The Life Biography of Artefacts and Ritual Practice: With case studies from Mesolithic-Early Bronze Age Europe 9781407356822, 9781407354415

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The Life Biography of Artefacts and Ritual Practice With case studies from Mesolithic-Early Bronze Age Europe

EDITED BY

M AT H I A S B J Ø R N E VA D - A H L Q V I S T AND PETER BYE-JENSEN

B A R I N T E R NAT I O NA L S E R I E S 2 9 9 1

2020

The Life Biography of Artefacts and Ritual Practice With case studies from Mesolithic-Early Bronze Age Europe EDITED BY

M AT H I A S B J Ø R N E VA D - A H L Q V I S T AND PETER BYE-JENSEN P R E FA C E B Y

JOSHUA POLLARD B A R I N T E R NAT I O NA L S E R I E S 2 9 9 1

2020

Published in 2020 by BAR Publishing, Oxford BAR International Series 2991 The Life Biography of Artefacts and Ritual Practice isbn  

978 1 4073 5682 2 paperback isbn   978 1 4073 5441 5 e-format doi  https://doi.org/10.30861/9781407356822

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library © the editors and authors severally 2020 cov er i m age Artistic impression of the act of deposition of selected artefacts in a ditch of a causewayed enclosure (in Peter Bye-Jensen 2019 by Tom Lock).

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Homines, Funera, Astra Proceedings of the International Symposium on Funerary Anthropology 5–8 June 2011 ‘1 Decembrie 1918’ University (Alba Iulia, Romania) Edited by Raluca Kogalniceanu, Roxana-Gabriela Curca, Mihai Gligor and Susan Stratton Oxford, BAR Publishing, 2012

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Contents Preface: Small traces, big issues....................................................................................................................................... ix Joshua Pollard............................................................................................................................................................. vii Bibliography.................................................................................................................................................................. x Foreword............................................................................................................................................................................. xi 1. Taking a closer look – causewayed enclosures through the lens of a large-scale use-wear analysis project....... 1 Peter Bye-Jensen........................................................................................................................................................... 1 Introduction................................................................................................................................................................... 1 Method of investigation ................................................................................................................................................ 2 Selection........................................................................................................................................................................ 7 Conclusion..................................................................................................................................................................... 7 Bibliography.................................................................................................................................................................. 9 2. Endless life of tools and vessels from the Neolithic contexts in SW Poland..........................................................11 Bernadeta Kufel-Diakowska, Marta Mozgała-Swacha, Joanna Kałużna-Czaplińska, Angelina Rosiak, Henryk Stoksik...................................................................................................................................................... 11 Introduction................................................................................................................................................................. 11 Materials and methods................................................................................................................................................. 11 Sickle blades................................................................................................................................................................ 13 Ceramic vessels .......................................................................................................................................................... 15 Discussion and conclusions......................................................................................................................................... 18 Acknowledgements..................................................................................................................................................... 21 References................................................................................................................................................................... 21 3. Grinding tools and circular enclosures: Activities on late Neolithic settlements................................................. 23 Jaroslav Řídký, Markéta Končelová, Pavel Burgert, Radka Šumberová, and Roman Hadacz................................... 23 Introduction................................................................................................................................................................. 23 Rondels and grinding tools.......................................................................................................................................... 23 Grinding tools – their basic characteristics................................................................................................................. 25 The Vchynice case site ............................................................................................................................................... 27 The Kolín I case site ................................................................................................................................................... 29 The Jaroměř case site .................................................................................................................................................. 30 The Příšovice case site ................................................................................................................................................ 31 Conclusion................................................................................................................................................................... 32 Acknowledgements..................................................................................................................................................... 33 References................................................................................................................................................................... 33 4. Amber discs with cross decoration from the eastern Baltic region. A research case study from the Daktariškė 5 Neolithic settlement, western Lithuania........................................................................................... 35 Adomas Butrimas, Tomas Rimkus, and Gvidas Slah................................................................................................... 35 Introduction................................................................................................................................................................. 35 Methods....................................................................................................................................................................... 35 Use-wear analysis................................................................................................................................................... 35 FTIR and micro FT-Raman spectral analysis......................................................................................................... 36 Daktariškė 5 Neolithic settlement............................................................................................................................... 36 Location and topography........................................................................................................................................ 36 Excavations and cultural layer................................................................................................................................ 36 Finds and chronology............................................................................................................................................. 38 The amber disc with cross decoration ........................................................................................................................ 39 Use-wear analysis........................................................................................................................................................ 39

v

The Edge of Europe. Heritage, Landscape and Conflict Archaeology FTIR and micro FT-Raman spectral analysis.............................................................................................................. 41 Discussion and final remarks....................................................................................................................................... 41 Acknowledgements..................................................................................................................................................... 44 References................................................................................................................................................................... 45 5. The role of chipped stone artefacts in the Late Neolithic burial practices at the site Alsónyék (Southern Hungary).................................................................................................................................................. 47 Kata Szilágyi................................................................................................................................................................ 47 Introduction................................................................................................................................................................. 47 Materials and methods................................................................................................................................................. 48 Results......................................................................................................................................................................... 50 Raw materials and its distribution.......................................................................................................................... 50 Distribution of raw material and technological categories of oval-shaped burials................................................ 50 Distribution of raw material and technological categories of rectangular-shaped burials..................................... 53 Discussion.................................................................................................................................................................... 55 Conclusion................................................................................................................................................................... 58 Acknowledgments....................................................................................................................................................... 58 References................................................................................................................................................................... 58 6. Useful, beautiful or ritual? The life biography of grave goods from a Prehistoric burial ground................... 61 Raluca Kogălniceanu.................................................................................................................................................. 61 Introduction................................................................................................................................................................. 61 The site of Cernavodă.................................................................................................................................................. 61 Several starting questions............................................................................................................................................ 61 1. When does the biography of an object begins and ends?................................................................................... 61 2. How does an object gain a life biography?......................................................................................................... 62 3. What measuring unit should be used for life biographies?................................................................................. 62 Types of life biographies............................................................................................................................................. 62 A. Long life biographies......................................................................................................................................... 62 B. Medium life biographies.................................................................................................................................... 62 C. Short life biographies......................................................................................................................................... 62 Spondylus objects................................................................................................................................................... 63 Marble objects........................................................................................................................................................ 63 Long life biographies (II): polished stone tools.......................................................................................................... 64 Medium life biographies (various objects).................................................................................................................. 65 Polished stone tools................................................................................................................................................ 65 Animal bone tool.................................................................................................................................................... 65 Silicolite chipped tool............................................................................................................................................. 65 Pottery..................................................................................................................................................................... 65 Short life biographies (various objects)....................................................................................................................... 66 An overview................................................................................................................................................................ 67 Ritual or profane biographies?.................................................................................................................................... 68 Acknowledgements..................................................................................................................................................... 68 References................................................................................................................................................................... 68 7. Practical and symbolic aspects of the life cycle of arrowheads in Central Europe, 2,400–1,800 BC................. 71 Ludmila Kaňáková....................................................................................................................................................... 71 Introduction................................................................................................................................................................. 71 Methods....................................................................................................................................................................... 71 Analysis of the life cycle of projectiles....................................................................................................................... 72 Conclusion................................................................................................................................................................... 78 Acknowledgements..................................................................................................................................................... 79 References................................................................................................................................................................... 79 8. From the living to the dead: Lithics as a part of grave goods of the TRB culture in Denmark......................... 81 Marzena Cendrowska.................................................................................................................................................. 81 Flint in ritual – the symbolic meaning of lithics.......................................................................................................... 81 Approaches to ritual................................................................................................................................................ 81 vi

Contents Symbolic meaning of artefacts............................................................................................................................... 82 Sites and artefacts........................................................................................................................................................ 83 Technological analysis – the birth of the artefacts...................................................................................................... 83 Debitage.................................................................................................................................................................. 84 Tools....................................................................................................................................................................... 85 Use wear analysis – the life of the artefacts................................................................................................................ 86 Lithics in graves – the burial of the artefacts.............................................................................................................. 86 Discussion.................................................................................................................................................................... 87 Does burial reflect everyday life? – comparison with settlements ........................................................................ 88 Conclusions................................................................................................................................................................. 89 References:.................................................................................................................................................................. 90 9. Ritual use of flint – flintscape in action.................................................................................................................... 93 Lars Larsson................................................................................................................................................................ 93 Introduction................................................................................................................................................................. 93 Wetland deposits of flint tools................................................................................................................................ 93 A case study ........................................................................................................................................................... 94 Landscape and depositions..................................................................................................................................... 97 Axes and megalithic tombs..................................................................................................................................... 98 Axes and the deceased................................................................................................................................................. 98 Polished and unpolished axes...................................................................................................................................... 99 Axe and Palisades........................................................................................................................................................ 99 Passage by fire............................................................................................................................................................. 99 Conclusion................................................................................................................................................................. 101 References................................................................................................................................................................. 102 10. A relational perspective on entangled biographies in Southern Scandinavian Mesolithic hoards.................. 105 Mathias Bjørnevad-Ahlqvist...................................................................................................................................... 105 Introduction............................................................................................................................................................... 105 Setting the stage: A brief overview of Mesolithic hoards and the research history.................................................. 105 Theoretical and methodological framework.............................................................................................................. 106 Entangled biographies in Southern Scandinavian Mesolithic hoards ...................................................................... 107 Different sources................................................................................................................................................... 107 Different producers .............................................................................................................................................. 110 Different use-life history....................................................................................................................................... 112 Different degrees of curation................................................................................................................................ 119 Physical transformation via destruction................................................................................................................ 122 Making sense of the variability: the application of relational ontologies ............................................................ 124 Concluding remarks.............................................................................................................................................. 125 References................................................................................................................................................................. 125

vii

Preface Small traces, big issues Joshua Pollard provides another route (Joyce and Gillespie 2015), paying attention to how things operate in motion, and tracing the places where objects are active and where they come to rest. Those studies focused on grave items by Kaňáková, Kufel-Diakowska et al., Cendrowska provide cases in point, since they identify the prior lives of objects in settlements and in landscape tasks before their final coming to rest in funerary settings – roles that shift according to place and practice. Perhaps part of the power of these objects comes from that movement through habitual worlds and places, which is then reflected upon at the point of burial?

Within this volume are a series of papers that explore how non-destructive analytical analysis of material culture from European Mesolithic to Bronze Age contexts can contribute to understanding material life-histories or biographies. It builds upon an emerging body of work that utilises the principles of use-wear analysis especially to explore object histories (e.g. Van Gijn 2010), rather than simply function. Here, this is enacted through a particular lens, giving attention to those things caught up in practices we label as ritual (e.g. hoarding, burial, intentional destruction), and so inform the nature of those practices themselves. In its approach it pulls together two important strands current in later prehistoric research: an increasing interest in things on their own terms and their position within social worlds (cf. Olsen 2010; Miller 2008); and the renewed impact of scientific analyses and the potential of such to pose new questions as well as address existing ones.

Ultimately, being able to pick up upon biography and/ or itinerary is dependent on being able to see changes brought about to things through their interactions with the world. This is where trace and transformation become so important. Sometimes it is a case of focusing on what is missing (the signature of fragmentation); in other instances it is the patina of age and handling; or the microscopic wear and flaking of the edge of a stone tool (Bye-Jensen 2019). Such traces remind us that things are mutable, and any sense of material stability is often a matter of observation rather than physical reality (Ingold 2007). That capacity for transformation was drawn upon within prehistoric worlds. Wear and patina provided authenticity and temporal depth for certain kinds of inalienable objects that circulated between (and captured) people. Materials of flint and other stone could be readily transformed through percussion and burning, offering potential for new, extended, lives. Conversely, deliberate fragmentation, as Bjørnevad, Larsson and Řídký et al. show, sometimes negated the potential of objects like axeheads, querns and microliths to retain their existing roles, and took them into different spheres, even perhaps different ontological domains. Transformation allowed translation, and with it interaction with spiritual and noncorporeal realms.

Several themes emerge, of which attention might be drawn to those of scale, time/space, trace and value. Research of the kind reported here reminds us of how successful archaeological work must always involve ‘tacking’ between scales. Many of the papers report on how close observation of microscopic and macroscopic traces help determine the utilisation, working and life-histories of items of portable material culture, which can then be framed within process enacted across locales (e.g. settlement and cemeteries) and landscapes. Temporal scale takes in traces that might be formed in a matter of seconds, minutes or hours – wear on the edge of a flint tool, the breakage of an axe or quern, or re-sharpening of an arrowhead, for example – but which may endure over their systemic lives and across the millennia to become the focus of analysis. Papers in this volume describe timescapes both long and short, and the highlight the varied temporal currencies of things. Kogălniceanu, for example, contrasts the extended and complicated lives of Spondylus shell ornaments against the systemic brevity of ceramic figurines made for deposition in the grave.

We tend to see one kind of transformation – wear – in rather negative terms, being indicative of indicative of age, obsolescence and redundancy. Perhaps this is why we expect that objects provided as offerings should be pristine, in graves and as part of votive hoards for instance. The new and unadulterated is equated in our world with value, and the provision of the new with proper respect. This is very much a perspective engendered through modern consumer culture, but it is not one that holds in traditional societies, such as those of later prehistoric Europe. Papers here by Cendrowska,

It is, of course, the coming together of time, space and interaction with people, places and other things that lies at the heart of object biography (Kopytoff 1986; Gosden and Marshall 1999). Understanding how objects hold time, space and trace of their engagement with people, gestures, other materials, and the social conditions within which they operate, is really at the heart of the studies here. It is nicely articulated by Bjørnevad’s study of South Scandinavian Mesolithic hoards. The notion of itinerary ix

Joshua Pollard Kaňáková, Kogălniceanu, Kufel-Diakowska et al. highlight the inclusion of used, sometimes quite old and worn objects within grave assemblages. This suggests qualities of patina, association, connection, durability and authenticity mattered, because they were inextricably linked to the people and processes that generated them. They might speak, too, of the emotional attachment to things that often comes through routine familiarity and copresence (Miller 2008), the sheer weight of inseparability that can exist between people and things in the heightened environment of mourning (Hallam and Hockey 2001), and of the pollution of death and its effects on things. It reminds us that things become agental through action.

Kopytoff, Igor. 1986. “The Cultural Biography of Things: Commoditization as Process.” The Social Life of Things: Commodities in Cultural Perspective 68: 70– 73. Miller, Daniel. 2008. The Comfort of Things. Polity. Olsen, Bjørnar. 2010. In Defense of Things: Archaeology and the Ontology of Objects. Rowman Altamira.

Finally, what of ritual? It is a difficult term, and a construct really of a scientific rationality. As Brück has highlighted, those practices we identify as ritual are normally marked out by their alterity, but that alterity is a product of cultural difference emergent between ourselves and past actors (Brück 1999).We gloss practices as ritual because we don’t possess the framework to comprehend them, or comprehend the logic of their affect. Even the concepts of belief and religion, often lurking as a substrate somewhere under ‘ritual’, reflect an ontological distinction that emerged in Western modernity (Fowles 2013). What we are seeing are acts that might be glossed in the same way as Fowles describes Pueblo ‘doings’. These are active engagements with the world undertaken in order to preserve its order, flow and presence: essential technologies for the reproduction and regulation of all things. To understand these is to get at the heart of life in its myriad forms. The traces observed through the lens of a microscope open up to offer insight into bigger worlds. Bibliography Brück, Joanna. 1999. “Ritual and Rationality: Some Problems of Interpretation in European Archaeology.” European Journal of Archaeology 2 (3): 313–44. Bye-Jensen, Peter. 2019. “Causewayed Enclosures under the Microscope.” University of Southampton. Fowles, Severin M. 2013. “An Archaeology of Doings.” Secularism and the Study of Pueblo Religion, Santa Fe. Gijn, AnneLou Van. 2010. Flint in Focus: Lithic Biographies in the Neolithic and Bronze Age. Leiden: Sidestone Press, 2010. Gosden, Chris, and Yvonne Marshall. 1999. “The Cultural Biography of Objects.” World Archaeology 31 (2): 169–78. Hallam, Elizabeth, and Jenny Hockey. 2001. Death, Memory and Material Culture. Unknown Publisher. Ingold, Tim. 2007. “Materials against Materiality.” Archaeological Dialogues 14 (1): 1–16. Joyce, Rosemary A., and Susan D. Gillespie. 2015. “Things in Motion.” In Things in Motion - Objects Itineraries in Anthropological Practice, edited by Rosemary A. Joyce and Susan D. Gillespie. Santa Fe: SAR Press. x

Foreword structuration of deposition, whilst others attempted to reconstruct the complete biography of the artefacts and the ritual practices. The temporal and geographic scope of these papers, likewise varies– from Mesolithic Scandinavia, Neolithic practices found across Eastern, Central, Northern and Western Europe and even some research that stretches in to the Eneoltihic and touching upon the Copper Age and early Bronze Age of central Europe. However, one thing was shared by all authors in the proceedings, the sense that one is able to create a narrative of an artefacts’ life-biography by engaging scientific methods.

This book is inspired by a session held at EAA conference in Vilnius in 2016 that was titled The Life Biography of Artefacts and Ritual Practice, chaired by the two editors of this volume. The concept of this session came about in 2015 whilst we were both deep into our respective PhDs. One about Mesolithic hoarding in Southern Scandinavia, the other about activities at causewayed enclosures in Neolithic Southern Britain. Through collaboration we got inspired to create a session at the conference about the “things” in our research, the material culture, that we were both studying. We found out that we both approached the analysis of our artefacts in the same way, namely through the concept of artefact life-biographies. We both employed the idea that it is possible through different approaches to peel back layers of an artefact’s life-biography. Therefore, we set out to see how contemporary researchers in Europe viewed and applied this approach.

These methods incorporated into these studies extended beyond what we originally expected– including TIR and micro FT-Raman spectral analysis, morphometric ballistic analysis, technological analysis, chromatographic analysis, experimental archaeology and of course micro and macroscopic use-wear analysis. These different scientific approaches are used to analyse everything from amber pendants; various lithic, bone, shell and antler tools, ornaments and raw material; as well as ceramic vessels and figurines. The scale of the research ranged from the study of a single artefact, or artefact type, to data from an individual site, to regionalised studies of particular practices as well as comparative studies of different forms of ritual practices.

This session focussed on creating biographies from material culture as a means of understanding the relationship between the life of an artefact and its final deposition. The aim of the session was to look through the vast span of time from the Palaeolithic to the end of the Neolithic, and let researchers present examples of conceivable “chains of practices” that culminated in ritual(ized) depositions. From well used and unused, to sharpened and dulled and to burnt and broken, objects undergo multiple stages and “chains of practices” prior to the final deposition. However, this life history of an object is all too rarely taken into account when archaeologists discuss ritual depositions. As such research has all too often focussed on the deposition as the ritual, rather than the deposition as part of a larger practice that culminated but is not limited to the deposition. In order to rectify this, in this session the presenters addressed the narratives of ritual(ized) practices by studying the biography of the objects contained within depositions. By studying ritual practices using a biographical approach it was argued that it allowed a better understanding of the temporality of the practices that culminated in the deposition including, but not limited to, the creation, use, transformation, selection, arrangement and curation of artefacts. The ambition was to create a synthesis about life biographies of artefacts from the Stone Age via practises and activities that the material culture reflects.

Whilst some authors focussed on the ritual object or practice itself, others contextualised their results by comparing to sites and features often not considered as ritual, as well as to different forms of ritual practices. In this way some authors were able to contribute to increasing our understanding of the relationship between different scales of practices and different spheres of life. This allowed the identification of unknown and overlooked attributes of these finds and features, a better understanding of the patterning and idiosyncrasies within diverse ritual practices, and even new ways of understanding past landscape perceptions. It is hoped that both students and more senior academics alike find the range of case studies enlightening and informative. It is also hoped that these papers in their entirety will inspire others to apply or to advance the methodological and theoretical framework to other sets of artefacts and practices further afield.

Through, the various presentations during this session, and the subsequent papers in this volume, it was refreshing to see the widely different approaches to this biographically based method. Some were more methodical, while others more theoretical. Some focussed on the birth of the objects, others on their use-life, others on the transformations that the objects underwent, others on the curation and

Mathias Bjørnevad and Peter Bye-Jensen

xi

1 Taking a closer look – causewayed enclosures through the lens of a large-scale use-wear analysis project Peter Bye-Jensen This paper presents a closer look at the phenomenon of monumentality in the early Neolithic, at a micro-scale. The methodological approach is use-wear analysis of flint assemblages from selected contexts in a number of well excavated early Neolithic causewayed enclosures in southern Britain and southern Scandinavia. The UK sites include: Etton (Cambridgeshire) and Staines (Surrey), with reference also being made to preliminary analyses of assemblages from Hambledon Hill (Dorset) and Windmill Hill (Wiltshire); for southern Scandinavia, Sarup (Denmark). Results from the use-wear analysis offer a way of characterizing activities at these sites that has not been taken before. In particular, use-wear analysis has been able to reveal some of the encapsulated life biographies that the flint artefacts hold, and in this way contributes to understanding the temporality in depositional practices at causewayed enclosures. The project has also sought to develop method in use-wear analysis, notably through the use of high-end digital microscope technology in combination with a conventional microscope. ​ Introduction

flint assemblages from selected contexts of a number of well-excavated early Neolithic causewayed enclosures in southern Britain and southern Scandinavia. The British sites included in the research are: Etton (Cambridgeshire), Staines (Surrey), Windmill Hill (Wiltshire), Crickley Hill (Gloucestershire) and Caerau (Cardiff); for southern Scandinavia, Sarup I (Denmark) and with reference also being made to preliminary analyses of assemblages from Hambledon Hill (Dorset). Results from the use-wear analysis offer a way of characterizing activities at these sites that have not been taken before. In addition to the monuments, the causewayed enclosures, I included the material from a settlement near the enclosure at Sarup, the settlement Skaghorn (N. H. Andersen 2000). This was to enable comparison of use patterns between stone tools from the selected monuments and a contemporary settlement. Furthermore, to compare possible similarities and differences in activities at causewayed enclosures with those at long barrows, I also included the long barrow Ascott-under-Wychwood in the selection of sites (Benson, Whittle, and Al 2007).

In archaeology most time is spent dealing with material culture in one way or another. However, it is easily forgotten that this material culture… the things… all have a life-biography and a life-itinerary that when revealed can contribute to our understanding of the culture in focus. As an example, I will later showcase the concept life-biography in regard to the wear of flint artefacts. The life-itinerary approach follows where the artefact is in its life now, such as in a museum collection, and where it was before (Joyce and Gillespie 2015). Below I would like to showcase how I have used the concept of life-biography through combining use-wear analysis and taphonomic observations that will enable us to shed new light on the formal behaviour or treatment of the artefacts prior to deposition. At the EAA conference in 2016 I presented a paper with the title “Taking a closer look – causewayed enclosures through the lens of a large-scale use-wear analysis”. This presentation represented a halfway point for my PhD research, and included results from analysis of artefacts from a majority of the sites included in the research. This research was made in the slipstream of the milestone project in research in the British Neolithic called Gathering Time (Whittle et al. 2011). This project concerned itself with the time and timings of the construction of monuments in the early Neolithic Britain, mainly causewayed enclosures but also a series of other types of site such as settlements and long barrows. Since then I have completed my research and most of my findings are published in my thesis (ByeJensen 2019). The focus of this paper is to highlight some of these findings and present a closer look at the phenomenon of monumentality in the early Neolithic, at a micro scale. The methodological approach is use-wear analysis of

The application of the method of use-wear analysis to the selected material showed this to be exceptional in its ability to reveal some of the encapsulated life biographies that the flint artefacts hold, and in this way, contributes to understanding the temporality in depositional practices at causewayed enclosures. The project also sought to develop the method of use-wear analysis, notably through the use of high-end digital microscope technology in combination with a conventional microscope. One of the ways of gaining new knowledge about the activities that flint artefacts were involved in prehistory is use-wear analysis. When the conditions for analysis are optimal, this kind of microscope-based investigation 1

Peter Bye-Jensen offers a suite of information such as what the worked contact material would have been (wood, hide, meat, bone, plant materials), how the tool worked in this contact material (sawing, scraping, cutting etc.) and, potentially, even intimate details about the user of the tools such as the intensity of work and in which hand the tool was held during this work (A. Van Gijn 1990; Jensen 1994; Van den Dries M. 1997; Vaughan 1985). Therefore, the research presented here offers a way of looking closely at the temporality of artefact deposition, consequently enabling a narrative of the analysed artefact’s life-biography (A. Van Gijn 2010).

which inference is validated via a comprehensive dataset of experimental replicas. Thus, creating an analogue to the use of prehistoric flint artefacts. This method has been used for several decades (Curwen 1930; Rots et al. 2016). However, weathering and other surface modifications are normal reasons for discarding prehistoric artefacts for usewear analysis. In the presented research, I have used these features to peel away the layers of life biography that the surface modification is a result of. The result is a narrative of the temporality of deposition of the artefacts. However, this research employs an innovative narrative that normally has been a reason for discarding a prehistoric artefact for use-wear analysis, i.e. surface modification or weathering. This approach seeks to connect these observations of taphonomy with the use of the individual flint tools. Thus, creating a biography of treatment after use but before final deposition.

The scope of the analysis has been to examine the activities at causewayed enclosures and from a diachronic perspective find any possible change in the activities that the flint tools were involved in from the primary phases of use to the last phases just before the abandonment of the monuments.

The present research has primarily been carried out with the use of a Dinolite digital microscope with a magnification between x20 and x200 times magnification. This zoomrange enables both low- and high-power approaches to the material. The main advantage of using this kind of microscope is that it enables the use-wear analysist to become mobile, and travel to the flint assemblages selected for analysis. Furthermore, the reproduction of documentation in the shape of imagery is made easy with the computer-based software of this portable solution. I would not recommend to only use digital microscopy as having seen the use-wear traces in a conventional reflected light microscope would be crucial, i.e. the traces in the digital microscope can sometimes vary slightly in their expression in comparison to the conventionally observed traces (see Figure 1.1 and Figure 1.2).

This analysis has presently documented robust observations of the assumed usage of the flint artefacts at the selected causewayed enclosure and consolidated previously ambiguous information about the tool traditions and activities that the artefacts from the ditches of the causewayed enclosures are the results of. I have elaborated in more detail about these results in more detail in my PhD (Bye-Jensen 2019). The present paper will focus on showcasing the method that has been employed to reveal the life biographies of the analysed sample of flint artefacts. Method of investigation Use-wear analysis is normally carried out with a microscope in different lower and higher magnifications. The lower magnifications (x20-x100) display the edge-damage and edge-rounding an artefact might have endured during work in a given contact material (Tringham, Cooper, and Odell 1974; Keeley 1980; Vaughan 1985; Rots 2005; McPherron et al. 2014). The damage and abrasion of the flint tools edges is dependent on the hardness of the worked material, but also the duration of this work. Additionally, it is in the lower magnifications that one can look for residuals like starch, blood, fibres and fat, which might have survived the test of time (Rots et al. 2016). Furthermore, environmental factors as introduction to sunlight, water and chemicals from the context that the flint artefacts have been deposited in and frost-damage can be used to tell more about the pre-depositional life the artefacts had (Bye-Jensen 2019). I shall return to this observation later.

As mentioned above, the result presented at the EAA session rested on use-wear observations from Etton, Staines, Windmill Hill and Sarup I (Denmark). However, the analysis of the other sites in my research did not change the results, but rather contributed to and underpinned the previous observations. In this paper, I will use some of the results from the causewayed enclosure at Etton as it has given the clearest results, however, as mentioned before the observations are more or less analogue between the sites. Though the analysis of selected material from Crickley Hill is not suitable for comparison as it focuses on the flint arrowheads that are a special feature of this site. (For more in-depth study of the results see Bye-Jensen 2019). The results of the analysis is that most of the flint artefacts display traces of having been used. However, the observed use traces are mostly from ad hoc use and is, therefore, reveals themselves as very weak or generic traces. In total almost 70% of all analysed flint artefacts from the causewayed enclosure at Etton had traces diagnostic with use such as edge-damage, edge-rounding and/or polish as a result of using the tool. Only a few flint artefacts display a very extensive use. Therefore, it is very likely that the artefacts have only been involved in one episode of ad hoc

The high magnifications (x100–500) enables the observer to view and determine so-called polishes which are the traces of contact with worked materials, e.g. hide, plant, wood and so on (Keeley 1980). Furthermore, the polishes can reveal the motion in which the artefact worked through the direction of the polish, or striations in or from the polishes (Marreiros et al. 2015). This is the conventional methodology behind use-wear analysis, 2

Taking a closer look – causewayed enclosures through the lens of a large-scale use-wear analysis project

Figure 1.1. Photo of the same area near the tip of an experimental tanged arrowhead. To the right the USB microscope and to the left the conventional (Nikon Eclipse LVT 120).

Figure 1.2. Picture shows the area visible in a conventional microscope framed in red. This picture is superimposed on the digital image of the same area but taken with a USB microscope.

use. The activities that the artefacts have been involved in are various, e.g. woodworking, hide processing, crafting bone objects, processing plants, food processing and butchering. It would be tempting and plausible to connect

all these activities to events like large-scale feasting or construction of an enormous monument as the enclosures are (Bradley 2004). The flint artefacts could have been involved in these events. However, some categories of 3

Peter Bye-Jensen and intact (Robertson-Mackay et al. 1987; Middleton 1998; Whittle, Pollard, and Grigson 1999). Nevertheless, through the lens of the microscope one observes a different story. The surface of the flint artefacts almost all bears traces of weathering. Experiments conducted to compliment this research has shown that flint tools can gain this kind of surface modification exposed to an openair environment for approximately over the timespan of a year (see Figure 1.3 to Figure 1.7) (Bye-Jensen 2019).

artefacts such as flint, pottery and bones from the selected causewayed enclosures almost all display weathering to some degree. Not so much so that high magnification identification of the worked contact materials on the flint artefacts was impossible. In fact, identification of use-wear polishes of the selected assemblages has been relatively high at Etton and almost no artefacts were discarded for analysis. Furthermore, flint artefacts can gain patina in their archaeological context. In general, the flint artefacts from the sampled causewayed enclosures come across as ‘fresh’

Figure 1.3. Examples of the surface modification mentioned. The picture on the left displays the beginning white patina from sunlight (UV-radiation) and an alkaline environment. The photo to the right displays exposure to an acidic environment. Both examples are experimental.

Figure 1.4. Surface of freshly struck experimental flint flake, before deposition, x20 magnification.

4

Taking a closer look – causewayed enclosures through the lens of a large-scale use-wear analysis project

Figure 1.5. Same flint flake as Figure 1.4, after exposure to an outdoor environment for one year, x20 magnification.

Figure 1.6. Weathering on serrated-edge flake from Windmill Hill, dorsal side x200 magnification. The milky white spots and film indicate exposure to sunlight.

5

Peter Bye-Jensen

Figure 1.7. Weathering on serrated-edge flake from Windmill Hill, Ventral side x200 magnification. The glossy sheen indicates possible contact with organic material present in the depositional context, besides micro-friction with dirt.

The experimental replicas and the prehistoric artefacts show no signs of weathering with the naked eye, but under the microscope, one sees a slightly weathered surface in the form of a glossy sheen. Additionally, the flint gains a patina from sunlight, which is also visible on both the experimental replicas and the prehistoric flint artefacts. These observations of surface modification are very relative, and one should not rely on them as a method for dating the flint artefacts (H. H. Andersen and Whitlow 1983).

curation could have happened on site at the causewayed enclosures, most likely in a midden-type context on a surface exposed to the weather. Alternatively, the objects for deposition could have been stored in a secure context in the settlement that would be collected from when the time was right to deposit them. Additionally, none of the analysed artefacts had any traces of surviving residuals one them. This underpins the assumption that the flint artefacts have been kept somewhere else before deposition. The use-wear analysis of the causewayed enclosure Etton reinforces the statement above the clearest, but also adds another level of observation.

The archaeological context, the ditches, have typically been backfilled immediately after the artefacts were deposited in them (Pryor 1998, 357, Andersen 2013). This can be argued by the simple fact that there are rarely any silting lines, if any at all, at the bottom of the ditches or the bottom of the recuts of these (Midgley 1992, 345). Silting lines would have formed at the bottom of the ditches if these were open for more than a day or two (N. H. Andersen 2014). This of cause depends on the composition of the layer or layers. Silting lines forms more easily in sand and loose gravel, but slower on established gravels and chalk. Consequently, the flint artefacts must have gained the weathered surface and patina before they were put in the ditch. This verifies the hypothesis by Humphry Case (Case 1969) and Isobel Smith (Smith 1971) that the artefacts in the ditches of the causewayed enclosures were curated, saved and stored, before their final deposition. This

The causewayed enclosure at Etton was created in a place in the landscape that would seasonally flood the western half of the site. This occasional partial coverage of the monument would probably have played an important role in a ritual involving a symbolic dualism of the two halves of the enclosure, i.e. the western arc could have symbolised nature or ‘the wild’ and the eastern arc could be the human and ‘domesticated’ (Pryor 1998, 365). In the western arc of the enclosure the flint artefacts have gained a patina through exposure to water and sunlight. This then answers a previous hypothesis made about whether the artefacts were covered or uncovered immediately after deposition in the ditch. Only one side of a majority of the flint artefacts that have this patina. Therefore, in this particular case, the flint artefacts must have been deposited in the ditch 6

Taking a closer look – causewayed enclosures through the lens of a large-scale use-wear analysis project when it was freshly dug, and then left there long enough to gain water-induced patina. None of the analysed flint artefacts from the other selection of monuments had this kind of patina. Ultimately, the flint artefacts were covered up never to be uncovered again, i.e. before Francis Pryor and his team found them 1982–87 (Pryor 1998).

of the debitage from tool production is simply not brought to the site or deposited in the features of the enclosures. This fact also highlights the selective nature behind the choice of flint artefacts for deposition. In fact, to showcase the results from Etton, two-thirds of the so-called waste flakes had traces of use (Bye-Jensen 2019). This means that the number of used flint tools could have been even greater than anticipated.

The same treatment was not observed in the results of the analysis of the selected artefacts from the eastern side of the enclosure. The analysed sample of artefacts from the eastern arc displayed weathering that was not more dominant on one side of the artefacts than the other. This weathering of the flint artefacts strongly indicate that the sample had been left exposed to the elements for a while before deposition. One might argue that the surface modification could have happened to the artefacts in situ, but the chemistry of the soil would not result in this kind of surface features. One of the factors in the soil chemistry is the PH value. Some of my experiments shows that when the PH value is 4 or below the acidity of the soil can give the flint artefacts a glossy windblown sheen. Moreover, when the PH value is above 10 the flint artefact gains a white patina. However, the surface modification gained during this exposure has not obliviated the traces of use. This tells us that the temporality between initial use of the tools, exposure to the elements and deposition can be read in the surface modification. My estimates are that it would take experimental flint tools between one to two years to gain the same amount of surface modification as the prehistoric artefacts. However, more research needs to be made in surface modification to give a more nuanced picture of this observation.

The result of the presented analysis enables us to gain a much more nuanced view into the dynamics of the structured deposition of which the flint artefacts form a consistent part of. It is important to know about the use of the flint tools that the prehistoric cultures used as it gives us a picture of which activities were performed on-site. However, the present analysis shows a varied set of observed activities. There is no singular use such as woodworking or food processing present at any of the sites. Instead, the impression is that the flint tools deposited at the causewayed enclosures represent a broad task-scape. This is not the only point that my research wants to make. Rather, the selection of tools for deposition and the way that surface modification has shown to create a narrative of temporality for them. Semantically, the tools change from being tools that had an active use-life in a prehistoric culture to be artefacts and tokens representing this culture. Again, the importance of the deposited flint artefacts does not seem to lie in what they have been used for, but that they have been used and therefore perhaps the activity that they were used in. Thus, it was an important act to curate these artefacts and deposit them away from where they were used. Through this act of storage, the tools turned to into artefacts, relics, and transformed from representing individual tasks to representing the work of a whole settlement. This research supports the questions about the extended temporality behind the deposition of flint artefacts. The flint artefacts were kept for a while before they were deposited. Moreover, not only the flint artefacts but also other categories of artefacts such as pottery and bone play a part in this curation. This furthers the discussion about long the artefacts were stored for. The answer can again be found in the surface modification of the flint artefacts, especially in the lack of frost damage that the flint artefacts have sustained. Based on this lack of frost damage and the added weathering, I estimate a span of two to a maximum of five years between the time of final use and that of final deposition, an observation gained through based on experiments and analysis of selected artefacts from the mentioned sites (Bye-Jensen 2019).

Results have also been obtained through the analyses of the causewayed enclosures Staines and Sarup I (Denmark), and preliminary analysis of the causewayed enclosure at Windmill Hill that are comparable to the case study of Etton. The implications of this study contribute further to the discussion about the backfilling of the ditches of the causewayed enclosures. If the ditches would have been allowed to be naturally backfilled by windblown sediment, and eventually the spoil heap of soil that was in the ditch, then the flint artefacts would have been much more abraded than they are. Additionally, if the flint artefacts had been deposited and left for a while prior to deposition, then left in an open ditch for a year, so they could be covered by water, I would not expect that use-wear polishes would have been obliviated. Selection

Conclusion

The unusually high percentage of used flint artefacts indicates that it was a known fact to the people that deposited the artefacts that they were used. It was an important part of the aesthetics and structuring of the depositions. Moreover, the typological variation of the flint artefacts deposited in the ditches of the causewayed enclosures in southern Britain seems to be more or less the same (Saville 2002). Additionally, there is a lack of flint debitage when considering a tool to debitage ration. Some

A largescale use-wear analysis of selected British causewayed enclosures is concluded. Some of the previous hypothetical interpretations about the use and treatment of the flint artefacts at causewayed enclosures have been supported by these use-wear analysis results. The presented paper highlights that it was used flint artefacts that were selected for deposition in the ditches of the causewayed enclosures. Furthermore, surface 7

Peter Bye-Jensen

Figure 1.8 - Artistic impression of the act of deposition of selected artefacts in a ditch of a causewayed enclosure (in Peter ByeJensen 2019 by Tom Lock).

8

Taking a closer look – causewayed enclosures through the lens of a large-scale use-wear analysis project modification of flint artefacts was once a reason to discard flint artefacts for analysis but has now been proven to be a feature to determine temporality of exposure to weathering prior to deposition. The surface modification tells us that a majority of the artefacts have been curated before deposition in the ditches of these enigmatic monuments. This conclusion can be reached as experiments with weathering of flint tools linked to this research estimates this period to be about or just over one year. Further research must be conducted in this field to substantiate this observation. Perhaps further research will be able to pinpoint the temporality of events in the life biography of flint artefacts even more accurately. However, the present study shows that the flint artefacts from the selected causewayed enclosures are likely to have been placed prior to deposition in the ditches in an exposed open-air environment long enough for them to gain a surface modification on one surface, but not long enough for the use-wear traces to be destroyed. Using surface modification to gain a narrative about the treatment of the flint artefacts enables us to use this feature to tell a more nuanced picture of the possible formal or ritual choices behind the selection of artefacts.

Dries M., Van Gijn A. Van den. 1997. “The Representativity of Experimental Userwear Traces.” In Siliceous Rocks and Culture, edited by A. Ramos Millàn and M.A. Bustillo, 499–513. Granada: UNIVERSIDAD DE GRANADA. Gijn, AnneLou Van. 1990. The Wear and Tear of Flint Principles of Functional Analysis Applied to Dutch Neolithic Assemblages. Edited by A.L. Van Gijn and M. Wanders. Leiden: Analecta Praehistorica Leidensia. ———. 2010. Flint in Focus: Lithic Biographies in the Neolithic and Bronze Age. Leiden: Sidestone Press, 2010. Jensen, Helle Juel. 1994. Flint Tools and Plant Working Hidden Traces of Stone Age Technology. Århus: Aarhus University Press. Joyce, Rosemary A., and Susan D. Gillespie. 2015. “Things in Motion.” In Things in Motion - Objects Itineraries in Anthropological Practice, edited by Rosemary A. Joyce and Susan D. Gillespie. Santa Fe: SAR Press. Keeley, Lawrence H. 1980. Experimental Determination of Stone Tool Uses. Edited by Karl W. Butzer and Leslie G. Freeman. Prehistori. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.

Bibliography Andersen, Hans Henrik, and Harry J. Whitlow. 1983. “Wear Traces and Patination on Danish Flint Artefacts.” Nuclear Instruments and Methods in Physics Research 218: 468–74.

Marreiros, João, Niccollò Mazzucco, Juan F Gibaja, and Nuno Bicho. 2015. “Use-Wear and Residue Analysis in Archaeology,” 5–26. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3319-08257-8.

Andersen, Niels H. 2000. “Rapport over Udgravninger Af Lokaliteten Skaghorn OBM 4087.” Højbjerg.

McPherron, Shannon P., David R. Braun, Tamara Dogandžić, Will Archer, Dawit Desta, and Sam C. Lin. 2014. “An Experimental Assessment of the Influences on Edge Damage to Lithic Artifacts: A Consideration of Edge Angle, Substrate Grain Size, Raw Material Properties, and Exposed Face.” Journal of Archaeological Science 49 (1): 70–82. https://doi. org/10.1016/j.jas.2014.04.003.

———. 2013. “The Causewayed Enclosure at Sarup Construction and Duration.” Les Sites Fortifiés de La Préhistoire : Nouvelles Données, Nouvelles Approches, 150–65. ———. 2014. “Gathering Time: Dating the Early Neolithic Enclosures of Southern Britain and Ireland.” European Journal of Archaeology 9571 (December): 555–61. https://doi.org/10.1179/146195714X13820028678287.

Middleton. 1998. “Flint and Chert Artefacts.” In Etton Excavations at a Neolithic Causewayed Enclosure near Maxey Cambridgeshire, 1982–7, edited by Francis Pryor, 215–41. English Heritage.

Benson, Don, Alasdair Whittle, et al. 2007. Building Memories: The Neolithic Cotswold Long Barrow at Ascott-under-Wychwood, Oxfordshire. Edited by Don Benson and Alasdair Whittle. Oxbow books.

Midgley, MS. 1992. TRB Culture: The First Farmers of the North European Plain. Edinburgh University Press. Pryor, Francis. 1998. Etton - Excavations at a Neolithic Causewayed Enclosure near Maxey Cambridgeshire, 1982–7. English Heritage.

Bradley, Philippa. 2004. “Causewayed Enclosures: Monumentality, Architecture, and Spatial Distribution of Artefacts-the Evidence from Staines, Surrey.” CBA RESEARCH REPORT, 115–23.

