Archaeologia Cantiana, Volume CXLIII (2022)
Written By Jacob Scott
ARCHÆOLOGIA CANTIANA
CONTENTS
Ringlemere: investigation of prehistoric ring-ditches, M2 and M3.
By Keith Parfitt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Starting a new life as artisans and traders in Ricardian and Henrician Canterbury (c.1400 and c.1500) By Sheila Sweetinburgh . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Probable SFB at Market Inn site yields first secure evidence of Early Anglo- Saxon settlement at Faversham; some comparisons with other Kentish SFBs. By Patricia Reid . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The ‘Great Plague of London’ in Greenwich and Deptford, 1665-1666.
By Michael Zell and Jacqueline Davies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The Updown Anglo-Saxon cemetery: a revision of the site’s chronology using Correspondence Analysis. By Tim van Tongeren . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Knole House, Jack Cade and the ‘Battle of Solefields’.
By Gillian Draper . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The complex of Roman buildings excavated by MAAG at East Farleigh 2005-17: an interim report. By Stephen Clifton . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Iconography and Origin: a Twelfth-Century Limoges Enamel Plaque from Bayham Abbey in the British Museum. By Eleanor Wilson . . . . . . . . . . . .
Sculpture at the Green Court gateway of Canterbury Cathedral Priory.
By Rita Wood . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
‘For the honour of that ancient Metropolis’: William Somner’s, The Antiquities of Canterbury (1640). By Avril Leach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Kentish Duck Decoys. By Keith Robinson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
William Thornbury (d.1481), vicar of Faversham – and anchorite?
By David Lepine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The Isle of Thanet and the 1642 Protestation Oath.
By Margaret Bolton . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
What Archbishop Bourchier acquired in his 1456 Knole transaction.
By Stephen Draper . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
A rare Kentish example of a very early post-glacial flint-knapping site at Court
Stairs, Ramsgate. By Pete Knowles and Tim Allen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
New light on Stephen Gray, frs (1666-1736), Canterbury freeman dyer.
By Stephen Williamson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Excavations at Margetts Pit, Burham: large-scale manufacture of artefacts in late Bronze Age/early Iron Age. By Erica Gittins . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Researches and Discoveries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Reviews . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Kentish Bibliography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Obituaries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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ARCHÆOLOGIA CANTIANA
2022
2022 VOL. 143
www.kentarchaeology.org.uk
Kent Archaeological Society
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Archæologia Cantiana
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Images of Kent No. 18. Penshurst Place. From the KAS Library Collections (TC6).
Archæologia Cantiana
Being Contributions to the History and Archaeology of Kent
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VOLUME CXLIII 2022
Published by the
KENT ARCHÆOLOGICAL SOCIETY
Charitable Incorporated Organization no. 1176989
© 2022 Kent Archaeological Society ISSN 0066-5894
Produced for the Society by Past Historic, Kings Stanley, Gloucestershire Printed in Great Britain
CONTENTS
List of Officers and Members of Council vi-vii; Editorial Personnel vii;
Committees, etc. viii
Ringlemere: investigation of prehistoric ring-ditches, M2 and M3. By Keith Parfitt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Starting a new life as artisans and traders in Ricardian and Henrician Canterbury (c.1400 and c.1500). By Sheila Sweetinburgh . . . . . . .
Probable SFB at Market Inn site yields first secure evidence of Early Anglo-Saxon settlement at Faversham; some comparisons with other Kentish SFBs. By Patricia Reid . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The ‘Great Plague of London’ in Greenwich and Deptford, 1665- 1666. By Michael Zell and Jacqueline Davies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The Updown Anglo-Saxon cemetery: a revision of the site’s chron- ology using Correspondence Analysis. By Tim van Tongeren . . . .
Knole House, Jack Cade and the ‘Battle of Solefields’.
By Gillian Draper . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The complex of Roman buildings excavated by MAAG at East Farleigh, 2005-17: an interim report. By Stephen Clifton . . . . . . . .
Iconography and Origin: a Twelfth-Century Limoges Enamel Plaque from Bayham Abbey in the British Museum. By Eleanor Wilson .
Sculpture at the Green Court gateway of Canterbury Cathedral Priory. By Rita Wood . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
‘For the honour of that ancient Metropolis’: William Somner’s, The Antiquities of Canterbury (1640). By Avril Leach . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Kentish Duck Decoys. By Keith Robinson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
William Thornbury (d.1481), vicar of Faversham – and anchorite? By David Lepine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The Isle of Thanet and the 1642 Protestation Oath.
By Margaret Bolton . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
What Archbishop Bourchier acquired in his 1456 Knole transaction. By Stephen Draper . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
A rare Kentish example of a very early post-glacial flint-knapping site
at Court Stairs, Ramsgate. By Pete Knowles and Tim Allen . . . . . .
New light on Stephen Gray, frs (1666-1736), Canterbury freeman dyer. By Stephen Williamson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Excavations at Margetts Pit, Burham: large-scale manufacture of arte- facts in late Bronze Age/early Iron Age. By Erica Gittins . . . . . . .
Researches and Discoveries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Bronze Age river and pastoral life on the foreshore at Swalecliffe.
Extended continuity of late Iron Age landscape features revealed in archaeological investigations at Moat Road, Headcorn
Fieldwork in Kent undertaken by MOLA, 2019-20: summary reports
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19.
Reviews . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Nick Stoodley and Stephen R. Cosh. The Romano-British Villa
332
and Anglo-Saxon Cemetery at Eccles, Kent: A summary of the
excavations by Alec Detsicas with a consideration of the arch-
aeological, historical and linguistic context . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
332
Andrew Margetts. The Wandering Herd: The Medieval Cattle
Economy of South-East England c.450-1450 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
335
Stuart Bligh, Elizabeth Edwards and Sheila Sweetinburgh (eds).
Maritime Kent Through the Ages: Gateway to the Sea . . . . . . . .
336
Phil Betts. ‘An obscure and inconsiderable parish’: A History of
Frittenden . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
338
Jo Ahmet. 50 Finds from Kent: Objects from the Portable
20
Antiquities Scheme . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Kentish Bibliography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
339
341
21.
Obituaries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
350
22.
Notes on Contributors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
360
23.
General Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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Cover illustration: Reliquary Plaque, c.1170-1190, made at Limoges, probably associated with the tomb of crusader Robert de Turnham in Bayham Abbey. See article on pp. 158-180. Photo: ©The Trustees of the British Museum.
KENT ARCHAEOLOGICAL SOCIETY
officers and members of the council, 1st january 2022
President
PROF. K. BROWN, m.a. (cantab.), pg.dip.ch., ph.d., f.r.s.a.
Patrons
THE VISCOUNT DE L’ISLE, m.b.e.
THE COUNTESS SONDES
A.I. MOFFAT
J. WHYMAN, ph.d., b.sc. (econ.), assoc.cipd
PROF. D. KILLINGRAY
SIR ROBERT WORCESTER, k.b.e, d.l.
S.B. TOKSVIG, b.a, o.b.e.
J.M. HOLLAND, d.l., o.b.e.
Vice-Presidents
S.H. WILLIS, b.a., m.a., ph.d.
G. CRAMP, b.sc., ph.d.
S. SWEETINBURGH, b.a., m.a., ph.d.
Editor
T. G. LAWSON, m.a.(cantab), dip.kent.hist.
honeditor@kentarchaeology.org.uk
General Secretary Treasurer
Librarian
MRS R. G. SMALLEY, b.a., grad. dip. lib. sci., m.sc., m.a., dip. arch.
librarian@kentarchaeology.org.uk
Membership Secretary
Ms R. HILLS, b.a., m.a.
membership@kentarchaeology.org.uk
Curator
Dr E.D. BLANNING, b.a., m.a., ph.d.
curator@kentarchaeology.org.uk
Elected Members of the Council
C. Blair-Myers, f.g.s., f.b.c.s. Maidstone
L. Bosworth, b.a., m.a. Canterbury
P. Burton Charing
R. Chaplin, llb, llm Sittingbourne
S. Clifton Maidstone
M. Curtis Sevenoaks
E. Dixon, b.a., m.a. London
K.H. Kersey, b.a Bearsted
E. Knight, mcipp East Malling
E. Roberts Badlesmere
Editorial Personnel
Editor Terence Lawson
Book Reviews Editor Vacant
[All enquiries, including those relating to book reviews, to honeditor@kentarchaeology.org.uk]
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the permission of the Kent Archaeological Society.
COMMITTEES OF THE SOCIETY
chairman
secretary
contact email address
Education
E.A. Palmer
M. Green
lyn.palmer@kentarchaeology.org.uk
Fieldwork
K. Parfitt
S. Oldham
keith.parfitt@kentarchaeology.org.uk
Finance
Treasurer
treasurer@kentarchaeology.org.uk
Publications
S. Sweetinburgh
sheila.sweetinburgh@kentarchaeology.org.uk
special interest groups
Brand and Communications
N. Hammond
communications@kentarchaeology.org.uk
Ceramics
G. Cramp
ceramics@kentarchaeology.org.uk
County Pottery Reference Collection
C. Blair-Myers
pottery@kentarchaeology.org.uk
Churches
Clive Drew
J. Scott
clive.drew@kentarchaeology.org.
Historic Buildings
D.J. Goacher
D. Carder
deborah.goacher@kentarchaeology.org.uk
Historic Defences
V.T.C. Smith
P. Cuming
victor.smith@kentarchaeology.org.uk
Industrial Archaeology
J. Preston
industrial@kentarchaeology.org.uk
Lees Court Estate
Clive Drew
clive.drew@kentarchaeology.org.
Lithics Research Group
P. Knowles
lithics@kentarchaeology.org.uk
Marshes Study
P. Jardine Rose
paula.jardine-rose@kentarchaeology.org.uk
Place Names
Dr M. Bateson
A.L. Thompson
mark.bateson@kentarchaeology.org.uk
Social Media
C. Boughton
celia.boughton@kentarchaeology.org.uk
Safeguarding
Ann Watson
safeguarding@kentarchaeology.org.uk
Members are invited to forward any enquiries regarding the activities of individual committees/ groups using the email address given. Any member who feels that his/her knowledge and experience would be useful to any particular committee(s)/group(s) is encouraged to make contact.
RINGLEMERE: INVESTIGATION OF PREHISTORIC RING-DITCHES, M2 AND M3
keith parfitt
Metal-detecting in a field at Ringlemere Farm near Sandwich in 2001 led to the discovery of a spectacular Early Bronze Age gold cup (Parfitt 2003; Needham et al. 2006). The vessel was found on a low rise that was soon identified as the remains of a round barrow. Full excavation of this monument (M1) was made a collaborative project between the Canterbury Archaeological Trust and the British Museum. Investigations were completed in 2006 and an interim report, including a description of the gold cup, followed in Archaeologia Cantiana cxxvii (Parfitt and Needham 2007). That account is now superseded by a detailed monograph containing a revised interpretation and chronology of the complex sequence of prehistoric remains revealed (Parfitt and Needham 2020).
Ground survey and aerial photograph analysis conducted across the surrounding area showed that other barrows had formerly existed nearby; apparently a whole barrow cemetery had been all but erased from the landscape by centuries of ploughing. In order to better understand the main monument, some examination of these other sites, which survive only as buried ring-ditches, was important. Ring- ditch M3 was fully excavated in the summer of 2007, with an extension cut across the ring-ditch of the adjacent M2. The results of these investigations form the basis of the report below.
The Ringlemere site is located at the foot of the North Down dip slope, towards the bottom of a long north-east facing slope which constitutes the southern side of the valley of the Durlock Stream. The site lies some 3.75km west of Sandwich, in the parish of Woodnesborough, about 1.5km west of the church. Ringlemere Farm is some 400m to the south-east (Figs 1 and 2).
The underlying geology in the area is head brickearth, with some gravel, overlying Thanet Formation clay. Today, the Durlock Stream begins at springs which rise in the immediate environs of the site and flows for about 8km westwards to join the Wingham River (Fig. 1). A ridge of Eocene sands separates the Durlock valley from the south-western edge of the former Wantsum Channel, which once separated the Isle of Thanet from mainland Kent, and was a much-used waterway in ancient times.
EXCAVATION OF MONUMENT M1 – SUMMARY
Extensive excavations undertaken after the discovery the Bronze Age gold cup led to the recognition of the remains of a large, previously unrecorded round barrow,
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Former Wantsum Tidal Channel
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Sandwich
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RINGLEMERE
Woodnesborough
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Ramsgate
ISLE OF THANET
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Based on an Ordnance Survey map with the permission of the Controller of Her Majesty's Stationery Office, © Crown Copyright. Licence No. AL100021009
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Fig. 1 Map of north-east Kent showing location of Ringlemere in relation to rivers and the local topography.
Monument (M)1. (NGR TR 2938 5698, centred.) The base of this plough-reduced mound was encircled by a substantial ditch about 42m in diameter, with an entrance causeway on the northern side. Centuries later, the surviving mound had served as the focus for an early Anglo-Saxon cemetery.
The barrow mound protected a well-preserved land surface below, containing evidence for extensive earlier activity, and making it clear that the site had a long history of use before the barrow was erected. The excavated remains were divided into nine broad phases of activity. These are summarised below with full details presented in the published monograph (Parfitt and Needham 2020).
Phase 1: Mesolithic and Early Neolithic, pre-3500 bc: activity during these periods was largely represented by a scattering of flintwork. An excavated arc of stake- holes seemed to relate to a sub-circular structure of some kind. Surviving
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Ringleton Manor
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The Lodge
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M5
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Black Pond
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Scattered Late Bronze Age hoard
Ringlemere Farm
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RINGLEMERE: INVESTIGATION OF PREHISTORIC RING-DITCHES, M2 AND M3
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Based on an Ordnance Survey map with the permission of the Controller of Her Majesty's Stationery Office, © Crown Copyright. Licence No. AL100021009
Fig. 2 Ringlemere Early Bronze Age cemetery, as established by geophysical survey and aerial photography.
charred wood from of one the stakes gave a radiocarbon date of 3770-3645 cal bc, implying an Early Neolithic date. Another radiocarbon date of 4040-3804 cal bc, for a small collection of burnt ?human bone fragments recovered from a nearby pit probably provides further evidence for site activity during the Early Neolithic, although the bone itself was perhaps re-deposited.
Phase 2: Late Neolithic and possibly Chalcolithic (Grooved Ware), c.3000-2200 bc: during the Late Neolithic a period of intense activity began, associated with a complex of more than 230 cut-features. These consisted of variously sized pits, hollows, post-holes, and stake-holes, with three hearths and two possible
KEITH PARFITT
graves. Structural arrangements identified included a horseshoe setting (early); a ‘cove’; a trapezoidal building; pit alignments and post screens, constituting an ever-changing layout. Several structures were the foci for activity that involved the generation and deposition of large quantities of cultural debris, in the form of calcined flint, struck flint and distinctive Grooved Ware pottery. Lesser quantities of non-local stone (including axe fragments), fired clay and burnt bone were also recovered. The Grooved Ware-associated activity possibly continued into the Chalcolithic Period, when Beaker pottery appears on the site and new structural arrangements occurred.
Phase 3: earliest Early Bronze Age (Beaker), c.2200-1950 bc: most of the Beaker pottery found came from the buried soil profile rather than in feature fills. However, three pits containing whole Beaker pots were discovered. It is possible that two of these were graves, although no skeletal material had sur- vived. Some other features excavated could also be of Beaker date but this cannot be certain. Fragmentary evidence for the existence of a ditch enclosing the site may be tentatively identified. If not datable to late in the Grooved Ware sequence, this early ditch could be associated with the Beaker-phase layout. It was subsequently replaced by a much larger ditch during Phase 4.
Phase 4: mature Early Bronze Age, c.1950-1500 bc: around the beginning of the second millennium bc the existing enclosure was transformed by the con- struction of a broad mound in its interior. This had a turf inner core and a clay capping or skirt, but lacked evidence for any immediately associated burial. The new monument was further enhanced by the renewal of the enclosure ditch on a grander scale than before, with an external bank. The ditch seems to have closely followed its predecessor and enclosed an area measuring between 43.75m (n-s) and 41.50m (e-w), with a narrow entrance maintained on the northern side. On top of the mound a timber façade was erected aligned north-south, respecting a key alignment of the previous phase. Later, a large pit, possibly a grave, was dug alongside the façade; this had contained one or probably two amber objects and the gold cup.
Phase 5: Middle Bronze Age – later Iron Age, c.1500-100 bc: this phase covers the lifetime of the monument after its primary use and active reworking, but before agriculture made any significant inroads into it, spanning from the middle of the second millennium bc through to late in the first millennium bc. Activity appears to be sporadic during this phase. The monument’s outer bank may have been deliberately slighted now, perhaps in connection with the beginnings of cultivation around the site.
Phase 6: Late Iron Age and Romano-British period, c.100 bc-ad 400: the environs of M1 became an arable landscape with ploughing progressively levelling its encircling earthworks, truncating the top of the ditch and encroaching upon the edges of the mound itself. A negative lynchet was formed around the monument. Down-washed soils began infilling this lynchet during the Late Iron Age/Romano-British period.
RINGLEMERE: INVESTIGATION OF PREHISTORIC RING-DITCHES, M2 AND M3
Phase 7: Anglo-Saxon cemetery and contemporary land use, c.ad 400-700: on the south-west flank of the barrow mound, a hiatus in cultivation allowed this area to be used as an Anglo-Saxon cemetery during the fifth and sixth century ad. Later, a sunken-featured building was cut into the northern side of the mound but the adjacent lands are likely to have remained under cultivation.
Phase 8: Medieval land use, c.ad 700-1300: a rectangular ditched enclosure was created around the mound on its north-eastern side. This mound became a rabbit warren surrounded by cultivated land; infilling of the downslope lynchet continued.
Phase 9: Post-medieval to modern cultivation, c.ad 1300 – present: plough reduct- ion of prehistoric mound itself occurred with continued lynchet infilling on three sides.
THE BARROW CEMETERY
Aerial photograph analysis, geophysical survey and excavation established that the large round barrow represented by M1 was one of a number that had formerly existed in this area (Fig. 2). Now represented only by surviving sub-surface ring- ditches, these other barrows (designated M2-M9) fall into two discrete alignments along the valley-side − Upper barrow alignment and Lower barrow alignment. Together, they seem to constitute the remains of a substantial prehistoric barrow cemetery, perhaps originally containing eight mounds, but now levelled by the plough. This barrow cemetery probably developed adjacent to the pre-existing ceremonial site represented by M1 (Fig. 2).
Upper barrow alignment (M2, M3 and M5): south-west of M1, at a slightly higher elevation, a localised outcrop of natural gravel supported a row of three ring-ditches (M2, M3 and M5; Fig. 2 and Fig. 3). These run roughly north-south, extending about 100m along the valley-side and each most probably originally enclosed a round barrow. At the southern end of the row, unexcavated M5 appears to be a double ring-ditch, with an outer ditch around 28m in diameter and the inner one of about 16m. These two concentric ditches are probably successive, suggesting that this monument, like M1, has more than one main phase of development. Details of the adjacent M2 and M3 follow below.
Lower barrow alignment (M1, M6, M7, M8 and M9): a little further down slope, geophysical survey (Birchenough 2006, fig. 4) and aerial photographs indicate the existence of a second row of at least four ring-ditches (Fig. 2, M6, M7, M8 and M9), extending south-east from M1. Running along the valley-side for more than 100m, none of these smaller monuments has been excavated. Just under 60m from M1, the largest is M6. This appears to have a ditch approximately 24m in external diameter. Worthy of note on the geophysics is a strong circular anomaly within it, perhaps a pit. On the northern side a somewhat ephemeral magnetic response suggests the presence of another a very small ring-ditch, approximately 8m in diameter. Designated M7, this is also vaguely discernible on an aerial photograph of 1990. Its apparent placement over, or as an appendage to, the ditch of M6 suggests that it is the later of the two monuments.
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M1
M2
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Fig. 3 Surface contour survey of the land around Monuments 1, 2 and 3, before excavation (contours at 0.25m intervals).
About 20m south-east of M6 lies M8, with a ditch diameter of some 18m. An apparent break in its circuit on the south-western side is of some interest and suggests the presence of an entrance causeway here. Inside the ditch there is an indistinct, arc-like, central anomaly represented by an area of raised magnetic response. There are also a considerable number of magnetic anomalies outside the presumed break in the ditch circuit. These are presently difficult to interpret and are not certainly of prehistoric origin.
The last ring-ditch of this alignment is M9, located 40m to the south-east of M8 and about 160m from M1. It is approximately 14m in diameter and from the geophysics seems to impinge upon (or vice versa) the north-western end of an irregular, ill-defined rectilinear feature.
RING-DITCH M2
This ring-ditch had been previously identified on aerial photographs and geophysical surveys of the area (Birchenough 2006, fig. 4). It was also visible on the ground in the growing crop during the spring of 2002, being 28-30m in overall diameter. (NGR TR 2933 5693, centred.) A gas main had been cut across the middle of the
RINGLEMERE: INVESTIGATION OF PREHISTORIC RING-DITCHES, M2 AND M3
monument sometime during the 1980s but no archaeological work was undertaken then.
The east-west aligned pipe-trench had passed just north of the centre of the enclosure and some damage to the monument must have occurred. Nevertheless, cropmarks appearing on a Google Earth satellite image, taken in April 2007, hint at the survival of an inner ring-ditch, about 15m in diameter, set within the main enclosure although not concentric to it. The geophysical plot, too, hints at the presence of internal features, with the possibility that the main ring-ditch may be penannular, with an entrance on the north-east side, facing M1. Two anomalies, perhaps pits or large post-holes, could mark the ditch terminals here but precise interpretation is hampered by the presence of a continuation of a later, Roman field boundary ditch into this area (see below). If M2 does possess an associated inner ditch this would suggest a complex monument perhaps broadly comparable to the adjacent M5 (see above).
The presence of the gas main meant that only limited excavation on M2 was undertaken in 2007. A single trench 1.95m wide was cut across the outer ring- ditch on its northern side (Figs 4 and 5). This was extended for 1.50m from the inner lip of the ditch into the enclosed area, sufficient to show that no mound material survived here. Nor were any internal features revealed. The surface of the undisturbed natural gravel was found be buried at a depth of 0.30m below present ground level, sealed by a layer of plough soil. Outside the barrow ditch to the north, the soil overlying the gravel was somewhat thicker, reflecting a general rise in the level of the surface within the enclosed area.
The excavated trench established that the ring-ditch [F.2509] was of substantial proportions with an almost V-shaped profile. It was about 3.30m wide across the top and 1.50m deep (Figs 6 and 7). Convexly sloping sides gave way to a flat base between 0.40 and 0.65m across. From the drawn section (Fig. 7), it could be suggested that the infilled ditch had subsequently been re-cut, wider but to only about half its original depth. Such a recut was not specifically recognized during the excavation and more probably the recorded profile is merely the result of continued erosion of the upper ditch sides after its lower part had become filled. The lower and middle fillings of the ditch consisted of a series of weathered gravelly silts (Fig. 7, Contexts 2541-2548). These produced a combined total of ninety-two prehistoric struck flints, together with two fragments of calcined flint. The upper ditch filling comprised a light brown clay loam with rather less gravel (Context 2510), which produced a further fifty-nine pieces of prehistoric flintwork,
most of which is likely to be residual.
Only two sherds of pottery were recovered from the ditch filling. These came from weathered gravel deposits on its sides (Contexts 2542 and 2544) and consist of a worn piece of Roman samian ware (2544) and an Anglo-Saxon sherd dated c.ad 775/800-875 (2542). These suggest that the upper half of the ditch still remained open during the early historic period. The overall impression gained was that following its excavation (or any subsequent recutting), the ditch had been left to slowly silt up through natural processes.
image
Trench 8 (2006)
Trench 1
(2002)
Trench 4 (2003)
M1
Trench 2 (2002)
Trench 9
(2007)
M3
Trench 6
(2005-6)
Trench 7 (2006)
Trench 5
(2004)
Tr.3 (2003)
M2
10m
KEITH PARFITT
8
Fig. 4 Plan of the excavation trenches by year.
Gr 55
Gr 58
F.2609
RINGLEMERE: INVESTIGATION OF PREHISTORIC RING-DITCHES, M2 AND M3
F.2553
Gr 54
F.2635
F.2530
image
S.332
S.323
S.333
S.325
Gr 53
S.331 F.2631
F.2572 F.2629
S.318
Gr 56
Gr 57
F.2623
S.330
S.347
F.2621
S.350
F.2625
F.2525 F.2613
S.343
S. 354
S.308
S.351
F.2550
F.2633 F.2615
S.328
S.314
S.320
9
F.2509
S.311
F.2507
F.2568
F.2570
F.2523
S.345
F.2605
F.2619 F.2535
Pottery,
F.2617
F.2611
S.305
+ 2526
F.2533 F.2517
F.2507
MONUMENT M2
F.2595
MONUMENT M3
F.2607
S.312
F.2521
10 0 10 Metres
Fig. 5 General plan of Trench 9 showing excavated features associated with M2 and M3.
KEITH PARFITT
image
Fig. 6 Excavated trench across the ring-ditch of M2, looking east. Scale, 2 metres.
image
N
S
OD 13.40m
2501
2502
2510
2542
2544
2541
2543
2545
Sec�on 311
2547
0
1m
2546
2548
F. 2509
Fig. 7 Section across the ring-ditch of M2.
RINGLEMERE: INVESTIGATION OF PREHISTORIC RING-DITCHES, M2 AND M3
image
Fig. 8 General view across excavated M3, looking east. Scale, 2 metres.
RING-DITCH M3
Like M2, this ring-ditch was identified on aerial photographs, through geophysical survey and by ground observation. (NGR TR 2932 5696, centred.) Its site was fully excavated in 2007 (Fig. 4, Trench 9) and was found to consist of a continuous ring-ditch [F.2507] enclosing a fairly precise circle with an internal diameter of 15.25-16.25m (Fig. 5 and Figs 8 and 9). There was no surviving physical evidence for any central barrow mound, although one most probably existed originally.
The ring-ditch [F.2507]: this feature was almost completely emptied during the course of the excavation. It was found to be between 1.00-1.80m wide across the top and in two places on the north-eastern side had been cut through by a later, Roman, boundary ditch (see below). Subsequently, two Anglo-Saxon graves (Grs 54 and 56) were also dug into its upper levels.
The ditch had clearly been truncated by later ploughing. As surviving, it was 0.44-0.65m deep. The sides were convexly sloping, with a flat to slightly dished base 0.20-0.45m across. The ditch’s profile was somewhat variable around its circuit (Figs 10 and 11) but there was no evidence for any re-cutting. A series of thirty-four separate fill deposits was defined within the ring-ditch and these appeared to represent naturally weathered silts, with coarse primary gravel fills giving way to finer, more soily secondary deposits.
Overall, the ditch fills produced a total of just over 560 pieces of struck flint, 77 fragments of calcined flint and 112 sherds of pottery. Amongst the pottery recovered there was just one prehistoric sherd. This is a small piece of flint-tempered ware from the upper filling on the north-west side (Fig. 11, Section 330, Context 2508). It is probably Bronze Age or Iron Age but cannot be closely dated. Two pieces of
image
KEITH PARFITT
12
Fig. 9 General view across excavated M3, looking south-east towards Ringlemere Farm.
RINGLEMERE: INVESTIGATION OF PREHISTORIC RING-DITCHES, M2 AND M3
early Roman grog-tempered ware came from the upper filling on the northern side (Fig. 11, Section 332, Context 2582) in the area where Roman ditch [F.2503] cut through: these are likely to be intrusive from that later feature. All the remaining pottery discovered was found in one spot on the south-west side, where a group of 109 sherds was found lying in the top of the ditch (Fig. 5, Context 2526). These represent two-three separate vessels of Anglo-Saxon date, c.ad 800-850/875. This material must have originally been deposited in a shallow pit cut into the top of the ring-ditch sometime during the ninth century ad. Ploughing had subsequently removed all but the very base of this feature.
The prehistoric flintwork recovered from the ring-ditch constitutes the largest group of lithic material recovered in 2007 and amounts to over half the total assemblage. The flints themselves were scattered throughout twenty-four separate contexts, with almost two-thirds contained within its uppermost levels. There were no particularly obvious concentrations or deliberately placed deposits and the bulk of the flints appear to be residual, derived from the earlier activity in the general vicinity of the monument.
The area enclosed by the ring-ditch: clearance of the modern ploughsoil within the area enclosed by the ring-ditch revealed the truncated surface of natural gravel directly below, with no surviving traces of any central barrow mound or early topsoil. The bases of twenty shallow hollows, pits and post-holes were located cut into this surface (Figs 5, 8 and 9; Table 1). All had been reduced by ploughing and none contained any definite evidence for a burial. There was no good dating evidence and half the features failed to produce any datable finds. Most are perhaps likely to pre- date the main monument and relate to earlier activity in the area, as was found at M1. From its central positioning, appropriate size and shape (Fig. 5 and Fig. 12), one pit [F.2525] may be suggested as representing a grave, more or less contemporary with the ring-ditch. A line of five post-holes on the north-east side, however, have been tentatively suggested as representing a fence line of Roman date, running
parallel with a Roman field boundary ditch (see below).
Central pit, [F.2525] and post-hole [F.2613]: almost at the exact centre of the enclosed area was a neat, oval pit filled with deposits of gravely soil [F.2525]. This measured 1.02 by 1.22m and was aligned ene by wsw. It was 0.30m deep, with steep sides and a slightly dished base (Figs 5, 11 and 12). Dug into the base of the pit at the north-eastern end, a deeper depression appeared to represent a substantial post-hole. This was D-shaped in plan and measured 0.56m (nnw- sse) by 0.28m (ene-wsw). It was 0.15m deep with steep sides and a flat bottom (Fig. 11, Section 308). It seems probable that this feature had originally held an upright wooden post positioned at one end of the pit. The D-shaped form suggests that the original post was probably a split tree trunk with the flat (split) surface facing south-west. The filling of the post-hole (Context 2540) consisted of brown silty clay containing occasional flint pebbles. It produced three small, unworked struck flints and fifteen fragments of calcined flint but no other finds.
The lower filling of the main pit (Context 2602) consisted of a compact brown gritty loam containing frequent small and medium flint pebbles. Very careful excavation produced only a single fragment of calcined flint.
KEITH PARFITT
image
Fig. 10 Sections across ring-ditch of M3.
RINGLEMERE: INVESTIGATION OF PREHISTORIC RING-DITCHES, M2 AND M3
image
Fig. 11 Sections across ring-ditch and central pit [F.2525] of M3 and Roman field ditches.
KEITH PARFITT
16
TABLE 1. SUMMARY OF EXCAVATED FEATURES (PITS/POST-HOLES) WITHIN RING-DITCH M3
F. No.
Type
Shape
Length (m)
Width (m)
Axis
Depth (m)
Sides
Base
Notes and finds
2517
P-hole
Oval
0.39
0.35
E-W
0.16
Steep
Rounded
no finds
2523
Pit
Irreg./oval
0.75-0.80
0.78
N-S
0.12
Sloping
Flat
1 flint; 1 calcined
2525
Pit
Oval
1.22
1.02
ENE-
WSW
0.30
Steep
Dished
Poss. grave. D-shaped post-hole in base at northern end
2533
P-hole
Ovoid
0.37
0.30
NE-SW
0.16
Steep
Dished
1 flint
2535
Pit/p-hole
Sub-oval
0.86
0.68
E-W
0.12
Steep
Flat-dished
no finds
2550
Pit/p-hole
Irregular
0.70-0.82
0.78
NE-SW
0.20
St’p/Slop’g
Irregular
3 calcined
2568
Pit/p-hole
Oval
1.28
0.61
NW-SE
0.27
Steep
Irregular
no finds
2570
P-hole
Oval
0.53
0.29
E-W
0.18
Sloping
Rounded
no finds
2572
P-hole
Oval
0.33
0.31
NE-SW
0.14
St’p/Slop’g
Pointed
Poss. fence line – nil
2613
P-hole
Oval
0.60
0.51
NE-SW
0.22
Steep
Dished
no finds
2615
Pit
Irreg.
3.45
0.78-1.46
NW-SE
0.14-0.31
St’p/Slop’g
Irregular
2 flint; 4 calcined.
Poss. more than one feature
2617
Pit/p-hole
Oval
0.28
0.25
NE-SW
0.40
Steep
Dished
3 calcined
2619
P-hole
Oval
0.28
0.25
NE-SW
0.14
Steep
Dished
no finds
2621
Pit/p-hole
Sub-oval
0.63
0.55
NW-SE
0.15
Sloping
Rounded
Poss. fence line – nil
2623
Pit/p-hole
Oval
0.52
0.47
E-W
0.21
Sloping
Pointed
no finds
2625
Pit/p-hole
Oval
0.82
0.42-0.55
E-W
0.17
Sloping
Dished
Poss. fence line; 1 flint
2629
Pit/p-hole
Oval
0.48
0.43
N-S
0.11
Sloping
Dished
Poss. fence line – nil
2631
Pit/p-hole
Ovoid
0.68
0.76
E-W
0.12
Steep
Dished
Poss. fence line. Shallow step on N side could be earlier post- hole – nil
2633
Pit/p-hole
Ovoid
1.05
0.75
NE-SW
0.18
Sloping
Dished
5 calcined. Scoop on NW side
2635
Pit
Oval
0.98
0.92
E-W
0.20
Sloping
Irregular
1 flint
RINGLEMERE: INVESTIGATION OF PREHISTORIC RING-DITCHES, M2 AND M3
image
Fig. 12 Possible grave [F.2525] at the centre of M3, looking north-east. Scale, 1 metre.
The main upper filling of the pit (Context 2524) comprised a light brown clay loam containing moderate quantities of flint pebbles and occasional carbon specks (more frequent towards the south-western end). This deposit also included thirty- seven more struck flints and twenty-five calcined flints. The flintwork consists of a mixed collection of waste including one core, one core fragment and thirty-five small, unworked flakes. The flints were distributed throughout the filling, with no suggestion of deliberate deposition.
It remains uncertain whether the main pit simply represents a construction pit to allow the insertion of the large D-shaped post or whether it constituted a central grave, marked at one end by the post. Certainly, the proportions of the pit would have readily allowed the insertion of a crouched inhumation, such as are frequently found in a similar position within many barrows and ring-ditches. No traces of any human skeleton survived within the pit but the acidic nature of the gravel into which it was cut is likely to have led to the complete decay of any bone. Although the issue must remain unresolved, the balance of probability seems to be that [F.2525] does represent a central grave pit, originally containing a crouched inhumation marked by a timber upright. If so, the body was apparently interred without grave offerings – unless these too were of perishable organic material.
KEITH PARFITT
image
Fig. 13 Sections across Roman field ditches and features excavated within M3.
RINGLEMERE: INVESTIGATION OF PREHISTORIC RING-DITCHES, M2 AND M3
About 0.75m wsw of pit [F.2525] and continuing its axis another substantial post-hole was discovered [F.2613]. This would seem to mark the position of a second timber upright positioned close to the middle of the enclosed area (Fig. 5). The post-hole was oval in shape and measured 0.60m (ne-sw) by 0.51m (nw-se). It was 0.22m deep, with steep sides and dished base (Fig. 13, Section 343). The filling consisted of a brown clay loam with flint pebbles but this contained no finds.
Other internal features: a number of other small pits and post-holes were located within the enclosed area (Fig. 5; Table 1). None of these can be closely dated and their purpose remains uncertain. They form no clear patterns and generally appear as a somewhat miscellaneous scatter. Many are likely to relate to activity in the area prior to the construction of M3, and as such they could be of late Neolithic or Beaker date and be contemporary with features located below M1. On the northern side, pit [F.2635] might have originally been cut by the ring-ditch but the stratigraphic relationship had been subsequently destroyed by a Roman ditch (Fig. 11, Section 331) and the only find was a single struck flint.
Most of the features surviving within M3 were less than 0.30m deep, others could perhaps have been completely removed by ploughing. On the south side, pit/ post-hole [F.2617] stands out as being slightly deeper than the other features, at 0.40m (Fig. 13, Section 345).
FEATURES CUTTING, OR LYING OUTSIDE, M3
Ring-ditch M4 (discounted): clearance of the area supposedly occupied by another ring-ditch, M4, immediately to the west of M3, failed to reveal any evidence for the existence of such a feature here. A combination of changing geology, a fortuitously positioned straight gully, [F.2611] (see below) and over-interpretation of some fuzzy geophysical survey evidence account for the original mistake. Trench 9 now disproves the existence of M4. Removal of this spurious circle has the effect of regularizing the arrangement of ring-ditches south-west of M1 to form the Upper barrow alignment, as described above.
Ditch [2611]: was aligned roughly east-west and was traced for a minimum distance of 3.65m from its eastern terminal, continuing beyond the excavation limit (Fig. 5). It was 0.93-1.12m wide and 0.35m deep with steep-sloping sides and a dished base. The filling consisted of a single deposit of dark brown clay loam with pebbles. This produced four prehistoric struck flints and sixteen calcined flint fragments, all of which could be residual. The precise date of this ditch must remain uncertain but it might be broadly contemporary with Roman field boundary ditches, [F.2503] and [F.2505], further to the north-east. An L-shaped gully [F.2511] was traced in an extension to the north-west (not on plan Fig. 5). This produced thirty-two struck flints but again these could all be residual.
Other miscellaneous features: irregular hollows, [F.2553] and [F.2605]: hollow [F.2553] was an irregular, ill-defined feature located immediately north of M3 (Fig. 5; Table 2). It consisted of an elongated, slightly curved, ovoid pit, with maximum dimensions of 3.18m (ne-sw) by between 0.75 and 1.22m (nw-se). It
TABLE 2. SUMMARY OF MISCELLANEOUS FEATURES EXCAVATED OUTSIDE RING-DITCH M3
KEITH PARFITT
20
F. No. Type Shape Length (m) Width (m) Axis Depth (m) Sides Base Notes and finds
2511
Gully
L-shaped
7.00 and
2.00 (min.)
0.40-0.66
N-S / E-W
0.21
Steep/sloping
Flat-irreg.
32 flint; 3 calcined
2521
Pit/post-hole
Oval
0.45
0.40
NW-SE
0.14
Steep/sloping
Rounded
occ. calcined
2530
Gully segment
Linear
1.35
0.43
E-W
0.17-0.20
Steep
Flat
1 pot; 6 flint; 3 calcined
2553
Pit
Irregular
3.18
0.75-1.22
NE-SW
0.38
Steep
Irreg.
4 flint (inc. axe/adze); 4
calcined
2595
Post-hole
Oval
0.33
0.32
N-S
0.18
Steep
Pointed
1 calcined
2605
Large pit/ hollow
?Oval
3.60
1.06 (min.)
E-W
0.43
Steep/sloping
Undulating
6 flint; 4 calcined
2607
Gully segment
Linear
2.98
0.73
NW-SE
0.35
Steep
Rounded
1 flint
2609
Pit/post-hole
Oval
0.90
0.54
NW-SE
0.23
Steep/sloping
Dished
no finds
2611
Ditch terminal
Linear
3.65 (min.)
0.93-1.12
E-W
0.35
Steep/sloping
Dished
4 flint; 16 calcined
RINGLEMERE: INVESTIGATION OF PREHISTORIC RING-DITCHES, M2 AND M3
was about 0.38m deep with steep sides and irregular base. The filling comprised deposits of silty clay containing a few flint pebbles. The main filling yielded four prehistoric flints and four small calcined flint fragments. Of particular interest amongst the flints is a tranchet axe/adze of Mesolithic appearance. The three other struck pieces are small, somewhat undiagnostic waste flakes that show no Mesolithic characteristics. It seems most likely that this feature represents some sort of naturally formed hollow, quite possibly a tree throw, into which a few flints had casually collected as residual material.
Another large hollow, [F.2605], partially examined on the opposite side of the site, may have been of similar origin (Fig. 5; Table 2). Its filling of brown clay loam and pebbles contained four calcined flints and six struck flints, one of Palaeolithic date (see p. 26).
Roman boundary ditch and a possible fence-line: at two points on its north-eastern side, the infilled ring-ditch of M3 was cut through by an angled ditch containing Roman material (Fig. 5, [F.2503] and [F.2505]; Fig. 9). Continuations of this ditch are visible on aerial photographs and the geophysics plots. South-east of the excavated area, the ditch extended to meet the ring-ditch of M2 on its north-eastern side, whilst at M3 itself, the ditch realigned by about forty degrees, to follow a westerly course for a further 20m. These separate alignments apparently reflect a desire to skirt around the margins of M3 (Figs 5 and 9), implying that there were still physical remains of the prehistoric monument surviving in the Romano- British landscape, even if the ring-ditch was largely invisible. The survival of a barrow mound, only later lost to the plough, is clearly implied.
The original ditch [F.2503] was between 0.75 and 1.15m wide and about 0.50m deep, with sloping sides and a flat base (Fig. 11, Section 332; Fig. 13, Sections 320 and 323). Most of its exposed length was emptied, the filling consisting of a dark grey-brown loam with flint pebbles. This produced some sixty-five pot sherds, together with a number of fragments of burnt daub and a quantity of residual prehistoric flintwork. The pottery assemblage is something of a mixed group. Most of the pieces fall within the general period c.ad 50-150/200 implying that the ditch was largely full by the start of the third century ad. A number of sherds, including nine flint-tempered pieces, probably belong to the Iron Age and seem to be residual. Also residual, are two sherds of Bronze Age Collared Urn, one with cord-impressed decoration. In addition, there are eleven sherds of early Anglo-Saxon ware datable to the period c.ad 450-550/600. All but one of these came from the south-eastern sector of the excavated ditch and derive from a single vessel. They must be intrusive and connected with activity associated with the nearby Anglo-Saxon cemetery.
The original ditch had been partially recut, with [F.2505] representing a re- digging of the old western ditch line, which had not continued east of M3. The new ditch was cut on the precise line of [F.2503] and clearly represented its direct replacement (Fig. 5). The recut ditch terminated just west of the angle change in the line of [F.2503] – apparently only that section of ditch west of M3 needed replacement. The subsequent ditch was slightly larger than the original, being between 1.07 and 1.18m in width and about 0.64m deep; consequently, all traces of the earlier ditch had been removed. The new ditch had steep-sloping sides and
KEITH PARFITT
a dished base (Fig. 11, Section 331; Fig. 13, Section 325). It was filled with dark brown clay loam containing flint pebbles. This produced twenty-nine sherds of pottery, together with a number of fragments of burnt daub, a small piece of chaff- tempered ware, a tooth from a large domestic animal, a sandstone fragment and a quantity of residual prehistoric flintwork. The latest pot-sherds date to c.ad 150-200, with some earlier Roman material and seven residual prehistoric flint- tempered sherds. Overall, it seems likely that this re-cut ditch is not much later in date than its predecessor.
South-west of the Roman boundary ditch, within the area enclosed by ring-ditch M3, an arc of five shallow pits (Fig. 5, [F.2621], [F.2625], [F.2631], [F.2572] and [F.2629]; Table 1) ran almost parallel to the ditch line. These lay 2-3m from the lip of the boundary ditch, spaced at intervals of between 2 and 4m. They are not closely dated; the only find was a single prehistoric flint in [F.2625]. From their positioning in relation to the Roman ditch, it seems possible that these are post- holes representing a boundary fence running parallel with the ditch where it passed by the prehistoric monument. Presumably, such post-holes had originally been cut into the edge of the inferred barrow mound here and this might explain their shallow depth into the natural gravel (Fig. 13, Sections 347, 350, 354, 318 and 351). If so, the implication must be that the mound in this area was not very high by this stage. No further post-holes continuing the line beyond M3 were discovered so the interpretation must remain speculative.
Anglo-Saxon burials, Graves 53-58: previous excavations at Ringlemere had established that the south-western side of M1 was occupied during the fifth century ad by an Anglo-Saxon cemetery containing over 50 burials (Parfitt and Needham 2020, 141, fig. 4.2). The full extent of this cemetery has still to be determined but six more inhumation graves (Fig. 5, Graves 53-58), together with part of a probable seventh, were discovered in 2007. These new graves appear to represent a discrete group placed adjacent to the northern side of M3. Their presence would seem to provide further evidence for the former existence of an upstanding barrow here.
As previously, all the new graves were aligned roughly east-west. Two (Grs 53 and 54) were cut into the Roman field boundary ditch, which must have been filled by this time and apparently played no part in delimiting the burial area. Another burial (Grave 56) cut the ring-ditch of M3 but no graves occurred within the enclosed area.
The acidic gravel subsoil meant that no skeletons survived but the size of one grave (Gr. 55) indicated that it belonged to a child. Grave items were recovered from four of the burials. Grave 53 contained five brooches and forty-two beads and must represent the burial of a reasonably well-off woman. Provisional dating of the grave-objects recovered suggests that they are again of fifth-century date.
SPECIALIST REPORTS ON FINDS (NOT ILLUSTRATED)
In comparison with M1 the prehistoric finds assemblage associated with M2 and M3 is quite small. This is largely explained by the non-survival of any barrow mounds or buried early topsoil here, which produced the bulk of the finds at M1.
RINGLEMERE: INVESTIGATION OF PREHISTORIC RING-DITCHES, M2 AND M3
Nevertheless, a significant collection of prehistoric flints was recovered during the present excavations, mostly from the ring-ditches, together with a smaller pottery assemblage. Due to the acidic nature of the soils virtually no bone had survived. The Anglo-Saxon grave material has been kept with the main cemetery collection housed at the British Museum. The other finds from the 2007 excavation will be placed in a suitable Kent repository in due course.
Pottery by Nigel Macpherson-Grant†
The quantity of pottery recovered from the area of M2 and M3 was small, amounting to just over 200 sherds, and no Neolithic Grooved Ware or Beaker sherds are present within the assemblage. The largest single group of material was represented by 109 sherds of middle Anglo-Saxon ware recovered from the top of the ring-ditch on the south-western side of M3 (Fig. 5; see above). Overall, between five and six main archaeological periods are represented ceramically. These are described below.
Early Bronze Age: this period is represented by just two sherds – one moderate- sized and a definite example of Early Bronze Age Collared Urn-style pottery, and one small piece probably from a similar type of vessel. Both came from Roman ditch [F.2503] and are grog-tempered. Considering the relatively soft nature of the fabric, the larger sherd is remarkably unworn. It is from the collar-zone of a fairly thick-walled large-diameter vessel, the collar with typically impressed cord decoration – which in this case consists of a broad band of close-spaced horizontal lines above or below a zone of multiple-line chevrons. The sherd is datable to between c.2000-1500 bc (Gibson 1986) and is perhaps re-deposited from a disturbed cremation burial urn.
Later Prehistoric: flint-tempered sherds were recovered from Context 2508 of the M3 ring-ditch (Section 330), from Roman ditches [F.2503] and [F.2505], and from the general filling of Grave 57. In all but one context these sherds were accompanied by later pottery. The highest quantities came from the Roman ditch fills. All the sherds are generally quite heavily worn – and all should be residual. Although some of this material could be as early as Middle Bronze Age, none of the recovered sherds are diagnostically typical. On the basis of available manufacturing characteristics there is a personal preference to see all of this material as belonging to the first millennium bc. Only one rim was recovered, a burnt fragment of coarseware jar with a fairly flaring and everted rim. Although the form is not utterly typical of Mid/Late Iron Age types – and could occur in an Earliest Iron Age assemblage – it is felt that this example is probably of Mid/Late Iron Age date.
Late Iron Age-mid Roman: this broad phase embraces three archaeological periods but is here presented as one, representing many years of probably continuous land-use. Within this phase Late Iron Age activity is represented by ‘Belgic’-style grog-tempered sherds, eight in all, equally spread between Roman ditches [F.2503] and [F.2505]. Most are body sherds, with only one rim. The simple upright and rather primitive form of the latter suggests a first century bc date rather than later.
KEITH PARFITT
The quantities recovered for this period are small and should represent no more than the natural bi-product of discards and stray losses from nearby habitation during the period c.50 bc-50 ad. This modest scale of activity continued into the middle and later years of the first century ad – with only one fresh, moderate- sized sherd from ditch [F.2505] representing the Conquest-period. This is from a neatly-made wheel-thrown, finely grog-tempered small jar with an upper-shoulder band of broad rouletting, copying contemporary imported Gallo-Belgic white ware beakers, and datable to c.ad 50-75.
The Early Roman period is initially represented by a few very worn scraps of Southern Gaulish samian, several sherds from Kentish fine wares (including two pieces from a fine oxidised thin-walled Upchurch-type cordoned beaker or jar from ditch [F.2503] and a few Romanising grog-tempered coarsewares. Most of these pieces should date to the late first century ad. However, the main phase of activity appears to be during the first half of the second century, predominantly represented by sherds from mostly rather softly-fired oxidised Romanising native grog-tempered coarseware storage and kitchen vessels but also by a few pieces from sandy ware jars and at least one Canterbury pink-buff tableware flagon. Most of this material comes from Roman ditches [F.2503] and [F.2505], with a few other sherds from the upper filling of the M3 ring-ditch (Context 2582; Section 332), gully segment [F.2607] and residual in the general filling of Grave 53.
If the lower count of sherds datable to the later years of the second century is a genuine reflection of original trends, the implied nearby settlement appears to have gone into decline or shifted its activity orientations during the mid-Roman period – a few of the harder-fired, now fully Romanised, Native Coarse Ware sherds and one from a late-phase, c.ad 150-175, Canterbury product all belong to this period. Other than one rolled-rim jar sherd and one or two from fine sandy coarsewares, that might date to the third century, the recovered evidence indicates little obvious Roman activity after c.ad 200.
Early Anglo-Saxon: a total of thirteen sherds from handmade jars with variably sandy fabrics were recovered from four contexts – one small, fairly worn sherd from sub-soil layer 2502 (Section 311), another moderate-sized but fairly worn sherd from the filling of gully segment [F.2530], ten pieces, virtually unworn and from the same vessel in the top of Roman ditch [F.2503] (Context 2573, Section 320) and another small worn scrap from elsewhere in the same ditch. Although the overall fabric type of all these sherds could just suggest a Mid/Late Iron Age or Conquest-period ad, or even an earlier eighth-century variant of the following Mid Saxon group of sherds (see below), at least two examples (from [F.2503] and [F.2530]) are burnished internally, a trait that does not occur on Mid/Late Iron Age non-bowl forms nor on Mid/Late Saxon jar forms. In addition, the same- vessel base sherds from Context 2573 are near-fresh and atypical of that context’s earlier material – so that a second or first century bc date for these is unlikely. The only other period this type of handmade sandy ware vessel could occur is Early Saxon and, as such, is broadly in keeping with Early/Mid Saxon fabric types recorded from the Canterbury Anglo-Saxon sequence and elsewhere within the region. Since, as seems likely, these sherds are Anglo-Saxon, the low-angled base sherds from Context 2573 could easily come from a shouldered, biconical, jar.
RINGLEMERE: INVESTIGATION OF PREHISTORIC RING-DITCHES, M2 AND M3
Further, the single rather coarsely sandy sherd from Context 2581 of ditch [F.2503] (Section 332) appears to have traces of a single broad horizontal groove above two, possibly three, diagonal incised lines – a design-format that could easily be from a sub-biconical jar with multiple incised lines forming chevrons below one or more broad horizontal grooves – utterly typical of Myres’s Early Anglo-Saxon ‘Kentish chevron’ style of decoration and broadly datable to between the mid fifth- earlier seventh century ad (Myres 1977). However, the combination here of this decoration and purely sandy fabrics would, by comparison with frequency trends from within the Canterbury sequence, suggest an earlier date-emphasis, more probably c.ad 450-550 (Macpherson-Grant 1995).
Mid Anglo-Saxon: pottery of this date was recovered from two contexts – a single rim sherd from ring-ditch M2 (Context 2542, Section 311) and a moderate-sized group of rim and body sherds from the top of the ring-ditch of M3 (Fig. 5; Context 2526). The single sherd from Context 2542 is very worn and re-fired, those from 2526 represent two separate vessels, one by ninety-five sherds, and the other by only fourteen sherds. Both vessels are handmade Canterbury sandy ware jars with flaring everted rims, the first with external firing colours varying between a predominant oxidized buff to partially reduced dirty grey, the other totally reduced near-black. One sherd from the first vessel, and possibly others, has characteristic external knife-trimmed facets typical of ninth- to mid tenth-century Canterbury and at least one other North Kent pottery during this period. In Canterbury, knife- trimming is possibly present from the beginning of the Canterbury sandy ware industry, around ad 750/775. The earliest examples show a tendency for fairly light, irregular vertical trimming on certain vessels, sometimes associated with light irregular burnishing, from c.ad 800 onwards. Between c.ad 850/875-950 the degree of trimming is far more severe, frequently with fairly deep broad scalloping of the pot’s surface, each resultant facet accompanied by marked grit-scoration as the knife blade drags sand-grains across the trimmed areas. Here, the combination of form and lighter degree of knifing suggests a date c.ad 800-850, but possibly as late as c.ad 875 for both this vessel and the rim from Context 2542. For the main pot from Context 2526 many of the sherds show a moderate degree of unifacial wear externally, interiors of most being fresher and suggesting deposition and spread for most onto a flattish surface. Conversely, those from the second vessel are mostly fresh and unworn and were almost certainly buried shortly after discard.
Prehistoric flintwork by Geoff Halliwell and Keith Parfitt
The previous work undertaken at Ringlemere produced a combined total of more than 53,000 pieces of prehistoric struck flint. The bulk of this material (47,800 flints) came from the excavation of M1 (Trenches 1-8; Healy 2020), whilst field walking of adjacent ploughlands yielded another 5,500 pieces (Butler 2020). The excavation of Trench 9 in 2007 produced just 1,021 further pieces (12,538g), distributed throughout thirty-five separate contexts (Table 3). Over half the flints came from the filling of the ring-ditch of M3, with about 150 more from the single trench cut across the ring- ditch of M2. The bulk of the material is generally fresh and unpatinated. As with the previous flintwork recovered, several different industries are represented.
KEITH PARFITT
TABLE 3. DISTRIBUTION OF PREHISTORIC FLINTWORK FROM TRENCH 9
Description
Number
Filling of ring-ditch, M2
151
Filling of ring-ditch, M3
564
Filling of central pit within M3, [F.2525]
40
Filling of other features enclosed by M3
6
Filling of miscellaneous features outside M3
53
Filling of Roman ditches, [F.2503] and [F.2505]
112
Filling of Anglo-Saxon graves
27
Ploughsoil and subsoil deposits
68
Total (12,538g)
1,021
The 2007 assemblage essentially constitutes a smaller sample of the range of lithics previously collected from fieldwalking and the excavation of M1. The bulk of the pieces are unworked waste flakes with some thirty cores. The cores are mostly quite small, broken and worked-out fragments rather than complete specimens. The largest complete core is of river gravel, has two/three platforms and weighs 351g.
The range of raw flint material employed for knapping at Ringlemere has previously been described (Butler 2020, 9; Healy 2020, 149-151). The flint from the present excavation reflects the same general pattern, with local river gravel, Bullhead and Downland sources predominating. There is quite a bit of primary material present which seems to represent odd protuberances being taken off raw gravel nodules preparatory to knapping.
Palaeolithic, Mesolithic and Neolithic flint: only a small amount of flintwork recovered from Trench 9 appears to pre-date the Bronze Age. Some half a dozen abraded flakes with mottled, variously coloured patinas stand apart from the bulk of the flints and appear to be much older (a few similar pieces had also been noted in previous seasons). Included amongst these is one large flake of classic Levallois type, with an extensively worked platform. There seems little doubt that this small group of quite distinctive flints derives from the top of the river gravel deposits exposed in the excavation and potentially they provide evidence for Middle Palaeolithic activity at Ringlemere around 50,000 years ago. Further work on the origins and nature of the gravels in the area is required and none of the early lithic material recovered so far has been found well-stratified within the gravel itself.
Several pieces of Mesolithic flintwork were identified in Trench 9. Although blades are scarce, two Mesolithic-style blade cores come from the plough soil. A large, irregular pit located immediately north of M3 [F.2553] produced a fresh Mesolithic tranchet axe/adze. This is 128mm in length and is apparently manufactured from a black downland flint containing grey cherty inclusions. The three other flints recovered from this feature, however, do not derive from the same implement and are not readily recognizable as being Mesolithic. Several other examples of such Mesolithic tranchet axes/adzes, together with a number
RINGLEMERE: INVESTIGATION OF PREHISTORIC RING-DITCHES, M2 AND M3
of sharpening flakes, have previously been found at Ringlemere, along with other flints of this period (Butler 2020, 10; Healey 2020, 151, fig. 5.1, L9).
The few Mesolithic pieces from 2007 provide further evidence for activity in the region, although the quantity of material recovered is not suggestive of any intensive Mesolithic habitation in the immediate area. As previously, however, it may be suspected that other, less diagnostic flints of this period have been passed over, being indistinguishable from later material present (Healy 2020, 151).
Definitive lithic evidence for Neolithic activity is very sparse with no diagnostic arrowheads, polished axes (even fragments), or serrated flakes present within the 2007 assemblage. Three thumbnail scrapers, two from the filling of the M3 ring- ditch and one from Roman field boundary ditch [F.2505], however, indicate that some subsequent Beaker flint-working was occurring in the general area. From its overall characteristics, the bulk of the flintwork recovered from Trench 9 appears to belong to the subsequent Bronze Age period.
Bronze Age flintwork: based on the production techniques, often quite crude, the bulk of the flintwork recovered from Trench 9 appears to belong to the Bronze Age, especially its later stages, implying increased activity in the area at this time. Just over 10% of the Trench 9 assemblage shows some evidence of working, although there are very few well produced tools (Table 4). Scrapers are relatively scarce and make-up just 18% of all the worked material. Rather than formal tools, the bulk of the worked pieces are represented by small flakes exhibiting miscellaneous retouching or evidence of utilisation. Such pieces account for about 75% of the total worked flint recovered. The figures for these two types stand in marked contrast to those from excavated contexts in the adjacent M1, where scrapers were the dominant form, representing about 55% of the worked total and miscellaneous retouched pieces about 12.5% (Healey 2020, tables 5.1, 5.5 and 5.7). The significance of this variation remains uncertain, although it must be noted that the Trench 9 assemblage is poorly stratified and much of the material is likely
TABLE 4. SUMMARY OF WORKED FLINT FROM TRENCH 9 (35 CONTEXTS)
Type
No.
%
Axe/adze (Mesolithic)
1
0.9
Scraper: End
12
10.8
Side
5
4.5
Thumbnail
3
2.7
Other type
1
0.9
Notched flake
2
1.8
Awl/piercer
1
0.9
Misc. retouch
59
53.2
Utilised
24
21.6
Other
3
2.7
Total
111
100
KEITH PARFITT
to be residual, derived from eroded land surfaces in an area where there had long been regular flint production and use.
The lithics from very few of the excavated contexts in Trench 9 provide any clear evidence of particular activity in the area. The single trench cut across the ring-ditch of M2 produced 151 pieces of flintwork, mostly from its middle and upper filling, but it seems probable that all this material is residual in its excavated context, the bulk having perhaps accumulated here during the historic period. Similarly, the filling of the M3 ring-ditch yielded more than 500 pieces of flintwork but no particular concentrations, such as could indicate specifically placed deposits or in situ knapping debris. Instead, the material here was scattered throughout twenty-four separate contexts around the circuit of the ditch, only four of which produced more than fifty pieces.
Potentially more significant are the forty flints recovered from the filling of the pit at the centre of M3 [F.2525]. Nearly all of these came from the pit’s main upper filling (Context 2524; 37 pieces) and consist of a complete two/three platform core (158g), a fragment from another core and thirty-five unworked flakes, mostly secondary waste (24), with seven primary and four tertiary flakes. These flints seem to be derived from a short-term working area or maybe one episode where the waste was not being re-used and someone was engaged in the early stages of tool manufacture (or object production) and then removed the object for finishing or use elsewhere. This is suggested by the low numbers of tertiary flakes compared with remaining secondary pieces. There is nothing to indicate that the material had been deliberately placed in the pit and more probably it comes from earlier, unrelated knapping activity nearby.
Calcined flint: the excavation of Trench 9 produced a total of 256 fragments of calcined flint (4,351g) scattered throughout forty-two different contexts. None of this material had been burnt in situ and nearly one third of the total came from the filling the M3 ring-ditch, where it was probably all residual. A further forty pieces were discovered within the fillings of the probable grave pit [F.2525] at the centre of M3. Previous excavations at Ringlemere have demonstrated the abundance and widespread occurrence of calcined flint across the site, with about 68,000 pieces collected during the excavation of M1 (Parfitt and Needham 2020, 198).
Dispersed Late Bronze Age metalwork hoard by Stuart Needham
In the spring of 2004, metal detecting about 175m to the south-east of M3 produced a single fragment of a Late Bronze Age socketed axe in the plough soil. A very careful search of the area (NGR TR 2940 5679; Fig. 2) led to the recovery of a group of fourteen more metal objects, mostly fragments of bun ingot with some other copper-alloy waste and a single piece of gold wire. These items were found scattered over an area about 20m across, all contained within the thickness of the plough soil.
Most of the pieces are likely to derive from a single Late Bronze Age hoard dispersed by the plough. A small excavation in the area indicated that no associated sub-surface features had survived. The collection was deemed to constitute Treasure under the terms of the Treasure Act (refs 2004 T85 and 2004 T146) and has accordingly been acquired by the British Museum as part of the Ringlemere collection. A report on
RINGLEMERE: INVESTIGATION OF PREHISTORIC RING-DITCHES, M2 AND M3
the hoard by Stuart Needham was included in the Treasure Annual Report for 2004 (DCMS 2007, 39, figs 25.1-25.3). The information below is based on that report.
Catalogue of metalwork recovered
Length of thick gold wire or rod (RFW KF 350). The piece has a neat cir- cular section except where chopped at either end. Cutting or chiselling from opposite ends has given the ends a wedge-like profile. The piece is 37.2mm long, with a diameter of between 2.86mm to 2.60mm. It weighs 3.27g. (DCMS 2007, fig. 25.1.)
Socketed axe fragment of copper-alloy. Mouth intact but blade and one face missing (RFW KF 358). Class A socketed axe decorated with wing-rib de- sign. The bases of the wings continue onto the sides as a slight horizontal moulding. Length 69mm; weight 81.4g. (DCMS 2007, fig. 25.2.)
Plate-like fragment of copper-alloy. All edges broken; possibly part of an artefact. Max. dimension 46.5mm; weight 23.2g. (DCMS 2007, fig. 25.2.)
Copper-alloy tang fragment. Blunt ended rod of sub-trapezoid section; the other end thins and expands towards a bifurcation but the two ends are im- mediately broken. Length 36.5mm; weight 9.4g. (DCMS 2007, fig. 25.2.)
Copper-alloy ingot fragment (RFW KF 349) weight 434.5g.
Copper-alloy ingot edge fragment (RFW KF 351) weight 286.9g.
Copper-alloy ingot near-edge fragment (RFW KF 352) weight 623.2g.
Copper-alloy ingot edge fragment (RFW KF 353); weight 325.1g.
Copper-alloy ingot edge fragment (RFW KF 355); weight 611.1g.
Copper-alloy ingot edge fragment (RFW KF 356); weight 566.2g.
Copper-alloy ingot near-edge fragment (RFW KF 357); weight 343.8g.
Copper-alloy lump, craggy form; weight 4.3g.
Copper-alloy lump, craggy form; weight 5.3g.
Copper-alloy lump, small flattish disc; weight 6.5g.
Copper-alloy lump, flattish, rough; weight 2.5g.
The socketed axe is the only securely datable object among the group, belonging to the Ewart stage of the Late Bronze Age, c.1000-800 bc. However, all but one of the remaining copper-alloy objects would be entirely consistent with such a date; the ingot fragments are typical of the form frequently encountered in Late Bronze Age hoards, while the smaller lumps, which are prills or waste, can also be matched in some contemporary contexts.
The fragment of gold rod (1) is undiagnostic. Its composition is consistent with a Bronze Age date, but it is not necessarily exactly contemporary with the base metalwork. The final copper alloy object, the tang fragment (4), has not been recognised as part of a Bronze Age type and is most likely to belong to a later period and be unrelated to the main hoard.
GENERAL DISCUSSION
The excavation of Trench 9 in 2007 provided important new information concerning the Ringlemere site. One of the smaller ring-ditches (M3) was completely
KEITH PARFITT
excavated, and a second (M2) was sampled, whilst the existence of another (M4) was disproved. A few finds of early flintwork demonstrate prehistoric activity on the site long before the Neolithic/Bronze Age monuments were established. The tranchet axe/adze provides further evidence for the Mesolithic activity previously identified in the area (Butler 2020, 11; Healy 2020, 151). Perhaps of greater interest, however, is the small collection of somewhat abraded flints with a mottled patina that includes a large flake of classic Levallois type. Together these pieces suggest Middle Palaeolithic activity at Ringlemere around 50,000 years ago. The full implications of these finds require considerably more thought and study.
The complete excavation of ring-ditch M3 has indicated that it represents the plough-damaged remains of a small round barrow, presumably of Bronze Age date, although dating evidence is limited. Nothing of a central mound or underlying buried soil profile remained but the enclosing ditch did survive to a reasonable depth. This would seem to have silted up slowly through natural weathering, with no evidence to indicate that the ditch had ever been re-cut. No significant prehistoric deposits occurred around its circuit.
Twenty features, largely undated, were located within the area enclosed by the M3 ring-ditch. It seems likely that many pre-date the construction of any barrow here, as was found with M1. Others, notably a possible fence-line, could be later. The density of features enclosed within the smaller area of M3 was rather less than that of M1. In part, this will be due to the destruction here of the original prehistoric land surface underlying the lost barrow mound. It may also be the case that the M1 mound had been specifically erected over a spot which had long been a focus of more intense activity than the area of M3.
A centrally placed pit within the M3 ring-ditch [F.2525] quite possibly represents a grave, perhaps once marked by an upright wooden post. The acidic gravel subsoil had caused the complete decay of any associated human skeleton but the overall shape and size of the pit is consistent with that of a crouched inhumation. Apart from some waste flintwork, no obvious grave offerings were found within the pit and its identification as a grave must remain unproven.
If not a grave, the pit could be interpreted as a post-pit dug for the insertion of the substantial D-shaped timber upright, probably half a tree trunk, perhaps intended as the central feature of the monument. How such a post might have related to any covering barrow mound remains unclear. It could have protruded through the top of a barrow thrown-up soon after the post had been erected; or perhaps separate phases are represented, with a mound being constructed only after the post had rotted and collapsed.
Work on the adjacent ring-ditch M2 was rather more limited, but the available evidence indicates that this was a larger, more complex monument, encircled by a substantial ring-ditch, possibly with a north-eastern entrance and perhaps enclosing an inner ring-ditch (p. 7, above).
The relatively close proximity of a Late Bronze Age metalwork hoard to an earlier group of barrows is of some interest and implies continued activity in the general area many centuries after these monuments were erected. A positive correlation between Late Bronze Age hoards and natural water sources, such as springs, streams and rivers, is widely recognised (Yates and Bradley 2010). The Ringlemere hoard lies about 400m south of the present-day springs which are the
RINGLEMERE: INVESTIGATION OF PREHISTORIC RING-DITCHES, M2 AND M3
source of the Durlock Stream, apparently further confirming this observed pattern (Yates and Bradley 2010, 62, fig. 7). Habitation in the region during the later Bronze Age also seems to be indicated by some of the flintwork recovered locally (Butler 2020, 12; see above, p. 27).
The re-cut boundary ditch located represents the first feature discovered at Ringlemere that can be positively dated to Roman times, although casual finds belonging to this period, including pottery, tile and coins, had been found previously. Collectively, the evidence now suggests that Romano-British activity in the region might have been quite extensive, whilst material of the preceding Iron Age strongly implies that cultivation in the vicinity began well before the Conquest. A radiocarbon date and occasional pot sherds from the area of M1 suggest ploughing in that area was already underway by the Early Iron Age (Macpherson-Grant 2020). A rare Continental-style brooch dated c.550-450 bc found about 200m north-east of M1 provides further evidence for Iron Age activity in the vicinity (Parfitt 2005).
The Roman ditch line located apparently served as a boundary marker. Skirting the north-eastern side of M2 and M3 (Figs 5 and 9), the clear implication must be that associated barrows were still standing in the Romano-British landscape as visible mounds and continued to influence boundary locations centuries after their original construction. The ditch itself, separated slightly higher ground from the area containing M1. It was perhaps augmented by a length of wooden boundary fence in the area of M3.
The nearest previously recorded Iron Age and Romano-British habitation site in the vicinity lies at the former Hammill brick pit near the Black Pond, some 600m to the south-west of M3. Several pits and ditches were noted there, with quantities of Early Iron Age, Late Iron Age/Belgic and Roman pottery recovered (Macpherson Grant 1999).
The six or seven Anglo-Saxon graves discovered adjacent to M3 provide important additional information concerning the overall size of the cemetery previously located (Parfitt and Needham 2020, 141, fig. 4.2). In all, around sixty burials are now recorded, including six cremations but the full extent and date range of the cemetery remains to be determined. The presence of graves in the immediate vicinity of both M1 and M3 further implies the continued survival of visible barrow mounds here, providing focal points for these later burials.
A single seventh-century sunken featured building cut into the mound of M1 (Parfitt and Needham 2020, 141, plate 4. III), together with scattered pottery and occasional metalwork finds indicate Anglo-Saxon activity occurred across the excavated areas between the fifth and the ninth centuries. A few unworn sherds of sixth- to seventh-century date are also recorded from the brick pit near Black Pond (Macpherson Grant 1999).
acknowledgements
Thanks are due to the landowners – the Smith family at Ringlemere Farm – who readily allowed access and took a keen interest in the fieldwork from the first. The 2007 excavations would not have been possible without the aid of a substantial grant from the Kent Archaeological Society, together with a smaller donation
KEITH PARFITT
from the Battle and District Historical Society, both of which must be gratefully acknowledged here.
Two full-time supervisors from the Canterbury Archaeological Trust (Keith Parfitt and Barry Corke) led the project but most of the excavation and finds processing work was carried out by volunteers from various local archaeological societies and other KAS members, together with a number of students from several universities. Without their hard work, very little would have been achieved and thanks are due to all concerned.
Stuart Needham has provided notes on the late Bronze Age hoard and has also kindly commented on the main text, suggesting a number of improvements. The illustrations were prepared by Barry Corke, Peter Atkinson and Mike Halliwell.
bibliography
Birchenough, A., 2006, ‘Geophysical surveys 2002-2003’, in Needham, Parfitt and Varndell,
pp. 3-6.
Butler, C., 2020, ‘Flintwork from the environs of the Ringlemere complex’, in Parfitt and Needham, pp. 9-12.
DCMS, 2007, Treasure Annual Report 2004 (London: DCMS).
Gibson, A.M., 1986, Neolithic and Early Bronze Age Pottery, Shire Archaeology, p. 43. Healy, F., 2020, ‘Struck flint’, in Parfitt and Needham, pp. 149-198.
Macpherson-Grant, N., 1995, ‘Early to Late Saxon Pottery’, in Blockley, K., et al., Excavations in the Marlowe Car Park and Surrounding Areas, The Archaeology of Canterbury V (Part II), pp. 818-897.
Macpherson-Grant, N., 1999, ‘Iron Age and Later Pottery: Eastry’, Archaeologia Cantiana,
cxix, 378-380.
Macpherson-Grant, N., 2020, ‘Later prehistoric pottery’, in Parfitt and Needham, pp. 244-6. Myres, J.N.L., 1977, A Corpus of Anglo-Saxon Pottery of the Pagan Period. Cambridge,
vols 1-2.
Needham, S.P., Parfitt, K. and Varndell, G. (eds), 2006, The Ringlemere Cup: Precious Cups and the Beginning of the Channel Bronze Age (London: British Museum Research Publication 163).
Parfitt, K., 2003, ‘Bronze Age discoveries at Ringlemere Farm, Woodnesborough’,
Archaeologia Cantiana, cxxiii, 390-391.
Parfitt, K., 2005, ‘Rare Early Iron-Age Brooch: Ringlemere Farm, Woodnesborough’,
Archaeologia Cantiana, cxxv, 382-4.
Parfitt, K. and Needham, S., 2007, ‘Excavations at Ringlemere Farm, Woodnesborough, 2002-2006’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxxvii, 39-55.
Parfitt, K. and Needham, S., 2020, Ceremonial Living in the Third Millennium BC: Excavations at Ringlemere Site M1, Kent, 2002-2006 (London: British Museum Research Publication 217). [Reviewed in Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii (2021), 334-36].
Yates, D. and Bradley, R., 2010, ‘The Siting of Metalwork Hoards in the Bronze Age of South-East England’, Antiquaries Journal, 90, 41-72.
STARTING A NEW LIFE AS ARTISANS AND TRADERS IN RICARDIAN AND HENRICIAN CANTERBURY
(c.1400 AND c.1500)
sheila sweeetinburgh
It has been said that for the survivors of the Black Death (and subsequent plague outbreaks) among the peasantry and their urban neighbours, the later middle ages generally constituted a time of considerable economic and social opportunity. Even though migration had been ‘a major feature of the period 1250-1350’, Christopher Dyer believes that the rate increased thereafter and ‘the turnover of surnames suggests that between half and three-quarters of village families moved every half- century, and by 1500 only a few families in most villages and small towns were descended from residents of the late fourteenth century’.1 As well as highlighting the importance of migration as a social phenomenon in late medieval society, it has considerable implications regarding demography and the balance between rural and urban society. Yet, as Tom Beaumont James commented in 2006, migration, and more particularly to towns during the later middle ages, and the fifteenth century especially, has attracted very little scholarship, and this situation has not improved appreciably in the last decade.2 Furthermore, the allied topic of social mobility has, according to Dyer, similarly ‘attracted only intermittent interest in historical writing about either England or the rest of Britain’.3 In large part the difficulty of the sources continues to be a major issue for both migration (and social mobility), and even though aliens during this period and into the sixteenth century have been studied, particularly through the AHRC-funded project on immigration based at the University of York and The National Archives at Kew, London, far less is known about the movement of people within England.4
Furthermore, the issue of migration in England is not a simple assessment of people’s movement in terms of distance, or whether they moved from town to town, or between countryside and town, because as James (and Peter Clark for the later sixteenth and seventeenth centuries) have shown, different socio-economic groups had diverse expectations and experiences, and made different decisions.5 Among towns such migrant groups varied in size and as a proportion of the total population but, as Clark comments, collectively they can be represented as a pyramid with those from the higher sectors of society: merchants, minor gentry and their peers at the apex.6 Assuming that the poor and poorer members of society, whether vagrants, day labourers, seasonal workers and the young seeking opportunities in service, can be envisaged as forming the base, those some way above them were perhaps independent artisans and traders. Above them again were
SHEILA SWEETINBURGH
the freemen, either entering the town to take up this status through redemption or marriage, or as freemen from other towns enjoying reciprocal privileges. Some of the former, as civic office holders, were able to achieve an even higher position in the hierarchical pyramid.
These diverse socio-economic groups amongst the migrants have attracted varying degrees of interest from scholars, and for those at or near the base Jeremy Goldberg’s work on the ecclesiastical court records for York and Yorkshire has highlighted the movement, especially by young women, from the countryside to the towns whose employment conditions he has classified as life-cycle servanthood.7 He found that women from arable farming areas were more likely to make this transition than their counterparts where livestock predominated, a reflection, perhaps, of their reduced employment opportunities.8 For these young people, finding such work in towns for several years in their late teens and early twenties may have provided sufficient resources for some of them to marry. Yet, what percentage of these new households remained dependent on paid employment as journeymen or as holders of similar positions is unclear, but the transition to independent artisan or trader status was only possible for some, although the proportion probably varied considerably between towns and over time. To make this transition householders needed to have accumulated sufficient finances to fund assets such as a workshop, stock and in some cases specialist equipment, as well as having social capital based on reputation and goodwill.
This form of migration was labelled betterment migration by Clark in 1972, in contrast to survival migration which he saw as involving the section of the pyramid encompassing the poor and poorer members of early modern society.9 For Clark and Goldberg, their use of ecclesiastical court records, albeit in different ways, offered them opportunities to explore these groups using both quantitative and qualitative forms of analysis.10 Clark, in particular, also used the Canterbury diocesan records to explore the identities of migrants from the upper sections of the pyramid – the freemen and those above.11 As a group, freemen offer considerable advantages for the historian because civic record keeping often included place of birth or previous abode for those entering the freedom by redemption. For late medieval Kent, the study by Andrew Butcher of New Romney highlights the relatively small catchment area of this Cinque Port, about a third drawn from a radius of five miles.12 Although conversely, about a quarter had travelled to Romney from outside Kent. Other features include the importance of movement from countryside to towns and the likelihood that a sizeable proportion maintained their rural links, in some cases returning to their natal parish in later life (and death).13
For these generally prosperous migrants and their peers in fifteenth-century towns, civic archives can be supplemented by testamentary sources, for example pious bequests, including payment for tithes forgotten, and references to property outside the town.14 Nationally the survival of such records varies considerably for the late medieval period, and even though there are collections from the fourteenth century, in broad terms they become more abundant during the fifteenth century and thus only reach further down the social scale for this later period. Consequently, independent artisans and traders below the freemen are especially difficult to investigate regarding migration issues in many towns beyond a few glimpses in the local sources, and widely spaced national taxation records such
STARTING A NEW LIFE AS ARTISANS AND TRADERS IN CANTERBURY (c.1400 and c.1500)
as the late fourteenth-century poll tax assessments and the early sixteenth-century lay subsidies.15 James, amongst others, has used these latter records, and for his analysis of family replacement rates at Southampton he has benefited from the survival of an intermediary list produced in 1454.16 Nonetheless, these national taxation lists are crucial indicators of population trends over time, whether showing continuity or change, a product of mortality, fertility and migration. In an age before parish registers, discussions about mortality and fertility primarily draw on the considerable number of known incidents of plague and other large- scale outbreaks of disease, and studies that suggest the prevalence of what is commonly known as a ‘late companionate marriage’ pattern, where women were in their early twenties rather than their early teens at first marriage, and where a significant proportion of women may not have married at all.17 Thus for towns that witnessed a decline in population between the late fourteenth and the early sixteenth centuries the twin features of high mortality and low fertility may not have been offset by replacement through migration. Conversely, as at Canterbury, the increase in population level, albeit Alan Dyer characterises the city as ‘marginal’, that is showing both growth and shrinkage over the long fifteenth century, would suggest that migration was a significant factor in the city’s history during this period.18 These findings provide some ideas regarding migration and longevity, but are still of necessity relatively crude in terms of short- and medium-term trends and provide only limited qualitative evidence.
Some of these shortcomings can be addressed for a few towns because of the particularity of their civic records. Among such towns are Exeter and Canterbury, the records of the former employed by Maryanne Kowaleski for her book on that cathedral city in the later fourteenth century.19 In addition, she has published extensively on women as workers, as well as on particular industries, for example fishing and leather, which highlight the role of relations between countryside and town, and that the movement of goods was matched by the movement of people.20 To a degree this can be replicated for Canterbury, as shown by the author’s study of women as independent businesswomen in fifteenth-century Canterbury published in Archaeologia Cantiana in 2017.21 Furthermore, this study seeks to complement this approach by assessing migration and social mobility for both sexes, not least because the records for men are far more extensive. Consequently, by examining the annual civic licencing system for two twenty-year periods either side of 1400 and 1500 (part of the reigns of Richard II, Henry IV and Henry V; and Richard III and Henry VII) that offer a valuable contrast, it is possible to investigate the varying fortunes of those outside the freedom who were permitted to reside and work independently within Canterbury’s liberty.
These two periods were selected because it has been suggested that Canterbury’s economy had declined significantly by the later fifteenth century, especially with respect to textile production that previously had been exceedingly important, employing perhaps almost a third of the city’s population in the earlier period.22 Provisioning and accommodation for pilgrims and travellers also provided employment opportunities during the earlier period, which coincided with an extensive building programme by Christ Church Priory inside and outside the cathedral precincts, the latter including several large inns.23 In contrast the more challenging economic circumstances of the later period led, amongst other
SHEILA SWEETINBURGH
matters, to the introduction of protectionist policies by certain guilds and the city authorities.24 Other measures of this decline include falling rental incomes for Christ Church Priory, the largest landlord in the city, and the presence of empty properties, seen in the city rentals as well as those of the priory.25 Consequently, the evidence concerning these independent traders for the later period might be expected to show a fall in their numbers, as well as a decline in the proportion who were able to establish themselves successfully in the city. Nevertheless, presumably the economy was not the sole factor and continuing outbreaks of plague throughout the long fifteenth century, as well as the sweating sickness from 1485 may have deterred potential migrants in some years.26 Yet, conversely high mortality in the city, especially during the earlier period when the economy was stronger, may have offered opportunities to those willing to risk urban life.
Even though not all the resident independent traders listed would have been migrants, it seems likely a large majority would have been because, according to the city’s fourteenth-century custumal, apprentices who had served for seven years and could pay a fee of 4s. 8d. would be free.27 Thus the annual lists of ‘intrantes’ that the common clerk compiled for each of the city’s six wards are likely to provide valuable evidence of the level of migration over time, the propensity of particular occupations, ideas about stability and longevity, the likelihood of socio-economic advancement and the place of women in the economy.28 Notwithstanding that the custumal does not specifically mention the intrants, the regulations do state that those others (not freemen) who wish to ‘exercise a craft and open windows without leave’ need to ‘make an agreement and come to terms with the chamber of the said city’.29 This reference to an ‘agreement’ presumably refers to the fee paid annually by the intrants who were permitted to reside and work as independent craftsmen and shopkeepers within Canterbury extensive liberty, which extended well beyond the city wall to the south and east. Whether this system had existed before 1392/3 is unknown but the list was compiled from the first year of the earliest extant chamberlains’ account book.30 Thereafter the lists were drawn up annually except for a very few years in the fifteenth century that would seem to coincide with times of political difficulty. Record keeping is poorer for the sixteenth century, which seems to reflect the more challenging economic circumstances of the post-Dissolution city. As noted above the intrants were listed by ward, although Ridingate ward is often omitted, the intrants apparently placed under the adjoining ward of Newingate. In addition to this spatial information, the records note the level of fine charged and whether it was for a full year, part of a year or multiple years. These varied from 2d. to 80d., but most were under 20d. (see below). Names and occupation, although not universally recorded are fairly common, and for some women their marital status, including on occasion the forename of their husband. Within the historiography it is generally accepted that by the late fourteenth century locative surnames had become fixed, yet by tracing the named intrants year by year it seems that this was not universal and common clerks on occasion still named individuals using their place of origin.31
In addition, this study draws on other materials from the civic archive including freemen’s lists, late fourteenth- and early fifteenth-century wills recorded in the burghmoot, and assize and petty court cases held before the city authorities. Later wills from the consistory and archdeaconry courts were also consulted to try to
STARTING A NEW LIFE AS ARTISANS AND TRADERS IN CANTERBURY (c.1400 and c.1500)
identify intrants, especially those who had successfully enhanced their socio- economic position within Canterbury. Although the purpose of this study was to investigate migration and social mobility, rather than the more specific issue of immigration, the intrants lists do record the presence of aliens and the recent AHRC-funded project does provide the names and places of origin of 575 aliens in Canterbury for the period 1390 to 1510. Even though records for the majority fall outside the two periods discussed here, it is worth noting that sixty-seven of these people were servants and the highest number by occupation were thirteen corvesors [shoemakers]. From the nationality of origin, Flemings were the most numerous (59), followed by Scots (28) and ‘Dutch’ (23), albeit there were thirteen Hollanders, eight Gelderlanders and six Zeelanders.32
Before examining what the records reveal about the intrants’ time in Canterbury, it is worth exploring what can be said regarding the city’s catchment area. As noted above, Butcher concluded that Romney primarily drew in men from a radius of five miles and it seems likely that as a larger urban centre Canterbury would have had a more extensive hinterland that probably covered much of east Kent.33 This is difficult to substantiate from the surviving civic records, yet place of origin was very occasionally used as an alias or might be recorded instead of occupational details.34 Furthermore, with respect to aliens the surname itself can be revealing. Taken together the evidence indicates Canterbury drew migrants from east Kent towns such as Sandwich, Dover and Faversham, the local countryside (including Sarre, Chislet, Brook and Chartham), and also from Biddenden, Goudhurst, Sittingbourne and Rochester.35 Looking beyond the county boundary, the numbers fell but Richard Lypel was a London spicer and Thomas Taillour was noted as having come from the ville of St Albans.36 William Gregory had come from Salisbury and John Fellere from Saltasshe in Devon, but there were others from the north of England such as Richard Martyn from Cumberland, John Helmesley from Newcastle upon Tyne, Agnes Tapstere of Pontefract, and John de Stowe from Scarborough, who had previously been at Bridlington, as well as John Alman from Yarmouth.37 Few seem to have travelled from Scotland, notwithstanding that it is useful to note the higher number from the ‘England’s Immigrants’ project, or Wales, but such people did appear very occasionally in the records, such as John Lucas, Welshman and Margaret Scottisshwoman.38 Finally, turning to continental Europe, in addition to the aliens recorded in the national records from various places including Nijmegen (see above), Cornelio Kele had travelled to Canterbury from Antwerp in 1489 and nine years later John Willyams was listed as a Fleming.39 However, according to the city’s common clerks, most of the aliens were either ‘Dutchmen’ or ‘Dutchwomen’, including John Doucheman, Jacob Heye, Dowchman, Isabella Gowere, Douchewoman, and Jenetruda Duchewoman, but they also noted the presence in Canterbury c.1400 of Walter Dedrickisson, John van Cornbeck, and Isbrand Gerardsson and in c.1500 of Peter van Hamkyn and Cornelius Mighels.40
Turning to the intrants’ lists in more detail, in a few cases it is difficult to identify individuals because of the clerks’ recording practices and the problems of spelling but these instances are insufficient to alter the trends seen within the records. Moreover, rather than examine the total numbers of intrants year on year between 1392 and 1411, and 1485 and 1504, it is more useful to compare the numbers of
SHEILA SWEETINBURGH
those whose names appear for the first time, which may correspond to new arrivals or those within a short time of their arrival in Canterbury. For the two periods as a whole, just over six hundred (606) individuals were recorded for the first time during the earlier period, whereas the number was just under four hundred and fifty
(447) for the later period.
As an aside, the proportion of women classified as independent businesswomen by the clerks during these periods also varied, and, even though the numbers (and percentages of the total intrants) are small, women were more involved in the earlier period where they comprised just under ten per cent (9.4% or 57 women).41 The equivalent figures for the later period are 31 women which is 6.9% of the total number.
Returning to the total numbers of 606 and 447, it may be more significant than a simple decline of 26% between the two periods because generally the licence fees required did not rise in line with skilled worker day rates between c.1400 and c.1500, which may indicate that the city authorities were more concerned to attract intrants during the later period. Indeed, one of the few occupations where fees roughly increased in terms of day rates was brewing, but even this did not apply to all the later (beer) brewers.
