Byways in British Archaeology

by Walter Johnson

Fig. 60. Specimens of the fossil sponge Porosphaera (= Coscinopora) globularis, with orifices artificially enlarged.

A, B, C, sections of the fossil; A, with hole artificially enlarged at both ends; B, in the middle; C, at one end only. D, E, F, show the natural shapes of Porosphaera, and the attempts made to enlarge the openings. H, J, K, L, exhibit sections of the “beads,” which contained a little organic matter, probably the remains of the ligament by which the beads were strung. G is a perforated fossil shell.

the fossils were found in groups; thus precluding natural agencies as a cause of their occurrence. In ordinary circumstances, the fossils would be isolated and scattered throughout the gravels somewhat sparingly. Moreover, Mr James Wyatt, who examined over 200 specimens of Porosphaera, believed, from markings which were visible when sections were cut, that in several cases the hole had been artificially enlarged with a drill[761] ([Fig. 60]). To enumerate barrows which have yielded this particular fossil would be wearisome, but another globular fossil, the beautifully ornamented echinoderm known as Cidaris, deserves a note. Evans records his having seen specimens of this fossil bored so as to form part of a Saxon necklace, and, in other cases, to serve as spindle-whorls[762].

Among the other grave-mound fossils, those of cephalopods find a place. A considerable number of belemnites lay in a “large” [i.e. British or pre-Saxon] Dorsetshire barrow opened in the eighteenth century by Colonel Drax. Douglas, who saw the specimens, figures one of them in his Nenia Britannica[763]. Canon Greenwell found a portion of an ammonite lying beside a skeleton in one of the Yorkshire mounds[764]. It is well to remember that a black ammonite, of which the species is not stated, is associated with the religious ceremonies of the Brahmans, being regarded by the devout as the embodiment of Vishnu[765]. Some of the larger fish teeth, occurring as fossils, also come in our list. In a tumulus described by Dr Henry Woodward, the sides of the grave were lined with the teeth of Lepidotus (= Sphaerodus) gigas, a Mesozoic fish allied to the “bony pike” of North American lakes and rivers. In one case a locket-like arrangement was noticed, a kind of keyhole having been cut in the tooth[766]. I record this evidence, but not having seen the specimens referred to, cannot express an opinion on the individual example, and will merely say that the artificial nature of the hole is antecedently probable. But it is only right to add that doubt has been cast on the necessity of invoking human skill to explain certain of these orifices. Some species of boring mollusc may possibly have been the real agent. One recalls the controversy respecting the perforated sharks’ teeth of the Crag formation. To explain this feature, Mr H. A. Burrows suggested that the cavities originally represented hollows for the passage of blood-vessels, and that the perforations had been completed by subsequent friction and solution. It remains to be noted that the first collectors of fossil fish teeth lived in Palaeolithic times, since specimens, associated with flint flakes, were found at the celebrated “Palaeolithic floor” at Stoke Newington[767]. Similarly, fossil and “recent” shells, perforated for suspension, have been found in the Palaeolithic caves of France and Belgium[768]. A limestone cavern, opened by M. Dupont in the latter country in 1860, yielded a collection of fossil molluscan shells, including Cerithium, which must have been brought a distance of 40-50 miles. Accompanying the fossils were a piece of fluor spar and other curiosities, so that it has been suggested, with reason, as well as mirth, that here was a primitive museum[769]. British barrows have furnished specimens of the joints of encrinites (“sea-lilies”), known in folk-lore as “St Cuthbert’s beads[770].” In one case the specimen had actually been bored for stringing[771]. It is probable, indeed, that from the earliest ages men have never ceased to collect these beautiful little “beads.”