Robertson-Mackay, Reay, S Butcher, F Cameron, H Chandra, B Conway, J Dawes, F Dimes, et al. 1987. “The Neolithic Causewayed Enclosure at Staines , Surrey : Excavations The Neolithic Causewayed Enclosure at Staines , Surrey : Excavations 1961–63” 53 (1987): 23–128. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0079497X00006174.

Bye-Jensen, Peter. 2019. “Causewayed Enclosures under the Microscope.” University of Southampton. Case, Humphrey. 1969. “Settlement-Patterns in the North Irish Neolithic.” Ulster Journal of Archaeology, Third Series, 32 (January): 3–27. https://doi. org/10.2307/20567640.

Rots, Veerle. 2005. “Wear Traces and the Interpretation of Stone Tools.” Journal of Field Archaeology 30 (1): 61–73. https://doi.org/10.1179/009346905791072404.

Curwen, Cecil. 1930. “Prehistoric Flint Sickles.” Antiquity 4 (January): 179–86. 9

Peter Bye-Jensen Rots, Veerle, Elspeth Hayes, Dries Cnuts, Christian Lepers, and Richard Fullagar. 2016. “Making Sense of Residues on Flaked Stone Artefacts: Learning from Blind Tests.” Plos One 11 (3): e0150437. https://doi. org/10.1371/journal.pone.0150437. Saville, Alan. 2002. “Lithic Artefacts from Neolithic Causewayed Enclosures: Character and Meaning.” In Enclosures in Neolithic Europe, edited by Gillian Varndell and Peter Topping, 91–105. Oxford: Oxbow Books. Smith, Isobel. 1971. “Causewayed Enclosures.” Edited by D.D.A. Simpson. Economy and Settlement in Neolithic and Early Bronze Age Britain and Europe, no. May: 89–112. Tringham, Ruth, Glenn Cooper, and George Odell. 1974. “Experimentation in the Formation of Edge Damage: A New Approach to Lithic Analysis.” Journal of Field Archaeology 1 (1): 171–96. Vaughan, Patrick C. 1985. Use-Wear Analysis of Flaked Stone Tools. University of Arizona Press. Whittle, Alasdair, Frances Healy, and Alex Bayliss. 2011. Gathering Time - Dating the Early Neolithic Enclosures of Southern Britain and Ireland. Oxbow Books. Whittle, Alasdair, Joshua Pollard, and Caroline Grigson. 1999. The Harmony of Symbols - The Windmill Hill Causewayed Enclosure, Wiltshire. Oxford: Oxbow Books.

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2 Endless life of tools and vessels from the Neolithic contexts in SW Poland Bernadeta Kufel-Diakowska, Marta Mozgała-Swacha, Joanna KałużnaCzaplińska, Angelina Rosiak, Henryk Stoksik This paper presents the results of the biographical studies of selected objects deposited in the Neolithic graves from SW Poland. Our studies are based on the analysis of flint implements with macroscopically visible sickle gloss and three kinds of ceramic vessels - footed vessel, a double handled pitcher and a bath-shaped vessel. To study “the life” of things we applied microscopic observations of use-wear traces, analysis of raw material and technological features of flint tools, residue analysis (GC-MS) and analysis of physical properties of the pottery. We compared typologically similar objects from settlement contexts looking for any similarities or differences in the methods of production and use. The results of our studies show that tools and vessels from graves were used before the deposition. There are no differences in wear development of sickle inserts and ceramic vessels deposited in graves and settlement structures but there are some differences in the quality of flint tools. Introduction

Jordanów culture, because of its highly standardized and richly furnished burials. We focus on a selected groups of artefact categories to try to determine their function and to estimate their degree of use. We want to answer following questions: were they designed and made especially for the dead and never used before? Were they involved in funeral practices or were used earlier by the deceased or by his/ her family members? Then, we compare the biographies of these selected mortuary artefacts to typologically similar objects from settlement contexts looking for any similarities or differences in the methods of production and use.

Objects made from various raw materials are recorded in burial pits dated to nearly every prehistoric period. The presence or absence of a particular type of object is often considered to reflect concerns about cultural and social norms that must have been obeyed in the past. Grave goods are mostly interpreted as a supply for the dead person on their journey into other world and/or associated with the identity and social status of the dead. The latter interpretation especially concerns jewellery as well as weaponry and tools (Parker Pearson 1999; Sarauw 2007).

Materials and methods

A biographical approach, understood as analysis of “a use and social life” of artefacts, is rarely applied to the studies of grave goods in Poland. That results with a common opinion that grave goods did not have a prior domestic use. The application of physico-chemical analysis of pottery and usewear observations of metal artefacts have, however, led to a reassessment of our understanding of the biography of such grave goods (Sych 2015; Korczyńska et al. 2018).

Neolithic settlements in Lower Silesia, SW Poland have been hardly recognised due to the low number of excavated sites and few radiocarbon dates (Czarniak 2012). The archaeological evidence discussed in this paper come from three Eneolithic sites that have been investigated within the last 120 years (Figure 1). The sites are from the called the Jordanów culture, which belonged to the Post-Linear Pottery tradition and flourished c. 4250–4000 BC. The sites differ according to the function, and included both settlement pits and graves, including a burial ground, as well as the rich collections of lithic artefacts.

Neolithic graves are rich in objects made from various raw materials and thus they provide comprehensive data for studying the meaning of grave goods. Most of the studies on funeral rites concentrate, however, on types of artefacts and relations between objects, sex and age of the dead (Czekaj-Zastawny 2009; Zakościelna 2010). No functional studies of fired ceramic wares have been undertaken so far. Use-wear analysis of lithic and bone artefacts has, however, shown that tools given to the dead were often used before the deposition (Diakowski 2017; Kufel-Diakowska et al. 2017).

The cemetery site of Domasław, represents a particular important site due to its recent excavation and the large number of burials found at the site. The site no 10/11/12 was excavated in 2007 by the Polish Academy of Sciences in the course of rescue excavations prior to a highway construction. In the excavated area of 15,4671 m2 more than 13,000 pits have been recorded, dated from the Neolithic to the Roman Period (Gediga 2012). The cemetery of the Jordanów culture was located in the north-east part of

This paper, thus, aims to reveal the biography of lithic and ceramic grave goods. We chose the Eneolithic 11

Kufel-Diakowska, Mozgała-Swacha, Kałużna-Czaplińska, Rosiak, Stoksik

Figure 2.1. Archaeological sites mentioned in text.

and Mozgała-Swacha 2014). The size of excavated area and the spatial distribution of finds is unable to be studies, due to the lack of documentation of excavations, which has been lost during the war. Nevertheless, reports with descriptions of some pits and graves, as well as particular objects, are still available in Wrocław City Archives and Archaeological Museum Archives (Kufel-Diakowska et al. 2019). The chronology of pits is based on the analysis of typologically datable artefact.

the site. The grave field covered the area of 800 m2 and contained 24 graves. One more burial pit was found in the considerable distance from this field, at the edge of the excavated area. Graves were placed in rows, 0.7 m to 3 m away from each other (Mozgała and Murzyński 2017). Most of the graves are wealthily furnished and well preserved, showing the original layout of skeletons and grave goods, including objects made from organic materials. The chronology of the site was determined on the basis of C14 samples taken from human bones and bone artefacts. Using the Bayesian radiocarbon modelling the cemetery can be dated between 4247–4135 BC and 4148–4026 BC. It was, thus, in use for approximately 3–4 generations (Furmanek and Mozgała-Swacha 2017).

The site no 17 at Tyniec Mały was accidentally discovered in the 1830s and then excavated in the 1970s and 1980s, also in the course of rescue excavations. These excavations covered the area of 1,450 m2 and yielded 54 features, including long ditches, graves, postholes and pits of other functions. All of the structures are related to the Jordanów culture, nevertheless no absolute dating had been performed, until now. The ditches were located in the southern and western part of the site whereas other features were found both south and north-east of the ditches. The spatial distribution of the pits is difficult to study, because only part of the site is unearthed so far. The remains of the ditch system from Tyniec Mały that formed a kind of enclosure is interpreted as corral for keeping cattle (Furmanek 2017).

The site no 5 at Jordanów Śląski was unearthed in the course of rescue excavations carried out at the turn of 19th and 20th century, prior to a railway construction. The collection of finds has been diminished during the World War II, but is still rich and valuable. During the several excavations seasons archaeologists recorded at least 71 settlement pits and graves identified with the Jordanów culture, or that contained remains of other Neolithic cultural units, including the Linear Pottery culture, Funnel Beaker culture and Globular Amphora culture (Seger 1906, 1919; Dreczko 12

Endless life of tools and vessels from the Neolithic contexts in SW Poland We selected two groups of artefacts for this study: flint implements with macroscopically visible sickle gloss and three types of ceramic vessels - footed vessels, double handled pitchers and bath-shaped vessels. They come from the objects of various functions, such as settlement pits, ditches and graves.

hammer (Kufel-Diakowska et al. 2017). The size of blanks detached from Jurassic and erratic cores differ, as raw material sources located in the Polish Jurassic Highland, more than 200 km east, offered larger flint nodules than local erratic deposits. The sickle inserts from graves are more uniform in respect of their types and made from larger, more carefully selected blades. Most commonly they are truncated pieces with denticulate retouch on one of the lateral edges or without accompanying edge modification (Figure 2.2: 7–11; 2.3: 1–7; 2.4: 1–12, 14). The length of the complete sickle blades exceeds 5 cm in most cases and with some as long as 8.2 cm, this is the case for blades made from Jurassic and erratic flint. There are also differences between the quality of sickle blades found in particular parts of the grave. For example, some of the sickle blades from distinct concentrations in the graves were made from the technological waste products, such as crested blade or other types of retouched tools, including end-scrapers.

To study “the life” of things we need to find out how and how long objects were used, and how and why they were made. The biography of the archaeological artefacts can be investigated by the analysis of the production process and the function of objects (Gijn 2010). We applied a variety of analytical methods: use-wear observations and the analysis of technological features of flint tools, including raw material determination as well as residue analysis (GC-MS) and analysis of physical properties of pottery1. The studies of the residues from the Neolithic pottery in SW Poland are in preliminary stages at the moment. For that reason we used samples dated back to the Lengyel culture as well (Zarzyca 6, Księginice Wielkie 29) (Czarniak 2009; Fabisiak and Cholewa 2002), chronologically close to the Jordanów finds. Additional data is derived from the context and preservation of the analysed finds.

There is a clear difference in preservation and quality of the sickle blades depending on their contexts. At the sites in Tyniec and Jordanów randomly distributed single sickle blades were found in waste pits and ditches. According to the typology, they represent various types of tools, such as truncated pieces, retouched blades and end-scrapers (Figures 2.2: 1–6; 2.3: 8–13). The length of complete specimens rarely exceeds 5 cm and varies between 2.9 cm and 5.1 cm. Traces of use are well developed. Highly rounded cutting edges are covered by flat reflected gloss, rarely intersected by tiny scratches or comet-shaped pits run parallel to the edge (see Figure 2.6). Due to the small size of the sickle inserts they rarely broke. Instead the opposing cutting edges were re-used for other purposes afterwards. Occasionally they were modified into other forms. Some of them bear traces of multiple stages of use along various working edges. Worn out implements were then most likely replaced by new ones. The life-cycle of sickle blades in the settlement pits, was thus long, but completed when they were discarded.

Sickle blades Sickle blades are flint implements with macroscopically visible well-developed use-polish called “sickle gloss”. They appeared in the lithic assemblages north of Carpathians and Sudetes together with the introduction of agricultural practices. The complete form of the Neolithic and early Eneolithic sickle in the Central Europe is reconstructed only based on the distribution of use-wear traces, because no hafted tools have survived. The farmers of the Jordanów culture used curved sickles with a few flint blades inserted obliquely in a haft made from organic materials. Sickle gloss usually covers ca. 1/5 of a lithic implement surface and concentrates specifically at one of the protruding edges. At the sites of Jordanów culture, sickle inserts occur both in settlement and funerary contexts, including pits of various functions, ditches, as well as burials (Table 2.1). Sickle blades, like most of the lithic artefacts of the Jordanów culture, were made mostly from local erratic flint, however those made from the Jurassic flint occurred almost exclusively in graves. The technology of blank production was uniform and did not depended on the type of raw material. Blades were produced from unifacial cores with a prepared striking platform. The edges of cores bear traces of abrasion and preparation. Blades were struck off by direct or indirect percussion with the use of soft

The sickle inserts deposited in burial pits, however, show a different biography. In case of Tyniec and Jordanów sites, the detailed spatial data is unknown. However, the cemetery at Domasław provided comprehensive data for analysing the distribution of particular types of artefacts, including clay vessels, bone objects and flint tools. Sickle blades were found in ten graves containing male (7) or undetermined (3) skeletons. More or less neat rows of flint inserts - numbering three to five pieces lay at the hips or legs of the deceased and at the head in one case. Separate concentrations of flint tools were deposited in the two richest graves, that contained skeletons of maturus males, aged approximately 45–50 years (Hałuszko 2017). Such a distribution of sickle blades in rows clearly shows that complete hafted tools were given to the dead (Figure 2.4). This also concerns sickle blades found within two mentioned groups of tools (Figure 2.5).

Microscopic observations were carried out with the use of metallographic microscope Nikon Eclipse LV100 (up to 400 ×) and stereomicroscope Olympus SZX9 (up to 57 ×), at the Institute of Archaeology Wrocław University. The chromatographic analyses of the pottery samples was carried out according to the procedures developed at the Institute of General and Ecological Chemistry, Lodz University of Technology. The analyses of physical properties of pottery was carried out in the Polish Academy of Art in Wrocław.

1

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Kufel-Diakowska, Mozgała-Swacha, Kałużna-Czaplińska, Rosiak, Stoksik Table 2.1. Sickle blades at the sites of Jordanów culture. Site

Context

Position

N

Raw material

grave 12862 (♂, Juvenis)

at knee

5

Jurassic flint

grave 12897 (♂, Adultus)

at hip

4

erratic flint

grave 13109 (♂?, Adultus/Maturus)

at hip

5

erratic flint

grave 13120 (♂?, Maturus)

at hip

4

erratic flint

in front of a chest

5

erratic flint

at knee (concentration)

3

erratic flint

at head (concentration)

9

erratic flint

knee

5

Jurassic flint

grave 13132 (♂, Adultus/Maturus)

at feet

1

erratic flint

grave 13368 (?, Infans I)

at head

3

erratic flint

grave 13512 (?)

–

3

erratic flint

grave 7142 (?)

–

1

erratic flint

grave 13123 (♂, Maturus) Domasław grave 13131 (♂?, Maturus)

Domasław

Jordanów Śląski

Jordanów Śląski

Tyniec Mały

Tyniec Mały

Total

48

graves 6–12 (?)

–

1

erratic flint

pit 22/23 (grave?)

–

3

erratic flint

grave 23 (♂, Maturus)

–

3

erratic flint

pit 25

–

1

erratic flint

pit 29

–

1

Jurassic flint

pit 31

–

1

erratic flint

pit 32 (grave?)

–

3

erratic flint

pit 41

–

1

erratic flint

pit 44

–

1

Chocolate flint

pit 53

–

2

erratic flint

pit 57

–

1

erratic flint

pit 58

–

1

erratic flint

pits 29–53; graves 36–44 (?)

–

1

erratic flint

Total

20

ditch II

–

3

erratic flint

pit 12

–

1

erratic flint

cultural layer

–

2

erratic flint

grave 1 (♀?, Adultus)

–

3

erratic flint

grave 4 (♀ + ♂?, Maturus, Adultus)

–

2

erratic flint

Total

11

In regards to the development of use-wear, tools from graves do not differ from those deposited in settlement contexts (Figure 2.6). Sickle gloss is very well developed and indicates a relatively long use. In a few cases two opposing cutting edges were used during harvesting. There are also few examples of blades with multiple stages of use. Nevertheless, sickle blades from graves are not completely worn out or damaged and remain still usable.

to a belt). Why? Because they might have been personal belongings of the dead - a harvesting tool used by a man for collecting crops. It might have also been a result of a common funeral practices including offering certain types of objects dedicated to men. In case of sickles found near the head or within two large concentrations of tools, another interpretation is more reasonable. The personal use of the sickly by the deceased must be excluded in the first case, due to the early age of the interred, which is Infans I. Moreover, the men with the particular rich graves already had set of harvesting tools placed near the legs or in the front of the chest (Figure 2.4). Thus, perhaps the tools from the concentration were used by someone else and were given to the dead from his family members or other parts of the society.

Based on the above evidence, two possibilities can be put forward regarding the life-cycle and role of the sickles before they became grave goods. The first explanation concerns tools recorded by hips or legs. They were probably placed together with the body (e.g. being tight 14

Endless life of tools and vessels from the Neolithic contexts in SW Poland

Figure 2.2. Sickle inserts from Tyniec Mały: 1–6 pits; 7–9 grave 1; 10–11 grave 4 (photo Nicole Lenkow).

Ceramic vessels

1–2). In case of the settlement contexts, the Jordanów culture is not exceptional and characterised by a high frequency of fragmented sherds. Complete examples of clay vessels are rare and pits generally contain randomly distributed sherds.

Complete clay vessels come from male and female graves recorded at all of three sites. The set of offered wares was uniform in most of the graves and consisted of a footed vessel, a double handled pitcher and a bath-shaped vessel (Mozgała-Swacha and Murzyński 2017). Vessels were located exclusively above or around a head of the deceased, in a southern part of a burial pits (Figure 2.7:

As mentioned, studies of the residues from the Neolithic pottery in this area are in their preliminary stage. Nine samples were analysed with the use of the GC-MS, 15

Kufel-Diakowska, Mozgała-Swacha, Kałużna-Czaplińska, Rosiak, Stoksik

Figure 2.3. Sickle inserts from Jordanów Śląski: 1–7 graves; 8–13 pits (photo N. Lenkow).

including samples dated to the Lengyel culture (Table 2.2). The results of these analyses indicate that all of the analysed vessels contained residues of plant origin but some also contained the remains of substances originating from animal proteins. Three samples taken from a footed vessel and bath-shaped vessels show high percentage of fatty acids or other chemical compounds originating from meat, i.e. heneicosylic, chenodeoxycholic, also myristic, margaric and butyric acid, as well as derivative of animal steroids. Moreover, small fragments of animal bones were recorded inside a footed vessels from the cemetery in Domasław (ibid.).

The residue analysis does not show any significant differences in the function of the same kinds of vessels recovered from two different contexts. They were not newly made pots, all of them were used for preparing, storing or cooking of food, as e.g. meat need to be heated up to make it possible to detect by the GC-MS method. It is worth mentioning that the footed and bath-shaped vessels are the only samples out of 32 samples analysed by the GC-MS, that revealed fatty acids from meat (KałużnaCzaplińska 2014–2015). Thus, specific function of this kind of containers has to be further investigated using residue analysis of more samples in the future. 16

Endless life of tools and vessels from the Neolithic contexts in SW Poland

Figure 2.4. Graves with sickle deposits from Domasław (after Mozgała-Swacha, Murzyński 2016 with changes)

The raw material and method of paste preparation of the clay used to produce the vessels was also similar at all sites. Heavily ground mineral particles or pieces of fired clay were added to the paste before shaping. According to the quality analysis of pottery, including water absorption and permeability, there are also no differences in the physical properties of footed and bath-shaped vessels from the settlement pits and from graves (Table 2.3). Both types of pottery show high quality (water absorption < 10.00),

that resulted from the method of production, shape of the vessel and the manner of their use. However, differences were observable when the form and function differed. For example, double handled pitchers from graves display poor quality (water absorption > 15.00). This type of vessels could therefore have been used for storing liquids (Stoksik 2016). The analysis demonstrates that clay vessels deposited in graves were selected from a group of objects used in everyday activities as the technological features

Table 2.2. Residues or bone remains detected in clay vessels. Site

Context

Type

Residues

Tyniec Mały

grave 3 (?)

footed

fatty acids from plants

Domasław

grave 13124 (♀, Adultus)

footed

animal bones

Domasław

grave 12867 (♀, Juvenis)

footed

animal bones

Domasław

grave 13109 (♂?, Adultus/Maturus)

double handled pitcher

fatty acids from plants

Domasław

grave 12894 (?, Infans II/Juvenis)

double handled pitcher

fatty acids from plants

Domasław

grave 13132 (♂, Adultus/Maturus)

double handled pitcher

fatty acids from plants

Zarzyca

pit 26

footed

fatty acids and other chemical compounds from meat and plants

Zarzyca

pit 97

footed

fatty acids from plants

Zarzyca

grave 99 (?)

bath-shaped

fatty acids and other chemical compounds from meat and plants

Księginice Wielkie

pit 13

bath-shaped

fatty acids from plants

Księginice Wielkie

pit 19

bath-shaped

fatty acids from meat and plants

17

Kufel-Diakowska, Mozgała-Swacha, Kałużna-Czaplińska, Rosiak, Stoksik

Figure 2.5. Sickle inserts from Domasław: 1–5 sickle at a knee; 6–14 sickles from the concentration of flint tools (drawings B. Kufel-Diakowska).

and residue analysis confirm that they were not produced exclusively for funeral purposes as their biographies were the same as those found in domestic contexts.

the deposition. Use-wear analysis showed sickle gloss on the implements found in rows in the graves, meaning that they are the lithic remains of complete harvesting tools given to the dead. Residue analysis also indicates that clay vessels were either previously used or at least were not empty when they were placed in burial pits. The sickles must have been used for relatively long time, because the polish is very well developed. In case of clay vessels, it

Discussion and conclusions The results of the analytical methods applied in this study reveal that tools and vessels from graves were used before 18

Endless life of tools and vessels from the Neolithic contexts in SW Poland

Figure 2.6. Sickle gloss on truncated pieces from Domasław (1–2), Jordanów Śląski (3) and Tyniec Mały (4) (photo B. KufelDiakowska).

is possible that process of baking meat or preparing other food took place during a mortuary ceremony. Nevertheless, those few examples give us some indications about the usefulness and similar function of vessels from graves and those found in other pits. Why were these particular objects selected to be deposited in graves compared to other objects found in more domestic settings? Morphometric analysis and raw material data suggest that sickles found

in graves were often better quality than those found in settlement pits. However, there is no observable difference between clay vessels found in these opposing depositional contexts. In our opinion we have to consider various reasons that related to the specific type of offerings. If clay vessels were used in the ceremony, the choice could have been more accidental. Some of the sickles, for example those with sickle blades made from Jurassic flint, could be

Table 2.3. Physical properties of pottery. Site

Context

Type

Porosity Water [%] absorption [%]

Permeability [%]

Tyniec Mały

grave 3 (?)

footed

22.67

8.94

77.33

Domasław

grave 13109 (♂?, Adultus/Maturus)

double handled pitcher

29.03

16.74

70.97

Domasław

grave 12894 (?, Infans II/Juvenis)

double handled pitcher

32.93

18.58

67.07

Domasław

grave 12896 (♀,Juvenis)

double handled pitcher

28.23

16.50

71.77

Zarzyca

pit 26

footed

27.53

9.75

72.47

Zarzyca

pit 97

footed

25.91

10.84

74.09

Zarzyca

grave 99 (?)

bath-shaped

27.13

8.96

72.87

Księginice Wielkie

pit 13

bath-shaped

18.22

6.84

81.78

Księginice Wielkie

pit 19

bath-shaped

20.24

7.92

79.76

19

Kufel-Diakowska, Mozgała-Swacha, Kałużna-Czaplińska, Rosiak, Stoksik

Figure 2.7. Vessel discussed in this study: 1–2 Domasław (after Mozgała-Swacha, Murzyński 2017 with changes); 3 Tyniec Mały, 4–6 Zarzyca; 7–8 Księginice Wielkie (photo J. Sawicki).

considered as extraordinary, because they came down as an heirloom, or a gift from a different group. Other tools were in everyday use, but were then given to the dead in order to express respect to the interred or in obedience to the funeral rites. It seems like the objects from graves were not treated as normal tools, but they had been previously selected by the society and played a special role in everyday but sacred activities, such as harvesting and processing meat (Gibaja 2003, 2004; Gijn 2010).

differences in quality of objects deposited in graves and settlement structures. Some of the lithic tools and ceramic vessels were used and “died” by being worn out. Then, they were thrown out to a refuse dump. Other objects were used for various tasks, in most cases intensively, then, despite the high potential to perform further activities, became an important component of funeral rituals. They were selected for the dead, because they took part in particular activities (here: plant food production and meat processing). These activities must have been considered as important and symbolic for the early farming societies. The objects given to a dead could have been used in the

Analysis of the studied materials show that there are no observable differences in the wear development and little 20

Endless life of tools and vessels from the Neolithic contexts in SW Poland oder Ausnahme. Salzmünde - rule or exception, edited by Harald Meller and Suzanne Friederich, 239–250. Tagungen des Landesmuseums für Vorgeschichte Halle, Band 16, 2017.

world of the ancestors, unlike objects discarded within the settlements. Their biographies ended one day. Acknowledgements

Furmanek, Mirosław, and Marta Mozgała-Swacha. “Chronologia absolutna cmentarzyska kultury jordanowskiej w Domasławiu“. In Cmentarzysko kultury jordanowskiej ze stan. 10/11/12 w Domasławiu, gmina Kobierzyce, województwo dolnośląskie, edited by Bogusław Gediga, 179–196. Archeologiczne Zeszyty Autostradowe 19, 2017.

Our grateful thanks go to Magdalena Szczecińska from the Archaeological Museum in Wrocław, Bogusław Gediga and Izabela Dolata-Daszkiewicz from the Polish Academy of Sciences in Wrocław and Wojciech Fabisiak from the Museum in Sobótka for the access to the archaeological finds. The current studies were supported by the National Science Centre (grant decisions: No. UMO-2012/07/D/ HS3/00979 awarded to B. Kufel-Diakowska and No. 2013/11/N/HS3/04760 awarded to M. Mozgała-Swacha).

Gediga, Bogusław. “Ratownicze badania wykopaliskowe na stanowiskach 10, 11, 12 w Domasławiu, gm. Kobierzyce na Dolnym Śląsku, w latach 2006–2008“. In Raport 2007–2008 (I), edited by Sławomir Kadrow, 411–420. Warszawa: Narodowy Instytut Dziedzictwa, 2012.

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Gibaja, Juan F. “Lithic tools in catalonian neolithic cemeteries. Early 4th millennium Cal BC communities”. Complutum 14 (2003): 55–71.

Czarniak, Krzysztof. Młodsze kultury cyklu naddunajskiego w Polsce południowo-zachodniej. Szczecin: Wydawnictwo Mediatour, 2012.

Gibaja, Juan F. “Neolithic Communities of the Northeastern Iberian Peninsula: Burials, Grave Goods, and Lithic Tools”. Current Anthropology 45, no. 5 (2004): 679– 685.

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Diakowski, Marcin. “Przedmioty z kości, poroża i zębów odkryte w grobach kultury jordanowskiej na stanowisku Domasław 10/11/12, gm. Kobierzyce”. In Cmentarzysko kultury jordanowskiej ze stan. 10/11/12 w Domasławiu, gmina Kobierzyce, województwo dolnośląskie, edited by Bogusław Gediga, 197–212. Archeologiczne Zeszyty Autostradowe 19, 2017.

Hałuszko, Agata. “Populacja kultury jordanowskiej ze stanowiska Domasław w świetle badań antrologicznych”. In Cmentarzysko kultury jordanowskiej ze stan. 10/11/12 w Domasławiu, gmina Kobierzyce, województwo dolnośląskie, edited by Bogusław Gediga, 135–178. Archeologiczne Zeszyty Autostradowe 19, 2017.

Dreczko, Ewa, and Marta Mozgała-Swacha. “Settlements traces of the Linear Pottery Culture and the StrokeOrnamented are Culture communities from site No. 5 in Jordanów Śląski”. In Szkice neolityczne. Księga poświęcona pamięci Profesor Anny Kulczyckiej Leciejowiczowej, edited by Krzysztof Czarniak, Justyna Kolenda and Małgorzata Markiewicz, 145– 159. Wrocław: Instytut Archeologii i Etnologii PAN, 2014.

Kałużna-Czaplińska, Joanna. “Wykonanie analizy chromatograficznej mikropozostałości z neolitycznych naczyń ceramicznych i opracowanie wyników”. Unpublished report, Łódź: Politechnika Łódzka, 2014– 2015. Korczyńska, Marta, Michał Borowski, Klaus Cappenberg, Magdalena Moskal-del-Hoyo, and Anita Szczepanek. “Long ago, far away... Funeral Rite at the Late Bronze Age/Early Iron Age Urnfield Graveyard in Iwanowice, Site 44 (AZP 106-65/103)”. Śląskie Sprawozdania Archeologiczne 60, no. 1 (2018): 139–182.

Fabisiak, Wojciech, and Piotr Cholewa. “Z badań wykopaliskowych osady kultury lendzielskiej w Księginicach Wielkich, pow. Strzelin, w latach 1999– 2000”. Śląskie Sprawozdania Archeologiczne 44 (2002): 147–170. Furmanek, Mirosław, Mateusz Krupski, Maciej Ehlert, Marek Grześkowiak, Agata Haluszko, Maksym Mackiewicz , and Agata Sady. “Dobkowice revisited. Interdisciplinary research on an enclosure of the Jordanów culture”. Antropologie 51, no. 3 (2013): 375–396.

Kufel-Diakowska, Bernadeta, Andrzej Wiśniewski, and Marcin Chłoń. “Wyroby ze skał krzemionkowych w pochówkach kultury jordanowskiej stanowiska Domasław”. In Cmentarzysko kultury jordanowskiej ze stan. 10/11/12 w Domasławiu, gmina Kobierzyce, województwo dolnośląskie, edited by Bogusław Gediga, 215–268. Archeologiczne Zeszyty Autostradowe 19, 2017.

Furmanek, Mirosław. “Neolithic enclosures in Silesia, south-west Poland – a survey”. In Salzmünde - Regel

Kufel-Diakowska, Bernadeta, Marta Mozgała-Swacha, and Jarosław Bronowicki. “Zabytki krzemienne z prac 21

Kufel-Diakowska, Mozgała-Swacha, Kałużna-Czaplińska, Rosiak, Stoksik wykopaliskowych prowadzonych na przełomie XIX i XX stulecia na stanowisku 5 w Jordanowie Śląskim”. Śląskie Sprawozdania Archeologiczne 60, no. 2 (2019): in print. Mozgała-Swacha, Marta, and Tomasz Murzyński. “Cmentarzysko kultury jordanowskiej ze stan. 10/11/12 w Domasławiu, gmina Kobierzyce, województwo dolnośląskie”. In Cmentarzysko kultury jordanowskiej ze stan. 10/11/12 w Domasławiu, gmina Kobierzyce, województwo dolnośląskie, edited by Bogusław Gediga, 7–130. Archeologiczne Zeszyty Autostradowe 19, 2017. Noworyta, Elżbieta. “Osada grupy jordanowskiej kultury lendzielskiej w Tyńcu Małym, gm. Kobierzyce”. Silesia Antiqua 28 (1986): 7–73. Parker Pearson, Mark. The archaeology of death and burial. Thrupp: Sutton Publishing, 1999. Pyżewicz, Katarzyna. “Use-wear analysis of flint artefacts from the barrows of the Corded Ware culture in Ulów”. Folia Quaternaria 85 (2017): 117–134. Sarauw, Torben. “Male symbols or warrior identities? The “archery burials” of Danish Bell Beaker Cultu”. Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 26 (2007): 65–87. Seger, Hans. “Die Steinzeit in Schlesien“. Archiv für Anthropologie 5 (1906): 116–141. Seger, Hans. “Die keramischen Stilarten der jüngeren Steinzeit Schlesiens“. Schlesiens Vorzeit in Bild und Schrift 7 (1919): 1–89. Stoksik, Henryk. “Badanie cech fizycznych artefaktów ceramicznych z okresu neolitu“. Unpublished report, Wrocław: Akademia Sztuk Pięknych, 2016. Sych, Dawid. “Cultural biographies of Bronze Age knives and sickles from south-western Poland”. Śląskie Sprawozdania Archeologiczne 57 (2015): 115–127. Zakościelna, Anna. Studium obrządku pogrzebowego kultury lubelsko-wołyńskiej. Lublin: Wydawnictwo UMCS, 2010.

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3 Grinding tools and circular enclosures: Activities on late Neolithic settlements Jaroslav Řídký, Markéta Končelová, Pavel Burgert, Radka Šumberová, and Roman Hadacz This paper discusses the issue of the occurrence of grinding tools in the fills of the pits from the first half of the fifth millennium BC and their possible application to the study of ritual activities at Neolithic settlements. We examine whether artefacts from the category of grinding tools, unearthed in ditch fills of circular enclosures - rondels (Kreisgrabenanlagen) can somehow help us in the search for activities tied to the original function of rondels. We look at how often and in what form grinding tools appear in archaeological contexts and what information they provide about the “life cycles” of stone artefacts. During various analyses we compare the assemblages from two types of settlement contexts – i.e. from those in which rondels were found, and subsequently also from other settlements where their existence has not been confirmed. According to our findings fragments of used tools - both grinders and querns - are often concentrated in the infills of rondel ditches on our processed sites. It could therefore be that the evidence of ritual activity concentrated in the vicinity of these objects is striking in terms of their shape and size. At the same time we should also add that a similar handling of tools also occurs on other explored areas of settlements where, during the field research, the rondels were not documented. The accumulation of deliberately broken grinding tools can therefore represent some unique remnant of certain forms of rituals taking place at the Neolithic settlements of that period. If there were an area or an object suitable for implementing rituals (e.g. a rondel) within the settlement, a part of these activities were concentrated within its vicinity. Introduction

the functional groups, the technological categories and the raw materials that are used in the production of tools that are designed for crushing and milling a variety of products, particularly those that are used for food preparation (e.g. Hamon 2008). We will look at how often and in what form GT appear in archaeological contexts and what information they provide about the “life cycles” of stone artefacts, and specifically about the handling of tools during the Neolithic period.

In this work we will discuss the issue of the occurrence of bipartite grinding tools in the infills of the sunken features from the first half of the fifth millennium BC and their possible application to the study of ritual activities at Neolithic settlements. We will focus on the territory of Central Europe, when at that time circular ditched enclosures, which we most often refer to as Kreisgrabenanlagen or rondels (Figure 3.1), appeared in several archaeological cultures. These are enclosures with an anticipated socioritual function that in terms of their uniform shape layout and larger sizes noticeably deviate from the range of normally unearthed settlement pits of various shapes, sizes and functions (e.g. Petrasch 2012; Podborský ed. 1999). We will examine whether artefacts from the category of grinding tools, unearthed in ditch infills can somehow help us in the search for activities tied to the original function of rondels (e.g. Pavlů 2012; Graefe et al. 2009) or whether they are findings that reflect normal activities (including rituals) on late Neolithic settlements (in accordance with the Czech chronology specifically its late stage 4900/4800 – 4500/4400 cal. BC; e.g. Pavlů and Zápotocká 2013, 46).

In the following section we will compare the sets of GT from two types of settlement contexts dating from the Late Neolithic period – i.e. from those in which rondels were found, and subsequently also from other settlements where their existence has not been confirmed. Vital information will be drawn in particular from large-scale salvage excavations taking place in the territory of the Czech Republic, with findings from the Stroked Pottery culture period (hereinafter referred to as STK). Rondels and grinding tools First we will describe the rondels more closely and also explain why it is that using the artefacts from the GT group is most suitable for studying the activities that took place on the settlements where there were rondels.

After providing the more detailed characteristics of objects of the rondel type, in our work we will summarise the information that is available to-date about those artefacts that are included in the grinding tools group (which hereinafter are referred to as GT). We will also introduce

Up till now in the territory of temporal Europe we have recorded more than 150 structures of the rondel type. Of 23

Jaroslav Řídký, Markéta Končelová, Pavel Burgert, Radka Šumberová, and Roman Hadacz

Figure 3.1. In the upper part of the image there is a representation of several unscaled variants of ground plan of rondels (modified after Literski and Nebelsick 2012). In the bottom of the picture the expansion of rondels in Central Europe is depicted and the sites referred to in the text are marked numerically. 1. Bylany; 2. Kolín 1; 3. Vchynice; 4. KünzingUnternberg; 5. Těšetice-Kyjovice; 6. Běhařovice; 7. Vedrovice II; 8. Jaroměř; 9. Příšovice (map by J. Řídký).

the original structures more or less circular layout ditches with a typical V-shaped bottom and also inner foundation trenches, in which timber poles were originally embedded have been preserved (Podborský 1988; Petrasch 1990; Trnka 1991; Literski and Nebelsick 2012). Currently rondels that comprise one to four ditches and one to three inner trenches are known. Usually the ditches and the trenches are interrupted by variously shaped entrances at two, three, four and, occasionally, also five or more locations. The rondels reach a maximum size of between 30 m and 240 m (when they are measured alongside the

outer edges of the ditches). Nowadays the individual ditches reach a maximum width ranging between 1.5 m and 14 m and a maximum depth of between 0.5 m and 6 m. The inner trenches reach a maximum width of between 0.4 m and 0.5 m and a maximum depth of 0.6 m. Interpretations of the original form and architecture of the rondels vary between different researchers. According to most experts simple palisade walls with a maximum height of between 2 m and 4.5 m were anchored in the inner foundation trenches (Podborský 1988; Petrasch 24

Grinding tools and circular enclosures 1990); however there are also alternative ideas regarding more complex and possibly even roofed wooden structures (e.g. Pavlů 2001). Similarly, researchers are in dispute concerning the existence and/or the locations of banks that were created from the material that had accumulated during the excavation of the ditches (e.g. Trnka 1991; Němejcová-Pavúková 1995; Stäuble 2012).

for their frequent accumulation to be just a consequence of the conventional discarding activities that took place at Neolithic settlements or simply a result of the postdeposition processes. In his opinion it might be, for example, evidence of the collective preparation of meals within the rondels during various ceremonial feasts, which he documented based on the example of the rondel that is identified as Bylany 4/1 (in the Bohemian part of the Czech Republic).

Previously the function of the rondels was interpreted in accordance with their layout and with the theoretically estimated intensity of their construction and, what is essential for our paper – in accordance with the findings from the infills of ditches and other pits in the vicinity of rondels (Petrasch 1990; Řídký et al. 2014a).

Another significant accumulation of GT fragments, with the remains of crushed red dye on their surfaces, was documented at the well-known Těšetice-Kyjovice site that is located in the Moravian part of the Czech Republic (Podborský 1988). A set of ca. twenty GT were found there in the middle-level of a ditch infill close to the southern entrance.

The most frequent findings from the infills of ditches of rondels include ceramic fragments, animal skeletal remains, daub remains and a variety of categories of lithics, including our main object of interest - i.e. grinding tools. The question of the utilisation of findings from the infills of ditches for understanding the function or for the interpretation of the original forms of the rondels and for dating them has been debated in the archaeological literature over a long period (Pavlů 2012; Bertemes and Northe 2012; Řídký et al. 2014a). Based on recent studies it can be concluded that due to the long-term opening of the ditches and quite frequently recorded repairs and cleaning of the ditches, their infills were formed based on contributions from both natural and human agents. By-and-large each site is original and the site-formation processes require thorough studying (Lisá et al. 2013; Řídký et al. 2014a).

The rich findings of GT from the very bottom of a V-shaped ditch come from Běhařovice, the other Moravian site, again from close by the southern entrance (Kovárník 1999) and another unusually rich deposit of GT was also found in Moravia in a rondel ditch that is identified as Vedrovice II (Humpolová and Ondruš 1999). In the upper third of the rondel infill a deposit of GT was found, together with other rough stones, pottery shards, daub remains and animal bones, scattered over an area of ca. two by three metres. There it was even possible to distinguish between the two individual layers of these findings, while the other individual GT come from the lower levels of the ditch infill. In order not to stay only in the Czech Republic we will also mention the German site, Künzing-Unternberg, from where a notable disparity was reported between the rich documentation of GT from the infills of both of the rondel’s two ditches and from the infills of the pits that are located in the surrounding settlement (Petrasch 1998). In the following sections we will summarise the basic information that Neolithic GT can provide for us.

Czech archaeologist Ivan Pavlů has repeatedly drawn attention in the past to repetitive patterns of documented layers that fill-up rondel ditches (e.g. Pavlů 2012). While multiple thin layering is typical for the lower levels of the ditches that usually contain a minimum of findings or none. The middle levels, which are thicker and have more compacted layers, are usually the richest in terms of the overall categories of findings, in terms of both artefacts and biofacts. It is these sets of findings from the central parts of the infills on which the dating of rondels is usually based, including the interpretation of their possible functions. Typically the upper levels are compact and have a darker colour, while also containing a considerable quantity of artefacts. As is demonstrated by detailed analysis of the different categories of findings from several sites, the causes of the forming of infills inside the ditches and also in their various sections, for example close to the entrances, are very diverse (Řídký et al. 2014a). A considerable portion the findings may have nothing in common with either the period when the rondel was in use or with the main purpose of the rondel. In our opinion some of the artefacts, however, deserve greater attention and being studied more thoroughly.

Grinding tools – their basic characteristics Bipartite grinding tools represent a functionally specific group of tools with clearly defined shapes and in Central Europe with more or less similar dimensions, with working surfaces in the characteristic locations and with other traces in the form of striations (e.g. Pavlů and Rulf et al. 1991; Adams 2002). They are simple hand-driven devices comprising two compatible parts (Figure 3.2) – the upper being the active tool (a grinder or a mano) and the lower being a passive tool (a quern or a metate). While it is in use the grinder is held by its shorter edge and it is moved backwards and forwards or in a circular manner. The maximum lengths of these tools in Central Europe range between 10 cm and 40 cm and their maximum width is between ca. 7 cm and 20 cm with a maximum thickness of ca. 10 cm, and usually a weight ranging between ca. 1–5 kg (Řídký et al. 2014b). The bodies of most grinders that are oval or rectangular in shape are usually carefully worked by means of gentle

Pavlů, in one of his articles, pointed out the remarkably high incidence of GT, especially in the middle levels of the ditch infills (Pavlů 2012). In this work the author argues that GT represent tools that are too big and heavy 25

Jaroslav Řídký, Markéta Končelová, Pavel Burgert, Radka Šumberová, and Roman Hadacz

Figure 3.2. The grinder (upper active stone) and the quern “in action” in a photograph of the replica from the Museum of West Bohemia in Pilsen (photo by J. Řídký).

battering or by grinding (van Gijn and Verbaas 2009; Hamon 2008). The shorter sides are usually adjusted to ensure a better grip (as a comfort feature; Adams 2002). The contours of the cross-profile of grinders are often close to those of a triangle, while the contour of the longitudinal profile is oval or planoconvex.

variety of clast hammer stones were utilised (Hayden ed. 1987; Gaffrey and Langenbring 2003). Neolithic artefacts that are considered as GT include complete grinders and querns or fragments of them, together with semi-finished tools related to the production process and their various flakes. Flakes may represent conventional production waste or provide evidence of the ongoing modification of tool shapes during the rejuvenation of the tools.