Furthermore, looking comparably at the two periods with respect to the annual figures and discounting the first year for each section because of its artificially high number, the late fourteenth and early fifteenth century saw more consistency and only in 1396 and 1397 did the number of new intrants dip below twenty to the very low numbers of eight and ten respectively, and for almost half (9 years) of the total period, the annual number of new intrants was thirty or over (see Tables 1 and 2). During the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, however, there was far greater disparity and in seven years fewer than twenty new intrants were recorded, the lowest numbers being in 1497, 1501 and 1504 when seven, five and four new intrants were listed respectively. Conversely, before that in 1491 and 1492 there was a surge in the numbers of new intrants to forty-seven and then forty, and the next highest figure of thirty-four was recorded in 1493, while the only other year having a comparable number was 1496 (30 new intrants). Seeking explanations for such differences is fraught with difficulty because of the diversity and complexity of the factors involved, but for the later period it is feasible the incidence of plague outbreaks may have been significant. In Canterbury high mortality from sickness took place in 1485, 1487, 1501, and probably in other years when there were national or regional outbreaks (1490, 1499, 1500, and 1503). Consequently, it is perhaps notable that after plague in 1487 and 1501 the numbers of new intrants surged markedly in the following year.42
Concerning stability and longevity, four out of every ten intrants were recorded for a single year during the first period, and the percentage was only very slightly higher for the later period (46%). A similar proportion (43%) during the earlier period was noted in the lists for between two to five years, even though this was not necessary consecutively. For example, John Stegle began his business as a weaver in Northgate ward in 1405. The following year he disappeared from the list but was recorded again for two years in 1407 and 1408. Unlike Thomas Huntebourne, a carpenter, who became a freeman in 1404, having worked as an intrant for one year in 1398, then three and finally a single year, there is nothing
STARTING A NEW LIFE AS ARTISANS AND TRADERS IN CANTERBURY (c.1400 and c.1500)
TABLE 1: NEW INTRANTS BY YEAR OF ARRIVAL, 1392-1411, SHOWING YEARS OF RESIDENCE (SUBSEQUENTLY); NOS BECOMING FREEMEN
No. years new intrants’ names appear
Total
Only 1
2-5
6-10
10+
Freemen
1392
96
38
32
13
13
10
1393
32
9
17
4
2
0
1394
31
14
11
2
4
7
1395
22
8
9
3
2
3
1396
8
3
5
0
0
2
1397
10
2
4
2
2
2
1398
32
15
13
2
2
8
1399
28
11
12
4
1
4
1400
20
11
5
3
1
2
1401
26
8
16
1
1
1
1402
35
15
14
5
1
4
1403
21
12
7
0
2
2
1404
30
12
17
1
0
6
1405
25
9
12
3
1
1
1406
37
14
19
4
0
7
1407
27
17
10
0
0
0
1408
36
15
11
10
0
0
1409
26
15
5
6
0
3
1410
30
7
21
2
0
3
1411
34
15
19
0
0
3
Total
606
250
259
65
32
68
to show Stegle was able to accomplish this advancement.43 Unfortunately, as with many of the intrants, the cause of his disappearance from the lists is unknown. Butcher believes one of the main factors was harvest sensitivity, although among the other possibilities are death, sickness or injury, survivors presumably turning to some form of employment, emigration or having to join the city’s poor.44
Compared to the earlier period, the proportion of intrants who were recorded for between two and five years in the reigns of Richard III and Henry VII was lower (37%). This group, too, included a considerable number who were not recorded in consecutive years, and again some were able to become freemen thereafter, while others disappear from the civic sources. Among the former was John Rychere the tailor, who, having started as an intrant in 1496 was again present two years later in 1498, and became a freeman in 1500, paying 12s.45 Apparently less successful was Robert Richardson who is first recorded as a miller in 1486. In the following three years he was the fee payer in 1487 and 1489, but it was his wife’s name that was
SHEILA SWEETINBURGH
TABLE 2: NEW INTRANTS BY YEAR OF ARRIVAL, 1485-1504,
SHOWING YEARS OF RESIDENCE (SUBSEQUENTLY); NOS BECOMING FREEMEN
No. years new intrants’ names appear
Total
Only 1
2-5
6-10
10+
Freemen
1485
54
18
28
5
4
10
1486
20
11
4
4
1
3
1487
11
6
3
2
0
4
1488
27
13
12
1
1
7
1489
24
11
9
3
1
5
1490
12
5
4
2
1
1
1491
47
26
10
7
4
8
1492
40
23
11
5
1
5
1493
34
11
13
8
2
3
1494
14
8
3
1
2
2
1495
16
7
8
1
0
1
1496
30
8
19
3
0
5
1497
7
2
4
1
0
1
1498
24
12
7
5
0
0
1499
17
11
5
1
0
1
1500
12
7
4
1
0
3
1501
5
2
1
2
0
1
1502
26
13
10
3
0
4
1503
23
9
12
2
0
1
1504
4
4
0
0
0
0
Total
447
207
167
57
17
65
entered by the clerk in 1488. Although no explanation is given in the chamberlains’ book, it is feasible that he had suffered injury, sickness or other misfortune and in order to maintain their milling business his wife had taken responsibility for its continuance. Moreover, such personal issues may explain his subsequent disappearance from the records.46
Less than one in five independent workers during both periods had the ability or desire to remain in Canterbury for between six and ten years, or even longer (Tables 1 and 2). Yet, some artisans were apparently prepared to remain as intrants for long periods, such as Richard Osemond, who had started tailoring in 1405 and was still at work a decade later, having transferred his business after the first year from Worthgate to Newingate ward. Others, however, wished to become freemen, perhaps for security as well as economic and social advantages, and amongst these was another tailor. Having prospered, Robert Peny’s annual fee rose from 6d. to
STARTING A NEW LIFE AS ARTISANS AND TRADERS IN CANTERBURY (c.1400 and c.1500)
12d. and he had moved from Northgate to Burgate ward, in 1402 after nine years as an intrant he became a Canterbury freeman, paying 10s.47 Nevertheless, there was considerable variation regarding the stability of the businesses managed by these intrants, the greatest difficulties seemingly experienced at the start or in their final years. Richard Clerke, a saddler in Northgate ward appears to have struggled initially to maintain his workshop. He is first listed in 1485 and over the next decade he was fined only three times as an intrant, but from 1496 he was sufficiently established in Northgate ward that he was still running his business there in 1511 and his annual licence fee had increased slightly from 4d. to 6d. Richard Lechour seems to have experienced more problems at the end of his time as an intrant because he maintained his tailor’s business in Worthgate ward for a decade until 1402, but the following year it may have been his son or another relative who paid the same fee of 8d. as a tailor. This William Lechour then disappears from the records and Richard reappears for a single year in 1405 when he was fined slightly less (6d.).48
Trades and Crafts
Assessing the occupational profile of the intrants and discounting those whose trade is unknown, it appears that for both periods half the intrants were involved in either the leather or clothing industries (see Tables 3 and 4). In part this reflects the considerable importance of these industries in the city’s economy in the later medieval period, because Canterbury’s location at the centre of an agrarian regime based on mixed farming where cattle predominated, although not to the exclusion of sheep, drew in livestock to its markets for local consumption and to feed these industries.49 Whether there is any significance in the difference between the relative involvement of intrants (27/41%) in these two industries for the early and late fifteenth century is unclear, but it may be worth noting that the earlier larger number of leather workers had been reversed by the later period. In addition, among these workers, the high incidence of tailors and shoemakers or cobblers may reflect the position that it was presumably far easier to start an independent business if those involved had highly portable tools and did not require specialist premises.
Of the remaining occupations, about a quarter of the intrants for both periods were almost equally likely to be engaged in the textile or food industries. Even though the numbers are small, those working as independent weavers had fallen for the later period and presumably this had an even more detrimental effect on the numbers of women working as spinners who do not seem to have been recorded as intrants by the various common clerks.50 Another change that seems to have occurred by the later period is a growing interest in linen rather than woollen cloth-making, and also the arrival of at least one person engaged in knitting.51 Like tailoring, cap-making and shoe-making, knitting did not require a specialist workshop, but for the weavers the necessity of a loom may have required greater capital and limited their choice of premises. Nonetheless, there is little evidence of occupational enclaves in late medieval Canterbury compared to some towns, albeit the weavers were even more likely to work in Worthgate ward in the later fifteenth century than at the beginning of the century, which may relate to being upstream of
SHEILA SWEETINBURGH
42
TABLE 3: NEW INTRANTS BY YEAR OF ARRIVAL, 1392-1411, SHOWING OCCUPATIONS
leather
clothing
textiles
metal
retail
other
accommodation.
food
construction
not known
Total
1392
8
19
6
3
4
5
0
3
3
45
96
1393
5
1
3
0
1
1
0
3
1
17
32
1394
2
4
1
0
0
2
0
2
0
20
31
1395
0
1
4
0
0
0
0
3
0
14
22
1396
2
1
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
5
8
1397
3
3
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
4
10
1398
1
1
3
1
0
2
0
7
1
16
32
1399
3
5
2
2
2
2
0
3
3
6
28
1400
3
3
0
1
2
0
0
3
0
8
20
1401
1
5
3
2
1
0
1
2
0
11
26
1402
7
4
2
0
1
2
0
1
0
18
35
1403
4
1
0
1
0
0
0
3
0
12
21
1404
4
0
1
2
0
3
0
2
0
18
30
1405
1
3
2
1
0
0
0
1
0
17
25
1406
7
6
2
0
2
2
0
1
1
16
37
1407
7
1
2
2
0
0
0
1
0
14
27
1408
11
5
3
0
1
1
0
0
1
14
36
1409
5
1
1
1
2
0
0
3
1
12
26
1410
11
3
3
1
1
2
0
3
1
5
30
1411
6
5
3
1
3
3
2
3
1
7
34
Total
91
72
41
18
20
25
3
44
10
279
606
%
15
12
7
3
3
4
-
7
2
46
100
STARTING A NEW LIFE AS ARTISANS AND TRADERS IN CANTERBURY (c.1400 and c.1500)
43
TABLE 4: NEW INTRANTS BY YEAR OF ARRIVAL, 1485-1504, SHOWING OCCUPATIONS
year
leather
clothing
textiles
metal
retail
other
accommodation
food
construction
not known
total
1485
14
14
5
7
3
7
0
2
2
0
54
1486
5
6
1
0
0
1
1
4
1
1
20
1487
3
4
0
0
0
2
0
1
1
0
11
1488
5
5
6
2
4
1
0
2
2
0
27
1489
4
3
3
0
4
1
2
4
2
1
24
1490
3
3
1
1
0
1
1
0
0
2
12
1491
10
8
3
4
5
3
3
4
2
5
47
1492
8
5
6
5
2
1
3
4
4
2
40
1493
6
11
3
4
1
0
1
5
2
1
34
1494
3
4
3
2
0
0
0
2
0
0
14
1495
5
3
1
1
2
2
0
2
0
0
16
1496
2
8
2
2
1
3
1
4
2
5
30
1497
1
3
0
0
0
2
0
0
1
0
7
1498
4
10
4
1
1
1
0
2
1
0
24
1499
1
6
1
3
1
1
2
2
0
0
17
1500
0
6
0
1
0
0
0
1
0
4
12
1501
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
2
0
3
5
1502
1
3
1
2
1
1
1
1
0
15
26
1503
3
3
2
1
0
0
0
0
0
14
23
1504
0
2
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
2
4
Total
78
107
42
36
25
27
15
42
20
55
447
%
17
24
9
8
6
6
3
9
4
12
100
SHEILA SWEETINBURGH
the city centre, the presence of suitable workshops, as well as areas to set out their cloth for drying and other purposes.52
The passage of pilgrims and travellers, in addition to itinerant workers, to the city might have been expected to create opportunities for those supplying food and drink, especially during the earlier period when the trade was apparently more buoyant.53 These included the staples of bread and ale through the activities of bakers and brewers, and around 1400, at least eight cooks and a piebaker, eight butchers and four spicers. However, c.1500 the profile had changed somewhat because in addition to the staples there were a similar number of butchers, but the cooks and spicers had very largely disappeared. Instead there was a fruiter, as well as several beer brewers, including John Poot who for two consecutive years paid 5s. annually before disappearing in 1498 from Newingate ward.54
Yet, in terms of the provision of accommodation during the earlier period, the level of involvement by intrants was limited, and even though around 1500 the numbers were still small and the majority paid under 20d. per year, at least a few of these men were prepared to pay higher fees to become innkeepers. For example, John Carpenter and John Falowfelde each paid 6s. 8d. in 1499, although neither was listed the following year. What lay behind these high fees is unclear but for the earlier period innkeeping may have been so attractive that the city’s inns were almost all held or rented by freemen. In contrast, by 1500 returns had fallen sufficiently that opportunities had become available for others, and a few were prepared to take the risk in the expectation of financial rewards.55 Nonetheless, it is probably worth noting that even Rafe Preston, the leaseholder of Christ Church Priory’s great Cheker of Hope, was unable to maintain his business there.56
Together, the other occupational groups of metalworking, construction, retail and miscellaneous crafts involved small numbers of intrants during both periods, and in many cases they were only listed for a single year. However, for some of these goldsmiths, armourers, surgeons, apothecaries, scribes and book binders this may not always denote failure to prosper or even survive. Rather some may have fulfilled a particular contract, while for a few it seems to have been preparatory to becoming freemen of Canterbury. Among this latter group were John Tomas the whistle maker who joined the freemen after a year in 1392 and John Plomer, an armourer, who was an intrant for three years before paying 10s. to become a freeman in 1407.57 For the later period, Thomas Bokengham was licenced to trade as an apothecary in 1489 and within two years he, too, had become a Canterbury freeman, paying 12s.58
Locating businesses
The desire to reside close to those from the same region or ethnic group has and continues to be an important issue among migrants. Furthermore, this may extend to matters of shared occupation and is likely to have been a significant factor for those starting to live and work independently in late medieval Canterbury. As noted above, the intrant weavers during the later period generally congregated in Worthgate ward, but where precisely is unclear. The division of the liberty into six wards, compared to at least fifteen city parishes, means that designation by ward alone is relatively imprecise and does not identify whether the intrant lived
STARTING A NEW LIFE AS ARTISANS AND TRADERS IN CANTERBURY (c.1400 and c.1500)
inside or outside the walls.59 This is especially true for Ridingate, which was predominantly beyond the walls, albeit much of this suburban area was lime pits and other industrial workings, as well as fields and it was also a dumping ground for rubbish and other waste. Worthgate and Northgate wards, too, had extensive suburbs, while the smaller Burgate and Newingate wards were split roughly equally between land inside and outside the city wall, and it was only Westgate ward that contained little beyond the wall except for a small area of water meadow (this also extended inside the city wall).
Nevertheless, intrants during both periods were most likely to set up in business in Burgate ward, followed closely by Westgate ward c.1400, but this preference was slightly less marked around 1500. The presence of the butchery and associated Bullstake (the baiting of bulls before slaughter was seen as essential by the city authorities) in Burgate ward may partly explain this popularity because in addition to the butchers a sizeable proportion of the allied skinners and pelterers resided there for obvious convenience. The tailors, too, favoured Burgate, which may be connected to the proximity of the cloth market, albeit it was in neighbouring Newingate ward. For those engaged in the food industry and accommodation, these wards were similarly advantageous because Burgate was adjacent to the cathedral precinct and Westgate ward contained the principal route into the heart of the city from London. Such choices may reflect the socio-economic status of many of the intrants who, having accumulated sufficient capital to operate independently, were relatively well placed within Clark’s hierarchical pyramid and thus could favour these two wards. In contrast, the generally far poorer wards of Ridingate and Northgate were the least favoured, even though the tiny numbers for Ridingate may be an underestimate (see above).60 As a consequence, intrants were apparently deterred from instigating a business in Ridingate except for a few weavers and a smith, and for four years during both time periods no new intrants began trading in Northgate ward. When they did the annual numbers were small and they followed a range of trades from weaving and tailoring to metal working.
Regarding migration within the city, it is only feasible to ascertain movement between wards of those who were listed for more than a year; about one in five moved at least once to another ward, notwithstanding the numbers who relocated twice were tiny. Success or failure could have been the reason for such mobility, and even though any changes in licence fees may indicate the relative health of the intrant’s business, how this relates to moving wards is far less clear. Yet the spicer Hugh Goldsmith’s move from Worthgate ward to Burgate after a single year, his fee rising from 12d. to 16d., and his subsequent payment of 10s. to become a freeman in 1395 may indicate considerable success.61 For the later period, Thomas Fynche’s career as a currier is probably less straightforward because he moved from Westgate to Worthgate ward after a single year, his fee falling from 20d. to 16d. Thereafter he disappears from the lists for two years before paying 16d. as a currier in Worthgate ward in 1495, but the following year he was able to pay to become a freeman. Nevertheless, whatever the reasons behind such relocations, it was presumably far easier for some craftsmen to move compared to their neighbours, thus offering greater flexibility in terms of residence.
For migrants, the value of joining relatives has long been recognised. This may
have happened in late medieval Canterbury, yet the evidence is difficult to interpret
SHEILA SWEETINBURGH
because some common surnames probably do not denote kinsmen. Nevertheless, for sizeable minorities there were shared surnames among male intrants for both periods (62 in the earlier period, 41 in the later), which may indicate both extended and nuclear family connections. Among these for the earlier period were William, John and Nicholas Fulbourne. William had begun trading as a tailor in Burgate ward in 1384, and, although not fined annually continuously, a William Fulbourne was still there in 1411, having paid 6d. per annum. One of the years when he was missing is 1407 and that year John Fulbourne paid the same fee and he, too, was in Burgate ward. Nicholas Fulbourne is only listed in 1405 and 1406, firstly in the neighbouring ward of Newingate and then Westgate, each time paying a similar amount. Unfortunately the occupations of John and Nicholas are not recorded, but it is conceivable that these men were closely related. Among the father and son combinations is Ingel Pigeon and his son, the elder Pigeon paying 6d. in both 1403 and 1404, while Ingel junior began his career as an intrant (occupation not specified) seven years later, also in Burgate ward and at the same licence fee. Turning to the later period, William and John Ingram were both bookbinders in Burgate ward. William was the first to become an intrant, paying for one year in 1485, John two years later at the same fee of 4d., but in the following year he became a stationer and paid slightly more, but thereafter both men disappear from the civic records.
Households and Families
Even though the number of studies regarding the role of women as workers in medieval society has grown in the last thirty years, as significant contributors to the economy they remain understudied compared to their male counterparts, not least because the sources are limited and often difficult.62 As noted above, Goldberg has examined the incidence of life-cycle servanthood, especially with regard to migrants, using ecclesiastical court depositions. Looking at the Canterbury records, like their male colleagues, some among the independent businesswomen working in urban society were probably migrants, and those given the surname ‘Duchewoman’ or variant spellings were aliens. Furthermore, for the period around 1400 it seems toponymical surnames had not completely disappeared from the records, because Isolde Stafford appears to be the same woman as Isolde Tappestere.63 Even though the numbers of businesswomen are small in fifteenth-century Canterbury, the civic authorities apparent willingness to designate women as independent workers, whether as fee payers or in the city’s courts including wives (the civic authorities recognised the legal status femme sole from the 1460s) in addition to single women (spinsters and widows), suggests that they were viewed as important contributors to the local economy.64 Nevertheless, the more challenging economic conditions experienced in Canterbury during the later period may be reflected in the smaller number of women around 1500 compared to c.1400, and it is noticeable that a large majority of the female intrants were only recorded once, perhaps again indicative of the experiences they faced establishing themselves.65
Yet, as noted above, the combination of husbands and wives was apparently crucial for some households. Even though it is not always clear what (if any) relationship exists between men and women with the same surname in these
STARTING A NEW LIFE AS ARTISANS AND TRADERS IN CANTERBURY (c.1400 and c.1500)
records, that is are these primarily married couples or mothers and sons, the clerks increasingly designated women as the wife or widow of her named husband.66 One couple who apparently prospered using this strategy in the earlier period were Thomas and Margaret Kyppyng. Following two years of fines as the wife of Thomas while they were in Northgate ward, he took responsibility for the family’s business after they moved to Newingate in 1394. Assuming the fees paid relates in some way to the health of their business, the couple were thriving because the fine rose incrementally from 1s. under Margaret to 1s. 8d., remaining at this level until early 1411 when Thomas paid 10s. to become a freeman.67 Thereafter they apparently remained in Newingate ward, Thomas’s messuage recorded as being at Otehelle (Oaten Hill) in 1417 when he was also cited as a major beneficiary in Nichola Pickard’s will.68
For the later period, the Sparowe kin group provide a complex example, comprising three married couples, the husbands perhaps brothers.69 All were involved in the flax trade in some form and resided in Burgate ward. For over a decade from 1493 one member of this extended family was fined as an intrant, as though that person was seen as responsible by the city authorities for the Sparowe family business. The initial fee of 4d. was far lower than that paid thereafter, which was either 10d. or 12d., and may indicate that the family began trading within the civic year or that initially the business was small-scale. Of the three couples, Robert and his wife appear to have started the enterprise, but within a couple of years it was John, William and their wives who were responsible until 1505 when William was the last member recorded as an intrant, the family thereafter disappearing from the records.
To conclude, the intrants’ lists and other civic records provide a useful window on late medieval migration and social mobility, albeit there are problems of designation because it is unclear what proportion of the intrants were migrants. Furthermore, such sources offer methodological challenges regarding such issues as familial and marital relationships. However, notwithstanding these concerns, this article has investigated that group of migrants within Clark’s hierarchical pyramid who are frequently overlooked – small-scale craftsmen and traders, who might aspire to join the freemen of their town, but equally might fail as independent businessmen. This group, who in the later sixteenth century came to be known as the ‘middling sort’, often saw the period around 1400 as a time of opportunity, although for their successors a century later this may have been less so. Yet life was still precarious, whether due to external factors such as market forces or internal issues such as chronic infirmity or industrial accidents, and, for the intrants examined here, the role of other household or family members appears often to have been crucial, even in the short term. Consequently, through this assessment of Canterbury’s intrants at either end of the fifteenth century, this study has added to the wider, but still limited scholarship on migration and social mobility, by demonstrating the importance of the regional movement of people, the interdependency of town and countryside, and the considerable variation in the lived experiences of those who sought ‘pavements paved with gold’ in late medieval towns.
endnotes
SHEILA SWEETINBURGH
C. Dyer, An age of transition? Economy and society in England in the later middle ages
(Oxford, 2005), p. 36.
T.B. James, ‘Migration and the Southampton melting pot in the fifteenth century’, Southern History, 28 (2006), pp. 1-3. Even though some individual town studies mention outsiders, often they receive relatively little attention; N.R. Amor, Late medieval Ipswich: trade and industry (Woodbridge, 2011), pp. 73-8; J. Laughton, Life in a late medieval city: Chester 1275-1520 (Oxford, 2008), pp. 88-91, 103-6.
C. Dyer, ‘Social mobility in medieval England’, in S. Carocci and I. Lazzarini (eds), Social mobility in medieval Italy (1100-1500) (Rome, 2018), p. 23. Also see, C. Dyer, ‘Local societies on the move in the middle ages: migration and social mobility in England 1100-1500’, British Association for Local History annual lecture 2017.
England’s Immigrants 1330-1550 project: https://www.englandsimmigrants.com/ [accessed 25/03/2017].
James, ‘Migration’, pp. 8, 12, 16; P. Clark, ‘The migrant in Kentish towns 1580-1640’, in P. Clark and P. Slack (eds), Crisis and order in English towns, 1500-1700 (London, 1972), pp. 117-63.
Clark, ‘Migrant’, pp. 134, 138, 145.
P.J.P. Goldberg, Women, work, and life-cycle in a medieval economy: women in York and Yorkshire c.1300-1520 (Oxford, 1992).
P.J.P. Goldberg, ‘Marriage, migration, servanthood and life-cycle in Yorkshire towns of the later middle ages’, Continuity and Change, 1 (1986), pp. 141-69.
Clark, ‘Migrant’, pp. 134, 138.
See especially; Goldberg, Women, pp. 26-38, 280-304.; Clark, ‘Migrant’, pp. 118-34.
Clark, ‘Migrant’, pp. 128-32, 136-8.
A.F. Butcher, ‘The origins of Romney freemen, 1433-1523’, Economic History Review, 2nd series, 27 (1974), p. 20.
Ibid., p. 22.
For example, James Broke of St Mary Northgate parish in Canterbury also left bequests for tithes forgotten to St Mary’s, Reculver, wanted burial in the churchyard of St John’s, Thanet, and at his death had land in the parishes of Reculver and Chislet; Kent History and Library Centre [hereafter KHLC]: PRC 17/2, fol. 133.
Even though these records can provide ideas about migration, they have been used more often to assess changing population levels and the relative position of towns in the late middle ages; A. Dyer, Decline and Growth in English Towns, 1400-1640 (Basingstoke, 1991); and for an analysis of a particular town, see Coventry: C. Phythian-Adams, Desolation of a city: Coventry and the urban crisis of the late middle ages (Cambridge, 1979), and a re-evaluation of the evidence; D. Leech, ‘Stability and change at the end of the Middle Ages: Coventry, 1450-1525’, Midland History, 34 (2009), pp. 1-21.
James, ‘Migration’, pp. 4-5.
Goldberg, Women, pp. 8-20; R. Gilchrist, Medieval Life: archaeology and the life course
(Woodbridge, 2012), pp. 38, 53, 114.
A. Dyer, Decline and growth in English Towns 1400-1640 (Basingstoke, 1991), p. 73.
M. Kowaleski, Local markets and regional trade in medieval Exeter (Cambridge, 1995).
Among her many publications: M. Kowaleski, ‘Women and work in a market town: Exeter in the late fourteenth century’, in B. Hanawalt (ed.), Women and work in pre-industrial Europe (Bloomington, 1986), pp. 145-64; Kowaleski, ‘Town and country in late medieval England: the hide and leather trade’, in P. Corfield and D.J. Keene (eds), Work in towns, 850-1850 (Leicester, 1990),
pp. 57-73; Kowaleski, ‘The demography of maritime communities in medieval England,’ in M. Bailey and S. Rigby (eds), England in the age of the Black Death: essays in honour of John Hatcher (Turnhout, 2012), pp. 105-112.
S. Sweetinburgh, ‘Shepsters, hucksters and other businesswomen: female involvement in
Canterbury’s fifteenth-century economy’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxxxviii (2017), pp. 179-99.
STARTING A NEW LIFE AS ARTISANS AND TRADERS IN CANTERBURY (c.1400 and c.1500)
A.F. Butcher, ‘The social structure of Canterbury at the end of the fourteenth century’ (unpubl.); Canterbury Cathedral Archives and Library [hereafter CCAL]: Pamphlet M/22/34.
According to Butcher’s calculation using the city ‘Murage book’ [CCAL: CC-B/A/D/1] the priory had eleven inns; ibid. It was not the only institution which owned inns because in 1410 the bailiffs and commonalty acquired The Lyon (previously known as ‘The Lyon at Hoop’) next to the Guildhall; CCAL: CC-Woodruff 37/4.
CCAL: CC-Woodruffs/54/9; CCAL: CC-AC/1, fol. 33.
A.F. Butcher, ‘Rent and the urban economy: Oxford and Canterbury in the later middle ages, Southern History, 1 (1979), pp. 16-18, 37-43; S. Sweetinburgh, ‘Looking to the past: the St Thomas pageant in early Tudor Canterbury’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxxxvii (2016), pp. 165-70.
C. Rawcliffe, Urban bodies: communal health in late medieval English towns and cities (Woodbridge, 2013), pp. 363-72; S. Sweetinburgh, ‘Pilgrimage in ‘an age of plague’: seeking Canterbury’s ‘hooly blisful martir’ in 1420 and 1470’, in L. Clark and C. Rawcliffe (eds), The Fifteenth Century, XII (Woodbridge, 2013), pp. 60-1.
A.R. Myers (ed.), English Historical Documents, vol. IV (London, 1969), p. 570, citing Bodleian: MS Tanner 165; Butcher, ‘Social structure of Canterbury’, note 7.
These are recorded in the city chamberlains’ account books; CCAL: CC-FA/1 and FA/2 for the period under discussion here. They have been transcribed; J.M. Cowper (ed.), Intrantes: a list of persons admitted to live and trade within the city of Canterbury, 1392-1592 (Canterbury, 1904).
This would seem to be the closest to a definition of the term that the contemporary records
provide; Myers, Documents, p. 569.
For the purposes of this study, the date given is for the start of the civic accounting year.
P. McClure, ‘Patterns of migration in the late middle ages: the evidence of English surnames’,
Economic History Review, 2nd series, 32 (1979), pp. 167-82.
For Canterbury; https://www.englandsimmigrants.com/search/results?keyword=Canterbury& startDate=1380&endDate=1510&col1=name&col2=nationality&col3=date&col4=origin&col5= residence&page=6&residenceTown_untouched_facet=Canterbury [accessed 12/01/2017].
Butcher, ‘Romney freemen’, p. 19; Clark, ‘Migrant’, p. 126.
For example, John Malpas of Faversham (1496).
CCAL: CC-J/B/181; CC-J/B/215; CC-J/B/217; CC-J/B/222; CC-J/B/281; CC-J/B/282; CC- J/B/287; CC-J/B/298.
CCAL: CC-J/B/181; CC-J/B/215.
CCAL: CC-J/B/181; CC-J/B/215; CC-J/B/222; CC-J/B/289.
CCAL: CC-J/B/217; CC-J/B/289.
Of the aliens in the ‘England’s Immigrants’ project, the most detailed records are found for 1436, including Gerard Albright from Nymme, Gildeland [Nijmegan, Guelders]. CCAL: CC-J/B/289; CC- J/B/298.
CCAL: CC-J/B/215; CC-J/B/222; CC-J/B/282; CC-J/Q/286.
Sweetinburgh, ‘Shepsters’, p. 186.
Rawcliffe, Urban bodies, pp. 370-1.
J.M. Cowper (ed.), The roll of the freemen of the city of Canterbury from AD 1392 to 1800 (Canterbury, 1903); Thomas Hunterbourne paid 10s. to become a freeman, which seems to have been about the usual level, such fees ranging between 2s. and 20s.; CCAL: CC-FA/1, fol. 67v.
Butcher, ‘Social structure of Canterbury’.
CCAL: CC-FA/2, fol. 318v.
Cowper, Intrantes.
Ibid.; Cowper, Freemen; CCAL: CC-FA/1, fol. 54v.
Cowper, Intrantes.
B.M.S. Campbell, ‘Agriculture in Kent in the high middle ages’, in S. Sweetinburgh (ed.), Later medieval Kent, 1220-1540 (Woodbridge, 2010), pp. 29-35; Butcher, ‘Social structure of Canterbury’.
Sweetinburgh, ‘Shepsters’, p. 186.
A debt case involved ‘yearn’ and six ‘knyttyng nedils’ valued at 4d.; CCAL: CC-J/B/289.
SHEILA SWEETINBURGH
Butcher, ‘Social structure of Canterbury’. John Blakbrok left to his wife all his lands and tenements in the parishes of St Mildred and St Mary de Castro that included two shops with a ‘teynte’ [area for drying and stretching cloth] and other appurtenances in St Mary de Castro parish [in Worthgate]; CCAL: CC-OA/1, fol. 2v.
Sweetinburgh, ‘Pilgrimage’, pp. 59, 71.
Cowper, Intrantes.
Among those who had an inn within his property portfolio in the 1390s was John Roper of Westgate next Canterbury who owned le Croune in the central city parish of St Andrew, this inn having previously belonged to John Tyece another wealthy individual; CCAL: CC-OA/1, fol. 20.; CC-OA/2, fol. 4.
As landlord, Christ Church Priory assessed his goods when he was unable to pay the priory; CCAL: DCc/RE 16.
Cowper, Intrantes; CCAL: CC-FA/1, fol. 80v.
Cowper, Intrantes; CCAL: CC-FA/2, fol. 232v.
Butcher uses the city’s ‘murage’ book to assess the characteristics of the different wards for the
late fourteenth century; Butcher, ‘Social structure of Canterbury’.
Ibid.
Cowper, Intrantes; CCAL: CC-FA/1, fol. 23.
Goldberg, Women, pp. 3-20; Sweetinburgh, ‘Shepsters’, pp. 185-8.
Cowper, Intrantes; CCAL: CC-J/B/217.
CCAL: CC-J/B/263.; Sweetinburgh, ‘Shepsters’, p. 188.
Sweetinburgh, ‘Shepsters’, pp. 186-7.
Ibid.
CCAL: CC-FA/1, fol. 94v.
CCAL: CC-OA/1, fol. 31v.
Cowper, Intrantes.
PROBABLE SFB AT MARKET INN SITE YIELDS FIRST SECURE EVIDENCE OF EARLY ANGLO-SAXON
SETTLEMENT AT FAVERSHAM; SOME COMPARISONS WITH OTHER KENTISH SFBs
patricia reid
In the 19th century the term ‘Anglo-Saxon’ was not a neutral ethnic label of interest only to historians, archaeologists and treasure hunters. C. Roach Smith, the famous Victorian antiquarian writing in 1871, said about studying ‘our’ Anglo Saxon forebears ‘To Englishmen no study can be more important because to those remote times can be ascribed and traced the foundation of the liberty and institutions under which we live in peace and security’.1 The glamour of Beowulf,2 the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle,3 and more recently the Lord of the Rings give an additional seductive image to these forebears with the marvellous treasures of Sutton Hoo displayed at the British Museum (and in a recent film).
Yet the Early Anglo-Saxon period was known as the Dark Ages for a long time. These were people without written annals or great stone monuments to bequeath. Both the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles and Beowulf were first written down relatively late in the 10th century ad4 and were themselves nostalgic about that early period when the ‘Saxons, Angles and Jutes’5 came over the sea to the land that the Romans had finally abandoned in the early 5th century. Roach Smith pointed out that the recent revelations of the wealth and personal detail of the graves of the Dark Age folk ‘fills a wide gap in our early national history … correct and definite notions in place of the vague generalities which fill so much of the space allotted to the Anglo Saxons in our School Books’. One hundred and fifty years later has the Dark really been illuminated?
In 2018, John Blair, the eminent Anglo-Saxon scholar, published a monumental text based on the findings from a full-time three-year project starting in 2012 studying the Anglo-Saxon built landscape in Britain.6 By 2012 the PPG16 legislation had been in place for twenty-one years and the flood of archaeological findings had become torrential. Here is what Blair says about Kent:
Why, with such spectacularly rich cemeteries and minsters, such an abundance of metal Small Finds and the opulent sixth to seventh century aristocratic culture now revealed at Lyminge, is ordinary rural settlement so elusive?’7
This paper will show that at least in one part of north Kent the everyday domestic life of the Anglo-Saxons in this early period is not quite as elusive as he claims.
PATRICIA REID
The quest for light on Faversham’s Dark Age
Roach Smith’s quotations above were taken from a catalogue of Anglo-Saxon and other Antiquities discovered at Faversham in Kent and bequeathed by Wil- liam Gibbs of that town to the South Kensington Museum. He goes on to list a remarkable quantity of spears, swords, fibulae, necklaces, Frankish-style gold headdresses, unusual crystal balls with silver bands and several silver perforated spoons, all found in Faversham in a location named as Kingsfield. Unfortunately, these ‘treasures’ were all snatched from the ground by workmen involved from 1857 onwards in building the railway through Faversham. Gibbs, who lived nearby, hovered in the vicinity, and paid a good price. Later, from around 1866, this brickearth-covered area, owned by the Rigdens, was ‘dug-off’ for brick making: this also yielded quantities of valuable objects most of which went into the Rigdens’ possession. Not only metal objects but relatively large amounts of glassware were found. Some of these finds feature in the first edition of Archaeologia Cantiana in 1858, in an article by Roach Smith. Yet his list was itself only partial – Faversham finds also went to the Ashmolean, Liverpool Museum and other museums.
Andrew Richardson,8 reckons that if indeed all of the grave goods listed as from Faversham are truly from Faversham, and do not include ones found illegally elsewhere and smuggled in to be ‘legitimised’, then Kingsfield has to be the wealthiest cemetery in Kent. He emphasises the continuity and consistency of many of these finds, especially the circular composite brooches that are typically Kentish, as evidence for a Faversham Kingsfield origin. Richardson believes that Faversham was the centre for metalworking in north and east Kent, an opinion shared by others such as Martin Welch.9 The name itself, Febresham or Fabresham in early documents, translates as the ‘settlement of smiths’. Perhaps even more startling is Vera Evison’s belief that Febresham was also the settlement of glass makers:10 more glassware was found in Faversham than all the other places in Kent put together.
Unfortunately, there has never been any archaeological evidence other than circumstantial for these theories, and hardly any for activity other than burials in those early Anglo-Saxon days. Sadly, this lack of evidence even includes the Kingsfield cemetery itself for although the artefacts are extraordinary, nothing whatsoever is known about how the items were arranged in the grave, what kind of people received them and how the graves themselves were marked. The whole area is now completely built up.
When FSARG (Faversham Society Archaeological Research Group) was founded in 2005 it launched with a ‘Hunt the Saxons’ project (HSX): it has returned to this topic several times since: in 2018-19 solid evidence for those early Anglo Saxons was found at last.
Much of FSARG’s work involves investigations within the gardens of Faversham, Ospringe and Davington properties, often the only places where any archaeology survives in this area of extensive brickearth, gravel and chalk extraction. Very little archaeology had been done previously in the town centre – it was not conveniently cleared by bombing in WW2 and in the 1960s escaped an attempt to develop part of the centre and Abbey Street. Only the clearance of orchards to make way for the
SFB AT MARKET INN SITE: EARLY ANGLO-SAXON SETTLEMENT AT FAVERSHAM
new-build Queen Elizabeth’s Grammar School’s playing field made possible the excavation of Faversham Abbey and the finding of an unexpected Roman Villa.11 Even PPG16 had made little headway in Faversham in 2005, being limited to a few small-scale development sites.12 The Kent Historic Towns Survey,13 published in 2003 by the KCC and English Heritage, contains an extremely useful summary of what little was known about the town’s archaeology.
For FSARG’s first projects, HSX05 and HSX06, the gardens of properties in Tanners Street and lower West Street down by the Westbrook’s lowest crossing point at Stonebridge were excavated. The guidance in the Kent Historic Towns Survey suggested this area as the probable site of the original Anglo-Saxon Settlement. Edward Jacob’s 1774 book was also very useful,14 claiming that until the Norman conquest the main part of the town lay down near the river crossing, with the Domesday-listed market place and the early Yeldhall next to the Westbrook.
It was soon apparent that in places like Tanners Street and West Street the archaeology was so deep that the maximum excavation depth limit of 1.2m only reached the 17th-century post-medieval in most cases. In the area overlooking the Westbrook crossing, behind the 16th-century Bull Inn, a small amount of mid/late Saxon grey pottery about 50cm down was revealed in 2006. In 2008, investigation moved to a part of Abbey Street that was thought to be the site of the Royal Manor15 and also of the early Church. In these areas the archaeology was much shallower but although large amounts of Late Anglo-Saxon/ Norman shelly ware were found, evidence for earlier Anglo-Saxon times was not.
In 2016, FSARG concentrated on the Town Centre (TC16) and many fascinating discoveries were made, including some Ipswich ware sherds (see Fig. 1) in a garden next to Gatefield Lane.16 A charming foot passageway, Gatefield Lane crosses Preston Street and runs westward, renamed Cross Lane, in a straight line down to the Westbrook, reaching it at the exact point where Jacob had said the Anglo-Saxon marketplace, the Yeldhall and the ford of the Westbrook were located in pre-Abbey times.17 South-eastwards Gatefield Lane leads to Macknades, a Domesday manor. Fig. 2 shows the conjectured layout of Anglo-Saxon Faversham. Remarkably, footpath routes to the small manors around Faversham still exist, respected by modern developments. FSARG’s geographical focus began to shift eastwards along Gatefield Lane towards the valley of the Cooksditch. In 2018 in KP (Keyhole Pit)174 abundant organic-tempered pottery was found (Fig. 3).18 This find was made even happier by the fact that this 2.0 by 0.8m keyhole pit was in a large plot forming part of the grounds of the Market Inn, thus enabling the opening up of a
larger area, OA (Open Area) 186, in 2019.
The setting of the Market Inn site
The land between the Westbrook and Cooksditch valleys is a slope running down from a height of 24m at Watling Street in the south to 9m at St Mary’s Church and 7m at Standard Quay in the north, a total distance of 1.5km. This slightly higher ground falls away westward to the Westbrook Valley and Creek and eastward to the Cooksditch, both streams running south to north. The Cooksditch nowadays rises in a spring to the east of St Mary’s School and runs down past the Abbey Barns, to join Faversham Creek at Iron Wharf.
PATRICIA REID
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Fig. 1 Ipswich ware sherds found in Gatefield Lane.
The gentle downward slope to the north is related to underlying chalk dipping northwards to disappear under Thanet Beds and both then dipping under London Clay. Overlying the chalk in this area is a layer up to 2-3m thick of superficial deposits, laid down during the last major glaciation on the permafrost land south of the main glacier ice. These have been highly significant for human settlement. In this part of Faversham, the superficial deposits are mainly distinctive yellow- brown Head Brickearth, often overlying a gravel superficial deposit.
The Market Inn itself is a handsome building, built in 1865 on the corner of East Street and Park Road (Fig. 4). It has an unusually large garden: part of it is used for a Bat and Trap layout but there is also the equivalent of a building plot adjacent to this, surprisingly undeveloped for this part of Faversham but very handy for
image
SFB AT MARKET INN SITE: EARLY ANGLO-SAXON SETTLEMENT AT FAVERSHAM
55
Fig. 2 The known and conjectured features of Anglo-Saxon Faversham.
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image
Fig. 3 First organic-tempered find in KP174.
image
Fig. 4 The Market Inn.
SFB AT MARKET INN SITE: EARLY ANGLO-SAXON SETTLEMENT AT FAVERSHAM
image
Fig. 5 Section of Jacobs’ 1774 map showing site of the Market Inn.
archaeologists. Jacobs’ 1774 map shows this area as occupied by hop fields (Fig. 5) and on the tithe map of 1840 it is part of a huge arable field called Gate Field. This, then, was the setting for what was to become FSARG’s most important single excavation so far.
The Market Inn excavation
Full details of the KP174 and OA186 excavations can be found on the FSARG website,19 with only the most important details set out here. The large open area was georesistivity-surveyed in 2018. Two small trenches were dug at areas showing higher water retention and at 60cm down organic-tempered pottery was found. Further excavation in the pit KP174 produced animal bone and, lower down, slag. The edge of a likely pit or ditch was seen crossing the trench from west to east, dipping to the north,
This trench formed the heart of the area delineated as Open Area 186 in 2019. This was 8 by 4m, with a 4 by 2m extension later in the dig. It was hand-excavated with spoil sieved. Uppermost was a dark silty layer with small pieces of 19th- century pottery, animal bone, shell, coal, and glass. Beneath this was a deep layer context [17], a yellow-brown fine brickearth soil which spread across the whole pit topped by a thin (2cm) weathered layer that was a former exposed land surface. Context [17] was rich in a wide variety of finds, mostly post medieval or early modern. More surprising was a lot of worked flint.
Again, the next layer down [22] was topped by a hard pale surface though the subsoil was darker in colour. As [17] was removed from the whole area exposing [22], a rectangular area crammed with animal bone was revealed, its southern side
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Fig. 6 OA 186 with top level of SFB bone dump revealed.
intersected by the previous year’s KP174 trench (Fig. 6). The rest of the excavation time was devoted mainly to removing the content of this pit, with most of [22] remaining intact.
Three small interventions other than the animal bone pit were productive. The first was a large semi-circular pit/hole with stones in the base, against the wall of the trench to the north (Fig. 7). The second was one of two randomly located test pits into KP22 that revealed four delicate pieces of Roman pottery (London Grey Ware) (Fig. 8). The third pit was excavated because there seemed to be a small void beneath and this revealed a grouping of 33 hobnails, clearly in situ from a Roman leather shoe where the leather had decayed. The location of all these is shown on the site plan (Fig. 9).
The main bone layer was removed from the rectangular pit, with context numbers 65A/B/C/D according to locations within the pit. 31.5kg of bone was found in this layer, adding to the 4kg found in KP174. A complex dirt surface [95] was then revealed. Due to time pressures, the east side of the pit was then left unexcavated and the west side became the priority because KP174 had shown some interesting features associated with a high concentration of bloomery slag (around 5kg), charcoal and red baked clay. In some cases, the slag and clay were fused together. Careful removal of these deposits revealed a domed cavity with a flat floor. At the top of the dome was a channel or vent; on the north side of the cavity was another narrower channel entering the dome at a lower level (Fig. 10). Excavation ceased
SFB AT MARKET INN SITE: EARLY ANGLO-SAXON SETTLEMENT AT FAVERSHAM
image
Fig. 7 Possible large posthole with packing stones; see Fig. 10 for position in pit.
image
Fig. 8 Roman London Grey Ware pottery.
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Fig. 9 Plan of whole site; 34/33 is possible large posthole; 22/77 findspot of
London greyware.
SFB AT MARKET INN SITE: EARLY ANGLO-SAXON SETTLEMENT AT FAVERSHAM
image
Fig. 10 Possible bloomery cavity after removal of all slag; the black dotted area is footprint of exploratory trench KP174.
at this point due to time limits. Fig. 11 shows a section illustrating the relationship between the bone deposit and the bloomery cavity.
The main finds
3.7kg of pottery were collected from KP174 and OA186 of which the largest chronological category was Early-Mid Anglo-Saxon (2.1kg). Most of this came from the [65] animal bone contexts, with 59% organic-tempered ware and 14% sandy wares. The organic-tempered, hand-made ware was of two distinct types – either thick walled with a pinkish-brown exterior and a grey core or much thinner with more irregular walls, and a black exterior and core (Fig. 12a and b).
There were also 21 wheel-made, well-finished substantial sherds (10% of total weight) very different from the hand-made wares. These have been confirmed as
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Fig. 11 Section 6.1 – the trench wall showing the deposits above the bloomery top vent. [65] is the animal bone layer.
Frankish in origin: 8 sherds of Grey Ware, 4 of Black Burnished ware, 4 of general Frankish type. Of particular interest are the 5 remaining sherds from one distinctive pot – pale grey, speckled and similar to E-type wares from western Francia. This is certainly an exotic import as E-type imports are generally only found on the west coast of Britain.
The pottery found in the upper layers [2] and [17] is very typical of Faversham assemblages for the post medieval and early modern periods. There are, however, two oddities found elsewhere that will need some discussion. One is the presence of some Roman pottery sherds; e.g., a large, battered piece of samian ware, found mixed in with the Anglo-Saxon pottery, and secondly the pristine London Grey Ware found in the test pit. The other puzzle is the complete absence of any pottery, or indeed any other kind of find, between c.ad 700 and 1450: that is very unusual indeed for the Faversham area.
The total amount of Slag, daub, and charcoal weighed 13.8kg. Most nodules were sizeable, around 5 x 6 x 4cm. Although similar at a glance, in fact the nodules vary a great deal in character. Some have a high level of iron, identifiable from density and magnetic pull, others are highly aerated and contain hardly any iron. One slag nodule of exceptionally high iron content is fused with daub, the daub having a gravelly under-surface; this is possibly a tap iron sample (Fig. 13a and b). Interestingly, the heavier iron content nodules tended to be in the uppermost layers, and the froth slag lower down.
The daub nodules were smaller than the slag but eye-catching, being hard, knobbly, and bright orange red: 3.7kg of daub was recovered from the higher levels of slag, with around 30% being in the lower bone dump. A number of pieces had smooth surfaces. In five cases the smooth surface was painted white and in
SFB AT MARKET INN SITE: EARLY ANGLO-SAXON SETTLEMENT AT FAVERSHAM
image
image
b
image
a
image
Fig. 12 Organic-tempered ware: a) 1st type (thick, reddish): b) 2nd type (thin, black).
two examples the surface was curved. One piece of daub had a wattle impression. The charcoal, easily seen as a wood product, was scattered in small pieces through the slag layer. No hammerscale was found, suggesting that this was not a smithing operation but smelting or some other ironworking activity. Another noteworthy absence was raw iron ore.
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a image
b
Fig. 13 a) View showing near-pure iron with daub fused onto it: b) View showing
underlying surface with fused-on gravel.
Altogether 6,213 animal bones weighing 37.5kg were excavated from KP174 and OA186 in the [65] group of contexts, between 40 and 70cm down. Most of these were fragments too small to identify except in a broad sense, and the NISP (Number of Identified SPecimens) was 1,353. Although this figure amounts to only 22% of the assemblage by number, it is 67% by weight (Fig. 14a and b).
image
a b
image
Fig. 14 a) Animal bone types by individual bone count; b) Animal bone types by weight
of each bone.
CER: deer. BOS: cattle. SUS: pig. EQU: horse. OVI: sheep. MIN: small animals.
SFB AT MARKET INN SITE: EARLY ANGLO-SAXON SETTLEMENT AT FAVERSHAM
The five main food categories represented here are, alphabetically: cattle, deer, horse, pig, sheep/goats. (Horse is included as Pope Gregory III did not ban the eating of horsemeat until AD 732.) Whether examined by number or weight, however, the leading three taxa, in order, are cattle, deer and pigs. The high proportion of deer is most unusual for early Anglo-Saxon bone assemblages, as is the low proportion of sheep/goat.
In a number of cases, bones showed the hand of the Anglo-Saxons. One small metapodial, probably from a roe deer, had a slanting hole bored through it, possibly for suspension. Two other bones showed what seem to be runic markings – too regular and definite to be taphonomic in origin. Finally, there were clear dissection- type cleaver cut marks through many bones but hardly any of the small, closely spaced superficial knife marks that show cutting off the meat when actually eating. Absences are worth noting, with the most glaring absence being shells in the Anglo-Saxon levels. Neither were fish bones identified, though again fish bone is a common find in Faversham town gardens. Some bird bone was identified but none from edible species. Another absence was antler, in spite of the high proportion of
deer bone.
35.4kg of stone was found in the two excavations. Most was found in the upper layers, especially [17] and included fragments of sarsen and Kentish ragstone. In the lower context [65A] fragments of a quern-stone were found, probably Romano- British in date and no doubt plundered from a nearby villa site. Also in the lower Anglo-Saxon layers were nodules of chalk, consistently weighing about 30g: the use of these was a puzzle, as smelting was self-fluxing at this time.
Some of the flints found are large nodules of masonry flint, but the high number of worked flints in [17] and the absence of them in lower levels is intriguing. 66% of the worked flints are Mesolithic in date, including fifty microliths; this high proportion of Mesolithic is typical of the brickearth areas around Faversham. 12% were Neolithic, with eight arrowheads of various design. Heat stressed flint (‘pot boilers’) was also found.
Special finds
A number of special items of early/mid Anglo-Saxon date were found, shown in Fig. 15 a-e. First are artefacts made from bone or antler. This includes a double- sided composite comb made from antler with iron rivets, with differently spaced tines on each side (Fig. 15a). It closely resembles a comb found in Dover, giving a date of ad 550-700. A double ended, smooth pin beater was 9cm long, dated ad 550-800 (Fig. 15b). Finally, a bone pin with an oval flattened head and four decorative bands below was dated to ad 500-700 (Fig. 15c).
A number of metal artefacts were scattered through the 65 contexts. These included two lace chapes, a possible chisel, a key or latch lifter (Fig. 16d) and four short-stemmed nails. Other metal items were hard to identify for function: this includes a complete looking item which is possibly a hook or handle (Fig. 15e). These items are wrought iron with minimal rusting.
Finally, there was what turned out to be the most significant find of the season. The only Early Anglo-Saxon glass item found was a small, brick-red cylindrical necklace bead, dated ad 500-650 (Fig. 16a). It exactly matched one photographed
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image
image b
c
a
image image
d e
Fig. 15 a) Double-sided antler comb with iron rivets. b) Pin beater (thread picker for use with loom). c) Bone dress pin. d) Iron latch lifter. e) Mystery metal object.
in Margaret Guido’s colourful book on Anglo Saxon glass beads (Fig. 16b) – which turned out to be from the Kingsfield cemetery! It was one of those very occasional great moments in local archaeology when things come together.20
image
image b
a
Fig. 16 a) The red glass necklace bead, link to Kingsfield cemetery: b) illustrated
(encircled) in Guido, M., 1999, The Glass Beads of Anglo-Saxon England c. AD 400-700, Plate 6, Boydell Press. Reproduced by kind permission.
SFB AT MARKET INN SITE: EARLY ANGLO-SAXON SETTLEMENT AT FAVERSHAM
Early Anglo-Saxon phasing 550-700
Earliest: Iron smelting bell-shaped bloomery: that there was at least one bloomery on this site is certain, from the sheer quantity of slag, charcoal and red baked clay sometimes still fused to the slag. The slag is clearly a typical, bloomery product. The bloomery itself is less familiar, being possibly bell-shaped; although it seems to be set into a slope, this could be an illusion, as the presence of the stage structure at ground level prevented excavation behind the cavity. Certainly, the section drawn from the side of the trench shows the animal bone cascading down across the top of the bloomery structure (Fig. 11).
A more serious question relates to the date of the bloomery itself. Possibly this is an earlier Romano-British furnace. The lack of evidence for Romano-British presence apart from a scatter of much worn early Roman pottery and a few fragments of building material adds to the dating problem as well as the fact that all of the Roman material on the site dates to the first three centuries of Britannia.
Demolition of bloomery and infilling of cavity: no traces of stone, Roman building materials or red baked clay were found as part of a still-existing structure. Instead, they were mingled with the slag and charcoal, implying a deliberate and thorough demolition. The main slag level [71] and [84] and the bloomery cavity fill [72] contained large amounts of slag, baked clay, and charcoal but also a few early Anglo-Saxon pottery sherds and animal bone fragments.
Final stage: dumping: huge quantities of butchered animal bone and lots of broken pottery of early Anglo-Saxon date (later 7th-century, if the Canterbury dating is applicable) were tipped into the hole (Fig. 12). A bone pin, a pin beater and an early mid Anglo-Saxon double composite comb were also found in the dump matrix with a number of less identifiable metal objects.
The later Anglo-Saxon phase seems to be characterised by minimal activity. There is no evidence for mid Anglo-Saxon activity (no Ipswich ware, for example although some was found not far away in Faversham, see Fig. 2). Neither was there anything here of late Anglo-Saxon date although Faversham was an active market town and a royal manor by Domesday.
Overall Interpretation of Market Inn findings
It seems obvious that the square/sub-rectangular pit is an SFB. The dimensions of the only fully visible side of the Market Inn SFB is 2.6m and the depth is 0.3m down from the top of [22] which is well within the usual limits for SFBs. However, there are two problems with this. One is a failure to locate and excavate consistent vertical cuts around the perimeter and postholes on opposite sides. This is mainly due to lack of time though also hampered by the difficulty of plotting cuts in fine- grained brickearth.
The second problem is more serious – the overlap with the bloomery site. The presence of this feature implies an opening up of land on a much wider scale than for an SFB. Is this then a Romano-British bloomery furnace, similar to those nearby at Brenley Corner21 which went out of action by the end of the 2nd century?
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– if this one is contemporary with them it would have been unused for perhaps 350 years before the early Anglo-Saxons started digging here. Yet the slag/baked daub overlaps with the lowest part of the animal bone deposit.
comparisons with other sfb sites in north kent
Market Inn’s SFB and its contents can be compared with the best recorded and published of such Early Anglo-Saxon sites (see Table 1 and Fig. 17). The term SFB itself needs some care, as it is increasingly being used loosely. In some publications SFB refers to a specific type of building special to the Early Anglo- Saxon period. This usage dates them as being built up to ad 700 at the latest and found across north and north-west Europe. Fig. 18 summarises the model for this first definition, a) in plan and b) in a re-creation at West Stow, Suffolk. Size varies but is usually around 2+ by 3+m in plan and 0.3m deep. Usually, two opposing postholes are found on the each of the longer sides, these supporting a thatched ridge-tent like framework: argument still rages, however, over whether or not the sunken area was covered by suspended flooring.
TABLE 1. BASIC COMPARATIVE DATA FOR THE 6 SITES
No.
Site
Date of excavation
No. of SFBs
Other contemporary features
Agency
1
Canterbury:
1946-55
30
Small ‘halls’ , demolished
Canterbury
Marlowe Car Park
1978-82
Roman buildings and roads, pits
Archaeological Trust
2
Lyminge
2008-2014
4
Post built small hall, Great Hall, rubbish pits, ditches
Reading University
3a
Ebbsfleet Valley: Northfleet
2000-2003
9
Cut features, demolished Roman buildings
Oxford Wessex Archaeology
3b
Ebbsfleet Valley:
Springhead
2000-2003
2
Roman Sanctuary under SFB. Pits
Oxford Wessex Archaeology
4
Manston Road, Thanet
1996 -1997
5
Rubbish pits, ditches
Wessex Archaeology
5
Dover
Between 1970 and
1990
8
Roman ruins
Kent Archaeological Research Unit
6a
Faversham:
Market Inn
2018, 2019
1
Postholes/ Stake holes
Faversham Archaeological Research Unit
6b
Faversham:
Perry Court
2018-19
2
Unpublished at time of writing
Swale and Thames Survey Company
Canterbury and Dover are obvious examples of early-mid Anglo-Saxon settlement of significant size. Although not in itself a major Romano-British and/or Early Medieval settlement, Lyminge’s early importance lies in its being the site of an early Anglo-Saxon royal monastery. The foundation of this monastery in 633 by
image
Lyminge
Canterbury
Dover
Faversham
Manston
Ebbsfleet
SFB AT MARKET INN SITE: EARLY ANGLO-SAXON SETTLEMENT AT FAVERSHAM
69
Fig. 17 Map showing distribution of SFBs in Kent SFB map based on KCC HER.
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a
b
Fig. 18 a) Plan and section of a typical SFB: b) Reconstruction of SFB at West Stow (Suffok).
Ethelburh, daughter of the King of Kent is well documented22 and falls within many SFBs’ final period, as does the nearby Anglo-Saxon pagan cemetery excavated in 1953.23 The Ebbsfleet Valley and Manston Road discoveries of Early Anglo- Saxons are the outcomes of PPG16 interventions. The last entry, Perry Court, is yielding more clues about Faversham with two SFBs, along with other interesting features, found on an ‘unscraped’ large new development site.
Structure: in the detailed volume Settling the Ebbsfleet valley PART 1: the sites (2011) Andrews et al. point out the dangers of attempting a typology for SFBs.24 This is partly because of the complications caused by later interventions over the last 1,500 years which particularly affect the survival of original depth. Analysis of the measurements in Table 1, however, show that the limits seem to be 8.0 to 2.4m for longest side, 3.9 to 1.8m for the shorter side. The Market Inn SFB falls at the smaller end of the scale.
There are also differences in the number and position of structural postholes within
the pit. The conventional arrangement of postholes is to have one central in each of
SFB AT MARKET INN SITE: EARLY ANGLO-SAXON SETTLEMENT AT FAVERSHAM
the two longer sides of the sunken area but some have central postholes and others have multiple ones at one end or evenly distributed around the edge. There are also often much smaller holes in the sunken area, known as stake-holes. The number of these varies greatly, from 30 to zero. They are thought to relate structurally to wattle screens used to line the sunken area or to partitions within the structure.25
The content of these structures normally comes from a final act of dumping and/or from natural silting rather than occupational deposition during the life of the structure. Some SFBs have little content other than a natural silt: four of the five SFB pits at Manston Road were filled with an undifferentiated brown silt. Some SFBs, like Market Inn’s, have alternate silting and deposition. In others the whole cavity is filled with a jumble of discards such as pottery sherds, animal bone, charcoal, loom weights, spindle whorls, pin beaters, baked daub, iron slag of many kinds and iron nails. Scattered through this general debris are personal items such bone combs, pins, beads, iron latch-lifters and knives. This content is very revealing of differences in day-to-day life between places.
There are, however, also powerful arguments advanced by Jervis that the dumping event itself has a symbolic, ritual element,26 especially important when it is happening in the great transformative 7th century when power was shifting from local leadership to regional rulers, and from diffuse paganism to centrally organised Christianity.
SFB animal bone findings: by weight animal bone is the largest SFB-fill category. Manston has a high proportion of sheep/goat (54%), followed by cattle (32%), then pig (14%). At Ebbsfleet, the dominant type was either cattle (Northfleet) or pig (Springhead) with a suggested explanation in terms of better woodland access at Springhead. In the Dover account, animal bone is not mentioned unless worked. The Lyminge assemblage has the most detailed accounts, comparing the 6th-7th century assemblages from the SFBs to 8th-9th century assemblages from sites connected to the developing monastic settlement. The NISP for all species was 1,382, similar to Faversham’s NISP. In the earlier SFB assemblages, pig was the main species at 50%, followed by cattle at 18% and sheep/goat at 16%. Domestic fowl recorded 7%. Red and roe deer provided only a minute 0.3%, most of which
was antler: horses were represented by the same 0.3%. Fish bones were rare.
Among the sites listed in Table 1, the Market Inn assemblage is similar to that of Ebbsfleet/Northfleet in terms of domination by cattle but is unique in terms of the importance of deer, both red and roe. There is no mention, however, of wild boar which is present in the Faversham collection. Finally, in the Faversham assemblage the sheep/goat species are barely present, by contrast to the other sites.
SFB pottery findings: are set out in detail for all the selected sites in Table 2. In these assemblages, the same dominant types of Early Anglo-Saxon pottery are present, but in different proportions. Less common types are patchily distributed.
The three east Kent locations, Canterbury, Dover and Lyminge, concentrate on sandy ware, with less organic-tempered. This could reflect the local availability of pottery-making materials. The Canterbury area produces sandy wares from the Iron Age onwards, right through to the exceptionally sandy Tyler Hill wares. Faversham and Manston, on the other hand, are close to the Swale and Wansum
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TABLE 2. PROPORTIONS OF EARLY ANGLO-SAXON POTTERY TYPES FROM SFBS IN THE SELECTED AREAS
(based on weights of types)
Site
Organic- tempered
Sandy ware
Chalk- tempered
Shelly ware
Grit or quartz- tempered
Imports from N. Europe
Total weight
(gm)
1
Canterbury
C 7th mid- late only
largest
0
0
0
Yes
Not given
2
Lyminge
7%
85%
0
1%
6%
1%
8828
3a
Ebbsfleet /
7%
73%
14%
0
6%
0
13,345
Northfleet
(34%)
(4%)
(5%)
(% from
Essex)
3b
Ebbsfleet/
Springhead
90%
10%
0
0
0
0
3749
4
Manston
70%
17%
0
0
0
13%
4871
5
Dover*
19%
34%
0
21%
13%
13%
Not given
6a
Faversham Market Inn
73%
14%
0
1%
2%
10%
1793
6b
Faversham Perry Court
70%
17%
0
0
6%
7%
171 (sherd
count)
* Percentages calculated by counting from descriptions in report.
channels respectively, where mud and reeds are widely available. The similarity between both Faversham sites and Manston could, however, be interpreted as backfill-date related, with other places backfilling at earlier or later times. The circular argument problem here, of course, is familiar to all archaeologists and there is no doubt that the chronology of Early Anglo-Saxon Kentish locally-made pottery needs a closer look related to independent contextual dating and attention given to the two distinctive types of organic-tempered ware.
The other variable pottery category is the imported wares. These are highly distinctive wheel thrown wares, often decorated with rouletting and stamped decoration. A fine piece from Dover, dated to the 6th-7th century was part burnished and decorated with a stamped pattern separated by grooved lines.27 The Manston Rd excavations produced the equivalent of seven vessels, of ‘strikingly better quality than locally made wares’.28 These too were stamped and engraved, this time with chevrons and wavy lines. Lyminge had comparatively few sherds of imported wares, but this included grey wares and a ‘pimply wheel thrown light grey with quartz fragments’29 that sounds very like pottery found in the Faversham SFB. The Faversham SFB yielded 21 sherds, from at least 5 vessels. The absence of Frankish pottery in the Ebbsfleet sites and the presence of imported ware from Essex is related to geographical location and tribal links, Early Anglo-Saxon settlement west of the Medway being of different origin to that of the east.30
SFB AT MARKET INN SITE: EARLY ANGLO-SAXON SETTLEMENT AT FAVERSHAM
SFB glassware findings: are not so widely found. Dover yielded several small fragments, dated post 7th century.31 Manston produced sherds of two vessels of 6th-century date, probably heirlooms discarded when broken. The Ebbsfleet SFBs produced only small amounts of residual Roman glass. Sadly (considering the circumstantial belief that Faversham was a glass-making centre in the Early Anglo-Saxon period) the Faversham SFB dump contained no glass at all except for the red bead.
Personal items: among combs, necklace beads, bone, or metal pins there is a high degree of homogeneity. All sites yielded combs. The Faversham comb, composite and double sided, is almost identical to ones from Dover and the Faversham bone pin matches pins from all these sites. None of the glass beads matched the Faversham one, but the bead variation is expected – the significance here is that the necklace bead was found in an everyday context rather than in a funeral ritual.
Textiles: at this time production used a vertical warp-weighted loom and was the monopoly of women, giving them a high status that was lost later on in late Saxon- early Norman times when men took over with the horizontal loom and formed weavers’ guilds.32 The consistency in spinning and weaving equipment in these early days is pronounced, with the characteristic baked clay loom weights, pin beaters (thread pickers) and, in Kent, sword-like weaving battens. With spindle whorls, however, the form may be functional but the substance varies enormously from re-used Roman pottery such as samian, stone, bone, and clay.
Evidence for textile production was, however, less generally abundant than expected. The only textile-manufacture tool in the Faversham Market Inn SFB was a delicate polished bone pin beater. The five Manston Rd SFBs were similarly bereft. Although at Ebbsfleet several spindle whorls were found in the Northfleet SFBs, the identification of twelve circular lead weights as loom weights is weak – there is no reference anywhere else to metal loom weights.33 At Lyminge, loom weights and pin beaters were mentioned in the report on the first excavations in 2008 but little attention given later.34
In Canterbury, twenty-six loom weights were found in three SFBs, along with eight pin beaters and many spindle whorls made of varying materials. In Dover, a burnt down hut, rather than an SFB, contained 189 loom weights still in the place they fell in the fire.35 Where the number of known SFBs is small, notably at Faversham (as yet), the absence of evidence for weaving could well be simply because the loom weights, etc. were dumped somewhere else yet to be found; the Faversham pin beater is identical to the one from Ebbsfleet and suggests weaving nearby (see Fig. 15b).
Metal working: Dover may score high on textiles but apparently there is no substantial evidence for this. Although burned daub is listed for Dover, it is seen as an outcome of a hut fire: slag does not feature at all. The opposite is true for Faversham at this point, in that the lower levels of the OA186 SFB were crammed with iron-working slag and waste of different kinds (see above).
In an interesting paper on Scandinavian notions of inland and outland, Thomas Birch argues that in the 5th to 7th century period in Northern Europe, ironworking
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is always an outland activity and because archaeologists normally focus on the actual inland settlement areas the location of ironworking sites are often missed.36 In north Kent, however, all of the selected settlement sites except Dover reported metal working debris – burned clay/daub, slag, and charcoal: at Manston, hammerscale implies iron smithing rather than smelting, There were, however, only small quantities at Ebbsfleet and Canterbury. At Lyminge the four SFBs did not contain any metal working debris but a nearby vast midden dump contained large quantities: both SFBs and midden were close to a large 7th-century hall.
Metal items abound in all sites, mostly iron but some copper alloy (bronze). These are not symbolic items of war like swords or spear heads such as are found in dressed burials of this period but useful tools and decorative items, such as nails and brooches. The showier bronze items are easily dated because they are similar to well-known examples found in dressed burials from this period in east Kent but iron items can be more puzzling and may even simply be offcuts from metalworking. To complicate matters further, in all of the sites except apparently Lyminge, Romano-British ironwork is found in the early Anglo-Saxon levels, especially (unsurprisingly) in Canterbury and Dover. It can be hard to see whether Roman items have been reworked and/or re-used or are simply chance residuals.
Construction materials: Anglo-Saxon buildings of this period were, of course, made of timber, wattle and thatch and survive only as postholes or mould marks in facing daub. Daub with flat whitewashed surfaces is mentioned in the Lyminge account and wattle impression examples in Canterbury,37 both of these also found in Faversham’s Market Inn SFB. Romano-British roof tiles, brick fragments and rotary quern stones have, however, been found in most of these sites and again the question of accidental residuality or purposed re-use comes up. At Faversham, OA186 also yielded large flint nodules and consistently sized lumps of pure chalk, the use of which remains uncertain.
conclusions
The map of SFBs in Kent (Fig. 17) is a first and straightforward step in tracking down Blair’s elusive rural Early Anglo-Saxons. They cluster, as do those wealthy cemeteries, either on islands (Thanet, Sheppey and Grain) and along Everitt’s ‘Original Lands’. These comprise a sheltered zone running along the foot of the chalk dip-slope to the north of the North Downs, frequently covered to a depth of two metres with fertile, easily worked superficial deposits, served by reliable abundant fresh water springs and with ready access to the sea. They are also found in the valleys of the rivers that cut through the Downs – the Medway, the Stour, the Darent. All of the SFB clusters have associated features such as linear ditches, rubbish pits and some have larger buildings which are not sunken floored. With the six settlements used in this comparison, the similarities between the nature of the SFBs themselves and their final backfill content has been striking. The pottery has been the best described item in these accounts and shows great similarities in form and composition. Where there is a difference, as in the percentage of organic- tempered types this, Jervis asserts, is due to the narrow time period, i.e. the mid- 7th century, when this type of pottery was produced in north Kent. This would
SFB AT MARKET INN SITE: EARLY ANGLO-SAXON SETTLEMENT AT FAVERSHAM
link the backfill events of SFBs at Manston and Faversham to the mid-7th century, with the other sites’ SFB fills dating from earlier times. All six settlements have, however, some organic-tempered pottery showing at least some activity in the mid-7th century. All six settlements also have sandy wares, with imports at the eastern sites from Francia and for the western sites at Ebbsfleet, Oolitic limestone- or quartz-tempered imports from Essex.
The commonality of other cultural products is also striking. Personal items such as bone combs and pins, pin beaters and spindle-whorls, although never totally identical as in mass production, are contained within a narrow range of variability and do not seem to show a locally-based variation within Kent – probably due to these being the products of travelling craftsmen. Metal working is another matter. All of these sites had evidence for metalworking in the form of slag, with Faversham and Lyminge having evidence for actual firing on site. It is harder to think of metal workers as travelling craftsmen but not impossible – perhaps each settlement had its fire-up season with showy kiln building? The outcome is a commonality to the metal products that again speaks of strong communication and acceptance of conventions across north Kent at least, only possible if there is movement and meeting probably by travelling craftspeople.
Finally – and this is where Faversham stands alone – there is the wild animal bone. It is here that Faversham’s early identity becomes intriguing. Judging by the abundance of organic-tempered pottery of both types in the backfill, mixed in with the animal bone, this backfill event can, using Jervis’ claim, be dated to the mid/late 7th century, i.e. 640-680. This is two generations after the arrival of St Augustine in Canterbury and already at the new monastic sites mutton and lamb have become the main meat?38 Does the presence of so much wild animal meat in the diet of the local lord and his followers hint at a reluctance to accept Christianity?
In his book Blair describes a revival of hunting culture in the 7th century as ‘the most transformative of seventh century fashions … it inverted the expected relationship between core and periphery making hunting grounds central rather than marginal’.39 He then relates the hunting base camp of transient 7th-century Great Halls (such as the one at Lyminge) to the ‘interface between settled land and forest’ and relates this to the location of Heorot in the Beowulf saga. In this case the final question that arises inevitably from a find like OA186’s massive deposit of deer and wild boar becomes – where is this Hall, where people gathered to consume all this beef, venison and pork in the presence of their lord? Is it a modest slightly larger structure with no sunken floor as at West Stow? Or is it a ‘Great Hall’ such as the splendid buildings found at Lyminge, close to the SFBs and the huge midden? Or the structure at Dover originally identified as an early-mid Anglo-Saxon church by Philp but re-identified by Thomas as a 7th-century Great Hall?40 And why do SFBs go out of use at this late date? Are the infillings seen, like the abandonment of dressed burial, as the symbolic end to an era?
Fig. 2 presents a summary map of the archaeological evidence found so far for the Early and Mid-Anglo-Saxon periods in Faversham. Although a Royal Manor is shown, its location is circumstantial. Where else on that map would you look for the Hall of the lordly hunters (if Blair is right)? Following Birch, the site of OA186 with its bloomery and slag is on the outskirts of the settlement – the
PATRICIA REID
utlandr – the edge of the forest is not far away even now with the North Downs, and Blean Forest within comfortable walking distance. The bone dump with all of its associated pottery, bone implements, however, would not have been carried far. One site within Faversham which does meet many locational requirements is Cooksditch House – close to the parish church, lying within the area enclosed by early-mid Anglo Saxon finds and the SFBs, just down the hill from the Kingsfield cemetery, suitably detached and uphill from the working town and known to have been the site of a medieval hall.41 Unfortunately the site is almost entirely built over at present, but hopefully at some point in the future this theory can be tested.
acknowledgments
Special mention must be made of John Clarkstone with his invaluable mapping and surveying of the site: Mike Tillman for his updating of procedural instructions and his special skill in photographing the Small Finds: Maureen Wale for her extremely well organised and skilful management of finds processing and recording. Overall, though, it was superb teamwork that made this possible.
FSARG owe a continuing debt of gratitude to Dave and Sue who run the Market Inn and who have shown non-stop interest and support. Also to Shepherd Neame, the Faversham Brewers who own the site. FSARG photographs were taken by members with Jim Reid concentrating on the broad images and Mike Tillman on the small finds.
Finally, thanks to Paul Cuming and Rose Broadley of the KCC HER who pro- vided the author with the invaluable map of Kent’s SFBs.
endnotes
Roach Smith C., 1871, A Catalogue of Anglo Saxon and other antiquities Discovered at Faversham in Kent and Bequeathed by William Gibbs of that Town to the South Kensington Museum, Eyre and Spottiswood: London.
Tolkien, J.R.R., 2014, Beowulf: a translation and commentary, C. Tolkien (ed.), Harper Collins:
London.
Swanton, M. (ed.), 1996, The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, Dent: London.
Chase, C., 1997, The dating of Beowulf, Toronto: Toronto University, pp. 9-22.
The Venerable Bede, Ecclesiastical History of the English People, Penguin Books: London, p.
63.
Blair, J., 2018, Building Anglo-Saxon England, Princeton University Press: Princeton and
Oxford.
Ibid., p. 30.
Richardson, A., 2005, The Anglo-Saxon cemeteries of Kent, Vols 1 and 2, BAR British Series, 391.
Welch, M., 2007, ‘Anglo-Saxon Kent to AD 800’, in The Archaeology of Kent to AD 800, J.
Williams (ed.), Boydell Press: Woodbridge, p. 245.
Evison, V., 1982, ‘Anglo-Saxon glass claw-beakers’, Archaeologia, 107, pp. 43-76.
Philp, B., 1968, Excavations at Faversham 1965: The Royal Abbey, Roman Villa and Belgic
Farmstead, KARG.
For example, Canterbury Archaeological Trust, 2002, ‘An archaeological watching brief during ground works prior to the conversion of Davington Barn’.
Kent Historic Towns Survey: Faversham, Kent, 2003, KCC Heritage Conservation Group:
Maidstone.
SFB AT MARKET INN SITE: EARLY ANGLO-SAXON SETTLEMENT AT FAVERSHAM
Jacob, E., 1774, The History of the Town and Port of Faversham, J. March: London.
Owen, John, pers. comm.
FSARG website www.favershamcommunityarchaeology.com/ / excavations /Development of the Town Centre/ KP141.
image
Jacob, 1774, pp. 15-16.
Website KP 174 2018.
www.favershamcommunityarchaeology.com.
Guido, M., 1999, The Glass Beads of Anglo-Saxon England c.AD 400-700, Boydell Press:
Woodbridge, plate 6, 8iv.
KCC HER TR05 NW5 Boughton under Blean.
Rollason, D., 1982, The Mildrith Legend: a study of Early Medieval Hagiography in England,
Leicester University: Leicester.
Warhurst, A., 1955, ‘The Jutish Cemetery at Lyminge’, Archaeologia Cantiana, 69, 187-248.
Andrews et al., 2011, pp. 292-393.
Blockley, K. et al., 1995, Excavations in the Marlowe Car Park and surrounding areas, vol. 5,
Canterbury Archaeological Trust: Canterbury, p. 347.
Jervis, B., 2014, ‘Middens, Memory and the Effect of Waste: beyond symbolic meaning in
archaeological deposits’, Archaeological Dialogues, vol. 21, pp. 175-196.
Philp, B., 2003, pp. 81, 83, no. 18.
Hutcheson and Andrews, 2009, pp, 224-226.
Jervis, B., 2012, ‘Assessment of pottery recovered from excavations at Lyminge’, Archaeological Report 42, Reading University.
Andrews et al., 2011, chapter 1.
Philp, B., 2003, p. 108.
image
www.bayeux.wordpress.com.
Andrews, P. and Hardy, X, 2011, pp. 35-37.
Thomas, G., 2008, ‘Uncovering an Anglo-Saxon Monastery in Kent: Interim Report’.
Philp, B., 2003, pp. 74-77, plates III-V.
Birch, T., 2011, ‘Living on the Edge: making and moving iron from the ‘outside’ in Anglo-
Saxon England’, Landscape History, vol. 32, pp. 5-23.
Blockley et al., 1995, p. 347.
Holmes, M., 2014, Animals in Saxon and Scandinavian England; Backbone of Economy and Society, Sidestone Press, pp. 83-91. www.sidestone.com/library.
Blair, 2018, pp. 105, 176.
Thomas, G., 2018, ‘A New Kentish Perspective on the Anglo-Saxon Great Hall Complex Phenomenon’, Medieval Archaeology, 62.2, pp. 262-303.
Percival, Arthur, 2010, Cooksditch (unpubl.)
THE ‘GREAT PLAGUE OF LONDON’ IN GREENWICH AND DEPTFORD, 1665-1666
michael zell and jacqueline davies
The subject of this paper is clearly a very topical one given our current experience of the coronavirus pandemic. Readers will no doubt compare and contrast the public health policies of the authorities and people’s reactions to the threat three and a half centuries ago – and those now.
The ‘great’ – and last – outbreak of the plague in London was first noticed by the parish searchers towards the end of April 1665. A few deaths were ascribed to plague in the parish of St Giles (just west of the City wall) during the last week of the month, and nine or ten cases recorded in the first week of May, in the parishes of St Giles and two neighbouring west London parishes, as well as in St Mary Woolchurch, a parish near the centre of the City.1 Many of these City parishes were small, and could be crossed in minutes. In May 1665, the plague was spreading freely in the City of London. Samuel Pepys – at the close of a long entry for 30 April 1665 – recorded ‘great fears of the sickness here in the city, it being said that two or three houses are already shut up. God preserve us all!’.2 On 24 May Pepys visited a coffee house, where ‘all the news is of the Dutch being gone out [of port], and of the plague growing upon us in this town’, and on the 28th Pepys wrote, ‘my poor Lady, who is afeared of the sickness, and resolved to be gone into the country, is forced to stay in town a day or two’.3 The London bill of mortality for the week of 30 May to 6 June 1665 reported 43 out of 405 deaths as due to plague. Thereafter the death toll in London rose rapidly: 470 ‘plague’ deaths by the last week of June 1665, and over 2,000 ‘plague’ deaths by the last week of July. The numbers of deaths ascribed to plague by the bills of mortality – high as they are – may be under-estimates because householders sought to avoid their family members’ deaths being ascribed to plague. As the epidemic took hold, it may have become less easy to cover up plague deaths.4 At the same time, the sheer numbers of deaths may have rendered the identification of causes of death unreliable, not to say impossible. In the late summer and autumn of 1665 the plague outbreak in London was more serious than any epidemic in living memory: it ‘overwhelmed’ the capital’s health services, and the chaos that it brought may well have undermined the city’s system of reporting deaths each week by the searchers.5
By the end of May and during June, Londoners with access to a bolt-hole in
the country were moving their families from the capital. Many Londoners may have considered Greenwich (in neighbouring Kent) – just three miles downriver from the City of London – a convenient refuge from the growing epidemic in
SPREAD OF THE GREAT PLAGUE FROM LONDON TO DEPTFORD AND GREENWICH
the capital. During these early weeks regular commercial traffic between London and the Thameside towns probably brought infected Londoners – or infected merchandise – to places like Deptford and Greenwich quite quickly. But official recognition of local plague infection by the authorities in Deptford and Greenwich was not immediate. Deptford – also in Kent, less than two miles from the Tower of London – first recorded ‘plague’ burials in its parish register in mid-summer: five in July 1665 and 42 in August. In September Deptford had 117 ‘plague’ burials.6 The burial register of its neighbour, Greenwich, does not distinguish plague burials from other burials during this last – and most damaging – plague epidemic. For Greenwich the evidence of plague must be found either in written sources, or by calculating the numbers of ‘excess’ burials in the parish – compared to burials in previous, ‘non-plague’ years. Like Deptford, burials in Greenwich first shot up in August 1665, when they totalled 36 – more than double the average of about 14 during the previous three years. In September there were 46 burials in Greenwich (compared to an average of 12 in previous years). And they jumped to 89 in October 1665 (previous average about 13). Admittedly, the numbers of Deptford and Greenwich residents who were buried during the plague years 1665 and 1666 were small – compared to the many thousands who succumbed to plague in London. But the disease struck these Thameside towns with real force; there was most definitely ‘crisis mortality’ in both Deptford and Greenwich in 1665 (see Graphs 1 and 2). And what set the plague outbreaks in these towns apart from that in London was the fact that it struck them for a second time in 1666. As it also did in several Essex towns, most notably at Colchester, where between August 1665 and December 1666, between four and five thousand people died of the plague; almost half the town’s population.7 In the capital, recorded plague deaths fell substantially towards the end of 1665 and in the early months of 1666 (perhaps because most of the survivors had acquired immunity to the disease), and the infection did not blow
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MICHAEL ZELL AND JACQUELINE DAVIES
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up again in the summer. In the City, plague was finally killed off by the ‘great fire of London’ in early September. But there was to be no relief in 1666 for the people of Deptford and Greenwich. The Deptford diarist John Evelyn recorded, under 29 July 1666, ‘the pestilence now fresh increasing in our parish’.8 And Samuel Pepys, back in London since early 1666, noted in his diary on 6 August that ‘Greenwich is at this time much worse than ever it was, and Deptford too’. The next day, at the end of his diary entry, ‘I received fresh intelligence that Deptford and Greenwich are now afresh exceedingly afflicted with the sickness more than ever’.9
That plague spread from London to Greenwich should have been no surprise to anyone in 1665. People and business moved back and forth between the two places regularly and quickly in the seventeenth century. The Thames was the main highway between the City and Greenwich, but there was plenty of road traffic as well. Among Greenwich male residents whose occupations can be recovered – mainly from the parish register and from wills – the most common occupation was ‘waterman’, the taxi drivers of the Thames. Deptford was the site of one of the major dockyards of Stuart England, which was busy throughout the seventeenth century. Greenwich was the site of one of the most important royal palaces in Tudor and early Stuart times. During the Civil War and Commonwealth period, 1642-60, this valuable source of business for Greenwich residents temporarily disappeared. But with the Restoration the Court returned, and for a while it looked like the glory years might come back. Charles II initiated two new building projects in Greenwich in the early 1660s: first, the extension and refurbishment of Inigo Jones’ Queen’s House, just south of the old palace of Greenwich; and – by 1664 – the much grander project of taking down the Tudor palace and replacing it with a brand new one. By the time plague struck in 1665 a significant chunk of the king’s new palace – which would become the King Charles building in Wren’s plan of the 1690s for the new Royal
SPREAD OF THE GREAT PLAGUE FROM LONDON TO DEPTFORD AND GREENWICH
Naval Hospital – was nearing completion.10 And sure enough, just as the plague was raging towards its peak in London, the Navy office was transferred – at Pepys’ suggestion – to a ‘place of safety’ away from the capital: to the newly-built King’s palace in Greenwich.11 On 19 August Pepys received letters from the King and Lord Arlington ordering the move to Greenwich. He visited the new offices on the 21st, ‘they being in the heart of all the labourers and workmen there, which makes it as unsafe as to be, I think, as London,’ ‘which by no means please[d] me’. The previous month Pepys had sent his wife and servants to rented rooms in Woolwich (Kent) to protect them. After his job moved to Greenwich Pepys tried commuting from these hired rooms in Woolwich to Greenwich daily, but it required a good deal of late night and early morning travel. It proved onerous and time-consuming. Whereas Greenwich was full of people he already knew; they were clubbable and many had ongoing public or private dealings with Pepys. Eventually, in the third week of September, he hired rooms for himself in Greenwich – just before the plague reached its first peak there. From the frying pan into the fire, one might have thought. Yet, if we recall the plague ‘conflagration’ in London in August and September 1665, Pepys and other officials may have felt comparatively ‘safe’ in Greenwich in those months.
Indeed, the months Pepys spent in Greenwich – as the plague raged around him and his companions – were among the most satisfying and profitable that the diarist could recall.12 In Greenwich he worked – and played – with his superiors and fellows from the Navy, and with other men who supplied the Navy – then in the midst of the Anglo-Dutch war – or had private dealings with Pepys and his partners who had prize goods to sell. Pepys had been a Kent magistrate (JP) since at least 1661 along with several London/Greenwich notables (including Sir Theophilus Biddulph, Alderman William Hooker and Sir William Boreman).13 A number of Pepys’ professional contacts, as well as other Greenwich men – and women – shared with Pepys a varied musical life; in the Greenwich parish church and in several of Greenwich’s finest hostelries (including the King’s Head, which Pepys described as ‘the great music house’).14 Among Pepys’ acquaintances in Greenwich were men of the court – including William Boreman (Clerk Comptroller of the Household and occupier of an 11-hearth house in Greenwich), and George Boreman (Keeper of the Wardrobe and Privy Lodgings at Greenwich Palace); a successful civil lawyer, Mark Cottle, Registrar of the Prerogative Court of Canterbury (and the occupier of a 23-hearth mansion in Crooms Hill, Greenwich, with the best view in town, according to Pepys);15 and successful London merchants who also maintained substantial houses in Greenwich – including Sir Theophilus Biddulph of Westcombe manor (21 hearths) in Greenwich (a silk merchant, made a baronet in 1664), and William Hooker, Alderman of London (who occupied a house of 23 hearths in Crooms Hill, next door to Mark Cottle).16 Pepys’ bosom-friends in Greenwich also included less distinguished, but still well-off, men of business, notably Captain George Cock, who Pepys had known since at least 1662. Cock makes frequent appearances in Pepys’ diary in 1665 and 1666, and occupied a 15-hearth house in Crane South, near the Greenwich riverside. Cock was a regular companion in Pepys’ busy social life, but also a partner in Pepys’ prize goods business. Even in the time of the plague, men in Greenwich could easily mix business with pleasure. There appears to have been almost no plague quarantine
MICHAEL ZELL AND JACQUELINE DAVIES
measures in Greenwich in 1665; no ‘social distancing’. On 29 August 1665 Pepys (and other local magistrates):
called at Sir Theophilus Biddulph’s, a sober, discreet man, to discourse of the preventing of the plague in Greenwich and Woolwich and Deptford, where in every place it begins to grow very great. We appointed another meeting, and so walked together to Greenwich and there parted, and Pett and I to the office.
The plague in Greenwich continued to figure in Pepys’ diary. On Sunday 3 September:
Church being done, my Lord Bruncker, Sir J. Minnes, and I up to the vestry at the desire of the Justices of the Peace, Sir Theo. Biddulph, Sir W. Boreman and Alderman Hooker, in order to the doing something for the keeping of the plague from growing; but Lord! to consider the madness of the people of the town, who will (because they are forbid) come in crowds along with the dead corpses to see them buried; but we agreed on some orders for the prevention thereof … Thence with my Lord Bruncker to Captain Cock’s, where we [were] mighty merry and supped, and very late I by water to Woolwich.
