mols 1998). Smaller domestic objects in wood did not fare very well. Apart from the three plates

described on page 103, only three sliding lid boxes, a small turned bowl and two very battered combs have survived. The reasons for such a dearth are twofold. For a start, the matrix into which the deposits were embedded is now rock-hard and the excavation techniques in the past may have been unsuitable for the recovery of small, fragile, organic objects. Secondly, there may have been a problem with the organisation of the necessary conservation procedures. In his account of the discovery of Herculaneum, Maiuri talks about the recovery of damp wooden objects damaged by pressure, hopelessly drying up upon exposure (Maiuri 1958, 342) as if there was no attempt at saving them. Finally, the size of the artefacts in question does suggest that most of them would easily have been burned on the domestic fire at end of their useful life. Wood is the one sort of rubbish that is totally and readily recyclable and small items stand no chance.

1.2 DISTRIBUTION With the above considerations in mind, it is possible to turn to an examination of the provenance of the finds of Roman domestic wood in Britain. As Map II shows, the bulk (220 items) comes from three sites: Carlisle, London and Vindolanda.

Valley Lake in Somerset, the 10m deep well contained just four combs, a few tablet fragments, a spindle whorl and a crude fork. That is the total count of domestic wooden artefacts from it. Such a small sample cannot be blamed on a hostile environment: 1970 twigs and branches and 53 pieces of cut wood did survive (Biek 1965, table 6). Obviously if no other wooden artefacts of domestic character were found in it, it is because they were never there.

This figure refers only to the objects of a domestic nature considered for this study. In Britain structural wood of Roman date is not an uncommon occurrence; equally barrels recycled as well linings have an impressive rate of survival. As a general rule, though, while excavations of Roman features with pits, ditches and wells may easily have some worked wood, domestic artefacts in a recognisable state are elusive. The reasons for this situation are complex.

It is only when the original settlement environment has been altered by the rise of the water table that the right scenario is set for the preservation of organics and, among them, of domestic artefacts in large quantities. This appears to be the case for both Carlisle and Vindolanda.

The settlement pattern in Roman Britain is certainly not conducive to large-scale preservation of domestic wooden objects. Villas, urban centres, forts and rural settlements did not develop in wetlands. Water, an essential requirement of the household, was transported by aqueducts or tapped by wells. Even so, wells, although an important source of evidence, only account for a fraction of the finds. In some instances the lowering of the water table has caused wells to dry up and induced the subsequent decay of any organic deposits. On the whole, moreover, it would appear that not many artefacts were disposed of in wells anyway. It is interesting to note that at Chew

The layout of the fort at Carlisle is only known in its southernmost portion (the rest is obscured by the overlying Norman castle). The area was described as waterlogged by the excavators (MacCarthy et al. 1989, 298); this is true also for the fort annex at least for the earlier phases (MacCarthy 1991, 3 and 5), and for parts of the civilian development (MacCarthy et al. 1989, 299). Similarly at Vindolanda the sequence of timber buildings belonging to the early wooden forts was preserved by the widespread damp conditions and the other factors already mentioned. It is not possible to know how wet these sites were in

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ROMAN

Urban

London 5 Dorchester 6 Exeter 7 Bath 8 Harlow 27 Winchester

Rural

Military

9 Farmoor 11 Odell 34 Victoria Cave 38 Rothwell Colliery 39 Scole Dickleburgh 41 Burntwick Island

Vindolanda Carlisle York 10 Tarraby 12 Cirencester 13 Cramond 14 Bar Hill 15 Balmuildy 16 Portchester 17 Castle Cary 18 Caernarfon 19 Newstead 20 Corbridge 21 Ribchester 22 Birdoswald 23 Castleford 24 Beauport Park 35 Alchester

Burial

Villa

1 Chew Valley Lake 2 Fishbourne 3 Dalton Parlours 4 Wickford 36 Shakenoak 37 Combe Down

25 Chester 26 Chichester 28 Lankshill 29 Whitchurch 30 Towcester 31 Norwich 32 Whitcombe

Number of items ¢ Over 50 Ø Fewer than 20 • Fewer than 10 Wreck

33 Guernsey PRE ROMAN 42 Glastonbury 43 Wookey Hole 44 Breiddin Hillfort MEDIEVAL 40 Ledaig Crannog

Map II Sites in Britain with finds of domestic wooden artefacts discussed in the text; (map by the author).

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the Roman occupation in the 1st century AD. The streamlets were canalised by timber revetments and the marshy ground within individual valleys was reclaimed by dumping clay or gravel. This activity continued well into the 3rd century and the area was extensively built over. It is clear, however, that even in Roman times the ground was not draining properly. This conclusion is borne out by the environmental analysis and by the archaeological evidence showing the digging of drainage ditches and a pattern of dumping in order to raise the ground level. The lack of maintenance of the man-made drainage system plus a downstream blockage of the Walbrook, due to activities by the Thames shore, were mainly to blame for the situation (Maloney 1990, 123). The area was eventually abandoned in the 4th century and became a wetland.

antiquity, if at all. In their present condition, they would have been an unlikely choice for the military. Both Hyginus (De munitionibus castrorum 57) and Vegetius (Epitoma rei militaris 3, 8) had warned against the excessive proximity of watercourses to the camp and the possibility of flooding. The locations were clearly selected on strategic grounds: Vindolanda was one day’s march to the west of Corbridge and close to the Stanegate, an important axis of communication. Carlisle was situated at the confluence of the Eden and the Caldew at the western end of the same road where the Stanegate joined the main north-south line of communication. In the case of Vindolanda, however, it is very likely that at least at the southern end the water did not drain properly even in antiquity. The persistent use of ‘laminated floors’ coverings does suggest that dampness was a problem (Birley 1994, 42).

Vindolanda, Carlisle and London account for 220 out of a total of 343 remains from Britain considered in this survey. The balance comes from a variety of locations shown in Map II. For most of them the scarcity of artefacts is a clear reflection of the immediate surroundings: no wet grounds, a low water table, just a well or a pit where a particular microclimate developed. For others, the situation is more complex: York and Ribchester are two notable instances.

The third location with a large collection of wooden domestic material is London. The provenance of the finds can be roughly divided in four groups. In the first one some items are stray finds from the Roman Thames foreshore, others are mainly 19th century discoveries handed in, over the years, to the British Museum, to the Museum of London or to its predecessor, the Guildhall Museum, with little documentation. They are classified as ‘Roman’ on the basis of the area of provenance and of the great depth at which they were found. A notable exception in this category is the assemblage from Southwark (Pirie and Saunders 1990) found in an area devoid of buildings and interpreted as a shipping depot never recovered; it is discussed on page 141. The assemblage is closely dated by the associated pottery to no later than the early 2nd century AD.

In his publication on Roman York, Patrick Ottaway (1993, 13) remarked that ‘another factor favouring preservation arises from York’s low lying situation which means that it has been greatly affected by the gradual rise of the water table since Roman times. In many areas of the city, archaeological layers have become waterlogged and this has ensured the remarkable and unusual survival of organic materials from timber building to ancient meals’. Such favourable conditions have not extended to domestic wooden artefacts. It follows therefore that if they were present, they were not deposited and did not become incorporated in the archaeological record. Only a limited quantity of wooden artefacts of a domestic character (12 in all), were found in a welldefined area of the colonia in its northernmost corner (Rougier St., Tanner Row and Wellington Row sites). The area was a commercial development along the main south-western approach route leading to the porta praetoria of the fortress situated on the other side of the Ouse. It was, in Roman times, a low-lying area prone to flooding (Ottaway 1993, 40). Its level was substantially raised in antiquity (almost 5m, ibid. fig. 39). Large amounts of refuse might have been brought to it and allowed to accumulate. Furthermore, these deposits were left undisturbed in medieval times as the main river crossing moved south.

Wells are the second source (Wilmott 1982). Finds are frequent and of remarkable quality: perhaps the reflection of a throw-away society. A third group of artefacts originated from the waterlogged rubbish infilling of the 3rd century Roman quay on the Thames (Miller et al. 1986). Finally, a certain amount of material comes from the Walbrook, an area which was altered in Roman times and experienced the process of paludification (Caple and Dungworth 1997, 234), i.e. the development of a man-made wetland. The area was criss-crossed in antiquity by a network of minor streams flowing into the Walbrook, a river draining into the Thames and bisecting the City of London. A programme of reclamation and drainage was initiated at the onset of

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Ribchester is also a puzzle. This fort, with a long occupation and a vicus, was excavated in 1980 and 1989/90 (Howard-Davis and Whitworth forthcoming). The site was extensively waterlogged and the quantity of surviving wood so large that a sampling programme was set up. Even so, the number of pieces retained for further examination is an impressive 18,000. Out of these, fewer than one hundred are artefacts (80 pegs and bungs, five staves, one mallet, three possible tool handles, two spades, two weaving combs, one bobbin and some ‘objects’). Two only are domestic, namely the combs (Ribchester C119 and C120). Turned vessels may

have been present but the evidence is very scant. The scarcity of wooden artefacts was remarked upon by the excavators. It was suggested that while tent pegs were made on site as required, other wooden items reached the fort as finished products (ibid., 93) and possibly left it as well, as they were not lost nor discarded in any meaningful quantity. It is of course possible that since Ribchester has not been fully excavated (ibid., 92) and most of the excavation so far covers the vicus, artefact concentrations may be identified elsewhere in the course of further investigations. Deposition strategies should therefore be considered in this context.

1.3 DEPOSITION conditions. Small objects dropped on such vegetable mass could soon become embedded and disappear from sight.

1.3.1 RUBBISH The evidence suggests that most artefacts were discarded as rubbish: on heaps (e.g. most of the Carlisle wooden shoe soles scattered around the fort interior - Caruana forthcoming a) or in pits and latrines (e.g. other material from Carlisle - Tomlin 1998). Equally ditches (e.g. York, Rougier St.), infills and wells (see the London examples above) were used for the same purpose.

1.3.3 WRECKS Wrecks must also be considered under this heading though they only contribute five items to the body of evidence from Britain. Two pyxis lids (London P007 and P008) were retrieved from the barge that sunk by Blackfriars Bridge in London (Marsden 1965, 50-51), while a vessel of dubious reconstruction (Guernsey T037), a carved spoon blank (Guernsey T065) and a carved ash spatula (Guernsey T065) come from the 3rd century wreck excavated at St. Peter’s Port in the island of Guernsey.

1.3.2 CHANCE LOSS Chance loss is difficult to prove and differentiate from rubbish disposal. It can however be postulated for some categories of objects such as the needlecases. These are artefacts of complex manufacture and have been recovered in good condition with their content. They can hardly have been thrown away. London P029 was found in Southwark and may have been part of a trade depot or a shipping consignment never retrieved. Carlisle P032 comes from under the fort rampart (Caruana forthcoming a). Vindolanda P030 was found wrapped in cloth with 33 needles on the floor of the period II praetorium (Birley 1994, 45). It is equally difficult to believe that Vindolanda C026, the complete comb still in its leather case, could be anything but a chance loss. The widespread presence of ‘laminated floors’ in the early levels at Vindolanda could have been a contributing factor to the loss of small objects. Almost all floors of the period II to V buildings were found covered by a variable thickness of bracken, mosses and straw (up to 30cm in some places) as a protection possibly against prevalent damp

Wrecks have a much higher profile in the Mediterranean where they have been identified in larger numbers and in two instances have produced a wealth of domestic wooden artefacts. The barge from Comacchio (Berti 1990) is especially noticeable because of the variety and quantity of material which included even a cargo of boxwood logs (see page 68). The Pozzino wreck off the coast of Tuscany on the other hand, contained an impressive collection of small drilled pyxides with a late 2nd century BC date (see page 87).

1.3.4 INTENDED DEPOSITION 1.3.4.1 BURIALS

The number of domestic wooden artefacts retrieved from burials in Britain is minute and that may be the

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consequence of the general acidity of the soil and the lack of a suitable protective environment. Apart from the unexplained survival of a fragmentary comb (Lankhills C102), one can quote few instances of preservation of mirror boxes either by charring in cremations (e.g. Whitchurch M009) or by the proximity of metal (e.g. Towcester M012).

Toulouse in south-western Gaul. According to his account, when the consul L. Servilius Caepio conquered the city in 106 BC, he pillaged the site and was said to have departed with 110,000 pounds of silver and almost as much gold. The 1st century AD hoard discovered on Anglesey in 1943 at Llyn Cerrig Bach testifies to the persistence of the custom of votive deposits in Britain up to Roman times (Fox C. 1945). These examples, however, are not relevant to the present enquiry since they do not concern domestic wooden artefacts. Caesar’s account points clearly to spoils of war; Strabo’s description talks of precious metals. The Llyn Cerrig Bach hoard with its weapons, harness fittings, slave chains and tools is very much along the same lines.

The examination of Roman burials on the continent has shown, on the other hand, that wooden domestic objects were deposited, at times, in larger numbers. Two significant examples can be quoted. The late 1st/2nd century AD inhumation graves at Les Martres de Veyre in the Auvergne (Audollent 1922) are known for their unusual preservation conditions due to the replacement of air with toxic carbonic acid from the nearby mineral springs. The ensuing bacteria-free environment allowed the preservation of an impressive variety of organic materials ranging from human tissue and hair, to textiles, foodstuff, leather and personal possessions made in wood which included pyxides, wood-soled footwear, combs and rings. Equally, on the northern shores of the Black Sea especially in the areas around Kertch and Taman, domestic wooden material with Hellenistic and Roman dates has survived in conditions of extreme dryness because of the practice of sealing monumental tombs with large, compacted earth tumuli (Vaulina and Wasowicz 1974, 20). Here again the wooden objects (apart from the sarcophagi) belong to the category of personal possessions. It is noticeable that, in both cases, containers either in pottery or basketry, not wooden ones, were used for food offerings.

The custom of votive offers in wet places did persist in the Roman world. It still involved metal but weapons gave way to other objects, mainly coins, as a form of reward to the gods for an oracle or an act of healing. This was a widespread custom. It was present in Italy as Pliny the Younger’s description of the glimmering coins in the sacred spring of the Clitumnus in central Italy, testifies (Pliny the Younger, Epistolae 8, 8). It flourished on Hadrian’s Wall at Brocolitia (modern Carrawburgh) where 13,000 coins were recovered from Coventina’s Well. There is no evidence, however, that any wooden objects were, at any stage, involved in this practice and none of the items considered in this research was recovered from a proven votive deposit in a wet place. Wood is a poor medium for ritual offerings in water, as it will float unless it is a vessel and is weighed down by its content and Earwood’s assumption (1993, 15) that the numerous wooden artefacts from the Sources de la Seine were intended for ritual deposition in the water is misleading. As Deyts explains (1983, 203), the artefacts were not found in situ but were transported by flooding to their findspot and the same applies to the material from Chamallières in the Auvergne (Vatin 1969, 320). Things may be slightly different for Luxeil (HauteSaône) where votive figurines were recovered from the temple favissa 150m from the thermal spring (Deyts 1983, 185). This certainly does not prove that the artefacts were in the spring to start with. The use of these wooden objects for ritual purposes is not in doubt; they were, however, intended to stand around the wet place; they were not meant to be deposited in it. The discussion is relevant to Henig’s suggestion (Henig et al.1988, 5) that the few wooden finds from the reservoir enclosing the Sacred Spring at Bath were of a ritual character. This site has produced only

The available evidence for burial deposition of wooden domestic objects remains very slight but one could tentatively suggest that only very personal items would find their way into a burial. 1.3.4.2 VOTIVE DEPOSITS

The practice of ritual offerings in wet places (springs, bogs and rivers) is well known from prehistoric contexts both in Britain and in Europe (Bradley R. 1990). The finds from Thorsberg, Vimose, Nydam and Hjortspring outside the Empire in the Germania Libera testify to the continuation of the tradition well into Roman times. These finds represent a variety of votive deposits including weapons, wooden vessels, boxes and even clothing (Todd 1975, 183ff). The custom was described in general terms for preRoman Gaul by Caesar (De Bello Gallico 6, 17). Strabo (Geography 4, 1, 13) offers a vivid account of the aurum tolosanum deposited in a sacred lake at

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six combs (Bath C125 to C130) and a box lid (Bath L008). This assemblage contrasts unfavourably with the abundance of undoubted votive deposits such as the lead curse tablets and the coins. Some items of jewellery and a fraction of the metal vessels recovered could equally belong to that category. Loss of archaeological deposits of any kind must be imputed to previous excavations (especially Davis’s in 1879 when he removed many tons of sand and rubble - Cunliffe and Davenport 1985, 18ff) and to the make-up of the site itself. In order to cope with the tendency of Sacred Spring to carry sand, the Roman engineers had provided the reservoir with an outfall sluice. Therefore, while the heavy objects would sink in the viscous mass and become trapped at the bottom, the lighter ones would be shovelled out with the water whenever the sluice was opened for periodic scouring. The only other outlet of the reservoir was a duct to the Great Bath (Cunliffe and Davenport 1985, 40). With a daily output of some 250,000 gallons, the water in the Sacred Spring was hardly still; anything light, like a comb, would float

away to the Great Bath, hardly a suitable scenario for a votive offering. The considerations outlined above do not apply of course to the dry land and one instance for the use of a wooden vessel in a votive context has been proposed by Ottaway (1993, 39 and fig. 17) for York T045, the wooden bowl from Wellington Row. This artefact was found underneath a spread of hazelnut branches (some of them bearing nuts) in the earliest layers of the road leading from the Southwest to the river crossing and to the porta praetoria of the fortress. At first, it was thought that the branches were some kind of ground preparation for the road because of the natural softness of the terrain. This hypothesis however was discarded as the method would not have been effective; the normal procedure observed elsewhere in the building of Roman roads involved the use of wattle and timberwork. According to the excavator, the bowl and its content represented a foundation deposit by the roadbuilders of Legio IX in honour of some local deity.

1.4 CONCLUSIONS In conclusion, it can be stated that the distribution of Roman domestic wooden artefacts is seriously biased both in terms of space and time. Since preservation is broadly linked to sealed, undisturbed, waterlogged deposits, earlier items are more likely to survive. The dating of the objects themselves is also a problem; these small items are normally dated by the associated material. They cannot be dated independently nor stylistically since there is no reliable framework. The dating is therefore sometimes very loose (‘Roman’) or deceptively narrow. The two boxes with metal decoration from Vindolanda (L001 and L003) dated to the 90s are, for example, probably older than the material of the context in which they were discarded.

absence of suitable environmental conditions. They certainly were not wanting at Odell, a site in Bedfordshire stretching from the Iron Age to the Saxon period. As many as four wells, a ditch and three other productive contexts can be listed for the Romano-British phase. They have preserved a fair amount of worked wood beside the comb. Finds include pegs, bucket staves, planks, a couple of basket bases, fragments of basket weave, one writing tablet and the sole of a crook ard (Dix forthcoming; his analysis does not include material listed in another folder dealing with exclusively with wood and deposited at the National Monument Register in Swindon. Insker, Bedford Museum, pers. comm.). A total of only two sites does not allow for any general conclusions concerning rural locations. The absence, in rural sites, of upmarket products requiring an expert hand and specialist tools, like the turned material may not be surprising. High-status artefacts however, have occasionally been found in modest settlements. One striking example is the mirror from Holcombe in Devon described by Fox (Fox A. 1974). This exceptional artefact was retrieved from a pit near a very modest round house. According to the excavator (Pollard 1974, 70), it had been hidden in the pit to protect it against the

Moreover, while concentrations of finds in highly romanised contexts (forts and urban areas) may support extrapolating from the few villa finds on the grounds of similarities of status, Romano-British rural settlements remain very poorly represented and no firm conclusions can be drawn in that respect. Apart from Odell and Farmoor (which only account for two items, a comb, Odell C121, and a bowl, Farmoor T034), there are no objects from a secure Romano-British rural settlement context. Such lack of evidence can only be imputed, up to a point, to the

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advancing Roman army. This may well explain how the mirror arrived in the pit; it does not, unfortunately, help to understand how a luxury good of that calibre arrived in such modest surroundings in the first instance. The lack in rural sites of more ordinary artefacts, wood-soled footwear and plain kitchen equipment for instance, is certainly puzzling. They were either never present but more likely they were thoroughly disposed of in the domestic hearth. Given this situation and the many conflicting factors impinging on the preservation and deposition of these artefacts, an analysis of the distribution will not be attempted except tentatively for the combs which are comparatively abundant and account for almost half the total of the sample considered.

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2 PERSONAL OBJECTS: COMBS and ACCESSORIES

2.1 COMBS The artefact discussed in this section is the hair comb. Whether inspired by the human hand which first may have acted as a comb to prevent hair from matting (Pinto 1952, 170) or by fish backbone (Watts 1994, 54), the comb is probably the most ancient grooming artefact. It has been manufactured since antiquity in a variety of materials ranging from ivory, horn and bone to metal and wood. A specimen from the Far East made of the coarse ribs of a leaf and bound with fine basketwork, can be seen in the Hunterian Museum in Glasgow.

contexts (Harris 1927, 1). These artefacts are small and have a few teeth on one side only. The idea and indeed the need for two sets of teeth with different spacings, appear to have arisen later. Rather than placing them side by side, the teeth were cut on the opposite ends of a central bar: the resulting design is known as the H comb (fig. 2.2). The earliest instances of this design are both in ivory and come from Megiddo in Israel (13th century BC Bowers 1987, 6) and from Nimrud (9th century BC Pinto 1952, 170). This style was known in Archaic Greece both in ivory (e.g. the sanctuary of Artemis Orthia in Sparta, 6th to 8th century BC - Vaulina and Wasowicz 1974, 155) and in wood (Athenian Agora, 6th century BC, olive wood -Thompson H. 1955, 270). These items were rather wide and narrow. Measurements for the complete wooden comb from the Agora are 136mm (width) and 100mm (length). The terminals are concave, a characteristic of the archaic period (Vaulina and Wasowicz 1974, 155). According to the same authors, combs from the Hellenistic period were not much different in size but had straight terminals.

2.1.1 THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE DESIGN The earliest known European combs date from the late Neolithic and have been found in the Alpine lake villages. Fig. 2.1 shows a boxwood comb from Charavines in the Swiss Alps. It was manufactured with the assistance of a flint blade used to separate the teeth by repeated scoring. Teeth were then sharpened to a point as the facets at the tips of the teeth clearly indicate.

While it may be difficult to distinguish between Archaic and Hellenistic combs, Roman H combs do stand out quite distinctly. They are much longer than they are wide and have, in the majority of cases, convex terminals. The development in the length of the artefact was normally achieved for ivory, bone and horn by the introduction of the composite comb. In this artefact the teeth are cut in several plates set side by side, sandwiched between two strips of the same material and secured with iron or bronze rivets. This artifice was not required for the wooden combs; they could be made longer provided that raw material of the appropriate size could be obtained. The finds from Roman Britain constitute a large sample in which a variety of styles are represented. The assemblage has been used by the author, with occasional references to continental material, to establish a typology and work out manufacturing techniques. This chapter also contains an analysis of the distribution and of the uses of the artefact and closes by dealing with the craft of pectinarii, the Roman combmakers. The detailed description of the

Fig. 2.1 Late Neolithic boxwood comb from Charavines in the Alps (Noël and Boquet 1987, fig.9 and 10). Outside Europe, combs in both bone and wood, dating to 3300-3000 BC, were recovered by Petrie at Negada and Ballas in the Nile Valley in funerary

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Fig. 2.2 The H comb and terms used; (drawing by the author). manufacturing techniques is contained in the section dealing with experimental archaeology (see page 175).

So far, three items only have been positively identified as a different wood-species namely Cirencester C104 (larch or Norway spruce) and Chew Valley Lake C090 and C091 in the wood of a fruit tree namely Prunus. Since Morris’s list of medieval wooden combs (Morris 1984, M394 to M408) mentions oak, hawthorn, hazel, crab apple and ash, as well as boxwood then too the prevalent species used, it is not inconceivable that these and other species were employed in earlier times especially for plain artefacts. Apart from the Vindolanda assemblage, it would be interesting to analyse the wood of the Bath group (C125 to C131) and especially of Bar Hill C144. The latter certainly does not look like boxwood with its long fibres; what is more, this same site has already produced an anomalous find, namely Bar Hill P013, a turned lidded box made of willow instead of the customary boxwood.

2.1.2 ROMAN WOODEN COMBS IN BRITAIN The sample consists of 153 wooden combs for which provenance, dating and morphology have been noted. All details are not always available: most combs are fragmentary (the complete combs number less than one quarter of the total); others are old or stray finds with no precise chronological context. 2.1.2.1 THE RAW MATERIAL

One interesting aspect, which could not always be fully investigated, is the wood-species employed. Since antiquity the common box (Buxus sempervirens see page 68 for a full discussion of the species) was the favoured material for the purpose to the extent that, in the classical literature, the term ‘buxus’ was used as synonym for hair comb (Ovid, Fasti 6, 229). Boxwood was the only material quoted in Diocletian’s Edict of Maximum Prices for ladies’ wooden combs (13, 8). The possibility of alternative wood-species was mentioned for weaving equipment (ibid. 13, 2-4), but not for hair combs.

2.1.2.2 TYPOLOGY

When Vaulina and Wasowicz set out to establish a typology for the Kertch wooden combs housed in the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg, they remarked that it was not an easy task. According to them, combs, not altogether an infrequent find, were frequently neglected; moreover, the shape of the artefact had altered very little over the centuries (Vaulina and Wasowicz 1974, 155). It is certainly true that H combs have remained in use and have not changed their basic shape up to the middle of the 20th century. It is the introduction of moulded combs in man-made materials that allowed the manufacture of artefacts of any length with teeth side by side rather than back to back. Moreover, the sample from the Hermitage was only eleven strong. The present analysis is based on a larger population.

Worked boxwood does have peculiar properties that give it a feel close to ivory and bone. It does not splinter and will not therefore catch hair. It can be worked to a dull point that does not injure the delicate skin of the scalp. The sample shows a distinct prevalence of this material. There are, however, gaps; the Vindolanda assemblage covering almost one third of the total of the sample, has unfortunately not yet been examined for wood identification.

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Fig. 2.3 Terminal styles (drawing by the author). catalogue numbers in footnotes, too many are photographed, not drawn and therefore the section is not known. A number of combs are old finds divorced from their original context. This state of affairs is all the more regrettable given the delicate nature of the artefact. The criteria used to establish the new typology proposed here, are based on the shape of the terminals and on the use of the central bar for ornamentation. (See fig. 2.2 for terms used). The terminal. There are seven basic shapes (fig. 2.3). • ‘Plain’. All H combs have terminals. They are functional and it is noticeable from Flinders Petrie’s (1927) plate 20 that terminals appear in the very early Egyptian single-sided combs as soon as for some reason teeth are cut fine. So, for instance, the Scandinavian Bronze Age horn comb (fig. 2.4) has no terminals since the teeth are quite coarse. The combs in this category have terminals of no definite shape. They are easily irregular, roughly pared with a knife and with work marks all too apparent. The vast majority of the items in the sample belong to this category. • ‘Compass cut’ (fig. 2.3a). This type of terminal is closely related to the curved shape of the central bar (known in the combmaker’s trade as the ‘compass cut’, Bowers 1987, 23). This is a very definite pattern with a number of carefully crafted specimens. Occasionally (e.g. York C139) the teeth are cut slightly radially, curving inwards on the sides and straightening towards the centre. This shape comb is longer than the average, well over 110mm to a maximum of 190mm (London C072); most items are made in boxwood and it cannot have been too easy to find billets that size. It is not surprising therefore that this shape

Fig. 2.4 The horn comb from the Skrydstrup grave in Denmark - size 76 by 80mm. National Museum of Danmark inv. No B12967; (photo National Museum of Denmark). The sample from Roman Britain includes over 150 items and is large enough to propose a typology. It appears, so far, that the body of evidence from Roman Britain is unique and has no counterpart on the continent. It is true that preservation conditions can be very good in Britain, but they can be equally favourable to the survival of organics in the Rhineland or in Gaul. The situation may reflect the scarce degree of attention given in general to these artefacts. Far too many combs are inadequately published, if at all. A large contingent only exists as

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should be associated with a professional hairdresser of some standing (fig. 2.5). ‘Sinuous’ (fig. 2.3b). On occasions, the terminal is carefully shaped to a sinuous curve as in Newstead C085 or Vindolanda C030 for instance. This style is not associated with any special decoration on the central bar but the artefact is normally carefully crafted. ‘D-shaped’ (fig. 2.3c). In this category the terminal is almost a semicircle normally thinned at the edges. The central bar is always ornamented with a wide cordon with a round or a square section which fades (e.g. London C082 and Vindolanda C028) or is truncated (Vindolanda C015) on the wide terminal. The best examples of combs of this style (fig. 2.6) come from the continent from the harbour installations at Pommereoul in Belgium dated to the 1st century AD (de Boë and Hubert 1977). The size of the combs of this style is fairly consistent. These combs tend to be rather small; for example Vindolanda C015 is only 40mm wide. As can be seen from the illustration, the workmanship of the combs from Pommereoul is remarkable because of the fine treatment of the teeth. The British specimens are normally wellmade though not achieving such a high level of craftsmanship. ‘Squared’ (fig. 2.3d). A number of combs have squared-off terminals carefully shaped with a sharp knife. They are normally wider than the average (London C061 is as much as 77mm wide). The central area occasionally tapers (e.g. London C070 and London C071 in which the outline of the teeth follows the curve of the central bar). Both size and shape of the teeth are very distinctive. The teeth display the following characteristics: they are long and are comparatively few on both sides (e.g. Bath C131 and London C061 have 3 teeth per 20mm on the coarse side and 12 and 10 respectively on the other side). The coarse teeth have been, at times, individually pared with a knife. All teeth are bottomed i.e. they are freestanding from the lowest saw mark (e.g. Bath C127 - fig. 2.7). These combs are normally carefully made. Fragmentary examples of this style can be differentiated from the ‘compass cut’ because of their width and clumsy tapering. ‘Angular’ (2.3e). A small number of combs have angular terminals which are certainly intended in Carlisle C117 but could be accidental in London C080 and C068, Carlisle C097 and Portchester C084. These combs have no other common characteristics and the sample is too small to be very informative.

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‘Fretted’ (fig. 2.3f). This last style is elaborate and reminiscent of bone and ivory segmented combs. The terminal is not solid but fretted. It is either the continuation of a cordon decoration on the central bar, which goes all the way around (Carlisle C108), or is a separate ornament as in Wickford Well C103 and Carlisle C110. Not surprisingly these combs have no common characteristics; they were probably manufactured on demand as single items.

Fig. 2.5 The funerary stele of Cyparenis a hairdresser (CIL VI 9727), showing the tools of her profession: an elegant ‘compass cut’ comb on the left and a discerniculum or acus discriminalis (a wooden pin for parting hair) on the right; (Saglio 1873, 239 fig. 5428).

Fig. 2.6 Combs from Pommereoul - scale 2:3; (De Boë and Hubert 1977, 52 fig.63). The central bar. The central is the transverse piece of the H comb. It is normally rather narrow. It measures as little as 6mm in Vindolanda C015 - a comb that is

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only 40mm wide; such narrowness may have been unavoidable in order to give some length to the teeth. In London C071, however, which is 67mm wide the central bar tapers to some 7mm. The fact is that the width of the central bar makes no difference to the strength of the artefact. Admittedly, most combs are broken along the central bar. They do break along the grain of the wood regardless of the width of the central bar: it is their weakest point. The width of the central bar is unhelpful in establishing a typology: it varies little; it does not appear to be a function of the decoration, when present, and ultimately depends on the size of the available raw material. A notable exception is Carlisle C116 which has an undecorated central area 40mm wide and is also unusually thin (4mm).

These fine grooves made with scratch stock are functional and do not constitute a decoration. Instances of carved decoration, on the other hand, show the use of grooves, sunken or raised cordons and chip-carving. Decoration is normally present on both sides of the artefact. Instances of combs ornamented only on one side are rare (Fishbourne C092, Cramond C123, Carlisle C110 and possibly London C082). Ornamental grooves are made either by repeated scoring or with a fine gouge: they are more substantial than the above-mentioned functional guidelines. They occur in two groups of twos on either side of the central bar (Chew Valley Lake C089 to C091 and Lankhills C102), in bundles of three (Fishbourne C092 and Portchester C084) and in pairs (e.g. Exeter C124). In this last group the grooves can be scored more heavily and achieve the effect of a cordon (fig. 2.8a). This pattern of grooves can be emphasised by a very deep and wide scoring and the result is a sunken cordon (fig.2.8b). The depression is then resolved near the terminal in a gentle curve (e.g. Vindolanda C005, C023, Cramond C123). Carlisle C108 is the exception with a sunken double cordon going all the way around and giving the terminal a fretted effect. In Chew Valley Lake C088, the delicate double sunken cordon terminates neatly before the ends. The whole piece is exceptional for its thinness (4mm) and for its expert craftsmanship reminiscent of ivory working.

Fig. 2.7 Bath C127 an example of a style of combs only present in southern Britain. The teeth are very coarse; they have been pared to a round section with a sharp blade and have been bottomed as the side view shows - scale 2:3; (drawing by the author).

Raised cordons (fig. 2.8c) require a different technique: the whole blank must be thinned. Such ornamentation can be rounded (e.g. Vindolanda C012, London C082) or angular (e.g. Vindolanda C034, C029 and Wickford Well C103). The cordon normally thins out towards the terminal. In the case of Wickford Well C103, the cordon comes to a neat end and the motif is picked up again in the terminal giving it a fretted effect. In several instances the cordon is wide and occupies the whole central bar: this style is associated with D-shaped terminals (e.g. Vindolanda C015, C028 and London C082). Chip-carving decoration occurs in three instances: in Vindolanda C001 (a star) and Vindolanda C016 (a zig-zag) and on the reverse of Carlisle C110 (see below and fig. 2.11). Chipcarving decorated combs have been found at the Saalburg (Jacobi H. 1914-24, table 6, no. 6 and

The decoration on the central bar is either structural or carved. • Structural decoration. The blank from which the comb is cut is a rectangular block with parallel sides. The long edges are thinned to a point while the central area remains flat so that the vice can grip it as explained in the section dealing with experimental combmaking (page 173). Both blanks and finished combs from Altino (Ferrarini 1992, fig. 9, 1-12) display this characteristic and most combs retain this basic profile. In some instances, on the other hand, the whole blank including the central bar has been shaped to a smooth curved section for improved appearance (e.g. London C061, C096 and C094). The ‘compass cut’, already referred to above, is also a form of structural decoration. • Carved decoration. It was customary to mark out the intended height of the teeth by scoring guidelines at their bases before cutting them.

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Fig. 2.8 Grooves and cordons on the central bar;(drawing by the author) •

7) which suggests that the material from Hadrian’s Wall has German connections. The central bar can also be used for scratched ownership graffiti as is the case for Fishbourne C092 (an owner whose name began with ‘CATA’) or for possible makers’ marks. As boxwood is one the hardest woods, the mark could only have been impressed on the blank with a metal die or with a seasoned boxwood stamp cut in the grain and applied to unseasoned material. Two examples are known namely London C075 (‘DIGNVS’) and Carlisle C087 (‘MARCELLIN LVGRAC’).

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denso dente’ – Tibullus, Elegiae 1, 9, 68), on the other, they are coarser and spaced. This is of course a relative notion. The ‘fine’ side in London C061 and C070, Portchester C084 and Bath C131 for example, has about the same density as the ‘coarse’ side for Vindolanda C005, C015, C038, Carlisle C106 and Bath C130. The two sets of teeth correspond to different uses which will be discussed later; in the majority of cases the ratio of coarse to fine is 1:2 or higher. Occasionally however, the dimorphism is less emphasised (e.g. Vindolanda C018: 13/18; C022: 12/17; and C051: 14/19; Portchester C084: 5/9; York C137: 12/17 and C139: 9/14). This may be attributed to poor workmanship or to the lack of appropriate tools as explained in the section on manufacturing. Height refers to that part of the tooth that is completely freestanding. Bottomed teeth are freestanding from the lowest saw mark. Height is a function of the width of the blank and of the style of the cutting. Normally the cut is performed at an angle from both sides of the comb which means that the teeth are shorter than they appear. Coarse or fine teeth as short as 10-15mm are not uncommon. This pattern is related to function and will be discussed later. Bottomed teeth (i.e. when the inverted ‘V’ section at the base of the tooth is removed in a separate operation) can be as much as 30mm tall (London C070 and Bath C127). Teeth are triangular in shape with the narrow base on the central bar. Fine teeth have, in most instances, sharp edges showing that they have not been filed. Coarse teeth on the other hand, can be thinned after cutting in order to space them out. The very coarse teeth of the ‘squared’ terminal style were pared with a sharp blade to a round section.

2.1.2.3 ANALYSIS OF THE SAMPLE

This author is only too aware of the shortcomings of the present sample for the purpose of a statistical analysis. For a start, it is biased: wood only survives in specific environments. Secondly, the artefacts are often fragmentary and distorted. Moreover, while all the material is provenanced, some of the old finds mainly from London are not precisely dated while, in other instances, dating is not yet available. However, the sample is large: some general trends relating to morphology and distribution can tentatively be identified. Uncharacteristic specimens such as highstatus and single-sided combs are discussed at the end of the section. Morphology. Morphology includes an analysis of length, width and thickness.

Fig. 2.9 Winchester C145 showing the hybrid terminal - scale 2:3; (drawing by the author). Teeth. The teeth are the third element constituting a comb; they are not particularly relevant when establishing a typology with the exception of the tall, coarse teeth of the combs with a ‘squared’ terminal. Their density, height and shape are presently considered. • Density is measured in units over a 20mm length. In the H comb two sets of teeth are present: on one side, the teeth are fine and packed (‘pecten

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graves before AD 350 (Clarke 1979, 369). This may be true for this country though, for example, the trinket box from the Railway Cemetery in York (RCHME 1962, 82b) could easily have contained a wooden comb to go with the bronze mirror which has survived. The practice may not be so apparent in Roman Britain because early burials tend to be cremations. However, finds from the rest of the Empire, where material from early inhumations has survived, suggest that the practice of depositing combs in burials was present in the Roman world at least from the 1st century AD (e.g. Kertch - Vaulina and Wasowicz 1974, 155ff and Les Martres de Veyre - Audellent 1922, 305).

The original length is known only for less than one quarter of the sample. The most common figure is between 71 and 99mm. The longest comb is from London (C072: 190mm), the shortest from Vindolanda (C020 and C046: 70mm). Length is a function of the raw material available. The sample is too small to support the conclusion that combs grow shorter as they move north, but they do certainly grow narrower as explained below. There is a much better rate of survival for the width of the artefact. The most common width is in the region of 50-59mm. Three of the four that are only 40mm wide are from Vindolanda (C015, C026 and C030) near Hadrian’s Wall. Eight of the 10 widest, i.e. over 70mm, come from the south of Britain (London C061, C064, C070, C072, C073, Portchester C084 and Bath C127 and C129). The two outliers are Carlisle C116, a unique item with its very wide central bar, and Vindolanda C051. Close examination of this artefact suggests that the width was not planned but was a way to get around an awkward knot: the teeth were cut either side of it and the knot was positioned on the central bar. This trend must be, among other factors, a reflection of the regional distribution of styles that will be discussed below. Thickness is related to the manufacturing process as explained in the section dealing with experimental archaeology. The maximum common thickness is between 8 and 10mm. Two instances of very thin combs have already been quoted namely Carlisle C116 and Chew Valley Lake C088 (both 4mm). They are clearly outsiders. The maximum thickness is Vindolanda C051 (16mm) the one with a knot in the way. Thickness on the whole shows no meaningful variations.

A number of styles have been identified and have already been described. The distribution of some of them calls for the following observations. There are 12 instances of the ‘compass cut’: they concentrate in London (7) Vindolanda (4) while the last one is in York. It is unfortunate that the London material cannot be closely dated but the information available from Vindolanda and York centres consistently on the 2nd century. This style comb is only known outside Britain from a fragmentary specimen on display at the Saalburg on the German Limes. In spite of the concentration of specimens of this style in Britain, the origin of this design must be sought for in Italy as Cyparenis’ gravestone (CIL VI 9727), a stray find from the Roman Campagna, presently in the Vatican Museum, suggests (fig. 2.5). The style is clearly associated with a high-status household in which the services of a hairdresser (ornatrix) were required. Equally the style with D-shaped terminals and raised cordons which is found in Britain in London, Vindolanda and Carlisle and has consistent 2nd/early 3rd century dates, is an import from the continent as the finds from Pommereoul date to the 1st century AD indicate. There are, on the other hand, two distinctive designs in Britain with no known continental counterparts. They concentrate in southern Britain where boxwood was probably native (see page 68) and can be considered a local development. The first group with a wide central bar and pattern of grooves, is represented by four items (Chew Valley Lake C089 to C091 and Lankhills C102). They have a date centring on the 4th century. The second one is style 5, the wide comb with ‘squared’ terminals and coarse, bottomed teeth occasionally pared with a blade. This is a new design as well as, more importantly, a different manufacturing technique. The style is found in London (C061, C064, C070 and C071) and in Bath (C125, C127 and C129 from the Sacred Spring and

Distribution. Wooden combs have been found in a variety of residual contexts mainly in military and urban settlements but also in villas, low-status rural establishments and in cemeteries. It would be unwise however, to draw detailed conclusions based on the frequency of the finds. Wooden combs have been found where preservation conditions are favourable. Wooden combs are very poorly represented in cemeteries in Britain while the practice of deposition of combs in funerary contexts has a long history (e.g. the Bronze Age horn comb from a grave in Denmarkfig. 2.4, and Petrie’s very early finds in Egypt also from a funerary context - see above). There is only one instance for Britain namely Lankhills C102. Clarke maintains that combs were rarely placed in

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C131 from Combe Down Villa in the surrounding countryside). Winchester C145 in a way belongs to this group because of its width; on the other hand the terminal is a hybrid. It is not curved but not straight either: it has been carefully shaped (fig. 2.9). The teeth in this comb are not bottomed, nor are they particularly coarse.

200mm in diameter. Boxwood would take centuries to grow to that size. Superior workmanship, on the other hand, was occasionally displayed in highly ornamented artefacts. Vaulina and Wasowicz describe a couple of instances of Roman date from Kertch in the Crimea (1974, 157 no. 81). The first comb has a geometrical marquetry decoration on the central bar and the second one, with curly terminals, displays an open-work inscription along its middle. The same open-work style existed in contemporary ivory artefacts as the ‘Modestina comb’ shows (fig. 2.10). In Britain two examples of very good workmanship, namely Wickford Well C103 and Chew Valley Lake C088, can be quoted. It is very possible that these items were manufactured by craftsmen working both in wood and in ivory. The tools would have been the same. Finally, Carlisle C110 (fig. 2.11) is a unique comb combining metal and woodworking skills. It has no parallels in any material in the whole Empire. In this item the very wide central bar is ornamented with a tinned and gilded copper alloy plaque representing three conjoining aediculae separated by twisted columns and framing figures of deities. The reverse is covered with chip-carving and ring and dot decoration. The ornamentation has been described in great detail by Lloyd-Morgan (forthcoming). She proposed a number of comparanda from the Germanies for the style of the metalwork and her observations fit well with the use of chip-carving which is also represented in that region at the Saalburg (Jacobi H. 1914-24, table 6, no. 6 and 7). She failed, however, to note that for all its glory, this comb is a totally useless artefact. Its only purpose was to be seen on the lady’s dressing table. The height of the teeth is a mere 7mm. The teeth could have been bottomed which would have brought them up to a meagre 11mm, still not enough for any practical use. Carlisle C110 starkly contrasts with the other high-status artefacts quoted above which were both functional and decorative.

Fig. 2.10 The Modestina ivory comb. The text on the central bar has been carved in open work - scale 2:3. British Museum GR 1904 2-14 1168;(Gunn 1973, fig. 5). The dating for most of these finds is, unfortunately, very approximate. The Bath material is only dated by the collapse of the building housing the Sacred Spring. The London assemblage is mainly made up of old finds with no precise dating apart from ‘Roman’, with the exception of London C061 from the Bank of England site with a 2nd century date. Winchester C145 has a terminus ante quem of 300 AD. The comb from the Combe Down villa near Bath is late Roman. It is possible that this (?)Romano-British style was developed by local craftsmen taking advantage of the native boxwood in southern Britain with a view to serving the different needs of the civilian population. Combs of this design are certainly better suited to styling hair than to cleaning hair and scalp. It is worth noting that two of the few known early medieval wooden combs share this design and have been found well away from this area in the Scottish crannog of Ladaig (C134 and C135).

Single-sided combs. This heading should be set out for Britain in the singular since there is only one certain instance in the sample (Vindolanda C016 which has a chip-carved zig-zag pattern). The fate of York C138 can be offered as an explanation for such scarcity. This plain double-sided comb was, at some stage, radically altered in antiquity. All the fine teeth were removed with a razor sharp knife. The operation, however, did not include the obliteration of the terminal. That would have required a fine saw. The comb was possibly

High-status combs. Boxwood combs were mainly utilitarian artefacts. Diocletian’s Edict of Maximum Prices (13, 8) lists them together with spindle whorls and weaving combs. The archaeological record shows, however, that there was a niche market for special products (Pugsley 2000). A variety of approaches emphasising either access to special raw material or workmanship can be identified. In the case of the ‘compass cut’ the problem was not particularly expert craftsmanship but access to raw material. The proportions of the design indicate the need for a large boxwood billet at times up to c

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Fig. 2.11 Carlisle C110 a high-status comb with metalwork overlay on one side, chip-carving decoration on the other and fretted terminals - scale 2:3;( Lloyd-Morgan forthcoming).

Fig. 2.12 Single-sided combs from the funerary shaft no.16 at Vielle Toulouse in south-western Gaul. They are dated to mid 1st century BC by the associated pottery in the fill of the shaft - scale 2:3; (Labrousse et al. 1976, 90, fig. 13). discarded straight away: single-sided combs may have been considered useless.

and with a ‘Roman’ date presently in the Württembergisches Landesmusem in Stuttgart, (Riemer 1995 fig. 3). It is very close both in proportion and profile the late Neolithic comb from Charavines (fig. 2.1). The second one is a group of four combs from south-western Gaul and dated to the mid 1st century BC showing a style that has no development in later Gaulish combs (fig. 2.12).

On the continent, single-sided combs show two trends. There are those similar to Vindolanda C016 but with no decoration, and they have been found in Italy (Altino - Ferrarini 1992, 196 no. 12 and fig. 9, 12) and in Upper Germany (Oberwinterthur Fellmann 1991 plate 1 no. 9; Vindonissa - Drack and Fellmann 1988, 143). Their very limited number suggests that the design was not very popular. On the other hand, the presence of styles developed before the Roman H comb swept the market can be tentatively identified. Two instances can be quoted. The first one is a specimen not closely provenanced

2.1.2.4 THE ORIGIN OF THE SAMPLE

There are no known hair combs of any material from pre-Roman Britain. The earliest instance of this artefact is dated to c AD 50 from Fishbourne (C092). Combs are found in Vindolanda before the 90s (C057), in Carlisle (C111) and Newstead (C086) in the late 1st century and at Bar Hill (C144) in the

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Antonine period. H combs are known from Roman Britain not only in wood and bone, but also in other materials such as horn (Fishbourne - Henig and MacGregor 1996 fig. 5.4 no. 2) and metal (bronze Chesterford perhaps from a temple favissa, Neville 1855, 114). The possible uses of this artefact are considered in a separate section, here I would like to consider place of manufacture.

Combs may easily have come to Britain with people’s belongings, sometimes even tucked in a dedicated leather case (e.g. Vindolanda C026). Overseas trade must have existed though it is difficult to prove. One possibility is the assemblage from 179 Borough High St. in Southwark (Pirie and Saunders 1990) discussed at page 141. On the other hand, because of its very early date, Vindolanda C020 (a complete comb showing an utter lack of skill even in the preparation of the blank) must have come in someone’s luggage. It is difficult to imagine comb production up and running in the north of Britain in the 90s. For later times, however, the case for local production is worth examining and it involves two aspects: skills and tools, and raw material. The 153 combs of the British sample show a great variation in the quality of workmanship. Besides the high-status combs already noted, probably the work of experienced craftsmen dealing both in ivory and in wood, there are early instances of plain but expertly crafted items, Caernarfon C100 and Newstead C086, for instance, to quote but two, requiring a trained hand and dedicated tools. It is not possible for these to sustain the case for local production. Not all combs, however, were cut by specialised craftsmen and the early arrivals at Vindolanda of badly crafted pieces, Vindolanda C013 and C020 dated to the end of the 1st century for example, show that improvised combmakers existed elsewhere and that there was a market for second rate products. Bearing this in mind, it is not inconceivable that some form of local production developed eventually in Britain to meet demand at the lower end of the market. Moreover, the presence of a style with squared terminals and chunky, bottomed teeth, so far exclusive to southern Britain and requiring different tools and techniques, does also point to local production. The supply of the preferred raw material would have not been a problem if, as it is highly probable, boxwood is native to southern Britain. The use of alternative wood species has to be considered and it is unfortunate that not all combs have been, so far, analysed for wood identification.

There is no iconography for resident pectinarii (the Latin term meaning makers of combs of any material) in Britain, nor telltale finds such as comb blanks. This kind of evidence only exists on the continent (e.g. CIL V 7569; V 98; II 5812 for pectinarii and Ferrarini 1992, 196 nos 1-6 for the only known instance of comb blanks). The question of provenance can only be discussed for Britain in relation to the finished product.

2.1.3 THE USES OF THE H COMB H combs (known also as dust combs and nit combs) have been part of the grooming kit for a long time and a consideration of their uses draws on a variety of sources. Information on ancient haircare is very scant. The basic grooming routine for a healthy head of hair, however, did not change much until the advent of shampoos in the 19th century. Hair has to be disentangled and both hair and scalp have to be kept clean. Additionally hair may be nourished, dyed and

Fig. 2.13 Aphrodite at her toilet. A 3rd century AD terracotta now in the Ashmoleum in Oxford; (Museum Catalogue n.d. ,48 no 56, photo D. Davison).

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styled. The use of both sides of the H comb appears to have been associated with these activities in antiquity and later.

The scalp also requires cleaning for the removal of scurf. For loose scurf it is possible to quote directly from classical sources. Celsus (De Medicina 6, 2, 1) did recommend the use of a comb for the removal of dandruff (porrigo) while Serenus Sammonicus, the 2nd/3rd century AD author of the Liber Medicinalis, described the process and compared it to the falling of snow (Baiterns 1852, 248 n. 34). For the removal of more encrusted scurf by scratching the scalp with a comb, there is only one classical reference (Horace, Satirae 2, 3, 126). The procedure, on the other hand, appears to have had a long life since it is described in detail in a 19th century pamphlet (Hopgood, 1860, 24ff). Mr. Hopgood was a hairdresser operating in the Isle of Wight with no faith in the use of brushes to clean scalps on the ground that they could cause irritation. He had developed a cream to be worked into the scalp and left in overnight as an emollient. The loosened scurf could then be removed with a ‘boxwood cleaner’ i.e. a boxwood comb directly operating on the scalp. This is not the only instance of the practice for which boxwood combs with their dull teeth were particularly suited. The dangers of overdoing it and injuring the scalp were often remarked upon (e.g. Youat 1853, 213 and Pyle 1900, 83). This suggests that scratching the scalp had always been a recognised function of the implement and that for this reason combs did not always require very long teeth. In antiquity there would have been no Mr. Hopgood’s ‘secret formula cream’; the scalp could be made supple for instance with the application of olive oil and this must be what Horace referred to.

2.1.3.1 DISENTANGLING

The growing hair needs to be regularly disentangled to prevent it from matting. A condition by the name of plica polonica is known to occur in animals which, for some reason, are prevented from grooming as well as in humans whose hair is uncombed for a long time. The resulting inextricable mass may become infested with fungus or lice (Herms 1950,114). 2.1.3.2 CLEANING HAIR AND SCALP

References to hairwashing in classical literature are few and far between: it does not appear to have taken place frequently (on August 13th, the feast of Diana, according to Plutarch quoted in Corson 1984, 71; once a year on his birthday, for Xerxes, Herodotus, Histories 9, 110). Nowadays this operation is carried out with shampoos even on a daily basis; in the recent past (1940s), on the other hand, it appears that washing occurred much more seldom while combing and brushing were part of a daily cleaning routine. According to modern hairdressers, hair regularly combed and brushed requires no washing at all and the scalp will eventually find its balance and keep itself clean. This hypothesis has been experimentally tested (W. A. Jackson, Curator - Manchester University Medical School Museum - pers. comm.). Mr. Jackson experienced itchiness of the scalp to start with, but discomfort disappeared after about three weeks. Regular combing with a fine comb and occasionally massaging of the scalp with baby oil proved an adequate procedure. Although there are a number of brushes of Roman date [from Britain: London (London Archaeological Archive Resource Centre no. 708 and Vindolanda - Frere 1988, 434) and from the continent Oberwinterthur - Fellmann 1991, 23ff. and Eschenz - H. Brem pers. comm.], they cannot have been used in antiquity to clean hair. Their size, shape and harsh nature of the constituent material make them more suitable for grooming horses or scrubbing floors. The sort of soils present on the hair, whether dust or sebum (Kilgour and McGarry 1984, 89), cannot be washed away with water alone. Water, at a suitably low temperature for the scalp, would not be effective without a detergent. Soils, on the other hand, can be removed mechanically by taking strands of hair through the fine, packed teeth of a comb. It can be put forward, therefore, that since antiquity, in the absence of a detergent, the comb performed a hair cleaning function.

2.1.3.3 NOURISHING

A variety of greases and fats have been applied to hair through the ages to protect it against dampness (hair tend to absorb water), to make it glossy, encourage growth and combat hair loss (Rowland 1853, chapter 9). These substances range from olive oil to Pliny’s axungiae, i.e. hog’s fat (Nat. Hist. 28, 139) and bear grease (Nat. Hist. 28, 163). The practice was also noted by Martial (Epigrams 14, 24). Whatever the purpose and usefulness of such practice, the mechanics of the application could easily have involved the use of a comb to cover the whole length of the shaft of the hair and remove the excess product. 2.1.3.4 DYEING

The practice of hair dyeing is ancient and is referred to in Ovid (Ars Amatoria 3, 161-167; 243-246) and Martial (Epigrams 8, 33, 20; 5, 68) among others and will not be closely examined here. The use of wooden combs can be inferred by analogy from later practices. Referring to 17th century uses, Cox (1971,

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7ff) mentioned the following procedures expressly in relation to applying dyes with boxwood implements. With a slack mixture, the dye would be soaked up in a sponge then tied to the comb. For an oily preparation, on the other hand, either the tip of the teeth of the comb would be dipped in the dye or the whole artefact could be anointed with it. In both cases the process was completed by passing the comb through the hair.

apparent when preservation conditions are favourable, suggests that this grooming aid was present at all levels of society. Only those who shaved their heads or had their hair very short did not need it. According to Colton (Colton 1991, 451), Juvenal’s line ‘caput intactum buxo’ (Juvenal, Satirae 14, 194) referred to centurions whose hair was cut very short and required no grooming. Wood was cheaper and more expendable than bone and ivory, and box was favoured because of its delicate texture. It is significant that in antiquity (P. Oxy. 1142.7 and 2599.8 mentioning ‘two large combs for the head’; both texts date to the 3rd /4th century AD) and later, in the 16th century (Williams 1957, 22), boxwood combs were acquired in more than one unit at a time: a reflection of their heavy use and ready availability.

2.1.3.5 STYLING

Most combs examined with their short, packed teeth would have been better suited for the abovementioned purposes. We would not find them appropriate for styling, certainly not for today’s hairstyles. The only exception is the group with the ‘squared’ terminal from southern Britain with its well-spaced and large teeth.

2.1.4. PECTINARII AND THEIR CRAFT

2.1.3.6 LICE REMOVAL

No discussion of H combs can be complete without mentioning head-lice. Indeed the standard commentary on the implement often only mentions styling and delousing (e.g. Fellmann 1991, 20). Lice of various sorts were a known affliction in antiquity as Pliny’s accounts suggest (e.g. Nat. Hist. 22, 108; 28, 165ff; 26, 86). Remains of head-lice and nits, that is the louse egg cases, have been found on Roman combs in Britain (Fell 1991) and on the continent (Brem 1999 et al., 132). In the light of the alternative uses listed above, however, lice control must be included as one of several purposes of the H comb: the case for persistent infestation in antiquity is not proven, certainly not by the presence of such combs. There are anyway several species of lice and only the human head form (pediculus humanus capitis) would have been susceptible to treatment with a fine comb. It must also be pointed out, in this respect, that the human head-louse is a highly specialised parasite requiring ready access to the scalp’s blood supplies in order to survive (Maxwell Lefroy 1923, 242): lice is an infestation that thrives on comparatively clean heads. A slightly oily head of hair may have also been an effective deterrent (A. Warin, Royal D&E Hospital, Exeter pers. comm.).

Fig. 2.14 The funerary stele representing Valerius Placidus, a combmaker from Hastae (modern Asti) in north-western Italy in his workshop - CIL V 7569; (Zimmer 1982, 202 photo Gummerus, German Institute of Archaeology, Rome Inst. Neg. No, 4665).

It can be stated in conclusion that the H comb had a variety of mundane, day to day uses. These might even have even included dehairing animal skins as suggested by Birley who found cow hair in a boxwood comb (1977, 123). There is, however, no evidence that this was the primary function of the implement.

The archaeological record is by far the best source of information about the people who made wooden combs. The assemblage from Britain has shown a variety of styles and different levels of craftsmanship. The presence of possible maker’s marks, decorated artefacts and of pieces of outstanding quality does suggest that some wooden combs were made in

The H comb was the symbol of daily grooming (fig. 2.13). Its widespread distribution, which becomes

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highly specialised workshops. It is those people who would have called themselves ‘pectinarii’ and they are commemorated in the funerary steles mentioned above. One of them was represented in his workshop holding a clam, the badge of his profession (fig. 2.14 see page 177 for a full discussion).Valerius Placidus was a ‘refector pectinarius’ i.e. he made as well as mended combs. The reference to repairs cannot apply to wooden combs which, when broken, are beyond mending. On the other hand, segmented combs in ivory or bone could be made good by replacing a damaged plate. It is suggested therefore that high quality boxwood combs were manufactured by the same pectinarii whose profession was the manufacturing of fine bone, ivory or antler combs. Basic tools, procedures and techniques would have been the same.

made in wood were comparatively rare already in antiquity. Alternatively, a more likely explanation for the scant archaeological record may be found in wood’s poor survival qualities and in the very nature of the objects themselves: they are all rather small.

2.2.1 JEWELLERY Personal ornaments e.g. bracelets, necklaces and rings in a variety of materials ranging from precious metals to glass and shale, are well known from antiquity. Wood, even of the most prestigious kind, may be no match for these materials but it is cheap: plain or painted, it would have had a place at the lower end of the market. More interestingly, moreover, wooden jewellery could be made to imitate the real thing. The written and archaeological evidence, scant as it is, seems to support both scenarios.

On the other hand, a number of plain artefacts of indifferent quality considered in this review were not necessarily the output of highly sophisticated workshops. There were clearly therefore people who made combs but did not call themselves ‘pectinarii’. Carpenters, cabinetmakers or indeed makers of shuttles, spindles and whorls (Diocletian, Edict of Maximum Prices 13) might have made combs on the side. The experimental programme has proved that an inexperienced hand like that of this author could produce a viable item with very little training. Finally, the archaeological record also shows that, given the right circumstances, new designs were developed. The craftsmen of the combs with the ‘squared’ terminal, who created the style in southern Britain taking advantage of the local boxwood and probably of an expanding market, developed their own style and techniques which owed very little, if anything, to the traditional craft of the pectinarii.

Mention of the use of wooden jewellery with a gilded overlay can be found in early Greek written sources namely Xenophon’s Oeconomicus (10, 2-3). According to the 4th century BC author, the aim of this practice was clearly deception: in his eyes, wearing a gilded necklace was as reprehensible in a woman as the use of platform shoes to appear taller or the practice of applying make-up.

Fig. 2.15 One of the 27 beads from London (London M006). The beads have been manufactured in batches on the lathe. After turning the rounded profile, the beads were separated with a saw and drilled through - scale 1:1; (drawing by the author).

2.2 ACCESSORIES The accessories in the title of this section refer to other wooden objects used in daily grooming that would have been found in the domestic environment alongside combs. However, while combs have been preserved, in Britain at least, in sufficient quantity for an exhaustive analysis, hairpins, mirror boxes and jewellery made of wood are poorly represented in the archaeological record and cannot therefore be investigated in the same depth. Two reasons can be put forward to explain this lack of evidence. It is possible that artefacts of this category manufactured in alternative materials (e.g. bone and metal) were preferred and hairpins, jewellery and mirror boxes

Young slave girls may have used the same artifice in Roman times; this is, at least, the impression conveyed by a rather cryptic and short text in Plautus (Truculentus 275). The line by Truculentus to the young slave girl Astaphium reads as follows: ‘I bet those Victoriae are made of wood’. It is something that the young person is wearing: Truculentus had just commented on her dyed cloak and her bronze bracelets. He is close to her as she recoils (‘do not touch me!’, ibid. 276). The Victoriae could well be earrings that he is fingering and he may feel, at the

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touch, that they are not gold as they appear, but gilded wood (Enk 1953 vol. 2, 75). Later, in imperial times, Pliny’s instructions for the manufacture of leucophoron, a cement employed to finish wood with gold leaf (Nat. Hist. 33, 64 and 35, 36), show that the technique of gilding wood was known and therefore probably in use.

that a small stem had been cut to the required size with a sharp knife and that the pith had been removed with the assistance of a probe thus creating an axial cavity. Given the small size of the objects, the possibility of a perforation made by drilling or burning was discarded as impractical. The chemical analysis of the coating of the spacers identified a compound of copper, iron and manganese. Newton (1990, 79) concluded that it must have been applied intentionally since the possibility of contamination from the surrounding soil could be ruled out; moreover, the coating was only present on the outside of the spacers. The overlay would have given the spacers an attractive dark, lustrous appearance and created an interesting effect with the glass beads. According to Guido (1990, 76), the artefacts represented a Romano-British imitation of the contemporary Roman polygonal green glass spacers.