During their use querns are laid on the ground and, in accordance with an ethnographic analogy, they can also be embedded in the ground or in clay benches (Gronenborn 1995; Adams 2002). During grinding the quern can either be placed on a mat onto which the ground product falls, or there is a vessel that is located at the distal end of the tool for this purpose. The maximum length of querns may range between 20 cm and 50 cm, with a width of 30 cm a thickness of ca. 15 cm and a weight of between 3 kg and 20 kg. Usually the bodies of querns are only roughly shaped by means of chipping. Their final shape may be oval, rectangular or trapezoidal. The longitudinal profile of these tools is usually rectangular or trapezoidal.

The American researcher J. L. Adams (Adams 2008), who studied GT in the context of a “living culture”, divides the causes of the fragmentation of tools into accidental breaks, natural breaks, manufacturing breaks, mechanical breaks and intentional breaks. It was the fragmentary findings of GT, which had traces of striking and the remains of ochre on the breaks, that led the Dutch researchers, van Gijn and Verbaas (van Gijn and Verbaas 2009, 7), to the conclusion that it could be evidence of the deliberate destruction of tools during certain rituals.

For the production of GT in Central Europe rocks of a sedimentary origin are frequently utilised – e.g. variously grained and coloured sandstone, quartz sandstone, conglomerates, metamorphic rocks and igneous extrusive rocks that are represented by quartz porphyry, which are mostly exploited in the areas in which these resources are found (e.g. Řídký et al. 2014b). For shaping the GT a

Based on the study of the GT found in the settlements, in addition to basic information concerning the manner of food preparation, we can therefore also learn many things about the exploitation of raw materials and also about the technologies utilised, the significant contacts, the distribution systems or rituals (Wright 1994; Verbaas 26

Grinding tools and circular enclosures and van Gijn 2007; Adams et al. 2009; Li Liu et al. 2010). Now let’s look at several case sites from the Bohemian area of the Czech Republic where a larger number of GT were found.

were found in the infills of objects dating to the later stage of STK (Figure 3.3). In addition to 28 fragments of used tools from the entire assemblage only one complete tool was identified, one complete semi-finished product and 8 fragments of semi-finished products and also 21 flakes (Řídký et al. 2014b). During the evaluation of the finds it became apparent that a considerable part of the fragments could be refitted into several individual objects. The result was 16 grinders, 9 querns, 7 semi-finished products and 13 flakes (Table 3.1).

The Vchynice case site From this site, where there is a rondel and other settlements pits on a surveyed area of one hectare, a total of 62 artefacts belonging to the GT group were recovered, of which 59

Figure 3.3. Vchynice site. 1. The overall plan of the site with the STK objects marked in grey; 2. An indication of the extent of the rondel zone and of the settlement zone (see Table 3.2); 3. An example of intentional interference with a grinder (max. size 165 mm); 4. Two strikes on a grinder body (max. size 165 mm); 5. Several strikes on the quern (max. size 185 mm) (plan and photos by J. Řídký).

27

Jaroslav Řídký, Markéta Končelová, Pavel Burgert, Radka Šumberová, and Roman Hadacz Table 3.1. The occurrence of individuals of GT in the infills of rondel ditches and settlement objects. Sites Vchynice, Kolín I and Jaroměř. GT: all the technological groups of grinding tools; FT: finished tools; SF: semi-finished products (table by J. Řídký, M. Končelová and P. Burgert). Site

Type of features Volume Total Total % of Grinders Querns SFFlakes Deliberately All GT FT per GT FT FT products broken per m3 m3 Rondel (ditch)

71,23

19

7

28

4

3

3

9

5

0,267

0,098

139,9

26

18

72

12

6

4

4

11

0,186

0,129

All features (R+SP)

211,13

45

25

100

16

9

7

13

16

0,213

0,118

Rondel 1 (all ditches)

322,33

17

17

14,78

12

3

0

0

2

0,053

0,053

Rondel 2 (ditch)

382,89

48

43

37,39

36

5

2

0

1

0,125

0,112

Settlement’s pits (N=34)

702,3

74

55

47,83

50

5

1

4

2

0,105

0,078

All features (R+SP)

1407,52

139

115

100

98

13

3

4

5

0,099

0,082

All setlement’s pits (N=53)

648,78

453

143

100

127

9

7

310

not determined

0,698

0,22

Settlement’s pits Vchynice (N=8)

K olin

Jaroměř

With the exception of two of the artefacts, the quartz porphyry that was quarried ca. 4 km north of the settlement was used for producing the tools. GT made from the raw material from the same source have been found at sites, dating to the same period, that are ca. 26 km (Beneš et al. 2015), 40 km (Lička 1990), and ca. 60 km (Davidová 2009), away from the source location.

Tool blanks from a local source were transported to the settlement in Vchynice. The final shaping of the tools was carried out directly at the settlement. The tools were then used on the site and subsequently were deliberately destroyed. In this context we quote J. L. Adams: “The metates could have been destroyed because they were perceived as worn out, or of obsolete design, or they may have been destroyed to keep other people from using them. However, it is also possible that they were destroyed for the same reason given by the Native American potter for why holes were manufactured in bowl bottoms – to let the breath within return to the cosmos” (Adams 2008, 225). We can also quote A. van Gijn and A. Verbaas: “We propose that the fragmentation of the querns can be seen from this perspective: the querns had to be destroyed, had to die so to speak” (van Gijn and Verbaas 2009, 7). From our perspective we can look for the cause of the deliberate breaking of tools as representing some form of ritual.

From the group of flakes, the flakes themselves with remnants of the work surface were recorded, which perhaps represent the remains of the ongoing modification of tool shapes, but another explanation might also be offered. While recording the degree of preservation of the final form of the GT in Vchynice it was noted that the flakes were very thick. The raw material utilised, i.e. quartz porphyry, is of high-quality, hard and consistent, so there is little likelihood that the destruction of the tools took place during their use only due to the poor quality of the raw material. Only in two cases was the tool used to the point of it undergoing a complete change in its shape and thereby not being useful any more for its original purpose. On the fragments of the bodies of 13 grinders and 3 querns, percussion marks were apparent and were always focused on work surfaces (Figure 3.3: 4–6). On 9 fragments of grinders there was one strike on each, while on three fragments there were two strikes and on one three percussion marks. On two fragments of querns there were four strikes and in one case as many as six strikes. In our opinion all of these findings testify to the deliberate destruction of tools that were still usable.

In the rondel ditch, both at the lower and the middle level of its infill, both the evidence of production was found (in the form of semi-finished products and flakes) together with fragments of deliberately destroyed grinders and querns. Similar artefacts are also documented, however, emanating from the infills of the surrounding settlement objects of various shapes, sizes and functions (Table 3.1). If we look at the density of the finished tools (FT) per cubic metre (this value was obtained by dividing the total number of findings with a volume of explored objects) in the ditch and overall at other settlement objects that are dated to the same period, this value is higher in the second group. As compared to the settlement pits, however, no complete tool was found in the rondel ditch and if we divide the area of the settlement into the rondel zone and the settlement zone, the density of the finished tools in the rondel zone is greater (Table 3.2; the value was obtained

Based on the above findings and after examining the work process, the quality of the raw material and the resulting flakes during the experimental production of a replica of the grinder (Řídký et al. 2014b) the following “life cycle” of grinding tools was defined. 28

Grinding tools and circular enclosures Table 3.2. The occurrence of finished tools (FT) in individual zones at settlements. Because it cannot be excluded that the settlement objects that are inside the areas of rondels could be contemporary with the rondels, in this table the tools from those pits have been added to the tools that came from the ditches. The number of tools in the settlement zones may therefore be somewhat lower than was shown in the previous table (table by J. Řídký, M. Končelová and P. Burgert). Site

Area of STK features Rondel zone

Jaroměř

Total FT

In Kolín I GT are found both in rondel ditches and in the settlement pits in their surroundings. To ensure that the data regarding the different types of objects was comparable, the number of GT was related both to their volume and their surface-area (Tables 3.1 and 3.2). In addition to numerical representation, we also focused on the relationships between the various technological groups of GT and the individual objects. An interesting finding is that rondel ditches do not include flakes of GT nor the entire tools. In the ditch of rondel 2 in addition to 46 fragments of GT, two semi-finished products were found at the eastern entrance to the rondel. In this place, moreover, there is a conspicuous accumulation of GT constituting one third of all the findings from the entire ditch.

% of FT per FT m2

662

7

28

0,0106

3946

18

72

0,0046

All area

4608

25

100

0,0054

Rondel 1 zone

6665

17

14,78 0,0026

Rondel 2 zone

4406

54

46,96 0,0123

Settlement zone

36382

44

38,26 0,0012

All area

47453

115

100

0,0024

All area

70000

143

100

0,002

Vchynice Settlement zone

Kolín

Area m2

Overall, the remains of 115 final tools or parts thereof, 3 semi-finished products and 4 flakes were found. In the whole group only 5 complete (i.e. in one piece) tools were found. From a functional point of view, 98 of the GT are grinders and 13 are querns, while the remaining individual items could not be classified in detail (Table 3.1).

by dividing the total number of findings by the area of the explored part of the rondel, defined by an outer edge of the ditch, and a total area of the occurrence of STK settlement pits as seen at Figure 3.3). At this moment in time information resultant from the GT file in Vchynice can be summarised by stating that in the area of the rondel and its immediate surroundings some ritual activities associated with destroying GT were carried out. To complement this we note that the vast majority of the individuals of finished tools that are found in the rondel ditch (86%) come from nearby the southern entrance. However, does this finding concerning the file from Vchynice have any direct correlation with the presence of the rondel? While in Vchynice only intentionally damaged finished tools are accumulated in the rondel zone, it is nevertheless a very small-sized file. So let’s look at another case site dating to the same period.

The absence of flakes and of entire tools in both rondels may indicate specific activities that result in there being fragments of GT. The fact that most (96%) of the grinders from the entire assemblage occur in a fragmentary form also supports this assumption. Also a strong argument is the evidence of the destruction of used tools (i.e. tools with percussion marks) in a total of five instances. They are documented both from the ditches (in 3 cases) and also from the settlement objects. Considered as a set is a grinder and a quern in one object, and in the case of the rondel in one segment, complete sets of GT were found in 7 objects. Only four such sets can be associated with objects that are related to the surrounding settlement where there is the presence of longhouses. Seven GT sets were found in individual sectors of the rondel ditches, while the concentration of these sets between the northern and the eastern entrance to rondel 2 was striking. A small number of complete sets, together with the aboveoutlined requirement for the minimum mobility of these devices due to their weight, refers more to conscious manipulation into the space of both the rondels within the settlement (Table 3.2).

The Kolín I case site The settlement with two rondels (numbered to as rondel 1 and rondel 2) located on an area of 5.4 hectares in Kolín I that was unearthed provided a total of 139 artefacts or parts thereof that were categorised in the GT group and dated to the later stage of STK (Figure 3.4). In addition to the ditches of both the rondels there were settlement pits of various shapes, sizes and functions. During the evaluation of the assemblage it was possible to identify a total of 122 individual objects based on re-joins of GT made from at least five different raw materials. Most frequently they represented various types of different local quartz sandstone (ca. 76%) and of gneiss from the nearby geological sources and more rarely quartz porphyry which occurs at a distance of 100 km either in north or northeastern Bohemia, or comes from the same resources from where it was quarried for the settlement in Vchynice (100 km to the northwest).

Although in terms of numerical representation the analysis of the GT file from Kolín I demonstrated that these artefacts are found evenly balanced in the settlement objects and in the rondel structures, both the flakes and the complete (in one piece) tools were found only in the settlement zone. In Kolín I there is a striking disproportion between the complete and the fragmentary finished tools (FT) and there is also a significant disproportion between the grinders and the querns in the rondels zone and in the settlement zone. Also noteworthy is the numerical representation and the incidence of complete grinding sets (both grinders and querns) close to the eastern entrance to rondel 2. 29

Jaroslav Řídký, Markéta Končelová, Pavel Burgert, Radka Šumberová, and Roman Hadacz

Figure 3.4. The Kolín I site. The overall plan of the site with the STK objects marked in grey; 2. An indication of the extent of the rondel 1 zone, rondel 2 zone and of the settlement zone (see Table 3.2); 3. An example of intentional interference with a quern (max. size 260 mm); 4. An intentional interference with a grinder (max. size 245 mm) (plan and photos by M. Končelová).

The Jaroměř case site

and it is separated from the Jaroměř site by a river valley and it belongs to another settlement complex.

The Neolithic settlement in Jaroměř dating back to STK belongs to those sites without any documented presence of a rondel. Due to the large unearthed area (7 ha) it is likely that a rondel was never present there, while, at first glance, the other archaeological evidence found there also do not give an indication of any ritual activities. The closest known rondel is located 1.7 km away, as the crow flies,

GT and their fragments originate from 53 objects of different shapes, dimensions and functions (Figure 3.5), while the entire assemblage comprises 453 fragments (337 kg). From their individual shapes it was possible to identify 127 grinders, 9 querns and 7 semi-finished products. The rest of the assemblage comprises flakes (Table 3.1). 30

Grinding tools and circular enclosures of the finished tools per square metre is comparable with the sites that were referred to previously (Table 3.2). It is therefore possible to conclude that like in the settlements with rondels in the settlement in Jaroměř the deliberate breaking of GT also took place.

The raw material used for the production of grinders is mostly Cretaceous sandstone, variously coloured from grey to yellow and brown, together with red and brown shades. The structure of raw materials ranges from finegrained to coarse. Their nearest outcrops are located ca. 15 km from the settlement. Slightly less represented are the igneous rocks such as granite, microgranite or volcaniclastic – porphyry - rocks. These are located ca. 30 km from the site.

The Příšovice case site Another STK site with numerous findings of GT is Příšovice in north Bohemia, where a total of 2 hectares were surveyed (Brestovanský 2011). As in previous case no rondel was found during the surveying. In accordance with the author of the publication 296 fragments of GT come from this site, of which 45 are grinders and 251 are querns (their total weight is not given). In 60% of all the artefacts leucocratic granite was identified as constituting a raw material, while in 5% it was quartz porphyry and the rest were various quartzites. They were mostly raw materials of local origin or they had been moved into the

The most commonly used raw material is unevenly grained and therefore no striking points on it are very noticeable, as also is the case of the tools from Vchynice. Similar handling of the tools, i.e. their deliberate breaking, is, however, suggested by the fact that there are only five complete tools (in one piece) in the entire assemblage of grinders. Another indicator may also be that about half of the flakes carry the remains of the working surface, i.e. they originate from previously used tools. The density

Figure 3.5. The Jaroměř site. An overall plan of the area. STK objects are shown in grey (plan by P. Burgert).

31

Jaroslav Řídký, Markéta Končelová, Pavel Burgert, Radka Šumberová, and Roman Hadacz vicinity of the settlement by the flow of the nearby Jizera River.

the raw materials of poor quality that were exploited and because of the lack of the archaeologists’ emphasis on a rigorous evaluation of GT it was not possible to make use of a larger number of comparative assemblages.

It is very likely that the distinction between grinders and querns in the citied article was erroneous. It may be due to the occurrence of smaller, hardly distinguishable fragments. For our work it is important that because of the maintenance of working surfaces we can consider them as being fragments of final and used tools.

According to our findings to date fragments of used tools - both grinders and querns - are often concentrated in the infills of rondel ditches on our processed sites. We do not think that these findings represent any result based on the larger dimensions of these objects nor the use of already abandoned ditches for the purpose of refuse management. The accumulation of fragmented GT in rondel ditches is also seen on other well-researched sites with rondels. It could therefore be that the evidence of ritual activity concentrated in the vicinity of these objects is striking in terms of their shape and size. At the same time we should also add that a similar handling of tools also occurs on other explored areas of settlements where, during the field research, the rondels were not documented.

The numbers of individual artefacts based on refits that could be composed from the fragments are not available in the article, so it is not possible to carry out a more detailed comparison with the previous case sites. We know, however, that no undamaged tools (in one piece) were found in Příšovice. Working surfaces were identified from fragments, so as in the case of Příšovice these were the remains of finished tools. The author of the publication indicates that some fragments of GT could be refitted together into larger pieces (Figure 3.6) and that due to the good quality of the materials used he deemed that they were likely deliberately fragmented.

In the Bohemian part of the Czech Republic hardly any artefact can itself be declared to be unequivocally demonstrating its ritual function (e.g. Oliva 2004). Compared for example with the Moravian sites in the ditches of Czech rondels there are not any findings of clay figurines. Also, ceramic fragments and animal skeletal remains (their composition and handling) are not fundamentally different from many “normal” settlement files (e.g. Řídký et al. 2014a). Neither any human nor animal sacrifices were documented. The accumulation of deliberately broken grinding tools can therefore represent some unique remnant of certain forms of rituals (during ceremonial feasts perhaps; e.g. Hayden 2014) taking place at the Neolithic settlements of that period. If there was an area or an object suitable for implementing rituals (e.g. a rondel) within the settlement, a part of these activities were concentrated within its vicinity.

Conclusion Using examples from the late Neolithic sites of the Bohemian part of the Czech Republic, dating back to STK, we could see that the deliberate destruction of GT during that period can be regarded as representing a frequent phenomenon. This is confirmed by the fragmentary finished tools and, in regard to the raw materials of a higher quality, also by the percussion marks or the flakes of tools with a surviving remnant of their working surface. As has previously been stated by van Gijn and Verbaas (2009) or by Adams (2008), it seems likely that this could happen based on ritual reasons. In our study we attempted to compare the sites that dated from the same STK period (its later stage - STK IV), those in which the presence of rondels there was documented in association with the expected socio-ritual functions and the sites without such “ritual” structures. Given some of

Our conclusions are sometimes based on locations that are very distant within the territory of the Bohemian part of the Czech Republic. To understand the relationship between the settlements with rondels and the settlements

Figure 3.6. The Příšovice site. A photo of a quern (max. size 620 mm), which P. Brestovanský assembled from fragments (photo by J. Řídký).

32

Grinding tools and circular enclosures without rondels, as well as for studying the actual function of rondels, it will be necessary to carry out a comparative analysis of the smaller settlement areas.

Gaffrey, Jürgen and Langenbrink, Bernd. 2003. “Experimente zur Verwendung von Klopfern bei der Herstellung von Mahlsteinen.“ In Festschrift für Jens Lüning zum 65. Geburtstag, Internationale Archäologie, Studia honoraria 20, edited by Jürg Eckert, Ursula Eisenhauer, Andreas Zimmermann, 417–421. Leidorf: Rahden/Westf.

Acknowledgements This work was accomplished with support from the project entitled “Building Structures, Activity Areas and Site Layouts of the Late Neolithic Settlement Areas (5000/4900 – 4500/4400 BC)”, No. 15-16963S that was financed by the Czech Science Foundation (GAČR) and also from the project entitled “The Socio-Ritual Centre during the Late Neolithic (4900–4500 BC)” financed by the NEURON Foundation Fund for the support of science. The research described in this paper was also accomplished with support from the project ‘Lifestyle as an unintentional identity in the Neolithic’ (Project 19-16304S), financed by the Czech Science Foundation (GAČR).

Graefe, Jan, Hamon, Caroline, Lidström-Holmberg, Cecilia, Tsoraki, Christina, and Watts, Susan. 2009. “Subsistence, social and ritual practices: quern deposits in the neolithic societies of Europe.“ In Du matériel au spirituel. Réalités archéologiques et historiques des « dépôts » de la Préhistoire à nos jours XXIXe rencontres internationales d’archéologie et d’histoire d’Antibes, edited by Sandrine Bonnardin, Caroline Hamon, Michel Lauwers, Bénédicte Quilliec, 87–96. Antibes: Éditions APDCA. Gronenborn, Detlef. 1995. “Ethnoarchäologische Untersuchungen zur rezenten Herstellung und Nutzung von Mahlsteinen in Nordost-Nigeria.“ Experimentelle Archäologie Bilanz 1994 - Symposion in Duisburg August 1993. Sonderdruck aus Archäologische Mitteilungen aus Nordwestdeutschland, Beiheft 8: 45–55.

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Němejcová-Pavúková, Viera. 1995. Svodín: Zwei Kreisgrabenanlagen der Lengyel Kultur. Bratislava: Univerzita Komenského. Oliva, Martin. 2004. “Flint mining, rondels, hilforts… Symbolic works or too much free time?”Archeologické rozhledy LVI: 499–531.

Stäuble, Harald. 2012. “Stichbandkeramische Kreisgrabenanlagen aus Sachses – Neues zu einem alten Thema?” In Neolithische Kreisgrabenanlagen in Europa – Neolithic Circular Enclosures in Europe, Tagungen des Landesmuseums für Vorgeschichte Halle, Band 6, edited by Francois Bertemes, Harald Meller, 135–158. Halle: Landesamt für Denkmapflege un Archäologie Sachsen-Anhalt.

Pavlů, Ivan. 2001. “Alternative Interpretation der neolithischen Kreisgrabenanlagen am Beispiel von Vochov, Bez. Pilsen-Nord.” In Sein & Sinn, Burg & Mench, Niederësterreichische Landesaustellung 2001, edited by Falko Deim, Thomas Kühtreiber, 185–187, St. Pölten: Niederösterreichische Landesmuseum.

Trnka, Gerhard. 1991. Studien zu mittelneolithischen Kreisgrabenanlagen. Wien: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften.

Pavlů, Ivan. 2012. “Artefakte und die Funktion von Kreisgrabenanlagen.“ In Neolithische Kreisgrabenanlagen in Europa – Neolithic Circular Enclosures in Europe, Tagungen des Landesmuseums für Vorgeschichte Halle, Band 6, edited by Francois Bertemes, Harald Meller, 273–278. Halle: Landesamt für Denkmapflege un Archäologie Sachsen-Anhalt.

Van Gijn, Annelou and Verbaas, Anemieke. 2009. Reconstructing the life history of querns: the case of the LBK site of Geleen-Janskamperveld. https:// openaccess.leidenuniv.nl/handle/1887/16271.

Pavlů, Ivan, Rulf, Jan, Hoffmanová, Alena, Hoffman Václav, Popelka, Miroslav, and Přichystal, Antonín 1991. “Stone Industry from the neolithic site of Bylany.” Památky archeologické 82 : 277–365.

Verbaas, Annemieke & van Gijn, Annelou. 2007. “Querns and other stone tools from Geleen-Janskamperveld.” In Excavations at Geleen-Janskamperveld 1990/1991, edited by Pieter van de Velde, 191–204. Leiden: Leiden University.

Pavlů, Ivan and Zápotocká, Marie. 2013. The Prehistory of Bohemia 2. The Neolithic. Praha: Institute of Archaeology CAS.

Wright, Karen. 1994. “Ground – stone tools and hunter – gatherer subsistence in southwest Asia: implications for the transition to farming.” American Antiquity 59, no. 2: 238–263.

Petrasch, Jörg. 1990. Mittelneolithische Kreisgrabeanlagen in Mitteleuropa. Meinz am Rhein: Deutsche Archäologische Institut. Petrasch, Jörg. 1998. Die jungsteinzeitliche Kreisgrabenanlage von Künzing-Unternberg. Deggendorf. Petrasch, Jörg. 2012. “Die mittelneolithische Kreisgrabenanlagen in Zentraleuropa: Forschungsstand und Interpretationstheorien zu Funktion und Bedeutung.“ In Neolithische Kreisgrabenanlagen in Europa – Neolithic Circular Enclosures in Europe, Tagungen des Landesmuseums für Vorgeschichte Halle, Band 6, edited by Francois Bertemes, Harald Meller, 41–66. Halle: Landesamt für Denkmapflege un Archäologie Sachsen-Anhalt.

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4 Amber discs with cross decoration from the eastern Baltic region. A research case study from the Daktariškė 5 Neolithic settlement, western Lithuania Adomas Butrimas, Tomas Rimkus, and Gvidas Slah Due to its aesthetic appeal and special characteristics amber was used since the Late Palaeolithic period and it appears that this jewellery was often used for ceremonial rites. One of these pendants – an amber disc with cross decoration – was found during archaeological excavations of Daktariškė 5, a Neolithic settlement, in western Lithuania (Telšiai district). For many years, together with the amber assemblages from Palanga, Šventoji and Juodkrantė, this artefact represented the majority of evidence of Neolithic amber manufacturing and use in Lithuania. In 2016, researchers from several Lithuanian scientific institutions and museums conducted a series of analyses on this amber disc with cross decoration. In this case study, use-wear, and FTIR and micro FT-Raman spectral analysis were used. The results allowed to ascertain the manufacturing process including the identification what type of tools were used for its production. During the use-wear analysis, various colour organic material residues were detected on the surface of ornamentation. Samples of this material were studied by FTIR and micro FT-Raman spectral analysis. The results of these analyses allowed us to not only reconstruct what the artefact originally looked like but also provided insights into the manufacturing process of the Late Neolithic tars used to colour the engravings.

Introduction

settlements cultural layer in 1987, a unique prehistoric art and ceremonial artefact was found – an amber disc with cross decoration. For many years this artefact, alongside with the Neolithic amber collections from Juodkrantė, Palanga and Šventoji, represented the evidence for amber processing in western Lithuania during the Neolithic. In early 2016, a team of researchers from various Lithuanian scientific institutions and museums conducted a series of anlayses on the amber disc. The analysis, including usewear, and FTIR and micro FT-Raman spectral analysis gave new insights on how this artefact originally looked like, what kind of tools where used for its manufacture, and the meaning it had to the Neolithic communities. The purpose of this paper is to represent these latest studies and the results of the analyses of the amber disc with cross decoration from the Daktariškė 5 Neolithic settlement.

More than 60 Stone Age sites were found in Samogitian highland, near Biržulis Lake environs, during fieldwalking at the end of the twentieth century (Butrimas 1980; 1982). During systematic surveys and excavations Palaeolithic, Mesolithic, and Neolithic camps and settlements, and Mesolithic-Neolithic burial grounds have been found (Butrimas 2012). Many artefacts made from pottery, flint, rocks, wood, bone, antler, and amber were collected. In Lithuania, natural amber deposits are mostly found in the Baltic Sea coast area, i.e. Curonian Spit, Klaipėda, and Palanga vicinities. Many Neolithic amber artefacts and workshops were found in Curonian Spit and Šventoji territories (Rimantienė 1999; 2005; 2016). Although the Samogitian highlands nowadays are about 100 km from the Baltic Sea coast, natural amber deposits are found in the vicinity of Lūkstas Lake (Baltrūnas et al. 2004, 40), and it is no doubt that these deposits were definitely used by the Stone Age communities.

Methods Use-wear analysis

Daktariškė 5 Neolithic2 settlement was established on a hill, alongside what is now a peaty part of Biržulis Lake. It is one of the settlements where abundant amber artefacts were collected during archaeological excavations (Butrimas 2001). The settlement was found in 1986, and from that time systematic excavations lasted five seasons, until 1990 (Butrimas 1988; 1990; 1992). During the excavation of the

The use-wear analysis of amber disc was conducted at the University of Klaipėda, Institute of Baltic region history and archaeology (BRIAI), experimental archaeology and traceology laboratory. For the analysis, Olympus SZX 16 stereoscopic microscope with attached Olympus DP72 camera was used. With the help of this device objects, images can be magnified up to 690 times. During microscopic analysis of the amber disc, the best results were obtained between 10 and 20 magnification times. Images were processed with Image-Pro Express ver. 6.3 software.

Neolithic period in the eastern European forest zone begins with the introduction of pottery (Girininkas 2009, 127; Piezonka et al. 2016, 267; Zhilin 2000, 287).

2

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Adomas Butrimas, Tomas Rimkus, and Gvidas Slah The BRIAI experimental archaeology and traceology laboratory also has experimental flint and organic tools, which allowed the researchers to use these comparative materials for more detail use-wear analysis of archaeological artefacts, like the amber disk presented here (Rimkus 2016; Slah 2013, 164).

area of Stervas lake. Environmental core samples taken at the settlement showed that during the Sub-Boreal period this area was shallow, and perhaps had a tiny river ran between Biržulis and Stervas lake (Kunskas, Butrimas 1985; Stančikaitė et al. 2004)s. The settlement was discovered in 1986 (Butrimas 1988), by Janapolė middle school students. They collected all artefacts from the surface and informed archaeologists. Between1987–1990 rescue excavations were carried out, which were directed by archaeologist prof. Dr Adomas Butrimas.

FTIR and micro FT-Raman spectral analysis IR spectral analysis had been a common technique for the numerous investigations of natural resins, gums, pitches and tars as well as amber artefacts in art and archaeological objects (Font et al. 2007; Lettieri 2015). In recent years Raman spectroscopy has increasingly been used as a powerful tool to investigate materials in molecular level as it is non-destructive. Though fossilized resin – amber has been investigated quite widely (Edwards, Farwell 1996), the examination of the residues on the surface of these amber objects has not been widespread. Thus, FTIR and Raman spectral analysis of the brown residues in pits and red remnants in the engravings on the other side of the amber disc was carried out to obtain more information.

Excavations and cultural layer The distribution of the surface stray finds indicated that the settlement about 100 m in long running East-West and about 20–25 m wide running North-South. During a season in 1987 the western part of the settlement was excavated, and the eastern part was studied between1988–1990 (Figure 4.2). The settlement was excavated with a series of trenches 4 m wide and 10–16 m long. Trenches 1–6 and 8–11 were oriented in North-South, only trench 7 was oriented East-West. All North-South oriented areas were slopping downward in the southern parts. Coordinates of these trench areas were marked with numbers and letters (Figure 4.3).

Both analyses were carried out in the National Museum of Lithuania, and State research institute centre for physical sciences and technology in Vilnius. FTIR spectral analysis of both brown and red remnants on the amber disc was performed using a spectrophotometer FTIR – 8400S, SHIMADZU with attached IR microscope AIM – 8800, SHIMADZU (Brody et al. 2001; Edwards, Farwell 1996). Samples were pressed in to a diamond cell Thermo Spectra-Tech P/N 0045–344 (scan number – 200, resolution– 4 [1/cm], data processed using IR Solution software).

Location and topography

The archaeological excavations showed that the plough layer was about 20–30 cm thick and the average thickness of cultural layer was about 20–50 cm. In the areas near the hill, under the plough layer, the thickness of the cultural layer was between 5 and 20 cm. In the northern parts of excavated areas pottery sherds with crushed granite inclusions, stone artefacts, and flint tools were most common. In the middle and southern parts of excavated areas, under the plough layer hemic peat was unearthed. In the middle parts of excavated areas the cultural layer was found under the plough and hemic peat layers, in the same area sometimes it was also found under very thin washed clay layer. The cultural layer in this area was about 15– 30 cm thick and it was extended at a depth of 40–70 cm from the ground surface. Sherds with mineral and organic inclusions, sometimes with crushed shells were found in this excavation area. In addition, osteological material, Late Neolithic amber, bone, and antler tools were found as well as net weights with intact birch bark, and pine floats were common also. Flint tools, though, were relative rare in this area.

The Neolithic settlement lies in the Samogitian highland area, western Lithuania (Telšiai district), about 2300 m east from the Rešketa river bridge on the Telšiai – Varniai road. The site is about 900 m east from Daktariškė 1 settlement, on the hill’s southern part which is situated between Biržulis and Stervas lakes. The settlement is also near the eastern border of Daktariškė village (Figure 4.1). A reclamation trench separates the fields where stray surface finds were found and where the Neolithic settlement is located from the mixed scrubby forested area of the peaty

In the southern parts of the excavated area, the cultural layer was found to be deeper. It lay under a brown hemic peat layer and often also under a carbonated sapropel layer. Here the cultural layer was about 10–50 cm in thick. This part of the area contained more sherds with crushed shells inclusions, bone and antler tools, also, fragments of paddles and from a wooden bowl were also found. Two Kongemose oblique points were also found here. This area was dated to the earliest phase of the settlement – Early Neolithic.

The Raman measurements were recorded with 785 nm (diode laser) excitation by using Reneshaw inVia Raman microscope, equipped with a grating containing 1200 groove/mm (Vandenabeele et al. 2003). Laser power in the sample was 1.1 mW. The raman spectrum was taken using a 20 × objective lens. Integration time was 100 s. These methods have proved to be suitable for archaeological objects analysis (Bradtmöller et al. 2016; Prinsloo et al. 2014). Daktariškė 5 Neolithic settlement

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Amber discs with cross decoration from the eastern Baltic region

Figure 4.1. Location of Daktariškė 5 Neolithic settlement (map by A. Butrimas).

Area’s 7, which was oriented in East-West direction, stratigraphy was very similar to above mentioned southern settlements part layers. In the whole area several dozens of sherds with crushed shells inclusions, wooden stakes, parts of tree trunks, antler axes, and animal bones were found.

The stratigraphy of the western area of the excavations differed from the aforementioned trenches. In trenches 9–11, near edges of squares 2 and 3, two cultural layers in the South direction began to emerge. In trench 10, square 10 had the following stratigraphy: 0–40 cm turf, 40–100 37

Adomas Butrimas, Tomas Rimkus, and Gvidas Slah cm brown hemic peat layer, under it 100–120 cm a thick upper sapropel layer was found, in a depth of 120–145 cm the upper cultural layer emerged, 145–150 cm a second sapropel layer lay, and under this the lower cultural layer was found. Under the lower cultural only the lake’s argil was unearthed. Several parts of the excavated western area contained areas with coniferous trees bark. Tree trunks, stakes, and fragments of fishing baskets were scattered in the western area. The upper cultural layer contained pottery with mineral inclusions, however, in the lower cultural layer sherds with crushed shells inclusions were more common. Finds and chronology Pottery fragments constituted a large proportion of the finds from the excavations. Of these pottery findings circa 6000 fragments contained either crushed shell and organic inclusions and belong to the Narva culture. About 1600 sherds were found with mineral inclusions, which are characteristic to Corded Ware culture, and only a small amount of sherds characteristic to Globular Amphorae culture were identified (Butrimas 2016, 92; Iršėnas, Butrimas 2000). Only 300 flint tools were found. The earliest flint tools included two Kongemose type oblique points. Such points are common and their analogies can be found in southern Scandinavia Mesolithic settlements (Larsson 1980). Flint trapezes, one massive spearpoint, spokeshaves, scrapers, and knives were also found. 132 amber artefacts were found in total: 18 pendants and their blanks, 5 beads and their blanks, 5 discs, 1 ring, 16

Figure 2.2. The culture layer under excavation in 1990 (photo by A. Butrimas).

Figure 2.3. One of the excavation areas in 1990 (photo by A. Butrimas).

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Amber discs with cross decoration from the eastern Baltic region southern part. Soil samples taken from the same layer as the amber disk with the cross decoration were dated to 3096–2885 BC.

V-shaped drilled buttons, and 1 ornamented double button shape bead (Butrimas 2001). More than 30 artefacts made of bone and antler, dated to the Early Neolithic were also found in addition to stone and wooden artefacts.

The disc is 3.6 cm in diameter, is lens shaped in its cross section, with a small perforated hole through the middle of the disk. After manufacturing the artefact was polished (Figure 4.5). Yellowish, good quality amber raw material was chosen for the disc production. On the basis of current data, it is hard to say if local or non-local raw material was used. One side of the disc is divided into four uneven sections by an engraved cross-shaped decoration. Along the edges, small triangles are formed of rows of bored small pits. Due to the presence of the other decoration elements along the edge, all of the arms of the cross are an uneven length. The smallest number of pits forming one triangle is 25, the largest number of bored pits is 50, whilst on average the triangles are made up of 37 and 38 pits. In total 150 pits were bored into the surface of the amber forming the triangles. If pits from cross are included, a total 275 pits on the amber disc are present. On the reverse side, about 75 small lines are incised in triangle-shaped forms. These lines frequently cross each other, so it is difficult to determine their exact number.

Daktariškė 5 Neolithic settlement is a multi-layered site, with good preservation conditions for organic material. According to the radiocarbon dates occupation extended over almost 2000 years with dates taken from pottery, bone and antler showed the earliest phase of the settlement – 4468–4246 BC (Vs-808), 4360–4250 BC (RICH-22969). The latest phase is dated to the 2880–2630 BC (RICH22950). The cultural layer where an amber disc with cross decoration was found, was dated to 3096–2885 BC (Vs318). The amber disc with cross decoration Amber artefacts were quite abundant in the Daktariškė 5 Neolithic settlement. Most of them were distributed in the central and eastern parts of the excavated area (Figure 4.4). These disks came in various sizes as well as both ornamented and unornamented forms (Butrimas 2001, 12). The amber disc with cross decoration was found in the settlement’s cultural layer, in area trench, square 4b. In this part, the following stratigraphy was noticed: 30– 35 cm soil, 35–45 cm hemic peat layer, 60–80 cm from ground surface began the cultural layer, which ended in a 90–98 cm depth. The cultural layer was declivous in the

Use-wear analysis For the more detailed analysis, use-wear of the amber disc with cross decoration from the Daktariškė 5 Neolithic

Figure 4.4. Distribution of amber artefacts in Daktariškė 5 Neolithic settlement. (plan by A. Butrimas).

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Adomas Butrimas, Tomas Rimkus, and Gvidas Slah

Figure 4.5. Amber disc with cross decoration from the Daktariškė 5 Neolithic settlement. Obverse and reverse sides. (photo by G. Slah).

settlement was conducted at the University of Klaipėda, Baltic region institute of history and archaeology, experimental archaeology and traceology laboratory. During the analysis, some very important aspects of the manufacture and the use of the artefact was revealed.

was accomplished that left similar traces to those observed on the Neolithic amber disk (Figure 4.8). The backside of the disc is decorated with engraved lines, which forms eight triangles. These triangles are filled with

The diameter of the pits is between approximately 0.39 – 0,59 mm (Figure 4.6). Some pits are connected into one long line, which is about 1 mm in length. The central hole, which is about 3.5mm in diameter, was made with a borer. This hole could have been tied with some kind of string, and the whole artefact could have been served as a pendant for ritual purposes. Drilling marks can be seen from both sides of the amber disc (Figure 4.7). These drilling marks are interpreted to have been formed due to the use of a flint borer, which is also thought to have been used to drill the small pits forming the decoration. This was further supported by the experimental research, as a copy of flint borer was manufactured and a successful drilling of amber

Figure 4.7. View of centre hole. Magnification 10x. (photo by G. Slah).

Figure 4.6. Pits and their diameter in the reverse side of the artefact. Magnification 10x. (photo by G. Slah).

Figure 4.8. Experimental flint borer used for amber drilling. (photo by T. Rimkus).

40

Amber discs with cross decoration from the eastern Baltic region smaller overlapping lines. This ornamentation is only visible on the edge of the amber disc. Microscopic analysis showed, that these lines are V-shaped and probably were made using flint knife or flake. They are approximately 0.02 – 0.92 mm in diameter (Figure 4.9).

1. The brown substance in the pits was identified to be a mixture of coniferous tree resin and probably some gum, beeswax and fat, while the red traces were aluminium silicate, red ochre and beeswax. IR spectrum shows absorption bands characteristic for polysaccharides– 3458 – 3328 cm –1 O-H, 1662 cm –1, C-H, 1083 cm –1 C-O, beeswax – 2852 cm –1 CH2, 1740 C=O, 1175 C – O, resin – 2958 – 2927 cm –1 C – H, 2852 cm –1, 1662 C=O, 798 cm (Figure 4.10). 2. The light red material (the opposite side of the disk) is aluminium silicate (possibly clay) – absorption bands 3695 – 3620 cm –1 O-H, 1116 – 1027 cm –1 Si-O-Si, 914 – 796 cm –1 Si-O and beeswax – 2954 – 2848 cm –1 C-H, 1737 cm –1 C=O, 1463 cm –1, C-H (Figure 4.11). 3. The origin of the browny yellow spot on the surface of the artefact also was analyzed using micro Raman spectroscopy. The presence of coniferous resin and wax was identified (Figure 4.12). The investigation results showed the band in 1619 – 1765 cm–1 and 748 – 361 cm–1 are characteristic for coniferous trees, whereas 1483 cm–1, 1308 cm–1, 1064 cm–1 and 998 cm–1 – beeswax. The measurements were carried out in three different places on the ornamentation as well as on the undecorated portions of the amber. There were a significant noise and no specific spectrum was detected in both cases.

After the production, both surfaces of the amber disc were polished with leather or the plant equisetum. No rough grinding traces were detected on both surfaces, so it seems that sandstone or other rock types were not used for polishing. It seems that pits and lines were filled with a tar-like substance. In Europe, the making of tar is known since the Middle Palaeolithic period (Koller et al. 2001). Over the preceding millennia, this substance was used for tools, weapons, and decoration. On the amber disk this black pigment was used as a colouring agent, which filled the ornamentation on both sides of the amber disc. This way the amber disc and the ornamentation was more visually impressive. FTIR and micro FT-Raman spectral analysis During use-wear analysis, black, brown and reddish coloured material was discovered on the surface of the ornamentation on the amber disc. In the researcher’s opinion, this could have been some potential organic material. For more detailed analysis of this substance, FTIR and micro FT-Raman spectral analysis was conducted. FTIR analysis results have revealed that:

Discussion and final remarks We have managed to catalogue 37 amber discs decorated with a cross and with or without a small central hole. They

Figure 4.9. IR spectrum of brown residue. (analysis by I. Matulaitienė).

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Adomas Butrimas, Tomas Rimkus, and Gvidas Slah

Figure 4.10. IR spectra of light red residue. (analaysis by I. Matulaitienė).

vary in size from 2.5 to 10–11 cm and are made from amber in various colours. The varying quality of their preservation makes it hard to determine a typology and interpret their symbolic meaning. Amber discs without

ornamentation were not included in the typological scheme as the authors believe that their chronology and symbolic meaning is different than those with ornamentation. The decorated discs were divided into four groups:

Figure 4.11. Raman spectrum of the brown inclusion in the amber. (analysis R. Ulozaitė).

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Amber discs with cross decoration from the eastern Baltic region

Figure 4.12. Distribution of amber discs with cross decoration. Lithuania: 1. Daktariškė 5 2. Būtingė 3. Šventoji 4. Palanga 5. Šventoji 23 6–11. Juodkrantė 12. Eastern former Prussia 13. Daktariškė 5. Poland: 14. Rheinswein 15. Stauchwitz 16. Murzynowo 17. Baldy 18, 19. Zlota 20. Naruszewo 21. Rzeszynek 22. Swierczyn 23. Schraplau 24. Kąty Rybackie 25. Unknown, Gdansk vicinity 26. Gutanów 27. Murzynno 28. Unknown, eastern former Prussia 29. Szczepankowo 30. Szwarcenewo 31. Unknown, Gdnask coastal area 32. Olsztyn 33. Kolonia Dębice 34. Rzucewo. Ukraine: 35. Ivan. Denmark: 36. Horsensegnen 37. Bognæsgården. (map by A. Butrimas).