By September the residents of Greenwich had drawn the obvious conclusion about the origin of the infection that was spreading unchecked amongst them. Pepys reported (also 3 September) that ‘I by water to Greenwich, where much ado to be suffered to come into the town because of the sickness, for fear I should come from London, till I told them who I was’. But of course, it was next to useless to try to cut Greenwich off from London. In this situation, your normal means of conveyance between Greenwich and London could be the source of contagion that might kill you: on Sunday, 10 September, Pepys
walked home; being forced thereto by one of my watermen falling sick yesterday, and it was God’s great mercy I did not go by water with them yesterday, for he fell sick on Saturday night, and it is to be feared of the plague.17
A few days earlier, on 4 September, Pepys referred to plague at the Greenwich hamlet of Coombe Farm, where he says that 21 people had died. Coombe Farm was on the route Pepys took when he walked between Woolwich and Greenwich town centre.18 Finally, in late September Pepys moved into the ‘three rooms and a dining room’ that he hired from a Mrs Clerke, where he would lodge during the remaining months of 1665. His landlady was probably the widow of Richard Clerke (‘Mr Clark’, a mason, was buried in 1664). She held an 8-hearth house in Crane South in 1664, and was, of course, a neighbour of Pepys’ regular companion in Greenwich, Capt George Cock. Yet it wasn’t all smooth sailing and musical evenings for Pepys in Greenwich; occasionally the frightening reality of the plague intruded. In early November 1665 ‘I hear that one of the little boys at my lodging is not well; and they suspect, by their sending for plaister and fume, that it may be the plague’. As a precaution, Pepys spent a number of nights with the London merchant, Benjamin Glanvill, who occupied a large house in Dock and Tavern Row. However, he soon returned to his rooms at Mrs Clerk’s.19 Pepys finally left Greenwich for his London home in January 1666, as the numbers of plague deaths in London declined steeply. He could not know that the epidemic in Greenwich was not similarly abating.
SPREAD OF THE GREAT PLAGUE FROM LONDON TO DEPTFORD AND GREENWICH
It had been a devastating year in Greenwich. Before the plague visitation of 1665- 6, Greenwich was a parish of about 800-825 households (based on the 1662 Hearth Tax listing for Greenwich),20 the majority of which lay in its urban core. Using the widely-accepted multiplier of 4.25 persons per household, we can estimate Greenwich had a total population of about 3,500 persons in 1665.21 The numbers of baptisms and burials in the years before 1665 suggest a relatively-stable population, without much ‘natural’ population growth (Graph 1). But population may have been rising modestly through in-migration. The arrival of plague from London in the summer of 1665 set off the most significant mortality crisis of the century. Burials during August to December 1665 ran at two or three times the average of the three previous (non-plague) years. In October 1665 there were over six times the usual number of burials. Even over the winter of 1665-6, burials in Greenwich were never fewer than double the ‘normal’ numbers. Only in April 1666 did the burials count return to ‘normal’. But – unlike in London – plague deaths shot up again in May 1666, reaching a new peak in the summer of 1666 (the July peak recorded roughly ten times as many burials as had occurred in July in the years 1662-4). Burials continued at ‘crisis’ levels through to November 1666 (Graph 3). During the whole 16-month plague outbreak in Greenwich (August 1665 to November 1666) roughly 740 people were buried. During the analogous period, between August 1663 and November 1664, there were just 180 burials in Greenwich; about 560 extra deaths during the plague period. Although the numbers who died in Greenwich were small – compared even to the monthly totals in London in the summer and autumn of 1665 – those deaths had a serious impact on Greenwich’s population. The 560 ‘extra deaths’ in Greenwich amounted to over one in six of the town’s pre-plague population.
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Graph 3: Monthly Burials, Dep�ord & Greenwich, 1665-6
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The ‘Great Plague of London’ had an equally negative impact on Deptford in 1665 and 1666. Deptford was closer to London than Greenwich, and its population was probably more urban and, on average, less well-off. A comparison of the 1664 Hearth Tax listings of Deptford and Greenwich show that Deptford was larger than
MICHAEL ZELL AND JACQUELINE DAVIES
Greenwich, but with significantly more small (?poor) households and fewer large (?wealthier) households than Greenwich. Deptford tax collectors designated 337 households as exempt (25%) in 1664, compared to the 96 exempt households in Greenwich (13%). At the other end of the scale, 27 per cent of Greenwich’s taxed households were rated on 5 or more hearths; in Deptford only 17 per cent were of 5 or more hearths.22 The average annual numbers of baptisms held in the two parishes suggests the rough difference in population: Deptford with about 195 p.a. in the 1660s, Greenwich with 155 p.a. – about 20 per cent fewer in Greenwich. Deptford had between 900 and 1,000 households in the 1660s; compared to roughly 800 in Greenwich. The record of baptisms and burials in the years before 1665 in Deptford suggest that it too – like Greenwich – did not have much net ‘natural’ population growth, although gaps in its baptism register make even that summary uncertain (Graph 2). Assuming the larger number, and a household multiplier of
4.25 persons per household, Deptford had about 4,250 people (roughly 20 per cent greater than Greenwich’s estimated 3,400).
The ‘great plague of London’ struck Deptford – like Greenwich – in late July/ August 1665, but burials reached a peak earlier than in Greenwich, in September. Unlike Greenwich, the 1665 peak in burials in Deptford was higher than the second peak in July and August 1666 (Graph 3). Looking at all burials, there were about 870 ‘extra’ burials in Deptford during the 15-months between August 1665 and October 1666; compared to about 560 ‘extra’ burials during the plague period in Greenwich (this a difference of about 35 per cent.) Finally, the Deptford parish register – unlike that in Greenwich – noted those burials which the officials took to be of plague victims with the code ‘pl’ added by the name of the deceased. Between August 1665 and October 1666 the register recorded a total of 874 ‘plague’ burials; almost the exact number of ‘extra’ burials compared to the analogous 15-month period, August 1663 to October 1664. The plague was responsible for an ‘extra’ 870 deaths in Deptford, or over 20 per cent of the total population before the epidemic.23 Estimates of the impact of the 1665 plague in London range from a fifth to a quarter of the capital’s population. The London Bills of Mortality show total plague deaths as just 69,000. But an unknown number of plague deaths went uncounted or unrecognised. Some historians argue that total plague deaths were at least 100,000; others suggest only a much smaller addition to the Bills’ total, say 80 or 85,000. Then there is the issue of London’s population in 1665: estimates vary from under 400,000 to over 450,000. And also, how many better-off Londoners managed to get out of town in 1665? It’s unlikely to have been as many as 20,000. A rough and ready suggestion is that the plague killed about 20 per cent of the London population in 1665. Judged against that estimate, the ‘Great Plague of London’ had an equally deadly impact on Deptford. To begin with, the 1665-6 plague was more devastating in Deptford than in Greenwich, just a mile further away! In part, the higher mortality in Deptford reflects the impact of an additional (although less severe) plague peak in Deptford during the spring of 1666. In part it is probably a reflection of Deptford’s more densely populated community. And related to the
density of population, Deptford was somewhat poorer than Greenwich.
The 1665-1666 plague period can be shown in detail, for both Greenwich and Deptford (Graph 3 and Graph 4). The graph shows the well-known seasonal pattern of plague in both parishes. The peak of plague deaths occurred in 1665
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Graph 4: Greenwich Monthly Burials, 1663-6
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Jan Feb Mar Apr May Jun Jul Aug Sep Oct Nov Dec
SPREAD OF THE GREAT PLAGUE FROM LONDON TO DEPTFORD AND GREENWICH
in Deptford, but in 1666 in Greenwich. It also reveals an additional – somewhat lower – peak of plague deaths in Deptford in spring 1666, but not in Greenwich. This tallies with the finding that plague in Deptford killed a slightly higher share of the pre-plague population than in Greenwich.
Greenwich – unlike Deptford, and London – did not identify plague burials, so we cannot be as definitive about the role of plague in Greenwich during 1665 and 1666. However, there is plenty of evidence that Greenwich was struck by London’s plague in the summer of 1665, including the committee of magistrates meeting to discuss responses to the plague, referred to above. The Greenwich authorities made use of a ‘pest house’ (built in 1635), located near London Street, in the Deptford (eastern) side of the parish,24 although we don’t know when it began to receive sick residents during this epidemic. The parish register refers to just three burials ‘from the pest house’, and those not until 1666. There is no written record of what measures the Greenwich magistrates or churchwardens took to mitigate the impact of the plague in Greenwich. They may have tried to limit travellers from London landing in Greenwich – as Pepys reported on 3 September 1665 – but there would have been little chance of stopping all personal and commercial traffic from the capital. And, according to Pepys, the Greenwich magistrates prohibited large groups of mourners from taking part in public funerals. The authorities tried to prohibit such large, public gatherings, but there was no effort to enforce what we call ‘social distancing’ in private or public. There is no evidence that local quarantine measures – like those imposed on households with plague in contemporary London – were applied in Greenwich in 1665/6. Severe quarantine measures had been enforced in Greenwich in 1635 by the churchwardens, and perhaps also in 1625/6 – when the parish register counted about 150 ‘plague’ burials.25 But the evidence of Pepys’ intense social life during his stay in Greenwich surely suggests that despite the dangers of contagion, Greenwich was open for business (and pleasure) in 1665.
image
Graph 5: Child Burials in Greenwich, 1665-6
100
90
80
70
60
50
40
30
20
10
0
Burials
As 'child'
MICHAEL ZELL AND JACQUELINE DAVIES
1/1665
2/1665
3/1665
4/1665
5/1665
6/1665
7/1665
8/1665
9/1665
10/1665
11/1665
12/1665
1/1666
2/1666
3/1666
4/1666
5/1666
6/1666
7/1666
8/1666
9/1666
10/1666
11/1666
12/1666
Early modern plague tended to have a disproportionately severe impact on children – the opposite of coronavirus in Britain in 2020/21. Graph 5 shows the numbers of child burials in Greenwich in 1665 and 1666, along with total burials. During the four months of peak burials in 1665 – August to November – children accounted for 56 per cent of burials. In 1666, the period of peak burials was July to October, during which time ‘child’ burials came to 62 per cent of all burials. The 1666 plague peak was higher than that in 1665 – 282 burials compared to 226 in 1665, which suggests that the more severe the plague outbreak, the higher the proportion of children affected.
Because the Greenwich hearth tax listing of 1664 assigned hearth-tax payers to roads, it is possible to link many burials during the plague outbreak to specific roads – and thus to discover if some parts of the town were more affected than others (see Fig. 1). Admittedly, we can’t be certain which burials were ‘plague burials’, and which were not. Early-modern urban plague deaths tended to cluster in households, and we can see many families in 1665-6 with multiple burials; and many of these can be assigned to roads (Table 1). The wife and two children of Nicholas Couch of East Lane were buried in August/September 1665. And Pepys’ musical barber, Reuben Golding, who lived in Dock and Tavern Row, lost his wife, a child and a ‘youth’ in 1666. From the Hearth Tax return we can see which roads had larger share of houses with many hearths, and which were dominated by one or two-hearth houses. Since the numbers of hearths are a rough guide to the wealth of households, it is possible to ask if plague struck more heavily in the ‘poorer’ roads, or was more randomly distributed across the whole town/ parish. However, more than half of burials in this plague period cannot be traced to tax-paying households in 1664 or assigned to roads.26 And, there are evidential problems which make an examination of the social/geographical dimensions of the outbreak less straightforward than at first sight: about 90 poorer households were exempted from payment of the hearth tax, and not assigned to a ‘road’ in the hearth tax list. Several of the ‘roads’ in the hearth tax list extend beyond the
image
River Thames to North of Greenwich
Fisher Lane
Dock & Tavern
Row
Crane
South
Stable Street
Royal Palace
High Street
West
Turpin Lane
Church
High Street East
Coombe
Farm ->
Wall
Royal Park
More royal park and further south, Blackheath
Hill
The King’s Barn
Saint Alfege
+
East Lane (East?)
Back Lane (East Lane West?)
Billingsgate
Church / High Street
SPREAD OF THE GREAT PLAGUE FROM LONDON TO DEPTFORD AND GREENWICH
East Lane Continues up to Westcomb Manor ->
London Street
Crooms Hill
Fig. 1 Schematic Map of 17th-century Greenwich
central core and include houses in the rural parts of the parish. Households in the hamlet of Coombe Farm were assigned to East Lane, for example. Several other roads are neither ‘wealthy’ or ‘poor’ (e.g. High Street East and West, and London Street). Nevertheless, some hearth tax ‘roads’ are noticeably well-off (e.g. Crooms Hill and East Lane) and several others are very clearly ‘poor’ (e.g. Fisher Lane
MICHAEL ZELL AND JACQUELINE DAVIES
TABLE 1. GREENWICH BURIALS IDENTIFIED BY ‘ROAD’
JUNE 1665-DEC 1666
Greenwich ‘roads’
Number of houses
Mean number of hearths
Households with deaths
Individual deaths [av. no.
per house along ‘road’]
Dock & Tavern Row
35
5.2
15 (43%)
38 [1.09]
Fisher Lane
32
2.4
14 (44%)
31 [0.97]
Billingsgate
34
2.9
14 (41%)
31 [0.91]
High Street West
57
3.3
17 (30%)
32 [0.56]
East Lane West
42
5.1
11 (26%)
23 [0.55]
Church Wall
33
3.7
11 (33%)
26 [0.79]
High Street East
69
3.8
13 (19%)
26 [0.38]
East Lane East
58
5.6
20 (34%)
20 [0.34]
London Street
29
4.5
11 (38%)
21 [0.72]
Crane South
43
4.2
11 (26%)
20 [0.47]
Crooms Hill
34
7.7
9 (26%)
15 [0.44]
Stable Street
19
3.1
3 (16%)
8 [0.42]
The Kings Barn
8
4.1
3 (38%)
3 [0.38]
‘Not Chargeable’
92
1.8
38 (41%)
75 [0.82]
and Billingsgate). By and large, the ‘poorer’ roads are also close to the Greenwich riverside, and on the London side of Greenwich (west of Greenwich Palace). Slightly anomalous is Dock and Tavern Row: not remarkably ‘poor’ (as measured by the average size of houses), but it was on the Greenwich riverside, and a centre of business and social life. And it appears to have been one of the roads most affected by the plague, along with Fisher Lane and Billingsgate. Crooms Hill, full of large households, and mainly located up the hill and away from the Thames, was less seriously hit by deaths during the plague period (mid-1665 to late 1666); as was High Street East and West.
The crude numbers of burials by road during the plague period can be revealing. Just 20 burials from East Lane East have been identified by the authors (which had 58 medium-sized and large houses in 1664); only 26 burials from High Street East (with 69 – mainly medium-sized – houses); and only 15 burials from Crooms Hill (with 34 – mainly large – houses). In contrast, the authors identified 37 burials from Dock and Tavern Row (with 35 households); 29 burials from Fisher Lane (32 houses); and 31 burials from Billingsgate (34 houses). The main factor here seems to be location, not wealth: although Dock and Tavern Row was a comparatively well-off road, all three were riverside roads.27 The other two were on the riverside and quite poor. That wealth was nevertheless an independent and significant variable is also suggested by the comparatively high number of burials among exempt households that we cannot assign to a Greenwich ‘road’: at least 75 burials from the roughly 90 exempt households. The concentration of plague burials in
SPREAD OF THE GREAT PLAGUE FROM LONDON TO DEPTFORD AND GREENWICH
the poorer parishes of London in 1665 was noticed by contemporaries and later historians alike. Here’s Roger L’Estrange in his own newssheet, The Intelligencer, on 14 August 1665:
In the City (that is to say in the close and filthy alleys and corners about it) the Plague is very much increased, but in the broad and open streets, there is but little appearance of it. The last Bill reckons 2,817 of the Plague where of 208 within the walls of the City. The main part of the rest in half a score of the Out Parishes; and those too, in the sluttish parts of those parishes where the poor are crowded up together and in multitudes Infect one another.28
The pattern was repeated but with less deadly results in Greenwich in 1665 and 1666. Poorer parts of Greenwich suffered more deaths; households on the wealthier roads suffered fewer. Nevertheless, Greenwich had no significant, densely-populated slums similar to the ‘out-parishes’ of London in the seventeenth century. It is possible, that parts of Deptford, were smaller versions of London’s slum parishes. But the sources that might help produce a geographical analysis of death in Deptford in 1665 and 1666 are absent.
The authors’ tentative conclusion must be that no part of Greenwich escaped the plague in these years, but that its impact was more severe among households near the river (especially the riverside roads west of Greenwich Palace) and among the poor. On the other hand, there were many burials of adults or children from households of the ‘middling sort’ during the extended plague period: mariners, merchants and sea captains, along with plenty of skilled tradesmen, watermen and labourers. Rose Bedbury, widow, for example, headed a four-hearth household in High Street West in 1664. Her late husband, Henry Bedbury, chandler, had died in 1661, but they were not poor. She had been taxed on six hearths in 1662, and her 1665 will left £5 to a servant. Most of her goods were to be sold (except certain goods left to her daughter Anne), and the money was to be spent on the upkeep of her two younger children, including £20 to her younger son Henry ‘to put him forth an apprentice’.29 Her will doesn’t refer to the plague, but the fact that she was only about 45 years old when she made her will – and was buried soon after – suggests at least that she feared she had the disease. The Greenwich burial register in November 1665 records first the burials of Rose and of her son Henry. Some days later followed the burial of ‘Ann Bedbury, a child’. Her elder son Charles – who was not living with his mother in 1665 – survived the first wave of the plague, but died soon after. Charles Bedbury, ‘batchelor’, left a nuncupative will before he was buried in February 1666. He left £5 to his ‘loving master, John Rowles of Greenwich, painter-stainer’ as well as a box of linen ‘lately given Charles by his mother, ‘Rose Bedbury, dec’.30 He was the last of his family.
As in contemporary London, the poor and the transient were likely to succumb to the plague: the Greenwich burial register for these plague months listed four unidentified seamen, seven nameless ‘poor’ people, two ‘strangers’ and a man who ‘died in the fields’. The fact that the estimated proportion of ‘plague’ deaths was higher in Deptford than in Greenwich can be explained both by Deptford’s greater closeness to London, and by the higher proportion of poor households in Deptford than in Greenwich. Deptford may well have lost an equal, or nearly
MICHAEL ZELL AND JACQUELINE DAVIES
equal, proportion of its existing population during 1665-6 as London did in 1665. Historians have estimated that nearly a quarter of London’s residents died in the 1665 plague. Uncertainty remains, however, because no one knows what proportion of the capital’s residents left their city in the summer and autumn that year. The number of people ‘at risk’ of the plague in those months can only be guessed at.
The largest single category of burials in Greenwich was of children from settled households. Indeed, the most striking feature of the plague in Greenwich and Deptford in 1665 and 1666 was the terrible toll of children who died, rather than any over-representation among the poor. It is possible that children were more likely to catch the plague in 1665 because many adults – certainly most of the elderly – benefited from some degree of immunity to the plague, acquired during earlier outbreaks in the 1620s and 1630s. No section of the population in twenty- first century Britain has benefitted from any acquired immunity from coronavirus. There are other points of comparison between the plague outbreak of 1665 and 1666 in the Thameside towns, and the coronavirus epidemic that we have been living with recently. In the seventeenth century, the experience of plague in London was different from that of Deptford and Greenwich. Unlike in London, Deptford and Greenwich suffered a second and equally-devastating wave of the plague in 1666 because the authorities there – unlike in London –failed to suppress the infection in its initial wave; and, less importantly, because London had its ‘great fire’. The community leaders of Greenwich (and Deptford) had neither the personnel and institutions, nor the political will to control the spread of infection in 1665; it naturally reared up again in the following spring and summer. The Greenwich magistrates and churchwardens imposed no curfew in their towns; the taverns remained open and busy. They made no attempt to isolate households with plague sufferers. And there were no attempts to impose any form of lockdown. Scores of labourers and craftsmen, for example, continued to come and go to the palace building site in Greenwich in 1665,31 and the Thames watermen continued to ply their trade (and transmit infection) between the capital and Greenwich throughout the period. Neither Deptford or Greenwich were boroughs and so had little in the way of a municipal apparatus which might have taken more active measures to contain the infection, something that the Corporation of London did attempt in 1665. But, containing the spread of an easily-transmissible disease is
never easy, even with the resources and powers of a modern bureaucratic state.
endnotes
John Bell, London’s Remembrancer … a true accompt of every particular weeks christenings and mortality in all the years of pestilence … bills of mortality being XVIII years (1665).
www.pepysdiary.com/diary/1665/04/30/.
www.pepysdiary.com/diary/1665/05/24/ and /05/28.
Pepys felt that the bills missed out many deaths: his diary entry for 31/08/1665 records the latest bill of mortality total [for 22-29 August] of 7,496 (of which 6,102 were from plague), ‘but it is feared that the true number of the dead this week is near 10,000; partly from the poor that cannot be taken notice of, through the greatness of the number, and partly from the Quakers and others that will not have any bell ring for them’. www.pepysdiary.com/diary/1665/08/31/.
For the plague in London there are several modern accounts: James Leasor, The Plague and the Fire (1962); A.L. Moote and D.C. Moote, The Great Plague (2008); Stephen Porter, The Great Plague of London (2009).
SPREAD OF THE GREAT PLAGUE FROM LONDON TO DEPTFORD AND GREENWICH
The source for all references to burials in both Deptford and Greenwich are the parishes’ burial registers, now held in the London Metropolitan Archives, 40 Northampton Road, London EC1R 0HB, and accessed through Ancestry.com, available in many local libraries.
‘Tudor and Stuart Colchester: Introduction’, in A History of the County of Essex: Volume 9, the Borough of Colchester, ed. Janet Cooper and C.R. Elrington (London, 1994), pp. 67-76. British History Online http://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/essex/vol9/pp67-76 [accessed 6 April 2021].
The Diary of John Evelyn, FRS, ed. William Bray (Everyman Library, 1907), ii, p. 8.
www.pepysdiary.com/diary/1666/08/06/ and www.pepysdiary.com/diary/1666/08/07/.
On Charles II’s building projects at Greenwich, see H.M. Colvin (ed.), History of the King’s Works, v, 1660-1780 (1963). Building accounts for the Greenwich palace work are in The National Archives [TNA] WORK 5/1-8.
Clare Tomalin, Samuel Pepys: The Unequalled Self (Penguin, London (2003), p. 174, and for Pepys and the plague more generally, ch. 4 of Tomalin’s book.
www.pepysdiary.com/diary/1665/12/31/ ‘I have never lived so merrily (besides that I never got so much) as I have done this plague time, by my Lord Bruncker’s and Capt Cock’s good company, and the acquaintance of Mrs Knipp, Coleman and her husband, and Mr Lanier, and great store of dancings we have had at my cost (which I was willing to indulge myself and wife) at my lodgings’.
Calendar of Assize Records: Kent Indictments, Charles II, 1660-75, ed. J.S. Cockburn (1995), items 19, 73.
www.pepysdiary.com/diary/1665/09/27/.
www.pepysdiary.com/diary/1665/12/26/.
The source for all references to the households of Greenwich residents is Duncan Harrington (ed.), Kent Hearth Tax Assessment, Lady Day, 1664 (British Record Society and the KAS, 2000): Deptford at pp. 2-14; Greenwich at pp. 24-33. As well as the introductions in the printed Kent hearth tax volume, essential background about the Restoration hearth taxes starts with Nick Alldridge (ed.), The Hearth Tax: problems and possibilities (1984), especially arts by Arkell and Husbands; Kevin Schurer and Tom Arkell (eds), Surveying the People (1992); and Nigel Goose, ‘How accurately do hearth tax returns reflect wealth?’, Local Population Studies, 67 (Autumn 2001).
www.pepysdiary.com/diary/1665/09/10/.
www.pepysdiary.com/diary/1665/09/04/. The burial register doesn’t usually identify burials from a named hamlet or road. But there were five burials from the household of Robert Walker ‘at Coombe Farm’ in August-September 1665, and a number of ‘poor’ people from Coombe Farm were also buried in August 1665.
See diary entries for 4 and 8 November 1665.
TNA E179/249/25/1.
Tom Arkell, ‘Multiplying factors for estimating population totals from the hearth tax’, Local Population Studies, 28 (1982).
Kent Hearth Tax, pp. 2-14, 24-33.
A note of caution should be registered here: in the core plague periods (Aug-Nov 1665 and July-September 1666) the burial register identifies the vast majority of burials as ‘plague’ burials: 337 out of 397 burials (85%) in Aug-Nov 1665, and 249 out of 287 burials (87%) in July-Sept 1666. Is it possible that the parish clerk was over-recording plague as the cause of death in the face of such unprecedented mortality?
Local jurors said a pest house had been built in Charles I’s time, in their reply to a survey of the Lordship of Greenwich made by Samuel Travers in 1694/5, which is recorded in John Kimbell, An Account of the Legacies … appertaining to … Greenwich (1816), p. 224 and on map (an appendix), located south of London Street.
Frances Ward, ‘Plague in the Hundred of Blackheath’, Greenwich and Lewisham Antiquarian Society (1981-2), pp. 179-199, gives a detailed account of the elaborate local efforts to fight the plague in 1635 – based on surviving churchwardens’ accounts. That outbreak affected only about 20 people, but spurred measures similar to those implemented in London – including boarding off plague sufferers in their houses. There’s no evidence that such measures were enforced in 1625, the only serious plague outbreak to effect Greenwich before 1665.
MICHAEL ZELL AND JACQUELINE DAVIES
Nevertheless, many of the households with burials in 1665-6 can be traced in other sources besides the 1664 hearth tax list: some were rated for the 1662 hearth tax (which was more inclusive than that of 1664) and some can also be traced in the parish register as settled Greenwich households. Probably only a small minority of the burials were of transients and poor lodgers.
Stable Street, which was located in Greenwich town centre, just back from Fisher Lane, is – for the moment – an unexplained anomaly: by its location alone, it should have been a much more deadly place. But it wasn’t.
Quoted in D.R. Belhouse, ‘London Plague Statistics in 1665’, J. of Official Statistics, xiv, no. 2 (1998), p. 233.
1662 Greenwich hearth tax: TNA E179/249/25/1 mem 5, col. 1. Rose’s will in Kent History and Library Centre (KHLC), Maidstone, DRb/Pw34.
KHLC, DRb/Pw34, made February 1665.
For the names of just some of the workmen engaged on the new Greenwich Palace in August, September and October 1665, see TNA, WORK 5/8 fos. 275-282v, 283-9 and 291-296v.
THE UPDOWN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY: A REVISION OF THE SITE’S CHRONOLOGY USING
CORRESPONDENCE ANALYSIS
tim van tongeren
With the publication of a holistic typology and chronology for Anglo-Saxon artefacts in 2013 it is now possible to review and, if necessary, revise the chronology of previously-dated cemeteries. In this paper, the burial chronology of Updown cemetery in Eastry, created by Martin Welch in 2008, is reviewed using the newly available typological scheme as well as the statistical method of Correspondence Analysis. Grave furnishings from the cemetery are re-analysed and dated and grave assemblages are compared with those from other Anglo-Saxon cemeteries in Kent and beyond. The aim of the study is to refine the seventh-century dating and the division of the cemetery into three broad phases as postulated by Welch. It has proved possible to refine the initial site chronology into four better-defined phases, of which two can be placed in the second half of the sixth century. This revised chronology raises questions regarding the relationship between Updown cemetery and the wider settlement and burial landscape of Eastry and east Kent.
This study of the chronology of Updown cemetery has been undertaken as part of a larger project that compares the chronology and material culture of early medieval cemeteries in Kent with those in The Netherlands. Over many years, British arch- aeology has benefited from studies into the typology and seriation of Anglo-Saxon grave goods.1 Whilst providing valuable insight, these have also highlighted issues regarding the establishment of a suitable chronological framework in which multiple artefact-types combine. A large project, executed by Professors John Hines, Alex Bayliss and their team, compared chronological data from 224 Anglo-Saxon cemet- eries across England. The densest cluster, consisting of thirty-eight cemeteries, is located in Kent.2 Their research, published in 2013, presents a sound framework for the assignment of chronological phases to a wide range of artefact types from grave assemblages. These phases, in turn, are related to calendrical dates.3 This holistic artefact typology and chronology can now be applied to other cemeteries in Kent (such as Updown) which were not part of the original thirty-eight studied.
This paper presents the results of an analysis of the Updown data within the larger English framework as created by Hines and colleagues. The analysis provides a new insight into the site’s chronology and a revision of the phasing as previously suggested by Welch in Updown’s initial 2008 publication.4
image
TIM VAN TONGEREN
Fig. 1 The location of Updown cemetery in east Kent. (Crown copyright 2019, using Ordnance Survey/EDINA outline map data.)
Evidence for Anglo-Saxon Eastry
To appreciate Updown cemetery’s place in the wider history of east Kent, the site should be considered as part of the much larger Anglo-Saxon complex in and around Eastry (Figs 1 and 2). Research by Drs Dickinson, Fern and Richardson, published in 2011, provides a comprehensive overview of the early antiquarian discoveries as well as various excavations in the environs of the village. Most important for understanding Eastry’s significance and extent in the Anglo-Saxon period, however, are the burials at Cross Farm (Eastry 1),5 Thornton (Eastry 2)6 and Updown (Eastry 3). In addition, information gained from chance finds suggests two more cemeteries in the immediate surroundings of Eastry, at Ham7 and Highborough Hill (Fig. 2).8
Also significant is the so-called Cobb collection in Maidstone Museum, of Anglo- Saxon finds material from Eastry. Its exact provenance, however, is not firmly established.9 In a letter, Cobb referred to the origin of the material as ‘Updown near Eastry’, whilst ‘Eastry House near Dover’ is named in other letters.10 At the time, a large amount of material entered the museum’s collection from excavations in Sarre, Dover and other places, which seems to have overwhelmed the curator.11 Analysis of the material by Sonia Chadwick Hawkes in the 1970s, as well as the re- discovery of three drawings of artefacts in the Cobb collection, suggest, however, that the material is most likely to have come from Updown as initially stated.12
THE UPDOWN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY: A REVISION OF THE CHRONOLOGY
image
Fig. 2 Anglo Saxon burial sites in and around Eastry (data from Dickinson et al. 2011, 4).
Excavations at Updown cemetery
The Updown cemetery is located in a field named Sangrado’s Wood, formerly tree- covered, and situated less than a kilometre south of the village of Eastry (Fig. 3). The site was first identified in 1973 when aerial photography showed cropmarks suggesting the presence of several inhumations within ring-ditches. On seeing these images, Hawkes recognised the importance of studying this undisturbed cemetery and the value of a possible comparison between it and her work at nearby Finglesham. In 1975, the area showing the cropmarks was declared an Ancient Monument and thus no longer accessible for excavation. The scheduled area, however, did not include the eastern part of the field, where no crop marks could be seen due to an overlaying crop of barley.13 In 1976, the local water company announced that a pipeline was to be built across Sangrado’s Wood and Hawkes undertook a rescue excavation (Fig. 4). The waterpipe was planned to run through the southern part of the scheduled monument area and further to the east of the field. In collaboration with the landowner and the water company, however, Hawkes managed to excavate a limited extra area directly north of the proposed pipeline alignment. During the excavation, one grave (76:37) in the path of the pipeline was unfortunately missed and therefore largely destroyed by the workforce. Some
TIM VAN TONGEREN
image
Fig. 3 Updown cemetery’s location near to the village of Eastry. (Crown copyright 2019, using Ordnance Survey/EDINA base map data.)
graves in the extra area of excavation, 76:38, 39, 40, 41 and 42, could not be studied in detail due to time restrictions. The outcomes of the 1976 excavation, comprising a total of forty-two recorded graves, were not published until 2008.14
By the end of the 1980s, a long-standing proposal to build a bypass for the A256 road from Sandwich to Dover was at the point of becoming reality. The Kent Archaeological Rescue Unit (KARU) carried out the excavation. In the early autumn of 1989 an area of c.1,500 sq. metres of Sangrado’s Wood was excavated (Fig. 4). During this excavation, a total of forty-one new graves was recorded out of fifty-four uncovered. Only three of these graves were located within the scheduled monument area. Thirteen of the fifty-one graves excavated outside the scheduled area had already been dug in 1976. The new excavation brought the total number of graves excavated at Sangrado’s Wood to seventy-eight, including destroyed grave 76:37. The 1989 excavations seem to have established the northern and southern edges of this part of the cemetery. Both limits lay some 50m apart. With the location of grave 76:37, an indication for the eastern limit to the burial ground was already established in 1976 (Fig. 5).15
The results of the 1989 excavations were published by KARU, separately from
THE UPDOWN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY: A REVISION OF THE CHRONOLOGY
image
Fig. 4 Location of Updown cemetery in relation to the planned pipeline in 1976 and the planned Eastry by-pass route in 1989 (data from Welch 2008, 5).
those of the 1976 excavation, the system of grave numbering never being harmon- ised. Instead of opting for a numbering running from 1 to 78, the authors chose to number the graves 1 to 42 with the year prefix year code 76 and graves 1 to 54 with the prefix code 89. The publication by KARU outlines the 1989 newly found grave furnishings but does not address the chronology of the cemetery.16 (A concise grave catalogue containing the general data recorded for all excavated inhumations at Updown cemetery is available on the KAS website.)
The existing chronological framework for Updown
A brief overview of the chronological situation in the wider regional context of east Kent is required. After a period of apparently only marginal settlement in Eastry and its environs during the fourth century, evidence from the fifth century shows a remarkable change in burial practice and material culture. Styles are introduced which originate from the coastal zones of Jutland and northern Germany. Also,
image
TIM VAN TONGEREN
98
Fig. 5 Combined plan of the 1976 and 1989 excavations at Updown cemetery (data from Welch 2008, 7).
THE UPDOWN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY: A REVISION OF THE CHRONOLOGY
image
Fig. 6 Early Anglo-Saxon cemeteries in east Kent (data from Dickinson et al. 2011, 2. (Crown copyright 2019, using Ordnance Survey/EDINA outline map data.)
parallels can be found with early Merovingian practices and material culture.17 These Frankish influences are traditionally suggested to originate from contact with northern France and possibly Belgium.18 It is equally possible that contact with northern Merovingian groups in what is now The Netherlands and Flanders, may have played a role.
Cemeteries dating to the middle of the fifth century in the area east of the Medway, are mostly found close to the Wantsum Channel. This includes the lands around Deal, Sarre and Canterbury. Smaller clusters of cemeteries can be found near Dover and Lyminge whilst there is meagre evidence from the region west of Canterbury (Fig. 6).19 Eastry district in the fifth or early sixth century lies astride the Roman road connecting the south of the Wantsum Channel with Dover. The core of the district seems to be focussed between Eastry and Woodnesborough where several trackways leading from the North Downs and the Weald join the Roman road (Fig. 2). The cemeteries at Eastry 1 and Ringlemere can be regarded as evidence of late fifth-century settlement.20
From the early sixth century, furnished burial becomes widely observed in Kent. The large number of cemeteries in the area around Eastry are established during this period, with examples in Guilton, Cop Street, Highborough Hill, Ham
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and Finglesham (Fig. 2). Various graves in these cemeteries revealed luxury and prestige objects which can be regarded as Scandinavian and/or Merovingian imports as well as prestigious objects made locally. These burials suggest the presence of a settlement at Eastry which was home to people of high status and with some considerable influence in the region. Indeed, the theory of Eastry as the villa regalis or royal centre for the eastern region of the Kentish kingdom is postulated by various researchers.21
By ad 600 all main routes leading to Eastry are flanked by cemeteries, of which many contain high status burials. Not all of the cemeteries are used at the same time or remain in use by 600, but they would have been clearly visible when approaching Eastry.22 Also close to the road at Updown, Dickinson and colleagues postulate the presence of a number of late sixth- or early seventh- century elite burials (Fig. 2).23 These graves are considered precursors of Updown cemetery itself (see below).
The earlier chronology based on analysis of spatial features
In order to establish a chronology for Updown Welch analysed stratigraphy and the positioning of graves in relation to each other. From the excavation data, it is clear that graves 76:32 and 76:33 are the only two intercutting (Fig. 5). Both these graves are located within one single ring-ditch. There are also two intercutting ring- ditches in the cemetery, enclosing graves 76:15 and 76:16. The few intercutting features in Updown cemetery largely limits the use of stratigraphy as an indicator for the chronology of the burials. A possible indicator that deserves a closer look, however, is the relationship between graves 76:32 and 76:33, located within the same ring-ditch. The archaeological data shows that it is grave 76:33 that cuts grave 76:32 (Fig. 5). The latter is that of a possible adult female buried without any grave goods. The former is the grave of an adult male who is buried with a simple iron buckle and a knife. When viewing the alignment of both graves in relation to the ring-ditch, it becomes clear that male grave 76:33 shows an alignment with the causeway of the ring-ditch whilst grave 76:32 does not. This suggests that grave 76:32 should be assigned to an earlier phase than grave 76:33. The former might have been forgotten about, subsequently cut by the latter and provided with a ring- ditch and corresponding earthworks.24
Welch examined closely the orientation of the graves. From the cemetery plan it becomes clear that graves 76:13, 26, 27, 34 and 89:24, 40, 43, 51 all share an orientation of around 100 degrees. This orientation is similar to the orientation of grave 76:32, the supposedly older one of the two intercutting graves. A second group of burials, all with an orientation of between 65 and 72 degrees has the same orientation as grave 76:33, the supposedly younger one of the two intercutting burials. This group consists of graves 76:19, 20, 23, 24, 25, 31, 35, 36, 37 and
89:1, 16, 20, 23, 31, 32, 33, 35, 41, 42, 44 and 47 (Fig. 5). He suggests that this group can be assigned to a different and chronologically later burial episode than the graves from the first group.25
Unfortunately, intercutting ring-ditches 76:15 and 76:16 provide very little insight into the cemetery’s chronological build-up. The section of intercutting between the two ring-ditches does not decisively indicate a sequence. Based on
THE UPDOWN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY: A REVISION OF THE CHRONOLOGY
probability it seemed more plausible to Welch for the ditch surrounding grave 76:15 to be the older. This would mean that the oldest of the two graves is that of a child, probably a girl, who was wearing typical female dress fittings from the final phase.26 The dress fittings are relatively rich and seem equally appropriate for an adult female. The supposed younger grave, 76:16 is that of an unsexed adult, probably of male gender, who is buried with a silver-inlaid iron buckle, a second small buckle and a knife. Based on the finds and their dating, it can be argued that grave 76:16 is the first interred one and therefore the elder, in marked contrast to the apparent sequence of the ring-ditches.
Artefact typologies and chronologies for Kentish grave furnishings
In addition to stratigraphical information and clustering based on grave orientation, grave furnishings provide important indications for Updown’s chronology. As previously mentioned, the chronology and typology by Hines and colleagues was not available at the time of Updown’s publication. This left Kent largely without a suitable sequence for artefact classification and dating, based on chronological ranges covering one generation (c. thirty years). One option available, however, was the system of date ranges covering the sixth century developed by Dr Brugmann, specifically focussing on east Kent.27 These are, however, mainly based on Continental dress-fittings and bead combinations rather than on Kentish Anglo- Saxon material. Furthermore, Brugmann’s chronological phases are connected to absolute date ranges gained from coin-dated graves in the Frankish kingdoms on the Continent. This basis makes the typology and chronology less suitable for application to the Updown artefacts.
Another avenue explored by Welch was the dating of Updown’s artefacts with help of the chronological phases developed for the Buckland-Dover cemetery.28 For this burial ground, first excavated in the 1950s, Evison developed a chronological framework based on particular artefact types and grave assemblages, but more importantly on visible clusters in the cemetery plan. This method led to the development of a useful relative chronology of plots, moving eastwards across the cemetery terrain. Like Brugmann’s, Evison’s system largely depends on Continental dates. Although Evison’s theory provides a rough and only relative indication of the chronological build-up of Buckland over time, the evidence for the different absolute phases is not equally strong for the whole period the cemetery was in use. There was, for instance, no independent basis for checking the absolute date ranges assigned to the seventh- and eighth-century burials.29 This is largely caused by the rarity of closely datable Frankish imports or coins amongst grave assemblages in the cemetery. The artefact chronology constructed by Evison played an important role in dating Anglo-Saxon archaeology in Kent, for instance the finds from the Mill Hill cemetery near Deal,30 until the work of Hines and Bayliss in 2013.
Welch’s suggested chronology for Updown cemetery
When considering the meagre stratigraphical evidence from Updown and the lack of a comprehensive typology and chronology for artefacts, Welch clearly had a
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difficult task dating the graves. He postulates a global division into two groups. The first group includes graves assumed to date before ad 650 (i.e. c.ad 600-650) and a second, later group c.ad 650-700. For the Phase 1 group, the presence of artefacts which are considered to be typical for the first half of the seventh century was essential. These include the one jewelled disc brooch from grave 76:6 as well as the Kentish triangular buckles, sometimes decorated with animal ornaments in Style II. The imported Frankish silver-inlaid belt set from grave 76:29 and the silver-inlaid iron buckle with rectangular plate and associated belt fittings from grave 76:16 are also considered to belong in Phase 1. The tall cone-shaped shield boss from grave 76:14 is associated with one of the triangular buckles with Style II boar-head decoration and is therefore considered a relatively early type. Other graves to be assigned to the pre 650 Phase 1 include 76:5, 11, 12, 13, 24, 28, 31
and 89:12, 18.
Finds that are considered to be typical for Updown’s Phase 2 sometimes include artefacts that have previously been assigned to the ‘Final Phase’ as defined by Leeds.31 Examples of artefacts which form the basic types of Updown’s second phase are the copper-alloy cylindrical ‘boxes’ from graves 76:34 and 89:45, the palm cup from grave 89:35 and classic female dress fittings such as single silver pins and necklaces made of silver-wire slipknot rings. Also indicative for Phase 2 are combinations of the above-mentioned artefact types with amethyst beads and/or monochrome opaque glass beads. In addition, the many graves containing a small buckle with rectangular plate are also placed in Phase 2. Updown’s later phase further includes graves 76:2, 10, 15, 18, 20, 21, 22, 25, 26, 27,30, 35, 36 and
89:1, 5, 20, 23, 26, 32, 34, 36, 38, 39, 43 and 46.32
On the cemetery plan (Fig. 7), the graves that are considered to be part of Phase 1 are broadly spaced across the southern part of the excavated area. The graves sometimes occur isolated but also in pairs or small clusters of three. The substantially larger number of graves assigned to Phase 2 can be found distributed both to the south and north of the Phase 1 burials. Phase 2 burials, however, also occur in the zone dominated by graves from Phase 1, but their distribution extends further to the west and east. As the basis for correlating finds from Updown to a larger regional framework was uncertain at the time of publication, many graves in the cemetery were left unassigned. This is often the case for graves containing weapons, but not in a combination with a datable buckle. Welch concludes that a more general seventh-century date should be assigned to graves 76:1, 3, 4, 7, 8,
9, 17, 19, 23, 32, 33, 37 and 89:9, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 37, 40, 41, 42, 47, 48, 49,
50, 51 and 52.33 Within the three groups of Phase 1 and 2 and the general phase, Welch includes all graves in the cemetery except for the following nine contexts: 89:15, 16, 19, 22, 27, 29, 30, 33 and 44, for which presumably no dating could be assigned.
Comparison of the results of Welch’s dating based on artefact typology and those of the initially explored theory of stratigraphic succession (76:32 followed by 76:33) led to no significant outcomes. From the graves aligned similarly to grave 76:32, only grave 76:13 can be assigned to Phase 1, based on its assemblage. Only graves 76:26, 27 and 34 can be assigned to Phase 2. Furthermore, there are two graves with similar alignment, 76:32 and 89:9, which can be assigned a general seventh-century date. Of the thirty-one graves with a globally similar orientation
image
THE UPDOWN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY: A REVISION OF THE CHRONOLOGY
103
Fig. 7 Chronological phasing of the graves in Updown cemetery (data from Welch 2008, 48).
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to grave 76:33, seven can be dated to Phase 1 (76:6, 11, 14, 24, 28, 29 and 31).
Twelve of them can be assigned to the second phase (76:10, 15, 18, 20, 21, 25, 30,
35, 36 and 89:1, 35, 46). A further twelve graves share a more general seventh-
century date (76:1, 3, 4, 7, 17, 19, 23, 33, 37 and 89:32, 41, 42).34
Apart from the question as to whether the chronological phases assigned to the Updown graves by Welch are correct, they are clearly broad and only of limited use for comparison with other cemeteries in Kent and/or beyond. When the date ranges set by Welch are compared with other evidence from the Eastry district, the Updown cemetery appears to be one of the (if not, the) youngest. Elite burials are established widely around the district by 600, most likely including some graves close to the Updown road. Around the turn to the seventh century, it can be suggested that some cemeteries already ceased their active function and were no longer expanding. In this regard the Updown cemetery, which is relatively large compared to its neighbours, could be regarded as a ‘final phase’ cemetery. It is, however, questionable if a cemetery used solely in the seventh century, as postulated by Welch, would have grown to such an extent as Updown’s did. Based on the pattern of cemetery expansion in the district, it would be more likely to expect a start at Updown in the second half of the sixth century with further development into the seventh century. This would imply that the elite graves found near Updown, which are regarded as older than the cemetery itself, are in fact contemporary with its earliest phases.
Is Updown a ‘final phase’ cemetery?
When viewing the evidence from Updown there are arguments both in favour and against labelling it as a ‘final phase’ cemetery. The label ‘final phase’ was, as previously mentioned, defined by Leeds in 1936 and represents the youngest datable phase of Anglo-Saxon burial in Kent,35 considered typical for seventh- or early eighth-century cemeteries.36 They mark the first episode of Christian burial, distinctly different from the former burial episodes in regard of grave furnishings. At the same time, the final phase marks the last episode of furnished burial before a shift towards inhumation in churchyards takes place in the late seventh and eighth century.37 Although the basics of this general model are still relevant, in recent years archaeological consensus on the subject now recognises a more complex situation. Instead of linking a change in material evidence and burial practice solely to the arrival of Christianity, today it is accepted that additional factors – social, economic and political – would have influenced this development.38
For Updown, Welch assigned graves with so called final phase characteristics to his Phase 2, post ad 650. Boddingdon postulates that one of the main characteristics of a final phase cemetery is the relatively large number of unfurnished burials.39 In Updown, there are only twelve unfurnished graves found to date, representing
c.15 per cent of the total.40 Besides the unfurnished graves mentioned, the Updown cemetery can be regarded as relatively rich in material culture. Following Boddingdon’ view, this would be an argument against a final phase cemetery. It must be noted, however, that whilst relatively rich in material culture, Updown does not display the wealthiest graves in the Eastry district or the wider region of east Kent.41 The cemetery contains, however, various imported goods such as cowrie
THE UPDOWN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY: A REVISION OF THE CHRONOLOGY
shells from the Red Sea region, amethyst beads from the eastern Mediterranean, a Byzantine copper-alloy buckle and various items of Frankish origin (e.g. wheel thrown pottery, known in Germany as Knickwandgefäßen).42 The presence of these imported items is consistent with the many richly furnished graves in the wider Eastry district in the late sixth and early seventh century. It contrasts with the barely (or non-) furnished graves noted by Boddingdon to be typical for the final phase. This may be explained by Updown being a cemetery that was largely established during the sixth century and thence continued in use into the final phase. The orientation of graves in the Updown cemetery is predominantly east- west or west-east and inhumation is the leading form of burial practice. These characteristics are consistent with a final phase cemetery.43
Another characteristic of a typical final phase cemetery is that some graves are placed under barrows and/or within ring-ditches.44 In Updown this is the case for a maximum of twenty-one graves,45 representing c.27 per cent of the total excavated to date.
Boddingdon postulates the presence of grave goods with Christian symbolism as an additional indicator of a cemetery of the final phase, the first step towards fully embracing Christian burial practice, without grave furnishings, during the eight century.46 Christian symbolism, however, is largely absent in the Updown cemetery with only one clear cross symbol appearing on a coin pendant. The coin used for this pendant is a contemporary (ad 580-670) Merovingian tremisses and thus a Frankish import or copy thereof. Welch notes that the use of Merovingian coins in pendants in Anglo-Saxon Kent is typical for the seventh century citing the pendants from the Sibertswold cemetery grave 172.47
As previously mentioned, Welch’s post 650 phase is mainly defined by grave goods that can be seen as traditionally belonging to the final phase. These grave goods include copper-alloy cylindrical ‘boxes’, small buckles with rectangular plates, a palm cup and classic female dress fittings such as single silver pins, necklaces made of silver-wire slipknot rings and combinations of the above- mentioned types with amethyst beads and/or monochrome opaque glass beads. In the case of silver-wire slipknot rings with beads (pendant style), however, Hines dates these to 555/85-660/85. Beads made of amethyst are assigned a similar date. Silver-wire slipknot rings without beads are dated 580/640-660/85.48 In the German Rhineland and Eifel regions, amethyst beads occur between 565 and 670/80 with a peak in use between 580/90 and 610/20.49 Silver-wire slipknot rings with beads from these parts of Germany are dated between 610/20-710/50.50 Considering the English as well as the Continental dates for these objects, it could be suggested that the contexts in which these were found belong to the final phase. However, the chronology of the objects equally allows for a pre-final phase date for the graves, namely in the second half of the sixth century or first half of the seventh century.
Single silver pins are not assigned a date in the chronology by Hines. Double silver pins, however, were assigned a date between 625/50 and 660/85 (585/615- 610/45).51 Also in this case the refined dating allows for these objects to belong in the period post 650 but equally in the period before that date. The copper-alloy boxes found at Updown, as well as glassware, are not considered in the chronology established by Hines and Bayliss.
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correspondence analysis as a method for chronological study
From the above review of the published dating of Updown it is clear that the theories advanced regarding its chronology are based on outdated and sometimes contradictory methodologies. Their conclusions may be valid but are very basic and therefore only of limited value for comparison with results from other Kentish cemeteries. During the excavations at Updown and subsequently, no scientific dating of organic material or human remains was undertaken. As Welch acknowledged,52 there is scope for refinement with the help of modern techniques. Correspondence Analysis (CA) is a statistics-based method that calculates degrees of diversity within a dataset which can help establish typological seriations within large volumes of archaeological data. In the case of Updown, an already established seriation of archaeological data can be used as a basis. CA, as applied to archaeology, is based on the principle of different artefact types being fashionable at or around the same time. Specific combinations of different artefact types can often be found together, as one grave assemblage, being current for a certain time period. The content of such an assemblage changes over time, artefacts no longer in use disappearing in younger graves and being replaced by others which in due course assume growing significance. This serial replacement has been accepted by
the archaeological community for many years.53
CA makes it possible to create, or refine, seriations in a relatively rapid and consistent manner. To establish a typological seriation of artefacts, the development of a certain item is viewed over time. For example, in its early phase a buckle is relatively simple, an oval loop with straight tongue and made of iron or bronze. Over the years, it develops and a shield- or club-shaped tongue comes into fashion. This development is followed by the arrival of a back-plate, initially square, later triangular and with a growing amount of decoration. All artefact types such as spearheads, shield bosses, beads and brooches, follow unique paths of design development. The simplest brooch, for instance, is contemporary with the simple oval buckle. A hundred years later, different brooch types are in fashion which are contemporary with, for instance, buckles with a triangular plate and silver-inlaid decoration. With the help of CA it becomes possible to determine the presence frequency of each individual object type within a cemetery content and to establish which combinations with other artefact types commonly occur in individual graves. Artefacts within one ‘grave assemblage’ can be considered more or less contemporary, following the above principle of serial replacement. However, exceptions occur; for example, very early artefacts can be recognised in later graves, possibly passed on as heirlooms.
When determining the presence frequency of artefacts or assemblages in multiple cemeteries, it becomes possible to establish a relative timeline for a larger area within which every artefact has its unique place. This timeline represents a sequence or seriation like the one made by Hines and his colleagues where exact date phases have been assigned to the relative timeline, aided by radiocarbon and dendro dating, and also any known dates of coin finds and specific objects imported from the Continent.54
With a seriation for England already established, all that is necessary for
Updown is to assign a typological classification to each individual artefact from
THE UPDOWN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY: A REVISION OF THE CHRONOLOGY
the cemetery and to form a database of existing grave assemblages. With the help of CA these assemblages are analysed and compared with other assemblages from different cemeteries in England. It will become clear where the assemblages from Updown are positioned on the relative timeline in comparison to assemblages from other cemeteries. The relative positions of Updown’s grave assemblages on the timeline makes it possible to connect them to the exact date phases assigned to the Hines and Bayliss seriation.
Preparing the existing Updown data for CA
All graves in the Updown cemetery and their contents have been re-examined by detailed study of the two excavation reports. All individual artefacts have been placed, where possible, in the Hines and Bayliss seriation. To qualify it is necessary for a grave to contain two or more artefacts that can be placed in the seriation. The more artefacts per grave that can be classified this way, the more certainty of the grave’s position on the relative timeline. Likewise every artefact must have at least two occurrences in the total dataset. This rule of thumb underlines a critical issue that should be noted. CA is based on the premise that there is always a seriation possible within a dataset. It is based on a subjective choice as to which artefacts can be regarded as chronologically significant, and therefore useful for the analysis.55 To employ CA effectively it is important to work with the concept of gender-specific grave goods. Thus, all types of weaponry are typical examples of indicators for a male gender; female gender is indicated by such items as beads, brooches, pins and pendants. Buckles are also used in the analysis but occur in graves of both males and females.56
After collecting the necessary information and categorising each individual artefact, the outcomes were integrated into an existing spreadsheet containing similar artefact data for each individual grave from the research done by Hines and his team. There are separate spreadsheets for graves with male- or female-specific grave goods.
The spreadsheets used for CA contain two categories – objects and values. The objects are the individual graves, placed in the rows; the values are the different artefact types, placed in the columns and in chronological order, corresponding with the Hines and Bayliss seriation.57
The output of the calculation is shown in a two-dimensional plot formed by a horizontal x-axis and a vertical y-axis. The horizontal axis reveals the greatest element of variation within the dataset. The more related to each other the assemblages are, the closer together they appear. The vertical y-axis represents the second-largest element of variation within the dataset, namely the serial replacement of artefact types within the grave assemblages.
The output plot of a perfect seriation will yield a parabolic curve on the two principal axes. When working with real datasets from archaeological excavations, however, a perfect outcome is hardly to be expected. The plot will, in most cases, only approximately approach the shape of a parabola.
As noted, the outcomes of CA itself do not provide exact dates for graves or artefacts. The parabola, therefore, cannot be read as an absolute timeline. The position of the objects and variables relative to the y-axis provide an insight into
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image
Fig. 8 Result of Correspondence Analysis on male gender graves from England. The symbols in black represent graves from Updown cemetery amongst graves from other Anglo-Saxon cemeteries in England (grey). The dataset for Correspondence Analysis was kindly provided by Professor J. Hines of Cardiff University.
serial replacement within the dataset and thus into development of the seriations (the content of a cemetery) over time. With this, the parabola shows only a relative timeline with the oldest graves on the right and the youngest on the left.
The Results of CA for Updown
The results of the CA procedure for Updown are presented in Fig. 8 (male gender) and Fig. 9 (female). Fig. 8 shows two main clusters of graves, one relatively early cluster to the right and one late cluster to the left. The male curve is much more regular than the female curve stemming from the use of many beads for the dating of female graves. Unlike male-specific grave assemblages, female-specific ones are often built-up of a large number of individual artefacts with each individual bead counted as one unique artefact. If a grave contains a bead necklace, the number of individual finds becomes very high and as some bead types are used multiple times in one necklace, some individual artefact types occur multiple times in the same grave. This can lead to a very precise indication of the grave’s relative position on the timeline, but only in case of the artefacts belonging to a well-defined phase. Unfortunately, as beads often get re-used and passed down from generation to generation, their phase of usage is often quite long and not always well defined.58 Another possible pitfall of using beads in CA is that many graves contain similar
THE UPDOWN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY: A REVISION OF THE CHRONOLOGY
image
Fig. 9 Result of Correspondence Analysis on female gender graves from England. The symbols in black represent graves from Updown cemetery amongst graves from other Anglo-Saxon cemeteries in England (grey). The dataset for Correspondence Analysis was kindly provided by Professor J. Hines of Cardiff University.
bead types but in many different combinations. From these different combinations, a large number of different grave assemblages can be calculated. But, because they all contain many similar beads, their serial replacement rate is relatively low. This leads to an output curve in which these graves (assemblages) are located very close to their nearest neighbour and therefore in clearly visible clusters.
In the case of Updown, however, it becomes clear from the graph that only four of the ten female graves used in the analysis can be seen belonging to one of the two clusters. This is possibly indicative of a cemetery with a long and continuous usage period with multiple burial episodes.
The curve for the Updown male graves does not show many noteworthy features – typically individual graves do not contain multiple similar weaponry. It is very regular and the graves fit in well with the build-up of other cemeteries in the England. Due to a low number of grave goods suitable for classification, only five male graves could be used for CA. Nevertheless, the relatively even spread along the second half of the relative timeline is apparent. This again may be an indication for a cemetery with a longer and continuous usage period. The graves in the left half of the curve indicate usage of the cemetery in the late sixth and seventh century.
Together with the results generated with CA, the placing of the artefacts from Updown into the chronological framework by Hines and Bayliss made it possible
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to generate an absolute date range for forty-three of the seventy-eight graves found. Where possible, the graves have been dated based on multiple key artefacts. Unfortunately, not every grave held multiple artefacts which could be dated, so some of the date ranges are based on only one type.
The assigned date ranges are presented in Table 1, together with the key artefacts on which the dates are based.59 Although some dates could be assigned with a
TABLE 1. NEW DATING OF INHUMATIONS FROM UPDOWN, AND KEY GUIDING ARTEFACT TYPES
Inhumations that do not appear in the table could not be assigned a date. (The artefact codes used correspond with Hines and Bayliss (eds) 2013, 561-71).
Grave
Dating
Key artefact(s)
76:1
525/50 – 610/45
Spear head (SP1-a3)
76:3
525/50 – 580/610
Spear head (SP1-a4)
76:4
525/50 – 550/70
Spear head (SP2-b1a3)
76:5
545/65 – 580/610
Buckle (BU3-b)
76:6
510/45 – 625/50
Brooch (BR2-b4)
76:10
580/640 – 660/85
Bead (WoundSp)
76:11
585/615 – 610/45
Spear head (SP2-a1b1) – Buckle (BU-3a)
76:12
550/70 – 610/45
Buckle (BU-3a)
76:13
550/70 – 610/45
Buckle (BU-3a) – Spear head (SP1-a2)
76:14
585/615 – 610/45
Buckle (BU-3a) – Spear head (SP1-a3) – Shield boss (SB5-a)
76:15
510/45 – 580
Bead (CylRound) – Bead (SegGlob) – Bead (ConSeg)
76:16
525/50 – 585/615
Buckle (BU4)
76:19
525/50 – 550/70
Spear head (SP1-a2) – Seax (SX1-c)
76:22
510/45 – 625/50
Bead (CylRound)
76:24
550/70 – 565/95
Buckle (BU3-g)
76:26
555/85 – 625/50
Bead (Amethyst) – Bead (CylRound)
76:28
550/70 – 610/45
Buckle (BU-3a)
76:29
525/50 – 550/70
Spear head (SP2-b1a3)
76:30
580/640 – 660/685
Bead (Dghnt)
76:31
550/70 – 610/45
Buckle (BU-3a)
76:35
565/95 – 585/615
Spear head (SP1-a2) – Buckle (BU4b)
89:1
510/45 – 625/50
Bead (CylRound)
89:5
550/70 – 660/80
Buckle (BU7)
89:12
525/550 – 550/70
Buckle (BU4a)
89:18
510/45 – 555/85
Bead (Koch58) – Bead (Koch20Wh or Koch20Ye)
89:20
580/640 – 660/685
Bead (Dghnt)
89:23
555/85 – 625/50
Bead (CylRound) – Pendant (PE2c)
89:24
550/70 – 660/80
Buckle (BU7)
THE UPDOWN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY: A REVISION OF THE CHRONOLOGY
Grave
Dating
Key artefact(s)
89:25
525/50 – 610/45
Spear head (SP1-a2)
89:26
580/640 – 660/80
Bead (WoundSp) – Buckle (BU7)
89:32
580/640 – 660/85
Bead (WoundSp)
89:34
580/640 – 660/85
Bead (WoundSp) – Bead (Amethyst)
89:36
580/640 – 660/85
Bead (WoundSp)
89:37
525/50 – 550/70
Seax (SX1-c)
89:39
580/640 – 625/50
Bead (SegGlob) – Bead (WoundSp)
89:40
525/50 – 610/645
Spear head (SP1-a2)
89:41
610/45 – 660/80
Spear head (SP1-a5)
89:42
585/615 – 660/80
Seax (SX3-a)
89:43
580/640 – 625/50
Bead (WoundSp) – Bead (CylRound) – Bead (WhSpiral)
89:45
580 – 615
Bead (Disc) – Bead (WoundSp) – Bead (CylRound) – Buckle (BU3)
89:46
510/45 – 580/640
Bead (CylRound) – Bead (Koch20Ye OR Koch20Wh)
89:51
525/50 – 585/615
Spear head (SP1-a4)
89:52
525/50 – 565/95
Spear head (SP2-a1a2)
degree of certainty, those based on one single artefact need to be viewed with caution. Unfortunately, the occurrence of most artefacts is not restricted to one of the limited time brackets as designated by Hines; therefore the brackets provided are in most cases rather large. When multiple artefacts are present, the date range can sometimes be reduced but in most cases the range comprises two or three brackets of about a generation’s length.
The graves that are not represented in the table did not hold sufficient information to make it possible to generate a date range. The dates assigned to the graves are based on the phasing in Hines and Bayliss 2013 and are presented in Table 2.
TABLE 2. CHRONOLOGICAL PHASING FOR ANGLO-SAXON INHUMATIONS
(Hines and Bayliss (eds) 2013, 485.)
Phase
Hines (male)
Date
Phase
Hines (female)
Date
AS-MA
Pre 525/50
AS-FA
Pre 510/45
AS-MB
525/50 – 545/65
AS-FB
510/45 – 555/85
AS-MC
545/65 – 565/95
AS-FC
555/85 – 580/640
AS-MD
565/95 – 580/610
AS-FD
580/640 – 625/50
AS-ME
580/610 – 610/45
AS-FE
625/50 – 660/85
AS-MF
610/45 – 660/85
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the revised updown chronology
After CA and the placing of the artefacts found at Updown cemetery into the chronological framework for Anglo-Saxon cemeteries, a new light can be shone on the cemetery’s chronology. When viewing the newly generated dates for the Updown graves (Table 1), it becomes clear that the simplified phases assigned by Welch, all set within the seventh century, provide an incomplete picture. The oldest phase of the cemetery, as now discovered here, is likely to include graves from the sixth century. Although the first phase, set by Welch as pre- ad 650, can literally include sixth-century graves, the wording does not explicitly suggest that the presence of pre seventh-century graves was considered. With the use of the revised CA dates, it is now possible to establish four phases A-D of which the first one is in the second half of the sixth century (Table 3).
TABLE 3. REVISED PHASING FOR UPDOWN CEMETERY, INCLUDING ABSOLUTE DATES, AND GRAVES BELONGING TO EACH PHASE
Phase
Dates
Graves
A
550-600
76:4, 15, 19, 24, 29
89:5, 12, 18, 37, 52
B
570-615
76:3, 5, 11, 16, 35
89:45, 51
C
600-650
76:1, 6, 12, 13, 14, 22, 26, 28, 31
89:1, 23, 25, 39, 40, 43, 46
D
625-685
76:10, 30
89:20, 24, 26, 32, 34, 36, 41, 42
Phase A: this early phase of usage and the graves it contains can be dated between
c.550 and c.600. The positioning of the graves belonging to this phase shows an even spread over the cemetery as excavated to date, without any noticeable clusters (Fig. 10). Three of the nine graves, 76:4, 15 and 89:37, are located within a ring-ditch.
As described earlier, the ring-ditches of graves 76:15 and 76:16 cut each other. Welch subsequently suggested that grave 76:15 is probably the elder of the two, based on the intercutting section and the presence of a chatelaine in the grave. Also, grave 76:16 contained a silver inlay buckle of type BU4 which suggested this grave to be the youngest of the two. The intercutting, however, was not decisive. When considering the beads which were found in grave 76:15, these suggest that this grave predates 76:16, in accordance with Welch. On the basis of the fourteen beads in grave 76:15, the grave is placed in Phase A. In this case, the chronological information that is available from said beads is more reliable and more precise than for the chatelaine. This is partly caused by the incomplete state in which the chatelaine was found, making it difficult to precisely classify and date the artefact.60 Chatelaines occur in various forms over a long period of time, starting in the sixth century.61 This is exemplified by the one found in Dover Buckland grave 28 which dates to 525-575.62 Chatelaines were, however, most frequently used during the end of the seventh and beginning of the eighth century.63 The dating of
image
THE UPDOWN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY: A REVISION OF THE CHRONOLOGY
113
Fig. 10 Cemetery plan of Updown cemetery with revised chronological phasing. (Base map data from Welch 2008, 7.)
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the beads in combination with the fact that it is possible for the chatelaine to have occurred as early as 550/600 makes it highly likely that grave 76:15 belongs in Phase A. It is not abnormal for beads to be re-used over multiple generations and passed on from one female to another. If this applies to the finds in grave 76:15, the Phase A date is possibly too early.
The dating of grave 76:15 in Phase A, as described above, is derived from visual inspection of the artefactual evidence. The outcome of the CA, however, shows a rather different picture. It should be noted that the chatelaine is not considered in the CA as not enough chronological and typological data is available for this artefact type. Of the female graves used in the CA, 89:18 is the oldest and is thus in Phase A. Following the relative chronological order of the CA outcome curve, it can be seen that grave 76:15 is older than 76:26 but younger than 89:23. Based on its position on the relative timeline alone, 76:15 should be placed in Phase C rather than A, which would make it younger than 76:16. This again highlights the difficulty that beads can bring to the process of dating, especially through their grouping and treasuring over multiple generations. Although grave 76:15 is placed in Phase A as a best guess here, the evidence remains indecisive as to its exact position in the chronology. From the male graves, 76:19 is the eldest in the CA, and hence its place in Phase A.
Guiding artefacts for the dating of the male graves of Phase A are spear heads SP1a2, SP2a1a2, SP2b1a364 and seax type SX1c.65 Buckles are, as previously explained, chronological indicators for both male and female graves. In the case of the Phase A graves, buckle types BU3g and BU4a are leading.66 Indicative bead combinations in female graves of Phase A consist of the types CylRound, SegGlob and ConSeg. Also two beads were found which have a continental Frankish origin. These types are Koch5867 and Koch20WH.68 From the excavation notes, the exact colour of the Koch20WH bead is not clear; it is possible that the example found was yellow rather than white in which case it should be Koch20YE.
Phase B: a second phase that can be distinguished comprises seven graves which can be dated between c.570 and c.615. Graves belonging to this phase are 76:3, 5, 11, 16, 35 and 89:45, 51. Whilst the graves of Phase A can all be dated within the sixth century based on artefactual evidence, it can be considered unlikely that any of them should be placed before 550. Within Phase B, all graves can be placed in the late sixth or very early seventh century. As no clear division can be made for these graves between the two centuries, Phase B is created as a separate category with a slightly later start date than Phase A. The above mentioned grave 76:16, which shows an intercutting ring-ditch with grave 76:15, can be suggested to belong to Phase B based on the presence of a buckle of type BU4. This makes it plausible that both inhumations took place within a relatively short time period, possibly of one or two generation(s), regardless of whether 76:15 belongs to Phases A, B or C. Within Phase B graves 76:16 and 76:11 have a ring-ditch enclosure. The guiding artefacts for dating the male graves in this phase are spear heads SP1a4, SP2a1b1and SP1a2.69 In both male and female graves, buckle types BU3a, BU3b, BU4 and BU4b are indicative.70 A CylRound bead in combination with a buckle of type BU3 in grave 89:45 indicates a date before 615. The examples of a WoundSP and Disc bead in the same grave can be regarded relatively early but do support the latest date of 615.71
THE UPDOWN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY: A REVISION OF THE CHRONOLOGY
Grave 76:11 is placed in Phase B, based on the presence of a combination of spear head (SP2-a1b1) and buckle (BU-3a). It is however possible that this grave should be assigned a slightly later date, in Phase C, as is suggested by the CA. Within the CA output curve, 76:11 is regarded younger than 76:13 and 14, two graves which both feature in Phase C, based on the combined presence of a buckle (BU-3a) and spear head (SP1-a2) and a buckle (BU-3a), spear head (SP1-a3) and shield boss (SB5-a) respectively. Female gender grave 89:45 is placed in Phase B based on the combined presence of bead (Disc), bead (WoundSp), bead (CylRound) and a buckle (BU3). The CA, however, calculates a placing for this grave in the final Phase D. It is possible that the content of this grave resembles a very early Phase D, which would mean a date of circa 15-20 years after the end of Phase B. Four of the seven graves in Phase B are to be found to the centre west of the excavated area. Together with graves 76:15, 29 and 89:18 from Phase A, graves 76:16 and 11 form a cluster in the centre of the excavated area. Two Phase B graves can be found to the north of this cluster and one is located on the eastern edge of the excavation (Fig. 10).
Phase C: can be placed entirely within the first half of the seventh century. It
comprises graves 76:1, 6, 12, 13, 14, 22, 26, 28, 31 and 89:1, 23, 25, 39, 40, 43, 46.
The dating of the male gender graves in this phase is mainly based on spear head types SP1a3 and SP1a272 as well as buckle type BU3a.73 For the female gender graves, this same buckle type is also considered, together with brooch type BR2b4,74 pendant type PE2c75 and beads of the type CylRound.76 In one of the graves, 76:26, the presence of an amethyst bead is a marker for a seventh-century context.77
Within Phase C, the CA outcome refines the dating of the male gender graves by showing that 76:13 is older than 76:14. In the case of the female gender graves, the order of inhumations from old to young should be regarded 89:46, 89:23, 76:26, 89:43 and 89:39.
A cluster of seven Phase C graves is to be found in the centre and north of the excavated area. A second cluster, also of seven graves, can be found to the west. The two remaining graves are located to the east of the excavation (Fig. 10).
Phase D: the final newly identified Phase D contains graves 76:10, 30 and 89:5, 20, 24, 26, 32, 34, 36, 41, 42. The graves in this phase can be dated to the period between c.625 and c.685 based on their inventory. Guiding artefacts for a Phase D date are spear head SP1a5,78 seax type SX3a79 and buckle type BU7.80 For the female graves, this buckle type also plays a role. Further dating evidence for the female graves is gained from the beads present. Types WoundSP and Dghnt are an indicative combination.81 In grave 89:34, these types are found in combination with an amethyst bead which is, as stated earlier, an indicator for a seventh-century context.82
Amongst the male gender graves suitable for CA, unfortunately none can be placed in Phase D. For the female gender graves, the CA outcome shows that grave 89:26 is likely to be older than 89:34. A large cluster of eight Phase D graves can be found in the northern part of the excavation, a second group of three graves is located in the west.
The spatial distribution of the dated graves over the excavated area seems
rather random (Fig. 10). The graves of phases A and B, in particular, do not show
TIM VAN TONGEREN
a clear clustering. This makes it impossible, at this stage, to recognise, say, a chronological movement from one side of the cemetery to another. This contrasts with, for instance, the chronological build-up of Buckland cemetery as postulated by Evison.83 Most of the seventh-century graves, however, can be found to the north and west of the excavated area. It is possibly necessary to excavate more of the eastern area of the cemetery to identify more clearly a spatial pattern. Four graves of Phase A are located within a ring-ditch enclosure. For Phases B, C and D there are 3, 4 and 1 respectively. Phase A grave 76:4, to the west of the cemetery, is one of the four located within an enclosure. This is the only enclosed burial, at this moment, which can be possibly related to graves from phases B and C just outside its ring-ditch. It is possible to suggest that this micro cluster should be seen as a family group built up over several generations.
conclusion
This research shows that it is possible to refine the chronology of the Updown cemetery with the help of Correspondence Analysis in the light of the artefact typology and chronology published by Hines in 2013. The initial two fifty-year phases postulated by Welch, as well as his larger general seventh-century phase can now be divided into four new phases of which one falls completely in the sixth century. The second phase spans the transition from the sixth to the seventh century and phases C and D belong entirely to the rest of the seventh century.
CA cannot assign a date to all graves in the Updown cemetery. The strict qualifying conditions that apply to individual graves mean that the method is only effective for a limited number of graves in the dataset. The dates for most graves are based on one or more artefacts which feature in Hines’ seriation. This seriation and chronology, however, have been largely brought about by the application of CA on many cemeteries across England. This means that, indirectly, the graves that do not feature in the CA for Updown are still dated with the help of this statistical method. The CA on the Updown data has proven useful for the creation of a relative chronological order of graves within the newly created phases. There are, however, exceptions. In some cases, the direct date gained from the seriation shows a difference to the CA outcome. This phenomenon is caused, in this case, by the unavoidable overlap between the newly created phases, the high reliance on beads for dating of female gender graves and the fact that many artefacts in the seriation cannot be assigned to a single time bracket of approximately thirty years alone. When using CA for relative dating or refining of chronological data, archaeologists should always bear in mind that there are various factors which can cause a distorted picture. Besides, CA outcomes tend to be influenced, at least to some extent, by the subjective choices made during data gathering and prediction of the chronological order of the artefacts used.
When placing the outcomes of this research in a wider context, it is most important to note that it is now possible to postulate a start for Updown cemetery in the second half of the sixth century, rather than a start in the seventh. For a long time Updown cemetery was regarded a very late example, starting only when the other cemeteries in the Eastry district were already well established (e.g. Finglesham), or already out of active use. If this was the case, it would imply that the cemetery only started during,
THE UPDOWN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY: A REVISION OF THE CHRONOLOGY
or even after, the peak in elite settlement in the area as postulated by Dickinson and colleagues. This belatedness seems inconsistent, however, with the size of Updown cemetery (and only partially excavated to date). Updown is relatively rich in material culture and shows various imported items from the Frankish areas on the Continent, but also the Byzantine Empire and the Red Sea region. There are parallels between Updown and the large Finglesham cemetery in terms of grave structure and furnishings. This suggests that Updown was an integral part of the postulated elite settlement in the district. The presence of relatively rich graves and imports further suggests that Updown was not solely a ‘final phase’ cemetery. An earlier start to the cemetery, in the second half of the sixth century is now supported and is more coherent with the presence of a low number of unfurnished burials and the scarcity of objects referring to Christian symbolism. The period of usage of the cemetery, however, does stretch into the second half of the seventh century and therefore into the period that is traditionally named the ‘final phase’.
The start of the cemetery in the second half of the sixth century would mean that Updown is part of the development of cemeteries along all roads leading into the Eastry district, as described by Dickinson. The few elite graves along the road leading to Updown can probably be regarded contemporary with, or slightly earlier than, the first phase of the larger Updown cemetery.
Various aspects of the material evidence from Updown cemetery, for instance the relatively large number of chatelaines and the presence of amethyst beads, single silver pins and silver-wire slipknot rings, postulate a usage peak in the seventh century. It can be argued, however, that this should not necessarily mean a peak in the second half of the seventh century, as postulated by Welch. As demonstrated by the new Updown phasing, the cemetery shows a decline in use between ad 670 and 685 which places the usage peak in Phase C, between c.600 and c.650. This is, of course, based on the archaeological information gained to date. Further excavations of the cemetery may shine a different light on various factors such as the level of unfurnished burials, the number of imported grave goods, the number of graves belonging to the different new phases and the chronological structure of the cemetery in a spatial sense. Through more data gained from excavation it might be possible to further refine the chronological phases as presented in this paper and remove some of the overlap between them.
bibliography
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Boddingdon, A., 1990, ‘Models of Burial, Settlement and Worship: The Final Phase Reviewed’, in Southworth, E. (ed.), Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries: A Reappraisal, Phoenix Mill: Alan Sutton.
Brugmann, B., 1999, ‘The role of Continental artefact-types in 6th-century Kentish chronology’, in Hines, J., Hoilund Nielsen, K. and Siegmund, F. (eds), The Pace of Change: Studies in Early Medieval Chronology, Oxford: Oxbow Books.
Brugmann, B., 2004, Glass beads from early Anglo-Saxon graves, Oxford: Oxbow Books.
Chadwick Hawkes, S., 1976, Orientation at Finglesham: Sunrise dating of death and burial
in an Anglo-Saxon cemetery in East Kent, Archaeologia Cantiana, 92, 33-51. Clausen, S-E., 1998, Applied Correspondence Analysis: An Introduction, London: Sage.
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Dickinson, T., Fern, C. and Richardson, A., 2011, ‘Early Anglo-Saxon Eastry: Archaeological evidence for the beginnings of a district centre in the kingdom of Kent’, in Hamerow, H. (ed.), Anglo-Saxon Studies in archaeology and history 17, Oxford University School of Archaeology.
Evison, V., 1987, Dover: The Buckland Anglo-Saxon Cemetery, London: Historic Buildings and Monuments Commission for England.
Faussett, B., 1856, Inventorium Sepulchrale, London: C. Roach Smith (ed.).
Geake, H., 1992, Burial Practice in Seventh- and Eighth-Century England, in Carver, M., The Age of Sutton Hoo: The Seventh Century in North-Western Europe, Woodbridge: Boydell Press.
Geake, H., 1997, The use of grave goods in conversion-period England, c.600-c.850,
Oxford: BAR Publishing (British series 261).
Greenacre, M., 1984, Theory and Applications of Correspondence Analysis, London: Academic Press.
Greenacre, M., 1994, ‘Correspondence Analysis and its Interpretation’, in Greenacre, M.
and J. Blasius (eds), Analysis in the Social Sciences, 3-22. London: Academic Press. Halsall, G., 2007, Barbarian Migrations and the Roman West 376-568, CUP.
Härke, H., 1989, ‘Knives in Early Anglo-Saxon burials: blade length and age at death’,
Medieval Archaeology, 33, 144-148.
Hines, J. and A. Bayliss (eds), 2013, Anglo-Saxon graves and grave goods of the 6th and 7th centuries AD. A chronological framework, London: The Society for Medieval Archaeology (Monograph 33).
Koch, U., 1977, Das Reihengräberfeld bei Schretzheim (Vol I and II), Germanische Denkmäler der Völkerwanderungszeit, Ser. A, 13. Berlin: Gebr. Mann Verlag.
Koch, U., 2001, Das alamanisch-fränkische Gräberfeld bei Pleidelsheim, Stuttgart: Konrad Theiss Verlag.
Leeds, E., 1936, Early Anglo-Saxon art and archaeology, Oxford: Clarendon Press. Legoux, R., P. Périn and Vallet, F., 2016. Chronologie Normalisée du Mobilier Funéraire
Mérovingien entre Manche et Lorraine, Saint Germain en Laye: Association Française
d’Archéologie Mérovingienne – Musée d’Archéologie Nationale.
Madsen, T. (via www.archaeoinfo.dk. CAPCA), ‘Plug in application for Microsoft Excel, for the execution of Correspondence Analysis’.
Marzinzik, S., 2003, Early Anglo-Saxon Belt Buckles (Late 5th to Early 8th centuries AD):
Their Classification and Context, Oxford: BAR, British Series 357.
Meaney, A. and S. Hawkes, 1970. Two Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries at Winnall, Winchester, Hampshire, London: Society for Medieval Archaeology (Monograph 4).
Müssemeier, U., Nieveler, E., Plum, R. and Pöppelmann, H., 2003. Chronologie der merowingerzeitlichen Grabfunde vom linken Niederrhein bis zur nördlichen Eifel, Köln: Rheinland-Verlag.
Parfitt, K. and B. Brugmann, 1997, The Anglo-Saxon cemetery on Mill Hill, Deal, Kent,
London: The Society for Medieval Archaeology (Monograph 14).
Parfitt, K. and S. Sweetinburgh, 2009, ‘Further investigation of Anglo-Saxon and Medieval
Eastry’, Archaeologia Cantiana, 129, 313-331.
Petrie, W., 1899, ‘Sequences in Prehistoric Remains’, Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland, 29, 295-301.
Philp, B. and Keller, P., 2002, The Anglo-Saxon cemetery at Eastry, near Dover, Dover: Kent Archaeological Rescue Unit.
Scull, C., 2015, ‘Chronology, Burial and Conversion: The Case of England in the 7th Century’, in Ruhmann, C., Hirschel, B., Zarnke, D. and Brieske, V. (eds), Dying Gods – Religious beliefs in northern and eastern Europe in the time of Christianisation (Neue Studien zur Sachsenforschung – band 5), Stuttgart: Konrad Theiss Verlag.
THE UPDOWN ANGLO-SAXON CEMETERY: A REVISION OF THE CHRONOLOGY
Shennan, S., 1997, Quantifying Archaeology (2nd edn), Edinburgh University Press.
Siegmund, F., 1998, Merowingerzeit am Niederrhein: Die frühmittelalterlichen Funde aus dem Regierungsbezirk Düsseldorf und dem Kreis Heinsberg, Köln: Rheinland Verlag.
Stoodley, N., 1999, The spindle and the spear: a critical enquiry into the construction and meaning of gender in the Early Anglo-Saxon burial rite, Oxford: BAR, British Series 288. Welch, M., 2008, ‘Report on excavations of the Anglo-Saxon cemetery at Updown, Eastry,
Kent’, in Hamerow, H. and Crawford, S. (eds), Anglo-Saxon Studies in archaeology and history 15, Oxford University – School of Archaeology.
endnotes
Hines and Bayliss (eds) 2013. 13-20.
Ibid., 2-3.
Ibid., 4
Welch 2008, 45-9.
Dickinson et al. 2011, 14-30.
Ibid., 56-61.
Ibid., 65-7.
Ibid., 62-5.
Ibid., 9-14.
Ibid., 9.
Dickinson et al. 2011, 9.
Ibid., 10, 14.
Welch 2008, 2.
Ibid., 6.
Ibid., 6-8.
Welch 2008, 8.
Dickinson et al. 2011, 72
Halsall 2007, 311.
Dickinson et al. 2011, 72.
Ibid., 72.
Parfitt and Sweetinburgh 2009, 313.
Dickinson et al. 2011, 73.
Ibid., 73.
Welch 2008, 45-6.
Ibid., 46.
Welch 2008, 17, 46.
Parfitt and Brugmann 1997; Brugmann 1999.
Evison, 1987, 138-40.
Ibid., 136-42.
Parfitt and Brugmann 1997, 94-5.
Leeds 1936.
Welch 2008, 48.
Welch 2008, 48.
Ibid., 48.
Leeds 1936, 96-114.
Geake 1992, 84.
Meaney and Hawkes. 1970, 50-5.
Scull 2015, 75.
Boddingdon 1990, 181.
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40 Welch 2008, 45.
41 Ibid., 49.
42 Ibid., 49-50.
Boddingdon 1990, 181.
Ibid., 181.
Welch 2008, 46.
Boddingdon 1990, 181.
Faussett 1856, 130-2; Meaney and Hawkes 1970, 47-8; Geake 1997, 9.
Hines and Bayliss (eds) 2013. 566, 569.
Müssemeier et al., 2003, 38.
Ibid., 39.
Hines and Bayliss (eds) 2013, 570.
Welch 2008, 47-8.
Petrie 1899, 295-301.
Hines and Bayliss (eds) 2013, 328-36.
Shennan 1997, 218.
Härke 1989; Stoodley 1999.
With the use of a Microsoft Excel plug-in called CAPCA, developed by Emeritus Professor Torsten Madsen (Aarhus University, Denmark). The CAPCA plug-in is available via www. archaeoinfo.dk.
Brugmann 2004, 29.
An overview of the assigned type codes for the artefacts as well as a list of their phases of
occurrence in Anglo-Saxon cemeteries can be found on pages 561 to 571 of Hines and Bayliss 2013.
Welch 2008, 100.
Ibid., 36.
Evison 1987, 117-18.
Welch 2008, 36.
Hines and Bayliss (eds), 2013. 565-66.
Ibid., 564.
Ibid., 562.
Ibid., 566-67; Koch 1977, colour plate 5
Hines and Bayliss (eds) 2013, 566-67; Koch, 1977, colour plate 2
Hines and Bayliss (eds) 2013, 565.
Ibid., 561-62.
Ibid., 566-67.
Hines and Bayliss (eds) 2013, 565.
Ibid., 561.
Ibid., 570.
Ibid., 568.
Ibid., 566.
Brugmann 2004, 58.
Hines and Bayliss (eds) 2013, 565.
Ibid., 564.
Ibid., 562.
Ibid., 566-67.
Brugmann 2004, 58.
Evison 1987, 136.
KNOLE HOUSE, JACK CADE AND THE ‘BATTLE OF SOLEFIELDS’
gillian draper
The production of this paper was stimulated by the National Trust’s two repair and conservation projects at Knole House, Sevenoaks (2011-2019), allowing reconsideration of its development over the centuries.1 The paper examines the significance of the ‘Battle of Solefields’ during the Cade rebellion of 1450 which took place very close to Knole Park, just across the major Rye-London road. It also considers the motivations for Archbishop Thomas Bourchier’s acquisition of the House in 1456 and its radical rebuilding, appreciating as he did its value in maintaining political control in this western part of the Kent where disaffection was prevalent.
The background to Jack Cade’s rebellion (like that of the Peasants’ Revolt in 1381) were the long-term repercussions of the Black Death of 1349 which led to significant changes to the population, economy and society of England. The military and political background in 1450 was also very significant. The Hundred Years’ War, and its heavy taxation requirements, was then in its final stages. The generosity of Henry VI towards his closest supporters was the dominant political issue of the time. A common thread was resentment at the oppressive lordship of men who had made many land acquisitions and much money out of these changes. A number of these men were resented, also, because they were royal favourites and, at the level of county government where most ordinary people encountered them, they had been appointed to offices such as sheriff or justice of the peace, and were corrupt in varying degrees.
Most prominent, and most resented, was James Fiennes. He was born c.1390 to gentry parents of Herstmonceux in Sussex, where his older brother built the castle.2 As a young man, in 1415, James Fiennes served in the Agincourt campaign and in Henry V’s conquest of Normandy. By 1430 James Fiennes had established his main seat at the manor of Hever, near Tonbridge, and from 1433 he became justice of the peace, sheriff and MP for Kent. By 1440 Fiennes began a rapid rise in influence and wealth as a member of the inner circle surrounding the king, headed by William de la Pole, Duke of Suffolk. Fiennes received many royal favours in return, especially lands and profitable wardships, annuities and offices. In 1444 Fiennes received a life grant of the stewardship of some archiepiscopal lands by Archbishop John Stafford at Henry VI’s request: these lands were at Otford and South Malling, Sussex. Archbishop Stafford, who was also chancellor of England, made a pointed comment on his reasons. He told the prior of Canterbury that he
image
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122
Fig. 1 The location of Sevenoaks and the main roads through medieval Kent, from The Historical Atlas of Kent,
by kind permission.
KNOLE HOUSE, JACK CADE AND THE ‘BATTLE OF SOLEFIELDS’
had made this grant ‘havyng consyderacion how the seid James stondyng aboute the Kyng as he dooth, may dayly proufyte our church and us’.3
Fiennes was knighted in 1444 and by 1446 he received manors in Kent, Surrey, Sussex and Warwickshire, including Knole which was acquired in the latter year probably by intimidation (ODNB James Fiennes).4 In 1447 he was created Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports and Constable of Dover Castle, which went with the wardenship. In the same year he was created Lord Saye and Sele (Seal, a market village from at least 1233, which lies just to the north of Knole).5 1447 was a notable year politically, too: Fiennes was appointed chamberlain of the household which gave him control over access to the king. Towards what turned out to be the end of Fiennes’ life, he built up two big blocks of land in Kent, one around Knole and Seal, and the other on Romney Marsh. This he did this by purchase and, as he admitted to his confessor, by intimidation.6 In 1449 Fiennes assumed the office of Lord Treasurer. By this time he was commonly regarded as ‘that dastard of renown’ for his part in the misgovernment of England, its bankruptcy and military humiliation.7
Medieval rebellions typically involved the build-up of resentments widely in society, and the exchange of ideas about tackling them, both by word of mouth and sometimes in writing. A revolt usually consisted of the gathering of small groups of people who joined with each other with an increasing determination to petition the king about the bad lordship being exercised over him by men who were supposed to be his just representatives. These small groups came together from both villages and towns and in due course a march on London to present petitions might follow. By the time the petitioners had neared London, gathering at a convenient meeting place such as Blackheath and the king had got word of it, he either went out in person to meet the ‘rebels’ or sent his forces to do so.