The limited archaeological record lends some support to the hypothesis that wooden jewellery was used in antiquity for necklaces and bracelets both as a cheap alternative and with the intent of deception. The use of wooden finger rings cannot be discussed since the only known instance, namely a specimen apparently recovered in the 1851 excavations at Les Martres de Veyre (Audollent 1922, 284 and 289), can no longer be traced. The most complete example of a Roman wooden necklace comes from a 1st century AD context from London. London M006 is a group of 27 wooden beads with diameters ranging from 18 to 32mm. The section drawing of one of them (fig. 2.15) shows how the beads were manufactured. A plain wooden rod was mounted on a lathe and a number of beads were defined and partly turned. The beads were then separated by sawing and drilled through. The lathe ends are recognisable in the few beads with a planoconvex section. Although no remains of stringing material were recovered from the burnt context, the assemblage has been interpreted as a necklace rather than an abacus because of the graded diameters of the beads (A. Wardle pers. comm.). Isolated instances of similar beads are known from the continent for example from Gaul (Saintes, Archaeology Museum no. 84.121 and Grenoble, Dangréaux 1989, fig. 18 no. 5) and the Rhineland (Velsen 1, van Rijn 1995 no. 1701.1).

The evidence for wooden bracelets is very limited. The two specimens in ‘organic’ material from a late Roman funerary context in London (London M017) may have been made of wood; unfortunately it has been impossible to investigate them fully. The items were embedded in a block of soil lifted from a grave in Giltspur St. and excavated in the conservation laboratory. The finds were in very poor condition and can now no longer be traced. The general character of the assemblage, which included copper and shale bracelets, a glass necklace and only one silver item (an earring), is, however, sufficiently humble to make wood a credible proposition for the bracelets in question. Carlisle M015, on the other hand, is undoubtedly a wooden bracelet. The item, originally a bangle some 90mm in diameter, was made on the lathe from a disk of wood at least 13mm thick. The disk was mounted on a lathe with a mandrel fixed at the centre and was turned to shape the bracelet and remove the central disk. The same technique was used in the manufacture of Romano-British shale bracelets in Dorset and has left characteristic waste i.e. disks with one or more slots for the mandrel in the centre (Calkin 1953).

No traces of paint or gilding have been detected on any of the London M006 beads suggesting that they were intended as genuine wooden jewellery. On the other hand, the painstaking analysis of two bead spacers from the 1st century Romano-British cemetery at Whitcombe in Dorset (Newton 1990) provides the only hard evidence in the Roman Empire for the use of wood in jewellery with the intent of deception.

2.2.2. PINS

The two cylindrical objects, Whitcombe M016, were found with ten glass beads of various colours (Guido 1990, 76) beside the left shoulder of a female teenager in burial 8. They had originally been classified as glass on the basis of appearance. A closer examination showed that they were made of a local wood anatomically identified as that of the guelder-rose (Viburnum opulus). It was suggested

Slender pointed objects have various uses in personal grooming either for applying make-up and perfume or parting and securing hair and hairpieces. Metal and bone pins, from the very plain to the highly ornamented, are well known in the archaeological repertoire, wooden ones less so. It is very possible that they are under-represented because they do not

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Fig. 2.17 Wooden hairpins from Vindolanda - scale 1:1; (drawing by the author). survive easily. Moreover, they may have been incorrectly classified as spindles for instance. One particular pin (acus discriminalis or discerniculum) described by Varro (De Lingua Latina 5, 29, 129) as the pin by which the hair is parted, would have been made in wood by choice. The caveats expressed above (page 24) concerning the dangers of injuring the scalp with sharp pointed instruments, would have made boxwood that does not splinter and can be shaped to a dull point, a particularly suitable choice. The discerniculum was the symbol of hairdressers and can be seen on Cyparenis’s stele together with the elegant comb (fig. 2.5). Given the postulated length of that comb, in the region of 180mm, the size of a of this particular pin can be estimated at about 300mm a measurement which is consistent with the representation of a lady using it (fig. 2.16). Not only the length but also the shape of this implement with its wide head and tapering body are characteristic. It is unlikely to have been ornamented in any way since it was a purely functional item.

assemblage, however small, does suggest two observations. On one side, the absence of plain artefacts (i.e. the counterpart of group 1 bone hairpins described in Crummy 1979) may be partly the result of incorrect classifications in the wood reports. It is difficult to conclude that plain hairpins did not exist in wood when they are known in bone. On the other hand, the quality of the workmanship displayed in the Vindolanda assemblage (fig. 2.17) does suggests the presence of expert craftsmen with dedicated tools engaged in the manufacturing of ornamented wooden pins for that section of the market unable to afford more expensive raw materials. The fine design and the intricate detail show an experienced hand. The very limited evidence from Roman contexts on the continent does support this conclusion. The wooden hairpin with traces of gilding from Kertch (Waulina and Wasowicz 1974, 172 no. 108) with a carved female head would compare favourably with its well-known bone counterpart now on display at the Museum of London (fig. 2.18).

Hairpins (acus crinalis or comatoria for fastening hair or fixing hairpieces) are known, on the other hand, in various materials ranging from precious metals to ivory and bone. The 4th century AD mummified head of a woman from Hawara in Egypt with four hairpins (two ivory, one tortoiseshell and one silver) still in place in the coiled reddish-brown hair can be seen at the Petrie Museum at University College London (UC 28072). Hairpins tend to be shorter than discernicula and could be highly ornamented. Only a few wooden ones have been recognised as such. The ‘two or three’ from Wroxeter (Wright T. 1872, 277) are now lost (S. Lunt, curator - Wroxeter Roman Museum, pers. comm.) and the five from Vindolanda (M001-M005) certainly represent too small a sample to attempt any classification. The

Fig. 2.16 A lady using a discerniculum; (Saglio 1873, 63 fig. 101).

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bone; it follows therefore that the mirror box was made in wood. The representation of these boxes in the hands of their proud owners on the lids of funerary urns would suggest that the primary purpose of the artefact was display and that the functional aspect (i.e. protecting the mirror) was secondary. This design of mirror box was also adopted outside Etruria and can be seen in the bridal scene in the Villa dei Misteri in Pompei which is dated to the 1st century BC. In later times, from the 1st century AD onwards, according to Lloyd-Morgan (1975, 108-109), the growing production of rectangular and simple disk mirrors went hand in hand with an increased fragility of the artefacts. Not only were mirrors thinner but they were also manufactured in a brittle copper alloy with a high percentage of tin. Such delicate mirrors would have required some form of protection or backing; a frame or a container in wood would have been very suitable. Finds of a number of mirrors with traces of wood from Roman contexts in Europe described by Lloyd-Morgan (1981), suggest that this practice was adopted.

Fig. 2.18 Left: wooden hairpin with traces of gilding from Kertch in the Crimea - scale 1:1; (Waulina and Wasovicz 1974, 172 no 108 and plate 135 i and j). Right: bone hairpin now at the Museum of London scale 2:3; (Ward 1911, fig. 70). 2.2.3 MIRROR BOXES Mirror boxes come in two broad categories: general toilet boxes which could house a mirror either loosely placed or fitted on the inside of the lid, as suggested by Ward (1911, 263), or dedicated structures for mirrors only. This section deals with the latter category. The use of dedicated mirror holders (boxes and frames) in antiquity is attested in the written sources (e.g. Seneca, Naturales Questiones 1, 17, 8 and Plutarch, Moralia 139, 14 in which high-status gold and gem encrusted specimens of mirror holders are mentioned). The archaeological record shows that a variety of materials were employed for the purpose. They range from copper alloy (e.g. the Coddenham mirror box, Brailsford 1951, 68), to lead (e.g. the frame for a glass mirror set in bitumen, Chester, Lloyd-Morgan 1977, plate 6 and 7), to amber (e.g. a carved holder with a handle, Poppelreuter 1906), to wood.

Fig. 2.19 A two-piece carved mirror box with bone hinges from a 2nd century BC Etruscan ash urn now at the Museo Guarnacci in Volterra - no. 373; (Thomson de Grummond 1982, fig. 33. Photo Barbara Bini). The British material (M007 to M013), limited as it is both in the number of items and the quality of their preservation, is nonetheless informative: it provides a basis for a tentative reconstruction of the designs of some of the artefacts. Chronological considerations are best left aside since the material is so scarce. Chichester M010 and M011, both finds from old excavations which have never been properly

The very earliest evidence for wooden mirror boxes comes uncharacteristically from the iconography. Wood does not normally translate well in this medium but the representations on a number of funerary urns from Etruria with a 3rd to 1st century BC date are unmistakable. Fig. 2.19 shows a square, hinged, bivalve container housing a mirror. The size of the hinges shows they were originally made in

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examined and can no longer be traced (S. Fullwood, curator, Chichester Museum pers. comm.), have been listed in the corpus but are not part of this analysis.

uncharacteristically fitted inside and this may be why Cirencester M014 is comparatively deep. It is also possible that hand mirrors had dedicated wooden boxes with a design following the shape of the mirror and of its handle. The evidence is not conclusive from Chester M007 and M008, Whitchurch M009 and Norwich M013 all hand mirrors found with traces of wood. The scarce wooden remains are not sufficient to show the design of the original wooden container. These mirrors could have been loosely placed in boxes of any shape.

The material suggests, for a start, that carved, hinged, bivalve mirror holders mentioned above may have been, in due course, replaced by two-piece turned boxes easier and quicker to manufacture. Cirencester M014 (fig. 2.20) made of the wood of a fruit tree may be the body of one such box. The artefact from the Watermoor excavations and dated to the 1st/2nd century AD, displays notable characteristics. The inside and the outside surfaces have been treated in very different ways. The outside has been carefully worked to a smooth surface and shaped to a slightly waisted profile. It is ornamented with grooves and raised cordons; the base is carefully turned. The inside, on the other hand, looks unfinished. Only the inner edge has been worked to a smooth surface, the rest has been roughly hollowed on the lathe and by carving (pace Earwood forthcoming, who sees it as ‘carefully fashioned’). Were the piece to be remounted on the lathe to finish the inside, the turned base would be spoiled.

Fig. 2.21 The wooden two-piece case for a hand mirror from Hawara, Egypt (Petrie Museum UC 28025) dated to the 4th century AD. The convex mirror in tinned copper had a brass foil handle soldered on which is now missing. Both body and lid of the box have been turned. The inside of the body is undercut (*) suggesting that the mirror was not meant to be lifted out of its case when in use. The lid has traces of red paint on the outside - scale 1:2; (drawing by the author).

Fig. 2.20 Cirencester M014 - section profile. It shows two different styles of workmanship. The outside has been carefully turned. In the inside, only the top end has been worked to a smooth surface and the rest is much rougher possibly a combination of turning and carving - scale 2:3; (drawing by the author). It appears therefore that the inner surface needed no further work for the intended purpose of the object. Close examination of two complete wooden mirror boxes of contemporary date and comparable size, originally from Hawara in Egypt and now at the National Museums of Scotland [1911 210 4A (lid), 210 4B (body), 210 4C (mirror); 210 4D (lid), 210 4E (body), 210 4F (mirror)], may help to explain the purpose of Cirencester M014. In both the Hawara boxes the inner surface of the body was roughly hollowed; only the inside edge was made good. The central area was destined to remain hidden and was covered in both instances by a fibrous pad glued to the wood onto which the mirror was fixed. The style of the lid of Cirencester M014 (if present) is not clear. The artefact has no flange along the rim as the Hawara boxes do. It is suggested therefore that the lid

Finds from Hawara (fig. 2.21) however, and from Palestine (Yadin 1963, 125 nos 6 and 7) show that dedicated mirror boxes were manufactured in wood for hand mirrors. Moreover, an artefact from Carlisle now on display at the Tullie Museum (no. 1915.40) indicates that the design was known in metal in Britain. Finally, the evidence for mirror boxes in Britain suggests that specific wood-species may have been used out of choice. This is not the case for Norwich M013, which retains traces of red paint. Were the wood destined to be painted over, any species would

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do. There is on the other hand, tentative evidence for the use of veneer.

intended, in this case, to prevent warping. The use of veneer is first attested as far back as the 3rd millennium BC in Egypt where it was used on a small box (Lucas 1962, 451). The Romans used veneers (lamae and brattae), as Pliny put it, ‘to sell a tree over and over again’ (Nat. Hist. 16, 231) and make the most commercial gain from popular woodspecies. Not only the essence of the tree was relevant, but also specific sections of it; burrs and material close to the roots were particularly sought after because of the intricate markings in the grain.

In her analysis of Towcester M012, Lloyd-Morgan (1983) concluded that the mirror frame was a rare example of plywood because of the different alignments of the wood grain. Plywood is attested as far back as the 3rd dynasty in Egypt (2778-2600 BC) for a coffin in the stepped pyramid at Saqqara. The technique was used in order to obtain pieces of wood of a specific width (Lucas 1962, 451). Towcester M012 is, however, a very small item (the mirror’s reconstructed dimensions are 106x92mm). Even if the rectangular mirror had been fitted in the lid of a box, the problem of securing a piece of wood of an appropriate size would have been unlikely to arise. It is suggested, therefore, that the wood framing the mirror was veneer and not plywood and that layering the wood with the grain in opposing directions was

From the limited available evidence, wood appears to have been an important material for the manufacture of a variety of objects used in daily care at all levels of society. It was either chosen in its own right thanks to its properties or because it was a readily available and cheaper substitute for more expensive raw materials.

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3 PERSONAL OBJECTS: FOOTWEAR This section deals exclusively with footwear used in the domestic environment. Wood-soled footwear employed by actors to appear taller or by musicians to beat the time and known from antiquity (Thédenat 1873) is not part of this enquiry since its use was not domestic. The evidence for domestic footwear comes mainly from the artefacts themselves and from literary sources. Wood does not translate very well in iconography and apart from isolated instances this source is not very informative.

Leather is of course the favourite medium as it is flexible and can be shaped to fit the foot. The frozen mummy from Hauslabjoch on the Italian-Austrian border in the Alps and dated to the second half of the 4th millennium BC, was wearing composite leather shoes. The leather soles, possibly cowhide, were bound with straps; an overshoe made of a cord of knotted grass could be stuffed with hay and ensured some insulation; finally, a fur upper went up the leg to form a boot (Spindler 1994, 142).

The primary function of footwear of any description is to afford protection to the foot against cold, dampness, heat or rough terrain. The foot bears the weight of the person and, if unprotected, can suffer great injuries thereby impairing locomotion. A great variety of materials have been used through the ages for the purpose. They range from bark in northern and eastern Europe, to plaited grass like the sole from the Roman fort at Mons Porphyrites in the Egyptian Eastern Desert (V. Maxfield pers. comm.), to whole bear paws used by the Louisiana Indians (Hald 1972, 21).

Wood is yet another material. A wooden sole is obviously not flexible; however, the problem can be obviated, to some extent, by a well-constructed design. More importantly, wood has excellent insulating properties. The evidence shows that its potential was appreciated in antiquity. This section is divided into two parts: the first deals with the use of cork, the second covers the evidence for footwear in other wood-species.

3.1 CORK-SOLED FOOTWEAR

been attributed by Camus (ibid.) to a combination of over-exploitation and evolution of the species.

3.1.1 THE RAW MATERIAL Cork is the outer bark of cork oak (family of the Fagaceae with two species: Quercus occidentalis and Quercus suber). Its modern habitat is in the western sector of the Mediterranean basin: Portugal, Spain, southern France, the Tyrrhenian coast of Italy, including the islands, and North Africa. Its distribution in antiquity, especially in the eastern Mediterranean, is not precisely known (Camus 19361954, 1216). According to the 4th century BC Greek writer Theophrastos, the cork oak was prevalent in the Peloponnese and especially in Arcadia (History of Plants 3, 16, 3), information later confirmed by Pausanias (late 2nd century AD) in his Description of Hellas (8, 12). The presence, in antiquity, of the cork oak along the coast of modern Turkey cannot be ruled out as the varied morphology of the region allows for a large spectrum of microclimates (J. Hather pers. comm.). Its demise in the eastern Mediterranean has

The peculiarity of the cork oak is to have two layers of bark: an inner layer performing the necessary physiological functions, such as transporting sap, and an outer, thicker one that is simply protective against the dry winds of the hot Mediterranean summer. As a result, the outer bark can be periodically removed without damaging the tree. Repeated strippings are possible because the inner bark of the cork oak develops uniform and continuous regenerative tissue and is distinct from the outer bark. Moreover, the quality of the material improves with the repetition of the process. The first stripping, the primary cork, has an uneven surface and grain: it is not suited to commercial use; second and subsequent operations produce a more elastic, pliable and smooth material. A healthy tree can be expected to be productive for up to 150 years. The first operation normally takes

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place when the trunk has reached a diameter of some 30 to 40cm and the tree is c 20 years old; the process is then repeated every 9 to 12 years. The process (fig. 3.1) involves the use of a corer to test the thickness and quality of the cork and a small axe to shape the bark into panels. These are then carefully prised loose with a combination of levers and wedges. The operation is, to this day, conducted by hand since great care must be taken not to damage the regenerative layers of the inner bark. After harvesting (an average tree can be expected to produce some 6 kilos of cork at a time in sheets 2550mm thick), the material is heaped to dry. The rough outer woody surface is removed by singeing the bark over hot coals or a strong fire and then scraping by hand. Finally, the panels are steamed or immersed in hot water and placed under stones to be pressed straight.

3.1.2 THE LITERARY EVIDENCE Information on the use of cork in footwear in preRoman times comes from two literary sources: both refer to the use of cork soles by women as an artifice to appear taller. As early as 4th century BC, Alexis in a play entitled ‘Fair measure’ detailing the devices used by courtesans to improve their appearance mentioned the stitching of cork heels onto shoes (Alexis, frag. 98, 7 - Kock 1880-1888, vol. 2, 329). The practice was apparently, however, not exclusive to hetaerae; even ordinary housewives indulged in it. That is what transpires from Isomachus’ tirade in Xenophon’s Oeconomicus (10, 2) in which he brands his wife as deceitful for using make-up and platform shoes to appear taller. Although cork is not specifically mentioned, it is a distinct possibility because of its lightness and its availability locally at the time. In the absence of any archaeological evidence, it is not possible to say from only two references how widespread the use of cork-soled footwear was in ancient Greece and whether it was confined to platform shoes. Cork’s insulating properties were, on the other hand, certainly appreciated in the Roman world. Pliny’s statement that cork was used in his times (1st century AD) for ladies winter shoes (Nat. Hist. 16, 34) is very broad: the term he uses (calcatus) implies any form of footwear. The archaeological evidence, however, points distinctly to indoor wear and the sizes of the soles suggest that they were indeed worn by women.

Fig. 3.1 Harvesting cork in modern times (Petit Larousse 1963, 601).

3.1.3 THE ARCHAEOLOGICAL EVIDENCE

Cork is a unique material combining extreme lightness with flexibility and resilience. It provides excellent insulation against heat, cold and dampness and can be easily cut with a sharp blade and stitched with a coarse needle like a thick piece of material. The properties of the cork oak were known in antiquity. Theophrastos (History of Plants 3, 17, 1) knew that it could and should be barked regularly (his count is every three years) and that the process, if thoroughly conducted, was beneficial to the tree and encouraged growth. Many of his observations were later reused by Pliny (Nat. Hist. 16, 19). A perusal of the classical authors shows that cork’s unique attributes were appreciated in antiquity. Its suggested uses, beside footwear, range from the obvious e.g. bungs and floats for fishermen’s nets (Pliny, Nat. Hist. 16, 34) and beehives (Columella, De Re Rustica 11, 2, 90) to the more exotic. According to Vergil, ancient Italians used cork masks (Georgicae 2, 385) and helmets (Aeneid 7, 742). There is even a mention of a cork life jacket (ibid. 1, 554).

The archaeological evidence can be divided into two main categories: cork-lined socci and cork-soled slippers. They are dealt with separately. 3.1.3.1 SOCCI

Fig. 3.2 Schematic representation of a soccus (Hoevenberg 1993, 239 fig.12).

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Fig. 3.3 A relief from Neumagen now at the Rheinisches Landesmuseum in Trier showing a lady and her attendants. The one on the left wears a soccus the front part of which is so thin that the toes show through; (Photo Rheinisches Landesmuseum Trier).

Fig. 3.4 Above: constituent parts of the cork-soled slipper from Vindolanda (Vindolanda S012); from the left: upper, wear sole and cork midsole with edging strip. Below: reconstruction showing the insole now missing scale 1:4; (drawing by the author).

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The soccus (plural socci fig. 3.2 is best described as a sock with a sole attached to it. It is seldom unequivocally identified in the archaeological record because of the very flimsy nature of the constituent materials of the upper. The sole is a single layer of leather; the upper could be made either of textile or fine leather such as sheep or kid skin tanned with alum to make it more pliable (Hoevenberg 1993, 238). A complete soccus has never been found and the type is known only from the iconography (fig. 3.3). Socci could be lined with a thin layer of cork placed between the upper and the sole for extra warmth and comfort. Examples are known from the Roman fort at the Valkenburg in the Netherlands (Hoevenberg 1993, 320 - no. 004.0179) and from a couple of graves of wealthy Roman ladies (Esch, in the Rhineland - 3rd century, van den Hurk 1977, 115 and plate 5, and Mangalia in Moesia Inferior on the Black Sea coast - 4th century, R²dulescu et al. 1973, 251 and fig. 3). Hoevenberg’s suggestion (1993, 241) that cork-lined socci may be a late Roman phenomenon runs contrary to the evidence from Britain as a find from York shows. York SO26 (from Tanner Row with a late 2nd century date) consists of an incomplete leather sole with fragments of a thin cork lining bound with fine leather. The presence of decoration and a maker’s mark on the underside of the sole suggests that this was a kind of delicate footwear to be worn indoors. Even allowing for the shrinkage of the cork, its present 6mm thickness makes it unlikely that the artefact was a slipper. Cork slippers’ soles are thicker; moreover, York S026 was found with a heel piece (possibly a stiffener) while slippers were only fastened with a strap across the instep and left the heels bare as explained below.

to the cork by stitching and shows stitch marks along the edges and the distinctive double fold creases. The upper is a butterfly-shaped vamp in soft leather. The vamp only fastens across the instep leaving toes and heel uncovered. The wear side, i e. the surface of the slipper in contact with the ground, has a sole made of thick leather. On the flesh side, i.e. the surface of the slipper in contact with the foot, there was probably an insole, but it has not survived: it was possibly made in a very flimsy material such as cloth or felt. In another instance, i.e. the cork-soled slippers from Les Martres de Veyre in the Auvergne (fig. 3.9), traces of insoles have survived and have been identified as wool-bearing sheepskin (Audollent 1922, 312). The slipper was assembled by stitching. First the cork midsole was edged with a fine leather strip; then the upper was attached onto the lasting margin; finally the outer sole was stitched to the midsole with a hidden seam. Both construction and style of the other cork-soled slipper from Hadrian’s wall, Carlisle S006, are very similar and the vamp has the same butterfly shape. The alternative stitching pattern with the thread going through the cork and across the sole, observed in the material from Welzheim (van DrielMurray and Hartmann 1999, 83), has not been identified on artefacts from Britain. The lines on the lasting margins of the Vindolanda upper shown in fig. 3.4 are creases, not thread impressions. No trace of the original thread was found. It can be suggested that sinew which was used for the slipper from the necropolis of Hawara in Egypt (now at the British Museum: BM GR 88-9 20 79), would be suitable.

3.1.3.2 SLIPPERS

The evidence for cork-soled slippers is more abundant. Apart from a number of items from various Egyptian locations and now scattered in European collections (e.g. the British and the Victoria and Albert Museums in London and the Egyptian Museum in Berlin), there are instances of slippers in Europe from protected environments such as burials (see below). This evidence is supplemented by finds from settlements in Britain and in Germany most of which, but not all, are fragmentary. Figure 3.4 shows the constituent parts and a reconstruction drawing of Vindolanda S012, an almost complete cork-soled slipper, only the insole is missing. It consists of a 12mm thick cork midsole edged with a single, continuous fine leather strip folded over the cork on both sides. The strip is fixed

Fig. 3.5 A hollowed cork-sole from the Saalburg scale 1:3 (Busch 1965, plate B no.159).

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Fig. 3.6 Schematic representation of the slipper from Frimmersdorf showing three layers of leather and the upper covering the toes. The slipper is held together by stitching and nails;(Marschalleck 1959,397 fig.32). With the exception of a find from the Saalburg (Busch 1965 no. 159), cork-soled slippers, on the whole, conform to this design apart from variations in the style of the uppers (see below). The item from the Saalburg (fig. 3.5) is a 225mm long leather outer sole onto which a thick cork midsole was glued; this midsole is hollowed. It is unfortunate that its leather upper with which it was originally found cannot be any longer identified. Busch (1965,182 ff.) has it down as a soccus though its thick edge could make it too unwieldy for a shoe covering the whole foot. It would work better as a slipper with a padding of layers of soft leather (as suggested in van DrielMurray and Hartmann 1999, 84) or wool-bearing sheepskin.

Frimmersdorf (fig. 3.6), which is completely made of leather and has a closed front, the sparse nailing on the edge of the thin outer sole is primarily part of the construction, though it may also afford it some protection (Marschalleck 1959, 399). The fragment from the Saalburg (Busch 1965, no. 160) which is the heel portion of a cork sole with a reused piece of carbatina fixed with a single nail on the underside, bears the hallmark of a hasty repair (fig. 3.7).

3.1.4 CORK-SOLED FOOTWEAR IN CONTEXT

Fig 3.7 Fragment of a cork-soled slipper from the Saalburg with a piece of carbatina fixed with a nail scale 1:3 (Busch 1965, Plate B no.160).

Although Pliny’s statement on ladies’ winter shoes quoted above is fairly general and does not exclude outdoor wear, the evidence from the artefacts themselves consistently points to comfortable indoor footwear.

Equally London S009 (fig. 3.8) may be the result of a rescue operation at least in its final state. The artefact, now very shrunk and cracked, is clearly a slipper with a 9mm thick cork sole edged with fine leather. The wear sole in thick leather is present: it is not stitched but nailed with three studs with large rounded heads and short shafts. The two nails on the flesh side are equally short but have flatter heads: they do not seem to perform any useful function.

Socci, with or without cork soles, would have been too flimsy to be used out of doors. The slippers only cover the foot at the front. The broad vamp coming up well to the throat of the foot would have induced a shuffling gait suitable only for getting around the house. This sort of slippers would not have afforded any protection to the wearer in a muddy, wet outdoors. Moreover, the leather used for the uppers and the soles’ edging strips is very fine and, on occasions, elaborately decorated as is explained below. It is true that slippers with or without corksoles have been found with nails on the underside and that there has been speculation that they might have been worn, on occasion, out of doors (van DrielMurray and Hartmann 1999, 84). An examination of the evidence, however, does not support this conclusion. In the case of the slipper from

There is no doubt that the items recovered from settlements were used either at the baths (fig. 3.9) or in the house in general: they all show signs of wear. The same cannot be said however for all the finds from graves. At least in one case it can be argued that the footwear was unused. In the above-mentioned pair from Hawara the cork soles have no fine leather edging and the gilding has been directly applied on to the cork with very mixed results; while the vamp has not survived, it is clear from the traces of stitching

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Fig. 3.8 Flesh side (left) and wear side (right) of London S009 - scale 1:2; (drawing by the author).

Fig. 3.9 Right: a relief from Lillebonne at the mouth of the Seine showing two pairs of slippers, sponges and a (?) towel - Espérandieu 3127; (van Driel-Murray and Hartmann 1999, 82 fig. 64). Left: one of a pair of corksoled slippers from Les Martres de Veyre showing the same style of upper Musée Bargoin, Clermont Ferrand no. 987.23.33 - scale c 1:3; (drawing by the author).

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Map III Modern distribution of the cork oak and findspots of Roman cork-soled slipper; (map by the author).

that it was not securely attached. Finally there is no trace of a stitched outer sole: if there ever was one, it may have been glued on. Both socci and slippers were designed for comfort: they kept the feet warm and insulated. It is arguable that Martial’s soleae lanatae (Epigrams 14, 65) so snug that they could be slipped on without the assistance of a slave, may refer to something like the cork-soled slippers mentioned above from Les Martres de Veyre in which remains of the insole show that it was made of wool-bearing sheep skin.

from southern Europe can be ascribed to unfavourable preservation conditions. Moreover, in order to assess the evidence provided by the body of finds relating to cork-soled footwear, it must be borne in mind that not all finds are diagnostic. Four categories of finds must be discussed in this context: butterfly-shaped uppers, uppers in fine leather, midsoles (that is where the cork is) and edging strips. They are examined in that order. The 3rd century all-leather slipper from St. Magnus House in London (MacConnoran 1986, 224 8.26 and 8.30) shows a butterfly-shaped upper used in conjunction with a sole with an alternative form of padding. In this case the sole had no cork but was made of several layers of kid leather enclosed in thick leather. It follows that butterfly-shaped uppers, on their own, are not necessarily indicative of cork-soled slippers: they are merely indicative of the presence of a slipper.

3.1.5 DISTRIBUTION AND DATING As Map III shows, cork-soled footwear has been found in Europe only in areas in which the cork oak is not native, but it would be inappropriate to draw any conclusions on this count. The lack of evidence

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Fig. 3.10 Gilded uppers and edging strip from St. Magnus House, London (scale: S031 - 1:3; S032 and S033 2:3. MacConnoran 1986, nos 8.28, 8.29 and 8.27).

The use of very fine leather for uppers is equally not diagnostic: it is not specific to any type of footwear. A couple of very fine leather uppers are known from Vindolanda (Vindolanda S018 and S019) and could indeed fit cork-soled slippers. One of them (S018 fig. 3.18), however, is known for certain to belong to a wooden sole (Vindolanda S021).

were much in evidence (accounting for at least five pairs of slippers, van Driel-Murray and Hartmann 1999, 81) but the presence of cork was far more elusive. It was not identified as such; on the other hand, the careful analysis of the double folded edging strips did reveal wood grain impressions on the inside. In all, there is evidence at Welzheim for only one, possibly two, cork soles and while the hypothesis that soles may have been made of a wood other than cork has to be considered, it does not look very likely. The whole construction of the artefact requires the stitching to go through the midsole and that is only possible with cork.

The only diagnostic finds for cork-soled slippers are the cork itself and the double folded fine leather edging strips encasing the edge of the cork: they would not have been required for an all-leather sole. At Welzheim for example, butterfly-shaped uppers

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With the above consideration in mind, it appears that, in western Europe, unequivocal remains of cork-soled slippers have been found in settlement contexts on the German Limes [Vechten and Welzheim - strips and wood impressions (van Driel-Murray and Hartmann 1999, 80ff); the Saalburg - strips and cork (Busch 1965, nos 604, 605, 159, 160); Zugmantel cork (ibid., nos 742, 743)] and in Britain [London (London S009 - cork and strip; London S031 - strip); Hadrian’s Wall frontier complex (complete slippers Vindolanda S012, Carlisle S006); Antonine Wall (Balmuildy S007 - shaped cork fragment 8/9mm thick)]. Findspots like Xanten (van Driel-Murray and Hartmann1999, 83) and Köln (Fremersdorf 1926, 5a and 5b) with only fine leather butterfly-shaped uppers should count for slippers in general. This list is completed by the finds in burials from Les Martres de Veyre (fig. 3.9), Esch (van den Hurk 1977, 110ff. plate 5; 1980, 378 ff., plate 8), Mangalia (R²dulescu et al. 1973, 257, plate 2) and Aquincum (Póczy 1964, plate 7). The dating is generally from the second half of the 2nd century onwards with the notable exception of Les Martres de Veyre (end 1st century AD - Audollent 1922, 323) and London S009 (100-120).

amended to include a raised cork sole edged with a gilded band.

3.1.6 CONCLUSIONS In conclusion, comfortable indoor footwear (be it cork-lined socci or cork-soled slippers) has been found in Europe in romanised contexts such as urban settlements, forts and in high-status graves. According to some commentators, the presence of cork, an imported material, and of elaborate uppers is an indication of luxury and must imply stone buildings and tiled or mosaic-covered floors (van Driel-Murray and Hartmann 1999, 95). That may have been so in some instances. However, van DrielMurray is unnecessarily puzzled by the Welzheim assemblage. For a start, there is only unquestionable evidence for one, possibly two, pairs of cork-soled slippers in this 2nd century timber and earth fort in the Germania Superior east of the Neckar. Secondly, Welzheim is no more remote from the Mediterranean than Vindolanda, Carlisle or Balmuildy. The presence of women in military establishments is no news: warm footwear may easily have travelled north with its owner. It would have been needed there even more than in the warmer south.

As stated above, the distribution does not coincide with the habitat of the cork tree. Either the slippers were imported ready-made or at least the cork was. Such considerations and the use of very fine leather (sheep, goat or buckskin) for the uppers and the edgings also speak of quality manufacturing possibly for an exclusive clientele in some cases.

The literary evidence, on the other hand, limited as it is, does suggest that where cork was abundant its use was more widespread. Pliny and Martial, both keen critics of the extravagant habits of their contemporaries do not pick on cork-soled footwear. Pliny’s statement has no judgmental connotations; Martial’s epigram concentrates on the comfort, not on the luxury, of wool lined slippers.

Specimens gilded on the vamp and on the edging of the cork midsoles are known from burials (Egypt, Aquincum, Esch and Mangalia) and from only one settlement context, namely London. There are two groups of finds to be considered for the latter. The first is a 3rd century upper in fine leather with traces of gilding from the Billingsgate Market site (London Archaeological Archive Resource Centre no. 3385); it can be reconstructed to a variant of the butterfly shape. It has no diagnostic find to go with it and may be simply indicative of a slipper. The second is the assemblage from St. Magnus House (MacConnoran 1986, 224-5) which includes a plain butterfly upper and its padded sole (see above), two gilded uppers and a gilded edging strip (London S032, S033, S031, fig. 3.10). The last item had been attributed by MacConnoran (1986, 224) to a different style shoe, however van Driel-Murray (van Driel-Murray and Hartmann 1999, 84) has identified it as the edging strip of a cork sole and this author agrees with her. Consequently MacConnoran’s reconstruction (fig. 3.11) should be

This thin line of evidence is corroborated by the finds from Les Martres de Veyre. The grave in question is dated to the end of the 1st century AD and belongs to a very ordinary Gallo-Roman woman. As Audollent (1922, 323) has pointed out, what is exceptional in it is not the elegance nor wealth of the grave goods, but the preservation. The presence of plain cork-soled slippers on the feet of the dead woman does suggest that in areas closer to the natural habitat of the cork tree (and the Auvergne is not all that far from Provence) this resource was available to a wider section of society. It follows, therefore, that were preservation conditions favourable in Spain or in Italy, more of Pliny’s ladies winter shoes would probably be found.

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Fig. 3.11 MacConnoran’s reconstruction of the St. Magnus footwear using the complete upper from figure 3.10. The sole should be thicker showing it was made of cork and ought to be completed with a gilded leather edging (MacConnoran 1986, 225).

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3.2 SOLEAE LIGNEAE – SCULPONEAE While cork slippers were for comfort and seemingly confined to indoor use, other wood-soled footwear, of which two variants are recorded in the written sources, soleae ligneae and sculponeae, had much wider use. Although the scarce material of Roman date tends to be relegated to the end of shoe reports and is often written off as bath slippers or overshoes, this analysis is based on the assumption that wooden soles were a form of footwear in their own right. In its simplest form, wood-soled footwear is easy to manufacture and may have catered therefore for that section of society with no access to leather shoes. That much can be gleaned from a careful perusal of different strands of archaeological, literary and historical evidence. The morphology of Roman wood-soled footwear itself is also relevant. For this reason, two replica pairs were manufactured to experience the feel of walking in them (see page 181).

Fig. 3.12 The variety of Roman wood-soled footwear exemplified in this assemblage from 1st century AD Vindonissa. The picture shows the undersides and includes a flat sole with no stilts (second from the left) and the only instance of ‘diagonal’ stilt style (far right). The fastening systems are all variants of style B; (drawing by the author)

3.2.1 ANALYSIS OF THE MATERIAL

The typology proposed in this study is based on the uppers and on the provisions for their attachments to the soles. This aspect is examined first; the shape of the underside is detailed later. As fig. 3.13 shows, there are two main groups of uppers and upper attachments. Type A refers to vamps that cover partially (A1) or completely (A2) the front end of the foot. Type B refers to straps fixed between the big and the second toes and then secured to both sides of the sole.

3.2.1.1 THE NATURE OF THE SAMPLE

The material considered in this analysis comes from Western Europe and consists mainly of soles. In total, counting pairs of soles as one instance, 103 instances are accounted for. Information on uppers is scarce. Remains of leather uppers are known from the Netherlands (Vechten), and Britain (Castleford, London and Vindolanda); from Gaul (Les Martres de Veyre) comes the only instance of a felt upper. The sample is dominated by the material from Vindonissa which accounts for almost two fifth of the total. In Britain the bulk of wooden soles originates from Vindolanda and Carlisle: it is fully detailed in the corpus (appendix 1). The continental material considered in the analysis is listed at the end of this chapter.

Type A1 vamps are represented either by the surviving uppers (Vindolanda S014, S018, S019, S030 and Castleford S029) or by the telltale nails or nail holes on the sides of the soles indicating their size and positioning. These vamps are shaped and rather broad coming well up to the throat of the foot (fig. 3.14). Type A2 (fig. 3.15) is not unequivocally attested. It was first proposed by Jacobi in 1902 in his reconstruction of a sole from the Saalburg (Busch 1965 no. 649). Unfortunately this interpretation is open to questioning (C. van Driel-Murray pers. comm.) and since the material is no longer extant it cannot be resolved. However, two fragmentary soles from Gaul with a continuous line of nails on the front end lend some support to this hypothesis (Touffréville no. OR 442 and Les Avrillages).

3.2.1.2 TYPOLOGY (fig. 3.13)

The soles were made from sections of cleft wood, normally a log split in half. They were shaped to fit the contour of the foot. Only one instance of interchangeable soles is known (fig. 3.12 far right); one would expect, though, the undersides of the pair of this style soles to be the mirror image of each other.

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.

Fig. 3.13 Typology of Roman wood-soled footwear according to the shape and fixing of uppers. In all the pictures in this section open circles and slits indicate perforations; black circles indicate nails; (drawing by the author).

Fig. 3.14 Sole and upper from Vechten - length c 250mm; (Goubitz pers. comm).

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Fig. 3.15 Top: the reconstructed A2 type sole from the Saalburg - c 245mm long (Busch 1965 fig.6) and below two possible A2 soles from Gaul: Les Avrillages (left - scale 1:3; Rialland 1989 fig.2) and Touffréville (right scale c 1:3; Coulthard and Montembault 2000 fig. 19.3). In type B the upper consists of two straps positioned between the big and the second toe and fastened on the sides. At the front, the sole has a perforation in which the two straps are inserted either together (and they must be thinned), or joined with a third piece of leather. The straps are then fixed on the underside by nailing or knotting. Alternatively, the upper for this style can be made in one piece. The only unequivocal representation of wood-soled footwear shows the arrangement with the upper shaped in a ‘V’ (fig. 3.16). Type B is also known with no perforation at the front of the sole. In this case, the straps were fixed with a nail hammered in on the flesh side (e.g. Castleford S028). There are six ways of fixing the straps on the sides (fig. 3.13): it is clear that the damage inflicted on the soles by the nails must have been a constant problem encouraging a variety of solutions, hence the profusion of styles.

Harlow S027 functioned assuming that the item is really a sole. In B5 the straps are knotted on the underside while in B6 the heel is shaped to accommodate perforations in which the straps are inserted and presumably knotted. This style is the most elaborate and well in tune with the upmarket connotation of the sole from Altino in Italy it belongs to (fig. 3.27). Type B straps are difficult to identify if divorced from the soles. Fragmentary remains have occasionally survived either nailed (Vindolanda S023) or knotted (London S010) on the underside. Castleford S028, a fragmentary sole for which the leather as well as the wood have been recovered, provides the most complete known example from the archaeological record (fig. 3.18). Soles completely flat on the wear side, i.e. the underside, are a small minority. In some cases (e.g. at Vindonissa and Welzheim) they represent footwear clearly intended to be used, but with no cast they would not have been efficient (see below). In other instances flat soles may have been ceremonial footwear for the dead and not intended for use. This is probably the case for the material from pre-Roman Egypt (e.g. British Museum EA 47563) which comes from a funerary context and has very flimsy provisions for attachments. The same consideration may apply to the artefact from Kertch (Vaulina and Wasowicz 1974, 169 no. 99).

In type B1 the sole has slits and the straps are nailed underneath, in B2 they are nailed to the sides, in B3 they are wrapped around the edge and nailed on the underside. In B4 (see also fig. 3.17) the strap is continuous and held in a groove along the back and sides of the sole (e.g. the sole from St. Germain en Montagne). Alternatively, the strap is still positioned in a groove but it is fastened to the sole as the specimen from Avenches appears to suggest. This style is only attested in these two instances from the Jura region in Germania Superior (both with a date centring on the late 2nd century); it could explain how

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Fig. 3.16 One of two identical bronzes (c 300mm tall) from a lararium at Montorio near Verona in northern Italy dated to the late 2nd century AD ( Kunsthistorische Museum in Vienna inv. No. VI 337 and VI 339). It shows a bearded peasant or a slave dressed in a short tunic and wearing soles with stilts (see enlargement). The reconstruction of the shape of the upper is shown top right. This style of upper was used for the experimental sole shown in appendix 3 fig. 10; (Photo Kunsthistorische Museum Vienna).

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Fig. 3.17 B4 style soles from the Jura region. Right: St Germain en Montagne with the fastening running along the groove at the back - scale 1:4;(Leng Archaeological Museum, Champagnole pers. comm.). Middle: the fragmentary sole from Avenches viewed from the wearside and (left) its reconstruction showing the top view. The fastening runs in a much deeper groove and is secured in three perforations on the flesh side - scale 1:4; (drawing by the author). arrangement would strain the structure of the wood and the foot would have difficulties in turning. The vast majority of soles have stilts under the seat and under the tread; their shapes are presently examined and their purpose is discussed below in the section on analysis of morphology and use.

Fig. 3.18 Castleford S028 – reconstruction; (van Driel-Murray pers, comm.). Fig. 3.19 Types of stilts. From the left: transverse, triangle, diagonal and pointed; (drawing by the author).

This item consists of two wooden soles joined by dowels with a leather sole glued on the flesh side; the edges have traces of gilding. It was originally found in 1876 as a pair, so it is very likely to have been some form of footwear, though the attachment of the uppers is not obvious at all. In the case of London S024 and Newstead S025, both flat, single, soleshaped artefacts with no indication at all of upper attachments, it can be suggested that the shape may be a pure coincidence. These items may not be footwear at all. Soles with single stilts under the seat (e.g. Carlisle S003 and Beauport Park S008) are equally rare. The main reason must be that such an

There are five main designs for the lift under the tread (fig. 3.19). The most common are the transverse and the triangle stilts. The other styles are much rarer. The pad under the seat presents no appreciable variations. It is worth noting, in this respect, that the few instances of an elaborate stilt in which the heel pad has been recessed have an early date (1st century BC to 1st century AD). The style is comparatively well represented in Italy (Altino fig. 3.27, Pisa-ship

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B, fig. 3.20; other instances are from Velsen 1 fig. 3.21 and a few from Vindonissa). A sole from northern France (Touffréville no. OR 433 - fig. 3.22), so far unique in its design, illustrates yet another way of shaping the underside. It is certainly more complex and possibly more elegant, but it serves exactly the same purpose i.e. allowing the foot to turn (see below).

Fig. 3.20 Soles from Pisa. Left: ship B (1st century BC). Right: ship E (2nd century AD). The sole from ship B is a full adult size, the other one is smaller. Both are dated by the associated cargo; (sketch drawings by the author on the occasion of the Florence 2000 ‘Le Antiche navi di Pisa’ exhibition where the items were shown immersed in water).

Fig. 3.22 Touffréville no. OR 433 - scale 1:3;(Coulthard and Montembault 2000 fig. 19,4).

3.2.1.3 NAILING

The application of hobnails to the underside of leather shoes is a well-attested practice intended to reduce the wear on the sole. On wood such practice could have been counter-productive as nails tend to split it. Modern clogs have irons: these are metal strips fixed with fine nails and few of them. Most Roman wooden soles are not nailed or appear to have been nailed after some wear has occurred (e.g. Vindolanda S015), presumably in an attempt to make them last longer. 3.2.1.4 HINGED SOLES

Two-piece hinged soles allowing the foot to flex are known with certainty from pre-Roman times; this kind of footwear is discussed later. The hinge is normally under the arch of the foot and consists of a piece of leather nailed to both elements of the sole. The design requires the upper to be shaped differently taking in both the back and the front part of the foot. Carlisle S005 (fig. 3.23) is the forepart of a sole with evidence for attachments well towards the front. It is the only plausible candidate for a hinged sole. It does have stilts, but their purpose may have been to prevent the wearer from slipping rather than giving the shoe a cast no longer required.

Fig. 3.21. Soles from Velsen 1 showing early elaborate heels (left van Rijn 1995 no. 3060 – scale 1:3; drawing by the author; right Bosman 1997 no. CO-6r - scale 1:3; Bosman 1997 fig.6.10.1).

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Fig. 3.23 Carlisle S005 a possible hinged sole. Note the uncharacteristic forward position of the nails - scale 2:5; (Padley forthcoming B, K1).

Fig. 3.24 Soles from Vindolanda with the flesh side ornamented with incisions - scale 1:3; (drawing by the author).

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(Vindolanda S021, fig. 3.25). It was fixed to the sides and underneath with uncharacteristically fine copper alloy nails. On the continent there is only one instance of a decorated sole out of a sample 83 strong. The only known decorated sole comes from Altino in northeastern Italy dated by associated pottery to the 1st century AD (fig. 3.27). The Altino boxwood sole is quite an elegant piece of work with shaped toes incised at the front and a chip-carving motif running along the edge. The heel is elaborately constructed in order to slip the thongs through lateral perforations. 3.2.1.7 INSOLES

Fig. 3.25 Sole for a child from Compierre in central Gaul - scale 1:4; (Aussaresses-Bonneau 1987 fig.20).

The presence of decoration on the soles normally rules out the presence of insoles; they are not expected anyway given the overall ‘no frills’ style of this type of footwear. However, one exception can be quoted from the Auvergne, namely a pair of woollined beech soles from a late 1st century funerary context at Les Martres de Veyre (fig. 3.28).

3.2.1.5 SIZE

On the whole, the assemblage appears to belong to adults. From Gaul’s late contexts come the two known instances of child size soles, namely Compierre (fig. 3.25) and ‘12 nailed children soles’ from a cemetery at Ville sur Retourne. Given the tendency of wood to shrink at times dramatically, it would be useful if the latter find were satisfactorily published with an indication as to whether the presence of ‘child size’ soles has been confirmed by matching skeletal remains.

3.2.1.8 THE RAW MATERIAL

Not all soles have been analysed for wood type (fig. 3.29) and unfortunately this applies to the material from Vindolanda of which only one specimen has been identified to this day (Vindolanda S023 in willow/poplar). The species identified include oak, ash, alder and willow for the British material and ash, beech, field maple, boxwood, willow, elm, linden and pomoideae for the continent. Although, in more recent times, alder (which is light, easy to cut and takes the nails without splitting too much) was the favourite material for English clog makers (Atkinson 1984, 12), it would be inappropriate to attribute the concentration of alder soles in Carlisle (four out of five, the last one is in oak) to an informed choice. Alder was the prevalent wood-species in the area anyway (Wiltshire, 1997). In other locations, for instance at the Saalburg, where alder was equally present in Roman times but not the prevalent species (Kreuz 1997, 171), most soles were manufactured in beech which was abundant in the surroundings together with oak. The forty-strong sample from Vindonissa which has been almost completely identified, shows a prevalence of maple and ash (ten instances each) followed by beech (seven instances). It can be reasonably expected that such utilitarian artefacts would be made, in most cases, with the material most easily available. This analysis is supported by finds from southern Italy. While there are no known wooden soles from Herculaneum (the instances quoted by Vaulina and Wasovicz 1974, 169 n. 61 turned out to be non existing catalogue numbers), there are at least five soles (now in Herculaneum

3.2.1.6 DECORATION

Most soles are plain and utilitarian suggesting little concern for appearance. In Britain only the cluster from Vindolanda (Vindolanda S013, S017, S021 and S023, fig. 3.24) suggests some elaboration. The Vindolanda wood-soled footwear assemblage is unique in many ways: not only it is the largest in Britain, but it also includes a number of soles ornamented with incised motifs, some of which can be traced to leather sandals. Vindolanda S023 with the outline of a foot closely resembles the so-called ‘Sulpicia Lepidina sandal’ from the same site (van Driel-Murray 1993, 69 no. 18). The uppers from Vindolanda are also informative (fig. 3.26). One (Vindolanda S014) is decorated with impressed lines and scallops, another (Vindolanda S030), cut from a chamfron, was reused without the lining possibly for the sake of the pattern. Both uppers are in cowhide; sturdy leather appears to have been the norm. On the whole, uppers have not survived in large numbers, but it is clear from the chunky fixing nails present on the sides of many soles, that anything too delicate would have been torn apart through use. Vindolanda S018 and S019 are two exceptional instances of fine leather uppers. The former was found together with its elegant sole

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Fig. 3.26 Leather uppers from Vindolanda. ; S030 is part of a reused chamfron – scale 1:2( van Driel-Murray 1993 fig. 6.4). S014 in sturdy leather is decorated with lines made by scoring the material with a narrow blunt object; S018 in fine soft leather was found in conjunction with S021 to which it was nailed on both sides and underneath scale: 1:2; (drawing by the author).

Fig. 3.27 Boxwood sole from Altino in north-eastern Italy - scale 1:3; (Ferrarini 1992 fig. 10).

Fig. 3.28 One of a pair of beech soles from Les Martres de Veyre showing on the side view traces of felt (stippled area) and the holes of the fine nails that fastened it. Musée Bargoin, Clermont Ferrand no. 987.23.36 - scale 1:4; (drawing by the author).

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century AD with the exception of one sole from Pisa (ship E dated to the 2nd century). The purpose of the designs is not clear; they may have been intended to increase the grip of the sole or help with fixing the straps but did certainly weaken the structure of the wood making it more prone to wear. That may be why they were both discarded. There are few radical new ideas and they all come from civilian contexts. Type B4, exemplified by St. Germain en Montagne with the strap running around the sides and the back of the sole, represents an interesting solution to the damage caused by nails. The find of a similar sole from nearby Avenches (fig. 3.17) suggests the presence of a regional trend. One sole from Touffréville (Touffréville OR 433 fig. 3.22) is a completely new model. It has no stilts but a shaped underside; according to the commentators (Coulthard and Mountembault 2000, 190), it might have had a quarter covering the heel as well as a vamp. The end result may have resembled modern galoshes that cover almost the whole foot. It is certainly to Gaul that one must look for further information. It is regrettable therefore that so many finds from French museums (e.g the Musée du Sabotier at Meisenthal in Alsace and the Musée de l’Ardenne at Charleville Mezières) and excavations (e.g. soles from Saintes, Thonon les Bains and Ville sur Retourne ) are inadequately published or not at all.

Fig. 3.29 Wood-species used in the manufacturing of wood-soled footwear of Roman date. Total sample 103 instances counting pairs as single instances. ’Other’ includes boxwood, birch, conifer, linden, elm and pomaceous fruit trees. and Boscoreale Antiquaria) made of plaited and coiled esparto grass which is indigenous to the area. The use of boxwood for elegant footwear is well known from pre-Roman Etruscan contexts and is discussed below. It may have been more widespread than the single known instance from Altino appears to suggest, at least in areas in which the species was well attested, as was the case in north-eastern Italy in Roman times (Buchi 1987, 120).

3.2.2 ANALYSIS OF MORPHOLOGY AND USE

3.2.1.9 DISTRIBUTION

Wooden soles have been found in a large variety of contexts and over a very wide geographical area. They come from urban settlements, military establishments, rural and funerary contexts (Map IV). It is interesting to note that the triangle stilt is prevalent in military establishments (on Hadrian’s Wall, on the German Limes). Gaul’s civilian society consistently favoured the transverse design with a vamp for an upper.

The study of the morphology of wood-soled footwear is intended to examine how it worked and eventually cast light on the reasons for its shape. The analysis is based on observations of the archaeological material and on the use of the footwear itself. For this purpose, two pairs have been constructed; their details can be found in the section dealing with experimental archaeology (see page 181). The underside and the use of the stilts are considered first.

Changes over time are not easy to detect but a number of points can be made. Firstly, the fastening style with a strap between the toes (B style) appears to have preceded the vamp (A style). This is hinted at by the earliest known find (Pisa ship B 1st century BC fig. 3.20) and confirmed by the large assemblage from Vindonissa (1st century AD) where there are no indications of vamps at all. Conversely at the Saalburg, a later site, A style soles outnumber the B style soles six to one. Secondly, special heels whether with transverse or recessed stilts (fig. 3.21) concentrate on early sites in Italy and in the Germanies. They are not known of after the 1st

It is frequently stated that soles had stilts to lift wearers and their delicate leather shoes off muddy streets (in which case the wooden sole is an overshoe); alternatively soles were lifted to protect users from hot, wet bath floors. The hypothesis that these were overshoes only would apply to type A. It is not very convincing. Overshoes are known from medieval times and as fig. 3.30 shows, they had occasionally adjustable much narrower uppers. Type A Roman vamp is very broad and covers completely or almost completely, the front of the foot. Surviving vamps (the experimental sole see Appendix 3 fig. 9 was based on Vindolanda S014

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1 Newstead 2 Carlisle 3 Vindolanda 4 Castleford 5 Harlow 6 London 7 Beauport Park 8 Touffréville 9 Saintes 10 Les Avrillages 11Valkenburg 12 Velsen 13 Vechten 14 Bonner Berg

15 Ville sur Retourne 16 Saalburg 17 Welzheim 18 St. Germain en Montagne 19 Compierre 20 Les Martres de Veyre 21 Thonon les Bains 22 Vindonissa 23 Altino 24 Avenches 25 Pisa 26 Chalon sur Saône 27 Modena

Types of stilts p triangular transversal Ò diagonal Ì pointed

Map IV Findspots of Roman wooden soles and distribution of types of stilt; (map by the author).

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Fig. 3.30 Medieval overshoe now in Carlisle Museum. Note the cast and the adjustable upper with a shape enabling the foot to flex separately from the sole;(Vigeon 1977 fig. 1).

Fig. 3.31 Modern zoccoli from Italy: note the forward attachment of the upper allowing the foot to flex separately from the sole;(photo E. Giongo). shown in fig. 3.26) which admittedly might have shrunk, do provide a very tight fit. There is hardly room for a leather shoe. Bath slippers are obviously a possibility for type B that can only be worn barefoot or with a toed sock. It is questionable however whether stilts would be needed. Wood’s insulating properties would afford sufficient protection with a flat sole.

sufficiently to lift the heel with the sole. If a narrow strap is fixed only in the toe region, the foot can flex independently of the sole. This is what happens in some modern wooden soles. Fig. 3.31 shows a pair of zoccoli from Italy with that feature. Zoccoli have no stilts, only a shallow pad under the seat. When walking, the foot flexes and becomes separated from the sole at each step, resulting in rather noisy progress. Roman soles could not have functioned like that because the uppers, of whatever style, are always attached well into the middle of the sole and beyond, as nails surviving in situ and nail holes testify. The uppers are wide, come well up to the throat of the foot and allow it very little movement. The foot must therefore move with the sole and so it does (fig. 3.32). The space at the front provided by the presence of the stilt (known as the ‘cast’) allows this movement to take place: its height determines the length of the stride, the higher the cast, the longer the stride (Vigeon 1977, 3).

Stilts certainly had a purpose: they indeed had more than one. They provided the sole with a cast and with stability as is explained below. Moreover, lifting the sole made it easier to fit uppers by providing a space on the underside which was not in direct contact with the ground and in which uppers could be fastened into position by nailing or knotting. 3.2.2.1 THE CAST

Unhinged wooden soles are not flexible. In order to walk without shuffling, the wearer must be allowed to flex the foot separately from the sole or bend the knee

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So he remarked that modern wood-soled footwear had sideways grooves while the Romans had opted for a diagonal (Gansser-Burckhardt 1942, 66). The development of different designs shows that opinions varied on the most efficient pattern of stilts. The transverse and the triangle styles (fig. 3.19) were by far the most popular. They are easy to manufacture and efficient. It is hardly surprising that the alternatives did not prosper. The ‘pointed’ style provided no cast and in soles with the ‘diagonal’ design, the narrow groove could easily become clogged with pebbles and mud. On the whole, finally, wooden soles of any style work best with tight fitting uppers. In modern wood-soled footwear still produced in Sweden and closely resembling type A2, the uppers are close-fitting and provided with a narrow strap that can be tightened across the instep to ensure that the foot moves as little as possible.

Fig. 3.32 The experimental Roman wooden sole (see Appendix 3 fig. 9) in use; it shows how the foot must move with the sole when walking; (drawing by the author). The cast also enables the sole to turn without undue strain on the uppers. In contemporary wooden clogs and galoshes the cast is more elaborate; the underside at the front of the sole has no stilt but is shaped to a curve, which should ideally have the contour of a portion of a circumference (Noorlander 1984, 6). It is worth nothing that in the earliest example of a Dutch clog (from Rotterdam, dated to the 13th century) the cast was still provided by a stilt (fig. 3.33).

3.2.3 THE WIDER CONTEXT 3.2.3.1 THE PRE-ROMAN WORLD: ARCHAEOLOGY AND WRITTEN SOURCES

Fig. 3.33 Section drawing of the earliest surviving Dutch clog from Rotterdam (dated to the 13th century) showing the use of stilts to give the sole a cast and prevent it from slipping; (Carmiggelt and Guiran 1997 fig, 12).

Fig. 3.34 Flat, ceremonial soles from Egypt. Pegs were inserted in the perforations and the straps were fixed in eyelets in the peg. (The Bata Shoe Museum, Toronto P84.0039. A-H; length 245mm; photo by the Bata Shoes Museum).

3.2.2.2 STABILITY

A flat piece of wood is slippery on wet or muddy ground. For this reason, skis have a groove along their length to prevent the skier from slipping sideways. Fashioning the underside with stilts provided the sole with a grip as experimental soles have proved. When Gansser-Burckhardt wrote his report on the Vindonissa wooden soles, he could observe that form of footwear in daily use around him since it had been revived because of war restrictions.

The most ancient instance of wood-soled footwear comes from Egypt: it is dated to the 12th dynasty(2278-2565 BC) and consists of a pair of flat soles fitted with detachable pegs set in the three

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Fig. 3.35 Etruscan hinged sole in boxwood and metal. The perforation indicated with a black circle holds the remains of a wooden peg. The fastening was a combination of straps between the toes, across the instep and at the heel possibly similar to the Etruscan terracotta fragment shown on the right. (Bally Museum, Schönenwerd no. 245 - scale 1:3; drawing by the author and Weber n.d., 4 for the terracotta; note that the conventions, see page 43, have been reversed for of clarity). perforations (fig. 3.34). The straps were fixed in eyeholes in the pegs. The soles are painted white on the flesh side only and appear not to have been worn.

This type of footwear has been identified by Chapot (1873b) with the σανδαλια τυρρηνικα or τυρρηνιουργη which according to the comic poet Kratinos, writing in 5th century BC Greece, had gilded straps (Kratinos frag. 131; Koch 1880-1888, vol. 1, 54). It is debatable whether these boxwood and metal soles were purely symbolic or intended to be worn. The finds mentioned above are all from burials. On the other hand, a very similar pair of soles did come from a settlement, namely the town of Eretria on the island of Eubaea in Greece (Weber n.d., 18). These soles, dated to the 2nd century BC, are now in Berlin (Pernice 1904, 27 no. 25).

The precise provenance of the find is not known, however similar soles with a slightly later date are known from funerary contexts (e.g. British Museum EA 41578 with a date centring on the early 2nd millennium BC). As these soles are all flat, appear unworn and have very flimsy attachment provisions, it can be concluded they were purely symbolic. Subsequent developments of the type are difficult to follow because of the scant evidence. The archaeology suggests that some wood-soled footwear evolved into high-status material, while the literature shows a different situation dwelling, unfortunately very briefly, on the very low-status use. Fig. 3.35 shows an articulated Etruscan boxwood sole now at the Bally Museum in Schönenwerd in Switzerland. Similar artefacts are known from a number of Etruscan contexts (e.g. Vulci, Bisenzio and Marzabotto in central Italy) with dates centring on the 6th century BC. These are very elaborate items with leather hinges, copper alloy edging and lining fixed with iron nails on the underside. The soles were worn with a complex fastening (Pugsley 2001).