4. The group is a mixed collection comprising crosses made of incisions, discs decorated on one side, discs decorated with crosses with irregular, crooked lines, and unfinished items.

1. Discs decorated with an only small cross. The cross is usually composed of double or triple lines of pits or hollows, although some have been found with single lines of such ornament. 2. Discs whose cruciform decoration is in the centre of the disc and the edges have a perimeter of one, two or three lines of pits or hollows. 3. Discs with a double or triple cross and along the whole perimeter of the disc the edges have small single or double triangles formed of pits or hollows.

The distribution of amber discs with cross decoration is fairly limited (Figure 4.13). The largest number of artefacts are spread in the south-eastern coast of the Baltic Sea: nowadays Lithuania and Poland. Besides the Daktariškė 5 settlement, in Lithuania amber discs with cross decoration 43

Adomas Butrimas, Tomas Rimkus, and Gvidas Slah were found as surface, hoard finds, or during archaeological excavations in Būtingė, Šventoji, Juodkrantė, and Palanga (Butrimas 2016a, 11–15; Klebs 1882, Rimantienė 2005). During the Late Neolithic, these places were inhabited by Bay Coast (Rzucewo, Primorskaya), Narva, and Globular Amphorae cultures. One of the densest concentrations of amber discs is Masurian Lakeland, north-eastern Poland. Here, many and various types of cross decorated discs were found during field surveys or excavations. The most northern find location of these amber disks of is from the settlement of Būtingė 2 (north-western Lithuania). Although during the Stone Age, the settlement complex in Sārnate and Lubāna Lake in Latvia had huge amber deposits and workshops (Bērziņš 2003; 2008, 453; Loze 2013, 150), no amber discs with cross decoration have been found there. Further, into the South, sporadically amber discs can be found in southern Poland and northwestern Ukraine. Currently, Denmark is the most western territory where decorated amber disc with Globular Amphorae culture pottery have been found.

The context of amber discs with cross decoration in burials may indicate that that these artefacts were used for ceremonial rites, while their complex geometrical decoration could suggest a relationship with the Late Neolithic cosmology. Cross-decorated amber discs have been found in burials at Rheinswein, Stauchwitz, Wąbrzeźno, Baldy, Naruszewo, Rzeszynek, Swierczyn, Sczepankowo, Ransk and Ivan cemeteries in Poland and Ukraine (Krzak 1976, 144, 145; Mazurowski 1983, 95–98; Šturms 1956, 18–19). In burials, these artefacts frequently were placed on the diseased heads. In Latvia, at the Zvejnieki burial ground, burials 225 and 275 included amber rings that had been placed in their eyes sockets (Zagorska 2001, 110–112). This could suggest a similar religious nature of decorated amber discs and rings. Many researchers believe that that during the Stone Age amber discs represented the symbol of the sun (Šturms 1956, 15) and that as a replacement for gold, amber was the most suitable ritual material in the south-eastern Baltic Sea region. Even in the ninetieth-century amateur archaeologist O. Tischler was certain that ornamentation on the amber discs must have been filled in with some colourant (Klebs 1882, 211). The above described analyses of the amber disc with cross-decoration from Daktariškė 5 Neolithic settlement enabled not only to reconstruct its manufacturing process, but also various colouring material was detected in pits forming the ornamentation. FTIR and micro FT-Raman spectral analysis methods were used for further investigation of this material. After the analysis, it was clear that the brown material consisted of pine tree resin, bee wax, and fats. In the reddish material remains of aluminium silicate, ochre, and beeswax was found. No doubt that the current form of the amber disc is different than its appearance in the Late Neolithic, due the colour of the amber as well as the tar-like colourants used in the engravings. Most likely the pit ornamentation on both sides of the disk and the engraved lines on the backside during the Late Neolithic were painted brown/black and red. The material used in these colourants were likely gathered and manufactured from local environs. The results let us believe that this artefact had a deeper meaning in the lives of prehistoric communities than we thought until now, as it wasafter the various analysis had been performed that the symbolic nature and prestige value of this disc have become highlighted.

The overwhelming proportion of amber discs are found as surface, hoard finds, or in Globular Amphorae and Złota cultures burials or settlements (Kempisty 1971; Krzak 1968; Okulicz 1973). The primary difference between these different contexts are the preservation conditions; those that are found in peaty layers are much better preserved. These favourable conditions enabled these and other artefacts to preserve for thousands of years, and thus their condition of these artefacts are almost unchanged. Currently there is no established chronology of decorated amber discs, however, by studying the available radiocarbon dates it is possible to identify a relative short period of use. A majority are found in Globular Amphorae culture burials in Poland that date between 3300– 2200 BC (Mazurowski 1983; Neustupný 1966). In Lithuania, the Daktariškė 5 settlement’s layer with the disc is dated to 3096–2885 BC, Šventoji 1A settlement is dated to 2880–2495 BC and 2882–2582 BC, Šventoji 23 settlement dates between 2880–2623 BC and 2271–1984 BC (Iršėnas, Butrimas 2000; Rimantienė 2005). Thus the radiocarbon dates indicate that the amber disks were in use c. 3100–2000 BC, i.e. Late Neolithic. During Late Neolithic, these settlements were inhabited by Bay Coast, Narva and Globular Amphorae cultures. In the Baltic Sea coast zone of Poland and in Masurian Lakeland amber discs are mostly found as stray finds, or as grave goods in Globular Amphorae burials. Based on typology and available dates, their chronology should be similar to the ones found Lithuania. In the Globular Amphorae culture, artefacts of copper have been found in graves and settlements in Poland and Belarus (Szmyt 1999, 197). With this culture, the earliest metal artefacts could have been introduced in western Lithuania, although no reliable evidence of this has been found. The latest studies indicate that first copper tools in southern Scandinavia and Central Europe were introduced in 4600–3800 BC (Klassen 2000, 45; Scharl 2016, 222–226). There is also evidence for cross-decorated amber objects in the Bronze Age and even in even in western Lithuania’s Iron Age sites. This shows a definite continuation of this symbolism.

It is a first time in Lithuanian archaeology that an amber artefact has been analysed using use-wear analysis. We are pleased that the use-wear, and FTIR and micro FT-Raman spectroscopy methods have proved to be a particularly suitable technique for non-destructive analysis of such a significant archaeological object (Jehlička, Edwards 2008; Lombard, Wadley 2007). Acknowledgements This research was funded by the Lithuanian Council of Research, project No. MIP-036/2015. The authors are also 44

Amber discs with cross decoration from the eastern Baltic region very grateful to Regina Ulozaitė and Dr Ieva Matulaitienė for conducting FTIR and micro FT-Raman spectroscopy analysis.

Butrimas, Adomas. 2016. The Stone Age in West Lithuania. In A hundred years of archaeological discoveries in Lithuania, edited by Gintautas Zabiela, Eglė Marcinkevičiūtė, and Zenonas Baubonis, 86–95. Vilnius: Society of the Lithuanian archaeology,

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5 The role of chipped stone artefacts in the Late Neolithic burial practices at the site Alsónyék (Southern Hungary) Kata Szilágyi This article summarizes the current state of research on the chipped stone assemblages from the Late Neolithic site Alsónyék‒Bátaszék (southeastern Transdanubia). This unusually large site which is correspondingly reflected, in the large number of houses, burials and finds (ceramics, zoological remains, bone- antler- and stone tools). Nearly 6200 stone tools also came from the archaeological features. A majority of the chipped stone assemblage (4947 pcs, 79%) were recovered from the settlement’s pits, with the remainder deposited as grave goods (1313 pcs, 21%). The whole 25 hectare site of Alsónyék−Bátaszék was excavated in multiple subareas (called subsites). The northern part of the site, named Alsónyék−Kanizsa-dűlő, is where most of the houses and graves were found. For this reason, we started the analysis of the stone tool assemblage and created new methodological framework for this sub-site. Many of the burials from in Alsónyék−Kanizsa-dűlő are found in distinct grave clusters or groups that included between 25 to 100 individual burials. The most common burial form is oval in shape, although there are special graves with a rectangular shape which were documented for the first time by this excavation. The aim of this article is to present the raw material distribution and its correlation with these two kinds of grave forms. In addition, we would like to make some conclusions about the Late Neolithic burial practices at the site. Introduction

unique among the culture’s known sites and represents a flourishing stage of the culture (Zalai-Gaál and Osztás 2009, 262).

Alsónyék‒Bátaszék is a very large Neolithic site in southern Hungary, more precisely in southeast Transdanubia. This micro-region of Transdanubia is called Tolna Sárköz. The Szekszárd Hills form the boundary of the site to the west and the wide alluvial plains of the former Danube channels that to the east. Alsónyék is located at the meeting point of these two different regions, the Transdanubian Hills and the Great Pannonian Plain. This area, thus represented, contact zone between the Neolithic populations of the northern Balkans and Central Europe.

The site was investigated during the archaeological excavations preceding the construction of the M6 motorway between 2006 and 2009. In addition to the Institute of Archaeology of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, several other institutions also participated. The excavations were conducted independently at several locations simultaneously owing to the tight excavation schedule. The roughly 15.443 features uncovered reflect the site’s intensive occupation and the large, 254.417 m2, area of the excavations (Osztás et al. 2013a, 18; Rassmann at al. 2015; Serlegi et al. 2013).

The Lengyel culture was the main successor of the Linear Pottery culture in the Late Neolithic and Early Copper Age in Central Europe. The first and the most typical ceramics were found at the eponymous site of Lengyel (a small village in Tolna County, southeast Transdanubia). This site was explored by Mór Wosinsky in the 1880s. The Late Neolithic (post-LBK) communities of the 5th millennium BC were living in what is now western Hungary (Transdanubia), eastern Austria, western Slovakia, the southern part of the Czech Republic and southern Poland (Bánffy et al. 2014, 357). The Lengyel culture can be further differentiated into several local groups within the culture’s enormous distribution area. Alsónyék belongs to the southeast Transdanubian group of the Late Neolithic Lengyel culture. Other sites in this group with published stone assemblages include Zengővárkony, Pécsvárad‒ Aranyhegy, Lengyel‒Sánc, Mórágy‒Tűzkődomb and Villánykövesd. The Lengyel settlement of Alsónyék is

At Alsónyék periods of occupation are represented from virtually the entire Neolithic (Starčevo culture, Central European Linearbandkeramik (LBK), Sopot culture and Lengyel culture) (Osztás, Zalai-Gaál, and Bánffy 2012, 377–378; Osztás et al. 2013b, 180; Gallina et al. 2010, 7). Nearly 9000 of the approximately 15.500 features can be assigned to the Lengyel culture, comprising 2300 burials, hundreds of pits, and 122 post-framed houses. At no other Neolithic site in Hungary have so many burials and post-framed houses been found, making Alsónyék a very important site for the Neolithic period in the area. Alsónyék is dated by relative chronology to the period Lengyel IbII. A total of 217 radiocarbon dates were produced in the course of The Times of Their Lives (TOTL) project. At Alsónyék‒Kanizsa-dűlő the burial activity began in 4740–4685 cal BC (95% probability) − 4715–4690 cal BC 47

Kata Szilágyi

Figure 5.1. Location of the Alsónyék‒Bátaszék site, the sites of the other lithic assemblages investigated and the Mecsek radiolarite geological sources. Created by Kata Szilágyi.

(68% probability) and ended in 4705–4640 cal BC (95% probability) − 4695–4670 cal BC (68% probability) (Osztás et al. 2013b, 222–23). The burial activity therefore took place over a very short period (less than 100 years) of time (Figure 5.1).

The burials reflect the Lengyel culture’s more or less strict burial rite: the deceased were laid to rest in a contracted position aligned east-west with their face to the south. Several graves contained some sort of a wooden structure; this structure was observed for the first time at Alsónyék. Although the majority of graves were oval in shape, those with this wooden structure were deeper and rectangular (Osztás et al. 2013b, 189; Osztás, Zalai-Gaál, and Bánffy 2012, 390; Zalai-Gaál 2002, 41–42) (Figure 3). These rectangular-shaped burials measured 2 x 2 meters and had a large posthole in each corner. The rich variety of grave goods – costume adornments, jewelry (copper finger rings and beads), prestige items (Spondylus arm rings and belts, Dentalium shell beads), and other artefacts reflecting social status (polished stone tools) – suggests that these graves could have belonged to the community’s highstatus members, and can thus be seen as a reflection of early social ranking (Zalai-Gaál et al. 2011). A typical grave assemblage comprised 1–4 pots and perhaps a stone or bone tool. The pottery types are fairly varied in shape and size (bowls, cups, biconical vessels, Butmir-type pots etc.), and do not differ markedly from the ceramic materials of other southeast Transdanubian Lengyel burials (ZalaiGaál 2009) (Figure 5.4).

Materials and methods Most of the burials can be associated with discrete grave groups. All in all, 92 grave groups have been identified. The grave groups consisted of 25–30 to 100 burials and were found near the buildings. On average there were 25–40 burials in a group (Figure 5.2). These grave groups represent an important change in mortuary practices in the Late Neolithic period, as such a large number of structured burial activities are not known in the preceding Central European LBK in Hungary (Borić 2015, 937). Approximately 2300 Lengyel burials were uncovered at Alsónyék−Bátaszék, making it the site with the largest number of burials belonging to the Lengyel culture (Osztás et al. 2013b, 182). The second largest number of burials are known from Zengővárkony (368 graves) (Dombay 1939, 1960). Only 109 graves were uncovered in Mórágy‒ Tűzkődomb (Zalai-Gaál 2002, 2009). Therefore, from a quantitative point of view, Alsónyék is an important site in the Late Neolithic Carpathian Basin and Central Europe as well.

Although the rectangular burials contained prestige goods, and thus seem extraordinary, they were not located 48

The role of chipped stone artefacts in the Late Neolithic burial practices at the site Alsónyék (Southern Hungary)

Figure 5.2. The grave group No. 76 (Osztás et alii 2013b, 183, Fig.2.).

in a central position and, importantly for this study, did not always include a large number of stone tools. From an osteological perspective, the frequency of different pathological alterations and dental diseases is also similar to that of the rest of the population buried in simple graves. The archaeologically manifested socio-economic differentiation therefore cannot be supported by the physical anthropological characteristics related to the lifestyle of the members of the Alsónyék community or by a special spatial patterning. The anthropological investigation mentioned above included 66 individuals who were buried in rectangularshaped graves. In addition to the similarities between these individuals and the rest of the population in pathologies and dental diseases, their demographic and morphometric characteristics also fall within the normal range of the wider Alsónyék community. The osteological profiles of the interred individuals also suggest that the grave groups were not organized by familial relation (Köhler 2012) or kinship-based funerary practices. The task of future research will be to examine all possible organizing principles behind the grave groups. In this article, we deal with Alsónyék−Kanizsa-dűlő only, where 862 graves were found. The majority of these graves can be assigned to one of 41 grave groups.

Figure 5.3. Example of an oval-shaped burial (No. 6346) at Alsónyék−Kanizsa-dűlő

49

Kata Szilágyi Table 5.1. Quantity and percent of different raw materials in the burials of the study area. Raw material

Figure 5.4. Example of a rectangular-shaped burial (No. 813) at Alsónyék−Kanizsa-dűlő.

Results

Quantity (pc)

Percent (%)

Mecsek radiolarite

294

47,12

Bakony radiolarite

177

28,37

Other radiolarite

52

8,33

Flint

17

2,72

Limnoquartzite

18

2,88

Obsidian

18

2,88

Volhynian flint

22

3,53

Chocolate flint

11

1,76

Cracow Jurassic flint

6

0,96

Balkan flint

2

0,32

Plattensilex

1

0,16

Unidentifiable

6

0,96

624

100,00

Total

Raw materials and its distribution 1313 stone tools were found in burial contexts across the entire site, nearly one quarter (20.97%) of the whole assemblage. One half (624 pc., 47.52%) of the chipped stone collection from these burial contexts came from the northern part of the site (Alsónyék‒Kanizsa-dűlő, study area). Of these, nearly one-half are made from Mecsek radiolarite. Bakony radiolarite variants are also included in larger quantities. The source of the Mecsek radiolarite falls within a local supply zone; it is in the eastern part of the Mecsek Mountains which are 15–30 km from the site (Bácskay and Biró 1984; Barabás 1986; Biró 1988; 1989, 1990, 1998). It was not possible to determine the exact raw material source (e.g. mountain range of origin) of 52 radiolarite and 17 of flint tools, thus one general radiolarite and one general flint lithic group were defined. Plattensilex, Balkan flint, Chocolate flint, Cracow Jurassic flint, and Volhynian flint occurred infrequently and make up the more exotic raw materials. Of these non-local raw materials, Volhynian flint was the most common (Mateiciucová 2008; Binsteiner 2005; Gurova 2011; Kaczanowska 1985a, 1985b; Pelisiak 1987; Přichystal 2013) (Table 5.1).

opposite corner from which the individual was looking, with the remaining postholes P2–P4 numbered clockwise from this first location. In the body zone, the skull, the right and the left side of upper and lower body, and the leg (below the knee) regions were separated. This method is also applicable to both the rectangular and oval-shaped burials although the posthole zones are not necessary in the latter case. Using these zones, the location of the chipped stone tools was entered into a database. This method is very similar to that used to research the grave goods in Durankulan and Varna (Borić 2015, 940, Fig. 49.4.), Worms‒Rheindürkheim, Worms‒Rheingewann and Wittmar sites, as well as Peter Biehl’s “kontextuelle Merkmalanalyse,” a method to help systematically describe the position of ornamentation on the surface of anthropomorphic clay figures (Biehl 2003, Abb. 28.). RStudio software package version 3.5.0 (RStudio Team 2015), a user-friendly open source program, was used for the analysis and visualization of the data.

In total, 862 graves were excavated in the study area. To begin an analysis of the relationship between the chipped stone tools and the Late Neolithic burial traditions, it is necessary to define the exact location of chipped stone tools in relation to the body and the grave. It is then possible to determine the spaces/zones where stone tools were deposited most frequently (Figure 5.5) shows the separation of the body and grave zones as well as the subdivision of each zone. The grave zone was defined as every space within a feature recognized as a grave except the human skeleton and its immediate surroundings. In this first zone, the postholes are the most important, and were assigned the location codes P1–P4. P1 was defined as the posthole above the skull of the individual in the

Of the 862 oval-shaped burials, 276 graves or 32.02% included stone tools. The distribution of stone tools is not even, thus graves can include tools from one or sometimes multiple types of raw material (Table 2).

Distribution of raw material and technological categories of oval-shaped burials

There are nine types of lithic raw materials, which are very similar to those from the settlement assemblage. Mecsek radiolarite makes up one half of the burial stone assemblage and the second most common raw material is Bakony radiolarite. Obsidian, Chocolate flint, Volhynian flint, and Cracow Jurassic flint represented the raw material with the more distant sources. Although their relative weight in the burial assemblage is low, their absolute numbers can still be considered significant. 50

The role of chipped stone artefacts in the Late Neolithic burial practices at the site Alsónyék (Southern Hungary)

Figure 5.5. The schematic representation of the rectangular-shaped burials. Legend of zones: P1-P4 (postholes), S (skull), UBr (Upper bodyright), UBl (Upper bodyleft), LBr (Lower bodyright), LBl (Lower bodyleft), L (leg). Created by Peter Czukor.

Table 2. Quantity and percent of different raw materials in oval-shaped burials of the study area. Raw material

Quantity (pc)

Percent (%)

Mecsek radiolarite

245

48,71

Bakony radiolarite

151

30,02

Other radiolarite

43

8,55

Flint

15

2,98

Obsidian

15

2,98

Volhynian flint

15

2,98

Chocolate flint

10

1,99

Cracow Jurassic flint

4

0,80

Unidentifiable

5

0,99

503

100,00

Total

most frequent deposition area and every type of lithic raw material appeared there too (62 pc., 14.73%). The upper body (67 pc., 15.92%) and pelvic (79 pc., 18.76%) regions of the body produced almost the same quantity of tools, and in both cases, most of the finds were often placed on the left side. The raw material distribution was very similar to that of the settlement, with Mecsek and Bakony radiolarites most common. These variants of radiolarites were found in all regions of the body. Volhynian flint was most commonly deposited in the skull region. The are larger than the average blades made from different raw materials. This pattern of large Volhynian flint blades deposited near to the skull has also been seen at several other Late Neolithic cemetery sites. This phenomena is also seen in the Early Copper Age burials that contain so-called ‘super-blades’ made from Volhynian flint. The Chocolate flint is often found around the skull, upper body region and as well as lower body regions. Given the extreme size and the difficulty of producing these super-blades, they are likely to have been prestige items and are signs of social inequality (e.g. Tiszapolgár–Basatanya, Kisvárda, Deszk–B) (Bognár-Kutzián 1972, 161, Fig. XXXIII, 3–5, Fig. XXXIV, 7–9).

The largest proportion of the stone tools came from the grave fills, with no information about their exact location within the grave available (109 pc., 25.89%). Of those tools where a more specific region could be defined, most were located on or around the skull (104 pc., 24.70%). All types of raw materials were represented in these tools found in the skull region. The leg zone was the second 51

Kata Szilágyi

Figure 5.6. Raw material distribution by body regions in the case of oval-shaped burials.

Some differences in the distribution of the stone tools based on type of tool was also identifiable. The majority of blades were found in the skull region, although blades occurred in all body regions and the grave fills as well. Cores and nodules of raw material were found in both the grave fills and around all of the regions of the body, except for the skull and – apart from a single piece − pelvic area. The end-scrapers were concentrated in the pelvic region. Trapezes represented the largest number of the lithic artefacts, were also concentrated in the lower quadrants (pelvic and leg regions).

It is important to emphasize that only one-quarter of the oval-shaped burials included stone tools. This burial practice, thus, cannot be considered as a necessary part of the the burial ritual or grave’s assemblage. Two important questions arise: (1) why were stone tools placed in some graves? and (2) Is there any relationship between stone tools and people of particular identities, classes etc.? These questions may be clarified in the future research. However, it is likely that it will not be enough to look at the chipped stone tools alone. It will be necessary to also research the polished stone tools, ceramics, animal bones,

Figure 5.7. Technological categories distribution by body regions in the case of oval-shaped burials.

52

The role of chipped stone artefacts in the Late Neolithic burial practices at the site Alsónyék (Southern Hungary) bone artefacts, shell ornaments, and copper beads together with the chipped stone tools to approach these issues of possible social inequality.

In the rectangular-shaped burials, stone tools were found made of 11 types of raw materials from which 6 are nonlocal lithic materials. Mecsek radiolarite remains the most common raw material, and the second is Bakony radiolarite like in the oval-shaped burials also. The general distribution of the raw material is very similar between these two kinds of grave form, but only two differences are visible, namely the relatively high percent of limnoquartzite and Volhynian flint. It is particularly interesting that all of the limnoquartzite came from only one grave (No. 813.), moreover every piece was trapezes, with nearly the same size, morphology, without use-wear trace, and deposited very close to each other. Besides trapezes all of the lithic tools in this grave showed certain homogeneity, this special context could be a sign that these tools were created by one person, at the same time for the burial. This observation also means the biography of the lithic tools, the tools themselves and the particular tool production could be the part of the burial ritual. The relative amount of Bakony radiolarite was also high, but lower than in the case of the settlement and oval-shaped burials (Zalai-Gaál et al. 2012). All of differences are attributable to particular special burials, these are interesting from the perspective of the raw material, number of blades and trapezes. These observations doesn’t necessarily indicate that there is a significant difference between the grave forms or the common burial rite, but these burials bring attention to the importance of the biography of the lithic artefacts.

Distribution of raw material and technological categories of rectangular-shaped burials Out of the 66 rectangular-shaped burials, 35 (53.03%) graves included stone tools. Thus, chipped stone tools were much more frequently discovered here than in the oval-shaped burials. Like in the case of the oval-shaped graves, the distribution of the raw material differs between the graves (Table 3).

Table 3. Quantity and percent of different raw material in rectangular-shaped burials of the study area. Raw material

Quantity (pc)

Percent (%)

Mecsek radiolarite

50

41,32

Bakony radiolarite

26

21,49

Other radiolarite

8

6,61

Flint

3

2,48

Limnoquartzite

18

14,88

Obsidian

3

2,48

Volhynian flint

7

5,79

Chocolate flint

1

0,83

Cracow Jurassic flint

2

1,65

Balkan flint

2

1,65

Plattensilex

1

0,83

121

100,00

Total

Most of the stone tools were located in the immediate surroundings of the body, with the legs (31 pc., 31.33%) and skull (25 pc., 26.88%) regions the most common areas of deposition. The composition of raw materials is most diverse in skull region, where the local radiolarite is most common. All of the Volhynian flint artefacts were located

Figure 5.8. Raw material distribution by body regions in the case of rectangular-shaped burials.

53

Kata Szilágyi

Figure 5.9. Technological categories distribution by body regions in the case of rectangular-shaped burials.

in the region around the skulls. The other non-local raw materials, like Chocolate flint and Cracow Jurassic flint, were also found around the skull. The above-mentioned limnoquartzites were all located in the leg region of only one grave. In this grave both sides of the lower body have similar numbers of stone tools with two pieces of Balkan flint representing the only non-local raw material. Like in the oval-shaped burials in general, many of the finds deposited around the upper body were found on the right side (7.54%). Some lithic artefacts were also located in

the fill of the grave (21 pc., 22.58%). Posthole P1 had the largest number of the tools (4 pc., 4.3%) with the other postholes containing only 3 of tools in total. The proportion of the stone implements which were located in the skull and the lower body (leg) regions is extremely high. Blades were the only chipped stone tool that were placed on the skull, which can thus be assumed to represent a fairly standard object-based depositional practice within the larger more diverse mortuary practices.

Table 4. The summary table of the comparison between oval and rectangular-shaped burials. Oval-shaped burial

Similarity/ difference

Rectangular-shaped burial

Percent of the stone tools

32%

↔

53%

Number of raw materials

9

≈

11

Number of non-local raw material

4

≈

6

Number of tools types

6

=

6

Most common tool types

blades and trapezes

=

blades and trapezes

Most common body region with stone skull and leg tools

=

skull and leg

Most common body region with the most diverse raw material

skull

=

skull

Tool types found on/around the skull

blades dominate, but flakes, end-scraper on blades, borers, and trapezes occur

≈

only blade

Blades occurrence

every body region

=

every body region

Cores occurrence

grave fill, upper body, leg regions

≈

only in the upper body region

End-scrapers occurrence

every body region except in the left side of the upper body

↔

in the grave fill, the left side of the upper body and the leg regions

Tool types in the grave filling

every technological category, except end-scraper and bohrer

≈

every technological category, except the core

54

The role of chipped stone artefacts in the Late Neolithic burial practices at the site Alsónyék (Southern Hungary) Although, it should be noted that blades are also found almost anywhere in a burial, except for the left side of the upper body region and within the postholes P1. The proportion of trapezes in the lower body region is another strikingly high, but trapezes also occur in the upper body, the right side of the pelvis, the posthole P1 and the grave fills. The two cores were found on both sides of the upper body. Flakes generally were found in the lower quadrant of the body region, the P1 posthole and the grave fill. Both flake end-scrapers were found in the grave fill (the exact locations are not known). The end-scrapers on blades were located on the left side of the upper body, near the leg, and in the grave fills. The assemblage of stone tools found within the grave fills is very heterogeneous, thus every technological category was found there, other than cores. Only the posthole P3 lacked stone tools entirely.

largest grave group in fact had the smallest percentage of burials with stone tools. Contrastingly, the smallest grave group contained the highest percent of burials with stone artefacts. According to a t-test, the obtained values are not statistically significant, but they may help to understand the role of stone tools in burial practices (Table 5.5).

In summary, there is a significant difference between the number of oval and rectangular-shaped burials and their quantity of stone tools. These similarities and differences are summarized in Table 4. We can state that a larger ratio of rectangular-shaped burials contained stone artefacts and that their raw materials were diversified. Obsidian, Chocolate flint, Cracow Jurassic flint and Volhynian flint were the only non-local raw materials found in oval-shaped burials. In the rectangular graves, Plattensilex and Balkan flint also appear. In both cases, Volhynian flint artefacts are the most common stone tools made of non-local raw material. An interesting phenomenon is the lower percent of the non-local raw material, thus this kind of prestige items are not typical burial equipment at Alsónyék, but all of the non-local lithic material were blades and deposited on the skull. This indicates a special pattern which related to the burial ritual. Stone tools, as funerary equipment, were not found in every burial. The reason for this will be the task of future research. As mentioned previously, it is likely that to answer this question grave goods of all materials (not just lithic) must be examined.

Only 22 burials in grave group No. 14 contained stone artefacts. Although 68 oval-shaped burials belong to this grave group, 44 stone tools were found deposited in just 18 graves. A total of nine rectangular-shaped graves belonged to this grave group; from these, four burials contained a total of only five pieces stone tools.

By looking at the two grave groups within this selection that have the highest percentage of burials with stone tools – grave groups No. 5 and No. 14 – the difference in the distribution of lithics between oval- and rectangularshaped burials becomes clear. In grave group No. 5. nine burials contained stone artefacts out of a total of 14 burials. 25 pieces of stone tools were found within six oval-shaped burials while only 8 pieces were recovered from the two rectangular-shaped burials.

In summary, chipped stone tools were frequently deposited as grave goods, but not evenly across the different graves and grave types. This burial practice thus cannot be considered as standard. It is therefore worth considering the frequency of stone tools as elements of a specific burial practice in relation to the different grave groups. If we regard an artificially defined grave group as a closed system, only a few of the burials contain stone tools. In general, lithic grave goods were not found in a significant proportion of the oval-shaped burials. Although the number of rectangular-shaped burials with stone grave goods was similarly low, the relative number of stone tool containing graves of this form was much higher. The rectangular-shaped burials are not the only new element of the burial practice. Unlike in the preceding period (Middle Neolithic, LBK culture) or in other lithic assemblages from Lengyel sites, many trapezes were found in the burials at Alsónyék. In fact, the trapeze was the most common lithic artefact found, other than blades, across the burials. This is particularly interesting in light of the fact that there are many examples of how these trapezes fit together and form one or more whole blade.

Discussion In order to investigate the correlation between the shape of burials and quantity of stone tools as well as the possible role of those tools, we selected five grave groups of differing sizes for comparison. In these grave groups, there are notable differences in the total number of burials and the number of burials which contain stone tools. The

Table 5. Total number of burials and number of burials containing stone artefacts in the grave groups selected for comparison. Identification number of grave group

Total number of burials

Number of burials containing stone tools

Percent of burials containing stone tools

Total number of stone tools

1

105

13

12,38

28

5

14

8

64,29

33

13

37

17

15,95

61

14

77

22

28,57

52

15

42

12

28,57

25

55

Kata Szilágyi

Figure 5.10. Spatial distribution of stone tools in grave group No. 5.

Figure 5.11. Spatial distribution of stone tools in grave group No. 14.

56

The role of chipped stone artefacts in the Late Neolithic burial practices at the site Alsónyék (Southern Hungary)

Figure 5.12. Trapezes from Alsónyék−Kanizsa-dűlő.

they derive from the same reduction surface of the same blade core. In the case of the matching trapezes it could be established that their preforms were segments broken from the same original blade prior to the further retouching (Inizan et al. 1999, 82–84). In one grave, we were able to re-fit six blades made from Bakony radiolarite so that the almost complete debitage-surface of the original core was reconstructed. These blades were located near the pelvic bone of the interred individual. Although blades of nonlocal raw materials were generally located on or near the skull, blades made from the local/regional raw materials – like the blades in the grave mentioned – were found deposited in all parts of the grave. In another case, 23 pieces of trapezes were also discovered deposited near the pelvic bone of an individual; these pieces could be refitted to 8 blades, that lacked use-wear traces. Based on these examples, we posit that these artefacts, collections, and behavior frames were elements of ritual burial practice. The matching blades and trapezes could be created at the same time, maybe by one person, and the lack of the usewear trace suggest that these artefacts were prepared just for the burial. The whole stone tool making procedure could be also belonged to the burial practice.

Trapezes in the past have been thought to have been used as arrowheads see, for example, István Vörös’ 1987 article about a trapeze found embedded into the atlas vertebra of an aurochs in site Polgár–Csőszhalom (Vörös 1987, 25– 29). However, the limited macro use-wear of the trapezes found in the graves suggests that these objects may often have had a short life history prior to the deposition, as only a few of the trapezes had any traces of use, as sickle inserts. There are also numerous archaeological and cultural anthropological examples of trapezes used as sickle inserts. The lack of use-wear on a majority of the trapezes, may suggest that they were not used prior to the inclusion as grave goods, however it is also possible that they were used for a task that did lead to macroscopically observable use-wear traces. In sites of the southeastern-Transdanubian Lengyel culture, only seven trapezes have previously been identified (Bácskay 1989, 1990; Bácskay and Biró 1984). In contrast, at Alsónyék, the trapeze is the most common type of lithic tool. All in all, 219 pieces of trapezes were found, 40 pieces from the settlement’s features and 179 pieces from burials. Furthermore, many matching pieces of stone tools were identified in graves – most commonly refitting pieces of blades and trapezes. In the case of blades, we are talking about blades than can be refitted as

The significant amount of trapezes that emerged from burials define a new element of the burial practice. 57

Kata Szilágyi The majority of the trapezes were made from Mecsek and Bakony radiolarite. In the burial context, the raw material, size, and special knapping production (craftsman specialization, super blade, pressure technique) were means of establishing the value of blades. Blades and other stone tools which were placed on and around the skull may have been of particular importance. The process of trapeze production consists of breaking the blades and retouching both (broken) ends. The many actions of individuals during the period between the deceased’s biological death and social death (burial rite) encompass a series of “rites of passage” (Aspöck 2013, Abb. 2.). We can see this period as a transformation process during which the buried person and the community doing the burying change together. This transformation process is matched in the creation of trapezes – the breaking and modification (retouching) of one tool (the blade) to create a new artifact (the trapeze). Although these artefacts were made of the same raw material as many of the other lithic tools, perhaps the particular raw material had a very different connotation (Topping 2010, 32). The placement of the trapezes in the leg region, separated from the blades which were mainly placed in the skull and upper body region could also mark this difference in meaning.

always included as grave goods. From osteological analyses, it is possible to say that the frequency of different pathological alterations and dental diseases in these graves are also similar to that of the rest of the population buried in oval-shaped graves (Köhler 2012). Therefore, the archaeologically manifested socioeconomic differentiation cannot be supported by the physical anthropological characteristics and lifestyle of the members of the Alsónyék community. There seems to be no over-arching correlation between sex and deposition of stone tools. Although rectangular graves containing male individuals often had more stone artefacts than their counterparts with interred females, both women and men buried in oval-shaped graves had lithic grave goods. In general, chipped stone tools were often deposited as grave goods, but they were not distributed evenly. The inclusion of lithics in the burial assemblage thus cannot be considered standard or universal and is worth exploring in more depth, both spatially and together with other grave goods as indicators of social inequality. Acknowledgments I would like to thank the organizers Peter Bye-Jensen and Mathias Paul Bjørnevad Jensen for the opportunity to publish in the pages in this BAR Volume. I am grateful to Sarah Martini, who did the English language correction. I am indebted to Péter Czukor for the creation of maps. The writing of this article was supported by the National Talent Program (NTP-NFTÖ-16-0858: Multidisciplinary prehistoric archaeological research in the region of East Mecsek Mountain).

Conclusion As the most common raw material, the local Mecsek radiolarite can be considered the most important in the chipped stone assemblage of Alsónyék. Based on this, the network of the Alsónyék community shows a very strong orientation to southeastern Transdanubia, especially towards the East-Mecsek Mountains. The importance and differential use of different raw materials was clearly identifiable within the site assemblages; the raw materials collected from the local and regional environs was most common in the settlement stone tool assemblage and with these local raw materials used for every-day tools like flakes, blades, end-scraper on blades, and endscraper on flakes (Whittle 1995, 252; Szilágyi 2017). In contrast, tools, especially blades made of more exotic raw materials, were more common in burials where their position of deposition was more or less restricted to the skull and its surroundings. These non-local lithic tools and the different treatment of them are a clear sign of the importance that this different biography of this material held to the practitioners. As the original source of the raw material was far from Alsónyék, it is possible that the distant social networks that these objects and the material were a part of, and thus the individuals associated with these networks were important attributes of the material and tools that were inectricably liked to the treatment of it in the burial rite (Brumm 2010, 193). This phenomenon, may thus, represent a new aspect of the burial rite that slowly crystallized into a new form.

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Praehistorische

Zalai-Gaál, I., Osztás, A. 2009. “A lengyeli kultúra települése és temetője Alsónyék–Kanizsa-dűlőben. A settlement and cemetery of the Lengyel culture at Alsónyék–Kanizsa-dűlő.” In Medinától Etéig. Régészeti Tanulmányok Csalog József születésének 100. évfordulójára, edited by Bende, L. and Lőrinczy, G. 245–54. Szentes: Koszta József Múzeum.

RStudio Team 2015. RStudio: Integrated Development for R. RStudio, Inc., Boston, MA URL http://www.rstudio. com/. Serlegi, G., Rassmann, K., Osztás, A., Mischka, C., Furholt, M., Ohlrau, R., Winkelman, K., Bánffy, E. 2013. “Large surface magnetometer survey of Neolithic sites in the Kalocsa and Tolna Sárköz.” Hungarian Archaeology e-Journal (Spring): 1–7. http://www. hungarianarchaeology.hu/wpcontent/uploads/2013/05/ eng_Serlegi_13T.pdf. Szilágyi, K. 2017. “Approaching household units from chipped stone assemblages at Alsónyék–Bátaszék, south Hungary.” Bulgarian e-Journal of Archaeology Vol. 7: 61–83. Topping, P., 2010. “Neolithic axe quarries and flint mines: Towards an ethnography of prehistoric extraction.” In Ancient mines and quarries: a trans-Atlantic perspective, edited by Brewer-LaPorta, M., Burke, A. L. and Field, D, 23–32. Oxford, U.K.: Oxbow Books. http://public.eblib.com/choice/publicfullrecord. aspx?p=1165945. Vörös, I. 1987. „A bow as a weapon of hunting in the Late Neolithic.” Communicationes Archaeologicae Hungariae: 25–29. Whittle, A., 1995. “Gifts from the earth: symbolic dimensions of the use and production of Neolithic flint and stone axes.” Archaeologia Polona 33, 247–259. Zalai-Gaál, I. 2002. Die Neolithische Gräbergruppe-B1 von Mórágy–Tűzkődomb. I. Die Archäologischen Funde und Befunde. Szekszárd: Wosinski Mór Múzeum. Zalai-Gaál, I. 2009. Zur Herkunft des Schädelkults im Neolithikum des Karpatenbeckens. Budapest: Archaeolingua. Zalai-Gaál, I., Gál, E., Köhler, K., Osztás, A. 2011. “Das Steingerätedepot aus dem Häuptlingsgrab 3060 der Lengyel-Kultur von Alsónyék, Südtransdanubien.“ In Waffe, Kultgegenstand? Aktuelles aus der Neolithforschung. Beiträge der Tagung der Arbeitsgemeinschaft Werkzeuge und Waffen im Archäologischen Zentrum Hitzacker 2010, edited by Beier, H-J., Einicke, R. and Biermann, E., 65–83. Beiträge zur Ur- und Frühgeschichte Mitteleuropas 63. Varia Neolithica VII, Langenweissbach: Beier und Beran. Zalai-Gaál, I., Gál, E., Köhler, K., Osztás, A., Szilágyi, K. 2012. “Präliminarien zur Sozialarchäologie des lengyelzeitlichen Gräberfeldes von Alsónyék–

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6 Useful, beautiful or ritual? The life biography of grave goods from a Prehistoric burial ground Raluca Kogălniceanu Prehistoric communities used to send their members on their last road, accompanied by various things, from pottery and animal bones to personal adornments, and other objects such as chipped and polished stone tools, clay figurines, etc. The grave is supposed to be the final resting place for the human individual, but also the end-place for the objects accompanying the deceased. The analysis of grave goods usually focuses on typologies, quantities, whether they are gendered grave goods or not, and how they help create the identity of the deceased. More rarely, they focus on whether they were especially created for the particular event of somebody’s burial or they had been previously used. The work done on the Neolithic and Copper Age funerary contexts from Romania showed me that, in spite of the traditional view that most objects were especially created for their use as grave goods, they, in fact, had a life of their own before that. The longest chain of events in an object’s life identified so far belongs to the adornments made of Spondylus shell that underwent manufacture, long-distance trade, wear, repair or transformation (or both), wear, and deposition. Another object with a medium life biography is the stone ax/ adze/chisel, which could include medium distance trade, manufacture, use, repair, use and final deposition. On the other hand, there certainly seem to be objects with a very short biography, namely those fabricated especially for the event of the burial. One example of this type seems to be illustrated by clay vessels or figurines that are poorly manufactured, indicating that their use might have been deemed from the start to be very short-termed. The paper will review the data, focusing on the Late Neolithic Hamangia cemetery at Cernavodă – Columbia D (Contanţa County, Romania). Introduction

Roman 1959; Berciu et al. 1961). Its (re)analysis in view of publishing began a decade ago (Morintz and Kogălniceanu 2008; Kogălniceanu 2012; Mărgărit 2012; Kogălniceanu 2014; Kogălniceanu and Haită 2015; Kogălniceanu, Niţă and Haită 2017; Kogălniceanu, Simalcsik and Ştefan 2016), with some materials still waiting their turn. The archaeological complex includes several settlements and at least one cemetery with a large number of inhumation burials, containing a large number of grave goods ranging from Spondylus and marble artefacts to clay figurines, polished stone tools, silicolites, bone implements and a lot of pottery and animal bones.

Neolithic communities used to send their members, on their last road, accompanied by various things, from pottery and animal bones to personal adornments, and other objects such as flint blades, axes, clay figurines, etc. The grave is supposed to be the final resting place for the human individual, but also the end-place for the objects accompanying the deceased. The analysis of grave goods usually focuses on typologies, quantities, whether they are gendered grave goods or not and how they help create the identity of the deceased. More rarely, they focus on whether they were specially created for the particular event of somebody’s burial or they had been previously used. The work done on the Neolithic and Copper Age funerary contexts from Romania showed me that, in spite of the traditional view that most objects were specially created for their use as grave goods, they, in fact, had a life of their own before that.

Several starting questions There are several questions that need answers before we proceed. 1. When does the biography of an object begins and ends?