Not surprisingly the main routes which the rebel groups might take to and from London were important, and in the late Middle Ages the main roads from Kent (and Sussex) were limited to three (Fig. 1). These three routes were the old Roman road, Watling Street, which ran from Dover to Canterbury and onto London; secondly the ‘fish route’ from Rye through the Weald via Lamberhurst, Tonbridge, Sevenoaks, Chipstead, Orpington and onto London; and thirdly the route from the Cinque Ports of Hythe and New Romney via Ashford, Maidstone and London. The county ‘was notorious for the speed with which news could travel from one end of the county to the other’.8 Roads were thus important to rebels and this is pointed up by the fact that armed bands from Sussex gathered at the important market village of Robertsbridge close to the London-Rye fish route and adjacent to the border with Kent.9 This road was the quickest route from the south coast to London until the sixteenth century.10 At Sevenoaks itself the very early road to Otford through the Darent Valley and on to Dartford left the fish route just to the north-west of Knole. Before 1300 Sevenoaks was also surrounded by a network of smaller roads, lanes and paths connecting the surrounding villages, hamlets and farms to the shambles and stalls of Sevenoaks market centre, including a bridle-way passing close to where Knole manor house was built before the mid-fifteenth century.11
At the start of Cade’s rebellion the complaints of the commons of Kent, in
effect a manifesto addressed to the King, were set out in writing in (at least) three
GILLIAN DRAPER
versions.12 They were largely the product of the county community of ‘40 shilling freeholders’, that is including ‘merchants, well-to-do artisans, and the up-and- coming yeomen who formed a group so characteristic of fifteenth-century Kentish society’.13 One version, perhaps the first, was entitled ‘The compleyntys & causes of the assemble on blake hethe [Blackheath]’.14 Its first concern was the rumour circulating in Kent that the county was to be destroyed by royal power and made into a wild forest (depopulated) in revenge for the murder of the Duke of Suffolk by the commons of Kent, an act they denied.15 They also complained about years of heavy taxation to fund the French war, the loss of Normandy and corruption, particularly that the court had been dominated by Suffolk and also James Fiennes, and misused their offices mightily, notably controlling access to the king unless bribes were paid.
Besides their complaints, the commons of Kent set out their demands for a
response and remedy:
we will that all men know we blame not all the lords, nor all those that are about the king’s person, nor all gentlemen nor yeomen, nor all men of law, nor all bishops, nor all priests, but all such as may be found guilty by just and true inquiry and by the law. Where[fore] we move and pray that some true justice with certain true lords and knights may be sent into Kent for to inquire of all such traitors and bribers, and that … his letters patent to all the people there … openly be read and cried, that it is our sovereign lord’s will and prayer of all his people truly to inquire of every man’s government and of defaults that reign, neither for love, favour, dread, nor hate, and that due judgment shall be forthwith and thereupon.16
However a response and remedy did not happen promptly and in early June 1450 there was an armed uprising in Kent which was supported in Essex and other Home Counties, with rebels gathering on Blackheath. The rebels were yeoman farmers, prosperous villagers, townsfolk and even lesser gentry, i.e. precisely those who suffered from corruption over land dealings, supported by well-armed men drawn from the county militia.
In response to the armed uprising Henry VI adjourned Parliament at Leicester, hurried back to London and marched on Blackheath. Cade’s followers dispersed, perhaps not wanting open warfare with the king, but were forced into a pitched battle at Solefields on the edge of Sevenoaks (see below). On 29 June the main force reassembled at Blackheath while more men from Sussex and Surrey and Essex gathered at Mile End, with Henry VI meanwhile having retreated to Kenilworth (Warks.). On 1 or 2 July the rebels entered the City over London Bridge.
On 4 July the rebels demanded that they themselves try the officials and Fiennes. He was beheaded with other officials and their heads mounted on spears on London Bridge. Fiennes’ naked body was dragged back to Southwark behind Cade’s horse and there was looting and violence. A truce was called and the archbishop of Canterbury, John Stafford, received the rebels’ petitions, and free pardons were offered.17 The rebels dispersed, satisfied, but on 10 July Jack Cade was declared a traitor. A few days later Cade was captured, and his body beheaded and quartered at Newgate and his head put on London Bridge. On 1 August Archbishop Stafford was appointed to a commission for Kent to resolve the underlying problems and causes of the rising. Although there were also attempts to respond to the demands
KNOLE HOUSE, JACK CADE AND THE ‘BATTLE OF SOLEFIELDS’
of the Cade rebels to rectify the extortions and malpractices under Lord Saye and Sele, unrest continued in both Kent and Sussex until 1452 and for a number of years thereafter.18
The battle of Solefields
A small group of royalists pursued the rebels down the road to Sevenoaks after they dispersed from their first gathering on Blackheath in early June to avoid open warfare with the king. The royalist pursuers were led by Sir Humphrey Stafford and his kinsman Sir William Stafford, and in a confrontation with the rebels near Solefields both Staffords were killed. Cade donned Sir Humphrey’s armoured velvet jacket and his spurs and proceeded to ride about in them. This was a pivotal point in the rebellion: following it Cade’s followers began to regroup, encouraged firstly by this victory over the Staffords, and secondly enraged by news of random violence inflicted on villagers of west Kent over the following few days by members of the king’s entourage.19 The regrouping of Cade’s followers led to the dramatic events of July in London. Without the foolhardy action of the Staffords, the rebellion as such might have petered out.
Archbishop Bourchier and Knole
Archbishop Bourchier played a key part in the politics of the later 1450s and this paper strongly argues that he appreciated from the ongoing unrest in Kent after Cade’s rebellion that if its fundamental causes – war, taxation and corruption – were not fully dealt with, further risings might be expected. He became Archbishop of Canterbury in 1454, and Chancellor of England in 1455, buying the manor of Knole in 1456 from William Fiennes, son of the beheaded James, for 400 marks.20 (The purchase agreement itself is examined in detail in the article on pp. 258-73). Little is known of the Fiennes’ manorial building at Knole, which had a single central courtyard with an entrance gateway in its eastern perimeter wall with turrets at the northern and southern ends, all later concealed by the eastern range and chapel of the subsequent much larger and grander archiepiscopal house.
Bourchier rebuilt Fiennes’ manor house anew between 1456 and 1468 and surrounded the deer park with pales,21 and probably also the bank which still survives alongside the London-Rye fish route. Building accounts, architectural features and heraldic devices demonstrate that Bourchier was responsible for the rebuilding of Knole on the foundations of Fiennes’ home in 1456-59. He then greatly extended Knole in 1460-68 with Bourchier’s tower (Fig. 2), the Great Hall, Stone Court, his chapel, private apartments, great chamber and a principal staircase.22 Gregory attributed the entrance gatehouse in the west front (‘The Outer Wicket’), with its battlements and machicolations to 1470-74, and also the Stable Court and Barn, and Green Court with its two ranges and a now-lost curtain wall joining it to Stone Court.23 Thus most of what is now seen at Knole derives from Bourchier’s time, although Thomas Sackville made important changes and updates to the façade (west front) and interior, such as building the grand staircase, in 1603-08. In Bourchier’s later days Knole became his favourite home, and he died there.24
Meanwhile, many parts of the country, but especially Kent, continued to exper-
GILLIAN DRAPER
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Fig. 2 Archbishop Bourchier’s central tower at Knole, photographed from his gatehouse (S. Draper).
ience general lawlessness and minor insurrections. Bourchier clearly recognised the significance of Knole’s location, close to a main route to London and the Weald where unrest was particularly prevalent. Indeed between the 1450s and 1480s Kent was at the centre of political events, and Thomas Bourchier, from a prominent Yorkist family, knew this very well. Unrest was recorded at Sevenoaks in the Knole building accounts of 1461-62 which had prevented the reeve from collecting the rents due there, the unrest presumably connected to the usurpation of Henry VI’s throne by Edward, Duke of York.25 The Kentish gentry had turned from the Lancastrians to support the Yorkists but the county remained unsettled under Edward IV and there were minor insurrections and popular unrest in 1467-68. Kent was in a state of ‘political turmoil’ and ‘violent unrest’ in autumn 1470 at the time of Henry VI’s Readeption.26
The advantageous location of Knole
Bourchier’s ambitious development of Knole suggests that he preferred its site to that of his palace at nearby Otford. However it is hard to agree with Gregory that ‘Knole acted as a secluded retreat away from main roads and passing traffic’ in contrast to the archiepiscopal palace at Otford which ‘stood in a village, beside the road from London to Canterbury’, which was not the case.27 Indeed Gregory himself noted that Knole was in a rather exposed location such that it might well have been damaged by Jack Cade and his rebels during their march through Kent.28 Rather than being a secluded retreat, this paper argues that Bourchier, immersed in national politics and well understanding Kentish society, bought Knole in order to provide himself with an opportunity to exercise surveillance over the road from
KNOLE HOUSE, JACK CADE AND THE ‘BATTLE OF SOLEFIELDS’
the coast. Bourchier’s tower of c.1460 and gatehouse of c.1470 could be used as a place of deterrence and defence, and in which soldiers might be gathered to attack any future rebels. Furthermore, the main track in and out of Knole led to its main gate on the Rye-London road. The entrance to Knole was thus immediately across the road from St Nicholas, the parish church of Sevenoaks which itself was adjacent to the road. The church was largely rebuilt in the fifteenth century, probably under Archbishop Bourchier, and including another very high tower (90 feet).29 allowing further opportunity for surveillance of the road to London.
In the late Middle Ages men of power were very aware of the significance of sites with good views of strategic routes, and if they chose to build on them, they would erect buildings with defensive features such as moats, although that was not an option at Knole which is, indeed, on a knoll.30 In the late Middle Ages early news of such attacks or of uprisings demanded that lords held sites with outlooks over routes and opportunities for communication by road. The Knole gatehouse is now open to the public, allowing a clear view of the Rye-London road from between the battlements, and so provides today’s visitor a fine opportunity to reflect on this motive for Bourchier’s building.
endnotes
N. Cohen, F. Parton et al., 2019, Knole Revealed: Archaeology and Discovery at a Great County
House (National Trust), p. 16.
For this and what follows, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (online) [ODNB] James
Fiennes, first Baron Saye and Sele; ODNB Geoffrey de Say, second Lord Say (1304/5-1359).
J.B. Sheppard (ed.), 1889, Literae Cantuarienses: the Letter Books of the Monastery of Christ Church, Canterbury, 3, Rolls Series 85, p. 182.
TNA Feet of Fines CP 25/1/115/319, number 648, 19 June 1446 and 6 October 1446, http:// www.medievalgenealogy.org.uk/fines/abstracts/CP_25_1_115_319.shtml.
Seal lies on the major west-east road through Kent now represented by the A25, and there is a clear cigar-shaped medieval market area where the road runs through the village centre, Calendar of Charter Rolls 1226-57, p. 186; Gazetteer of Markets and Fairs in England and Wales to 1516 https:// archives.history.ac.uk/gazetteer/gazweb2.html [accessed 27.8.2020].
`R. Virgoe, 1964, ‘Ancient Indictments in King’s Bench referring to Kent, 1450-1452’, in
Documents Illustrative of Medieval Kentish Society (ed. F. Du Boulay), Kent Records 18, pp. 232-
33. Fiennes’ confessor, Thomas Oldhall, testified in the early 1460s that Fiennes had taken the manor of Crowthorn in Romney Marsh forcibly, TNA C 1/27/419.
ODNB James Fiennes, citing R.H. Robbins (ed.) 1959, Historical Poems of the XIVth and XVth centuries.
I.M.W.Harvey, 1991, Jack Cade’s Rebellion of 1450, Oxford, p. 16.
M. Mate, 1992, ‘The Economic and Social Roots of Medieval Popular Rebellion: Sussex in 1450-1451’, The Economic History Review, New Series, 45:4, 664.
D. Killingray and E. Purves (eds), Sevenoaks: an Historical Dictionary, Phillimore, Andover (2012), p. 160. The Hastings to London road joined the Rye route at Flimwell, G. Draper, 2019, ‘The Development of Settlement and Routes through the Weald, c.1000-1500, with a Case-Study of a Secondary ‘Pilgrim Route’ in Sussex’, Medieval Settlement Research, 34, 1-21.
F. Du Boulay, 1974, ‘The Assembling of an Estate: Knole in Sevenoaks c. 1275 to c. 1525’, Archaeologia Cantiana, 89, 3, 6, 7. The use of the paths and bridle-way through Knole, although a private deer park, continued to be regarded by the Sevenoaks population as their vital customary right, D. Killingray, 1994, ‘Rights, ‘Riot’ and Ritual: The Knole Park Access Dispute, Sevenoaks, Kent, 1883-5’, Rural History 5, 1, 64-65.
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D. Grummitt, 2010, ‘Kent and National Politics, 1399-1461’, in Later Medieval Kent, 1220- 1540, ed. S. Sweetinburgh (Boydell Press), pp. 246-47. Harvey gave and discussed the three versions, Jack Cade’s Rebellion pp. 186-91; J. Gairdner (ed.), 1880, ‘Historical Memoranda of John Stowe: On Cade’s rebellion (1450)’, in Three Fifteenth-Century Chronicles with Historical Memoranda by John Stowe, ed. James Gairdner (London), pp. 94-103, British History Online http://www.british-history. ac.uk/camden-record-soc/vol28/pp94-103 [accessed 29 August 2020].
Harvey, Jack Cade’s Rebellion, p. 104.
Harvey, Jack Cade’s Rebellion, p. 186.
S. Sweetinburgh, 2004, ‘Cade’s Rebellion’, in An Historical Atlas of Kent, eds. T. Lawson and
D. Killingray (Phillimore), 61.
English modernised. The popular grievances were frequently quoted later by the Yorkists during the Wars of the Roses, for propaganda purpose, https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Complaint_of_ the_Poor_Commons_of_Kent [accessed 29.8.2020]
Sweetinburgh, ‘Cade’s Rebellion’, p. 61.
Mate, ‘Medieval Popular Rebellion’, 674.
ODNB Jack Cade.
Kent History and Library Centre, U1450/T4/17.
K. Taylor, 2003, ‘The Development of the Park and Garden of Knole’, Archaeologia Cantiana 123, 154; A. Gregory, 2010, ‘Knole: an architectural and social history of the Archbishop of Canterbury’s House, 1456-1538’, unpubl. University of Sussex thesis, pp. 46, 71, 97.
Set out in detail in Gregory, ‘Knole: an architectural and social history’, pp. 22-81. Pales and the park gate were repaired in 1487, ibid., p 91. The building history is summarised in Cohen and Parton, Knole Revealed, pp. 12-15, 31, 37-8, 40-43, 94.
Gregory described the gatehouse as having ‘sham martial formidability’, Gregory, ‘Knole: an architectural and social history’, p. 56.
F. Du Boulay, 1950, ‘A Note on the Rebuilding of Knole by Archbishop Bourgchier’,
Archaeologia Cantiana, 63, 136.
Du Boulay, ‘Assembling of an Estate: Knole’, 8.
M. Mercer, 2010 ‘Kent and National Politics, 1461-1509’, in in Later Medieval Kent, 1220– 1540, ed. S. Sweetinburgh (Boydell), pp. 253-256.
Gregory, ‘Knole: an architectural and social history’, p.118.
Gregory, ‘Knole: an architectural and social history’, 19.
D. Killingray, 1990, ‘St Nicholas Parish Church Sevenoaks: a Brief History’ (Sevenoaks Parish
Church), p. 3
F. Meddens and G. Draper, 2014, ‘Out on a Limb’: insights into Grange, a small member of the Cinque Ports confederation’, Archaeologia Cantiana, 135, 1-32. In the later fourteenth century there is the example of an extraordinarily wealthy lord mayor of London, John Philpot, who had been supporter and financier to King Richard III in his war with France in the 1370s and 80s. Philpot acquired the manor of Grange near Gillingham overlooking the place where the Medway joined the Thames and from where he would get news of any French or Spanish fleets approaching the City by river. He built a new large moated manor house, and as it happens, subsequently became one of the men who beheaded the rebels of the Peasants’ Revolt in 1381.
THE COMPLEX OF ROMAN BUILDINGS EXCAVATED BY MAAG AT EAST FARLEIGH, 2005-17: AN INTERIM REPORT
stephen clifton
In 2005 Maidstone Area Archaeological Group (MAAG) was asked to re- excavate a Roman building discovered in 1839 on land adjacent to the River Medway in East Farleigh. Twelve years later the group had uncovered at least six buildings, under the direction of the late Albert Daniels with the assistance of the author and other group members. Some parts of the site proved to be remarkably well preserved and represented a number of different phases of activity spanning the late Iron Age to the 5th Century ad. Expectations were that the Group were investigating ‘just another Roman villa’, but these were confounded, and the site is now confidently identified as a religious sanctuary, with buildings of unusual architectural form.
In the 1830s a Roman building was discovered by workmen on agricultural land in East Farleigh whilst putting in new trackways and agricultural buildings. A measured plan was published by J. Smith in 1839 titled ‘Foundations of a Roman Villa at East Farleigh’, and is the first reference to Roman buildings on the site (Fig. 1). It also refers to previous removals of ‘foundations’ (Smith 1839, 57). MAAG were invited to the site, centred on NGR TQ 72850/53620, by the modern owners in 2005 to see whether there was any more to the building and to improve on the rather basic plan. When the group started to excavate, under the direction of the late Albert Daniels, latterly assisted by the author, there was very little expectation of finding anything other than a previously disturbed site. A resistivity survey was carried out, followed by targeted test pits, and the outline of a building was established. Despite the lack of preservation in some places it soon became clear that the site had not been examined archaeologically, and that it was largely untouched. The building (Building 1) was explored with selective trenching over two seasons that identified the layout of the structure and some tentative dating. However, it did not match the building on the 1839 plan. Indeed, during the group’s time at the site this structure was never identified. It seems most likely that it was largely removed to make way for the hop pickers’ accommodation which is in the south-east corner of the site; the brick wall footings of the modern buildings and a concrete yard were still evident. MAAG went on to investigate the site for a further twelve years, uncovering at least six buildings in total as well as identifying significant Iron Age activity. The group are continuing to excavate on land to the south of the buildings where evidence for further activity before and after the Roman period is emerging (Clifton 2019).
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Fig. 1 Plan of the 1839 Roman building discovered at East Farleigh (Smith 1839).
To appreciate the site at East Farleigh it is important to have a broader understanding of the local Roman geographic context (Fig. 2). Along this part of the river Medway there are a number of known villa sites, at Teston, Barming, and other buildings in Maidstone, such as the Mount Roman villa and another potential villa to the east, near Loose Road. There are Roman-period burials along the route of the modern roads in East Farleigh, which indicate the existence of a similar road pattern in the Roman period and suggests that there may have been a river crossing at East Farleigh where the buildings excavated by MAAG look across the valley at the possible villa settlement at Barming (Payne 1880, 169). It is easy to imagine a crossing point here, probably predating the Roman era, hinted at by the late Iron Age finds and features found on both sides of the river. Unfortunately, none of these nearby villas have been fully excavated, with the exception of the
ROMAN BUILDINGS EXCAVATED BY MAAG AT EAST FARLEIGH: AN INTERIM REPORT
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Fig. 2 Map of Roman north Kent (redrawn, after Andrews 2001).
Mount (Houliston 1999), which sits to the east of a bend in the river Medway and is probably associated with the Roman road from Rochester to the south coast (Margary 1946, 33).
Iron Age Origins
The earliest activity close to the East Farleigh buildings appears to date from the late Iron Age, based on the pottery (Lyne 2019) and two coins dated to 10 bc and ad 1 found in later contexts (Holman 2019). There are two ditches (A and B), that underlie several of the Roman buildings (Fig. 3). These were traced over a 70m length, running roughly east-west in parallel, approximately 5.5m apart and then turning to the north where it was possible to glimpse at least one of the ditches beneath Building 6 and other features. Pottery from the ditches has suggested that they remained open for some time, possibly as long as 150 years in the case of ditch B. Several coins have been found in contexts possibly related to the cessation of the ditches dated to the late first or early second century ad and are consistent with four cremation burials found approximately 150m to the south in 2019, (Clifton 2019).
Unfortunately, it was not possible to explore the full extent of this ditch system, and so we do not really know its purpose or significance. The fill of the ditches at East Farleigh indicated a continuation of use well into the Roman period, yet we did not encounter any further evidence of settlement elsewhere on the site that could be dated to this period in support.
One significant find in ditch B was an almost intact jar in black Belgic grog-
tempered fabric, dated 50 bc-ad 60 (Lyne 2019). It was found in one of the lower
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132
Fig. 3 The Iron Age ditches at East Farleigh (Daniels and Clifton 2020).
ROMAN BUILDINGS EXCAVATED BY MAAG AT EAST FARLEIGH: AN INTERIM REPORT
fills. Assumed to be a ritual deposition due to its complete nature, perhaps placed when the ditch was partially filled with water.
Given the dating of the ditches and their position in the valley floor close to the River Medway, it is possible that we are looking at an oppidum, similar to Quarry Wood at Loose, which Detsicas suggests was part of a network controlling the river crossings, (Detsicas 1983, 2). Quarry Wood also has numerous later Roman structures associated with it. However, there are topographical limitations at East Farleigh. The site is situated on a plateau adjacent to the River Medway with a steep slope down to the river, limiting its potential extent. However, as has been shown at other similar sites, such as Verulamium, oppida can vary greatly in size, and there is much debate about the way that they functioned, with clear evidence for zoning and a wide variety of different activities (Niblett 2001, 47). The continuity of activity from the first century bc through to the Roman period, with no apparent hiatus around ad 43, is a common finding at Roman period sites in the South-East. Subsequent work by MAAG, 150m to the south, on a break of slope has revealed further activity from the first century ad (Clifton 2019). Here a possible Iron Age enclosure ditch is cut by a palisade trench with associated cremation burials dated approximately ad 70-100 (Lyne 2019). Once again, no identifiable domestic structures, or other indicators, were observed leading to a tentative working
hypothesis of ritual usage.
The Six Roman-Period Buildings discovered by MAAG
The buildings were numbered by MAAG in the order in which they were discovered and excavated. Buildings 2, 3 and 4 turned out to predate 1, 5 and 6, hence the order in which they are described below (Figs 4 and 5).
Building 2: the first of the stone buildings constructed on the site seems to coincide with the filling in of the Iron Age ditches c.ad 150. This is a barn-like structure orientated roughly east-west, with a large 3.27m wide door opening in the southern wall. It is estimated to have been just under 27m in length, but the width is less certain, as all of the northern side of the building appears to have been lost during the Roman period remodelling and then further truncated by the 19th-century trackway and revetment. Only the southern corners and the southern wall remain, removed to the level of the floor and truncated at the western end by the later building. Its shape would suggest a utilitarian building and it would seem likely that there were other buildings associated with it, but none were identified during the excavation programme. It is hard to date the demolition of this early phase of building; however, it would appear from the pottery evidence that the later building that replaced it (Building 3) was constructed around ad 200, suggesting a demolition date prior to that but after 150.
Building 3: appears to have replaced Building 2, although also losing its north- eastern corner to the modern revetment and remained partially standing to a level of eight or nine courses of stone in its south-western corner (Fig. 6). It measured 27 x 7.8m and was on a slightly different alignment to the building that it replaced. It had a large, 3.39m wide entrance in the southern wall. There were originally
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Fig. 4 Site plan of the complex of Roman buildings at East Farleigh (Daniels and Clifton 2017).
two internal walls, and evidence for an external door in the northern wall of the western end room, but the corresponding position in the eastern end has been lost. There is evidence for a metalled surface overlying the demolished internal wall at the eastern end suggesting that the removal of the internal walls represented a repurposing of the building, rather than a preliminary stage of the demolition. At the western end, the floor consisted of the natural sandy Gault Clay which had been turned dark red from the heat of numerous oven structures of varying size dug into the floor. Pottery from the building suggests that this transformation in usage took place during the third century. The reddening of the clay surface stretched to halfway down the building but did not impact on the walls and was also confined to the inside of the building. It also crossed the area where both internal walls had been removed suggesting that it had occurred before the insertion of the ovens.
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ROMAN BUILDINGS EXCAVATED BY MAAG AT EAST FARLEIGH: AN INTERIM REPORT
135
Fig. 5 Plans of Buildings 2, 3 and 4 (Daniels and Clifton 2017).
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Fig. 6 The central area of Building 3 (Clifton 2011), looking north showing the reddened earth from the heat of ovens at the western end and the late corn-dryer inserted over the fill of ditch B. The southern wall and entrance to Building 2 can be seen in the centre, reduced to floor level. The southern entrance to Building 2 can be seen in bottom right.
A later phase of usage was represented by three larger ‘corn-dryer’ type ovens which were inserted into the building, cutting through the reddened floor surface, and although these yielded no dating evidence, they must have been introduced late in the building’s life, probably in the fourth or fifth centuries. When excavated, a large capping stone was found placed on top of one of the structures. This stone showed no sign of the effects of heat or indeed any usage, and so the conclusion must be drawn that this was a ritual act at the cessation of its useful life, a phenomenon seen elsewhere on the site.
Building 4: Building 3 does not appear to have been constructed as a stand-alone structure – indeed there are two walls running off to the north and the west from the north-western corner of the building (Fig. 5). The wall heading north connecting to what appears to be the corner of another building, with an additional wall running off to the west from this corner. Unfortunately, this structure, Building 4, appears to have been all but lost to us, due to the 19th-century track and revetment which has left only a few stones at its south-west corner. Indeed, the revetment is built of stone suspiciously like that of the Roman era structure that it replaced.
The wall running off to the west from the remains of Building 4 appears to have been demolished to accommodate the construction of Building 5 (see below),
ROMAN BUILDINGS EXCAVATED BY MAAG AT EAST FARLEIGH: AN INTERIM REPORT
as it peters out a few feet from that building’s eastern wall. This would suggest that Building 3 was part of an interim phase of construction and there may have been other buildings associated with it that were either demolished during the remodelling of the site in the second or third centuries, or during the subsequent 19th-century ground works, such as the fragment of Building 4. No trace of any other buildings from that phase was found during the excavation. Whatever buildings were originally associated with it is clear that Building 3 was retained as part of the next phase of building, sometime in the first half of the third century.
Building 5: is one of four buildings that shares a geometric alignment around an apparently open courtyard space facing north-east. It is the most complete building and survives to waist height in places and retains its whole floor plan. It sits in the south-western corner of the site and is aligned with Buildings 1 and 6 (see below) which look to have been conceived as an architectural whole.
The building measures 13.9 x 12.05m and has a corridor or ambulatory on three sides, and a central double cella (Figs 7-9). The corridor is 2.2m wide. There
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Fig. 7 Plan of Building 5 (Daniels and Clifton 2010).
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Fig. 8 Drawing of Building 5 showing arrangement of internal doors (Clifton 2020).
are indications that the corridor had two partition walls, which may have been removable. The section of corridor on the southern side was separated from the rest of the corridor by a wall with a doorway. The floor of this separate area was different to the rest of the building having no obvious floor surface other than the local clay and hassock and appeared to be of a utilitarian function. The outer walls of the building had been removed down to one or two courses of stone, especially at the north-eastern corner, although the western wall retained stonework to approximately a metre in height. The inner cella was still standing to approximately
1.5m in places, although the north-eastern corner was severely reduced. The building was constructed of local ragstone with some tufa quoining evident. Unusually for
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Fig. 9 Buildings 3 and 5 seen from the south (Clifton 2020).
ROMAN BUILDINGS EXCAVATED BY MAAG AT EAST FARLEIGH: AN INTERIM REPORT
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Fig. 10 (above) Building 5 seen from the west and (right) painted plaster on external wall
(Clifton 2010).
Britain there was some painted wall plaster remaining on the external western wall comprising black banding separating a lower red section and an upper white/ pale blue section (Fig. 10). This plasterwork did not appear to extend around the corners to the adjacent walls. There was also evidence for painted plaster on the internal walls although none remained attached. This plasterwork was painted a deep ‘Pompean’ red, except for areas at the western end of the northern corridor and the southern section where it was painted white. There were no indications of any
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windows, nor were there any remains of columns or column bases found. The western end of the building and the central cella were covered in a thick layer of tumbled stone, indicating that this area of the building had been standing to a significant height, until it either fell or was pushed over. There was no wall plaster amongst this stone layer indicating that it had probably fallen off due to weathering long before the wall itself collapsed. Significantly, there was little roof tile in amongst the stone tumble, suggesting that the roof had been removed, probably at the time that the doorway was blocked. Over the whole site only a fraction of the original roofing was recovered indicating that, along with the bulk of the stone, it had been taken for reuse elsewhere. Of the roofing material that was recovered, there was a wide variety of forms and fabrics suggesting that it too had originally been recycled from other buildings, some no doubt from earlier buildings on site, but also some from elsewhere. A rare find was a number of fragments of ridge tiles, in both a red and cream coloured fabric, some of which retained red paint suggesting that the white ones had had been painted to match the red. The floors consisted of a metalled surface, formed of small stones pressed into the clay. This floor survives in patches, and in between, a sub-layer of much larger ragstone pieces was revealed.
The cella is subdivided into two chambers of roughly equal size, with a large double doorway between. There are also large double doorways between the corridor and the first cella chamber on the northern and eastern walls. In the inner chamber of the cella there is a small rectangular oven built into the north-western corner and in the outer chamber there is a large square oven, with a circular inset, that appears to be a bread oven, built into the south-western corner, although it is possible that this was constructed for a different purpose initially. These two oven structures, made of stone, appear to be part of the original structure of the building. Additionally, there are a number of more ad hoc, oven-like structures, that appear to date from late in the building’s life, inserted into this part of the building (see discussion of ovens below). A lead tablet, believed to be a defixio, was uncovered amongst the stone demolition layer and was found to contain a list of 14 names, both Celtic and Roman (Tomlin 2016, 415). Its identification as a defixio was due to the mirror writing that was employed. This practice was common on these ‘curse tablets’ and other examples are known from Bath and Uley (Gloucs.).
A hoard of 154 copper alloy coins was found in the floor of the inner chamber. These coins are predominantly clipped copies and all date to the House of Constantine, ad 330-365. Several very worn coins of the House of Theodosius, ad 395-402, were found amongst the stone demolition (Holman 2018), consistent with similar finds from elsewhere on the site. These suggest a final demolition date at the end of the fourth century, or more likely given the worn condition of the coins, sometime in the fifth century.
Building 5 appears to be a Romano-Celtic style temple, although its plan is unusual for Britain, with most parallels occurring on the Continent such as Cocquerel, Equevillon, and Kornelimunster. The nearest equivalent in Britain is perhaps Lamyatt Beacon (Somerset) or Dean Hall (Gloucs.). However, East Farleigh differs from these, as they are believed to be ‘podium’ temples, accessed via steps directly into the central cella section. Building 5 on the other hand is accessed via a doorway directly into the northern corridor.
ROMAN BUILDINGS EXCAVATED BY MAAG AT EAST FARLEIGH: AN INTERIM REPORT
The main entrance faces the courtyard, to the north-east. This doorway was
2.39m wide and when discovered was blocked with mortared stone infill. The sides of the doorway were formed from semi-circular tufa blocks and suggested that the doorway was not furnished with doors and was designed to facilitate the passage of large numbers of people. There is a secondary external doorway of standard size on the eastern wall at the south-east corner, which would originally have been behind a wall connecting Building 5 to Building 3. This small single doorway in the south-eastern corner, is suggestive of an administrative access for temple officials, an impression that is supported by the joining wall between Buildings 3 and 5, which would have created an area at the rear not seen by anyone at the front of the building. This connecting wall was later removed sometime in the third or early fourth century. The internal, ‘temporary’ walls, may have created different ‘zones’ and may explain why there are two large doors into the cella, allowing the flow of visitors to be managed around the building. It may also be that there were other small shrines within the corridor; indeed, the end of the corridor at the south- east corner is the only part of the structure where decorative mouldings survive, indicating a special area which may have been a small wall shrine. A comparison maybe the octagonal temple at Nettleton Scrubb (Wilts.) which has an aedicula or shrine built into the inner wall of the ambulatory (Wedlake 1982, 44).
At East Farleigh, the outer ambulatory wall of Building 5 does not survive beyond five or six courses above the Roman ground level, so it is impossible to tell for certain whether there were any windows. However, there were 47 pieces of window glass found at the site, predominantly from the vicinity of Building 5, suggesting that there were at least some windows in this building (Broadley 2019, 5). In parts of the building the internal walls were covered in plaster painted a dark red, which would have made the interior very dark, even on a bright day, and it would have been necessary to have used candles or lamps to navigate inside the building, especially if windows were absent in some areas. Internally the arrangement and decoration appear designed to enhance the mystical atmosphere of the buildings. What natural light there was would have come from clerestory windows high in the cella and would only have reached the ambulatory when the connecting doors were open. In the reconstruction of the buildings at East Farleigh the author has given them windows on the ambulatory simply because it seems sensible to have some natural light, but actually, there is very little evidence for windows in temple buildings. The nymphaeum at Gennes in France has windows in the apse, (Maligorne 2012, 137), and the huge cella at Autun in France also has windows on the ground floor (Lewis 1966, Plate 1a, 173), but neither of these examples are really comparable with the Romano-Celtic temples that are found in Britain. The only known site in Britain to have windows is Nettleton Scrubb, where the inner cella of the octagonal temple has a window, which the excavator believed was replicated on some of the other walls (which have not survived), allowing viewing from the ambulatory into the central area.
Building 1: uncovered in 2005 this measures 27 by 14m and does not have any direct linkage to any of the other buildings, as far as we know. The level of preservation is poor, with only a single course of un-mortared stones being all that remains of most of the walls. An exception is the north-west corner where the remains of a
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substantial mortared section of wall was revealed at a lower level than the rest of the building. This wall appears to be a surviving fragment of an earlier building, subsequently replaced by Building 1. Unfortunately, the significance of this was not appreciated at the time and it was not possible to explore it later. It is conceivable that the footings were retained because the walls were useful in this position to the replacement building, and the same technique can be seen with Buildings 2 and 3.
Building 1 has three central rooms surrounded on three sides by a corridor. There only appears to be one cross wall interrupting the corridor (other than the possible earlier phase walls noted above), at the south-western corner. The ground plan of the building is strikingly similar to Building 5, albeit extended to accommodate an extra central room. Its orientation is in line with buildings 6 and 5, pointing north-east, although it is hard to be sure whether the main entranceway was on the eastern wall facing the open area, or on the southern wall as at Meonstoke (Hants.), which has a similar structure of comparable proportions. In the reconstruction of this building the author has placed the door facing the open area to the east, because, unlike the Meonstoke example, any door in the southern wall would have opened into the first chamber of the cella, rather than the corridor, as seems to be more common with these basilical buildings elsewhere. There is no direct evidence for any doors in any of the walls due to the level of demolition. This raises the question of what this building was used for. Was it another temple, only [this time] with a triple cella? Or was it some sort of meeting place? There do not appear to be any small rooms or cells which would normally be associated with sleeping quarters. There are other fairly similar examples, such as Keston, Thurnham and Darenth. The buildings at both Keston and Thurnham are similarly located and oriented in relation to the other associated buildings on the site.
Building 6: is aligned to Buildings 1 and 5 and therefore seems to have been conceived as part of a group (Figs 11 and 12). The exact build sequence is hard to work out because all three blocks of buildings are independent of each other. However, the pottery evidence suggests a construction date at the end of the second or beginning of the third century (Lyne 2019). There were a number of coins found associated with the demolition layers, the latest of which was Theodosius I, ad 388-395 (Holman 2019).
The building measures roughly 5.0 x 5.5m. The most striking thing about it is that there is a wall (0.88m wide), running through the middle of the building from south-west to north-east. This central wall had been demolished down to close to floor level within the building, effectively forming two ‘C’ shaped sections bisected by this central wall. There was no doorway between the two halves visible, although there was a small channel, 0.12m wide, that appeared to have been built into the structure, possibly to allow drainage from one chamber to the other.
On the eastern and western side of the building were two openings, at 2.61m and 2.89m respectively (by comparison the external opening to Building 5 was 2.39m), which emphasises the different treatment of the two chambers and perhaps suggests that they were not originally intended to be seen simultaneously. These openings are not symmetrically in the centre of their respective walls, being closer to the southern ends. There is no evidence to suggest that they had doors. On both the south-western and south-eastern doorjambs there is evidence, in the
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Fig. 11 Building 6 showing development phases (Clifton 2017).
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Fig. 12 Building 6 (Clifton 2017).
shape of a spread of mortar, that at some time the openings had been altered to become narrower. But at the time of excavation no more substantial evidence of this alteration survived, suggesting that if it had been altered in this way, it had subsequently reverted to its original size or was a very insubstantial alteration.
On the inside of the southern wall of the building, where the central wall meets the outer walls there is a niche created from stone and mortar set into the wall. The niche is a small rectangular inset fashioned out of reddish orange mortar that could not have been constructed whilst the central wall was in place. (Similar features are seen at Dean Hall, Gloucs.) The wall’s removal would have turned the building into a possible gateway, given the two opposing entrances. However, there are no obvious signs of wear, or cart ruts, in the remains of the central wall to indicate traffic from one side to the other. If the central wall external to the building was removed at the same time, the land to the east and west of the building would have been accessible without the need to go through the building.
In the eastern chamber two stone ‘benches’ were found. These could perhaps be interpreted as exedre, or cult benches, where worshippers could come and share a meal with the deity. The floor in both chambers appears to have been a metalled surface, with small pieces of stone pushed into the soil. However, this floor does not extend from east to west due to the intervening central wall which protrudes slightly above the floor level.
The metalling on both sides of the building does appear to extend beyond the entrances and was followed for 1.5m to the east, suggesting a trackway or paved area
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in front of the entrances. The central wall extends beyond the building to the north and south. Time constraints meant that the wall could not be followed more than a few metres either side. However, it was possible to determine that the wall ran 7.5m to the south, and at least 5.5m to the north, although not much more. No corners were observed. Nevertheless, it is possible to infer from where the wall was absent that it must have turned to the east at both ends, creating one end of an enclosure, with the building roughly central on its western wall. The land to the east of Building 6 was not available during the period of excavation to test this theory further.
The next phase seems to be the removal of the central wall externally to the building. It is possible that this occurred simultaneously with the removal of the wall within the building. However, the utility of the building would have altered as it would then be freestanding. It may be that the narrowing of the entrances may have facilitated the fitting of doors to secure the building as a detached structure.
The addition of a low narrow wall butted against the north-west corner of the building heading north-east towards the river was the next development. This wall was roughly 0.34m thick and constructed of dressed ragstone blocks back-to-back. The wall was visible as a single course over a 12m length, laid directly onto the subsoil with no foundation and no mortar, and was robbed out for the last 2m. It led to a metalled surface of which it was possible to excavate only a small area. A cemetery wall possibly; however, no burials were discovered, and it would have been customary for such a wall to completely enclose the space, and there is no evidence of that here.
At some point before Building 6 was finally demolished it was apparently used for a different purpose. There was a feature cut into the floor of the building predominantly on the western side, but terminating on the eastern side, cutting through the central wall. This feature looks like a classic ‘corn-dryer’, however there is no sign of any burning at the stoke end and at the other end there is a hole, produced by removing the wall and floor of the building and some of the sub- floor stone make-up material. When excavated this hole was largely filled with a substantial piece of ragstone which appeared to be a ritual act of cessation. This feature looks more like some sort of sluice, than a corn-dryer, but there were no other clues to shed light on its function. It was in turn covered by demolition material from the building. There are no obvious parallels for this building in Britain, although it does appear to be reminiscent of small shrines but here installed back-to-back associated with a possible temenos.
The 1839 Building: after 12 years excavating at the site, MAAG had uncovered at least six Roman buildings but still there was no sign of the building that was found in 1839 (Fig. 1). It is likely that much of this building was removed to make way for the construction of hop-picker’s accommodation, and associated tracks and revetments in the 1830s. The author has speculatively included it in the site reconstruction based on the antiquarian references and deduction, although there is no direct archaeological evidence for it as yet. It is not known which phase it would have belonged to but as it has much the same orientation as the other later- phase buildings, it has been assumed that it may have been contemporary with them and survived into the fourth century.
From Smith’s plan it appears to be an aisled building, at least 18.5m long and
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13.4m wide. The full ground plan is not recorded, probably because only the area that they were intending to clear was exposed at the time. No indication of wall thickness is given, but the overall proportions look similar to Building 1. The main differences between them are the internal wall arrangements. This building was almost certainly much longer than shown on the partial plan, and there are walls continuing to the north-east.
This building has parallels at many other sites in Kent and appears to be quite a common, if adaptable form. Already mentioned is the similarity with the basilical building at Meonstoke, but another building at Hollingbourne, which was located primarily through resistivity survey work, also appears to be about the same prop- ortions and orientation and is similarly sited on the bank of a watercourse (Feakes 2008, 19).
The Ditches: a series of ditches that appear to have been used for draining water away from the buildings terminate just in front of the eastern end of Building 3. Excavation revealed the primary system running off to the east with a tributary joining from the south, down the hill. A magnetometry survey of the adjacent parcel of land to the east showed the ditch running along the line of slope, parallel to the river for a further 100m (Taylor 2017). This would suggest that they were designed to divert water running down the hill into these water channels away from as yet undetected buildings. It may also be that the channels, once full of water, may have been deliberately created for other purposes, possibly ritual.
Another possibility is that the ditch is taking water from an undiscovered bathhouse up the slope to the south. This may seem fanciful, but it has been a sug- gestion owing to the presence of box flue tiles on the site, but no hypocausts in any of the excavated buildings.
In the space between Buildings 3 and 4 evidence of construction work was found. There were several phases of mortar mixing and deposits of crushed tile or baked clay. There was also evidence for a channel, timber-lined close to the buildings, which was traced for a further 35m in a gulley before it was truncated by the revetment. This may have been for taking water away, avoiding the nearby structures.
The final years at East Farleigh
Sometime towards the end of the third century the site appears to have gone into decline. Pottery evidence would suggest that Building 5 was still standing in the mid fourth century and this was when the north-eastern doorway was walled up (Lyne 2019). However, activity at the building appears to continue, with at least five ovens being inserted, and quern stones and mortaria left broken inside. The outer wall of the ambulatory was removed from the north-eastern corner and some of the cella at the same point, presumably to facilitate entry to this area. Late fourth-century coins from the demolition layer over Buildings 5 and 6 suggest that these were finally demolished at the end of the fourth century or the early years of the fifth (Holman 2019). However, unlike Buildings 1, 6 and the 1839 one, the cella of Building 5, and at least some of Building 3 remained standing until this final demise, whether by natural collapse or purposeful demolition. The other buildings were dismantled down to ground level in most places, and the building
ROMAN BUILDINGS EXCAVATED BY MAAG AT EAST FARLEIGH: AN INTERIM REPORT
materials apparently removed from the site. Building 6 clearly has evidence for later re-use at the end of the fourth century, with the insertion of the sluice, and the later phase narrow wall abutted against the north-west corner.
The question therefore arises, who was reusing these buildings at the end of their life, and what for? If it is accepted that Building 5 was walled up in the mid fourth century, then there was half a century of potential use after this. Perhaps the ‘landowner’ sealed off these buildings, possibly simultaneously removing the tiles from the roof, so that the building could not be used. But the local populace may have still regarded it as a sacred site and used it as such. This later informal use is noted by Farquhar at the Progress Romano-British site near Otford (Farquhar 2017, 23), and other examples include Nettleton Scrubb (Wedlake 1982, 81), where a late shrine was constructed from building debris. At East Farleigh there are also several infant burials close to some of the standing walls, one of which was inside the south-east corner of Building 5 on the floor surface and covered with crushed burnt clay in the area where moulded cornicing may have indicated a shrine.
The ovens are a curious feature and have caused much discussion with it being suggested that the building was reused as a kitchen (Daniels 2010, 12), but another explanation may be the continued use of these as part of the rituals, either for cooking sacrificial animal parts, or for baking bread as an offering or part of the ritual. Also found were a number of broken quern stones and mortaria. These have been found at other sacred sites and quern stones are often found in structured deposits, frequently deliberately broken. It is unlikely that anyone was living in the ruined buildings; however, there are a number of post-holes from around the buildings which may indicate additional shelter was built, possibly on a temporary basis. Unfortunately, these post-holes contain no dating evidence, and stratigraphically they appear sometime between the backfilling of the Iron Age ditches, approximately ad 150/170, and the demolition of the buildings, c.400. It maybe that we are seeing a seasonal return to the site, perhaps to celebrate religious festivals by those still adhering to the deities or cults at the site, presumably without the knowledge or permission of the ‘landowner’, if indeed there was one by this time. If there was a river crossing, as seems likely, then it is possible that this was still in use even though the religious facilities may have been in ruins.
Sacred Attribution versus Villa
There are a number of sites described as ‘villas’, such as East Farleigh, that do not make sense as such and in fact have a number of characteristics which mark them out as something different. Often it is the lack of features that should make us question our assumptions. In the case of East Farleigh, the unusual arrangement of buildings and the lack of any clearly ‘domestic’ facilities was the first indication that we were not dealing with a villa. The orientation to the north-east, when most villas in south-east Britain face broadly to the south, was another. The lack of any obvious bathhouse or any hypocausted rooms was also a factor. The proximity of the East Farleigh buildings to the possible Barming villa is difficult to appreciate due to the modern plantation of trees obscuring the view, but to have two villas so close, albeit divided by river, seems unlikely.
The underlying Iron Age activity on the site is a clue to the nature of the later
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Roman-period buildings located here. If we are seeing an earlier ritual landscape then the later buildings are merely a monumentalisation of the pre-existing arrangement. This is supported by Casey’s ‘development economics’, where new wealth generated by local entrepreneurs is invested in new sacred facilities on traditional sites and at key junctions and river crossings (Casey 1992, 98). In many ways, the rise of the rural temple can be seen as part of the villa phenomenon and goes hand-in- hand with the growing prosperity of the province (Smith et al. 2018, 135). This is reflected in the spread of both Romano-Celtic temples and villas which predominate in the more affluent south-east (ibid., 133). Villa estate boundaries were indicated by property markers which had to be consecrated with a sacrifice, and villas without temple facilities were seen as ‘unprotected’ and were expected to wither and not prosper (Bowes 2006, 74). There are many examples of temples associated with villas, referred to as ‘Villenheiligtümer’ (estate shrines), such as Otrang and Newel in Gallia Belgica and Darenth and Bancroft (Bucks.) in Britain, but some sites of religious activity are close to a villa, but clearly separate, as at East Farleigh. These sites seem to be something slightly different. They are well-located, yet possibly part of an estate, placed to entice travellers and pilgrims alike to the facility in order to profit from the sale of votive items and hospitality (Woodward 1992, 47; Aldhouse- Green 2018, 88). Many were located on pre-Roman sacred sites.
At many sacred sites there are numerous buildings that do not appear to be temples or shrines, and which are difficult to identify, such as at Uley in Gloucestershire and Nettleton Scrubb (Woodward 1992, 49; Smith 2000a, 38). As King points out, ‘it is clear that the architecture of ancillary buildings at temple sites can often resemble villa buildings and can be confused with them’ (King 2018, 9). Many of the conclusions in King’s paper on the site at Meonstoke echo the thinking that took place at East Farleigh (ibid., 5).
However, there has perhaps been a tendency to over-categorise, suggesting a site is either a villa or a religious sanctuary (Bowes 2006, 73), and this may be a reflection of modern prejudices rather than a realisation of the true nature of the Roman landscape. It is hard for us now to appreciate the extent to which religion permeated every facet of life in the Roman world. Almost every action in daily life might have been accompanied by ritual or reference to an appropriate deity. Roads and river crossings would have been prime spots for a consultation to ensure that the omens were good (Derks 1998, 144), and consequently many temples are found close to roads and on the banks of rivers. The buildings at East Farleigh being one example but sites such as Nettleton Scrubb and Springhead in Kent are similarly sited.
The Finds Assemblage
MAAG’s work at East Farleigh was blessed with a wealth of small finds including over 300 coins among which were found a hoard and a very rare silver minim inscribed ‘SEGO’ and believed to be from a Kentish Iron Age king, dated ad 1-10 (Holman 2019). Also recovered were 25 boxes of animal bone (yet to be finally evaluated), and a great deal of building material, including roof tiles, painted wall plaster and plaster mouldings. There is not room in this summary to explore this in detail, but the pattern of finds has a bearing on the suggested sacred nature of the site, yet in and of themselves they do not identify a site as sacred, many of them
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being perfectly ordinary everyday items that might be expected to be recovered from a domestic setting. Indeed, it is this mundane aspect that has often contributed to the difficulty in separating secular from sacred. On top of this, the ubiquity of ritual practice in the Roman world has made it possible for either interpretation to be possible, or indeed a mixture of both (Henig 1984, 128), and it is often the subjective opinion of the excavator as to the attribution a particular find or site is given, which can result in years of misattribution, such as at Meonstoke (King 2018, 5).
The assemblage of finds at East Farleigh has many parallels with other sacred sites and is equally unremarkable in not providing a pointer towards a particular deity or ritual activity. Although there is one building believed to be a temple, there are several other buildings which could also have been shrines dedicated to other gods. The nature of the sacred beliefs and the identity of the particular deity have often been the subject of speculation based on the ‘votive’ objects. However, it may just be that people merely used whatever they owned that looked like a valuable object, irrespective of the nature of the deity. It is also suggested that items could be purchased at the temple for just this purpose. The ‘hoard’, found in the sub-floor layer of the cella of Building 5 consisted almost entirely of coins that were clipped; this is very common at cult sites and perhaps points to their preparation specifically for votive activity (Woodward 1992, 67). There were also a number of pieces of copper and lead sheet, which were uninscribed in any way, but which would most likely have been shiny when deposited. There is no indication of any sort of shop or kiosk amongst the buildings excavated so far, however there are similarities in the rings and bracelets found, which might indicate a common source produced at or near the complex. The lead defixio found at East Farleigh contains a list of 14 names (Fig. 13), some using ‘mirror writing’ to add extra potency but alas gives no further clue to the circumstances of its deposition or the deity invoked (Tomlin 2016, 415).
At East Farleigh many of the objects have been broken, often in more than one place, indicating a deliberate act. A good example is a bone stylus, broken in two places, or a mysterious jet object, broken at both ends. This is often described as the ritual ‘killing’ of an object by bending, breaking or disfiguring it. There are a number of categories of finds from East Farleigh that accord with assemblages found at other known sacred sites; a collection of 36 antler tools and horn cores, including one antler base shaped to form an amulet; 17 snapped fragments of copper alloy bracelets; 15 copper alloy rings including a key ring; nine pieces of lead or copper sheets including the defixio; two fragments of pipeclay ‘Venus’ figurines. Also found at East Farleigh were a number of fossils including a small fossilised sea urchin. Seen as curiosities when discovered, they are echoed by similar finds at Meonstoke and Farley Heath (Surrey) suggesting that these were brought to temples as offerings due to their unusual nature (King 2018, 6).
At many Roman period sites there is little left of the building other than the footprint of the walls, and it is difficult to project a three-dimensional structure from a two-dimensional ground plan. It is often the pattern of finds that confirms the site as sacred, such as at Kelvedon (Essex) where the assemblage was key to its identification as a sacred site (Smith 2000b, 98). It is not always straightforward though, as we see a bewildering array of material goods, supposedly lost or dis- carded at almost all Romano-British sites in Britain, especially villa sites, making
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Fig. 13 Defixio found at East Farleigh (illustration from R.S.O. Tomlin 2016).
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the distinction between domestic refuse and ritual offering especially finely balanced (ibid., 59).
Orientation and Location
At East Farleigh the principal entranceway to the temple (Building 5) is very conspicuous and the buildings clearly faced north-east, although due to the nature of the site around an open courtyard area, some of the doorways will inevitably face in other directions, such as those of Building 6 which has one entrance to the north- west and the other to the south-east. It is not necessarily that the every individual building is orientated to the north-east, but that the complex as a whole is angled in this direction. It may be significant that it is only at this angle that the sun never penetrates directly, and buildings can remain in permanent shade, especially if there are very few windows, which may have manifested as a sacred preference.
The proximity of a river or lesser watercourse, often to the north of the site, is a recurring theme of many sacred sites. This is likely to be accompanied by the presence of a crossing and associated roads. This is certainly true of East Farleigh, which sits on the south bank of the river Medway, and indeed may have been close to springs that issue from the ragstone bedrock into the river from time to time. Smith says that a third of all temple sites in Britain are on or near rivers (Smith 2000a, 312). Springs are obviously another focus, with Bath and Springhead as prominent examples. Sites on the coast, often near estuaries, are also a common location, such as Minster in Thanet (Parfitt 2006). Casey suggests that the answer lies in the arrival of newfound wealth being invested in new facilities on ancestral land, partly out of religiosity and munificence, but also as a visible manifestation of that wealth and as a sound investment (Casey 1992, 99).
Ovens and Temples
At East Farleigh there appear to be at least four phases of ovens. Firstly, there are the small oval-shaped structures dug into the floor of Building 3. These may predate the construction of the other buildings (5, 1 and 6), and more than likely carried on in use in support of the other structures, eventually being superseded by the corn-dryer type ovens seen at the western end of the building and finally the one in the middle of the structure. It is unclear what these were used for, but presumably some sort of baking connected with the rituals, or perhaps just to feed the assembled worshippers.
Then there are the other oven-like structures built into the fabric of Building 5 (Fig. 14). There may have been others elsewhere on the site, but they have not survived. The two inside the building, both constructed of mortared stone and built into a corner, are very different to each other. The larger of the two (the ‘bread- oven’) in the outer chamber was clearly contemporary with the construction of the building, as evidenced by the offsetting of the doors through to the inner chamber, if the doors had been central, they would have fouled the oven and it would have been too hot and cramped. It is conceivable that the structure was not originally intended as an oven; an alternative interpretation as the base for a lead tank or cult statue is possible. Any daub superstructure and plasterwork has disappeared, so it
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a b
Fig. 14 Building 5: (a) outer cella room showing various oven structures; (b) showing oven built into corner of the inner cella room.
(Clifton 2010).
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is impossible to say for sure, but the presence of reddened clay and stone within the circular structure makes its use as a hearth or oven seem likely, at least periodically. The other oven structure in the inner chamber is rectangular and much smaller and was found choked up with red and black ash and soot. The obvious question is why there are two such structures within the building, albeit of different proportions, which clearly had different functions.
In the later phase of the building’s life, after the main entrance has been walled up, and subsequently demolished, a number of other, more ad hoc, oven structures were dug into the two central chambers. In the outer room a corn-dryer with a crooked flue was built, and then a secondary structure built over the top once it had become choked up. There was also a small wattle and daub oven with a roof tile as a base, built into the middle of the floor. At least two other similar structures were inserted into the inner room, along with quern stones and two pots dug into the floor. The sheer number and variety of these structures suggests use over a long time, rather than some sort of industrial use, and supports the idea of people returning to celebrate festivals at regular times of the year and continuing to carry out the appropriate rituals which presumably involved their use.
Ovens at temple sites are quite common, and are perhaps one of the various foci of temples, alongside statues, altars and pools (Smith 2000a, 319). Ovens have been found at 17 sites in Britain, such as Verulamium’s ‘triangular temple’, Titsey in Surrey, Chanctonbury Ring in Sussex, Newington and Springhead (temple 1) in Kent. Most ovens were external to the temple structure, and this may be to avoid the risk of fire, or it may be because the associated activities took place outside the building. At only two sites (other than East Farleigh), Springhead and Brigstock, Northants., are the ovens actually inside the main temple structures. What we do not know is how exactly they were used. It has been suggested that the ovens were for preparing the sacrificed animals prior to the feast at the end of the ceremony (Greenfield 1963, 68). The examples from East Farleigh are of various sizes and shapes and clearly were intended for different purposes. Many of the structures would have been too small to have been used to cook the carcass of sheep or goat. Even if the animals had been butchered, the ovens were unsuited for use as a barbecue. They are much more reminiscent of bread-making facilities. A Kentish parallel would be the site of Roman buildings in Broadstairs where numerous ovens had been dug through the floor of a rectangular building displacing several infant burials (Moody 2007, 202); this building has the size and proportions of a shrine or small temple, and the ovens clearly demonstrated continued re-use over a long period.
Smith suggests that the frequency of ovens on sacred sites points to their import- ance within the ceremonies, and that the occurrence of mortaria are to be expected as part of the food preparation associated with the rituals (Smith 2000a, 330). Broken quern stones are another common find, and have usually been assumed to be votive offerings, rather than part of the ritual (ibid., 319). The ovens at East Farleigh were accompanied by both quern stones and mortaria fragments within the buildings. Presumably smoke from internal ovens was not an issue, merely adding to the mystical atmosphere before making its way out through the tiles on the roof, thereby confirming the lack of a ceiling and upper storey. It may also suggest that the ovens were fired up under very supervised and perhaps infrequent occasions to minimise any risk of fire.
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Fig. 15 Drawing of the complex from the north-east (Clifton 2020).
ROMAN BUILDINGS EXCAVATED BY MAAG AT EAST FARLEIGH: AN INTERIM REPORT
Conclusions and final thoughts on East Farleigh
MAAG have been able to establish that there was an Iron Age presence on the site before the buildings were constructed, possibly an oppidum. There are at least three distinct phases of buildings on the site, it finally being abandoned in the late fourth or early fifth century. The last phase of buildings was constructed in the early third century, around a courtyard area oriented north-east towards the river Medway and a possible villa on the far bank at Barming. Of these buildings at least one was a temple, to an unknown deity (or deities). Two others are possible religious buildings. (Fig. 15 shows an overall view of the complex in its final phase.) It is not clear whether the earlier phases were also of a religious nature. There is no evidence that any of the buildings are associated with a potential, as yet undiscovered, villa on the south side of the river, although it is possible that the buildings on the north side may have been part of the same Barming estate with a river crossing and associated roads. The buildings that were found in the nineteenth century were not identified during the recent programme of excavations. However, it is likely, based on the description that Smith gives us, that they were removed during the construction of the hop- picker’s accommodation and the associated farm tracks.
It has been remarked by visitors to the site how well constructed the buildings were. One observer compared them to some of the mile castles on Hadrian’s wall. Whilst there is no suggestion of military involvement, it is clear that the buildings were very competently constructed and would have represented a substantial financial investment. We know that at least one of the buildings was plastered on the outside, yet possibly only on one wall, as no other wall plaster was found in association with the other outer walls. This might indicate that this finish was to be employed on other walls and buildings, but for some reason was not completed. Examples of the roof tiles were retained during the excavation and form only a representative sample from the many fragments encountered. But the whole assemblage would only have been a fraction of what would have been needed to roof all of the buildings, suggesting that the vast majority had been removed to be reused elsewhere. By the fourth century any new building would have had to rely on recycled building material. In fact, the huge variety of different fabrics, thickness and colour of the retained examples of roof tile suggest that they in turn had been recycled from other buildings in the third century. Also recovered were a good selection of box flue tiles, yet none of the buildings were equipped with hypocausts. During excavation it was speculated that somewhere there must be a bathhouse or a hypocausted building, yet none materialised. Another explanation might be that they arrived at the site as part of the demolished remains of another building, despite not being needed.
Although MAAG excavated the site for twelve seasons, it was not possible to explore everything, and it is fair to say that there are undoubtedly many more years of archaeological work that could be done on the site to further support, or dispute, the conclusions proposed here. MAAG has continued to work on land close to the buildings described here, where Iron Age and sub-Roman features in the wider landscape are adding to the picture that we already have of Romano-British East Farleigh. The site at East Farleigh is remarkable for its level of preservation, and deserves to be appreciated for its importance both within Kent, and nationally.
acknowledgements
STEPHEN CLIFTON
This project could not have been completed without the unique character of Albert Daniels who did so much to get us to where we are, and who’s recent loss is deeply felt; thanks are due to Keith Parfitt, David Holman, Malcolm Lyne, Rose Broadley, Ges Moody, Richard Taylor, Andrew Mayfield, Paul Wilkinson and Steve Willis, all of whom contributed expert advice and encouragement; thanks are also due to KAS for a grant to fund specialist reports; to Gallaghers Cement; huge thanks are also due to the generosity of the late Bryan Boughan and Jo Boughan for allowing us to dig holes in their property for so long unmolested; and lastly the hours of work that all of the MAAG volunteers put in must be recognised and applauded.
bibliography
Aldhouse‐Green, M., 2018, Sacred Britannia – The Gods and Rituals of Roman Britain, Thames and Hudson Ltd, London.
Andrews, C., 2001, ‘Romanisation: a Kentish perspective, Archaeologia Cantiana, 121,
25-42.
Black, E., 2008, ‘Pagan religion in rural south-east Britain: contexts, deities and belief’, Ritual Landscapes of Roman South-East Britain, Oxford, Heritage Marketing/Oxbow Books, 1-25.
Bowes, K., 2006, ‘Building sacred landscapes: villas and cult’, A. Chavarría Arnau, J. Arce and G.-P. Brogiolo (eds), Villas Tardoantiguas en el Mediterráneo Occidental (Anejos de AEspA XXXIX), Madrid, 73-95.
Broadley, R., 2019, ‘Roman Glass from East Farleigh’, unpubl. report.
Casey, P.J., 1992, ‘The monetization of a third world economy: Money supply in Britain in the first century AD’, in Current Research on the Romanisation of the Western Provinces, eds. M. Wood and F. Queiroga, BAR No. 575, 95-99.
Clifton, S., 2019, ‘Excavations at East Farleigh 2019’, KAS Newsletter, 112, 6-8.
Daniels, A.J., 2010, ‘East Farleigh Roman Buildings – August 2010 Update’, KAS News- letter, 86, 12-13.
Derks, T., 1998, Gods, temples, and ritual practices: the transformation of religious ideas and values in Roman Gaul, Amsterdam University Press.
Detsicas, A., 1983, The Cantiaci, Alan Sutton Publishing, Gloucester.
Farquhar, C., 2017, ‘An examination of the religious and ritual practices of the communities at the head of the Darent valley, Kent, in the Roman period’, unpubl. m.a. dissertation. Feakes, L., 2008, ‘Hollingbourne, Roman Finds’, in Discovering Ancient Lenham, vol. 1,
Edition 2, 18-20.
Greenfield, E., 1963, ‘The Romano-British shrines at Brigstock, Northants’, Antiquaries Journal, XLIII, 228-268.
Henig, M., 1984, Religion in Roman Britain, Batsford, London.
Holman, D., 2019, ‘East Farleigh Coin Report’ (unpubl.).
Houliston, M., 1999, ‘Excavations at the Mount Roman villa, Maidstone, 1994’, Archaeo-
logia Cantiana, 119, 71-172.
King, A.C., 2018, ‘Excavations at Meonstoke Roman Site 2016 and 2017’, Hampshire
Field Club and Archaeological Society Newsletter, 69. Lewis, M.J.T., 1966, Temples in Roman Britain, CUP. Lyne, M., 2019, ‘East Farleigh Pottery Report’ (unpubl.)
Maligorne, Y., 2012, ‘La parure monumentale des agglomérations du territoire dans les cités de l’Ouest’, Aremorica, 5, 117-144.
Margary, I.D., 1946, ‘Roman roads in west Kent’, Archaeologia Cantiana, 59, 29-63.
ROMAN BUILDINGS EXCAVATED BY MAAG AT EAST FARLEIGH: AN INTERIM REPORT
Moody, G., 2007, ‘Iron Age and Romano-British Settlement at Bishop’s Avenue, North Foreland, Broadstairs’, Archaeologia Cantiana, 127, 197-211.
Parfitt, K., 2006, ’The Roman Villa at Minster-in-Thanet. Part 3: The Corridor House,
Building 4’, Archaeologia Cantiana, 135, 115-135.
Payne, G., 1880, ‘The Remains of Roman Buildings Discovered at Barming near Maidstone,
Archaeologia Cantiana, 13, 169 -170.
Smith, A., 2000a, ‘The differential use of constructed sacred space in southern Britain, from the late Iron Age to the 4th century AD’, Vol. 1 (Doctoral dissertation, University of Glamorgan).
Smith, A., 2000b, ditto Vol. 2.
Smith, A., Allen, M., Brindle, T., Fulford, M., Lodwick, L. and Rohnbogner, A., 2018, Life
and Death in the Countryside of Roman Britain, Britannia Monograph, 31, 120-204. Smith, J., 1839, Topography of Maidstone and its Environs, Printed and published by J.
Smith, pp. 56-57.
Taylor, J., 2007, An atlas of Roman rural settlement in England Council for British Arch- aeology, vol. 151.
Tomlin, R.S.O., 2016, ‘Inscriptions’, Britannia, Vol. 47, 414-415.
Wedlake, W.J., 1982, The excavation of the Shrine of Apollo at Nettleton, Wiltshire, 1956-
1971.
Woodward, A., 1992, Shrines and Sacrifice, English Heritage, BT Batsford Ltd.
ICONOGRAPHY AND ORIGIN: A TWELFTH-CENTURY LIMOGES ENAMEL PLAQUE FROM BAYHAM ABBEY IN
THE BRITISH MUSEUM
eleanor wilson
But if a faithful soul should see the representations of the Lord’s crucifixion expressed in the strokes of an artist, it is itself pierced …1
In 1984, Mr Champneys of Tunbridge Wells brought an enamel plaque to the British Museum (reliquary plaque, copper alloy and enamel, Limoges, Bayham Abbey(?), British Museum, c.1170-1190, 144 x 284mm).2 The plaque’s wooden mounts bore the script, ‘Purchased of Mrs Barr of Hook Green. May 1874. F.H’. F.H is said to indicate the initials of the vendor’s ancestor, who lived in Lamberhurst. Hook Green and Lamberhurst are very close to Bayham Abbey, which is where, according to family lore, the plaque was found. The house at Bayham was founded when the monastic houses of Otham, Sussex, and Brockley, Kent, united to form one abbey on the border between the two counties.3 The abbey is thought to have had an entrance facing each county, but now only the ruins of the Kent gate survive. The plaque had therefore moved within a very limited geographic region, from local owner to local owner, giving greater credence to the assertion that it was retrieved from Bayham Abbey at some point before the nineteenth century. The back of the wooden mount also bears the text, ‘Said by Mr. Franks of the British Museum to be a Limoges Enamel of about the Date A.D. 1200’. Representing a transitionary moment in the production of vermiculé Limoges enamels, and an object of fascinating provenance, iconography and fine craftsmanship, the plaque was acquired by the
British Museum in 1985 and has remained largely unstudied ever since.4 Theophilus describes in his treatise the technique of champlevé enamelling:
incising copper alloy plate, melting glass tesserae, pouring molten pigment into sea shells, and flooding incised grooves with layers of colour with a goose feather.5 In the reliquary plaque from Bayham Abbey, made in Limoges between 1170 and 1190 and now owned by the British Museum, we are presented with an image of the Lord’s crucifixion executed in this technique Theophilus describes. This object occupies a lacuna in scholarship. A single catalogue entry has attempted to decipher the questions raised by this object’s appearance and provenance; however, no satisfactory assessment has been undertaken to explain its unprecedented iconography, its questioned origin in Limoges, nor offer a suggested function at Bayham Abbey.6 In this paper the author argues for the plaque’s iconographic relation to the Limoges workshops, and offers a possible explanation for its
A TWELFTH-CENTURY LIMOGES ENAMEL PLAQUE FROM BAYHAM ABBEY
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Fig. 1 Reliquary Plaque, c.1170-1190, copper alloy and enamel, Bayham Abbey (?), Limoges, Photo: ©The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved.
journey to, and suitability for, a crusader patron and the Premonstratensian Order at Bayham Abbey.
The plaque is formed of a large copper alloy plate from the side of a reliquary châsse. It is completed in champlevé enamel, in the typical palette of Limoges. Vermiculé engraving is incised into the background, which dates this object to the second half of the twelfth century when the ‘group’ of vermiculé Limoges enamels was made (Fig. 1).7 Large quantities of the enamel and gilding have been lost, suggesting the plaque spent a period of time in the ground before being retrieved. In the centre, the image of the crucifixion surrounded by the Virgin and Saint John the Evangelist conforms to traditional iconography, with roundels above containing personifications of sol and luna referring to the eclipse at the crucifixion (Fig. 2). The dying Christ appears to bear his own weight and is still imbued with life, although his head tilts to one side. On either side of this scene are pairs of soldiers in pseudo-architectural niches, facing Christ (Figs 3-6). They are depicted below an engraved representation of an eastern roofline evoking the architecture of the Holy Land, or the Heavenly Jerusalem, and are surrounded by ornamental columns with patterned shafts and capitals. They wear the contemporary twelfth- century garb of a short tunic, tights and long pointed shoes, with loose ‘Phrygian’- like caps. Each figure on the plaque has had a large rivet driven through its face, either leaving a hole or the remains of the rivet, flattened to the surface level. The plaque is surrounded by an azure blue enamelled border, containing an unusual pattern of squat cruciform motifs (Fig. 7). The plaque has been detached from a larger châsse, and formed one of the long rectangular fronts, typical of enamel caskets of this date.8 Around thirty nail holes can be seen around the edges of the plaque, indicative of its original fixings to a châsse, and also to its later display on a wooden mount.
ELEANOR WILSON
image
Fig. 2 Reliquary Plaque [detail], c.1170-1190, copper alloy and enamel, Bayham Abbey (?), Limoges, Photo: ©The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved.
Early Enamels: Between Limoges and England
The attribution of medieval enamel work to Limoges has been debated in modern scholarship. Opus lemovicense has been identified in treasuries indicating that, to the medieval eye, objects such as the Bayham Plaque were a trademark of Limousin artisans.9 The Abbey of Saint-Martial in Limoges has often been associated with enamel production.10 The workshops of enamel workers seem to have been clustered within the remit of Saint Martial, inside the enclosed wall surrounding the Abbey, the Church of St Michel-des-Lions and the Viscount’s Palace.11 The cloister of the Abbey is suspected to have housed lay enamel workshops.12 The abbey’s fame as a centre of manuscript production would have provided many subjects and iconographic models
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A TWELFTH-CENTURY LIMOGES ENAMEL PLAQUE FROM BAYHAM ABBEY
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Fig. 3 Reliquary Plaque [detail], c.1170-1190, copper alloy and enamel, Bayham Abbey (?), Limoges, Photo: ©The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved.
Fig. 4 Reliquary Plaque [detail], c.1170-1190, copper alloy and enamel, Bayham Abbey (?), Limoges, Photo:
©The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved.
for the craftsmen. The city was popular with pilgrims and crusaders during the twelfth century, and was home to many ecclesiastical establishments, thus providing a ready supply of clientele for the enamel workers of the city.13
A group of twelfth-century Limoges enamels, described as the ‘vermiculé works’, is seen to constitute the early stage of the Limoges workshop success (see Appendix I). The common features of these works are their restrained palette,
image
ELEANOR WILSON
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Fig. 5 Reliquary Plaque [detail], c.1170-1190, copper alloy and enamel, Bayham Abbey (?), Limoges, Photo:
©The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved.
Fig. 6 Reliquary Plaque [detail], c.1170-1190, copper alloy and enamel, Bayham Abbey (?), Limoges, Photo:
©The Trustees of the British Museum.
All rights reserved.
religious subject matter, similar small scale and portability, their Limoges origin, and their vermiculé ground with ornate ‘worm-like’ patterns. It is within this group that the author suggests the Bayham plaque belongs, and any origin other than Limoges should be discounted.
Although the Bayham plaque conforms in terms of date, palette, subject, scale, function and use of vermiculé, the presence of the rivets in the heads of the figures
A TWELFTH-CENTURY LIMOGES ENAMEL PLAQUE FROM BAYHAM ABBEY
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Fig. 7 Reliquary Plaque [detail], c.1170-1190, copper alloy and enamel, Bayham Abbey (?), Limoges, Photo: ©The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved.
indicates that this plaque was made on the transitionary cusp between styles in the Limousin workshops. It is likely that the rivets were put there to affix appliqué heads. This possibility is supported by the fact that the gilding on the faces of the sol and luna figures, and the soldier on the far right, has survived, indicating that at least these figures had always had coverings over them, and that the others had perhaps lost their covers earlier during the plaque’s time in the ground. Appliqué heads were ‘attached with a round-sectioned post that projects from their reverses
… inserted through a hole in the plaque and hammered over’, congruent with the British Museum plaque.14 However, around the edge of the holes and rivets there are the remains of the delicately engraved heads on the copper alloy, consistent with the surviving examples of the vermiculé group. The Bayham plaque shows the mixing of the early practice of the vermiculé group with incised faces, and the later practice of affixing appliqué heads, and thus occupies a position in the evolutionary moment of the technique in the Limoges workshops at the end of the twelfth century.
Limoges Enamel and England
During the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, Limoges was under English control.15 It was positioned on a major route for trade and pilgrimage, meaning that the transportation of the goods produced in the St-Martial workshops was easy.16 The movements of material via these trade routes, and pilgrims, thus makes it entirely possible that the Limoges plaque could have been at Bayham.
There are a number of instances where Limoges enamels have been unearthed, close to where the Bayham plaque is purported to have been found. In 1851, a copper enamel plate of a similar description to the Bayham plaque was retrieved from Rottingdean (Sussex).17 It was an element of a larger piece cast aside during the Reformation, and depicted the Crucifixion. At the church of Shipley in Sussex, formerly a Preceptory of the Knights Templar, there was a Limoges enamelled reliquary showing the Crucifixion with saints and angels, most likely donated by the Templars.18 Key evidence of the presence of material from Limoges in Kent are a number of fragmentary objects reported to the Portable Antiquities Scheme. An example of a copper alloy appliqué head, made in Limoges between the twelfth and thirteenth centuries was found on the Lydden and Temple Ewell Downs. The form, size and shape of the head is typical of the type of appliqué fixtures that would have been attached with rivets to the incised faces on reliquary châsse, such as that the
ELEANOR WILSON
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Fig. 8 A Fragment of copper-alloy Medieval Limoges Style Mount,
c.1100-1400, Find ID KENT-A0BC4A, Photo: Kent County Council.
Bayham Abbey plaque once belonged to (Fig. 8).19 These finds show that, although it cannot be conclusively proven that the Bayham plaque was recovered from Bayham Abbey, evidence of Limoges enamels was being retrieved from nearby sites at around the same time. As this type of material was widespread during the medieval period, the plaque’s movement from Limoges to Bayham, is all the more likely.
Although it is most likely goods such as the Bayham plaque were imported from Limoges, it should be acknowledged that it is possible that they were made in English enamel workshops. It is thought these English workshops are often overlooked in the attribution of medieval enamels in favour of a Limoges origin, and the handful of examples that have been given English origins are cited in attempts to contradict the apparently automatic attribution to Limoges.20 As there is a lack of documentation pertaining to the creation, purchase, patronage or shipment of Limoges work, it is difficult to conclusively dismiss English workshop involvement.21 It has been suggested that, as there was no copper mining in the region of Limoges, the thought that Limoges was the European centre of enamel works is incorrect.22 However, copper could easily have been imported from other sources, therefore this is not an adequate argument to rule out Limoges as the centre of medieval enamel production.23 It will now be proposed that the Bayham plaque did not come from an English workshop but was made in Limoges and imported to England via a different means, supported by evidence from the artistic milieu of twelfth- and thirteenth-century Limoges.
Iconographic Study: A Case for a Limoges Origin
The iconography of the Bayham plaque is unprecedented in the corpus of Limoges enamellists. The central form of the crucifixion, the Virgin, John the Evangelist, and the sol and luna personifications, with the dying Christ on the cross, marked
A TWELFTH-CENTURY LIMOGES ENAMEL PLAQUE FROM BAYHAM ABBEY
with the Christogram IHS//XPS, is a typical iconographic trope of Romanesque art. However, the incorporation of four indistinct unhaloed soldiers is entirely absent as an iconographic type in Crucifixion imagery. They cannot be viewed as the Roman centurions, for there is no evidence of their identity as Longinus and Stephaton, nor as the soldiers bartering for Christ’s robe. Similarly, the cruciform border on an azure background is unprecedented in the corpus of Limoges enamel. Therefore, this problematic iconography must instead be examined in the relation to earlier precedent and other contemporary media.
In the only short study made by Marie-Madeleine Gauthier of the Bayham plaque, the inclusion of the crucified Christ, flanked by unidentifiable soldiers has been suggested by Mme. Gauthier to have been derived from Byzantine models of Imperial portraiture.24 The Missorium of Theodosios (silver, 74cm diameter, Real Academia de la Historia Madrid, fourth-century), displays the emperor flanked by four armed figures, with large shields and spears. However, direct comparison with such material appears unhelpful, as these soldiers do not look like those of the Bayham plaque, and this is not an image of Christ enthroned, so an Imperial portraiture mode of depiction has no place in the moment of crucifixion.
The Scriptorium of Limoges
The most promising comparisons for the iconography of the Bayham plaque are three manuscripts from the scriptoria of Limoges, closely linked to the school of a single illuminator producing work from the Abbey of Saint-Martial, Limoges. The scriptorium of a monastery was often situated in the cloister with its better light conditions.25 As previously stated, it is believed that enamel workshops were operating within the walls around Saint-Martial, and perhaps even within its cloister.26 Thus, due to the proximity of the scriptorium and the enamel workshops in Limoges, comparison between manuscripts and the Bayham plaque can be used to firmly situate Limoges as its place of production.
The Second Bible of Saint-Martial (Bibliothéque Nationale de France, Paris,
MS. Latin 8)
The Second Bible of Saint-Martial is famed for its richly coloured ornate initials, typical of the Aquitaine style.27 Walter Cahn attributes the bible to the scriptorium of Saint-Martial, created at the beginning of the twelfth century.28 In a number of initials, a relationship with the Bayham plaque’s iconography can be drawn. A general point can be made regarding the idiosyncratic motif of the border surrounding the initials. Each initial is bordered by a frame of block colour, which is ornamented with a string of rivet-like dots (Fig. 9). The shape, number and dispersal of these dots recalls the structural nail holes in the Bayham plaque, and enamels more generally, suggesting a relationship between the scriptorium of Saint- Martial and an enamel workshop, perhaps on site. This relationship indicates that if this motif can be shared by the two media, other iconographic motifs could also be shared through contact between enamellers and illuminators. The relationship between the bible and the Bayham plaque is also seen in the composition of the initials. Like the plaque, figures are situated beneath architectural forms reminiscent of the heavenly Jerusalem, with arcades that recall the enamelled
ELEANOR WILSON
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Fig. 9 MS Latin 8, Bibliothèque Nationale de France, Twelfth Century, f.4v, Photo: ©Bibliothèque Nationale de France.
patterns of the columns. In the microarchitecture, we see analogous exoticized domes, with similar brickwork interspersing the buildings, and turrets reminiscent of the Holy Sepulchre. Thus, we can see mutual iconographic motifs in the bible and the Bayham Abbey plaque, suggesting a possible relationship.
The Sacramentary of Saint-Etienne (Bibliothéque Nationale de France, Paris,
MS Latin 9438)
This relationship is supported by the similar affiliation between the Bayham plaque, and another Limoges manuscript, the Sacramentary of Saint-Etienne, made for the Cathedral of Saint-Etienne in Limoges. Although it is not known
A TWELFTH-CENTURY LIMOGES ENAMEL PLAQUE FROM BAYHAM ABBEY
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Fig. 10 The Sacramentary of Saint-Etienne, MS Latin 9438, Bibliothèque Nationale de France, Twelfth Century, f.46v, Photo: ©Bibliothèque Nationale de France.
in which Limoges scriptorium the artist of this manuscript resided, the brightly coloured intricate ornamentation resembles the Second Bible of Saint-Martial, and the illuminators of both were operating in the same milieu.29 There are two key features of the sacramentary that bear a resemblance to the Bayham plaque. Firstly, as in the Second Bible of Saint-Martial, the compositional technique of placing figures within a micro-architectural space, with arcades, columns and domed structures above that recall the architecture of the Holy Land, is very similar to that of the Bayham plaque. For example, the Last Supper and the Washing of the Feet, appear within compositional restraints of microarchitecture that recalls that of the upper register of the Bayham plaque (Fig. 10). Folio 59r, depicting
ELEANOR WILSON
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Fig. 11 The Sacramentary of Saint-Etienne, MS Latin 9438, Bibliothèque Nationale de France, Twelfth Century, f.59r, Photo: ©Bibliothèque Nationale de France.
the Crucifixion, adopts the same typical composition of the central Crucifixion in the Bayham plaque. The Saint-Etienne crucifixion also includes the peculiarity of the inclusion of soldiers other than Longinus and Stephaton, as in the Bayham plaque (Fig. 11). In the lower register of the folio appear two military figures, with covered heads, standing to attention and holding shields. Like the soldiers of the Bayham plaque, these soldiers do not belong in this scriptural moment: they are not Longinus or Stephaton, nor are they the centurions bartering with Christ’s robe. They appear of a greater similarity, perhaps, to the moment of Pilate’s guard at the tomb. Regardless of the soldier’s identity in either the Bayham plaque or
A TWELFTH-CENTURY LIMOGES ENAMEL PLAQUE FROM BAYHAM ABBEY
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Fig. 12 The Mazarine Bible, MS 1, Bibliothèque Mazarine, Twelfth Century, f.112r, Photo: Bibliothèque virtuelle des manuscrits médiévaux, CC by 3.0.
the Saint-Etienne Sacramentary, there is a convincing iconographic link between the micro-architecture, and the inclusion of unexplained soldiers, perhaps evoking Pilate’s guard. This strongly suggests a relationship between the Sacramentary and the Bayham plaque thus supporting the attribution of the plaque to the Limoges enamel workshops.
The Mazarine Bible (Bibliothèque Mazarine, Paris, MS. 1 and 2)
The Bible of the Bibliothèque Mazarine was created in the twelfth century. Yolanta Zaluska places the Mazarine Bible in the orbit of the painter of the Sacramentary of Saint-Etienne.30 Thus a web of connection between the three manuscripts cited here is indicative of an artistic milieu in Limoges where ideas, iconographies and stylistic qualities were exchanged. This bible bears the clearest visual comparison with the Bayham plaque. The figures of the soldiers on the Bayham plaque should be compared with similarly garbed figures in the Mazarine Bible (Fig. 12). In folio 112r, the soldier fights a fictive beast, clutching a shield and spear, dressed in a similar manner to the soldiers of the plaque. The shoes, Phrygian cap, tights and tunic are very similar to those of the soldiers in the plaque. The structure of the figure, the delineation of the drapery, and the suggestion of movement by placing the figure’s apparent weight on the back foot, all suggest a relationship between the artist of the Bible and that of the Bayham plaque. Comparable to the Second Bible of Saint-Martial, and the Sacramentary of Saint-Etienne, the Mazarine Bible
ELEANOR WILSON
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Fig. 13 The Mazarine Bible, MS 1, Bibliothèque Mazarine, Twelfth Century, f.155v, Photo: Bibliothèque virtuelle des manuscrits médiévaux, CC by 3.0.
includes micro-architectural motifs that recall those of the Bayham plaque. The arcade ornamentation of the calendar on folio 155v is closely related to that of the plaque (Fig. 13). The diagonal and wave-like patterns in a limited palette, although not identical to the plaque, are very similar. The key link between the artist of the Mazarine Bible and that of the Bayham plaque is the idiosyncratic use of the cruciform decorative motif. The Bayham plaque’s cruciform border is unprecedented in any Limoges enamel. However, the Mazarine Bible is adorned with a huge number of decorative cruciform motifs, identical to those of the plaque. We see a seemingly experimental application of these crosses using gold
A TWELFTH-CENTURY LIMOGES ENAMEL PLAQUE FROM BAYHAM ABBEY
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Fig. 14 The Mazarine Bible, MS 2, Bibliothèque Mazarine, Twelfth Century, f.47r, Photo: Bibliothèque virtuelle des manuscrits médiévaux, Photo: CC by 3.0.
leaf throughout the Mazarine Bible, suggesting the artist desired to play with the motif as an ornamental pattern (Fig. 14).
Through the comparisons with the manuscripts above, which have emerged from an epicentre of influence of a monk at the scriptorium of Saint-Martial, the iconographic trail from the Bayham plaque leads back to a Limoges atelier, within the Chateau of Saint-Martial. It is therefore entirely possible that an artist, whether the illuminator of the Mazarine Bible himself or someone working in the sphere of the creators of these three manuscripts from twelfth-century Limoges, was responsible for the programming of the Bayham plaque, or created it himself.
A Proposed Provenance: Bayham Abbey and the Premonstratensians
As the plaque’s production can now be securely attributed to Limoges, the question is now: if the Bayham provenance is correct, why and how did it arrive there? While Limoges enamels were widely traded and gifted throughout Europe at this date, there is little documentary evidence to help us trace them. Here, a case will be made through contextual analysis, for the situation of the plaque at Bayham Abbey in the thirteenth century, and a possible course of its journey and why it was suited for this monastic foundation.
ELEANOR WILSON
Between 1199 and 1208, the Premonstratensian monks of Otham, Sussex, and Brockley, Kent, migrated to Bayham, where the Crusader, Robert de Turnham, was establishing an Abbey to be dedicated to the Virgin.31 Robert was in Poitou on King Richard’s business between 1201 and 1205, meaning that the Abbey was most likely founded before this, in 1200.32 It is possible that Robert bought the châsse that the Bayham plaque was attached to when in Aquitaine at the beginning of the century, to give to his new abbey, perhaps containing a relic acquired during his time in the Holy Land.33 Unfortunately, with no relic list surviving at Bayham, unlike larger establishments, it must be argued on speculation that the Bayham plaque belonged to a True Cross reliquary.34 Although it is typical that acquisition of Passion relics was recorded by institutions, it should be noted that there must have been numerous relics of the True Cross that we have no account for, suggested by such surviving artefacts as the British Museum pendant reliquary of the True Cross (c.1200, Scotland, British Museum).35
image
The militarised iconography of the Bayham plaque, with prominent knights in contemporary garb, could have an appropriateness for a Crusader patron of the châsse. The iconographic programme creates a focus on the guarding of Christ, and the programmer appears to intentionally muddy our understanding as to whether they are Roman centurions or twelfth-century crusaders through their garb and unclear identity within the narrative of the Passion. Thus, a châsse including the Bayham plaque would be fitting for the gift of a twelfth-century knight on return from the Holy Land with a relic of the True Cross. The microarchitectural detail in the top register of the Bayham plaque makes this association stronger, through its evocation of Jerusalem.36 This is further evoked by the presence of embryonic heraldry on the shields of the four soldiers on the plaque. While this heraldry is not paralleled in other Limoges enamels of this date, a group of Limoges-enamelled Crusader sword pommels offers an iconographic equivalent. Discovered in the Holy Land, the visual similarity between the embryonic heraldry on the sword pommels, and those of the soldier’s shields on the plaque is compelling (Fig. 15).37
Fig. 15 Crusader Sword Pommel, Twelfth to Thirteenth Century, France, Copper Alloy and Enamel, Lent by Laird and Kathleen Landmann, 2011 (L.2011.47),
Photo: © The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.