As intimated above, no evidence has survived in the archaeological record for less elaborate material: it did however exist. Wood-soled footwear (κρουπαλα) bound with flaxen thongs (αµϕιλινα) is mentioned as early as the 5th century BC by Sophocles (frag. 44; Pearson 1917, 31); unfortunately nothing in known of its appearance. This kind of footwear variously known as κρουπεζα, κρουπετα, κρουπανα, (diminutive κρουπεζια), is connected to the words κρουω (to strike/bruise) and πους (foot). It belonged to the rural world where it was used in the process of crushing olives as the 5th century AD grammarian and lexicographer Hesychios from

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Alexandria explained in his Lexicon. It was certainly, however, in more general use from earlier times at least amongst the peasants in Beotia, as Kratinos’ unflattering remark on the locals suggests: ‘the Beotian pigs, people with wooden shoes (κρουπεζοϕοροι)’ (Kratinos frag. 310; Koch 1880-1888, vol. 1, 103). 3.2.3.2 ROMAN LITERARY SOURCES

•

While the evidence relating to Greece and pre-Roman Italy appears to suggest that wood could be used by people at all levels of society, references to woodsoled footwear in the Latin literature all refer to lowstatus use. Literary sources mention two types: the solea lignea and the sculponea. From the scant material, it is possible to make the following observations: • Wood-soled footwear (solea lignea) was still used for crushing olives. Columella’s description of ‘canalis et solea’ a process, in his words, less efficient than the press (trapetum) and the mill (mola olearia) (Columella, De Re Rustica 12, 52, 6), suggests that the Greek practice referred to above had been adopted in Italy and was still in use in imperial times, possibly on small farms. The practice may have had a long life in the Mediterranean basin. It was apparently used up to the First World War in Corsica where it was known as ‘le palmentu’ (Brun 1986, 45) and it can also be traced to Spain. In the Museum of Arts and Popular Traditions in Seville, an exhibit casts light on Columella’s short description. The apparatus consists of a sloping wooden conduit flaring at one end onto which the olives are placed possibly in a sack; a rope hangs from the ceiling. The operator wearing wooden soles holds on to the rope and pounds the olives. The oil flows and collects in a container at the end of the conduit. (André in Columella, De Re Rustica, 126 n. 3 and illustration on page 140). • Soleae ligneae were associated in the written word with the lowest levels of society. They were part of the garb of the convicted parricide on its way to his punishment (being thrown into the sea in a sack with a cock, a viper and a dog; Cicero, De Inventione 2,149). They define the very poor like the old hag living in down-market accommodation in Petronius’ Satyricon; hers was clearly home-made footwear since the soles did not even match in height (‘soleae impares’ Satyricon 95). • Sculponeae were part of the image of peasants and slaves though it is quite likely that they went barefoot a lot of the time (Seneca’s remark about his mule-driver who was barefoot and ‘not because it is summer’ does suggest that - Seneca,

•

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Epistolae Morales 87, 4). Varro’s Tripotolemus, the mythical inventor of agriculture, was properly sculponeatus (Varro, Satyrae Menippae 45); Cato’s instructions to the householder in the 2nd century BC (De Agricultura 59) included the issue of one pair of good quality sculponeae for each member of the familia of slaves every two years. Sculponeae were bigger than soleae. This is implied in a passage in Casina, a play by the 3rd/2nd century BC author Plautus. The scene (490ff.) features Lysidamus, a gentleman from Athens, his slave Olympius and another slave, Chalinus, eavesdropping. At this point in the plot, the marriage between Olympius and the slave girl Casina is being prepared. It is intended to be a front: Olympius will share Casina with his master in exchange for his freedom. Chalinus does not approve of the arrangement. The dialogue starts off with Lysidamus instructing Olympius to make preparations for the wedding feast and go to market to buy some delicacies including sea food: ‘sepias, limpets, little cuttles and soles’. Incensed Chalinus bursts in an aside: ‘Why not make them sculponeae to beat your face with, you disgusting old man?’ Clearly sculponeae were bigger and made better weapons than soleae (not the fish at this stage, but the wooden soles; Chalinus’ outburst only works if the audience picks up readily on the double entendre). Plautus was not the only one with that view: according to the contemporary dramatist and poet Naevius, teachers preferred the use of sculponeae to soleae to administer corrections to their charges (Chapot 1873a). Where did the increase in size come from? It had to come from the thickness of the artefact. Wood-soled footwear that is completely flat on the underside is not very efficient, it needs a cast and a grip for stability, hence the stilts. The flatness implied in comparing a solea (footwear) to the fish of the same name must therefore refer to the upper surface, not to the underside. It follows that the sculponea must have had an upper surface that was not flat. Soleae were easier to manufacture than sculponeae. In his detailed instructions, Cato stated that the sculponeae should not be made on the farm, but bought at the market in Rome (Cato De Agricultura 131, 1). As the problem cannot be the quantity of footwear to manufacture since sculponeae were provided at the rate of one pair every two years, it must be the quality of the product that required expertise.

Fig. 3.36 Top and side view of a shoe in wood and metal from Coptic Egypt - Florence, Archaeological Museum no. 2742; (photo Florence Archaeological Museum).

Fig. 3.37. Urnerboden: modern wooden footwear from Switzerland; (Appenzeller, Bally Musem pers. comm.). represented by a pair of wooden sandals from Coptic Egypt which, unlike soleae, are hollowed on the upper surface. The artefacts are at present divided between two different locations: the right foot is at the Louvre Museum in Paris (no. 1312) and the left foot is at the archaeological Museum in Florence it is the one in the photograph (fig. 3.36). Other details (size: length 233mm, width 88mm, thickness 50mm; material: willow; evidence of wear on the underside suggesting use) come from the author of the relevant entry in the new, unpublished Louvre catalogue (V. Montembault pers. comm.).

3.2.4 DISCUSSION AND CONCLUSIONS The literary evidence clearly presents two sorts of wood-soled footwear: soleae and sculponeae. The distinction was as clear to Plautus and Cato in the 3rd /2nd century BC as it was to Isidore of Seville (Etymologies 19, 34, 11 and 13) eight centuries later. The archaeological evidence, limited as it is, is very consistent and belongs only to one type. Judging by the criteria set out above, all surviving instances of wooden footwear of Roman date are soleae. Unquestionable evidence for sculponeae is elusive; there are, however, some possible leads. One is

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Fig. 3.38. Wooden footwear of modern manufacture from Val di Pesaro in north-eastern Italy; (photo E. Giongo). The upper is an iron strap fixed in perforations on the sides and at the front. The underside is slightly curved, suggesting a cast. The total thickness is 50mm i.e. more than the average solea. The cast is slight; with the addition of stilts it would not only be a bigger shoe but also a more efficient one; it would turn marginally better and would not slip.

It can be concluded therefore that the use of wood in footwear was indeed more widespread in antiquity than the archaeological record suggests and most commentators are prepared to accept. Wood had its place in the luxury market and that applies to the cork-soled slippers at least in the regions in which the cork tree was not native. Equally, some of the elaborate soleae (e.g. Altino) have an upmarket connotation. These may have been intended for use at the baths as soleae balneariae which are attested in the iconography (fig. 3.39) and in the literature (P. Oxy. 2599, 31-2).

Urnerboden (also known as Holzboden or Länderboden), a form of footwear worn until recently by farmers and peasants in the Alps (fig. 3.37), and the modern artefact from Val di Pesaro in the eastern Italian Alps (fig. 3.38) may represent a survival of this style. All these artefacts have a number of things in common. They are hollowed and have a cast. The result is a style larger than a solea and more complex to manufacture. The operation, involving hammer and chisel, could be connected to the sculpting of wood (sculponea etymologically is linked to that meaning). Urnerboden with the straps looped in the slits have the distinctive advantage that no nails have to be hammered into the sides. An examination of the archaeological material has shown that a lot of damage to wooden footwear is precisely due to nails splitting the wood. Whether these would last two years is a moot point. They would outlast any solea, would protect the foot more efficiently and could be worn with a padding of straw or hay on the bare foot. Perhaps that is what Cato had in mind when he was writing down his instructions concerning the supply of footwear to slaves (De Agricultura 59 and 131, 1).

Fig. 3.39 Mosaic from Timgad suggesting the use of wood-soled footwear in the baths; (Nielsen 1990 fig. 46) .

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Roman wooden soles from Western Europe - A concise gazetteer*

The bulk of the finds though, belongs to the plain, easy to make, utilitarian kind of footwear that cannot be explained away as bathroom slippers or overshoes (there is no firm evidence for these: the vamps are simply too wide). The presence of a contingent of children sizes in the sample is noteworthy. Children’s feet need protection and grow at alarming rates: this kind of footwear could provide an efficient and inexpensive solution to the problem. Wood-soled footwear clearly served most of all that section of society that had no or limited access to leather footwear and whose alternative was to go barefoot.

GAUL Les Avrillages (1): Rialland 1989, 14 and fig. 2. Chalon sur Saône (2): Musée Denon (nos 93.10.1 and 93.10.2). Compierre (1): Bonneau and Aussaresses-Bonneau. 1989, 14ff; Aussaresses-Bonneau 1987, 40ff. Les Martres de Veyre (1): Musée Bargoin-Clermont Ferrand (no. 987.23.36). Saintes (1): Nicolini 1973. Thonon les Bains (1): Leglay 1973. Touffréville (3): Coulthard and Montembault 2000 (nos. OR 434, 435, 442, 433). Ville sur Retourne (12): Frézouls 1981.

This was not a situation unique to the Roman world. Echoes of it can be traced in later developments in Europe. Peasants for instance, were known as ‘lignambuli’ in Medieval Latin: they ‘walked in wood’ and this can hardly refer to overshoes. Equally, in the same period, the use of wooden footwear was associated with destitution. When the Franciscan friars wanted to show that they were following St. Francis’ precepts of absolute poverty, they wore wooden soles and called themselves Frati Zoccolanti (from the Italian zoccolo, a wooden sole).

ITALY Altino(1): Ferrarini 1992, 193ff. Modena (1): AA VV 1989, 381 fig. 403. Pisa (2): ‘Le antiche navi di Pisa’ exhibition; Florence April 2000. GERMANIES Avenches (1): Roman Museum (no. 90/7809113). Bonner Berg (1): van Driel-Murray and Getcher 1984, 10. Saalburg (8): Busch 1965, 173ff. St. Germain en Montagne (1): Archaeological Museum Champagnole (Leng pers. comm.). Valkenburg (1): Glasbergen 1966, 106. Vechten (1): Verweij 1993 Velsen (3): van Rijn 1995, (nos 1627.1 and 3060); Bosman 1997(no. CO-6r). Vindonissa (40): Service Cantonale d’ArchéologieBrugg. Welzheim (1): van Driel-Murray and Hartman 1999, 98.

Much later at the end of the Second World War in 1945, a member of a Russian delegation of women remarked in a letter home from Paris ‘the population as a whole walks on wooden-soled shoes’ (Beevor and Cooper 1995, 220). She was of course referring to the sorry state of the common people. This kind of footwear was known in France, at the time, as ‘flexisoles’ and it was made of wood that had been scored transversally to give it some flexibility. Wood is a perfectly efficient material for inexpensive shoe soles. It is only the advent of plastic that has made it almost obsolete.

* Number of instances with reference Items inspected by the author are indicated in bold.

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4. PERSONAL OBJECTS: LIDDED CONTAINERS There is no shortage in the Latin language for words to indicate lidded boxes meant to hold small personal belongings. Some take their name from their intended content e.g. graphiaria for writing implements, narthecia for ointments and medical matters, dactylotheca for rings. Others, such as loculi, owe their name to aspects of their morphology: a loculus is a box with separate compartments. Little detailed information is forthcoming from the literary sources on the raw material used. The archaeology shows that metal, bone and ivory were an option. Wood, either on its own or with metal fittings i.e. hinges, brackets and studs, can reasonably be expected to have been employed more widely than its limited archaeological record suggests. A large number of metal elements with traces of wood have indeed survived; they are normally interpreted as belonging to ‘caskets’ or ‘trinket boxes’, a generic term used when the container cannot be described in any great detail (see Borrill 1981 for a catalogue of the British

finds of this category). These remains are only of use for the study of Roman woodwork in exceptional circumstances (see for example Watson 1988) and are best left to the metalwork specialist. This section deals with boxes made in wood only a number of which have survived in Britain: most of them are turned lidded items (pyxides). These were mostly manufactured in boxwood, a material that is to some extent resistant to decay; moreover, even in a fragmentary state, pyxides retain their identity. The same cannot be said for angular boxes or bentwood items and that may go some way towards explaining why so few of them have been identified. The material is divided according to shapes and techniques. Carved, angular containers are considered first; round boxes, turned and drilled i.e. pyxides and needlecases, are then examined in detail and finally one category of bentwood artefacts is touched upon.

4.1 ANGULAR BOXES Apart from the material from the Black Sea region which includes carved as well as jointed boxes (Vaulina and Wasowicz 1974, 135-144) and specimens originating from Egypt, wooden angular boxes of Roman date are known through a small number of isolated finds in western Europe. The British group is an interesting addition this scant body of evidence: it is the only one showing conclusively the survival in western Europe of a native design and includes unique material.

4.1.1 THE STYLE OF LIDS 4.1.1.1 DROP LIDS

Drop lids are the easiest to manufacture. In a drop lid a central block is defined on the underside by four saw cuts and the surrounding material is then removed. Consequently the lid is stepped, fits snugly in a same size opening in the body of the box and slots easily into place. The style is native to Great Britain where it can be traced to the late Bronze Age (Earwood 1993, 42). The best example comes from Ireland: it consists of an alder box from Killymoon co. Tyrone found with a fibula inside (Raftery 1970).

The sample consists of eight items of which only one is certainly the body of a box (Vindolanda L006), while all the others have been interpreted as lids: the bulk of the sample comes from Vindolanda (six of the eight, the balance comes from Carlisle and Bath). It can hardly be called representative and it is certainly not large enough for a detailed discussion of the genre. The following observations can however be made concerning the style of lids and the survival of pre-Roman traditions, and ornamentation.

Vindolanda L005 and Carlisle L007 (fig. 4.1), both with an early date, are two lids of this design and postulate a carved box with a square opening. Both lids have incisions on the upper side suggesting a possible ownership mark.

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Fig. 4.1 Drop lids. Left: Vindolanda L005. Right: Carlisle L007 - scale 1:3; (drawing by the author). Vindonissa type A2 or A3 tablets. The writing tablets in question are of early imperial date and one of them (Vindonissa no. 7256) clearly came from Rome. This maple tablet contained an imperial decree for the discharge of legionaries, a sensitive document well worth extra protection. The fastening design of the codex is known from Aquileia in north-eastern Italy. Vindolanda L003 may well give an insight into what was being produced in Italy in the 1st century AD.

4.1.1.2 HINGE LIDS

Three carved items (Vindolanda L002-L004) have been interpreted as hinge lids. They may superficially look like writing tablets but apart from the fact that they have no writing on them, they are too small and their profile is either too shallow or too deep for that purpose. They all have fine perforations suggesting the use of a form of organic fastening possibly similar to that used for tablets. In the case of Vindolanda L003 (dated to the 90s fig. 4.2), the imitation of writing tablets was carried further. The artefact is too small and shallow to be a tablet; on the other hand, it has a hinge system similar to the one described by Speidel (1996, 24) for the Vindonissa tablets type A2 and A3. As fig. 4.2 shows, in books of tablets (codices) of that design, the fastening remains partially hidden. According to Speidel (ibid., 29ff), the codex was protected against tampering by the addition of a supplementary string. This was inserted in a perforation running through the thickness of the first and the last tablets of the codex. The string was then sealed in a star shaped depression at the front. Vindolanda L003 too has a star shaped motif on the outside: it does not correspond to any perforations and is purely ornamental. It is carved and defined by a thin metal strip: in the centre of the area, where the seal would be, there is an ornamental red/brown stone possibly fixed with adhesive. It is suggested that Vindolanda L003 is the lid of a box intended to look, when closed, like a sealed codex of

4.1.1.3 SLIDING LIDS

Wooden boxes with sliding lids are known from preclassical antiquity. Fig. 4.3 shows a number of sliding lid boxes from Egypt. The most ancient is an artefact from grave 606 at Gurob dated to the 19th Dynasty (1567-1085 BC). Boxes of this style of Roman date are known in wood and alternative materials such as metal and ivory; they were manufactured in a variety of designs. The remaining artefacts on fig. 4.3 are from Hawara in Egypt and are dated to the 3rd century AD. They all have grooves on the inside for a sliding lid, but differ in aspects of the manufacturing techniques: one is carved, one is jointed and one is constructed from separate pieces which are glued together. In the first one, moreover, the lid is not thinned on the edges to fit into the grooves which are therefore redundant: the lid was kept in position simply by attrition.

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Fig. 4.2 Right: Vindolanda L003, a hinge lid with copper alloy inlay mimicking a seal - scale 2:3 (drawing by the author). Left: writing tablets from Vindonissa (type A2 and A3 - size 157x107mm), the fastening system and a codex of Vindonissa A2 or A3 tablets showing extra fastening and seal (from Speidel 1996, 24, 29 and 30).

In the sample from Britain this type of boxes is represented by two lids (Vindolanda L001 - fig. 4.5 and Bath L008 - fig. 4.4) and possibly by the body of one carved box namely Vindolanda L006 (fig. 4.4). The latter shows no grooves and postulates therefore a lid fitting by attrition. In the case of Vindolanda L001 the lid is thinned along the edges and is intended to fit in grooves carved on the inside of the body of the box according to the standard design for boxes of this kind. Bath L008, on the other hand, is only thinned at one narrow end and, as the section shows, it may have been intended to slide along an outside groove. The item is damaged and until comparative material is found, the matter must remain unresolved.

carving inlaid with copper alloy wire and studs and shows, in the middle, the carved figure of a peacock (fig. 4.5). As intimated above, many wooden boxes are known by the survival of their metal fittings: these are not always purely functional but could also be decorative. A couple of instances from the continent, in which both metal elements and the supporting wooden structure have survived in their entirety, can be quoted to show the artefact almost in its original appearance (fig. 4.6). In the 3rd century jointed, sliding lid wooden box from Rainau-Buch the vicus on the Raetian Limes (Greiner 1999), the front of the box has been covered with leather before fixing a lock plate and a number of metal studs. A more elaborate style is represented by an earlier artefact from the Fortuna Maris wreck dated to the end of the 1st century BC (Desantis 1990 no. 236). In this jointed box with a sliding lid, the cover has an overlay made of an elaborately decorated fine copper alloy sheet fixed with nails.

4.1.2 ORNAMENTATION Two lids (Vindolanda L001 and L003) have fine metal inlaid decorations; the latter has already been described above. The former has traces of fine line .

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Fig. 4.3 Sliding lid boxes from Egypt. Top right: from Gurob dated to the 2nd half of the 2nd millennium BC: one groove is carved, the other one is constructed with a strip of wood fixed with small pegs (Petrie Museum UC 16028). The remaining specimens are from Hawara and have a Roman date. They represent different techniques. Top left: carved (Petrie Museum UC 28003). Below left: glued; the sides and lid are garishly painted with images of birds and trees; residue analysis has shown the presence of lead oxide (Petrie Museum UC 28013). Below right: jointed (Petrie Museum UC 28004). (Scale 1:3; all drawings by the author). Wooden artefacts decorated with less substantial metalwork, on the other hand, are far less well known. Fine metal elements and tiny studs would be a very poor guide to original character of the complete items if found on their own. Moreover, they may easily not be recognised at all as belonging to wooden artefacts: the survival of traces of wood on metal depends on the corrosion by-products of the decomposing metal itself. A large stud or fitting is more likely to achieve that than a delicate metal filament. The evidence for metal inlays in wood is particularly scant since it rests on the recovery of the complete object. It is possible that in the future a more systematic analysis of fine metal elements might lead to the detection of traces of wood or of

adhesives showing that they originally belonged to wooden artefacts. Only a handful of examples of fine metal inlay on wood are known from Roman contexts: the abovementioned Vindolanda L003 and L001, a bowl from Velsen 1 with a copper alloy inlay on the rim (see page 108) and a carved sliding lid box from Herculaneum (Herculaneum Antiquarium no. 77295). The surviving metal inlay on Vindolanda L001 is reminiscent in style of the ornament on the Herculaneum box. On the latter item, which has been recovered complete, however, the metal inlay decoration is present both on the lid and on the body and is more baroque with an abundance of spirals and coils.

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Fig. 4.4 Left: Bath L008. Right: Vindolanda L006 - scale 1:3; (drawing by the author).

Fig. 4.5 Above: Vindolanda L001 a sliding lid box with the carving of a peacock and copper alloy inlay - scale 1:1; (drawing by the author). Below: a complete metal medical box with sliding lid of Roman date from Mainz. The size of the lid is the same as Vindolanda L001. The copper alloy lid is inlaid with silver and copper; (La Baume 1964 fig. 150).

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Fig. 4.6 Left: lid of a jointed box (wood with copper alloy overlay) from the Fortuna Maris wreck - size 123x73mm (Desantis 1990 no. 236). Right: jointed box with sliding lid from latrine 6 in the vicus at RainauBuch. Limesmuseum Aalen inv. no. R80-214 - size: height 100mm; width 146mm; length 210mm (Greiner 1999 (149) 4. Photo: Landesdenkmalamt Stuttgart (B 13812); digitising: Verlag Greiner, Remshalden).

The other feature of Vindolanda L001, the carved peacock, is intriguing. In classical mythology peacocks were associated with Bacchus and Juno and were represented normally in pairs facing each other. According to Ettlinger (1981, 355), peacocks feature rarely in the iconography before the second half of the 2nd century AD which is at least sixty years later than the date of Vindolanda L001’s context. Ettlinger quotes the late 1st century AD graffito with two peacocks on the Peyrestortes pottery in the eastern Pyrenees (Claustres 1958, 51) as an uncharacteristic early example. There are, however, sufficient instances of painted and mosaic peacocks from Herculaneum, Pompei and Rome to suggest that Ettlinger’s conclusion is ill founded. Moreover, a

bone or ivory comb from Pompei (insula IX, 5, 18) now in Naples Archaeological Museum showing a colourful incised and painted garden scene with a peacock does suggests a connection of this motif with the domestic environment. Vindolanda L001 could easily have come from Italy and be substantially earlier than the date of its context. The very limited evidence available on angular boxes suggests the presence of a variety of styles and skills and the manufacture of personalised items; the turned lidded boxes, which are the subject of the next section, on the other hand, bear the hallmark if not of mass production of the production for a wider market.

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4.2 TURNED BOXES - PYXIDES The hollowing a solid piece of wood or ivory by repeated scraping to achieve some form of container was also attempted in antiquity: fig. 4.7 shows a lidded container from Tell Halaf in north-eastern Turkey dated to before the 13th century BC which was clearly crafted from a solid piece of ivory. Moreover, there are sufficient stone vases from Egypt to show that hollowing a vessel by hand to a regular shape even in a material as hard as granite was feasible, though it must have been very time consuming. It is the advent of lathe turning that made hollowing a comparatively simpler and speedier operation.

4.2.1 THE SHAPE Although small, round, lidded boxes were known in classical times as pyxides and derived their name from their close association with one particular material (πυξος-pyxos, meaning boxwood in Greek), they were made in a variety of materials (see below) and did not originate from a wooden prototype. The development of the design of this artefact can be traced well into the Bronze Age and is related to the use of naturally occurring shapes such as hollow ivory and bone cylinders. Fig. 4.7 shows a pyxis from the town of Nimrud in eastern Mesopotamia (dated to the end of the 2nd millennium BC). Its complex ornamentation (it is not only carved but also gilded and inlaid) is supported on a very simple structure consisting of a cylinder and two disks.

The crafting of the wooden pyxis must therefore postdate the development of this technique. According to Rieth and Langenbacher (1954, 7), the earliest evidence for turning can be traced to 8th BC Etruscan Italy. It is not known where the shift from ivory to wood for pyxides first occurred. Barnett’s suggestion that the idea of ivory cylindrical containers was introduced to Etruria by Phrygian and Lydian craftsmen in the 7th century BC and that the scarcity of the required raw material, combined with the presence of proficient turners, prompted the experimenting with wood (Barnett 1982, 61), is interesting. Unfortunately, it is not supported by material of an early enough date from that region.

The cylinder is a section of the proximal end of an ivory tusk from a hippopotamus or an elephant which is naturally hollow; the base and the lid are two disks of the same material. The plainer artefacts from the cemetery at Enkomi in Cyprus with a similar date and now at the British Museum (e.g. GR 1897. 4-1.851 144 5) were manufactured to the same design. The inside is clearly unworked and rough while the disk for the base has been fitted with adhesive. These artefacts are taller than they are wide and have a taper that follows the natural shape of the tusk.

Fig. 4.7 Left: late Bronze Age ivory pyxis from Nimrud in Mesopotamia - scale 2:3;(Barnett1982, 44 fig.17). Right: late Bronze Age carved ivory pyxis from Tell Halaf in Upper Mesopotamia - scale c 2:3; (Decamp de Mertzenfeld 1954 plate 98 no.938 a-c).

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Fig. 4.8 The wooden pyxis from Brauron in Attica dated to 7th/5th century BC. The artefact is only known from this picture in the Bulletin de Correspondence Hellenique which gives no indication of size; (Daux 1962, 676 fig. 9).

Fig. 4.9 Hellenistic pyxides. Left: from Praeneste in Italy. Villa Giulia Museum, Rome nos 13642, 13645 and 53, 128 – scale 1:3; (drawing by the author). Right: from the Black Sea region; the first one is decorated with chip-carving and in the other one both body and lid have been ornamented with pairs of incisions defining areas painted in black, red and yellow - scale 1:3; (Pinelli and Wasowicz 1986 nos 61 and 57).

The earliest known wooden pyxis comes from the waterlogged deposits at the Brauron temple site in Attica (Daux 1962, 679), dated to the period between the 7th and the 5th century BC (fig. 4.8). Subsequent developments can be followed in Hellenistic times mainly through the material from Etruria and the Black Sea region which shows a confident use of the lathe (fig. 4.9). While new shapes, concepts and more elaborate decorations become possible the basic profile of the cylindrical pyxis did not alter. The inside profile remained at right angles. Most wooden pyxides remain shaped inside according to their original design: an ivory pyxis has an inside right angle profile because it was constructed from a

hollow cylinder and a separate base. A wooden pyxis does the same, though it is not necessary, and this creates a line of weakness; many pyxides are indeed broken at the junction of the base and the side. On the other hand, the lid design was much improved by the use of the lathe which made it possible to cut flanges on both body and lid resulting in a more secure fit of the two parts. According to Pinelli and Wasowicz (1986, 129) most Hellenistic pyxides were made in boxwood. The distribution and the properties of this material are examined before turning to the evidence for the artefacts of Roman date.

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supported by the radiocarbon date of the boxwood figurine from the Strata Florida in Wales (100 BCAD 100, van der Sanden pers. comm.) and by the development in southern Britain of a distinctive style of combs in the Roman period (page 20). The figurine from the Strata Florida is only 40mm wide and could of course have been imported; the presence of a comb style which has no ready comparanda on the continent does suggest, on the other hand, local production and exploitation of mature boxwood stands by enterprising combmakers possibly as early as the 2nd century.

4.2.2 THE RAW MATERIAL The common box (Buxus sempervirens) is small tree or shrub of the family of the Euphorbiaceae; it favours chalky soils and grows best on well-drained mountain slopes. Its natural habitat is mainly in the sub-Mediterranean region and its present spread all over Europe may not match its ancient distribution because it has been propagated since Roman times as an ornamental plant. In antiquity, the boxwood tree was known to prosper mainly on the Pyrenees, in south-eastern Gaul in the Jura region, in the islands of Corsica and Sardinia, in the Balkans and in northern Greece on the slopes of mount Olympos. Outside Europe it thrived in the Caucasus, on the Berecyntus range in Phrygia and in Paphlagonia on the Black Sea’s southern coast in the area of mons Κυτωρον, modern KitrosdaÈ in the hinterland of the port of Amasra (Castelletti et al. 1990, 143). This location has been identified with Ovid’s Mons Cytorius (Metamorphoses 4, 311) famed in antiquity for its boxwood. In his commentary to Homer’s Iliad Eustathius, the 12th century bishop of Thessalonica, praised both the abundance (Eustathius 88, 3) and the good quality of the material (ibid. 361, 46); in his opinion ‘taking boxwood to Kitoron’ was as redundant as ‘taking fish to the Hellespont’, the 12th century equivalent of ‘taking coals to Newcastle’. Boxwood still prospers in the region but its exploitation is strictly controlled nowadays by the Turkish government. Material from Corsica and from Gaul was also praised (Pliny, Nat. Hist. 16, 70), while boxwood from Mount Olympos did not enjoy a very good reputation being short and full of knots (Theophrastos, History of Plants 5, 7, 7).

Boxwood grows to a maximum height of about 10 metres and can reach a diameter of 200mm (as shown by London C072, a comb 190mm long that must have required a billet over that size in width). It grows extremely slowly: the slower the growth, the better the quality of the wood. For this reason British boxwood, which grows relatively fast because of the comparatively mild climate and the abundance of rain, is deemed to be of an inferior quality compared to timber grown on the eastern Alps where the soil drains well and the trees enjoy a burst of sunshine in the day followed by cold nights (Holtzapffel 1866, 76). The rate of growth is hard to determine as the rings are difficult to differentiate; a couple of figures can be quoted. A present day tree from a garden in the Como region at the foothills of the Alps in northern Italy, known to be about 100 years old, has a maximum diameter of 170mm (Castelletti et al. 1990, 143). More relevant to the present research is material from ancient sites showing what was available to Roman woodworkers. The cargo from the Fortuna Maris, the ship from Comacchio (see below), included a number of boxwood logs with an average growth of 276 years for a 170mm diameter. In one case (COM-19) at least 513 rings could be counted for a comparable size (160mm); this figure shows a much slower rate of growth, possibly a reflection of stressful conditions (Kuniholm et al. 1992, 294).

According to Piggott and Walters (1953, 185), boxwood was established in southern Britain before the arrival of the Romans. Unfortunately, the evidence they provide is far from conclusive. The identification of boxwood charcoal at Cissbury camp near Worthing (Curwen and Ross Williamson 1931, 31) and at Whitehawk camp in the Brighton area (Ross Williamson 1930, 82) is not beyond doubt. Moreover, the period of use for Cissbury Camp is very long and covers both the pre-Roman and the Roman periods (4th century BC to 4th century AD). More recent research, on the other hand, does suggest that boxwood was indeed present in southern Britain in very early times. Two boxwood pollen grains have been identified in a stalagmite in the Mendip Hills (Baker et al. 1997, 536) and the pollen analysis of a level dated c 7000 BP has revealed the presence of one buxus pollen grain at Coburn in East Sussex (Waller and Hamilton 2000, 263). This evidence is

The rate of growth may be slow but the material produced is of the highest quality for woodwork be it turning, carving or inlaying. Moreover the whole tree, i.e. trunk, branches, burrs and roots can be used. The main qualities of boxwood are its hardness (it is the hardest of European woods) which increases as the wood seasons, its homogeneity, durability and resistance to decay. These properties are the result of the structure of the wood. It is extremely dense; for this reason it is sold by weight, a sure guide to its quality. It is also very homogeneous with no variations in early and late wood and no pith. Fibres

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are very short and pores are never in clusters but very diffuse and extremely small. Consequently the wood can be worked in almost every direction because it has practically no grain. The absence of long fibres also means that box must be sawn and not cleft since it splits unpredictably and that can lead to a lot of wastage. Conversely, it will not splinter, it lends itself to be carved to a very finely detailed design and can easily be worked to a smooth, lustrous surface.

items because of its hardness, its properties on the lathe and its beautiful finish. This close relationship is epitomised in the spoken word. Pyxis is straight derivation from the Greek for boxwood as mentioned above. In Latin, ‘buxus’ designated the tree as well as a number of artefacts made of its wood: combs (Juvenal, Satires 14, 194), spinning tops (Virgil, Aeneid 9, 619) and flutes (Ovid, Ex Ponto 1, 1, 45). Boxwood was deemed to be particularly suited to musical instruments since its homogeneous texture transmits sound beautifully. It was also sought after because of its smooth feel and pale colour that was compared to the human complexion (‘paler than boxwood’ Ovid, Metamorphoses 4, 135). Both wood and roots were used for inlays as an alternative to ivory, while boxwood itself could be inlaid with ivory (Virgil, Aeneid 10, 136).

Boxwood is a notoriously difficult material to season because, as a billet, it tends to crack and as an artefact it may warp if taken into a warm environment before it is completely seasoned. Even if seasoning is not a problem per se (i.e. the material is worked fresh and seasoned as an artefact), the wood still has to be stored in suitable conditions between harvesting and utilising. There are a number of storing methods.

Boxwood was indeed one of the most sought after woods in antiquity (Pliny, Nat. Hist. 16, 70) and was the object of trade as a raw material as shown by the Fortuna Maris, the shipwreck discovered at Comacchio in central-eastern Italy in 1980 (Berti 1990). Its principal cargo was a load of lead ingots stamped ‘Agrippa’ and a number of boxwood logs. These could be either buxus sempervirens or buxus balearica assuming the cargo came from the same place as the lead ingots, i.e. Spain (the slow rate of growth of the timbers suggests the former variety). The cargo consisted of 32 logs of an average diameter of 168mm. The average length of 1567mm may represent 5 Roman feet on the basis of a 295mm long Roman foot as suggested by Castelletti (Castelletti et al. 1990, 143). Nineteen of these logs plus some boxwood timbers from the hull were combined by Peter Kuniholm into a floating dendrochronology covering 513 years. If the ingots bearing Agrippa’s stamp were fresh from the foundry and the estimated date of 12BC or shortly before (the date of Agrippa’s death) for the wreck is accurate, the period covered by the sequence ranges from 524 to 12 BC (Kuniholm et al. 1992, 291).

The trees can be uprooted and left complete with roots, branches and leaves on the mountainside for collection a year later (boxwood harvesting is a seasonal operation and the best time for felling trees s January). Alternatively the wood can be sawn into billets, covered with straw and stored in a cool, dry place for a couple of years. The material is then retrieved as required but must not be taken straight away to a heated room as that will cause warping. It is advisable to treat the wood first with water by soaking, boiling or steaming to make it easier to work. Finally, large pieces can be stored in a fast flowing stream or in moving seas. The material is then retrieved after several months having lost all its sap which has been replaced by water. The wood can be worked immediately or dried first in well ventilated conditions. All these methods, with the exception of the first one, have been tried for the present research. Leaving a whole tree, roots and all, for a whole year was not possible; besides, the wood kindly donated by the University of Exeter Gardening Department had already had its roots and most of its branches severed. Steaming, boiling and soaking were experimentally tested with no appreciable results on seasoned billets (steaming actually caused the wood to crack). Storing the fresh wood in moving waters (in a stream in the outskirts of Exeter) worked well. The billets were slightly discoloured at the ends but to no great depth (in a long log the loss would have been minimal). The resulting material was easy to work and seasoned well as detailed in the section dealing with the experimental making of a pyxis (see page 184).

The analysis also revealed that the cargo wood had all been felled in the winter between October and April in one operation from a single stand of trees. Healed scars from the removal of small branches suggest that the stands had been managed to produce trees rather than grow into a shrub; the uniform diameter of the wood implies, moreover, that it originated from much taller trees (Rottoli pers. comm.). Boxwood of such quantity and quality would have kept any woodworker or indeed any timber-merchant in business for some time.

The qualities of boxwood were well appreciated in antiquity. It was the choice material for a number of

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4.2.3 THE NATURE OF THE SAMPLE

4.2.4 MORPHOLOGY OF THE ROMAN PYXIS

The sample of Roman wooden pyxides on which this research is based comes from Britain and consists of 34 items representing either bodies or lids of pyxides. Only one instance of a complete pyxis is known (Carlisle P024 - plate 4). These items, almost all of which were personally inspected, represent material either discarded in rubbish dumps or pits in highly romanised sites of military (Vindolanda, Carlisle, Corbridge, York, Bar Hill and Newstead) or civilian character (London). One item, Corbridge P011, comes from a hoard the nature of which is far from satisfactorily elucidated. It can be only speculated on the original state of the artefact when it became incorporated into the archaeological record: it is very small (18 by 23mm) and its lid would have been even smaller; it is hardly surprising that there are no traces of it. It might easily have been a chance loss and not an instance of intended deposition at all. The information provided by this assemblage has been complemented by the study of a number of items from the rest of the Empire. Material from Bulgaria and Egypt was made available to this author at the British and at the Petrie Museums in London. Material from the following continental collections was also personally examined: Gulf of Fos, Les Martres de Veyre, Marseille-Place Jules Verne excavations, Praeneste, Vindonissa-Schutthügel, and Velsen 1.

Fig. 4.10 A pyxis - terms used; (drawing by the author) 4.2.4.1 THEME AND VARIATIONS

As outlined above the pyxis is a small cylindrical flanged container with a matching lid (fig. 4.10). Most Roman pyxides conform to this basic module; the reference to the ivory prototype is still very much in evidence with a sharp angle at the junction of the base and the side. The lid is in the same style, very possibly because it was manufactured with the same instrument used for the body. The undercutting of the lid flange with a sharp pointed tool is so pronounced that it creates a point of weakness and many lids have lost part or all the flange (e.g. London P037). By imperial times, this style was so well established that bone and ivory pyxides were imitating wooden ones (fig. 4.11). There were, however, variations to this vary basic design and they have to be considered since they would have come under the same umbrella term. These can be occasionally traced to prototypes in other materials; alternatively they are the result of the development of lathe techniques which encouraged craftsmen to experiment with new shapes in wood. The Hellenistic material with globular shapes, painted or chip-carved pyxides is very diverse (fig. 4.9). In Roman times, on the other hand, the variety is restricted. It can be put forward that as wooden pyxides were produced in increased quantity; one off, custom-made items were manufactured in alternative materials like for example amber (fig. 4.30). There were however exceptions (fig. 4.12).

Additional information was sought from publications. These, however, are not always very useful: descriptions tend to concentrate on ornamentation rather than on marks relating to manufacturing. Some publications only have photographs and no section drawings. Drawings themselves, moreover, are not always a sure guide. Most pyxides are fragmentary and drawings are therefore to some extent reconstructions, assuming symmetry. If the author is not aware that there is more than one manufacturing technique, the tendency is to draw an ideal shape. Anomalies in the profile are easily disregarded and attributed to the distorted and fragmentary state of the artefact. The information gleaned from continental material that has not been personally examined has therefore been used with caution.

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Fig. 4.11 Roman bone and ivory pyxides. Left: in ivory from Salona. Right:in bone from Este in northern Italy (Museo Nazionale Atestino no. I.G. 38.361). The artefacts are constructed from different elements some of which are turned. The base is no longer a disc fixed with adhesive but is set in a purposely made groove inside the cylinder. The body has been turned to provide it with a flange; the lid has been either completely turned or constructed with a low cylinder making a flange and fixed to a disk pierced to accommodate a knob. Scale c 2:3; (Rieth and Langenbacher 1954, 13 fig. 18 and 19).

Fig. 4.12 Pyxides of Roman date from the northern shores of the Black Sea - scale 1:2; (from the left Pinelli and Wasowicz 1986 plate 1 nos 70 and 69; Vaulina and Wasowicz 1974 plate 128 nos 73 and 69).

The double pyxis from Taman on the Black Sea represents an outstanding example of technical virtuosity and a concept that has not been repeated in any other medium. This item, from one single piece of boxwood, is a much harder proposition to manufacture than the only other known double pyxis which is contemporary and comes from nearby Kertch (fig 4.12 right). Sinuous Hellenistic pyxides evolved into globular and pear-shaped containers that

were both wider and shorter. These are known mainly from sites in modern Bulgaria but they have also been found at Velsen 1 in the Germania Inferior (fig. 4.13) and at Les Martres de Veyre (fig. 4.34). While these are clearly turned both inside and outside, the same cannot be stated with confidence of all globular Hellenistic pyxides: the change in proportion may relate to different techniques (see below). Not all artefacts, however, evolved from Hellenistic designs.

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Finally York P033, a lid dated to the early to mid 3rd century (fig. 4.15), represents a radical departure from the traditional model. The lid which is in ash, an odd choice, but not crucial as there are pyxides in wood other than boxwood, must have belonged to a container wider than the standard pyxis (the most frequent diameter is within the 36 to 65mm range). It may also have been taller. Pyxides are normally as tall as they are wide, or taller, although there are exceptions (e.g. the double pyxis from Taman, fig. 4.12, but this is a truly special item). The wall thickness is also anomalous. This has to be calculated on the assumption that the lid flange would sit on a ledge on the body: that would make the wall of the body some 10-12mm thick and pyxides in any wood do not normally exceed 7-8mm in thickness. These are peripheral considerations however. What makes York P033 truly different are the techniques and tools used. The underside bears the scars of a mandrel (see below) and has marks consistent with the use of a tool with a rounded profile, possibly a hook tool (fig. 6.11) for the undercutting of the flange. Clearly, whoever made this lid had never turned a pyxis before. Lids comparable to York P033 in size, but with no evidence for the use of a mandrel, are known from the Valkenburg (in maple; van Rjin. 1993, no. 55) and from the river Saône deposits in Gaul (Musée Denon Chalon sur Saône no. 00.27.1).

Fig 4.13 The globular pyxis from Velsen 1 - scale 1:1 (Kalee 1979, 53 fig. 1). The button-lid pyxides from Les Matres de Veyre and from the marine deposits in the Gulf of Fos are clear examples of a very localised and apparently shortlived regional style. These items are unusual not only because of their design but also because they are decorated with incisions and paint (fig. 4.14). This style can be traced to similar bone artefacts from south-eastern Gaul. According to Feugère (1993, 140) bone button-lid pyxides flourished in the 1st century AD in the lower Rhone area and along the Gaulish south-eastern Mediterranean coast.

Fig. 4.14 Button-lid pyxides from Les Martres de Veyre (Musée Bargoin, Clermont Ferrand nos 987.23.17, 987.23.20, 987.23.21; all have traces of white paint) and (far right) from the Gulf of Fos deposits (Istres Museum uncatalogued). Scale 1:2; drawing by the author.

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Fig. 4.16 Two types of lid fit. The shape of the flange of the body determines to some extent the profile of the underside of the lid (drawing by the author). Special flanges. The body of a pyxis from the Saalburg (fig. 4.17; Baatz 1999, 73) has a step on the flange which has been reduced to a couple of knobs. These would have been matched by corresponding indentations on the inside of the lid now lost. The two elements of the container have to be aligned for a perfect fit and then twisted for a good grip. The style can be traced to a very early artefact from Kertch (Vaulina and Wasowicz 1974, 147 no. 68 and plate 126 c and d) dated to the 4th century BC. It is only known in Roman Europe from the above-mentioned item, from two artefacts from the Comacchio wreck (Desantis 1990, nos 232 and 233) and a lid from Velsen 1 (van Rijn 1995 no. 555).

Fig. 4.15. Underside of a turned lid from York (York P033). It was turned to a small core that was snapped, leaving a scar (5), subsequently the outer surface was shaped on the lathe with the assistance of a mandrel fixed with four spikes (1-4). Scale 1:2; drawing by the author. 4.2.4.2 FASTENING

Unlike their ivory and bone prototypes, which had just a disk for a cover, wooden pyxides could easily be fashioned with flanges either on the lid and on the body, or on both, to ensure a more stable fit.

Fastening perforations. Three items namely two lids (London P006 and P007) and London P008, an item of uncertain attribution, have a slanting hole drilled from the side (fig. 4.18). These could be intended as fastening holes using a thin strap to tie the lid over the body and keep the box shut. Alternatively, the perforation might have a corresponding one in the body, as is the case in the mirror box from Hawara discussed on page 30. This might be a suitable scenario for London P007 and P008. The former is clearly a lid. The outer surface is decorated with concentric circles and has a very small spindle scar in the centre showing it was clearly intended to be seen that way up. The situation is not so clear-cut for P008 which is flat and plain. Were this a lid, one would expect the spindle scar to be as small as possible; this is not, however, the case. The outer surface has been turned flat leaving a 7mm spindle that was then sawn off. This is normally how bases are fashioned because they are not meant to be in full view. The inside is turned; the core was whittled down to 1-2mm, snapped and the scar was cleaned out with a touch of a drill. Finally, the flange, cut for an outside fit, suggests that P008 is a body.

Early, Hellenistic material has an ‘inside fit’ with a shallow ledge inside the body (fig. 4.9). The lid is like a stopper and does not have to be hollowed at all. This style is simple to make but has the disadvantage that it reduces marginally the capacity of the container and may bring the base of the lid in contact with the contents of the receptacle. This can be avoided by manufacturing an ‘outside fit’ that normally requires matching flanges on both body and lid (fig. 4.16). This means that the lid has to be hollowed and fashioned on the underside to some extent. The technical implications of these operations are detailed below. Whichever way technical problems are overcome, it is clear that a very tight fit may not be a very good plan. However stable seasoned boxwood may be (and it is very stable), ambient humidity might induce swelling or warping of some degree, with predictable deleterious effects. Moreover most pyxides have very fine walls and the flanges are even finer. A tight fit may cause damaging strain. A number of solutions appear to have been considered.

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really a problem: as explained below, in the experimental section (see page 184), lids can be manufactured in a separate operation from bodies, so it is not impossible that different woods were employed. The closest parallel to container of this style, including the perforations in the lids are the mirror boxes from Havara mentioned before. Whatever its purpose, the artefact remains unusual but not impossible A variant of the fastening perforation, the purpose of which has still not been fully elucidated, is apparent in London P004 (fig. 4.19 above). This is the complete body of a pyxis from the assemblage found at Southwark which has terminus ante quem of the early 2nd century. The artefact is decorated with inscribed compass work. The pattern is quite distinctive and unusual for Roman pyxides which tend to be plain. This item has close parallels on the continent. One comes from the marine deposits in the Gulf of Fos on the French Mediterranean coast near Marseille. The artefact (fig 4.19 below left) is part of an assemblage of Roman woodwork which includes ship equipment as well as combs, bobbins, serving implements and a writing tablet. A precise dating for this assemblage is not available: however, the position of the finds in a rich organic matrix sealed by a thick sand layer (Leffy 1990, 13 n. 2) and the character of the objects as a group, support a Roman date. Two more compass decorated pyxides come from the Vindonissa-Schutthügel deposits dated to the 1st century AD

Fig. 4.17 Body of a pyxis from the Saalburg (cast of a wooden artefact now lost) with knobs on the flange for a twist grip - scale c 1:2; (Baatz 1999 fig. 13 no.6). A couple of points have to be considered before deciding whether London P007 and P008 are elements of one artefact. As a container it is extremely shallow and of limited use; moreover, while P007 is in boxwood, P008 may be in a different wood-species (possibly ash). The mismatch is not

Fig. 4.18 Oblique perforations. Right: London P006 showing the section profile and the outer surface of the lid with the prominent spindle scar. Left: London P007 (above) and London P008 (below). Scale 2:3; drawing by the author.

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Fig. 4.19 Above - London P004 (view and section) showing the position of the three perforations -scale 2:3; (drawing by the author). Below left - the same style from the Gulf of Fos deposits in southern France - scale 1:3; (Leffy 1990, 29 no. 36;). Below right: the Clio panel from the Muse casket from the Esquiline Treasure showing papyrus rolls in a bentwood scrinium with straps inserted in perforations (© Copyright the British Museum) . The similarities do not end here, however. All these artefacts have perforations which were intended and are not the result of damage. London P004, which is complete, shows three just below the rim; the pyxis from the Gulf of Fos, which is fragmentary, has one. Unfortunately the perforation is only mentioned in Leffy’s catalogue entry and is not identified in his drawing of the artefact. The item is now lost and the precise position of the perforation can no longer be ascertained. At Vindonissa, one item has two pairs of perforations and the other one, which is fragmentary, shows only one. In both cases, the perforations are just below the rim. The purpose of these perforations is not clear. It can hardly be for suspension. A scene from the Muse casket from the Esquiline treasure (fig. 4.19 below right) offers a possible solution. It shows Clio, the Muse of History, with a container holding a number of papyrus volumes by her side. The container is a bentwood scrinium as described by Ovid (Tristia 1, 1, 106) and is discussed in more detail in the appropriate section (see page 95). The item appears to have straps fixed on the sides. These

might be handles for carrying, or straps to slip over the lid and keep the container securely closed. Since pyxides did not require handles for carrying, it can be argued that the perforations were meant to hold leather or cloth straps secured with a knot from the inside and intended to hold the lid in place. 4.2.4.3 DECORATION

Most pyxides of Roman date from Europe are plain; at best, they have one or more grooves incised on the lathe. The button-lid pyxides from Les Martres de Veyre (fig. 4.14) are the only instance for the use of paint. The paint is white and the purpose was possibly to mimic their bone counterparts (see page 72). More elaborate examples of decoration include the button-lid pyxis from the Gulf of Fos with an incised pattern all around (fig. 4.14) and pyxides with compass work mentioned above. On the whole, the lack of decoration could be attributed to an increase in production rather than to a decrease in technical abilities. The amber pyxis from

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Aquileia (fig. 4.30) shows what standards could be achieved in the manufacture of. special, high-status items. These skills were not apparently transferred to woodwork in this particular category. In eastern Europe on the northern shores of the Black Sea, the material of Roman date does show some new forms and unusual decorations (fig. 4.12) but there are only a few instances and the quality is a poor match of the variety and inventiveness of the preceding Hellenistic assemblage (fig. 4.9).

suitable blanks. On occasions the branch was not even debarked (e.g. London P009). The outside was shaped first with a blade to a rough cylinder and the work was completed on the lathe. The outside base was frequently turned to a slightly concave profile, to ensure that the piece would sit well, leaving a spindle c 10mm or less in diameter, which was eventually removed with a sharp blade. Two procedures for the hollowing have been identified: one for cylindrical artefacts, which involves turning only, one for globular items, which is more complex. 4.2.5.1 CYLINDRICAL PYXIDES

4.2.5 MANUFACTURE

Two techniques can be identified depending on the profile of the inside base. Figs 4.20 and 4.21 show the two profiles. The flat inner base (fig. 4.20) is characteristic of the material from the east (Black Sea region, Bulgaria and Egypt) and from Italy both in Roman and in Hellenistic times. The conical inner base profile (fig. 4.21) is prevalent in Britain (12 out of 15) and at Vindonissa. It is also found in Vechten in Germania Inferior (Kalee 1981, 245) and in Gaul in civilian contexts in Marseille, at Les Martres de Veyre and in the Gulf of Fos deposits. The shape of the inner base is the result of two different turning procedures. In the case of a flat base, the pyxis is hollowed with a square tipped instrument. At the end of the hollowing process, the artefact is sustained on the lathe on a thin cylindrical core. This now has to be removed, but cutting it with a sharp blade (as is the case for instance with London T005 see page 102) is not always an option because of the restricted access. It can be snapped but that would leave an unsightly rough patch (e.g. UC 28008 from Hawara now at the Petrie Museum). Alternatively the core can be removed with an angular tool leaving a smooth uniform inner base (fig. 4.20 right). There are only two pyxides from Britain with remains of an inner profile suggesting that a flat base is a very strong possibility (Vindolanda P023 and P022). Unfortunately they are fragmentary and in neither case the method for the removal of the core can be ascertained. The same consideration applies to comparable material from the German Limes, which is only known from drawings (the Valkenburg, van Rijn 1993, fig. 27 no. 53 and fig. 28 no. 56) or from casts (the Saalburg, Baatz 1999, 74 fig. 13, nos 6 and 7).

The observations on manufacturing are derived from material that has been personally inspected and from experimental work. The detailed description of making a replica pyxis can be found on page 183.

Fig. 4.20 A pyxis from Bulgaria now at the British Museum (GR 1909 5-206) and the tools postulated for its manufacturing. The dotted line indicates the cutting edge. The squared tipped tool was used for the hollowing process and the angular tool was employed in the removal of the core. The latter tool is modelled on Holtzapffel’s ‘inside parting tool’ for the manufacturing of hollow cylinders in ivory or rare woods closed at one end. With this tool the inside is removed in rings (which can then be used) instead of being machined away completely to dust (Holtzapffel 1881, 317ff.). Scale 1:1 for the pyxis; (drawing by the author). Roman pyxides of whatever shape were all turned on the lathe both inside and outside and all were turned ‘in the spindle’ i.e. with the grain parallel to the axis of rotation.

Conical bases have a characteristic V-shaped section, an acute angle at the join of the wall and the base and a thicker base altogether. They are worked with a different tool the profile of which corresponds roughly to the angle at which the wall and the base meet (fig. 4.21). The hollowing process is similar to

The shaping of the blank and of the outside is considered first. The evidence from the section of the wood shows that roundels from branches made

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Fig. 4.21 Vindolanda P021 a pyxis with a conical base and the tool postulated for its manufacture; the dotted lines indicate the cutting edges -scale 1:1 for the pyxis; (drawing by the author) in its profile. The top end with the flange is c 8mm wide, the other end, where the wall meets the base, is less than 1.5mm thick: the base may have come off during operations. Alternatively the piece was abandoned because not viable. A number of British pyxides, Vindolanda P021, London P038 and P002 for example, show this feature i.e. a wall that is thicker at the mouth than at the base. In the case of Newstead P010 this had ominous consequences. The object had been found whole, albeit without the lid, by Curle (1911, 311) in the early part of the last century. By the end of it, only the base survived and the reason is that, at its junction with the base, the wall was only just over 1mm thick (fig. 4.23). The tool with the slanted tip, on the other hand, has two advantages: it enables the operator to avoid working against the grain of the wood all the time and it can be used for the finishing operations. At the end of the hollowing process, the artefact is sustained on a different shape core (fig. 4.24). This now has to be removed. All pyxides of this sort show that it was first undermined at the base possibly with the same tool, then twisted and snapped; the ensuing rough patch was cleaned out leaving the characteristic ‘V’ shape. This was done either with the touch of a drill or possibly even with the same tool again. The possibility that the blank may first have been drilled through and then mounted on the lathe for hollowing has to be considered but it is not convincing. If that were the case, the inner base could easily have been turned flat. Moreover, when hollowing, it is more time-consuming to machine the wood away than to create a core that can then be removed.

Fig. 4.22 London P026 a possible reject showing in the inside turning marks from an instrument with a flat cutting edge and a drastic reduction of the thickness of the wall of the pyxis which may explain the loss of the base - scale 1:1; (drawing by the author). the one detailed above but the shape of the tool can cause problems because it has an acute, sharp angle and that tends to dig in. Moreover, it is not always easy to hold it in a correct position. London P026 is a clear example of the problem (fig. 4.22). This item was interpreted by this author as a reject since the inner wall surface has been left unfinished. Normally, in the finished product, the inner and the outer surfaces are eventually smoothed with the long side of the implement and bear no manufacturing marks. In London P026 the succession of turning marks left by the tool as it was pushed in against the wall and retrieved regularly to remove shavings and sawdust, is clearly visible. The cause of its demise can be seen

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Fig. 4.23 Left: Newstead P010 as Curle found it at the beginning of the last century (Curle 1911 plate 59); right: as it is now broken and shrunk - scale 1:1; (drawing by the author). exact counterpart in Vindonissa (Ettlinger and von Gonzenbach 1952, 38 fig. 18). It is tempting, therefore, to look at Vindonissa, where boxwood was readily available from the nearby Jura mountains, for the development of this practice. The impetus could have easily have come from local craftsmen meeting an expanding market demand created by the influx of soldiers and civilians. The area has a tradition for woodworking predating the Roman occupation and it is discussed in detail in the section dealing with the origin of medieval vessel turning (page 123ff). The general character of the assemblage of domestic woodwork from the Schutthügel does indeed suggest that a number of new techniques and designs of domestic woodwork were tried out and developed there. It is unfortunate, therefore, that the Vindonissa Schutthügel deposits have a rather loose date (from the early Augustan period to the end of the 1st century AD; Staehelin 1948, 240). By the end of the 1st century this style of pyxis had reached Britain and it can be found slightly later in Gaul (Les Martres de Veyre and Marseille - place Jules Verne excavations).

Fig. 4.24 The inside profile of a pyxis with a conical base before the removal of the core; (drawing by the author). Comparing the two methods one can conclude that while they produced the same artefact on the outside, the inside profile was markedly different with a reduced capacity and impaired functionality for the conical profile. A completely flat and smooth base required two tools and would have been a longer operation. The emergence of an alternative method can be related to the move towards plainer artefacts and larger production. It is not easy to determine where the style was first developed. The globular pyxis from Velsen 1 (fig. 4.13) with a well-documented date (15-30 AD) is the earliest instance of this style. It was undoubtedly manufactured with this procedure, albeit with a different hollowing tool. Since there is no native boxwood in the region, the item must have been imported by the military just like the boxwood sword pommel (van Rijn 1995, no. 3064b), which has an

4.2.5.2 GLOBULAR PYXIDES

This shape, either as truly globular or as a pear shaped container, was manufactured in a variety of ways. The proposed sequences are based on the examination of artefacts from modern Bulgaria presently at the British Museum, from Hawara now at the Petrie Museum at University College London and from les Martres de Veyre. There are no globular pyxides from Britain and unfortunately the ‘three or four’ globular specimens from Velsen 1 (van Rijn 1995, nos 3268, 3140 and 1995.1) cannot any longer be located. Only one has been published (Kalee 1979; Vons 1979).

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Fig. 4.25 Roman globular pyxides. Left: from Sistova in Bulgaria showing a rough patch on the inside surface of the base. It is the scar of the core which was snapped. The hollowing was executed, at least in part, with a tool with a rounded end which has left clear ripple marks on the inside wall (BM GR 1910 5-11-1). Middle: from Hawara in Egypt (Petrie Museum UC 28012). Right: from Novae in Bulgaria (BM GR 1910 6-13-1). Both were probably first drilled through and subsequently mounted on a lathe. Two tools were used for the hollowing process: the base was executed first then the globular inner shape was manufactured with a hook tool possibly with an angled shaft (both artefacts show a change of tool at *). Scale 1:2, drawing by the author. While pre-Roman globular shapes were not consistently hollowed on the lathe, in Roman times these were turned both outside and inside and they bear clear marks of the process.

4.2.5.3 LIDS

Lids are narrow discs c 15mm in height; their manufacture presents a problem to the turner. While a pyxis’ body can double up as a mandrel and a cord can be wrapped around it, this is not possible with a lid because it is too narrow for the purpose. Lids can be part turned with the bodies and these will provide a suitable mandrel, but the time always comes when they have to be separated and assembled to check the fit. Lids, at least judging from the British material, are normally carefully worked and that is not surprising. A lid is a highly visible element of a pyxis and there is no room for prominent spindle or core scars. The examination of the assemblage from Britain has shown that the problem was circumvented in a variety of ways, which are detailed below. The crude method adopted for the manufacture of London P006 (fig. 4.18) is the exception rather than the rule and has resulted in an unsightly scar on the top of the lid

There are two methods. If the mouth is large enough, the inside is completely hollowed out on the lathe and the core is eventually snapped (fig. 4.25 left from Sistova). On the other hand, the profiles from Velsen (fig. 4.13) and from Les Martres de Veyre (fig. 4.34) with the characteristic ‘V’ shape suggest that the same procedure described above (i.e. the conical base) was applied to globular pyxides as well. It shows that these items were manufactured in western Europe north of the Alps. In other instances, such as the pyxis from Novae in Bulgaria or the late 3rd century pomegranate vase from Hawara (fig. 4.25 right and middle), the flat base inner base with a small scar suggests that the inside was first drilled and then hollowed on the lathe. .

Fig. 4.26 Three lids which have been perforated for a knob. From the left: Carlisle P034 (in which the opening has a wooden plug), Carlisle P016 and London P037. Scale 2:3; (drawing by the author).

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Fig. 4.27 Left: Vindolanda P020; right: London P025. Both lids that have been completely turned both inside and outside with very small core and spindle scars on both inner and outer surfaces. They may have been turned with a pressure mandrel positioned against the flat surface. Scale 2:3;( drawing by the author). Perforated lids. Carlisle P016 and P034 and London P037, (fig. 4.26) are instances of perforated lids. In this case substantial spindle and core were left on both sides of the artefact. They were subsequently removed and the whole area was drilled through and probably fitted with a knob in either wood, ivory or metal. In the case of London P037 traces of the original core are still apparent on the underside.

(York P033, fig. 4.15) shows unequivocally the use of a mandrel. This lid was turned on the underside to a thin core which was eventually snapped. The piece was remounted on the lathe with the assistance of a cylindrical piece of wood with four metal spikes that have left telltale signs on the underside of the lid. The cord was wrapped around it and the piece was completed on its upper side. No other lid shows these marks. It can be suggested that, in lids of a small size, a mandrel would function adequately by friction if in close contact with a flat surface. Such a pressure mandrel has been shown experimentally to work adequately and could explain not only the manufacturing of some lids (fig. 4.27) but also Fishbourne T011 (see page 110 for a full discussion). The main problem in this approach is centring the mandrel. The decorative double groove in the middle of Fishbourne T011 could have fulfilled that purpose, alternatively the mandrel could be centred with a small metal point and there are indeed traces of very fine single perforations in the centres of some lids.

It is more difficult, on the other hand, to explain the presence of very fine spindle and core scars especially when they are apparent on both sides of the same lid. It is well known that boxwood can be turned to exceedingly fine diameters but there must be limits. London P007 and P025 and Vindolanda P020 are suitable examples. In these artefacts the top is completely turned and the underside has a core scar that is only 2mm in diameter which would be inadequate to sustain any turning. There are two possible scenarios i.e. the use of a mandrel or combined turning. The mandrel. A mandrel is an appliance around which a cord or strap can be wrapped to impart the rotary motion to an artefact mounted on a lathe. It is used when the shape of the item is such that no part of it can be used for the purpose. In turning a chair leg, different sections can be used in turn: the artefact itself acts as a mandrel. A bowl, on the other hand, will always need a mandrel at some stage, because the cord cannot easily be wrapped around a sloping surface. The earliest instance for the use of this procedure is a narrow, flat, turned lid of an Etruscan cista from Praeneste (Villa Giulia Museum, Rome no. 107). Its underside shows that the turning was carried out with the assistance of a mandrel fixed with four metal spikes. Conclusive evidence for the use of mandrels in Roman times in Britain comes from the numerous shale waste cores from Dorset. These discs have various shaped depressions into which a wooden mandrel of the appropriate section could be driven (Calkin 1953).

Fig. 4.28 A pyxis from the Pozzino wreck off the coast of Tuscany, probably finished by turning body and lid together as one object (Spawforth 1990, 10).

For wooden objects, only one artefact of Roman date

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Combined turning. As intimated above the lid and the body have to be checked in the course of operations to see if they fit; so, at some stage, they have to be separated if they have been turned from one piece of wood. Moreover, some pyxides (e.g. fig. 4.28) have a swooping curvature that may be difficult to achieve without fitting lid and body together. It is suggested that after completing the inside of both body and lid and after the flanges had been perfected and found to produce a good fit, the whole pyxis could be turned as one item. This system would then provide a mandrel (using either the artefact itself or the spindle at the base of the body which is always quite substantial) for the finishing of the outside of the lid to a very fine spindle and for a final smoothing of the surface. This method has been tested experimentally and is explained in detail on page 184

5) and from the tumuli in the Kertch and Taman areas on the Black Sea coast (Pinelli and Wasowicz 1986, 129-172 and Vaulina and Wasowicz 1974, 145-150). These instances can be imputed to the development of favourable localised micro-environments. Finds from civilian settlements are even rarer. The largest civilian assemblage comes from London (15 in all). Isolated instances are known from Saintes (Archaeology Museum nos 81.63, 87.83 and 87.86), Schagen-Muggenburg, a native settlement in Holland (van Rijn pers. comm.), Heckenmunster (near Trier, retrieved from a holy spring; Kalee 1981, 246). In the Mediterranean, apart from the specimens from Marseille (place Jules Verne excavations uncatalogued), the evidence originates mainly from wrecks (Pozzino, Conservation Services, Florence nos 131395A and 131469; Comacchio, Desantis 1990, 108 nos 232-234; Gulf of Fos, Leffy 1990, nos 33-37 and Istres Museum uncatalogued; Port Vendres II, Colls et al 1977, fig. 50). A detailed analysis of the distribution of the material cannot be attempted given the random nature of its survival. The following observations can however be made concerning size and style.