The site of Cernavodă

As a person’s biography might begin when his/her parents met, I would argue that the biography of an object begins when the raw material is collected in order to be transformed into the intended object, and not when the object is actually manufactured. This would allow us to integrate into their life story not only the repairs that they might have undergone but also the transformations that

The site considered here for analysis is a Late Neolithic cemetery from southeastern Romania (Dobrudja), attributed to the Hamangia culture. It was excavated at the middle of the last century, several excavation reports being published at the time (Morintz, Berciu and Diaconu 1955; Berciu and Morintz 1957; 1959; Berciu, Morintz and 61

Raluca Kogălniceanu changed them into a completely different object. Some might argue that this is not an object’s biography, but the life story of a piece of raw material. They may be right, at least in part. But once that piece of raw material was transformed into an object, it also acquired meaning. And this meaning might have been transmitted forward even through the transformation the object underwent at some point. We don’t know, but since we cannot deny it completely, we should allow it to be part of the story.

involve an intervention on the object and repair and transformation, on the other hand, involving physical intervention. 3. What measuring unit should be used for life biographies? As argued above, since events make up a biography, they should be used to measure objects’ lives. The time factor, although important, is difficult to consider in prehistoric cases, where the passing of an object from parents to children is almost impossible to prove.

Concerning the end of the object’s biography, this might not be in sight yet. One possible end is when the object was buried with the deceased (at least this is the particular situation under analysis here). Once an object was interred together with a dead person, the people for whom the biography of the object mattered ended it voluntarily. After that point, whatever happened to the object might be considered involuntary, an accident, even its discovery by archaeologists thousands of years later, its stay in a deposit of archaeological materials or its display in a museum case.

Types of life biographies Based on the analyzed materials, I could distinguish three types of biographies: long, medium and short. A. Long life biographies In this category, I included the objects with a more ‘dramatic’ biography, that underwent repair or transformation (or both) during their use, before their final deposition inside the grave.

For the purpose of this paper, I chose to concentrate on the biography of an object while it had a meaning for the people who created and manipulated (sometimes recreated) it until its final discard inside a burial ground.

B. Medium life biographies

2. How does an object gain a life biography?

This category includes everyday objects, that were used for a longer or shorter period of time, and after that they were either deposited in a grave (as the following examples will show), or discarded (if broken).

As our biography is marked by various events, small or life-changing, so the biography of an object should be defined by events. I have to note here that our capacity to identify them in case of prehistoric artefacts is limited. We can usually identify those events that affected physically the object and, maybe, altered its meaning in the process.

C. Short life biographies This category includes objects that were specially manufactured to be used as grave goods.

Changing of hands, for example, cannot be determined in most cases, and the participation of certain objects in various rituals is equally elusive to us, except, maybe, the last ritual, that of burial. Transmission through generations, as heirlooms, is also difficult to demonstrate in prehistoric contexts. What is left are those events, such as trade/exchange on one hand, that did not necessarily

Long life biographies (I): Spondylus and marble objects The longest biography I encountered belonged to Spondylus and marble objects, made of what could be called ‘exotic’ raw materials. Their life usually developed according to the following schema:

Figure 6.1. Long life biographies (I): Spondylus and marble artefacts (LDT = long distance trade).

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Figure 6.2. Spondylus artefacts’ chain of possible events: a) manufacture; b) repair; c-e) transformations (a, c, d, e – photo R. Kogălniceanu; b – after Anthony and Chi 2010, 178).

Although not all stages can be demonstrated for each object, this schema is a good hypothesis based on current knowledge (Kogălniceanu 2012; Mărgărit 2012).

beads were possibly made of broken bracelets; smaller cylindrical beads were made of larger tubular beads, and so on (Figure 6.2d-e).

Spondylus objects

This transformation is, most probably, proceeded by attempts to repair the large Spondylus object, as visible in two places on a bracelet (Figure 6.2b3). An intermediary stage during the transformation process could be illustrated by the plate (Figure 6.2c) that might come from a previously repaired bracelet, later transformed to be used as a distinct piece of adornment. This one, at its turn, after further use and damage, could be transformed even more, if necessary (Figure 6.2d4-e).

Spondylus was a rare, precious material that, most probably, was not easily available. The scientific community still discusses if local fossil Spondylus was used in certain areas (which would mean easier access to the raw material), but so far no definite conclusion has been reached. There is also no definite proof, no workshop, for the local production of the large Spondylus objects. The only reported primary workshops are in the Aegean area (Dimitrijević and Tripković 2006, 249). There is one slightly later discovery at Hârşova – Tell (Gumelniţa culture) of a small, secondary, workshop. The pieces of Spondylus found there were not new, unworked valves, but pieces of broken bracelets and beads. This led the author of the discovery to draw the conclusion that this workshop specialized in transforming broken, damaged pieces into something that could be of further use. More specifically, this discovery illustrates a workshop that specialized in transforming broken bracelets into beads (Comşa 1973, 66–67). Even though such a discovery has not yet been made for the Hamangia culture, the fact remains that there seem to be indications that once an object made of Spondylus was damaged, the pieces were not thrown away, but an attempt was made to transform them in some other piece of adornment. Larger tubular

Marble objects It was not only Spondylus objects that underwent this reshaping for further use, but also the marble ones. A possible example could be the marble anthropomorphic pendant that is believed to have come from a former bracelet due to the curved shape of its profile (Berciu 1960, fig. 9/1, 434; Berciu 1966, 104). The repaired bracelet from Figure 6.2b has been erroneously published as Spondylus bracelet coming from the Hamangia cemetery at Cernavodă or from the Hamangia cemetery at Limanu (Anthony and Chi 2010, 123, 178). In reality, it is a marble bracelet from a different Hamangia cemetery indicated at either page of the catalogue. In spite of this shortcoming, and due to the parallelism between Spondylus and marble adornments in the Hamangia culture, the piece illustrates a possible intermediary step valid for Spondylus objects also, even if not illustrated so far at Cernavodă. 4 The first bead on the upper row is made of marble. 3

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Figure 6.3. Transformation of a marble bracelet into an idol-pendant (a – photo R. Kogălniceanu, b – after Berciu 1960, fig. 9.1).

Long life biographies (II): polished stone tools

In some cases, the reshaping of the active part of the tools could be noticed, most probably performed with the intent of re-using the tool (Figure 6.5).

Another type of object that had quite a long life (although, apparently, not as dramatic as the Spondylus or marble artefacts) was polished stone tools made of magmatic or volcanic rocks, implying medium distance trade of either finite tool or, most probably, of the raw material that was later worked on-site or in some neighboring community (Kogălniceanu and Haită 2015).

Another clue suggesting that at least some of the tools have been used prior to their deposition in the grave could be the angle of the blade. The blade is usually more or less symmetrically curved, and in very few cases one would say the blade is straight. At many pieces from Cernavodă, the blade has an oblique direction, creating a frontal view asymmetry that is also reflected in a difference between the two profiles of the tool (one more symmetrical in a transversal plane than the other) (Figure 6.6). This also seems to suggest the overuse or breakage of one side of the tool, followed by re-polishing of that side in order to continue the use of the tool.

Their life biography follows, sometimes, schema illustrated in Figure 6.4. It was often stated in the description of Cernavodă axes that they looked unused and that, most probably, they were made especially for being put in the grave (Berciu 1966, 62). The macroscopic re-analysis of the artefacts showed a slightly different picture.

Figure 6.4. Long life biographies (II): polished stone tools (MDT = medium distance trade).

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Useful, beautiful or ritual? The life biography of grave goods from a Prehistoric burial ground to the ascribed functionality of the tool based on the shape of the artifact, i.e. oblique traces for the axes and perpendicular traces for the adzes (Figure 6.8). In addition to these, chips were recorded on approximately half of the tools. The most relevant type of chips are the very small and fine ones along the sharp part of the blade, suggesting damage done to the tool during its use, and less likely during the manufacturing of the tool or due to other post-depositional processes (Figure 6.9). Animal bone tool Use-wear traces were also identified on the distal end of a bone pointed tool/needle to be, made on a diaphysis of a large-sized mammal (Figure 6.10). Although this artefact was not found in a grave, it can be assumed it had been part of one prior to the disturbance of the area, since it was recovered from the cemetery.

Figure 6.5. Polished stone tool: reshaping of the active part (photo R. Kogălniceanu).

Medium life biographies (various objects) A series of items used as grave goods by the Hamangia people (and not only), even if in smaller numbers, are other everyday implements, such as stone axes or chisels, animal bone implements, chipped silicolite tools, and even pottery. This could include even Spondylus and marble objects, which had clearly been used but have not undergone repair or transformation. This category includes, practically, every object that was used for current activities or worn before being deposited.

Silicolite chipped tool Many silicolite blades present fractures and irregular flaking of the long edges, indicating they were used prior to their deposition inside graves. Some of them even suggested two consecutive, different uses, indicated by the overlapping of the previously mentioned stigmata by gloss marks probably due to prolonged contact with vegetable silica and/or organic (leather) bindings, used in hafting (Figure 6.11) (Kogălniceanu, Niţă and Haită 2017).

The life biographies follow, in their case, the schema illustrated in Figure 6.7.

Pottery

Polished stone tools

Although the material from the cemetery is still being processed and analyzed, and pottery is still waiting its turn, I did, however, notice, during sorting and repacking, that, quite often, holes had been drilled through the vessels similar to those performed in cases of repairs. It can be at least assumed that the vessels the fragments came from

Typical use-wear traces, oblique and perpendicular to the blade (see Comşa 1972, figures 4 and 6), were observed on several tools from Cernavodă (Kogălniceanu and Haită 2015). It is interesting that, on the few pieces where it could be noticed, the pattern of use wear traces corresponded

Figure 6.6. Polished stone tool: asymmetrical blade line due to use and repair (photo R. Kogălniceanu).

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Figure 6.7. Medium life biographies: various artefacts (LDT/MDT/SDT = long, medium or short distance trade).

Figure 6.9. Polished stone tool: chippings on the blade (photo R. Kogălniceanu).

out, such as pottery or figurines (more generally, clay objects) that were poorly burned, suggesting that they were manufactured in a manner that was improper for their daily use. Their life biography can be summarized in the schema illustrated in Figure 6.12. Figure 6.8. Polished stone tool: use-wear traces near the blade (photo R. Kogălniceanu).

Most likely, these objects did not involve any trade and were manufactured locally, the moment of manufacture being also linked to the funerals, given the unusable nature of these objects.

had been used repeatedly prior to their employment in whatever rituals were performed in the cemetery.

From Cernavodă, we have only a couple of figurines, like the one in Figure 6.13, that would disintegrate even during the cleaning process, suggesting a hasty manufacture of the items for a purpose that did not imply extensive use.

Short life biographies (various objects) It is more difficult to distinguish unused objects in the absence of chemical analyses, but some of them stand 66

Useful, beautiful or ritual? The life biography of grave goods from a Prehistoric burial ground An overview It is obvious that, equal to the persons buried in the cemetery, the objects accompanying them on the last voyage had a life, a biography. In the rare cases in which the objects were brand new at the moment of deposition inside the grave, the impression is that they were so because there was no alternative. The poorly burned figurine is not the only one from the cemetery. There are many others that were well burned, meant to last, to be used … Maybe the one presented here was fabricated hastily because the deceased was supposed to have one and none was available, so one had to be made on the spot. Does repair and adaptive reuse signify poverty? Or remoteness from markets? Or sentimental and symbolic value? These are some of the question asked by researchers (Dalglish and Tarlow 2012, 76–79). Figure 6.10. Bone tool: use-wear traces near the tip (photos R. Kogălniceanu and M. Mărgărit).

It can be noticed, from the presented examples, that the objects with the most eventful life in terms of their physical alteration are those made of ‘exotic’ raw materials, such as the Spondylus and marble ones. The more ‘exotic’ the material – the more ‘eventful’ the life. The amount of repair and alteration decreases hand in hand with the increase of access to the materials used. Repair and transformation were so far met only at objects that implied a long or medium distance trade. The longer the distance, the more repairs or transformations. Why did some items undergo so many changes while others so little? Because they were beautiful? Because they were useful? Because they were ritual? If we look around us, at our own objects, we may notice some of the same biographies as those presented here. Today, most of the repairing or transformation is done either because an object is beautiful or because it is of use to us. But we must not forget that, sometimes, we repair or keep a piece of something not because its beauty or usefulness, but because it is a gift from someone dear or a

Figure 6.11. Retouched proximal blade: use wear-traces (adapted from Kogălniceanu, Niţă and Haită 2017, fig. 9).

Figure 6.12. Short life biographies: various artefacts.

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Figure 6.13. Clay figurine burned poorly (photo R. Kogălniceanu).

precious memory. And I would subscribe this reason to the ritual, emotional sphere.

But I would say that, most probably, and more often, the life biography of artefacts is mixed, passing through both profane and ritual spheres. As I said earlier, our capacity to identify specific events or spheres of use of prehistoric artefacts is limited. Unless the episodes left some physical marks on the objects, only the context of discovery can indicate the final event, which in the case of objects employed as grave goods is ritual. But it does not give us an overall image of a life that could have been eventful in both profane and ritual aspects.

The objects from the Hamangia cemetery at Cernavodă seem to have been repaired and transformed because the material they were made of was more or less irreplaceable, it had an intrinsic value. Whether personal emotions or collective significance was also attached to the respective objects it is impossible to say. They are not ancestor artefacts (according to the definition formulated by Caple 2010, 305) since, for example, Spondylus bracelets such as those encountered here are among the earliest known in the area (Séfériadès 2010). As Caple (2010, 308) said, “repairs can be made to any broken artefact in order to maintain its functionality and should not be considered veneration”.

I would conclude by saying, based on the presented examples and other similar cases not presented here, that the life biography of an object is more eventful, more dramatic if the raw material is more exotic and allows for interventions. In the end, profane or ritual, the practical side seems to play the tune. Acknowledgements

They may be heirlooms, but we cannot prove it. The community does not seem to be a chiefdom, so even if they were heirlooms, they did not have attached any transmissible rank symbolism and did not represent links to a collective ancestral past (Lillios 1999), but more an attachment to personal ancestors.

I must first give thanks to Oana Damian and Roxana Dobrescu for facilitating our access to the archive and at the deposits of the Institute of Archaeology in Bucharest. I also thank my colleagues, Valentin Dumitraşcu and Monica Mărgărit for the analysis of the animal bones tool and the permission to use yet unpublished data.

I cannot honestly consider any discussion from the angle of commodities versus gifts and the related implications (see Appadurai 1986; Gosden and Marshall 1999) since, at least in this particular case, the archaeological information alone does not allow it unless as pure speculation.

References Appadurai, A. (ed.) 1986. The social life of things. Commodities in cultural perspective. Cambridge University Press.

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Anthony, D.W. and Chi, J.Y. (eds.) 2010. The Lost World of Old Europe. The Danube Valley, 5000–3500 BC. New York, Princeton, Oxford, The Institute for the Study of the Ancient World, Princeton University Press.

The life biography of objects, generally speaking, could be either completely profane (when we consider various everyday tools, for example, that we discover inside a settlement), or completely ritual (as is the case of objects with short life biographies included in this paper). 68

Useful, beautiful or ritual? The life biography of grave goods from a Prehistoric burial ground Berciu, D. 1960. Deux chefs-d’œuvre de l’art néolithique en Roumanie : le « couple » de la civilisation de Hamangia. Dacia N.S. 4, 423–441.

Universitatis Apulensis. Series Historica 18/II, 47–60. Cluj, Mega. Kogălniceanu, R. and Haită, C. 2015. Polished stone tools as grave goods in the Hamangia Cemetery from Cernavodă – Columbia D. Typological and contextual analysis. In R. Kogălniceanu, R.-G. Curcă, M. Gligor and S. Stratton (eds.), Homines, Funera, Astra 2. Life beyond death in ancient times (Romanian case studies). Proceedings of the International Symposium on Funerary Anthropology, 23–26 September 2012, “1 Decembrie 1918” University (Alba Iulia, Romania), 43–66. Oxford, BAR Publishing.

Berciu, D. 1966. Cultura Hamangia. Noi contribuţii. I. Bucureşti, Editura Academiei RSR. Berciu, D. and Morintz, S. 1957. Şantierul arheologic Cernavoda (reg. Constanţa, r. Medgidia). Materiale şi Cercetări Arheologice 3, 83–92. Berciu, D. and Morintz, S. 1959. Săpăturile de la Cernavoda (reg. Constanţa, r. Medgidia). Materiale şi Cercetări Arheologice 5, 99–106. Berciu, D., Morintz, S. and Roman, P. 1959. Săpăturile de la Cernavoda (reg. Constanţa, r. Medgidia). Materiale şi Cercetări Arheologice 6, 95–105.

Kogălniceanu, R. Niţă, L. and Haită, C. 2017. Nonpolished lithic artefacts from the Hamangia cemetery at Cernavodă – Columbia D. Technological, typological and contextual analysis. Materiale şi Cercetări Arheologice 13, 155–170.

Berciu, D., Morintz, S., Ionescu, M. and Roman, P. 1961. Şantierul arheologic Cernavoda. Materiale şi Cercetări Arheologice 7, 49–55.

Kogălniceanu, R., Simalcsik, A. and Ştefan, C.E. 2016. The dead among the living in the Hamangia culture. In F. Gogâltan and S.-C. Ailincăi (eds.), Settlements of Life and Death. Studies from Prehistory to Middle Ages. Proceedings of an International Colloquium Tulcea 25th-28th of May, 27–50. Cluj-Napoca, Mega.

Caple, C. 2010. Ancestor artefacts – ancestor materials. Oxford Journal of Archaeology 29(3), 305–318. Comşa, E. 1972. Date despre uneltele de piatră şlefuită din epoca neolitică şi din epoca bronzului de pe teritoriul României (Istoricul problemei, tipuri – funcţionalitate). Studii şi Cercetări de Istorie Veche 23(2), 245–262.

Lillios, K.T. 1999. Objects of Memory: The Ethnography and Archaeology of Heirlooms. Journal of Archaeological Method and Theory 6(3), 235–262.

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Mărgărit, M. 2012. Shell adornments from the Hamangia cemetery excavated at Cernavodă – Columbia D. Techno-typological analysis. In R. Kogălniceanu, R.G. Curcă, M. Gligor and S. Stratton (eds.), Homines, Funera, Astra. Proceedings of the International Symposium on Funerary Anthropology, 5–8 June 2011, “1 Decembrie 1918” University (Alba Iulia, Romania), 97–106. Oxford, BAR Publishing International Series 2410.

Dalglish, C. and Tarlow, S. (eds.) 2012. Modern Scotland: Archaeology, the Modern past and the Modern present. ScARF Summary Modern Panel Document, September 2012 (http://www.scottishheritagehub. com/sites/default/files/u12/ScARF%20Modern%20 September%202012.pdf). Dimitrijević, V. and Tripković, B. 2006. Spondylus and Glycymeris bracelets: trade reflections at Neolithic Vinča-Belo Brdo. Documenta Praehistorica 33, 237– 251.

Morintz, S., Berciu, D. and Diaconu, P. 1955. Şantierul arheologic Cernavoda. Studii şi Cercetări de Istorie Veche 6(1–2), 151–163.

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Kogălniceanu, R. 2012. Adornments from the Hamangia cemetery excavated at Cernavodă – Columbia D. Contextual analysis. In R. Kogălniceanu, R.-G. Curcă, M. Gligor, S. Stratton (eds.), Homines, Funera, Astra. Proceedings of the International Symposium on Funerary Anthropology, 5–8 June 2011, “1 Decembrie 1918” University (Alba Iulia, Romania), 81–96. Oxford, BAR Publishing International Series 2410.

Séfériadès, M.L. 2010. Spondylus and Long-Distance Trade in Prehistoric Europe. In D.W. Anthony and J.Y. Chi (eds.), The Lost World of Old Europe. The Danube Valley, 5000–3500 BC, 179–190. New York – Princeton – Oxford, The Institute for the Study of the Ancient World, Princeton University Press.

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7 Practical and symbolic aspects of the life cycle of arrowheads in Central Europe, 2,400–1,800 BC. Ludmila Kaňáková Despite the decreasing importance of the lithic industry at the end of Eneolithic and beginning of the Bronze Age, a highly attractive morphotype – lithic arrowheads – played an important role in symbolic communication in Central European societies. The occurrence of lithic arrowheads preceded the full manifestation of a social class of warrior/power elites, defined within vertical social stratification with their characteristic metal militaria – swords, shields, spears, or armour. Lithic arrowheads were deposited exclusively in male graves, although other warrior equipment, such as wrist guards, copper daggers, and battle-axes, sometimes appeared in wealthy female graves as well. Arrowheads have been traditionally interpreted as a typical attribute of warriors because the alimentary importance of hunting was minimal in this époque. Although projectiles of this period have been mostly interpreted from a symbolic perspective, our results testify to a long practical life of the majority of analysed arrowheads, despite the fact that the deposition of arrowheads in graves is undoubtedly symbolic.

Introduction

of wrist guards (Fokkens, Achterkamp and Kuijpers 2008; Turek 2015), and the low percentage of diagnostic impact fractures of arrowhead tips (Sosna 2012, 327). All these arguments provide only indirect information. Our research focused on collecting direct proofs of practical use based on high-powered use-wear analysis, ballistics, and expert analysis of projectiles as pieces of the lithic industry. We present evidence of a long and complex practical life cycle for Nitra Culture projectiles, which extends our knowledge of their social and symbolic roles.

Our research focused on projectiles of the turbulent era between the Stone Age and the Bronze Age, a time of dynamic social processes, establishment of warrior elites, and social stratification in Central Europe (Figure 7.1). It is the key period of social stratification; nevertheless, stratification processes proceeded unevenly in different cultures (Hårde 2006; Sosna 2009). Projectiles were deposited exclusively in male graves, mainly in graves of the Bell Beaker Culture and Nitra Culture in the study area. They were also frequent in graves of the Corded Ware Culture (except for in Moravia). Projectiles were present, but generally infrequent, in graves of the Proto-Únětice Culture and the Únětice Culture (Figure 7.2). Graves with arrowheads are usually rich in weaponry or specific equipment and adornments (Vandkilde 2006). Males are usually referred to as warriors; and war was an important element of life (Sarauw 2007). We still understand little of the manner of war and conflict. Hårde (2006) pointed out a significant difference in violent impacts between male and female skeletons in the Nitra Culture population. Sládek (2007) noticed low trauma and low impact of archery activities on skeletons of the Bell Beaker Culture.

Methods Our data acquisition process was based on use wear, 3D documentation, ballistic analysis, and expert analysis of lithics. All projectiles were documented before and after cleaning, which was necessary in almost all cases. Cleaning included the removal of sinter, ink, and varnish, as well as neutralisation. Use-wear analysis was done with the help of a reflected light microscope with 200× magnification (high power analysis). This analysis mainly focused on identification of hafting wear and transport wear caused by transport in a quiver or by deposition in a belt pocket. Documentation and inspection of fractures (including tip fractures) and preservation of glue micro-residues on surfaces were also involved. Photogrammetric 3D documentation was intended for analysis of ballistic properties of projectiles. About 100 photos from all angles were taken for each analysed projectile, every final mesh was decimated to 600,000 faces. The models processed were manually reoriented in x-, y-, and z-axes, and section line positions were determined very precisely for all projectiles. All measurements were done semi-automatically.

The interpretation of projectiles usually focuses mostly on their symbolic role in male representation (Nicolas and Guéret 2014; Petřík et al. 2018). This is likely due to their rare presence in burial grounds and settlements (Bátora 1986; Matějíčková 2009), the low percentage of male graves that include arrowheads (Bátora 2000), the low frequency of more than a single specimen and low frequency of so-called archery sets (Peška 2013, 192), the rare evidence of shooting injuries on skeletons (Drozdová et al. 2012; Peška 2009, 191), the questionable functionality 71

Ludmila Kaňáková

Figure 7.1. Map of study area.

Figure 7.2. Chronological position of cultures with grave deposition of arrowheads in Central Europe.

Expert analysis identified raw materials, including its post-depositional alterations, knapping technique, semi-products, blank-axis orientation, retouch type and functional designing, fractures, and repairs. Ballistic analysis was focused both on external ballistics (the flight part of the trajectory), and terminal ballistics (the contact and penetration part of the trajectory). Designs supporting rotation, such as cross-section asymmetries, barb deviations, and screw-forming orientation of blank and retouch, was especially key for both.5 Wounding

capability appraisal was based on the total cross-section area (TCSA) measurement, which was calculated from 3D data. Penetration trajectory and depth were predetermined by rotation frequency, even in a situation in which we could not add information on the draw-weight and construction of bows to the analysis. Serration of projectile edges was examined for its relation to the difficulty of removal. Analysis of the life cycle of projectiles The reconstruction of the life cycle of projectiles was based on analysis of 267 projectiles from five cemeteries of the Nitra Culture, both in Moravia and in Slovakia (Figure 7.3). Arrowheads represented more than 95 % of the chipped stone industry in Nitra Culture graves, and were only found in male graves.

Rotation is the key archery parameter. It leads to flight stability and correction of side-to-side arrow vibration. Rotation is necessary for exact pointed shooting, for penetration force and dynamics, and for easy passing of the projectile between ribs and other bones. It also is an important wounding parameter and parameter for difficulty of removal. Rotation direction and frequency are the key factors in archery and they have a different impact. Low frequency leads to longer flight, but lower contact force; whereas high frequency leads to shorter flight and stronger contact. Right rotation was chosen for exact pointing support, and left rotation for flight distance and penetration force support. 5

The life cycle starts at a raw material outcrop. The raw material spectrum of arrowheads is dominated by 72

Practical and symbolic aspects of the life cycle of arrowheads in Central Europe, 2,400–1,800 BC.

Figure 7.3. Settlement territory of the Nitra Culture. Hatched area marks sources of radiolarite, grey area delimits the original territory of the first phase of the Nitra Culture, and dots represent cemeteries of the Nitra Culture. Red dots mark cemeteries involved in the analysis.

radiolarite and erratic flint, with local differences (Figure 7.4). Radiolarite is predominant in the southeast part of the settlement territory, and erratic flint is most common in the northwest, especially in the Holešov cemetery, where other raw materials of northern origin, such as Jurassic Krakow flint, occur. Radiolarite is the local raw material in the southeast part of the Nitra Culture territory (Southwest Slovakia), and erratic flint is local raw material in the northwest part of the settlement territory (East Moravia). Other raw materials, such as

limnosilicite, Jurassic Krakow flint, and exceptionally obsidian, occupy a secondary position. Local or regional raw materials, suitable for press techniques, plain retouch, and tiny retouch designing, were preferred. Raw material preferences indicate the functional priority, the low impact of traditions, aesthetics, or exclusivity, and the minimal presence of imported raw materials. Blanks for projectile production were chosen for their morphology, and for rotation asymmetry potential.

Figure 7.4. Raw material spectrums of cemeteries from different regions: Holešov in the northwest, Hroznová Lhota in the middle, and Mýtna Nová Ves in the southeast, nearest to radiolarite sources.

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Ludmila Kaňáková

Figure 7.5. Typical blank of Nitra Culture projectile production. Holešov cemetery, Grave no. 218.

a slightly different surface than the retouched parts, which may have been caused by a different flaking technique, or by a transport pause between blank production and retouching.

Generally, there were a low number of lithics other than arrowheads.6 We can conclude that wide flakes with a plain platform, detached from short unidirectional cores, were preferred (Figure 7.5). Blank orientation includes both coincidence of the blank axis and the future arrow axis, and opposition or angle, as we can see on the ventral side of arrowheads in cases where the retouch is only circumferential. Blank orientation with a bulb on the tip creates a compact and heavy tip, mostly with a rectangular cross section; and a mass centre ahead. A bulb on the side of an arrowhead creates undulations in cross section – a screw shape that is important for rapid rotation. Blanks were chosen for their morphological features concerning the position of mass centre and the rotation potential. This trend of using blanks with lateral orientation and curved cross section can mostly be observed with radiolarite arrowheads. This type of design, which strongly supports rotation, is present in all the cemeteries studied. Nevertheless, it is too early to say whether it is a proof of craft production or a consequence of development in the settlement territory, because the original heart of the territory of the Nitra Culture was located close to sources of radiolarite. Residues of the ventral face of blanks show

The production of projectiles is documented by semiproducts. They were also deposited in graves, but not very often (Figure 7.6). This leads to the conclusion that projectiles probably were not products of craft production and distribution, but were made by the warriors themselves. This conclusion evokes several questions: did males mostly process the siliceous raw materials, and what part of the operational chain of projectiles did warriors carry out themselves? The retouch was functional, and the plain retouch was generally most suitable for designing the ballistic properties (Figure 7.7). Significantly, the dorsal face was modified by a full plain retouch (77 %) more frequently than the ventral face (47 %), whose contour was naturally rounded. Retouch started by abrupt contouring where the basal concavity was also cut-off, then the contour was flattened alternately (one edge dorsally, the other ventrally) and cross-section asymmetry was designed or supported. The barbs were then retouched

Figure 7.6. Semi-products. Mýtna Nová Ves cemetery, Grave no. 177. No information is available about cores, debris, and secondary products in settlements, due to their poor archaeological visibility or the state of research.

6

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Practical and symbolic aspects of the life cycle of arrowheads in Central Europe, 2,400–1,800 BC. by transport in a leather quiver with tips turned down, because the rounding is limited to only the small area of tips. The contacted material was undoubtedly leather (Figure 7.9), the wear is smooth and without striations. Another kind of transport wear was identified in the middle part of mostly large arrowheads. Small areas of bright flat wear on both faces caused by some harder material (Figure 7.10) appear to indicate wear by other shafts in a quiver as a result of step vibrations. Since the quiver was tied at the top, these wear marks may have been caused by running, which produces harder and stronger vibrations. Regarding our excavation data, quivers were probably carried on the

Figure 7.7. Combinations of applied retouch: BP – bifacial plane; DP, VC – dorsal plane and ventral circumferential; BC – bifacial circumferential; DP, VPP – dorsal plane and ventral partial plane; others – other combinations of these types.

with a tiny softening of ridge contours followed at the end. Precise ballistic designs played a crucial role. The projectile’s purpose was functional, not representative, although the aesthetic attractiveness of projectiles is beyond doubt (Figure 7.8). The range of projectile sizes was exceptionally wide, which will be analysed later in the text. The results of use-wear analysis confirmed that projectiles were hafted, transported, and then used practically for shooting. The majority of arrowheads present soft rounding only on tips, which we determined was caused

Figure 7.9. Use wear of leather contact on projectile tips. Mýtná Nová Ves cemetery, Grave no. 59.

Figure 7.8. Typical ballistic features of Nitra Culture projectiles: screw-shape in cross section, deviations of barbs, crosssection asymmetries, and longitudinal profile curve. Hroznová Lhota cemetery, Grave no. 36.

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Ludmila Kaňáková the Nitra Culture included features causing and supporting rotation, including: front-view asymmetry (75 %), simple cross-section asymmetry (54 %), alternate cross-section asymmetry (14 %), or non-random deviation of barbs (24 %). Nitra Culture projectiles clearly demonstrate designs for rapid rotation achieved by sophisticated asymmetries of the front view, cross sections, and barbs (Figure 7.12). All these treatments indicated they were war projectiles, and most were very lethal. Ballistics of analysed projectiles indicates arrowheads with quick rotation, flight stability, and accuracy; mass centre on the tip; very abrupt contact; deep penetration due to rotation; frequent serration; and serious wounding capability. An inevitable consequence of using the arrowheads for shooting was usually a fracture. Whether functional or accidental, the fracture could either be repaired (Azevedo, Charlin and González-José 2014), or the projectile was discarded. Nitra Culture projectiles present some features that show they were repaired frequently. We observed projectiles with fresh tips and heavily worn bases, and with clear boundaries between fresh and used surfaces. Several projectiles abandoned directly in the rejuvenation process were also identified (Figure 7.13). Although the length of projectiles varies widely, their width does not.

Figure 7.10. Use wear of hard contact on projectile middle parts. Mýtná Nová Ves cemetery, Grave no. 59.

Figure 7.11. Use wear of hafting on the basal third of projectiles and on barbs. Mýtná Nová Ves cemetery, Grave no. 114.

back, and not suspended on the belt, which proves the mobility of their owners. Finally, a third type of wear was identified. The basal third and the barbs of the main part of the projectiles exhibited rounding of edge elevations and clearly developed parallel striations caused by hafting (Figure 7.11). Figure 7.13. Projectile abandoned during reparation process. Fracture is newly retouched on dorsal face of basal fragment. Mýtná Nová Ves, Grave no. 305.

Ballistic analysis indicated a highly practical use of projectiles. In general, ballistic designs of projectiles of

Figure 7.12. Projectile cross-section variability.

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Practical and symbolic aspects of the life cycle of arrowheads in Central Europe, 2,400–1,800 BC.

Figure 7.14. Comparison of projectile length and base-width variance.

by different sizes of hunted game (Bátora 2000, 329) is problematic. If we suppose that the hunter usually used the same bow, i.e. bow of fixed dimensions, it is indeed not easy to shoot arrows of such different weights. The weight of the examined projectiles varied between 0.2 and 3.93 g. This is most likely not the result of targeted production, but the state of preservation after a different number of tip fractures. Smaller weights of repaired projectiles could be compensated by adding mass on the shaft near the arrowhead, and the smaller size of some projectiles could be an indicator of numerous repairs (Figure 7.15). Maybe the hypothesis of culturally determined size or shape (Peška 2009, 191–198) should be discussed again.

Tip fractures were easy to repair through a new retouch sequence on edges, which decreased the length but maintained the base width (Figure 7.14). Functional properties of projectiles include weight, width, and TSCA, not just the size or length themselves. Of course, if an arrowhead is repaired, its weight will decrease; nevertheless, weight could easily be added to the shaft. Width (important for hafting) and TSCA (important for wounding capability) remain unchanged. The wide range of projectile sizes could be seen as a practical result of cyclic repairing of tip fractures. The former hypothesis of different sizes of projectiles induced

Figure 7.15. Model of the cyclic reparation process. Based on projectile from Mýtná Nová Ves cemetery, Grave no. 262.

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Ludmila Kaňáková Since only 15 % of projectiles from Nitra Culture graves exhibit tip fracture, it likely is not evidence of any less practical use; it could be proof that the warriors cared for their weapons to keep them ready for use.

information on burial ritual, possibly addition of some rapidly degrading organic substance. Specific chemistry developing in the grave after the burial was limited to the space inside the grave because not all the projectiles were affected. May chemical degradation have only occurred for arrowheads that were found really close to the body, or for those inside the body tissue? We only found one arrowhead that was found sticking in a bone (Mýtna Nová Ves, Grave no. 325), but that arrowhead was heavily altered chemically.

The depositional part of the life cycle of projectiles is important for understanding their social and symbolic role. We cannot compare projectiles from cemeteries with those from settlements, which remain archaeologically invisible, and we can take into consideration only a small portion of all the arrowheads produced. We have to suppose that the archaeological view of the situation is not objective, because funerary context includes symbolic aspects that are manifested in the selection of grave goods. We usually miss any carefully excavated and documented cemeteries, although accurate photographs or drawings of the location, position, axis and context of projectiles is key to their interpretation and improved reconstruction of symbolic aspects of their deposition, ownership, and use.

Conclusion Recent interpretations of arrowheads of the Bell Beaker Culture have proposed they were mostly symbolic, not practically used objects (Sosna 2012; Nicolas and Guéret 2014). In contrast, the Nitra Culture projectiles show a complex practical life cycle.7 The projectiles were produced from local raw materials with a firm conception of their practical function. The arrowheads were probably produced and repaired directly by their owners or users, and were retouched with clear ballistic effects of rapid rotation, hard contact, deep penetration, and serious wounding. The arrowheads were hafted and transported in a back quiver for pedestrian mobility, perhaps crosscountry running. The arrowheads were shot, suffered tip fractures, and were repaired.

Generally, it seems that the majority of projectiles were located behind the back or pelvis. Deposition of a quiver set in the same axis with tips turned down towards the feet has been documented several times (Ondráček and Šebela 1985, 22, Figure 43; Kaňáková, Nosek and Šmerda 2016, 173, Figure 4B). Quivers were evidently carried on the back, which is typical of pedestrian mobility. Some of the arrowheads were located in the front of skeletons, usually near the belt or lap, whereas others were found very close to the skeleton – on the thorax, near the femurs or close to the skull. The former ones may have been deposited in a belt pouch for many reasons. We should keep in mind that some of the arrowheads could have been randomly deposited in graves, not as a part of grave goods, but as a violent element in wounds in the body tissue (Marquez et al. 2014) with no effect on the bone.

Social aspects of arrowhead deposition could be reflected in the archaeological data. Arrowheads were deposited in male graves only, and the number of graves with projectiles was low (Mýtna Nová Ves 9.1 %, Holešov 13.1 %, Hroznová Lhota 5.2 %, Slatinice 4.5 %, Jelšovce 3.7 %), i.e. a maximum of 10–20 % of adult males were buried with projectiles. Graves with arrowheads usually contained other symbols of masculine representation (Peška 2009, 185), such as copper daggers, other types of weapons, boar tusks, and other trophy elements (e.g., bear teeth). The graves that contained a higher number of arrowheads were specially designed with unique construction, a burial chamber, and rich grave goods. Males with arrowheads were adults, mostly between 30 and 40 years of age. Analysis showed they suffered many contact-fight injuries during their lives (Harde 2006, 364–370). Their groups were probably small, mobile, disciplined, elite, and lethal.

If we say that the incidence of shooting impact on skeletons is low (Drozdová et al. 2012; Jakab 1999), this is not evidence of low interpersonal or intercommunity conflict, especially in case of such a poor preservation of skeletons, as we have observed in Nitra Culture cemeteries (Stloukal 1985). The number of arrowheads in graves is undoubtedly symbolic. The largest sets are rare and they were found in exceptionally furnished graves. There were usually 1–3 projectiles; deposition of more than three appears to have been reserved for special cases. Of course, this does not represent the complete archery set or the full equipment of an archer. In contrast, we have a large amount of evidence of practical combat shooting. Therefore, the number of projectiles seems to be a social indicator in masculine warrior brotherhoods.

The practical and symbolic roles of arrowheads are inseparable – the first is determined by the second and vice versa. We can identify a cyclic operational sequence with several reparations of tip fracture, practical ergonomicballistic features, hafting and transport use-wear, and systematic care for the functional condition of projectiles. This kind of manipulation is not solely practical. Weapon reparation, sharpening, inspecting, etc. typically plays an important role in warriors’ ritualised inner-community

Some important archaeological information is perhaps hidden in the post-depositional alteration of arrowhead surfaces. The poor preservation of skeletons in Nitra Culture graves might be tied to the chemical degradation of some projectiles (23 %), especially for the radiolarite projectiles that show clear alteration of the entire surface. This state of preservation perhaps reveals some

7 Projectiles carried in belt pouches without a shaft likely served a purely symbolic role. In this case, use-wear distribution could be different, with leather contact on the whole surface, not only on tips. Arrowheads could be observed without striations on the base, and without examples of a fresh tip and used base on the same item.

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Practical and symbolic aspects of the life cycle of arrowheads in Central Europe, 2,400–1,800 BC. behaviour. Warrior grave goods were accompanied by trophy artefacts in graves, and we suppose that the deep symbolism of trophy game hunting was closely tied with ritualised fraternisation for members of male warrior brotherhoods. Trophy chases were not alimental: we have representation of a warrior elite presented in art from approximately 4,000 BC. Archery involves a very complex set of activities, both physical, and psychical, with deep social impact. Archery of this period seems to have been an elite war activity, not a common settlement activity. It included a certain level of mythology, dedication, initiation, and know-how.

a tool for identification of projectiles that were not part of the burial goods, but were deposited inside bodies. Ballistic properties of projectiles have to be tested and the supposed consequences have to be verified. We will use 3D copies - epoxy casts, because accurate copying of particular ballistic designs is important and is impossible to copy perfectly by knapping. We will compare several ballistic types in rotation frequency, penetration depth, wounding capability, and the impact of different weights of projectiles. Only those measurements that do not reflect parameters of bow and shafts will be considered relevant. Acknowledgements

The implementation of long-distance weapons in war activities is a strong catalyst of social stratification (Vanpool and O’Brien 2013). War elements were strongly present in the period under review. We are of course not able to summarize the lethality or mortality caused by arrows because there are only a few examples of projectiles stuck in excavated human bones; nevertheless, the human body also has vulnerable soft tissues and arteries. We should note that not all cases of impacting projectiles are mortal, either in bone or soft tissue. And vice versa we should note that not all mortal projectile impacts show visible traces in excavated anthropological data.

The research presented in this article was supported by a grant from the Faculty of Arts, Masaryk University, MUNI/21/KAN/2016: Functional and use-wear analysis of prehistoric stone projectiles. Special thanks go to Vojtěch Nosek for 3D data acquisition and calculations, and to Jozef Bátora and Jaromír Šmerda for providing the results from their excavations. References Azevedo, Soledad de, Judith Charlin and Rolando González-José, R. 2014: Identifying design and reduction effects on lithic projectile point shapes. Journal of Archaeological Science 41, 297–307.

Although the efficiency of long-distance fighting during this time-period is questionable, as we cannot measure mortality from these projectiles, the efficiency of this innovation would nevertheless manifest in other ways. Deep self-control, discipline, and calm are required for successful archery. This would create a new type of warrior. Small disciplined groups of impressive warriors – mobile, rapid, and potentially lethal, could be the catalyst for the installation of a local chief, a tool of land control and power representation. There is no evidence of widespread, long-term warfare reflected by anthropological analysis of skeletons. However, the impact of a rapid well-organised band of warriors could have effectively solved conflicts over land, metal sources, or transit points. These rapid and lethal groups were able to arouse fear and respect in agrarian people without widespread physical conflicts impacting the main part of the population. However, this type of warfare is not easy to identify solely through skeletal analysis. The warfare of this period would be presented as a ritualised social process of gaining new land, maintaining the agrarian workforce, and control of sources and transit points.

Bátora, Jozef 1986: Výskum pohrebiska zo staršej doby bronzovej v Jelšovciach. Archeologické rozhledy 38, 263–274. Bátora, Jozef 2000: Das Gräberfeld von Jelšovce/Slowakei. Ein Beitrag zur Frühbronzezeit im nordwestlichen Karpatenbecken, Band 1, 2. Kiel: Verlag Oetker/Voges. Drozdová, Eva et al. 2012: Výsledky antropologické analýzy pohřebiště z Hoštic I. In: A. Matějíčková – P. Dvořák (eds.): Pohřebiště z období zvoncovitých pohárů na trase dálnice D1 Vyškov – Mořice. Pravěk – Supplementum 24/1, Brno: Ústav archeologické památkové péče, 471–513. Fokkens, Harry, Yvonne Achterkamp and Maikel Kuijpers 2008: Bracers or Bracelets? About the Functionality and Meaning of Bell Beaker Wrist-guards. Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society 74, 109–140. Hårde, Andreas 2006: Funerary Rituals and Warfare in the Early Bronze Age Nitra Culture of Slovakia and Moravia. In: O. Ton – H. Thrane – H. Vandkilde eds., Warfare and Society: Archaeological and Social Anthropological Perspectives, Aarhus: Aarhus University Press, 341–382.