A TWELFTH-CENTURY LIMOGES ENAMEL PLAQUE FROM BAYHAM ABBEY
If these are compared to the shields of the soldiers of the plaque, the similarity in motif is clear. To a twelfth- or thirteenth-century viewer, more familiar with the everyday sight of Crusaders and their associated visual symbols, this connotation between the knights of the plaque and the men of Christendom in the Holy Land would be all the stronger.
Although no physical evidence of Robert’s remains have been found at Bayham, and there is no archival source for the location of his burial, it should be assumed he was interred there as it was usual for the founder’s final resting place to be in their Abbey.38 Evidence comes down to us that his relatives, and later patrons of Bayham, the Sackville family, had tombs at the Abbey. This could suggest that this was a familial burial place, that perhaps began when Robert de Turnham’s remains were interred at Bayham, and his chantry masses held there.39 The Premonstratensians were renowned in England for ‘the frequency with which the founder [patron] arranged for his [chantry] masses to be said by canon-priests’.40 In Charter VIII of Bayham Abbey, Robert de Turnham declares that his lands, possessions and wealth are left to the abbey in perpetuity for the spiritual welfare of himself, and his descendants.41 Similarly, in Charter IX, he states that ‘things and possessions and tenements’ are to be held by the Abbey beyond his death, suggesting that alongside land and money, he also donated material objects, offering the tantalising thought that the plaque may have been one of such ‘things’ (see Appendix II). Bayham is thought to have had four chapels on the east side of its original thirteenth-century transepts, and it is likely that one of these was a burial chapel for Robert de Turnham, as he died in 1211 (Fig. 16).42 The east end was lengthened at the end of the thirteenth century and, unusually for a small abbey, the original transepts were kept rather than being destroyed along with the east end. As the quire and east end were being rebuilt within living memory of the founder’s death, it may be that these original transepts were preserved as they contained Robert’s burial chapel. If indeed, it could be proved through excavation or undiscovered archival evidence that Robert de Turnham was buried at Bayham, as would be usual for the founder of an institution, the reliquary châsse from which the Bayham plaque derives may well have been gifted by Robert for the altar of his chapel, or interred along with his body.
Bayham Abbey, as a Premonstratensian House, had a particular devotion to the True Cross, and had strong associations with the Crusades. The order adopted the lay devotional text of the Office of the Holy Cross, alongside the Premonstratensian Office of the Blessed Virgin, making a True Cross reliquary entirely appropriate.43 From its foundation, the Order was deeply connected to the Crusading cause, being one of the first orders to have a Monastery in the Holy Land, which is perhaps why they appealed to the benefaction of infamous crusader Robert de Turnham.44 The Premonstratensians modelled themselves on the church of the Holy Sepulchre, seen in the similarities between the ordinal of the Premonstratensians and the ordinal of the Holy Sepulchre from 1111.45 The Premonstratensian liturgy for during Holy Week mimicked that carried out at the Holy Sepulchre.46 The celebration of the True Cross was key in the celebrations of Easter; the priest would kiss both the altar and the cross on the Missal.47 In Premonstratensian twelfth-century practice, the Mass of the Holy Cross was used as the weekly Friday conventual Mass.48 Therefore, in light of the established devotion to the Holy Cross that typified the
ELEANOR WILSON
image
Fig. 16. Plan of Bayham Abbey, Photo: S.E. Rigold, Bayham Abbey [London: Department of the Environment, 1974].
Premonstratensians at Bayham and more broadly, the Bayham plaque would have been an ideal ornament for a châsse at that Abbey. Without knowledge of the dedication of the altars in the original first transept chapels, it is difficult to suggest the use of this reliquary. However, just as a case has been made for Robert’s burial chapel, this châsse could equally have been intended for a chapel dedicated to the True Cross, to be used by the Premonstratensians during their Friday conventual mass and Easter week.
Conclusions
It is has been suggested that the structural shape of reliquary châsses was intended
A TWELFTH-CENTURY LIMOGES ENAMEL PLAQUE FROM BAYHAM ABBEY
to symbolise a tomb.49 Within the châsse, to which the plaque was attached, was likely a Passion relic brought back by Robert de Turnham from the Holy Land, transforming this casket into a pseudo-Holy Sepulchre. Thus, if the Bayham plaque was indeed associated with the tomb of crusader Robert de Turnham in the Abbey’s first transepts, the martial iconography relating to the guarding of Christ is singularly pertinent to the medieval audience. The soldiers depicted on the plaque stand guard over Christ’s dying form, just as the tomb effigy of Robert de Turnham, would stand guard over the reliquary châsse-cum-tomb, perpetually protecting the Passion relic within.
The Abbey of Bayham was dissolved in May of 1525.50 No record or inventory survives of the contents of the Abbey before the dissolution. Perhaps the reliquary châsse was forgotten by Wolsey’s men when they collected the Abbey’s wealth, or perhaps it had already been interred by this date. More study must be undertaken in relation to Bayham’s documentary records and archaeological findings. Without the confirmed knowledge of the Abbey’s chapel’s dedications, and Robert de Turnham’s final resting place, evidence for the origin and import of the Bayham plaque can only be circumstantial. And many questions remain unanswered. What happened to the appliqué heads? What was the iconography of the rest of the châsse? What was the relic that it held? How did a plaque with iconography so closely linked to a scriptorium in Limoges, potentially end up in the earth beneath a monastic ruin on the county line between Kent and Sussex? What is now known, however, is that the Bayham plaque can now be closely linked to the twelfth- century manuscript production in the city of Limoges and that a conjectural case can be made that this plaque belonged to a châsse that found its way to England from Limoges.
ELEANOR WILSON
APPENDIX I
The Group of Early Limoges Vermiculé Enamels as described
by Mme. Marie-Madeleine Gauthier
Object
Date
Size (cm)
Location
Bayham Plaque
c.1170-90
14.4 x 28.4 x 0.3
British Museum
Châsse: The Crucifixion
and Christ in Majesty
c.1190
26 x 29 x 11.5
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
Châsse: The Crucifixion
and Christ in Majesty
c.1180-90
26.2 x 30.2 x
11.6
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
Châsse of Saint Stephen
c.1160-70
25.4 x 28.8 x
11.9
Church of Saint-Pardoux, Gimel-les-Cascades (Correze)
Châsse of Saint Martial
c.1165-75
12.5 x 16.5 x 6.7
Musée du Louvre, Paris
Book Cover Plaques: Crucifixion and Christ in Majesty
c.1170- 1185
21 x 13.5 x 0.3
Musée des Beaux-Arts, Lyons
Plaque: The Visitation (from a larger composition)
c.1170-80
9 x 13.9
Musée Municipale de l’Évêché, Limoges
Châsse of Saint Valerie
c.1175-85
23.2 x 28 x 11.5
State Hermitage Museum, Saint Petersburg
Châsse of Saint Peter
c.1175-85
19 x 26.5 x 11.5
Church of Saint-Anne, Apt
Châsse with the Adoration of the Magi
c.1175
18.6 x 26.1 x
11.5
National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C
Book-Cover Plaque:
Crucifixion
c.1180-90
23.5 x 14.1
Musée du Louvre, Paris
Châsse: Christ in Majesty, the Lamb of God
c.1180-90
22 x 23.5 x 10.7
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
Châsse: Christ in Majesty
c.1185-95
14.8 x 16 x 7.8
Musée du Louvre
A TWELFTH-CENTURY LIMOGES ENAMEL PLAQUE FROM BAYHAM ABBEY
APPENDIX II
Translations from the transcriptions of two charters relating to Robert de Turnham, from Cotton Otho A. ii transcribed in William Dugdale, Monasticon Anglicanum, Vol. 6, Part 2 (London: Bohn, 1846), pp. 910-915.
[Translated with the assistance of Malcolm Wilson, January 2020]
Number IX, Alia Carta Præfati Roberti de Turneham
Robert of Turnham, salvation in the Lord to all the sons of the Holy Mother Church, to whom this present charter is sent. Know all of you that I, in view of divine love, have conceded and confirmed this present charter to the abbot and canons of Otteham, who, because of their immense and unbearable hardship in Otteham, transferred the abbatial seat of Otteham to the abbey of Bayham, which is called Beaulieu. Wherefore I want the aforesaid abbot and canons of Otteham and Beaulieu, and their successors, to have and to hold all things and possessions and tenements, which I and others have contributed to the same church of Bayham, well and in peace, freely and peacefully, without any impediment or vexation. And I have confirmed with this charter and my seal, my concession in all things, in all the above mentioned, firmly and stably, in perpetuity. Witnessed these, etc.
bibliography
Andrault-Schmitt, C., 2006, Saint-Martial de Limoges: Ambition Politique et Production Culturelle (Xe-XIIIe siècles) (Limoges: Presses Universitaires de Limoges et du Limousin).
Barrière, B., 1995, Splendeurs de St-Martial de Limoges au temps d’Adémar de Chabannes
(Limoges: Musée municipal de l’évêché).
Borenius, T., ed., 1926,‘English Medieval Enamels,’ in University College London
Monographs of English Medieval Art (London: Pantheon).
Cahn, W., 1996, Romanesque Manuscripts: The Twelfth Century (London: Harvey Miller).
Cartwright, E., 1830, The Parochial Topography of the Rape of Bramber: Vol II, Part II
(London: J.B. Nichols & Son).
Colvin, H.M., 1951, The White Canons in England (Oxford: Clarendon Press). Cowdrey, H.E.J., 2003, Popes, Monks and Crusaders (London: The Hambledon Press).
Dodwe, C.R., 1993, The Pictorial Arts of the West, 800-1200: Vol. 27 (New Haven: Yale University Press).
Dugdale, William, 1846, Monasticon Anglicanum, Vol. 6, Part 2 (London: Bohn).
Elvins, M., 1981, Bayham Abbey 1182-1982: Its Founder and his Family (Hove: Chichester Diocesan Fund and Board of Finance).
Etlin R., ed., 2015, History of Religious Architecture of the World (New York and CUP). Gauthier, M.M., 1961, ‘Une plaque de châsse émaillée à fond vermiculé à Oxford La
Crucifixion et quatre soldats’, Bulletin de la Sociétè Archéologique & Historique du Limousin, Vol. 88, pp. 90-103.
Gauthier, M.M., trans. J.A. Underwood, 1983, Highways of the Faith: Relics and Reliquaries from Jerusalem to Compostela (New York: The Wellfleet Press).
Gauthier M.M. and G. François, trans. and ed. Neil Stratford, 1981, Medieval Enamels:
Masterpieces from the Keir Collection (London: British Museum Press).
Gauthier, M.M. and G. François, 1987, Emaux Méridionaux: Catalogue International de L’Œuvre de Limoges, par, Tome I, L’Époque Romane (Paris: Éditions du Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique).
ELEANOR WILSON
Gribbin, J.A., 2001, The Premonstratensians in Late Medieval England (Woodbridge: The Boydell Press).
Hussey, A., 1852, ‘Notice of an Ancient Engraved Copper Formerly Enamelled, Lately Discovered at Rottingdean,’ Sussex Archaeological Collections, Vol. 5, 105-110.
La Rocca, D.J., 2011, ‘Sword and Dagger Pommels Associated with the Crusades: Part I,’
Metropolitan Museum Journal, Vol. 46: 1, pp. 133-144.
Munns, J., ed., 2015, The Crusades and Visual Culture (Farnham: Ashgate).
Munns, J., 2016, Cross and Culture in Anglo-Norman England: Theology, Imagery,
Devotion (Woodbridge: The Boydell Press).
O’Neill, J.P., ed., 1995/6, Enamels of Limoges 1100-1350, Exhibition Catalogue, Musée du Louvre and Metropolitan Museum of Art (Paris and USA).
O’Sullivan, D., 2006, ‘The ‘Little Dissolution’ of the 1520s’, Post-Medieval Archaeology,
Vol. 40: 2, pp. 227-258.
Petit, F., trans. V. Szczurek, 1947, Spirituality of the Premonstratensians: The Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries (Kentucky: Cistercian Publications).
Pevsner, N. and I. Nairn, 2001, Sussex (London: Penguin).
Stratford, N., 1993, Catalogue of Medieval Enamels in the British Museum: Northern Romanesque Enamel, Volume Two (London: British Museum Press).
Theophilus, trans. J. G. Hawthorne and C. S. Smith, 1979, On Divers Arts: The Foremost Medieval treatise on Painting, Glassmaking and Metalwork (New York: Dover Publications Inc.).
Zaluska, Y., 1979, ‘La Bible Limousine de la Bibliotheque Mazarine a Paris’, Le Limousin Études Archéologique, Archéologiques et Histoire de l’Art Paris, pp. 69-98.
endnotes
Theophilus, Trans. J. G. Hawthorne and C. S. Smith, On Divers Arts: The Foremost Medieval treatise on Painting, Glassmaking and Metalwork (New York: Dover Publications Inc. 1979), pp. 79-80.
The following information was provided by the unpublished British Museum object file, detailing the acquisition information compiled by Neil Stratford, and correspondence with Mme. Marie-Madeleine Gauthier.
H.M. Colvin, The White Canons in England (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1951), p. 112.
Gauthier and François, Emaux Méridionaux, p. 179.
Theophilus, On Divers Arts, pp. 126-7.
Marie-Madeleine Gauthier and Geneviève François, Emaux Méridionaux: Catalogue International de L’Œuvre de Limoges, par, Tome I, L’Époque Romane (Paris: Éditions du Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, 1987), p. 179.
Marie-Madeleine Gauthier, ‘Une plaque de châsse émaillée à fond vermiculé à Oxford La Crucifixion et quatre soldats’, Bulletin de la Sociétè Archéologique & Historique du Limousin, Vol. 88 (1961), p. 103.
Gauthier and François, Emaux Méridionaux, p. 179.
Barbara Drake Boehm, ‘Opus lemovicense: A Taste for and Diffusion of Limoges Enamels’, in John P. O’Neill, ed., Enamels of Limoges 1100-1350, Exhibition Catalogue, Musée du Louvre and Metropolitan Museum of Art (Paris and USA 1995-1996), p. 34.
Claude Andrault-Schmitt, Saint-Martial de Limoges: Ambition Politique et Production Culturelle (Xe-XIIIe siècles) (Limoges: Presses Universitaires de Limoges et du Limousin, 2006), p. 47.
Andrault-Schmitt, Saint-Martial de Limoges, p. 53.
Bernadette Barrière, ‘The Limousin and Limoges in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries’ in O’Neill, ed., Enamels of Limoges 1100-1350, p. 25.
Ibid., p. 26.
A TWELFTH-CENTURY LIMOGES ENAMEL PLAQUE FROM BAYHAM ABBEY
O’Neill, ed., Enamels of Limoges 1100-1350, p. 53.
Barrière, ‘The Limousin and Limoges in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries’, pp. 26-27.
Ibid., p. 24.
Reverend Arthur Hussey, ‘Notice of An Ancient Engraved Copper Formerly Enamelled, Lately Discovered at Rottingdean,’ Sussex Archaeological Collections, Vol. 5 (1852), 105.
Edmund Cartwright, The Parochial Topography of the Rape of Bramber: Vol II, Part II (London: J.B. Nichols & Son, 1830), p. 302.
Portable Antiquities Scheme Find ID - KENT-A0BC4A.
For further information read: Tancred Borenius ed., ‘English Medieval Enamels,’ in University College London Monographs of English Medieval Art (London: Pantheon, 1926); Marie-Madeleine Gauthier and Geneviève François, trans. and ed. Neil Stratford, Medieval Enamels: Masterpieces from the Keir Collection (London: British Museum Press, 1981); Neil Stratford, Catalogue of Medieval Enamels in the British Museum: Northern Romanesque Enamel, Volume Two (London: British Museum Press, 1993); ‘An Early Record at Dijon of the Export of Becket’s Relics’, in H.E.J. Cowdrey, Popes, Monks and Crusaders (London: The Hambledon Press, 2003).
Barrière, ‘The Limousin and Limoges in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries’, p. 22.
Ibid., p. 26.
Isabelle Biron, Pete Dandridge and Mark T. Wypyski, ‘Techniques and Material in Limoges Enamels’, in O’Neill, ed., Enamels of Limoges 1100-1350, p. 49.
Gauthier and François, Emaux Méridionaux, p. 179.
Bernadette Barrière, Splendeurs de St-Martial de Limoges au temps d’Adémar de Chabannes
(Limoges: Musée municipal de l’évêché, 1995), p. 95.
Barrière, ‘The Limousin and Limoges in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries’, p. 25.
Charles Reginald Dodwe, The Pictorial Arts of the West, 800-1200: Vol. 27 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1993), p. 223.
Walter Cahn, Romanesque Manuscripts: The Twelfth Century (London: Harvey Miller, 1996),
p. 47.
Dodwe, The Pictorial Arts, p. 224.
Yolanta Zaluska, 1979, ‘La Bible Limousine de la Bibliotheque Mazarine a Paris’, Le Limousin Études Archéologique, Archéologiques et Histoire de l’Art Paris, pp.70-71.
Colvin, The White Canons, p. 112.
Ibid., p. 112.
John Munns, ‘The Vision of the Cross and the Crusades in England before 1189’, in The
Crusades and Visual Culture (Farnham: Ashgate, 2015), p. 58.
John Munns, 2016, Cross and Culture in Anglo-Norman England: Theology, Imagery, Devotion
(Woodbridge: The Boydell Press), p. 247.
Munns, ‘The Vision of the Cross’, p. 62.
Richard Etlin, ed., 2015, History of Religious Architecture of the World, (New York and CUP), p. 1.
Donald J. La Rocca, 2011, ‘Sword and Dagger Pommels Associated with the Crusades: Part I,’
Metropolitan Museum Journal, Vol. 46:1, p. 134.
Mark Elvins, Bayham Abbey 1182-1982: Its Founder and his Family (Hove: Chichester Diocesan Fund and Board of Finance, 1981), p. 3.
Ibid., p. 3.
Colvin, The White Canons, p. 272
William Dugdale, 1846, Monasticon Anglicanum Volume 6 Part 2, Charter VIII (London:
Bohn).
Nikolaus Pevsner and Ian Nairn, 2001, Sussex (London: Penguin), p. 410.
Joseph A. Gribbin, 2001, The Premonstratensians in Late Medieval England (Woodbridge: The Boydell Press), p. 116.
François Petit, tans. Victor Szczurek, 1947, Spirituality of the Premonstratensians: The Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries (Kentucky: Cistercian Publications), p. 90.
ELEANOR WILSON
Petit, tans. Szczurek, Spirituality of the Premonstratensians, p. 99.
Ibid., p. 99.
Ibid., p. 100.
Ibid., p. 100.
Marie-Madeleine Gauthier, trans. J.A. Underwood, 1983, Highways of the Faith: Relics and Reliquaries from Jerusalem to Compostela (New York: The Wellfleet Press, p. 12.
Deirdre O’Sullivan, 2006, ‘The ‘Little Dissolution’ of the 1520s’, Post-Medieval Archaeology,
Vol. 40:2, p. 233.
SCULPTURE AT THE GREEN COURT GATEWAY OF CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL PRIORY
rita wood
The structure is contemporary with the Aula Nova and the famous staircase: these three units are all shown on the waterworks map and thought to date from the time of Prior Wibert (c.1152-1167). This complex was built in a novel form to cope with the legal business of the priory. However, a gate on this site had previously existed as this was already the main entrance to the whole precinct and the cathedral. The surviving legible sculpture in its outer arches is discussed here as having motifs relevant to all those entering the priory from the city, not just litigants. In particular, the six medallions not previously identified are suggested to illustrate the after-life of the blessed in paradise, and this choice of subject can be traced to the idea of ‘law’ as understood by monks.
The gateway has been discussed by Peter Fergusson quite recently in relation to the legal complex which was built at the same time,1 and this article seeks only to add detail to a minor part of his work. The legal complex comprised a nine bay, two-storey hall with exterior staircase, which was attached at its southern end to a three-storey gateway giving access from the city into the curia or working heart of the cathedral priory; these buildings are thought to have been constructed under Prior Wibert, in post c.1152 to 1167. The new buildings were to provide for the efficient legal administration of the priory’s widespread possessions, and the bounds of the precinct were extended to the north in order to make room for them. The famous waterworks plan shows this development as a gatehouse with turret and, alongside that, the aula nova, shortened in this view, but well decorated and with the external staircase which still survives.2 The new hall included chambers for hearing cases, lodging for visiting lords, servants and others, and a prison; new buildings to service these functions, such as stables and kitchens, for example, must also have existed in this area.
Unlike the aula nova, the gatehouse – or porta curia on the waterworks plan – was not a novel concept, but would have succeeded an earlier gate on much the same site. This position, in the north-west quarter of the precinct, had been the main entrance into the priory for nearly a century, with a few less important gates elsewhere giving access, for example, to the lay and monastic cemeteries on the south side of the cathedral,3 and it remained the main entrance until the Christchurch gate was added 1502-20. The Green Court gateway took everything – carts, deliveries of food or stone, visitors on horseback and on foot. On one side of
RITA WOOD
image
Fig. 1 View of Green Court gateway. (Photo taken 2010, © Canterbury Archaeological Trust, reproduced with permission.)
the lane to the gate were facilities for monastic charity in the almonry, on the other, the walls and grounds of the archbishop’s palace; inside the gate around the court were lodgings for various grades of guests, and workshops, kitchens, brewhouses, stables and stores serving the monastic community.
The Green Court gateway is wide and high (Fig. 1), and would have been especially impressive with its upper storeys complete, and before the insertion of the late fourteenth-century cross-wall with its two lesser openings, also before the rise in ground level consequent on changes in the road surface which must have reduced the height by a foot or more to hide the plinth and bases. The gate- hall is impressively deep too; it included gate-keeper’s quarters and a door to the prison associated with the law business. Both faces of the gateway have carved decoration, but the outer, west, face is most developed, with decorated windows and oculi as well as the large arch of two orders. Like other sculpture under Prior Wibert,4 the work is highly skilled, and even florid.
The capitals are damaged and too worn to discuss at length, though they seem to have been of conventional types: on the left are a coiled serpent, a demon holding two lions by the neck, and a wyvern with a foliate tail biting on other foliage; on the right, a mask emitting foliage, and a decorated scallop capital. Both orders of the great archway have a heavy roll moulding set in a plain and square arch: the rolls are fully carved with regular foliage motifs. On the larger roll of the second order there are, however, eight varied medallions irregularly interspersed between the foliage motifs, and it is on these medallions that this paper will focus (see Fig. 2a-h). In this
SCULPTURE AT THE GREEN COURT GATEWAY OF CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL PRIORY
second order, each single motif is formed of at least two stones, and these were so finely fitted that the joint is hardly detectable even now. Perhaps, therefore, the irregularity of the distribution of the medallions was not due to carelessness or lack of inspiration but was a device to draw attention to these figures among the regular foliage. The carvings are mostly well-preserved and their subjects are unusual. For the purposes of the present paper, the medallions are numbered clockwise 1 to 8.
Peter Fergusson was able to show with great exactitude that a manuscript of the Decretum of Gratian, a basic legal text, would have been the source for medallions 6 and 8 (Figs 2f and 2h): their subjects are the summoning of litigants by a trumpeter in a tower, and the laws proscribing marriage between close relations.5 However, suggestions that medallions 1 and 2 might depict King David are rather forced.6 The man playing an instrument (Fig. 2a) is unlikely to represent King David – he has no crown and he is playing a bowed instrument. Even if there are images of David without a crown, he should be playing something like a harp.7 Medallion 2, showing a man dancing or leaping (Fig. 2b), similarly is at variance with the text about David dancing before the Ark of God, for that tells us that he was ‘girded with a linen ephod’ and that he disgusted his wife by uncovering himself as he danced.8 An ephod is not a well-understood garment, but it was probably for the upper body: in the medallion, the man leaping or dancing is enveloped by a long- sleeved, full-length tunic that leaves only his hands and feet visible. It is almost as though these two carvings went out of their way to avoid specifying David, although playing and dancing was their theme. The initial to Psalm 1 often depicts King David and his musicians, but Fergusson had to admit that the subjects of medallions 3 and 5 (Figs 2c and 2e) are hard to find there, or anywhere.9
To advance this problem of identification, it is helpful to return to the busy public context of the carvings. The gateway was contemporary with the new legal facility, and structurally continuous with it, but its primary function was as the principal entrance to the whole monastic precinct and the cathedral. When the sculptural motifs came to be chosen, a wider audience, beyond those on legal business, would have been considered. The gateway was the main entrance from the city to the precinct and, in that sense, it resembles a doorway into a church; its decoration would have been considered not just as a show of splendour, but as a medium to advance the faith. Prior Wibert or someone on his staff had only to look around them for themes and models to fulfil such a purpose: some of the imagery on the gateway, like the foliage motifs and the particular legal imagery identified by Fergusson, would very likely have been copied from the priory’s own documents as he suggests,10 and at least one capital resembled earlier sculpture in the crypt.11 Those physical objects were convenient and obvious sources for what might be put on the gateway, but the characteristic thought processes of monks were much more subtle, and introspective.
The two medallions explained by Fergusson clearly relate to the new legal buildings, so perhaps the theme for the gate was to be ‘the law’, how might that concept have resonated with a monk?12 The opus dei, the daily round of services known by heart with words largely from the bible, would automatically be accompanied by echoes in further texts, and more that came in meditation; these services would be a likely source. The word ‘law’ would undoubtedly bring to mind the words of Psalm 1, which celebrates God as the source of law and employs
RITA WOOD
a image image b
c image image d
e image image f
g image image h
SCULPTURE AT THE GREEN COURT GATEWAY OF CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL PRIORY
several legal metaphors. This first psalm sets the scene for the whole collection of 150 psalms because it states the basic importance of choosing the right path through life: the path to God, not via peccatorum, the way of sinners. Psalm 119, the longest psalm, was similarly influential in forming a monk’s conception of ‘law’: this psalm was repeated daily, section by section in the liturgical hours. Both these prominent psalms include the idea of a metaphorical path through life, which could suitably point up the spiritual significance of the actual gateway. Psalm 119 talks about walking in a ‘way’ or road ‘of the law of the Lord’, and the people walking it – the psalmist, the young man, the sojourner on earth, the companion of all who fear God (opposed by princes, the insolent, the godless, oppressors). Almost every verse of 176 verses is of like form, stressing the importance of God’s law, word, statutes, commandments, ordinances, precepts, etc., etc.13 Its formal repetition is a contrast to the vigorous, rhetorical manner of the six verses of Psalm 1, but it equally shaped the idea of ‘the law’ or lege Domini as it was understood by monks. It is suggested that the six medallions remaining unsolved on the arch were inspired by the text of Psalm 1. In particular, that the medallions picture those ‘blessed’ who have not walked in the way of sinners (v. 1). The beatus vir delights ‘in the law of the Lord’, and on his law he meditates day and night’ (v. 2), but the wicked are like the chaff swept away and burnt at harvest-time (v. 4), they will ‘not stand in the judgment’, but perish (vs 5, 6). For the Canterbury monks, it was the general resurrection at the end of time and the Last Judgment that would have come to mind in hearing the words ‘harvest’ and ‘judgment’; the words were transformed by the correspondences among biblical texts.14 It is suggested that the six medallions depict quite literally the rejoicing in Heaven of those who loved ‘the law of the Lord’ in this life; they have passed safely through Judgment and are rewarded with life after death. The foliage motifs throughout the rest of the two orders might link to v. 3, which likens the righteous man to a fruitful tree flourishing by streams of living water – a picture of Paradise. Verse 6, with its comparison of the paths of the righteous and the wicked, might have been thought of as relevant to those coming through the gate on legal business, but litigants were
a minority of those who came there: all were called to avoid the path of sinners.
Monastics saw the Old Testament as a prefiguration of the New, and the New Testament as the completion of the Old.15 Thus, if Psalm 1 or its initial had brought to mind the author David, even he could be superseded by a perfected model or antitype derived from the New Testament. The Old Testament describes the scene when King David and the men of Israel began to bring the Ark of God towards
Fig. 2 (opposite) The eight medallions of the Green Court gateway (photos by author):
a Medallion 1, a plainly-dressed bearded man, seated and playing a vielle.
b Medallion 2, a man dancing or jumping for joy.
c Medallion 3, a dressed and booted animal playing a harp.
d Medallion 4, a man ringing handbells.
e Medallion 5, a man in a long tunic, bent over backwards juggling with four knives.
f Medallion 6, a man leaning over balcony blowing a trumpet or horn.
g Medallion 7, a mermaid (or merman?).
h Medallion 8, a couple holding a cord.
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Jerusalem: ‘And David and all the house of Israel were making merry before the Lord with all their might, with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals’.16 This was an earthly rejoicing on a particular occasion, it occurred under the old law, sub lege. Compare that with the individuals in the six medallions, who, it is suggested, rejoice eternally in heaven, sub gratia. The first four medallions depict music and dancing in a curiously boisterous manner for a monastic gateway, but this is because they are a transformed, eschatological version of David’s musicians.
In the Hunterian Psalter of c.1170, at the beginning of the book of Psalms, there is an opening relevant to our subject.17 On the verso page we see King David tuning his harp, preparing to make merry before the Lord (Fig. 3, left). The several musicians around the king on this folio include players of a rebec and vielle, and others with bells on a rack or in their hands, some singing at the same time, and a piper and a flautist. After all that colour, action and fascinating musicological evidence, the Beatus initial itself on the facing recto (Fig. 3, right) might appear rather dull – only decorative foliage with two naked men climbing in it, and the usual symmetrical animals, birds and lions – but it is this kind of design, rather than a literal illustration of King David, that seems to have been the more common formula for the Beatus initial in the period, and it was certainly not intended to be viewed as an anti-climax. This recto illustrates the eternal blessedness of those who love the law of God, and the six gateway medallions have a similar function.
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Fig. 3 Opening from the Hunterian Psalter. Left, fol. 21v, King David; right, fol. 22r, ‘Beatus vir’. (By permission of University of Glasgow Archives and Special Collections MS Hunter 229.).
SCULPTURE AT THE GREEN COURT GATEWAY OF CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL PRIORY
King David, with his men of Israel processing towards Jerusalem with the Ark, was making merry in an earthly celebration of the presence of God: the first four characters on the arch are celebrating in Heaven, also in the presence of God, or at least in the plenteous Paradise he has prepared for them. The plainly-dressed bearded man (Fig. 2a) is seated and playing a vielle. He holds the instrument in the downward position, with the neck in his left hand above his shoulder and the bow held in an underhand grip, like one of the musicians in the Hunterian Psalter. The carving is worn, but his chair seems covered with draperies, perhaps giving him a degree of richness and comfort which he had not known before. The dancing man (Fig. 2b) is leaping high in some unprogrammed dance, or jumping for joy perhaps. The next medallion shows a cloaked, trousered and booted animal playing a harp (Fig. 2c). This is neither an actual nor a mythical animal, but could represent a man reborn with a marvellous new body in Heaven.18 To show the harp being played by an animal, not a man, again prevents any confusion with the standard depictions of King David, but continues to hint at the parallel between his earthly rejoicing, and theirs in Heaven. The creature’s long waving tongue is more than a graphic flourish, and would indicate it is singing loudly: this is sometimes seen with lions, as if to show they are roaring.19 Adding to the noise is a man ringing handbells (Fig. 2d), an instrument also illustrated in the contemporary Hunterian Psalter. This man is wearing a dagged tunic and leggings, as worn by later medieval entertainers or some present-day morris-dancers. When choosing these four characters to be carved for the arch, care was taken to avoid giving the impression that any of them were biblical characters or otherwise special: these are ordinary men shown engaged in familiar music-making, but lifted up high onto a heavenly stage; their ordinariness suggests that the carvings were aimed at anyone who came to the gate and were meant to help them imagine being in Heaven.
Medallion 5, the highest one, shows a man in a long tunic bending over backwards to juggle with four knives (Fig. 2e). He does not belong to the group of musicians, and has a slightly different message from theirs: now that he is living a new life in Paradise, he experiences enhanced skilfulness and amazing agility. St Augustine believed the body will be made perfect at the resurrection,20 and physical vigour was longingly awaited in religious poetry about Paradise.21 The juggler is an unusual character for sculpture, and he may have been substituted for an acrobat, which is a more common motif but which here might have too closely resembled the man dancing (Fig. 2b).22 From this point on round the arch there are eleven foliage motifs, and then the medallion with the trumpeter summoning those with business at the court; the man is shown leaning out over a wooden balcony – perhaps something like what actually happened here on the gatehouse (Fig. 2f). The last of the unresolved creatures, medallion 7, is a mermaid, modestly shown from the back; perhaps it is a merman since the hair is quite short (Fig. 2g). The creature wears a waistcoat and a floral or starry belt; the placement of the hands, with the thumbs the wrong way round, is occasionally seen in carvings of the period, but probably arose from a difficulty reproducing the pose rather than from some unknown significance. Like the previous five medallions discussed here, this could also represent a person in the afterlife, but in this case the combination of fishy and human bodies would picture a soul re-united with its body. The classical mermaid, a mythical sea-creature, was probably Christianised when adopted by
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Gregory the Great as a figure of this reunion at the end of time; he writes of the two ‘garments’ which will be given to the believer at the general resurrection, garments which he describes as the blessedness of the soul and the glory of the flesh.23 Pope Gregory’s conversion of the pagan imagery of the mermaid, and elsewhere of the centaur, might recall his instruction, sent to his emissary Augustine via Mellitus, to convert the heathen temples he found in Kent to Christian use;24 recycling seems to have been a pragmatic solution to the prevalence of pagan imagery and practice.25 The last medallion, with the two standing figures holding what looks like a cord, is formed of three voussoirs; it illustrates the other legal subject clarified by Fergusson (Fig. 2h).26
The eight medallions, including those six newly interpreted above, are all in some way related to ‘law’, with the emphasis on heavenly justice. For those not engaged in legal business, but living their workaday lives and using this gateway, the picturing of life in Paradise and the thought of it could have been enriching.
acknowledgements
The Conway Library, Courtauld Institute, for providing a study set of photographs of the sculpture, taken c.1980.
bibliography
Fergusson, P., 2013, ‘The Entry Complex at the Cathedral Priory’, in A. Bovey (ed.), BAA Trans XXXV, Medieval Art, Architecture and Archaeology at Canterbury, 82-105.
Gameson, R., 1992, ‘Romanesque crypt capitals of Canterbury cathedral’ Archaeologia Cantiana, cx, 17-48.
Kahn, D., 1991, Canterbury Cathedral and its Romanesque Sculpture, London.
Leclercq, J., 1957 (3rd English language edn 1982), The Love of Learning and the Desire for God: A Study of Monastic Culture, New York.
Willis, R., 1868, ‘The Architectural History of the Conventual Buildings of the Monastery of Christ Church in Canterbury, considered in relation to the monastic life and rules, and drawn up from personal surveys and original documentary research’, Archaeologia Cantiana, vii, 1-206.
Wood, R., 2017, Paradise: The World of Romanesque Sculpture, York.
endnotes
Fergusson, ‘Entry Complex’.
Eadwine Psalter, Cambridge, Trinity College, MS R. 17.1, fol 285r; Fergusson, ‘Entry complex’, figs. 3 and 6.
Willis 1868, 4-12.
Kahn 1991, 128-135; illus 212, 213, 216, 218, 221, 222.
Fergusson ‘Entry complex’, 97-8, figs 11a and 12. It is particularly fortunate that medallion 8, the carving with the couple holding what looks like a cord, has survived to be identified, as a photo in the Conway Library taken c.1980 shows an electricity cable perilously near the cord; the situation is only slightly improved now.
Fergusson, ‘Entry Complex’, 98-9.
1 Samuel 16:14-23.
2 Samuel 6:20-23.
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Fergusson, ‘Entry complex’, 98, 99, 101.
Fergusson ‘Entry Complex’, 101, 103.
Compare a capital of c.1100 in St Gabriel’s chapel in the cathedral crypt, Kahn 1991, pl. IV. Gameson 1992, 40-3, suggests this is one of the most advanced type of carvings in the crypt, and that this and several other capitals inspired manuscript drawings: no interpretations of these bizarre scenes have been suggested.
Leclerq 1982, 73-4.
Sample terms taken from RSV.
For example, re harvest: Matthew 3:12; judgement: Matthew 25:31-46.
Leclercq 1982, 79-83.
2 Samuel 6:5.
Glasgow University Library MS Hunter 229 (U.3.2); illustrations were on-line at 23.3.2021. In citing this manuscript, it is not intended to suggest any link to the sculpture other than approximate contemporaneity.
1 Corinthians 15, for example, verses 35-8, 51-2; Wood 2017, 138-9.
As on the left capital of the doorway at Upleadon, Gloucs.
For example, Augustine of Hippo, City of God, Book XXII, chs. 14-21.
I Cor. 15.43; Leclerq 1982, 59; Wood 2017, 144-6.
Wood 2017, 120-21, 129-52.
Gregory, Moralia in Job, bk. XXXV ch. 25; Wood 2017, 150-1.
Bede, A History of the English Church and People, 1.30, 1.32.
For example, G. Demacopoulos, ‘Gregory the Great and the Pagan Shrines of Kent’, Journal of Late Antiquity, vol. 1, no. 2, Fall 2008, 353-369; Leclercq 1982, 126.
Fergusson, ‘Entry Complex’, 97-8.
‘FOR THE HONOUR OF THAT ANCIENT METROPOLIS’: WILLIAM SOMNER’S THE ANTIQUITIES OF CANTERBURY
(1640)
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Following the publication of papers on William Somner’s life and scholarly achievements in two recent volumes of Archaeologia Cantiana, this article examines in greater detail his first book, The Antiquities of Canterbury.1 It derives from the CHAS William Urry Memorial Lecture delivered by the author in October 2019.
In May 1660, King Charles II returned to England to re-establish monarchy in the wake of civil wars and the Interregnum. As Charles broke his journey from Dover to London at Canterbury, city-born scholar and antiquarian William Somner offered a copy of his first book, The Antiquities of Canterbury, to the king. A detailed and comprehensively researched history of the city, dedicated to Archbishop William Laud by an unapologetic supporter of both church and monarchy, the work had languished since its publication in 1640 on the eve of the country’s descent into the chaotic experience of civil war. Somner’s gift to Charles II symbolically reaffirmed the high reputation and significance of Canterbury as a city with an important ecclesiastic history within a monarchic realm, reinforcing a personal sentiment declared by Somner on the book’s title page, that he had produced his work ‘for the honour of that ancient metropolis’.
In typical seventeenth-century style, the first edition title page presents significantly more information than for a modern book (Fig. 1). Indeed, its text encapsulates four major aspects of Somner’s work, thereby providing an informative guide to the study of this work. The first section directs attention to the book’s subject matter and Somner’s general method of presentation; the second points to Somner’s research methods and what he reveals of the city’s history and of the city as he knew it; the third part prompts a consideration of Somner’s motivations for writing, including why he felt his work honoured the city; and the final section links to the book’s material features. Following the lead of the title page, this article considers the result of Somner’s scholarly endeavours, The Antiquities of Canterbury.
Somner’s work has lasting merit. Twentieth-century Canterbury Cathedral archivist, William Urry, considered that ‘the volume speaks eloquently for itself and its author’ and The Antiquities has recently been described as ‘the earliest and best and most scholarly of all the historical accounts of an English provincial borough and its great ecclesiastical monuments, and the first intensive study of an
‘FOR THE HONOUR OF THAT ANCIENT METROPOLIS’: WILLIAM SOMNER (1640)
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Fig. 1 The first edition title page of The Antiquities of Canterbury.
English cathedral’.2 Somner’s work was also praised by contemporaries although it has been observed that antiquarian books of the time ‘resound with mutual praise as they salute each other’s accomplishments and urge their colleagues on to new victories’.3 The book, however, remains an important resource for researchers of Canterbury’s history today.
Before moving to consider the work in greater detail, it is useful first to set out the publication history of The Antiquities and the context of the book within the framework of Somner’s life. Four noteworthy versions of The Antiquities exist. The first edition of The Antiquities was published in early 1640. A sub-set of these books became a ‘re-release’ of the same work in 1661 under the title The Most Accurate History of the Ancient City, and Famous Cathedral of Canterbury. Unsold 1640 print copies were simply given a new title page, ‘to be pasted over the
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old Title Page’ and a small number of existing copies present this way, although the two title pages have often separated over time.4 A second edition of The Antiquities was published in 1703, some years after Somner’s death in 1669. This edition incorporates corrections made by Somner in an extant proof copy and was further ‘Revised and Enlarged’, as well as re-organised, by Nicholas Battely, vicar of Bekesbourne. Battely’s edition appended a short pamphlet titled ‘Chartham-News’ detailing ‘some strange Bones there lately digged up’ and ‘some Observations concerning the Roman Antiquities of Canterbury’, both penned by Somner. Battely removed many of Somner’s in-text transcripts to the Appendix, extending it from thirty-seven to seventy-five entries. He further added Cantuaria Sacra as a second part concerning local religious antiquities ‘Enquired into’ by Nicholas Battely and encompassing a series of plates illustrating the cathedral, several of its monuments, and the buildings of St Augustine’s Abbey. The fourth version worth noting is a modern reprint of the second edition (which omits Battely’s Cantuaria Sacra text but includes plates), published in 1977 and significant for the addition of a new introduction to the book by the aforementioned William Urry.5
Urry considered that it may have taken Somner twenty years to compile his book suggesting Somner had begun gathering material – whether intentionally for publication or simply out of interest – from his late teens onwards and likely from the beginning of his working life.6 Somner’s occupational association with the cathedral was reinforced by his personal belief in the church establishment and the monarchy. White Kennet, whose father had known Somner, describes him in 1693, as one who ‘adher’d to his Royal Master, and dar’d to suffer with him’ and having religious conviction ‘arising from a sense of conscience, that no threats or flatteries could move’.7 This stance is clear in his written work. Whilst presenting as a history of Canterbury, The Antiquities is also a tribute to the glory of the church and carries a dedication to his patron and supporter of his ‘High-Church antiquarianism’, Archbishop William Laud.8
The period during which Somner must have completed The Antiquities – the book’s imprimatur is dated 23 October 1639 – overlapped with the death of his parents, the birth of several children and his appointment as Proctor. Printing of the book was certainly complete before 14 April 1640, on which date Somner appeared before Canterbury city corporation to present them with a copy, this event being recorded in the Burghmote court minutes: ‘At this Court Mr William Somner deputie Register to my lorde Grace of Canterbury did present this Citty with a book entituled the Antiquities of Canterbury’.9 It was, however, unfortunate timing as the political and religious landscape was a troubling one with tensions between conservative churchmen and those of a more puritan outlook.
In Kent, the county elite were divided between ‘wrestling with the problem of ecclesiastical reformation’ in parliament and the actions of ‘a powerful pressure group’ of puritans.10 Within weeks of the publication of Somner’s book, soldiers were gathering at Bridge Hill just a few miles to the south-east of Canterbury, and in London, Lambeth Palace was being guarded by soldiers.11 By early 1641 Archbishop Laud was in the Tower of London and executed in 1645. Nevertheless, given the strength of Somner’s positive convictions concerning church and monarchy, it seems unlikely that he would have been repentant of his publication or his emphatic dedication to Archbishop Laud. Somner’s three-page dedication to
‘FOR THE HONOUR OF THAT ANCIENT METROPOLIS’: WILLIAM SOMNER (1640)
Laud, headlined ‘The Epistle Dedicatory’, and the nine-page Preface to his readers which follows it, are effusive but humble and he textually prostrates himself before them all, signing off the dedication as ‘The meanest of Your Graces Servants’. In contrast, the title page conveys a confident and purposeful sense of his method, motivations, scope of research, and material considerations.
somner’s method
The title page begins with what we think of today as the book’s title, The Antiquities of Canterbury, but there is an alternative, more explanatory title which follows. The text continues: ‘or A survey of that ancient citie with the suburbs and cathedral’. This longer title alludes to Somner’s chosen method for presenting gathered research as ‘a survey’ and draws attention to the material focus of his work. Here he is careful to make clear that his definition of ‘the city’ stretches to include the cathedral and the city’s extra-mural suburban areas.
It is undoubtedly the cathedral which draws Somner’s attention, and his descriptive language reflects this, describing it as the ‘chiefest glory both of the City, and my present survey thereof’.12 Somner self-consciously acknowledges his desire to write at length on the subject by contrasting his work with that of William of Malmesbury. Citing Malmesbury’s brief twelfth-century text on the cathedral he confesses ‘But I canot so contain my self’.13 Indeed, the pedestal upon which he places the cathedral is apparent from the proportion of his book given over to it. The book’s first 150 pages deal with the city, the following 174 pages are devoted to aspects of the cathedral’s history. William Gostling, writing 134 years later, similarly devotes a large proportion of his Walk in and about the City of Canterbury to the cathedral (chapters ten to forty-five of forty-five), an often-repeated pattern of attention for Canterbury ever since the construction of the cathedral within the city walls.14
Despite Somner’s clear desire to showcase the cathedral, nevertheless it is placed within the broad context of his city survey. His approach is distinctly resolute with frequent reference to his ‘method’. In discussion of the city wards he writes: ‘leaving Worthgate, I come now as I promised erewhile, and as the order of my method requires, to Westgate’; when moving on, it is ‘According to my proposed method, coming now to the Suburbs’; and in moving from his survey of the city to the cathedral he states: ‘Having briefly surveyed our Cities Wards, the order of my proposed method requires, in the next place, my survey of the Cathedrall, and Parish Churches of and about the City’.15
The method of his city survey is definitively his own, based on his geographic and historic knowledge of Canterbury but undoubtedly echoes John Stow’s earlier published survey of London (1598) and carries the same sense of a perambulation as set out in Stow’s work and in William Lambarde’s Perambulation of Kent (1576). His use of language confirms this is what is in his own mind as innumerable scattered phrases show: ‘And so I walk on to Worth-gate’; ‘Whereas the more ancient rode and passage into the City from Dover lay by the next Gate, wither I am going’; ‘Come we now to the Castle, to which our passage from the City lay of old by a Bridge’; ‘Yet thither let me leade you, and have your Patience whilest I survey the present Remains of the place’; and ‘Now being upon taking our leave
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of the Abbey, and making our retraict, let me lead you (as the next way out) over the forgotten Sepulchres of the dead …’.16 This conversational style reinforces for the reader the sense of walking through the city with Somner and of viewing the seventeenth-century city through his eyes.
After a table setting out the titles of the seventeen chapters (including the Appendix) of the book, Somner begins The Antiquities with an exploration of the ancient foundation of the city, an acknowledgement of its antiquity and a discussion of the origins of its name, its Saxon identity as a borough of Kent, and the Roman name Durovernum, associating it with ‘a swift river’, the river Stour. It is the river (and mills), along with other large-scale physical features of the city, ‘The City- Wall, and Gates therein’ along with ‘The City-ditch’ and the castle, which are his next port of call, thus setting out the geographical scope of the city through its most ancient landmarks. He is unafraid of admitting to a lack of knowledge about places: ‘Somewhat I have heard of a Ferry sometime at this place [Westgate Street over the Stour], belonging, as I am told, to the Archbishop, who did arrent it out for 16d. per annum. But I have seene no record to warrant the relation, and therefore no more of that untill I be better instructed’.17 His uncertainty concerning the siting of disappeared priory buildings within the cathedral precinct has also been noted, despite his deep knowledge of the city.18
Where he is unable to provide sure, documented evidence for aspects of observed features he makes clear his own considered view. Thus, in his description of Worthgate he begins:
Of which I can say but little, and the rather because I am not as yet perswaded to be of their opinion who think that Winchep-gate, that now is, and so called, is the ancient Worthgate. For my part, I rather conceive the gate now disgated sometime leading out of the Castle-yard into Winchep to be Worthgate, because it is both the more ancient Gate in all appearance […] and in its ruins retains the vestigia of a gate […] Besides, by it the road is continued, directly from Castle-street into Winchep, and è contra: whereas Winchep-gate carries no shew of the least antiquitie; and, beside stands wide of Winchep, making the passenger wheel about, and fetch a compasse to come to it.19
The forensic detail of Somner’s awareness of the topography and built environment of his home city is a pervasive feature of his work. Coupled with his own turns of phrase, as at the end of the above quotation, or the metaphorical conveyance of his strenuous search for evidence of the almost disappeared Queningate – ‘I sought as narrowly for it as for Ants-paths’ – it is Somner’s engaging approach to his perambulation which allows an insight into the character of his personality.20
Somner next turns to features of the suburbs, beginning with the range of religious (or ex-religious) properties sited there. From St Augustine’s Abbey, to the east of the city and most anciently established, he moves clockwise around the outskirts of the walls to discuss the history of each of ten establishments in turn: St Martin’s, The Mote, Long-port, The Nunnery of St Sepulchre’s, The Hospital of St Lawrence, St James’s otherwise St Jacob’s Hospital, The Hospital of St Nicholas at Herbaldown, Hakynton, Barton and Jesus Hospital, The Priory of St Gregory’s, and St John’s Hospital, Westgate-Street. As a final suburban step – ‘I have now surrounded the Suburbs’ – he comes to the area of Westgate Street outside the city
‘FOR THE HONOUR OF THAT ANCIENT METROPOLIS’: WILLIAM SOMNER (1640)
liberty, ‘therewith to finish my survey of the Suburbs’, before stating ‘and then I
shall enter the walls’.21 His treatment of the suburbs is patently logical.
The Westgate entrance to the city was the main route into Canterbury from London and therefore significant that he returns here for his imagined step into the city. Once within the city walls – ‘Marching on therefore from the Gate into the City’ – he works his way around the city wards in turn: Westgate, Newingate, Northgate, Worthgate, Ridingate, and Burgate.22 In these sections, he considers the ex-friaries, Eastbridge Hospital, and ‘The Exchange, Mint, Jury, and Guildhall’. Here we learn of his own gathering of found objects: ‘Amongst other pieces of antique (Romane, Britain, Saxon, Danish and Norman) coyne which I have met with and reserve […] I have withall a piece or two of H. 8. [Henry VIII] coyned at Canterbury’.23 In Northgate, he notes that the ward ‘offers and affords three remarkable Places to our Survey’, namely Stablegate, House of the Templars, and the House of the Black Prince’s Chantry Priests.24 He further covers several hospitals, that of the Poor Priests then serving as a Bridewell, Maynard’s Spittal, and Cotton’s Hospital, and goes on to examine the Dungeon or Dane John and the central city marketplace, then known as the Bullstake, on the north side of which is situated the main cathedral gate.
At this point in his perambulation Somner’s attention turns to the cathedral. In this section on the ‘Mother church’, he details the history of the cathedral foundation and its fabric, presents ‘A Survey of the present Church’, its monuments, and the surrounding precinct and Archbishop’s Palace. He follows this with three catalogues. The first, a catalogue of archbishops – John Stow having presented a similar catalogue for Bishops of London – begins with Augustine in 596 ‘Whose whole Story is become so trite and vulgar that it needs no repetition’ and continues to William Laud, the contemporary – and seventy-fifth – archbishop, presenting a sentence or somewhat more for each entry.25 A similar treatment is given to the priors of the earlier establishment, Christ Church Priory, from Henry, who was instituted by Archbishop Lanfranc in 1080, to the last prior, Thomas Goldwell, in 1517, and is followed by a more narrative catalogue concerning archdeacons. He finishes the book’s main text with a discussion of parish churches and their monuments, a section on the constitution of ‘Ecclesiastical Government’, and another on ‘Temporal Government’, the latter consisting largely of a list of mayors. Somner completes the work with an Appendix containing thirty-seven transcripts in English and Latin; these are an addition to the many transcribed documents scattered through the main text. The Appendix contains relevant sections of the Domesday Book, foundation grants for chantries, grants of land to noblemen, charitable institutions and the city, various charters, and listings of local manors. Many entries have a religious connection, for example, the form of electing and installing Priors of Christ Church, but Somner also presents civic records, such as the text of an Act of Parliament relating to the paving of Canterbury’s streets. Somner’s own house in Castle Street was physically located just outside the remit of this Act which required those owning houses lining the five main city thoroughfares to repair pavements in front of their houses. His father, however, was at least twice presented in court for street offences during Somner’s youth – in 1623 for ‘annoyance of the high way neare his back gate and stable by sullage’ and in 1628 when he ‘hath layne and doth suffer to ly the doung of his stable’ in St
John’s Lane – perhaps prompting the inclusion of such an Act in his book.26
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A final section, titled ‘an Epilogue to his Countrey-men’, promotes his plan for a future publication on Kent, and this is followed by ‘The Table’, a twelve-page index of the book’s contents. Some surviving copies include an errata page detailing errors by page and line number and separating out textual and marginal errors. Despite requiring an errata page, throughout The Antiquities Somner’s method of survey and the organisation of his material is logical, precise, and consistent, representing a pedantic and scholarly approach to research and presentation.
somner’s research and the city’s history
The Antiquities is underpinned by extensive research. The second section of the title page, where Somner expands further still on his title, draws attention to this aspect of his work:
Containing principally matters of Antiquity in them all. Collected chiefly from old Manuscripts, Lieger-books, and other like Records, for the most part, never as yet Printed. With an Appendix here annexed: Wherein (for better satisfaction to the learned the Manuscripts, and Records of chiefest consequence, are faithfully exhibited).
It is here that Somner sets out his stall as a scholar. He indicates he gathered material from manuscripts and records, ‘primary sources’ in today’s terms. In the text, he specifically points out – as with Appendix item Scriptura xxxj, ‘An abstract out of the Life of St Elphege’ – where documents are ‘never before Printed’ – and is careful to mention this feature of his work on the title page.27 This makes his work appear valuable. By presenting something new to the world, it emphasises that his endeavours with the book are a worthwhile cause and based on real historical records. His Appendix of over 130 pages – ‘An Appendix, containing such Authenticall Instruments, escripts and writings as are quoted and cited in the precedent worke’ – constitutes, very approximately, one third of the book, and he is keen to be clear that he has ‘faithfully exhibited’ transcripts of the original records. His language skills are evident in his transcripts and interpretation of records, using both Latin – still very much in regular use – and the older, Anglo-Saxon language, this research providing a practical grounding for his future publication of the first Anglo-Saxon dictionary (1659). In noting that the records he presents are ‘for the better satisfaction to the learned’, he is not only marking out his imagined readership but placing himself in a position of freely presenting the scholarly community with a generous gift – an early modern expression of honourable giving.
Learning his trade as an ecclesiastical lawyer working alongside his father exposed Somner to the range and content of the cathedral’s written records on which he drew for much of his research. Later, his own role within the cathedral institution facilitated further study. His occupational connection with Archbishop Laud and others, for example Laud’s commissary Sir Nathaniel Brent, enabled access to a wide range of documents. It is likely that his ecclesiastic connections also allowed him to obtain the design drawing of the cathedral font, the subject of the third of the book’s three plates (usually placed between pp. 180/181). The font had been paid for by the Bishop of Rochester, John Warner, and newly installed in the cathedral in 1639. The similarity between the plate in The Antiquities and
‘FOR THE HONOUR OF THAT ANCIENT METROPOLIS’: WILLIAM SOMNER (1640)
an extant design drawing by John Christmas, now in the V&A Museum, is self- evident though close examination reveals tiny differences.28 For example, the front-facing statue in the pedestal niche is reversed, and the decorative lid statues to left and right have swapped locations.
Somner also gained access to documents through his personal network of other scholars. They constituted a group of like minds and were useful in gathering material for the book as well as, no doubt, for scholarly discussions about it.29 A prime example is the second plate (usually bound between pp. 46/47) showing the ‘high altar at St Austins [St Augustine’s Abbey] with the Chapells about it’, the ‘Chapells’ being the medieval shrines of the Abbey. The original manuscript from which this image is taken is found within Speculum Augustinian, a history of the Abbey produced by an early fifteenth-century Benedictine monk, Thomas Elmham.30 In the top left corner of the plate, Somner is careful to quote his source as ‘an ancient faire MS. Sometime belonging to that Abbey, and procured to me by my worthy friend Dr. Casaubon’. Meric Casaubon, a cathedral canon and precinct resident, was a particularly close associate and of a similar age to Somner. The manuscript did not belong to Casaubon having probably been donated to Trinity Hall, Cambridge, by antiquary Robert Hare in the 1590s, nevertheless, it was Casaubon who ‘procured’ it for his friend.31 Over four hundred years later, the manuscript remains in the College and is now freely accessible in digital form through Cambridge University’s Digital Library. As with the font, the drawn image is largely accurate to the original with tiny differences, including the reversal of the figure of Christ and an altered arm placement to across the knee rather than being raised as in the original, perhaps a misinterpretation of draped clothing.
At this point, it is worth noting that despite Somner’s affection for, and comprehensive treatment of, the cathedral, there is no image of the building or any part of it included in The Antiquities, except for its depiction in the book’s remaining plate, a city map placed before the book’s main text. The most likely explanation is that no contemporary image existed beyond small illustrations in maps of the city or county at this time. Somner did later arrange for the drawing of the south prospect of the cathedral by Thomas Johnson (engraved by Wenceslaus Hollar), amongst other images, in collaboration with Sir William Dugdale in preparation for the publication of Dugdale’s Monasticon Anglicanum (1655).32 In 1640, however, it would appear he had no source document to draw on.
On the title page of The Antiquities, as noted, Somner emphasises his use of primary records, underplaying the contribution of his reading of other published works, and his own observations, to producing a full and detailed history of Canterbury. He made extensive use of published histories, quoting and commenting on them throughout. In establishing the ‘Antiquity of this our City’ at the outset, he turns to the ‘Testimonies only of two’, lately deceased William Camden (1623) and twelfth-century historian Henry of Huntingdon. Elsewhere, amongst others, he references John Twyne’s De Rebus Albionicis, Holinshed’s Chronicles, John Stow’s Annales of England and Survey of London, John Speed’s Historie of Great Britaine, Henry Spelman’s Glossary, Bede’s Ecclesiastical History, William Lambarde’s (consistently referred to as Lambert) Perambulation of Kent, John Weaver’s Ancient Funeral Monuments, William Thorne’s Chronicle of St Augustine’s Abbey, and Edmer’s Historia Novorum in Anglia. His frustration at
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not being able to obtain two of perhaps the most useful, and surprisingly local, documents – thirteenth-century St Augustine’s monk Spot’s, or Sprot’s, History of Canterbury and ex-King’s School headmaster, John Twyne’s Collection of Canterbury Antiquities – led him to bemoan their unavailability in his Preface, indicating that he felt his work should have been brought to ‘more perfection’ with them. It is likely that being aware of their existence he had intently endeavoured to seek them out.
One published work of significance is John Speed’s Theatre of the Empire (first published 1606) since the first plate in The Antiquities, placed before the main text, is a copy of Speed’s inset map of Canterbury which accompanied the map of Kent. This inclusion prompts a consideration of the role and influence of the cartographic work of John Speed on Somner. As for the map in Stow’s Survey of London, Somner’s text makes no reference to the map, it being placed to illustrate the text rather than as a guide to it. The map in The Antiquities is clearly a reworked version of Speed’s original with the addition of the several insignia of Archbishop Laud, Canterbury Cathedral, and the city of Canterbury (Fig. 2). Somner also took the opportunity to correct observed errors in Speed’s map. For example, the placement of several annotations is altered, including number thirty- nine indicating Castle Street which is moved from its place beyond the end of the street (though, in error, this is also retained) to its middle and, perhaps fortuitously, to just outside Somner’s own house.
It is probable that John Speed’s map significantly influenced how Somner conceptualised the space of the city. The Theatre was first published in the year of Somner’s birth, and he was the first generation of Canterbury inhabitants to grow up with Speed’s formally surveyed map of the city, a plan perhaps drafted in 1606 or 1608.33 Speed’s book could easily have been a childhood favourite of Somner’s, and it is not without the bounds of possibility that it represents an inspirational spark to Somner’s work. As the first relatively accurate map of the city, it enabled a new understanding of urban space, one which Somner could relate to his own experience of walking about the city.
Throughout The Antiquities, Somner exhibits a good spatial awareness with an acute sense of the physical three-dimensional nature of spaces of the city and he is easily able to visualise real-world settings from the text of old documents. Just one example from the text underlines his detailed awareness. Having determined a house in the Precinct to have been the Priory’s ‘Aula and Camera Hospitum’ where there ‘was intertainment to be had of charity, for religious and secular guests’, he draws on information from church records to declare: ‘On the top or by the foot of the Staire-case of stone vaulted underneath, anciently hung a gate, whereof (it seems) there was a constant keeper, who had his chamber hard at hand’.34 It has been noted, however, that more generally his observations of ‘architectural styles’ are made ‘in order to determine age and origins rather than to appreciate whatever impressions a visitor or resident might receive’.35 Overall, Somner’s textual descriptions are a mixture of noteworthy antiquities, documented chronologies of the history of places, recorded evidence, and all informed by his own experience of walking the streets and examining the fabric of the city.
Somner’s meticulous observational skills are critical to the depth of quality of his work. As the title of the book suggests, his objective was to present the ‘old’
‘FOR THE HONOUR OF THAT ANCIENT METROPOLIS’: WILLIAM SOMNER (1640)
things of Canterbury. If items did not meet his criteria, then he observed them but purposefully did not record them. In his description of St Dunstan’s church, he omits the recording of items on the basis of their recent age: ‘There are other monuments of the Ropers, but out of my survey, being not of any Antiquity’.36 Despite his intended aim, he does include some new and current features of the city. As described above, he chose to include the new cathedral font:
one rare piece of novelty […] a monument; not of the dead, I confesse, but (which is much better) of the operative and exemplary piety of the living Donor […] the first thing of worth, that by any private hand hath been offered to this Church of latter times.37
Under an entry for Archbishop George Abbot (archbishop 1611-33) whom he describes as a ‘special Benefactor’ to Canterbury, Somner writes of ‘the goodly conduit which he built for the common good and service of the same’.38 This large stone water conduit was constructed in the High Street during Somner’s teenage years, coming into operation in the early 1620s.39 Witnessing such significant alterations of Canterbury’s urban landscape perhaps nurtured his awareness of material change over time.
It is possible to glimpse the seventeenth-century city familiar to Somner via revealing observations scattered throughout the text. From his discussion of the age of bricks in the city walls we learn that two former city gates are closed up. He writes: ‘Tokens of the walls good antiquitie are the British bricks, to be seen at Riding-gate, at the gate also now done up, sometime leading from the Castle- yard to Wencheape, and at Queningate, or rather (if you will) at the place in the wall, where once the gate so called stood, and is now also made up’.40 In further discussion of the gates, he notes that Westgate ‘is at this day the common Gaole or Prison of the City’, but also that the prison was formerly ‘in the heart of the City, hard by S. Andrews Church, on the North-side of the street, even where since and now our corn-market is kept’.41
Somner is concerned by the poor state of Canterbury’s city walls. After writing of how ‘A Cities aspect is much blemished by ruinous edifices: especially publicke, and in places most obvious to the eye’, he poses the question: ‘Now what more publicke and obvious then the City Wall?’ and calls to his readers: ‘let us with our forefathers, as good Patriots, looke better to our Walles’.42 He continues with an indictment of the city’s governors, conjuring up an image of chronically neglected walls: ‘But I feare I speake too late […] The malady is of that growth by the want of applying timely remedies, that, I thinke, it is now become incurable’.43 It is surely fortunate that sections of the walls remain almost 400 years later.
Moving on to record the twenty-one ‘Turrets, or small watch Towers orderly placed’ along the city walls, he appears to be repeating current public discussion concerning their use: ‘in many mens judgements, such, as with no great cost, if it might stand with the wisdome of the City, might make, what we much want, convenient Pest-houses, and Receptacles for the poore visited people of the City’.44 Plague was a repetitive feature of city life with a significant outbreak in 1625 (Somner was nineteen) and the city corporation’s rental of towers to private individuals for profit did not sit well, perhaps, with the difficulties of dealing with plague in the city.
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image
Fig. 2 Somner’s map of Canterbury in the first edition
‘FOR THE HONOUR OF THAT ANCIENT METROPOLIS’: WILLIAM SOMNER (1640)
image
of The Antiquities, 1640 (Canterbury Library).
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We learn also of the state of the city ditch running around the city walls. Having recorded that it was ‘originally of a great breadth, 150. foot over’ he acknowledges that by his observation it is ‘A breadth which the present ditch, I think, in no part shews’.45 As for the condition of those parts of the ditch which did still exist, he says:
[It is] no marvell; for, as the wall, so the ditch too is in these days much neglected. Little more then halfe the wall is now in-ditched, the rest being either swerved, or else filled up, and in many parts builded upon; nay, the wall it self in some places easily scalable, what with piles and stacks of wood in some, what with housing and the like in other parts of it.46
In lamenting the lack of care for the ditch, he again suggests that it is ‘the greedinesse of a small advantage to bee a meanes (as it is) to betray the City at once both to danger and deformity,’ being threatened by the ‘private profit of some few’.47
Moving on to the river, Somner writes of on an ongoing third attempt of successive city governors to clear the river to allow boats through into the city. In praising the river’s ‘plenty of singular good fish, which it breeds and yeelds of divers sorts, Trouts especially’, he again picks up on current problems claiming that the fish stocks would be much higher ‘but for the common pochers’.48
On reaching St Augustine’s, he records how after the Reformation it was brought to ‘irrecoverable ruine: whose uncovered walls stood so languishing in time, and storms of weather that daily increased the aspect of her ruines, till now lastly they are made subject to other publick uses’.49 Here he is referencing the use of stone from the ruins for other buildings, some previously even sent to London.50 He further confirms his own observation of the state of the Abbey structures as he moves towards the Chapel of St Pancras, stating it is ‘The next thing (and what else onely is observable amongst these heapes of ruines)’.51
More such evidence of Somner’s city exists in the text. It is through these observations, woven through discussions of history and transcripts of records, that Somner subtly adds the history of his own time to his written history of the city. This makes The Antiquities of as much relevance for Canterbury’s seventeenth- century history as for the history Somner sought to present.
In dealing with the parish churches, Somner provides invaluable lists of monumental inscriptions, but it is his detailing of the content of the stained-glass windows of the cathedral for which his book is, perhaps, best known. Somner describes twelve cathedral windows as the third item of the Appendix: ‘Fenstrae in superiori parte ecclesiae Christi Cant. incipientes a parte septentrionali’.52 With a copy of The Antiquities to hand, it was these easy-to-follow descriptions which in 1642 local minister and puritan iconoclast Richard Culmer used to determine exactly which windows ‘in that Cathedrall Ocean of Images’ he should target and smash: ‘It’s sure working by the booke: But here is the wonder, that this booke should be a means to pull down Idols, which so much advaunceth Idolatry’.53 Culmer’s work was only part of the damage inflicted upon the cathedral with the font, memorials and statues targeted.54 It is possible that The Antiquities was used to identify more than just the stained glass windows, however, this was clearly not the intended use of his book Somner had in mind when he carefully recorded material details of the cathedral structure.
‘FOR THE HONOUR OF THAT ANCIENT METROPOLIS’: WILLIAM SOMNER (1640)
Somner may not have been able to foresee Culmer’s destruction, but he was acutely aware of the threat to the church establishment as he published his work. When writing about the office of archbishop, Somner declares it to have been falsely stigmatized by ‘some late turbulent Innovators’, underlining his own support of the church hierarchy.55 And he finishes this section with a prescient comment: ‘onely pray we that Anarchy never get possession of our Stage, lest confusion shut up the Scene’.56 This sense of foreboding can only have been reinforced by Culmer’s iconoclasm as the country slipped further into civil war, and as cathedrals, bishops, and the monarchy were subsequently abolished.
It is no surprise, therefore, that Somner was so eager to present his work to Charles II at the Restoration with his hopes for church and monarchy to be revived. This sentiment is clear from a printed sheet believed to be that which Somner included with his gift to the king. In the text of this piece Somner places himself as loyal and humble servant to the king, presenting his book as a ‘topographicall accompt of this once renowned and flourishing, now ruined and languishing city and cathedral’.57 Somner, who studied the minutiae of the city he loved, perhaps more than anyone, understood what had been lost and destroyed in Canterbury during the intervening twenty years from the book’s publication to the arrival of Charles II.
honouring the city: somner’s motivations
Somner was undoubtedly pleased that he had recorded so much of Canterbury’s history and fabric, although as he wrote he could not have known what would come to pass. What, therefore, was his motivation for producing The Antiquities? In proposing an answer to this question, it is useful to consider the third section of the book’s title page which is ostensibly that presenting the author’s name. Additional text, however, informs the potential reader that the book’s content has been gathered ‘All (for the honour of that ancient Metropolis, and his good affection to Antiquities)’.
This presents two obvious reasons why Somner produced his book. One appears selfless – for the honour of the city – and the other selfish – for his own love of history. Somner’s vision of Canterbury as a metropolis, or ‘mother city’, was grounded in four things: its long history, its position as the home of the cathedral or ‘mother church’, the role of the Canterbury monastic house of St Augustine’s Abbey in the establishment of Christianity, and the city’s reputation as a seat of human learning. By invoking a sense of honour – in the seventeenth century implying a sense of responsibility to provide for and serve those less well off than oneself by honourable giving, and a personal duty to maintain one’s financial and reputation creditworthiness in the eyes of others – this phrase presents both his desire to defend the city and its ecclesiastical heritage, whilst maintaining his own personal standing and bolstering his scholarly reputation with an honourable gift of The Antiquities to the public. What follows is further self-promotion, in which Somner underlines his own hard work and his good faith in completing it for the reader, it having been ‘Sought out and Published By the Industry, and Goodwill of William Somner’.
Simple human industriousness, however, is not the whole picture. Somner’s
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name is followed by a quotation from Cicero: ‘Nescire quid antea quam natus sis acciderit, est semper esse puerum’, essentially translating as ‘To be ignorant of what occurred before you were born is to remain forever a child’. In the book’s Preface, Somner discusses the notion of the immortality of man. He describes his own understanding of the distinct difference between immortality of the body (achieved through procreation) and immortality of the mind, the latter, in his opinion, ‘the best and chiefest part of Man’. Drawing from Plato, he suggests that, however old in age, people with knowledge of only the events of their own lifetime, are ‘babes and children’. By contrast, an individual who understands the long history of a place may be considered ‘to have lived so many years, as he is able truly and historically to give an account of’. Perhaps this is Somner’s true impetus for developing as broad a knowledge of Canterbury’s history as possible. He sought the essence of immortality and his publication of The Antiquities might be interpreted as a coming-of-age moment. In setting out such a comprehensive history of Canterbury he had proved to the world – importantly, the scholarly world – that he was no child. Furthermore, in gifting his book to King Charles II in 1660 he was, in a sense, reaffirming the immortality of the city and seeking to restore something of its former honour as an ancient metropolis.
the first edition work
Somner’s gift to the king was a real object and the last section of the title page, providing the names of the book’s printer and publisher – ‘London, Printed by I.
L. for Richard Thrale, and are to be sold at his Shop at Pauls-Gate at the signe of the Crosse-Keyes. 1640’ – prompts a consideration of extant first edition copies of The Antiquities, the subject of ongoing research.
By 1640, it had been almost one hundred years since books were printed in Canterbury, a trade which ended with the death of printer John Mychel in 1556.58 Somner’s sole option, therefore, was to look to London for publication, his book being one of over 570 books published in 1640.59 A comment on the book’s errata page makes clear the consequences of the author’s distance from the press in London: ‘As Errors are incident to all labours, so especially to theirs whose occasions will not suffer their attendance on the Presse. Such as, by that meanes, have escaped in the present worke, may be thus rectified’.60 A similar sentiment was expressed by Francis Taylor in 1655 in his publication ‘An Exposition of the Three First Chapters of the Proverbs’ with an additional direction to readers of his work:
whereas by reason of my far distance from the presse, many faults have escaped, and I have therefore added a Table of the most material ones that corrupt the sens, I desire that the Reader would follow the practise of a godly and reverend Minister in Kent, who reads no Book till he have first corrected all the faults in it with his pen, according to the Authors minde expressed in the Errata. So shalt thou meet with no such rubs in the way, nor puzzle thine owne head to finde another mans meaning.61
Certainly, some readers of The Antiquities took this approach, as evidenced by
pedantic alterations observed in surviving first edition copies.
In the period 1630-1640, Archbishop Laud instigated a controlling process
‘FOR THE HONOUR OF THAT ANCIENT METROPOLIS’: WILLIAM SOMNER (1640)
whereby books for publication required specific authorization in the form of an imprimatur. An official text printed in each book confirmed it had been reviewed by an appropriate authority and received formal licence for publication. In 1637, a Crown decree specified the type of book to be licensed by each approved licenser with modern English history to be signed off by ‘one of the Principal Secretaries of State’.62 The Antiquities, however, was placed into Laud’s catch-all category of ‘all other books’ and officially signed off by one of Laud’s chaplains, William Bray.63 Somner likely knew – or at least knew of – Bray since he had been appointed as a Canterbury cathedral canon in 1637, stepping into the first prebendal stall which had been left vacant by John Warner’s appointment as Bishop of Rochester. Co- incidentally, this stall was later held by John Battely, brother to Nicholas, who produced the second edition of The Antiquities in 1703.
The imprimatur in first edition copies of The Antiquities is dated 23 October 1639, the year Bray also licensed Sir Henry Spelman’s Concilia.64 Licensing carried a personal responsibility, especially given the spirit of the times and Bray’s licensing of two controversial books by John Pocklington in 1636 and 1637 saw him delivering an apologetic sermon in 1641. The licensing process was, however, thorough and could take up to a year, and Bray may have been working on reviewing Somner’s book for much of 1639.65 It is likely, therefore, that Somner finished his book some time before the grant of the licence, and perhaps even before the death of his father in 1638.
The book’s publisher, Richard Thrale, may have been introduced to Somner by someone in his scholarly, or ecclesiastical, network. Thrale, based in London, had been responsible the previous year for the publication of the Visitation articles of Archbishop Laud’s Commissary General, Sir Nathaniel Brent, with whom Somner worked. The printer, John Legate, is denoted on the title page by the initials I. L. although Legate’s printing type in 1640 did contain the upper- and lower-case letter J, used primarily in The Antiquities, it appears, for the word ‘jurisdiction’.66 Legate was the son of a Cambridge University printer, also named John Legate.67 The younger Legate printed several works for Thrale and the two men served together as wardens of the Stationers’ Company in the 1650s. Legate was also involved in printing works for Somner’s friend, Meric Casaubon, and Sir Henry Spelman, reinforcing the importance of Somner’s social network to the circumstances of his own publication.
The first edition of The Antiquities was produced in quarto (the second in folio, 1703). Legate’s print shop was for a time based in Trinity Lane in London, a short distance from St Paul’s cathedral, making this a candidate for the site where Somner’s book was printed. With over 140 known surviving first edition copies, the print run for The Antiquities likely encompassed at least 200 copies and probably more, maybe another several hundred. In 1659, over five hundred copies of Somner’s Dictionary were printed.68 Today, copies are spread across cathedrals, universities, and major libraries in England and abroad. Some remain in, or have returned to, institutions in Canterbury whilst the British Library holds four copies and the Oxford and Cambridge colleges hold at least twenty-five between them, including a copy at Lincoln College, Oxford owned by Archbishop Laud. A significant number are probably in private hands and uncatalogued libraries.
Only seven books with a 1661 title page have been identified to date. Nicholas
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Battely, in his preface to the second edition, passes comment on the reason for the post-Restoration republication:
During those distractions of our Church and State, this Book was so disagreeable to the then prevailing Powers, as that the best Fate which the Book or its Author could at that time expect, was to lie hid, and to be sheltered under the Security of being not regarded. After an end was put to the Great Rebellion, the whole Impression of this Book was not sold off, and the Author seems to have designed to have put forth a new Edition of it; hereupon the Bookseller, to revive the Sale of this Treatise, caused a new Title to be printed Anno 1662 [sic], and to be pasted over the old Title Page.
The change in title in 1661 reflects a more scientific approach to the work, so Somner’s ‘Survey of the city’ becomes ‘The most accurate history’. Apparently designed to appeal to a wider audience, title page references to manuscripts and records are removed and the book’s illustration with ‘divers maps and figures’ is highlighted. This ‘diversity’ remained unaltered from 1640, being the three plates described above and the arms of Archbishop Laud printed on the reverse of the title page. Battely also informs us that by 1703 ‘the whole Impression has been long since sold’, thus justifying his own endeavours in publication of a second edition. The new, 1661 single sheet pastedown title was printed by William Godbid, printer of John Philipot’s Villare Cantianum two years earlier, but the publisher remained Richard Thrale. Over time, in some books, page separation has obviously occurred though both titles remain in the binding. Where separated, the gluey brush strokes are visible and close examination of individual copies should, therefore, allow identification of Most Accurate History copies even where the later title is missing. In the clear absence of such marks, it can be cautiously assumed that a copy was first sold in the period 1640-60. The apparent survival of so few 1661 sales indicates that perhaps a relatively small number of books were retained by Somner or maybe that the initial release was purchased by a different type of reader, those able to afford superior bindings and storage, consequently ensuring a
higher survival rate.
Confirmation of Battely’s observation that unsold copies were simply retitled may be had by material examination of watermarks. Evidence from surviving first edition copies reveals maybe ten different watermark patterns in the paper pages, with similar marks to be found in books with 1640 and 1661 title pages. Identifiable watermark patterns include an intricate shield form, two grape patterns (one smaller, one larger), a lozenge design with initials and quatrefoils, and a distinctive large fleur-de-lys topped by initials. Watermarks found in some of the plates indicate that the same paper stocks were used as for the main text.
Paper use from different stocks appears generally random. There is positional variation between books confirming a range of paper stocks were used rather than a single stock being purchased for printing and indicating a relatively cheaper production. This is, perhaps, symptomatic of a wider perceived problem, as White Kennett declares after pointing out that Somner resorted to subscriptions for publication of his Anglo-Saxon dictionary: ‘Till the men of curiosity increase their number, this must be the fate of the best books, that they shall not bear the charges of their own Impression’.69
‘FOR THE HONOUR OF THAT ANCIENT METROPOLIS’: WILLIAM SOMNER (1640)
A significant number of books were probably purchased on initial publication. One of the earliest identifiable owners is Thomas Windsor, 6th Baron Windsor, whose arms appear in gold tooling on his book’s binding.70 He must have obtained Somner’s book fairly rapidly after publication since he died on 6 Dec 1641. In another copy, an inscription confirms its – apparently grateful – inheritance by an unknown owner on 23 September 1647: ‘Haereditas mea providentia’.71 Authors Richard Kilburne and John Philipot (d.1645) both passed comment on Somner’s work and likely purchased an early copy. Such evidence affirms an initial level of interest in The Antiquities, despite the difficult religious and political context.
There is no doubt that Somner freely gifted some copies of The Antiquities and Somner’s own library evidences the gifting of other books between friends. From at least 1644 onwards, there is evidence that Somner received more than one gifted book from Meric Casaubon; local minister Edward Aldey; former headmaster of the King’s School, John Ludd; Roger Twysden; William Dugdale; and Cornelius Bee.72 These are all, perhaps, candidates for gifts from Somner though most may equally be considered those whom Somner would expect to purchase a copy. To date, four extant copies can be identified as gifts from the author by inscriptions, two of which are dated. One copy was given away by the author on 29 April 1640, just two weeks after Somner’s recorded presentation to Canterbury corporation.73 Another is inscribed ‘Ex dono auctoris Oct 7 1644’, some four years after publication and during the years of civil war.74 This may be a book taken from the unsold stock and gifted to someone Somner had not met in the intervening period, or perhaps even a return gift to one of those noted above.
It is highly likely that Somner gifted the copy to Archbishop Laud and it is not inconceivable, given Somner’s connections and monarchist stance, and evidence of his later gift to Charles II, that a copy could have been gifted to King Charles
I. This idea is reinforced by a possible meeting with the king in Canterbury in 1640, the year of publication.75 Others to whom Somner may well have gifted a copy are his friends Meric Casaubon and Thomas Denne, both of whom are mentioned in the book’s Preface. Casaubon, as previously noted, provided access to the manuscript from which the shrines of St Augustine’s image was produced. By this token, it might be postulated that John Warner received a copy in relation to his assumed assistance in providing an image of Christ Church font. John Speed might well have been in line for a copy had he not died in 1629.
Somner’s parents both died shortly before the time of publication, but might he have given a copy to his brothers John and George or other family members? He later appears to have purchased a second copy of Dugdale’s Monasticon to provide one each for himself and his brother John.76 One first edition Antiquities is inscribed ‘by ye givest of my brother somner 1660’ and bears the name John Dawson, as does another undated copy; the owners may both be related to Somner’s second wife, Barbara, daughter of John Dawson of Lympne, whom he married in December 1659.77 This evidence points to Somner reinforcing family connections with gifts of books. Ongoing examination of extant copies may reveal additional evidence in this regard.
Somner does not appear to have been entirely generous with his gifts, however. The anonymous author of ‘Antidotum Culmerianum’ (1644), a pamphlet responding to Richard Culmer’s earlier publication ‘Cathedrall Newes from Canterbury’, writes
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with some annoyance: ‘As for the Proctors booke, about which he [Culmer] keeps so great a stir, (I pray tell him) had he thought me worthy of one of his books (as well as some others that I thinke had as little relation to him) I should have thought my self more obliged to have said somewhat in his defence’.78 There is a suggestion here that the unknown author considered himself a fairly close friend, colleague, or family member and this presents another potentially interesting connection with the gifted book noted above bearing a 1644 date.
This apparent reluctance in gifting stands in contrast to Somner’s public and open gift to Charles II in 1660, a monarch whose right to rule he had (anonymously) called for in print following the death of Charles I. In Kent, royalist county gentry, including Somner, had been active for months in support of a free parliament and the return of the king, to the point that Somner was imprisoned until shortly before the king’s return.79 Somner’s gift of The Antiquities to Charles II, therefore, was symbolic and filled with hope for the future rather than being a private, personal matter. It was also an obvious expression of the beginning of his broader involvement in the restoration of the city and cathedral.80
Somner was, undoubtedly, a man captivated by a sense of history, whether documented, or inspired by the stories and fabric of the city he was born and lived in. Knowledge of the past, which brought a sense of immortality, was important to him. In offering his learned insights into Canterbury’s history to the world in book form, he delivered the greatest honour he could imagine to the city he loved. It was likely, in part, this sentiment which prompted him to offer his work to King Charles II, his gift embodying a local, urban, and personal restoration as much as a national, monarchical one. That so many copies of his work survive, and continue to be studied, reinforces Somner’s substantial contribution to his goal of bringing immortal honour to the city of Canterbury, now an even more ‘ancient Metropolis’.
acknowledgements
This research supported by a grant from Canterbury Historical and Archaeological Society (CHAS).
list of appendices in william somner’s antiquities of canterbury
King Offa’s Charter of the donation of certaine Lands to Christ-Church.
[Latin]
The Foundation of Herbaldowne [Harbledown par.] Chantery. [Latin; English commentary containing further Latin texts.]
Fenestrae in superiori parte ecclesiae Christi Cant. incipientes a parte sept- entrionali. [Latin]
[The windows in the upper part of Christ Church, Canterbury, from the northern part.]
The Articles between the Prior of S. Gregories of Canterbury and the Covent [sic] of the same Church on the one party, and the Maior and Communalty of the City of Cant. of the other party, by the mediation of Thomas, Prior of Christ-Church of Cant. Iohn Hales one of the Barons of the Exchequer of
‘FOR THE HONOUR OF THAT ANCIENT METROPOLIS’: WILLIAM SOMNER (1640)
our Saveraigne Lord the King, Christopher Hales generall Attorney of our said Soveraigne Lord the King, and Thomas Wood Esquire, by the consent of the most reverend Father in God William Lord Archbishop of Canterbury. [English]
Foundation of the Vicarage of Cosmus-Bleane [Blean par. church dedication SS Cosmus and Damian] [Latin]
The Foundation of Eastbridge-Chantery. [Latin]
The grant of Poore Priests Hospitall with the Lands and appurtenances to it, by the late Queene, to the Citie. [Latin]
An act of Parliament for paving the streets. [Latin opening, English text]
Composition between the Parson of St Margaret and the Hospitall of Poor Priests. [Latin]
Composition between Christ-Church and St Augustines, about lands lying by the Campanile of Christ-Church. [Latin]
Concerning the Schoole at Canterbury. [Latin]
Scrutinium factum circa feretrum beatissimi patris Dunstani Archiepiscopi, ex mandato Reverendissimi patris ac Dni Domini Willielmi Warham Cantuar. Archiepisc. & Domini Thomae Goldston sacrae paginae professoris, ejusdemque ecclesiae Prioris dignissimi Anno Domini 1508. die 22do Aprilis. [Latin]
[A search made around the shrine of the most blessed Father Dunstan, Archbishop, on the command of the most Reverend Father and Lord William Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury, and Master Thomas Goldston, professor of sacred theology and most worthy Prior of the same church 22 April 1508.]
A Grant or Demise of part of the demeasness of Reculver Monastery made by Archbishop Agelnoth to two of his Ministers. [Latin]
The Kentish manors, in the Conquerors time, belonging Scriptura both to the Archbishop and Monkes of Canterbury, and recorded in the Booke of Doomsday. [Latin]
[misprinted as 16] The Record of Archbishop Winchelsey his Inthronization, shewing in and after what forme the Archbishops of Canterbury anciently were inthronized: and thence intitled. [Latin]
A Grant of power delegated to the Prior of Christ-Church by a Count Palatine, to create Notaries. [Latin]
A Composition made Anno 1242. between the Abbey of St Austins, and the Priory of Christ-Church, about divers things, especially maritime customes at and about Minster and Sandwich. [Latin]
A Composition between the same houses about a Kay [quay] and house at Fordwich. With such circumstances as are added by the Relator, Thorne, St Augustines Chronicler. [Latin]
The forme of electing and installing the Prior of the Church of Canterbury. [Latin]
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The Chapters Confirmation of the Parsonages of Hakinton [Hackington par.] and Tenham [Teynham par.] appropriated to the Archdeaconry of Canter- bury by Stephen Langton the Archbishop. [Latin]
An enlargement of the same Archdeacons Iurisdiction by the same Arch- bishop. [Latin]
The same Archbishops Charter of Revocation of certaine Churches in the times of Baldwin and Hubert his predecessors exempted from the Archdea- conry, intituled. [Latin]
A personal Composition between the Chapter and the same Archdeacon touching Jurisdiction [sic] in the Vacancy. [Latin]
A Composition between Saint Augustines Abbey and the Citie of Canter- bury about limits and liberties, intituled by Thorne. [Latin]
The Ordination of the Vicarage of St Paul Cant. [Latin]
The Ordination of the Vicarage of St Mary Northgate Canterb. [Latin]
The Ordination of the Vicarage of Holy-Crosse of Westgate, Cant. [Latin]
The Ordination of the Vicarage of St Dunstan, Cant. [Latin]
A Record shewing the ancient forme and Custome of payment of Tithes in Canterbury, taken out of the Archbishops principall Registry. [Latin]
Another Record to the same purpose, taken out of the Registry of the Con- sistory at Cant. being deposition or witnesses examination taken in a suite, Anno 1457. there commenced, for tithes, by the then Parson of St Elphege, Cant. [Latin]
An abstract out of the Life of St Elphege, written by Osborne Scriptura a Monke of Canterbury in the Conquerors time, of what concernes the siege and spoile of Canterbury (both Cathedrall and Citie) happening in the yeare 1011. never before Printed. [Latin]
Foundation of the Lukedale [Lackenden, in Bekesbourne par.] Chantery. [Latin]
A Grant made by Archbishop Wlfred to the family at Christ-Church permit- ting them to enjoy certain houses which themselves had built (it seemes) upon the reedifying of the Monastery. [Latin]
An Apologie for Archery, by Mr Iohn Bingham, in his Notes upon Aelians Tactiks, pag. 24. &c. [English, includes a short Latin text]
The Copy of an ancient Ms. shewing and setting forth the forme of some kinde of Law-trialls amongst the English-Saxons. [Latin]
Records extracted from the Tower of London, touching the liberties of Can- terbury. [Latin]
A Codicill (or Charter) of Kenulf King of Mercia of the gift of certaine Land in Canterbury (at a place now called Binney [possibly Binnewith island in R. Stour?]) to Wlfred the Archbishop. [Latin]
The Epilogue to his Countrymen. [English]
‘FOR THE HONOUR OF THAT ANCIENT METROPOLIS’: WILLIAM SOMNER (1640)
bibliography
First edition copies of The Antiquities:
Canterbury Cathedral Archives and Library, W2/Q-12-8; W2/Q-12-9; W/S-11/14
Bishop Cosin’s Library, Durham, Cosin Y.4.8 Glasgow University Library, Sp. Coll. 585 The Huntington Library, 60681.