4.2.6 DISTRIBUTION All the British material originates from highly romanised contexts. Most is found in rubbish dumps. Apart from Corbridge P011 from a hoard (see above), only one instance of a different deposition process can be mentioned in relation to the group from 179 Borough High St. in London-Southwark.

4.2.6.1 SIZE

The diameters of bodies or lids are a good indication of the kind of raw material available. Both the Hellenistic and Roman items from the Crimean region (most of which are in boxwood Pinelli and Wasowicz 1986, 129) show an even distribution in size (ranging from 30 to over 90mm) suggesting that all the components of the tree were available. There is no boxwood in the immediate vicinity of the peninsula. The nearest is in the Caucasus or across the Black Sea in Paphlagonia: it must have come in as a whole tree. This contrasts markedly with the Vindonissa group (all of which is in boxwood) in which well over half the sample has a diameter of 3545mm suggesting the harvesting of boxwood branches from the nearby eastern slopes of the Jura mountains.

This assemblage with a date no later than the early 2nd century includes three pyxides, a comb, a needlecase and a ladle. The lack of buildings in the immediate surrounding area suggests that the assemblage may be a consignment, possibly from a ship, that for some reason was not retrieved (C. Maloney pers. comm.). The material is all of a very high quality. Because of its early date and its connections with similar artefacts on the continent (see above for London P004; for London T056 see page 141), a group of imports looks a possibility. On the continent, north of the Alps, finds of pyxides concentrate on military sites: Vindonissa in the Germania Superior has about 30. Smaller assemblages have been found at Velsen 1 (Kalee 1979; van Rijn 1995); at Vechten (Kalee 1981, 245); at the Valkenburg (van Rijn, 1993,185 nos 53-56), at the Saalburg (Baatz 1999, nos 6-9) and at Oberwinterthur (Fellmann 1991, 27 nos 42-43).

For the British material the picture is complicated by the presence of alternative species (willow, hazel, elm, maple, beech, apple and ash) in a variety not attested anywhere else. 4.2.6.2 STYLE

Material from civilian and burial contexts is generally speaking badly represented. Finds from funerary contexts are known from Gaul (Les Martres de Veyre in the Auvergne, Audollent 1922, 303-304), from Bulgaria (e.g. the necropolis at Novae, now at the British Museum: GR 1910 6-13-1 and GR 1909 5-20-

The material from western Europe north of the Alps shares to a very large extent the same manufacturing technique with the V-shaped base, a style started in the 1st century AD in Vindonissa. This profile is not found at all in the eastern part of the Empire. Also

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3, 210) in early imperial times and later in the 6th century AD very specifically by Isidore of Seville (‘Pyxis: vascula unguentaria ex buxo’ Etymologies 290, 7, 1). Scribonius Largus, the 1st century physician, advocated the use of pyxides in a variety of raw materials ranging from lead to bronze, glass and boxwood for different medical preparations (Taborelli 1996). The connection with the physician’s world is also exemplified in the medical vocabulary: a pyxidicula was a container for collyria (Celsus, De Medicina 6, 6, 25) and a tripuxium a remedy derived from substances held in three different containers (Pottier 1873). The archaeological evidence has confirmed this association: most of the pyxides from the Crimean region came from female graves and some of them contained remains of make-up (e.g. Vaulina and Wasowicz 1974, 147 no. 71 which had traces of white powder and rouge). Equally elements of the cargo of the late 2nd century BC Pozzino wreck off the coast of Tuscany support the connection with the medical world. Over one hundred small, drilled pyxides have been retrieved from the sunken ship together with the remains of a wooden figurine of Asclepius and discs of zinc carbonate which were the base preparation for collyria (Nicosia and Romualdi 1990, 12).

specific to this area are the very small ‘useless’ pyxides (e.g. Carlisle P017 see below). Items with alternative profiles (globular or pear shaped) are rather poorly represented in the West and must be considered therefore mainly an eastern European tradition. Finally, apart from the button-lid pyxides (see above) with a distribution covering central and south-eastern Gaul there are no identifiable regional styles.

4.2.7 THE USE OF THE PYXIS The pyxis is primarily a container, but it would be inappropriate to assume that this was its purpose all the time. The volume of the enclosed space is obviously a function of the size of raw material used (most times the segment of a branch); as a result, a large proportion of the artefacts of Roman date do not exceed 50-60mm in diameter. Some are much smaller and it can be doubted that they were intended to hold anything at all: Carlisle P017 and Corbridge P011 (fig. 4.29), which are truly diminutive, may have had no practical use whatsoever. Pyxides from Les Martres de Veyre, a burial site in the Auvergne in which preservation conditions were very favourable to the survival of a large variety of organic materials, from human hair to foodstuff, lather and textiles, are slightly larger but they were found empty (Audollent 1922, 303ff). This suggests that they were deposited in that state and were intended as offerings in their own right.

It is difficult, though, to accept that such a good design was not exploited by other sections of society. The tall pyxis from the wreck at Port Vendres II off the coast of north-eastern Spain, may provide such an example: it contained five fish-hooks (Colls et al. 1977, 123). Contamination of the deposit cannot be ruled out, but the tall and narrow profile of the artefact makes it unlikely (it is 95mm tall and its inner diameter is only 19-21mm, L. Del’ Furia pers. comm.). It is on balance much more likely that anyone in need of a small protected space for whatever purpose would use a wooden pyxis: it was the easiest option as is explained below.

Fig. 4.29 Left: Carlisle P017 (Padley forthcoming a, K9); right: Corbridge P011 (Allason-Jones and Bishop 1988, 83 no 292); scale 1:1.

4.2.CONCLUSIONS

Information on the practical use of the container comes both from the archaeology and from the classical sources, however, the latter tend to use the term rather liberally referring most times only to design of the container and disregarding its raw material. According to the written sources, pyxides were associated both with the female private environment and with the medical world. The advantage of a closed container for medicinal substances as well as for unguents and make-up requires no elaboration. The connection is mentioned by Ovid (Ars Amatoria

The pyxis in its simplest expression is a very efficient way of creating a small, protected space. A jointed box requires six separate elements; all of them must be precisely measured and manufactured for a good fit. A carved box has only two continuous surfaces, one for the body and one for the lid and two-piece carved boxes are known from pre-Roman and Roman times (see page 60). The number of measurements needed in this case is reduced compared to a jointed box; the required regular shape, however, has to be achieved by hand.

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Fig. 4.30 Roman pyxides in alternative materials. Above: from Aquileia (south-west necropolis - early 1st century AD - scale 1:1; (drawing by the Roman Museum, Aquileia). Below left: shale from the Thetford treasure of late Roman date. British Museum P. 1981.2-1.83 - scale 1:2; (Johns and Potter 1983 no.83). Below right:a 4th century jet pyxis from Krefeld Gellep, grave 1223. Museum Burg Linn 1223/2 – scale 1:1; (Pirling 1966 plate 118 no. 4). Far right - set of three stacking pyxides with a fourth box acting as a lid originally from Italy; the artefacts, three in bronze and one in brass, have no joins; each section was raised by hammering. British Museum GR 1968, 6-26, 37 - scale 1:2; (Jackson 1986 fig. 5 no 36).

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When the manufacturing process is carried out by turning, on the other hand, a number of regular surfaces are automatically generated: the base is flat, parallel to the rim and to the edge of the lid. Regular flanges are cut simply by applying the tool to the turning cylinder. The number of measurements and of potential problems is drastically reduced. Moreover, the process of hollowing is more easily and speedily executed on the lathe than by carving. Experimental work has shown that the most difficult part of turning a pyxis consists in developing the right tool and working out the correct sequence. When these problems have been mastered the work is relatively simple, certainly for a good turner. This contrasts markedly with the manufacture of good quality combs for example. Cutting fine, regular teeth the whole length of the comb requires, besides the right implement and the correct instructions, years of experience.

possible, but it is a less efficient and therefore more costly process. The result moreover may not be as useful. While jet and in shale for instance can be worked on the lathe like wood, the availability of the raw material is limited. Clay, on the other hand, can be procured more easily; pottery pyxides, however, are rare. According to Karen Disney and Sally Morgan (Ceramic Department, East Devon College, Tiverton), there is no problem in throwing a cylindrical form and matching lid on the wheel. The problem is that the slightest imperfection would make the artefact useless and could not be corrected after firing. The two elements could be fired together to assure a good fit provided the temperature stayed below vitrification; should it occur, lid and body would not separate. Such considerations suggest to this author that while the process was feasible, it may not have been so simple. Metal pyxides are also known although Nero’s gold pyxis with its poison content (Suetonius, Nero 47) has so far eluded the archaeologists. There are different procedures. The piece can be constructed from a metal sheet. This means that the sides have to be joined and the base fixed separately, and the same process has to be repeated for the lid. Alternatively, the piece can be beaten into shape. In this case there are no joins, but the process requires experienced craftsmanship. Silver pyxides, like the set in the Muses casket from the Esquiline treasure, were probably cast. In addition to bone, horn and antler were also used as they offer ready hollow cylinders. They can produce very pleasing results and can be turned. The base however, still has to be manufactured and fitted separately either in a groove, or fixed with adhesive or small pegs. Should a flanged lid be required, it would have to be constructed. Solid ivory is the only alternative to wood which is ironic, since the turned boxwood pyxis was developed in the first place as an alternative to ivory itself.

These considerations go some way towards explaining how the design of the pyxis became so popular in the Roman world. As a turned wooden object, it could be produced relatively cheaply and speedily. If boxwood was not available, alternative species could and were indeed used. The British sample has an interesting variety including beech (London P003), willow (Bar Hill P013), hazel (Carlisle P015) and maple (London P006). The shape also was translated into other media (including basketry - Boscoreale Antiquarium no. 7308) much to Seneca’s chagrin. His was a question of linguistic correctness: ‘certain things are designated by the same term even at the expense of some inaccuracy e.g. golden and silver pyxis; it is inaccurate to use the same term because gold and silver vessels are not pyxides’ (De Beneficiis 5, 13, 3). In practical terms the problem is of a different nature: manufacturing a plain hollow cylindrical shape with a flanged lid in any material other than wood is

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4.3 TURNED AND DRILLED BOXES Working on the lathe was not the only way to produce small wooden containers in antiquity. The evidence shows that a variety of alternative approaches were experimented with and they are first touched upon in this section. The analysis is then followed by an in depth discussion of one specific group of turned and drilled artefacts i.e. the needlecases which are particularly well represented in Britain.

exclusive to woodworking. A number of procedures, ranging from the manufacture of two-part vessels to hollowing by drilling, have been identified and investigated; they are discussed below. 4.3.1.1 TWO-PART VESSELS

The simplest way to produce a hollow vessel is to make it in two parts. This was the standard procedure for Mycenean narrow-necked stone vessels in which the separate neck was held in place by friction and/or by pegs (Tournavitou 1995, 215). The evidence that such an approach was used for wood consists of a very limited number of items (fig. 4.31). One is a small flagon of Roman date from Kertch on the Black sea; the section drawing shows how it was constructed. In the west, the only possible candidate is a pyxis from Praeneste. Upon examination the artefact showed a deep groove in the area near the mouth; moreover, the corresponding inner surface looked discontinuous. This suggests that the item may have been constructed in two pieces. Unfortunately this is an old find and conservation has been rather heavy handed with it. Consequently no firm conclusion could be reached.

4.3.1 HOLLOWING WOOD IN ANTIQUITY

The same approach, but from a different angle, can be seen quite clearly, on the other hand, on couple of artefacts from Samos dated to the late 7th century BC (Kopcke 1967, 123 nos 17 and 18). These are wooden perfume aryballoi made of two identical halves held together by pegs (fig. 4.32). The idea may have been borrowed from Egypt where artefacts similar in construction and decoration are known in stone and in faience. These are however isolated instances. The evidence shows that artefacts that could not be conveniently hollowed with a chisel or on the lathe were dealt with by scraping, by drilling or by boring.

Fig. 4.31 Two-part wooden vessels. Left: from Praeneste. The object, shown with its lid on fig. 4.9, has undergone very intrusive conservation procedures. The arrow indicates the deep groove and the section shows how it was possibly constructed. Villa Giulia Museum, Rome no. 13642 - scale 2:3; (drawing by the author). Right: from the Black Sea region – scale 2:3; (Vaulina and Wasowicz 1974 , 150 no. 76 and plate 127 e-h).

4.3.1.2 SCRAPING

The practice of hollowing small artefacts by scraping has to be postulated for some early material normally pronounced ‘turned’ with no further elaboration. Some Etruscan globular vessels from Praeneste and an item from el Cigarralejo in Spain are suitable examples (fig. 4.33).

There is no doubt that most hollow wooden artefacts were manufactured in antiquity either by turning or by carving. Such procedures have, however, limitations linked either to specific shapes, e.g. the manufacture of globular vessels with narrow openings, or are a function of size and this refers to the hollowing of very small artefacts. The evidence shows that alternative procedures and tools were used. Some were borrowed from other crafts, such as the manufacturing of stone vessels; others were

The latter site is a collection a of cremation graves dated to the 4th to 2nd century BC in south-eastern Spain from which small fragmentary wooden items have been retrieved in a charred state. From the available publications (Hundt 1968; Cuadrado 1968) it can be seen that, while some items were clearly

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turned both inside and outside (e.g. fig. 7.1), others are more problematic. In some cases the fragments are too small to provide a secure guide for reconstruction and are therefore not considered; for the item in question, which is apparently complete, hollowing on the lathe, on the other hand, has to be ruled out. Work on such a small diameter could only be achieved by hand scraping possibly preceded by drilling. These considerations can be extended to the manufacturing of some small early globular vessels like the one from Praeneste shown in fig 4.33.

Fig. 4.34 A vessel with narrow opening hollowed on the lathe in Roman times. The globular pyxis from Les Martres de Veyre . Musée Bargoin, Clermont Ferrand no. 987.23.32 - scale 1:1; (drawing by the author). Unfortunately, the examination of the material from this site presently at the Villa Giulia Museum in Rome, has proved disappointing since the items are now deformed and fragmentary while intrusive conservation procedures have obliterated most manufacturing marks.

Fig. 4.32 An alternative way of making two-part vessels: a wooden perfume holder from Samos made of two symmetrical halves joined by pegs - scale 1:4; (Kopcke 1967. 123 fig.8).

The practice of hollowing small items by hand scraping does not appear to have survived in the west in Roman times. The minuscule artefact (fig. 4.34) quoted by Audollent in his report on finds from Les Martres de Veyre as hand hollowed (Audollent 1922, 303), proved upon close examination to have been completely made on the lathe: unequivocal turning marks and a core scar on the inside are there to prove it. The technique, however, may have had a longer life in the east as a couple of artefacts from Hawara in Egypt now at the Petrie Museum in London and dated to the 3rd century AD, suggest (fig. 4.35). In UC 28022 while the outside is turned (there is a poppet hole on the base plugged with a piece of wood), the inside, which is only 10mm wide at the mouth, must have been hollowed by drilling followed by scraping. The inside base still bears the mark of the drill point. The artefact could not have been drilled and mounted on a lathe because there would be no space for the insertion of a tool. In the other instance (UC 29014), the outer, smooth, regular surface suggests turning and there is the trace of a small sawn off spindle at the base to prove it, but

Fig 4.33 Pre-Roman hollowed wooden vessels. Left: from Praeneste .Villa Giulia Museum, Rome no. 126 – scale 1:1; (drawing by the author). Right: El Cigarallejo in south-eastern Spain - scale 1:1; (Cuadrado 1968, grave 277 no. 2716 and fig. 27 no.7). They are both probably turned outside but must have been hollowed by scraping because of the small size of the openings.

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the inside tells a different story. The irregular, coarse grooves are the marks of a scraping action with a

The vast majority of the items from western Europe hollowed by alternative procedures consist of vessels manufactured with a drill fitted with a spoon bit; in only one case the use of the hollow drill can be postulated. The next section, dealing with hollowing by drilling closes with the examination of one item that was, in all probability, manufactured using a technique borrowed from stone working. 4.3.1.3 DRILLING

Hollowing with the spoon bit. The material considered in this section comes from Britain, Gaul and Italy. All these artefacts share a feature i.e. the inner profile is very narrow and deep; it is very straight and there are no irregular surfaces suggesting scraping. They have all been hollowed by drilling with a spoon bit (fig. 4.37), a drill attachment for which there is widespread evidence in the archaeological record (e.g. Gaitzsch 1980, nos 185, 186, 229, 230).

Fig. 4.35 Vessels hollowed by scraping and drilling in Roman times: two examples from Hawara. Left:a vessel hollowed by scraping. Petrie Museum UC 29014 - scale 1:2. Right: a vessel hollowed by drilling and scraping. Petrie Museum UC 2802 scale 1:1; (drawing by the author).

The earliest instance in this category is the material from the Pozzino wreck (140-120 BC) excavated in the 1980s in the waters off the coast of Tuscany. The finds include an assemblage of over 136 small, drilled vessels. Most of them are turned on the outside and have lids fitting turned flanges; some, on the other hand, have been only been pared with a sharp knife to a roughly cylindrical shape, show no flanges and have a stopper rather than a lid (fig. 4.38). The diminutive containers were intended to be housed in larger conventional pyxides in tin or wood and indeed some have been found in situ. It has been suggested that these small containers were used for medical preparations (Nicosia and Romualdi 1990, 12).

Fig 4.36 A kohl pot from Avenches hollowed by scraping. Roman Museum, Avenches no. 97/10264 scale 1:1; (drawing by the author). sharp tool. The container was not drilled to start with; it was entirely hollowed by hand. It represents a suitable comparandum for the small, lidded pot from Avenches which was manufactured with the same procedure (fig. 4.36). This item has been described as a kohl pot (Blanc et al. 1999, 58 no. 40) because of the thick, perforated lid. It might therefore originate from Egypt, which lends support to the hypothesis that this was, in Roman times, an eastern Mediterranean practice.

Fig. 4.37 A spoon bit of Roman date from Niederbieber - scale c 1:3; (Gaitzsch 1980 plate 47 no. 231). From Gaul come two tall pyxides, one from Marseille (fig. 4.39) and the other from the Port Vendres II wreck (Musée d’Archéologie sous marine, Port Vendres no. PV. 94.2.232). They are very similar. Both are tall, narrow and hollowed deep. Both have a

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flange: unfortunately neither lid has survived.

mechanical device with no subsequent manual interventions to complete the task.

The British material belonging to this category consists entirely of neeedlecases and is described in detail in the next section. The narrow inner profile of these artefacts is very similar. The walls are very straight and the base curves gently. As the experimental work on the manufacture of needlecases has shown (see page 187) such profile can be easily achieved by employing a drill fitted with a spoon bit.

Fig 4.39 Roman artefact hollowed by drilling with the spoon bit only: the tall pyxis from Marseille - place Jules Verne excavations - Musée de l’Histoire de Marseille uncatalogued - scale 1:1; (drawing by the author). Hollowing with the tubular drill. There is only one instance of the use of this practice on wooden artefacts and it comes from the 1st century AD Vindonissa deposits. It consists of a small globular vase with a maximum diameter of 40mm. The inside has been hollowed by scraping to match the outer rounded profile. First, though, the artefact has been drilled with a tubular drill. In order to avoid any problems with the removal of the core, the drilling did not stop at the inner base, but went though it. The core was therefore removed inside the drill. For this reason, the base has a very neat perforation 16mm in diameter. That was the size of the drill. The finished artefacts would have been made good with a wooden plug of a matching size which has not survived.

Fig. 4.38 Early vessels hollowed by drilling with the spoon bit only: the two styles of small pyxides from the Pozzino wreck. Conservation Services, Florence uncatalogued - scale 1:1; (drawing by the author). The alternative technique involving the use of a tubular drill, a hollow copper cylinder fixed on a wooden shaft, can be ruled out for the manufacture of these artefacts. The hollow drill operates with the assistance of quarzite sand and cuts the inside as a core rather machining it all away in shavings like the spoon bit does. The problem is that at the end of operations, the core remains connected to the base of the artefact. It would be very difficult to chisel it away in such a constricted space and leave no tell tale signs like chisel marks or irregular surfaces.

4.3.1.4 HOLLOWING WOOD LIKE STONE

An ash globular vessel dated to the 1st/early 2nd century AD from Marseille (fig. 4.40) is a possible instance of a wooden vase hollowed with the same technique used for stone vessels.

The large assemblage from the Pozzino wreck offers corroborative evidence in this respect. The examination of a limited sample (only 45 of the drilled vessels could be inspected by this author, the rest are still in conservation), showed a remarkable consistency in shape, size and appearance of the inner profiles. This could only be achieved by using a

The artefact, which is complete, is turned on the outside but bears no marks of any lathe attachments inside. The shape, quite narrow-mouthed and tall, is a more challenging profile to achieve than the globular pyxides (page 78) which were hollowed on the lathe in Roman times. In the case of this artefact the tools required for hollowing it on the lathe would have

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been of a length and fineness likely to cause them to snap under the strain. While this is not a good shape to attempt on the lathe it is known in many instances in stone (e.g. fig. 4.41) and that is where the inspiration may have originated.

The sequence devised by Stocks in his experimental manufacturing of stone vessels looks a distinct possibility for the Marseille wooden vase. According to him (Stocks 1993, 596), tubular drills were only used for the initial hollowing of bulbous stone vessels. In his experimental work (ibid. 601) he used a double tubular drill and quarzite sand regularly lifting the drill and removing the core with a chisel and a mallet until he reached the bottom of the vessel. In a wooden vase, because of the grain of the wood, such an operation would have to be done with great care and would anyway leave an unsightly scar on the inside base. The next step however, would solve the problem. According to Stocks after the initial drilling, the shaping of the inside was done in antiquity by grinding the stone with the assistance of figure-ofeight borers of ever increasing sizes (fig. 4.42). The abrasive action produced by these borers engaged in a forked shaft and rotating in conjunction with quarzite sand, would not only produce the required profile but smooth out the inner base of the vessel as well.

Fig. 4.40 A wooden vessel hollowed like a stone vessel: the globular vase from Marseille - place Jules Verne excavations. Musée de l’Histoire de Marseille uncatalogued - scale 1:2; (drawing by the author). Hollowed stone vessels are well known from Egypt and Mesopotamia and show, on the inside, striations caused by the abrasive material (Stocks 1993, 596). Finds from Mycene (Tournavitou 1995, 218) include a number of unfinished vases bearing, on the inside surface, scars consistent with the use of tubular drills. According to Tournavitou (ibid.), the drilling was used to weaken the internal structure; the redundant stone was then chiselled away and the inner surface made good with abrasives. This strategy would only work up to a point with the find in question. The narrow neck, the fine walls and the well-rounded inner profile suggest a more complex technique.

Fig 4.42 Left: figure-of-eight stone borers for hollowing stone vases from Egypt and Mesopotamia. Right: a borer mounted on a forked wooden shaft; (Stocks 1993 fig. 1b). The hypothesis that the procedure would work for the vase from Marseille, is borne out by Stocks’ own experiment in which he manufactured a limestone vessel of a comparable shape and size (107mm tall 100mm maximum diameter). If tubular drills and figure-of-eight borers worked on stone, they are bound to work on wood and since the technique was well established for stone in classical times, it may be surprising that it was so little applied to wood. Time may have been a factor; in Stocks’

Fig. 4.41 Globular stone vase from Herculaneum. Herculaneum Antiquarium no. 660 - scale 1:2; (drawing by the author).

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experiment (Stocks 1993, 602), the drilling of the stone vessel took five hours to complete and the shaping of the interior, by figure-of-eight stone borers, took another ten.

Fig 4.43 Section drawing of two pyxis lids. Left: from the Pozzino wreck. Conservation Services, Florence no. 131466 – scale 1:1; (drawing by the author). Right: from the Kertch- scale 1:1; (Vaulina and Wasowicz 1974, 146 no. 67and plate 126 no 67b). The two items were manufactured with the same technique. In conclusion, the technique of hollowing wood by drilling with a spoon bit was certainly mastered by the 2nd century BC if not before, and was used to manufacture sophisticated domestic artefacts.

Fig. 4.44 A possible needlecase prototype from Oberwinterthur - scale 1:2; (Fellmann 1991 plate 8 no. 47).

The sparse evidence suggests that the practice that eventually peaked in the designing and manufacturing of needlecases, originated in the eastern Mediterranean. According to the excavators of the Pozzino wreck, the cargo indicate that the ship that eventually foundered off the coast of Tuscany, had been at Rhodos and Chios (amphorae) and in Syria-Palestine (glass vessels) (Nicosia and Romualdi 1990, 31). The evidence supplied by the cargo is confirmed by technical aspects relating to the wooden objects themselves. As fig. 4.43 shows the profiles of a number of small wooden lids belonging to containers from the wreck match that of an artefact from Kertch in the Crimea and dated to the 4th century BC. The knob on the underside shows that craftsmen were using the same finishing technique.

instances from Roman Britain (London P029, Vindolanda P030, Vindolanda P031 and Carlisle P032 with dates from the 70s to the early 2nd century at latest). These artefacts are very similar. There are no known instances outside Britain. The fragmentary item from Oberwinterthur dated to the very beginning of the 1st century AD (Fellmann 1991, 36 no. 47), represents no close comparandum for the British material. It may well be part of a needlecase as the author suggests (ibid. 28), but more likely of one of a simpler design (fig. 4.44). The artefact is remarkably uniform from end to end: it would perform adequately as a simple case, with the needles housed inside and various threads wrapped around the outside and separated by the prominent ridges. It may well represent an earlier stage in the development of the more complex artefact which is the object of this section.

The technique of hollowing with the spoon bit reached its apex in the 1st century AD and is not documented beyond the early 2nd century (date of the latest relevant material, i.e. the case from Marseille fig. 4.39). Alternative hollowing procedures involving the use of tubular drills, scraping and abrasives were known but not widely practised.

4.3.2.1 MORPHOLOGY

Needlecases are containers made of two separate components (fig. 4.45). The body is a long, hollow, narrow shank housing the needles and attached to a wider flanged lid. The cover is hollow to a depth exceeding the length of the shank and is equally flanged. Inner and outer surfaces of both items are coaxial. The two components are designed to fit together and look like a tall cylinder. A reasonably tight grip would certainly be desirable to keep the case well shut and afford maximum protection to the needles.

4.3.2 NEEDLECASES The evidence for this category is based on the four

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Two possible strategies have been identified. The first one is common to all artefacts of this category. It has been observed that while the narrow shank of the body is always turned to a smooth surface, the area connecting its top end to the lid and hidden by the flange, tapers outwards and has been left rough. This suggests an attempt at improving the grip by increasing friction in the flange area.

The constituent material is boxwood in every instance but while the smaller pyxides could and were manufactured from branches, the blank for components of needlecases, which had to be in the region of 110mm in height, dead straight and free from knots, could more readily come from the trunk. This analysis is supported by the evidence showing that the artefacts were manufactured out of quarter sawn billets with the grain of the wood running parallel to the length of the artefact. It is of course impossible to know if boxwood was used in the seasoned or unseasoned state. Experimental work on combmaking has shown (page 180) how hard boxwood can be when worked in the grain. It is very possible that as for pyxides, the material was used unseasoned at least for the hollowing.

The second approach can only be seen in one instance namely Vindolanda P030 (fig. 4.45). In this item the cover’s flange is not straight but has been turned with a definite kink. It could be an artifice to improve the grip by forcing the flange against the rough surface of the shank. Experimentally this did not appear a successful strategy since the flange, although very finely turned, remained excessively stiff and unwieldy.

4.3.2.2 MANUFACTURE

The observations on manufacturing techniques are derived from the examination of the artefacts themselves and have been tested experimentally (see page 186). As intimated above, these artefacts were turned to shape the outside while the hollowing was achieved

Fig. 4.45 Vindolanda P030, a complete needlecase and terms used - scale 1:2; (drawing by the author).

The cover may look, on the outside, like the tall, drilled pyxides from Marseille (fig. 4.39) and Port Vendres II discussed above, but is certainly different inside. It has been hollowed with a larger drill to a straighter profile thereby producing a cavity big enough for the shank. The body is hollowed on the whole length of the shank and beyond. The shank itself has a bulbous end to strengthen it and a number of beads on its length separating areas onto which different threads could be wound. The walls of both shank and cover have been turned to a fineness of a few millimetres.

Fig 4.46 The drill used to hollow the experimental needlecase; (photo E. Francis).

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Fig 4.47 The manufacturing and use of pegs for the turning of outer surfaces coaxial with perforations. Left: a blank hollowed from end to end and pared to a roughly cylindrical outer surface. Middle: the manufacturing of turning pegs. A wooden cylinder is reduced and shaped on the lathe; it is shown in the drawing with the strap wrapped around it. The prepared cylinder is then sawn in half to make two pegs. Right: the pegs are inserted at each end of the hollow blank which can now be mounted on the lathe for the turning of an outer surface coaxial with the perforation; the blank is mounted correctly on the lathe by using the poppet marks on the pegs; (drawing by the author). by drilling with a spoon bit. The turning of the outside is proved by the spindle scars on both the cover and on the body. The drilling of the inside has to be postulated in view of the narrowness and straightness of the deep cavities. Moreover, there are no traces of core scars suggesting that the hollowing was carried out on the lathe between two points.

sufficient pressure and overcome friction (fig. 4.46). The use of drills set in a frame has been postulated for the hollowing of stone mace heads in Neolithic times; a reconstructed specimen operated by a bow can be seen in the Poznan Archaeological Museum in Poland. Transverse handles on drills are known from medieval contexts in Novgorod (Kolchin 1989, 22) and have been postulated by Gaitzsch for the Roman material (1980, 30). The concept is certainly older than that. Stocks’ twist/reverse twist drill, which he postulated as an alternative to the bow drill for specific categories of stone work and for which he found evidence in Egyptian iconography dated to the 3rd millennium BC (Stocks 1993, 599), is a possible precursor. This approach proved very successful experimentally.

There are various ways of setting up the drilling. The very simplest procedure has been discussed and tested by Earwood (1993, 209). Her experimental bow drill with a diamond-shaped bit could produce a perforation with a diameter of 22mm and 11mm deep in some 10 minutes. This procedure would not be adequate for the depth and precision required for the artefacts in question. Both components of needlecases have to be drilled to a depth of about 80mm. A handheld drill might eventually reach the required depth in several stages but at the expense of accuracy. Experimentally, it proved impossible to keep the drill dead straight for the whole length of the operation. Moreover, the bow was quite ineffective at overcoming friction.

The drilling must be done before the turning of the outside of the artefact and this for two reasons. The first one is connected to the drilling process itself. This requires the drill to be turned quite forcefully applying considerable pressure while of course the blank must not move. If the blank has been turned and is therefore cylindrical in shape, it is impossible to block it effectively and it will tend to move in the drilling process; on the other hand, a blank with a square section can be gripped into a slot of the same shape and size. Secondly, if the outside is done first, the slightest error in the drill’s alignment will result in the perforation of the very fine walls. Moreover, the very action of drilling could fatally weaken the walls if they are already thin. When the drilling of both body and cover is completed, the needlecase is ready to be finished on the lathe after some preliminary paring with a sharp blade to give the blank a roughly cylindrical shape.

An alternative consists in doing the drilling on a lathe. The procedure, described by Brown for a pole lathe (1993), involves mounting a chuck with the drill bit fitted in it at one end of the lathe. The blank is then positioned between the tip of the drill and the other poppet. The cord is wrapped around the blank and as the latter revolves against the fixed drill point, the hollowing is produced. The requirement of a chuck rules out the use of such technique in antiquity since such an apparatus is a later invention. Finally the drill can be set in a frame to ensure accuracy and fitted with a transverse handle to apply

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Before the turning can proceed, however, the blank has to be mounted correctly and centred on the lathe. When an artefact has been drilled through from end to end, it can be easily mounted on a lathe for the turning of an outer surface coaxial with the inside perforation. The procedure is explained in fig. 4.47. The poppet marks on the plugs are used to centre the object on the lathe.

4.3.2.3 NEEDLECASES IN CONTEXT

The two complete needlecases i.e Carlisle P032 and Vindolanda P030 both contained needles when found. In London P029 the shank is filled with a metallic mass the nature of which has not been fully investigated; it could easily be a bunch of needles that have rusted together. There are no doubts therefore on the purpose of the case. It is on the other hand, more difficult to ascertain whose possession such an artefact would be. It has been suggested, in view of the prevalence of needlecases in military contexts, that the Roman army may have issued regulation housewives to soldiers so they could look after their uniforms (Allason Jones 1988, 220 and Caruana forthcoming a). Unfortunately, such a statement lacks supporting evidence. The practice of army housewives is very recent. Sewing equipment only became part of the infantry valise in 1882 (Chappell 1980, 28) and was issued to soldiers on a regular basis only in World War Two (Davis 1983, 32). In earlier times, when the neat appearance of the men was of importance, the equipment consisting of ‘a cloth brush and one hatter’s cocking needle’ for the whole squad, was issued to sergeants and corporals (Cuthberson 1768, 135ff), not to individual soldiers. The very character of the wooden needlecase with its sophisticated manufacturing technique also militates against mass production. The few known modern army housewives are very simple artefacts: they are normally made of cloth in the shape of a pouch (e.g. Army Museum, London, nos 9406-188 and 6012-43). The Roman army certainly required needles for specific military equipment. Armour, whether made of overlapping leather scales attached to a canvas support, or consisting of individual metal elements (squamae) stitched on leather, required needles (Waterer 1981, 46) and so did tent-making. It would be misleading though, to think of needles and needlecases only as ‘military’ artefacts. Needles were used extensively in civilian society for a large variety of purposes ranging from clothe making, to embroidery, cobbling and sail making. Doctors used needles to stitch wounds and keep bandages in place already in the 4th century BC (Hippocrates, In the Surgery 8). These artefacts came in a variety of materials from bone to copper alloy, to iron and in different sizes. Specimens barely 30mm long (Saglio 1873) are known while a massive copper alloy needle over 200mm in length has been found at Mons Porphyrites in Egypt (V. Maxfield pers. comm.). Containers especially designed for the more delicate and small artefacts have survived from pre-Roman times. A gold case in a shape of a mace and attached to a ring bracelet is known from Hellenistic deposits in the Crimea (Saglio ibid.). However, the most

Such procedure cannot, however, be used for the needlecases because they are not drilled through. As the drilling stops inside the artefact, there is nothing to indicate the position of the centre on the closed end. The centring on the lathe could be tried by eye but experimentally this did not prove a very satisfactory approach. The margin of error with such fine turning is very slight. The smallest discrepancy between the axis of the lathe and the axis of the perforation can result, when turning, in a fatal weakening of the walls. The only possible course of action is to find the centres at both ends of the blank at the very beginning of operations and drill straight and accurately through one of them to the required depth. The opening is then stopped with a turned plug and the object can be mounted on the lathe using the centre on the plug at one end and the centre on the blank at the other. If the drilling has been correctly executed, i.e. dead straight, the axis between the centres and the axis of the perforation will coincide. After turning, the inner surface (which is drilled) and outer surface (which is turned) will be coaxial. This procedure was successfully tested and is described in detail in the relevant section. The work on the lathe presents no particular problems. On the cover, the flange is cut, the base partly turned and the surface is smoothed. The body requires a bit more work. The shank has to be defined and reduced by turning; in the process, a variable number of beads from six to eight are cut. The shank is always thicker at the opened end in order to strengthen it and has always two or three beads grouped together in the area nearer to the lid. The lid itself is very plain. After the surface has been smoothed, the lid is undercut to fit the cover’s flange. As explained above, the recessed area is consistently left rough. The top of the lid is then partly turned. After the removal of the plugs, the needlecase is technically finished. The two parts can be tested for a good fit; it is possible at this point that in order to give the complete artefact a very smooth finish, it would be mounted as one item for combined turning (see page 81). Eventually both spindles are reduced to 6-8mm in diameter, and sawn off.

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common practice appears to have been the use of sections of shafts of hollow long bones. These produce very serviceable needlecases; the specimen from Egypt now in the Petrie Museum in London (UC 7721) and dated to the New Kingdom (15001000 BC) is a suitable example. In Roman times, rough and ready needlecases on the same principle were still used as testified by the item from Stockstadt on the German Limes. The 130mm long artefact was c 10mm in diameter and was found with a number of fine bone needles (129 to 186mm long) packed in it (Conrady et al. 1914, 125 no. 60). Alongside naturally occurring objects chosen out of expediency and requiring practically no labour input, upmarket needlecases were also designed and manufactured in Roman times both in metal and in turned bone and ivory; instances of the latter are known from 19th century excavations in London (Syer Cuming 1877, 226. Unfortunately the artefacts quoted by him cannot be traced). The two-piece boxwood needlecase belongs to that section of the market. The required input of highly skilled craftsmanship places it firmly beyond the reach of ordinary people. It is certainly not a cheaper wooden version of something normally manufactured in more expensive material. Indeed it appears, according to the available evidence, that nothing of such a complex design and execution was ever attempted again in wood or in any other medium. The four turned and drilled wooden needlecases belong to a very short chronological span (70s to early 2nd century). They are not documented at all in later Roman times or beyond. Needles though, remained in use and went on being housed in needlecases. Saxon, Viking and medieval contexts .

have shown a distinctive preference for hollow bone tubes derived from bird bones or sheep metatarsals, for metal cases made of folded over sheet metal and for leather containers. The only instances in wood come from the dockland area of medieval Bergen (Øye 1988, 109-111). The finds consist of a number of carved boxes with sliding lids and of a few items in turned boxwood 68 to 96mm in length and an internal diameter of 5 to 6mm. The latter do not match the complexity of the Roman boxwood cases and that also applies to modern machine made specimens such as the item now produced in the town of St. Claude situated in the boxwood rich French Jura (fig. 4.48). The conclusion, therefore, has to be that however thoughtfully and attractively designed, the Roman artefact was prevented by the very complexity of its execution from establishing itself firmly on the market. Such analysis is borne out by comparing manufacturing of combs, pyxides and needlecases. Bad quality combs could easily be produced and could find a market because they would still be serviceable and the vast majority of people needed a comb anyway. Pyxides may have been more complex to manufacture and there was less leeway for bad workmanship. Corners could, however, be cut in the manufacturing of the inside and so they were indeed. For these needlecases there were no short cuts. Even when the sequencing was clearly understood and the correct tools developed, artefacts of this design still required a high skilled input, possibly more than the market it was designed to serve was prepared to pay for.

Fig 4.48 A modern boxwood needlecase from St. Claude in eastern France - scale 20mm; (photo E. Francis).

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4.4 BENTWOOD BOXES Bentwood containers have a round or oval base and a wall made of a continuous sheet of wood with the grain running parallel to the base. Remains of containers of this kind with a Roman date are few and fragmentary and none of those recovered in a recognisable state can be strictly attributed to the domestic environment. On the other hand, the written sources mention bentwood containers of a specific domestic purpose i.e. capsae and scrinia curva. While capsae cannot be investigated in any great details since the term is very generic (it relates to the Latin capere meaning ‘to hold’, so there is no precise indication of size), there is more scope for attempting a reconstruction of scrinia curva. These containers were meant for papyrus rolls, the Roman equivalent of books. Papyrus rolls have a known size, so it is possible to investigate these artefacts and their manufacturing technique by bringing together comparative material, the iconography and the written evidence.

The height of Ovid’s container can be extrapolated from its content. Roman volumes consisted of a wooden cylinder (scapus) onto which papyrus sheets were rolled (no more than twenty according to Pliny, Nat. Hist. 13, 77). The length of the scapus was therefore determined by the width of the papyrus. According to Pliny (Nat. Hist. 13, 78-80) papyrus was available in various sizes from the very narrow shop paper (‘emporitica’ no more than 150mm wide), to the better quality ‘Augusta’ and ‘Liviana’ (325mm wide) and the exceptionally wide ‘macrocolla’, (450mm wide). The postulated inner height of the container is therefore in the region of 325mm (the very wide ‘macrocolla’ only became available in Claudius’ times, after Ovid’s death). Such measurement allows for the ornamental ends of the scapi known as cornua or umbilica to be fully visible over the rim.

4.4.1 THE ARTEFACT Scrinium (plural scrinia) is a generic term for a receptacle intended to hold personal possessions such as letters and books: it could be locked (Horace, Epistolae 1, 20, 1; fig. 4.49) and sealed (Valerius Maximus, Memorabilia 6, 5, 6) and must therefore have had a lid. The term itself is not very informative as to the shape or material of the artefact. The proposed reconstruction only applies to one class of scrinia, namely scrinia curva and is based on two texts, one by Pliny and one by Ovid. Pliny’s passage (Nat. Hist. 16, 229) in which he states that beech was the best material for scrinia curva and capsae, links this particular artefact to wood and bentwood techniques. Ovid’s text (Tristia 1, 1, 106) provides further details. It shows how the books were arranged: upright (as shown in fig. 4.49) and with their labels (tituli) in full view; it also gives an idea of capacity. In his poem Ovid addresses a papyrus roll containing his latest poetical offering which he is sending to Rome from his exile in Tomis by the Black Sea. He urges the roll to find its way to its house, specifically a bentwood scrinium, among the poet’s other works. Ovid’s count points to a box containing at least nineteen rolls: three for the Art of Love, fifteen for the Metamorphoses plus one, his latest offering.

Fig. 4.49 Bentwood scrinium of late Roman date, complete with lock. It contains the four Gospels and the four Books of the Prophets. Detail from a late antiquity ivory tablet ‘Christ and the Apostles’ now in Dijon, Musée des Beaux Arts inv. CAT 326;(© Musée des Beaux Arts Dijon).

4.4.2 THE TECHNIQUE The construction of bentwood containers is known from the Bronze Age or possibly before: it relies on the natural property of fine strips of unseasoned wood to bend without snapping. The few known containers of that period were either held together by wooden pegs or stitched (Earwood 1993, 42-45). Nowadays almost any thickness of wood can be bent,

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not just fine strips. This is achieved by applying heat. There are indications that the process was known in Roman times though Seneca’s remark ‘heat unbends curved beams’ (Epistolae Morales 50, 6) does not afford many details.

apparatus, like the one shown in figure 4.50, is one hour for every 25mm of thickness. For fine sheets of veneer it may be possible to dispense with application of heat altogether. According to Paulsen (1992, 92) laths from the sapwood of trees felled in the spring, when the sap is plentiful, and immersed in a fast flowing stream will become flexible enough to make a bentwood container. He explained the manufacture of the Oberflacht ash bentwood containers, which are smaller than scrinia curva, with this technique.

4.4.3 THE RAW MATERIAL Straight-grained wood with no knots is the best for the purpose. Modern operators suggest using ash, oak, walnut and yew (Abbott 1989, 117) with a preference for a radial rather than a tangential section to avoid distortion when drying. In antiquity, according to Pliny (Nat. Hist. 16, 229), beech was particularly recommended for scrinia: it actually was the only wood to be contemplated for the purpose. Pliny’s remark comes in the section of the Natural History where he is discussing veneers, so it is possible that he was praising this wood-species either for its appearance or for its flexibility, or because it could be processed into fine sheets.

Fig. 4.50 Apparatus for a simple steam box. The section shows how the heat is applied under a shallow metal pan full of water; as the steam rises it fills the box. For good results the box must be well jointed and insulated. The top view of the apparatus shows how the width of the steam box does not cover the surface of the drum completely. The semicircular slots on the sides are covered with wooden slabs that can be lifted to add water to the pan; (drawing by the author).

It is not clear how cutting fine sheets of wood was achieved in antiquity. Narrow lengths of wood can be easily cleft, but scrinia curva required continuous sheets over 300mm in width and almost 1 metre long. For specific wood-species like oak and ash, this can be done by cleaving provided suitable raw material with a straight grain and no knots is available (J. Keen, Ancient Technology Centre - Cranborne, Dorset-pers. comm.). For beech, Edlin’s suggestion that this wood should first be softened by steaming and then forced against a fixed knife is worth considering (Edlin 1974, 35). The veneer is then planed and smoothed with some form of abrasive like pumice stone.

Heat can be applied in a variety of ways. The item can be placed in a steam box, as is the practice today (fig. 4.50), or suspended over boiling water; it can be steeped in hot water or boiled, or covered in hot sand. With the application of heat the lignin that binds the fibres of the wood becomes flexible at about a temperature of 100 C. The wood fibres become loose and slide on each other. The item can be bent to the intended shape; upon cooling the lignin will set and the new shape will be retained. In modern practice the process is carried out with the assistance of a ‘former’ acting as a template of the intended shape.

4.4.4 THE ARCAHEOLOGICAL EVIDENCE As intimated above no recognisable scrinia curva have been recovered from a context of Roman date. Harlow L009 (fig. 4.51 and Morris forthcoming a), represents the only evidence for a Roman bentwood container in Britain. Its original function is not clear and Morris’s interpretation of the remains as a bucket is certainly open to question. The item consists of a broken base in oak of an estimated diameter of 298mm. The fragmentary wall

The use of steam on seasoned wood is considered the most efficient combination for a number of reasons. Steamed wood retains the heat longer than boiled wood and seasoned material, having lost all its free water and sap, will bend and compress more readily (Abbott 1989, 117). The estimated steaming time required for a simple

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Fig. 4.51 Harlow L009; fragments of the base and top view of the wall with iron clips - scale 1:4; (Morris forthcoming a). in ash is extant to a 76mm height. This was originally a single lath from a radial section. On the rim it had a number of iron clip mounts bent over and riveted through the wood; the wall was fixed to the base with wooden pegs. This makes it an unlikely bucket: in its present state it is too shallow, though of course it may originally have been taller. The metal clips hardly look like a suspension mechanism as postulated by Morris and it can be doubted that the structure could have taken the weight of its volume in water. It is more likely to have been a container for a different purpose. On the continent, on the other hand, artefacts of a shape and size comparable to scrinia curva, albeit intended for a different use, are known from Roman contexts. One comes from western Gaul and two from military establishments on the German Limes. None of them has a lid, while scrinia did have one: they have been interpreted as dry food measures (modii). The fragmentary modii from the German Limes (from the Saalburg and Oberaden, Baatz 1999, 66-67 and nos 1 and 2) are made of sheets of oak and ash respectively; the overlapping ends of the wall and the base are fixed with nails. No wood-species determination is unfortunately available for the modius from Rezé lès Nantes in western France, which is almost complete (fig. 4.52). The container was found under a ledge, six metres down into well B, a feature filled with 3rd and 4th century material (Aubin 1981, 360). The artefact

Fig. 4.52 The modius from Rezé lès Nantes - scale 1:4; (Service régional de l’archéologie des Pays de la Loire, pers. comm.). shows a variant form of fastening with nails driven through a wooden rod positioned on the overlapping ends of the wall; the nails are then bent back from the

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inside. The base is also fixed with nails. The dimensions of these three artefacts imply that the technique of cutting, bending and fixing sheets of wood some 5mm in thickness, at least 900mm long and c 300mm wide had been mastered in antiquity: that is as much as one required to manufacture a bentwood scrinium.

edge of the wall at the junction with the base required some protection and the base of a scrinium would be fashioned with that purpose in mind. Carlisle L010 is worth considering in this context. This artefact (fig. 4.53) consists of a disk in oak, c 500mm in diameter. A groove with a rectangular section 25mm deep and 17mm wide runs concentric to the edge and is 35mm from it. Surviving dowel holes (for a postulated total of ten) suggest that this artefact was intended as the base of a container.

Fig. 4.53 Carlisle L010, a possible base for a bentwood scrinium. The wall of the container fits into the deep groove shown in the section and is fixed by dowels inserted into regularly spaced perforations indicated by the arrows The enlarged view of the section shows a dowel found in situ and inserted at a slant. Scale 1:8; (*Caruana forthcoming a D91).

Fig. 4.54 A two-part carved keg from Morvern. The base is fastened with dowels to the body - scale 1:8; (*Earwood 1993, 108 fig. 73).

The overall appearance of scrinia curva however may have been slightly dissimilar to modii. All known bases of bentwood containers of Roman date, like those mentioned above and the group from Oberwinterthur (Fellmann 1991, H82 to H87), consist of plain sections of cleft wood shaped to a round or an oval. They were intended for straight-sided containers with the wall fixed with pegs or nails on the edge of the base. This construction is clear in the modii mentioned above and has been postulated for the material from Oberwinterthur (Fellmann 1991, 30).

The technique of pinned bases is well known for carved kegs (e. g. fig. 4.54 from Morvern in Scotland the content of which has been dated to the 2nd /3rd century AD, Earwood 1993, 109). However, Carlisle L010 which is elaborately fashioned and very probably turned makes an unlikely candidate for this purpose. It is suggested that Carlisle L010 was the base of a bentwood scrinium with the delicate edge of the fine veneer slotting into the groove and fixed with dowels. The width of the groove (17mm) could be a problem as no veneer would be that thick. A bentwood container (fig. 4.55) from grave 33 in Oberflacht in Germany, a site dated to the migration period, in which Paulsen postulated the presence of a flexible

The representations of scrinia curva on the other hand, suggest that this particular artefact rested on a base with a diameter slightly wider than the body (fig 4.49). It is possible that, if the item was made of a veneer finer than the material used in the modii, the

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rod on the inside to strengthen the veneer (Paulsen 1992, 92), may provide an answer. The groove in Carlisle L010 could be purposely wide to take a strengthening rod as well as the veneer itself. This would explain why the dowels were

driven in at an angle: they were meant to secure the lath to the base while at the same time missing the rod.

Fig. 4.55 Reconstructed lidded bentwood container from Oberflacht showing a style of bentwood containers with bases wider than the body and the use of a strengthening rod - scale c 1:5; (Paulsen 1992 fig. 79).

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5 HOUSEHOLD ITEMS

5.1 TABLEWARE The objects referred to under this heading are grouped by function and are, broadly speaking, related to food, its preparation and consumption. Since eating and drinking are, beyond sustenance, also social activities, the artefacts are assumed to be communal and belong to the shared, public space of the house. While some items may have been privately owned, like one’s favourite cup, they were used in a public setting. Moreover, most of them would have been the undivided property of the whole household and, as such, used in common by its various members. The objects have been split into two broad categories: tableware, which deals with food consumption, and kitchenware covering implements and functional devices connected with food preparation. See page 2 for conventions used in this section.

classical authors and yet it had an all-pervasive presence in everyday life. The content of the few texts touching on wooden tableware is, on the other hand, quite revealing. The satirist Lucilius’ (2nd century BC) one liner ‘scutam ligneolam in cerebro infixit’ (Satirae 5, 224) is the description of a fight at the dinner table, something civilised people did not indulge in. The inference is therefore that those engaged in the brawl were either slaves or soldiers (Krenkel 1970, 185). Equally Martial used a wooden vessel to give the finishing touch to the portrait of someone totally destitute. In one of his epigrams (Martial 12, 32) he dwells on Vacerra’s downfall; Vacerra is now a beggar and wanders carrying his broken bed and sundry possessions after being turned out of the family lodgings because he cannot afford the rent. He has a dogwood bowl which he carved himself. The choice of wood is meaningful: dogwood is not easy to carve. The species was prized, in antiquity, for its hardness and deemed suitable only for dowels (Cato, De Agricultura 18-9) and wedges (Pliny, Nat. Hist. 16, 206). Moreover, it could not take a good finish (Pliny ibid.). Martial was implying that Vacerra was so destitute that he actually carved the bowl himself out of totally unsuitable material.

Tableware covers a variety of artefacts such as cups, plates, bowls and serving implements used at the table, as well as vessels that may have been purely ornamental. In classical times such items were manufactured in a variety of raw materials ranging from metal to glass and pottery. Wood was equally suitable for the purpose. Wooden tableware was extensively used in medieval times (Morris 1984, 95) and also earlier; artefacts of this category from prehistoric sites include wooden handled cups, dishes and bowls. The Roman world, with a long established pottery tradition, viewed tableware from a different angle. Pottery was for everyone. In the description of his unsophisticated lifestyle, Horace mentions how he ate off Campanian ware, an inexpensive kind of crockery (Horace, Satirae 1, 6, 115). The upper classes dined out of metal or glass vessels while wood was the hallmark of the totally destitute and of the very frugal. This is at least, what transpires from the written texts; the archaeological record tells a slightly different story.

The other strand that can be followed in the literary sources is the usual nostalgia voiced by authors of imperial times for the good old days when the powerful displayed the traditional Roman virtues of piety and frugality. One nameless victorious general quoted by Pliny is one such instance. While he ignored the rich booty after the battle, he fell for a humble ‘guttum faginum’ a narrow-necked beechwood vessel used in sacrifices (Pliny, Nat. Hist. 16, 185). Another example can be found in Valerius Maximus’ Memorabilia in the section on ‘Abstinence and Continence’. When in 290 BC Manius Curius Dentatus, a paragon of frugality and bravery, set out to impress the Samnite envoys with a display of Roman virtues, he received them sitting, not reclining, on a rustic bench and eating off a wooden vessel (Valerius Maximus, Memorabilia 4, 3, 5). A similar longing for a bygone world is expressed in Vergil’s perception of country crafts (Eclogae 3, 36-

5.1.1 THE LITERARY EVIDENCE The literary evidence for wooden tableware is very scarce. That in itself cannot be construed as proof that it was little used. Pottery was equally shunned by

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44). His shepherds may indeed own beautiful beechwood drinking cups: that is in itself a perfectly acceptable proposition. Beech is good material for woodwork as Pliny stated very clearly (Nat. Hist. 16, 185). Vergil’s view of these ‘pocula fagina’, however, is loaded with meaning. His message is that a humble, local material such as beech in the hands of country folks could be transformed into a dazzling display of technical virtuosity. With their vines and ivy branches framing two figures, these vessels better anything available, in exotic materials, to the very wealthy in Rome. Beech vessels certainly had a place in the collective imagination of the Roman upper classes. They were suitable for sacrifices and for the Gods themselves. Ovid’s description of Philemone and Bauci’s humble abode, soon to receive a divine visitation, included silver craters side by side with wax coated beechwood drinking cups (Ovid, Metamorphoses 8, 670).

British Black Burnished ware, the maximum capacity is one and a half litre (Gillam 1957, form 306) which would not fit through a normal oven opening. It is therefore very likely that the staple food of the average Roman, i.e. the puls, a mix of crushed pulses and fresh vegetables with or without meat and cooked ‘until ready’, would be processed in an oven in individual portions using pots half the size. At this point, the presence of wooden crockery becomes a moot point because most people would eat off the pot anyway. Finally, when it comes to large outputs, nothing can beat a well-established pottery industry. On the ground of the experimental firing of a kiln based on a Romano-British design, Mayes concluded that one week’s work of a potter plus one assistant could prepare and fire 180 pots, a figure reduced to 103 after wastage (Mayes 1961). A later attempt involving 205 green items concluded that the wastage ratio could be lowered, with practice, to as little as 10% (Mayes 1962). This is a figure no classical woodworker could match, certainly not with a strap or a bow lathe. In medieval times, on the other hand, the output of a pole lathe worker has been estimated at 16-17 bowls a day, the equivalent of 4000 a year (Morris 1984, 248). In the absence of a buoyant pottery industry, such an output can create the conditions whereby a certain amount of domestic storage and eating vessels would be manufactured in wood.

5.1.2 THE ARCAHEOLOGICAL EVIDENCE The largest known corpus of wooden vessels of Roman date comes from Britain and this is certainly due to favourable preservation conditions. The area may be remote from Rome, where most of the literary references discussed above originated, both societies, however, developed the same reliance on the use of pottery for their meals. In Britain the conquest found a society in which the production of pottery had already developed with professional craftsmen and established trade links with the continent (Cunliffe 1991, 462). The Roman military presence stimulated the economy and created a market the demands of which were soon met by increased local production completed with growing imports, and the establishment of an impressive distribution network. This analysis holds for the whole of Roman Britain including Scotland (Breeze 1986). The slim evidence for the use of wooden table artefacts must be viewed against this background and against some practical considerations. Apart from roasting, cooking was done in Roman times in pottery or metal vessels on an open fire or in an oven. The army on the move used metal vessels but switched to pottery when it became stationary. Ovens, built next to dwellings, were less of a fire hazard than a hearth in the home and were possibly preferred both by the military and by civilians; they are certainly well represented in forts along the intervallum road. The size of an oven opening and general considerations about the safe handling of full, hot, cooking pots would determine what size vessels would normally be used. For instance, for Romano-

The 60 items in the corpus, grouped in this section under the heading ‘tableware’ (T001 to T060), do not constitute a homogeneous body of evidence. The quality of the workmanship is extremely variable ranging from very crude carving to extremely sophisticated turning. All these items are containers but they were destined to a variety of functions, which included drinking and serving, and to merely ornamental purposes as their shapes and capacity suggest. Individual drinking cups are defined by their size, c 100mm in diameter, and general shape. 5.1.2.1 DRINKING VESSELS

Fig 5.1 London T008 a boxwood drinking cup - scale 1:2; (drawing by the author).

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Fig. 5.2 The variety of Roman wooden drinking vessels. Above - London T007; middle left London T042 a cup with a metal overlay; middle right Alchester T060; below left London T005;below right Cramond T041 - scale 1:2; (drawing by the author). In the sample one style becomes immediately obvious: it is the hemispherical cup with the characteristic inverted rim decorated with two grooves (fig. 5.1). Cups of this design are found in London (T008), Carlisle (T020), York (T054) and Vindolanda (T014). They are all made of turned boxwood with the grain parallel to the rim from a billet sawn in half. They are therefore rather wide and shallow. The finds, covering a period from the beginning of the 2nd century to the middle of the 4th century, do not represent a British style. The prototype can be traced on the continent in Roman military establishments of an earlier date namely Velsen 1 in Germania Inferior (Bosman 1997 fig. 6. 9. 1), and at Vindonissa in Germania Superior. In the latter site the type is attested in the Schutthügel as well as in the earlier Keltengraben deposits where it is associated with pottery dated by Ettlinger to the very first decade of the 1st century AD (Ettlinger 1973, 34).

implement), show that the style was also present in the civilian environment. The design of this cup and of the serving spoons sharing some of its characteristics (see below), cannot be traced further back than Vindonissa. It may have been developed there, alternatively it may have come through from Italy with the army. The remaining turned drinking cups have a more individual design and may well have been manufactured to order (fig 5.2); most come from London, possibly not a coincidence. In this group London T005, dated no later than the 3rd century, may well be in boxwood but that is where the similarity with the hemispherical cups ends. The material has been treated in a completely different way. The artefact, found in a well in Queen St. has a foot, a beaded rim and a heavy base to give it stability. It was turned with the grain perpendicular to the rim; after the core was reduced to a diameter of 7mm it was removed with a sharp knife. Both design and technique of this artefact are very reminiscent of the much earlier goblet from La Tène (no. 1117) discussed on page 127. The slightly later London

Finds from Marseille (Place Jules Verne excavations uncatalogued) and from marine deposits in the nearby Gulf of Fos now in the Museum at Istres (Leffy 1990, 30 no. 42 bis incorrectly described as a serving

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T007 is equally turned but in ash, while London T042 is a rare example of woodwork and metalwork combined.

631), are also far too elaborate to be classed as utilitarian objects. The German scholar’s analysis, which concludes that these plates were evidence of the mass production of wooden crockery in Roman times with a view to meeting the needs of the lower strata of society, cannot be sustained. According to him (Rieth ibid.) if the less well off could not afford sigillata, they would settle for its imitation in wood. A close examination of the artefacts, now in store at Naples Archaeological Museum, has shown that such statement is misleading. For a start, the resemblance of the plates to sigillata as postulated by Rieth (Rieth 1940b, 631) does not survive close scrutiny; they do not share its distinctive foot-ring and no other salient characteristics. Secondly, the quality of the workmanship rules out any thoughts of mass production and inexpensive alternative for the lower classes. Even accounting for some shrinkage over the centuries, these plates are extremely fine, the exact opposite of a utilitarian artefact. Such fineness is hard to achieve on the lathe and combined with the flatness of the profile betrays a very expert hand. When it comes to turning, a gently curving shape is easier to work than a flat surface.

London T042 was presented by Augustus Franks to the British Museum in 1865 having been found in the City ‘deep in Ledbury under Throgmorton’; it is now exhibited there. The vessel is in boxwood possibly a burr. It is completely turned with a slightly recessed foot-ring. Both core and spindle have been turned to a diameter of c 12mm and removed with a sharp blade. Shanks of a number of fine rivets, present both on the inside and outside, suggest that the rim was originally covered by a sheet of metal at least 23mm wide on the outside and c 10mm on the inside. Alchester T060, an artefact with a very early date (40s to 60s), is also a unique item. There are no Roman wooden vessels with so pronounced a foot. The artefact also bears evidence of an unusual manufacturing procedure. The underside of the foot has not been turned at all while, normally, this area would be worked on the lathe to ensure that the artefact sits straight. At the end of operations, the redundant wood underneath the foot was sawn off leaving unequivocal saw marks. The discussion on drinking cups would not be complete without mentioning a handled cup from Cramond fort (T041 fig. 5.2). It was found in a well and it is dated to the Severan period. The artefact, possibly out of an elm or walnut burr, was carved. Chisel marks are still apparent on the inside base; the rest of the body has been smoothed with some form of abrasive and the handle shaped with a sharp blade. The artefact is evidence of the long survival of local pre-Roman traditions. (fig. 5.3) The archaeological evidence for the use of wooden plates as tableware is very scarce. There are only three instances of plates in the sample from Britain (London T039, in yew, works much better as a lid): two, T018 and T019, are from Carlisle and one, T033, comes from Dalton Parlours. The raw material of these artefacts, which is oak and alder, and their general character are certainly consistent with some form of utilitarian use. Of the three, Carlisle T018 is the only one that is undoubtedly turned and with some care. The other two are cruder in their manufacture and were probably carved. Evidence for utilitarian plates on the continent is very scarce. The turned maple item with a foot-ring, from the Fortuna Maris wreck (Desantis 1990, 252 no. 212) is certainly not one of them and the three instances from Herculaneum (fig. 5.4), first published by Rieth in 1940 (Rieth 1940a, 100 and Rieth 1940b, 5.1.2.2 PLATES

Fig. 5.3 Plates. From the top: Carlisle T0 18 - scale 1:4; (drawing by the author). Dalton Parlours T033 scale 1:4; (*Morris 1990, 225 no. 61) and a specimen from Italy found in the Fortuna Maris wreck - scale 1:4; (*Desantis 1990 plate 64 no.212).