In future research, experimental verification of key results is especially important. We will continue our research with ballistic, use-wear and deposition experiments. Future experiments will test the transport causes of identified use-wears, both the contact of leather quiver with tips, and impacts of shafts caused by cross-country running with the quiver tied on the back. We will carry on this experiment with recently knapped radiolarite arrowheads. Radiolarite items will also be used in a burial experiment, with the aim of reaching the same surface alterations through different conditions of burial deposition. We need

Jakab, Július 1999: Anthropologische Analyse der Gräber mit Totenhäusern des frühbronzezeitlichen Gräberfeldes in Mýtna Nová Ves. Praehistorische Zeitschrift, 74, 58–67. Kaňáková, Ludmila, Vojtěch Nosek and Jaromír Šmerda, J. 2016: Analýza kamenných projektilů z pohřebiště 79

Ludmila Kaňáková starší doby bronzové Hroznová Lhota. Traseologie a balistika. Archeologické rozhledy Vol. 68, Issue 4, 163–201.

Stloukal, Milan 1985. Antropologický rozbor koster z pohřebiště v Holešově. Studie Muzea Kroměřížska ‘85, Kroměříž: Muzeum Kroměřížska, 131–69.

Marquez, Belen, Juan F. Gibaja, Jesus E. Gonzalez, Juan. J. Ibaňez and Antoni Palomo 2008: Projectile points as signs of violence in collective burials during the 4th and 3rd millennia cal. BC in the North-East of the Iberian Peninsula. In: L. Longo – N. Skakun eds., Prehistoric Technology. 40 Years Later: Functional Analysis and the Russian Legacy. Proceedings of the International Congress Verona (Italy) 20–23 April 2005.International Series 1783, Oxford: BAR Publishing, 321–326.

Turek, Jan 2015, Bell Beaker stone wrist-guards as symbolic male ornament. The significance of ceremonial warfare. In: Prieto Martínez, M. P. – Salanova, L. (eds.): The Bell beaker transition in Europe: mobility and local evolution during the 3rd millennium BC. Oxford: Oxbow Books, 28–40. Vandkilde, Helle 2006: Warriors and Warrior Institutions in Copper Age Europe. In: Ton, O. – Thrane, H. – Vandkilde, H. (eds.): Warfare and Society: Archaeological and Social Anthropological Perspectives. Aarhus: Aarhus University Press, 393–422.

Matějíčková, Andrea 2009: Lithic chipped industry from the cemetery of the Bell Beaker culture in Hoštice – Heroltice, Vyškov district. In: Kopacz – Přichystal – Šebela 2009: Lithic Chipped Industry of the Bell Beaker Culture in Moravia. Kraków – Brno: Polska Akademia Umiejętności. 275–298.

Vanpool, Todd L. and – Michael J. O’Brien 2013: Sociopolitical Complexity and the Bow and Arrow in the American Southwest. Evolutionary Anthropology 22, 111–117.

Nicolas, Clément and Colas Guéret, C. 2014: Armorican arrowhead biographies: production and function of an Early Bronze Age prestige good from Brittany (France). Journal of Lithic Studies vol. 1, no. 2, 101–128. Ondráček, Jaromír and LubomírŠebela 1985: Pohřebiště nitranské skupiny v Holešově (katalog nálezů). Studie Muzea Kroměřížska ‘85, Kroměříž: Muzeum Kroměřížska, 2–130. Peška, Jaroslav 2009: Protoúnětické pohřebiště z Pavlova. Olomouc: Archeologické centrum Olomouc. Peška, Jaroslav 2013: Morava na konci eneolitu. Olomouc: Akademické nakladatelsví CERM. Petřík, Jan, Daniel Sosna, Lubomír Prokeš, Denis Štefanisko and Patrik Galeta 2018: Shape matters: assessing regional variation of Bell Beaker projectile points in Central Europe using geometric morphometrics. Archaeological and Anthropological Sciences 10/4, 893–904. Sarauw, Torben 2007: Male symbols or warrior identities? The ‘archery burials’ of the Danish Bell Beaker Culture. Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 26, 65–87. Sládek, Vladimír, Margit Berner, Daniel Sosna and Robert Sailer 2007: Human Manipulative Behaviour in the Central European Late Eneolithic and Early Bronze Age: Humeral Bilateral Asymmetry. American Journal of Physical Anthropology 133, 669–681. Sosna, Daniel 2009: Social Differentiation in the Late Copper Age and the Early Bronze Age in South Moravia (Czech Republic). International Series 1994. BAR Publishing, Oxford. Sosna, Daniel 2012: Stone Arrowheads from Hoštice I: Use-wear Analysis. In: A. Matějíčková – P. Dvořák (eds.), Pohřebiště z období zvoncovitých pohárů na trase dálnice D1 Vyškov – Mořice. Pravěk – Supplementum 24/1, Brno: Ústav archeologické památkové péče, 323– 338. 80

8 From the living to the dead: Lithics as a part of grave goods of the TRB culture in Denmark Marzena Cendrowska Understanding artefacts found in ritual context is, without doubt, a challenging task. Various theoretical approaches have been constructed and used by researchers to approach this elusive part of lives of past societies. Ritual can be seen, among others, as a part of subsistence strategies, social strategy, as method of control or resemblance of a belief. In the first part of this paper some of the major approaches to ritual and symbolic meaning of lithic artefacts will be presented. To fulfil this goal, a case study of lithics used in Early Neolithic Funnel Beaker Culture burial rituals from Jutland was used. Artefact analyses were divided in two major parts. First, the technology of production and the possible traces of use found on flakes, blades and tools were discussed. The second part consisted of statistical analysis of lithic artefact type variation and their potential relation to other grave goods. The results are then compared to the ones obtained from material from TRB settlements. This leads to a general discussion about the interpretation of role and meaning of flint in the burial context. Three main interpretations of artefacts from funerary contexts were taken into consideration. Various artefacts could be interpreted either as a part of the grave goods set (accessories for further use in afterlife), the belongings of the deceased (which could signify their status or occupation during life) or traces of ritual knapping or other activities during the burial ceremony. Flint in ritual – the symbolic meaning of lithics

Approaches to ritual

Flint accompanied the people of the Funnel Beaker culture (TRB) throughout many episodes in their lives. It was used to make simple, small tools on one end of the complexity continuum, and impressive, long, polished axes on the other. Without doubt, lithics played an important role in everyday subsistence strategies and household activities. Besides the mundane, they are frequently found in the ritual context of enclosures, bog offerings and burials.

Studies of mortuary practices usually focus on one of several trends in interpretation of the burial customs. Depending on the personal interest of the researchers or the kind of questions asked, the data obtained could be used to answer questions about the deceased, but also to gain general information about the construction of the society. Various theoretical approaches put several aspects of the mortuary practices in focus. I agree with notion expressed among others by Renfrew (1994, 49) that the ceremonial scene is shaped not only by belief and supernatural sphere of life but is inevitably connected to the social reality of given culture. Depending on the personal interest of the researchers they tend to focus more on one of the aspects of the mortuary practices. Visible variability in burial practices was attributed to operation of cultural-evolutionary processes (Binford 1971, 19–25), context of political, economic and social relations within the given society or expression of mythology and belief (Chapman 2003, 308–310).

Although primarily used to construct typologies and recreate subsistence techniques of given societies, stone tools could also provide information about the social identity or ritual in the past. Flint preserves better than other artefact types and thus can retain more data about its life history. Traces of use provide evidence on crafts and techniques, but sometimes also much more surprising observations. Their analysis allows the researchers to create a link between the technological choices and the histories of different artefacts (Van Gijn 1998, 329). Recently, interesting traces were discovered by P.C. van Woerdekom on lithics from Duch megalithic graves. Even though the results are still preliminary, they suggest that those artefacts were scratched with pointed pieces of flint. This suggest a completely different, non-utilitarian approach to flint assemblages in the ritual context (van Woerdekom 2011, 44–45).

Thoughtful insight and attempt to understand reality of prehistoric burial was presented by A. Joyce. She stresses the importance of the ritual experience, which cannot be directly recovered from the archaeological material. Emotions felt by the closest family, smells, sounds or visual aspects of the mortuary practice could have played a fundamental role in the process of interring and 81

Marzena Cendrowska Symbolic meaning of artefacts

memorizing the dead. Mortuary rites were the moment when the closest of kin inscribed the deceased into social memory and created the web of social relations and meaning (Joyce 2001, 11–12).

Interpretation of ritual or symbolic meaning could be different not only for the researcher but also could have been for the people taking active part in the ceremony. H. Withouse distinguished different types of knowledge associated with ritual actions. The potential for interpretation depends on the viewpoint of the individual worshiper, shaped by limitations of their semantic memory and cognitive resources (Whitehouse 2004, 96, 103).

In my view, burial ritual could be seen as a complex mixture of environmental adaptation, social relations, ideology and power strategies, status and role of the deceased in the society and belief shared by those who conducted the ritual (Figure 8.1). The symbolic meaning of ritual could be built by special placement or treatment of the body, complicated construction of the grave and elaborate sets of grave goods. On the other hand, ritual scenery and meaning could be created by the use of special colours, music or sounds, choreography or structure of the ritual activity. When looking at the variation between individual practices we may be able to grasp small clues about that most elusive part of the ritual.

To understand the symbolic meaning of a given object we need not only consider the iconic representation of a symbol, its colour, texture or form but also to include its broader context. It is thus important to consider how the artefacts were incorporated into experiences of the societies (Robb 1998, 335–338). The object’s appearance could be used as the most indirect evidence of its symbolic

Figure. 8.1 Symbolic meaning of artefacts based on the relation between various aspects of the burial ritual and social structure.

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From the living to the dead meaning. The variation in form, technique or decoration could have been easily noticed by the participants of the event and served to create basic ritual imagery. The context of use, the scenery, the relation to other artefacts or symbols construct a more elaborate and complicated scene. Clustering of the images or their sequential occurrence could create an additional meaning of the symbol (Whitehouse 2004, 115). For a person trying to understand past rituals, the social connotations and associations of the artefact and its meaning in the cultural process are surely the most difficult aspects to grasp. This kind of meaning could be expressed by use of unique materials or technique that required highly specialized skills and knowledge. More often, the significance of the artefact would involve a combination of various semantics, codes, circumstances and social relations (Robb 1998, 341–342).

heating, or because the noticeable change in its colour and texture (Larsson 2000, 607–609). Similar observation was made by A. Pannett. She suggested that burning flint would enrich visual and auditory experience of those in the closest vicinity. She also notes that the small shreds of hot and sharp flint that fly from a fire could add thrill and excitement to the process. Combined with the acoustic experience of shattering flint it could be considered as a primitive firework display (Pannett 2012, 251–54). Intentional destruction of lithic material could be also explained in terms of ‘ritual killing’, as it was the case with axes or pottery. By burning, the object is transformed and excluded from the everyday sphere of life (A. L. van Gijn 2010, 171–72). Finally, flint obviously played an important part in the everyday life of Neolithic societies. It provided an essential basis for some of the most necessary tools. The meaning attached to them could change and go in and out of focus depending on the context. In some cases, the lithics could serve not only as a technology of acquisition but also as a means of social classification (Edmonds 1995, 17). As noted by M. Edmonds:

It is important to note that not only symbolic meaning of ritual is shaped by social and economic context, but also that the everyday life of given society can be influenced by the ritualized activities. Ethnographic sources present us with various examples of society without any clear distinctions between the ritualized and everyday life. Ghosts of the ancestors, spiritual beings or witches are perceived by them as being as factual as every other aspect of reality (e.g. Evans-Pritchard 1963, 19–55).

“...stone working may have held a metaphoric significance which was integral to the manner in which certain sites or rituals were understood. It is possible that tools and flakes were deposited as gifts of provision for the ancestral community, and these acts may have provided a medium through which links between the ancestors and the living could be expressed. In other cases, the deposition of tools and waste may have been undertaken to celebrate the skills or roles of the deceased, to draw links between stone working and particular categories of person, or to mark the completion of specific ceremonies.” (1995, 38–39)

An object can change its meaning depending on the context in which it is perceived. Artefacts could be used to shape or orchestrate the everyday life of the societies (Bradley 1998, 53). Finally, object in ritual context could be used to manifest position and role of the deceased in their societies. It could symbolise their ideas and beliefs, but it also could have played an active role during the ceremony. This association between the artefacts and the ritual activities can add more layers of symbolic meaning and result in developing a new perspective on an object or tool used in everyday life.

Sites and artefacts Two main types of graves were included in the analysis. Due to the goal of this research, which included looking into the meaning of lithics in the course of burial, I have decided to exclude megalithic graves which were frequently re-entered and reorganised. I focused on burials from middle and northern Jutland (Figure 8.2), where similarity of development among local groups was observed during the existence of the TRB culture. Simple inhumation graves, sometimes with basic wooden or stone construction were constructed in the early Neolithic. The second grave type were inhumations under long or round mounds. Graves without any structures besides wooden or stone surroundings were included. Most of the information about the construction and dating of the burials comes from excavation documentation; whenever possible, it was supplemented with published data.

Lithics, especially arrowheads and blades, were already present in Mesolithic burials, although the majority of the grave goods in that period were mostly organic material artefacts. There is a perceptible shift in the composition of the grave goods in the Neolithic. Much greater emphasis was placed on stone artefacts (Bradley 1998, 22–30; Tilley 2003, 33–34). Large quantities of flint tools, flakes and blades and production waste are frequently found in megalithic graves. Similar trend in use of lithics in the ritual context is also visible at the enclosed sites (Andersen 1997, 1:296–300; Midgley 2008, 134–43). Various numbers of flint artefacts, ranging from one placed carefully among other grave goods, to a large amount scattered in the grave were also discovered in numerous inhumation graves belonging to the TRB culture.

Technological analysis – the birth of the artefacts

Another aspect of flint in the burial ceremony is evidenced by layers of burnt flint covering the mounds or found inside the megalithic graves and, in smaller quantities, in inhumation graves. It was suggested by L. Larsson that burnt flint could be important due to the crackling sound accompanying its

In total, 154 artefacts from 15 graves were analysed. Flakes and blades formed the biggest group, constituting 40% of the total number. Tools were second in terms of 83

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Figure 8.2. The sites analysed in this study. Circle-earth graves, triangles – under a mound. 1. Bukkær, 2. Aarslev, 3. Vroue Bjerg, 4. Thorsø, 5. Sejlflod, 6. Skivum, 7. Fastrup, 8. Vroue Hede VI, 9. Øster Teglgård, 10. E. Storgård IV, 11. Rustrup, 12. Hejring 13. Løvenholt, 14. Tohøj 30 and 31.

frequency, with 48 artefacts making up 31% of material. Forty three (28%) pieces of debris were registered. Finally, only two cores from one grave were analysed. In most of the cases, the lithic artefacts were rather well preserved – almost 75% of blanks and tools were intact (Figure 8.3).

step and hinge terminations on the flaking surfaces and no traces of platform preparation suggest a rather opportunistic knapping strategy (Andrefsky 1998, 25–30).

All (12) the burnt flakes come from the mound grave in E. Storgård IV. No burnt tools were deposited in the analysed graves. Most of the deposited debris were burnt (81,4%). It was found in 4 graves, 3 of which were under mounds; the remaining piece was from a simple inhumation grave.

Flakes comprise a vast majority (87%) of all blanks. Blades were much less frequent: in total only 8 were found. Five of these were deposited in Early Neolithic earth graves: Aarslev, Vroue Bjerg and Bukkær (2 blades in two latter burials). The highest amount of flakes, 20 pieces, was also discovered in Bukkær. In the remaining graves, between 1 and 5 flakes were placed.

Debitage

Despite the high quantity of flakes and blades, only two cores were discovered in the analysed burials, again in E. Storgård IV. Both were based on broken polished axes. In one of them, the original axe was almost intact; in case of the other only a small part of the blade remained. The latter was made of Danian flint (see Figure 8.5d). This is especially interesting, since none of the blanks or tools in this grave were made of this raw material.

Some differences in preparation and technological features of the deposited flakes and blades can be noticed (Table 1), although the small number of blades makes the data somewhat difficult to interpret. The amount of cortex, number of ridges and scar directions on the dorsal side suggest that most of deposited blanks were obtained from roughly prepared but already used unidirectional cores.

The cores were rather expedient, showing only few removal scars. Their characteristics imply that the majority of the blanks were irregular flakes and small blades, obtained by means of direct, hard hammer percussion. Furthermore,

Features of the ventral sides of the blanks suggest the possibility of two different knapping techniques being used. Four blanks were more regular in shape and bore 84

From the living to the dead

Figure 8.3. Preservation of analysed material. Comparison between blanks (n=66) and tools (n=46).

all but one were made from blades or their fragments. In total, 8 different tool types were distinguished, based on the kind and location of the retouch (Figure 8.4). Trapezoidal arrowheads were the most numerous type, although their number is significantly inflated by a set of 15 from one grave in Vroue Bjerg. Denticulates (7 artefacts in 5 graves) and retouched blades (5 artefacts in 5 graves) were the most frequent tool types.

traces of core preparation. The ventral sides of those artefacts had small or medium bulbs and delicate ripple marks. Small Herzian cones were visible in two cases, while no bulbar scars were noted. Such characteristics suggest that these artefacts could have been obtained using indirect percussion technique (Andrefsky 1998, 160–67; Cotterell and Kamminga 1992, 130–47). The predominant part of the debitage was more irregular, with more cortex and little if any traces of core preparation. It is thus valid to assume that these were mostly obtained by freehand direct percussion. Only in one case very deep and dense ripple marks, prominent Herzian cone, crushing on both sides of the artefact and the lack of bulb suggest that this artefact was knapped with hard hammer on an anvil.

When compared to blanks, the tools reveal a higher degree of preparation and carefulness in production (Table 8.1). Only two retouched blades and one arrowhead had fully natural dorsal side. In one of these, one of the edges was used as a natural back. Tools reveal more regularity in shape when compared to debitage. This tendency, along with the number of dorsal ridges suggests that the blanks selected for tools were produced more carefully, implying perhaps more experienced knappers. Often obtained blades had a

Tools Tools comprise the second biggest group in this analysis. They were found in 13 out of 15 graves. Out of 42 artefacts,

ventral side

dorsal side

Table 8.1. Characteristics of analysed artefacts. Main differences between artefact types. flakes

blades

tools

shape

high variability in shape, 28% highly irregular

either parallel or narrowing at the distal end

rather regular, parallel or narrowing at the distal end

preparation

29% with trimmed edges, only one artefact traces of trimming and faceting 63% with trimmed edges and with faceted butt visible on 4 more regular blades 46% with faceted butts

cortex

40% with less than 50% of cortex; 34% without cortex; 18% entirely cortical

73% without cortex

67% without cortex

scar direction

61% unidirectional; 11% oblique; 11% multidirectional

75% unidirectional

64% unidirectional, 19% bidirectional

nr of ridges

24% without ridges, but mostly from 1 to 3 mostly 1 or 2

40% with 2 ridges

bulb

53% large

varying in size

69% small

ripple marks

48% strong and highly visible

more delicate

68% delicate

scar and visible on around 50% Hertzian cone

appeared rarely

bulbar scar on 33%, Herzian cone on 50%

lip

not registered

on 20% of artefacts

very rarely

85

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Figure 8.4. Frequency of tool types (n=42).

trapezoidal cross-section, which was a preferable shape for tool production (Andrefsky 1998, 167–69).

pieces from the Aarslev grave is very interesting. Similarly to the three tools discussed above, it showed traces of use such as edge rounding and weak polish concentrated mostly on the un-retouched edge. Further use traces were also visible on the back of the knife (Figure 8.5e). Interestingly, two other tools of this type found in the same grave had retouch on the opposite edge. It is thus possible to suggest that, even though coming from the same burial, two of these tools were made for right-handed people, whereas one was intended for a left-handed person.

Another difference between tools and blanks deposited in burials is the degree of striking platform preparation. Traces of edge trimming and shaping of striking platform can be connected with corresponding attributes found on the ventral side of the tools. Rather small bulbs and delicate ripple marks were the most frequent characteristics. Considering all the features discussed above, it can be said that approximately 75% of blade tools were made using indirect percussion.

Another interesting artefact comes from the grave in Aarslev as well – a truncation made of a long, regular blade (Figure 8.5a). Small, irregular scars were visible on both its ends. Use-wear analysis revealed traces resulting from the use of that artefact as a strike-a-light. Moreover, the rounding of both its edges, along with the striations and polish visible on its entire surface suggest that it could have been hafted (Rots 2010, 183–184).

Use wear analysis – the life of the artefacts In total, 30 blanks and 15 tools were selected for use wear analysis. It was important for me to analyse not only artefacts with traces of use visible to the naked eye, such as crushes and striations on the edges, but to include less obvious examples as well. The amount of artefacts was limited by the possibility of borrowing them from different museums. Artefacts that were intensely patinated, burnt or damaged in any other way were excluded from the analysis.

Traces of plant working were visible on the surface of the denticulate found under the mound in Fastrup. Weak plant polish was concentrated alongside the right edge of the artefact, opposite to the retouch. On the retouched blade from Rustrup organic matter residue was observed. It can be interpreted as either some kind of burnt material glued to the artefact before the deposition, or as a result of decomposition of organic matter afterwards.

Only post-depositional traces, such as surface polish and strong striations were visible on all of the examined blanks. Such results allow to infer that most of the blanks were unused when deposited in the graves. This observation is supported by the fact that most of the blanks’ edges were still very sharp and fresh, with no rounding visible.

Lithics in graves – the burial of the artefacts

From 15 tools selected for the analysis, 3 had to be excluded due to intense post-depositional polish which obscured any other traces. Only crushing and rounding of the edges suggest that these tools were used for some kind of work.

Various trends in types of artefacts, their placement and number depending on the grave type can be noted. On average, 9 artefacts were found in earth graves and 12 in inhumations under mounds. Number of lithics in earth graves varies significantly, from 1 to 33, with a median of 6 artefacts. Variation in quantity of lithics is even bigger for mound graves: from 3 to 50 artefacts, with the mean of 5 artefacts per grave. There appears to be no general rule

Three of the analysed blade tools – one denticulate and two blade knives – revealed very weak polish alongside the edges opposite to the retouched ones. One of three backed 86

From the living to the dead

Figure 8.5. Artefacts deposited in graves. A) Truncation from Aarslev; b) and c) transverse arrowheads from Bukkær; d) axe utilised as a core from E. Storgård; e) backed piece from Aarslev (drawn by M. Cendrowska.

Artefacts found scattered in the graves were smaller and less regular. Most of them were flakes ca. 50 mm long.

regarding the quantity of artefacts deposited in one grave. A tendency to deposit various artefacts in different places within a grave was observed as well.

Discussion

Based on that, the lithics can be divided into two general groups. Most of the blade tools (retouched blades, backed pieces, truncations and denticulates) were placed either with other grave goods or as one concentration in a separate part of the grave. Debris and flakes, on the other hand, were mostly found in irregular concentrations, scattered within the graves or in pits surrounding the burial. It is possible to suggest that the circumstances or even the reason for deposition was different for this groups of lithics. It is also important to note that if we include only artefacts placed among other grave goods, their number gets significantly lower and more standardised. Two earth graves in Vroue Bjerg and Aarslev were an exception: there, both wellmade tools and less regular blanks were placed in carefully arranged concentrations.

Technological analysis of blanks and tools deposited in different types of graves revealed several interesting trends. First, it can be noted that flint tools manufacture with varying levels of carefulness and precision were usually deposited in the graves separately. The regular artefacts, such as blades and blade tools were more frequently found among other grave goods or in selected parts of the graves. The less regular lithics were more often scattered, maybe as a result of them being thrown inside the grave during the burial ceremony. Additionally, two techniques of production were discerned. The regular artefacts were mostly obtained using indirect percussion from unidirectional cores. The amount of cortex on such finds suggest they came from cores that had been already exploited for some before their removal. The less regular blanks were manufactured using direct percussion with a hard hammer. In their case, the higher amount of cortex suggest that those artefacts came from the early stages of core reduction (Cotterell and Kamminga 1992, 130–47).

There are also differences in the dimensions of lithics deposited in different ways (Figure 8.4). Artefacts placed in selected parts of graves, most of them rather regular blades, are thinner. Besides that, the longest artefacts, above 100 mm, were carefully deposited. The widest flake found among other grave goods in Aarslev bore some characteristics similar to flakes obtained during axe production, which probably lead to its special treatment.

Use wear analysis seems to confirm such distinction. Interesting traces were revealed on several artefacts only. On most of these only very weak, generic polish was 87

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Figure 8.6. Measurements of tools and blanks placed in different parts of graves (n=42).

visible. Polish formed by undetermined plant matter was visible on one of the tools. The truncation from Aarslev was a very interesting find: its surface showed not only traces of use as a strike-a-light, but also some evidence of hafting (Rots 2010, 75–76, 183–84).

certain tool types. Artefacts such as denticulates and backed pieces were quite frequent in both cases. Higher quantities of trapezoidal arrowheads in the Early Neolithic graves find their reflection in the percentage of these tools at the settlements (Eriksen 1984, 35; Liversage 1980, 134, 136, fig. 35 and 35). Surprisingly, retouched blades were more frequently deposited in graves than in settlement refuse. An opposite tendency can be observed for scrapers. These were found in high quantities at settlements, especially in the Middle Neolithic (Eriksen 1984, 37; Liversage 1980, 138–40; Liversage and Singh 1985, 70–71; Madsen and Jensen 1982, 72–73). On the other hand, scraper was found in one grave only. Several types of artefact which were not deposited in graves appeared in settlement tool sets. At Early Neolithic sites, small quantities of awls, drills, burins and notched pieces were registered (Madsen and Jensen 1982, 73). Since the Middle Neolithic the percentage of notched pieces and burins gets higher and, additionally, some borers appear (Liversage 1980, 140, fig. 36 and 37).

Does burial reflect everyday life? – comparison with settlements Flint tools accompanied the TRB culture people in their everyday life. They were used to obtain food by means of cereals harvesting or hunting, to make clothes or manufacture other tools from wood. Flint artefacts found are frequently and in high quantities within settlements from this period, although the production of tools was probably undertaken in separate workshops. Considering all this, it seems important to compare how well does the composition of flint artefacts deposited in burials reflect tools sets used by the members of TRB groups in their everyday activities. To do so, data about lithics from 5 different settlements was gathered. Small , Early Neolithic settlements in Lindebjerg (Liversage 1980, 92–98, 116, 132–42) and Mosegården (Madsen and Jensen 1982, 63–76; Madsen and Petersen 1984, 61–132) were discovered under younger mounds. Three biggest sites: Penbjerg (Liversage and Singh 1985, 70–72, 74), Lyø (Christensen et al. 1978, 74–98) and Fannerup I (Eriksen 1984, 9–76) date to the Middle Neolithic period. Differences both in size and in occupation time caused disproportions in the amount of lithic artefacts found. Higher quantities were recorded for MN settlements.

There are significant similarities in technology used for the manufacture of artefacts from settlements and those deposited in graves. Very high quantities of rather irregular blanks were found in all latter. The proportion of unused flakes to blades is even higher than in case of grave goods. Blades comprised only ca. 4% of blanks found at the settlements. It is important to note that the proportion of tools made from regular blanks is much higher in case of graves. Technological traces show the lithics from settlement contexts also reveal two ways of production. Most of the blanks used for tools were rather irregular and thick, obtained either from uni- or multidirectional cores by

The biggest and most noticeable difference between settlements and burials is the presence and quantity of 88

From the living to the dead direct percussion. A smaller amount was based on regular blades similar to the ones known from burials, removed from unidirectional cores by indirect percussion. Most of the tools made using this technique were denticulates and retouched blades. Arrowhead blanks were probably also made this way (Christensen et al. 1978, 98; Eriksen 1984, 35; Madsen and Jensen 1982, 72–73).

graves goods seems to point to the conclusion that such tools were intended to symbolise the individual personae of the deceased and their role within the society. The relation between everyday use and deposition in graves can be very visible for tools on which use-wear traces were detected. All such artefact types were found in the settlements as well, although their frequency was lower than in case of burials. Polish found on the artefacts suggests different activities for which those tools were used, for example wood or plant working (Madsen and Jensen 1982, 72–73). There are several possible explanations for the deposition of these artefacts within graves. Some of them were not placed among other grave goods, but scattered around the burial with blanks. This fact, and the similarity to settlement tools could indicate that those artefacts were used by one of the members of the group and placed in the grave afterwards. Maybe, they could be interpreted as some kind of personal gift or an offering for the deceased. Some tool types were found both in graves and settlements of the same period. The grave from Vroue Bjerg, where a set of 15 arrowheads was found, could serve as the best example. They were all deposited in a carefully arranged concentration. Perhaps, they originally were a set of arrows signifying the occupation of the buried person, or maybe prepared to be used by them in the afterlife.

Conclusions The analyses conducted during this study revealed two different ways of production of blanks and tools deposited in burial context. Some artefacts, mostly waste found in higher quantities in one of the graves, were obtained by direct percussion from rather irregular cores. These artefacts could have been obtained in ad hoc manner and their production did not require the knapper to possess a high amount of skill. The fact that such forms are more frequently than others found scattered within the burial provides an additional hint that they should not be seen as a part of the grave goods. An alternative and more satisfying interpretation can be proposed instead. As mentioned before, high quantities of debitage and burnt flint are known from other ritual contexts, mainly enclosures and the surroundings of megalithic tombs (Andersen 1997, 1:267–80; A. van Gijn 2014, 695–96). Maybe, roughly prepared cores were reduced during burial ceremony and some of the obtained blanks were afterwards thrown into the grave. This idea could be supported by the fact that it was possible to obtain small refitting series of blanks for two burials. On the other hand, none of the flakes or blades found within the burial at E. Storgård IV came from any of the 2 polished axes used as cores.

Another mystery is created not by the depositions, but by their lack. Some of the tool types frequently found at the settlements such as drills, borers and burins (Figure 6.2) (Liversage 1980, 138–40; Madsen and Jensen 1982, 73) were completely absent from burials. This situation could be explained in several different ways. First of all, these tools were more frequently than other types made from very irregular fragments and chunks. It makes them less visually appealing than, for instance, arrowheads or regular blades. Moreover, all these tools relate directly to the everyday activities, such as food preparation and craft. Maybe such work was for some reason considered as less dignified and therefore was not reflected in the grave goods sets. It seems that tools connected either with hunting or harvesting of cereals were the most preferred type of lithics.

Thus, it seems plausible to claim that knapping could have been an integral part of the ceremonies conducted at these sites. There could have been many reasons for that. The characteristic sound of hammer-stones hitting the cores and the flakes detaching could have been one. Some of the obtained blanks were then used in another parts of ritual. Besides that, interesting auditory effects accompany the heating of flint, along with a very noticeable change in its colour and texture while burning (Larsson 2000, 607– 609). Finally, the destruction of the cores could have been a part of ‘ritual killing’, as was the case with other artefact categories, such as axes and pottery. This process would have led to the exclusion of objects from the mundane sphere and breaking their ties with the previous owners (A. L. van Gijn 2010, 171–72).

The three backed pieces found in the Aarslev grave present a very interesting case. The general shape of these artefacts and the retouch distribution suggest that two of them could have been intended for a right-handed person, whereas one would have been much more easily handled by a left-handed one. Thus, it seems that these artefacts could not have been the personal belongings of the buried person. Instead, they could have been be given to him by members of his kin during the ceremony. A comparison with artefacts from settlements revealed that some of tool types frequently found at the habitation sites are absent from the funerary context. The reference of particular types of artefacts related with communal activities could serve as another example of importance of group identity in the ritual. Harvesting of cereals or kindling fire would have been a shared experience, crucial for the survival of

A different interpretation can be put forward for the regular blades and tools. These artefacts were manufactured much more carefully, using more advanced techniques. Blanks were obtained mostly by indirect percussion of fully prepared, unidirectional cores . The number and location of this artefacts within the graves seems to indicate that they were intended as a part of grave goods. Use-wear analysis revealed that some of them could have been used prior to the deposition in the grave. Such results combined with the generally noticeable variability in composition of 89

Marzena Cendrowska the group; therefore it could have been also represented in burial ritual.

Eriksen, Palle. 1984. ‘Det Neolitiske Bopladskompleks Ved Fannerup’. Kuml : Årbog for Jysk Arkæologisk Selskab, 9–76.

Therefore, it can be said that the symbolic significance of lithics in burial ritual could be seen as a combination of various semantic meanings, circumstances and social relations (Robb 1998, 341–42). What seems to be crucial here is the need to interpret them in a broader context of other grave goods, treatment of the body and spatial organisation of the burial. Additionally, the environmental adaptation and social organisation patterns of the society have to be included as factors shaping the composition of grave goods and the course of the ritual. In this sense, the lithics convey information about the individuals and the society they were parts of. They can be seen as a reflection of particular personae of the deceased. They could have indicated the status or the occupation they held during their lives. At the same time, they could have served as a material remnant of the position of the deceased within the society with its wide array of everyday activities and social relationships. Last but not least, the lithics could have played an important role in setting the stage for the funerary ritual and regulating its course.

Evans-Pritchard, Edward Evan. 1963. Witchcraft, Oracles and Magic among the Azande. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Gijn, Annelou van. 1998. ‘Craft Activities in the Dutch Neolithic: A Lithic Viewpoint’. In Understanding the Neolithic of North-Western Europe, edited by M. R. Edmonds and Colin Richards, 328–50. Glasgow: Cruithne Press. http://ls-tlss.ucl.ac.uk/course-materials/ ARCLG113_44840.pdf. ———. 2010. Flint in Focus: Lithic Biographies in the Neolithic and Bronze Age. Leiden: Sidestone Press. ———. 2014. ‘The Materiality of Funnelbeaker Burial Practices: Evidence from the Microscope’. In International Conference on Use-Wear Analysis: UseWear 2012, edited by João Marreiros and Nuno Bicho. Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing. Joyce, Rosemary A. 2001. ‘Burying the Dead at Tlatilco: Social Memory and Social Identities’. Archeological Papers of the American Anthropological Association 10 (1): 12–26. https://doi.org/10.1525/ap3a.2001.10.1.12.

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Liversage, David, and Pushpendra P. Singh. 1985. ‘A Comparison of Two Neolithic Flint Industries’. Journal of Danish Archaeology 4 (1): 70–78. https://doi.org/10. 1080/0108464X.1985.10589936.

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Madsen, Torsten, and Helle Juel Jensen. 1982. ‘Settlement and Land Use in Early Neolithic Denmark’. Analecta Praehistorica Leidensia 15: 63–86.

Binford, Lewis R. 1971. ‘Mortuary Practices: Their Study and Their Potential’. Memoirs of the Society for American Archaeology, no. 25: 6–29.

Madsen, Torsten, and Jens Erik Petersen. 1984. ‘Tidligneolitisk Anlæg Ved Mosegården’. Kuml 1982– 83: 61–132.

Bradley, Richard. 1998. The Significance of Monuments: On the Shaping of Human Experience in Neolithic and Bronze Age Europe. London-New York: Routledge.

Midgley, Magdalena. 2008. The Megaliths of Northern Europe. London-New York: Routledge.

Chapman, Robert. 2003. ‘Death, Society and Archaeology: The Social Dimensions of Mortuary Practices’. Mortality 8 (3): 305–12. https://doi.org/10.1080/1357 6270310001599849.

Pannett, Amelia. 2012. ‘Burning Issues: Fire and the Manufacture of Stone Tools in Neolithic Britain’. In Flint and Stone in the Neolithic Period, edited by Alan Saville. Oakville, CT: Oxbow Books.

Christensen, Tom, Elisabeth Pedersen, Klaus Ebbesen, Finn Frederiksen, Torben Hansen, and Jens Nyberg. 1978. ‘En Neolitisk Boplads På Lyø’. Aarbøger for Nordisk Oldkyndighed Og Historie, no. 74–131.

Renfrew, Colin. 1994. ‘The Archaeology of Religion’. In The Ancient Mind: Elements of Cognitive Archaeology, edited by Colin Renfrew and Ezra B.W Zubrow, 47–54. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Cotterell, Brian, and Johan Kamminga. 1992. Mechanics of Pre-Industrial Technology: An Introduction to the Mechanics of Ancient and Traditional Material Culture. Cambridge-New York-Melbourne-Port Chester-Sydney: Cambridge University Press.

Robb, John E. 1998. ‘The Archaeology of Symbols’. Annual Review of Anthropology 27 (January): 329–46. Rots, Veerle. 2010. Prehension and Hafting Traces on Flint Tools: A Methodology. Leuven: Leuven University Press.

Edmonds, Mark R. 1995. Stone Tools and Society: Working Stone in Neolithic and Bronze Age Britain. London: Batsford: Routledge.

Thomas, Julian. 1991. Rethinking the Neolithic. London: CUP Archive. 90

From the living to the dead Tilley, Christopher. 2003. An Ethnography of the Neolithic: Early Prehistoric Societies in Southern Scandinavia. Cambridge-New York-Melbourne-Madrid-Cape Town: Cambridge University Press. Whitehouse, Harvey. 2004. Modes of Religiosity: A Cognitive Theory of Religious Transmission. Walnut Creek: Rowman; AltaMira Press. Woerdekom, Corné van. 2011. ‘Scratching the Surface. Flint Assemblages of the Dutch Hunebedden’. Master thesis, Leiden: Leiden University.

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9 Ritual use of flint – flintscape in action Lars Larsson In South Scandinavia flint had a special position as a raw material for making a variety of tools. Flint became a very important element in marking the relationship between people and their conceptions of a different world populated by deities and dead ancestors. In this relationship, flint axes played a very special role. Deliberate deposition of axes in Southern Scandinavia chiefly occurs in wetlands, large as well as small. The extent of the deposits, however, varies in different parts of Southern Scandinavia. Axes are found both inside and outside megalithic graves, but the intention of the depositions differed. When and in what form axes occur in hoards and in graves follows certain rules. The transformation of flint tools could also involve changing the material through heating. A small number of sites have a large amount of material, while the majority of other sites, such as megalithic graves, have a smaller number of objects altered by fire, primarily axes. We can indeed speak of a flintscape surrounding the people.

Introduction

Wetland deposits of flint tools

In southernmost Scandinavia, flint was the wholly dominant raw material for making different forms of tools. Flint was not only an important element of daily activities. It was also the material that provided the foundation for what was industrial-scale mining and specialised flint knapping. Flint was, therefore, an important economic basis for the prosperity of certain societies. Flint became a significant commodity and gift for contacts between societies. The distribution was so extensive that it constituted a regular element of the transfer of goods, and also of knowledge about the manufacture of more advanced flint tools.

Wetland finds play a very important role in prehistoric research in Southern Scandinavia in general, and during the Neolithic in particular (Larsson 2007). Wetlands have been an important source of information due to the large number of water basins, from large lakes to small kettle holes, formed during the deglaciation in southern Scandinavia. A considerable number of lakes were substantially filled with organic litter and became bogs. Population aggregation and forest clearance caused fuel shortages, and from the late 18th-century peat cutting was introduced on a large scale (Kristiansen 1974). In order to gain more arable land, many wetlands were also drained, a process that started in the second half of the 19th century and is still taking place today. This process has consequently caused a radical change in the areal extent of the wetland landscape. A study of the drainage system of a small river in the western part of Scania, southernmost Sweden, shows that in the early 19th century wetlands covered 29% of the drainage system (Wolf 1956). By the 1950s the wetland area had been reduced to about 3%, and today the figure is even lower (Figure 9.1).

The flint axe especially, an object that was produced in large numbers, in five-figure numbers, became a catalyst for exchange, function and ritual. The linkage of rituals to depositions of flint and flint artefacts also helped to maintain the demand for flint as raw material or finished tool forms, thus manipulating the process of use. One must be aware that there may be rational explanations for the deposition of objects. The intention may have been, for example, to hide valuable possessions in times of uncertainty. The fact that there are so many depositions, chiefly in wetland settings, is nevertheless proof of deliberate action related to ideas of a ritual character (Bradley 2005; Swenson 2015). The occurrence of the same type of tool, the flint axe, also strengthens the assumption that the depositions are based on well-established ideas with an origin from Continental Europe (Sørensen 2014) that was transformed into long-lasting traditions in Neolithic societies in Southern Scandinavia.

Deposits of artefacts in bogs, mainly flint tools, were recognised during peat digging in the 18th and 19th centuries (Nielsen 1985). In the late 19th and early 20th century, a large number of artefacts were retrieved. During the two World Wars and shortly afterwards, peat cutting was intensive. Until the late 1940s, most of the cutting was carried out manually as well as the drainage, which meant that artefacts and sites were easily recognised. Today peat cutting is of minor extent and totally mechanised (Larsson and Sjöström 2011).

Axes are among the most important flint objects in this context, by which we actually mean axe heads and include axes, adzes, gouges and chisels.

The role of the wetland as a place of contact with the spiritual world was clearly much accentuated during the 93

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Figure 9.1. The distribution of wetlands within western Scania, southernmost part of Sweden, in the second half of the 19th century (above) and in the 1950s (below).

Neolithic. A study of the find contexts of more than 600 Neolithic hoards with flint axes in Denmark has shown that at least 80% have been found in former wetlands (Nielsen 1977, 1979). The Danish study is based on deposits that included two or more flint or stone objects, but a large number of single finds have also been found in wetland contexts (Karsten 1994). Additionally, in a study of depositional contexts in Scania, some 370 hoards (Figure 9.2) have been identified, and the proportion found in wetlands is similar to the figure for Denmark (Karsten 1994). However, in Scania, in addition to the hoards, there are also more than 900 recorded single finds.

of deposits that may have included a range of additional artefact types of less durable or obvious nature. A case study In order to generate a more detailed and hopefully more holistic understanding of the impact of votive deposition of flint objects on Neolithic society, an area in the southernmost part of Sweden was chosen, including the neighbourhood of the author’s residence in southern Scania (Larsson 2007). A complex range of landscape features, the understanding of which is fundamental to the analysis of wetland deposits, defines the research area. The landscape is mainly undulating in character, consisting of clay with a high content of lime. This landscape extends to the coast and is delimited on both sides by sandy plains (Figure 9.3). Due to the nature of the topography of this area, wetlands were plentiful and consequently, the land

In some instances a number of artefacts were deposited within a limited area over a period of time, often amounting to hundreds of years. Intact tools constitute the most common kind of find, but in some instances, these objects might simply represent the most visible element 94

Ritual use of flint – flintscape in action

Figure 9.2. A deposition of thin-buttered flint axes from the Early Neolithic.

suitable for settlement was somewhat limited. The number of Neolithic artefacts from the area of study in museum collections is low (Karsten 1994).