Land-and sea-shells, not usually so hard as the fossil species, have also been assiduously collected by early man for funeral gifts. It has been asserted that nearly every barrow on the Chalk Downs contains land-shells[772]. Limpet shells have been found under the megaliths of Cornwall and Brittany[773]. Saxon graves in Kent frequently yield, not only native land-and sea-shells, but also exotic cowries, which must have come from the East[774]. Necklaces made of the curious little shell, known from its shape as the “elephant’s tusk” (Dentalium), are recorded from barrows, and there is also a note of the discovery of the “Venus’s ear” (Haliotis)[775]. The catalogue might be extended, but it is already long enough to illustrate the topic under discussion.

Mention must be made of a parallel custom which was observed in Lapland in both ancient and modern times. Old Lappish graves opened near Varanger Fiord contained, besides our familiar quartz and flint, numbers of sea-urchins, presumably, though it is not explicitly so stated, belonging to recent species[776]. More interesting were the snail-shells, known by the Laplanders as Hundsjael, or “dog-souls,” and mussel-shells, or “cow-souls.” It seems that the natives, down to a comparatively recent period, treasured fossils and queerly-shaped stones as fetishes. Nordvi, who opened the graves, conjectured that the shells were substitutes for living dogs and cows, these animals being too precious for sacrifice[777]. This explanation is plausible as an explanation of this particular case. The natives of Ceylon, however, employed shells of a certain species for funeral purposes[778], and altogether the custom is too widely known to be explicable on narrow grounds. To round off these examples, we may note the strange cases reported from Frampton church, near Boston, in Lincolnshire. Several stone coffins, discovered in this church, were found to be filled with sand, together with the shells of cockles and other molluscans. The shells had evidently been placed in the receptacles by design, and as the bones had not perished, the speculation was put forward that the purpose of the shells was to preserve the skeleton[779]. This solution of the puzzle does not appear to be allowable, but the circumstances are certainly peculiar. The fact that the coffins were filled with material leads us to suspect that they had been tampered with at some unknown period[780]. Alternatively, we may suppose that the maritime folk of Frampton were especially given over to the belief in shells, and carried the principle to extremes. For the graves of sailors and fishermen are eminently marked out for shell decoration, though, it is true, these ornaments are now placed above ground. Frequently one reads of the practice being observed when a sailor dies in a strange land.

Our list of grave ornaments is by no means exhausted. Brooches and pins, armlets and bracelets, trinkets of gold or silver, perforated boars’ tusks and crescents of wolves’ teeth, are among the relics known to the barrow-digger. Oftentimes, the decorative and the useful objects lie side by side. We have already noticed Pliny’s allusion to mirrors. A valuable commentary is afforded by the old Swedish custom of depositing a looking-glass in the coffin of an unmarried woman[781]. Instances of the discovery of golden ornaments abound in archaeological handbooks. We look around for an instance of survival, and meet with a startling example of recent date. The incident took place at the funeral of Lord Palmerston in Westminster Abbey, in 1865, and is thus described by Mr Moncure D. Conway: “The rain fell heavily, the wind howled about the old walls, and in that darkness the body was lowered—gold rings along with dust falling on the coffin[782].” This story is of the provoking kind which makes the reader put questions, but Mr Conway, alas, has now also passed beyond the reach of inquiries, and we must be content with the definite statement, inherently probable, and made in all honesty. Perhaps light may come from a study of the practice of presenting rings at funerals to the mourners,—a custom frequently alluded to by John Evelyn in his Diary. Were these funeral gifts ever thrown into the grave as votive offerings?