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Fig. 5.4 Plates from Herculaneum. Naples Archaeological Museum in Naples uncatalogued - scale 1:2; (drawing by the author) None of the plates shows any scars resulting from the removal of core or spindle attachments: these were carefully obliterated. From a technical point of view, the turning of such profiles between two points begs the use of some form of mandrel (see below).

T035 (fig. 5.5) and T036. Others are more accomplished and bear evidence that they were made on the spot. Vindolanda T013 (fig. 5.6) is dated to the 90s. It is a vessel with a diameter of c 160mm, a height of 74mm and an uneven wall thickness. The grain of the wood runs parallel to the rim; the blank was a billet split in half with the base towards the sapwood. The outside may be finished but the inside is not. The inner base with the toolmarks of a 6mm wide chisel is very rough. The inside wall is unfinished; it was in the process of being worked with vertical grooves some 7-8mm wide. The process was abandoned half way through for no apparent reason. It can be seen presumably complete on Carlisle T040, an oak vessel which is roughly contemporary (fig. 5.6 left). Outside Britain, the maple bowl from the Valkenburg (van Dierendonk et al.1993, 182-3 no. 44) is a close parallel for the shape of the container and the style of finish.

5.1.2.3 BOWLS

Vessels that are too large or too shallow to qualify as drinking cups go under this general heading: they are a very motley assemblage. A number of trends can be tentatively identified.

Evidence that woodwork was practised at Vindolanda is also tentatively supported by Vindolanda T012 a turned bowl/cup in ash possibly unfinished (see below); there are however no high quality finds from the site. In nearby Carlisle, on the other hand, the turned material is more abundant and at least in one instance it may have been locally produced. Carlisle T027 (fig. 5.7 top) is an oak bowl with an inverted rim from a pit in the Lanes and is dated to the 2nd century. The design has been linked (Padley forthcoming b) to pottery forms from the nearby Brampton kilns which were active in the 1st /2nd century (Hird 1977, 48 nos 366ff). It is very unfortunate that the piece cannot now be traced and was therefore not available for inspection to this author.

Fig. 5.5 Birdoswald T035 a carved bowl - scale 1:3; (*Summerfield 1997, 290 no. 123). Carved vessels are only present in the very early days in the south of Britain (Maidstone T049 and the blanks from Scole-Dickleburgh T050 and T051 for the eastern part of the country, and Exeter T017 with a slightly later date, for the west). They provide evidence of the occasional persistence of pre-Roman traditions. In the north, carved vessels are more numerous and cover a more extended chronological span. This is hardly a coincidence given that Iron Age traditions are expressed in the area also in the manufacturing of drinking cups, see for example Cramond T041, and of carved boxes (see page 60). Some carved vessels from the north of Britain are very crude artefacts e.g Tarraby T038. Birdoswald

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Fig. 5.6 Left: Carlisle T040 –scale 1:3 (*Caruana forthcoming a D64) Right: Vindolanda T013 - scale 1:3; (drawing by the author).

Fig. 5.7 Above: Carlisle T027 - scale 1:3; (*Padley forthcoming b, K16). Below: the pottery from the Brampton kilns - scale 1:4; (*Hird 1977, nos 366-370).

Fig. 5.8 Left: vessel from Avenches. Roman Museum, Avenches no. 378/3328 – scale 1:2; (drawing by the author). Right: Carlisle T029 - scale 1:2; (*Padley forthcoming b K18).

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Fig 5.9 York T046 - scale 1; (drawing by the author).

Fig. 5.10 Left: Dalton Parlours T032 - scale 1:3; (*Morris 1990, 225 no.60). Right: Carlisle T025 - scale 1:3; (drawing by the author)

Fig. 5.11 Left: York T045. Right: London T002. Scale 1:3; (drawing by the author). Turned inverted rims are rare among Roman wooden material but not unknown of: another instance from the same location, Carlisle T029, with a 3rd century date (fig. 5.8) has a close parallel in Avenches dated to the end 2nd / early 3rd century. Whatever the provenance of these artefacts they are certainly all ornamental with little practical use. The other bowls (a fair contingent comes from London where all of them are turned) confirm this trend. Notable instances are Fishbourne T010 with its thin walls finer than 2mm at the rim and the diminutive York T046 (fig. 5.9). The overall impression from the sample is one of no standardised approach. Attempts have been made at linking the shapes of turned vessels to pottery forms. A vessel from Rainau-Buch (mid 3rd century) has been compared by Greiner to Drag. 37 (Greiner 1999 no. [611]-50). This can be a misleading approach since a turned bowl’s shape is tied up quite closely with the blank it was worked from. Moreover, it appears that the

inspiration for more freely planned profiles was sought further afield. Blanks and shapes. Wooden vessels are more much constrained in their shapes than pottery ones. The wood conversion method used to prepare the blank plays a crucial role in the final profile of the vessel. There are two basic possibilities in the manufacture of a blank: either the grain of the wood runs perpendicular to the rim of the intended vessel (fig. 5.10) or is parallel to it (fig. 5.11). In the first case, the billet is a roundel as wide as the tree trunk and as high as required. This natural form can be manufactured into a vessel that is rather deep (e.g. Dalton Parlours T032) with straight sides and a comparatively broad base (e.g. Carlisle T025, Rothwell colliery T052 and T053 - fig. 5.21; Glastonbury X13 - fig. 6.2).

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Fig. 5.12 Flanged vessels. From the top: Nida-Heddernheim (according to Hampel) - scale 1:2; (*Hampel 1997, 129 fig. 104); London T047 –scale 1:2; (drawing by the author); the Saalburg; - scale 1:2; (*Baatz 1999, 72 fig. 9). If, on the other hand, the vessel is derived from a blank with the grain of the wood parallel to the rim the final shape is necessarily different. The procedure involves cleaving the billet in half, positioning the base in the sapwood, while the rim faces the centre of the tree. (In this respect, the two blanks from ScoleDickleburgh T050 and T051 and dated to the late Iron Age and early Roman period are atypical: the line of

the centre of the tree does not run along the rim but along the projections below the rim and the resulting shape is therefore quite tall). In this type of conversion, the vessel is necessarily wide at the rim, as wide as the diameter of the original billet and less than half in height. The base is by necessity narrow. The open profile is therefore not a choice: it is a function of the shape of the blank (e.g. York T045

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and London T002 fig. 5.11). It may therefore be pointless to look for pottery parallels.

Fig .5.13 (?) Lid from Nida-Heddernheim - scale 1:2; (drawing by the author). . Special shapes. A handful of artefacts show that occasionally shapes were more freely planned. In one case, the reference to pottery and to metal is quite clear. London T047, a 2nd century vessel with a footring and a wide and thick rim band, existed in metal (e.g. Mutz 1972 no. 497), in contemporary fine (Drag. 81) and coarse pottery (terra nigra - TuffreauLibre 1980, fig. 15 nos 9 and 10). It would be misleading, though, to look only in the direction of central and northern Gaul where this pottery was produced. London T047’s closest connections are with the Rhineland where two comparanda in wood are known (fig. 5.12). One originates from well 19 outside the fort at the Saalburg on the German Limes (Baatz 1999, no. 4). The other one also comes from a civilian setting namely Nida-Heddernheim, the civitas by Frankfurt a.M. (Hampel 1997, 129). The item in maple is now very damaged and fragmentary and the profile published by Hampel could not be confirmed. It seemed to this author that the vessel could have a more open shape; on the other hand its salient characteristic, i.e. the prominent flange, is unequivocal. The high level of turning workmanship shown in the artefact is further confirmed by another find from the same site (fig. 5.13) the technical implications of which are far from being fully understood. A more exciting discovery though, is that glassworkers and woodworkers copied each other’s forms. This appears certainly to be the case for Fishbourne T010 (fig. 5.14). The artefact, made out

of a boxwood burr, is far too delicate and small to serve any useful purpose. It must have looked quite stunning when new and is a suitable artefact for a very high-status building such as Fishbourne palace. Its profile, size and fineness are very reminiscent of a glass artefact from the same site and belonging to the category of shallow turbular rimmed bowls (Price and Cottam 1998, 77). The dates also match: the wooden version is dated to the 50s, the glass equivalent ranges in date from 43 to 60/65 AD. The larger and deeper version of this glass shape, i.e. the deep tubular rimmed bowl (Price and Cottam 1998, 78), may equally have provided the inspiration for London T006, an ash artefact dated to no later than AD 150 (fig. 5.15). It appears therefore that some wooden bowls had their place in the household in order to be seen and appreciated purely on appearance and serving no practical purpose. The hypothesis is also supported by the rare instances of metal decorated vessels. Metal decorated vessels. The practice of enhancing the appearance of wooden vessels with copper alloy fittings is very old and is first attested in western Europe in Etruria in a 7th century BC context. In the ‘Warrior’s grave’ at Monterozzi, in the vicinity of Tarquinia, a couple of wooden artefacts, namely a plate with a foot-ring and a ‘cup’, were found in 1869. Both artefacts had been decorated with copper alloy studs with short shanks and broad heads (Hencken 1968, 201, fig. 189 f and l) which were incidentally instrumental to the preservation of the items. Instances from the Roman world are few: the only one from Britain, London T042 has already been discussed above. From the Rhineland two maple vessels (fig. 5.16) are particularly noteworthy. The first one with an early 1st century date is from Velsen 1 (van Rijn 1995 no. 352); it has a zig-zag pattern made with a copper alloy strip inlaid in the rim. The second one comes from grave no. 2700 at Krefeld Gellep dated to mid 4th century (Pirling 1979, 54); the vessel has copper alloy sheeting overlays fixed onto the base and along the rim with fine rivets. Other possible instances, in which the reconstruction is more problematic, include the footed cup with copper alloy overlay from the vicus of Klosterneuburg near Vienna, (Bauer 1998) and the metal finds mentioned by Jacobi in his very early excavations at the Saalburg (Baatz 1999, 73). 5.1.2.4 SERVING IMPLEMENTS

One category of serving implements is included in the tableware because it is so similar to the

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Fig. 5.14 Right: Fishbourne T010 (drawing by the author) a wooden vessel with its parallel in glass (Ising form 45; Price and Cottam 1998, 77 fig. 24) for which evidence was found in the same site - scale 1:3.

Fig. 5.15 Right: London T006 (drawing by the author) with its possible parallel in glass (Price and Cottam 1998, 79 fig.25b) - scale 1:3.

Fig. 5.16 Wooden bowls enhanced with metalwork. Left: overlay - Krefeld Gellep (Pirling 1979, plate 59 1a-c). Right: inlay - Velsen 1 (drawing by the author). Scale 1:2.

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Fig . 5.17 London T055 a boxwood ladle - scale 1:2; (drawing by the author). hemispherical cups that it is arguable that they were made by the same craftsmen and were, at least, intended to be seen together. They may have been a set: the drinking cup and its ladle, alternatively just serving spoons. Like the cups, this artefact is made of boxwood and has a slightly inverted, flat rim with two grooves (fig. 5.17). A shaped handle runs on the side of the bowl; it swells at the end, which is perforated, indicating that the artefact was suspended when not in use. Because the blank is a log sawn in half, the bowl is shallow and has a capacity comparable to or slightly less than the cups. In Britain, this design is only known from finds in London with dates ranging from the end 1st century to the 3/4th century (T055-T059). This spatial concentration contrasts with the wider spread of the hemispherical cups which are found also in other sites with heavy Roman influence (Carlisle, Vindolanda and York). The earliest instances of this design come from Vindonissa from both the Schutthügel and the Keltengraben deposits (1st century AD) just like the hemispherical cups do. There are at least six such implements from the site: only half are in boxwood, the balance is in maple and pomoideae. Moreover, the assemblage includes one completely carved boxwood item. This suggests some experimenting with a design that was in the process of being finalised.

5.1.3 TECHNICAL ANALYSIS From the technical point of view, the sample of Roman tableware from Roman Britain shows a very varied approach to the craft of woodworking. While some items are completely carved, others are entirely turned and a small number show a combination of the two techniques. Such pragmatic approach is typical of the times when new ideas were being experimented with and the art of hollow turning was not fully mastered. It contrasts with later, medieval practices; according to Morris (1984, 159) the bulk of medieval vessels is completely turned. There is also evidence for the use for sophisticated techniques such as the pressure mandrel and for the transfer of technology between different branches of woodwork. The three strands of evidence are examined below. 5.1.3.1 THE PRESSURE MANDREL

The use of the pressure mandrel has already been postulated for the manufacturing of some types of pyxis lids (page 80). The device consists of a cylinder with perfectly flat ends. One end is centred on the finished surface of the artefact, which also needs to be completely flat, while the other is fixed to the poppet on the lathe (fig. 5.18). The purpose of the device is to provide the operator with a suitable surface around which the lathe strap can be wrapped when it is not possible to do so on the artefact itself. Pressure mandrels therefore only work on artefacts with at least one flat surface, they operate by friction and leave practically no trace. One problem is of course the centring of the device. This can be done by eye or, better still, by turning grooves, of the same diameter as the mandrel, on the surface onto which the mandrel will be applied. Two of the Herculaneum plates have grooves consistent with such purpose and so has Fishbourne T010. The use of pressure mandrels has also been advocated for the turning of bone counters (Picod 2000). According to Picod’s experimental work, there are two systems to ensure,

From there the style moved eventually to Britain and towards the Mediterranean. The sample from London is homogeneous: all boxwood, all manufactured with the same procedure. The earliest instance, i.e. London T056, an artefact with a terminus ante quem in the early 2nd century is very probably an import (see page 141). In southern Gaul both ladles and cups are found in Marseille (Place Jules Verne excavations) and in the Gulf of Fos deposits. The design eventually spread to the east. A specimen loosely dated from the 1st to the 5th century AD from Oxyrhinchus, can be seen on display in the British Museum (BM GR 1905,10-21.14).

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Fig. 5.18 The use of the pressure mandrel. The strap is first wrapped around the blank. After it has been hollowed the core is removed. The strap is then wrapped around the pressure mandrel and the turning of the vessel is completed; (drawing by the author). that the mandrel has a good grip and does not slip. One entails using wood with a rather coarse structure in his case it was ash, and soak it in water prior to use to enhance friction, otherwise the mandrel can be firmly attached with a fine spread of glue.

carving and turning was, on the other hand, part of the design in the manufacture of the serving implements mentioned above. These were always made with the same technique (fig. 5.20). The blank is a piece of boxwood c 300mm long and as wide as the diameter of the bowl.

5.1.3.2 TURNED AND CARVED ITEMS

While some workshops were so advanced, others were still struggling with the craft of hollow turning. It is obviously easier on a lathe to shape the outside of a vessel than to hollow it. The answer to that is very simple: the inside of a vessel can be carved out. The approach is mentioned by Vergil (‘lime and boxwood are good for turning on the outside and they are then hollowed inside with the sharp steel’, (Virgil, Georgicae 2, 449) and was still practised in 19th century eastern Europe (Viires 1969, 199). A couple of artefacts from Vindolanda have been identified as possible evidence of the practice. Vindolanda T016 is a 190mm diameter vessel made from a billet split in half. The inside is certainly carved as the toolmarks show; the outside with a smooth surface and a 60mm diameter foot on the other hand, suggests turning. Equally Vindolanda T015, a boxwood cup from the same site, has a plain, squared rim with no grooves. While the spindle scar is apparent on the outside, the uneven thickness of the wall of the vessel may be due to the hollowing of the inside by carving. The practice is obviously difficult to identify with any certainty. Vindolanda T012 (fig. 5.19) may give an idea of what was going on. The shallow, ash vessel looks unfinished. While both inner and outer surfaces appear to have been turned, it is likely that the capacity of the vessel was intended to be increased by carving. The end result would be not dissimilar from the artefacts discussed above. The combination of

Fig. 5.19 Vindolanda T012 an unfinished vessel scale 1:2; (drawing by the author). It is mounted on a lathe for the hollowing of the bowl, the manufacture of the rim, with the characteristic double grooves, and the turning of the outside area immediately below the rim and before the handle. The shape of the blank which is per force rather narrow being derived from a billet sawn in half, begs the use of a mandrel around which to wrap the strap. The use of mandrels fixed with spikes has left incontrovertible evidence on the underside of York P033 (page 72) and on a much earlier artefact namely the lid of an Etruscan cista from Praeneste with a 4th to 2nd century BC date (page 80). In the case of the ladles, an obvious place for fixing a mandrel would have been on the outside. This surface is always shaped by carving, so any tell tale signs would have been obliterated.

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Fig. 5.20 The manufacture of part-turned/ part-carved serving implements. A boxwood cylinder is first cleft in half and hewn to a rough shape. This is then mounted on the lathe for the hollowing and turning of the rim; The strap is wrapped around a separate mandrel fixed with spikes on the outer surface of the implement The artefact is completed by carving the outer surface and removing traces of the mandrel and by shaping the handle; (drawing by the author). 5.1.3.3 TECHNOLOGICAL TRANSFER

Fig. 5.21 Above: the goblet from Avenches. Roman Museum, Avenches no. 90/07809-081 F. Below: Rothwell colliery T053 (left); Rothwell colliery T052 (right). Scale 1:2; (drawing by the author). Finally, the corpus of the vessels bears evidence for transfer of know-how, for contacts between craftsmen and the spreading of new technical solutions.

Medieval turned vessels were normally turned in the face i.e. with the grain of the wood parallel to the rim and with the assistance of a mandrel. The advantage with this procedure is that a sharp blow of the mallet

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can remove the core when the turning is completed. The wood breaks naturally along its grain and leaves no unsightly scar. This is not the case for vessels turned in the spindle (the matter has already been discussed for pyxides at page 76). There is firm evidence that the solution arrived at for pyxides, i.e. the procedure resulting in an inner base with a Vshaped profile, was applied to vessels (fig 5.21). The distribution of this technique both for pyxides and bowls shows it was a western European phenomenon. Carlisle T029 (fig. 5.8) and Rothwell colliery T052 and T053 are three instances from Britain. From the continent come three goblets: one from the town of Avenches in Germania Superior (fig. 5.21) and a couple from a ritual shaft at Montmaurin, the villa in south-western Gaul (nos 6467 and 6506; Fouét 1958, 170 and fig. 34). All these finds postdate the introduction of the technique for pyxides. The earliest is the goblet from Avenches (end 2nd/beginning 3rd century, D. Castella pers. comm.), followed by Carlisle T029 in the late 3rd century, while the balance is firmly into the 4th century. Wooden material of such late date is rare because of preservation problems. The evidence for the widespread distribution of this technique is therefore that much more remarkable. It is impossible to know if the technique ever moved south of the Alps, since there are no finds of domestic wooden vessels from in Italy beyond the 1st century AD. The style was short-lived probably because it resulted in a vessel with an uneven inner base in which small particles of matter could be trapped. There are no traces of this technique in medieval woodwork.

5.1.4 THE RAW MATERIAL Considerations on the choice of wood touch both upon the wood-species itself and the selection of specific elements of the tree, namely burrs. The two are dealt with in turn. 5.1.4.1 WOOD-SPECIES

Boxwood is well represented in the sample from Britain. This shows a clear choice as the material is linked to specific forms and functions (drinking cups and serving implements). The other species include yew, ash, willow, alder, maple, pomoideae and oak. While some species e.g. yew and pomoideae were used for turning only, others have been employed for both carving and turning. It is difficult, on a comparatively small sample, to draw any firm conclusions and to assess how informed the choice of wood was. The scarce material from western continental Europe is equally not very revealing.

There again boxwood is well represented as are cups and ladles; additional species include maple, alder and beech. Contemporary sites outside the Roman area in which large vessels were either carved (Paddepoel, van Es 1968, 240; Wijster, van Es 1967,133) or turned (Feddersen Wierde, KörberGrohne 1967, 29) appear to show a consistent preference for alder and maple. 5.1.4.2 BURRS

A burr is an abnormal growth induced on a tree by a variety of traumas such as grazing by large mammals or the action of fungi, bacteria and frost. It can also be artificially induced by burning part of the tree (Jane 1956, 256). The tree will react to the injury by growing a tissue with a distinctive loose structure. The wound wood is characterised by vortex-like masses of fibres and vessels and is made of shorter and thinner walled elements. The overall inner structure of a burr with fewer fibres and more parenchyma is less solid than ordinary wood (Butler 1949, 188). Burrs preferably develop at the base of the trunk; they occur in a variety of species in box, oak, pomoideae, maple, ash and walnut for example. While the seasoning of large items may be at times problematical (Jane 1956, 256), their peculiar structure makes them easier to work both in carving and on the lathe where they can achieve great fineness. Such advantage was already recognised in prehistory when burrs may have been selected for convenience as well as on aesthetic grounds. An early example (a carved bowl in Tabor oak) is known from the cave of the Warrior, a 4th millennium BC burial in the Judean desert near Jericho (Sitry 1998). In the west the site of Fiavé in northern Italy dated to the early to middle Bronze Age, has produced an impressive number of cups and ladles carved out of maple, silver fir and hazel burrs (Perini 1987, 175ff). In migration and early medieval times the use of burrs is attested for high-status carved drinking vessels at Sutton Hoo (Bruce-Mitford 1983, 363) and at Oberflacht (e.g. grave 40, Schiek 1992, 40 and plate 35c). In Roman times burrs were esteemed for their appearance; they were used in veneering and were considered the most valuable part in the citron and the maple trees (Pliny, Nat. Hist. 16, 68 and 16, 184). They were also appreciated for turning. Fishbourne T010 could be worked so fine and successfully mimic its glass counterpart only if manufactured out of a burr. The passing reference to ‘bruscas‘, maple wood burrs, in an inventory of dispatched goods listed in a Vindolanda tablet (Tab. Vindol. II 309.10, Bowman and Thomas 1994, 286), is tantalising and may suggest a trade in the raw material.

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5.2 KITCHENWARE

Fig. 5.22 The mortarium from the Fortuna Maris wreck - scale 1:2; (Desantis 1990, 254 no. 211). This category includes a variety of artefacts which are all related to food preparation. The use of wooden implements for stirring, mixing, pounding, scooping and of wooden vessels for storing is well attested in pre-Roman contexts. In Roman Europe the evidence shows that, while crudely carved spatulae and spoons were still being manufactured (e.g. T061 to T075 for Britain and similar crude shapes in Vindonissa), new, more specific styles were developed. The design of these new artefacts does suggest, beyond a quest for expediency and efficiency, a desire to put something attractive and special in the kitchen. Whether this reflects a hightened status of the art of cooking is hard to tell. Perhaps one should not forget that the oldest known cookery book i.e. Apicius’ ‘de re coquinaria’ comes from 1st century AD Rome.

mortaria. The type is only known from the carved maple vessel complete with handles and spout (fig. 5.22) found on the Fortuna Maris wreck and dated to the 1st century BC (Desantis 1990, 252 no. 211). The section deals first with troughs and then with spatulae and scoops.

5.2.1 TROUGHS Crudely carved rectangular vessels generally referred to as troughs are known, in the British Isles, from early prehistory (Earwood 1993, 50). The persistence of the design in Roman times however does not mean that the function remained the same. Prehistoric troughs were often quite large and have been associated with cooking procedures (Earwood ibid.). The troughs of Roman date are all

The sample from Britain contains most of these new items except, unfortunately, no instances of wooden

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portable with a maximum size in the region of 700mm in length (e.g. Vindolanda T077, fig. 5.23). They are therefore not suitable for cooking and one can only speculate about their purposes. One possible suggestion comes from the ethnographic record. This shows that troughs played an important part in bread making in medieval and post-medieval central Europe from the Pyrenees to the Urals. The process involved mixing the dough in the trough and leaving it there to rise; the final shaping and proving of the bread loaves was done in wooden bowls of appropriate sizes (Kisbán 1988, 51). The same author also quotes a Hungarian household inventory dated 1635 which included two large troughs and 12 wooden bowls.

Fig. 5.23 Vindolanda T077 - scale 1:10; (drawing by the author).

The distribution of troughs also shows a change of pattern. While prehistoric troughs are found in the north of Britain with the exception of the one from Glastonbury (Earwood 1993, 50), troughs of Roman date come from non native sites both in the north (Carlisle T076 and T078 and Vindolanda T077) and in the south (London T079).

5.2.2 IMPLEMENTS 5.2.2.1 SCOOPS

Scoops are represented by four items (T080 to T083), three of which are not very distinctive in their design. Since they have not been, so far, closely paralled on the continent and they are not particularly challenging in their workmanship, they may be safely put under the general umbrella of ‘local tradition’. Comparanda for these items are not available from contemporary native sites but are known from native assemblages of a later date (Earwood 1993, 117 and fig. 80). London T080 (Flavian or earlier) and Carlisle T081 (early 2nd century) (fig. 5.24) are two round, handled scoops. The former with a bowl 300mm in diameter and a handle fixed with iron rivets, would indeed be exceptional were it turned as Wilmott (1982, 49) maintains. It would be the largest known turned bowl of Roman date in the whole of the western Empire. A close examination of the artefact, however, has shown that it is carved which is much more in keeping with its purpose and makes it a likely comparandum for Carlisle T081 of a slightly later date. Carlisle T082 (fig. 5.25) a square shaped scoop with a handle, a design also known from Lincoln (Padley forthcoming b), also belongs to this category. .

Fig. 5.24 Above: London T080 - scale 1:4; (drawing by the author). Below: Carlisle T081 - scale 1:3; (drawing by the author).

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Fig. 5.25 Carlisle T082 a rectangular scoop - scale 1:4; (* Padley forthcoming b K 15).

Fig. 5.26 Two-in-one from Vindolanda. Vindolanda T083 - scale 1:3 and its graffito - scale c 2:3;(drawing by the author). The last artefact of this category is completely different and is, so far, unique. Vindolanda T083 (fig. 5.26) is a small scoop consisting of a rectangular, shallow spoon linked to a bowl by a curved handle with a rectangular section. The small surviving fragment of the bowl shows, on the inside, traces of turning marks: the reconstruction is based on this

observation. The rest of the artefact has been shaped by carving and sawing. Whether that applies also to the outside of the bowl it is impossible to tell since only the handle attachment area has survived. On the back of the rectangular spoon a scratched mark is apparent. By the time this artefact was deposited (120-140), part-turned and part-carved artefacts were

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no big news for Roman woodworkers. Serving implements (see page 108), which started production about the beginning of the 1st century AD, were known in Britain by the early of the 2nd century (London T056). This may have been a variation on that theme. 5.2.2.2 SPATULAE

The last entry in this section is a carved spatula of a very distinctive design not found outside Roman contexts. It consists of a shallow elongated spoon with a perforated handle normally defined by a notch on either side (fig. 5.27 right). The implement is cleverly designed to be used for stirring as well as for tasting with a provision for cooling the food in the long shallow spoon. It is found in Britain in London (T085-T090) and York (T084 and T091) with dates ranging from Flavian to the 3rd century. The standard material for this implement, from the 2nd century onwards, is boxwood. The close grain structure of this woodspecies makes it particularly suitable choice for the manufacture of kitchen equipment since food particles cannot easily be trapped in it.

were manufactured in pomoideae and larch respectively. Their profiles are very similar and lack the notches in all instances. This suggests some early experimenting after which the type became fixed and only boxwood was used. Finds from Gaul namely Marseille (Place Jules Verne excavations uncatalogued) and from the river Saône (‘Guet du port Guillot’ - 3rd century- Musée Denon - Chalon sur Saône no. 95.3.11) show the artefact type was well established in Western Europe. One of these spatulae, namely London T086 (fig. 5. 29), deserves a special consideration. This artefact belongs undoubtedly to this group. It is made in boxwood and has the typical shallow elongated bowl. A 13mm deep perforation at the top end of the back of the handle in which a peg holding a strap could be fixed, suggests a provision for suspension. The junction of the handle to the bowl is defined by a notch like in the standard type, but the handle itself is far from plain. It has been carved to represent a human figure. The portrait with wide flaring nostrils, protruding ears, thick lips, a marked prognathic profile and short crinkly hair is the caricature of a black man.

Fig. 5.27 Left: an early example of the shallow bowl scoop (London T087, scale 1:3). Right: the complete artefact type with the characteristic notches. (Drawing by the author). The type is again first attested in Vindonissa and, as is the case for the serving implements and the hemispherical cups, there is a possibility that it was developed there. The two instances from that site and the earliest specimen from Britain (London T087 with a Flavian date; fig. 5.28) are not in boxwood but

Fig. 5.28 London T086 - scale 1:3 (Frere 1991, 270 fig.21 drawing O’Carroll).

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Fig . 5.29 Grotesque wooden figurines. Above: from the Raetian Limes, Rainau-Buch - scale 1:3; (Limesmuseum Aalen Inv-no. R80-469 ; Greiner 1999, [611] 48, plates 115-116. Drawing Landesdenkmalamt Stuttgart – Digitizing: Verlag Greiner, Remshalden). Below: from Köln . Römisch-Germanisches Museum Invnr. 76,958 - scale 1:1; (Deckers 1990 fig.1). Representations of Africans, adorning utilitarian objects such as lamps and tableware, are known in the classical world from as early as the 6th/5th century BC. In classical societies blacks had, on one hand, a place in mythology as the ‘peace loving Aethiopes’, on the other, they were a diffuse presence as slaves and generally speaking people in lowly positions such as jugglers, mimes, gladiators, animal trainers, acrobats and soldiers (Snowden 1970, 164). Early representations of Africans do not normally show

racial prejudice, rather a love of the exotic. As Bradley cogently argues (Bradley K. 2000, 112) slavery was not in classical antiquity closely connected with race. It was an ‘equal opportunity condition’ available to all. In people’s minds, slaves had a closer association with animals than with humans: the former had two legs, the latter four. However, by the 3rd century, which is the date of this item, attitudes had changed. By that time, blacks came to be seen as a menace in the Roman provinces

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of northern Africa where marauding bands from the south were giving a hard time to the Roman outpost garrisons (Thompson 1989, 97). Such change of perception is possibly at the root of this cruel caricature. The low forehead and protruding ears are fully in keeping with the description of the 4th century court poet Claudian of blacks as barbaric (e.g. Carmina Minora 28, 16-23). The final touch to this grotesque portrait may have been the choice of material. Boxwood was particularly praised in classical times for its light hue and was compared to the human complexion, obviously of the white variety (Ovid, Metamorphoses 4, 135; 11, 417). The colour of the skin was an integral trait of a black person to the extent that, according to Lucian (Adversus indoctum 28), ‘to wash an Ethiopian white’ equalled to embarking upon an impossible and futile enterprise. Given the character of the carving, it is difficult to believe that the choice of so unsuitable a material was a mere accident.

The genre of the grotesque representation of humans dates to classical Athens and is strongly connected with the comic theatrical tradition which the Roman world inherited. Apart from being expressed on the stage with the assistance of masks, it influenced the plastic arts as shown by numerous figurines. A rare instance in wood (possibly from a conifer) is known from a 1st century context in Köln (Deckers, 1990). The figure with a beard, pointed ears and staring, lidless eyes may represent a satyr (fig. 5.29 below). It is no close parallel for the grotesque figure on London T086. A much better comparandum, fitting both in date and appearance, is afforded by the boxwood image from the vicus at Rainau-Buch on the Raetian Limes (Greiner 1999, 164-169). The artefact (fig. 5.29 above), from well 9 (constructed in 229 and filled after 246), is the grotesque representation of a porter. According to Greiner (ibid.), the short hairstyle suggests the portrait of an African; the considerations discussed above about London T086 lend support to the hypothesis.

5.3 WOODEN HOUSEHOLD WARE IN CONTEXT While most of the items discussed previously, i.e. combs, wood-soled footwear, pyxides and needlecases, were totally new ideas to this country, Britons were already using vessels and kitchen equipment made of wood before the invasion. They continued to do so to some extent, as shown by the finds on Hadrian’s Wall and on rural sites (e.g. Farmoor T034). However, alongside this underlying trend, new influences can be detected. New designs come in and are widely adopted, at least in the Romanised sites. Turned vessels increase dramatically in number and it is remarkable that, apart from the two troughs from 1 Poultry Lane, all the wooden vessels from London are turned. Moreover, some of these artefacts can be safely placed in the high-status category. Although there is some evidence for woodturning in pre-Roman Britain (see page 120), it is perhaps safer to think of imports at least in the very early days of the conquest. Imports however, do not just mean artefacts, but also people and their skills. While the archaeological evidence for local production of turned vessels (manufacturing remains

such as discarded turning cores, and roughouts) is still elusive, the case for local manufacture can be put forward in some cases, for Vindolanda T012 for example. Finds of lathe ends from the same site (shale - Birley 1994, 72, 117 and 138 dated to 100140) and at Castleford (Morris 1998, 338 nos 11-13) suggest that some form of turning (although not necessarily involving vessels) was practised in the Roman camp. On a wider perspective, the body of Roman turned household ware can be usefully assessed in relation to subsequent developments. The origins of medieval turning, in which vessels and plates played such a prominent role, are still not fully elucidated and are unlikely to be found in Roman craftsmanship. The following chapter examines the question, discusses the evidence for turned material originating outside the western Empire before and during Roman times, and concludes that medieval vessel turning owes more to Celtic and to Germanic societies than to Roman craftsmen.

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6 THE ORIGIN OF MEDIEVAL VESSEL TURNING Taken as a whole, the body of Roman wooden domestic containers suggests that they were not central to the day to day running of the household. Pottery’s presence was far too pervasive to allow wooden items to take a foothold. The absence of large vessels (bowls, cups and plates) from the Roman record can hardly be imputed to poor preservation since they are not found even in protected contexts. It is worth noting that at Les Martres de Veyre in the Auvergne and at Kertch in the Crimea, both funerary contexts of Roman date in which wood has been preserved, food offerings had been placed in pottery or basketry containers and not in wooden vessels. The dearth of archaeological evidence is much more likely, in view of this Europe-wide survey, to reflect a real situation: turned utilitarian vessels, whole or fragmentary, are not found because they were not there in the first instance.

171) which means that Saxon and medieval vessels were consistently larger than the Roman material. Their manufacture implies the use of a separate mandrel and Morris concluded that the craft of vessel turning in wood only became important in Britain in Saxon and medieval times (ibid. 159). Roman techniques and designs of turned vessels can hardly have been at the root of this development: one has to explore other avenues, especially as there are possible alternative sources. This chapter assesses the evidence for turned vessels from pre-Roman Britain and Celtic and Germanic continental Europe. The chapter is set out in four sections. The initial two re-consider the archaeological evidence i.e. the objects themselves, first from Britain, then from the continent. The question asked is: were the vessels in question manufactured entirely on the lathe as it has been claimed? The criteria applied are set out in Appendix 4. Section three examines the problem from a different angle. It looks at the technology required by the shape and size of some of the ‘turned’ vessels. This is particularly relevant to the material from pre-Roman Britain for which a number of poorly funded claims have been made. Since some of the items are no longer extant, one way to approach the problem of their manufacture is to look at the kind of technology required and set it against known contemporary and later developments. Section four brings together these and other strands of evidence and concludes that, with due consideration to developments in other fields of technology in Germanic and Celtic societies, these are more likely to be at the origin of medieval turned vessels. The conventions used in this section are explained on page 4.

According to Morris, on the other hand, in the medieval household wooden vessels were very extensively used for the preparation and consumption of food and drink. Although pottery was used for cooking pots, storage jars and jugs, most household vessels (bowls, dishes and cups) were made of wood. Her conclusions apply to every level of society including royalty; she quotes, for example, an instance in 1189 when over 12,000 wooden bowls were ordered for the coronation of Richard I (Morris 1985, 20). Morris’s analysis of the Saxon and medieval wooden bowls has also shown that all the round vessels over 200mm in diameter were turned. Out of a sample 228 strong she found that 80% measured between 90 and 260mm in diameter, 5% were larger than 300mm, five exceeded the 400mm mark and one (from London and dated to the 14th century) reached 550mm in diameter (Morris 1984,

6.1 THE EVIDENCE FROM PRE-ROMAN BRITAIN According to a recent appraisal of wood-turning techniques in prehistoric Britain, the art of bowl turning was widely used by the late Iron Age (Earwood 1993, 60). This conclusion rests on the evidence provided by a small number of artefacts. That, in itself, is not a problem. Wood survives only

in exceptional circumstances and is more prone to damage and decay than pottery, for example. However, it is the very nature of the artefacts, their rarity and the lack of comparanda for all but one of them, both in Britain and on the continent, that warrants a re-appraisal of the situation.

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All ‘turned’ vessels from prehistoric Britain come from sites from the western part of the country and all have been personally inspected.

6.1.1 GLASTONBURY LAKE VILLAGE This site, excavated by Bulleid and Gray in the early part of the last century, yielded a large collection of wooden artefacts; four of them were reported as turned vessels. These have a broad date from the 2nd century BC to the 1st century AD. The artefacts were first published by the excavators in 1911 (Bulleid and Gray 1911, 312, 314, 317, 322, 347). The surviving items were later re-examined by Earwood and republished in 1988 (Earwood 1988, 85-86). The original corpus included:

•

Fig. 6.1 Glastonbury X2 - scale 1:4; (*Earwood 1993 fig. 35). •

X2: cylindrical vessel in ash. It no longer exists. According to the excavators, its shape was arrived at by piecing together ‘about twenty weevil-eaten and much decayed fragments’. Its given measurements were 300mm across the rim, 320mm across the middle and 324mm at the base with a wall thickness of 15mm and a height of 145mm (Bulleid and Gray 1911, 312). The only surviving evidence for this piece is a line drawing from the original publication (ibid. fig. 64), which is reproduced here in fig. 6.1, and the replica which the excavators commissioned at the time (ibid. 310). The photo, published in plate 48 of the same publication, represents this replica, though it is not expressly stated so. It is possible to follow the development of the swirling incised design from this picture and see that about half the side of the vessel was originally missing (the missing part is shaded in a lighter colour). There is no evidence for the existence of a built-in base because it did not survive (S. Minnitt Taunton Museum, pers. comm.). Bulleid and Gray also mention the direction of the grain (parallel to the rim) and the presence of turning marks (‘internal parallel striae’) something of an achievement for anyone

•

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to detect in view of the state of decay of the fragmentary remains of the vessel. Bulleid and Gray’s conclusions as to the size, shape and manufacturing technique of the artefact, which Earwood endorsed (Earwood 1988, 84), invite caution especially in view of the analysis of X85 (see below) which is its only close parallel. X5: (Taunton Museum 252/2987/1774): cylindrical vessel of unidentified wood with the grain running at a right angle to the rim. The size quoted in the original report, with a maximum external diameter of 160mm (Bulleid and Gray 1911, 314), is certainly an overestimate even allowing for shrinkage since excavation. The surviving conjoining fragments, representing about a third of the vessel, give an external diameter ranging from 90mm to a very maximum of 120mm. The outer surface is divided into three bands each with a shallow depression in the centre and two raised cordons separated by deep grooves (fig. 6.2). Upon examination, the vessel showed clear, unequivocal turning striae inside and outside, both on the sides and on the base. However, it must be noted that only a very small portion of the raised cordons was actually turned; most of the surface corresponding to the cordons remained raw. The presence of unturned external facets suggests that the blank was almost perfectly rounded with a drawknife prior to being put on the lathe and that a minimal amount of wood was removed from the outer surface in the course of the turning process. The moulding was mainly achieved by cutting four grooves and three shallow dips. The limited remains of the base show that it was almost flat both inside and outside. Unfortunately, not enough of it survives to provide details on the core-removing technique used. This vessel is the only one for which a comparandum could be found (fig. 6.2). It comes from Feddersen Wierde, a rural settlement beyond the Roman frontier in northern Germany occupied between the 1st century BC and the 5th century AD (Haarnagel 1979, fig. 44 no. 6). The artefact has a 2 nd to 3 rd century date and does not fit in with the general character of the other turned vessels from the site which have curving sides and are wide and shallow. On the other hand, the technique for preparing blanks is the same. As fig. 6.10 shows, blanks from Feddersen Wierde were shaped as much as possible by carving prior to going on the lathe X13: (Taunton Museum 252/1987/1784): part of

Fig. 6.2 Left: Glastonbury X5 – scale 1:3; (drawing by the author). Right: its only known comparandum from Feddersen Wierde - scale 1:3; (*Haarnagel 1979 plate 44 no.6).

Fig. 6.3 Glastonbury X85. Above according to Bulleid and Gray - scale 1:4; (Bulleid and Gray 1911 fig. 129). Below according to Earwood; - scale 1:4; (*Earwood 1993 fig. 35). a globular bowl of unidentified wood with the grain running parallel to the rim. The surviving fragment is very small and does not allow the reconstruction of the original diameter with any degree of certainty. Earwood puts forward an approximate measurement of a 125mm diameter at the rim. She also agrees with Bulleid and Gray that the fragment shows toolmarks corresponding with those produced whilst turning (Earwood 1988, 85). That is certainly not the case. The tool marks on this piece both inside and outside are discontinuous and run oblique in relation to the rim: they are chisel marks produced whilst carving. •

high with a wall thickness ranging from 16 to 25mm (fig. 6.3). It no longer exists. The artefact is only known through the drawing and comments in Bulleid and Gray (1911, 347). The drawing shows a piece of wood laid flat and approximately 305mm long and 128mm wide. The fragment is curved in the rim area, a shape that is inconsistent with the vessel’s reconstructed cylindrical form. The remains of the decorative pattern follow a curve and support this conclusion. When Bulleid and Gray made the drawing, a small portion of the original rim survived and, as the figure shows, the section AB was positioned to include it. The width of the piece from A to B is correctly represented in the original section drawing in the clear area. The shaded portion of

X85: fragment of a cylindrical vessel of unidentified wood 385mm in diameter, 160mm

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the same section remains problematic and the evidence for the presence of a base ‘surrounded by a semicircular 18mm deep moulding’ rests on very little. Earwood’s redrawing of the fragment to make it fit this supposed cylindrical shape is questionable and the evidence for the presence of a base of any description even more scant. This piece, like X2, was found in a decayed and worm-eaten condition; the caveat expressed above for X2 concerning the presence of internal turning striae applies.

The bowl is complete (fig. 6.4). The external diameters given prior to conservation (during which it suffered much distortion) were estimated as follows: rim 135mm, shoulder 175mm, base 105mm. It is about 120mm high with a variable wall thickness ranging from 6 to 20mm. The wood species is not known. The grain runs parallel to the rim. The walls are of uneven, random thickness. In their report, Britnell and Earwood (1991,170) stated that no tool marks could be seen and that therefore it could not be stated conclusively whether the artefact had been carved or turned. Later in her book (Earwood 1993, fig. 37.2), Earwood boldly put it down as turned with no further elaboration.

6.1.2 THE BREIDDIN HILLFORT This Iron Age site in Wales has only been recently published. The bulk of wooden finds comes from the bottom of a cistern, ‘a securely closed context’ (Britnell and Earwood 1991, 163), for which there are two radiocarbon dates (310±70bc and 225±60bc). The finds include a globular bowl (ibid. no. 368) presently on display in Cardiff.

6.1.3 WOOKEY HOLE. This cave, situated in Somerset, was excavated at the beginning of the last century by Balch; he found a couple of wooden vessels preserved in goat dung, for which he put forward a tentative pre-Roman date (Balch 1914,133 and plate 24 no. 2 and 3). Only one vessel survives and is on display in Wells Museum (Balch no. 2027). The shallow bowl is now distorted and measures c 190mm in diameter at the rim, 40mm in height with a wall thickness varying from 9 to 4mm. The grain runs parallel to the rim. The thickness is uneven and random. Although the bowl is complete there are no marks on it to substantiate Balch’s claim that it had been turned after being shaped with a knife (ibid., 133). The wall surface both inside and outside is very smooth except for a few chisel marks and careful inspection of the base both inside and outside failed to produce any evidence that the item had ever been attached to a lathe.

Fig. 6.4 The Breiddin bowl. National Museum and Gallery, Cardiff no. 81.78H - scale 1:3; (*Earwood 1993 fig. 37.2).

6.2 THE EVIDENCE FROM THE CONTINENT The continental material considered in this survey originates from Celtic areas (La Tène and Chalon sur Saône) and from the Germanic world (Feddersen Wierde, Hjortspring, Uffing, Feddersee Moor). All items are unsatisfactorily published and two artefacts are no longer available for examination, namely the cup from Uffing, which cannot be traced, and the plate from Feddersee Moor, probably lost in the ravages of the 2nd World War (E. Riemer pers comm.). All available artefacts have been personally examined by the author.

6.2.1 LA TÈNE This site, situated at the northern end of Lake Neuchâtel in Switzerland, close to the river Thièle, that connected it in antiquity to Lake Biel, is well known for its finds of metalwork. It has been interpreted in a variety of ways from settlement, to trading depot, to ritual location (Reginelli 1998, 133136). Research by Berger and Joos has focussed on the

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No. *

Remains

276 1032

Drawing Fragments and casts

1034

Woodspecies -----------Acer sp.

Diameter (estimated) 185mm 260/280mm

Fragment

Acer sp.

240mm

1036

Fragment

Fraxinus excelsior

290mm

1043

Fragments

350mm

1117

Fragment

1187

Fragments

1240

Fragments and cast Drawing and cast

Fraxinus excelsior Acer sp. Root or burr Fraxinus excelsior Acer sp. ------------

190mm

1241

Turning evidence (see appendix 4) Deep grooves. Moulded rim; deep grooves; uniform thickness; possible traces of core/spindle removal. Moulded rim; turning marks; uniform thickness; possible traces of core removal. Moulded rim; turning marks; uniform thickness; possible traces of core/spindle removal. Moulded rim; uniform thickness.

80mm

Moulded rim; core removed with a sharp blade; deep grooves.

150mm

Moulded rim; uniform thickness; grooves. Moulded rim; uniform thickness; turning marks; grooves. Shape similar to 1240.

280mm

* Catalogue numbers attributed by Paul Vouga to finds in his excavation log book and used in Reginelli 1998 Table 6.1 Turned vessels from La Tène. analysis of the sediments and of the hydrology of the site (Berger and Joos 1977). It has shown that it was situated on a secondary branch of the river which was sluggish, shallow and unsuitable for navigation. In antiquity the area was slowly filled by alluvium, became swampy and boggy and peat developed. The river-bed was filled before Roman times. Berger and Joos also drew attention to the presence of finds in every layer of the deposits which indicated that material had accumulated over a long period of time and ruled out the possibility of a sudden, single catastrophic event like a flood. The current interpretation of the accumulation of the material is therefore that the location was used over a long period of time, possibly from late Halstatt (c 500 BC) to late La Tène (100 BC), for a form of water cult.

The metal swords associated with the wooden finds were dated typologically by de Navarro (1972) to 250-100 BC. Hollstein’s recent dendrochronological analysis of larger elements of wood belonging to a shield (no. 1231 in Paul Vouga’s logbook) and to the bridge spanning the body of water (pont Vouga), has shown that the oaks had been felled between 250 and 200 BC (Reginelli 1998, 19). The wooden remains (which include parts of chariots, weapons, tools and vessels) have only recently been catalogued by Reginelli (1998) and have not yet been the object of a detailed study. The material is now stored in the new Latenium Museum not far from the site itself. The assemblage of wooden vessels (table 6.1 and fig. 6.5) is known from the surviving original fragmentary artefacts and from additional strands of evidence: these include casts, replicas and drawings. While the casts, executed at the time of excavation, are certainly useful, the replicas made over the years can only be trusted up to a point. They tend to be deeper than the original vessels, at least judging by what is left of them and may represent an idealised form.

After sporadic recovery of finds by local people from the mid 19th century, the site was excavated mainly by Émile and Paul Vouga between 1880 and 1917. It produced a large collection of metalwork and of wood remains. The bulk of the wooden finds originated from a layer of clay situated at the depth of six metres at the bottom of the ancient river-bed where anaerobic conditions were favourable to the preservation of organic material.

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Fig. 6.5 La Tène vessels - scale 1:2; (drawings by the author; nos 1241 and 276, originally by de Navarro, redrawn from Reginelli 1998).

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Fig. 6.5 (continued) La Tène vessels - scale 1:3; no. 1034 - 1:2; (drawing by the author).

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The profile drawings of a few vessels were commissioned by de Navarro in the 1960s when he was in Neuchâtel studying the metalwork from the site. One vessel is only known from one of these drawings (no. 276). Clearly a certain amount of material has been lost over the years because of inadequate conservation procedures. Reginelli (1998, 111) lists as many as nine entries in Paul Vouga’s excavation log all mentioning several finds of wooden objects at a time (e.g ‘April 26th 1913. no. 1173: fragments of wooden bowls’). Unfortunately they can no longer be linked to extant material.

running parallel to the rim. According to the criteria set out in Appendix 4 they have all been made on the lathe. All artefacts, with the exception of no. 1117, originated from blanks made out of logs split in half, and are all wide and shallow.

6.2.2 CHALON SUR SAÔNE The deposits of Roman date in the river Saône and the surrounding areas have already been mentioned and have produced one of the two known instances of ‘pointed’ wood- soled footwear (fig. 3.19) and a large pyxis lid (page 72). An underwater site, known as St. Marcel-Vanne de Mouraillère, was investigated in 1982 and has produced finds spanning a wide chronological period from late Bronze Age to medieval (L. Bonnamour pers. comm.). The wooden bowl (fig. 6.6) was recovered from a layer rich in La Tène metalwork and has been tentatively dated by Bonnamour (pers. comm.) to that period.

Nine artefacts are relevant to the present enquiry. Two are only known either through drawings and/or casts; no fragments of these artefacts have survived. They have been included because of general considerations based on style. The seven surviving originals are all fragmentary, distorted and shrunk. The shrinkage is apparent by comparing the casts and the originals A close examination has shown that all these vessels present evidence of turning inside and outside. One artefact stands out immediately in the assemblage. No. 1117 in maple (from a burr according to Reginelli, but more likely a from a section of the trunk very close to the roots because of the tight bundles of fibres all running in the same direction) is the only vessel with grain running at right angle to the rim. It has certainly been on the lathe since it shows clear marks of the removal of the core with a sharp blade using the same technique employed later in the manufacture of London T005 (page 102). All the other artefacts have the grain

The artefact, originally retrieved in five conjoining pieces, has been restored and is almost complete. It is 310mm wide and 97mm high; the grain of the wood runs parallel to the rim. While there are no apparent marks of spindle or core removal on the inner or on the outer base nor turning striae on the wall of the vessel, other features suggest that it was made on the lathe. There are bundles of grooves running all the way around on the outside, the thickness of the wall is very even throughout, the rim is carefully shaped with a taper and the base is slightly footed.

Fig. 6.6 The vessel from Chalon sur Saône, Musée Denon no. 87.1.2 - scale 1:2; (drawing by the author).

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The item had originally been dated, by the pollen analysis of the material in which it was embedded, to the late Bronze Age/ Halstatt period. Rieth, however, dismissed the analysis as unsound and proposed a 2nd century AD date on the basis of a dubious similarity of the profile of the vessel to sigillata from la Graufsenque (Rieth and Langenbacher 1954, 14 and fig. 21). Unfortunately Rieth’s conclusion is equally unsound since there is no evidence at all for the manufacturing of items of this size and style in the Roman world as this survey has shown. The matter must remain unresolved since the item is no longer extant. The platter, showing a high level of woodworking craftsmanship, may indeed be as early as the pollen analysis indicates and is quite likely to be, in the broad sense, a Germanic product. There is no reason to assume that it originated elsewhere

6.2.3 FEDDERSEE MOOR A large wooden plate c 350mm in diameter was retrieved in 1927 from the Feddersee Moor 11.2 km north-west of Kappel (Kr. Biberach) in upper Bavaria in Germany. It can no longer be traced and is believed destroyed in the 2nd World War. Two representations of it remain. One is a profile probably by Rieth (Rieth 1940a, plate 51 fig. 2a); the other one is a photo also published by Rieth (Rieth 1940a plate 51 fig. 1 and 2). It shows that while the artefact was possibly turned on one side, it was certainly partly carved on the other. The carving marks are clear on the ‘foot-ring’. Both illustrations are shown in fig. 6.7. .

Fig. 6.7 The profile - scale 1:3; (*Rieth 1940a plate 51 2a) and above the picture of the vessel from Feddersee Moor showing the carving marks; (Paulsen 1992, 97 fig.83).

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6.2.4 HJORTSPRING

Fig. 6.8 The vessels from Hjortspring -scale 1:2; (drawing by the author). The assemblage of domestic wooden artefacts from Hjortspring is part of the cargo of a boat recovered in the 1920s from a bog in the island of Als off the south-eastern coast of Jutland. It is presently housed in the National Museum of Denmark in Copenhagen. Recent radiocarbon dating of a number of elements in the deposit gives a late 4th century BC date for the assemblage (Randsborg 1995, 20).

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The material from the site was first published in catalogue form by Rosenberg in 1937 (Rosenberg 1937; artefact numbers below refer to that classification). All artefacts show signs of intrusive conservation procedures. Five of them, which are particularly relevant to the present research, are considered in detail (fig. 6.8) • No. 533 Complete shallow bowl, 136mm in diameter and 40mm high, in unidentified wood made from a log split in half. The piece is very

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uniform in thickness which, together with the well-defined shallow cordons both on the moulded rim and on the body, suggests turning. There are no clear marks of lathe attachments. No. 535 Complete body and lid of a vessel in unidentified wood. The lid (67mm in diameter and 30mm high) is perforated. It shows turning marks on the underside, on the flange and on the top. The body (104mm in diameter and 47mm high) has clearly-marked cordons on the outside. In the inside, the undercutting is quite pronounced and consistent; the inner base is completely flat with a possible 12mm core scar in the middle. There are no signs of lathe attachment on the outside. The base of the knob, though, is very flat and that could correspond to a sawn off spindle. The item is possibly completely turned. No. 536 Complete body and lid of a vessel in

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the 4th century BC Athenian Agora (Sparkes and Talcott 1970, 173 and plate 42, 1276-1284) as an inspiration for the shape and the wooden pyxides from Praeneste (fig. 4.9) as a parallel for the technique. Randsborg also linked other material from the site, i. e. the straight-sided wooden boxes (e.g. no. 534), to the classic cylindrical Hellenistic pyxides. The comparison, though, is misleading: the latter are completely turned and have a built-in base while no. 534 is very different. It is a cylinder hollowed by carving with a separate base. The design is known in the area in other materials and according to M. Andrzejowska (Bronze Age Department Warsaw Archaeological Museum, pers. comm.), two-piece antler and bone cylindrical lidded boxes are a frequent occurrence in the Pomeranian culture of the northern Germanic plains (6th to 3rd centuries BC). They are considered native products. Randsborg’s conclusion reads: ‘it cannot be ruled out that a couple of the Hjortspring boxes were imported like no doubt the mail-coats from far afield’ (Randsborg 1995, 34). The statement is that much more surprising as Randsborg provides in the same breath several local pottery parallels for the lidded vessels and the open bowl (Randsborg 1995, 35 and fig. 22). He quotes a number of them from Jutland and the northern Germany/Polish plains (e.g. from Egebygård in the island of Bornholm, Denmark Müller 1900, 144; from the Hamburg area - MüllerBrauel 1932, 455 and fig. 9). These may have been ultimately inspired by Mediterranean material but they could in turn have been copied locally in wood. The evidence for the knowledge of the lathe north of the Alps in pre-Roman times makes it irrelevant to look for imports. Moreover, the mixed quality of the workmanship (which is also a feature of the ironwork from the site, M. Axboe National Museum of Denmark, pers. comm.) suggests local experimenting with different procedures rather than imports from distant lands.

unidentified wood. The lid (81mm in diameter and 40mm high) has some turning marks and a possible core removal scar on the underside. At the top the knob is flat and that corresponds to the area where the spindle was sawn off. The body (101mm in diameter and 44mm high) has fine rills on the outside suggesting turning and sits on a flat knob corresponding to a sawn off spindle. The thickness of the body is not consistent and the rim, which looks undamaged, is irregular. The piece was probably turned on the outside and hollowed by carving. No. 537 Complete body and lid of a vessel of unidentified wood. The lid (75mm in diameter and 14mm high) is perforated. It is turned with very fine ornamental grooves on the outside and a ledge on the flange. The body (104mm in diameter and 31mm high) has a set of grooves on the underside matching those on the lid; they lead to a central patch c 16mm in diameter corresponding to a spindle attachment. The inside body shows clear transverse scoring marks on the inner surface of the base and wall. The piece looks turned on the outside and hollowed by carving. No. 654 Complete lid of unidentified wood (82mm in diameter and 41mm high). It is turned both inside and outside. Turning marks are visible on the underside. On the top there are three concentric grooves and a 6mm diameter spindle attachment can be identified on the knob.

As the drawings indicate, all artefacts bar no. 533 have the grain of the wood running in the same direction as the axis of rotation of the lathe. They have been partly or completely turned in the spindle. They differ occasionally, however, in the wood conversion; whole billets as well as section of logs have been used for the manufacturing of the lidded vessels. The origin of the Hjortspring boat and its cargo has not yet been fully elucidated. Recent trials of a replica boat concluded that ‘it was fast, manoeuvrable and seaworthy …and could have come virtually from anywhere in southern Scandinavia or the southern coast of the Baltic’ (Haupt and Vinner 2000, 17). As for the domestic woodwork assemblage, Rieth (1940a, 101) pronounced it local, recognised it as turned, drew attention to the inelegant shape of the lidded vessels and did not elaborate.

6.2.5 UFFING A footed wooden cup (fig. 6.9) was discovered in the 1885 by Naue in a bronze situla in mound 4 of group 2 at Uffing in upper Bavaria (Kossack 1959, 241). It was found full of a substance identified as a mixture of honey and milk which, together with the presence of the metal container, may explain the excellent state of preservation of the cup (Rieth and Langenbacher 1954, 8). The item can no longer be traced and is only known from the replica that Naue commissioned upon invention and from a couple of pictures taken later in Munich by Rieth and published by him in 1940 (Rieth 1940b fig. 3).

In a later study Randsborg (1995, 34), looked much further afield for the origin of the wooden vessels and quoted a couple of parallels from the classical world. He saw the pottery ‘pyre type’ covered bowls from

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Fig 6.9 The cup from Uffing - scale 1:1; (*Rieth 1940a 88, fig. 4). On the same occasion Rieth had the wood analysed and it was identified as poplar/willow.

vessels had similar decoration with bundles of grooves (Kossack 1959, 106).

In spite of the marked deterioration of the item after excavation which is all too apparent in the photograph, the salient features of the artefact (i.e. the fine everted rim, the bundles of grooves and the captive ring) can still be made out. The concentric breakage pattern suggests that the item was manufactured from a billet with the grain of the wood perpendicular to the rim. The find was dated by Rieth (1940a, 88) by the associated situla to late Halstatt (6th to 5th centuries BC). The item was certainly manufactured on the lathe. The bundles of grooves, covering practically the whole of the outer surface, except the rim, and the captive ring trapped in the foot could not be achieved by carving. There is no need, though, for an open face lathe as suggested by Rieth (1940a, 100 fig. 19). The artefact is shallow and the mouth is sufficiently wide and open for the item to be worked between two points.

Considerations prompted by the presence of a captive ring can be added to Kossack’s and Naue’s lines of evidence. Ornamental, captive rings, normally in metal, are a Germanic feature and are found as early as the Bronze Age (e.g. on furniture: the folding stool from Daesen near Hamburg, Grodde 1989, 388; on artefacts: a razor handle from the ‘royal’ grave at Seddin north-east of Wittenberge, Shutz 1983, fig. 128). Captive rings are also found on cup handles, for example on the wood and metal cup from Heerstedt, Kreis Wesermunde (Capelle 1983, fig. 4; the artefact has a Bronze Age date) and significantly on material from the very same district where Uffing is (Etting mound 2, Kossack 1959, plate 102 no. 5).

6.2.6 FEDDERSEN WIERDE The settlement in northern Germany, occupied between the mid 1st century BC and the 2nd half of the 5th century AD (Schmid and Schuster 1999), was investigated from 1955 to 1963 by Haarnagel. It produced an impressive collection of wooden vessels dated from the 1st to the 3rd centuries which Haarnagel published in catalogue form in 1979 (Haarnagel 1979, plates 42-44). According to J. Schuster (Burg Bederkesa Museum, pers. comm.), Haarnagel could not find any comparanda for them. This survey has found one for no. 6 on plate 44 at Glastonbury (fig. 6.2). The cylindrical artefact is anomalous in the assemblage and will not be discussed here any further. Most of the other vessels are wide and shallow. The few deep ones (e.g. Haarnagel 1979, plate 43 no. 5) have a narrow basewhich is consistent with the hypothesis that all

The place of manufacture of the object is controversial. According to Rieth it was not a Halstatt form and he hesitated between Italy (Rieth 1940b, 624) and Greece (Rieth and Langenbacher 1954, 9). He drew attention to pottery comparanda from Etruria and thought the piece technically too advanced to be a local production. Naue, on the other hand, had always believed that the item was not an import and had quoted a number of comparable wooden finds from the area which have unfortunately not survived (Kossack 1959, 223). Kossack elaborated further and brought in the additional evidence provided by local Halstatt pottery with a body profile comparable to the wooden vessel in question. He noted that at least one of these pottery

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vessels were manufactured from blanks derived from logs split in half with the grain of the wood parallel to the rim. The surviving blanks, the catalogue lists three (Haarnagel 1979 plate 42 nos 1, 2 and 5) though Haarnagel’s own picture (ibid. plate 184 fig. 10) shows five, have a distinctive profile (fig. 6.10). Capelle mistakenly compares these blanks to those found in contemporary sites e.g. Paddepoel in the Netherlands (Capelle 1983, 408). The latter though, are blanks for vessels destined to be carved; those from Feddersen Wierde are for vessels destined to be turned. The important difference lies in the presence of a knob at the base which is missing in the Paddepoel blanks. The knob was not intended to be fashioned as a foot since none of the finished Feddersen Wierde vessels has any. The shape was designed to provide the piece with a built-in mandrel around which the strap turning the item could be wrapped. The material from La Tène with an equally wide and shallow profile shows the final stage of the process. When the wall of the vessel had been sufficiently thinned on the lathe, the rim shaped and the

ornamental grooves cut, the redundant material (i.e. the core inside and the knob attached to the outer base) was removed by a combination of carving and sawing without further reductions. A couple of items in the La Tène assemblage have retained sufficient traces of the base (e.g. nos 1032 and 1036) and show the scars left by the removal of the core and of the knob: both have large, rough, unturned patches in the centre on either sides. The blanks from Feddersen Wierde also show that the material destined for turning was first prepared by carving as far as possible, probably because of the unsophisticated tools available. The assemblage from Feddersen Wierde is not an isolated occurrence in the Germanic world in Roman times. The finds from Thorsberg (Raddatz 1987, 121ff) probably include turned material especially nos 1060 with the foot-ring and 1063 with the bundle of grooves. Recent excavations at Fallward and Flögeln, close to Feddersen Wierde and covering the same chronological span, have produced a wealth of wooden finds including turned vessels and furniture with components made on the lathe (Schön 1999).