Field survey, along with information gained from several farm collections, means that the wetland find location of a considerable number of archaeological deposits has been identified. Most of the finds from museums as well as farm collections are intact tools. However, during surveys, several fragments of axes and also daggers have been found (Figure 9.4). While some of these might have been intentionally split, some axe fragments have a pattern of breakage consistent with their having been broken during use (Olausson 1983, Fig. 26).

The wetlands have been considerably reduced in both area and number during recent decades. However, an important data set is preserved in a military reconnaissance map from around 1815, prior to the implementation of largescale drainage endeavours. The map gives a unique insight into the size and distribution of wetlands, almost all of which have been totally drained today. In some of these cases, the former wetland area can still be monitored, as these areas are distinguished by darker soil, which remains visible today as a result of the high humus content of the plough zone.

The simplicity of the deposits makes it difficult for the layman to identify some of the objects as belonging to intentional votive deposits. It is possible that similar votive deposits in other bogs have not been noted, except when they occur in more easily recognised votive forms, as is the case with the more characteristic deposits of flint axes or daggers.

Because of the undulating topography, the view of landscape varies considerably, with excellent views from hilltops and a restricted field of vision in the areas between the hills. These changes in the landscape imbue it with a kind of monumentality in itself, and in this regard, it contrasts markedly with the surrounding plains. In this topographic setting, the wetlands are usually rather small, or else long and narrow, and they occupy discrete areas between the hills. The settlement remains of the Neolithic are situated on small hills, more especially on those that are made up of well-drained material (Figure 9.3). Unfortunately, ploughing has heavily damaged all of these sites, but most are of limited extent, usually covering an area of less than 1000 square metres.

The excavation of a small bog, Hindby mosse in southwestern Scania, presents remains of votive practices running through the Late Mesolithic, most of the Neolithic and into the Bronze Age (5000–1500 cal. BC) (Berggren 2007). There are examples of axes deposited in pairs in the bog, but it is more common to find combinations of tools, some of which had been broken before deposition. In addition, the bones of animals or humans have been recovered, such as a deposit of a burnt fragment of an axe, a human bone and three canine teeth of pig (Berggren 2007, 241). These remains show that in some cases sorting of 95

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Figure 9.3. Wetland depositions from the Neolithic within a research area in southernmost Scania, southern Sweden. Legend; 1: deposition of a single object, 2: deposition of at least two objects; 3: deposition of several objects; 4: deposition of objects made of antler or bone; 5: depositions from the Bronze Age; 6: depositions from the Iron Age, 7: megalithic tombs, now destroyed; 8: Neolithic settlement; 9: the extent of the hummocky area; A: wetlands and B: present lakes.

Figure 9.4. A deposition of a thick-butted flint axe of type B, a fragmentary stone axe of the same type, a flint core with a shape resembling an axe and a small polishing stone recovered in a very small bog.

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Ritual use of flint – flintscape in action the ritual depositions was carried out, as well as deliberate fragmentation by cracking and burning before deposition. Several similar finds have been noticed in recent years during development-led excavations of bogs in the Malmö area, south-west Scania (Ekerow and Ingwald 2002). While these deposits are the most difficult to recognise, the possibility exists that they may well have constituted one of the most common kinds of deposit and that failure to identify them has severely distorted the record.

primary intention behind wetland offerings. Wetland deposits could have been visible during dry summers when the harvest might have been severely affected, and the appearance of earlier deposits during times of drought might well have been an important stimulus to reinforce connections with the metaphysical world. In the cosmology of certain societies, the cosmos consists of three worlds: the underworld, the earth and the sky (Helskog 1988). The underworld is usually connected to the water, so the wetland might have been regarded as the liminal zone between the underworld and the physical world. Water is life-giving for all organisms, and wetland deposits might be related to underground spirits, connected with fertility, where the wetland was regarded as a point of bodily access to the hidden soul, i.e. to the underworld. Ritual deposits in wetlands might have been a regular practice, where the desired effects were long-lasting, but not immediately noticeable.

From the perspective of the Neolithic period, the case study shows that almost every wetland was used for some form of ritual depositions. Compared to Continental Europe, where deposits in rivers and lakes are rather well known, the equivalent number in southern Scandinavia contexts is small (Forssander 1933), with only a few instances reported within the research area, where artefacts have been found in a small brook. Most of the wetlands considered here contain either one or a couple of artefacts, and in the larger wetlands on the plain, a considerable number of artefacts have been found.

According to palaeoecological studies, most Neolithic wetlands were partially covered or encircled by small trees and bushes (Larsson 2000b). The depositional context of a small wetland, with a dense vegetation of bushes and trees surrounded by steep hills, focusing on a small part of the sky, produces a location tailor-made for deposits made by individuals or a small group. The situation is quite different from that of larger wetlands on a plain, where deposition could be watched by a large group of people (Figure 9.5). In the investigation area the largest deposit of flint axes, at least nine items, has been found in the biggest bog in the area. The first example is a ritual act where the most important part is to create contact with members of the underworld or upper world. In the larger wetlands, it should be anticipated that at least some of the deposits were made in order to let several people take part in an act of ritual depositions, which was initiated and performed by particular members of society.

Landscape and depositions In certain respects, the cosmology relating to wetland deposits was active throughout most of the Neolithic, and in later periods as well. Some wetlands appear to have been imbued with ideas of a sacred character over many centuries and in some cases millennia (Stjernquist 1997). Artefacts were often deposited within a delimited area of the bog, even though individual finds may comprise artefacts covering a considerable time-span (Karsten 1994). Depositing artefacts within a delimited area of a wetland in periods spanning several centuries means that knowledge of the ritual importance of the site survived for generations. Knowledge of the physical, as well as the metaphysical components of the landscape, was passed on over long time scales without any visible manifestation in the material culture. Clearly, a detailed knowledge of the landscape included legends, tales and stories, passed on from one generation to the next. During certain periods this relation to the wider worldview is marked by acts of ritual practice involving the material culture. However, it is apparent that for long intervals the knowledge was passed on without any visible reaction by the Neolithic societies in question, in terms of active votive deposition.

The latter form of offering ceremony might be related to the activities taking place in relation to burials in megalithic tombs, or offerings at these monuments. Such ceremonies are well attested by the large quantity of pottery and flint tools found outside the entrances to such tombs (Strömberg 1971; Tilley 1996). The hummocky landscape, with numerous small wetlands, had a limiting effect in terms of population size and the potential for communities to expand their resource exploitation areas. Therefore, it was not necessary to mark relations between people by means of monuments in the more marginal landscape, but this does not mean that ceremonies of different kinds were not taking place. These ceremonies were held both as more individual or personal ritual depositions in small wetlands, or as larger societal expressions of ritual behaviour on the plains. They clearly functioned with the landscape, acting as natural monuments in regions where monumental architecture was either an impractical or unnecessary form of societal ritual expression and legitimisation.

Bringing the old offering sites back into use during the latter part of the Middle Neolithic might have been a way to re-establish contacts with earlier generations. The sites represent a connection with societies of the past based on legends and could function as a means of legitimisation, as well as a way of emphasising a different value system from the society that had just been replaced. The deposition or transformation of artefacts in water would presumably invoke a subtle quality and confer special value on the artefact. This must have been the 97

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Figure 9.5. The depositional context of a small wetland produces a location tailor-made for deposits made by individuals or a small group (above). The situation is quite different from that of larger wetlands, where depositions could be watched by a large group of people (below).

Axes and megalithic tombs

shows that the intensity of axe deposition was greater in southernmost Sweden than in Denmark. The interest in building megalithic tombs, especially dolmens, seems to have been much greater in Denmark than in southernmost Sweden. Here, the deposition of valuable parts of the material culture, such as flint axes, took priority over the creation of monuments for the deceased.

In southern Sweden, the number of preserved dolmens is about 100 and the figure for passage graves is about 300, of which about 200 are found in Falbygden, western Sweden (Malmer 2003; Sjögren 2003). There are about 7,000 megalithic tombs today in Denmark, of which about 700 are passage graves (Jensen 2002; Ebbesen 2008, 2011).

As stated above, the construction of megalithic graves can be related to a vigorous population growth, whereby conflicts between groups initiated a need to build a larger number of monuments than in more thinly populated areas. Axe deposits need not have been as closely associated with relations between groups. Instead, these were more related to contacts with the metaphysical world.

Even though there may be divergences in the destruction of tombs, that can hardly make any major changes to the disproportional relations. And the disproportion might be even greater between Zealand, with the majority of dolmens (Jensen 2002), and nearby Scania, the southernmost part of Sweden. It should be borne in mind that, whereas megalithic graves are scattered over almost all of Zealand, the same form of grave occurs in Scania along the coast, with a few exceptional cases inland. This means that geological conditions with good agricultural districts comparable to Zealand are found only in half the area of Scania. With that situation in mind, the relation between Zealand and Scania might be as much as 50:1 (Eriksen and Andersen 2014). The ratio of passage graves in Denmark to Sweden is only about 2:1 (Jensen 2002; Ebbesen 2011).

We also find that the number of axes per deposition was larger in Denmark than in Skåne. Likewise, in the later part of the Neolithic, the number of axes is larger in Denmark than in southernmost Sweden (Nielsen 1977; Karsten 1994). Axes and the deceased Flint axes in mortuary practices can also be included as part of ritual use. The relationship between axes used as grave gifts and those deposited also shows some interesting differences. From the Early Neolithic, about fifty thin-butted axes have been recorded in Danish megalithic graves, in relation to about 500 in depositions. During the late stage of the Funnel Beaker culture of the Middle Neolithic, the number increases to more than 500 axes in Danish megalithic tombs but less than one hundred in depositions (Nielsen 1977; Ebbesen 2011). The use of axes as grave goods shows a conspicuous increase during

The marked difference in dolmens can be related to the number of axe hoards with thin-butted axes, which means depositions with two or more finds. In the whole of Denmark, 171 hoards (one per 250 sq. km) with a total of about 500 axes are known (Nielsen 1977). This may be compared to 122 hoards from Scania (one per 90 sq. km), with a total of 316 axes (Karsten 1994). It may be thought that the recovery procedure for the hoards has not been very different in these two areas. Rather, this 98

Ritual use of flint – flintscape in action this stage. Most of the axes found in megalithic graves show signs of intensive use, with several examples of reshaping (Ebbesen 2011). However, the majority of axes in depositions show no sign of use or only limited traces.

standpoint is that the main norms for axes were the same in 3400 BC as in 2400 BC.

Axes found in connection with tombs but located outside the chamber, most probably indicating that they were not directly intended as grave goods, exemplify an another relationship between megaliths and depositions. Even among these finds, a marked chronological difference is observed. Axes of the early thin-butted type have been located at only three dolmens, in comparison with 29 Danish megaliths having axes of the late Funnel Beaker culture (Ebbesen 2011). Intentional fragmentation of axes in tombs is rather rare. Edge or butt fragments have been found, but rarely parts of the same axe (Ebbesen 2011). However, some have parts of one edge knapped off in a way that has been regarded as an act of ritual importance.

Indications of the ritual use of flint axes are not restricted to finished axe-heads, however. During rescue excavation in a valley at Dösjebro in western Scania a Neolithic ritual complex was revealed on both sides of a small river. It included a palisade enclosure, graves from the Battle Axe culture as well as an area with intensive flint axe production (Lagergren 2008; Runcis 2008; Svensson 2008). In this case, there is a close relationship between the manufacture of axes and a site of seemingly ritual use. Debris from axe production was found in a number of the post-holes of the palisade enclosure. The area in question does not have flint nodules useful for axe manufacture, so the raw material had to be brought from the south-west, at least 20 km away. The palisade enclosure structure is dated to the transition from MNA to MNB, and the axes produced seem to be of the same age.

Axe and Palisades

Polished and unpolished axes Only one – and that one a most uncertain find – out of a total of 63 thin-butted flint axes from graves in Denmark is not polished (Nielsen 1977: Fundliste II). Unpolished axes have been found at tombs, but in these cases as finds in connection with the frame of stones outside the chamber (Nielsen 1977).

A similar connection is evident at another palisade enclosure, in this case partly excavated, at Järavallen in the very south-west of Scania (Svensson 2002). The palisade enclosure is located just a few hundred metres from a beach where flint nodules are numerous. A large number of axe preforms have been found along the beach. At two other palisade enclosures in the same region a large quantity of burnt debris, most from axe fabrication was found in post-holes (Brink 2009, 2014).

More than half of the thin-butted axes in hoards from Denmark (54%) are unpolished (Nielsen 1977: Fundliste I). One can identify an interesting change, with the lowest percentage of unpolished axes in hoards with axes of the earliest types (24%), and the highest percentage among the youngest axes (87%). The hoards of thin-butted axes from Scania show the same percentages of unpolished axes as in Denmark (Karsten 1994).

The close chronological and chronological connection between a structure of ritual use and axe production indicates that manufacture, or part of the manufacturing process, was included in communal ceremonies related to a sacred area from a late stage of the Middle Neolithic Funnel Beaker culture or an early part of the late Middle Neolithic.

The norm for selecting polished axes as grave gifts can also be acknowledged in the later Single Grave culture of Jutland. Out of 174 axes from 161 graves, just one is unpolished, and in addition, it is just a preform (Ebbesen 1983). In depositions, however, the unpolished thickbutted axes make up 47% and among the thick-butted gouges, the figure is as high as 76% (Ebbesen 1983). In Sweden all grave gifts of concave-edged, thick-bladed flint adzes from the Battle Axe culture, a total of 142, are polished (Malmer 1962). In hoards 65% are unpolished (Karsten 1994).

In this case, the fabrication or birth of axes was connected to wooden structures. This suggests a special perspective on the biography of axes. Axes were of major importance when building the palisade enclosure, which incorporated thousands of posts. The relationship between wood as a relatively soft material and stone as a much harder material has been presumed to encapsulate an important dualism between birth and death, when the human body grows harder with time and is transformed into stone after death (Parker Pearson and Ramilisonina 1998a: 313, 1998b).

These numerical exercises demonstrate that there is a major difference in how polished and unpolished axes were handled. Never, or very rarely, was an unpolished axe deposited in a grave, while it was completely accepted as part of a deposition. There may be a subtle meaning behind the relationship of polished and unpolished axes in one and the same deposition. That the number of polished axes in depositions discovered in firm ground is much higher than those in wetland hints at similarities to the practices of depositing axes in graves, where polished axes are the norm (Karsten 1994). However, the most important

Passage by fire A special form of fragmentation is the effect of fire. Fire alteration of tools is relatively frequent at sites throughout the Neolithic (Karsten 1994; Malmer 2003). At almost every site pieces of axes altered by fire are more affected than any other type. This phenomenon is independent of 99

Lars Larsson chronology – spanning the period from the earliest Early Neolithic to the latest Late Neolithic. Alteration by fire, however, seems to be most common during the Middle Neolithic and specifically during its latest part, including the late Funnel Beaker culture and the Single Grave culture.

bones, intentionally broken into small pieces, were also found, providing another example of the combination of humans and axes. The finds are dated to the late stage of the Battle Axe culture. As an interesting aspect of the ‘life cycle’ of axes, it should be stressed that the axes at Kverrestad included rough, unpolished examples, where only the form had been shaped, as well as examples with the very well-executed polish of the entire body.

A special and so far rare type of site with examples of firealtered flints, including a large number of fragments of thin-butted and thin-bladed axes, are found on a prominent hill at Svartkylle, south-eastern Scania. In a survey of the area, at least three concentrations of fragments were found on the surface (Larsson 1989). However, no features were found in a test excavation, which might be due to heavy ploughing and erosion. Two other sites with a large number of axes affected by fire, Strandby on Funen (Andersen 2009) and Stensborg in central Sweden (Larsson and Broström 2014), close to Stockholm, dated to the Early Neolithic/early Middle Neolithic, have been identified.

At Hansted Ådal, eastern Jutland, a number of firedamaged thick-butted, thin-bladed axes, point-butted axes with hollow-ground edges and chisels were found by surveys. As there is no indication of a megalithic tomb, they are regarded as a ritual deposition. The finds can be dated to the final part of the Funnel Beaker culture (Madsen 2019). It should also be noticed that alteration of flint by direct fire provides different products of fragmentation than those found at the sites mentioned above. It has been demonstrated through experiments that axes were heattreated before they were placed on the fire (Larsson 2000, 2019). Otherwise, they would have been fragmented into small pieces, not into the large parts that are normally found. So, the intention was not to destroy the axes but to retain parts as large as possible even after transformation by fire.

A similar kind of site but different in date was discovered only some 17 km from Svartkylle. Within an area of approximately 70 × 70 m at Kverrestad, south-eastern Scania, a large number of flints affected by fire were found (Larsson 2000, 2014). Excavation revealed a number of pits of varying size and depth, in which flint artefacts affected by fire had been deposited together with a considerable amount of fragmentary pottery (Figure 9.6). The largest pit was about 4 m long, the shortest less than 0.5 m. Finds were made throughout the fill. Fragments from about a hundred thick-butted, concave-edged axes and chisels have been found, as well as arrowheads and other flint and stone tools (Figure 9.7). A small number of burnt human

Flint tools affected by fire appear in many instances in relation to megalithic tombs. Burnt tools seem to be less common in burial contexts dated to the Early Middle Neolithic. However, during a late stage of the Funnel

Figure 9.6. A small and shallow pit with fragment of flint axes altered by fire. Photo: Lars Larsson.

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Figure 9.7. Flint axes altered by fire from Kverrestad, south-eastern Scania, southern Sweden, dated to the late Battle Axe culture. Photo: Lars Larsson.

necessarily linked to religious beliefs. Ideas about the choice of place for deposition and the status of the object were extremely tenacious, in several cases persisting throughout the Neolithic. In contrast, there seem to have been considerable variations, both chronologically and probably also chronologically, in the outlook on the role of the axe in relation to megalithic graves. As regards the intensity of deposition, it is likewise chiefly in wetland that significant changes can be discerned.

Beaker culture axes destroyed by fire are frequently found outside the entrances of some tombs (Tilley 1999). Fire is the destroyer. Fire could also be regarded as the cleanser. The artefact undergoes remarkable changes during the act. A colour transformation takes place from natural black or grey to white. Some changes are similar to the cremation of a human body when the colour of the bones changes to white. Ritual burning might have a public, direct, evocative and even magical appearance. Fire as a medium for transformations connected with rites of passage has mainly been applied in mortuary practices, but has also been used in many other circumstances.

What is expressed at sites with massive destruction by fire differs from the destruction of single artefacts by fire evidenced at settlement sites and graves. This type of public sacrifice of rare objects and with a direct effect may have been practised on special occasions, probably in connection with external or internal threats. In addition, this could be an act, which was primarily meant to legitimate power by impressing representatives of another community. The sites, despite different settings, had a topography which made it feasible for a large crowd of people to watch the ceremonies.

Conclusion As we saw above, flint affected most activities in a person’s life. We can indeed talk about people being surrounded by a flintscape. Especially the occurrence of flint axes in contexts, which can be described as being outside their day-to-day function as tools is extensive in Southern Scandinavia. A look through farm collections gives the impression that only a share, and maybe a small share, of the deliberate depositions, have ended up in museums. Depositions of axes are of such a scale that they constituted a frequent activity with a ritual character, possibly with varying intentions and not always

The cosmology that dictated burning was active throughout most of the Neolithic. The change of colour of the flint artefacts from the natural black or grey to white might be connected to a rite de passage. The colour change could be linked to the process when a human being is cremated. In 101

Lars Larsson Series in 8o, No. 23. Stockholm: Almkvist & Wiksell International.

that sense, the use of fire on axes could be regarded as the cremation of these flint objects and thereby the mortuary practice, as well as rules related to votive depositions, might have been interrelated.

Lagergren, Anna. 2008. “Stridsyxegravfält och kommunikation och den rituella platsen som länk mellan kulturer.” In: Dösjöbro mötesplats för trattbägarkultur & stridsyxekultur, edited by Per Lagerås, 54–124. Skånska spår – arkeologi längst västkustbanan. Lund: Riksantikvarieämbetet.

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Larsson, Lars. 1989. “Brandopfer. Der frühneolithische Fundplatz Svartskylle im südlichen Schonen, Schweden.” Acta Archaeologica 59: 143–53.

Berggren, Åsa. 2007. Till och från ett kärr. Den arkeologiska undersökningen av Hindbygården. Malmöfynd nr. 17. Malmö: Malmö kulturmiljö.

Larsson, Lars. 2000a. “The passage of axes: fire transformation of flint objects in the Neolithic of southern Sweden.” Antiquity 74 (285):602–10.

Brink, Kristian. 2009. I palissadernas tid. Om stolphål och skärvor och sociala relationer under yngre mellanneolitikum. Malmöfynd 21. Malmö: Malmö kulturmiljö.

Larsson, Lars. 2000b, “Axes and Fire – Conntacts with the Gods.” In Form, Function & Context. Material culture studies in Scandinavian archaeology edited by Deborah Olausson and Helle Vandkilde, 93–103. Acta Archaeologica Lundensia, series in 8o, No. 31. Stockholm: Almkvist & Wiksel International.

Brink, Kristian. 2014. “Palisaded enclosures as arenas of social and political transformation in the late Middle Neolithic of southernmost Scandinavia.” In Landscapes, Histories and Societies in the Northern European Neolithic, edited by Mirtin Furholt, Martin Hinz, Doris Mischka, Gordon Noble and Deborah Olausson, 57–64. Frühe Monumentalität und soziale Differenzierung 4. Bonn: Verlag Dr. Rudolf Habelt.

Larsson, Lars. 2007. “Wetland and Ritual Deposits during the Neolithic. A Local Study in a Micro-environment of a Macro-phenomenon.” Lund Archaeological Review 2005–2006, (2007): 59–69.

Ebbesen, Klaus. 2008. Danmarks megalitgrave. Bind 2 – Katalog. Københamn: Attika.

Larsson, Lars. 2014. “Neolithic transformations: relationships between society and landscape.” In Landscapes, Histories and Societies in the Northern European Neolithic, edited by Martin Furholt, Martin Hinz, Doris Mischka, Gordon Noble and Deborah Olausson, 197–206. Frühe Monumentalität und soziale Differenzierung 4. Bonn: Verlag Rudolf Habelt.

Ebbesen, Klaus. 2011. Danmarks megalitgrave. Bind 1, 1–2. København: Attika.

Larsson, Lars. 2019. Experimental heating of flint objects. Lund Archaeologicak Review 2019. In print.

Ekerow, Hans, and Johan Ingwald. 2002. Öresundsförbindelsen. Robotskjutfältet 14A–B. Rapport nr. 26. Malmö: Malmö kulturmiljö.

Larsson, Lars and Broström, Sven-Gunnar. 2014. “Stensborg – Mass destruction of axes and cereals reflecting southern contacts of the Funnel Beaker societies in southern Sweden.” In Landscapes, Histories and Societies in the Northern European Neolithic, edited by Martin Furholt, Martin Hinz, Doris Mischka, Gordon Noble and Deborah Olausson, 303–16. Frühe Monumentalität und soziale Differenzierung 4. Bonn: Verlag Dr. Rudolf Habelt.

Ebbesen, Klaus. 1983. “Flint Celts from Single-Grave Burials and Hoards on the Jutlandic Peninsula.” Acta Archaeologica 53 (1982): 119–81.

Eriksen, Palle, and Niels H. Andersen. 2014. Stendysser. Arkitektur og funktion. Aarhus: Jysk Arkæologisk Selskab. Forssander, John-Elof. 1933. “En fyndplats från stenåldern i Sege å vid Malmö.” Meddelanden från Lunds universitets historiska museum 1932–1933, 24–42.

Larsson, Lars, and Arne Sjöström. 2011. “Bog sites and wetland settlement during the Mesolithic: Research from a bog in central Scania, Southern Sweden.” Archäologisches Korrespondenzblatt 2011 (4): 457–72.

Helskog, Knut. 1988. Helleristningene i Alta. Alta: Alta museum. Jensen, Jørgen. 2002. Danmarks Oldtid. Stenalder 13.000– 2.000 f. Kr. København: Gyldendal.

Madsen, T. 2019. Continuity and Change. The development of Neolithic societies in central East Jutland, Denmark. Catalogue of finds. On line.

Jørgensen, Erik. 1977. Hagebrogård – Vroue – Koldkur. Neolithische Gräberfelder aus Nordwest-Jutland. Arkæologiske Studier IV. København: Akademisk forlag.

Malmer, Mats P. 1962. Jungneolithische Studien. Acta Archaeologica Lundensia, series in 8o, No. 2. Lund: Gleerup.

Karsten, Per. 1994. Att kasta ytan i sjön. En studie over rituell tradition och förändring utifrån skånska neolitiska offerfynd. Acta Archaeologica Lundensia,

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Ritual use of flint – flintscape in action Nielsen, Poul Otto. 1977. “Die Flintbeile der frühen Trichterbecherkultur in Dänemark.“ Acta Archaeologica 48 (1977): 61–138. Nielsen, Poul Otto 1979. “De tyknakkede flintøksers kronologi.” Aarbøger 1977 (1979):1–71. Olausson, Deborah. 1983. “Lithic Technological Analysis of the Thin-butted Flint Axe.” Acta Archaeologica 53: 1–87. Parker Pearson, Mike, and Ramilisonina. 1983a. “Stonehenge for the ancestors: The stones pass on the message.” Antiquity 72 (276): 308–26. Parker Pearson, Mike, and Ramilisonina. 1983b. “Stonehenge for the ancestors: Part two.” Antiquity 72 (278): 855–56. Runcis, Janis. 2008. “Neolitisk yxtillverking. Produktion, organisation och kulturell context.” In Dösjebro. mötesplats för trattbägarkultur & stridsyxekultur editd by Per Lagersås, 127–53. Skånska spår – arkeologi längs Västkustbanan. Lund: Riksantikvarieämbetet. Sjögren, Karl-Göran. 2003. ‘‘Mangfalldige uhrminnes grafvar…’’ Megalitgravar och samhälle i Västsverige. GOTARC, ser. B no. 27. Coast to coast-books no. 9. Göteborg: Götebors universitet, Institutionen för arkeologi. Stjernquist, Berta. 1997. The Röekillorna Spring. Springcults in Scandinavian Prehistory. Regiae Societatis Humaniorum Litterarum Lundensis LXXXII. Stockholm: Almkvist & Wiksell International. Strömberg, Märta. 1971. Die Megalithgräber von Hagestad. Zur Problematik von Grabbauten und Grabriten. Acta Archaeologica Lundensia, Series in 8o, No9. Lund: Gleerup. Svensson, Mac. 2002. “Palisade enclosures – The Second Generation of Enclosed Sites in The Neolithic of Northern Europe”. In Behind Wooden Walls: Neolithic Palisaded Enclosures in Europe edited by Alex Gibson, 28–58. International Series 1013. Oxford: BAR Publishing. Svensson, Mac. 2008. “Mellanneolitiska palissadanläggningar. Palissaden i Dösjöbro i ett nordeuropeiskt perspektiv.” In Dösjöbro mötesplats för trattbägarkultur & stridsyxekultur edited by Per Lagerås, 20–53. Skånska spår – arkeologi längst västkustbanan. Lund: Riksantikvarieämbetet. Tilley, Christopher. 1996. An Ethnography of the Neolithic. Early prehistoric societies in southern Scandinavia. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Tilley, Christopher. 1999. Metaphor and Material Culture. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell.

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10 A relational perspective on entangled biographies in Southern Scandinavian Mesolithic hoards Mathias Bjørnevad-Ahlqvist Department of Archaeology and Heritage Studies, Aarhus University [email protected] In this paper, I intend to move past standard approaches to prehistoric ritual where the interpretation often relies on the composition or depositional context of hoards. This means that such practices are often treated as static events, where only the final act is considered. Furthermore, such interpretations are often based on modern dichotomies between the ritual and the profane. As a counterpoint to the prior research tradition, I use an approach combining practice theory, a biographical approach, a relational perspective, and bundling theory to interpret Southern Scandinavian Mesolithic hoards. The hoards are treated as part of a long and complex chain of events, with each object in a hoard specifically chosen to be collected and bundled together, based on the relational significance of each object and the assemblage as a whole. I posit that this relational significance was an integral feature of hoarding practices. The novel approach is supported by a large number of case studies of Southern Scandinavian Mesolithic hoards, where a consistent feature is that hoards include objects with distinctly different biographies. By using this approach, this paper aims to highlight the patterning of Mesolithic hoards and to emphasise the importance of using biographical and relational approaches to studying prehistoric depositional practices.

Introduction

This paper defines a hoard as an intentional single deposit containing multiple objects found in a discrete cluster (Figure 10.1). Deposits that contain debitage, food or unworked animal remains are excluded; the same applies to groups of objects found in graves or dispersed either on the surface or within a pit. This was done as a means of limiting the risk that any unrelated practices like knapping debris, mortuary practices or other settlement waste affected the analysis. The definition is an attempt to be as objective and systematic as possible with an inherently problematic material. During the research this criteria was continually reassessed and it is the author’s opinion that even if it was modified slightly, it would have relatively little impact on the results and interpretation put forward in this paper. The cases discussed in the following do not represent the full corpus of identified Mesolithic hoards, as a full discussion of these hoards lies outside of the scope of this paper (see also Bjørnevad forthcoming; Bjørnevad and Stephansen forthcoming). However, the hoards described below are representative of the wider practice.

The interpretation of prehistoric depositional practices is fraught with difficulties, inconsistencies and assumptions arguably based on post-enlightenment ideas of the dichotomous distinction between ritual and profane life (Brück 1999). This has led to seemingly unexplainable assemblages of material, thought as evident of ritual or sacrifice, whereas deposits that fit modern ideas of functionalism are thought to be profane. Prehistoric hoards are often rudimentarily described, the depositional context is often simplified to dry or wet and the discussion of the composition limited to the number and type of objects, their size, and perhaps a brief mention of the condition of the objects or whether use-wear traces are present. These observations are then used to categorise ‘types’ of hoards either by object type or by context. Thus, hoards are treated as static entities with little discussion of the practices that preceded the deposition, and this approach risks overlooking key patterns or idiosyncrasies as well as the materiality, temporality and the people behind the practice. Naturally, all of these ought to be considered if such practices are to be understood as more than just a group of objects found together. In order to move past some of these problematic interpretive paradigms, this paper proposes an alternative interpretative framework combining a biographical approach and a relational ontological perspective (Watts 2013; Baires and Baltus 2016; Baltus 2018), which will be used to analyse and interpret Southern Scandinavian Mesolithic hoards.

Setting the stage: A brief overview of Mesolithic hoards and the research history Research into prehistoric hoarding has a long history in Southern Scandinavia as well as other parts of Europe. This research has, however, been dominated by studies of primarily Neolithic, Bronze Age and Iron Age material with the Mesolithic largely side-lined. When Mesolithic hoards have been discussed they are 105

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Figure 10.1. Examples of in situ Southern Scandinavian Mesolithic hoards from Gøngehusvej 7 (Kongemose-Ertebølle) (Photo: Erik Brinch Petersen, University of Copenhagen), Ringkloster (Later Ertebølle) (Photo: Søren H. Andersen, Moesgaard Museum), Øgårde (Maglemose) (Mathiassen 1943, 91, fig. 43) and Ageröd I:B (Late Maglemose) (Photo: Lars Larsson, Lund University). Photos are not to scale.

mostly briefly acknowledged, often with very little description, interpretation or wider discussion (Bjørnevad forthcoming). This limited research is notable given that Mesolithic hoards have been identified since the early 1800’s with the first publication that explicitly discussed a few of these published in 1918 (Rydbeck). Since then, a maximum of 14 hoards have been described in a single publication (Larsson 1978) and thus far, no publication or research project has been dedicated to these Southern Scandinavian Mesolithic hoards. This is in stark contrast to Neolithic hoards that have been the focus of much more extensive and intensive research (e.g. Nielsen 1977; Rech 1979; Karsten 1994). The research history arguably results in a lopsided understanding of the longue durée of hoarding practices in Southern Scandinavia. In response to this, the current paper will address some of the patterning and variability observable in Mesolithic hoards, a practice that stretch across the entire Mesolithic. A total of 124 such Mesolithic hoards have been identified by the author (Figure 10.2), a significant increase in the dataset, which has allowed a greater level of quantifiable and qualitative analysis than has previously been attempted.

often considered waste, forces us to question how such deposits should be interpreted. Do the contexts, material and depositions suggest that they should be considered strictly profane or ritual? To get past some of these problematic modern western constructs and to understand the Mesolithic hoards better, this paper combines a novel combination of methods and theoretical approaches. Theoretical and methodological framework The theoretical and methodological framework employed in the current paper comprises insights from object biography studies (cf. Kopytoff 1986; Fontijn 2002; Joy 2016) and relational ontologies (Baires and Baltus 2016; Watts 2013; Baltus 2018). The combination of these two perspectives provides a more holistic approach to studying and interpreting prehistoric depositional practices, which is also less reliant on modern Anglo-centric interpretive frameworks or direct application of selective ethnographic analogies. In a biographical approach, the hoarding practice is viewed as a long series of actions and decisions that culminated in the deposition. Thus, the deposition is seen as the final but not necessarily the most important act in the entire performance. Taking into account as many of these stages as possible may help better understand the hoarding practices. By incorporating a biographical approach to the study of these hoards, rather than simply focusing on the composition and depositional context, it was observed that a very common feature of Southern Scandinavia Mesolithic hoard is the combination of objects with different biographies. This observation was based on analyses of material properties of the objects as well as use-wear traces on a selection of the hoards. Furthermore, the results showed that the precise combination of biographies is highly idiosyncratic and no two hoards seem to be exactly alike. These biographical results are argued to provide evidence for the importance

This analysis revealed that a wide range of formal tools and blanks as well as raw material are contained within Mesolithic hoards, however some preferences might be discernible. Examples of this include the large numbers of hoards containing blades and axes and the comparatively commonness of hoards with partially worked bone/antler, cores/nodules or bone points (Figure 10.3). Contrary to most Neolithic hoards, their Mesolithic counterparts are generally found within or close by settlements. However, these are mostly placed in or nearby to wetlands, so they seem to be a both a wetland and settlement-based practice. Multiple hoards are found in so-called refuse layers, an unfortunate term given to the outskirts of Mesolithic settlements where large amounts of material have been deposited. The settlement-based nature of many of these hoards, including their association with that 106

A relational perspective on entangled biographies in Southern Scandinavian Mesolithic hoards

Figure 10.2. Map of case study area and all of the Mesolithic hoards compiled by the author. The hoards mentioned in the text are denoted by a star in the following list. 1–5. Ageröd*, 6. Anderstorp*, 7. Arreskov Sø*, 8. Bjällvarpet, 9. Björkeröds fällad*, 10. Bøgebakken, 11–12. Bökeberg III*, 13. Dagstorp*, 14. Doverodde, 15. Dybvadbro, 16. Fladbro, 17. Flækkemagle, 18. Gammelrand Mose*, 19. Garbølle Mose*, 20–21. Gøngehusvej 7*, 22. Hasselfors, 23. Havnø, 24. Henriksholm-Boldbaner*, 25. Herlufmagle Mose*, 26. Hindbygården*, 27. Holbo*, 28. Horne Terp*, 29–30. Husted Mose*, 31. Hörninge Mosse, 32. Ingersbyn Mosse, 33. Klippan, 34. Kongemosen, 35. Kristian Isbaks Mose, 36–37. Lundby Mose 5, 38–39. Lystrup, 40–41. Maglelyng XL*, 42. Maglemosegårds Vænge, 43. Noresund, 44. Norje Sunnansund, 45. Näsum, 46. Nørre Sandegaard*, 47. Porsgaard, 48. Porskjær Bakke*, 49. Revinge Bog, 50. Revlen XI, 51–54. Ringkloster, 55. Ringsjöholm, 56. Ronaes Skov, 57. Rødkildegård, 58–71. Rönneholm*, 72. Siggeneben Süd LA 12, 73–75. Siggård*, 76. Simrisham*, 77. Siretorp, 78. Sjöholmen, 79. Sjövreten, 80–82. Skal, 83. Skamstrup, 84. Skateholm II, 85–86. Skummeslövstrand, 87. Snyggatorp*, 88. St. Havelse Strand, 89. Stavns*, 90. Stora Sjögestad, 91. Strandby, 92. Svenstorp, 93. Sværdborg I, 94. Sølund*, 95–96. Timmerås*, 97. Tissø*, 98. Tolstrup Hede, 99. Tuekæret, 100. Tuve 18, 101–103. Tågerup*, 104. Udstolpe, 105. Ulkestrup Lyng, 106. Ullerslev*, 107. Undløse, 108. Vedbæk Boldbaner, 109. Vegeholms Slot, 110. Ytterby 185, 111. Ängehagen, 112–117. Øgårde*, 118. Ørvadgård, 119. Östra Grevie, 120. Åby, 121. Åle Syd, 122. Ålyst*, 123. Åmossen, 124. Årup.

of relational ontologies in Mesolithic hoarding practices, In these practices, the bringing together of different people, spheres and ideas provided the depositional practices with its inherent value. (see further down).

highly detailed empirical observations provide insights into some of the ontological and assembling processes underpinning the practice. Different sources

Entangled biographies in Southern Scandinavian Mesolithic hoards

The source of material can be an integral property of a given object for not only functional reasons, but also for the relational significance associated with the source. This can refer to both the importance of, location and the spatial and temporally-specific social entanglements (sensu Hodder 2012) related to the sourcing of material. For example an object produced from a flint sourced from a specific outcrop may have had a particular relational value

In the sections below I aim to draw attention to these varied biographies that can be identified within the Southern Scandinavian hoarding practice, in particular the different spatio-temporal and social sources of the material and the treatment of the objects throughout their prehistoric life. Within the theoretical framework of this paper, these 107

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Figure 10.3. Composition of Southern Scandinavia Mesolithic hoards (Bjørnevad forthcoming).

attributed to that particular outcrop or area. The same can also be said for osseous material gathered from either a specific type of animal or hunted in a specific area, etc.

hoard found at Øgårde contained 98 tooth beads from red deer, otter, badger and fox (Mathiassen 1943, 91) (see Figure 10.1). These beads can be seen as having a range of potential different sources, as they originate from different animals, are likely, accumulated over a large number of different hunts, produced by different individuals and may have been acquired through various exchange and circulation networks. Each of these stages might be understood as representing a source of the material and each of these stages likely also had its own relational significance embedded within the object. Thereby, when the individual beads were gathered together either to be deposited as a collection of beads or as an item of jewellery or clothing, these different relational significances became bundled together with both an aesthetic and relational significance.

The potential importance of a source might also refer to the social entanglements connected to the moment when the material was gathered. If, say, the material was sourced with exchange or gift giving, then the source of material is not only the precise social event of the final exchange or gifting the object, it is also potentially the accumulation of the enchained relationships embedded within the object based on its prior exchanges, circulation, uses, etc. (Mauss 2002). In this case, objects can be seen as having multiple sources consisting of the original gathering of material as well as the subsequent circulation, exchange and gifting of the said object. Another example could be the specific hunt that a bone, tooth or antler originates from, which could have had a particular relational importance based on the reasoning for the hunt, the individuals or groups involved or based on the importance of the specific animated spirit of the animal that was killed.

Tooth bead hoards are not the only osseous hoards which contain material from multiple different sources. Another example, also dating to the Maglemose is the hoard from Gammelrand Mose containing two red deer antler axes, an aurochs bone adze as well as a piece of skull attached elk antler (Mathiassen 1959, 23) (Figure 10.4). This hoard thus contains the combination of antler and bone from three different animals. The combination of the different species of large game suggests that these animals were likely hunted at different times and were likely curated and circulated to different degrees. In addition, the axes and the chisel may have been used in different but associated contexts, whereas the elk antler cut-off can be raw material

Two Maglemose hoards of animal tooth beads both found in different sites in Åmosen are particular good examples of materials that must have been gathered from a large number of different hunts. The first hoard from Skamstrup, that likely dates to the Maglemose, was made up of 21 tooth beads from red deer, elk, otter, fox, wildcat, badger, aurochs and other unidentified small predator animals (Sørensen 2017). The other 108

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Figure 10.4. Early Maglemose hoard from Gammelrand Mose (Photo: National Museum of Denmark).

for potentially making other large antler objects. Whether it was intended to be made into something in the future – i.e. being stored for later use – or if it was intended to be a permanent deposition of an object symbolically representing the limitless array of relational potentialities, is an interesting question, however unfortunately one that can so far only be pondered.

and radii found tied together with strips of bark, (Larsson 1983, 79). These bones originate from at least elk and two or three red deer that likely represent the accumulation of remains from multiple hunts. However, it should be mentioned that unlike with the antler hoards, the duration of this accumulation cannot be determined. It is not just osseous hoards that contain material from different specific sources. This can, for example, also be seen in the Mesolithic hoards that contain the combination of objects produced from different flint nodules, with each nodule potentially having a unique relational significance based on its specific source of the material in terms of location, specific moment in time, and social setting. A particularly good example of this is the Kongemose hoard from Rönneholm 8:1 that contains 108 flint blades which were produced from several cores (Sjöström 2004, 28) (Figure 10.5). During refitting of this hoard, it was noted that the blades were not randomly placed within the hoard, rather blades produced from the same core were discretely bundled together within the larger hoard (Sjöström 2004, 28). The bundling of the blades from each distinct core indicates that the original source for each of the blades was recognised, and it was considered important to keep them distinct from objects produced from other material sources. Based on the differences in colour and texture of the lithic raw material in the hoards from Dagstorp (Rydbeck 1918, 7), Maglelyng XL (see Figure 10.10), Ageröd I:29 (see Figure 10.6), Siggård (see Figure 10.21), Stavns (see Figure 10.16A), Hindbygården (see Figure 10.14), Holbo (see Figure 10.8), and Björkeröds fällad (see Figure 10.22), it is highly likely that the objects within these hoards were also produced form different cores and possibly different sources.