The Library Company of Philadelphia, C/103/002/001 Two copies in private hands
Canterbury Cathedral Archives:
CCA-A/C/4
CCA-CC/J/Q/Box 15 (Sept 1623) CCA-CC/J/Q/427i.
State Papers Online, SP 14/36, fol. 119 Trinity Hall, Cambridge, MS 1
V & A Museum, Accession E.574-2005
image
Anon, 1644, ‘Antidotum Culmerianum’.
Battely, Nicholas, ‘A Preface to this New Edition’, in The Antiquities of Canterbury by William Somner, 2nd edn (London: R. Knaplock, 1703; repr. Wakefield: EP Publishing, 1977).
Bennett, H.S., 1970, English Books & Readers 1603 to 1640 (CUP).
Blayney, Peter W.M., 2013, The Stationers’ Company and the Printers of London 1501- 1557 (CUP).
Bower, David I., 2014, ‘Speed’s Town-Mapping Itineraries’, Imago Mundi, 66:1, 95-104 (p. 100).
Bowes, Robert, ‘Legate, John (c. 1562-1620/1), printer’, ODNB.
Culmer, Richard, ‘Cathedrall Newes from Canterbury’ (London, 1644), repr. in Chronological History of Canterbury Cathedral (Canterbury: H.S. Claris Kent Herald Office, 1883) by G. Smith.
Dow, Christopher, 1636, ‘Discourse of the Sabbath’.
Everitt, Alan, 1986, The Community of Kent and the Great Rebellion 1640-60 (Leicester University Press).
Fletcher, Rachel, 2018, ‘“Most Active and Effectual Assistance” in the Correspondence of Sir William Dugdale and William Somner’, Amsterdamer Beiträge zur älteren Germanistik 78 (2-3), pp. 166-184.
Gardiner, Dorothy, ed., 1933, The Oxinden Letters 1607-1642 (London: Constable). Gostling, William, 1774, A Walk in and about the City of Canterbury (Canterbury: [n.
pub.]).
Gregory, Jeremy, 1995, ‘Canterbury and the Ancien Regime: The Dean and Chapter, 1660- 1828’, in A History of Canterbury Cathedral, ed. by Patrick Collinson, Nigel Ramsay, and Margaret Sparks (Oxford: OUP, repr. 2002), pp. 204-255.
Griffin, Sarah and David Shaw, 2020, ‘William Somner and his Books: Provenance Evidence for the Networks of a Seventeenth-century Canterbury Antiquarian’, in Kentish Book Culture: Writers, Archives, Libraries and Sociability c.1400-1660, ed. Claire Bartram (Oxford: Peter Lang), pp. 233-285.
Hunt, Arnold, ‘William Bray’, ODNB.
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Kennett, White, 1693, ‘The Life of Mr. Somner’ in A Treatise of the Roman Ports and Forts in Kent by William Somner.
Le Baigue, Anne and Avril Leach, 2018, ‘“Where Streams of (Living) Water Flow”: The Religious and Civic Significance of Archbishop Abbot’s Conduit in St Andrew’s Canterbury, 1603-1625’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxxxix, 111-134.
Leedham-Green, Elisabeth, ‘Hare, Robert’, ODNB.
Lehmberg, Stanford E., 1996, Cathedrals under Siege: Cathedrals in English Society,
1600-1700 (University of Exeter Press).
Parry, Graham, 1995, The Trophies of Time: English Antiquarians of the Seventeenth
Century (OUP).
Sparks, Margaret, 2007, Canterbury Cathedral Precincts: A Historical Survey (Canterbury: Dean and Chapter of Canterbury).
Somner, William, 1640, The Antiquities of Canterbury (London: Richard Thrale).
Stow, John, 1598, A Suruay of London Contayning the Originall, Antiquity, Increase, Moderne estate, and Description of that Citi.
Taylor, Francis, 1655, ‘An Exposition of the Three First Chapters of the Proverbs’.
Urry, William, 1977, ‘Introduction’, in The Antiquities of Canterbury by William Somner,
2nd edn (London: R. Knaplock, 1703; repr. Wakefield: EP Publishing).
Wright, David, 2019, ‘“Devotion to the Uncovering and Recording of a Nation’s Language and a City’s Antiquities”: The Life of William Somner of Canterbury (1606-1669). Part I’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxl, 13-36.
Wright, David, 2020, ‘William Somner (1606-1669). Part II’, Archaeologia Cantiana,
cxli, 25-46.
endnotes
David Wright, ‘“Devotion to the Uncovering and Recording of a Nation’s Language and a City’s Antiquities”: The Life of William Somner of Canterbury (1606-1669). Part I’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxl (2019), 13-36; ‘William Somner (1606-1669), Part II’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxli (2020), 25-46. See also: William Urry, ‘Introduction’, in The Antiquities of Canterbury by William Somner, 2nd edn (London, 1703; repr. Wakefield, 1977); and White Kennett’s ‘The Life of Mr. Somner’ published with Somner’s A Treatise of the Roman Ports and Forts in Kent (1693).
William Urry, ‘Introduction’, p. ix; Wright, Part I, p. 20.
Graham Parry, The Trophies of Time: English Antiquarians of the Seventeenth Century (Oxford, 1995), p. 1.
Nicholas Battely, ‘A Preface to this New Edition’, in Somner, Antiquities, 2nd edn, repr. 1977.
Somner, Antiquities, 2nd edn, repr. 1977.
Urry, p. vii.
Urry, p. v; Kennett, pp. 90, 92.
Wright, Part I, p. 18.
CCA-A/C/4, fol. 152r.
Alan Everitt, The Community of Kent and the Great Rebellion 1640-60 (Leicester, 1986), p. 85.
The Oxinden Letters 1607-1642, ed. by Dorothy Gardiner (London, 1933), pp. 174, 175.
William Somner, The Antiquities of Canterbury (London, 1640), p. 150.
Ibid.
William Gostling, A Walk in and about the City of Canterbury (Canterbury, 1774).
Somner, Antiquities, pp. 27, 45, 150.
Somner, Antiquities, pp. 18, 21, 33, 60, 63.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 95.
Margaret Sparks, Canterbury Cathedral Precincts: A Historical Survey (Canterbury, 2007), p. 4.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 21.
‘FOR THE HONOUR OF THAT ANCIENT METROPOLIS’: WILLIAM SOMNER (1640)
Somner, Antiquities, p. 29.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 94.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 99.
Somner, Antiquities, pp. 123-4.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 132.
John Stow, A Suruay of London Contayning the Originall, Antiquity, Increase, Moderne estate, and Description of that Citi (1598), pp. 399-406; Somner, Antiquities, p. 229.
CCA-CC/J/Q/Box 15 (Sept 1623), CCA-CC/J/Q/427i.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 471. The Appendix starts on p. 376; the first seven items are identified
by Arabic numerals, thereafter by Roman.
Accession E.574-2005, V & A Museum; a digital image is available.
For more on this subject, see: Rachel Fletcher, ‘“Most Active and Effectual Assistance” in the Correspondence of Sir William Dugdale and William Somner’, Amsterdamer Beiträge zur älteren Germanistik (2018) 78 (2-3), pp. 166-184; Sarah Griffin and David Shaw, ‘William Somner and his Books: Provenance Evidence for the Networks of a Seventeenth-century Canterbury Antiquarian’, in Kentish Book Culture: Writers, Archives, Libraries and Sociability c.1400-1660, ed. by Claire Bartram (Oxford, 2020), pp. 233-285; and Wright, Part I, 26-30.
Thomas Elmham, Historiae Abbatiae S. Augustini (MS 1), fol. 77r. http://cudl.lib.cam.ac.uk/
view/MS-TRINITYHALL-00001/159.
Elisabeth Leedham-Green, ‘Hare, Robert’, in ODNB online.
Wright, Part I, 29.
David I. Bower (2014) ‘Speed’s Town-Mapping Itineraries’, Imago Mundi, 66:1, 95-104 (p.
100).
Somner, Antiquities, p. 207.
Wright, Part I, 23.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 342.
Somner, Antiquities, pp. 181-2.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 274.
Anne Le Baigue and Avril Leach, ‘“Where Streams of (Living) Water Flow”: The Religious and Civic Significance of Archbishop Abbot’s Conduit in St Andrew’s Canterbury, 1603-1625’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxxxix (2018), 111-134.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 6.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 27.
Somner, Antiquities, pp. 14, 15.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 15.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 16.
Somner, Antiquities, pp. 31, 32.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 32.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 33.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 45.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 60.
SP 14/36, fol. 119, State Papers Online.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 61.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 385.
Culmer, Richard, ‘Cathedrall Newes from Canterbury’ (London, 1644), repr. in Chronological History of Canterbury Cathedral (Canterbury, 1883) by G. Smith, p. 313.
Stanford E. Lehmberg, Cathedrals under Siege: Cathedrals in English Society, 1600-1700
(Exeter, 1996), pp. 26-27.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 223.
Somner, Antiquities, p. 225.
Dedication sheet in copy of The Antiquities in The Huntington Library, catalogue ref. 60681.
AVRIL LEACH
Peter W. M. Blayney, The Stationers’ Company and the Printers of London 1501-1557
(Cambridge, 2013), p. 785.
H.S. Bennett, English Books & Readers 1603 to 1640 (Cambridge, 1970), p. 1.
Somner, Antiquities, errata page.
Francis Taylor, ‘An Exposition of the Three First Chapters of the Proverbs’ (1655), To the Reader.
Bennett, p. 46.
Arnold Hunt, ‘William Bray’, in ODNB online.
An exception to this is Somner’s proof copy (CCAL W/S-11/14) which unusually bears the date 23 October 1640.
Bennett, p. 41; Christopher Dow, ‘Discourse of the Sabbath’ (1636), opp. p. 1.
For example, for capital ‘J’, see pp. 55, 457, 496; for lower case ‘j’, see pp. 229, 485, 497.
Robert Bowes, ‘Legate, John (c. 1562-1620/1), printer’ in ODNB online.
Wright, Part II, p. 32.
Kennett, p. 81.
Canterbury Cathedral Library, W2/Q-12-9.
Library Company of Philadelphia, C/103/002/001.
Griffin and Shaw, p. 235.
Bishop Cosin’s Library, Durham, Cosin Y.4.8.
The author is grateful to M. Byford for this detail.
Wright, Part I, 19.
Wright, Part I, 30.
Glasgow University Library, Sp. Coll. 585 (dated copy); Canterbury Cathedral Library, W2/Q- 12-8; Wright, Part II, p. 35.
Anon, Antidotum Culmerianum (1644), p. 32.
Everitt, pp. 306-7.
Jeremy Gregory, ‘Canterbury and the Ancien Regime: The Dean and Chapter, 1660-1828’, in A History of Canterbury Cathedral, ed. by Patrick Collinson, Nigel Ramsay, and Margaret Sparks (Oxford, 1995; repr. 2002), pp. 204-255 (p. 213).
KENTISH DUCK DECOYS
keith robinson
In 2015 the site of the former pipe duck decoy at High Halstow became a scheduled monument as the only surviving example in Kent.1 Ralph Payne- Gallwey’s classic work The Book of Duck Decoys published in 1886 listed 188 decoys in England of which only two were located in Kent, though not including that at High Halstow. The results of the author’s researches into the former existence of duck decoys in Kent (a significantly larger number) are summarized below.
The harvesting of wild duck was a traditional pursuit in wetland areas throughout Britain from prehistoric times. Bows and arrows, sling shots, throwing sticks and snares would have been the earliest means of ‘capture’, probably followed by various forms of nets and cage traps.
From medieval times ‘duck driving’ was recorded in the fens, meres, and broads of east coast counties. Duck driving took place during the short period at the end of the breeding season when the young of the year were unfledged and the adult birds were in moult and flightless. At a suitable place on the marsh long nets were set up in a ‘V’ formation and the flightless birds were driven from their hiding places in the reeds and captured. Many thousands were caught much to the detriment of the native breeding stock.2
The problem of harvesting migratory birds in large numbers, in prime condition, during the winter season was not solved until the invention of the ‘pipe decoy’ in fourteenth-century Flanders. The earliest recorded pipe decoy, located by recent research in northern Flanders, was mentioned as a vogelrij van riviervogels in a document dated 7 September 1318. In the grounds of the castle of Bornem was an isolated part of the former watercourse of the River Schelde known as the Oude Schelde on which a number of pipes had been built. Ducks were caught there for almost eight hundred years.3
The Dutch have traditionally been credited as the inventors of the pipe decoy, indeed the word decoy is believed to derive from the Dutch ‘eendenkooi’ meaning duck trap. Pipe decoys were certainly improved and developed by the Dutch and probably introduced into Britain by engineers engaged in draining the East Anglian wetlands in the early seventeenth century.
A pipe decoy consisted of a shallow pond of about two acres set within a wooded area of around eight acres maintained as a quiet, undisturbed sanctuary for wild duck. Wild duck generally feed at night and seek out quiet waters on which to rest during the day. The peace and seclusion of the decoy gave the birds an apparently
KEITH ROBINSON
image
Fig. 1 Shape and construction of a decoy pipe. The pipes were covered by netting supported on wooden or metal hoops. Reed screens hid the decoyman from the ducks on the pond. The ‘Piper’ leapt over a dog jump between the screens exposing itself to the ducks and lured them down the pipe toward the tunnel net at the end.
safe haven. Extending from the pond were several, usually four to six, curved water- filled channels or ‘pipes’, up to 70 yards (65m) long, diminishing from 20 feet (6m) wide at the mouth to 2 feet (0.6m) at the end. Each pipe was covered with netting supported on wooden or metal hoops leading to a detachable ‘tunnel net’. The outside edge of the pipe was bordered by reed screens, 6ft (1.6m) high, in an echelon formation, 3ft (0.9m) apart with 2ft (0.6m) high ‘dog jumps’ in between (Fig. 1).
The success of the decoy depended on a small, well-trained, foxy-looking dog, the ducks ‘mobbing’ instincts and their determination to maintain clear sight of a possible predator. The decoyman, hidden from view behind the screens at the mouth of the pipe, threw a handful of corn over the screen on to the water. A flock of tame ‘lead’ ducks – resident on the pond – swam after the corn followed by their wild companions. The dog then leapt over a dog-jump exposing itself to the ducks then disappeared behind the next screen, only to repeat the action further down the pipe. The wild ducks, safe on the water, paddle after the dog down the pipe. Once unsighted from the birds remaining on the pond by the curve in the pipe, the decoyman appeared and frightened the ducks in the pipe who flew down the pipe into the tunnel net where they were quickly dispatched. Ducks take flight into the wind, consequently having a choice of pipes aids the efficiency of the pond.
There were two ‘standard’ shapes of purpose-built ponds, ‘crab-shaped’ and ‘starfish’, both of which had their origins in Holland (Fig. 2). The crab-shaped generally had only four pipes though a fifth pipe is known. The starfish could have up to eight pipes on larger ponds. Payne-Gallwey’s own decoy had only three pipes. He considered that unless the fowl were very numerous three/four pipes were sufficient.4 Natural, large, irregularly shaped ponds could have many pipes. It was not unusual for the pond and woodland cover to be within a moat.
The fowl caught varied with the locality. Some ponds depended on particular
KENTISH DUCK DECOYS
image
Fig. 2 The standard shapes for purpose built decoy ponds, crab-shaped and starfish, originated in Holland. The average pond was one to two acres in area and a maximum of three feet in depth. Four to six pipes were usual though eight pipes is known. Many more pipes were built on large existing waters such as Fritton Lake, Norfolk, which had twenty-one.
species, mallard, widgeon and teal being the most usual though pintail and shoveler were regularly taken, gadwell more rarely. Diving ducks, tufted, pochard and golden-eye rarely enter the pipe but should they do so once startled they swim under water to escape rather than take flight. There were a few specialist pochard ponds on the east coast, particularly in Essex, which caught the birds in flight but they did not employ dogs nor exploit their mobbing instincts.
What was probably the first pipe decoy in England was built by Sir William Wodehouse (d.1639) on his estate at Waxham, Norfolk, c.1620.5 Charles II is often, erroneously, credited with introducing the pipe decoy to England. He had a decoy built in St James’ Park which was mentioned by John Evelyn in a diary entry dated 9 February 1665.6 This entry is insufficiently detailed to confirm the actual form of the decoy but the relevant royal financial records contain enough detail to do so.7
After the restoration Royalists returning from exile on the Continent, regained their estates and rebuilt them. Some, having seen decoys in the Low Countries, built their own, sometimes as a garden ornament which supplied fowl for the table or, realizing their commercial potential, as a financial investment.
The investment involved was considerable and always at risk subject to the vagaries of the fowl, agricultural change affecting the availability of food in the immediate area and disturbance of the pond. This is amply exampled by the efforts of Essex yeoman farmer John Cooch who built a four-pipe decoy on his land at Canney Marsh, nr. Steeple in 1713. Detailed accounts show that £176 11s. 4d. was expended and the pond was first used on 3 September 1714 when ‘Jos. Woodwards, Duckoyman’ took 66 birds. That first full season’s take totaled 7,345 birds which, sold at the going rate of 9s. 6d. per doz. would have been valued at £290 15s. 0d. a balance of £114 3s. 8d. over and above the cost of construction. Such was the decoy’s success that in 1721 Cooch added another 3 pipes to the pond at a
KEITH ROBINSON
cost of £130 3s. 0d. Only marginal increases in catches were recorded in the two subsequent seasons after which they plummeted and the pond was abandoned in 1727.8 These remarkable figures show how speculative an investment in a decoy could be.
Given a suitable location, freedom from disturbance and the availability of fowl, success depended on the skill and trust shared by ‘coyman and dog. Most decoymen, as employees, are anonymous though there were dynasties such as the Williams family of Borough Fen in Cambridgeshire who were first recorded there in 1670. The last of the family, Billy, took his last take in 1958 when his ‘victims’ were ringed for research into migration rather than being destined for the market. Williams family members were also employed at other decoys.9 The famous Skelton family of Friskney, Lincolnshire – seven ‘coymen spread over three generations – built and managed decoys throughout England and in Ireland.10 The skills of the dog, traditionally called ‘Piper’, are akin to those of a sheepdog. Though receptive to the commands of the ‘coyman a good Piper knew his job and a piece of cheese was the reward for a job well done. The cardinal rule was that the dog should never show his face to the ducks, such an occurrence resulted in scaring the birds into flight out of the pipe. Payne-Gallwey experimented with a cat, a ferret and a rabbit, each provoked the correct response from the birds but
were, of course, untrainable.11
The counties of Lincolnshire (39), Essex (29), Norfolk (26) and Somerset (14), contained the greatest number of decoys.12 Later research has suggested that Somerset may have had as many as forty-five.13
Payne-Gallwey’s national survey of decoys greatly underestimated those of Kent which had at least eight (see below). The first mention of a decoy in the county was in 1634 when Sir William Brereton (1604-1661), en route for Rotterdam, stopped over at Queenborough and commented that there was ‘a convenient place in the remotest part of the marsh for a Coy’.14 Brereton built two of the earliest decoys in England, neither mentioned by Payne-Gallwey, on his estate at Hodleston, Cheshire, which were operative in 1634. Brereton toured Holland during May of that year visiting eight decoys, though the wary Hollanders did not allow his close scrutiny even though the host’s son, known as ‘John Ward’ (Jan Waerd?) had designed and supervised the building of Brereton’s own ponds.15 The building of many of the earliest ponds, in Ireland as well as England were supervised by Dutchmen, as was that built for Charles II in St James’ Park. Charles’ choice ‘Sydracke Hilcus’ later built the decoy at Grovehurst Farm, nr Milton Regis, as detailed below.16
Gazetteer for Kent
The author’s researches have identified eleven possible decoy sites in the county,
eight of which supported by documentary evidence (Map 1).
1) Grovehurst Farm, nr Milton Regis: TQ 9113 6728: built between 1676-8 by Sidrack Hilkes on lands rented from Sir Jonathan Keates.17 ‘Starfish-shaped’, the number of pipes varied. Seven pipes in 1824, redesigned latterly with four pipes at the time of closure in 1865. Hilkes probably died before the pond was in use. His widow Elizabeth remarried and the decoy was first recorded as being held by her husband William Griffin in November 1679.18
image
KENTISH DUCK DECOYS
219
Map 1 The sites of former, and possible, Kentish duck decoys.
KEITH ROBINSON
image
Map 2 The decoys at Milton Regis:
Grovehurst, operational 1679-1865; 2) ‘Birdhide’ operational c.1687-c.1704;
3) Kemsley Downs construction c.1682-87 but unfinished.
Due to increased industrial activity in the area, the Sittingbourne/Sheerness branch railway being built within 250 yards and the lowering of the water table by four feet in the course of marsh reclamation catches were reduced to 500 per annum, and the decoy became uneconomical.19 A decoy house close to the pond was demolished post 1824, its replacement survived into the late 1950s (Map 2).
Birdshide, Grovehurst Farm, nr Milton Regis: TQ 9095 6725: local tradition held that the decoy at Grovehurst dated from the inning of the local marshes by the Dutch.20 Other sources described a teal pond – usually a small pond with a single pipe.21 When the Grovehurst estate was auctioned in 1824 the sales details included a map22 which showed a pond, an obvious detached portion of Coldharbour Creek, described as ‘Birdshide Bay’ at the extreme western end of which appears to be a decoy pipe. In 1687 Birdshide and the Decoy are listed as separate holdings rented by William Griffin in the Holy Trinity Church Warden’s accounts.23 ‘Birdshide Bay’ was an odd shape for a
KENTISH DUCK DECOYS
normal teal pond, but its narrowness, made it suitable. Teal ponds were often ‘fed’ with corn rather than being ‘dogged’ and used a net dropped over the mouth of the pipe to trap the birds. This was done at night, the ducks being fed in the mouth of the pipe, in essence a feeding station. This may explain why the pond was not referred to as a decoy in the Warden’s accounts.
Kemsley Downes, nr Milton Regis: TQ 9159 6662: properties detailed as ‘Old Decoy Wood’ and ‘Old Decoy Reed Bed’ appear on the 1841 Tithe Map and in the Apportionments. The reed bed shown has every indication of being the remains of a four-pipe decoy. Between 1682 and 1687 William Griffin, then occupant of the Grovehurst decoy, rented land on Kemsley Downes from owner Robert Groves.24 However at no time was this holding recorded as a decoy in the Parish Records nor on OS maps. It was ‘known’ locally that there had been a decoy at Kemsley Downes close to the Grovehurst pond. Ornithologist Nicholas Ticehurst inspected the site in the 1900s and identified two pipes. Eric Gillham, a decoy researcher, inspected the pond in the 1950s and failed to find any trace of pipes.25 We might conclude that William Griffin rented the land with the intention of building a decoy but abandoned the attempt, possibly after establishing the ‘Birdshide’ teal pond.
Nagden Marsh, Graveney, nr Faversham: TR 0324 6416: this decoy was built on lands which were formally part of the Faversham Abbey estate and first recorded in estate accounts for 1678.26 The last record in the estate accounts was in 1808. A map detailing the ponds appears not to have survived. Literary references in the 1760-80 period mention ‘ponds’.27 There was extensive flooding of the marshes in 1953 and later the installation of land drainage; however, crop marks show the possibility of a number of ponds, the shapes and the number of pipes indistinct. The decoy house was represented as Kye Cottage on an OS map dated 1878.
Nordowne Farm, nr High Halstow: TQ 7827 7778: a four-pipe crab-shaped decoy, probably built c.1680 on a 108 acre farmstead owned by Rev. John Price and tenanted by Abraham Snusher. A farmhouse, barn, stables and other buildings were situated nearby as detailed in an indenture dated 26 May 1693 recording the sale of the holding to John Mawdistley and John Best in trust for Thomas Best of Chatham.28 An estate map dated 1697 shows buildings in the same field as the decoy which, however is not delineated.29 These buildings were demolished before the first Ordnance Survey maps. A small cottage of a later date close to the decoy, Little Decoy House, was recorded as occupied in 1881 but probably abandoned soon after (Fig. 3).
There is evidence that the decoy ceased operations by 1736. Invoices from ‘William Cox, carpenter’, detailing the felling of trees and their conversion to lumber and extensive building works carried out on the farm buildings exist in the Medway Archives, Best family collection.30 The invoices are dated between September 1736 and June 1737 – throughout the ‘catching’ season indicating that the decoy was probably no longer in use. Any traditionally-minded decoyman would never have allowed interference with his pond in the catching season.
Aerial photographs, LiDAR surveys, and inspections on the ground reveal
alternative pipe locations and a possible reduction in pond size. This is a
KEITH ROBINSON
image
Fig. 3 Aerial view of the site of the scheduled former duck decoy pond on the High Halstow marshes. March 2014 (©Historic England Archive).
probable indication that improvements to the pond were attempted prior to its abandonment. The original farmstead became part of the larger landholding named Decoy Farm. The decoy site is now in the ownership of the RSPB.
Gray’s Farm, Chislet: TR 2380 6810: subject of a lease of land for 25 years between landowner Henry Crispe and lessee Henry Wraith dated 14 September 1753.31 Another document dated 1745 in the same collection of the Kent History and Library Centre at Maidstone, is an amendment to a previous lease indicating that the decoy predates 1740.32 A sketched addition to a ‘scots’ map, earliest date 1813, shows a four pipe decoy of an irregular star-fish design with a central island, which may indicate that at that time it was being used as a flight pond for shooting, within a rectangular moat.33 Crop marks confirm the shape, as is the possible existence of a house and other buildings close by. The ancient landmarks, Fowler’s Drove and Fowler’s Bridge, may well predate the decoy, an indication of the wealth of wildfowl in the area.
Midrips, Romney Marsh: TR 0097 1882: a Decoy House and probable store building was shown on early OS maps east of the Lydd/Jew’s (Jury’s) Gut road on the Ministry of Defence Range. Exploration of the site by ornithologist Norman Ticehurst in the 1950s revealed the foundations of the buildings partially destroyed by wartime defensive works.34 A reeded hollow with indistinct pipes was located but could not be definitively identified. It is possible that this was a cage decoy.35 The decoy house was occupied by Customs Riding Officers, probably intermittently, during the 1719-40 period.36
KENTISH DUCK DECOYS
During the 1740s through to 1754 the seawalls were often breached by winter gales and flood water reached nearby Scotney possibly destroying the decoy.37 A sketch of the decoy house c.1759-63, probably by Thomas Hogben,38 suggests that it survived these inundations.
An alternative siting – two fields, designated ‘Decoy House Field’, one with a pond and a building – are shown on the tithe map and apportionments c.1825 west of the road.39 These fields are now gone due to gravel extraction.
Slayhills Marsh, nr Upchurch: TQ 8669 7042: between 1878 and 1883 landowner George Webb enclosed around 400 acres of Medway estuary saltmarsh including the islands of Milfordhope, Greenborough and Slayhills.40 On the reclaimed Slayhills island he attempted to use an existing rill to form a two-pipe decoy as detailed on OS maps dated 1904. There was apparently no attempt to regularize the shape of the pond but some trees were planted. The reclaimed marshland, and the water within it, was initially salty and unsuitable. However as time progressed the water freshened and ducks began to use the pond. Mr. Webb died in 1899, the decoy incomplete. The whole of the reclaimed lands were lost back to the tide after a gale and high tide on 30 December 1905.41
Horsham Marsh, nr Upchurch: TQ 8374 6843: first identified by Eric Gillham from an aerial photograph with a hand lens.42 Gillham saw a small rectangular pond with two ‘pipes’ clearly and two faintly visible. Perusal of the tithe map and apportionments (1841) reveal no relevant field names, nor the parish registers ‘decoymen’. The manor of Horsham, over a thousand acres, was from 1731 leased from All Souls’ College, Oxford, by Joseph Hasted, grandfather of Edward the Kentish historian. Edward mentions decoys at Grovehurst and Nagden but none at the family holding at Horsham. In September 1812 a long running legal dispute over the Hasted family estate was resolved with the sale of the lease of Horsham Manor after an auction held at Rochester. The comprehensive sales particulars contain no reference to a decoy.43
This is a wild and lonely site without public right of access. Nearby Otterham Creek was in the past a busy harbour giving access to London markets. This may have been a pond used for flight shooting fed from adjacent rills.
Nor Marsh, Gillingham: TQ 8218 6996: Nor Marsh, totaling c.300 acres, is situated north of Bartlett Creek opposite Gillingham Saltings in the former Cinque Ports Liberty of Grange which extended out into the Medway estuary.44 The marsh was once divided into two. The western half was until the late 1950s an enclosed, island fresh marsh, with a farm house and garden connected by a causeway to the mainland. The seawall was eventually breached and the marsh reclaimed by river waters. The eastern half was unenclosed saltings now fast being reduced to a mud bank.
The possible existence of a decoy on the eastern part depends solely upon the evidence of an OS map dated 1819. Set in the unenclosed saltings is the form of a four-pipe crab-shaped decoy pond. A map dated 1724 entitled a ‘Plan of the River Medway from Rochester Bridge to Sharpness Point’ by J.P. Dezmarez shows two small indistinct ponds in the area of the ‘decoy’.45
KEITH ROBINSON
A decoy in the salt marsh would be untenable, although a pond within the enclosed western fresh marsh may have been successful before the intense industrialization of the area.
Luddenham Marshes: North TQ 9864 6451; South TQ 9838 6351: two possible decoy ponds were identified from aerial photographs and entered into the KCC HER.46 The site identified to the north shows evidence of a possible pond, but there is no indication of a decoy on the original OS surveyor’s drawings dated early 1800s, tithe maps nor apportionments dated 1840, nor in parish registers. There is a pond with an island in the southern position on recent OS maps, and aerial photographs indicate a former enclosure. This area is designated as ‘Pound Field’ in the tithe apportionment, but no pond is delineated on the tithe map. This most likely describes an animal enclosure rather than deriving from a pond. The more recent pond with an island probably indicates a flight pond
for shooting.
The peak and decline of English duck decoys
Decoy ponds depended for their success on being secluded and undisturbed. Many ponds did not appear on estate maps nor indeed on Ordnance Survey maps. Decoymen were notorious for their jealous attitude towards their ducks and denied access to their ponds.
Decoymen, especially those employed on a piece rate basis, usually maintained a Decoy Book detailing their takes.47 Unfortunately none of those for Kentish decoys survive. That for Grovehurst, kept by ‘coyman William Chapman, c.1860, was seen by Payne-Gallwey but has since been lost. Chapman’s best figures were 80 ducks in a take, 140 in a day and 2,500 in a season. Former owner Mr Gascoyne recorded that before closure in 1865 the annual take at Grovehurst had declined to 500.48
Ten thousand birds could be taken in a season September-March, though this was rarely achieved by an English decoy. Many Dutch ponds claimed ten thousand birds a year. Two and a half thousand ‘ducks’ is generally considered to be the minimum required to maintain the financial viability of English ponds.
After a number of legal cases in the eighteenth century in which the deliberate disturbance of a decoy was interpreted as a restraint of trade,49 fears of punishment by fines levied in magistrates’ courts protected decoys from disturbance. Ponds maintained to shoot flighting duck were often called decoys to deter interference from local shooters or marauding children.
English duck decoys as commercial ventures had reached their peak by the early nineteenth century. Subsequent decline was rapid. Payne-Gallwey recorded 44 operative in 1886,50 Joseph Whitaker found 21 in 191851 and a survey of 1936 found 16 capable of use, but only 4 still supplying the market.52 The major contributory factors to the decline included the drainage of wetlands and their conversion to agricultural use, disturbance due to increased leisure time within the population and the availability of cheap cartridge loading shot guns.
The decline of English decoys was to the benefit of the Dutch. It was estimated that there had been as many as a thousand decoys in Holland. Payne-Gallwey estimated that 70-80 ponds were still operative in 1886. Dutch regulatory laws, both commercial and for conservation, were far in advance of those in the United
KENTISH DUCK DECOYS
Kingdom. Shot guns could not be discharged within 1,000 yards of a decoy and punt guns were prohibited. Dutch game merchants delivered many thousands of birds into the London market annually. The thousands of acres of coastal mudflat and marsh were a major wintering ground of migratory fowl from Russia and Siberia and the source of Holland’s almost inexhaustible supply of wildfowl to the English markets.53
conclusion
The scheduling of the site of the former duck decoy at High Halstow in 2015 ensured against loss the remains of the last decoy extant in Kent.54 The six sites identified above as probable commercial undertakings compare not unfavourably with the density of decoys in Essex, north of the Thames.
Vast areas of fresh and salt marsh have been lost from the north Kent coast since the early nineteenth century to agriculture and industrial development – the draining of marshland grazing for other agricultural purposes, the destruction of salt marsh to supply raw materials for brick and cement making and the use of reclaimed land for the manufacture of explosives and, later, for oil refining and container storage. These activities, and the greatly increased barge trade, caused disturbance of the open water sanctuaries of the Thames and Medway estuaries and the Swale deterring the teeming flocks of wintering wildfowl which fed the decoys.
William Gascoyne, owner of the last of the Kent decoys operative at Grovehurst until 1865, specifically mentioned these causes as predating its demise. He recorded his own dismantling of the decoy structure, filling in the pond and planting a plum orchard in its place.55
There may have been other decoys in Kent. Decoys are mentioned on the Isle of Sheppey though undetected, probably flight ponds. A decoy at the southern end of the old Wantsum Channel nr Sandwich would possibly have been viable. Old maps often showed a Decoy house, cottage, farm, field or marsh long after the pond had gone. The word decoy may be abbreviated to coy and the pond to coypond or coypon when mentioned in deeds, wills, inventories, accounts or invoices.
acknowledgements
The author wishes to thank Ian Jackson and the late Eric Gillham for their help and encouragement in researching this paper over many years, Dr Pat Reid for her help and advice in its writing and Mike Tillman for help in bringing it to print.
Grateful thanks are also due to the staffs of the Medway Archives, now at Bryant Road, Strood; the Kent History and Library Centre, Maidstone; the Cathedral Archives at Canterbury; the former East Kent Archives at Whitfield, Dover and Sittingbourne Library. Help and encouragement was also received from members of the Faversham Historians, particularly John Owen and the late Dr Arthur Percival.
endnotes
Carpenter, Edward, English Heritage Research Report Series, no. 17 (2014).
Payne-Gallwey, Ralph, The Book of Duck Decoys (1886), Kessinger Legacy Reprint (2008), pp.
4-7.
KEITH ROBINSON
Verstreaten, André, Karelse, Desire and Zwaenepoel, Arnout, Eendenkooien in Vlaanferen en Nederland (2011), pp. 33-34.
Payne-Gallwey, Book of Duck Decoys, pp. 55-56.
Sir Henry Spelman in his posthumously published Icenia (1698) wrote ‘Sir W. Wodehouse (who lived in the reign of James I, 1603-25) made among us the first device for catching DUCKS, known by the foreign name of a koye’. The site of Wodehouse’s pond on his estate at Waxham, Norfolk, has been identified but the exact procedure used in its operation, whether by driving or enticing fowl, is not known.
Norfolk naturalist Thomas Southwell, who assisted Payne-Gallwey, revealed in a lecture before the Norwich and Norfolk Naturalist’s Society in May 1903, and later published in its Transactions, the existence of a Chetham Society publication of 1844 of the travel diaries of Sir William Brereton. The first recorded his ‘Travels in Holland the United Provinces’ during 1634 wherein he described in detail his own decoys on his estate at Handford, Cheshire, which indisputably used a dog to entice the fowl.
Evelyn, John, The Diary of John Evelyn (1818), Everyman’s Library Edition (1945), vol. 1, pp. 396-397.
Payne-Gallwey, Book of Duck Decoys’, pp. 126-127.
Ibid. pp. 79-81.
Cook, A. and Pilcher, R.E.M., The History of Borough Fen Decoy (1982), pp. 42-61.
Payne-Gallwey, Book of Duck Decoys, pp. 12-14.
Ibid. p. 49.
Ibid.
McDonnell, R. R. J., ‘Duck Decoys in Somerset, a Gazetteer’, Somerset Archaeology and Natural History, vol. 128 (1984), pp. 25-30.
Southwell, Thomas, ‘On Some Early Dutch and English Decoys’, Transactions of the Norwich and Norfolk Naturalist’s Society (1903), p. 612.
Ibid., p. 615.
Payne-Gallwey, Book of Duck Decoys, pp. 126-127.
Sittingbourne Library, Milton Regis Parish Chest. Overseers’ Account 1671-1792, P253 Reel 930.
Ibid.
Payne-Gallwey, Book of Duck Decoys, p. 98.
Jordan, Denham, writing as ‘A Son of the Marshes’, Annals of a Fishing Village (1891), p. 21.
Payne-Gallwey, Book of Duck Decoys, p. 100.
Surrey History Centre, Woking, G85/2/1/258.
Kent History and Library Centre, Maidstone, Milton Regis Parish Chest, Church Wardens
Accounts 1607-1694, P253/5/1.
Milton Regis Parish Chest, Overseers’ Account (see note 17).
Ticehurst, Norman, A History of the Birds of Kent (1909), p. 349. (Eric Gillham, pers. comm.,
2 February 2004.)
Northampton Record Office, Ref. WR364.
A Tour into Kent (1759), Berkshire Record Office, D/Amt F5; Jacob, Edward, Plantae Favershamiensis (1777).
Medway Archive Office, Thomas Best Collection, No. U480/T123.
Kent History and Library Centre, Maidstone, S/NK P5.
Medway Archive Office, U480/E61.
Kent History and Library Centre, No. U1105 T1/17.
Ibid. no. R/U1063 T68.
Ibid. no. U1105 T1/23; Scots document probably originated dated c.1777 with additions.
Harrison, James, The Birds of Kent (1953), p. 13.
One of the early means of entrapping ducks was a cage trap – a box-shaped wooden frame clad in netting – which could be set up in the dense reeds on the margin of a creek or pond. Wild duck
KENTISH DUCK DECOYS
were enticed into the trap by corn bait sometimes aided by a live decoy duck behind a net partition. The birds were entrapped by either a portcullis door slowly lowered by the trapper or a funnel shaped entrance through which the birds passed in but were unable to find their way out.
Kent History and Library Centre, copies of letters December 1719 NR/CPL/69/69/7 and July 1720. NR/CPL/69/69/5 sent to Riding Officers at the Decoy House regarding a bale of cotton and some cake soap salvaged from a wreck. British History Online, Warrants for Minor Appointments 1736-7 and 1740 appointing officers to the Decoy House, Rye Port. (Accessed 1 October 2014.)
Eddison, Jill, Romney Marsh – Survival on the frontier (2000), p. 119.
Kent History and Library Centre, S/RM/P7/18 Preparatory sketch for a map of Jury’s Gut watering.
Ibid. Tithe map for Broomfield Parish by Land Surveyor John Adams of Tenterden (1825), no. FTR 1977/8.
Jackson, Ian, ‘The Medway Embankments and in Particular Mr Webb’s Inclosures’, of the North Kent Marshes (2015), pp. 58-72.
Ibid., p. 58.
Eric Gillham, pers. comm. 2 February 2004.
Burgoyne Black, Shirley, A Scholar and a Gentleman: Edward Hasted, the Historian of Kent
(2001), pp. 364-365; Medway Archive Office. Auction particulars, U565/T127.
Maddens, Frank and Draper, Gillian, ‘Out on a Limb’: ‘Insights into Grange, a Small Member of the Cinque Ports Confederation’, Archaeologia Cantiana, 135 (2014), 1-32.
Medway Archive Office (Navigation Collection).
http://webapps.kent.gov.uk/KCC.ExploringKentsPast.
Decoyman’s books may record their catches under individual species or as ‘ducks’. Mallards are larger than other ducks and it was against them the others were measured. The usual combinations being – two wigeon or shovellers, three teal or a pintail and a teal – each equal ‘a duck’. The price received for a dozen ‘ducks’ could be for three dozen teal.
Payne-Gallwey, Book of Duck Decoys, pp. 98, 100.
Simpson, A.W. Brian, Leading Cases in the Common Law (1995), pp. 45-75.
Payne-Gallwey, Book of Duck Decoys.
Whitaker, Joseph, British Duck Decoys of Today (1918).
Gilbert, H.A., ‘British Decoys’, International Wildfowl Inquiry, vol. 1, ed. John Berry (1941), CUP reprint (2011) p. 50.
Payne-Gallwey, Book of Duck Decoys, pp. 197-198.
There are five decoys in good repair which are normally open to the public – Abbotsbury Swannery, Abbotsbury, Dorset; Boarstall Duck Decoy, Boarstall, nr Aylesbury, Bucks.; Borough Fen Decoy, nr Peterborough, Cambs.; Nacton (Orwell Park) Decoy, Nacton, Ipswich; Suffolk and Slimbridge Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust, Slimbridge, Gloucs. Another at Hale, on the River Mersey at Halton, nr Widnes, has been plagued by flooding in recent years. A single pipe has been restored at Fitton Lake Countryworld, nr Great Yarmouth, Norfolk. Access to these sites may require prior arrangement. The survival of these decoys is mostly dependant on their use as bird ringing stations in the study of migration.
Payne-Gallwey, Book of Duck Decoys, p. 99.
WILLIAM THORNBURY (d.1481), VICAR OF FAVERSHAM – AND ANCHORITE?
david lepine
Almost 150 years ago, in 1877, in the pages of this journal, in a pioneering article on anchorites at Faversham, an anonymous author argued that William Thornbury, after resigning the vicarage there in 1476, spent his final years living as an anchorite in the churchyard until his death in 1481.1 This claim has been widely accepted and repeated. Thornbury appears in a standard modern account of medieval recluses, Anne Warren’s Anchorites and their Patrons in Medieval England (1985), and subsequent studies.2 The evidence given by the anonymous author for Thornbury’s inclusion as an anchorite is threefold: an allusion to this in the epitaph at the foot of his monumental brass in Faversham church, a reference to ‘his chapel and parvise in the parish cemetery’ in his last will, and the well-documented presence of anchorites at Faversham in the century before the Reformation. Such renunciation of worldliness by beneficed secular clergy is rare but not unknown, with Thornbury often cited as a prime example. Yet Thornbury’s status as priest-anchorite sits uneasily with his grand monumental brass in the chancel of Faversham parish church. His portrayal there wearing a cope and almuce (a fur hood with long front tassels) beneath an elaborate canopy with his coat of arms prominently displayed suggests that he had not completely renounced the world. This article re-examines the evidence for the claim that Thornbury was an anchorite. Before doing so it is important to set out what is known about his origins, career and monument.
The Thornbury family and Faversham
The Thornbury family – comprising of William and his two brothers, John and Richard – was associated with Faversham for half a century from the mid 1430s to 1488. Its antecedents, however, are obscure – the Faversham Thornburys have no known connection with the more prominent Thornburys of Little Munden, Herts., with whom they are sometimes linked.3 Little is known of the brothers’ parents beyond their names – John and Agnes.4 Although John and Agnes are obscure their sons are comparatively well-documented. Each had a successful career, John (d.1473) in royal service, William (d.1481) in the Church and Richard (d.1488) as a merchant. All three brothers had strong associations with Faversham: William was vicar by 1441;5 John acquired the manor of Ospringe, near Faversham, in 1433, and soon afterwards became a freeman of the town;6 and Richard was styled ‘of Faversham, recently of London, draper’ in 1437.7 Each held property in the
WILLIAM THORNBURY (d.1481), VICAR OF FAVERSHAM – AND ANCHORITE?
town or surrounding countryside.8 Their connection with the town, however, lasted only one generation as neither John nor Richard had male heirs.
Much of what we know about the Thornbury family derives from John’s career.9 This suggests that they were rising Kent gentry, albeit a family that owed its status more to marriage and service than the possession of its own landed estates. John may have begun his career as a soldier in the 1420s. By December 1433, when he acquired the manor of Ospringe through his second wife, Margery, the widow of Thomas Poultney, John Thornbury’s gentry status was assured; in 1435 he held lands in Kent worth £20 a year. Some of these lands may have been in Goodnestone as he was styled as ‘recently of Goodnestone next Faversham’ in 1437.10 By 1438 he had made a further advantageous marriage, to Anne (d.1460), the daughter of John Thorlegh of West Grinstead (Sussex) and the widow of Richard Halsham of West Grinstead.11 That year Richard’s brother, Sir Hugh Halsham (d.1442), settled on her a life interest in the manor of Collingbourne Valence (Wilts.) valued at £10.12 Also that year John received his first royal commission, to investigate grain hoarding in Kent.13 One of his fellow commissioners was Sir Richard Waller of Groombridge (d.c.1462), a distinguished soldier and, through his service to Cardinal Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester (d.1447), a leading member of the Beaufort affinity in Kent in the 1430s and 1440s.14 On withdrawing from military campaigning in 1431, Waller entered royal service as sheriff of Surrey and Sussex in 1433-4 and Kent in 1437-8. His Beaufort service began in 1434 and from 1439 to 1447 he was master of Cardinal Beaufort’s household. John Thornbury seems to have been a protégé of Waller and it was probably through him that he entered Beaufort and royal service. His association with Richard Waller continued in 1442 when both served as feoffees of Sir Walter Moyle (d.1480), a justice of the king’s bench.15 Their association probably arose from geographical proximity. In 1446 Thornbury was styled as ‘of Speldhurst parish’, the parish in which the Wallers’ principal residence, Groombridge Place, was located.16
John Thornbury followed Waller in serving both the crown and the Beaufort family. He was escheator of Hampshire and Wiltshire in 1438-9, for Essex and Hertfordshire in 1441-2 and sheriff of Kent in 1445-6. In 1450 he obtained a pardon following Jack Cade’s revolt, though it is doubtful that he was actively involved as his career was not interrupted.17 Between 1451 and 1454 he served as receiver of Queen Margaret’s Kent estates of Milton Regis and Marden. He was MP for Kent in the 1453-4 parliament and went on to be escheator of the county from 1456 to 1458. His Beaufort service began in 1441 when he was appointed bailiff of the bishop’s liberty in Hampshire and, in 1442, keeper of Bishop’s Waltham (Hants.). Subsequently, in 1448-9, he was a member of the retinue of Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset.18 Thornbury’s royal service was exclusively Lancastrian. Although he was pardoned for being a member of the ‘Lancastrian affinity’ in 1462 and 1468, he did not hold royal office after 1460.19 As we shall see, John Thornbury’s Waller and Beaufort connections served his brother William well.
Several conclusions about the Thornbury family’s geographical origins and social status can be drawn from this outline of John’s career. It seems likely that the family’s origins were in Kent, either at Goodnestone or Speldhurst, but by 1433 John had settled at Ospringe and in 1450 was styled as ‘of Faversham’. His links with Hampshire and Wiltshire came through marriage and service rather
DAVID LEPINE
than inherited family estates there. As his advantageous marriages suggest, the Thornburys were a gentry family. From 1438 John is consistently styled esquire.20 However, the obscurity of earlier generations of the family suggests they were of parish rather than county importance; his brother Richard styled himself gentleman rather than esquire. John’s successful career in royal and Beaufort service raised the family’s status and enabled his only child, his daughter Philippa, to make a succession of advantageous marriages to prominent gentry families: first to John Pympe (d.1454) of Nettlestead, second to Sir William Tyrell (d.1471) of Rawreth (Essex), and third to Sir John Guildford (d.1493) of Rolvenden.21 The family’s arms – Argent on a bend engrailed Sable three roundels Ermine – are known from William’s brass. The same arms are recorded for ‘John Thornebery of Sowthereych’ in a mid-fifteenth-century roll of arms.22 This probably refers to John Thornbury of Faversham, though Sowthereych has not yet been located. The Thornbury arms were also displayed in the glass of Faversham parish church where they appeared impaled with Thorlegh – Vert nine ecallops, three, three, two, one Or – the arms of John Thornbury’s third wife, Anne (Fig. 1).23 Richard Thornbury was also armigerous and left instructions for his arms to be inscribed on his brass in Faversham Abbey.24
William Thornbury’s career in the Church
image
William Thornbury’s early life and career in the Church are as obscure as his family ancestry. Nothing is known of his education except that he was not a university graduate. He first appears in the records as William Thornbury, clerk, in 1435 when he acted as a feoffee of his brother Richard.25 By May 1441 he was a successful cleric in possession of a benefice, the vicarage of Faversham, which he held for thirty-five years.26 He was probably already established near Faversham by this time as in 1437 he was accused of detaining livestock worth
Fig. 1 The arms of Thornbury impaled with Thorlegh, formerly in Faversham church. (Jacob, History of Faversham, 1774, pl. 10.)
WILLIAM THORNBURY (d.1481), VICAR OF FAVERSHAM – AND ANCHORITE?
twenty marks at Langedon, near Faversham.27 Langedon is a settlement in the parish of Goodnestone where his brother John had interests.
By 1443 Thornbury had entered the service of Cardinal Beaufort as one of his chaplains, perhaps on the recommendation of his brother John who was already employed by the cardinal.28 If, as is likely, William’s association with Cardinal Beaufort began before 1443 it may well have facilitated his appointment to Faversham. The church was appropriated (annexed) to St Augustine’s Abbey, Cant- erbury, which appointed the vicar. The abbey regarded Beaufort as an important benefactor. In his will Beaufort remitted a substantial loan of 500 marks (£366 13s. 4d.) and made generous payments to the abbot and monks to pray for his soul.29 Once in Beaufort’s service, William Thornbury sought to advance his career by obtaining a dispensation for pluralism. His licence, granted on 6 June 1443, allowed him to hold two incompatible benefices (those with cure of souls) to the value of £50 for the rest of his life and to exchange them as he wished.30 From 1446 he usually held two benefices simultaneously. In June that year he became rector of Eythorne, Kent, and subsequently, between 1446 and 1453, he was instituted to the vicarage of Eastchurch.31 There is no record of his appointment to Eastchurch but in November 1453 he resigned it and was instituted to the rectory of St Peter’s, Sandwich.32 Twelve years later, in 1465, he exchanged St Peter’s for the vicarage of Chislet, which he probably retained until 1481.33
Thornbury was a moderately successful cleric, a small-scale pluralist who did not acquire canonries in collegiate or cathedral churches or move into the service of another bishop. For most of his career he enjoyed a comfortable income from two benefices ranging from £32 to £56 a year. Faversham was valued at £26 17s. 4½d. in the Valor Ecclesiasticus of 1535 and Chislet at £30 0s. 0d.34 Eythorne, was assessed at £16 0s. 0d., Eastchurch, at 20 marks (£13 6s. 8d.), and St Peter’s, Sandwich, at £8 0s. 0d.35 Thornbury’s income was substantially higher than most parochial incumbents; in 1535 three-quarters of parochial benefices were worth less than
£15 and half less than £10.36 An income of £30-50 matched that of the better off lesser gentry of fifteenth-century England, the esquires and prosperous gentlemen.37 Birth and his brother’s connections gave Thornbury access to benefices. The patron who presented him to Eythorne in 1446 was Edward Guildford (d.1448), whose son Sir John Guildford married Richard Waller’s daughter and later William’s niece Philippa, the daughter of his brother John.38 Eastchurch was appropriated to Boxley Abbey, where John Thornbury had a chamber.39 The patron of Thornbury’s last two benefices, St Peter’s, Sandwich, and Chislet, was St Augustine’s Abbey, Canterbury, which had already presented him to Faversham.40 Although all Thornbury’s benefices were in the diocese of Canterbury, most were some distance from Faversham and it is unlikely that he served them personally. Only Eastchurch, on the Isle of Sheppey, was within a few miles, but the journey there required a ferry across the Swale. In most of his benefices he was an absentee incumbent, albeit with a papal dispensation for plurality and from 1453 a papal licence for non-residence for life.41
Despite his dispensation for absence, there is solid evidence that Thornbury was resident at Faversham and undertook his pastoral duties there. In 1459 he, together with the churchwardens and mayor, purchased a new tenor bell for the parish church, whereas in March 1441 the vicar was not involved when five new bells were bought.42 The vicarage was Thornbury’s principal residence, at least towards
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the end of his life and probably earlier; in 1473 his brother John bequeathed to him a silver salt cellar, a gilt cup and ‘all other things of myn that is in his owne place att the vikerage of Faversham’.43 Thornbury’s burial in the chancel close to the high altar and provisions for his soul in his parish church is a further indication of his attachment to Faversham; pluralist incumbents like him were usually buried in churches they had a particular connection with. Thornbury’s tenure of the vicarage was unusually long-lasting. He was vicar for thirty-five years whereas many of his immediate predecessors had been short-lived.44 Thornbury’s links with Faversham were strengthened by the property he held in the town, two tenements in Middle Row.45 In addition, he was sufficiently respectful of the civic life of the town to make provision for the attendance of the mayor at his obit.46
Yet, although he was resident in Faversham, the fifty or so surviving wills from the period 1448-81 do not suggest that Thornbury developed strong pastoral ties with his parishioners. Only one testator made a bequest to him, a modest 12d., and none appointed him to positions of trust, either as executor or supervisor of their wills.47 In this respect Thornbury seems to have been a rather aloof figure. He did, however, include one leading citizen of Faversham, Simon Orewell the younger, a brewer, among the feoffees of his property whom he appointed in August 1474.48 Instead, the positions of trust held by Thornbury reflected his gentry status. In 1443 he acted as the feoffee of Thomas Burgeys, esquire, and his wife Anne.49 Fourteen years later he again acted for Anne whose first husband had been John Martyn (d. 1436), justice of the court of common pleas.50
Thornbury’s last years have been much misunderstood, and are complicated by what appears to be conflicting evidence. He had resigned the vicarage of Faversham by 16 October 1476, when his successor was instituted, in order, the anonymous author has argued, to become an anchorite. It is more likely, however, that his resignation was, in effect, his retirement, perhaps caused by worsening health or old age – he had been vicar for thirty-five years and was probably about sixty years old.51 According to the 1877 translation of his epitaph (which is discussed more fully below), he died on 23 March 1480/1. In the next line of his epitaph he is said to have been vicar for ‘binis vicenis … annis’ – either twenty-two or forty years as ‘binus’ can be translated as either two or twice – and to have lived a further eight years (in the anonymous author’s view as an anchorite). Yet it is hard to reconcile these dates with what is known of his life. The date of his death is plausible given that he drew up his last will three months earlier, on 7 December 1480. But he was vicar for more than twenty-two years but not as long as forty and died four years after his resignation not eight years later. The date on which his last will (disposing of his lands and tenements) was proved, 19 March 1483/4, three years after his death (and eight years after he resigned as vicar), adds a further complication, but one that can probably be explained by delays in the administration of his estate; Thornbury’s testament – setting out his funeral and disposing of his moveable goods – does not survive. Overall, it seems likely that Thornbury died, as his epitaph relates, on 23 March 1480/1.
Thornbury’s monumental brass
William Thornbury’s brass occupies a prominent and privileged position in the chancel, close to the high altar (Fig. 2). Despite significant damage, it is still an
WILLIAM THORNBURY (d.1481), VICAR OF FAVERSHAM – AND ANCHORITE?
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Fig. 2 The monumental brass of William Thornbury (d.1481) in Faversham church. (Photo © author.)
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imposing monument. Using a range of embellishments, it commemorates him as a pious high-ranking cleric, not as an anchorite who has renounced the trappings of ecclesiastical success for an austere cell. Its scale and decoration were designed to impress. The brass, a product of the London F workshop52 which was active in the last quarter of the fifteenth century, is set in a very large slab, 2540 x 1219
mm. It consists of an effigy, with a scroll above the head, beneath a single canopy with two pinnacles. Eight scrolls, four on each side, flank the slender shafts of the canopy and there is a shield in each corner of the slab and a twelve-line Latin epitaph at the foot of the effigy. Like many brasses, it has been ravaged by time: the canopy, almost all of the pinnacles, the upper parts of the shafts, the shields and the flanking scrolls have been lost. In addition, in 1832 the lower part of the slab was used to mark the burial place of John Bax and his wife. Some of this damage, which broke the slab in two, was probably caused either by the raising of the chancel floor in 1754-5 or the relaying of it ‘with old monumental slabs’ in the course of the 1874-5 restoration by Christian.53 Currently, the north choir stalls cover the right-hand edge of the slab. Fortunately, Thomas Fisher’s drawing of the brass, dating from between 1795 and 1805, conveys its original splendour and records the heraldry of the upper two shields and three of the flanking scrolls (Fig. 3).
The twin themes projected by Thornbury’s brass are his status and his piety. Canopies on brasses, which derived from the microarchitecture of church facades and shrines, were a general mark of status.54 A clearer statement of Thornbury’s social rank, his armigerous status, is made by the four shields at each corner. Fisher’s drawing shows that the upper two contained the Thornbury arms – Argent on a bend engrailed Sable three roundels Ermine – and the lower two may also have depicted them. Thornbury was concerned to show his ecclesiastical status as well as his social status. This was achieved by the vestments he is depicted wearing in his effigy. He is not shown robed in Mass vestments – an indication of his priestly status – as most clergy were, but wearing an embroidered processional cope fastened with a morse. It was usually the higher clergy – the canons and dignitaries of collegiate and cathedral churches – who chose to be depicted wearing a cope as a mark of their status. Furthermore, Thornbury is shown wearing an almuce which is clearly visible around his neck, its tassels extending below the sleeves of his surplice. The wearing of an almuce was a highly valued privilege confined to canons and dignitaries. It is not clear why Thornbury is shown wearing one as he is not known to have held any canonries.55 The most likely explanation is that his service to Cardinal Beaufort entitled him to wear one. In the early fifteenth century several magnates – including Beaufort’s nephew John, Duke of Bedford – sought and received papal licences for their household chaplains to wear them and it is likely that chaplains of cardinals had the same privilege.56
Thornbury’s piety is largely conveyed by the scrolls on his brass. Rather than rely on the stock phrases found on many scrolls, those on Thornbury’s brass were chosen with care. Above his head a scroll affirms his faith in the Church and the saints, quoting from the Apostolic Creed, ‘Credo i[n] s[an]c[t]am eccl[es]iam catholica[m] s[an]c[t]o[ru]m com[mu]nionem (I believe in the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints)’. Although an unusual inscription on a monument, this is an entirely orthodox expression. The eight flanking short scrolls
WILLIAM THORNBURY (d.1481), VICAR OF FAVERSHAM – AND ANCHORITE?
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Fig. 3 Thomas Fisher’s drawing of the Thornbury brass (Fisher (Kent) 1/97).
(© The Society of Antiquaries of London.)
are harder to interpret but equally orthodox. Fisher records the second and third on the left hand side as ‘Domini’ and ‘Ineternum’ (an elided version of In aeternum) respectively. Reading them vertically, the four left hand scrolls may originally have read ‘Misericordias’ ‘Domini’ ‘In aeternum’ ‘Cantabo’ (I will sing of the mercies of the Lord for ever) from Psalm 88:2. With only one known, the right- hand scrolls are more elusive. The second scroll reads ‘Apud eum’. Perhaps this
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was part of Psalm 129:7, familiar from the Vespers of the Dead (the Placebo), ‘et copiosa apud eum redemptio (and with him plentiful redemption)’ but this does not include a fourth scroll. Both of these suggested scroll inscriptions invoking God’s mercy and forgiveness were fitting for a tomb seeking prayers for the soul of the deceased.
At the foot of Thornbury’s effigy there is a twelve-line Latin verse epitaph (Fig. 4). The accompanying translation does not attempt to scan or rhyme:
Hic iacet electus Willelm[us] Thornbury tectus Marmore deiectus heu mortis vi [quo]q[ue] rectus. Ap[ri]lis deno luce cessit ab hac q[ue] kalendas Anno milleno quatuor cent bis quat[er] addas
X, istis binis vicenis rexit et annis
Eccl[es]iam, simul octo sedens hic corpore stannis. Cui[us] nos a[n]i[m]e rogitem[us] cunctipotentem Ut p[re]cibus n[ost]ris nu[n]c miserere velit.
Vermibus ut donor sic hic ostendere conor Et sicut hic ponor ponit[ur] omnis honor.
Hinc tu qui transis magn[us] medius puer an sis Pro me funde preces ut sit michi venie spes.
(Here lies William Thornbury, elect and righteous, covered By marble, felled, alas, by the power of death.
On the tenth of the kalends of April [23 March] he departed hence from the
light
In the year one thousand four hundred, twice four, add
Ten [i.e. 1480/1], to these, two times twenty years he ruled
The church, at the same time for eight years, sitting here bodily in [these]
stalls.
Let us now beseech the Almighty that by our prayers He may be merciful on his soul.
Here I am given to worms, as here I attempt to show And as I am laid here, so all honour is laid down.
You who pass by here, whether old, middle aged or a child
Offer prayers for me, that I may have hope of pardon.)
Written in hexameters with leonine (internal) rhymes in the first two lines, line 5 and lines 9 to 12, it is a curious mixture of stock phrases and impenetrable Latin.57 Most of it is made up of standard components, the deceased’s date of death, meditations on death and requests for prayers. The opening two lines are a variation on a common theme, the deceased lies beneath the gravestone, overcome by death. However, the description of Thornbury as ‘electus’ is noteworthy as this is usually only found in the inscriptions of bishops and abbots who (in theory) were chosen by their communities. This use of electus is theological, to mean
WILLIAM THORNBURY (d.1481), VICAR OF FAVERSHAM – AND ANCHORITE?
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Fig. 4 The Latin verse epitaph at the foot of William Thornbury’s brass. (Photo © author.)
chosen for salvation. It was probably used because it rhymed with tectus. The demands of meter and rhyme also determined the rather convoluted wording of the year of his death, 1480/1, ‘the year one thousand four hundred twice four add ten’. Lines 5 and 6 are, as we have seen, problematic. In line 5, in the 1877 translation, Thornbury is said to have been vicar for twenty-two years and spent a further eight years as an anchorite. As discussed earlier, these time periods are difficult to reconcile with what is known of Thornbury’s life. It is possible that ‘binis’ in line 5 is being used to mean twice rather than two, that he was vicar (‘ruled this church’) for forty years. Thornbury died roughly forty years after his appointment to Faversham in c.1441, but this interpretation is not consistent with his resignation in 1476. The allusion in line 6 of the 1877 translation to Thornbury becoming an anchorite seems to be a mistranslation of stannis as cells, an interpretation that is discussed at greater length below.
The last six lines of the epitaph are requests for prayers for the soul of the deceased – the primary function of a medieval monument – and a meditation on death. Lines 9 and 10 are standard phrases that are found on other inscriptions, with a minor variation; instead of ‘placed’ (ponor) for worms, Thornbury is ‘given’ (donor) to them.58 These lines are often found alongside images of shrouds. The final two lines, requesting the prayers of passers-by, were also widely used in inscriptions. Epitaphs such as Thornbury’s were increasingly popular in the fifteenth century,
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especially among clergy, and were intended to display status as much as the canopies, pinnacles and coats of arms that decorated their monuments.59 Elaborate rhymes demonstrated their learning and skill in writing Latin verse. A delight in leonine rhymes and ingenious ways of writing the year of death are particular features of these clerical epitaphs. The generally high standard of the Latin of Thornbury’s epitaph raises the question of who wrote it. Was it Thornbury himself? As a non-graduate he may not have had the necessary Latin skills to write polished verse. On the other hand, his limited skill in writing Latin verse would explain the reliance on stock phrases in places. The lack of clarity in lines 5 and 6 may be due to another less skilled author completing the epitaph after his death.
Thornbury’s brass presents him as a successful beneficed cleric with the trappings of worldly and ecclesiastical status: cope, almuce, Latin verse epitaph and coat of arms. The prominence of these badges of status does not suggest that he had renounced them for the austerity of an anchorite’s life, a life enclosed in a small one or two-roomed cell devoted to prayer, meditation, reading and silence, one lived frugally without material comforts.60 How then were anchorites commemorated? This is difficult to establish as very few of their monuments are known. The lack of surviving anchorite monuments is partly because some were buried in their cells, in all probability without any lasting monument. Skeletons have been found in several anchorite cells – a female skeleton was discovered in the cell attached to St Anne’s church, Lewes (Sussex) – and anchorite wills confirm this practice.61 Simon Appulby (d.1537), a London anchorite at All Hallows on the Wall, requested burial ‘within the tombe alredy set and made in the ankerage’.62 Graves were dug in the cells of some anchorites as an aid to contemplation in which they were ultimately buried and rites of enclosure, such as that found in the pontifical of Archbishop Chichele (1413-43), included these graves in the ceremony of inclusion.63
The handful of surviving monuments to anchorites or hermits that can be identified with any degree of certainty are modest or plain.64 The earliest – a small incised slab now in Lincoln Cathedral – commemorates Joan Levirs, a Gilbertine anchoress, and dates from c.1400-20.65 A small brass plate dating from c.1500 at Wellingham (Norfolk) commemorates a hermit, Thomas Leek (Fig. 5). Both memorials are small – 535 x 875mm and 57 x 177mm respectively – and consist only of brief
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Fig. 5 The monumental brass of Thomas Leek (c.1500) at Wellingham (Norfolk). (Lack, Stuchfield and Whittemore, Monumental Brasses of Norfolk (forthcoming).)
WILLIAM THORNBURY (d.1481), VICAR OF FAVERSHAM – AND ANCHORITE?
inscriptions. The former reads ‘Hic iacet ioh[ann]a levirs | anachorita ordi[ni]s s[an]cti | gilb[er]ti cuius a[n]i[m]e p[ro]piciet[ur] d[eu]s | ihesu merci (Here lies Joanna Levirs, anchoress of the order of St Gilbert, on whose soul may God have mercy. Ihesu merci)’ and the latter ‘Hic iacet enim Thomas Leeke Heremita (Here indeed lies Thomas Leeke, hermit)’.66 The mid fifteenth-century brass at Swithland (Leics.) commemorating Agnes Scot – perhaps a female hermit rather than an enclosed anchorite – is something of an exception in that is a large monument that includes an effigy (Fig. 6).67 Agnes is portrayed wearing a long, flowing gown with a veil on her head. Even so, her monument has no visual marks of worldly status. As the inscription makes clear, the brass is as much a commemoration of her patron, Lady Ferrers, as it is of Agnes and its scale probably reflects the wishes of her noble benefactor.
William Thornbury’s brass contrasts strongly not only with what might be termed ‘standard’ anchorite monuments – those of Joan Levirs and Thomas Leek – but also the more elaborate brass of Agnes Scot. It is also strikingly different from the monuments of those secular clergy who chose to be commemorated humbly, the type of commemoration that might be thought fitting for someone who has renounced the world for a life of asceticism and contemplation. John Chaundler (d.1432), rector of Brasted, asked for a marble slab costing 40s. with one word, OBLIVIO carved on it.68 William Talbot (d. 1498), a canon of Southwell (Notts.), is commemorated there with a small slab incised with a scroll reading ‘Hic iacet Willelmus Talbot miser et indignus sacerdos expectans resurrectionem mortuorum sub signus thau (Here lies William Talbot wretched and unworthy priest awaiting the resurrection of the dead under the sign of the tau)’. Other late fifteenth-century Kent clergy of similar social and ecclesiastical status to Thornbury have modest monuments. Both Thomas Fogge (d.1502), the son of Sir John Fogge, at Cheriton and John Tubney (d.1457), archdeacon of St Asaph, at Southfleet where he was rector, were commemorated with small ‘off the peg’ brasses. Fogge’s effigy measures a modest 356 x 114mm and Tubney’s half-effigy 305 x 191mm.
Thornbury the anchorite?
The essence of the anonymous author’s claim that Thornbury became an anchorite is an allusion in the sixth line of his epitaph which, in the translation he used, reads ‘Years eight in cells hard by his limbs he rested. (… simul octo sedens hic corpore stannis.)’. The 1877 author argues that this is a reference to Thornbury’s chapel and parvise in Faversham churchyard, the ‘cells’ in which the former vicar was enclosed. However, as has been suggested, this translation is doubtful. The anonymous author relied on a fellow Kent antiquary, Thomas Godfrey-Faussett, to translate the epitaph. His translation of the word ‘stannis’ in line 6 as ‘cells’ is at the heart of the anonymous author’s argument. Godfrey-Faussett cited Du Cange as his authority that ‘stannum’ could be translated as ‘cell’ but a search of stannum and scamnum (of which stannum is a variant) in Du Cange’s Glossarium mediae et infimae Latinitatis does not list this meaning.69 A search of the Dictionary of Medieval Latin from British Sources is equally fruitless.70 The latter gives five translations of stannum/scamnum: bench (for sitting) or chair; counter or market stall; platform or dais; support for a cripple; and an embankment. The use of the
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Fig. 6 The mid fifteenth-century monumental brass of Agnes Scot at Swithland (Leics.). (Photo © Martin Stuchfield.)
WILLIAM THORNBURY (d.1481), VICAR OF FAVERSHAM – AND ANCHORITE?
plural ‘stannis’, cells rather than cell, in the epitaph presents another difficulty. If
it was intended to refer to an anchorite’s dwelling it would be in the singular.71 There are other problems with Godfrey-Faussett’s translation. While sedere can
be used metaphorically to mean remain or abide in a place, its principal meaning ‘to sit’ is to be preferred in this context as it is being used in conjunction with furniture. The translation of hic as ‘hard by’ rather than ‘here’ is also difficult to justify and seems to be a forced allusion to the alleged cells in the churchyard. The most accurate translation of ‘stannis’ in Thornbury’s epitaph is church seating, either pews or stalls. Even with this translation the line – ‘at the same time for eight years sitting here bodily in [these] pews/stalls’ – remains hard to understand. It may be a reference to Thornbury’s retirement, that he is no longer vicar but sits in the pews with the congregation – there was certainly seating for the congregation in the church by 1496 – but this does not explain the reference to eight years.72 Another possible explanation is that it refers is to new choir stalls which had been made eight years earlier but there is no evidence of this. Without Godfrey-Faussett’s translation of ‘stannis’ as ‘cells’, the anonymous author’s claim is hard to sustain. To support the claim the anonymous author presents four other pieces of evidence: Thornbury’s grant of his property to feoffees in 1472; his resignation of the vicarage of Faversham in 1476; the reference to his chapel and parvise in the churchyard; and the presence of an anchorite cell there. All are at best circumstantial and insufficient to claim that Thornbury himself was enclosed. Grants of property by beneficed clergy to feoffees – often, as in Thornbury’s case, to establish an obit or a chantry – were frequent and widespread and cannot be regarded as evidence of preparation for inclusion. Both his brothers had made similar grants, John in 1448 and Richard in 1449; indeed, he acted as feoffee of both.73 Though the resignation of a benefice towards the end of a clerical career was less common than granting property to feoffees, this was still standard practice. Thornbury, who owned several properties in Faversham and came from a gentry family, could afford the loss of income caused by his resignation of the vicarage, especially as he seems to have retained the vicarage of Chislet. His grant to feoffees and resignation are more
likely to indicate advancing age or declining health rather than inclusion.
William Thornbury’s stipulation in his last will that his feoffees were to maintain ‘his chapel and parvise in the churchyard (capella sua et p[ar]vis[us] sui in angl[u] o cimit[er]ii paroch[ianis] ib[ide]m situat[us])’ is not sufficient evidence to say that he was enclosed in it.74 The parvise was probably a porch, though sometimes parvisus is used to mean a chamber or parlour.75 Anchorites’ cells, however, were usually referred to using a range of specialist terms: domus anachoristae, anchoragium, inclusarium and reclusorium.76 Anchorites were usually enclosed in cells rather than chapels, though priest-anchorites either had an altar in their cell or access to one in the church to which they were attached. It is possible that there was an anchorite’s cell attached to the Faversham chapel but there is no evidence of this. The reference to ‘his’ chapel in Thornbury’s last will suggests that he built it or had substantially refurbished it rather than that he was enclosed in it. It was probably one of the two chapels recorded in the churchyard in 1512, a chapel of Our Lady on the south side and a chapel of the Trinity and Our Lady on the north side.77 Chapels in medieval churchyards were not unusual and are recorded in other places such as Bodmin, Chester, Reculver and Sherborne.78
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Horsham (Sussex), like Faversham, a town with a single parish, also had two.79 It was sometimes easier to build a separate chapel in the churchyard than to extend the church. Such chapels were used for a variety of purposes: those at Higham Ferrers (Northants.) and St Mary’s chapel in St John’s Precinct, Chester, were used as schools, and St Anne’s chapel in the same churchyard, was a fraternity chapel.80 The two Faversham chapels had liturgical functions in 1512 and are unlikely to have been used as a cell for an anchorite at that date.81
As the anonymous author’s pioneering work shows, there was a strong anchoritic tradition at Faversham.82 There was an anchorite for much of Thornbury’s time as vicar, from at least 1465. The cell was on the north side of the churchyard, probably abutting on to the church, and was perhaps large enough for a servant.83 The anchoritic tradition at Faversham remained strong and well-supported until the Reformation; parishioners regularly made bequests to the anchorite in their wills.84 But in asserting that William Thornbury was himself enclosed the author goes further than the evidence justifies. Thornbury was certainly a patron of the local anchorite. The arrangements he made for his obit in 1480 included payments of ‘4d. to the anchorite and 2d. to his servant’. It is unlikely that he was referring to himself in this provision. If he had been enclosed in 1476 there would have been two anchorites in Faversham churchyard in the late 1470s, Thornbury himself and the anchorite he included in his obit.
Finally, in assessing the case for Thornbury’s inclusion it is helpful to set out what is known about other beneficed clergy who became anchorites. Although many priests became anchorites most of them were either unbeneficed or regulars (either monks or friars) seeking a more austere solitary life. Few beneficed clergy gave up their benefices to become anchorites.85 The best documented is William Bolle, rector of Aldington (Sussex). In 1402 he resigned his rectory and was enclosed on the north side of Chichester Cathedral. His cell was comparatively roomy, 26 x 29ft and had access to the Lady Chapel so that he could say mass there.86 By the time Bolle was enclosed the process of inclusion had come under episcopal supervision and required the consent of the bishop as well as the patron and incumbent of the church concerned. Episcopal oversight, set out in William Lyndwood’s Provinciale (an authoritative mid-fifteenth century compilation of canon law), focused on three elements: the character and fitness of the candidate for inclusion; the provision of a suitable cell; and the provision of sufficient financial support.87 Once episcopal consent had been given, a rite of enclosure was performed at the end of which the door of the anchorite’s cell was blocked up. Bolle’s inclusion is recorded in the bishop of Chichester’s register, but such proceedings – which were usually delegated to diocesan officials – are poorly recorded. Even so, there is no record in the register of Archbishop Bourgchier (1454-86) of any commission to assess Thornbury’s suitability for inclusion or any suggestion that he resigned Faversham in order to be enclosed. What little evidence there is of Thornbury’s final years suggests that far from turning away from the world he remained very much engaged with it. In 1480 he pursued John Bonaunter, a chaplain from Reculver, and Reginald Norman, a husbandman from Harbledown, in the court of common pleas for a debt of £20.88
WILLIAM THORNBURY (d.1481), VICAR OF FAVERSHAM – AND ANCHORITE?
conclusion
The anonymous author’s contention that William Thornbury resigned the vicarage of Faversham and spent his final years as an anchorite in his chapel in Faversham churchyard, though widely repeated, cannot be upheld. It is perhaps significant that earlier antiquaries did not come to this conclusion. John Lewis (d.1747), who in his history of Faversham abbey and church drew attention to ‘the fashion of those superstitious times’, made no mention of the epitaph but did comment, with some disdain, on the scroll above his head, ‘… the modish way of expressing this Article [of the Creed], to countenance the new Notion of the Infallible Authority of the clergy’.89 And Rotha Mary Clay, the doyenne of anchorite scholars, was circumspect, noting that ‘the meaning of his epitaph is obscure’ but she did conclude that ‘it seems probable’ that he became an anchorite.90 The author’s claim is based on a mistranslation of his epitaph. Thomas Godfrey-Faussett’s translation of ‘stannis/scamnis’ as cells is not supported by the authority he cites, Du Cange. His translation seems to have been unduly influenced by the supporting evidence presented by the anonymous author. Even taken together none of this evidence can be regarded as sufficient to show that Thornbury himself was enclosed. His brass does not reflect the life of withdrawal, asceticism and contemplation sought by anchorites. Rather, William Thornbury was the figure he is portrayed as on his brass, a successful beneficed cleric, conscious of his armigerous status and ecclesiastical rank. His piety, as reflected in the scrolls on his brass and the provisions he made for his soul, was orthodox and typical. It articulates the widespread late medieval anxiety about death, judgement and purgatory and the fervent desire that the faithful would indeed ‘Offer prayers for me, that I may have hope of pardon’.
acknowledgements
The author is most grateful to Stephen Freeth for his advice on Thornbury’s inscription and to him, Nicholas Orme, Robert Tibbott and Paul Saunders for help in translating it; to Nicholas Rogers for sharing his ideas on the commemoration of anchorites; and to Martin Stuchfield for his help with the illustrations.
endnotes
Anon, 1877, ‘Anchorites in Faversham Churchyard’, Archaeologia Cantiana, xi, 24-39.
Warren, 1985, Anchorites and their Patrons in Medieval England (Berkley), pp. 259-60, 267; M.M. Sauer, 2016, ‘Extra-temporal Place Attachment and Adaptive Reuse: The Afterlives of Medieval Anchorholds’, in Studies in Medievalism 25, pp. 173-190, at 185.
C. Rawcliffe, 1992, ‘Thornbury, Sir Philip (d. 1457), of Little Munden and Bygrave, Herts.’, in
The House of Commons 1384-1421, ed. J.S. Roskell, 4 vols (Stroud), IV, p. 591.
Maidstone, Kent History Centre, PRC 17/5 ff. 73v-74r.
CPR, 1446-52, p. 364.
D.I. Grummitt, 2020, ‘Thornbury, John (d. 1473), of Ospringe and Faversham, Kent’, in The House of Commons 1422-61, ed. L. Clark, 7 vols (Cambridge), VII, pp. 47-9.
TNA, CP 40/705 accessed on 5 April 2021 through the Anglo-American Legal Tradition website (front no. 583) http://aalt.law.uh.edu/AALT1/H6/CP40no705/aCP40no705fronts/IMG_0583.htm.
At his death John Thornbury held land in Syndon in the parish of Ospringe and in Harty on the Isle of Sheppey and an inn in Faversham (TNA, PROB 11/6/202). Both Richard and William Thornbury held property in Faversham (PRC 17/3 f. 494; PRC 17/5 ff. 73v-74r).
DAVID LEPINE
Grummitt, ‘Thornbury, John’, pp. 47-9, on which this and the next paragraph are largely based.
CP 40/705 accessed on 5 April 2021 through the Anglo-American Legal Tradition website (front no. 714) http://aalt.law.uh.edu/AALT1/H6/CP40no705/aCP40no705fronts/IMG_0714.htm.
D.G.C. Elwes and C.J. Robinson, 1876, A History of the Castles, Mansions and Manors in Western Sussex (London), p. 284; J.R. Scott, 1876, Memorials of the Family of Scott of Scot’s-Hall in the County of Kent (London), pp. 142-3.
CPR, 1436-41, pp. 161, 164; IQPM, vol. 20, nos 345-8.
CPR, 1436-41, p. 266.
A.F. Pollard, rev. E.L. O’Brien, ‘Waller, Richard (c. 1395-c. 1462)’, ODNB online edn, ref: odnb/28560 accessed 2 February 2021; M. Mercer, 1999, ‘Lancastrian Loyalism in Kent during the Wars of the Roses’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxix, 221-43 at 224-9.
TNA, CP 25/1/293/70 no. 268.
CCR, 1441-7, p. 450.
CPR, 1446-52, p. 364.
G.L. Harriss, 1989, Cardinal Beaufort, A Study in Lancastrian Ascendancy and Decline
(Oxford), p. 362; Forty-Eighth Report of the Deputy Keeper of the Public Records (London, 1887),
p. 379.
Pardon Rolls of Edward IV and Henry VI 1468-71, ed. H. Kleineke (List and Index Society, vol.
360 (2019), no. 1316.
CPR, 1436-41, p. 161.
M. Mercer, ‘Kent and National Politics, 1437-1534: The Royal Affinity and A County Elite’,
unpubl. ph.d. thesis, University of London, 1994, pp. 103-4.
Dictionary of British Arms: Medieval Ordinary, eds D.H.B. Chesshyre, T. Woodcock, J. Grant,
I. Graham, S. Flowers and T. Chalmers, 4 vols (London, 1992-2015), II, p. 55.
E. Jacob, 1774, The History of the Town and Port of Faversham in the County of Kent (London),
p. 49, pl. 10; Dictionary of British Arms: Medieval Ordinary, eds Chesshyre et al., III, p. 262.
PRC 17/5 ff. 73v-74r.
CP 25/1/115/309 no. 382.
CPL, 1431-47, 235. There is no record of Thornbury’s institution to Faversham but he was probably appointed a few months earlier. His predecessor, John Brampton, probably died in 1441 as his last known benefice was vacant by October 1441 (A.B. Emden, A Biographical Register of the University of Oxford, 3 vols (Oxford, 1957-9), I, p. 248).
CP 40/705 accessed on 5 April 2021 through the Anglo-American Legal Tradition website (dorse n. 1339) http://aalt.law.uh.edu/AALT1/H6/CP40no705/bCP40no705dorses/IMG_1339.htm.
CPL, 1431-47, p. 334.
London, Lambeth Palace Library [LPL], Reg. Stafford, f. 111v.
CPL, 1431-47, pp. 334, 362.
Reg. Stafford, f. 89v.
LPL, Reg. Kempe, f. 326r.
A new vicar was appointed on the death of his predecessor on 27 March 1481 (Registrum Thome Bourgchier Cantuariensis Archepiscopi, A.D. 1454-86, ed. F.R.H. Du Boulay, Canterbury and York Society 54 (1957), p. 347).
Valor Ecclesiasticus Temp. Henry VIII: Auctoritate Regia Institutus, eds J. Caley and J. Hunter, 6 vols (London, 1810-34), I, pp. 69, 35.
Valor Ecclesiasticus, I, pp. 44, 79, 43.
P. Heath, English Parish Clergy on the Eve of the Reformation (London, 1969), p. 173.
C. Dyer, 1989, Standards of Living in the Later Middle Ages: Social Change in England c.1200- 1520 (Cambridge), pp. 31-2.
Reg. Stafford, f. 89v.
Reg. Kempe, f. 326r. His will refers to ‘his chamber at Boxlee’ (PROB 11/6/202).
Reg. Bourgchier, ed. Du Boulay, p. 279.
CPL, 1447-55, p. 141.
WILLIAM THORNBURY (d.1481), VICAR OF FAVERSHAM – AND ANCHORITE?
Royal Commission on Historical Manuscripts, Sixth Report, 2 vols (London, 1877-8), I, pp. 509-10.
PROB 11/6/202.
In the 1420s there was a succession of five brief tenures, the longest lasting three years (The Register of Henry Chichele, Archbishop of Canterbury, ed. E.F. Jacob, 4 vols, Canterbury and York Society 42, 45-7 (1937-47), I, pp. 199-200, 205-7, 230, 252).
Royal Commission on Historical Manuscripts, Sixth Report, I, p. 510.
PRC 17/3 f. 494.
PRC 17/1 f. 96r.
Royal Commission on Historical Manuscripts, Sixth Report, I, p. 510.
TNA CP 25/1/115/317 no. 584.
Canterbury, Canterbury Cathedral Archives, DCc-ChAnt/W/216.
This is based on the assumption that he was ordained priest (for which the minimum age was 24) around the time he became vicar of Faversham.
There was a succession of workshops active in London which have been identified on stylistic
grounds and given letters of the alphabet to distinguish them.
Jacobs, Town and Port of Faversham, p. 46; F.F. Giraud and C.E. Donne, 1876, The Visitor’s Guide to Faversham (Faversham), pp. 54-5.
N.E. Saul, 2009, English Church Monuments in the Middle Ages: History and Representation
(Oxford), pp. 154-62.
It is also possible that he may have held a canonry in a Kent collegiate church such as Wingham or Wye as full lists of their canons have yet to be established.
CPL, 1417-31, pp. 384-5.
For a discussion of medieval inscriptions see J. Bertram, Icon and Epigraphy: The Meaning of European Brasses and Slabs, 2 vols (s.l., 2014).
Bertram, Icon and Epigraphy, I, pp. 116-20.
Saul, English Church Monuments, pp. 347-65.
Hermits and Anchorites in England, 1200-1550, ed. E.A. Jones (Manchester, 2019), pp. 66-8, 73-8.
R. Gilchrist and B. Sloane, 2005, Requiem: The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain
(London), p. 131.
M.C. Erler, 1998, ‘A London Anchorite, Simon Appulby: His Fruyte of Redempcyon and its Milieu’, Viator, 29, pp. 227-39, at 239.
E.A. Jones, 2012, ‘Rites of Enclosure: The English “Ordines” For the Enclosing of Anchorites
S. XII – S. XVI’, Traditio, 67, pp. 145-243, at 151, 160-3, 199-205. The practice is also found in some twelfth-century rites.
A twelfth- or early thirteenth-century inscription on an arch now in the churchyard of St John sub Castro, Lewes, is thought to commemorate Magnus, a Danish prince-anchorite.
N.J. Rogers, 2008, ‘Portfolio of Small Plates’, Transactions of the Monumental Brass Society, 17:6, pp. 607-8.
W. Lack, H.M. Stuchfield and P. Whittemore, The Monumental Brasses of Norfolk (forthcoming).
K. Wilson-Lee, 2009, ‘A Fifteenth-Century Brass at Swithland and the Commemoration of Female Religious in Late-Medieval England’, Transactions of the Monumental Brass Society, 18:1,
pp. 25-35.
Register of Henry Chichele, ed. Jacob, II, pp. 450-1.
ducange.enc.sorbonne.fr.
Dictionary of Medieval Latin from British Sources, prep. R.E. Latham, 17 vols (London: 1975- 2013), Available online at https://logeion.uchicago.edu/lexidium
The author is grateful to Stephen Freeth for this suggestion.
A. Hussey, 1907, Testamenta Cantiana, A Series of Extracts from Fifteenth and Sixteenth Century Wills Relating to Church Building and Topography, East Kent (London), p. 121.
CCR, 1447-54, pp. 62, 133.
DAVID LEPINE
74 PRC 17/3 f. 494.
Dictionary of Medieval Latin from British Sources, prep. Latham, s.n. parvisus.
The cell in the churchyard of St Leonard’s, Exeter, was referred to as a cubiculo in 1447 (The Register of Edmund Lacy, Bishop of Exeter, 1420-1455, ed. G.R. Dunstan, 5 vols (Canterbury and York Society, 60-3, 66 1963-72), II, p. 395).
Hussey, Testamenta Cantiana East Kent, pp. 127-8.
N.I. Orme, 1996, ‘Church and Chapel in Medieval England’, Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, sixth series, 6, pp. 75-102 at 87, 92. An archaeological investigation of the churchyard in 2007 found evidence of walls and possibly some vaults (‘Archaeological Evaluation, Excavation and Watching Brief at the Church of St Mary of Charity, Faversham, Kent’, unpubl. report by the Swale and Thames Archaeological Survey Company, 2007, ref SKE 18023).