Fig 6.10 Blanks for vessels to be turned from Feddersen Wierde showing all the carving work carried out before putting the blank on the lathe - scale 1:4; (*Haarnagel 1979 plate 42 nos 1,2,5).

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6.3 THE TECHNOLOGY So far, the investigation has focussed on the objects with only passing references to technological implications. These are expanded upon in this section with a detailed consideration of the problems involved in the turning items of specific shapes or large weights.

from the considerations on the shape expressed above, weight must also be taken into account.

6.3.1 SHAPE Cylindrical and globular vessels like those from Glastonbury are harder to turn than gently curving open profiles. In the cylindrical shape the weight is distributed in an awkward fashion. Because of the greater inertia of the mass, the turning of such profiles requires more torque (i.e. force) than the bowl shape in order to achieve the same surface velocity. The globular shape is even more complex and, according to Morris, who has done extensive experimental work on medieval bowl turning, it is the most difficult (1984, 179). The hollowing of both globular and cylindrical profiles requires the operator to stand in front of the mouth of the object. The lathe set-up must be modified by fixing a bent metal rod to a shortened headstock. The operator needs to be close to the working area to reduce, as much as possible, the length of the tools: the longer the tool, the higher the leverage and tools will tend to bend or snap. The strap operating the lathe can only be wrapped around items small enough to double up as a mandrel (e.g. Glastonbury X5 which is not over 120mm in diameter). Larger pieces like Glastonbury X2 and X85 would need a separate mandrel fixed at the base which, in turn, implies that the base must be thicker and that adds to the weight of the blank. The hollowing of globular shapes on the lathe (postulated by Earwood for Glastonbury X13 and the Breiddin bowl) is on balance an unlikely achievement of prehistoric woodworking in Britain. The earliest known unequivocally turned globular vessels from the British Isles are dated to the 9th century AD (Lissue co. Antrim, Morris 1984, L242 i-vii, but with a less sinuous profile). Moreover, the process requires the use of a hook tool (fig 6.11) which unlike the chisel and the gouge has cutting edges on the sides. While such shape tool, albeit much smaller, has been postulated for Roman globular pyxides (fig. 4.25) because of the clear turning marks, there is no evidence for it in Iron Age Britain. For the turned cylindrical vessels from Glastonbury moreover, apart

Fig. 6.11 Modern hook tool - scale 1:1; (drawing by the author).

6.3.2 WEIGHT Glastonbury X2 and X85 are truly large by any standard. It is therefore legitimate to ask whether the available Iron Age technology would have been able to cope with them. The information on ancient lathes can only be inferred from the contemporary turned material, the iconography and from more recent ethnographic parallels. The oldest known part of a lathe in Britain dates from Saxon times (a 10th century ratchet from York, Morris 1982, 258). This state of affairs is hardly surprising. Lathes are primarily made of wood and are prone to lose their identity when they have been taken apart. In its simplest form a lathe consists of a frame holding the workpiece so that it spins freely between two points and of a mechanism to impart the required surface velocity to it. The force is supplied by a human agent. The way this force is applied determines whether the movement is continuous or reciprocating. Although there is no formal proof that all the methods outlined below were actually used among ancient populations, they are considered in this context as the technology would have been within their reach.

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Fig. 6.12 A simple treadle lathe from 1930s Pakistan with a diagram showing how the treadle operated; (Lorimer 1938 plate 4 and Rieth and Langenbacher 1954 plate 3b). Continuous motion. According to Mutz (1972, 29), some Roman turned metalwork has marks consistent with continuous turning. His reconstructed Roman lathe included a large wheel and a strap connecting it to the mandrel. The same principle can be applied to turning wood.

treadle would produce reciprocating motion and it is worth noting that the crank converting reciprocating into continuous motion dates to about the XVI century. The point of interest in this overview is to see which of these techniques would have been able to cope with large items such as Glastonbury X2 and X85 on the basis of their reconstructed weights. Until medieval times turning was done with unseasoned wood. This may have resulted in the bowls going slightly oval with the passage of time, but such inconvenience was a price well worth paying as unseasoned wood is softer to cut and kinder to tools. The postulated weight of a blank for X2, in unseasoned ash, is in the region of 8.2 kilos, for X85 it is about 14.5 kilos (this one calculated in ash as well, although the wood species is not known). Experimental turning has shown that the bow lathe, whether operated in the traditional way with the bow held horizontally or the Romanian gypsy fashion with the bow in the vertical position and the cord looped around the wrist (King 1999), is only suitable for small items. The strap lathe has the advantage that both hands are engaged in rotating the piece: it can comfortably handle items weighing one kilo (enough for instance to turn Glastonbury X5). Moreover, if two operators are placed one on each side of the apparatus, the amount of force applied to the piece can be increased. It was established experimentally that a 5 kilo billet could be rotated at sufficient velocity without any problems with that method. The scenario involving

Reciprocating motion. Reciprocating motion covers bow, strap, pole and treadle lathes. The principle is always the same: a strap is wound around either the workpiece or the mandrel. When the strap is pulled the workpiece revolves towards the operator and the cutting can take place (cutting stroke). For the process to be repeated, the strap has to be returned in its original position. This is achieved by pulling the strap in the opposite direction and no cutting takes place (return stroke). The difference between the four types of lathe listed above rests on which part of the body is engaged in the process. In both the bow and the strap lathes the power required to rotate the object is delivered by the hand, in the treadle and in the pole lathes by the foot or feet. Hand-operated lathes using a bow or a strap were certainly known in antiquity (the earliest known image of a lathe of the strap sort is from a Ptolemaic tomb in Egypt dated to the 3rd century BC, Rieth 1940a, 101 and fig. 18). There is on the other hand, no conclusive evidence for the antiquity of the pole lathe (the earliest representation is medieval) and the same goes for the simple treadle like the one shown in fig 6.12 which dates from the 1930s. This simple

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middle of the 20th century (the surviving example, the Reading lathe, can still be seen at the Rural History Centre at the University of Reading) could handle greater weights. However, according to Dixon (1994, 71), the very maximum they could cope with, unaided, was in the region of 18 kilos.

four operators, two on each side of a longer mandrel cannot be excluded. With the pole lathe the situation is different. The main feature of this instrument is that it enables one operator to do both jobs, i.e. rotate the workpiece by pushing with the foot while holding the cutting instrument with both hands. Even so, although the downward push of the foot is stronger than the pull of the arm, this apparatus, in its simplest construction, is not designed for the manufacturing of very large items. For a start, the force applied to the treadle on a pole lathe is that provided by the leg pushing minus the strength required to bend the pole. If the piece is very large, it follows that the pole must have more spring in it to ensure that it can straighten up and operate the return stroke. This means that the operator has to push harder to achieve the same surface velocity. Mike Abbott’s experience showed that the turning a 230mm diameter bowl required drastic adjustments of his simple pole lathe (Abbott 1989,178). Turners like Laley and Jackson, on the other hand, who used massive machines up to the

In conclusion, the use of a lathe operated by continuous motion looks more promising for the turning of the larger Glastonbury vessels. For X85, for example, an apparatus with a 65mm diameter mandrel and a 800mm diameter wheel turning at 5 rpm would produce an adequate surface velocity i.e. one at which cutting would take place. These calculations were based on the data in Abbott (1989, 178) and Dixon (1994, 71) which both give a figure for the surface velocity in the region of 141 cm/sec. Stated in those terms (and perhaps with a generous supply of manpower, plenty of time and skilled engineers) the turning of Glastonbury X2 and X85 size material does not seem impossible in prehistoric Britain though it remains highly unlikely.

6.4 DISCUSSION This section has analysed material from pre-Roman Britain and from continental sites with a view to locating alternative sources for the development of medieval turned bowls and plates. It has examined a body of artefacts which have been claimed as turned and has investigated the technical implications of such claims.

knowledge of the turning industry at Glastonbury remains limited. In addition to X5, cores and wasters show that shale bracelets and anklets were worked on the lathe. These are necessarily small items. There is evidence for a turned 200mm diameter shale plate, but it looks, from the picture, like a fragment of a flat disk (K27 Bulleid and Gray 1911, 261) and it must also be borne in mind that shale is easier to turn and has definite planes of weakness. Glastonbury X59, an unfinished wheel hub is said to be turned (ibid., 336) but it is difficult to see how a 6 to 7 kilo blank could be made to revolve on wooden pivots as the excavators maintain. Experience has shown that the system only works for small items. At the root of the problem lies probably the desire of the excavators to find turned material while not being very knowledgeable about the technique. According to Bulleid and Gray, ‘the lake villagers possibly possessed their own lathes for turning their pottery and woodwork’ (Bulleid and Gray 1911, 261), a bizarre statement to say the least. The presence of metal turning is also mooted for a bronze bowl (E19, ibid., 179). All this is proffered without corroborating evidence. It is unfortunate that Bulleid and Gray’s faith in British Iron Age technology was not shaken by the only piece of ‘experimental archaeology’ they

For pre-Roman Britain the reappraisal of the evidence has yielded the following results. One item is undoubtedly turned (Glastonbury X5) and two are certainly not (Glastonbury X13 and the Wookey Hole bowl). The Breiddin vessel can be safely returned to its limbo status (‘It is not possible to say whether it was turned or carved’, Britnell and Earwood 1991, 170), but with a personal preference for carving in view of the uneven thickness of the walls. Glastonbury X13 and the Breiddin bowl may represent an Iron Age tradition of globular bowl carving. For Glastonbury X2 and X85 things are more complex. For a start it must be borne in mind that large items are less likely to survive in a recognisable state than small ones, so the lack of comparable material is not altogether surprising. Secondly our

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embarked upon, namely the replica of Glastonbury X2. Apparently the bowl ‘was reproduced with some difficulties’ by a firm whose workshops were ‘equipped with lathes worked by steam and replete with every modern convenience’ (ibid., 310). On balance, therefore, if both size and profile of the two larger containers are correct (and this is not certain at all), it is more likely that they were carved, which makes the villagers not only exceptional turners (see X5) but also wonderful carvers. For the continent, the cumulative evidence for the presence of hollow turning of large items in preRoman and Roman times is more convincing. The development cannot be linked to material and techniques from the classical world and must therefore be assumed to be local. The presence of blanks is an added piece of evidence. The shape of the items looks altogether more plausible for turning and does not imply nearly impossible technological leaps. The technical knowledge involved must be considered in the light of a broader argument. Turning was already practised in the 7th/6th century BC at the Heuneburg on metal, shale, amber and probably wood (the ‘turned’ vessel mentioned by Schiek in Paulsen 1992, 97 n. 270 is still unpublished). The published items from the site (Drescher 1984, 115-136) are all small. They include however an unfinished turned shale bracelet which shows that the material was worked locally and that the use of a separate mandrel was mastered. The technique is the same as the one employed at Glastonbury (Bulleid and Gray 1911, 254ff) and in Dorset (Calkin 1953), it is simply much earlier. Confirmation of the technical development outside the Empire can be derived by short consideration of the manufacture of turned soapstone vessels. According to O. Paccolat (University of Lausanne pers. comm.), the technique behind the material found in the alpine regions as from the 1st century AD (turned cooking and drinking vessels e.g. HochuliGysel 1999, 128-130 and Holliger and Pfeifer 1983)

was introduced by the Romans. The present survey has shown that the classical world had not developed the machinery capable of handling large items such as the one shown on fig. 6.12 from Roman Avenches. Soapstone was certainly exploited in the classical world as a text from Theophrastos shows (Theophrastos, On Stones 42). In the passage, the 3rd century BC Greek author mentions steatite, a variety of soapstone from Siphnos, in the Cyclades, that was used for making vessels. It is incorrect, however, to conclude that the artefacts were manufactured by turning. In Theophrastos’ times stone vessels were hollowed by drilling and shaped with abrasives. The misconception that he was talking of work on the lathe originated from his use of the word ‘τορνος’ which in Greek means chisel as well as lathe. Theophrastos was stating that, unlike other types of stone more prone to shattering, steatite, which is comparatively soft when worked soon after extraction, could be carved with a chisel rather than shaped by abrading. It is therefore more likely that the arrival of the Roman army in the Alpine region created a market which encouraged the application of a tried and tested know-how to soapstone; this raw material was locally widely available and could be turned into containers suitable for all operations connected with food processing including cooking. The conclusion therefore has to be that there was a long tradition of turning wooden vessels in the areas outside the Empire and that it evolved almost independently of the Roman world because the latter had little appetite for its products. Such tradition was fully developed by the migration period as the high quality material from Oberflacht, the cemetery in southern Germany shows (Paulsen 1992; Schiek 1992), and is the cornerstone of medieval vessel turning.

Fig. 6.13 Soapstone vessel from Roman Avenches. The vessel has been manufactured by a combination of turning and carving. After the wall was shaped by turning both inside and outside, the redundant material was removed by carving along the planes of weakness of the stone. The base therefore remained rough both inside and outside. Avenches Roman Museum no. AV70/7540 - scale 1:4; (*Roman Museum Avenches).

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7 THE WIDER ISSUES So far, Roman domestic woodwork has been studied analytically with an emphasis on the artefacts themselves, their manufacturing techniques, designs and uses, with a limited input of information culled from the literature and occasionally from the iconography.

The quest for a bigger picture is also hampered by the limited number of categories of material that could be studied. This research has concentrated on specific groups of objects not out of choice, but out of necessity. It was pointless to include artefacts that could not be fully investigated. This approach has necessarily meant that a number of remains, such as fragments of furniture, have been left out. They will hopefully become the focus of future research should additional evidence become available.

The transition to a synthesis, in which these items are assessed in a wider framework, is difficult. For a start, the number of objets is small, certainly compared to surveys covering artefacts in other materials such as pottery, glass or metal. The material from Britain (Appendix 1) totals 343 artefacts; the number of items from the rest of the Empire considered in this survey is about the same.

The situation is particularly galling since there is evidence of lost designs. An example is shown on fig.7.2. The artefact originates from the Fortuna Maris wreck on the eastern seaboard of Italy. It has been described by the commentator as a ‘food warmer’ (Desantis 1990, 247 no. 208). The object is a carved two-piece container in lime. It is held together by metal hinges and has a number of metal strips secured with rivets. The item has survived in a recognisable state only because of the waterlogged conditions in the sunken barge. Had it been deposited in a dry land site, the organic material would have deteriorated leaving only a heap of metal elements showing possibly traces of wood. Since this design is, so far, unique in the Roman world and beyond, it would have been impossible to reconstruct it. We simply lack the mental template to identify it from fragmentary remains. There is obviously no way to assess how much has been lost in this way.

The evidence is also unevenly distributed. Whole areas of western Europe are completely blank as far as Roman woodwork is concerned. Spain is a good example. The item from the site of El Cigarralejo in south-eastern Spain (fig. 7.1) shows that the craft of manufacturing vessels entirely on the lathe was already known in pre-Roman times. Unfortunately since there are no remains of domestic woodwork of later date from the whole province it is impossible to know how this early knowledge developed.

It would be inappropriate, however, in view of the restrictions discussed above, to abandon any quest for a broader picture in which more general issues such as the role and the status of wooden objects in the home, craftsmanship and the place of the body of Roman domestic woodwork in time and space can be aired. This is certainly not the occasion for attempting complete and exhaustive answers. It is rather an opportunity for formulating questions. The topics discussed in this section have been grouped under a number of headings. The first three deal with the objects themselves: their design and role in the home, the production chain and technical developments. This is then followed by an overall assessment of the Roman domestic woodworking scene.

Fig 7.1 A small vessel from the cremation cemetery at el Cigarralejo in south-eastern Spain dated to the 4th/2nd century BC (Cuadrado 1968 grave 200 no. 2443;). The snapped core, indicated with the arrow, shows that the item was hollowed on the lathe - scale 1:1; (Hundt 1968 fig.1 no.1).

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Fig. 7.2 The ‘food warmer’ from the Fortuna Maris wreck at Comacchio on the Adriatic coast of Italy. The stippled area indicates metalwork - scale 1:3; (*Desantis 1990, 247 no. 208).

7.1 THE OBJECTS 7.1.1 STATUS AND ROLE OF DOMESTIC WOODEN OBJECTS While the reservations expressed earlier concerning preservation of organic material make it pointless to attempt any form of quantification, it can be confidently stated that wooden objects were present in the domestic scene as low-status, utilitarian artefacts probably in a quantity which is not reflected in the archaeological record. Plain combs of indifferent quality, wood-soled footwear (excluding cork-soled slippers) and simple kitchen equipment could be manufactured in their simplest expression without great expertise; they might have had an allpervasive presence mainly out of convenience. The question is really whether wood was selected out of choice for complex, high-status artefacts. The analysis shows that wood had its devotees prepared to invest in superior craftsmanship for the production of non utilitarian objects. A couple of instances, clear evidence of niche markets for luxury domestic wooden objects, can be quoted. The boxwood comb from Carlisle (Carlisle C110 fig. 2.11) with copper alloy overlay on one side and chip-carving on the other, can hardly be classed among utilitarian artefacts. Moreover, it would perform rather poorly as a comb anyway, because of the very short length of its teeth. It was possibly not intended to be used at all, but rather to be seen on the lady’s dressing table. Equally, the small wooden vessel from Fishbourne (Fishbourne T010 fig. 5.14), which had its very close

parallel in glass at the same site and at the same time (Harden and Price 1971, 372 no. 66), has no lowstatus connotations. One is tempted to see the two objects arranged side by side on a table, equal in status and appeal. On the whole, the passion for boxwood in all its incarnations (combs, pyxides needlecases, serving implements, drinking cups, spatulae and, at least one instance, footwear) shows a choice based on practical considerations but possibly more on aesthetic appreciation. Boxwood may well have started off as the poor man’s ivory but it certainly came on to its own in Roman times and was appreciated in its own right. The experimental artefacts (frontispiece) do bring home the appeal of the uncorrupted material, a dimension that no archaeological find, 2000 years on, can achieve. No other wood-species enjoyed such a high degree of recognition in classical times.

5.1.2 WOOD SPECIFIC DESIGNS Generally speaking, wood is more constrained in its design than other raw materials: blanks will determine the shapes of turned bowls (see page 106). Even so, a number of items show that, over time, wood developed its own language. The pyxis is, of course, a clear example of a wood-specific design. The possibilities offered by a confident use of the lathe resulted into a modification of the ivory/bone

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prototype (see page 70). It is not, however, the only instance. All the wood-soled footwear is woodspecific in its design and has no counterpart in any other medium and the same applies to the large bentwood containers (scrinia curva). Some of the combs belong to this category as well. The 200mm long comb on Cyparenis’ stele can only be in wood, very probably boxwood (fig. 2.5). The only alternative would be ivory which is pretty unlikely because of the size of tusk required. The RomanoBritish style combs with the squared terminal and the chunky bottomed teeth pared with a sharp blade (see

pages 17 and 20), are yet another example of a woodspecific design. There were certainly artisans with ideas, developing designs, perfecting techniques and finding solutions that could be applied successfully to the production of a variety of domestic items in wood. On a general level, though, the craze for boxwood in Roman society probably played a part in focussing attention on small artefacts. This wood-species is very slow growing; its popularity encouraged the development of designs and manufacturing techniques consistent with the small diameter of the raw material available.

7.2 PRODUCTION material are very slim: these tools are not large and are perhaps unlikely to be identified in a corroded state. Secondly, even when they are identified, tools attract little attention and there is no follow-up. For example at Pompei, according to the excavation log (Giornale degli scavi quoted in Berry 1999, 192), a ‘tool for woodworking with L-shaped blade’ was recovered in the 1938 excavations from room 9 of the house of Epidius Primus (I.8.14). The item, probably a parting tool for the neat removal of cores in pyxides (fig. 4.20) is still waiting, sixty years on, to be examined, that is, if can be traced. It is not only Roman domestic artefact studies that are still in their infancy (Berry 1999, 195); the same applies to the tools that made them.

7.2.1 CRAFTSMEN AND CRAFTSMANSHIP While it is possible to study, 2000 years on, the artefacts manufactured by ancient craftsmen, it is much more difficult to investigate the people themselves and the production process. The archaeological record does not offer much help. Occasional finds of wood remains implying the use of the lathe, Castleford, Morris 1998, 338 nos 11 to 13 for Britain and Oberwinterthur, Fellmann 1991, 27 and nos 54 to 56 for Germania Superior for example, show the occurrence of turning. These finds, however, are not specific enough for the manufacturing processes that are under investigation here. There are no instances of turning cores, a sure evidence of hollow turning. Moreover, most finished products are so small that it is almost pointless to look for waste (Appendix 3 fig. 11). Finds of workshops, like the one at Cramond (Raisen forthcoming), identified on the basis of the presence of worked wood of different species, some of which were imported, are more likely to refer to a woodworking activity of a more general nature.

Alternative sources i.e. literature and iconography, are also not very revealing. There is certainly no shortage in the Latin language for names of craftsmen involved in woodwork (e.g. arcularii, capsarii and tornatores respectively the manufacturers of chests, of boxes and the turners). Unfortunately none of them can be closely associated with the items considered in this survey with the notable exception of the pectinarii, the craftsmen who made combs in a variety of raw materials. Whether they used ivory, bone, horn or wood, pectinarii would have required the same tools and would have had the expertise needed for the manufacture of the better boxwood combs. Pectinarii are know from a number of funerary stele and especially from Valerius Placidus’ in which he is shown in his workshop holding a clam, the symbol of the profession. (fig. 2.14). The only description in the literature of a woodworker’s workshop covers the craft of woodcarving and jointing and shows the status woodworkers could achieve in Roman society.

The record on tools is equally disappointing. There is certainly continuity for a few of them that have barely altered from classical times and have been in use until very recently (see fig 7.3 for a bow, and page 177ff for the combmaker’s clam). Moreover it has been possible to reconstruct the shape of a number of tools from the artefacts themselves. The actual archaeological evidence, though, is very limited. There are two factors to consider. For a start, the chances of recovery and identification of tools relevant to the manufacture of combs and turned

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Fig. 7.3 The picture shows a bow for a lathe observed recently by the author in a woodworker’s workshop in Amasra on the Black Sea coast of Turkey. It had been used by the shop owner’s father until 10 years ago (photo by the author). The double-handle design, which helps to control the tension of the strap, can be traced to Roman artefacts like the one from the doctor’s grave at Bingen in Germany (above, Künzl 1982, 85 fig. 60) which according to Brongers (1969, 12) had been developed by Egyptian carpenters. The passage is contained Apuleius’ Apologia (61ff) a work dated to the 2nd century AD. The text is the author’s self defence at his trial held in the city of Sabratha in Tripolitania. The accusation centres on Apuleius’ marriage to the wealthy widow Pudentilla whom he is charged with having won over with the help of magic.

event, we learn that Cornelius Saturninus, a man ‘whose skill was famous among the town folk and whose character was above reproach’, was a woodcarver and joiner. When Apuleius visited his workshop (taberna), Cornelius Saturninus had been working boxwood and had made ‘geometrical figures in the most cunning and ingenious manner’. His skills extended to the manufacturing of ‘mechanical devices’, possibly toys, which Apuleius ordered from him. As for the figurine, it was eventually made out of the elements of a small ebony box which Cornelius Saturninus reused and dovetailed together to produce a little image of Mercury. We learn from this passage that there were craftsmen dealing, apparently

One of the pieces of evidence brought against Apuleius is a figurine which, according to the prosecution, he caused to be made ‘in the costliest of woods, for the purpose of magic and by some secret process’. Apuleius’ defence against this particular charge is to produce the craftsman in court. From this

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exclusively, in costly woods and engaged in precision, detailed work that did not include turning. Cornelius Saturninus was an expert woodcarver and joiner and that was sufficient to give him status in the community. Makers of the better quality domestic woodwork may have enjoyed a comparable social standing.

citrarii (the makers of fine citrus-wood tables to which the eborarii provided the feet and legs) and had set up a joint guild (CIL VI 33885). Finally, for the balance of the production, there is room for a number of operators with different levels of skills and expertise. The variable quality of combs has already been touched upon (page 23); some items, such as soleae ligneae, required no expertise at all as it has been shown experimentally (page 183). Cork-soled slipper would be well within the reach of an ordinary cobbler as long as he could find the cork. Carpenters and cabinet-makers with access to boxwood (or not, as the case may be, and that would account for the pyxides turned in alternative wood species) and anxious to meet the demand of an expanding market, would have found a powerful incentive to learn new skills.

It is also quite likely that the better items considered in this research were not always the work of specialist craftsmen dealing exclusively in wood. The possibility that pectinarii would work in a variety of materials has already been discussed (page 25); on the whole, at the top end of the market, turners and, generally speaking, producers of finely crafted woodwork may also have been ivory workers. The eborarii are known from their work and could have turned boxwood alongside ivory. The size of the artefacts in the two materials is very comparable; they could have used the same lathe and the same turning tools and techniques. What is more, the eborarii were actually associated with woodworkers since they had joined strength in Rome with the

The conclusion has to be that there were no single producers of domestic woodwork: the demand was met from diverse sources and that is reflected in the great variety of the quality of the production.

7.3 TRADE If production is hard to investigate, trade, whether in the raw material or in the finished product, is even harder to examine in any detail. In general, though, the widespread distribution of most artefact types over the western Empire in the comparatively short time span covered by this survey, suggests that goods were moving whether by trade or otherwise in a quantity not reflected in the limited number of known instances of commerce.

Gaulish samian in mint conditions (C. Maloney pers. comm.). The group was found in 1989 close to the southern end of London Bridge. The area was devoid of buildings but full of finds and had a timber construction nearby interpreted as a jetty for loading and unloading small boats (Pirie and Saunders 1990, 146). The assemblage includes three pyxides (P001, P002 and P004), a serving implement (T056), the body of a needlecase (P029) and a comb (C066). All these artefacts, which have already been discussed in the relevant sections, are in boxwood. As a group, they have been interpreted as a trade consignment that for some reason was never retrieved (C. Maloney pers. comm.). The fact that the needlecase was found filled with a lump of iron, which is probably a bunch of needles rusted together, does not necessarily militate against this conclusion. Containers could and were sold with their content, like the glass unguentaria quoted in Stern (1999, 471) for example. The manufacturing technique of the pyxides points to an origin in western Europe. All three have a V-shaped inner base of a type that is only known north of the Alps. One of them (London P004) has a compass decoration and fastening system which is closely

The first one is a case of movement of raw material and refers to the Fortuna Maris boxwood cargo discussed on page 68. The quality of the shipment is a further proof of the importance of boxwood in the Roman world. According to Rottoli, the healed scars on the 32 logs show that they originated from stands that had been tended over the years to produce straight, tall trunks with no knots (M. Rottoli pers. comm.). There are two possible instances of trade in the finished product. The first one is the assemblage from 179 Borough High St, Southwark that has a terminus ante quem of the early 2nd century according to the associated

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paralleled in southern Gaul and in Vindonissa (page 75). This group of wooden artefacts may therefore have joined, at some point, a consignment of pottery destined for export to Britain and originating either from central or from southern Gaul. Both regions were suppliers of samian to London, southern Gaul first (AD 43 to 100/120) and central Gaul in that period and slightly later (Marsh 1981, 180). Southern Gaul also supplied Vindonissa (ibid. 207) a location with access to boxwood from the nearby Jura mountains and a good track record for woodworking crafts as the finds from the contemporary Schutthügel deposits testify. The connection could explain how the assemblage of wooden artefacts found at 179 Borough High St., Southwark, arrived in Britain. It is possible that the woodwork assemblage was picked up from Vindonissa upon the delivery of a pottery consignment and was subsequently attached to a samian shipment to Britain.

Fig. 7.4 Vindolanda T048 - scale 1:1; (drawing by the author). Certainly the globular jar full of drilled pyxides is a pointer in that direction. If it is hard to identify trade of groups of objects, it is practically impossible to track down commerce of individual items. Soldiers and civilians moved and these small items went with them. So, there is no way of knowing, for instance, whether Vindolanda T048 (fig 7.4), a turned base belonging to a basketry container, was manufactured near Hadrian’s Wall, whether it was brought over as a personal belonging or as an item of trade. The closest parallel for it is from a Roman context in Kertch in the Crimea (Vaulina and Wasovicz 1974 151, no. 78). The two finds are sufficiently similar to make the connection, yet they exhibit a number of important differences. Both items are turned to a comparable diameter and have two grooves around the edge in which the basketwork was secured. In Vindolanda T048, however, the grooves are quite shallow and the basketry was inserted in single strands in prepared perforations some 6mm apart. In the specimen from Kertch, the grooves are much deeper and the basketwork was inserted in bundles. Both artefacts were prepared on the lathe with the same procedure i.e., at the end of turning, the spindles were removed on either sides and the area cleaned out by drilling through. The opening was then made good with a turned plug which is still extant in Vindolanda T048. The raw material, however, is different: Vindolanda T048 is in oak, which was available locally, and the specimen from the Crimea is in boxwood. It could easily be that only the idea of a basketry container with a turned base moved from the Crimea to Hadrian’s Wall.

Another possible instance of trade is the assemblage from the Pozzino wreck already discussed on page 87 which is dated to 140-120 BC. This large consignment of small drilled pyxides consists of at least 136 items. These were thought by the excavators to have been housed, with other items, in a wooden box of which only the metal lock mechanism has survived (Nicosia and Romualdi 1990, 34). This figure, however, does not include an unspecified number of the same diminutive artefacts packed in a narrow necked globular jar. They were discovered when the jar was x-rayed. The jar and its content are still in conservation in Florence. Three hypotheses have been formulated to explain the cargo. The first two assume that either there was a doctor on board or that a doctor was moving house and was shipping his belongings (pyxides are linked to the medical profession; moreover, medical preparations and instruments, as well as a fragmentary figurine of Asclepius, were found on board). The third hypothesis considers the whole of the cargo as trade (Nicosia and Romualdi 1990, 12).

7.4 TECHNICAL DEVELOPMENT Technical development is particularly important, in Roman times, in three fields: combmaking, the manufacture of bentwood containers and turning. The fourth area of woodwork, i.e. carving, does not appear to have progressed significantly, at least in the area of domestic woodwork.

Both the techniques for combmaking and for the manufacture of bentwood containers were fully developed in Roman times. They were not improved upon in the medieval period and were used practically unchanged until comparatively recently. Figure 3 in appendix 3 shows a modern combmaker

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at work and using the same tools as a Roman one; as long as combs were manufactured by hand, the Roman technique remained unaltered. Equally, Baatz (1999, 66) was able to quote 20th century parallels for bentwood Roman modii from the Saalburg which are closely comparable to scrinia curva in size and in manufacturing technique (see page 97).

while the procedure developed initially for hollowing pyxides with a single instrument and resulting in a Vshaped inner base, was applied to the manufacture of larger vessels in western Europe and spread widely (page 112), it cannot be traced beyond the 4th century. Part-turned and part-carved items, such as the serving implements (page 111), were equally phased out. Finally, complex procedures involving the use of the pressure mandrel (page 110) or of combined turning (page 81) appear to have disappeared without trace. The reason for the developments of such technical dead ends is linked mainly to the design of the objects themselves as explained below.

Turning is very different: there was innovation in the Roman period but there is no continuity with subsequent developments in medieval times. Most Roman technical achievements were phased out by the end of the Empire or before. Turned and deep drilled containers (see page 87) are not found beyond the mid 2nd century AD. Moreover,

5.5 CONCLUSIONS As stated at the onset, the purpose of this survey has been to carry out the analysis of specific categories of Roman woodwork in order to detect trends. This brief required a sample as large as possible and, for this reason this survey has cast its net far and wide. It was also crucial not to build on previous research in this particular field without questioning it thoroughly. The approach has been very rewarding and allows a number of general conclusions to be drawn.

Needlecases and pyxides followed different paths but both died out in Roman times.

The Roman period was a time of great vitality and innovation for domestic woodwork in which new designs, ideas and techniques were developed in order to meet the demand of an expanding market. Some fared well and prospered; combs and woodsoled footwear are two instances. The persistence, until recently, of techniques and designs developed in Roman times has already been touched upon for combs; the same is probably true for wood-soled footwear, though unfortunately, so far, post-Roman relevant material has not been studied in sufficient depth and breadth. On the other hand, a surprising number of Roman woodworking designs and techniques, especially in the field of turned boxes and vessels, were dead ends. The position with household vessels has already been examined in chapter 6; it is clear that designs and techniques developed in Roman times were not at the root of the development of medieval bowl turning which owes more Germanic and Celtic societies.

The demise of the turned and drilled needlecase is probably an instance of inventive, enterprising craftsmen misjudging the marked demand. The manufacturing process of this artefact was eventually so complex that it perhaps became uneconomical. The crafting of the turned and drilled artefacts required a turner who was also a skilled carpenter (for the construction of the fixed drill) and had access to a blacksmith for the manufacturing of various crucial metal parts. The supply of raw material could be problematical since needlecases could hardly be manufactured out of segments of boxwood branches. Blanks had to come from portions of the tree trunk. The four known needlecases are all so very similar and span a very short chronology (from the 70s to early 2nd century): they could belong to a single workshop. They could be the output of a single craftsman who discovered at his expense that there was no one prepared to pay a price reflecting the expertise and the labour required to manufacture them. A completely different scenario but leading, in the end, to the same outcome i.e. a dead end, can be postulated for wooden pyxides. The artefact was standardised, in Roman times, to a plain cylindrical shape and became available in the western Empire to all levels of society. It is found there in a variety of contexts including native settlements (e.g. Schagen-

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Muggenburg in the Netherlands, van Rijn pers. comm.). The evidence shows that, north of the Alps, pyxides evolved into artefacts with an awkward inner profile and reduced capacity as craftsmen experimented with simplified production procedures (page 78) probably in order to meet the increased demand. A tenuous line of evidence also suggests that, as from the 1st century AD, wooden pyxis did not always have a practical purpose and that inner profile and capacity did not matter too much. The case of the button-lid pyxides from Les Martres de Veyre that were deposited empty, has already been discussed (page 82).

containers (e.g. amphorae from Norton - Yorks; pot from Corbridge) are suitable comparanda for the model pyxides. The wooden pyxis that had been standardised in Roman times to be the poor man’s (or woman’s) equivalent of the pyxides in alternative materials (e.g. amber, jet, shale and metal) took on a symbolic character and became an object intended to respond to a social need. It is hardly surprising, therefore, that the artefact (and the woodworking technique associated with it) met its demise when the society it was embedded in altered radically. The conclusion from the study of a limited number of categories that could be investigated in depth is that, in the Roman household, wooden objects, with probably the exception of combs, wood-soled footwear and simple kitchen equipment, were items with a social as well as a utilitarian dimension. This state of affairs fostered innovation and technical development, which, especially in the area of turning, placed an emphasis on the novelty of the process rather than on its practical potential.

This trend towards symbolism was occasionally pushed to the extreme. Artefacts such as, for instance, Carlisle P017 and Corbridge P011 (fig. 4.29) are truly diminutive and can be classed as miniatures or models. They are symbolic representations of pyxides. Models, interpreted by Green as ritual objects, were a widespread occurrence in Roman Britain both among the military and in the civilian society (Green 1978, 32). Miniature pottery

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APPENDIX 1: CORPORA Abbreviations and conventions LAARC: London Archaeological Archives Resource Centre. MOL: Museum of London. Items indicated in bold have been personally inspected. A glossary of Latin names is appended on page 159. See page 4 for conventions used in this section. C014 0: Vindolanda W878; 1: Vindolanda; 2:89/57/10; 3: wood; 4: sinuous; 5: plain; 6: 10/25; 7: 105 to 120. C015 0: Vindolanda W87.377; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/40/9; 3: wood; 4: D-shaped; 5: raised cordon; 6: 12/23; 7: 140 to 200. C016 0: Vindolanda W890; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/34/8; 3: wood; 5: chip-carving, a zig-zag pattern on both sides; 6: 12; 7: 100 to 105; 9: single-sided. C017 0: Vindolanda W1241; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 87/45/9; 3: wood; 4: sinuous; 5: plain; 6: 9/21; 7: 120 to 140. C018 0: Vindolanda W88.424; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/44/9; 3: wood; 4: plain and very thin; 5: sunken round cordon; 6: 13/18; 7: 140 to 200. C019 0: Vindolanda W1109; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/56/7; 3: wood; 4:D-shaped; 5: two grooves making a cordon; 6: 10/22; 7: 105 to 120. C020 0: Vindolanda W528; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 70/48/6; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 7/20; 7: 90s. C021 0: Vindolanda W 87.381; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/54/11; 3: wood; 4: plain; 5: sunken cordon; 6: 9/16; 7: 140 to 200. C022 0: Vindolanda SF 1412; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 110*/60*/8; 3: wood; 4 and 5: compass cut; 6: 12/17; 7: 100 to 130. C023 0: Vindolanda W88.561; 1: Vindolanda; 3: wood; 4: plain; 5: sunken cordon; 7: 140 to 200. C024 0: Vindolanda W1165; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/48/6; 3: wood; 4: plain; 5: sunken cordon; 6: 12/22; 7: Roman. C025 0: Vindolanda W3416; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/54/11; 3: wood; 4: D-shaped; 5: two grooves making a cordon; 6: 12/23; 7: 140 to 200. C026 0: Vindolanda SF 4308; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 72/40/7; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/29; 7: 95 to 100; 9: found in its leather case. C027 0: Vindolanda W3288 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/--/10; 3: wood; 4 and 5 plain; 6: 11/29; 7: 120 to 140. C028 0: Vindolanda W87.226 1: Vindolanda;

COMBS

KEY 0: present location and accession number; 1: provenance; 2: maximum size in mm: length/width/thickness - only complete measurements given; * indicates estimated length or width assuming a symmetrical artefact; 3: material; 4: terminal (fig. 2.3); 5: central bar style (fig. 2.8); 6: number of teeth per 20mm: coarse/fine; 7: date (all AD); 8: literature; 9: remarks. C001 0: Vindolanda WM11; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/45/8; 3: wood; 4: plain; 5: chip-carving, a star pattern on both sides near the terminal; 6:11/21; 7: Roman. C002 0: Vindolanda W87.215; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/--/10; 3: wood; 5: raised cordon; 7: 140 to 280. C003 0: Vindolanda W1415; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/56/--; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 8/21; 7: 105 to 140; 9: perforated terminal. C004 0: Vindolanda W1006; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/68/8; 3: wood; 4 and 5: compass cut; 6: 10/22; 7: 140 to 280. C005 0: Vindolanda W87.314; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/50/10; 3: wood; 4: plain; 5: sunken cordon; 6: 12/20; 7: 140 to 212. C006 0: Vindolanda W156; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/--/13; 3: wood; 5: sunken cordon; 7: Roman. C007 0: Vindolanda W738; 1: Vindolanda; 3: wood; 5: plain; 7: 140 to 200. C008 0: Vindolanda W926; 1: Vindolanda; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 11/20; 7: pre 90s. C009 0: Vindolanda W816; 1: Vindolanda; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: --/25; 7: 120 to 140. C010 0: Vindolanda SF 1210; 1: Vindolanda; 2:--/47/10; 3: wood; 4: sinuous: 5: plain; 6: 9/24; 7: 100 to 120. C011 0: Vindolanda SF 133; 1: Vindolanda; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 7: post 220. C012 0: Vindolanda W166; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/--/7; 3: wood; 4: D-shaped; 5: raised rounded cordon; 6: 9/19; 7: 100 to 105. C013 0: Vindolanda W85.57; 1: Vindolanda; 2:79/45/--; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 8/21; 7: 100 to 105; 9: asymmetrical.

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2: --/57/11; 3: wood; 4: D-shaped; 5: raised cordon; 6: 11/17; 7: 140 to 200. C029 0: Vindolanda W1120; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/47/10; 3: wood; 4: plain; 5: raised cordon; 6: 11/27; 7: 212 to after 280. C030 0: Vindolanda W487; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/40/10; 3: wood; 4: sinuous; 5: plain; 6: 10/23; 7: 105 to 120; 9: perforated terminal. C031 0: Vindolanda W87.243+W87.244; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 80/--/9; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 11/22; 7: 100 to 120. C032 0: Vindolanda W615; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 81/53/9; 3: wood; 4 and 5:plain; 6: 9/23; 7: 100 to 105; 9: asymmetrical. C033 0: Vindolanda W86.590; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 90/60/12; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 9/20; 7: 95 to 105. C034 0: Vindolanda W87.223; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/--/10; 3: wood; 4: plain; 5: raised cordon; 7: 140 to 200. C035 0: Vindolanda W87.388; 1: Vindolanda; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 9/24; 7: 95 to 105; 9: perforated terminal. C036 0: Vindolanda W8738; 1: Vindolanda; 3: wood; 4: plain; 5: raised cordon; 7: 140 to 200. C037 0: Vindolanda W1250; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 92/65/10; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 9/16; 7: 105 to 120. C038 0: Vindolanda W88.483; 1: Vindolanda; 2:--/--/10; 3: wood; 4: plain; 5: sunken cordon; 6:15/23; 7: 140 to 200. C039 0: Vindolanda W899; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 110*/64/8; 3: wood; 4 and 5: compass cut; 6: 11/21; 7: 140 to 200. C040 0: Vindolanda W1019; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 80/55/8; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/25; 7: 120 to 140. C041 0: Vindolanda W87.403; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/51/7; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/22; 7: 100 to 120. C042 0: Vindolanda W1140; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/55/10; 3: wood; 4: and 5: plain; 6: 9/23; 7: 140 to 200. C043 0: Vindolanda W87.317; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/48/11; 3: wood; 4: plain; 5: raised cordon; 6: 10/21; 7: 140 to 200. C044 0: Vindolanda W87.278; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 80/55/8; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 8/24; 7: 100 to 105. C045 0: Vindolanda W329; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/60/9; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 9/22; 7: 105 to 120. C046 0: Vindolanda W87.276; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 70/48/--; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/25; 7: 140 to 200.

C047 0: Vindolanda W212; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/53/10; 3: wood; 4: plain; 5: sunken cordon; 7: 140 to 200. C048 0: Vindolanda W1147; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/47/--; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/25; 7: 105 to 120. C049 0: Vindolanda W89.649; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/58/--; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/25; 7: 90s. C050 0: Vindolanda W87.404; 1: Vindolanda 2: --/50/8; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/22; 7: 100 to 120. C051 0: Vindolanda W1186; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/80/16; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 14/19; 7: 140 to 200. C052 0: Vindolanda W1369; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/60/--; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 9/26; 7: 105 to 120. C053 0: Vindolanda W1211; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/50/--; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 8/24; 7: Roman. C054 0: Vindolanda SF 1416; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/55/--; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/27; 7: 100 to 130. C055 0: Vindolanda W1273; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 73/--/--; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/21; 7: Roman. C056 0: Vindolanda W1039; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/57/6; 3: wood; 4 and 5: compass cut; 6: 9/17; 7: 140 to 200. C057 0: Vindolanda W526; 1: Vindolanda; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 7: pre 90s. C058 0: Vindolanda W1010; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/54/9; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/29; 7: 100 to 105. C059 0: Vindolanda --; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 76/--/--; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/22; 7: Roman. C060 0: Vindolanda W420; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/51/9; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 7: 105 to 120. C061 0: MOL 13639; 1: London - Bank of England; 2: --/77/11; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: squared; 5: plain; 6: 3/10 and bottomed; 7: 2nd. C062 0: MOL 85258/1; 1: London - Thames foreshore; 2: --/--/8; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4 and 5: compass cut; 6: 4/24 and bottomed; 7: Roman. C063 0: MOL 85258/2; 1: London - Thames foreshore; 2: --/--/13; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4 and 5: compass cut; 6: 5/14 and bottomed; 7: Roman. C064 0: MOL 25661; 1: London; 2: --/75/6; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: squared; 5: plain; 6: 8/16; 7: Roman. C065 0: MOL 81399; 1: London; 2: --/--/10; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 9/24;

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7: Roman. C066 0: MOL 307; 1: London - Southwark; 179 Borough High Street; 2: 105/55/10; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: sinuous; 5: plain; 6: 10/22; 7: terminus ante quem: early 2nd; 8: Pirie and Saunders 1990. C067 0: MOL 81400 1: London; 2: 120*/62/10; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4 and 5: compass cut; 6: 11/17; 7: Roman; 9: perforated terminal. C068 0: MOL 3438 1: London - Walbrook; 2: 86/43/6; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: angular; 5: plain; 6: 11/24; 7: Roman. C069 0: MOL 85258/3 1: London - Thames foreshore; 2: --/65/13; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: and 5: compass cut; 6: 13/18; 7: Roman. C070 0: MOL 719; 1: London - City; 2: 100*/75/10; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: squared; 5: slight taper; 6: 4/8 and bottomed; 7: Roman; 8: Home1926, plate facing page 230 no. 7; 9: now fragmentary it is shown complete in Home. C071 0: MOL 720; 1: London - Finsbury; 2: 90/67/13; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: squared; 5: taper; 6: 6/20 and bottomed; 7: Roman; 8: Home 1926, plate facing page 230 no. 4; 9: now fragmentary it is shown almost complete in Home. C072 0: MOL 24778; 1: London - Thames foreshore; 2: 190/75/10; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4 and 5: compass cut; 6: 9/19; 7: Roman. C073 0: MOL 265; 1: London - New Fresh Wharf; 2: --/80/10; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: D-shaped; 5: raised cordon; 6: 16/26; 7: 225 to 245; 8: Miller et al. 1986, 230 fig.10.2. C074 0: LAARC 267; 1: London - Cannon St. Station North; 2: 78/--/9; 3: wood; 4: plain; 5: taper; 6: 11/22; 7: Roman. C075 0: MOL A1917; 1: London - Moorgate St; 2: --/53/7; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: plain; 5: impressed (?)maker’s mark on both sides ‘DIGNVS’; 6: 9/20; 7: Roman; 8: Wright and Hassall 1971, 299; RIB 2441.6; 9: identified as wood by MacGregor 1985, 78 n. 14. C076 0: MOL; 1: London - Bucklesbury Ho.; 3: wood; 4: and 5: compass cut; 6: 11/21; 7: 1st to 3rd. C077 0: LAARC 1;1: London - Moorgate St. 2:104/55/8; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/20; 7: 140. C078 0 LAARC 431; 1: London - Copthall Ave.; 2: --/60/9; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 9/22; 7: 120 to 140. C079 0 LAARC ER 546; 1: London - Walbrook Wharf; 2: 110*/--/9; 3: wood; 4 and 5: compass cut; 6: 11/19; 7: Roman. C080 0 LAARC 55; 1: London - Coleman St.;

2: --/62/11; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: angular; 5: plain; 6: 10/23; 7: post 160. C081 0: LAARC 58; 1: London - Coleman St.; 2: --/56/10; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: and 5: plain; 6: 9/20; 7: post 120. C082 0: LAARC 265; 1: London - St Magnus; 2: --/56/6; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: Dshaped; 5: raised cordon; 6: 9/17; 7: Roman. C083 0: not known; 1: Portchester; 2: --/60/--; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 7/14; 7: Roman; 8: Cunliffe 1975, 262 no. 322 and fig. 137. C084 0: not known: 1: Portchester; 2: --/86/--; 3: wood; 4: angular; 5: three grooves; 6: 5/9; 7: mid 4th; 8: Cunliffe 1975, 262 no. 323 and fig.137. C085 0: Edinburgh - National Museums of Scotland FRA678; 1: Newstead; 2: --/64/7; 3: wood; 4: sinuous; 5: plain; 6:12/22; 7: Antonine; 8: Curle1911, 311 and fig. 93 no.33. C086 0: Edinburgh - National Museums of Scotland FRA679; 1: Newstead; 2: --/55/9; 3: wood; 4: sinuous; 5: plain; 6: 14/30; 7: late 1st; 8: Curle 1911, 311. C087 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W527; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: --/45/9; 3: wood; 4: sinuous: 5: impressed (?)maker’s mark on both sides: ‘MARCELLIN LVGRAC’; 6: 6/27; 7: 80 to 105; 8: Caruana forthcoming c no. 11; Tomlin 1991, 299 no 23; Tomlin 2002, 371. C088 0: Bristol Museum F4362; 1: Chew Valley Lake (Somerset); 2: 82/70/4; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: plain 5:double sunken cordon and unusually wide central area (17mm); 6: 9/18; 7: late 3rd to mid 4th; 8: Rahtz and Greenfield 1977, 277 no. 9. C089 0: Bristol Museum F4364; 1: Chew Valley Lake (Somerset); 2: --/--/4; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: plain; 5: unusually wide central area (13mm) with 2 pairs of grooves; 6: 12/20; 7: late 3rd to mid 4th; 8: Rahtz and Greenfield 1977, 277, no.11. C090 0: Bristol Museum F4364; 1: Chew Valley Lake (Somerset); 2: --/--/3; 3: Prunus sp.; 4: plain; 5: unusually wide central area (15mm); 6: 11/22; 7: late 3rd to mid 4th; 8: Rahtz and Greenfield 1977, 277, no.10. C091 0: Bristol Museum F4364; 1: Chew Valley Lake (Somerset); 2: --/--/4; 3: Prunus sp. 4: plain; 5: unusually wide central area (16mm); 7: late 3rd to mid 4th; 8: Rahtz and Greenfield 1977; 277, no. 12. C092 0: Fishbourne; 1: Fishbourne Palace; 2: --/67/7; 3: wood; 4: plain; 5: 3 grooves: scratched (?)owner’s name: ‘CATA’ on one side of the central bar; 6: 7/16; 7: 50s; 8: Henig and

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MacGregor 1996, 98 and fig. 4, no. 1; RIB 2444.1. C093 0: LAARC 54; 1: London - 22/25 Austin Friars;2: --/62/12; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: sinuous; 5: plain; 6: 9/18; 7: 40 to 250. C094 0: LAARC 154; 1: London - Billingsgate; 2: --/56/13; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 11/20; 7: pre 140; 8: Jones and Rhodes 1980 131, fig. 678. C095 0: LAARC ER 546; 1: London - Public Cleansing Depot; 2:102/--/--; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 11/26; 7: Roman. C096 0: LAARC 575; 1: London - Copthall Ave; 2: --/60/11; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/20; 7: 120 to 140. C097 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W201; 1: Carlisle - Castle St.; 2: --/--/11; 3: Buxus sp.; 4: angular; 5: plain; 6: 8/22; 7: early 2nd; 8: Padley and Winterbottom 1991, no. 778. C098 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W252; 1:Carlisle - Castle St.; 2: --/52/--; 3: (?)Buxus sp.; 4: sinuous; 5: plain; 6: 8/20; 7: early 2nd; 8: Padley and Winterbottom 1991 no.779; 9: partially perforated terminal. C099 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W516; 1: Carlisle - Castle St.; 2: --/--/6; 3: Buxus sp.; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/22; 7: end 1st; 8: Padley and Winterbottom 1991, no. 780. C100 0: National Museums of Wales - Cardiff; 1: Caernarfon; 2: 116/56/--; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/26; 7:100 to 120; 8: White 1985, 98 and plate 11b. C101 0: National Museum of Wales - Cardiff; 1: Caernarfon; 2: --/45/9; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4 and 5: plain; 7: 100 to 120; 8: White 1985, 98-99, fig. 3, no.2. C102 0: Winchester Museum Services; 1: Lankhills Cemetery - grave 155; 2: --/--/6; 3: (?)Buxus sempervirens; 4: plain; 5: wide central bar (13mm); 2 pairs of grooves; 6: 5/20; 7: first half 4th; 8: Clarke 1979, 247 no. 194. C103 0: Lost; 1: Wickford Well; 2: --/60/8; 3: wood: 4: fretted; 5: raised cordon; 6: 14/--; 7: post 200. 8: Chelsmford Museum Services n.d. C104 0: Corinium Museum - Cirencester C900410; 1: Cirencester - Watermoor; 2: --/63/12; 3: Larix decidua/Picea Abies; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 12/24; 7: 1st to 2nd; 8: Earwood forthcoming a. C105 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W12613; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: --/33/5; 3: (?)Buxus sp.; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 16/26; 7: end 1st; 8: Caruana forthcoming a D48; 9: heavily burnt. C106 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W12722; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: --/--/4; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 12/34; 7: end 1st;

8: Caruana forthcoming a D49. C107 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit SF 1; 1:Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: 80/50/6; 3: Buxus sp.; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 8/20; 7: c 100; 8: Caruana forthcoming a D50. C108 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W514; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: 79/44/7; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: fretted; 5: double sunken cordon; 6:10/26; 7: early 2nd; 8: Caruana forthcoming a D51. C109 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W10193; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: 78/53/6; 3: Buxus sp.; 4 and 5: plain; 6:10/24; 7: early 2nd; 8: Caruana forthcoming a D52. C110 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W163; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: --/45/9; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: fretted; 5: tinned and gilded copper alloy plaque; chip-carving (fig 2.11); 6: 10/21; 7: 100 to 150; 8: LloydMorgan forthcoming D53. C111 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W357; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 2: --/53/10; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 5: plain; 6: 12/24; 7: end 1st; 8: Padley forthcoming a K1. C112 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W106; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 2: --/53/10; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 9/22; 7: late 2nd; 8: Padley forthcoming a K2. C113 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W128; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 2: --/--/10; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 9/22; 7: late 2nd; 8: Padley forthcoming a K3. C114 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W40; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 2: --/55/12; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 5: plain; 6: 8/21; 7: 2nd; 8: Padley forthcoming a K4. C115 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W29; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 2: --/--/8; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/19; 7: late 2nd; 8: Padley forthcoming a K5. C116 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W39; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 2: --/95/4; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 5: plain, unusually wide (40mm); 7: 2nd to 3rd; 8: Padley forthcoming a K6. C117 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W136; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 2: --/50/7; 3: Buxus sp.; 4: angular; 5: plain; 6: 10/20; 7: Roman; 8: Padley forthcoming b K2. C118 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W118; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 2: --/56/11; 3: Buxus sp.; 4: plain; 5: sunken cordon; 6: 12/20; 7: Roman; 8: Padley forthcoming b K3. C119 0: Ribchester Museum RB89/2635; 1: Ribchester; 2: 108/52/10; 3: Buxus sp.; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 12/26; 7: Roman; 8:

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Howard-Davis and Whitworth forthcoming, 95 and no. 74; Fell 1991. C120 0: Ribchester Museum RBG80/77; 1: Ribchester; 2: --/51/10; 3: Buxus sp.; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/28; 7: Roman; 8: Howard-Davis and Whitworth forthcoming, 95 and no. 75; Fell 1991. C121 0: Lost; 1: Odell - Beds; 3: wood; 7: Roman; 8: Dix forthcoming. C122 0: Not known SF 467; 1: Dalton Parlours – West Yorks; 2: --/--/8; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 5: plain; 6: 12/22; 7: Roman; 8: Morris 1990a, 146 and fig. 99. C123 0: Edinburgh Archaeology Service AR 444/79; 1: Cramond; 2: --/--/6; 3: wood; 4: plain; 5: sunken cordon; 6: 11/25; 7: Antonine or Severan; 8: Holmes and Raisen forthcoming no. 7. C124 0: Exeter Royal Albert Museum QS79-365; 1: Exeter; 2: --/--/7; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: plain; 5: double groove; 6: 13/25; 7: late 2nd; 8: Earwood 1991, 276 and fig. 129 no.3. C125 0: Roman Bath Museum RBS 79 SF 396; 1: Bath; 2: --/70/9; 3: wood; 5: plain; 6: 4/16 and bottomed; 7: Roman; 8: Henig et al.1988, 26 no. 71 and fig. 13. C126 0: Roman Bath Museum RBS 79 SF 363; 1: Bath; 2: 79/40/6; 3: wood; 4: plain; 5: raised cordon; 6: 8/17 and bottomed; 7: Roman; 8: Henig et al. 1988, 24 no. 67 and fig. 13; 9: perforated terminal. C127 0: Roman Bath Museum RBS 79 SF 369; 1: Bath; 2: --/73/8; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 3/20 and bottomed; 7: Roman; 8: Henig et al. 1988, 24 no. 70 and fig.13. C128 0: Roman Bath Museum RBS 79 SF 365; 1: Bath; 2: --/61/7; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 6/16 and bottomed; 7: Roman; 8: Henig et al. 1988, 24 no. 68 and fig. 13. C129 0: Roman Bath Museum RBS 79 SF 1; 1: Bath; 2: --/73/6; 3: wood; 5: two grooves; 6: 6/16 and bottomed; 7: Roman. C130 0: Roman Bath Museum RBS 79 SF 366; 1: Bath; 2: --/58/8; 3: wood; 5: plain; 6: 12/16 and bottomed; 7: Roman; 8: Henig et al.1988, 24 no. 69 and fig. 13. C131 0: Roman Bath Museum 1983.965; 1: Combe Down Villa; 2: --/62/7; 3: wood; 4: squared; 5: plain; 6: 3/12 and bottomed; 7: late Roman. C132 0: Vindolanda W87.206; 1: Vindolanda; 3: wood; 5: plain; 7: 120 to 140. C133 0: LAARC ER 561; 1: London - Public Cleansing Depot; 2: --/54/--; 3: wood; 5: plain; 6: 9/18; 7: Roman. C134 0: Edinburgh National Museums of Scotland HT20; 1: Ledaig Moss Crannog - Argyll;

2: --68/6; 3: wood; 4: squared; 5: plain; 6: 6/20 and bottomed; 7: early medieval; 8: Munro 1882, 55. C135 0: Edinburgh National Museums of Scotland HT21; 1: Ledaig Moss Crannog - Argyll; 2: --/72/6; 3: wood; 4: squared; 5: plain; 6: 6/15; 7: early medieval; 8: Munro 1882, 55 fig. 27. C136 0: York Archaeological Trust SFs 2799+2174; 1: York - Tanner Row; 2: --/45/8; 3: wood; 5: 2 grooves; 6: 8/22; 7: early 3rd. C137 0: York Archaeological Trust SF 252; 1: York Rougier St.; 2: --/--/9; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 12/17; 7: 2nd to 4th. C138 0: York Archaeological Trust SFs 1960+1962; 1: York - Tanner Row; 2: --/62/9; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: --/8; 7: mid 2nd; 9: all fine teeth were removed with a sharp blade in antiquity; terminal present. C139 0: York Archaeological Trust SFs 1774+1856; 1: York - Tanner Row; 2: --/64/6; 3: wood; 4 and 5: compass cut; 6: 9/14; 7: mid 2nd. C140 0: Museum and Arts, Wakefield SF 365; 1: Castleford ; 2: --/45/6; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: sinuous; 5: plain; 6: 10/24; 7: Roman; 8: Morris 1998, 341 and fig. 154 no. 20. C141 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W89; Carlisle – Tullie House extension; 2: 111/60/10; 3: (?)Buxus sp.; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 10/22; 7: 105 to 185; 8 Caruana forthcoming b no. 18. C142 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W173; 1: Carlisle - Tullie House extension; 2: --/--/11; 3: Buxus sp.; 5: plain; 6: 10/26; 7: unstratified; 8: Caruana forthcoming b no. 19. C143 0: Privately owned; 1: Victoria Cave-Settle – Yorks; 2: -/-/7; 3: wood; 5: (?)ring and dot motif; 6: 10/-; 7: Roman; 8: Dearne and Lord 1998,111 no. 14.1 and fig. 34. C144 0: Glasgow - Hunterian Museum F1936.105; 1: Bar Hill; 2: --/--/8; 3: wood; 5: plain; 6: 12/22; 7: Antonine; 8: Robertson et al. 1975, 54 and fig.17 no. 18; 9: according to the publication two combs were originally found; only one known. C145 0: Winchester Museum Services 356; 1: Winchester - Cathedral Car Park site; 2: --/67/5; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: hybrid (fig. 2.9); 5: 4 grooves; 6: 8/19; 7: pre 300; 8: Clarke 1979, 246, n.1; the report quoted is not published. C 146 0: Winchester Museum Services 351; 1: Winchester - Cathedral Car Park site; 2: --/50/8; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: plain; 5: 3 grooves; 6: 8/20; 7: pre 300; 8: see no. 8 above.

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C147 0: LAARC 5200; 1: London - 1 Poultry Lane; 2: 84/51/9; 3: wood; 4: plain and very thin; 5: plain; 6: 12/25; 7: early to mid-Flavian. C148 0: LAARC 4543; 1: London - 1 Poultry Lane; 2: 90/50/10; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6: 9/20; 7: post-Flavian to pre-Hadrianic. C149 0: LAARC 529; 1: London - 1 Poultry Lane; 2: --/56/9; 3: wood; 4: plain; 5: two deep grooves making a wide raised cordon; 6: 4/19; 7: 4th; 9: the space between the coarse teeth was cleaned out with a fine chisel. C150 0: LAARC 5136; 1: London - 1 Poultry Lane; 2: --/*48/9; 3: wood; 4 and 5: plain; 6:12/25; 7: early to mid-Flavian. C151 0: LAARC 5167; 1: London - 1 Poultry Lane; 2: --/54/10; 3: wood; 4: plain and shorter than the teeth; 5: plain; 6: 9/20; 7: post-Flavian to Hadrianic. C152 0: LAARC 5127; 1: London - 1 Poultry; 2: --/40/7; 3: wood; 4: plain and very thin; 5: plain and very narrow (4mm); 6: 6/20; 7: postFlavian to Hadrianic. 9: the space between the coarse teeth was cleaned out with a fine chisel. C153 0: Ashmoleum Museum - Oxford 1975.138; 1: Shakenoak Villa; 2: 98/47/8; 3: (?)Buxus sp.; 4: sinuous; 5: plain and unusually wide (23mm); 6: 9/16; 7: 1st to mid 3rd; 8: Brodribb, A.C.C. et al. 1978, 110 and fig. 46.