A different example of a hoard with a combination of objects from different sources is known from the Kongemose site of Ageröd V (Larsson 1983, 80–81). This hoard contains two pieces of partially worked antler, both red deer, which could suggest that they originated from the same animal. However, one of these antlers has a skull attached and the other is shed antler, so rather than stemming from the same hunt, they were likely gathered at different times of year i.e. from around fall to early winter and the other antler in early spring (Larsson 1983, 80–81). This temporal gap and the difference between the mode of gathering the antler (i.e. one antler taken directly from a killed red deer and one picked up from the ground) can be understood as the combination of two sources, each with its own distinct potential relational significance. The curation of skull with attached antler from red and roe deer, kept for several months without further working is also seen at the Ertebølle site of Henriksholm-Bøgebakken where the burials seem to be from the summer, however the antler that was deposited in at least one of the graves had been collected from killed deer during the winter (Brinch Petersen 2015, 85, 106). A few meters away from the aforementioned antler hoard from Ageröd V, another hoard was found in the refuse layer, which contained a bundle of split and chopped metacarpels, metatarsels, ulna 109

Mathias Bjørnevad-Ahlqvist ball flint that can be collected from the surface as glacial till. However, the extremely large numbers of nodules found in the Maglemose hoard from Nørre Sandegård V, a total of 79 (Becker 1990), and the unusually large nature of the eight flint nodules found in a posthole from the Maglemose site of Ålyst (Casati and Sørensen 2012) suggests that this material was likely collected over an extended period and in different areas. Given the rarity of such large flint nodules on Bornholm, it is possible that the large nodules from Ålyst were the product of exchange networks across the island. In these instances, the combination of flint with different source locations or social settings, as with the combination different raw materials, can be seen entangling different complex and more subtle relationships, between the source material, objects, their use-lives and the people involved together as a complex bundle (Zedeño 2008). Different producers One aspect that has been too often absent in research of prehistoric depositional practices, is in relation to the number of contributors to the hoard. From a relational perspective, the number and character of the individuals involved in the production, use, and circulation, etc. of these objects have a significant impact on the relational role and importance of individual objects and the assembled hoards (Baltus 2018). Thus, it is important to try to identify and understand whether a hoard represents the collection of objects from a single producer, or whether is an assemblage of objects from different producers.

Figure 10.5. In situ photograph of the hoard from Rönneholm 8:1 (Larsson and Sjöström 2013, 494, fig. 4).

The deposition of multiple flint nodules might be viewed in a similar light. The vastly different colouration of the cores and nodules from the Late Maglemose-Kongemose hoard from Ageröd I:29 (Sjöström and Hammarstrand Dehman 2015), deems it likely that the three cores as well as two fragmented blades made from banded orange flint were sourced from a different area than the two black flint nodules. Furthermore, the different stages of working of these orange cores and blades compared to the black nodules, highlights the difference in the use-life biography of the objects that corresponds with the different sources of the material (see further down).

Identifying individual producers in prehistory is very difficult and attempts have resulted in various levels of success (e.g. Hill and Gunn 1977; Cahen and Keeley 1980; Johansen and Stapert 1998; Högberg 1999; Ruth and Stapert 2007; Huckell 2008; Högberg 2008; Sternke and Sørensen 2009; Foulds 2013, 2014; Donahue and Fischer 2015). But if we are to try to reconstruct as much as possible of the biography of an individual object or of a hoard and understand its relational role and importance, it would be very useful to discuss the number of producers or even the characteristics of individual producers. The attempts at identifying individual producers of lithic technology have primarily been based on identifying particular technological traits with the assumption that these represent either conscious or subconscious individualized decisions or other innate characteristics of the knapper such as handedness, skill or other attributes that are characteristic of particular knappers (e.g. Finaly 2008; Ruth and Huckell 2008; Stalh 2008; Uomini 2008; Domingues-Ballesteros and Arrizabalga 2015; Bargallo et al. 2017). The most successful studies that have attempted this have often focused on larger assemblages and in particular of complex bifacial technology (e.g. Hill and Gunn 1977; Whittaker 1987; Ruth and Huckell 2008).

The only two hoards known from the island of Bornholm are also good examples of hoards that contain nodules likely collected at different times, places and under different social settings. Both hoards contain the local

Unfortunately such quantifiable analysis was not possible for the available and identified Mesolithic hoards due to the limited number of hoards with bifacial tools and

Figure 10.6. The Late Maglemose-Kongemose hoard from Ageröd I:29 (modified from Sjöström and Hammarstrand Dehman 2015, 12–16, figs. 9–15).

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A relational perspective on entangled biographies in Southern Scandinavian Mesolithic hoards the often small numbers of objects found in the hoards. However, based on the notable different production techniques and skill level of different objects in the same hoard, it is possible that some of the Mesolithic hoards do contain objects from different producers. For example, the Maglemose hoard from Sølund contains two core axes and a pick, all produced from remarkably similar flint (Rasmussen et al. 2014) (Figure 10.7A), but the quality of knapping varies between these three objects, in particular the flint pick seems to be of a higher quality compared to the two core axes. The two core axes also vary in knapping quality which could indicate that the three objects were knapped by two or three different knappers.

retouch, location and directionality of these flakes differed between these two picks. A similar observation was noted by the author and by the original finders of a hoard of Late Ertebølle core axes found at Holbo (NM A 16857–16860 – National Museum of Denmark) (Figure 10.8). Not only does the raw material differ between the axes, also the knapping quality varies significantly. In particular one of the core axes (second from the left) displays considerably worse quality knapping than the other core axes, but interestingly the overall form of the axe, especially the cross section of the butt as well as the directionality of some of the flakes, seem to roughly mimic the largest axe found in the hoard. It is possible that this poor quality axe was an imitation of the large axe in the hoard, perhaps suggesting that the two producers of the axes knew and worked alongside each other. The other axes are notably different, perhaps especially regarding the cross sections, the shape of the butts and the techniques used to produce the edges. One of these axes made from a coarse grained white flint (right side) even appears to be in a transitional stage between a standard core axe and one with a specialized edge, thus not only dating the axe hoard to the Late Ertebølle, but also suggesting a degree of experimentation by the flint knapper and highlighting the likelihood that these axes were produced by different individuals.

Similarly, the hoard of four Maglemose flint picks from Tissø (Fischer 2004) also appears to have been made by different individuals (Figure 10.7B). The picks initially appear very similar, and were likely based on the same mental template, however, a closer examination of the manufacturing techniques, skill level and also the shapes of the tips and butts showed significant variability between the picks. Several aspects of the production of these picks indicate that they are not the outcome of four separate people working individually, rather two groups of two people likely produced the picks. For example, two of the picks were made from the same material and in a similar way, but the knapping quality varied. The butts of these picks were both quite flat but were slightly narrowed with one transverse flake. The picks both had fairly flat tips, but the location, direction and skill level of the flake removals to shape these two picks varied significantly. The other two picks are also of similar type of flint, and have similar butts that are distinctly sharper and more chisel shaped than the aforementioned blue-grey picks. In addition, these chisel shaped butts represent the original shape of the flint, indicated by the presence of cortex on the dorsal and the ventral sides. However once again the degree of

It also appears that a number of bone point hoards were likely produced by different individuals. An example is the seven complete Maglemose fine toothed bone points from Herlufmagle Mose (NM A 31037–43) that initially appear to look very similar; (Figure 10.9A), but upon closer examination a number of important differences between many of the bone points becomes apparent. The shape of the bases vary with some slightly tapering, others have a flat base, and others have a large oblique cut, with varying

Figure 10.7. Left – Hoard from Sølund that contains two core axes and one flint pick (Photo: Kaj Rasmussen, Silkeborg Museum) and right – hoard of four picks from Tissø (Photo: Author).

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Figure 10.8. Hoard of four core axes from Holbo (Photo: Author).

directions. Some of the bone points have a more irregular base. Furthermore, and perhaps more telling, the length, number, position, angle and production method used to cut the fine teeth also varies notably between the points, and the quality of the sawing used to cut the teeth is dissimilar; some points have many more mistakes and extraneous cuts than others. Similar observations have been made by the author for other bone point hoards from Horne Terp (Maglemose) (Figure 10.9B), Mosegården III øst / Øgårde 9 (Kongemose) (Figure 10.9C), Garbølle Mose (Figure 10.9D). Once again, initially the points in each of the hoards appear very similar, but subtle differences in manufacturing techniques or skill level suggest that although they were found together they were produced by different individuals.

of objects in hoards, the material and the type of objects are the same in the respective hoards. Thus it appears that both the material, the type of object and also the collective nature of the hoard were important features of the hoards. These differences in production techniques and skill level may not be unequivocal evidence that the objects were produced by different individuals. Nevertheless, it is precisely this type of evidence that we are limited to using, and it should be noted that this explanation readily matches the archaeological evidence. If we accept the above, one interesting question that remains is how directly or indirectly the involved individuals contributed to the hoards. Did multiple individuals bring their objects together to be deposited or were these objects the accumulation of different exchange networks that were then collected and deposited by an individual? This question, although perhaps often unanswerable, is important to address as it may be inextricably linked to the relational significance of the hoards and the individual objects. In the Mesolithic cases it is noteworthy that, although we may not be able identify the exact mechanisms behind the accumulation of objects in hoards, the material and the type of objects are the same in the respective hoards. Thus it appears that both the material, the type of object and also the collective nature of the hoard were important features of the hoards.

These differences in production techniques and skill level may not be unequivocal evidence that the objects were produced by different individuals. Nevertheless, it is precisely this type of evidence that we are limited to using, and it should be noted that this explanation readily matches the archaeological evidence. If we accept the above, one interesting question that remains is how directly or indirectly the involved individuals contributed to the hoards. Did multiple individuals bring their objects together to be deposited or were these objects the accumulation of different exchange networks that were then collected and deposited by an individual? This question, although perhaps often unanswerable, is important to address as it may be inextricably linked to the relational significance of the hoards and the individual objects. In the Mesolithic cases it is noteworthy that, although we may not be able identify the exact mechanisms behind the accumulation

Different use-life history As part of the current study, 11 hoards were subjected to use-wear analysis using a Dino-lite USB microscope and/ or a Nikon Eclipse LV150 metallurgical microscope; in 112

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Figure 10.9. Hoards of bone points from A) Herlufmagle Mose (Photo: Author), B) Horne Terp (Photo: Media Moesgaard, Søren Vestergaard), C) Mosegården III øst (Photo: Author) and D) Garbølle Mose (NM A 42158–42159) (Photo: Author).

addition the results of prior published use-wear analysis and macroscopic observations from a number of other Mesolithic hoards are described below. No attempt was made during the analysis using the Dino-Lite microscope to identify the specific material that an object may have been used on, as this microscope did not have suitable magnification and resolution for such determination by the author. Possible macroscopic traces of use in the form of edge damage, was also observed on the photos of three other axe hoards. However, given that the author has not been able to analyze these objects in person, these observations are very preliminary and ought to be confirmed in the future.

are then combined with used objects. Initially, this was only noted for the hoard from Snyggatorp. Of the 15 blades deposited here, only two do not show any macroscopically visible evidence of use. The remaining 13 have been retouched, edge-damaged and display macroscopically visible polish on the lateral edges (Salomonsson 1956). This polish, which was only macroscopically observed, was initially used in dating this deposit to the Neolithic (Salomonsson 1956). Recently, Sjöström (2004, 44) has, however, reinterpreted this deposit, as well as the hoards described below from Björkeröds fällad and Husted Mose as dating to the Kongemose, based on similarities to known Kongemose hoards. Sjöström (ibid) also observed that of the 72 blades found in the hoard from Björkeröds fällad, 32 had been retouched and only 8 had no edge damage from use. The high degree of edge damage suggests that most of these blades had either been heavily used or used on a harder material. The results of the first micro-wear analysis of a Mesolithic hoard from Bökeberg III also indicated the deposition of used and seemingly unused

Unlike Neolithic hoards, which are often considered to contain unused and unusable axes, the results from the usewear analysis indicate that Mesolithic hoards often contain objects that not only were useable but even have clear traces of use. Several hoards do include objects that due to the lack of use-wear traces appear to be unused, but these 113

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Figure 10.10. Hoard from Maglelyng XL and series of striations running perpendicular to edge of one of the flake axes in the hoard (Photo: Author).

evidence of use, although it is possible that the weathering on them obscured any possible micro-wear traces.

objects being deposited together. Of the five blades in this hoard, all from the same core, only one showed any evidence of use, which was from working plant fibres (Knarrström 2001).

Due to the lightness and the coarse grained nature of the flint, it was not possible to identify any clear microscopic use-wear traces, in the form of identifiable polish, on the two core axes and flint pick form Sølund (Rasmussen et al. 2014). However, possible edge nibbling was visible on the core axes and possible edge damage was observed on the butt of the flint pick, showing possible usage. (Figure 10.11). No macroscopic or microscopic traces from use were observed on the flint pick, also found in this hoard, but once again it should be noted that potential use-wear traces are likely obscured by the flint quality.

The use-wear analysis performed by the author on a selection of objects from hoards dating from the Maglemose to the end of the Ertebølle, also showed this apparent pattern of objects with use-wear traces and possibly unused objects being deposited together. Of the four axes that were analysed from the Ertebølle hoard of Maglelyng XL that also contained three cores (Larsson 1978, 164), only the two flake axes had evidence of use in the form of edge damage. In addition, one of these two axes had a series of striations perpendicular to the edge (Figure 10.10). Furthermore, one of the flake axes had possible transport or hafting wear on a prominent area on the dorsal side. The other two axes in the hoard are core axes, and these had no macro or microscopically visible

Due to time restrictions, only a single blade out of 14 blades from one of the Kongemose hoards from Husted Mose (Sjöstrom 2014, 44) was analysed for micro-wear using the Dino-Lite microscope (Figure 10.12). All of the

Figure 10.11. Slight edge chipping on the core axes from Sølund (Photo: Author).

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Figure 10.12. Hoard from Husted Mose (left) and photograph of edge damage and possible polish on the distal end of the proximal fragment of a blade (fourth from the right) from the same hoard (right) (Photos: Author).

from the knapping sequence are missing. Two retouched blades and one edge damaged blade were analysed using the Dino-Lite, and all had traces of use either in the form of polish, striations or clustering edge damage (Figure 10.13B). In addition, the sandstone pebble had grinding marks and facets on both ends (Figure 10.13C). None of the other blades had any macroscopically visible use-wear traces, possibly representing another example of used and unused objects being deposited together.

blades in this hoard appear to have been knapped from the same material, likely even the same core but none appear to refit together. One of these blades had a medial break with both fragments present. This blade also seemed to have micro-retouch on the distal right lateral side, and was therefore chosen for further analysis. This indicated that the blade had possible polish on the distal left lateral side and edge damage in the same area continuing from the distal break to the medial break. None of the other blades have any macroscopically identifiable traces of use, so it is likely that the blades in this hoard also had different use-lives.

The other object with clear use-wear traces is the hammerstone made from a small weathered lump of frost-fractured flint. This unusual flint hammerstone had been retouched at the distal end to make it narrower. The distal end has become highly rounded and irregular due to its repeated use to hit a hard material causing extensive crushing of the flint on both the distal end and on the two lateral edges (Figure 10.13D). Equally, such percussion marks could have been done intentionally so that this could be used as a form of a scraper (Uffe Rasmussen, pers.

Another hoard also found at Husted Mose was analysed for micro and macro-wear traces. This hoard contained 11 unretouched blades, two blades with distal retouch, a small sandstone pebble, a hammer stone and two lumps of pyrite (Sjöstrom 2004, 44) (Figure 10.13A). Many of the blades in this deposit, including the retouched and unretouched blades, refit together, although some blades

Figure 10.13. A) Kongemose hoard from Husted Mose, B) traces of edge damage, and possible polish and striations on one of the blades, C) abrasions traces on pebble and D) extensive crushing, damage and rounding seen on the side and end of the flint hammerstone (Photos: Author).

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Figure 10.14. Photo of two late Ertebølle axes from Hindbygården with stacked macro-photos taken at 50x magnification of the edges of each axe showing the clustered edge damage characteristic of repeated use on a hard material (Photos: Author).

the blade portion of the axe. This pointed-axe also had possible edge damage near the butt, similar to one of the picks from Sølund.

comm.). Possible traces of edge rounding were observed on some of the ridges of this crushing which could support this re-interpretation of such tools acting as scrapers not hammerstones.

Based on the difference in the macroscopically visible polish on the two Late Ertebølle t-shaped antler axes found at Ullerslev (NM A 11058–59), it appears that these axes were used on different materials and for different durations (Figure 10.15). One of the axes had extensive and very well developed polish extending c. 7 cm in from the blade and on all sides of the axe. Furthermore, this axe has large fractures both at the base and near the blade. It is not possible to conclusively determine if these fractures are pre or post-depositional, however such fractures and the

In contrast to the above, other hoards contained only objects with clear traces of use. For example the two core axes, one with a specialised edge along with one with a pointed butt found at Hindbygården (Berggren 2007, 115– 117) had significant edge damage (Figure 10.14). On one of them, the edge damage was so extensive that the blade was almost rounded, and there was even some further rounding of the flake scars. The other axe had much larger flakes taken off the edge and was even missing part of

Figure 10.15. Two t-shaped Late Ertebølle antler axes from the hoard from Ullerslev and macrophotos of the different polish development on the antler axes (image on left is of the axe from the top with c. 0.5cm of polish development along edge, and image on right is the axe on the bottom which has much more extensive polish development on all sides of the axe, extending c. 7cm in from the edge (Photos: Author).

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A relational perspective on entangled biographies in Southern Scandinavian Mesolithic hoards possible hafting polish seen on two of the axes, the resharpening of one of the axes, the slight edge rounding on one or two of the axes and the fact that one of the axes was re-used as a hammerstone. Thus, there can be little doubt that these axes were used and that the use and re-use was extensive in many cases. The sixth axe was not available for study, however based on the photographs provided by the finder this also had edge damage, suggestive of use.

invasive and extensive polish, match use-wear that could result from using the axe to split wood (Mikkel Sørensen, pers. comm). The other axe displays polish that extends only c. 0.5 cm in from the edge, and it is entirely complete with only a hairline fracture running c. 4 cm in from the blade. Not only does the use-wear differ between the two axes, the antler also originates from different red deer. It is also evident that the axes are slightly different forms, the techniques used to cut the tines and the beam differ, the position of the shaft hole differs and based on the diameter and the cross section of the shaft hole, a different borer was seemingly used to drill the holes. Based on this combined evidence, it is likely that these two antler axes had vastly different biographies; apparently produced from different raw material sources by different producers or at different times and they even had very different use-lives.

Likewise, in the hoard of five round-butted axes from the Maglemose settlement of Anderstorp (Persson 1997, 15–16) at least three of the axes based on the published photo have edge damage suggestive of use (Figure 10.16). One has a large break on of the corner of the blade and another, a large concave fracture in the centre of the blade. This is a typical fracture of greenstone axes. The last axe has a highly rounded edge with extensive crushing along much of the observable blade, and thus like many other Mesolithic hoards, these axes all seem to have very different biographies.

Similarly, the greenstone round-butted axes (Danish: trindøkser) found in the hoard from Stavns (SMT0215 – Samsø Museum) all showed evidence of use-wear (Figure 10.16a). This possible hoard, which likely dates to the Ertebølle, was found on the surface on ploughed soil, so it is possible that some of this damage is post-depositional. However, many of the observed traces of use could not have been post-depositional, such as for example the

Three Late Ertebølle Limhamn axes found together at the old Simrishamn churchyard (Rydbeck 1918, 51–52) (Figure 10.17) all appeared to have been used prior to their deposition due to the edge damage present on the axeheads.

Figure 10.16. Left – Hoard of greenstone round-butted axes found as a surface find at Stavns (Modified from photos: Per Lars Christiansen and Media Moesgaard, Søren Vestergaard) and Right – hoard of five greenstone round-butted axes from Anderstorp (Photo: Annie Rosén, Jönköping county museum).

Figure 10.17. Photos of the front and back of the three Limhamn axes found at Simrishamn with traces of re-sharpening on the first axe and edge damage on the other two axes, with the rightmost axe having extensive edge damage (Modified from photos: Ulrika Wallebom, Österlens Museum).

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Mathias Bjørnevad-Ahlqvist on micro-denticulates from the Mesolithic and Neolithic. Unfortunately, it is so far unknown what material or use causes the characteristic polish 23. The other blade with diagnostic use-wear traces had polish and striations indicative of cutting hard material, possibly wood.

Like with the aforementioned axehead hoards, the degree of damage on the objects differs, which suggests that they may have been used to various degrees or on different materials. Furthermore, based on the notable difference in the shape of these axes it is also possible that they were produced by different individuals like the previously mentioned axe hoards from Ullerslev, Sølund, and Holbo, thus contributing to the relational importance of the hoard. However, as these observations are just based on available photographs the results are to be considered preliminary.

During use-wear analysis it was noted that the single flake in the hoard had a narrow area of very steep retouch on the distal end. In this area some edge rounding and polish indicative of dry-hide was observed. Thus, this flake was likely used as a narrow hide scraper. The remaining blades either had, weakly developed undiagnostic possible usewear traces or any use-wear traces obscured by varying degrees of weathering and patination. This is expanded upon later.

Based on the use-wear analysis using a Nikon eclipse LV150 metallurgical microscope, it was observed that one of the hoards from the Ertebølle site of Siggård (SiggårdEGS) contained a combination of tools used on different materials and for different functions. This hoard was found with the objects tightly clustered together in a small pit that contained nine blades and one flake, including two refitting blades (Søren H. Andersen, pers. comm.) (Figure 10.18). All of the blades were analysed, however, only two of the blades and one flake had any diagnostic use-wear traces. One of these blades had polish and edge rounding on one edge that could have been caused by being held or hafted in hide. The opposing edge had traces of the so-called polish 23, which is the same polish seen

Another blade hoard Siggård-FVJ, (Figure 10.18), found ca. 5cm above the previously discussed hoard (SiggårdEGS) (Søren H. Andersen, pers. comm.) also contained objects used on different materials and for different tasks. Only one blade in this hoard had any diagnostic traces of hide polish, on one edge possibly from being held or hafted in hide, whereas the other edge had significant edge damage, edge rounding as well as some polish suggestive of use on hide. However, the presence of this severe edge

Figure 10.18. Three Ertebølle hoards from Siggård, EGS (top), FVJ (left) and FX (right) (Photos: Author).

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biographies. These results indicate that there was no idealized specific biography of the objects contained within the hoards and that a wide variety of different pathways could culminate in an object deposited in a hoard. However, it is notable that almost all of the hoards contain at least one and often multiple, used objects, contrary to what is often assumed for prehistoric hoards. Perhaps the use-life was an important part of this practice, given the observations from previously analysed hoards also attesting that Mesolithic hoards often contain objects with different use-life biographies (Salomonsson 1956; Knarrström 2001; Sjöström 2004, 44). The used nature of these objects would have impacted the relational significance of the objects, as well as the entire hoard, based on the events and people surrounding the use of the objects. In addition, the variability of the life histories within individual hoards and between different hoards can be expected, as relational significance is individually perceived and understood. The material outcome of such practices should likewise be expected to be idiosyncratic.

The third blade hoard from Siggård-FX (Figure 10.18), found elsewhere on the Ertebølle shell midden, contained three blades and a flake core that appears to have been re-used as a scraper (Søren H. Andersen, pers. comm.). The blades that are found in this hoard do not appear to have been produced from the core, as the flake scars on the core do not match the blades, and the flakes that were detached from the core, were much more irregular than the hoarded blades. The use-wear analysis of the three blades indicates that at least two had been used on dryhide based on the presence of edge rounding, diagnostic polish and striations. The third blade also showed some edge rounding and undiagnostic polish development. The presence of these blades, used to work hide, and a core scraper could suggest that this was a type of hide working toolkit, Thus, contrary to the other hoards from Siggård, the objects in this hoard seem to have been used to work the same material. However, the presence of a core first used to produce flakes and then re-worked into a scraper, does indicate that objects from at least two different activities are presented in this hoard.

Different degrees of curation Another aspect of some of hoards that indicates that the combination of different biographies is a tendency for Mesolithic hoards is that they include objects that have been curated to different degrees. In this section, the term curated describes how objects were being kept, stored or transported prior to their final deposition. How extensive this period of time was, is often impossible to know. However, in some cases, like the above described antler hoard from Ageröd V, it can be determined that this differential curation extended over at least several months. In other hoards, the curation may have been much shorter and may have been just enough time for objects to develop use-wear traces or for objects to have to become collected together. In these cases, the prior observation of hoards containing objects produced from different sources or from different individuals, can also be seen as evidence of differential curation of objects either by an individual or circulated between individuals.

Another hoard that was analysed using the Nikon eclipse LV150 metallurgical microscope was the Late Maglemose hoard from Arreskov Sø (OBM269 – Odense Bys Museer) (see Figure 10.23), containing a flint chisel or core axe, and three other core axes. One is very typically shaped whereas the other two are oddly triangular in shape and there is some uncertainty whether these are, in fact, axes. Unfortunately the edges on these objects had been removed, see below, thus removing any potential traces of use along the edges. Furthermore, the axes are highly lustred with an almost desert-like polish, which matches the sandy context in which they are found.

Previously, the different skill levels shown in the manufacturing of objects found within a few hoards was interpreted as evidence of the objects being produced by multiple individuals. An alternative interpretation could be that the objects were produced by the same individual at different stages of their skill development. Thus, the accumulation of objects produced by a single individual would be evidence that the objects were curated for long enough that the individual further developed their knapping or bone working skill level.

Unfortunately, this weathering made the positive identification of observable use-wear traces very difficult, however even with this weathering, possible traces of wood working was observed on the corner of one of the axes near the edge. One of the triangular shaped axes also had possible edge rounding and edge crushing along the medial portion of the lateral edge on one side of the axe. The cause of this edge rounding is unclear, but given that several of the axes had bright flat spots and rippling on their high points, perhaps this edge rounding could have been from hafting – or maybe it stems from other unknown uses of the object.

Direct evidence of differential curation of the objects within the hoard of Sølund, was observed during the use-wear analysis using the Dino-lite microscope. It was noted that the two core axes and one pick had traces of edge rounding and possible polish on isolated areas of the lateral ridges, which varied between the three objects. In particular, it was noted that the flint pick had more

The above described use-wear analysis arguably provides the some of the clearest evidence for the propensity of hoards to include objects with different biographies, as well as the widely variable nature of their entangled 119

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Figure 10.19. Examples of edge rounding and possible polish development on the lateral edges of the pick (Photos: Author).

edge rounding (Figure 10.19) than the core axes (Figure 10.20). This edge rounding which sporadically extends along much of the lateral edges in isolated spots, primarily the prominent ridges, is interpreted to have formed from repeated rubbing against a relatively soft material, perhaps dryhide – if they were wrapped and transported. As these objects were fairly recently excavated in 2014 (Rasmussen et al. 2014), have not been moved since excavation and have been separately bagged and then carefully placed in a box, it is unlikely that such transport traces could have formed since excavation. Given the variability between objects of the development of possible transport traces, it could indicate that the objects were curated and circulated for different lengths of time during the Mesolithic. The differential curation of objects within the same hoard could have embedded these objects with different relational significances, based on the duration of curation, how they were curated, who were they curated by, the reasons

behind the curation, as well as the moment they began to be actively used, displayed, circulated, gathered together and deposited. A few of the hoards also contain objects with distinctly different degrees of weathering and patination indicating that some of the objects had been previously deposited, became weathered and then were collected and redeposited with fresher un-weathered material. This was first noted by Brinch Petersen (Brinch Petersen 2015, 79) in a hoard of 12 bundled blades found on the dryland at the site of Gøngehusvej 7 (See Figure 10.1). Brinch Petersen noted that some of these blades had been water rolled prior to their deposition, whereas others appeared entirely fresh. A similar situation was noted during use-wear analysis of one the hoards from Siggård (EGS) that contained 9 blades and a flake scraper. Also here, some blades were completely un-patinated and un-weathered whereas

Figure 10.20. Examples of edge rounding and possible polish development on the lateral edges of the two core axes (Photos: Author).

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Figure 10.21. Examples of the different degrees of weathering seen on the blades found in the hoard from Siggård-EGS. The blade on the left has no signs of weathering and was likely deposited not long after being produced. On the other hand, the blade on the right is highly weathered, with the surface appearing very matte and cloudy, likely from being deposited ventral side up in an area with water movement (Photos: Author).

others had well-developed patination. One blade was highly weathered, characteristic of being in a watery environment. Interestingly, none of the other blades show a similar form of weathering. It is noteworthy that the hoard was deposited in a small pit on the dryland in a shell midden (Figure 10.21). Thus, at least one of the blades had been deposited in a wetland environment, had then been collected, and was re-deposited with fresh blades that had been used for a variety of different tasks.

then redeposited together, or as having blades added over multiple events leading to different degrees and forms of patina and weathering (Jennbert 2017). It is also clear from the different types of flint present, that these blades were produced from many different cores and possibly by different individuals - given the variability in the form and quality of the blades in the hoard. It cannot be determined if the redeposited blades had been intentionally curated or if it was simply an opportunistic deposition of available material. It is also possible that particular old and the new objects had been specifically chosen based on the material properties, transformed qualities or embedded relationships connected to their prior life histories. Thus, even their prior depositional and curatorial phases could have subsequently transformed the relational significance of the objects and the hoard as a whole.

Another possible instance of re-deposition could be seen in the hoard of 72 flint blades found at Björkeröds fällad (Figure 10.22). Based on the remarkable variability in the weathering of, the still surviving, 32 blades (the other blades having been lost) these have been interpreted as either, originally deposited in different conditions and

Figure 10.22. 31 of the flint blades found at Björkeröds fällad. Note the different forms of flint, patination, weathering, degree of rolling, shape of the blades and the presence of extensive edge nibbling, on some of the blades (Photo: Anders Wihlborg in Jennbert 2017).

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pers. comm.) (Figure 10.23) may also contain intentionally destroyed objects. All of these objects seem unusable as edges were removed by repeated flaking parallel to the edge. This edge removal technique can be used to resharpen such core tools, but this knapping left their edges too irregular and too obtuse to be used as axes. The axes were left too short to likely have been re-sharpened any further. It is not clear whether this should be viewed as intentional destruction, but like the example from Tågerup, the axes were deposited in an unusable state and there seemed little intent to have these as re-usable objects.

The relational significance of an object can be further altered by physically or symbolically transforming the object or hoard as a whole. Such transformation of objects can take many different forms. Some of aspects described above, such as the production, circulation, use and curation, can be viewed as transformations. In addition, a few hoards seem to contain objects that have been physically transformed by destruction. Importantly, in most of these hoards only some of the objects are destroyed whereas others are left intact.

This is not the only Mesolithic axe hoard that appears to contain axes intentionally damaged. Another possible example of this can be seen at the Sadarna hoard at the site of Timmerås (c. 7550–6700 cal. BC) where two greenstone axes were found at the bottom of a pit (Hernek 2005, 274, 267–8) (Figure 10.24A). One of these axes has an extremely damaged edge, with at least two large fractures on either corner of the edge. The other axe has a more typical concave fracture on the centre of the edge. This form of concave break is often found on greenstone axes and is likely from use. However, due to the extent of the fractures on the other axe and with damage appearing to occur from two different angles, this is unlikely to have been normal use, and is interpreted, by the current author, to be likely intentional destruction of the edge. At the same site, two apparent intentionally fragmented pestles, were also found (Figure 10.24B). They had been placed in the

One potential example is the heavily burnt flint pick and a core axe found in the Kongemose area of Tågerup (Karsten and Knarrström 2003, 95). Although it is unclear if the flint pick was burnt intentionally, the burning would likely have left the pick unusable. This is the only known Mesolithic hoard in Southern Scandinavia containing a burnt object, however, there is increasing evidence that burning, often combined with unburnt material, may have been an integral feature of certain Mesolithic ritualised practices such as mortuary rituals, treatment of animal remains and also the deposition of single objects (e.g. Bradley 1998, 2; Karsten and Knarrström 2003, 196–210; Eriksen and Andersen 2016; Sørensen 2016). The Late Maglemose hoard of three core axes and an axe/ chisel found in a pit at Arreskov Sø (Mogens Bo Henriksen,

Figure 10.23. Four core axes that have had their edges removed found at Arreskov Sø (Photo: Media Moesgaard, Søren Vestergaard).

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Figure 10.24. A) The hoards from Timmerås containing two round-butted pecked stone axes and B) two intentionally fragmented pestles also found at Timmerås (Photos: Robert Hernek, Bohusläns Museum).

same level of a hearth and were positioned with the broken end of each pestle facing in opposing directions.

together with some, now decomposed, organic material and deposited in the refuse layer. Fortunately, this deposit was carefully excavated and recorded. It was, therefore, possible to determine, that the microliths had been broken prior to deposition and prior to being bundled, as refitting fragments were often separated both horizontally and vertically within the deposit. Most of the microliths had only been broken once, often transversely across the centre or near the proximal end, but three of the microliths had been broken multiple times. The high degree of transverse

A prime example of the differential destruction of objects can be seen in the Maglemose hoard from Ageröd I:B (Figure 10.1 and 10.25). This hoard contained 33 microliths of which 15 were complete, with the remaining microliths fragmented into 41 pieces (Figure 10.25) (Larsson 1978, 67–70). These microliths were neatly bundled together in a 3cm x 5cm area and were interpreted to have been wrapped

Figure 10.25. Drawing of the microliths found in the hoard from Ageröd I:B (Redrawn by Helene Blichfeldt after Larsson 1978, 65, fig. 35).

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Mathias Bjørnevad-Ahlqvist breaks coupled with the presence of radial fractures on two of the microliths, coupled with the fact that they were broken prior to bundling and deposition, could indicate that they were intentionally destroyed, likely by being struck with a hard object (cf. Jennings 2011).

of the deposition. The relational and biographical approach views hoards as a process rather than a fixed individual event of deposition. As social entanglements of objects and their relational significance, can form and change, during different life stages, a biographical approach is necessary to be able to more thoroughly understand this dynamic. The relational significance refers to both the value of an object based on its social entanglements and to the relational role of the objects. The relational role may be understood as the ability of an object to act upon other objects (especially those within the hoard), persons (including non-human persons), places, etc. This agency can be tied to both the innate material properties of the specific object or object type, as well as the embedded relationships. When objects, especially those with different relational significances are bundled together, they can act upon each other to create something entirely new that is more than merely a combination of its constituent parts (Zedeño 2008). In other instances, the importance of these hoards may have been directly tied to the individual social entanglements included within the hoard (Baltus 2018).

These hoards are not the only hoards that contain fragmented objects: Several of the MaglemoseKongemose blade hoards found at Rönneholm-Ageröd (e.g. Sjöström and Hammarstrand Dehman 2009; Sjöström and Hammarstrand Dehman 2015, see Figure 10.6) contain fragmented blades, and two of the Maglemose and Kongemose bone point hoards from Mosegården III øst (see Figure. 10.9C), and Øgårde 8 (Andersen 1983, Fig. 34) contain broken bone points. In addition, a Late Maglemose-Early Kongemose hoard from Porskjær Bakker contained at least seven intact and two fragmented axes, some found in situ and others found eroded, in a coastal sandy cliff (Klaus Hirsch, pers. comm.). It is unclear if the latter examples were intentionally broken or had become fragmented during manufacturing, transport or through use. However, they attest to the fact that fragmentary objects were often included into hoards, a feature that suggests that they were likely not simply stored for later use. Furthermore, it is noteworthy that most of the damaged objects were deposited with intact objects, once again supporting the interpretation that the combination of objects with different biographies was an integral feature of Mesolithic hoarding.

This holistic approach to these deposits encourages us to consider the potentially long and complex series of practices that came before the deposition of a hoard. These chains of practices start from the moment the material is acquired, and change throughout the life of the objects as it circulates and moves between individuals and different spheres by being used, transformed, displayed, hidden, curated, and as it is combined together to form an assemblage that is eventually deposited together. Initially the hoards may appear to be highly idiosyncratic and perhaps unrelated events based on the significant variability within the composition and the context, however when the preceding practices are identified via the biographical approach, some repeated aspects and common features emerge. This might be termed material cultural patterning, which can be evidence for a strategy of ritualisation (cf. Bradley 1984, Garrow 2012, Berggren 2010, Berggren and Stutz 2010). Material cultural patterning can be identified by looking for patterning in the deposition and treatment of particular prehistoric material either inter-or intra-site (Garow 2012). In the case of Mesolithic hoards, it is likely evident in the predominance of hoards that contain a combination of objects within different biographies. Mesolithic material cultural patterning appears to be based on object and hoard biographies and the creation of relational assemblages, rather than the deposition of certain object types in particular contexts, with these thought processes seen here to underpin the hoarding practice. The formalised act of collecting the individual objects, combining the assemblage together and then depositing the hoards was also part of an extended performance, likely with meaning and importance generated through all of these diverse actions (Bell 1992, Berggren and Stutz 2010).

Making sense of the variability: the application of relational ontologies How do we make sense of the highly variable treatment of the objects, prior to and peri, deposition? The relational approach used in the current paper is based on Native American ontologies that have seen similar use by Baltus (2018) and Baires and Baltus (2016). Stated simply, a relational approach to archaeological objects “focusses on the social relations as well as materiality of the object” (Baltus 2018). The social relationships that the objects take part in might be viewed as a network of entanglements (sensu Hodder 2012) that can be created and maintained in a multitude of ways. Some of these may be archaeologically identifiable and can include, though not necessarily limited to, the source, circulation, exchange, production, transformation, use, accumulation, curation and deposition. This recalls many of the findings from the above and it is interpreted here that the objects found in hoards were specifically chosen based on a single or the combination of multiple material aspects or social entanglements. In this paper, I argue that it is the formation of relational significances and the bringing together of the objects together to form bundled collections (Zedeño 2008; Joy 2016) that may be one of the intentions of the hoarding practice. It should be noted that a relational significance of an object or a hoard does not mean that they could not have been intended to be retrieved and re-used in the future, nor does it presume any intended permanence or ritual nature

This paper has taken into account as many aspects of the hoarding practice, as possible; including the biography, temporality, and materiality of the individual objects and the hoard as a whole. Importantly, the approach brings the 124

A relational perspective on entangled biographies in Southern Scandinavian Mesolithic hoards people behind the objects into the picture as their actions and intentions are considered. Naturally, it is impossible to identify specific relationships enchained to particular objects, as the relational value of an object is highly individualised, individually perceived and cannot be fully understood from an etic viewpoint. Furthermore, as many aspects of an object’s biography are archaeologically invisible or leave unclear traces, any subsequent relational significances related to these biographical stages will be impossible to identify or understand. Thus, the emphasis is not on understanding all of the specific embedded relationships, rather our task is here, to identify and hypothesise about the role and importance of observable relationships and associations.

un-nuanced and, at worst, wrong impression of prehistoric hoarding practices. Such approaches run the risk of leading to over simplistic and dichotomous interpretations, such as profane vs sacred, waste vs treasure, usable vs unusable, etc. As a counterpoint to such interpretive approaches the current paper has used a novel combination of approaches to treat hoards not as static singular entities, but rather an agential assemblage of objects. Each of these objects, as well as the combined hoard itself, are considered on their own premises. The biographical and relational approach has aided in identifying and interpreting previously overlooked patterning and key features of Mesolithic hoarding practices as well as explaining the high degree of variability present. The discussions above provide a new perspective and methodology for identifying forms of strategies for ritualization, for hoarding practices that go past seeing the hoards as simply a group of deposited objects. The approach has also highlighted how hoarding practices may have been understood during the Mesolithic through a relational ontological perspective, and how this effectively explains the high degree of idiosyncrasy present. If this premise is accepted, it indicates that a similar ontological mind-set underlying this practice extended across the entire Mesolithic of Southern Scandinavia, a duration more than 5000 years. This is a remarkable realisation worthy of further examination in the future, however it is clear that Mesolithic hoards are more than just a problematic, idiosyncratic material; they are key part to our understanding of Mesolithic mind-set, world view and society.

Ethnographic analogies show that often the exact meaning of ritualised practices is neither fully understood, nor consistently recognised by members of the same group or between groups (e.g. Bloch 2005, 39–45). However, there does appear to be some universalities in the function of ritualised practices. These have little to do with the actual intent, or the emically perceived meaning of the practices, and thus steer clear of some of the issues that rely on ethnographic analogies or modern preconceptions. Rather they are based on core cognitive functions within the human brain where the performance of such practices act as mechanisms for increasing social cohesion (e.g. Sosis and Alcorta 2003; Sosis 2004; Atran and Henrich 2010; Watson-Jones and Legare 2016) and memorialisation (e.g. De Boeck 1995; McAauley 2001; Petersen 2013; Xygalatas et al. 2013). By combining these perspectives with the relational ontology framework, I argue that the ritualised hoarding practices likely also acted as a mechanism to maintain, negotiate, strengthen and objectify various forms of relationships within the individual objects, the hoard itself, the persons involved with the practice as well as the time and place of its deposition.

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Concluding remarks

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BAR IN TERNATIONA L SE RIE S 2991 ‘The Life Biography of Artefacts and Ritual Practice constitutes an important contribution to our knowledge on the role of artefacts found next to the dead or in sites interpreted by archaeologists as ritual. This volume collects data from a geographical area where the archaeological record is extremely rich and diverse, providing novel approaches and interpretations on the symbolic significance of objects, their lifecycles and their ultimate purpose.’ Dr Ana Cristina Reis Silva Araújo, CIBIO

Inspired by a session held at the EAA conference in Vilnius in 2016, The Life Biography of Artefacts and Ritual Practice focuses on creating biographies from material culture as a means of understanding the relationship between the life of an artefact, the temporality of ritual practices and an object’s final deposition. The temporal and geographic scope of these chapters range from Mesolithic Scandinavia, Neolithic practices found across Eastern, Central, Northern and Western Europe and stretches into the Eneolithic, Copper Age and early Bronze Age of Central Europe. This volume explores the idea that one can create a narrative of an artefacts’ life-biography by engaging various scientific methods and theoretical approaches. Foreword by Joshua Pollard. Mathias Bjørnevad-Ahlqvist completed his PhD at the University of Aarhus in 2019. This research focused on the biography of Mesolithic and Neolithic ritual hoarding. Mathias also has wider interests including the application of cognitive science of religion, analysis of legacy material and Native American objects in Danish regional museums. Peter Bye-Jensen completed his PhD at the University of Southampton/Cardiff University in 2019. The focus of this research was the nature and temporality of the activities centred around early Neolithic monuments, specifically causewayed enclosures. Peter now works as Heritage Manager for The Cabrach Trust, a community development organisation in North Eastern Scotland, where his role involves exploring the region’s rich but little-known whisky distilling heritage. List of contributors: Mathias Bjørnevad-Ahlqvist, Pavel Burgert, Adomas Butrimas, Peter Bye-Jensen, Marzena Cendrowska, Roman Hadacz, Ludmila Kaňáková, Raluca Kogălniceanu, Markéta Končelová, Bernadeta Kufel-Diakowska, Joanna KałużnaCzaplińska, Lars Larsson, Marta Mozgała-Swacha, Jaroslav Řídký, Tomas Rimkus, Angelina Rosiak, Gvidas Slah, Henryk Stoksik, Radka Šumberová, Kata Szilágyi.

Printed in England