With the foregoing incident we may compare the evidence given in the Victoria History of Cornwall, tending to show that the practice of burying rings, coins, and other articles, was common in Cornwall during the Mediaeval period and lasted until the latter part of the sixteenth century. Still more singular is the persistence of the practice of laying combs along with the other mortuary furniture. Wooden combs are not unusually found in settlements of the Bronze Age[783], and examples in bone are of common occurrence on Early Iron Age sites. It is believed, however, that some of these combs were employed, not for arranging the hair, but for pressing home the weft in the manufacture of fabrics[784]. But when we approach the Saxon period, we find the ordinary comb installed as a recognized grave gift. Contemporary burials on the Continent, in North France, in Luxembourg, in Belgium, tell the same story[785]. The Saxon combs, incised with lines and circles, were laid in the graves both of men and women. Turning to our Hydriotaphia, and reading once more of Browne’s discovery, in his beloved Norfolk, of “nippers” and “combs handsomely wrought[786],” we are tempted to pursue the matter. The sequel is curious: combs, in later history, appear to have been reserved for burials of members of the priestly order. The beginnings of the practice are seen as early as the days of St Cuthbert, on whose breast was found, when his body was disinterred in Durham Cathedral, a plain simple Saxon comb of ivory[787]. Later records are numerous, and it has been conjectured that the combs were those which had been used at the first tonsure of the novice[788]. The comb played an important part in Mediaeval ritual, as related by Dr Daniel Rock. These objects were of ivory, elaborately carved, and studded with gems. At the High Mass, the hair of the celebrant was combed by someone appointed for that purpose, this coadjutor varying according to the rank of his superior[789]. Mr Romilly Allen, in discussing the changes in the methods of sepulture brought about by the spread of Christianity, asserts that no objects were placed in the grave with the Christian dead[790]. This pronouncement, even when made by such a high authority, must not be accepted literally. Apart from the comb, ecclesiastics had other special articles buried with them. Mr Allen himself notices the striking exception of burying a crozier in the coffin of a bishop[791]. The chalice and paten were also commonly deposited with priests. Specimens of these articles, with a pair of scissors, were found in the coffin of St Cuthbert. Dr Rock tells us, too, that small wooden crosses, gilded with metal, were placed in the coffin, and on the breast of the corpse was a parchment scroll, inscribed with the Absolution. Again, while on the one hand, Professor Tylor has shown that the early Christians of Rome and Greece retained the heathen custom of placing in the tomb articles of toilet and children’s playthings[792]; on the other, records prove that in our own country there has always been a secret longing to place gifts in the grave. The truth seems to be that, down to our own day, there has existed among the more ignorant classes an undercurrent of belief, essentially pagan in its origin, usually driven under by the external pressure of orthodoxy and public opinion, but so strong and permanent, that it often reaches the surface, to the surprise of the more intelligent folk. But the heathen belief has been present all the time, and need not greatly astonish us, since the most advanced materialist is frequently a victim of trivial superstitions which are scouted by scientific men as absurd and baseless.

The fourth group of articles with which we have to deal, comprising objects partly useful and partly symbolical or commemorative, will not detain us long. The sole reason for considering this miscellaneous group separately is its diversified character—the objects do not so readily fall into classes. One or two modern examples will illustrate the kind of collection sometimes met with. While this chapter was being written, the daily newspaper supplied an account of the burial of a gipsy woman and her son at Tiverton. All the woman’s jewellery was deposited in her coffin, and, by the side of her son, the mourners laid his watch and chain. All the other personal effects were burned. A short time previously the same journal had recorded the funeral of an old mountain hermit at Carnarvon. The dead man was buried in his ordinary clothes, and with him were placed his pipe, his tobacco pouch and walking-stick. Only a whim, exclaims the careless reader, but the fancy was not bred for the first time in the brain of that old recluse. Other folk, not unobservant, recognize that such a miscellany of votive offerings is evidence of an older condition of culture, and that the variety of objects proves only the decay of tradition, with a consequent confusion of ideas. To some degree this is true, but the ethnologist and the archaeologist can decipher the meaning otherwise, and can show that primitive peoples love to offer a wealth of objects. First, the student of ethnology notices similar customs prevailing in many countries. The practice was well known to the ancients, and the translator of Ovid has thus rendered the idea:

“Tombs have their honours, too, our parents crave
Some slender present to adorn the grave....
They only ask a tile, with garlands crowned,
And fruit and salt to scatter on the ground.”