ACCESSORIES

KEY 0: present location and accession number; 1: provenance; 2: material; 3: date, all AD; 4: description; 5: literature. M001 0: Vindolanda SF 6039; 1: Vindolanda; 2: wood; 3: 200 to 212; 4: fragmentary hairpin 110mm long with a rectangular flat head decorated with grooves. (fig. 2.17). M002 0: Vindolanda SF 1179; 1: Vindolanda; 2: wood; 3: 212 to 280; 4: whole hairpin 120mm long with a shaped head with carved and grooved decoration (fig. 2.17). M003 0: Vindolanda SF 5235; 1: Vindolanda; 2: wood; 3: 212 to 280; 4: whole turned hairpin 125mm long with a flat head and decorated with three beads (fig. 2.17). M004 0: Vindolanda SF 5804; 1: Vindolanda; 2: wood; 3: 120 to 200; 4: whole hairpin 110mm long with two grooves beneath a conical head (fig. 2.17). M005 0: Vindolanda SF 6028; 1: Vindolanda; 2: wood; 3: 120 to 200; 4: whole hairpin 120mm long with a shaped head decorated with grooves and concentric beading and terminating in a point (fig. 2.17). M006 0: LAARC 2640-2666; 1: London - 1 Poultry

Lane; 2: wood; 3: 1st; 4: 27 partly turned objects 18 to 32mm in diameter and a thickness ranging between 12 and 22mm; all have a central perforation c 5mm in diameter (fig. 2.15 showing LAARC 2664). M007 0: Chester - Grosvenor Museum; 1: Chester – Nun’s Field 1964 excavations; 2: silvered copper alloy and wood; 3: 1st; 4: two fragments of the disk of a hand mirror with a border of circular holes of irregular size and position; fragments of wood fibres adhere to the reflecting side of one fragment; 5: LloydMorgan 1977, 49 and 51, plate 5. M008 0: Chester - Grosvenor Museum 223.R.1976; 1: Chester - Infirmary Fields, grave 19; 2: silvered copper alloy and wood; 3: Roman; 4: 12 fragments of a plain hand mirror intentionally broken; a small quantity of decayed wood was found below it; 5: LloydMorgan 1977, 49 and no. 4; Newstead 1921, 141. M009 0: Not known (was in 1983 in the Department of the Environment Conservation Laboratory in London according to Lloyd-Morgan 1983); 1: Whitchurch (Salop); 2: Quercus sp. and high tin copper alloy with traces of lead; 3: 2nd; 4: a hand mirror with a border of circular holes found on a layer of cremated bone; traces of decomposed oak on both sides of the disk, none on the handle; 5: Musty and Rogerson 1973. M010 0: Not known (reported lost in Lloyd-Morgan 1983); 1: Chichester - St. Pancras Cemetery, burial no. 87c; 2: tinned copper alloy, wood, iron and leather; 3: early Flavian to end 2nd; 4: rectangular tinned copper alloy mirror in a wooden frame secured by iron studs at the back; traces of a leather case; 5: Down and Rule 1971, 80. M011 0: Not known (reported lost in Lloyd-Morgan 1983); 1: Chichester - St. Pancras cemetery, burial group 60; 2: tinned copper alloy and wood; 3: 80 to 100; 4: rectangular mirror with traces of a wooden cover; 5: Down and Rule 1971, 97 object L. M012 0: Northampton Museum 1995. 321; 1: Towcester - St. Lawrence road; 2: copper alloy and wood; 3: c 100; 4: thin rectangular fragmentary mirror with slightly bowed sides and bevelled edges set in a frame made of more than one layer of wood; 5: Lloyd-Morgan 1983. M013 0: Norwich Castle Museum NWHCM 1950:133; 1: Norwich - Stanley Ave. excavations, burial 1; 2: Quercus sp. and copper alloy; 3: 70; 4: a broken but complete

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hand mirror 130mm in diameter with a wide loop handle. The edges are decorated with ring and dot punchings; it was found with traces of a wood case painted in red; 5: Norwich Castle Museum pers. comm. and Anon. 1951, 132. M014 0: Corinium Museum, Cirencester C900408; 1: Cirencester - Watermoor; 2: Pomoideae family (Pirus malus/Pirus communis/Crategus sp.); 3: 1st to 2nd; 4: the body of a turned box (diameter 81mm; height 30mm; wall thickness 10mm) with the grain running orthogonally to the rim. On the outside the base shows turning marks and a small central depression corresponding to the lathe attachment. The sides are slightly waisted and decorated with grooves and cordons, a double one at the top and a single one at the base. The inside has been partly hollowed on the lathe. The top end close to the rim has been worked to a smooth vertical surface c 10mm high; the central area is rougher and shows at least one carving chisel mark. At the centre the core scar is apparent; the core was snapped and was cleaned leaving a depression c 6mm in diameter (fig. 2.20); 5: Earwood forthcoming. M015 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W93; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St. 2: wood; 3: 4th; 4: fragment of a turned bangle with a reconstructed diameter of 90mm; 5: Caruana forthcoming a D42. M016 0: Destroyed in the process of analysis; 1: Whitcombe (Dorset) - burial 8; 2: Viburnum opulus; 3: end 1st; 4: two bead spacers c 12mm long, 3mm in diameter with an axial perforation c 1.5mm wide, found in conjunction with 10 glass beads. The spacers had an overlay made of a compound of copper, iron and manganese; 5: Guido 1990; Newton 1990. M017 0: Not known; 1: London - Giltspur St. 2: (?)wood; 3: late Roman; 4: two bracelets in ‘organic’ material possibly wood, identified as part of the content of a wooden box associated with a burial which also contained item of jewellery and cosmetic equipment; 5: Carrington 1990; Schofield and Maloney 1998, 298-299.

6: date, all AD; 7: literature. S001 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit SF 52; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: 262/82/24; 3: Alnus sp.; 4: B3; 5: sole for a left foot with a pad under the seat and a transverse stilt under the tread (plate 1); 6: Roman; 7: Caruana forthcoming a D43. S002 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W585; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: 189/62/39; 3: (?)Alnus sp.; 4: B2; 5: sole for a right foot with a pad under the seat and triangle stilts under the tread (plate 1); 6: early 2nd; 7: Caruana forthcoming a D44. S003 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit SF 53; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: 236/67/32; 3: Alnus sp.; 4: B2; 5: damaged but complete sole for a right foot with a pad under the seat, (plate 1); 6: Roman; 7: Caruana forthcoming a D45. S004 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit SF 5; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 3: Quercus sp.; 4: B2; 5: fragment of a sole for a left foot, traces of a triangle stilt under the tread; 6: end 1st; 7: Caruana forthcoming a D 46. S005 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W55; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 3: (?)Alnus sp.; 4: A1; 5: fragment of the anterior part of a sole for a left foot with triangle stilts under the tread; possibly hinged (fig. 3.23); 6: Roman; 7: Padley forthcoming b K1. S006 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit L143; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 3: Quercus suber; 4: A2; 5: fragmentary slipper with a leather sole, a cork midsole bound by leather strips and a shaped leather vamp; 6: 150 to 200; 7: Padley forthcoming c in which the possibility of a second one (L136) is mentioned. S007 0: Glasgow, Hunterian Museum F 1922.52; 1: Balmuildy; 3: Quercus suber (author’s identification); 5: small, distorted and shrunk fragment of a cork sole 8/9 mm thick; 6: Roman; 7: Miller 1922, 99 where it is indicated as the fragment of a clog. S008 0: With the excavator, Dr. Brodribb; 1: Beauport Park - Sussex; 2: 275/97/37; 3: Alnus sp.; 4: A1; 5: sole for a left foot with a pad under the seat (plate 3); 6: early 2nd; 7: Brodribb and Cleere 1988, 264-5. S009 0: LAARC 983; 1: London - Upper Thames St. 2: 130/60/9; 3: Quercus suber; 4: A; 5: a very shrunk, slightly waisted cork sole with a thick leather outer sole and fine leather edging stitched in place; two large iron nails on the flesh side and three on the wear side (fig. 3.8); 6: 100 to 120.

FOOTWEAR

KEY 0: present location and accession number; 1: provenance; 2: size in mm length/width/ thickness - only complete measurements given; 3: material (refers to the main constituent of the item; for other materials see description); 4: fastening style (see fig. 3.13); 5: description;

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S010 0: MOL 1034; 1: London - City; 2: 270/82/36; 3: Fraxinus excelsior; 4: B3; 5: sole for a left foot with a pad under the seat and a transverse stilt under the tread; fragments of knotted leather thongs in the right hand perforation near the pad (plate 2); 6: Roman. S011 0: MOL 7893; 1: London; 2: -/55/c28; 3: Fraxinus excelsior; 5: fragmentary (?)sole suitable for a child with a pad under the seat; 6: Roman. S012 0: Vindolanda L4032; 1:Vindolanda; 2: 240/67/11; 3: Quercus suber; 4: A2; 5: a complete slipper for a right foot. It consists of a thick leather outer sole, a cork midsole bound with soft leather edging and a shaped leather vamp, (fig. 3.4); 6: 140 to 200. S013 0: Vindolanda W87.1019; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 255/80/30; 3: wood; 4: A1; 5: sole for a left foot with a pad under the seat and triangle stilts under the tread; the flesh side is ornamented with a pattern of incised chevrons and lines, (fig. 3.24 and plate 2); 6:100 to 105. S014 0: Vindolanda L85.73; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 250/110/--; 3: leather; 5: upper for a wooden sole made of two layers of leather and decorated with impressed lines and scallops; four holes on each side indicate the position of the nails, (fig. 3.26); 6:140 to 200. S015 0: Vindolanda W86.172; 1: Vindolanda; 2: c 230/70/34; 3: wood; 4: B1; 5: sole for a left foot with a pad under the seat and triangle stilts under the tread; nails were applied to the stilts after some wear had occurred, (plate 2); 6: 212 to 280. S016 0: Vindolanda W24; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 265/95/48; 3: wood; 4: A1; 5: sole for a left foot with a pad under the seat and triangle stilts under the tread; possible decorative grooves on the flesh side (plate 2); 6: 100 to 105. S017 0: Vindolanda W87.989; 1: Vindolanda; 2: c 230/86/30; 3: wood; 4: B2; 5: sole for a right foot with a pad under the seat and triangle stilts under the tread; the flesh side has an incised chevron decoration (fig. 3.24 and plate 2); 6:120 to 140. S018 0: Vindolanda; 1: Vindolanda: 2: 285/87/--; 3: fine soft leather; 5: asymmetrical leather upper belonging to S021 (fig. 3.26). S019 0: Vindolanda; 1: Vindolanda; 2: very crumpled, cannot be measured; 3: fine soft leather; 5: shaped leather upper possibly for a wooden sole; 6: Roman. S020 0: Vindolanda W87.1023; 1: Vindolanda; 2: c238/85/29; 3: wood; 4: A1; 5: sole for a right foot with a pad under the seat and triangle stilts under the tread (plate 3); 6:100

to 105. S021 0: Vindolanda W3469; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 228/78/38; 3: wood; 4: A1; 5: sole for a right foot with a squared end. It has a pad under the seat and triangle stilts under the tread. The flesh side is decorated with incised lines and compass work (fig. 3.24 and plate 3); traces of copper alloy nails. It was originally found with S018; 6:120 to 140. S022 0: Vindolanda W87.327; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 195/63/25; 3: wood; 4: A1; 5: sole for a left foot with a pad under the seat and incomplete and very slight triangle stilts under the tread (plate 3); 6:140 to 200. S023 0: Vindolanda W86.136; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 245/83/37; 3: salicaceae; 4: B1; 5: sole for a left foot with a pad under the seat and triangle stilts under the tread; the flesh side is decorated with the shape of a foot (fig. 3.24 and plate 3); 6: 100 to 105. S024 0: LAARC 311; 1: London - New Fresh Wharf; 2: 205/75/20; 3: Quercus sp.; 5: (?)sole flat on both sides with no indication of strap attachments (plate 3); 6: Roman. S025 0: National Museums of Scotland FRA115; 1: Newstead ; 2: 165/54/11; 3: Quercus sp.; 5: (?)sole with three perforations one of which is plugged with a small peg (plate 3); 6: Roman; 7: Curle 1911, 153 and plate 20 no. 2. S026 0: York Archaeological Unit 1984.32 3013 and 1919; 1: York - Tanner Row; 2: 240/70/--; 3: leather; 5: complete outer leather sole broken into sections with a punched motif around the perimeter and a cruciform (?)maker’s mark (OFIMCV ESV ORM) on the wear surface. It was found in conjunction with a leather stiffener and fragments of cork (max. 6mm thick) enclosed in a leather edging. The presence of decoration on the wear side suggests a delicate form of footwear to be used indoors, probably a soccus rather than a mule, because of the presence of the heel stiffener; 6: early 3rd; 7: Hassall and Tomlin 1987, 374 no. 32 and n. 54. S027 0: Harlow Museum HMB6430; 1: HarlowHolbrooks; 3: wood; 4: B4; 5:fragment of the rear part of a (?)sole with traces of a pad under the seat; presence of a well defined groove in the undamaged area (plate 1) 6: 3rd to 4th . S028 0: Museum and Arts, Wakefield SF 325; 1: Castleford; 3: wood; 4: B3; 5: damaged sole with traces of a pad under the seat and triangle stilts under the tread. The leather straps were fixed on the flesh side with a nail (fig. 3.18 and plate 1); 6: 71 to 86; 7: van Driel-Murray 1998, 303 no. 34.

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S029 0: Museum and Arts, Wakefield SF 493e; 1: Castleford 3: leather; 5: fragment of fine grained cowhide (3mm thick) with tooled lines and a large perforation at the apex; identified as a snippet from the upper of a wooden sole (plate 2); 6: 71 to 86; 7: van Driel-Murray 1998, 303 no. 33. S030 0: Vindolanda L989; 1: Vindolanda; 3: leather; 5: fragment of the upper of a wooden sole cut from a chamfron (fig. 3.26); 6: 120 to 140; 7: van Driel-Murray 1993, 33. S031 0: LAARC 146; 1: London - St. Magnus House 3: fine leather; 5: fragment of an edging strip for a cork sole with a 4.5mm wide gilded band (fig. 3.10); 6: 3rd; 7: MacConnoran 1986, 224, 8.29. S032: 0: LAARC 32; 1: London - St. Magnus House; 2: c 225/120/--; 3: fine leather; 5: gilded upper for a slipper with stamped and tooled patterns (fig. 3.10); 6: 3rd; 7: MacConnoran 1986, 224, 8.28. S033 0: LAARC 1; 1: London - St. Magnus House; 3: fine leather; 5: fragmentary gilded upper for a slipper with stamped and tooled patterns (fig. 3.10) 6: 3rd; 7: MacConnoran 1986, 224, 8.27.

CARVED BOXES AND BENTWOOD CONTAINERS

KEY 0: present location and accession number; 1: provenance; 2: size in mm; length/width/ thickness, only complete measurements given; 3: material (refers to the main constituent of the item; for other materials see description); 4: description; 5: date, all AD; 6: literature. L001 0: Vindolanda W1171; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 111/--/4; 3: Castanea sativa; 4: fragmentary lid of a sliding lid box with the carved image of a peacock. Traces of copper alloy inlay in the surrounding motif (fig. 4.5); 5: 90s. L002 0: Vindolanda W622; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 62/57/9; 3: wood; 4: possible lid of a box (plate 4); 5: 105 to 120. L003 0: Vindolanda W1163; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 60/54/7; 3: wood; 4: lid of a box with fastening perforations on one side and a starshaped decoration with copper alloy inlay on the other (fig. 4.2); 5: 90s. L004 0: Vindolanda W382; 1: Vindolanda ; 2: 73/57/8; 3: wood; 4: lid of a box with fastening perforations (plate 4); 5: 140 to 200. L005 0: Vindolanda W88.600; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 85/85/15; 3; wood; 4: drop lid for a square box with an opening c 30 by 30mm; the top has an inscribed ‘X’ (fig. 4.1); 5: 90s.

L006 0: Vindolanda W88.606; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/90/10; 3: wood; 4: fragmentary body for a sliding lid box (fig. 4.4); 5: 100 to 105. L007 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W353; 1: Carlisle - Castle St.; 2:120/103/25; 3: Picea abies; 4: drop lid for a box with a 72 by 78mm opening; the top has an inscribed ‘V’ (fig. 4.1); 5: early 2nd; 6: Padley and Winterbottom 1991 no. 786 and fig. 183. L008 0: Roman Bath Museum; RBS79 SF 20,029; 1: Bath; 2: 180/65/8; 3: wood; 4: fragmentary lid of a sliding lid box, possibly for an outside fit (fig. 4.4); 5: Roman; 6: Henig et al. 1988, 26 no. 74. L009 0: Harlow Museum HMB 6428; 1: HarlowHolbrooks; 3: Quercus sp. (base), Fraxinus sp. (wall); 4: fragmentary container with a reconstructed base 298mm in diameter and 9mm thick; the fragmentary wall, originally a single lath from a radial section, survives to a width of 76mm and a maximum thickness of 7mm. The lower edge of the lath was fixed to the base with wooden pegs driven into the edge of the base; three iron rim clip mounts and traces of a fourth (fig. 4.51); 5: 3rd to early 4th; 6: Morris forthcoming a. L010 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W3840; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 3: Quercus sp.; 4: damaged circular object with a diameter of 500mm and a maximum thickness of 45mm. The edges are rounded, possibly turned; one side is flat, the other appears to be purposely dished. A square sectioned groove 25mm deep and 17mm wide has been cut on the dished face; it is positioned 35mm from the edge and is concentric with it. Six out of a possible total of 10 dowel holes present: they have been drilled at a slant (fig. 4.53). 5: 72 to 79; 6: Caruana forthcoming a D91.

PYXIDES AND NEEDLECASES

KEY 0: Present location and accession number; 1: provenance; 2: size in mm; height/diameter (max.); only complete measurements given; most artefacts are damaged or deformed therefore the measurements given are either original or reconstructed assuming symmetry; 3: material; 4: description; 5: date, all AD; 6: literature; P001 0: MOL 265; 1: London - Southwark, 179 Borough High Street; 2: 68/59: 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: body of a pyxis (plate 4); 5: terminus ante quem: early 2nd; 6: Pirie and Saunders 1990. P002 0: MOL 466; 1: London - Southwark, 179

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Borough High Street; 2: 39/40; 3; Buxus sempervirens; 4: body of a pyxis (plate 4); 5: terminus ante quem: early 2nd; 6: Pirie and Saunders 1990. P003 0: MOL 24489; 1: London - (?)Walbrook; 2: --/62; 3: Fagus; 4: body of a pyxis (base missing); 5: Roman. P004 0: MOL 313; 1: London - Southwark, 179 Borough High Street. 2: 67/63; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: body of a pyxis with compass decoration and three perforations (fig. 4.19) 5: terminus ante quem: early 2nd; 6: Pirie and Saunders 1990. P005 0: MOL 19021; 1: London - Bucklesbury House; 2: 10/52; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: lid of a pyxis (plate 4); 5: late 1st to early 3rd. P006 0: LAARC 120; 1: London - Roman Quay; 2: 12/48; 3: Acer sp.; 4: lid of a pyxis with an oblique perforation (fig. 4.18); 5: 225 to 245; 6: Weeks and Rhodes 1986, 230 no. 10.1. P007 0: MOL 24051; 1: London - Blackfriars Ship; 2:13/63; 3: Buxus sempervirens.; 4: lid of a pyxis with an oblique perforation (fig. 4.18); 5: 2nd to 3rd; 6: Marsden 1965, 50 fig. 19 no.7. P008 0: MOL 24052; 1: London - Blackfriars Ship; 2: 13/65; 3: (?)Fraxinus excelsior; 4: (?)lid/body of a pyxis with an oblique perforation (fig. 4.18); 5: 2nd to 3rd; 6: Marsden 1965, 50 fig. 19 no. 8. P009 0: LAARC ER 448; 1: London - Bank of England, King’s Arms Yard; 2: 34/40 3: (?)Buxus sempervirens; 4: body of a pyxis (plate 4); 5: 2nd. P010 0: National Museums of Scotland-Edinburgh FRA 1133A; 1: Newstead; 2: 15/35; 3: wood; 4: body of a pyxis originally recovered whole (fig. 4.23); 5: 150 to 200; 6: Curle 1911, 311 and plate 59. P011 0: Corbridge Roman Museum; 1: Corbridge – the Hoard; 2: 18/23; 3: wood; 4: body of pyxis; (fig. 4.29); 5: first half 2nd; 6: Allason-Jones and Bishop 1988, 86 no. 292. P012 0: Corbridge Roman Museum 75.3771; 1: Corbridge; 2: 15/52; 3: (?)Ulmus; 4: lid of a pyxis (plate 4); 5: Roman; 6: Bishop and Dore 1988, 218 no. 2. P013 0: Hunterian Museum - Glasgow F1936 104 1: Bar Hill; 2: 47/40; 3: Salix; 4: body of a pyxis (plate 4); 5: Antonine; 6: Robertson et al. 1975, 54 fig. 17 no. 17. P014 0: Tullie Museum - Carlisle W211; 1: Carlisle – Castle St.; 2: 35/42; 3: Buxus sp.; 4: body of a pyxis (plate 4); 5: Roman; 6: Padley and Winterbottom 1991, 204 no. 781. P015 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W65; 1: Carlisle - Blackfriars St. 2: 12/50; 3:

Corylus avellana; 4: lid of a pyxis (plate 4); 5: 120 to 150; 6: Padley 1990, 156 no. 395. P016 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W22; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 2: 12/58; 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: lid of a pyxis with a vertical perforation (fig. 4.26); 5: 2nd; 6: Padley forthcoming a K7. P017 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W129; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 2: 18/28; 3: Buxus sempervirens.; 4: body of a pyxis (fig. 4.29); 5: 90s; 6: Padley forthcoming a K9. P018 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W 44; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 3: wood; 4: fragment of the (?)lid of a pyxis; 5: 2nd to 3rd; 6: Padley forthcoming a K8. P019 0: Vindolanda W88.550; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 16/58; 3: Buxus sp.; 4: lid of a pyxis (plate 4); 5: 105 to 120. P020 0: Vindolanda W355; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 19/63; 3: Buxus sp.; 4: lid of a pyxis possibly belonging to P022 (fig. 4.27); 5: 90s. P021 0: Vindolanda W85.8; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 42/61; 3: Buxus sp.; 4: body of a pyxis (fig. 4.21); 5: 90s. P022 0: Vindolanda W355; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/54; 3: wood; 4: body of a pyxis possibly belonging to P020 (plate 4); 5: 90s. P023 0: Vindolanda W88.423; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 103/90; 3: Buxus sp.; 4: body of a pyxis (plate 4); 5: 140 to 200. P024 0: Tullie Museum - Carlisle W302; 1: Carlisle – Castle St.; 2: 32/39 (body) 10/42 (lid); 3: Malus sp.; 4: a complete pyxis (plate 4); 5: Roman; 6: Padley and Winterbottom 1991, 204 no. 782. P025 0: MOL 19022; 1: London - Bucklesbury House; 2: 14/68; 3: Buxus sp.; 4: lid of a pyxis (fig. 4.27); 5: Flavian to Hadrianic; 6: Wilmott 1991, 151, no. 602. P026 0: MOL 19022; London - Buckelsbury House; 3: Buxus sp.; 4: broken body of a pyxis with no base, possibly discarded during manufacturing (fig. 4.22). 5: Flavian to Hadrianic; 6: Wilmott 1991,151, no. 602 where it is incorrectly described as fitting P025. P027 0: Vindolanda W801; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 13/68; 3: wood; 4: lid of a pyxis with a vertical perforation (plate 4); 5: 140 to 180. P028 0: Vindolanda W378; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 8/39; 3: Buxus sp.; 4: lid of a pyxis with a vertical perforation (plate 4); 5: 90 to 105. P029 0: MOL 314; 1: London - Southwark, 179 Borough High St.; 2: 107/28 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: body of a needlecase with (?)needles inside (plate 4); 5: terminus ante

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quem: early 2nd ; 6: Pirie and Saunders 1990. P030 0: Vindolanda SF 9317; 1: Vindolanda; 2: 108/25 (body) 90/24 (lid); 3; Buxus sp.; 4: complete needlecase with needles (fig. 4.45); 5: 90s; 6: Frere 1988, 434 and plate XXIIb. P031 0: Vindolanda W954; 1: Vindolanda; 2: --/25; 3: Buxus sp.; 4: fragmentary body of a needlecase; 5: pre 90s. P032 0: Tullie Museum - Carlisle W11443; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: 92/25 (body) 90/24 (lid); 3: Buxus sempervirens; 4: complete needlecase (plate 4); 5: 70s; 6: Caruana forthcoming a D40. P033 0: York Archaeological Trust 02134; 1: York – Tanner Row; 2: 24/107; 3: Fraxinus excelsior; 4: lid of a pyxis (fig. 4.15); 5: early to mid 3rd. P034 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W11261; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: 14/49 3: Buxus sp.; 4: lid of a pyxis with a vertical perforation (fig. 4.26); 5: 80 to 90; 6: Caruana forthcoming a D41. P035 0: LAARC 2022; 1: London - 1 Poultry Lane; 2: 87/63; 3: Buxus sp.; 4: body of a pyxis (plate 4); 5: Roman. P036 0: LAARC 5130; 1: London - 1 Poultry Lane; 2:12/65; 3: Buxus sp.; 4: lid of a pyxis (plate 4); 5: early 2nd. P037 0: LAARC 3670; 1: London - 1 Poultry Lane; 2: --/12; 3: wood; 4: lid of a pyxis with a vertical perforation (fig. 4.26); 5: 60 to 130. P038 0: LAARC 4160; 1: London - 1 Poultry Lane; 2: 65/60; 3; (?)Buxus sp.; 4: body of a pyxis (plate 4); 5: 90 to 130.

with a band of three grooves; maximum diameter: 150mm (plate 5); 4: Roman. T005 0: MOL 90345/2; 1: London - Queen St. 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: turned vessel with a beaded rim; maximum diameter: 72mm (fig. 5.2); 4: terminus ante quem: 3rd; 5: Wilmott 1982, 49 no. 90 and fig. 32. T006 0: MOL 21671; 1: London - Queen St.; 2: Fraxinus excelsior; 3: fragments of a turned vessel with a foot-ring and a beaded rim; maximum diameter: 214mm (fig. 5.15); 4: terminus ante quem: Antonine; 5: Wilmott 1982, 49 no. 91 and fig. 32. T007 0: LAARC 55; 1: London - Austin Friars; 2: Fraxinus excelsior; 3: fragment of a turned vessel with a shaped rim: maximum diameter of 86mm (fig. 5.2); 4: 270 to 400. T008 0: LAARC 698; 1: London - Thames Waterfront; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: turned vessel with a flat rim incised with two grooves; maximum diameter: 80mm (fig. 5.1); 4: 250 to 350. T009 0: MOL A2350; 1: London - Finsbury Circus; 2: Buxus sempervirens, possibly a burr; 3: a damaged and warped turned vessel; maximum diameter: 125mm (plate 5); 4: Roman. T010 0: Fishbourne; 1: Fishbourne Palace; 2: Buxus sempervirens (author’s identification), possibly a burr; 3: turned footed vessel; maximum diameter: 132mm (fig. 5.14); 4: 50s; 5: Henig and MacGregor 1996, 98 no. 3. T011 0: Vindolanda W86.98; 1:Vindolanda; 2: Salicaceae; 3: a broken and distorted (?)turned vessel; maximum diameter: 95mm (plate 5); 4:120 to 140. T012 0: Vindolanda W86.193; 1: Vindolanda; 2: Fraxinus excelsior; 3: (?)turned, unfinished vessel; maximum diameter: 96mm (fig. 5.19); 4: 140 to 200. T013 0: Vindolanda W1025; 1: Vindolanda; 2: wood; 3: unfinished, carved vessel; maximum diameter: 160mm (fig. 5.6 ) ; 4: 90s. T014 0: Vindolanda W85.47; 1: Vindolanda; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: fragmentary turned vessel with a flat rim incised with two grooves; maximum diameter: 82mm (plate 5); 4: 105 to 120. T015 0: Vindolanda W894; 1: Vindolanda; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: turned and (?)carved vessel with a flat rim; maximum diameter: 72mm (plate 5); 4: 90s. T016 0: Vindolanda W88.535; 1: Vindolanda; 2: wood; 3: a (?)turned and carved footed vessel; maximum diameter: 190mm (plate 5); 4: 100 to 105. T017 0: lost; 1: Exeter; 2: wood; 3: fragmentary

VESSELS AND KITCHEN EQUIPMENT

KEY: 0: present location and accession number; 1: provenance; 2: material; 3: description; 4: date, all AD; 5: literature; 6: remarks. T001 0: MOL 24896; 1: London - Southwark; 2: Ulmus; 3: several fragments of a shallow vessel or a lid, possibly turned; 4: mid 2nd to late 3rd. T002 0: MOL 1187; 1: London - Coleman St.; 2: Taxus baccata; 3: footed turned vessel; maximum diameter: 195mm (fig. 5.11); 4: Roman. T003 0: MOL 23468; 1: London - Cheapside; 2: wood; 3: fragmentary and warped footed vessel, possibly turned; 4: Roman. T004 0: MOL A 3497; 1: London; 2: Fraxinus excelsior; 3: fragmentary and deformed (?)turned, flat rimmed, footed vessel decorated

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diameter of 150mm; 4: 2nd; 5: Padley forthcoming b K17. T029 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit WD59; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 2: wood; 3: incomplete carinated vessel; maximum diameter: 112mm (fig. 5.8); 4: 3rd; 5: Padley forthcoming b K 18. T030 0: not known SF 1471; 1: Dalton Parlours – West Yorkshire; 2: Pomoideae; 3: fragments of a turned vessel; 4: Roman; 5: Morris 1990b, 224 no. 58. T031 0: not known SF 1600b; 1: Dalton ParloursWest Yorkshire; 2: Betula sp.; 3: two small fragments of a turned vessel; 4: Roman; 5: Morris 1990b, 224 no. 59. T032 0: not known SFs 1630, 1610 and 1497; 1: Dalton Parlours - West Yorkshire; 2: Pomoideae; 3: fragments of a turned vessel (fig. 5.10); 4: Roman; 5: Morris 1990b, 224 no. 60. T033 0: not known SF 1519; 1: Dalton Parlours – West Yorkshire; 2: Quercus sp.; 3: fragmentary (?)turned platter; diameter: 228mm (fig. 5.3); 4: Roman; 5: Morris 1990b, 24 no. 61. T034 0: Oxfordshire County Council Department of Museum Services - Woodstock SF 1027; 1: Farmoor (Oxfordshire); 2: Salix sp.; 3: fragmentary vessel; maximum diameter: 180mm (plate 7); 4: Roman; 5: Lambrick and Robinson 1979, 59 no. 16. T035 0: Tullie House Museum - Carlisle; 1: Birdoswald; 2: wood; 3: carved vessel; maximum diameter: 150 mm (fig. 5.5); 4: 290 to 350; 5: Summerfield 1997, 290 no.123. T036 0: Tullie House Museum - Carlisle; 1: Birdoswald; 2: wood; 3: fragment of worked wood belonging to a vessel or a plate; 4: 290 to 350; 5: Summerfield 1997, 290 no. 124. T037 0: Guernsey Museum A1989; 1: Guernsey; 2: Acer sp.; 3: fragments of a turned vessel; maximum diameter: 90mm; 4: 3rd; 5: Rule and Monahan 1993, 93 and fig. 67.2. T038 0: not known; 1: Tarraby (near Carlisle); 2: Quercus; 3: fragments of a carved vessel (Padley pers. comm.); 4: Roman. T039 0: MOL A 3123; 1: London - Moorgate St.; 2: Taxus baccata; 3: incomplete turned lid; diameter: 144mm (plate 6); 4: late 1st; 5: Anon. 1930, 109 and fig. 50 no. 4 in which it is described as a plate. T040 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit SF 14; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: Quercus; 3: fragmentary carved vessel; maximum diameter: 132 mm (fig. 5.6); 4: 70 to 120;

carved vessel: maximum diameter of 200mm; 4: late 2nd; 5: Earwood 1991, 277 no. 5 and fig. 131. T018 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W382; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: Quercus; 3: turned dish; maximum diameter: 235mm (fig. 5.3); 4: 80 to 105; 5: Caruana forthcoming c no. 13. T019 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W383; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: Alnus; 3: two fragments of a (?)dish; possible diameter: 220mm; 4: 80 to 105; 5: Caruana forthcoming c no. 14. T020 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W12719; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: wood; 3: two charred fragments of a turned vessel with a flat rim incised with two grooves; maximum diameter: 60 mm (plate 5); 4: 103 to 105; 5: Caruana forthcoming a D65. T021 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W11516; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: Alnus; 3: fragment of the misshapen body of a vessel: maximum diameter of 170mm; 4: 70 to 80; 5: Caruana forthcoming a D66. T022 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W11686; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: Fraxinus excelsior; 3: body fragment of a turned vessel; 4: 70 to 80; 5: Caruana forthcoming a D67. T023 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit SF 77; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: Acer sp.; 3: fragment of the rim of a turned vessel; 4: 80 to 103; 5: Caruana forthcoming a D68. T024 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit SFs 67, 100 and 81; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: Acer campestre 3: charred fragments of a vessel with a moulded rim; 4: 80 to 100; 5: Caruana forthcoming a D69. T025 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W10200; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: Pirus Malus/Crategus 3: turned, straight sided vessel with a foot-ring; maximum diameter: 188mm (fig. 5.10); 4: 100 to 120; 5: Caruana forthcoming a D70. T026 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W12627; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell; 2: Alnus; 3: rim fragment of a shallow, turned vessel; 4: 95; 5: Caruana forthcoming a D71. T027 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit WD262; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 2: Quercus sp.; 3: fragment of a turned vessel with a shallow foot-ring and an inverted rim; maximum diameter: 220mm (fig. 5.7); 4: 2nd; 5: Padley forthcoming b K16. T028 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit WD14; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 2: wood; 3: fragments of a turned vessel with a foot-ring: maximum

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5: Caruana forthcoming a D64. T041 0: Edinburgh Archaeology Service AR465/79; 1: Cramond; 2: Ulmus sp./Juglans regia possibly a burr; 3: charred fragmentary carved handled vessel; maximum diameter of the bowl: c145mm (fig. 5.2); 4: Severan. T042 0: British Museum 1865 12-20 24; 1: London – Lothbury St.; 2: Buxus sempervirens (author’s identification), possibly a burr; 3: turned vessel with a number of copper pins in the rim area suggesting the presence of a metal overlay on the rim; maximum diameter: 105 mm (fig. 5.2); 4: Roman. T043 0: York Archaeological Trust SF 165; 1: York – Rougier St.; 2: Salix sp.; 3: two conjoining fragments of a turned vessel; 4: late 2nd to early 3rd. T044 0: York Archaeological Trust SF 1691; 1: York - Tanner Row; 2: Pomoideae; 3: fragments of a turned vessel; maximum diameter: 70/80 mm; 4: mid to late 2nd. T045 0: York Archaeological Trust SF 8736; 1: York - Wellington Row; 2: Fraxinus excelsior; 3: fragment of a turned vessel; maximum diameter: 200mm (fig. 5.11); 4: late 1st; 5: Ottaway 1993, 39 and fig. 17 in which the material is described as alder. T046 0: York Archaeological Trust SF 2376; 1: York - Tanner Row; 2: (?)Juglans regia; 3: fragment of a turned vessel with an everted rim; maximum diameter: 100mm (fig. 5.9); 4: late 2nd. T047 0: LAARC 219; 1: London - London Wall; 2: Acer sp.; 3: fragment of a flanged turned vessel with a shallow foot-ring; maximum diameter: c 200mm (fig. 5.12); 4: 140 to 160. T048 0: Vindolanda W88.560; 1: Vindolanda; 2: Quercus; 3: turned base of basketry container; the centre has been drilled through and plugged; diameter 76mm (fig. 7.4); 4:140 to 200. T049 0: Maidstone Museum MNEMG 1973.25a; 1: Burntwick Island - Upchurch (Kent); 2: Quercus; 3: complete carved vessel; maximum diameter: c 90mm (plate 5); 4: 1st. T050 0: Norfolk Archaeological Unit SF 1470; 1: Scole - Dickleburgh; 2: Acer campestre; 3: complete carved blank for a (?)handled vessel; maximum diameter excluding handles: 200mm (plate 7); 4: late Iron Age to early Roman; 5: Morris forthcoming b. T051 0: Norfolk Archaeological Unit SF 1480; 1: Scole - Dickleburgh; 2: Acer campestre; 3: complete carved blank for a (?)handled vessel; maximum diameter excluding handles:

180mm (plate 7); 4: late Iron Age to early Roman; 5: Morris forthcoming b. T052 0: West Yorkshire Archaeological Services – Wakefield SFs 252 and 457; 1: Rothwell colliery; 2: wood; 3: two fragments of a turned vessel; maximum diameter: 126mm (fig. 5.21); 4: late 4th. T053 0: West Yorkshire Archaeological Services – Wakefield, SF446; 1: Rothwell colliery; 2: wood; 3: fragment of a turned vessel; maximum diameter: 120mm; traces of charring (fig. 5.21); 4: late 4th. T054 0: York Archaeological Trust SF 2143; 1: York - Tanner Row; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: fragment of a turned vessel over 61mm in diameter; 4: early 3rd. T055 0: LAARC 313; 1: London - Roman Quay; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: serving implement with partly turned bowl and perforated handle (fig. 5.17); 4: 3rd to 4th. T056 0: MOL 605; 1: London - Southwark, 179 Borough High St.; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: serving implement with a partly turned bowl (plate 6); 4: terminus ante quem: early 2nd; 5: Pirie and Saunders 1990. T057 0: MOL 14809; 1: London - Bank of England; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: serving implement with partly turned bowl and perforated handle (plate 6); 4: 2nd. T058 0: MOL 12603; 1: London - Upper Thames St.; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: perforated, carved handle of a serving implement with traces of the bowl (plate 6); 4: Roman. T059 0: LAARC 218; 1: London - London Wall; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: bowl of a partly turned serving implement (plate 6); 4: 2nd. T060 0: Archaeology Department - Leicester University SF 105/24; 1: Alchester Roman fort (Oxfordshire); 2: wood; 3: turned cup with a pronounced foot and decorative grooves (fig. 5.2); 4: 40s to 60s. T061 0: MOL 21490; 1: London - Queen St.; 2: (?)Fraxinus excelsior; 3: carved spoon (plate 8) 4: pre-Flavian; 5: Wilmott 1982, 49 no. 94 and fig. 32. T062 0: LAARC 363; 1: London - Roman Quay; 2: Quercus; 3: small fragment of a carved (?)serving implement/spoon; 4: Hadrianic. T063 0: Vindolanda W342; 1: Vindolanda; 2: wood; 3: carved spatula; 4: pre 90s. T064 0: Vindolanda W1079; 1: Vindolanda; 2: wood; 3: carved spatula (plate 8); 4: pre 90s. T065 0: Guernsey Museum A2246; 1: Guernsey Wreck; 2: Cornus; 3: carved spoon blank (plate 7); 4: 3rd; 5: Rule and Monahan 1993, 93 and fig 67.7.

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T066 0: Guernsey Museum A68; 1: Guernsey Wreck; 2: Fraxinus excelsior; 3: carved spatula with traces of charring (plate 8); 4: 3rd; 5: Rule and Monahan 1993, 93 and fig. 67. 4. T067 0: National Museums of Scotland FRA 1142; 1: Newstead; 3: carved spatula (plate 8); 4: 1st to 2nd. T068 0: National Museums of Scotland-Edinburgh FZ115; 1: Castle Cary; 2: Quercus; 3: carved spatula (plate 8); 4: 2nd. T069 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W735; 1: Carlisle - Castle St.; 2: Quercus; 3: carved spatula with traces of charring; 4: late 1st; 5: Padley and Winterbottom 1991 no. 784 and fig. 182. T070 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W253; 1: Carlisle - Castle St.; 2: Quercus; 3: carved spatula with traces of charring; 4: 105 to midlate Hadrianic; 5: Padley and Winterbottom 1991 no. 783 and fig. 181. T071 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W11693; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: Alnus; 3: carved serving implement (plate 10); 4: 70 to 80; 5: Caruana forthcoming a D 77. T072 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit SF 25; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: Quercus ; 3: carved serving implement (plate 10); 4; 70 to 80; 5: Caruana forthcoming a D 79. T073 0: Bristol Museum; 1: Chew Valley Lake (Somerset); 2: Corylus avellana; 3: fragmentary carved fork (plate 8); 4: late 3rd to 4th; 5: Rahtz and Greenfield 1977, 277 no. 13. T074 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W740; 1: Carlisle - Castle St.; 2: Quercus; 3: carved spatula with charred handle; 4: late 1st; 5: Padley and Winterbottom 1991 no. 785 and fig. 182. T075 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W503; 1: Carlisle - Castle St.; 2: Pomoideae; 3: carved (?)spoon handle with perforation (plate 7); 4: Roman. T076 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W10027; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: wood; 3: fragmentary carved trough (plate 9); 4: 100 to 120; 5: Caruana forthcoming a D76. T077 0: Vindolanda W563; 1: Vindolanda; 2: wood; 3: carved trough (fig. 5.23); 4: 120 to 140. T078 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit; 1: Carlisle Annetwell St.; 2: Alnus; 3: fragmentary charred, carved trough (plate 9); 4: 100 to 120; 5: Caruana 1992, 75 no. 26 and fig. 13. T079 0: LAARC 2392; 1: London -1 Poultry Lane; 2: (?)Quercus; 3: carved trough (plate 9); .

4: end 1st; 6: one of two troughs from the same site. T080 0: MOL 90345/1; 1: London - Queen St.; 2: wood; 3: round, carved scoop with the handle fixed with an iron rivet; 4: Flavian or earlier (fig. 5.24); 5: Wilmott 1982, 43 no. 92 where it is incorrectly described as turned, and fig. 33. T081 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit SF 37; 1: Carlisle - Annetwell St.; 2: Alnus; 3: round, carved scoop (fig. 5.24); 4: 105 to 120; 5: Caruana forthcoming a D 78. T082 0: Carlisle Archaeological Unit W133; 1: Carlisle - The Lanes; 2: wood; 3:rectangular, carved scoop (fig. 5.25); 4: Roman; 5: Padley forthcoming b K15. T083 0: Vindolanda W814; 1: Vindolanda; 2: wood; 3: incomplete artefact with a curved handle joining two bowls: a carved rectangular shallow one at one end and a (?)turned, round one at the other (fig. 5.26); 4: 120 to 140. T084 0: York Archaeological Trust 235; 1: York – Rougier St.; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: fragmentary carved spatula; 4: mid late 2nd. T085 0: MOL A 28069; 1: London - Walbrook; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: handle of a carved spatula with perforation and a crude incised ‘X’ (plate 8); 4: Roman. T086 0: LAARC 1325; 1: London - Roman Quay; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: carved spatula with shallow bowl and ornate handle (fig. 5.28); 4: 3rd; 5: Frere 1991, 270 fig. 21 and plate 29A. T087 0: MOL 21235; 1: London - Queen St.; 2: (?)Larix sp.; 3: carved spatula with hallow bowl and perforated handle (fig. 5.27); 4: preFlavian; 5: Wilmott 1982, 49 no. 3 and fig. 2. T088 0: LAARC 1329; 1: London - Roman Quay; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: carved spatula with shallow bowl and perforated handle (plate 10); 4: 3rd. T089 0: LAARC 237; 1: London - Roman Quay; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: shallow bowl of a carved spatula; 4: early 2nd. T090 0: MOL 12602; 1: London - Upper Thames St.; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: incomplete carved spatula with shallow bowl and perforated handle (plate 8); 4: Roman. T091 0: York Archaeological Trust SF 2164; 1: York - Tanner Row; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: carved spatula with shallow bowl (plate 10); 4: early to mid 3rd. T092 0: MOL 28.140.22; 1: London - Bank of England; 2: Buxus sempervirens; 3: carved spatula (plate 6); 4: 2nd

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Glossary of Latin names for wood-species/family used in the corpora Acer campestre Acer sp. Alnus sp. Betula sp. Buxus sp. Buxus Sempervirens Castanea Sativa Corylus Avellana Cornus Crategus sp. Fagus Fraxinus Excelsior Fraxinus sp. Juglans Regia Larix decidua Larix sp. Picea Abies Pomoideae Prunus sp. Pyrus Malus Pyrus Communis Quercus sp. Quercus suber Salicaceae Salix sp. Taxus Baccata Ulmus Viburnum opulus

Field Maple Maple Alder Birch Boxwood Common Box Sweet Chestnut Hazelnut Dogwood Hawthorn Beech Ash Ash Walnut European Larch Larch Common Norway Spruce Pomaceous fruit trees (e.g Apple, Pear, Hawthorn) Stone fruit trees Crab apple Wild Pear Oak Cork Willow Family Willow Yew Elm Guelder-rose

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Plate 1: Carlisle S001, S002, S003 – scale 1:4; Harlow S027 – scale 1:2; (drawings by the author); Castleford S028 - scale 1:3; (van Driel-Murray 1998, 303).

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Plate 2: London S010; Vindolanda S013, S015, S016, S017 - scale 1:4; (drawings by the author);Castleford S029 - scale 1:2; (van Driel-Murray 1998, 303).

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Plate 3: Beauport Park S008; Vindolanda S020, S021, S022, S023; London S024; Newstead S025 - scale 1:4; (drawings by the author).

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Plate 4: London P001, P002, P005, P009, P029, P035, P036,P038; Corbridge P012; Bar Hill P013; Carlisle P014, P015, P032; Vindolanda P019, P022, P023, P024, P027, P028 - scale 1:2; Vindolanda L002, L004 scale 2:3; (drawings by the author except *Corbridge P012 from Bishop and Dore 1988, 218).

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Plate: 5 London T004, T009 Vindolanda T011, T014, T015, T016 ; Carlisle T020; Burntwick Island T049 - scale 1:2; (drawings by the author except *Carlisle T020 from Caruana forthcoming a D65 and Burntwick island - drawing by Alexandra Todd, Maidstone Museum).

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Plate 6: London T039, T056, T057, T058,T059, T092 - scale 1:2; (drawings by the author).

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Plate 7: Farmoor T034 - scale 1:2; (*Lambrick and Robinson 1979, 59); Carlisle T075 - scale 1:2; (drawing by the author); Scole Dickleburgh T050, T051 - scale 1:4; (*Morris forthcoming b); Guernsey Wreck T065scale 1:4; (Rule and Monahan 1993 fig. 67.7).

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Plate 8: Vindolanda T064; Newstead T067 Castle Cary T068 London T061- scale 1:3; Guernsey wreck T066; Chew Valley Lake T073; London T085, T090 - scale 1:2; (drawings by the author except *Guernsey wreck T066 from Rule and Monahan 1993 fig. 67.4 and *Chew Valley Lake T073 from Rahtz and Greenfield 1977, 277).

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Plate 9: Carlisle T078 - scale 1:10; (Caruana 1992, 75 fig. 13); Carlisle T076 - scale 1:6; (Caruana forthcoming a D 76), London T079 - scale 1:6; (drawing by the author).

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Plate 10: Carlisle T072 - scale 1:2; (Caruana forthcoming a D79), T071 - scale 1:4; (Caruana forthcoming a D77); London T088; York T091 - scale 1:2; (drawings by the author).

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APPENDIX 2: MAIN ASSEMBLAGES OUTSIDE BRITAIN The section lists the main assemblages outside Britain discussed in the text (numbers refer to map I on page 3). Dates correspond to the dating of the contexts from which the artefacts considered have been retrieved. The list of artefacts covers wooden items of domestic use most of which have been discussed in the text. Vessels include bowls, plates and pyxides. Boxes include carved, jointed and bentwood items. Material from sites entered in bold has been personally inspected.

SITE 1 Altino (Italy) 2 Les Avrillages (France) 3 Avenches (Aventicum) (Switzerland) 4 Brauron (Greece) 5 Chalon sur Saône (France) 6 Compierre (France) 7 El Cigarralejo (Spain ) 8 Esch (The Netherlands) 9 Eschenz (Tasgetium) (Switzerland) 10 Feddersee Moor (Germany) 11 Feddersen Wierde (Germany) 12 Fortuna Maris (Italy) 13 Gulf of Fos (France)

DATE

CONTEXT

ARTEFACTS

LITERATURE

1st AD 1st AD

Urban Rural

Footwear/combs Footwear

Ferrarini 1992 Rialland 1989

2nd/early 3rd AD

Urban

Footwear/vessels

7th/5th BC

Temple

Vessels

La Tène/Roman

Rural

Footwear/ vessels/ spatulae

4th AD

Urban

Footwear

4th/2nd BC

Funerary

Vessels

3rd AD

Funerary

Footwear

1st/3rd AD

Urban

Combs/brushes/ vessels

Late Bronze Age/Halstatt 1st/3rd AD

Rural

Vessel

Rural

Vessels

Rieth 1940a; Rieth and Langenbacher 1954 Haarnagel 1979

1st BC

Wreck

Vessels/boxes

Desantis 1990, Berti 1990

Roman

Wreck

Vessels/serving implements/ combs Boxes/mirror boxes/vessels Boxes/vessels/ combs Vessels

Leffy 1990

Vessels

Rosenberg 1937

Combs/boxes/ vessels

Vaulina and Wasowicz 1974 Pinelli and Wasowicz 1986

14 Hawara (Egypt) Hellenistic and Roman 1st AD 15 Herculaneum (Italy) 3rd AD 16 Heddernheim (Nida) (Germany) late 4th BC 17 Hjortspring (Denmark) 18 Kertch (Russia) Hellenistic and Roman

Funerary Urban Urban Ritual deposit Funerary

170 170

Daux 1962

Bonneau et al. 1989, Aussaresses Bonneau 1987 Cuadrado 1968; Hundt 1968 Van den Hurk 1977 Van den Hurk 1980 Brem et al. 1999

Hampel 1997

19 Krefeld Gellep (Germany) 20 La Tène (Switzerland) 21 Les Martres de Veyre (France) 22 Mangalia (Romania) 23 Marseille (Massilia) (France)

mid 4th AD

Funerary

Vessel

Pirling 1979

3rd/1st BC

Vessels

Reginelli 1998

1st/2nd AD

Ritual deposit Funerary

Audollent 1922

4th AD

Funerary

Footwear/vessels/ comb Footwear

1st/2nd AD

Urban

Hesnard 1999

24 Montmaurin (France) 25 Novae (Bulgaria) 26 Oberwinterthur (Vitudurum) (Switzerland) 27 Oberflacht (Germany) 28 Pisa (Italy)

4th AD

Funerary

Vessels/spatulae/ serving implements/ combs Vessels

Roman

Funerary

Vessels

1st AD

Urban

Combs/vessels/ brushes/boxes

Fellmann 1991

Migration period 1st BC and 2nd AD 1st AD

Funerary

Vessels

Wreck

Footwear/combs

Paulsen 1992 Schiek 1992

Military

Combs

De Boë and Hubert 1977

1st AD

Wreck

Vessel

Colls et al.1977

late 2nd BC Hellenistic

Wreck Funerary

Vessels Vessels

Nicosia and Romualdi 1990

3rd AD

Military

Greiner 1999

3rd/4th AD

Urban

Vessel/ Figurine/Box Boxes

Roman

Military

Baatz 1999; Busch 1965

Late 2nd AD

Rural

Footwear/vessels/ boxes Footwear

Roman

Urban

Bead/vessels

7th BC Roman

Temple Funerary

Vessels Vessels

Kopke 1967

Hellenistic and Roman 3rd AD

Funerary Rural

Combs/boxes/ vessels Footwear

6th/5th BC

Funerary

Vessel

Vaulina and Wasowicz 1974 Pinelli and Wasowicz 1986 Coulthard and Montembault 2000 Kossack 1959

29 Pommereoul (Belgium) 30 Port Vendres II (France) 31 Pozzino (Italy) 32 Praeneste (Italy) 33 Rainau-Buch (Germany) 34 Rezé lès Nantes (Ratiatum) (France) 35 Saalburg (Germany) 36 St Germain en Montagne (France) 37 Saintes (Mediolanum) (France) 38 Samos (Greece) 39 Sistova (Bulgaria) 40 Taman (Russia) 41 Touffréville (France) 42 Uffing (Germany)

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R²dulescu et al. 1973

Fouét 1958

Aubin 1981

43 Valkenburg (The Netherlands) 44 Velsen 1 (The Netherlands) 45 Vechten (The Netherlands) 46 Vielle Toulouse (France) 47 Ville sur Retourne (France) 48 Vindonissa (Switzerland)

1st/3rd AD

Military

Combs/vessels/ footwear

Van Rijn 1993

1st AD

Military

Van Rijn 1995

Roman

Military

Vessels/footwear/ bead Footwear

1st BC

Funerary

Combs

Labrousse et al. 1976

3rd/4th AD

Funerary

Footwear

Frézouls 1981

1st AD

Military

49 Welzheim (Germany)

Roman

Military

Footwear/combs/ vessels/ spatulae/serving implements Footwear

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Verweij 1993

Van Driel-Murray and Hartmann 1999

APPENDIX 3: EXPERIMENTAL ARCHAEOLOGY Experimental archaeology has a long and illustrious history reaching back to the very inception of modern archaeological research. As early as the middle of the 19th century, archaeologists had turned to it in order to obtain more information about their finds. In 1872, John Evans published his experiments in making flint arrowheads and axes, in drilling and cutting stone and in wood and tree cutting. Later in the century General Pitt-Rivers, considered by some the father of modern scientific archaeology, was the first to test ancient digging implements (Fox A. Lane 1876) and to record the weathering and silting of ditches (PittRivers 1898, 24). This approach is now a recognised aid to interpretation of processes, features and artefacts observed and recovered in archaeological excavations. It is not the only one; archaeology has also relied for interpretation and understanding on ethnographical parallels, ancient 'primitive' practices, not to mention an ever-increasing battery of scientific tests. Experimental archaeology is inspired by an empirical approach whereby observations in the field and on artefacts, give rise to hypotheses: these are then tested under strict conditions and when the conclusions match the original theory, this is then strengthened. The hypothesis becomes a legitimate inference (Coles 1979, 243). Such legitimate inference does not pretend to be a reconstruction of what actually happened in the past and originated the evidence, but a possible scenario that has been tested and has produced results consistent with it. The approach is therefore about asking questions, finding answers and solutions: it is about investigating and Peter Reynolds (1999, 156) was absolutely justified in separating it from 'experiencing the past ' or being educated about it. The Butser Ancient Farm project of which he was the director, is not about bringing the past to life or living in it: it is about testing, by experiment, hypotheses formulated to explain features and observations made in the field at the time of excavation.

a set of rules. Materials and techniques should be in line with what would have been available to the society in question; the experiment should be repetitive and sufficient information made available to outsiders enabling others to replicate it. It ought to be conducted with a desired result in mind, but a ‘genuine uncertainty that the method adopted will succeed’. An open mind is certainly a prerequisite to learn from the experiment itself as it unfolds; the process may lead to modifying the original assumption and designing a different procedure. Finally, one set of successful experiments on its own cannot claim to provide absolute proof. Corroborative evidence must be sought from other experiments or from alternative sources. The claim therefore that experimental archaeology is inconclusive is ill founded; properly conducted experiments in archaeology do not, and should not claim to be conclusive. It is the cumulative body of evidence that may eventually supply a complete explanation. The experimental approach has been applied to a variety of research fields from food production to construction of buildings, to musical instruments. Some experiments have been self-contained activities: sailing on a balsa-wood raft from the western coast of South America to Polynesia (Heyerdahl 1950) is a well-known example. Other instances refer to long term projects. The Overton Down earthwork project (see page 5) monitoring the creation and development of the archaeological record, is now in its 40th year and is intended to be completed in 2182 (Jewell 1963, 24). Artefact studies have been served in an uneven way by the discipline. While stone tools manufacturing and use have been the object of research since very early times and metalwork has attracted sustained interest, other areas have only been patchily covered. The dearth of experiments with wood had already been highlighted by Coles in 1979 (Coles 1979, 107) and the situation has not improved much since, certainly not for small artefacts as distinguished from boats and building structures.

The experimental approach is by its very nature a practical, hands-on activity. It appeals to various individuals in different degrees: it certainly has a cohort of devotees judging from the sheer quantity and variety of documented activity in the area. It is not surprising therefore that it was felt necessary at some stage, to inject a degree of rigour in this burgeoning field. According to Coles (1973, 17ff) a valid experiment on ancient technologies must follow

The reasons for this situation are various. For a start wooden objects are few and have therefore a lower visibility than other items such as pottery, for instance. They also tend upon recovery to look rather unprepossessing and battered, a true shade of their former selves. This actually prompted the production

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of replicas with completely modern tools and procedures. Bulleid had a copy of the X2 container from Glastonbury made on a modern lathe (see page 135) and so did Naue for the Uffing cup (see page 130); equally at the Tullie Museum in Carlisle, a pristine needlecase can be seen next to the damaged Roman original. These are instances of simulation and not of experimental archaeology. They may capture the original appearance of the object, which is certainly a worthwhile aim, but achieve no more. The study of any artefacts does not however stop at the appreciation of their original appearance: it must

include craftsmanship and manufacturing techniques. These can be investigated by considering contemporary information in historic periods, modern comparable practices and by focusing on the artefacts themselves. Documentary information on the manufacture of Roman wooden domestic artefacts is extremely poor: with few exceptions, the material can be safely treated as prehistoric. Later comparable practices do exist in some cases (for the combs for instance) and have been investigated. The artefacts themselves do remain however the largest body of evidence.

THE EXPERIMENTAL PROGRAMME The programme has been set up with two main aims: to investigate manufacturing techniques and sequences of operations for combs, pyxides and needlecases and to study function for the wood-soled footwear. It is only by walking in a pair of soleae ligneae that one can appreciate how serviceable (or not) such a form of footwear may be. This is by no means a complete list of the classes of artefacts considered in this study: choices had to be made and they were based on a number of considerations. It was felt that for carved material be it troughs, bowls or scoops, an experiment would have proved nothing more than that I could find someone to do it for me: there is no new information to be gained. Conversely, the prospect of making a bentwood container proved quite daunting since the starting point is a fine sheet of wood of a suitable species approximately 300mm wide and 900mm long. Larger turned material such as bowls and plates were also not included in the programme for a combination of reasons: shortage of time and problems with the variety of wood-species used. The corpus of turned vessels from Britain shows a great variety in the choice of the raw material. It was unpractical to experiment with all the wood-species and probably pointless to focus on one of them. Moreover, the subject had been already covered by Morris in her study of Anglo-Saxon and medieval turned artefacts (Morris 1984). It was also felt more important to concentrate efforts on a precise category of small, lidded artefacts, the manufacture of which is more challenging and has not yet been the object of close scrutiny.

The immediate benefit of the experimental approach is an enhanced knowledge of the artefacts themselves: this has to be so for a correct design of the experiment. The evidence from the artefacts is not new: it has always been there for anyone to see, but has been to some extent overlooked. It can only be deplored for instance, that many small lidded wooden containers have been described as ‘turned’ without making a clear distinction between the outer surface (which is comparatively easy to do) and the more complex work on the inside, since hollowing can either be done by drilling or turning or scraping or by a combination of all. Equally, Roman wood-soled footwear is regularly classed as overshoes in spite of the fact that a close examination of its morphology appears to suggest otherwise. Such benefit was almost outweighed by a number of practical hurdles at the onset of the programme. The first one was the raw material. It would be almost pointless to embark on experimenting with Roman domestic woodwork without a good supply of boxwood: this was the material of choice at the time. Although this species is present in Britain it is not easily available; moreover, the material was required in both seasoned and unseasoned state. The first batch of timber was kindly supplied by the University of Exeter Gardening Department. After part of it was lost in the floods, additional supplies had to be secured for the manufacturing of the needlecases. All experimental combs and turned artefacts were made in boxwood; it proved unfortunately unpractical to repeat the experiments with alternative woodspecies known to have been used for the same

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purpose in antiquity, willow, elm or hazel for pyxides for example, and wood from conifers and fruit trees for combs. The second problem was a question of skills. Most artefacts required a level of craftsmanship which could not be mastered by this author in the short time available. It proved more fruitful to enlist the assistance of someone with an eye for low technology solutions and years of experience in woodworking. Andrew Barkla, an Exeter based amateur turner, was involved in the experimental part of this research from the onset, contributing much-needed practical advice and handiwork especially for turned items. His assistance was also invaluable for discussing ideas and hypotheses, for thinking through sequences and processes and is most gratefully acknowledged. The two main parameters for this experimental programme are the assumed level of technology and the choice of tools. In the complete absence of any specific evidence, the lowest level of technology to achieve a given result was chosen; so for instance, hollowing on the lathe was done between two points since it proved possible. All tools used are of modern manufacture. There is no shortage of Roman tools in the archaeological record (Gaitzsch 1980) and indeed some of them may have been used for turning, though it cannot be proven. Unfortunately once divorced from their original context, turner’s chisels and gouges look very much like any woodworker’s chisels and gouges. The only known set of possible turner’s tools can unfortunately no longer be traced. It consisted of a group found in 1876 in the atrium of house 39, insula 14, regio VI in Pompei (Mau 1878, 96). The assemblage included fifteen iron chisels 150 to 350mm long, two wooden uprights each with an iron spike interpreted by Mau (ibid.) as part of a lathe and a sharpening stone. Later, Dalla Corte (1965, 84) linked the finds to the inscription on a copper alloy seal from the same house (CIL X 8058.7) and suggested this was the workshop of a ‘Axius Gun[...]’, a Roman turner. Unfortunately, there is nothing to support this hypothesis. Tools of modern manufacture were therefore chosen to produce a specific result. When none was available, the required implement was manufactured to achieve a given shape. So, for instance, the instrument for hollowing out pyxides

was cut by Ian King, an ivory-worker from London, on the basis of the evidence provided by the artefacts. The most important tool however, is by far the lathe and in the absence of any evidence either from the iconography or from literature of what a Roman lathe looked like, a number of assumptions had to be made. All the turning was carried out with the artefacts sustained between two points: there is no evidence for chucks or for open-face lathes in antiquity and none of the artefacts required that more advanced technology. The use of reciprocal motion was preferred to continuous motion even if Mutz advocated the latter for the process of finishing metal objets and the experimental lathe he built looked well within the range of what a Roman carpenter could achieve (Mutz 1972, 29). A reciprocating lathe operated by a strap or a cord is even simpler to construct and proved perfectly adequate for the purpose at hand. The experimental programme covers the manufacturing of specific objects i.e. combs, pyxides, needlecases and wood-soled footwear: it proposes for each of them manipulations and procedures consistent with the available evidence.