Transcripts of Sussex Wills, ed. R.G. Rice and W.H. Godfrey, 4 vols, Sussex Record Society, 41-3, 45 (1935-41), II, p. 345.
VCH Cheshire, V part 2, pp. 156-9.
The chapel on the south side of the churchyard was used for burials and bequests to both chapels suggest mass was regularly celebrated in them (Hussey, Testamenta Cantiana East Kent, pp. 127-8).
A much fuller list of benefactions to the Faversham anchorites can be found in Hussey,
Testamenta Cantiana East Kent, pp. 128-9.
There were regular bequests to the servant of the anchorite (Hussey, Testamenta Cantiana East Kent, pp. 128-9). Not all servants of anchorites lived with them.
Hussey, Testamenta Cantiana East Kent, pp. 128-9; Warren, Anchorites and their Patrons, pp. 258-60.
Those seeking a more contemplative life had alternatives to becoming an anchorite such as
entering a religious house.
Warren, Anchorites and their Patrons, pp. 64-5.
Warren, Anchorites and their Patrons, pp. 89-91; Hermits and Anchorites in England, ed. Jones, chapter 1.
CP 40/871 accessed on 5 April 2021 through the Anglo-American Legal Tradition website (front no. 886) http://aalt.law.uh.edu/AALT3/E4/CP40no871/aCP40no871fronts/IMG_0886.htm.
J. Lewis, 1727, The History and Antiquities of the Abbey and Church of Favresham in Kent
(London), pp. 66-9, 73.
R.M. Clay, 1914, The Hermits and Anchorites of England (London), p. 115.
THE ISLE OF THANET AND THE 1642 PROTESTATION OATH
margaret bolton
During the series of political manoeuvrings by King and Commons during the eighteen months leading to the outbreak of the English Civil War, Members of Parliament on 3rd May 1641 swore:
... to maintain and defend ... the true reformed Protestant Religion ... as also the power and privileges of Parliaments ... and to ... oppose and by all good ways and means endeavour to bring to condign punishment all such as shall, either by force, practice, counsels, plots, conspiracies, or otherwise, do anything to the contrary ... .
Two months later they proposed that all men aged eighteen and over throughout the country should take the oath.
In February 1642 the necessary paperwork reached the parishes and men started to take the oath. The parish returns are housed today in the Library of the House of Lords.1 Across Kent, just eighty-five returns survive out of more than 400 parishes but, most fortunately, six of the seven parish returns for the Isle of Thanet survive.
Taking the Oath on Thanet
Table 1 shows the number taking the oath in each parish. Across the island the oath was taken on different dates. On Sunday 13 February, the men of Birchington took the oath in church following Morning Prayer. One hundred and seven signed but ten men were absent: the document notes that they took it the next day. In addition, thirty-six men took it from Wood, twenty-two on the Sunday and twelve the next day. On the same day, the men of St John’s at Margate took the oath with an unspecified number of absentees taking it the following day. A total of three hundred and nineteen declarations were made. At St Peter’s, Broadstairs, the oath was administered on Monday 14 February with two hundred and eighty taking it then and eleven more on the following Sunday. It was noted that one man had refused.2 The parishes of Minster, St Laurence (which included Ramsgate) and St Nicholas at Wade all administered the oath on Sunday 20 February. One person refused at St Nicholas. No effort was made to secure the acceptance of anyone who was absent on that date. No returns exist for Monkton, the parish with the smallest population on the island, fewer than 200.3
The original returns were examined by the author. They do not contain any signatures or marks of those taking the oath except for the last page of the returns
MARGARET BOLTON
TABLE 1. NUMBER TAKING THE PROTESTATION OATH IN THANET
Parish
Signatures
St John
319
St Laurence
302
St Peter
290
Birchington
153
Minster
144
St Nicholas at Wade
112
Monkton
n/a
1,320
for St Peter’s and for St John’s which contain those of the officers who administered the oath and wrote out the lists of names. In each case, the process of administering the oath fell to the clergy and various parish officials.4
Identifying the Oathtakers
Using parish registers, wills, rate assessments, marriage licences, depositions and court records, the author has sought to trace what became of every single person born on the Isle of Thanet from 1559 to 1625 and to reconstitute their families. Thanks to this dataset it has been possible to identify all but fifty-eight of the 1,320 who gave their oath in 1642. Of those untraced, five could not be found because their names were illegible and twelve had surnames which were too common to permit accurate identification.5 More importantly, the list of oathtakers can be analysed to give a detailed picture of Thanet society on the eve of the Civil War and it is these results which are presented in this paper.
Age breakdown
Table 2 shows the age breakdown by parish. Fewer than one in fifty men were over seventy while just over a third were under thirty. There is little difference between the parishes although Minster has a higher proportion of men under thirty at forty- one per cent. This is perhaps not too unsurprising. Life expectancy in the parish was lower, most likely due to malaria from the marshes. Between 1560 and 1620, twenty-two per cent of infants died in their first year of life compared to twelve per cent at St Peter’s and thirteen per cent at St Laurence. Looking at the ages of 2,151 adult men buried on the island between 1600 and 1660, men in Minster generally died five years younger than their compatriots in St Peter’s and St Laurence.
Although the oath was only required of men aged eighteen and over, there is evidence of younger men taking it. Daniel Pamphlet junior was seventeen but he took it alongside his father and elder brother at Minster. Similarly, John Taylor took the oath at Birchington with his father when he was seventeen and three months and so did Richard Kemp with his father William at St Laurence as did Robert Terry at St John’s.
THE ISLE OF THANET AND THE 1642 PROTESTATION OATH
TABLE 2 AGE BREAKDOWN OF THOSE TAKING THE OATH
Age
Birchington
Minster
St John
St Laurence
St Nicholas
St Peter
Total
%
<20
6
9
19
22
5
12
73
6.2
20s
36
41
82
84
28
64
335
28.3
30s
36
23
75
63
22
71
290
24.5
40s
29
27
56
42
18
62
234
19.8
50s
16
13
36
49
7
30
151
12.8
60s
9
7
15
21
6
21
79
6.7
70s
3
1
1
3
1
9
18
1.5
80s
1
1
1
3
0.3
136
122
285
284
87
269
1,183
Occupation
Data on occupation from the sources used is much less full. Nevertheless, it is clear that there is much greater variation amongst parishes, as might be expected (see Table 3). The three coastal parishes of St John, St Laurence and St Peter all have a high proportion of sailors. This category includes both fishermen and those working on trading vessels and ranging from sea captains to cabin boys. At both St Laurence and St Peter, over forty per cent of the men were sailors. The lower number of sailors at St John’s is suspicious and discussed below. It is likely that the lone sailor at Minster was actually retired or sick given the distance from the sea. One of those at Birchington was well over eighty so also probably past work.6 Although the occupation is only known for a minority of the men, the data does give an impression of the nature of these working communities.
TABLE 3. OCCUPATIONAL BREAKDOWN OF THOSE TAKING THE OATH
Birchington
Minster
St John
St Laurence
St Nicholas
St Peter
Grand
Total
%
Craftsmen
16
12
35
18
6
26
113
22.2
Gentlemen
9
3
9
3
5
2
31
6.1
Husbandman
9
16
16
20
8
8
77
15.1
Labourers
2
1
1
4
0.8
Professionals
1
1
2
1
1
2
8
1.6
Sailors
2
1
28
54
45
130
25.5
Yeomen
15
19
34
28
15
25
136
26.7
Misc.*
6
2
2
10
2.0
Total
52
52
132
127
35
111
509
* includes sextons, shepherds, innkeepers and vintners.
MARGARET BOLTON
As occupational information mostly comes from wills and marriage licences, the number of labourers is under-represented. The poorest did not make wills and marriage licences were mostly used by the better off and those whose occupation made it difficult for them to guarantee their availability on a certain date, such as sailors. They would use a licence so they could get married when in port rather than book a wedding after banns in the hope that their ship was not delayed. Of 195 licences granted to Thanet men between 1595 and 1646 where an occupation was given, just over two-thirds went to these two groups.
Mobility
A key question in demography is mobility. In 1972 Peter Clark published a study of the populations of Canterbury, Faversham and Maidstone based on 858 depositions to the consistory court between 1585 and 1628.7 This found that fewer than a third of people were still living as adults in the place of their birth with just over a quarter having been born in other counties. This would suggest a high rate of mobility and Clark suggests that harvest failures of the 1590s were a contributory factor, especially since the landless were those most likely to move in search of work and food.8
The existence of place of birth data for a high proportion of the oath takers – almost ninety per cent – enables us to consider how many men across Thanet in 1642 were living in the parish of their birth and how far those who were not had travelled. The results show a very different picture to that found in Clark’s study of the three towns. Only one in twenty-five of the oath-takers had been born outside the county and over two-thirds were native islanders (Table 4). This was particularly the case in the maritime parishes.
Of the forty-seven oath takers born outside the county, twenty came from London, three from Rye and Hastings, two from Durham and six from Devon and Cornwall, clearly suggesting the significance of maritime links.
When broken down by occupation and age, the data shows that over ninety per cent of sailors were either native islanders or from neighbouring Sandwich. This is not too surprising. An out of work farm labourer in the rural Weald would be unlikely to travel to the coast and even if he did, he would probably find it difficult to find work on a ship given there were plenty of trained seamen in the area. The fact that so many sailors stayed in the area suggests that there was little problem with fish stocks and that maritime trade was generally good.
TABLE 4. A COMPARISON OF MOBILITY SURVEY RESULTS BETWEEN THANET’S PROTESTATION RETURNS AND CLARK’S TOWN SURVEYS
Place of birth
Canterbury
%
Maidstone
%
Faversham
%
Thanet
%
Same parish
196
30.5
47
38.2
18
19.6
526
44.4
Within five miles
43
6.7
15
12.2
17
18.5
391
33.0
Elsewhere in Kent
221
34.4
39
31.7
39
42.4
222
18.7
Outside county
183
28.5
22
17.9
18
19.6
47
4.0
Total
643
123
92
1,186
THE ISLE OF THANET AND THE 1642 PROTESTATION OATH
None of the professionals were natives but clergy – who comprised the majority of this group – were rarely appointed to parishes in their home area. Amongst husbandmen and craftsmen the picture was very similar with just under a fifth of each having been born within Kent, but over five miles away. Whether they moved more because they needed work unavailable in their home areas or because their skills gave them the option to try and better themselves elsewhere, is impossible to say. Blacksmiths and tailors were the most likely craftsmen to have been born on the Kentish mainland. Eighty-five per cent of the teenage men who took the oath had been born on the island which suggests that most young men did not find too much difficulty in finding apprenticeships or work locally,
An important question with regard to mobility is how many of those who moved into the area stayed there. Here, the answer is clear. Just over half of those who travelled furthest remained in the area until their death while three quarters of those born on the island would also die on it. In reality, the number of natives dying while still resident on the island would be higher than the actual figure for burials since many sailors died at sea and their demise can only be known through either wills or the remarriage of their wives who are suddenly listed in parish records as widows or the appearance of their family as recipients of poor relief due to the demise of the breadwinner.
The Protestation was a snapshot in time so it is worth comparing the results of this review of mobility with that of data taken from baptismal and marriage records over a period. Between 1560 and 1620, a total of 4,105 males were baptised across the island. Of these 1,149 died before they reached eighteen (28 per cent); the fate of 831 is unknown (20 per cent). Of the remaining 2,104 men, 1,459 (69 per cent) died on the island with 58 per cent of those who did so being buried in the parish of their birth. Again, it is important to note that the actual number of men who were resident on the island at the time of their death would have been higher. There are gaps in the records for Monkton and St Nicholas and at least one in twenty of those men who reached adulthood but who were not buried on the island, were mariners who died at sea.
Looking at marriages, 2,249 took place on the island between 1600 and 1649 inclusive. The birth details of 1,687 grooms have been traced. Of these 707 (42 per cent) married in the place of their birth and 538 (32 per cent) were native to the island but married in a different parish. 256 (15 per cent) grooms came from the east Kent mainland. Just 35 (2 per cent) came from other counties and the remaining 151 (9 per cent) were born elsewhere in Kent. Of the Thanet-born grooms, 85 per cent died on the island and almost three quarters of those born outside the county settled and died on the Isle of Thanet (74 per cent) but of those who had come from other parts of Kent, around two-thirds stayed (67 per cent). Again, deaths at sea would mean that the actual number living on the island when they died would have been higher. Thus, the Protestation, baptism and marriage data all agree that mobility was considerably lower on the Isle of Thanet than it was in the major towns on the mainland.
Why did people move to the Isle of Thanet? Good weather, a generally healthy environment (away from the marshes), good work prospects and a normally plentiful food supply. Even if the harvest failed, there was still plenty of fish which offered valuable nutrition. It is noteworthy that a number of those who migrated to
MARGARET BOLTON
the island came as a family, either two brothers together or one following the other after the first had settled down. This pattern occurred with the Maxteds who came from Chartham to St Laurence, the Ambroses who moved from Sturry to Minster, the Witherdens from Devon and the Ambertons from Littlebourne. In other cases, whole families moved such as John Cranbrook who was born in Woodnesborough, married and had his children at Walmer, before moving to the island where they settled.
The Missing Men
There is a note on the last page of the return for St John’s:
Some forty or fifty men there may be of this parish who have not as yet taken the protestation but they were at the spreading of it most of them at sea, others were gone out of warning and others so aged or ill that they could not come to tender themselves. But we know not of any in the parish whom we may justly suspect to refuse it when it shall be tendered unto them to take.9
No similar note exists for any of the other parishes and this has led to a general assumption that the lists are complete. The Oxford Guide to Family History describes the returns as ‘remarkably comprehensive’ and a ‘major source of genealogical information’ noting that they include the names of all men aged eighteen and over including ‘the few individuals (determined recusants) who refused to take the oath’.10 However, is this the case? It is an important question. There are no census returns for the period so the returns represent the only listing of adult men in each parish. On the basis that approximately a third of the population were children and around half the adults were male, it should be possible to use the returns as a rough guide to population size by simply trebling the number of names.11 Politically too, the question is vital. Returns show the names of those who refused the oath but if many men happened to absent themselves from church on the day it was administered, the impression of universal acceptance given would be highly misleading.
There are a number of sources which allow us to establish our own lists of men who were resident in each parish at the time in question. Rate assessments for St Laurence and Birchington show the names of ratepayers in the years 1640, 1641 and 1642 and where they lived. Parish registers show the names of couples having children at this time. Wills show places of residence as do court records for those accused of a crime. Of course, such evidence is not absolute.
The following examples indicate some of the men who might reasonably have been expected to have been present to take the oath but whose names do not appear:
Roger Wright, born at St John’s in 1602, he had stood in the church with his wife having their fifth child baptised just a week before the oath was taken, He died in the parish in 1659. A sailor, he may have been at sea.
John Caper (St John’s) had a child baptised after Morning Prayer on the very day that the oath was administered but he then went home with his wife without taking it. This was in contrast to Samuel Tabbott of Minster who attended Morning Prayer, then had his son baptised and finally took the oath. Tabbott died two months later.
THE ISLE OF THANET AND THE 1642 PROTESTATION OATH
The Reverend William Dunkin, vicar of St Laurence parish since 1629, already had four children and his wife was carrying their fifth. He was a man favoured by Archbishop Laud who appointed him Chancellor of Canterbury Cathedral in 163812 and a Six Preacher in 1639. Although Richard Culmer saw Dunkin as politically ‘neuter’13 it might be wondered if his extraordinary decision to leave administering the oath to his churchwardens was deliberate. There was no curate to take the service so either the vicar declined to sign or he cancelled the service. In 1644, the parishioners would successfully petition Parliament for Dunkin’s removal on grounds that he was, in the words of an eye-witness, ‘a drunken, scandalous, railing Priest’.14
The Reverend Meric Casaubon, vicar of Minster, was also missing from the lists but he was a known pluralist and an academic who did not live in the parish.
The Reverend Josiah Coppin, vicar of St Nicholas at Wade, failed to take the oath. Robert Underdown was a pensioner at St Peter’s when he died in November
1643. Born in 1581 and married in 1618, he had had children in the
parish and the fact that he was granted a pension there would support the assumption that he was a long standing resident fallen on hard times and not a newcomer.
Benedict Bennett, born in 1571 at St Laurence, was buried there on 8 June 1642
less than four months after the oath was taken. He may have been ill.
John Barber at Birchington, a yeoman in his sixties, also probably ill, who was
buried on 24 February, eleven days after the oath was taken.
John Sprackling who was aged fifty-six, had been born at St Laurence, married at St John’s in 1621 and had children there. He died six weeks after the oath was taken. Four other Spracklings appear to be missing which could indicate they were at his bedside, or that they were using his illness as an excuse to avoid taking the oath.
Samuel Burgess had married at St Laurence in 1622. His wife died there in 1637 and he re-married in the same church. He had six children with his second wife, the baptisms taking place on 28 April 1639, 11 April 1641,
18 September 1642, 29th September 1644, 16 October 1646 and 8 April 1649. Samuel died and was buried in the parish in 1666. He never paid rates so was not presumably a landowner but rather a labouring man or maybe a sailor.
Thomas Barber, born at St Laurence and married at St John’s on 1 June 1641. The marriage licence records him as a sailor. The couple were still living in Margate when their first child was baptised on 15 January 1643.
John Tiffin, a husbandman whose address according to the marriage licence issued in March 1641 was Minster and whose wife was possibly giving birth at the time the oath was being administered in church. The child was baptised on February 23 three days after.
Edward Violet, a doctor at St John’s and gentleman. He had four children in the
parish baptised on 12 October 1634, 11 November 1638, 15 August 1641
and 28 January 1644. He was buried there on 12 February 1650.
MARGARET BOLTON
John Goodwin, chirurgeon of Birchington. Married in October 1642, he was paying rates in the parish and continued to do so until his death there in 1652.
Vincent Underdown, a yeoman farmer, was another ratepayer who failed to take the oath at Birchington.
Richard Dadd, born at St Laurence in 1610, married there in 1636 and had children baptised in the church on 6 August 1637, 18 August 1639 and 26 September 1641. The rate books show he held 3 acres at Northwood in 1641 and 1642.
Paul Wastell held 3 acres in Ramsgate. Born at neighbouring St Peter’s in 1570, he had lived in St Laurence since his marriage in 1592 and remained paying rates there until his death in 1650. He was a sea captain. Whether he was at sea when the oath was taken or was infirm due to age cannot be known. Both his sons took the oath.
John Russell aged fifty-one and his son of the same name were both fishermen
at St Peter’s. Neither signed.
Robert Spratt, born at Charing, married at Birchington in 1640 where he settled and had ten children prior to his death there in 1668. They include infants baptised on 21 August 1641 and 31 December 1642. He took the Solemn Vow at Birchington in 1643.
Less certainty can be expressed over the whereabouts of some of the younger men who were born on the island, subsequently married and died on the island, but who could have been working on the mainland in February 1642. They include: Richard Omer, a yeoman’s son aged nineteen; Robert Todd, also nineteen and a sailor; Nathaniel Martin and George Long, both eighteen and sons of sailors; Richard Kennett, aged eighteen, and a tailor’s apprentice; Roger Chapman, a twenty-year old farm labourer at St Nicholas. Men who never married and were not landowners or criminals inevitably left little trace so it cannot be said where they were in February 1642. For example, Richard Taylor was born at St Laurence in 1603 and died a bachelor at St John’s in 1648. Similarly, Job Pearce was born at St John’s in 1604 and also died unmarried at St Laurence in 1648 and Robert Sackett was born at St Peter’s in 1587 and died there in 1662 without having wed and John Gridier at Minster in 1599 died St John’s 1665.
In three cases, it is impossible to know where someone was resident. John Giles had been living at St John’s since 1627 and had his children there but in July 1643 he took the Solemn Vow as a resident of Birchington. In October 1643, just three months later, he was buried at St John’s where the register recorded him as a householder in the parish. His occupation is unknown so it is possible that he was simply working in Birchington at the time the Vow was taken.
The question of missing men is significant because of the numbers involved. In Table 5 they are shown in two categories – (A) those who might reasonably be assumed to have been resident at the time; (B) those who may have been. [table 5] It is clear that St John’s was not the only parish to have men who failed to take the oath although they were the only parish to report the fact. Some of the men would have been ill and some would have been away but the numbers do seem to suggest
THE ISLE OF THANET AND THE 1642 PROTESTATION OATH
TABLE 5. NUMBERS TAKING THE OATH AND MISSING IT
Took the oath
Refusing
Category A
Category B
Potentially missing
Birchington
153
0
13
7
7.8 to 11.6%
Minster
144
0
14
6
8.9 to 12.2%
St John
319
0
62
17
16.3 to 19.8%
St Laurence
302
0
53
21
14.9 to 19.7%
St Nicholas
112
1
6
3
5 to 7.4%
St Peter
290
1
24
7
7.6 to 9.6%
Unknown
3
5
1,320
2*
175
66
11.7 to 15.4%
*The two men who refused were Simon Croft of St Peter’s, a yeoman farmer aged 39, and Thomas Paramor of St Nicholas, gentleman, aged 26.
at best a lack of enthusiasm in some quarters to take the oath. Around one in eight men probably claimed sudden illness or urgent business elsewhere on the day. The law required – on penalty of fines – everyone to be in church unless prevented by sickness and none of those missing was a known recusant: apparently many simply voted with their feet. Sailors on merchant vessels might be travelling but local fishermen had no need to go out on the Sabbath and why would shoemakers have to be away from home? The number of oathtakers whose occupation is known is shown in Table 6, together with estimated absences.
The age structure of the men believed missing shows an increase over those who signed in terms of those aged seventy or more but is pretty comparable in Category A though Category B includes significantly more young people whose whereabouts are less easy to determine. Once a man married and started having children or he bought or rented property and started paying taxes, he appeared in records but before that stage, he was generally hidden from the researches of later historians.
Novelists like to portray the Civil War as an event which divided families but there is little sign of that in Thanet. Where a son took the oath and his elderly
TABLE 6. OCCUPATIONAL REPRESENTATION AMONGST OATH TAKERS
Took the Oath
Missing
% Absent
Craftsmen
113
5
4.2
Gentlemen
31
9
22.5
Husbandman
77
9
10.5
Professional
8
2
20.0
Sailors
130
55
29.7
Yeomen
136
20
12.8
Total
495
100
16.8
MARGARET BOLTON
father did not, it is perhaps more likely that this was because the parent was infirm than a sign that the son was taking a different political stance. Indeed, there seems to be some evidence of family agreement. Not one of the four members of the Prince family of brewers took the oath and nor did the maltster Richard Norwood whose sister had married Thomas Prince. Thomas Lacey of Birchington and John Sprackling of St John’s who were also brothers-in-law, both failed to take the oath too. Of course, they may have been together for a family event elsewhere and the fact that many people worked with their kinsmen – especially on boats and farms – should not be forgotten either, but it does suggest that they may have discussed the Protestation and decided collectively to absent themselves from church on that particular Sunday.
conclusion
The returns of the Protestation Oath are fascinating documents. They are not just a list of names but a means by which we can get an impression of the age structure of each community and the available employment opportunities. Although the listing of missing men is an estimate, it suggests that just prior to the outbreak of the civil war, there was some politicisation, amongst landowners in particular. The maritime parishes were all limbs of the Cinque Ports so would have been especially hit by ship money. It would seem probable that a similar analysis in other areas would yield comparable results.
endnotes
1 HL/PO/JO/10/1/92/50-55.
The date of the 14th is clear on the original but it might be wondered if this was an error on the part of the clerk since it would seem more likely that the oath was taken in church after the service on Sunday 13 rather than on a day when men would be at work.
At the time of the Compton Census in 1676, an exact count revealed 154 inhabitants including children. Anne Whiteman and Mary Clapinson, 1986, The Compton Census of 1676: a critical edition (Oxford), 35. In 1588, just 100 communicants had been recorded. At the time of the 1667 Hearth Tax, there were 32 houses, E179/129/746.
The following officials are named for each parish:
St John: The Reverend John Banks (vicar); Edmund Catton, John Laming (churchwardens); William
Coppin (deputy); John Smith (sub deputy); Thomas Robins (overseer); Henry Culmer (registrar).
St Peter: The Reverend Thomas Stevens (vicar); Guildford Culmer, Nicholas Sampson (church- wardens); Gabriel Wastell (constable); John Russell, Edward Emptage, William Curling, Henry Sampson (overseers).
St Laurence: churchwarden: Richard Langley (churchwarden); John Curling (constable); Edward Troward, Daniel Emptage (overseers).
St Nicholas: John Emptage, Thomas Culling (churchwardens); Valentine Marlow (constable); George Culmer, George Skinner (overseers).
Birchington: The Reverend George Stancombe (minister); Thomas Parker (overseer).
Minster: The Reverend John Picard (curate); Robert Noble, Edward Taddy (churchwardens).
5 In some cases, it is evident that men are missing but unclear which. For example, William Chambers and his son of the same name both lived at St Nicholas but only one was listed as taking the oath. St Laurence had two householders named William Saunder but only one took the oath. There were nine men named John Curling alive of whom six only were listed: it is clearly impossible to identify which did and which did not take the oath. Other common names were John Wild of whom six were alive and four appeared.
THE ISLE OF THANET AND THE 1642 PROTESTATION OATH
Ralph Lynch who married in the village in 1596 had been listed as an adult sailor in 1584 in a list of mariners prepared for the Privy Council, SP12/175/86.
Peter Clark, 1972, ‘The Migrant in Kentish towns, 1580-1640’, in Peter Clark and Paul Slack
(eds), Crisis and Order in English Towns, 1500-1700 (London), 117-163.
Ibid., pp. 117, 129.
HL/PO/JO/10/1/92/52 f4.
David Hey, 2002, The Oxford Guide to Family History (Oxford), 225. There is not a shred of evidence that either of the two men who refused the oath on Thanet were recusants.
E.A. Wrigley and R.S. Schofield, 1981, The Population History of England 1541-1871 (Cambridge), 569; they estimated that 35% of the early modern population were sixteen or under based on surveys of communicants.
Joyce M. Horn (ed.), 1974, Fasti Ecclesiae Anglicanae 1541-1857, vol. 3 (London), 21-22. The appointment is listed as William Dunlyn, m.a. but this is likely to have been a transcription error since no such person named Dunlyn has ever been traced.
Richard Culmer, 1657, A Parish Looking Glasse (London), 14.
Ibid., p. 18.
WHAT ARCHBISHOP BOURCHIER ACQUIRED IN HIS 1456 KNOLE TRANSACTION
stephen draper
In 1456 Archbishop Thomas Bourchier had particular reasons for pur- chasing the manor of Knole and its appurtenances from William Fiennes, the son of James Fiennes, ‘the great extortioner of Kent’ who died in Jack Cade’s rebellion. Bourchier also purchased various lands in the parishes of Sevenoaks, Seal and Tonbridge, some of which were clearly to provide building materials such as stone for his great manor house of Knole. The archbishopric already owned lands and rents in Sevenoaks, the archiepiscopal residence being nearby Otford Palace. The archbishop did not have a residence in Sevenoaks until Bourchier bought Fiennes’ manor. Knole was Bourchier’s personal home until his death when he bequeathed it to the archbishopric. In this paper the indenture of 1456 by which Bourchier bought Knole is analysed in detail and the location and character of the various associated properties examined.
F.R.H. du Boulay found substantial documentary evidence relating to Bourchier’s purchase of the Knole estate and published his analysis in two separate volumes of Archaeologia Cantiana.1 Since their publication, further relevant archive documents have become available and the recent Inspired by Knole project has added to our knowledge of the transaction.
The Bourchier Indenture
Research for this paper started with the discovery that Bourchier’s contract to purchase all William Fiennes’ properties in Sevenoaks is freely accessible in the Kent History and Library Centre archives. Many of the myths about Bourchier’s purchase stem from the use of quotations from it that are either partial or out of context, or both. A transcription is reproduced here in full (Fig. 1). It declares that it is an indenture dated 30 June 1456 between Thomas, Archbishop of Canterbury, and William Fiennes, Lord Say of the Seal.2
Bourchier, newly appointed as Archbishop of Canterbury, needed a residence that had ready access to London and was on a healthy site. Knole’s situation was ideal: on a breezy hill, in good hunting terrain, with arable land not far away, and next to a main road from the south coast to London.
On vellum, the indenture has 19 lines of text, very short for such an important document and, rather unusually, is written in English. Indentures have the same text written on each half, with a security inscription in large letters across the middle.
WHAT ARCHBISHOP BOURCHIER BOUGHT IN HIS 1456 KNOLE TRANSACTION
This indenture made the last day of June, the year of reign of King Henry the sixth, 34th [30th June 1456]
Between Thomas Archbishop of Canterbury on that one part and William Fenys Lord Say of the Seal on that other part
Witnesseth that the said Lord Say hath plainly bargained and sold to the said Archbishop
the manor of Knolle, with the appurtenances in the Shire of Kent,
And also all those meesez [?mesnes (freehold)?] lands and tenements called
Panters
Josez and
Frenches and
the lands and tenements which were late one [blank for forename] Skeles,
And all those lands and tenements which were sometime John Smyth otherwise called John Mill lying and being in the parishes of Sevenoke and Tunbridge,
And all his other lands and tenements lying in the same parishes
with all timber wood lead Stone and brick
being or lying within the said manor lands and tenements
And at the Quarry of John Cartiers in the parish of the Seal abovesaid, the which said manor the Father of the said William Lord Say late bought of Rauf Legh.
And also this indenture beareth witness that the said William Lord Say shall make or do to be made before the 20th day of July next coming to such persons as the said Archbishop will name and to their heirs and assigns a sufficient and lawful Estate of Fee Simple of and in the said manor lands and tenements.
And by his deed sufficient in law shall bind him and his heirs to warrant the said manor lands and tenements to the same persons their heirs and their assigns.
And also that the said William Lord Say shall before the same day of July deliver or do to be delivered to the said Archbishop all the deeds Indents and muniments concerning the said manor lands and tenements or any part of them the which the said Lord Say or any others to his use at this day hath in possession
for the which said manor lands tenements and other premises the said Archbishop shall pay to the said Lord Say 400 Marks of the which sum the said Archbishop hath paid to the said Lord Say 100 marks the day of the making of these indentures.
And all the remnant of the said whole sum, the said Archbishop shall, to the said Lord Say pay within 20 days next following the day of
the said Estate made.
And livery of the said evidences,
And to all the said covenants bargains and Sales on the part of the said Lord Say made well and truly kept and performed the same Lord Say bindeth him his heirs and his executors to the said Archbishop
By this his deed indented in 100 li[£] Sterlinges
In Witness whereof the said parties to these presents interchangeably have put to their Seals
By William Fenys Lord
Say and Seal
Fig. 1 A Transcription of the Bourchier Indenture.
image
STEPHEN DRAPER
The parties sign and seal one half each, then an irregular wavy line (the indent) is cut through the inscription. The parties take away the part signed by the other. Any later dispute can be checked by matching the two halves together. In this case, the security inscription is FFENYS, the old spelling for the Fiennes family name.
The Bourchier indenture is an escrow agreement setting out the stage payments and what had to be done, by when, to cover them. As usual, there is very little punctuation, new sentences are introduced by a capital letter, and the next item in a list by a capitalised ‘And’. The lists are nested and the transcription shows this by the degree of indentation. There are no frills, no additional titles, and all is ‘plainly bargained and sold’.
A bundle of properties was being transacted, starting with ‘the manor of Knolle, with the appurtenances’, its outbuildings and farmsteads; all plots of land; rights to hunt in the forest, appoint officials, and receive payments and services. Next are listed some lands and tenements which Fiennes had accumulated, but which were still named after their previous owners: Panters, Josez,3 Frenches, Skeles and John Smith (aka Mills). The last two names are written with a thicker nib and are out of line with the rest of the text, so it is clear that a blank was left and filled in later, perhaps suggesting haste. Skeles’ forename is blank. Fig. 2 shows the parish
image
Fig. 2 Map showing the parishes of Sevenoaks, Seal and Tonbridge, and locations of the bundle of properties in the Bourchier transaction (italicised). The green line shows the escarpment of the Greensand Ridge and the brown the southern limit of Holmesdale.
Agricultural zones described.
WHAT ARCHBISHOP BOURCHIER BOUGHT IN HIS 1456 KNOLE TRANSACTION
boundaries of Sevenoaks and Seal and the location of the various properties in the Knole transaction.
The indenture then notes the inclusion of all building materials ‘being or lying within’ the properties. Here Bourchier was being careful to keep everything clear and above board, as Fiennes’ father had a reputation for trickery in property deals. Timber and lead could be taken from a building by the seller and reused elsewhere, leaving the walls standing but unusable. Fiennes could not remove building materials so the Knole buildings would be intact. ‘Stone … being or lying within’ the properties encompassed stone still underground, such as that at John Cartier’s quarry in Seal, where the materials, but not the land, were included.
The escrow procedure by which Bourchier could secure the properties by staged payments (and check the documents before final payment) is set out in the indenture as follows:
On signature, Bourchier would pay 100 marks to Fiennes.
Before 20th July Fiennes would hand over an estate of Fee Simple (full control) of all the properties to Bourchier’s nominees and their heirs and assigns, that is, not just for their lifetime, but permanently, and to them, not to them acting as attorneys for Bourchier.
Fiennes binds his heirs to this agreement also, so they can’t claim it was just a deal for their father’s lifetime.
Before 20th July Fiennes had to deliver all deeds, indentures and muniments connected with the estate.
20 days after Fiennes had handed over both the estate and the documenta- tion, Bourchier would pay the remainder of the whole sum of 400 marks. Bourchier’s clerks thus had time to check all was in order.
The final clauses are standard for the end of a deed, again binding Fiennes and his heirs to the agreement, and confirming a consideration of £100 Ster- ling had been paid. This is a surprise, as this is 50% more than the 100 marks that was specified just four lines above.
The parties confirm that they are signing and sealing interchangeable, i.e.
identical, halves of the document.
The surviving indenture in KHLC is Bourchier’s half, so bears Fiennes’ sig- nature. The bottom of the vellum has been folded well over the signature and the seal ribbon put through a slot so that the signature could be checked, but not altered with a quill (Fig. 3).
Fiennes’ seal is small, a signet ring, rather than a ceremonial seal.
This is a concise but thorough contract. Details of the properties involved and proof of ownership are left to the batch of documents to be handed over and reviewed before final payment. This condition is the reason so much is known about the assembling of the Knole estate. Lambeth Palace Library (LPL) holds the charters, Carte Miscellanee (CM), of the archbishops of Canterbury from the 12th century. CM V and X contain 340 documents, of which 130 are the original Knole deeds delivered by William Fiennes in accordance with the indenture.
STEPHEN DRAPER
image
Fig. 3 The indenture unfolded. KHLC U1450/T4/17 Indenture of Agreement to buy Knole, 30 June 1456. (Photo by S. Draper.)
The Knole Estate
Knole had been in the possession of an archbishop of Canterbury previously, first mentioned in his accounts in 1259,4 one of a number of substantial holdings paying rent in cash or kind. The LPL CM V and X deeds show that from 1274 a Robert de la Knole (whose career included being in the service of the archbishop, as bailiff), was busy enlarging his estate. Some deeds reveal Robert’s purchases of named crofts, fields, tenements, or other properties on his own account. This resulted in a patchwork of properties, rented out to tenants who worked the land and ran the businesses. In 1292 Robert bought shops, booths and plots in Sevenoaks market. These remained part of the estate for at least 300 years.5
After the death of Robert de la Knole, the estate was acquired and further enlarged by the Grovehurst family, then by the Ashburnhams. By 1365 Roger Ashburnham had acquired all the inherited shares, which stayed with his heirs until 1419.
In 1419 Thomas Langley, Bishop of Durham, wanted to buy property outside the bishopric for the benefit of his family. In March 1419, Langley arrived in Sevenoaks with his retinue, including his household Treasurer, Nicholas Hulme, whose role included surveying properties and assessing and costing necessary works. Hulme and John Thoralby, another trusted agent of Langley’s, were in the Court of Common Pleas in April, paying Thomas Ashburnham 200 marks for Knole (Fig. 4).6
Unusually, both the court’s and the purchaser’s parts of the final concord for this purchase survive. The property was to be held for the benefit of Henry Langley, presumably a close relative of the bishop, and Henry’s heirs. It comprised 5 messuages, 500 acres of arable, 3 acres of meadow, 300 acres of wood, and rents of 60s. in Sevenoaks, with the homage and all services of 50 named tenants. Thoralby and Hulme added to the Sevenoaks estate, purchasing ‘land called Hardinges’ in 14207 and ‘a plot of land in Waterden’ in 1429.8
image
WHAT ARCHBISHOP BOURCHIER BOUGHT IN HIS 1456 KNOLE TRANSACTION
263
Fig. 4 The Ashburnham - Bishop of Durham sale. TNA CP 25/1/113/290 No. 283. (Photo by S. Draper.)
Final Concord. Purchase by Bishop of Durham’s agents from Thomas Ashburnham of Knole: 5 messuages, 500 acres of arable, 3 acres of meadow, 300 acres of wood, 60 s. rent and rent of 14 hens with appurtenances, in Sevenoaks, with the homage and all services of 50 tenants [listed]. 30th April 1419. Paid 200 silver marks [£2.2M].
STEPHEN DRAPER
Knole was maintained at Bishop Langley’s expense, but he never visited, and it is not known if Henry ever lived there. The bishop died in 1437, and Hulme was an executor for the bishop as well as a trustee of Knole. In May 1444 Hulme and Henry Langley appointed attorneys to deliver seizin to Henry’s daughter Elizabeth and her husband, Ralph Leigh.9
In June and October 1446, Ralph and Elizabeth appeared in the Court of Common Pleas, recording a final concord to the effect that Knole now belonged to James Fiennes, knight (Fig. 5).10 Since 1419, the property had increased by 10 acres, now totalling 813 acres. Half the tenants listed had the same names as those 27 years previously. The concord states: ‘Ralph and Elizabeth have acknowledged the
image
Fig. 5 The Leigh - Fiennes sale. TNA CP 25/1/115/319 No. 648. (Photo by S. Draper.)
Final Concord. Purchase by James Fiennes, knight, from Ralph and Elizabeth Leigh of Knole: 5 messuages, 510 acres of arable, 3 acres of meadow, 300 acres of wood, 60s rent and rent of 17 hens with appurtenances in Sevenoaks, with the homage and all services of 39 tenants [listed]. 6th October 1446. Paid 100 silver marks [£1.3M]. The tenements were rendered to James in court, not by seizin.
WHAT ARCHBISHOP BOURCHIER BOUGHT IN HIS 1456 KNOLE TRANSACTION
tenements and rent to be the right of James, and have rendered the tenements to them [sic] in the court’. It sounds as though Fiennes was already in possession of Knole before the final concord. Rendering the tenements in court, rather than by taking seizin, was unusual, and the price, 100 marks, only half what Langley had paid. William Fiennes may have been concealing his father’s strongarm tactics by omitting his section of the Leigh concord from the deeds he delivered.
Tenants and Properties
The protection afforded by a powerful lord may well explain why several of the families who sold land to Robert de la Knole’s growing estate, then within the archbishop’s writ, stayed on the land and appear in the list of tenants decades later. Their names can be used to locate parts of the property that Bourchier bought.
Both the 1419 and 1446 final concords for Knole include, in the list of what was being bought, ‘the homage and all services’ of a list of tenants, 50 in 1419 and 39 in 1446, of whom 22 are present in both lists. The 1419 list gives the trades of three tenants: Baldwin Fisher, fletcher, Thomas Mellere, p[o]ulter[er]; Walter Becher, sowter.11 They were probably tenants of the marketplace shops bought by Robert de la Knole, twelve of which were still part of the estate in 1587. A significant part of Sevenoaks market still follows the fifteenth-century layout, with shops from c.1450 still standing.12
In James Fiennes’ purchase, Knole had 510 acres of arable land as well as woodland. The land on which Sevenoaks town and Knole stand was described by Hasted as having ‘much waste ground in it, which is a dreary barren sand … being in general covered with heath and furze, with some scrubby wood interspersed among the hills, which are high’.13
The northern part of the Parish is the lower, rich and fertile Vale of Holmesdale. When Robert de la Knole was building his estate, much of Holmesdale was occupied by large freeholders. He acquired properties at Rotherden (Riverhead) and Brittains, sometimes rented by weavers, where there was sufficient water for a fulling mill, but little else was available in Holmesdale. The parishes of Sevenoaks and Seal also extend some distance south of the Greensand Ridge (Hasted’s high hills) into fertile Wealden farmland which contains a number of small watercourses. These zones are marked on Fig. 2.
The names of some of the tenants indicate that much of Knole’s arable land was in the Weald. Medieval family names are often preserved in place names, especially farms, in the 1841 tithe maps and apportionments.14 After 1841 the rapid expansion of population and settlements makes place-name links less reliable. The tithe maps and apportionments for Sevenoaks, Seal and Tonbridge contain places bearing nine of the more distinctive tenants’ names from the 1419 and 1446 Concords, which are marked on Fig. 2:
John Romchede John Nisell
Robert Frenche Roger Elsy
John French John Bore
Thomas Pantere Thomas Wykehirst John Romchete
STEPHEN DRAPER
Of these names only French matched any other place in the three parishes.15 Also marked are the Chandlers of Tonbridge, who had also owned the 100 acres of Joces in Sevenoaks throughout the 1420s. In 1326, Joces was described as comprising ‘Undereuere and Supereuere’,16 which sounds like Underriver and an area above it. The properties now known as Riverhill and St Julians are just inside the Sevenoaks parish boundary, beside the main Hastings road, and rise from the north of Underriver to the crest of the Greensand Ridge. Riverhill is adjacent to Panters and by 1459 Joces and Panters were leased as a single entity to one tenant.17 This makes Riverhill a possible location for Joces. The Ashburnhams had added lands in Undereuere to the Knole portfolio.18
In 1480, Bourchier made an agreement with John Morton, Bishop of Ely and his successor at Canterbury, about the land Bourchier would leave to the See of Canterbury and the uses to which it would be put. The lands already mentioned were included, plus properties in Leigh, Chiddingstone and Penshurst (which is south of Leigh).
Every one of these locations and properties is south of the Ridge, in the Weald. As the indenture describes the lands of John Smith as lying in Sevenoaks and Tonbridge, they are likely to have been in the same area. A large proportion of the arable land bought by Bourchier seems to have been in the Weald, to the south of Knole.
Quarries and Ragstone
Bourchier also bought all the stone in John Carter’s quarry in Seal. John Carter is named as tenant in Seal of 20 acres of James Fiennes’ land, from whom Fiennes extorted excessive rent in 1449. The 1841 Tithe Apportionment (TA) for Seal has seven pieces of land named Quarry. Six of these are in an area still known as Carter’s Hill,19 and with a road called Carter’s Hill running up through it.
The TA Quarries are shown on the map, and also superimposed on the LiDAR image in Fig. 6. They are on the shallower slope at the foot of the scarp and the LiDAR shows broken, rocky surfaces, different from the fields around.20 All these quarries cut into a bed of Kentish Ragstone used for building at Knole and throughout Sevenoaks. Bourchier’s accounts show that some ragstone for his new Knole tower was transported from Panthurst, where there is evidence of a quarry. The houses at Riverhill and St Julian’s are shown on the tithe map and are just below areas that show evidence of similar, shallow quarrying before the houses were built, so well before 1841. If Riverhill is the site of Joces, the availability of stone would help explain why Joces was highly valued.21
Works at Knole
Once Bourchier had possession of the Manor of Knole in July 1456, his men made an immediate start to work on the buildings. The bailiff and receiver of the Bailiwick of Otford, which included Sevenoaks, Otford and Knole, kept consolidated accounts, of which three years’ survive.
The Michaelmas 1455 to Christmas 1456 accounts record, in only 5 months, major expenditure of £26 on ‘repairs to the Manor of Knole, which manor the Lord Archbishop recently bought from the Lord of Say’.22 Purchases included tiles, nails, shingling, lime, sand and sawn timber and planks, but the bulk of the
WHAT ARCHBISHOP BOURCHIER BOUGHT IN HIS 1456 KNOLE TRANSACTION
image
Fig. 6 Lidar image of quarry area. Named quarries shaded pink.
Seal Parish Quarry names, 1841 (left to right): High House Quarry, Quarry Shaw, Quarry Field, Upper Rooks Quarry Mead, Rooks Quarry Field, Breeches Quarry Shaw.
expenditure was for leadwork.23 Repairs are mentioned three times in this year’s accounts. The workmen were involved in carpentry, tiling, leadwork, plastering etc., and the materials are those used for repair, rather than construction.24 In 1460-61 payments were made to several craftsmen who can only have worked on otherwise-completed buildings, including a glazier, paid a substantial sum ‘for glass windows, with solder and other necessary expenses’.25
The recent Inspired by Knole project identified a possible manorial great hall pre-dating Bourchier’s Great Hall. It is a substantial building with a very grand roof, parts of which are now known as the pigeon loft and old kitchen.26
Accounts for Christmas 1462 to 1463 specify new building at the Manor of Knole six times, which totalled £104 9s. 7d.27 and included payments for digging and preparing stone at the quarry. Building work continued for some years, as shown by a 1467 payment for ‘carriage of 30 loads of stone for the new tower at Knolle from Panters to the Manor’.28
During the first years of Bourchier’s ownership of Knole, it is clear that there were significant Manor buildings which were retained and repaired. The very large amount of lead, plus tiles and shingles, suggests that roof repairs were a major part of this work. At least seven years of large-scale and expensive work then took place on new buildings, including digging, preparation and carriage of stone, masonry and carpentry.
By 1469-70 the only development work taking place at Knole was the construction of the park paling, which may have been completed then because it does not appear in the following two years’ accounts.29
The Park
STEPHEN DRAPER
There is no record of a park at Knole before Bourchier’s time, and no record of him, previous owners, nor his agents obtaining a licence to impark. From 1466 there are two quitclaims30 for the transfer (normally a sale) of pieces of land within Knole Park to Bourchier’s clerks, one of which places an obligation on the seller to keep open ‘the new way outside the park’. These documents show that by January 1466:
Knole Park existed,
it included old roads,
new ways had been created around it,
the manor was buying plots of land within the park.
In 1468 there is a further deed yielding to Bourchier’s agents the use of an enclosed piece of land and wood within Knole Park.31 All is consistent with a newly established park comprising mainly lands already owned by the manor and a process of acquisition of use or ownership of the remaining lands within the Park.
What Bourchier did with Knole
Bourchier’s registers show that he frequently stayed at the Archbishop’s palace in Otford, a short ride from Knole, from May 1456 onwards. He first stayed at Knole in March 1459, and only from 1464 did he stay there for appreciable periods. Knole became his favourite house, his only residence in his later years.32 Again, this is consistent with a period of over two years to repair the existing buildings and make them habitable, then about five years of intensive new building works until the whole manor house was fully ready for occupation.
In his will, dated three days before his death on 30 March 1486, Bourchier left Knole to the See of Canterbury.33 The ODNB states: ‘Margaret Paston had remarked in 1469 that he was an old man who might happe to dye at any moment, but he lived on for seventeen more years ... in 1480, feeling the effects of age, Bourchier appointed a suffragan’34 and began preparations to bequeath Knole for the benefit of the archbishopric. John Morton, Bishop of Ely and successor as archbishop, declared that the uses of the properties would be in accordance with the terms of Bourchier’s will (Fig. 7).35
The properties were ‘the manors of Knole, Retherden, Panters, and Bretons, 5 messuages, 780a. arable, 60a. meadow, 250a. pasture, 195a. wood, and rent of £5 19s., two cocks, 20 hens and two cattle, with appurtenances in Sevenoaks, Leigh, Penshurst, and Chiddingstone, and half the manor of Slobbe with appurtenances in Sevenoaks’.36 Retherden (Riverhead), Panters (Panthurst), and Bretons (Brittains) were all part of Bourchier’s original purchase and much developed by him, here accorded the status of manors. The Tonbridge properties in Bourchier’s original pur- chase were omitted. Documents relating to the manor of Slobbe appear in the arch- ives, it was absorbed into the Knole estates in 146637 and not mentioned after 1480. In the 1456 indenture, Bourchier’s agents (feoffees) took seizin of Knole, so Morton and the feoffees made a deed of grant to Bourchier38 and he appointed
attorneys to take seizin on his behalf.39
WHAT ARCHBISHOP BOURCHIER BOUGHT IN HIS 1456 KNOLE TRANSACTION
image
Fig. 7 Undertaking to use Knole in accordance with Archbishop Bourchier’s will. TNA E 41/75. (Photo by S. Draper.)
Declaration that the uses of the properties will be in accordance with the terms of Bourchier’s will, by John [Morton] Bishop of Ely and nine others. 10 July 1480. The properties were: ‘manors of Knole, Retherden, Panters, and Bretons, 5 messuages, 780a. arable, 60a. meadow, 250a. pasture, 195a. wood, and rent of £5 19s., two cocks, 20 hens and two cattle, with appurtenances in Sevenoaks, Leigh, Penshurst, and Chiddingstone, and half manor of Slobbe with appurtenances in Sevenoaks’.
Conclusion
STEPHEN DRAPER
Table 1 shows all the Knole lands documented in this paper. By 1419 the Knole estate owned over 800 acres around the house, at Brittains and Riverhead, and in the Weald. Holdings included five messuages and a dozen shops in the Sevenoaks market (Fig. 8). In 1456 Bourchier bought an estate of at least 1,000 acres from William Fiennes, taking care that ownership was proven and paying a fair price.
During Bourchier’s ownership there was a large reduction in woodland, which
may reflect clearance in the park to create more grassland for riding and hunting.
The existing buildings were substantial, as demonstrated by the cost and quantities of materials required to repair them and the two to three years duration the repairs took. This was dwarfed by Bourchier’s building project, which made the house essentially what it is today, and cost around twice the purchase price of the entire estate.40 Finally, Bourchier created a substantial park around the house, making a magnificent base for his important role throughout the Wars of the Roses, and his permanent home in his later years.
TABLE 1. DOCUMENTED LAND AREAS OF KNOLE PROPERTIES
Knole (1419)
Knole (1446)
Joce’s (1447)
[in 1379]
Panter’s, French’s, Smith’s
Acquired 1456
Knole + Estates (1480)
Buildings
5
messuages
5
messuages
Tenement
Lands, tenements
Manor, Tenements
4.5 Manors,
5 messuages
Arable (acres)
500
510
[80]
?
590+
780
Meadow (acres)
3
3
[9]
?
12+
60
Pasture (acres)
250
Wood (acres)
300
300
[11]
?
311+
195
Total Acres
803
813
[100]
?
913+
1,285
Price Paid
{Today}
200 marks
{£2.2M}
100 marks
{£1.3M}
??
[{£1.5M}]
??
400 marks
{£5.2M}
Acquired by
Langley
James Fiennes
James Fiennes
James Fiennes
Bourchier
See of Cant’bury
WHAT ARCHBISHOP BOURCHIER BOUGHT IN HIS 1456 KNOLE TRANSACTION
image
Fig. 8 A Sevenoaks market alley. Buildings to left dated to c.1450. (Photo by S. Draper.)
endnotes
F.R.H. Du Boulay, 1950, ‘A Note on the Rebuilding of Knole by Archbishop Bourgchier’, Archaeologia Cantiana, 63, 135-139; Du Boulay, 1974, ‘The Assembling of an Estate: Knole in Sevenoaks, c.1275 to c.1525, Archaeologia Cantiana, 89, 1-10.
Kent History and Library Centre [hereafter KHLC] U1450/T4/17 ‘Indenture of agreement to buy Knole, 30 June 1456’.
This is the only traceable occurrence of the phonetic spelling ‘Josez’. Other documents name the tenement with variations of ‘Joces’, i.e. the former property of one Joce.
Lambeth Palace Library [hereafter LPL; all LPL references are catalogue entries due to the library’s move to its new building and Covid-19 delays], CM XIII/6i On the dorse: a rental of honey, hens, ploughs and money in Petham, Orpington, Cliffe, Meopham, Knole, Ightham, Chartham, Bocking, Godmersham, Fairfield, Great and Little Chart and, outside Kent, Wells, Walworth Woodton, Charlwood, Cheam, Monks’ Risborough, Hatton, Monks’ Eleigh, 9 December 1259.
In 1587 Knole was responsible for maintenance on 12 shops or shambles in Sevenoaks market.
Essex Record Office D/DL C43/ 1/1 Lennard Papers, Vol. I Item 19, original, with a transcript.
The National Archives [hereafter TNA] CP 25/1/113/290: Kent Feet of fines for 7 Hen V: 276- 300, number 283. Translation: Duncan Harrington, 2012 Feet of Fines for the Reign of King Henry V, p. 235 (http://www.kentarchaeology.ac/Records/KRNS5-3.pdf).
LPL CM X/57 10 July 1420.
LPL CM X/85 20 May 1429.
LPL CM II/37 Letter of attorney, Henry Langley and Nicholas Hulme appoint Thomas Jakelyn and Ralph Morton to take seizin of the manor of Knole ... to Ralph Legh esq. and Elizabeth Langley his daughter. (15 May 1444.)
STEPHEN DRAPER
TNA CP 25/1/115/319, number 648. 19 June and 6 October 1446. James Fiennes, notorious ‘extortioner of Kent’, was hated by the people of Kent for a number of reasons, including strongarm tactics in the acquisition of property. He had been High Sheriff of Kent and of Sussex and abused his power.
A sowter is a shoemaker.
‘Two small, two-storeyed and jettied timber-framed buildings, discovered in 1982 when a building fronting the present-day Shambles was being renovated, had probably been shops c.1450- 1530. Their arrangement indicated the position of lost alleyways, perhaps from the time when the market stalls were laid out in grid fashion, with walkways between them. Some of the stalls were quite small; for example, in 1492 a rent of one halfpenny was paid for a stall only c.2m x 60cm. But rents of up to one shilling suggest that some shops were much larger. South of the market there was a pond to provide water for livestock.’ Kent Historic Towns Survey: Sevenoaks, Archaeological Assessment Document, December 2004, Kent County Council, p. 11.
Edward Hasted, ‘Parishes: Seale’, in The History and Topographical Survey of the County of Kent, vol. 3 (Canterbury, 1797), pp. 51-59. British History Online http://www.british-history.ac.uk/ survey-kent/vol3/pp51-59 [accessed 11 June 2021].
Eric J. Evans and Alan G. Crosby, Tithes: Maps, Apportionments and the 1836 Act: a guide for local historians, British Association for Local History (Salisbury, 1997), p. 30.
There are several other Frenches farms in the extraordinarily large parish of Tonbridge, the one marked is the only one near the Sevenoaks border, the others are farther to the south and east.
LPL CM V/157, Quitclaim of right by John Joce of Brabourne to William Moraunt and John of Vicleston in all his father’s lands in Sevenoaks, viz. Undereuere and Supereuere, except the two plots called Valdtegh and Constenene, 30 Nov. 1326.
Du Boulay, 1974, ‘By 1459, Brittains was being leased for £6 10s. p.a. to a local man for five years renewable, and Joces’ and Panthurst to another for £7 6s. 8d.’, p. 9.
LPL CM X/66 9 Nov. 1377.
In 1841 the area marked as Carter’s Hill included that now known as One Tree Hill.
Once the railway arrived in Sevenoaks large amounts of ragstone were used in the expansion of the town, and it is likely that some of this came from the large quarries that are cut deep into the steeper slope above the older quarries, as shown on the LiDAR.
100 marks for Joce’s 100 acres in 1379, compared to 200 marks for Knole’s 803 acres in 1419.
Du Boulay, 1950, 137, translated by the author.
Ibid., p. 138. Three foderis (19.5 cwt each), plus 14 cartloads of prepared lead from Lambeth Palace, plus more new lead bought in London, together with money for the melting and drawing of the lead.
Du Boulay, 1950, p. 136.
Alden Gregory, 2010, ‘Knole: An Architectural and Social History of The Archbishop of Canterbury‘s House, 1456-1538’, ph.d. thesis, University of Sussex, p. 47.
Nathalie Cohen and Frances Parton, 2019, Knole Revealed (National Trust), pp. 34-38.
2020 equivalent project labour cost of £712,900 according to Measuringworth.com.
Charles J. Phillips, 1929, History of the Sackville Family (Earls and Dukes of Dorset), Together with a Description of Knole, Early Owners of Knole and a Catalogue Raisonné of the Pictures and Drawings at Knole (2 vols., London etc; II, p. 335), who gives the reference as Lambeth Roll, No. 543, 6 Edward IV [1467], II, p. 335.
Though these accounts are not very detailed. Gregory, 2010, p. 74.
LPL CM X/76, Quitclaim of right. William Quyntyn of Sevenoaks to Mr. John Stokes, Mr. Robert Kyrkeham, clerks, John Clerk, a baron of the Exchequer, John Brymston and Nicholas Gaynesford esquires, William Duraunt and Alexander Wode, gents., in 17 acres, 2 daywerkes and half of a fourth part of a ‘jugum’ called Hendelwelle, lying on the ancient way from Blakhalle to Knokbeche, inside Knole park, and on the new way outside the park to Walderhothe, which William is bound to keep open. 12 Jan 1465-6.
LPL CM V/39 Quitclaim of right by John Walder, senior, of Sevenoaks, to Mr. John Stokes and Mr. Robert Kyrkeham, clerks, and others, of right in a piece of Inlond in Knole Park. 12 Jan. 1465-6.
WHAT ARCHBISHOP BOURCHIER BOUGHT IN HIS 1456 KNOLE TRANSACTION
LPL CM X/79, ‘Feoffment to uses. John Bele of Sevenoaks to William Tyrell knight, Nicholas Gaynysford, John Brymston esq., John Rodman, Roger Heth and Thomas Nysell of an enclosed piece of land and wood in Knole park next to Blakehalleland on the north. Christmas 1468’. As John Bele appears as a tenant in both the 1419 and 1446 Final Concords, it seems likely that, in this deed, he was giving up his lease of this piece of land.
Du Boulay, 1950, p. 136.
Clark, L., Bourchier, Thomas (c.1411-1486), Cardinal and Archbishop of Canterbury. Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. Retrieved 14 Jun. 2021, from: https://www.oxforddnb.com/ view/10.1093/ref:odnb/9780198614128.001.0001/odnb-9780198614128-e-2993.
Ibid.
TNA E 41/75 10 July 1480.
Ibid.
LPL CM V/174, Letter of attorney to deliver seizin to John Stokes of the manor of Slobbe in Sevenoaks, John Rowe and Robert Drylond appoint George Houton and Thomas Nysell. 12 Aug 1466.
TNA C 143/454/21 19 Edward IV (1479-80).
KHLC U1450/T7/86 1480.
Six+ years at £100 a year, £600 or 900 marks in total.
A RARE KENTISH EXAMPLE OF A VERY EARLY POST- GLACIAL FLINT-KNAPPING SITE AT COURT STAIRS, RAMSGATE
pete knowles and tim allen
An archaeological excavation was undertaken by Kent Archaeological Projects (KAP) on land at Court Stairs Country Club, Pegwell Road, Ramsgate, during the summer of 2020. The excavation was undertaken in response to recommendations from Heritage Conservation, Kent County Council, following archaeological evaluation undertaken in August 2019. Archaeological excavations have confirmed the presence of a Mesolithic pit containing a large assemblage of worked flints.
Kent Archaeological Projects was commissioned by Inspired Assets Ltd to conduct the archaeological excavation at Court Stairs Country Club, Pegwell Road, Ramsgate (NGR TR 36697 64197) (Fig. 1). A flint knapping site was identified during the excavation, with a large assemblage comprising flake blade tools, scrapers, notched tools, burins, microliths and bladelet, worked cores, hammer- stones, nodules, test pieces and debitage being present. This assemblage represents all stages of the chaine opératoire.
The flint work was concentrated in a small area, with ninety percent being recovered from the fill of a sub-circular pit measuring approximately 2m by 3m, the basal layer of which consisted of brecciated chalk. A raised chalk hummock, most likely formed under periglacial conditions, protruded from the western lateral and extended to the centre of this feature and may have been used opportunistically as a raised working platform. The majority of the flint debitage and one test nodule were recovered from the upper surface and around this hummock, supporting the view that it was a convenient natural working platform or anvil used for flint knapping (Plate I).
The presence of 21 microliths within the assemblage indicates that it was of early Mesolithic date, pointing to a date of production during the late glacial/early post-glacial period. However, the absence of characteristic types makes further refinement in the dating problematic.
Archaeological background
The site lies within an area of rich and complex archaeological history and potential. In May 2019 KAP carried out an archaeological evaluation of the site (KAP
A VERY EARLY POST-GLACIAL FLINT-KNAPPING SITE AT COURT FARM, RAMSGATE
image
Fig. 1 General map showing location of 2020 excavations.
2019). The evaluation showed that the earliest and only significant archaeological remains, exposed in the southern end of Trench 1, consisted of an elongated pit or discontinuous linear feature exposed at a depth of 0.72m below the present ground surface. Its brickearth-dominated fill produced a total of eleven purposively struck flint flakes during sample excavation of the feature. Although not closely diagnostic in terms of date, the flintwork was undoubtedly of Neolithic or Early Bronze Age manufacture. It was therefore possible, if not probable, that this feature was contemporary and/or associated with a possible Neolithic causeway camp, parts of which were previously excavated some 40m to the north-east (KAP 2020). No other archaeologically significant remains were exposed during the evaluation, which otherwise exposed argillaceous Palaeogene and Drift deposits overlying chalk in the area and two modern, mechanically excavated trenches underlying the levelled surface of a tennis court. In 2007 the Trust for Thanet Archaeology recorded the presence of a Neolithic curving ditch approximately 40m to the north-east (TfTA 2007). The ditch measured 2.6m in depth, with short, interlinked gaps and had a projected diameter of approximately 104m forming a causewayed enclosure (KCC HER TR 36 SE 693). A large flint assemblage was recovered; however, due to the continuation of flint working technologies from the Mesolithic into the Neolithic, establishing the Mesolithic component was problematic and analysis suggested that in this assemblage it appeared to not be significant (Moody 2007).
PETE KNOWLES AND TIM ALLEN
image
Plate I Pit CRN 29, showing flint debitage and nodule.
THE 2020 EXCAVATION
The excavation aimed to ascertain the range of past activities, and specifically whether the evidence suggests transient human activity, domestic/settled occupation, burial, industry, agriculture and/or combinations of these. Linked to this, the excavations also sought to recover stratified assemblages of artefacts and ecofacts which are suitable for analysis and research to assist in determining the date and function of the site during different periods.
A relatively common stratigraphic sequence was recognised across the site (Fig. 2) comprising a modern tennis court surface (01) overlying a construction formation layer (02). Directly below, redeposited modern demolition material (60, 61 and 63) overlay redeposited brickearth which sealed the natural chalk (05). Localised layers of colluvium (03, 04) were recorded within the north-western extent of the site. All recorded archaeological features were cut into the natural chalk (05) at a level of ranging between 26.99m and 26.62m aod.
Fig. 2 Representative section across the site.
A VERY EARLY POST-GLACIAL FLINT-KNAPPING SITE AT COURT FARM, RAMSGATE
image
PETE KNOWLES AND TIM ALLEN
image
Fig. 3 Site plan.
Discrete Features
Archaeological features recorded within the excavation areas include pits and possible post holes (Fig. 3). The assessment of lithics and the spot dating of pottery sherds from within some of these features has enhanced the results by providing data so these features can be chronologically phased. Two chronological phases were recorded, the Mesolithic (Phase 1) 10,000-9700 bp, and the Iron Age (Phase 2) c.50 bc-ad 50.
Oval pit (CRN 29)
The earliest feature investigated on the site was the pit-like feature (Fig. 4) provisionally identified during the evaluation as of possible Neolithic date. When fully investigated, this proved to be a large, roughly oval pit measuring 3.35m north-east/south-west and 1.98m north-west/south-east, with a maximum depth of 0.24m. The feature, which could have been a naturally occurring deep hollow or have been deliberately cut into the natural Chalk and Brickearth, had a slightly undulating base and gently sloping sides. The pit’s single fill (CRN 28) of slightly orange-tinged, mid-brown brickearth contained a large amount of purposely-struck flint, with a total of 138 pieces recovered during the 2020 excavation and 11 during the 2019 evaluation (see section Flint Assemblage below, for a detailed description of the assemblage overall and the particularly diagnostic implements).
A VERY EARLY POST-GLACIAL FLINT-KNAPPING SITE AT COURT FARM, RAMSGATE
image
Fig. 4 Plan of pit CRN 29.
The pit and post hole-like features (CRNs 7-55, 59-68)
A large number of smaller pits and/or post hole-like features (27 in total) were also identified on the site. Excluding modern examples (CRNs 51, 71 and 73), most were interpreted as originating via natural solution hollows as their fills consisted in nearly all cases of mid-orange-brown paste-like, inclusion-free homogenous brickearth. They also occurred predominantly within or at the terminations of the many discontinuous south-west/north-east orientated natural corrugations that intersected the Chalk surface on this site.
An exception was the fill of a 0.27m-deep roughly circular pit (CRN 57), which had a diameter of 0.61m. The fill of this feature consisted of dark brown silty clay (CRN 56) with higher humic content than any of the others excluding modern pits 51, 71 and 73. It contained five Late Iron Age potsherds with a date-range of c.50 bc-ad 25 and was undoubtedly a purposely cut pit. In addition, two post- hole-like features (CRNs 19B and 33), both containing mid-orange-brown paste- like, inclusion free homogenous brickearth, produced Late Iron Age potsherds (respectively, four potsherds and one potsherd), all with a broad date-range of
c.100 bc-ad 25. These sherds may have been intrusive or simply deposited as part of a natural colluvial process; the identity of these features remains ambiguous. In addition, an overlying natural clay-silt deposit (CRN 3) also produced three potsherds of the same date-range.
The Flint Assemblage
A summary Table 1 shows the total proportions of the lithic material recovered for both the 2019 evaluation and the 2020 excavation.
PETE KNOWLES AND TIM ALLEN
TABLE 1. LITHICS RECOVERED FROM COURT STAIRS, RAMSGATE
Lithic
Amount
Weight (Kg)
% of Total
Nodules Large
4
0.6
13.6
Nodules Pieces (primary
204
18.2
41.3
Protuberances (primary)
217
6.2
14.1
Primary Flakes
181
5.6
12.7
Secondary Flakes
149
2.6
5.9
Tertiary Flakes
59
0.5
1.1
Shatter
265
3.3
7.5
Burnt Flint
6
0.12
0.3
Implements including Cores and Hammer Stones
149
1.5
3.4
Totals
1,234
44.02
100
Condition
The majority of the assemblage was in a fresh condition, with a minimum of rolling or abrasion on even the thinnest pieces. Although many of the blade pieces were snapped, it is likely this occurred in antiquity as part of the chaine opératoire. The majority of the assemblage was patinated with the characteristic white-to-mottled, blue-grey surface associated with the weathering of flint in chalk Downland regions. A small percentage of the material had patination indicative of having been worked at different remote periods and re-cortication has occurred on a few pieces.
Raw Material
The raw material is fine grained grey/black Cretaceous flint which occurs locally across Thanet and can easily be found today around the coastal perimeter. The majority of the nodules and debitage have an un-rolled buff/sandy or light grey cortex varying from <1mm to 3mm thick. About 8% have a coarser pitted rolled and white or light grey cortex more typical of beach cobbles or surface flints. A smaller percentage of the material, less than 3%, is of the distinctive glauconitie- coated flint of the Bullhead bed. One Tertiary pebble (CSR-EX-20-155 {Court Stairs Ramsgate, Excavation, 2020, accession number}), is typical of the type found in the Harwich Eocene beds eroding from the cliffs at Reculver (Knowles pers. obs.), notably this pebble had been quartered and has been utilised as a core. The nodules were small and of poor-quality flint that easily shatters, most were of the pipe flint elongated type, and one large nodule had small thumb sized protuberances some of which had been removed. The debitage contained a large
amount of these protuberances.
Only six pieces of fire-fractured flint were found, all from context 28, these were all patinated light grey/white with the cracking associated with exposure to fire, one of these pieces was the remnant of a worked flake.
A VERY EARLY POST-GLACIAL FLINT-KNAPPING SITE AT COURT FARM, RAMSGATE
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Plate II Raw nodules, cores and debitage - from CRN 29.
Origin of the Flint
There was a residual surface scatter of flint across the site, and it may be presumed that a number of artefacts were not recovered during the surface stripping. Although the site was cleaned mostly down to the chalk bedrock there were no flint seams exposed on the site. The flint assemblage cores and debitage were highly concentrated, indicating that they were not in their original geological context. Six rounded pebbles were recovered from within this concentration and were similarly identified as not being their original geological context as surface pitting indicated that they had been utilised as hammer stones. The size and condition of the flint nodules recovered from the site indicate that they were collected from primary or near-primary geological source. Due to the geological characteristics of Thanet, this is unlikely to have been any great distance from the site, as minimal dressing had been performed on the largest remaining largely intact nodule CSR-EX-20-152 (Plate II). An Echinoid fossil in one of the flint nodules (CSR-EX-20-170) may prove useful in identifying the chalk seam from which the flint nodules derived, most likely the Upper Chalk (Gallois 1965).
All stages in the reduction sequence of the chaine opératoire were represented, no refitting was attempted although it is likely that sequential refits are present. There were many large and varying sized fragments of nodules and a similar number of protuberances and other irregularities that had been removed at this site. This suggest that the nodules were brought to the site unprepared. For a small lithic assemblage there are, surprisingly, several distinct and unusual implements, described forthwith.
[Note: for all descriptions in this report reference proximal as top and dorsal as facing.]
PETE KNOWLES AND TIM ALLEN
image
Plate III Mesolithic flanc de nucleus (core).
Cores
Distinctly absent from the assemblage are pyramidal cores associated with the production of microlith bladelets, although bladelets and microliths were recov- ered. Two small core pieces, one heavily battered (CSR-EX-20-02), could be pyramidal core remnants, the other (CSR-EX-20-33) incomplete (due to recent fracture) on bullhead flint has two longitudinal negative scars indicative of narrow blade production.
The other core remnants are multi-faceted, the detachment scars show the intentional production of wide short flakes. One is heavily battered, which is indicative of reutilisation as a hammer stone. Some of the cores are fully worked out and the remnant core is almost cuboid; this reflects processes preferred during the early Neolithic.
The assemblage contains a flanc de nucleus (CSR-EX-20-07), these occur due to the occasional practice of the complete removal of the main flaking surface of a core (Barton, 2003). The flanc de nucleus has three longitudinal negative scars one with a hinged fracture, indicating the production of blades of 4-5cm in length (Plate III).
A single ovate uni-facial flake tool (CSR-EX-20-09) was recovered. The flake is in a fresh and sharp condition with a concaved cutting edge on the right lateral which also has a subtle Z-twist (Plate IV), the flake removals on the dorsal were performed before removal from the core, no cortex remains apart from a small patch on the striking platform, there is some minimal light retouch on the right lateral. The ventral face is flat and smooth with a large bulbar scar and fissures on the right lateral.
image
A VERY EARLY POST-GLACIAL FLINT-KNAPPING SITE AT COURT FARM, RAMSGATE
283
Plate IV Ovate flake tool CSR-EX-20-09 from CRN 29.
PETE KNOWLES AND TIM ALLEN
image
Plate V Blade tools from left to right, Notched blade CSR-EX-20-135, Knife CSR-
EX-20-85, Denticulate CSR-EX-20-06, Graver CSR-EX-20-42, from CRN 29.
This type of implement has not been described in any of the literature studied for this report. It has some characteristics of flint knives from the early Neolithic, but these were generally D shaped with retouch on both faces, equally it has some affinity with a Levallois knapping tradition.
Flake Tools
The majority of the recovered assemblage can be described as flake tools of the following types: scrapers, blades, notch tools and burins, indeterminate utilised flakes (Plate V).
Scrapers: eight scrapers were recovered, both primary and tertiary flakes which have had their distal ends retouched to create the edge required for scraping. Three scrapers were attributed as surface finds, CSR-EX-20-144, 146, 147:
CSR-EX-20-144: is a possible combination tool as abrupt retouch at prox- imal has created a notch and burin, it has been made on primary flake with semi-abrupt retouch on dorsal right lateral to create the scraper edge. The patination is consistent with the implements from context 28.
CSR-EX-19-2: was recovered from the evaluation trench which was the context fill 28 of the excavation. Scraper made on thick secondary flake with abraded platform, crude abrupt retouch on left lateral and distal of dorsal face, cortex remaining on right lateral and part right distal.
A VERY EARLY POST-GLACIAL FLINT-KNAPPING SITE AT COURT FARM, RAMSGATE
CSR-EX-20-34: utilised primary flake with large hollow inclusion on ven- tral, invasive retouch on dorsal left lateral and ventral.
CSR-EX-20-48: was made on a primary flake it has had semi-abrupt retouch
on dorsal right lateral to create a useable scraper edge.
A similar utilisation of primary flakes is noted on the other scraper tools in
the assemblage.
Burins: eleven flakes have been identified as burins or potential burins. Burins can occur in both early and later Mesolithic sites and from the upper Palaeolithic through to the early Neolithic. Nearly all the burins recovered from this site had been produced on broken or waste flakes with the retouched burin point generally being central on one lateral edge One may be on a composite scraper/burin tool.
Notched Tools: are found through most periods of prehistory. Ten flakes have been identified as gravers or notched tools. These are on flakes of various thicknesses as they exhibit deliberate retouch to create a notch or burin beak on predominately left lateral, some are on right lateral. Does this characteristic reflect the handedness of the people who used them?
CSR-EX-20-135: notched blade (Plate 5), is of particular note, being created on a curved back blade truncated at the distal end with a semi abrupt flake removal on the dorsal face creating the notch on the left lateral, which has been retouched on the ventral face. The presence of notched tools is con- sidered evidence of a hunting camp and that the notches were used to shape arrow shafts.
Blades: twenty-two flakes can be classed as either blades, remnant blades, crested blades, backed knifes denticulated blades or other utilised flakes. Implements of note are:
CSR-EX-19-06: obliquely truncated blade
CSR-EX-19-06: curved back blade
CSR-EX-20-85: curved pen-knife blade, complete CSR-EX-20-42: hooked graver
CSR-EX-20-06: coarse denticulated blade
CSR-EX-20-10: blade with truncated distal missing but with fine denticula- tion on concaved right lateral.
Microliths: of the recovered flakes twenty-nine could be classed as microliths due to their diminutive size, sixteen pieces are indicative of systematic blade base technologies and are listed in Table 2. One bladelet (CSR-EX-20-40, Plate VI) has two longitudinal ridges a diffused percussion bulb and a snapped distal end which has affinity with early Mesolithic assemblages, the patination of this bladelet is white which differs from the majority of the assemblage which is mottled blue/ grey. The bladelet could be residual possibly indicating the site is a palimpsest of
PETE KNOWLES AND TIM ALLEN
286
TABLE 2: MICROLITHS RECOVERED FROM COURT STAIRS, RAMSGATE (DIMENSIONS IN MM)
Accession No
Segment
Shape
Edge retouch
Cortex
Cortex position
Length
Breadth
Thickness
Description
CSR-EX-19-8
mesial
rectangular
yes
yes
left lateral
22
16
3.3
broken mesial segment of bladelet small oblique edge at right distal, right lateral edge retouched
CSR-EX-19-9
proximal
flake
yes
left lateral
12.5
16.8
2.5
break at distal, possible flint chip, miss hit flake scar at proximal on dorsal, percussion bulb on ventral
CSR-EX-20-18
proximal
blade
yes
no
29.8
16
4.2
very thin oblique snapped blade
CSR-EX-20-19
proximal
blade
yes
no
15.7
13.3
1.8
obliquely truncated
CSR-EX-20-20
proximal
micro-burin
yes
no
19.1
12.6
2.7
obliquely truncated with break
notch on dorsal right lateral
CSR-EX-20-21
whole
blade
yes
no
16.5
12.2
3.4
whole micro blade
CSR-EX-20-22
mesial
blade
yes
no
19.3
13.1
3
ridge left of left lateral, oblique breaks on right left laterals towards proximal
CSR-EX-20-23
proximal
flake
yes
no
14.8
12.9
2.1
either proximal end of blade or
waste flake
CSR-EX-20-26
burin
spool
16.2
4
2.8
probable waste flake
CSR-EX-20-27
mesial
blade
yes
16.1
11.2
2.2
obliquely truncated
CSR-EX-20-40
proximal
bladelet
no
no
27.8
10.9
1.8
classic elongated proximal bladelet snapped, with two longitudinal ridges giving three longitudinal flake scars
CSR-EX-20-45
proximal
flake
yes
proximal
12.9
13.4
2.8
probable waste flake
CSR-
EX-20-112
proximal
flake
yes
left lateral
20.9
12.7
3.2
probable rejuvenation flake
CSR-
EX-20-113
proximal
micro-burin
yes
yes
dorsal
19.9
8.5
1.8
micro-burin with notch on dorsal right lateral
CSR-
EX-20-115
mesial
blade
no
15.3
8.6
2.9
trapezoidal section
CSR-
EX-20-116
distal
micro burin
no
20.6
13.2
3.9
oblique break proximal, micro-bu- rin at distal
CSR-
EX-20-139
distal
trapezoidal
yes
yes
proximal
16.1
21.2
5.4
recortication at proximal break at
right lateral white patinated
CSR-
EX-20-140
distal
symmetrical point
yes
no
distal
24.6
15.2
4.3
group C or E after Clarke, or Jaco- bi 10c
CSR-
EX-20-160
distal
flake
yes
21.2
16.8
6.5
indeterminate sub triangular flake
CSR-
EX-20-167
distal
trapezoidal
yes
11.8
18.4
5.2
truncated trapezoidal distal
CSR-
EX-20-168
distal
triangular
yes
yes
left lateral
12.8
14.9
3.2
dorsal flake scars
A VERY EARLY POST-GLACIAL FLINT-KNAPPING SITE AT COURT FARM, RAMSGATE
287
PETE KNOWLES AND TIM ALLEN
image Plate VI Microlith bladelet, proximal end.
different occupation phase. There are three micro burins, all proximal end pieces with the notch on the right lateral of the dorsal face this is evidence of the micro- burin technique for microliths production. The rest of the microliths are either indeterminate, or possibly small, utilised flakes or debitage. Several small flake blades are of an ovoid shape and could be classed as thumb nail size blades or scrapers. Core rejuvenation flakes (CSR-EX-20-112) were recovered that are indicative of the production of small narrow blades.
Hammer Stones: the presence of several hammer stones within the context adds to the evidence that this was a flint working site, although these hammer stones are too small to split the larger nodules recovered, they could certainly have been used for the flake production.
discussion and conclusions
The lithic implements in this assemblage could be attributed to technologies associated with all periods from the final late upper Palaeolithic (14,600 bp and 11,500 bp) through to the early Neolithic (6,000 bp). The inclusion of bladelets, micro-burins and small blades in the assemblage are associated with microlith production, this being a characteristic technology of the Mesolithic. There is an absence of very small microliths, with some of the blades being relatively large, suggestive of an early Mesolithic manufacture (smaller microliths are associated with a more closed boreal environment with larger blades being associated with an open pre-boreal environment of the period 10,000-9,700 bp (Bishop, B., pers. comms).
Several blades have fine denticulation, the results of a knapping technique that appears in assemblages of the early Mesolithic but is not present in later Mesolithic or early Neolithic assemblages. Blades from the early Mesolithic can be hard- or soft-hammer struck and predominately have concaved edges, whilst those from the early Neolithic have convex edges. The blades from the Court Stairs excavation have denticulations on both concave and convex edges.
A VERY EARLY POST-GLACIAL FLINT-KNAPPING SITE AT COURT FARM, RAMSGATE
A possible explanation for the absence of cores used for bladelet production is that cores were a valuable commodity, meaning that only fully exhausted cores were left with the associated rejuvenation flakes, and that useable cores were retained and remained with the knappers when they abandoned the site.
It has not been possible to date the assemblage with absolute confidence due to the conflicting typological evidence. For example, a microlith bladelet found within the assemblage may have been residual within context (28). If so, the other material could date to the terminal Mesolithic or early Neolithic (approximately 6,000 bp). However, as seems more likely given the apparent integrity of the assemblage within a single, discrete feature, it is more likely to be of early Mesolithic manufacture, a view supported by the presence of larger microliths and blades, these being more typical of manufacture during the period c.10,000-c.9,700 bp. The presence of micro-burins within the assemblage is also indicative of the early date-range.
Excluding the debitage, the flintwork assemblage from Court Stairs therefore probably consists of tools used by early Mesolithic hunter-gatherers occupying a pre-boreal open tundra environment. During this period, the site, which lies on the south facing slope of the Thanet chalk uplands, overlooked a low-lying plain that, following the subsequent sea-level rise, is now Sandwich Bay and the Goodwin Sands. It is therefore plausible that the hunter gatherers chose this spot due to its proximity to the raw flint, using the site to prepare tools before then returning to hunting in the resource-rich lowland that has now been subsumed by the sea. If so, the raw nodules present in the assemblage may have been stored for later preparation of more cores and blades following a return to the site which, for whatever reason, did not take place.
The large amount and the variety of tools and debitage within the flintwork assemblage allowed it to be dated on typological grounds with a high degree of confidence to the Early Mesolithic. The flintwork, therefore, almost certainly represents rare evidence for the re-occupation of south-east Britain at the end of the last Ice Age, sometime during the period 10,000-9,700 bp, when the environment was still largely open and unwooded. Furthermore, the presence of 90% of the worked material within a large, oval pit suggested that the assemblage was in situ within the pit which, whether naturally formed, man-made or partly modified, had been used specifically for the purpose of flint knapping.
Survival of this kind of intact features from this period are generally rare, particularly in low-lying areas in south-east Britain and more particularly in Kent:
Kent, for example, still appears to have an under-representation of either directly- dated or typotechnologically early Mesolithic sites, while West Sussex and Surrey have a very apparent dense concentration of sites on Lower Greensand geologies. Only a truly regional investigative approach to these distribution patterns can unpick the underlying controls over these differences (Pope et al. 2019, 7).
A total of 149 pieces of flintwork were eventually recovered from the above- mentioned pit (CRN 29) following full excavation. Subsequent specialist analysis identified the flintwork as an early Mesolithic assemblage, indicating that the pit was the earliest feature identified on the site and that the assemblage represented
PETE KNOWLES AND TIM ALLEN
an important and rare example of anthropic activity associated with the first occupation of south-east Britain at the end of the last Ice Age (the Devensian). This occurred during the early part of the climatic amelioration following Oxygen Isotope Stage 2 (the terminal and coldest part of the Devensian, see Darvill 1994, 28). During the early part of this climatic amelioration (O1S1) Britain remained part of the North European mainland, the area that is now the southern North Sea and English Channel was part of an extensive landmass known as Doggerland meaning that, at that time, the site would have been at a considerable distance from the sea, overlooking an extensive rolling plain to the south, a higher part of which is now represented by the Goodwin Sands. The interpretive significance of the in-situ Mesolithic material in the Court Stairs site in Ramsgate can therefore be categorised as high.
If, as seems highly probable, the recovered assemblage of flint implements and debitage were associated with a Mesolithic temporary camp for flint preparation, then this is potentially one of the more significant early post-glacial sites in Thanet, if not in east Kent.
bibliography
Allen, T. and Knowles, P., 2020, ‘An archaeological assessment report following an evaluation and subsequent investigation on land at Court Stairs Country Club, Pegwell Road, Ramsgate, Kent (Planning Reference F/TH/17/0321)’. Unpubl. archive report for Kent Archaeological Projects.
Asouti, E., 2006, ‘Factors affecting the formation of an archaeological wood charcoal assemblage’. Retrieved on 13th February 2015 from World Wide Web: http://pcwww.liv.ac.uk/~easouti/methodology_application.htm
Barton, N., 2003, ‘Nea Farm, Somerley Near Ringwood, Hampshire, Phase II, A Post
Excavation Assessment for Tarmac Southern Limited’, unpubl. report.
Beijerinck, W., 1947, Zadenatlas der Nederlandsche Flora, Veenman and Zonen, Wagen-
ingen.
Bishop, B. and Lyne, M., 2008, Mesolithic Occupation and later prehistoric activity at
Hillborough, near Reculver, Pre-Construct Archaeology Ltd.
Boardman, S. and Jones, G., 1990, ‘Experiments on the Effect of Charring on Cereal plant
Components’, in Journal of Archaeological Science, 17, 1-11.
Bonsal, C., 1985, The Mesolithic in Europe, papers presented at the third international symposium. John Donald Publishers Edinburgh.
Bordes, F., 1961, ‘Typologie du Paléolithique Ancien et Moyen’, Cahiers du Quaternaire 1, Paris.
Butler, C., 2005, Prehistoric Flintwork, The History Press.
Campbell, G., Moffett, L and Straker, V., 2011, Environmental Archaeology. A Guide to the Theory and Practice of Methods, from Sampling and Recovery to Post-excavation (second edn), Portsmouth, English Heritage.
Cappers, R.J.T., Bekker, R.M. and Jans, J.E.A., 2006, Digital Zadenatlas Van Nederlands
- Digital Seeds Atlas of the Netherlands, Groningen Archaeological Studies Volume 4.
Groningen: Barkhius Publishing, Groningen.
Charles, M., 1984, ‘Introductory remarks on the cereals.’ Bulletin on Sumerian Agriculture
1, 17-31.
Clark, J.G.D., 1932, ‘The Date of the Plano-Convex Flint-Knife in England and Wales’,
The Antiquaries Journal, XII, 158-162.
A VERY EARLY POST-GLACIAL FLINT-KNAPPING SITE AT COURT FARM, RAMSGATE
Conneller, C. and Warren, G., 2006, Mesolithic Britain and Ireland, New Approaches, Tempus.
Darvill, T., 1994, Prehistoric Britain, Batsford Ltd, London.
Gallois, R.W., 1965, The Wealden District, Geological Survey, London.
Jacobi, R., 2005, ‘Some Observations on the Lithic Artefacts from Avelin’s Hole’, Proc. Uni. Bristol Spelaeol. Soc.
Jacomet, S., 2006, Identification of cereal remains from archaeological sites (second edn),
Basel, Basel University Archaeobotany Lab IPAS.
Kent Archaeological Projects, 2019, ‘An archaeological site-specific written scheme of investigation (Parts A &B) for an archaeological evaluation by trial trench prior to prior to a development on land at Court Stairs Country Club, Pegwell Road, Ramsgate, Kent (Planning Reference F/TH/17/0321)’.
Kent Archaeological Projects, 2020, ‘Parts A & B specifications for an archaeological investigation on land at Court Stairs Country Club, Pegwell Road, Ramsgate, Kent (Planning Reference F/TH/17/0321)’.
Kerney, M.P. and Cameron R.A.D., 1979, Land Snails of Britain and North-West Europe, London, Harper Collins Publishers.
Milner, N. et al., 2018, Star Carr Volume 2: Studies in technology, subsistence and environment, White Rose University Press.
Moody, G., 2007, ‘Court Stairs Lodge Pegwell Road Ramsgate, Interim Excavation Report’, unpubl., Trust for Thanet Archaeology.
Moody, G., 2008, The Isle of Thanet from Prehistory to the Norman Conquest, The History Press.
Pope, M., Wells, C., Scott, B., Maxted, A., Haycorn, N., Farr, L., Branch, N. and Blinkhorn, E., 2019, South East Research Framework Resource Assessment and Research Agenda for the Upper Palaeolithic and Mesolithic (2011 with revisions in 2014, 2018 and 2019).
Shepherd, W., 1972, Flint, Its Origin, Properties and Uses, Faber and Faber, London.
Smart, T.L. and Hoffman, E.S., 1988, ‘Environmental Interpretation of Archaeological Charcoal’, in Hastorf, C.A. and Popper, V.S., Current Palaeobotany, Chicago and London, University of Chicago Press.