COMBS This section deals with the manufacturing process of the simplest form of H combs. Terminals and central bar are both plain. It is not intended to achieve high standards of workmanship. The aim has been to understand as much as possible of the process involved in preparing the blank, cutting the teeth and finishing the artefact. The evidence draws on both ancient sources (Roman iconography and the artefacts themselves) and capitalises on the innate conservatism of the industry. The craft of combmaking for whatever material (ivory, horn or wood) has not changed much up to 1850 when the first teeth-cutting machines were introduced (Cruse 1997, 2). The industry was then completely transformed with the introduction of plastics in the late 1890s. Post-medieval techniques and tools relating to combmaking are known and have been described in Holtzapffel (1856, 684 and 723ff); traditional combmaker’s tools can be viewed at the Musée du Peigne at Ézy sur Eure in Normandy.

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Fig. 1 Tools used in the manufacture of the experimental combs; (Photo E. Francis).

Fig. 2 The experimental cutting of grooves on a piece of boxwood and the tool used for the purpose; (Photo E. Francis).

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THE TOOLS

The tools (fig. 1) employed for the replica work are all of modern manufacture. They are: • • • • •

Rasp: Stanley Sureform shaver 21-115. Fret saw: 140mm x 93mm; Blade: Eclipse W1 (0.99mm wide; 0.36mm thick; 18 teeth per 20mm). Small tenon saw: Crown tools; blade 100mm x 36mm; 17 teeth per 20mm. Teeth for both saws must be set. Paring and scraping knife: Stanley knife, blade 1992. Needle files.

All combs were cut in boxwood since that was clearly the favoured material in antiquity because of its close grain and smooth texture. Both seasoned and unseasoned wood was experimented with. PROCEDURE

The process of making a comb includes the five steps: cutting and shaping the blank, carving the decoration, cutting the teeth, filing and finishing. Cutting and shaping the blank. There is only one instance of comb blanks of Roman date. They come from Altino in north-eastern Italy and have a 1st century AD date (Ferrarini 1992); they presumably belong to a combmaking factory. The 59 boxwood artefacts show combs at various stages of the manufacturing process from the blank to the finished product. Typically a blank is a rectangular piece of wood some 70-80mm long, 50-60mm wide and 10mm thick, though the assemblage does include a much thicker one (16mm). The grain runs parallel to the short side of the rectangle. These measurements conformed to the material from Roman Britain and the blanks were prepared accordingly. Given the length of the blanks and the limited size of a box tree trunk (not often over 150mm in diameter), the blanks were prepared from a double radial section starting from a billet sawn to the required width. Boxwood lends itself to this approach because it has no pith and is extremely homogeneous. This procedure contrasts with the single-sided, late Neolithic comb from Clairvaux (Petrequin 1988, 112) which was prepared from a simple radial section. Its shape is different though: this comb is narrow and tall. The lack of suitable saws also suggests that Neolithic combs were prepared from cleft sections. Experimental splitting of boxwood showed that the result did not compare favourably with sawing.

Box, both seasoned and fresh, splits very unpredictably; moreover the blanks manufactured by cleaving the wood had no parallel sides and the surfaces were very uneven. Sawing was not a particularly hard task. The resulting surfaces were very smooth. It is possible that some smaller combs were prepared from tangential sections; this would have enabled the craftsman to make the most of a comparatively large billet. Vindolanda C047 shows signs of cupping, i.e. developing a slightly dished section when drying up; the problem may be related to this practice. After sawing the bark was removed from the short edges and the surface pared with the Stanley knife. The blank was then shaped with the rasp and the long sides thinned to a point. In most combs the central area remained flat. The reason for the shape will become apparent later when cutting the teeth. Sawn boxwood proved very easy to scrape in any direction of the grain. It never splintered and the resulting surface was very good. The use of a plane did not seem appropriate since the artefact was comparatively small and was held in the hand during operations. Even a very small plane (Whitmore no. 110, 150mm long with a blade 40mm wide) proved useless. Both rasp and plane were tried on cleft wood but the process was not successful at all. Decoration. Any decorative features would be executed at this stage. Sunken cordons and grooves were cut experimentally on a separate piece of boxwood (fig. 2). Cutting the teeth. Functional guidelines to mark the base of the teeth could be easily scratched with a nail; it was necessary, on the other hand, to use a vice to cut the teeth from end to end regularly. The vice, known in the trade as the ‘clam’, is the only known combmaker’s tool from Roman times; it appears on CIL V 7569 from Asti (ancient Hastae) in north-western Italy. This stele, dedicated to T. Valerius Placidus, refector pectinarius, and erected by his mother, is now lost. It is known through a photograph executed by the German Institute in Rome from which the line drawing shown in fig. 3 is derived and has been described in the relevant CIL entry. The picture is not particularly good; the few lines accompanying the inscription in the publication proved, on the other hand, extremely useful since they included a sketch of the instrument that T. Valerius Placidus is holding in his left hand. It is argued here that it is a clam, an instrument which has

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Fig 3 Left: Line drawing of the stele commemorating T. Valerius Placidus (see picture page 25) and below the tool he is holding in his left hand as it appears in CIL V 7569. Right: A modern combmaker showing how the short-handled clam is used on one's lap; (Bowers 1987, 20. Photo Keystone Press).

Fig. 4 The modern combmakers' clam at Ézy Museum; (Photo Musée du Peigne Ézy-sur-Eure).

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been used by combmakers ever since and can be seen today in the Ézy Museum (fig. 4). As the figure shows, the clam at Ézy Museum is fitted with a long handle because the operator sits astride a specially constructed workbench. The clam Valerius Placidus is holding has only a very short handle. It is suggested that, while in the stele the combmaker was represented with the clam, the symbol of his profession, held upright, he would normally have worked on his lap. The scene on the stele shows some form of padding in that area, possibly a piece of leather. The footstool which is visible by the table would be convenient to raise the legs and facilitate working in that position.

surface of the comb and have the handle of the saw almost touching the clam. The thickness of the blank may therefore be dictated by the necessity of carrying out the operation maintaining a steep angle so as to avoid sawing through the clam itself.

The purpose of the clam is to grip the comb on the flat central area so that the teeth can be cut leaving both hands free (figs 3 and 5). Experimentally, the clam proved unsuitable in shaping and smoothing the blank. The experimental clam was manufactured in pine, perhaps not the ideal choice. It buckled at the thinned ends; as a result they did not meet properly and the grip was not always perfect. It was however possible to get around the problem by padding the comb with a small piece of paper. In Roman times teeth were cut with a saw with an iron blade. A bronze saw ‘leaves woolly and rounded cutting at the root of the teeth’ as Flinders Petrie (1927, 25) noted for earlier Egyptian artefacts. No known combmaker’s saws have survived from Roman times therefore the shape of the implement is inferred from the combs themselves and from tools of later date (Holtzapffel 1856, 684 and 723ff). The cutting takes place from both sides and is best explained in a diagram (fig. 6). This conclusion has a bearing on the shape of a suitable implement. When cutting, it is paramount to keep the blade perpendicular to the surface of the blank. This is not at all easy. The blade for the fine teeth has to be very thin and it tends to buckle and bend; a suitable blade would have to be wide and taut. A small bow-saw with a handle is a possibility. Otherwise the blade could have a form of backing; in that case it needs to be at least some 15-20mm wide to reach the base of the teeth. One possible solution is setting the blade in a wooden stock and the resulting implement would look very much like the stadda (the double-bladed saw used in more recent times for the cutting of evenly spaced teeth - Holtzapffel 1856, 684 and figs 703 and 704) but with only one blade (fig. 7). In order to achieve a regular cut it proved useful, at the start, to rest the entire length of the blade on the

Fig. 5 The diagram of the clam. The artefact is made of two pieces of wood connected in the centre by a length of metal. The comb is inserted at one end and the grip is made taught with a wedge on the other side; (drawing by the author). The fineness of the teeth is often remarked upon. A density of 20 teeth per 20mm means that each tooth is c 0.5mm thick since the teeth are normally clearly spaced. Experimentally it was not particularly difficult to achieve that sort of figure, but it was impossible to sustain it beyond a few cuts. A lot of practice and a better implement (i.e. a fine saw with a wide blade) must be the answer: the fret saw with its narrow blade is clearly not right. The maximum density for Roman wooden combs is in the region of 27-29 teeth per 20mm (Carlisle C106 is burnt and the count of 34 teeth per 20mm is not reliable); it was achieved by eye as none of the combs I have seen is faultless. This density compared not too unfavourably with medieval and later specimen; according to Pinto (1952, 176) the use of the stadda allowed densities up to 32 per 20mm. Mechanised cutting has achieved a staggering 60 teeth per 20mm for ivory (Bowers 1987, 22).

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Experimental work has shown that, in most instances, thinning the coarse teeth with a Stanley knife first and then smoothing the surface with needle files with a round or a triangular section, would have been roughly adequate for the shapes observed. The use of alternative filing, smoothing and cleaning agents such as sharkskin (Pliny’s squatina Nat. Hist. 9, 40) and of silica-rich grasses, cannot be ruled out. According to R. Watts (pers. comm.) these were used until quite recently in Japan in the process of boxwood combmaking.

Fig. 6 Diagram showing the cutting of a tooth from both sides of the comb; (drawing by the author). The coarse teeth were not cut with the same blade as the fine ones for the following reason. After cutting, the coarse teeth need shaping. It was noted that while the fine teeth were flexible, the coarse ones were extremely unwieldy and it was impossible to get in between them either with a file or the blade of a paring knife, should the gap be too narrow. A coarser saw blade must have been used. Experimentally, the small tenon saw shown on fig. 1 proved very suitable. In order to achieve any density lower than 5-6 teeth per 20mm, two separate cuts to define each space between the teeth were required (e.g. Bath C129 still showing the two saw marks). The space was cleaned out with a narrow chisel. In the case of London C152 that has very fine and wellspaced teeth (6 per 20mm), the chisel used to clean out the gap was too narrow and the ridges at the base of the teeth are still apparent. Finally, the operation consisting of the removal of the inverted V section at the base of the teeth known in the trade as ’bottoming the teeth’ was known of but rarely carried out. Filing. Teeth must be separated and cleaned of sawdust. Very little if any filing was done on fine teeth, while the coarse ones were thinned, tapered to a blunt point and the edges were smoothed (note that for the very coarse teeth Bath C127 for example, the operation was performed with a paring knife only; fig. 2.7). Recent developments in the craft have resulted in a variety of files with evocative names (e.g. niggler and topper) each destined to the different sections of the teeth (see Bowers 1987, annexe A).

Finishing. Boxwood was prized for its delicate hue. The wood had therefore to be protected and nourished. A few drops of olive oil were worked in the experimental combs for this purpose: they removed all the sawdust and brought out all the natural beauty of the wood. CONCLUSIONS

The experimental making of a boxwood comb supports the following concluding remarks. Combs can be made with both seasoned and fresh material; the process of preparing the blank shows no appreciable difference. However, it must be noted that cutting teeth on unseasoned material produces large quantities of sawdust which obscures the view of the operator. The presence of impressed maker’s names (see page 19) also suggests the cutting of blanks in unseasoned wood. Boxwood could be impressed at this stage either with a metal die or with a implement made out of seasoned boxwood cut in the grain. Boxwood billets are notoriously difficult to season as they tend to split. It is possible therefore that the blanks were prepared as the material became available and allowed to dry out before any further work. Teeth were then cut on seasoned material. This sequence accounts for the presence of perforation on some combs’ terminals: fresh blanks were strung up and hung to season in a cool and dark environment. Combs blanks were normally prepared with the grain running parallel to the teeth. It is assumed that the reason for this practice is to impart strength to the teeth. In order to test this hypothesis a couple of combs were cut with the grain running orthogonally to the direction of the teeth. The resulting blanks were extremely difficult to shape and smooth with the rasp: box in the grain is really quite hard. The teeth were no problem to cut and they turned out to be adequate.

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Fig. 7 Diagram of a possible Roman combmaker’s saw; (drawing by the author)

Fig. 8 The experimental combs - scale 100mm; (photo E. Francis). The choice of grain direction makes little difference to the teeth; it is a function of the tools available for paring and smoothing the blank. In conclusion, given the right tools, a delicate, steady hand and some practice, cutting a comb is not an impossible proposition for a beginner as long as one does not set one’s aims too high (fig. 8).

as ivory, bone and horn. The basic instruments and techniques would have been the same.

A number of the plain artefacts considered in this review were not necessarily the output of highly sophisticated workshops.

The purpose of the experimental footwear was twofold. First, it was crucial to assess the complexity of the manufacturing process and to investigate the sort of tools required. Secondly, and more importantly, it was deemed necessary to have a set of each of the main styles of wooden soles, i.e. with a vamp and with straps between the toes, to investigate their performance. The shape of the sole was taken from Vindolanda S016 (plate 2), which was in size the closest to the author’s. The solea was planned marginally thicker (45mm) to

Carpenters, cabinetmakers or indeed makers of shuttles, spindles and whorls (Diocletian Price Edict 13) might have made combs on the side. On the other hand, the presence of maker’s names, decorated artefacts and of some outstanding pieces does suggest that wooden combs were made in specialised workshops alongside artefacts in other materials such

FOOTWEAR SOLEA LIGNEA TYPE A1 (fig. 9)

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account for wear on the stilts. Size, positioning and shape of the uppers were determined by nails and nail holes present in comparative archaeological material (the uppers’ shape was taken from Vindolanda S014, fig. 3.26). Ash was used because of its availability as a whole tree trunk. Soles in ash are known from Britain (e.g. London S010), from the German Limes (e.g. Velsen 1 no. C0-6r and the Saalburg nos 641 and 644) and at Vindonissa. The trunk was sawn into a billet of the required length which was then split in two halves with a small axe. These were reduced to the appropriate

thickness with the same tool. The shape of the blank was marked on each section and the blanks were sawn with a frame saw. The flesh side (the side which is in contact with the sole of the foot) of each blank was smoothed with a rasp, the very same that can be seen among the tools used to manufacture the combs (fig. 1). A pad at the heel and stilts at the front (in this case triangular in shape) were cut on the underside with a tenon saw. The redundant material between the stilts was prised out with a screwdriver. The upper was made in cowhide and was nailed to a tight fit with 25mm steel tacks.

Fig. 9 The experimental solea lignea style A1 - scale 100m;m (photo E. Francis).

The experimental solea lignea style B2 – scale 100mm (photo E. Francis)

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The purpose of making a second solea was only to be able to walk in it. The manufacturing process therefore was not repeated. The solea was constructed from an old pair of Dr. Scholl clogs. Transverse stilts were screwed on. Applied, as opposed to sawn stilts, were apparently not used in Roman times but are known from more recent comparable material where they are fixed with dowels (e.g. Turkish or Japanese wooden footwear). The chosen upper was made in one piece as shown in the bronzes from the lararium ar Montorio (fig. 3.16): the outline of the reconstructed upper is shown in the same picture. The upper in cowhide was nailed to the sole for a tight fit through the perforation at the front and on the sides. Fine nails were used to avoid splitting the seasoned wood. Both pairs of soleae were used by the author on a variety of terrain. This included gravel, grass, hard surfaces and an unmade muddy lane. After some time spent to getting used to the stilts, both designs proved comfortable to wear and afforded good protection. Type A, hugging the foot very closely, proved to be marginally better than type B in which the foot has more play. Both performed quite adequately on uneven and muddy ground (especially if the alternative was to go barefoot) with the stilts providing a good grip. The experimental

manufacturing of the soleae of both types also proved that the process required no great skill. Even matching the soleae is not an absolute requirement. This author's soleae did not match in width but the problem was obviated by a careful fitting of the upper.

PYXIDES PRELIMINARY REMARKS

The experimental turning that is part of this research concentrated on pyxides (fig. 11) and on needlecases (see below). It was conducted on a purposelyconstructed lathe in which the material was held between two pointed metal rods known as poppets. As fig. 12 shows, on one side of the lathe the rod is bent; this allows the operator to access the object from two different positions: perpendicular to axis of rotation (A) and parallel to it (B). This lathe design is consistent with observations on turned material of Roman date. Spindle or core scars are very often apparent at both ends of the turned material, showing it was turned between two points. On the other hand, some of the inner surfaces observed are too straight and sharp angled to have been turned from a position orthogonal to the axis of rotation. These inner surfaces can only be achieved by working on the object while holding the hollowing tools parallel the axis of rotation.

Fig. 11 The experimental pyxides and the tool used - scale 20mm; (photo e. Francis).

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are seldom apparent and not specific enough), but selected so as to produce the required shape. The pyxis with the conical base was chosen for the experimental programme as it is the prevalent type in Britain (fig. 4.21). Since the bulk of the evidence consists mainly of the finished product (there is quite understandably no turning waste, fig. 13), and rejects, such as possibly London P026, are very rare, the sequencing was devised to reproduce that shape. It is not intended to describe how things were done but how they might have been done, with a given level of technology. THE RAW MATERIAL

Fig. 12 Schematic representation of the lathe used in the experimental manufacturing of the pyxides; the blank is mounted and the strap is wrapped around it. (A) shows the position of the turner operating in front of the lathe: tools are held perpendicular to the axis of rotation. (B) shows the position of the turner on the side of the lathe: tools are held parallel to the axis of rotation. As intimated earlier, it was decided to use reciprocating in preference to continuous motion; the latter may have been used for metalware as Mutz suggested, but there is no evidence that pyxides or needlecases required that technique. Moreover, both items are comparatively small in diameter: the choice of motion should not make any difference. It was postulated that, since there is no evidence at all for the existence of the pole lathe in Roman times, reciprocating motion would be imparted with a strap made of cloth, cord or leather wrapped around the object and operated by an assistant. Practical arrangements, however, had to be made. After the lathe was constructed and tested, it became apparent that co-ordinating the action of the turner and of the assistant was no simple matter and was going to be a time-consuming exercise: it was therefore decided to rig a treadle onto the lathe. As a result the work was carried out on a reciprocating lathe operated by a pedal. In these conditions the turner found it easier to synchronise the positioning of the tool with the rotation of the object. In the absence of recognisable turning tools of Roman date, all material used was modern both in conception and manufacture. The instruments used were chosen not according to turning marks (which

Boxwood was the obvious choice. There is no way of knowing whether the Roman turner used seasoned or unseasoned wood. Experimentally, seasoned wood proved very hard to hollow on a hand-operated lathe. As explained before (page 69) it is normally recommended to steam or boil seasoned boxwood prior to turning. The procedure was tried out and did not prove very beneficial as the material remained exceedingly hard, moreover some of it split in the process. The wood stored in moving waters proved a much better alternative. It was used straight from the stream. The artefact was turned in two stages leaving a gap of a few weeks to allow for any seasoning adjustments before the completion of the process. In modern practice, in which boxwood is turned on powerful apparatus, the material is used in the seasoned state; the process is referred to as ‘scraping’ rather than turning because it produces dust rather than shavings (Holtzapffel 1881, 294). The technique is akin to ivory turning and requires a specific positioning of the turning tool. The material employed in this experimental process behaved like any wood; it did not produce dust but perfect shavings. PROCEDURE (fig. 14)

Most British pyxides of any wood were manufactured from sections of a branch. The blank was therefore taken from a section of a branch long enough to accommodate a lid, a body, a spindle at both ends and some space in between. The total length was in the region of 110mm. A straight segment of a branch of that length with no flaws (e.g. knots) may not always be available, especially in boxwood because of the nature of the material; in that case two separate lengths may be used.

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Fig. 13 One of the experimental pyxides and the turning waste generated - scale 20mm; (photo E. Francis)

Fig. 14 Diagram of the turning of a pyxis. (A), (B) and (C) the blank is mounted, lid and body are defined and roughly hollowed. (D) and (E) the hollowing is completed leaving a core; flanges are cut and the spindle is reduced. The two components of the pyxis are separated by sawing the spindle; (F) the core of the body is snapped off and (G) the two halves are tested for a fit;(H) adjustments to improve the fit can be done on the lid flange; (I) the lid core is snapped.and (L) the item is assembled and turned as one object. Finally (M) the core scar in the body is cleaned out; (drawing by the author).

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The billet was roughed out with a draw-knife first and then turned to a cylinder with the gouge and the flat chisel (fig. 14a). The lid and the body were marked out and defined, leaving a spindle c 10mm diameter between them. The body was partly hollowed from the side of the lathe where the poppet is bent (fig. 14b). The piece was then reversed and the same process was carried out on the lid (fig. 14c). The artefact was left for a few weeks in a cool, dark place to season. It was remounted to complete the hollowing process and cut the flanges on both lid and body. The middle portion of the spindle was thinned (fig. 14d and 14e). The lid and the body were separated by sawing the spindle and the core was twisted off from the body; the pyxis was closed to test the fitting of the flanges (fig. 14f and 14g). It proved impossible experimentally to cut matching flanges on the lid and on the body simply by measuring; it was better to test the two elements of the pyxis and make the necessary adjustments. At this point, the body and the lid could be mounted separately if need be for adjustments on the flanges. When flanges had been perfected, the core of the lid was reduced as much as possible and snapped (fig. 14i). The complete pyxis was remounted for a final finish of the outer surface and for a maximum reduction of the lid spindle (fig. 14l). This was snapped and the spindle on the base was sawn off. The scars inside the base of the body and on both sides of the lid were made good by a touch of the drill (fig. 14m).

All the operations following the roughing out of the cylinder were carried out with the one instrument only, the shape of which had been postulated by considering the inner profile of the body (figs 11, 15 and 4.21). This instrument cut the base, the lid and the flanges, did the hollowing and smoothed both the inner and outer surfaces of the body to a very good finish. It could even be used to make good the core scar inside the body although using a drill looked a better choice. Finally the finished pyxis was oiled with a small quantity of olive oil which improved both its appearance and feel. The finished artefact was stored in a cool, dry place; it has not shown any shrinkage or alteration in shape.

NEEDLECASES The experimental manufacture of needlecases was carried out to test the observations made on the objects themselves and on related artefacts. The purpose was not to make a replica. Indeed, the end product (fig. 16) was far from perfect and this was due to the relative inexperience of the operators and to practical constraints. While it was deemed worthwhile to spend time in designing, constructing and improving the drill, for most of the other tools (i.e. drill bits and turning tools) it was decided to rely on what was readily available. Ancient craftsmen would have been able to work in close co-operation with blacksmiths to design, manufacture and modify tools to specific requirements. Unfortunately, such resource was not available for this particular project except in a few, but crucial, instances. EQUIPMENT AND TOOLS

Fig. 15 The tool of modern manufacture used for the turning of all surfaces of the lid and of the body of the experimental pyxides; the dotted line indicates the cutting edge - scale 1:2; (drawing by the author).

The drill and the lathe are the two main pieces of equipment. The lathe is the same one used for the pyxides. It was set up with two uprights of the same height. The turning was entirely carried out with the operator standing in front of the lathe and holding the tools at a right angle to the axis of the revolving object. The drilling apparatus consists of a drill bit held in a metal shaft and operated by a transverse handle (fig. 4.46). The apparatus is set in a wooden frame held together by nails and glue. A scale drawing (fig. 17) best explains the complete structure. The purpose of the construction is to hold the drill vertical and minimise any sideways movements. Four blocks of wood nailed on the sleeper define a slot in which sits the blank ready for drilling. The centre of

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The handle grip of both drill bits was filed to fit tightly into the slot manufactured at one end of the hollow metal shaft in the drill.

Fig. 16 The experimental needlecase - scale 20mm; (photo E. Francis). the slot is marked by a short metal spike and is in line with the tip of the drill bit.

Fig. 17 The diagram of the drill used for the manufacturing of the experimental needlecase; the arrows indicate the metal plates - scale c 1:8; (drawing by the author).

Preliminary tests revealed that the vertical alignment of the drilling apparatus was far from satisfactory. Although the perforated cross-pieces designed to keep the drill shaft vertical had been manufactured in hardwood (the rest of the structure is in softwood), there was still too much play. The performance of the drill was substantially improved by tightening up the alignment of the perforations with the assistance of two metal plates fixed with nails and indicated with arrows in fig. 17. Two spoon bits of different sizes, both of modern manufacture, were used for the hollowing (fig. 18). They are both quite distinctive because of their straight shape and the very long cutting edge (marked on the drawing with a dotted line). While the Roman spoon bit from Niederbieber (fig. 4.37) is a suitable parallel for the smaller of the two, the artefact retrieved from a context of Roman date at Chassey in northern Gaul (Frémont 1913, 75 fig. 160) and now at the Archaeological Museum in St. Germain (no. 6359) is remarkably similar in shape and size to the larger one.

Fig. 18 The two spoon bits of modern manufacture used for the hollowing of the body and of the cover of the experimental needlecase - scale 1:2; (drawing by the author).

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Fig 19 The tools used for the experimental needlecase including in the foreground the wooden pegs (photo E. Francis).

Fig 20 The flat chisel (left) and the roughing gauge (right) both tools of modern manufacture, used for the turning of the replica needlecase - scale 1:3; (drawing by the author). The transverse handle fits through perforations at the other end of that same shaft. The turning was carried out with whatever tools were available (fig. 19 and 20). Only one (fig. 21), used to undercut the flange of the lid, was manufactured on purpose and was filed until it performed adequately. PROCEDURE

Two blanks, parallelepipeds in shape with a square section with a 35mm side, 120mm and 100mm tall respectively, were prepared out of a billet of unseasoned boxwood some 110mm in diameter. The billet had been sawn to the appropriate length and

then halved. The blanks were worked with a small axe; great care was taken to ensure that the base was flat and perpendicular to the sides. After the centres of the bases were determined by drawing diagonal lines, these were all marked with a shallow, drilled perforation. Apart from the use of different size drills, the procedure for hollowing the blanks is the same for both elements of the needlecase. The blank was placed in the nest on the sleeper of the frame; the spike at the centre of the nest was inserted in the perforation at the base of the blank. The blank was then secured in place with wooden wedges. The alignment of the blank to the axis of the drill was checked for accuracy. The drill bit was positioned on the perforation marked on the top of the blank. The perforation acts as a starting hole and ensures that the tip of the drill bit bites in the right place straight away. The hollowing was performed by rotating the drill with the transverse metal handle and applying considerable force. The pressure applied did create a new problem since the blank tended to move with the drill thereby dislodging the blocks forming the nest. For this reason, the nest construction was strengthened by nailing a leather strap all around it; it can be see in fig. 4.46. The drilling was carried out in stages. Shavings and dust had to be regularly removed and the blank had to be allowed to cool. Test drilling on unseasoned boxwood had shown that hollows 25mm deep could

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be made in less than 10 minutes. The narrow drill bit was used on the taller blank destined to be the body of the case. It bore a perforation 76mm deep. The wider bit was used for the cover to the depth of 77mm. Both drill bits were used to their maximum capacity which is more than the length of the cutting edge and included the portion of the narrow neck that does not fit into the metal shaft holder.

Fig. 21 Front and top views of the tool of modern manufacture shown on fig 19 and used for the shaping of the flange of the lid of the experimental needlecase - scale 1:1; (drawing by the author). The perforations obtained with this procedure were straight and adequate in profile; they required no further work. It was not deemed necessary for the larger perforation i.e. the one in the cover, to conduct the operation in two separate phases. Only in one instance, namely Vindolanda P030 the inner profile of the cover, showing a dip at the base (fig. 4.45), suggests that a narrower tool was first used all the way and that the perforation was subsequently enlarged to the required size. Experimentally the use of a large drill did not appear to be a problem although the blank did become quite warm and the cutting process was extremely noisy. After drilling the blanks were pared to a round shape with a sharp blade to prepare them for the lathe. Two turned wooden pegs with slightly tapering profiles were inserted into the perforations (figs 19 and 22). The blanks were then mounted on the lathe. They

were centred at one end with the poppet marks on the pegs and, at the other, at the centres originally marked on the blanks. The procedure was intended to ensure that the turning of the outside surfaces of both artefacts was coaxial with their inner surfaces. The cover was turned first to a thickness of 5mm, using the roughing gouge to start with and then flat chisel (fig. 20). The flange was defined and worked with the same kink shown on Vindolanda P030 (fig. 4.45). The body was mounted and worked with the roughing gouge; the two areas i.e. lid and shank, were defined and the latter was narrowed to a diameter of 19mm. The surface was smoothed with the flat chisel. The lid flange was manufactured with a tool (figs 19 and 21) designed especially for undercutting from the front of the lathe. It was felt that working from the side, as is the case for hollowing pyxides, was not an option because the tool required would have been long and narrow and may have snapped under the strain. The undercutting tool had to be filed several times and eventually produced a flange 2mm thick and 11mm deep. It was noted that the area of the shank beneath the lid of the body did not turn to a smooth surface but remained rough like in all needlecases examined. Cover and body were tested for a fit and, when it was satisfactory, the beads, five in all, were turned on the shank. At this point, the two parts were assembled and the artefact was mounted as one object for the finishing of the outer bases. It was thought preferable to use combined turning and not mount the pieces separately for the turning of the bases because of a problem with the flange of the cover. It had become apparent at this point that the flange (1-2mm thick) was beginning to develop a hairline crack: inserting a peg and mounting the cover on the lathe was asking for trouble. Working the two element of the artefact as one item, as is the case in combined turning, allowed the operator to turn the ends to 7mm spindles. These were then sawn off. A little olive oil was worked into the surface of the finished needlecase. The whole procedure was conducted in three stages over a period of several weeks because of practical considerations and the unfinished parts of the artefact were kept in a plastic bag in a cool, dark place between operations to prevent them from drying out. FINAL REMARKS

The experimental manufacture of needlecase suggests the following remarks.

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The drilling and the centring procedure on the lathe were certainly adequate to produce the required coaxial surfaces. Both parts of the modern needlecase may eventually be marginally thicker than the original ones (though it is difficult to assess that as these may have shrunk over the centuries) but the problem lay with the turning tools. The roughing gouge and flat chisel were certainly too big and unsuited for the precision craftsmanship required. This also showed in the manufacturing of the beads on the shank of the body; the operation resulted in the almost total obliteration of the rough surface at the top end of the shank.

vary considerably from very little for some, to highly specialised for others. It seems that almost any woodworker could tackle the manufacture of combs and of wood-soled footwear, at least in their simplest expression; on the other hand, while pyxides required more skills and equipment, needlecases must have been the realm of the true specialist and were particularly labour intensive.

Secondly, while the two sections fitted adequately, there was no grip. It was relatively easy to turn the flange of the cover with the kink, but there was very little control on the shape of the top end of the shank and the underside of the lid of the body. This area was worked in the first instance to produce a fit; it would have required a much more precise kind of craftsmanship to achieve both the fit and the tight grip, if this is at all possible. The wood showed very little movement between operations though it certainly seasoned quite rapidly after hollowing. The process produced an insignificant amount of distortion. Three weeks after completion, the two parts still have a perfectly adequate fit although they have gone very slightly oval. The distortion cannot be seen to the naked eye but can be experienced when trying to fit the drill bits into their respective hollows. Judging by the performance of the experimental pyxides which are thicker and showed very little movement over time, the needlecase should by now have stabilised. The experimental manufacturing of a needlecase has shown that the artefact could be produced with a low level of technology coupled with a very high degree of accuracy and precision craftsmanship. The need for a precision drill with metal parts suggests that different kinds of expertise were coming together: not only woodworkers were involved but also blacksmiths. Furthermore while there is no known ivory counterpart of this needlecase design, the fineness of the execution does imply the use of small, fine tools like those that would be found on an ivory worker's bench.

CONCLUSIONS The experimental manufacture of a selected number of objects has proved that the postulated level of technology was realistically set. The training and skills required to produce a serviceable item appear to

Fig. 22 The two finished components of the experimental needlecase with the wooden pegs used for mounting them on the lathe and the tool employed to shape the flange; (photo E. Francis). This explains why some designs such as combs and pyxides prospered, diversified and penetrated almost every level of society, while the others, like the needlecases, withered having perhaps priced themselves out of the market. Finally, the hypothesis that wood- soled footwear could be used as a shoe and not merely as an overshoe, was strengthened by the actual experience of wearing it.

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APPENDIX 4: TURNING MARKS - A CHECKLIST It is not always easy to determine whether a vessel has been manufactured on the lathe. Archaeologists are asked to investigate material that is no longer in pristine condition and is normally fragmentary and distorted. The judgement can be highly subjective and dictated, occasionally, by a desire to find turned material.

It is, on the whole, advisable when considering whether an artefact has been manufactured on the lathe, to view the object within the general technological framework of the society that has produced it and to examine the item for a combination of telltale signs.

The ‘turned’ plates from Gordion (dated to the 8th century BC or earlier) are a suitable example of the problem. In her 1999 article, Simpson maintained that the wooden plates (five or more with a diameter in the region of 300mm) from Tumulus W at Gordion in central Turkey ‘provide the earliest certain evidence for the use of the lathe in the near east’ (Simpson 1999, 783). It is a surprising statement especially since there is no other turned material in the assemblage, not even among the furniture. One would expect that, if plates could be turned, chair legs would be made on the lathe as well. The core argument for the evidence of turning rests, according to Simpson, on the circular shape of the plates, on the presence of a depression (’a pivot hole’) at the back centre of one of them (and perhaps at the front as well) and on the fact that the cut marks stop suddenly ‘giving evidence of the back - and forth action of the ancient rope-manipulated lathe’ (ibid. 784). Simpson is aware of the need of a separate mandrel but does not elaborate on how it was attached to the piece. It is difficult to agree with this line of evidence since these marks can be explained otherwise.

These include: • Tool marks (striae). The principle of woodturning consists in mounting a piece of wood horizontally between two points (normally metal, but wooden pivots will do for small items) and imparting it sufficient velocity so that when a tool, a chisel or a gouge for example, is put to it, it will remove a wood shaving. This action creates a body of regular grooves perpendicular to the turning axis and, in the case of a vessel, parallel to its rim. The lower the velocity of the artefact, the narrower the striae because of the shape and size of the tool employed. It is obvious that if a blank is turning slowly and a large tool with a wide cutting edge is put to it, the resistance will be such that the artefact will slow down and no cutting will take place. These are the tool marks that Bulleid and Gray described for the Glastonbury items and can be seen clearly on item X5 from that site. As these marks can intentionally be sanded down to achieve a smooth surface, their absence cannot be used to infer that the item has not been turned.

The manufacture of round stone vessels in antiquity is well known and no one would invoke the use of a lathe for the purpose. Depressions in the centre of stone vessels (e.g. Ziyaret Tepe no. 7273, late Assyrian, 7th century BC, now at Diyarbakir Museum in eastern Turkey) are not pivot holes; they are the mark left by the use of a centring device (see Semenov 1964, fig. 25 no. 11). The ‘suddenly stopping cut marks’ are also problematical: reciprocating motion does not produce anything as dramatic. In the picture shown by Simpson, (1999, plate CLXXVc), the cut marks probably stop because the piece is damaged. Until further evidence for lathes that could turn 300mm diameter plates at such an early date is found, it is safer to conclude that the artefacts were shaped using techniques inspired by the manufacturing of stone vessels and were probably crafted by a combination of carving, abrading and polishing.

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• Poppet marks. These are depressions corresponding to the point of attachment of an artefact to the lathe. They can be readily identified at both ends of long cylindrical items such as chair legs that have been mounted and shaped on a lathe. This is a simple process in which only the outside surface of the object is worked on. When the artefact is worked both outside and inside, as is the case for hollow turned vessels, the operation is more complex and results in different manufacturing marks. Poppet marks on turned vessels are very rarely seen on the finished object because they were often removed in the course of operations. In antiquity, most vessel blanks had a built-in mandrel where the base is; the strap, used to impart a rotary motion to the artefact, was wound around it (fig. 1). At the end of turning, this knob was removed leaving an unturned surface with no poppet mark. On the other side, the vessel was hollowed to a waste core shaped

like a cone and attached at its apex to the inside of the base of the vessel. This core had on its base a depression (a poppet mark). The way this core was disposed of produced different core scars (see below). Poppet marks are therefore relevant to the present enquiry but can normally only be found on waste and, so far, no remains of this kind have been securely identified for the classical period.

The following have been observed: 1-The core is snapped leaving a round, rough patch (e.g. the pyxis from Sistova fig. 4.25). 2-The core is removed and the rough patch is cleaned with a sharp blade. The turning marks give way to a central circular area with minute cutting facets (e.g. London T005 fig. 5.2). 3-The core is removed and the rough area is cleaned out with a touch of the drill (e.g. Vindolanda P021 fig. 4.21). 4-The core is removed and the rough patch is drilled through. The resulting perforation is closed with a turned plug. This technique has been observed in Vindolanda T048 (fig. 7.4) but was used in classical times mainly for lids see (page 79); it has also been observed on vessels by Rieth for a couple of Hellenistic items from Hawara (Rieth 1940a, 97 and plate 49). 5-A portion of the core is left in place on purpose (e.g. the double pyxis from Taman fig. 4.12). The manufacturing marks listed above are specifically connected with the setting up and working of an artefact on a lathe. The criteria set out below are of a more general nature and cover features in artefacts that are more easily achieved by turning than carving. These include: • Presence of regular mouldings, deep ornamental grooves and bundles of lines going all the way around the object. • Very thin walls. It can be said that a vessel has been turned if its walls are consistently very thin, a feature which is very difficult to achieve by carving. One example is the shallow bowl from Fishbourne T010 (fig. 5.14). This artefact, possibly made from a boxwood burr, has none of the above marks but its sinuous walls are so fine (2mm) and regular that it could only have been turned. • Regular thickness of walls. It is not to be expected that the sides in a turned bowl would be of equal thickness from top to bottom. Thickness variations can be intentional with the rim normally thinner than the base. However, as each shaving is removed, no great variation in the thickness of the object should occur in its horizontal plane. • Foot-ring. The presence of a clear foot-ring all around is normally a good indication of turning for the outside surface of the vessel.

Fig. 1 Schematic representation of a vessel mounted on the lathe showing the built-in mandrel with the cord wrapped around it and the waste core still attached to the inner base; (drawing by the author) • Core scars. In an artefact turned in the face, i.e. with the grain of the wood perpendicular to the axis of rotation and parallel to the rim, the core can easily be disposed of along the grain of the wood with a sharp blow of the mallet. Alternatively, when the core has not been sufficiently reduced, it can be more laboriously removed by carving. This leaves a slightly uneven, circular patch with no turning marks in the centre of the inside surface of the vessel. This feature has been observed for instance in a number of items from La Tène (see page 123ff) If, on the other hand, the item has been turned in the spindle (i.e. with the grain of the wood running parallel to the axis of rotation) the disposal of the core is a more complex operation. It was carried out in antiquity in a variety of ways each leaving a specific mark.

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GLOSSARY Blank A piece of wood worked from a billet with generic tools to the approximate shape and size of the intended object. Bottomed teeth In wooden combs teeth are normally cut at a slant from both sides. As a result, teeth have an inverted V-shaped section at the base and are shorter than they appear. When this section is removed in a separate cutting operation, the teeth are ‘bottomed’ and are freestanding from the lowest sawmark. Bow lathe Turning apparatus requiring only one operator. One hand activates the bow and rotates the object in a reciprocating motion while the other holds the cutting tool; a bow lathe is suitable mainly for small items. Built-in mandrel In the turning of bowls which cannot double up as mandrels because they are not cylindrical, the blank (q.v.) can be manufactured with a knob on the outer base; this is shaped to take the strap and act as a mandrel. The knob is removed at the end of turning by a combination of sawing and carving leaving an unturned patch. Burr Abnormal growth on a tree trunk induced by a variety of traumas. Its inner structure is weaker than in ordinary wood because fibers are fewer and are not aligned in the same direction. Cast Footwear made of material which is not flexible requires the front to be shaped in order to allow the foot to turn properly and the wearer to walk without shuffling. In antiquity the cast was provided, in woodsoled footwear, by stilts (q.v.) at the front of the sole. The height of the stilt determined the length of the stride: the higher the stilt the longer the stride. In more modern wood-soled footwear the cast is provided by shaping the front of the shoe in a curve. Clam Tool used for gripping the blank of a comb in order to cut the teeth. Combined turning Procedure involving the remounting of turned lidded vessels as a complete objects for a final finish of the outer surface. Core Waste produced when hollowing an object on the lathe between two points. It normally has a conical shape with the apex attached to the inner base of the object. The base of the core has a depression in the centre (a poppet mark

q.v.). When the core is removed it leaves a core scar (q.v.). Core scar Unturned patch resulting from the removal of a core (q.v.). Cutting stroke In lathes operated by reciprocating motion the cutting stroke occurs when the object is revolving towards the operator and a shaving can be removed. Edging strip Leather strip in fine material used to protect the edge of cork slippers’ midsoles (q.v.). It folds over the edge of the midsole on both sides. Flesh side The upper side of the sole in contact with the foot. Headstock Upright of a lathe. Heel The rear part of the sole. Hollow turning The process of hollowing vessels on the lathe. Hook tool Tool used for hollowing globular objects. It has cutting edges on the sides and leaves ripple marks rather than striae (q.v.). Insole Sole-shaped lining of footwear placed in direct contact with the foot. Instep The middle part of the foot. Lasting margin The edge of the vamp (q.v.) used for stitching it to the sole. Lathe ends Generic term referring to waste generated when turning an object on the lathe. Lathe ends normally show a poppet mark (q.v.). Mandrel Device around which the strap imparting motion to the object is wound. It can be the object itself if it is suitably shaped i.e. cylindrical like a pyxis, or a part of it, which is discarded at the end of operations (built-in mandrel q.v.). Separate mandrels can be fixed to the object either in slots or with spikes, or operate by pressure (pressure mandrel q.v.) Midsole The part of a cork-soled footwear which is made of cork. It is normally surrounded by an edging strip (q.v.). Open face lathe A turning apparatus in which the object is not sustained between two points. The revolving object is fixed on a chuck. Outer sole The sole in thick leather directly in contact with the ground. Pole lathe A turning apparatus requiring only one operator. The strap is connected to a flexible pole and to a treadle operated by the foot of the turner; the turning tool is held with both hands. It produces reciprocating motion.

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Poppets Metal, more rarely wooden pivots fixed on the uprights of a lathe and supporting the object to be turned. Poppet marks Depressions corresponding to the points of attachment of the object to the lathe. Normally present on waste and not on the objects themselves. Pressure mandrel A wooden cylinder with a perfectly flat end matched by a similarly flat surface on the object to be turned. Pressure mandrels operate by friction for small items or require a small spread of glue. They need to be carefully centered and leave normally no trace. Quarter Upper part of footwear covering the heel. Return stroke On reciprocating lathes the return stroke occurs when the objects is revolving away from the operator and no cutting occurs. Seat The back part of a sole. Spindle Waste produced when turning the outer surface of an object. It normally corresponds to the portion of the object by which it is sustained on the lathe. It has a depression at one end (a poppet mark q.v.) and leaves a spindle scar (q.v.) when removed. Spindle scar Unturned patch resulting from the removal of the spindle (q.v.). Spoon bit Drill bit shaped in an elongated form and having a round end; its cutting edge runs around the sides and the tip of the tool. Stilt Carved projections of varied shapes on the underside of wood-soled footwear. Stilts provide the sole with a cast (q.v.) and a grip on muddy ground. Strap lathe Turning apparatus requiring two or more operators. One holds the cutting tool and the other(s) pull the strap thereby producing a reciprocating motion. Striae Body of regular fine grooves, perpendicular to the axis of rotation of the lathe, which can be observed on a turned object. Surface velocity The speed at which the surface of the object must revolve on the lathe for the cutting tool to take off a shaving when turning (estimated in the region of 141 cm/sec). Tread The front part of the sole. Treadle lathe Turning apparatus normally requiring two people. One operates the treadle producing a reciprocating motion, the other carries out the turning.

Tubular drill Hollow copper cylinder fixed on a wooden shaft and operated by rotation. It is used with quarzite sand acting as the cutting agent. Double tubular drills with two cylinders one inside the other are also known. Turning in the face An object is turned in the face when the grain of the wood (i.e. the direction of the fibers) is perpendicular to the axis of the lathe. Turning in the spindle An object is turned in the spindle when the grain of the wood (i.e. the direction of the fibers) is parallel to the axis of the lathe. Turning pegs Wooden pegs used for mounting a drilled object on the lathe so that its turned outer surface will be coaxial with the inner one. Turning pegs are prepared from a wooden cylinder shaped on the lathe to a slight concave profile. This is then sawn in half and produces two turning pegs with the required tapering shape. The pegs are inserted in the object as required and the latter can now be centered on the lathe. The object’s outer surface can be turned and it will be coaxial with the inner, drilled surface. Turning pegs show a poppet mark (q.v.) in the centre of the broader end. Unturned external facets Areas on the outer surface of a turned object which have not been fashioned on the lathe. The presence of unturned facets shows that the blank was very carefully prepared and required little work on the lathe. Upper In footwear the upper refers to any device employed to keep the sole and the foot in close contact. Uppers are normally in leather but they are also known in cloth, felt and plaited grass. Upper attachment In footwear an upper attachment refers to the way the upper (q.v.) is fastened to the sole. Vamp In the upper of a shoe the vamp is the part covering partially or completely the front of the foot. Wear side The underside of the sole in contact with the ground. Wood conversion The method adopted for the preparation of the blank (q.v.) of an object starting from the billet.

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INDEX Unless otherwise specified the objects mentioned (except tools) have wood as the principal constituent material. Only references to illustrations in the corpora (appendix 3) are included. Numbers in bold indicate illustrations. Acus crinalis (see hair pin) Acus discriminalis (see discerniculum) Alchester 8, 102, 103 Alexis 33 Altino, Italy 3,18, 22,44,47,49, 50, 51, 52, 58, 59, 170, 177 Amasra, Turkey 140 Angular boxes 60-65

Castleford 8, 42, 44, 45, 52, 119, 139, 160, 161 Cato 56, 57, 58, 59, 100 Celsus 24, 82 Chalon sur Saône, France 3, 59, 52, 72, 123, 127, 170 Chamallières, France 11 Charavines, France 14, 22 Chassey France 187 Chester 8, 29, 30 Chew Valley Lake 7, 8, 15, 18, 20, 21, 167 Chichester 8, 29 Chip-carving 18, 21, 22, 49, 67, 70 Cicero 56 Cirencester 8, 15, 30 Citrarii 141 Clairvaux, France 177 Claudian 119 Columella 33, 56 Comacchio barge see Fortuna Maris Comatoria see hair pin Combined turning 81, 93, 143, 189, 193 Combs 14-26 Blanks 18, 23, 177, 180 Decoration 17, 18, 21, 22, 177 Distribution 19,20, 25 Experimental 175-181 Flint cut 14, 177 High-status 20, 21, 22, 23 In funerary contexts 11, 20 In alternative wood-species 15, 175 Makers’ marks 19, 180, 181 Manufacturing techniques see experimental Medieval 15, 21 Ownership marks 18 Perforated terminals 180 Production 21, 23, 68, 78, 181 (see also pectinarii) Raw material 15 Romano-British style 18, 20, 21, 23, 139 Single-sided 16, 19, 21, 22, 177 Terminal styles 16 Typology 15, 16, 18, 19 Uses 23-25 Combmakers see pectinarii Combmaking factory see Altino Combmaking tools ancient 2, 19, 21, 23, 26, 139, ` 142,178, 179, 181; modern 175, 176, 177, 181 Compierre, France 3, 49, 52, 59, 170

Apuleius 140

Aquileia, Italy 76, 83 Aquincum, Hungary 38, 40 Avenches, Switzerland 3,44, 45, 51, 52, 59, 105, 106,112, 113, 170 Les Avrillages, France 3, 42, 44, 52, 59, 170 Balmuildy 8, 38, 40 Bar Hill 8, 15, 22, 70, 84, 163 Baratti wreck (see Pozzino wreck) Basketry 11, 84, 142 Bath 8, 12, 15, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 60, 62, 64 Beauport Park 8, 45, 52, 162 Bentwood boxes 1, 95-99, 139, 142, 143 Birdoswald 8, 104 Bonner Berg, Germany 52, 59 Boscoreale, Italy 51, 84 Bottomed teeth 18 19, 20, 23, 180,193 Bow lathe 134, 140, 193 Boxwood 1,10, 14, 15, 16, 19, 20, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26, 28, 49, 50, 51, 55, 60, 66, 67, 68-69, 71, 72, 73, 74, 78, 80, 81, 82, 84, 91, 94, 101, 102, 103, 108, 110, 111, 112, 113, 117, 119, 138, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143, 174, 176, 177, 180, 184, 188, 189, 192 Boxwood cleaner 24 Bracelets 26, 27 Brattae see veneer Brauron, Greece 3, 67, 170 Breiddin Hillfort 8, 123, 133, 135 Brushes 24 Built-in mandrel 132, 192, 193 Burials 10, 20, 35, 40, 55 Burrs 103, 108, 113, 193 Caernarfon 8, 23 Capsae 95 Carlisle 2, 7, 8, 9, 10, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 27, 30, 35, 38, 40, 42, 45, 47, 48, 49, 52, 53, 60, 61, 70, 79, 80, 81, 82, 84, 90, 93, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 110, 113, 115, 116, 138, 144, 160, 164, 166, 168, 169, 173, 174 206

Corbridge 8, 70, 81, 82, 144, 163 Core removing techniques 73, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 88, 89, 102, 103, 111, 112, 127, 132, 137, 139, 192 Core scars 79, 80, 86, 92, 129, 192, 193 Cores see turning waste Cork oak 32-33, 38 Cork-soled footwear 32-41, 168, 141 Diagnostic finds 38-40 Distribution 38, 40 Gilded 39, 40, 41 Nailed 36, 37 Uppers 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40 Uses 33, 36, 40 Cramond 8, 102, 103, 104, 139 Dalton Parlours 8, 103, 106, 119 Dandruff 24 Differential preservation 6-7 Diocletian’s Edict of Maximum Prices 15, 21, 26 Discerniculum 17, 28 Drill bits (ancient) 87, 8, 90, 92; (modern) 92, 186, 187 Drilling on the lathe 92 Drinking vessels see tableware Dutch clogs 54 Eborarii 141 El Cigarralejo, Spain 3, 85, 86, 137, 170 Esch, The Netherlands 3, 35, 38, 40, 170 Eschenz, Switzerland 3, 24, 170 Exeter 8, 18, 104 Experimental artefacts see combs, soles, needlecases, pyxides Experimental drilling 89, 92, 189-190 Experimental turning 84, 133, 134, 175, 183-186, 188-189 Farmoor 8, 12, 166 Feddersee Moor, Germany 3, 123, 128, 170 Feddersen Wierde, Germany 3, 113, 121, 122, 123, 131-132, 170 Fiavè, Italy 113 Fishbourne 8, 18, 22, 106, 108, 109, 110, 113, 138 Footwear see soles and cork-soled footwear Fortuna Maris wreck, Italy 3, 10, 68, 69, 73, 81, 103, 137, 138, 141, 170 Frame drill 91, 92, 187, 188 Furniture 1, 131, 132, 137 Earrings 26 Glass vessels see imitation Glastonbury 8, 121, 122, 131, 133, 134, 135, 136, 174 Globular vessels 121, 123, 133, 135 Gordion, Turkey 191 Grotesque figurines 118, 119 Guernsey wreck 8, 10, 166, 167 Gulf of Fos deposits, France 3, 70, 72, 74, 75, 76, 81, 102, 110, 170

Gurob, Egypt 61, 63 Infills 9, 10 Ivory workers see eborarii Hairpins 6, 27, 28, 29 Harlow 6, 8, 44, 52, 96, 97, 160 Hawara, Egypt 3, 28, 30, 35, 36, 61, 63, 73, 76, 78, 79, 86, 87, 170, 192 Heckenmunster, Germany 81 Heddernheim see Nida Herculaneum, Italy 1, 3, 7, 49, 51, 65, 103, 104, 110, 170 Hesychios 56 Heuneburg, Germany 136 Hippocrates 93 Hjortspring, Denmark 3, 11, 123, 129, 130, 170 Holzboden see urnerboden Horace 24, 95, 100 Imitation 49, 70, 109 Isidore of Seville 57, 82 Jewellery see Necklaces, Bracelets, Rings, Earrings Juvenal 25, 69 Kertch Russia 3, 11, 15, 20, 21, 28, 29, 44, 71, 73, 81, 85, 90, 142, 170 Killimoon co Tyrone, Ireland 60 Kitchenware 114-119 Mortaria 114 Scoops 115, 116, 117 Spatulae 117-119 Troughs 114-115 Klosterneuburg, Austria 108 Köln 40 Kratinos 55, 56 Krefeld Gellep,Germany 3, 108, 109, 171 Ladaig Moss Crannog 8, 21 Lamae see veneer Länderboden see Urnerboden Lankhills 8, 11, 18, 20 La Tène 3, 102, 123, 124, 125, 126, 132, 171 Lath walled vessels see bentwood boxes Lathe ends 119, 193 Les Martres de Veyre , France 3, 11, 20, 27, 35, 37, 38, 40, 42, 49, 50, 52, 59, 70, 71, 72, 75, 76, 78, 79, 81, 82, 86, 120, 144, 171 Leucophoron 26 Lice and nits 24, 25 Lissue co. Antrim, Ireland 133 Local traditions 22, 60, 103, 104, 115, 135 London 2, 7, 8, 9, 10, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 24, 26, 27, 36, 37,38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 44, 45, 52, 68, 70, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 79, 80, 81, 84, 101, 102, 103, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 115, 117, 119, 120, 127, 141, 161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 168, 169 Lost designs 137, 138 Lucian 119 Lucilius 100 207

Luxeil, France 11 Maidstone 8, 104, 164 Mandrel 72, 73, 79, 80, 81, 104, 110, 112, 120, 132, 133, 134, 135, 136 Mangalia, Bulgaria 3, 35, 38, 40, 171 Marseille, France 3, 70, 74, 76, 78, 81, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 171 Martial 24, 38, 40, 100 Metal inlays and overlays 21, 22, 102, 103, 108, 109 Mirror boxes 26, 29, 30 Modii 97, 98 Montmaurin, France 3, 113, 171 Necklaces 26, 27 Needlecases 88, 90, 91-94, 138, 143, 163 Experimental 186-190 In other materials 94 Manufacture 91-93 Prototype 90 Post Roman 94 Uses 93 Newstead 8, 17, 22, 23, 45, 52, 70, 77, 78, 162, 167 Nida, Germany 3, 107, 108, 170 Niederbieber, Germany 87 Norwich 8, 30 Novae, Bulgaria 3, 79, 81, 171 Nydam, Denmark 11 Oberaden Germany 97 Oberflacht, Germany 3, 96, 98, 99, 113, 136, 171 Oberwinterthur, Switzerland 3, 22, 24, 90, 98, 171 Odell 8, 12 Olive crushing 55, 56 Overton Down 5, 173 Ovid 15, 24, 68, 69, 75, 82, 95, 101, 114 Paddepoel, the Netherlands 113, 132 Part-turned/part-carved items 110, 111, 112, 116, 143 Papyrus rolls 95 Pausanias 32 Pectinarii 2, 15, 23, 25, 26, 177, 178 Petronius 56 Pinned bases 98 Pisa wrecks, Italy 3, 51, 52, 59, 171 Plaited soles 51 Platform shoes 33 Plautus 26, 57, 61 Pliny 24, 25, 26, 31, 33, 36, 40, 68, 39, 96, 100, 101, 113 Pliny the younger 11 Plywood 31 Pocula fagina 101 Pole lathe 135, 194 Pommereoul, Belgium 3, 17, 171 Pompei, Italy 7, 29, 65, 139, 175 Poppet marks 86, 92, 93, 191, 192, 194 Port Vendres II wreck, France 3, 81, 82, 87, 91 Portchester 8, 17, 18, 19, 20 Pottery production 101

Pozzino wreck, Italy 3, 10, 80, 81, 82, 87, 88, 90, 142, 171 Praeneste, Italy 3, 67, 70, 80, 85, 86, 111, 171 Pressure mandrel 110, 111, 143 Pyxides 66-84, 143, 144 Button-lid 72, 75, 82 Decoration 67,71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77 Distribution 81ff, 141 Double 71, 72, Experimental 183-186 Fastening 73, 74 Globular 70, 71, 72, 78, 79, 81 In other materials 83, 84 Manufacture 70, 74, 76-81 Miniature 82, 144 Pear shaped 71, 78 Prototypes in bone and ivory 66 Raw material 68-69, 81, 84, 141 Regional style 81 Reject 77 Uses 82 Rainau-Buch, Germany 3, 62, 65, 106, 118, 119 Rezé lès Nantes, France 3, 6, 97, 171 Ribchester 8, 9, 10 Rings 26, 27 Rothwell Colliery 8, 106, 112, 113 Saalburg 3, 18, 20, 21, 35, 36, 38, 40, 42, 44, 49, 51, 52, 59, 73, 74, 76, 81, 97, 107, 108,143, 171 Saintes, France 3, 27, 81, 171 Samos, Greece 3, 85, 86, 171 Schagen-Muggenburg, the Netherlands 81, 143 Scole-Dickleburgh 8, 104, 107, 166 Scribonius Largus 82 Scrinia curva see bentwood boxes Sculponeae see soles Seneca 56, 84, 96 Serenus Sammonicus 24 Shakenoak 8 Shale turning 80, 135, 136 Sistova, Bulgaria 3, 192, 171 Soapstone vessels 136 Socci see cork-soled footwear Soleae balneariae 36, 58 Soleae lanatae 38 Soleae ligneae (see soles) Soles 42-59 Cast 44, 47, 53-54, 56, 58, 193 Decoration 48, 49 Distribution 51, 52 Experimental 181-183, 190 Hinged 47, 48, 55 In the classical literature 55, 56 Insoles 49 Nailed 47, 49, 55 Raw material 49, 51 Sculponeae 42, 56, 57 208

Stilts 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 51, 52, 53, 54, 56, 58, 194 Symbolic 54, 55 Typology 42-43 Uppers 42, 45, 49, 50, 51, 53, 54 Use 42, 44, 51, 56, 58, 59 Sophocles 55 Sources de la Seine, France 11 St Germain en Montagne, France 3, 44, 45, 51, 52, 59, 171 Strap lathe 134, 194 Strata Florida 68 Striae 121, 123, 127, 191, 194 Sutton Hoo 113 Tableware 100-113 Blanks 104, 106, 107, 121, 132 Bowls 100, 101, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 113, 123, 128, 136, 143 Cups 100, 101, 102, 103, 108, 110, 111, 113 High-status 108, 113, 138 Medieval 120 Plates 103, 104, 110, 120 Raw material 100, 101, 103, 113 Serving implements 100, 102, 108, 110, 111, 112, 113, 138, 141, 143, 165 Taman Russia 5, 11, 71, 72, 81, 171 Tarraby 8, 104 Thephrastos 32, 33, 68, 136 Thonon les bains 51, 52, 59 Thorsberg, Denmark 132 Tibullus 19 Touffréville 3, 42, 44, 47, 51, 52, 59, 171 Towcester 8, 30, 31 Trade 69, 113, 141-142 Treadle lathe 134, 194 Turned and drilled vessels 79, 82, 86, 87, 88 , 142, 143 (see also needlecases) Turning pegs 92, 188, 189, 190, 194 Turning tools ancient 70, 72, 76, 77, 79, 87, 139, 140, 175, 179; modern 133, 183, 186 Turning waste 73, 76, 77, 78, 76-9, 80, 102, 103, 104, 112, 119, 139, 184, 185, 191, 192, 193, 194 Two-part vessels 85, 86 Twist/reverse twist drill 92 Uffing Germany 3, 123, 130, 131, 171, 174 Urnerboden 57, 58 Valerius Maximus 95, 100 Valkenburg, the Netherlands 3, 35,38, 52, 59, 72, 76, 81, 104, 172 Varro 28, 56

Vechten, the Netherlands 3, 38, 40, 42, 43, 53, 59, 76, 81, 172 Velsen 1, the Netherlands 3, 27, 47, 52, 59, 70, 71, 72, 73, 78, 79, 81, 102,108, 109, 172, 182 Veneer 30, 31, 96, 98 Vergil 33, 100, 101, 111 Victoria cave 8 Vieille Toulouse 3, 22, 174 Ville sur Retourne, France 3, 49, 51, 52, 59, 172 Vindolanda 2, 3, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 12, 17, 18, 19, 20, 22, 24, 28, 29, 34, 35, 39, 40, 42, 44, 47, 48, 49, 50, 52, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 70, 76, 77 ,80, 90, 91, 93, 102 ,104, 105, 110, 111, 113, 115, 116, 119, 142, 161, 162, 163, 164, 167, 177 189 Vindonissa 2, 3, 22, 42, 44, 47, 49, 51, 52, 54, 59, 61, 62, 70, 74, 75, 76, 78, 81, 88, 102, 110, 114, 117, 141, 142, 172, 182 Votive deposits 11-12 Votive figurines 11 Water table 6, 7, 9 Waterlogged environments 5, 6, 7, 9, 10, 12 Wells 7, 9, 10, 12 Welzheim, Germany 3, 35, 39, 40, 44, 52, 59, 172 Whitchurch 8, 30 Whitcombe 8, 27 Wickford Well 8, 17, 18, 21 Wijster, the Netherlands 113 Winchester 8, 19, 20, 21 Wood conversion 106 Wood-specific designs 138 Wookey Hole 8, 123, 135 Workshops 139, 140, 143, 177 (see also Altino) Wrecks 10 Writing tablets 61, 62, 113 Wroxeter 28 Xanten 40 Xenophon 26, 33 York 8, 9, 10, 12, 16, 19, 20, 21, 35, 38, 70, 72, 73, 80, 102, 106, 107, 110, 111, 117, 133, 169 Zoccoli 53, 59 Zugmantel Germany 38, 40

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