Sørensen, M. et al., The Early Mesolithic in Southern Scandinavia and Northern Germany. Stace, C., 2010, New Flora of the British Isles, 3rd edn, CUP.
Street, M., 1998, ‘A Preboreal Lithic Assemblage from the Lower Rhineland Site of Bedburg-Konigshoven, Germany’, in Stone Age Archaeology, Essays in honour of John Wymer, Lithic Studies Society Occas. Paper 6.
Trust for Thanet Archaeology, 2007, ‘Court Stairs lodge, Pegwell Road, Ramsgate, Interim Excavation Report’.
Wymer, J.J., 1991, Mesolithic Britain, Shire Archaeology.
NEW LIGHT ON STEPHEN GRAY, frs (1666-1736), CANTERBURY FREEMAN DYER
stephen williamson
Stephen Gray, an early English scientist, had an intriguing career. For the first 40 years of his life he plied his trade as a dyer in Canterbury. He subsequently achieved fame for his pioneering experiments on the conduction of electricity for which he was awarded the first Royal Society’s Copley Medal in 1731: ‘as an encouragement to him for the readiness he has always shown in obliging the Society with his discoveries and improvements in this part of Natural Knowledge’, and in 1733 he was elected a Fellow. However, long before this he had involved himself in a broad area of science that included the study of fossils, geology, optics and astronomy. His first known scientific correspondence (about water microscopes) is with the Royal Society in 1696. By 1707 his reputation as an astronomer was sufficiently strong for Roger Cotes frs (1682-1716) to invite him to be his assistant at the newly established observatory at Trinity College, Cambridge.
This article builds on the work of others1 trying to uncover how someone from his background succeeded in making his mark. It seeks to answer in particular how he established contact with the Royal Society and first became interested in Science and in particular in Astronomy.
Stephen Gray was baptised on the 26 December 1666 at All Saints, Canterbury. His parents were Matthias Gray, a dyer, and Ann Tilman who had married in 1658 at Canterbury Cathedral. Their four surviving sons became Canterbury Freemen by paternity: Thomas, Freeman dyer 1681, Matthias, Freeman grocer 1682, John, Freeman carpenter 1691, and Stephen, Freeman dyer 1692.
There is no record of Stephen being one of the fifty free scholars at the Kings School in the Cathedral Precincts, so it may be that as he knew some Latin [LM, p. 86] he went to the nearby school at the Eastbridge Hospital.
His father’s house in Best Lane was recorded with five hearths in the 1664 hearth tax returns (All Saints parish), which suggests he was reasonably prosperous. After his father’s death the lease of the house transferred to his mother until 1694, and then to his brother John until 1706 when it is transferred to Jacob Janeway.2 Janeway happens to be the key figure linking Stephen to the Royal Society (see below).
The Contacts: Henry Hunt and Jacob Janeway
Stephen Gray’s first extant letter3 was sent on 3 February 1695/6 to Henry Hunt,
the then Demonstrator at the Royal Society (an example of his work is at Fig. 1):
NEW LIGHT ON STEPHEN GRAY, FRS (1666-1736), CANTERBURT FREEMAN DYER
image image
Fig. 1 Drawings of ‘A giant Swiss Hussar’ and ‘Kidney and Bladder Stones’ by Henry
Hunt both ref. MS/131, reproduced by permission of @The Royal Society.
Sir, I heer return you the account of these Optic physiological Experiments which the time I could spare from my necessitous Avocations for a livelihood have this winter Permitted me to make … Have since my Brother was with you chanced to light upon an other Experiment which I have incerted.
Further correspondence with Hunt followed. This extract from a 1701 letter4 concerning ‘drawing the Meridian Line by the Pole Star, and finding the hour by the same’, advises about his telescope:
My own observations assure me, that the Pole-Star may be seen in the day time with a Telescope of 16 foot, for with one of this length I saw that Star on the 26th of April, this present year 1701, from 4 a Clock in the morning till 7, and cou’d have seen it longer had not Clouds interposed.
It is interesting that the 1695/6 letter mentions that Henry Hunt knows one of Stephen Gray’s brothers (see below).
Henry (Harry) Hunt had been employed by Robert Hooke frs (1635-1703), Professor of Geometry at Gresham College. In Hooke’s time the Royal Society met at Gresham College, and Hooke oversaw the Royal Society Library and
STEPHEN WILLIAMSON
Repository. There is a letter from Hooke to John Aubrey frs (1626-1697) dated 24 August 1675:5
I have preferred Harry to Mr Montacue6 who will imploy him in painting pictures these two or 3 years, and is so pleased with him that he hath promised to bear his charges to Italy that he may see and improve himself. And I doubt not but he will with ease get his £150 or £200 per annum. He hath lately done some peices extraordinary well, & will be paid for them accordingly.
Hunt remained close to Hooke till his death.7 On 2 November 1676 Hunt succeeded Richard Shortgrave as Operator to the Royal Society at a salary of £20/yr. Several ground plans of London Church sites were drawn by him. He was paid £6 10s. on 7 July 1677 for 13 plans.8 He engraved plates for the Royal Society’s journal ‘Philosophical Transactions’, and some of his excellent drawings survive.
Hunt was appointed Keeper of the Royal Society Library and Repository on 25 October 1696 at a salary of £40/yr. He also developed a sideline in selling Scientific Instruments:9
Hooke’s Marine Barometer which could be obtained from Mr Henry Hunt, Operator
to the Royal Society.
These sales must have been lucrative. When the Royal Society moved from Gresham College to Crane Court in 1710 he was able to lend the Treasurer £464 to help repay the Crane Court mortgage.
Among the beneficiaries of Henry Hunt’s will was his uncle Mr Jacob Janeway of Canterbury.10 Jacob Janeway (c.1648-1719) was a son of William Janeway (1600- 1654). William was Rector of Kelshall in Hertfordshire as was his son William (1631-1668). Henry seems to have married the latter’s daughter Elizabeth.11 Benjamin Janeway, the youngest brother, was baptised 7 June 1654 at Kelshall. Benjamin is referred to in Robert Hooke’s Diary.12 He died young (17 Jun. 1674, RH p. 108). He also worked with Henry Hunt.
Professor Kusukawa, in an article in Notes and Records of the Royal Society,13
has:
Mr Nun executor to Mr Hunt lately deceased having sent a Box with several copper plates the Box was opened in which was found the following wrot by Mr Hunts own hand. These Copper Plates were graved by Ben: Janeway and Hen: Hunt, anno 1671 for the Right Reverend John Wilkins Bishop of Chester, in order to his Universal Character, and after his Decease were committed to my care by the Reverend John Tillotson Dean of Canterbury, which I commit to the Royal Society as liklyest to perfect what my Bishop had not time to performe. Hen: Hunt.
As well as ‘Benjamin Janeway’a Mr Janeway is referenced in Hooke’s diary, tendering money from Dr Tillotson (20 Nov 1673, RH p. 70). The reference to Tillotson makes it clear that Mr Janeway was Jacob Janeway. In his time Dr John Tillotson FRS (1630-1694) was regarded as one of the best preachers in England, known for his anti-Papist views. He often preached at St Lawrence Jewry, as ‘Tuesday lecturer’ between 1664 and 1694, where John Wilkins frs (1614-1672) (one of founders of the Royal Society – he had studied astronomy at university) was Vicar from 1662-
NEW LIGHT ON STEPHEN GRAY, FRS (1666-1736), CANTERBURT FREEMAN DYER
1666. Tillotson became Dean of Canterbury in 1672 and Archbishop of Canterbury in 1691. Tillotson’s interest in science is demonstrated by his election to the Royal Society in 1672. Jacob Janeway seems to have been his amanuensis, and Janeway was ‘looked after’ when Tillotson was appointed Dean at Canterbury.
There is a document dated 10 Dec 1673 in Canterbury Cathedral Archives14 showing that John Somner, mercer, of Canterbury and Jacob Janeway, gent, of London were appointed as the keepers of Short wood in Throwley. Lambeth Palace Archives15 have the appointments of the woodreeves or keepers of the Archbishop’s woods in Kent, including Jacob Janeway of Canterbury Kent, gent., 30 March 1682.
Jacob Janeway married Frances Bathon16 in 1679 also at St Lawrence Jewry, and they lived the rest of their lives in Canterbury. As well as his woodreeve duties he seems to have been a clerk of works17 for the Dean and Chapter of Canterbury. It seems that Jacob Janeway remained a valued aide until Tillotson’s death. In the 1690s Jacob Janeway is known to have become a Customs Officer.
The Gray Family’s links to Jacob Janeway
The Grays were an upwardly mobile family. Stephen’s brother Matthias (c.1661- 1706) particularly so. He became a Canterbury Councillor in 1688, an Alderman in 1691, and was Mayor in 1692 and 1700 [LM, p. 29]. Matthias Gray’s civic responsibilities, particularly as Mayor, would have brought him into contact with men like Jacob Janeway on relatively equal social terms. Jacob’s predecessor as woodreeve was John Somner,18 and in 1693 Matthias married the widow of his son, another John Somner. At any rate the connection to the Somners provides a further link to the Royal Society. A fossil discovery on John Somner’s property at Chartham had attracted considerable attention at the Royal Society (Fig. 2). First thought to be hippopotamus teeth, they were catalogued correctly as those of a rhinoceros in 1681 by Nehemiah Grew frs (1641-1712) in his ‘Natural and Artificial Rarities belonging to the Royal Society’.
In a letter in 1701 Stephen Gray writes to Hans Sloane frs (1660-1753), Secretary to the Royal Society, about his inquiry concerning the bones:19
What bones and drawings of them that were dugg up at Chartham are in the hands of Mr Alderman Gray whom you must suppose I needs know which was a little pleasing to me he being my own Elder Brother. His present wife was the wife of Mr John Somner’s son for whom he built the house where the bones were dug up. She says she was there when her father Somner was let down into the well by a Basket and saw the bones soe soon as brought up and that not longe after they were all except one tooth put into an oval wooden Box and sent to Oxford haveing first caused a limner to draw some of the Most Remarkable one.
So, it seems certain that Matthias Gray is the brother in the 1695/6 letter, and it seems probable that before Hooke’s 1697 lecture, Hunt had asked his uncle Jacob Janeway about the Chartham fossils on Hooke’s behalf. This would explain why Hunt, on a visit to his uncle, might have been introduced to Matthias, and subsequently to his brother, amateur scientist, Stephen.
Henry Hunt clearly encouraged Stephen Gray. Stephen borrowed Galileo’s works
image
STEPHEN WILLIAMSON
Fig. 2 Illustrations of teeth from 1703 edition of William Somner’s The Antiquities of Canterbury.
and Scheiner’s book on Sunspots20 [LM, p. 86] from the Royal Society. Stephen was also given access to copies of ‘Philosophical Transactions’. Moreover, Hunt probably gave him introductions not just to Sloane, but also to the Astronomer Royal, John Flamsteed frs (1646-1719), to whom by 1699 Stephen was writing the first of many letters (see below).
The probable inspiration: Thomas Hill
It remains to explain who inspired Stephen Gray’s initial interest in Science, particularly in Astronomy. The likeliest person is a Thomas Hill. These letters concerning the sighting of a comet in 1680/1 shed light on this conclusion:
Letter (part) from Flamsteed to Isaac Newton frs (1642-1727) dated 7 March 1680/1.21
... to these may be added an observation of the comet made at Canterbury by one Hill an artificer with an instrument of 4 foot Radius on Friday morning Nov 11 whereby hee gives me its place then in Virgo 12 with two degrees North latitude.
Letter from Hill to Flamsteed:22
Canterbury Dec 29. 1681 Mr Flamsteed,
I am very sory yt it happened so I could not write before this to yr Request about the
Comet, about my observations taken from the fixed starrs. I have here under writen three. The first was the 12 Nov. 80: 5 hours A:M: (as was before wch I gave) 12 degr in Virgo 2d north latitude, for the distance I found it by Instrument it made an Angle upon the arch of a great circle, from the Lyons heart 17 deg to the east-ward and the
NEW LIGHT ON STEPHEN GRAY, FRS (1666-1736), CANTERBURT FREEMAN DYER
distance it likwise made from the Lyons Tail was an Angle of somthing more than
11 degr: south towards the west
January the 3d, 8 hours P:M: the Comet appeared almost in a right line betweene Pegasus wing, and Andromeda’s head, the distances found of each upon the Limbe was 14 degr: ½ the one, and 7 degr: the other,
Feb : the 3d, 8 hours P:M : the distance I then tooke was from the Goate Star, 27 degr:, and likwis from the neeres of the Triang was 12 degr, its place very neer Medusa’s head, wch was my Last observation that I could take, and by those distances I found his latitude as I write before to you. I desire a line from you, whether you find it by this as I have, and if you please also to send me the observation from Roome as you promis me, I shall be much ingauged to you for it.
Letter (part) from Newton to Flamsteed dated 19 September 1685:23
Trinity College, Cambridge
SIR, I have been for a great while indebted to you many thanks for your com- munications particularly for your last about Saturn; but imagining I should have occasion to trouble you again, I deferred, in order that I might not cumber you with more letters than were necessary. I have not yet computed the orbit of a comet, but am now going about it, and taking that of 1680 into consideration, it seems very probable that those of November and December were the same comet. But I am at a loss in the observations you sent me of a Canterbury artificer made on Friday morning, November 11, the comet being then in Virgo 12, with 2 degrees north latitude (Fig. 3). But November 11 fell on Thursday, and in Cassini’s treatise of this comet the day of the month is November 13. If you have the day noted down, I beg the favour you would assure me which it is.
Letter (part) from Flamsteed to Newton dated 26 September 1685:24
Yours of the 19th instant came to hand on Tuesday last, I am very glad to find by it, that you have the motions of comets under consideration. Hitherto, we have only groped out the lines of their motion. If they may be reduced to a theory, it will be very welcome news to us. As for the Canterbury observation, it is a very coarse one; I discoursed with the person that made it, but found him a very ignorant well willer; yet, I believe his observations as good as those of Cellio, made at Rome, which, if I forget not, I sent you, I have here, included, given you part of a letter, I received from him concerning it, whereby you will find the time, November 12th, at 5 hours mane, which is the 11th, 17 hours p.m. which clears the business.
Edmond Halley FRS (1656-1742) had observed this comet on 8 December 1680 in the early morning with Giovanni Cassini in Paris. Two days later it appeared as a spectacular comet in the evening. The comet was the first ever to be initially found with a telescope.25 Apparently the weather in Northern Europe made observation in November difficult, so Hill’s ‘early’ November observations were special. They were communicated to Halley by Dean Tillotson in a letter from London dated 7 March 1680/1:26
I put you some charge by the enclosure, wch yet I hope will be acceptable to you. It is the observations of our Canterbury Astronomer, Mr Hill of the late Comet, wch he told me within this last fortnight appear’d still but was very little. He is not a learned man but very industrious. I submit it to Mr Haley’s better judgem’t …
STEPHEN WILLIAMSON
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Fig. 3 Thomas Hill’s observations of 1680/1 comet sent to Newton. Reproduced by
kind permission of the Syndics of Cambridge University Library. Classmark MS-ADD-03965-014-00034.jpg (MS Add.3965, f.565r).
In fact a paper from Hill had already been read on the 19 January 1680/1 at the Royal Society Council Meeting presided over by Sir Christopher Wren frs (1632- 1723). The minutes have:
NEW LIGHT ON STEPHEN GRAY, FRS (1666-1736), CANTERBURT FREEMAN DYER
Mr Thomas Hill’s paper concerning comets sent by Dr Tillotson was perused, and
ordered to be copied.
It turned out Hill’s observations were important in the debate about the 1680 comet’s orbit. Newton initially thought there were two comets. Subsequently his analysis of the comet data showed that it was a single comet with a nearly parabolic orbit: a necessary consequence if its attraction to the sun followed an inverse square law. Firstly, as the 1685 letters quoted above show, Newton had to clarify Hill’s dates. Having done so he included Hill’s data in Principia (first published in 1687):27
Nov. 11, the tail just begun to shew itself, but did not appear above ½ deg long,
through a 10ft telescope.
Thomas Hill of Canterbury thus appears to have possessed a 10ft telescope. He
was also known to Robert Hooke.28
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Fig. 4 Part of Thomas Hill’s map of Canterbury Precincts from 1703 edition of William Somner’s, The Antiquities of Canterbury.
Who was this Thomas Hill, and could he have inspired Stephen Gray’s interest in Astronomical Observation? It can be shown that it is the Thomas Hill who drew the fine 1680 map of Canterbury Cathedral Precincts that appears in the 1703 edition of William Somner’s The Antiquities of Canterbury (plate 22) (Fig. 4). His signature is on the drawing. This Thomas Hill was a surveyor29 who produced estate plans of Vauxhall Manor, Southwark30 and Walworth Manor, London31 for the Dean and Chapter of Canterbury in 1681. He also wrote the Registers for St Paul’s Parish, Canterbury.32 Fortunately, the signature of Thomas Hill, the Astronomer, is preserved in his letters to Flamsteed as seen in Fig. 5. The signatures of surveyor and astronomer are identical.
Dean Tillotson in a letter dated 25 April 168133 wrote about visiting the estates of Walworth, Vauxhall and Newington. He asked for the relevant leases and terriers to be delivered via Mr Janeway, and adds that Mr Hill will also be needed. This verifies that Thomas Hill and Jacob Janeway knew each other.
STEPHEN WILLIAMSON
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Fig. 5 Letter from Thomas Hill to John Flamsteed. Reproduced by kind permission of the Syndics of Cambridge University Library. Classmark MS-RGO-00001-00019-000- 00086-R.jpg (RGO 1/19, f.86r).
NEW LIGHT ON STEPHEN GRAY, FRS (1666-1736), CANTERBURT FREEMAN DYER
The parentage of Thomas Hill has not been determined, but given that the drawing in Fig. 4 references Bow Steeple, it seems likely that he was a bright young man on either Hooke’s or Wren’s staff when St Mary Le Bow Church was being rebuilt in 1671-3 following the Great Fire of London. It is known from his Diary that Hooke was very friendly with both Tillotson and his wife (e.g. RH p. 8), and Tillotson probably approached Hooke when he needed a surveyor. Amateur astronomer Hill seems an excellent fit for the science-loving Tillotson. Thomas Hill incidentally fathered a second generation of surveyors based in Canterbury who made a living from estate drawings.34
Gray’s career after 1707
Stephen Gray stayed in Canterbury, working as a dyer, until 1707 when he was persuaded to go to Trinity College, Cambridge. There Roger Cotes, Plumerian Professor of Astronomy and Experimental Philosophy and Editor of the 2nd edition of Newton’s Principia, was setting up an observatory above Trinity Great Gate.
Soon Stephen regretted moving and he returned to Canterbury in 1708. He found ‘Cambridge mean, the facilities poor, and he was disdainful of Cotes’s intention to repeat Flamsteed’s work on the position of stars’ as his letter to Flamsteed dated 6 September 1708 quoted in LM [p. 40] illustrates:35
I had better have taken your advice which was more agreeable to my own inclination had I not been persuaded by the solicitations of my friends but we little thought or suspected such men could have been soe mercenary as I find they are … I saw nothing there that might deserve your notice there was indeed that which they call their Observatory for noe other Reason that I could perceive than that some time or other they intend to make it soe.
However, his short stay in Cambridge was remembered by William Stukeley frs (1687-1765), amateur scientist, personal friend of Newton and author of Memoirs of Sir Isaac Newton’s Life published in 1752. In his own memoirs Stukeley wrote:36
Mr Stephen Gray, of Canterbury, was now in our university as an assistant to Mr Cotes Professor of Astronomy for whom they built the observatory in Trinity College, a very ingenious man, well versed in Philosophy, Astronomy, Optics, Mechanics and uncle to Mr John Gray37 of our College, my Junior, studied Physick, a lad of very good parts and Industry with whom I was particularly acquainted, since took his Batchelor of Physick Degree, and now practises at Canterbury his Native country. We three used to smoak many a pipe together and try Various Experiments in Philosophy. Since then Mr Stephen lived with Dr Desaguliers, and assisted him in lectures, as in his experiments before the Royal Society. Now he lives in the Charterhouse as one of the gentleman pensioners there. He invented the water microscope mentiond in the Philosophic Transactions; one whereof I made myself about this time.
Despite his unhappy Cambridge experience Stephen Gray went on to exchange the physical demands of his trade for a life where he could concentrate on science. He wrote from Canterbury to Hans Sloane then Secretary and later President of the Royal Society on the 31 July 1711:38
I have for many years spent the far greatest part of my time that the avocations for
STEPHEN WILLIAMSON
a subsistance would permitt me in the studie of astronomy and had been at noe little charge for books, instruments and other materials, being Prompted thereto chiefly by the natural tendency of my Genius, though not altogether without hopes that some greater advantage might at one time or other attend then barely the satisfection of my inclinations but finde it otherwise and now being in the 45th year of my age think it time to consider how I shall Procure a comfortable Subsistance being already soe Infirme as not to be able to follow my Imploy without much more Difficulty and Pain than in former years caused by a strain I received in my back some years agoe which brought on me the Dolor Coxendicis.
The mathematician Brook Taylor frs (1685-1731) wrote on Gray’s behalf to John
Keill frs (1671-1721) on the 3 July 1713 from Bifrons, near Bridge, Canterbury:39
I am very much obliged to you for the great readiness you are pleased to shew to
assist Stephen Gray upon my account. He is a very fit person for the service of the
R.S. wherefore I thought to recommend him very heartily, but the poor man is so very bashful that I can by no means prevail upon him to think of that business, now it seems to be so near by the death of Hunt he has such dreadful apprehensions of so many virtuosos.
Eventually Stephen Gray did move, probably as a result of Keill’s influence.40 From about 1715 to 1719 he lodged near Westminster Bridge with John Theophilus Desaguliers frs (1683-1744), who was also interested in electricity, sometimes staying with John Godfrey, landowner and amateur astronomer, at Norton Court near Faversham. Then in 1719 he obtained a ‘grace and favour’ home at the Charterhouse, London, from where he continued his electrical experiments, regularly demonstrating to visitors, right up to his death in 1736. Amongst other things he showed that he could transmit messages using electricity over distances of ½ mile. In doing so he can justifiably be said to have initiated the science of electrical communication.
Conclusions
The precise route of Stephen Gray’s amazing journey to become a leading scientist is now a little clearer. It was not straightforward. It involved a chance connection with the Royal Society through the family of Jacob Janeway and almost certainly an encounter in his teens with an inspirational astronomer, Thomas Hill. It is worth recording that both were appointments made by the science-loving Dean Tillotson. Neither detract from the genius and determination of Stephen Gray himself.
endnotes
E.g. Robert Chipman, ‘The Manuscript Letters of Stephen Gray’, Isis, vol. 49, no. 4 (Dec. 1958),
pp. 414-433; L. Murdin, Under Newton’s shadow: astronomical practices in the seventeenth century (Hilger, Bristol 1985) [quoted hereafter in text as ‘LM’]; David H. Clark and Stephen P.H. Clark, Newton’s Tyranny, 2001.
Canterbury Cathedral Archives, CCA-DCc-BB/77/51-63.
Royal Society Records, ref. EL/G1/49.
Royal Society’s Philosophical Transactions, 1701, vol. 22, pp. 568 ff.
British Library, Egerton MS 2231, fols 200-1.
Ralph Montagu, British Ambassador to Court of King Louis XIV from 1669-1678.
NEW LIGHT ON STEPHEN GRAY, FRS (1666-1736), CANTERBURT FREEMAN DYER
See also Diary of Robert Hooke 1688-90 and 1692-3, ed. R. Gunther, 1935.
Quoted on p. 73 of City Churches of Sir Christopher Wren by Paul Jeffery, 2007. Wren and Hooke worked together, and Hooke’s ‘Office’ prepared many plans for Wren.
Philosophical Transactions, 1701, vol. 22, pp. 791 ff.
Will of Henry Hunt of St Bridget, Fleet Street 26 June 1713, TNA PROB 11/533.
Hunt’s will refers to his deceased nephew John Hunt Vicar of Thorpe. CCED online records have John Hunt, Vicar of Thorpe, from 1700-1713. Alumni Cantabrigienses advises John as son of John, surgeon of Rostherne, Cheshire. A Henry Hunt married Elizabeth Janney (Janeway?) at Rostherne 17 October 1679. Elizabeth Janeway, daughter of William, baptised Kelshall 30 August 1660. A Hannah Hunt, daughter of Henry and Elizabeth Hunt, baptised at St Stephen, Coleman Street, London 26 March 1682. Hannah married Jonathan Nunn, executor of will, on 6 February 1703 at All Hallows London.
Diary of Robert Hooke 1672-1680, transcribed from the original in the possession of the Corporation of the City of London (Guildhall library), ed. by Henry W Robinson and Walter Adams, 1935, Taylor and Francis [hereafter quoted as ‘RH’].
S. Kusukawa, ‘Picturing knowledge in the early Royal Society: the examples of Richard Waller and Henry Hunt’, Notes and Records of the Royal Society, 65 (2011), 273-94, note 15.
CCA-DCc-BB/68/45.
LPA, AA/EDT/T/S/132-3.
London Marriage Allegation: Jacob Janeway, of St Martin’s, Ludgate, London, Bachr, abt 28, & Frances Bathon, of St Giles in the Fields, Middx., Spr, abt 22, with consent of her parents; at St Lawrence Jewry, London. 18 December 1679. Frances Bathon, daughter of John and Grace Bathon, was baptised Canterbury Cathedral 8 October 1657.
CCA-DCc-Fabric/12/2 (1693/4).
Appointment by Archbishop Juxon of John Somner of Canterbury, Kent, gent., and Robert, his son, 31 December 1660 as woodreeve, with confirmation by the dean and chapter of Canterbury, 2 April 1661. Lambeth Palace Archives AA/EDT/T/S/135. See also note 14.
British Library Sloane Collection MS 4038 f274.
Christoph Scheiner, Rosa Ursina sive Sol, Bracciano, 1626-30.
Cambridge University Library, Portsmouth Collection Add 3979.2.
Cambridge University Library, Portsmouth Collection Add 3979.4.
Quoted in Biographica Britannia, vol. 5, p. 3226, 1760 in article on Newton.
Cambridge University Library, Portsmouth Collection Add 3979.8.
Gottfried Kirch at Coburg in Germany on 4 November 1680.
British Library, Add 4236 f227.
Newton, Principia, vol. 2, p. 358, 1729 edn.
Robert Hooke’s, ‘Posthumous Works’, 1705 refers to Thomas Hill’s observations: Mr Thomas Hill saw it first the 12th of November, at half an hour after Five in the Morning, and by its distances from Cor and Cauda Leonis, taken with an instrument of four foot and a half Radius, he found it then, as he says, in 12 Degrees of Virgo, and in two Degrees of North Latitude, with a slow Motion, having not passed above four Degrees in three days. Its Tail was then about 30 degrees long. Also Hooke’s Diary for 9 Dec. 1689 has ‘Hill of Canterbury dead’.
Stephen Gray in a paper on Parhelia published in Philosophical Transactions (No. 21, p. 126) in 1699 mentions having a theodolite – a surveyor’s instrument – not necessarily something a dyer/ astronomer would have.
British Library, Add 34790.
Canterbury Cathedral Archives CCA-Map/19.
Thomas and Mary Hill had a son Francis baptised at Canterbury Cathedral in 1678, and another Jared baptised at St Paul’s, Canterbury in 1689. Both became surveyors. For more see F. Hull’s article Kentish Mapmakers of the 17th Century in Archaeologia Cantiana, 109, 1991, 63-83.
Canterbury Cathedral Archives, CCA-DCc-CantLet/176.
See C. Williams, 2021, ‘The Hales Palace estate map recovered to Canterbury’, Archaeologia Cantiana, 142, 326-30.
STEPHEN WILLIAMSON
Cambridge University Library, RGO 1/37.
The Family Memoirs of the Rev. William Stukeley, m.d., vol. 1, p. 41, 1882.
John Gray (1688-1737), son of Stephen’s brother Matthias, was a Canterbury doctor.
British Library, Sloane MS 4042 f336.
Royal Society Correspondence, MS 82 fol. 5.
Brook Taylor and John Desaguliers were doctoral students of mathematician John Keill.
EXCAVATIONS AT MARGETTS PIT, BURHAM:
LARGE-SCALE MANUFACTURE OF ARTEFACTS IN LATE BRONZE AGE/EARLY IRON AGE
erica gittins
Excavations by Wessex Archaeology at Margetts Pit, a 1.9 ha area to the north- west of the village of Burham on the east side of the Medway valley on the lower slopes of the North Downs (NGR 572050 162220; Fig. 1), revealed evidence for activity dating from the Neolithic until the Saxon period. Limited use of the site in the Neolithic and earlier Bronze Age was followed by a set of Middle Bronze and Middle to Late Bronze Age inhumation and cremation burials which in turn preceded the establishment of a Late Bronze Age field system.
Evidence of a substantial industry manufacturing armlets from mudstone was also found, dating from the Late Bronze Age and continuing into the Early Iron Age. The early date of this industry gives the site a national importance. Activity in the Middle Iron Age was very much reduced in scale. A sub-rectangular double- ditched enclosure during the Late Iron Age continued to be used into the early Romano-British period. Saxon evidence is scant but appears to include domestic and industrial activities.
Early Prehistory
Despite the proximity of the site to a Neolithic causewayed enclosure, 60m to the north-west (Fig. 1), only two features dated to the Late Neolithic period. Pit 1969, towards the north-west corner of the site, was 0.6m in diameter and 0.26m deep, with a single fill containing one sherd of Woodlands-type Grooved Ware pottery, 20 pieces of struck flint, a small number of unidentifiable animal bone fragments and burnt flint. Pit 2932, 40m to the south-west, was 0.8m in diameter and 0.2m deep. Its lower fill contained two joining fragments of a Neolithic Cornish stone axe, an undiagnostic body sherd in a similar fabric to the Grooved Ware from pit 1969, animal bone and burnt flint. The upper fill comprised a dump of burnt material containing struck and burnt flint, stone and animal bone along with charred hazelnut shells. Charcoal from this deposit was dominated by Taxus baccata (yew), with a range of other species including Ulmus (elm), Corylus (hazel), Maloideae (hawthorn group) and Fraxinus (ash). The dominance of yew is unusual, as this is not usually favoured for fuel, but often associated with artefact making (Gale and Cutler 2000, 396-397), especially long-bows (Coles, Heal and Orme 1978, 10). The only evidence of Beaker and Early Bronze Age activity was ten abraded pot sherds (two possibly from Collared Urns) found redeposited in later features.
ERICA GITTINS
London
Kent
Chatham
Site
R. Thames
Rochester
Maidstone
Development area Excavated Area Archeological feature Hedge line
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Geophysical Survey: Survey area
Possible archaeological feature
Tunbridge Wells
Ashford
0 100m
Scale for main plan
572000
572200
Neolithic causewayed enclosure
Margetts
162200
Court Road
Lane
Contains Ordnance Survey data © Crown copyright and database right 2021
Fig. 1 Plan of archaeological features, Margetts Pit, Burham.
MARGETTS PIT: MANUFACTURE OF LATE BRONZE AGE/EARLY IRON AGE ARTEFACTS
Middle to Late Bronze Age
Cremated bone derived from the remains of up to 17 unurned burials. Three other features contained what appears to represent formal deposits of pyre debris, and a fourth held a largely empty Earliest Iron Age vessel. The unburnt bone included remains from four inhumation burials; redeposited bone was found in one of the graves and two other features.
Radiocarbon dating of bone from four inhumation graves (408, 411, 419 and 982) and six cremation-related deposits (280, 316, 331, 380, 1415 and 1691) returned Middle Bronze Age dates for grave 982 and cremation-related deposit 1691. A Late Bronze Age date was returned for cremation burial 331, while all the others lay across the Middle to Late Bronze Age transition. It is therefore likely that contemporary Middle and Middle to Late Bronze Age settlement, agricultural and/or industrial activity was occurring nearby but outside the limit of excavation. Most of the cremation-related deposits clustered in the south-west corner of the site forming a small, dispersed cemetery. With only a single exception, the inhumations and redeposited unburnt bone lay in an irregular east-west line across the northern portion of the site. Two of the cremation burials (279 and 315) contained fragments of amber, probably from beads or their manufacture.
Otherwise, none of the burials were accompanied by any artefacts which could be considered as formal grave goods.
ADNA analysis was undertaken of the petrous bone from grave 982 and the human tooth from grave 408. The person buried in grave 982 may have moved to Kent from somewhere in present-day France or be a descendant of recent migrants. Strontium, oxygen, and carbon values from tooth enamel were within expected ranges for the local region. However, since these values are not unique to the UK and are comparable to those from continental Europe, including France (Willmes et al. 2018) alternative points of origin during childhood cannot be excluded. For the burial in grave 408, the data is more ambiguous and does not necessarily indicate that the individual was a migrant or descendant of recent migrants.
Later Prehistoric settlement and stone working
One of the most notable results of the Margetts Pit excavations was the discovery of a very large and unparalleled stone working industry. Approximately 8.5kg of organic-rich black stone, mostly comprising armlet roughouts at various stages of manufacture, but also including broken examples of finished armlets and working debitage in the form of numerous very small mudstone chips, were recovered. Although the raw material has previously been referred to as shale subsequent analysis has demonstrated it to be a dark brown, unfossiliferous, ferruginous, laminated silty mudstone. Although the precise geological provenance is unknown, the most likely sources are the local Gault exposures (Ixer, pers. comm.), the closest deposits of which are only 500m to the south-west, or the Lower Greensand deposits (Steele, pers. comm.), 1.5km to the south-west. In terms of quality the raw material is far inferior to Kimmeridge shale, and it may be that its friability explains the large quantity of waste and reject material.
The manufacturing process seems to have been given over entirely to the creation of armlets (Fig. 2). With only a single exception (a very small tubular bead) all
ERICA GITTINS
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Fig. 2 Examples of the mudstone armlets discovered at Margetts Pit.
finished objects were of this type, as was the entirety of the part-finished component which could be identified with any certainty. In every instance, the technology appears to involve hand-working: there are no lathe cores or any other evidence for lathe turning, supporting the dating suggested by the associated ceramics to the Late Bronze Age to Early Iron Age period.
The range of the material recovered includes all stages of working from crudely shaped block to finished or near-finished object. There is no evidence for finished objects having been polished, although this stage may have been completed at another site or sites, with objects traded in an unpolished state.
While small quantities of mudstone were recovered along with domestic waste from a range of features across the site, the bulk of the assemblage was concentrated in two main areas: in spreads of material associated with groups of intercutting pits within a Bronze Age field system on the west of the site; and within a possible negative lynchet approximately 80m to the north-east. In both areas, small features in the immediate vicinity also contained mudstone.
A widely spaced rectilinear field system was laid out, probably in the Late Bronze Age, aligned nnw-sse. Potentially associated but undated features were found including pits, postholes, animal burials, and several possible small structures. Two of the ditches on the west lay parallel approximately 3.5m apart, possibly defining a length of trackway.
Numerous Late Bronze Age pits were recorded, occurring as intercutting groups, in clusters, in broad spreads and as single isolated features. Three of the groups of intercutting pits (3054, 3055 and 3056) had direct stratigraphic relationships with the field system, with some of the pits in each group cutting the infilled ditches.
The pits in groups 3055 (seven pits) and 3056 (at least 12 pits) were relatively small and shallow, typically 1m wide and up to 0.5m deep, with relatively small assemblages of pottery, worked and burnt flint and animal bone, probably representing domestic waste. Among these, pit 2266 contained a lead alloy miniature wheel ornament.
MARGETTS PIT: MANUFACTURE OF LATE BRONZE AGE/EARLY IRON AGE ARTEFACTS
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Fig. 3 Lead alloy miniature wheel ornament discovered at Margetts Pit.
The wheel ornament (Fig. 3) is rare in Britain. One complete and one fragmentary example are known from Flag Fen (Northover and Gillis 1999; Rohl and Northover 2001; Coombs 2001), together with a similar object with no central hole and ‘teeth’ around the circumference. Another has been found at High Throston, near Hartlepool, Teesside. The principal distribution of comparable objects is in Switzerland and north Italy (Primas 1984; 1985). While the Margetts Pit wheel ornament shares the four spokes and central annulus of these other examples, and the chevron ornament is also paralleled on some of them, it is unique in having a double outer ring. All examples which have been subject to analysis are of tin or a tin-lead alloy. The Margetts Pit example is made of lead, adding to its already distinctive character.
The intercutting pits in group 3055 were similar in size to the earliest pits in groups 3053 and 3054. In contrast, the latest pits in groups 3053 and 3054 were significantly larger, up to 3m wide and 0.7m deep in group 3053, and 4m wide and 0.6m deep in group 3054. It was the upper fills of these pits that contained substantial deposits of stone-working waste. This indicates that the stone-working deposits are relatively late in the sequence of deposition within the Late Bronze Age pits.
Large quantities of struck flint were recovered from these same layers, mixed with the stone-working waste and pottery. A total of 4078 pieces was retrieved
ERICA GITTINS
from samples from pit group 3054. Except for a single scraper and six pieces with short areas of retouch, all were debitage or cores. Samples from pit group 3053 immediately to the north contained 4994 pieces, only one of which was a retouched tool – in this instance an awl.
In both pit groups the material falls into two categories: assemblages which seem to have been concerned only with the reduction of nodules into smaller pieces, and other more deliberate knapping concerned with the production of flakes. Both types occur together in the same contexts and are unequivocally connected with the mudstone-working debris.
The most notable aspect of the lithics is the almost total lack of formal tools (less than 0.1%). This is perhaps explicable if the purpose of the reduction was not the creation of suitable tool-making blanks, but rather simply of sharp edges which could be used either unaltered or with minimal retouching. The occurrence of over 2,700 chips and pieces of micro-debitage indicate that retouching was occurring, and the few tools are merely thick irregular pieces with short areas of abrupt retouch along one portion of a longer concave edge. These may have served a purpose akin to scrapers and were undoubtedly used in the production of mudstone objects.
There was a very dispersed spread of pits and post-holes to the east of Trackway 1 (see below). These all contained dark charcoal-rich fills with finds typical of domestic waste disposal. A particularly rich pit (422) was 1.9m in diameter and 0.4m deep (the largest pit in this area). It contained a primary fill followed by three separate episodes of dumping which, in addition to domestic refuse, contained mudstone-working waste, copper pins and a bone object. One complete annular amber bead was also found in the pit, along with further fragments. The bead has a diameter of 10mm with a large (4mm) slightly off-centre perforation and has a thickness of 5mm; it falls into Beck and Shennan’s group 2 annular beads (1991, 52-53, fig. 4.1). A fragment of a second very small bead came from Late Bronze Age ditch 2402; it is straight sided with a central circular perforation, but unfortunately not enough survives to estimate its diameter.
Eighteen other late prehistoric contexts (possible cremation graves, pits, a ditch, a post-hole and layers) also contained amber fragments, some of which may also have originally been beads, as well as apparently unworked pieces of amber. These contexts are widely spread over the site with no apparent clustering. These remains may represent raw materials collected for bead production although no worked surfaces were identified on any of the fragments.
An isolated pit slightly north of the centre of the site (1685) contained a group of 22 small fragments of fired clay which appeared to derive from some object with smooth, curved surfaces; the fragments have a slightly powdery feel, and may represent mould fragments, from the casting of copper alloy objects. The pit is otherwise undated but may belong to the Late Bronze Age or Early Iron Age.
There are other suggestions of metalworking at Margetts Pit in the Late Bronze Age or Early Iron Age. A piece of copper alloy casting spillage and a piece of dross, collected from the surface of pit 3050 in the western part of the site, close to the large spreads of mudstone working waste, and possibly also a small awl, may be further elements indicating this activity. A thick plate fragment with an unpronounced ridge along its middle and bevelled edges on the long sides may be
MARGETTS PIT: MANUFACTURE OF LATE BRONZE AGE/EARLY IRON AGE ARTEFACTS
a wall fragment from a socketed axe, perhaps to be used as metal for remelting. A 3mm-thick sub-rectangular plate fragment, possibly also an axe fragment, was recovered from the heavily disturbed secondary fill of pit 1971 which also contained a partial lamb skeleton and Late Bronze Age pottery. Another 4.6mm- thick plate fragment comes from a fill of mudstone-working spread 3045. It is too small to be morphologically diagnostic but may support the general character of the activity in this part of the site.
Five pieces of lead waste and one spiral were found within and above a Late Bronze Age vessel placed in pit 403. The lead spiral is particularly interesting as it may be best interpreted as a spiral bead imitating a faience one. The presence of lead waste in pits 403 and 422 also attest to the working of lead on site. Lead objects in the later British Bronze Age are as scarce as those of tin (Needham and Hook 1988). Their contexts and associations place them in the Ewart Park period, although some could possibly date to the preceding Wilburton period given the abundant use of the metal for alloying at that time. This is also broadly the time to which the tin wheel ornaments can be assigned.
Five copper alloy objects can be assigned a Late Bronze Age date. These include four pins and one cast plate fragment. Additionally, a further six copper alloy objects can be assigned a Late Bronze Age or more broadly prehistoric date based on context association.
Three pins came from refuse pit 422, located slightly north of the centre of the site, while a fourth was found approximately 22m to the north-east in posthole 901. A shank fragment with a slightly bent tip from the lower secondary fill of ditch 2395 may have been reused as an awl.
Six partially complete Late Bronze Age or Late Bronze Age/Early Iron Age pots appeared to have been deliberately placed in the ground. The purpose of this deposition, whether for some primarily ritual or practical (such as storage) function, is unclear, although the former is more likely.
Seven possible Associated Bone Groups (ABGs) were identified, all but one of which consist of the disarticulated partial remains of sheep/goat. Four are Late Bronze Age: three of these are from pits (1971, 2023 and 2183, the latter part of pit group 3055) and one is from layer 1366. Two date to the Early Iron Age and come from pits 1388 and 1854. One (pit 416) is dated to the Late Bronze Age/Early Iron Age.
Despite the large numbers of post-holes recorded on the site, few clearly defined structures typical of late prehistoric settlements, such as roundhouses or four-post ‘granaries’, could be identified. While it is possible to create several potential structures from apparent arcs of post-holes, or square or rectangular settings of four or more post-holes, particularly where the post-holes occurred in large concentrations, in very few cases were these arrangements unambiguous.
Late Iron Age and early Romano-British
Very little evidence was recovered of Middle Iron Age activity, limited to 10 sherds of pottery redeposited in features of Late Iron Age to Romano-British date. This absence of settlement is typical of most of the sites with Late Bronze Age and Early Iron Age settlement evidence in the area during the Middle Iron Age.
ERICA GITTINS
Champion suggests that the emergence of settlements in the Middle Iron Age in different locations represents a ‘wider attempt to recolonize a landscape little used in previous centuries’ (in Booth et al. 2011, 213).
Evidence for the resettlement of the site dates to the Late Iron Age when a sub- rectangular ditched enclosure was constructed which remained the focus for activity into the early Romano-British period. The Romano-British pottery indicates that the site was probably abandoned in the second half of the 1st century ad. Only the southern end of the enclosure, including an entrance, lay within the limit of excavation in the access road part of the site, although the layout of the whole enclosure is known from geophysical survey. A number of other ditches closely associated with the enclosure suggest possible alterations to its layout and use during this period. A series of pits and post-holes also date to this general period, many of them clustered in the area south of the enclosure, including a Late Iron Age four-post structure. A single early Romano-British feature (435) was recorded in the western part of the site.
Anglo-Saxon
A linear spread of material, possibly derived from a midden, lay towards the centre of the site. It contained a substantial quantity of Late Bronze Age/Early Iron Age pottery (68 sherds, 904g) and a mudstone roughout, but also small quantities of Late Iron Age and Romano-British pottery (six sherds, 77g), along with a small fragment from a translucent blue globular Romano-British glass bead, fragments of ceramic building material, three fragments of an iron knife and a fragment from a bun-shaped fired clay loom weight of Middle/Late Saxon date. The mixed-date nature of this deposit suggests it is middened material, redeposited either by natural processes or perhaps by cultivation, and largely of Saxon date.
Terraces, lynchets and trackways
A series of shallow terraces ran from nnw-sse, tangentially to the main trend of the slope, possibly comprising negative lynchets resulting from cultivation within unditched fields. Their orientation matches that of the ditches of the Bronze Age field system and Late Iron Age/early Romano-British enclosure, although this is doubtless due to the topography of the site and contemporaneity cannot be assumed; several possible hedge-lines were also identified. Two shallow linear depressions on the same alignment may have been trackways. Trackway 1, in the centre of the main excavation area, was traced for 58m; Trackway 2 lay 50m to the north-east, adjacent to the enclosure. Shallow striations in the bases of the possible trackways appear to have been formed by the passage of wheeled vehicles, suggesting that the trackways at least are of a relatively late date.
Discussion
Margetts Pit is a site of some importance, with structural, artefactual and mortuary evidence suggesting continuous use from the Middle-Late Bronze Age to the Early Iron Age (1300-600/500 bc). A hiatus in occupation seems to have occurred during the Early and Middle Iron Ages, with occupation re-established towards the end
MARGETTS PIT: MANUFACTURE OF LATE BRONZE AGE/EARLY IRON AGE ARTEFACTS
of the Middle Iron Age continuing, at least intermittently, until the Middle Saxon period.
The most important result of the excavations at Margetts Pit was the discovery of waste material deriving from the manufacture of mudstone artefacts, mostly armlets. The quantity of waste material recovered leaves no doubt that this activity was being carried out at an industrial scale in the near-vicinity and that most of the waste was dumped in large quantities in a few events, rather than accumulating gradually.
Other industrial activities are attested on the site. From the finds of metal waste and tools it is apparent that metalworking formed part of the activity on site in the Late Bronze Age (Webley et al. 2020), although the limited quantity of related material suggests that it may have been of subordinate importance to the working of mudstone. It is tempting to see a link between this craft activity and the many undated lead weights found at Margetts Pit, but while the use of balances and weights in the Late Bronze Age is well documented (e.g., at Cliffs End Farm: McKinley et al. 2014, 179 fig. 6.15, 1 and 3; cf. Pare 1999; Rahmstorf and Pare 2007), the lack of closed context associations precludes any firm conclusions from being drawn.
Taken together, these strands of evidence may suggest that Margetts Pit functioned as a kind of entrepôt and that the deposition of votive materials and everyday objects may perhaps have been connected with the propagation of trade; especially being located so close to the North Downs prehistoric trackway.
acknowledgements
The author would like to recognise the important contributions of the following people, who’s work contributed to this summary note: Ian Armit, Madeleine Bleasedale, Philippa Bradley, Dana Challinor, Nicholas Cooke, Claire-Elise Fischer, Jane Evans,
L. Higbee, David Holman, Matt Leivers, Jacqueline I. McKinley, Barbara McNee, Lorraine Mepham, Peter Northover, Andrew B. Powell, Jörn Schuster, Rachael Seager Smith and Chris Stevens.
bibliography
Beck, C. and Shennan, S., 1991, Amber in Prehistoric Britain, Oxbow Monograph 8.
Champion, T., 2011, ‘Later Prehistory’, in Booth et al., 2011, On Track: the archaeology of High Speed 1, section 1, in Kent, Oxford Wessex Archaeology Monograph 4, 151-241. Coles, J. M., Heal, S.V.E. and Orme, B., 1978, ‘The use and character of wood in Prehistoric
Britain and Ireland’, Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society, 44, 1-45.
Coombs, D.G., 2001, ‘Metalwork’, in Pryor, F. (ed.), The Flag Fen Basin: archaeology and environment of a Fenland landscape, Swindon, English Heritage archaeological reports, 255-98.
Gale, R. and Cutler, D, 2000, Plants in Archaeology; Identification Manual of Vegetative Plant Materials used in Europe and the Southern Mediterranean to c.1500, Westbury & Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew.
McKinley, J.I., Leivers, M., Schuster, J., Marshall, P., Barclay, A.J. and Stoodley, N., 2014, Cliffs End Farm, Isle of Thanet, Kent. A mortuary and ritual site of the Bronze Age, Iron Age and Anglo-Saxon Period with evidence for long-distance maritime mobility, Salisbury, Wessex Archaeology Report 31.
ERICA GITTINS
Needham, S. and Hook, D.R., 1988, ‘Lead and lead alloys in the Bronze Age – recent finds from Runnymede Bridge, 259-74’, in Slater, E.A. and J.O. Tate (eds), Science and archaeology Glasgow 1987: proceedings of a conference on the application of scientific techniques to archaeology Glasgow, September 1987, Oxford, BAR, Brit. Ser. 196.
Northover, J.P. and Gillis, C., 1999, ‘Questions in the analysis of ancient tin, in S.M.M. Young, A.M. Pollard, P. Budd and R.A. Ixer’, Metals in Antiquity, 78-85. Oxford, BAR, Int. Ser. 792.
Pare, C.F.E., 1999, ‘Weights and weighing in Bronze Age Central Europe’, in Römisch- GermanischesZentralmuseumMainz (ed.), Eliten in der Bronzezeit: Ergebnisse zweier Kolloquien in Mainz und Athen, Teil 2, Mainz, Monographien des RGZM 43, 421-514.
Primas, M., 1984, ‘Bronzezeitliche Schmuck aus Zinn’, Helvetia Archaeologia, 15, no.
57/60, 33-42.
Primas, M., 1985, ‘Tin objects in Bronze Age Europe’, Studi di Paletnologia in onore di Salvatore M. Puglisi, Roma: Universita di Roma ‘La Sapienza’, 554-62.
Rahmstorf, L. and Pare, C., 2007, Zu Gewichtsteinen der Späthallstatt- und Latènezeit,
Jahrbuch des Römisch-Germanischen Zentralmuseums 54, 265-95.
Rohl, B.M. and Northover, J.P., 2001, ‘The analysis of the metalwork’, in F. Pryor, The Flag Fen Basin: archaeology and environment of a Fenland landscape, 298-308. Swindon: English Heritage.
Webley, L., Adams, S. and Brück, J., 2020, The social context of technology: non-ferrous metalworking in later prehistoric Britain and Ireland, Oxford, Oxbow.
Willmes, M., Bataille, C.P., James, H.F., Moffat, I., McMorrow, L., Kinsley, L., Armstrong, R.A., Eggins, S., and Grün, R., 2018, ‘Mapping of bioavailable strontium isotope ratios in France for archaeological provenance studies’, Applied Geochemistry: Journal of the International Association of Geochemistry and Cosmochemistry, 90, 75-86.
RESEARCHES AND DISCOVERIES
BRONZE AGE RIVER AND PASTORAL LIFE ON THE FORESHORE AT SWALECLIFFE
This preliminary report summarises the results of fieldwork carried out 2017-2019 on the foreshore at Swalecliffe, situated on the much-eroded north coast of Kent. The studies formed part of a Masters dissertation in Environmental Archaeology at Reading University, and focussed on using animal bones, molluscs and other biota preserved in alluvium to determine the terrestrial environment of the foreshore before its inundation by rising sea levels.
The area investigated lies near the mouth of the Swalecliffe Brook. The archaeology of the surrounding foreshore and hinterland has been the subject of a number of previous publications. Worsfold (1926) reported the finding of Acheulean hand- axes and evidence of Mesolithic flint-working, as well as the discovery on the beach of a Bronze Age cinerary urn and a nearby Bronze Age hoard. Almost fifty years later a Bronze Age Beaker dated to c.1800 bc was found near the mouth of the Swalecliffe Brook (Reedie, 1976; Tatton-Brown 1977). Subsequently, a scatter of wells dated to c.1210-700 bc was discovered at the Swalecliffe Wastewater Treatment Works, located a hundred metres behind the promenade (Masefield et al., 2003, 2004). The locations of principal finds are shown in Fig. 1.
A brief investigation of Swalecliffe’s foreshore archaeology by Macpherson- Grant (1992) reported the bed of a former ‘stream or creek which had received domestic rubbish from prehistoric occupation along its banks’, and broadly datable from a decorated flint-tempered potsherd to the Late Bronze to Early Iron Age. It was shown that the stream-bed was likely to be a prehistoric northward continuation of the Swalecliffe Brook.
Isolated areas of soft grey alluvium, similar to those seen by Macpherson-Grant, are still sometimes exposed on the foreshore over a distance of approximately 250m, measured northwards from the present-day mouth of the Brook. The alluvium contrasts clearly with harder light-brown ‘brickearths’, gravels and clay that comprise the majority of the foreshore under the shingle. In places the grey alluvium contains brushwood and peat-like organic remains, just as described by Macpherson-Grant. Vertical roundwood posts and strands of wattle have also been found preserved in these sediments.
During fieldwork in 2018 a twisted yew withy-tie was found embedded in soft grey silt 227m north of the high tide line and at approximately 1.1m below od. Fig. 2 shows the withy and the ‘heel’ where it was removed from the parent tree. A carbon date of 1742 cal bc-1559 cal bc (UBA 40352) was obtained, and provides an indicative date for the deposition of grey alluvium in this area of the foreshore.
RESEARCHES AND DISCOVERIES
image
Fig. 1 Outline plan of coastline and foreshore at Swalecliffe showing locations of carbon-dated specimens, C – wooden artefact with cleat; P – post; W – withy-tie.
Approximately 24m north of the withy-tie, investigation of samples from an apparently contiguous area of silty sediment revealed the remains of eight identifiable mollusc shells. Two of these were from Bithynia tentacuata, whose typical habitat is slow-moving well-oxygenated water in lowland rivers and lakes. Three others were freshwater bivalves, the remainder being wetland and terrestrial molluscs that could perhaps have been redeposited there by floodwater. The alluvium here fills a shallow depression or channel in the surrounding ‘brickearth’.
image
RESEARCHES AND DISCOVERIES
Fig. 2 Bronze Age yew withy-tie found embedded in alluvium near the low-tide line at Swalecliffe. The scale is in centimetres.
Further work is required to clarify whether this represents a former course of the Swalecliffe Brook, or a flood channel, or simply flood deposits adjacent to the river. Research for the dissertation included analysis of 93 animal bones found from 2016 onwards embedded in the soft grey alluvium within 25m north and east of the withy-tie. The bones in this assemblage were shown to come from a minimum of three pigs, two goats, one cow, one dog and one red deer. Many of the bones showed signs of butchery, although not in the case of the dog bones or red deer antler fragment. It appears that the bones (and associated scatters of burnt flints) may constitute domestic refuse discarded into the alluvium from adjacent areas of
firm ground (e.g. possible river bank).
The combined evidence from animal bones, molluscs and carbon-dating suggests that, at least as far as 250m north from the present day high-tide line, the area that is now foreshore was, in the later Early Bronze Age, habitable land where pastoral farmers lived with pigs, goats and cows in the vicinity of the Swalecliffe Brook.
The dissertation work included a review of a fragment of hand-carved woodwork discovered in 2016 embedded vertically in grey alluvium, approximately 200m north of the high-tide line and north of the area examined by Macpherson-Grant. Its dimensions are approximately 120 x 176mm and the thickness is 9-12 mm. As can be seen from Fig. 3, it features a cleat comparable with those used on Bronze Age sewn-plank boats, such as those found at Dover, Ferriby, Kilnsea and Caldicot (Clark, 2004). It is difficult, however, to envisage exactly how this artefact would be used on a boat. It is noteworthy that it has been carefully thinned, presumably for lightness, whilst retaining a thick edge, presumably for strength. It should also be noted that prehistoric cleat-like lugs are not restricted to boats, as shown by wooden containers buried in bogs in Ireland and at Glastonbury lake village (Damian Goodburn pers. comm., Smyth et al. 2019). Nevertheless, noting that this artefact was found near the sea, in alluvium close to a river, this is one of the most likely places to find the remains of a boat.
Carbon dating a sample of the wood yielded the result 2194 cal bc-1982 cal bc (UBA 40353), somewhat earlier than the carbon dates from the Dover boat timbers, and essentially earlier than any other known date of a sewn-plank boat (Bell 2020, van de Noort 2011). Nevertheless, the spread of possible dates (statistical
RESEARCHES AND DISCOVERIES
image
image image
Fig. 3 Bronze Age wooden cleat found embedded in alluvium on the foreshore at Swalecliffe. Scale in centimetres.
RESEARCHES AND DISCOVERIES
uncertainty) of the Swalecliffe specimen partially overlaps with the uncertainty of the carbon dating of the boat known as Ferriby 3. The above dates suggest that if the artefact was part of a sewn-plank boat, it could be the oldest one yet discovered. It needs to be borne in mind, of course, that the Swalecliffe cleat could have been carved significantly more recently than the carbon date of the wood.
A third carbon-dated sample was taken from a vertical roundwood oak post set in soft grey silt c.90m north of the high-tide line. This formed part of a cluster of roundwood posts of various diameters (approximately 1-8cm), interpreted as a possible fish trap, located in an area where Iron Age potsherds had been found embedded in the alluvium. However, carbon dating the post yielded the result ad 894-1015 (UBA 40354). To the writer’s knowledge, this provides the only evidence for human activity at this site at the end of the first millenium ad. This area of foreshore subsequently became covered by a thick layer of shingle before further investigations could be concluded.
A full report is being prepared to provide greater detail of the findings described above, together with significant additional aspects of the archaeology of the Swalecliffe foreshore.
acknowledgement
The writer would like to express heartfelt thanks to all those who made this report possible, firstly to Kent Archaeological Society for funding three of the carbon dates obtained for this project, and also to the following who have shared their extensive knowledge and skills, and in various other ways helped to achieve a successful outcome: Professor Martin Bell, Dr Tom Walker and Dr Chris Speed of the University of Reading, Dr Marion Allison, Dr Gill Campbell, Dr Ruth Pelling, the late Nigel MacPherson-Grant, Keith Parfitt, Dr Damian Goodburn, Martin Rayner, Bernd-Klaus Ebeck, Nick Easton, Chris Riddell – and others who have provided advice, useful information and field assistance.
peter slaughter
bibliography
Bell, M., 2020, Making one’s way in the world, Oxford, Oxbow books. Clark, P. (ed.), 2004, The Dover Bronze Age Boat, English Heritage.
Kerney, M.P., 1999, Atlas of Land and Freshwater Molluscs of Britain and Ireland, Great Horkesley, Harley Books.
Macpherson-Grant, N., 1992, ‘Long Rock, Swalecliffe’, in Canterbury’s Archaeology 1991-1992, pp. 38-39, Canterbury Archaeological Trust. Accessed on-line 18th May 2019 at: https://issuu.com/alfalfa2/docs/canterburys_archaeology_1991_1992
Masefield, R., Branch N., Couldrey, P., Goodburn, D. and Tyers, I., 2003, ‘A later Bronze Age well complex at Swalecliffe, Kent’, Antiquaries Journal, 83, pp. 47- 121.
Masefield, R., Bayliss, A. and McCormack, G., 2004, ‘New scientific dating of the later Bronze Age wells at Swalecliffe, Kent’, Antiquaries Journal, 84, pp. 334-339.
Reedie, K.G.H., 1976, ‘Beaker’, Archaeologia Cantiana, 92, 235.
Smyth, J., Berstan, R., Casanova, E. et al., ‘Four millennia of dairy surplus and deposition revealed through compound-specific stable isotope analysis and radiocarbon dating of Irish bog butters’, Sci Rep 9, 4559 (2019). https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-019-40975-y.
RESEARCHES AND DISCOVERIES
Tatton-Brown, T., 1977, ‘Beaker from Swalecliffe’, Archaeologia Cantiana, 93, 212.
Van de Noort, R., 2011, North Sea Archaeologies: a Maritime Biography 10,000 BC -AD 1500, OUP.
Worsfold, F. H., 1926, ‘Observations on the provenance of the Thames Valley Pick, Swalecliffe, Kent’, Proc. Prehist. Soc. East Anglia, Vol 5 (for 1926), pp. 224-231.
EXTENDED CONTINUITY OF LATE IRON AGE LANDSCAPE FEATURES REVEALED IN ARCHAEOLOGICAL INVESTIGATIONS AT MOAT ROAD, HEADCORN
The site at Moat Road, Headcorn, is situated on the south-eastern outskirts of the village and occupied a narrow strip of land immediately north of the water treatment works (centred on NGR 583062 144253; Fig. 1). The site was located at around 20.00m aod and was in use as pasture at the time the work took place. The underlying geology was recorded as Weald Clay Formation-Mudstone and this was encountered at approximately 19.60m aod. The geological horizon was overlain by around 0.50m of subsoil and topsoil containing a high concentration of artefacts. None of the recorded features were visible in the subsoil. The site was well-watered with the River Beult flowing to the south and a small tributary of the Beult running northwards a little way to the west.
Evidence of a probable farmstead dating from the Iron Age to Early Roman period was discovered by fieldwork undertaken by the Kent Archaeological Society between 1993-95 at Little New House Farm on New House Lane, approximately 775m south of the site. Evidence for iron smelting and a small cemetery with three Roman cremations in pottery vessels was recovered, as well as several ditches and part of a roundhouse dated to the Iron Age (Aldridge 2010).
The Moat Road site (Fig. 1) was located adjacent to the boundary of a Grade II* Listed Building – Headcorn Manor (constructed c.1516), which is located c.50m west of the St Peter and St Paul’s Church. The Moat (Grade II Listed) (TQ 84 SW 5) lay immediately north of the site (north side of Moat Road) and comprises an early/mid 16th-century former farmhouse with later additions and alterations.
Results
Many of the recorded features were able to be dated using recovered artefacts, some of those that did not produce dating evidence were phased stratigraphically or by association. A ‘background scatter’ of residual Mesolithic or early Neolithic finds were recovered from overburden deposits and suggest that occupation of the hillside, albeit transient, occurred across these distant periods.
Period 1: Mid/Late Iron Age
During the Mid/Late Iron Age there was evidence for land division in the form of a boundary ditch in the south of the site (D1) (Fig. 1). This ditch ran from north- east to south-west and had been heavily truncated by later features. An open area to the north of this ditch OA1 contained a single pit or large posthole. To the north of this a curving gully had been excavated (D2) into which three postholes had
RESEARCHES AND DISCOVERIES
image
Fig. 1 Site location and Period 1 plan of excavated features.
RESEARCHES AND DISCOVERIES
been excavated forming a fence or stockade possibly for livestock or as a small working area (S1). It is not clear if these postholes were integral to the initial construction or had been added as later repairs. Environmental evidence from the postholes showed the presence of wheat, barley and oats as well as a fragment of hazelnut shell. An open area to the north of the stockade (OA2) contained three pits or large postholes. Recovered pottery consisted of predominantly handmade jars. Much of the recovered animal bone appears to have been subjected to very high temperatures probably as the result of being incinerated on a bonfire. The recovered charcoal was predominantly of oak. The site appears to have been peripheral to any settlement in the Middle to Late Iron Age although the presence of domestic waste and fuel residue in the features suggests that settlement may have been located nearby.
Period 2: Late Iron Age/Romano-British (Fig. 2)
Period 2.1
By the Late Iron Age/Early Roman period the stockade had gone out of use and was possibly deliberately dismantled. Two parallel ditches running north-east to south-west possibly formed a routeway, R1. The intervening space contained a single posthole, as did the area to the south (OA3). A single small dich or gully was noted to the west of the main excavation during the evaluation phase on a north-east to south-west course. This feature did not appear to continue into the main excavation area. Environmental samples from these features again revealed oak being used as a fuel source. Activity in this period still appeared to be at a low level, although the presence of an apparent routeway hints that a focus of activity may lay nearby.
Period 2.2
Three parallel ditches were then excavated after R1 had gone out of use. and appeared to form a second routeway (R2) this time heading from north-west to south-east. The area that they enclosed contained a pit and a posthole. A third ditch on this alignment was dug to the south (D3) and the open area it enclosed OA 4 contained two pits or postholes. A fourth, much larger, ditch was also dug at this time in the north of the site (D4) but on a contrary north-east to south-west alignment with an open area OA 5 between it and the routeway.
Period 2.3
The final phase of Period 2 activity witnessed a large terminating ditch (D5) dug in the south of the site into earlier feature D3 which had presumably silted up and gone out of use. A smaller ditch D101 had been dug to the north on the same alignment as the earlier routeway (R2). The open area between (OA 6) contained a small number of pits and postholes as well as a small terminating ditch. The large ditch in the north (D4) was recut showing a continuation of use into this later period. The open area between the recut boundary ditch and the smaller ditch D101 (OA5) was empty of features from this period. The pottery assemblage was again characterised by handmade jars that appear to have been locally made (Fig. 3). Oak charcoal continued to be prevalent, with apple/pear, hawthorn and rowan
RESEARCHES AND DISCOVERIES
image
Fig. 2 Plans of Period 2 and 3 excavated features.
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image
Fig. 3 Late Iron Age/early Roman handmade jar from ditch D7.
also in evidence. Animal bone once more showed signs of having been subjected to very high temperatures.
Period 3: Late medieval/Early post-medieval
Period 2.3 was followed by an extended hiatus of noticeable activity at the site. Though medieval artefacts were recovered from overburden deposits, the next set of datable features consisted of two ditches of late medieval/early post-medieval date. The southernmost ditch (D6) was continually recut and also straightened before going out of use and silting up. It is of note that these late medieval/early post-medieval ditches occupy the same space as a much earlier features suggesting either a long-lived boundary or that the location is somehow naturally suited to drainage. This large southern ditch may relate in some way to the nearby post- medieval house and moat with which it was contemporary. The northern ditch D7, being small and shallow in comparison, most likely represents a short-lived field boundary. The area between the two ditches OA8 was devoid of any internal features relating to this period.
Discussion
The earliest recorded activity at Moat Road dated to the Middle/Late Iron Age with the greatest number of features being Late Iron Age/Early Roman in date. The rural landscape over these periods is thought to consist of dispersed farmsteads linked by fields, with an intensification of activity occurring over time (Smith et al. 2016, 83). The number of Middle/Late Iron Age features noted at Moat Road is relatively small, although a structure S1 was recorded; some domestic refuse was
RESEARCHES AND DISCOVERIES
present perhaps suggesting that settlement was located nearby and also hinting that the structure was deliberately dismantled and back-filled. Activity increased in the later Iron Age with the construction of a trackway heading from north- east to south-west. The historic field boundaries in the region of Headcorn follow the same alignment and appear orientated on the road network in the north and the river in the south. Perhaps these factors have influenced land division for an extended period of time?
There was then a dramatic shift of focus with a routeway and other ditches being constructed but on a contrary north-west to south-east alignment. Quite what the reason was for this shift in focus is unclear. There may be a political stimulus, or this change may be in response to environmental factors. The large ditch dug in the north of the site D4 appeared to be long lived and retains the earlier north-east to south-west orientation. It may be that this formed part of a political or settlement boundary.
Resource management evidence from Periods 1 and 2 show continuation of practices across the Mid to Late Iron Age. Pottery was being made locally, cereal crops appear to have been cultivated and utilised and domestic refuse was being burnt on bonfires. This last process has probably allowed the better survival of faunal remains in the wet clay soils of the area, although the great majority were unidentifiable to species. Oak appears to have been used as a fuel source suggesting the species was sufficiently common to be used as firewood.
The closest analogous site of this date is at New House Farm c.750m to the south of Moat Road. The limited excavations there uncovered a roundhouse of Iron Age date with an associated occupation layer. A small fragment of a Late Iron Age ditch was uncovered on the same alignment as routeway R1 dated to Period 2.1 at Moat Road. Later Roman cremation burials, evidence of iron working and Roman military artefacts were also recovered, none of which were encountered at Moat Road.
Following the Early Roman period, no evidence of activity other than unstratified artefacts of a medieval date were recovered until the late medieval/early post- medieval period. The contemporary remains almost certainly relate to the adjacent Headcorn Manor and cartographic evidence suggests that the small nearby tributary of the River Beult once fed the moat at Moat Manor to the north of the site. It is possible that the large ditch noted in the south of the excavation area (D6) once did the same for Headcorn Manor. This feature appears to be very long lived, having been recut on more than one occasion. Clay tobacco pipe fragments dating to the 18th century were recovered from the fill showing that the feature was still in use at that time, but it does not appear on 19th-century Ordnance Survey maps. Early post-medieval brick was also recovered from the ditch possibly deposited during a phase of demolition or remodelling at Headcorn Manor. The smaller ditch to the north hints that the area to the west of the manor house was once divided into smaller plots.
Conclusion
The most striking thing about the evidence from Moat Road is the extended continuity of orientation and location of landscape features following a Late Iron
RESEARCHES AND DISCOVERIES
Age reorganisation. Quite what the driving force behind the reorganisation was is unclear, but the whole system of ditches shifts on its axis from heading north- east to heading north-west. Once the Late Iron Age orientation was established it remained into the post-medieval period, a trend noticed elsewhere within the Weald (see Margetts 2018a; 2018b). The environmental evidence provides a valuable insight into resource management and waste treatment in this period. Added together with the evidence from New House Farm to the south, a more complete picture of the Iron Age rural landscape and economy and settlement of the Headcorn and wider Wealden region is emerging. The later, post-medieval evidence from the site at Moat Road suggests that there may have been a cutting from the tributary of the Beult just to the west feeding a moat and that the land to the west of the house was once subdivided.
chris russel
references
Aldridge, N., 2010, ‘Investigations at a Prehistoric, Romano-British and Early Medieval Site at Little New House Farm, Headcorn’, Archaeologia Cantiana, 130, 173-190.
Margetts, A., 2018a, Wealdbǣra: Excavations at Wickhurst Green, Broadbridge Heath and
the Landscape of the West Central Weald, Spoilheap Monograph series 18.
Margetts, A., 2018b, ‘A World of Summer and Autumn: The Romano-British to Early Medieval Weald and Signs of Continuity’, Archaeology International, X (X), 89-94.
Smith, A., Martyn, A., Brindle, T. and Fulford, M., 2016, The Rural Setllement of Roman Britain. Britannia Monograph Series, Vol. 29, The Society for the Promotion of Roman Studies, London.
FIELDWORK IN KENT UNDERTAKEN BY MOLA 2019-20: SUMMARY REPORTS
Lewisham, Forest Hill: Our Lady and St Philip Neri Primary School
(TQ 35881 172255)
A Historic England Level 2 building survey was undertaken at the former Our Lady and St Philip Neri School building in Forest Hill. The former school building was a red brick two to three storey building with an earlier Victorian structure incorporated at the north end which had a pitched roof with gablets. The main school building was a c.1950s flat-roofed structure with large cold rolled steel windows. This building replaced a later 19th-century house which had been in use as a convent during the early part of the 20th century and was destroyed during WW2 bombing. The earlier house was built for the Architect Alexander Hennell who was responsible for much of the 19th-century development of the area surrounding Mayow Road. The 20th-century interior building plan was a simple, utilitarian design of classrooms, offices and other rooms extending from a central corridor. Interior materials included terrazzo stone flooring in the main corridor and wood block floors laid in a herringbone pattern within the classrooms and offices. Access to the first-floor classrooms was via a simple but impressive imperial style staircase which rose above the main entrance in the centre. In the
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north-west section of the 1950s building there was a large assembly hall/gym with oak flooring and timber casement windows on the west elevation. The earlier structure at the north end of the building had been used as a chapel and later as an infants’ school. Due to the destruction of most of the earlier convent structure, the only evidence which remained for the building’s use as a convent was a piscina or holy water stoop recorded in the former chapel. (Brigid Geist and Luke Tremlett, standing building survey, January 2020, Savills, MYO20)
Deptford: Old Tidemill School (TQ 37330 77192)
A Level 2 survey was carried out on the main building and annexe of the former Tidemill School in advance of redevelopment of the site. The main building dated from c.1926-28 and had replaced a late Victorian school which appears on the Ordnance Survey map of 1895. A large e-w oriented steel-framed building constructed from yellow London stock bricks with red brick and tile dressings, it consisted of two storeys with a rooftop playground. The north elevation featured large arched windows while the south elevation had several large double-glazed timber doors opening directly onto the playground outside. A brick lean-to structure had been constructed in this area during the 1970s, apparently to improve the warmth of the ground-floor classrooms from which the doors opened. The annexe dated from c.1886-87 and was located to the west of the main building. Built from yellow London stock brick with rubbed red brick dressings and terracotta and stone ornamentation, it was originally a single-storey building which was extended and enlarged during the 1890s, both on the ground floor and by the construction of a new first floor above. It had large hopper-style timber-framed windows and a main entrance on the south elevation which once gave access to Stanhope Street (which no longer exists). The original 19th-century walls which marked the limit of the playground still stood along the southern boundary of the site. The survey included a salvage list of fixtures and fittings as well as building features to be retained in situ. (Brigid Geist, building recording, September 2019, Mulalley Construction, FRH19)
Beckenham: Langley Court, South Eden Park Road (TQ 37773 68057)
Following work in 2015-2016, four geotechnical test pits in the south-east of the site were monitored. These test pits were in close proximity to the 2016 watching brief observations of a possible burnt mound but in this instance no similar evidence of such deposit was observed. Modern made ground and disturbed natural sand was seen to directly overlie natural sand or gravel. (Phil Jefferies, watching brief November 2019, RSK Environment Ltd, LGY12.)
Greenwich: Morden Wharf (TQ 39221 78994)
A geoarchaeological watching brief was carried out within the Greenwich Peninsula and Foreshore area which is of high archaeological potential. The earliest deposits observed were the Pleistocene floodplain gravels, belonging to the Shepperton Gravel formation. These were overlain by Holocene deposits, which comprised Mesolithic/Late Bronze Age peats indicative of a marshland environment. The peat deposits were, in turn, overlain by thick alluvial clay deposits which formed
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in the late Iron Age and are indicative of a mudflat/saltmarsh environment. Post- medieval to modern made ground sealed the sequence, and mainly consisted of demolition rubble relating to the 19th/20th century buildings which previously occupied the site. (David Taylor, geoarchaeological watching brief, October 2019, Ramboll UK Ltd (Blackfriars) MRW19.)
Greenwich: Millennium Village (TQ 40128 78981)
As part of Phase 4, six geoarchaeological boreholes were sunk across the site, revealing a Quaternary sediment sequence. Sub-samples were taken throughout the sequence, from two boreholes, for radiocarbon dating, microfossil and plant macrofossil assessments, to assist with the overall site interpretation. The sequence comprised Pleistocene gravel deposits belonging to the Shepperton Gravel formation at the base. These were overlain by Late Pleistocene bedded sands which are typical at the margins of active river channels, with banded clays and silts indicative of occasional episodes of overbank deposition. Mid to Late Holocene organic muds and peats overlying these banded sand deposits are likely to equate to Devoy’s’ Tilbury (III) peat which has previously been dated to the Neolithic/ Bronze Age. This was overlain by Late Holocene mineral floodplain alluvium, indicative of an estuarine floodplain. A sub-sample taken from the base of these deposits dated this transition at 2280-2030 cal bc, during the late Bronze Age. The sequence was capped by modern made ground. (Phil Stastney, geoarchaeological evaluation, January 2019, Greenwich Millennium Village Ltd, GMP12.)
Bexley: Burt’s Wharf (TQ 50156 80512)
At Burt’s Wharf a geoarchaeological watching brief was carried out, during which 11 geotechnical boreholes were dug, the revealed sediments recorded, and 3 geological window samples taken from across the site. By modelling the buried stratigraphy and preliminarily reconstructing the evolving landscape of the site, three deposits or facies of varying archaeological and palaeoenvironmental potential are identified. The site is situated at the centre of the River Thames floodplain. The underlying deposits of archaeological interest consist of Pleistocene floodplain gravels. The floodplain gravels were found to be overlain by a 7.5m layer of Holocene floodplain deposits consisting of sequences of by sandy/silty clay alluvium interspersed with bands of peat. Across the site, the Holocene deposits are sealed by an average of
1.4m of made ground. Potential for artefactual recovery is considered low for the site although palaeoenvironmental potential is high. As a consequence, further analysis work such as some proxy environmental analysis of the alluvial and organic deposits (i.e. through pollen, diatom/ostracod assessment) coupled with radiocarbon dating may be required. (Graham Spurr, geoarchaeological evaluation, November 2019 – February 2020, Lidl Great Britain Ltd, BWF19.)
Gravesend: Canal Basin Floodgate (TQ 65654 74243)
A watching brief was carried out on the Grade II listed canal basin at Gravesend, Kent as part of the Thames Estuary Asset Management Programme 2100 (TEAM2100), the Environment Agency’s 10-year programme to refurbish and replace tidal
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defences in London and throughout the Thames Estuary. The canal basin, sea wall, and lock chamber, were designed by civil engineer Ralph Dodd and constructed in 1799-1801. The work consisted of the removal and replacement of the existing 20th- century floodgate but, although the original 19th-century brickwork of the canal basin still exists, the structure could not be examined due to site constraints and the fact that the entrance to the canal had been coated with a modern concrete lining. (Tony Mackinder, watching brief Apr 2019, Environment Agency, KT-CBG19.)
Cliffe Marshes, Lower Hope Point: (TQ 71753 78979)
Emergency work to the existing flood defences adjacent to the site of the Cliffe Explosives Works Scheduled Monument (Historic England Ref. 1428315) was monitored as part of the Thames Estuary Asset Management Programme 2100 (TEAM2100), the Environment Agency’s 10-year programme to refurbish and replace tidal defences in London and throughout the Thames Estuary.
The site was originally used from 1890 for manufacturing gunpowder, becoming the Curtis’s and Harvey Ltd Explosives Factory (1898-1920) manufacturing cordite. Although not directly affected by the current works the remains of two timber jetties were recorded. Documentary records show the western jetty (J1) was built 1891-92; first appearing on the 1895 OS map. Only a few truncated posts survive but there were 3 parallel timber revetments running ne-sw which were probably mud wall reinforcement pre-dating the jetty. The eastern jetty (J2) was built after 1904, first appearing on the 1907 OS map and was evidenced by 3 rows of upright, high quality timbers c.30-40m from the sea wall. One timber had carpenter/merchant marks on all 4 faces and another evidence of circular saw use. To the west was a single line of upright stakes forming a revetment. Both jetties appear to have been partially destroyed in 1940 as part of anti-invasion works. (Tony Mackinder and Paul Thrale, watching brief, August-October 2019, Environment Agency, KT-CLF19.)
Chatham: Kitchener Barracks, Dock Road (TQ 75925 68580)
An intermittent watching brief continued at Kitchener Barracks, during the main construction phase of the project. The remains recorded consisted predominantly of a series of east-west aligned brick drainage culverts of varying sizes, contemporary with the construction of the infantry barracks soon after 1757. In order to create the barracks, the ground surface across the central and west half of the site had been artificially raised by dumping large quantities of chalk-based deposits to compensate for the natural hill slope. (Ian Blair, watching brief, throughout 2019, Latis Homes, KT-KBC17.)
The intermittent watching brief continued in 2020. During heading works near the southern gate on Khartoum Road a bronze cannon was recovered at a depth of 0.5m. The 18lb cannon probably dates to the 18th century and is likely to be one of two on display outside the guard room, which originally fronting east onto Khartoum Road, near the southern entrance. This cannon can be seen in situ in a 1966 photo of the guard room (Royal Engineers Museum and Library Archives). (Ian Blair and Dave Sankey, watching brief, throughout 2020, Latis Homes, KT- KBC17.)
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Maidstone, Kent Medical Campus, Junction 7 M20, Newnham Court Way
(TQ 78165 56888)
An evaluation was carried out on the site of Junction 7 M20 as part of roadworks carried out by Kent County Council. At the southern end of the site, a small number of cut features suggested land divisions and agricultural land use dating to the post- medieval period. The features comprise an undated pit, a probable post-medieval former field boundary, and two shallow pit features dating to the post-medieval period. Natural was reached in different parts of the site and was formed of soft greyish orange sandy clay with occasional patches of gravel and flint. (Cat Gibbs, evaluation, November2019, WSP, KT-MED19.)
Hoo St Werburgh: significant prehistoric finds at Kingsnorth Quarry, Jacob’s
Lane (TQ 79372 72327)
Following on from previous archaeological work across the site, archaeological investigations at Phase D took place between August 2019 and March 2020. A large quantity of pits and post holes were recorded including a number of cremations. Sample sections were excavated through a number of large linear features and areas likely associated with quarrying were also excavated. In addition, prehistoric surfaces were uncovered including evidence of trackways being maintained with gravels. Large quantities of Bronze Age and Iron Age pottery, fire-cracked flint and evidence of salt drying were recorded across the site and the remains of a Neolithic longhouse was also recorded. A deep cut feature possibly a water supply was excavated on the site. Beneath this feature an interesting and potentially significant group of objects were uncovered. This included a bronze sickle, other bronze objects and beads made of jet/shale, faience, amber and possibly glass. Evidence of a timber structure was also recorded that may represent shoring or a revetment for the deep cut feature. (Paul Thrale, strip, map and sample excavation, August 2019-March 2020, Tarmac Trading Ltd, KT-KNQ16.)
Hollingbourne: Woodcut Farm (TQ 82029 55079)
An archaeological evaluation was carried out at the site between the 16th November and the 14th December 2020. This evaluation was preceded by a phase of pre-determination evaluation (Site Code: KT-AHB15) undertaken on the site in November/December 2015. As a result of these investigations, archaeological remains spanning from the Late Neolithic to the 19th century were identified and recorded.
The site is located across a broad valley and the evaluations have shown that Middle/Late Iron Age archaeological deposits survive in the north-western corner of the site, reflecting the significance of the higher ground and its attractiveness for early occupation. Several Late Neolithic, Middle/Late Iron Age and medieval features, such as ditches, pits and posthole, were excavated further down the slope, but their dating and spatial deposition indicated some reworking of these features with artefacts brought down into these contexts by hillwash (colluvium). Apart from a large Roman pond, the low-lying valley appears to have not been so favoured for early archaeological settlement activity. The pond may have been constructed for
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livestock to obtain drinking water during summer pastoral grazing. Archaeological activity on the higher ground to the east of the site is sparse, except for much later features associated with the 19th-20th century ‘Hollingbourne Union Workhouse’, which once stood adjacent to the site.
A geoarchaeological assessment of the sectional recording of the trenches indicates two phases of hillwash deposition on the slopes of the valley: a lower horizon formed during the later prehistoric and an upper horizon formed during the medieval period. (Ian Blair, evaluation, November-December 2020, Clearbell Capital LLP, KT-WFA20.)
Canterbury, Rhodaus Town (Phase 2, 5-5a) (TR 614883 157364)
Two boreholes were monitored between 28th and 30th May 2019 in advance of the demolition of the Former Arts Centre and the proposed construction of student accommodation on the site. The site lies adjacent to land excavated in 2015-16 that produced archaeological evidence from the prehistoric, Roman (a 4th-century cemetery projected to extend eastwards across the site), Anglo-Saxon, post- medieval and 20th-century pitting dated to the Second World War. The boreholes established a sequence of undated deposits on the northern limit of the site with the natural terrace gravels at c.4m below current level sealed by redeposited/reworked brickearth, possibly indicating backfills within a pit, quarry or grave on the north side of the site. (Portia Askew, watching brief, May 2019, Canbury Holdings Ltd, KT-RHC19.)
vince gardiner, karen thomas, cecilia levratto francese and annalisa rivoli
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The Romano-British Villa and Anglo-Saxon Cemetery at Eccles, Kent: A summary of the excavations by Alec Detsicas with a consideration of the archaeological, historical and linguistic context. By Nick Stoodley and Stephen R. Cosh, with contributions by Jillian Hawkins and Courtnay Konshu. 276 pp. Colour and b/w illustrations throughout. Archaeopress Publishing Ltd, Oxford, 2021. Paperback,
£45.00. ISBN 9781789695878, Epublication (pdf) ISBN 9781789695885 £15.00.
For over three decades Eccles has been a skeleton rattling in Kent’s archaeological tool shed. It has cast a long and salutary shadow; ‘We don’t want another Eccles’ is a watchword whenever a potentially lengthy and complex piece of fieldwork is considered. It is a problem that has particularly troubled Romanists: here was one of the largest and most important Roman building complexes in South-East England yet it remained unpublished beyond Alec Detsicas’ interim reports in Archaeologia Cantiana (1963-77; 1989). Perhaps less known to the general reader, yet in fact comparatively well-studied, is the Early Medieval cemetery situated alongside the villa. This is already in the public domain in the form of a preliminary report by Rachel Shaw in Archaeologia Cantiana but was covered only briefly in Detsicas’ series of reports.
In 1986, with the aid of grants from the Kent Archaeological Society, specialist reports as well as drawings of registered finds were commissioned. Fewer than half of these reports were completed, with others either not received or unfinished. In 1999, shortly before his death, with the Eccles project the responsibility of no organisation or person bar himself, Detsicas arranged for the Canterbury Archaeological Trust to take interim custody of the finds until a permanent home could be found. There they were catalogued, and their conservation requirements assessed, and they reside with the Trust to this day while the paper and photographic archives remain in Shaw’s care. Most of the human remains were transferred to Bradford University. Efforts made at the time to secure the substantial funding that full publication would require were unsuccessful. News of the impending publication of this volume was therefore met with a degree of surprise in some quarters; it is down to the generosity of the William and Edith Oldham Charitable Trust that the Eccles excavations are finally reaching a wider readership.
The cover title of the volume, The Romano-British Villa and Anglo-Saxon Cemetery at Eccles, Kent, might lead some to expect full excavation reports on both elements of the site. It is, in fact both less and more than this. The chapter on the cemetery (Ch. 4) is indeed intended to act as a site report, but in the absence of the necessary specialist contributions, there is no pretence at presenting a definitive report on the villa.
For the villa excavations (Ch. 3) Stephen Cosh is reliant on Detsicas’ published interim reports supplemented by consultation of archival material. The site is, for
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a rural one, complicated. Difficulties arise not only from robbing, truncation and plough damage but from repeated rebuilding and remodelling, particularly of the baths. Some of these complexities seem to be reflected in inconsistencies between some of Detsicas’ plans (readily understandable given the site was investigated in seasonal ‘bites’ rather than continuous open area excavation). Cosh negotiates many difficulties regarding phasing and dating (much of which must remain provisional, particularly in the absence of contextualised finds reports) in order to guide the reader through the development of the buildings from modest house to grand winged-corridor villa with a palatial bath suite. Most significantly, he suggests some alternative phasing for certain elements in the baths. These allow for a decompression of Detsicas’ timeline where the end of Period 2 is pushed back as early as possible in order to accommodate the number of changes assumed to have taken place in Period 3. Detsicas himself, it appears, was not yet satisfied with the dating scheme at the time of his death.
Nick Stoodley has a great deal more material to draw on for his report on the Anglo-Saxon inhumation cemetery. Besides Shaw’s published catalogue and plan, these include a published (summary) finds report and unpublished inventory by Sonia Hawkes and a raft of post-graduate and other studies of the human remains. He is thus able to present a catalogue integrating both osteological and artefactual evidence as well as discussions of the grave goods, chronology, burial practice and social aspects.
The earliest burials are of the type classified as ‘Final Phase’, 24 having grave goods dating to the mid-seventh to earlier eighth centuries. Burials continued into the tenth century, by which point it is suggested that it is an example of Hadley’s Type 3 cemetery (simple, unbounded and without a church). The challenges here are different. No burial plans were drawn and very few grave cuts were visible owing to the nature of the soils. The total population of the cemetery is unknown, partly because of disturbance caused by intercutting of graves over the cemetery’s long life and subsequently by agricultural damage. Shaw’s catalogue lists 202 burials plus other groups of disturbed remains but others who have studied these have produced lower figures. An unusually high level of paleopathology was recorded among the Eccles population; a concern is that the discrepancy in numbers of individuals reflects a research-based collection bias which has exaggerated this trend.
The presence of grave goods and the genetic and osteological studies mean that much more can be directly deduced about the Anglo-Saxon population that were buried at Eccles than about the inhabitants of the Roman villa. Although relatively healthy, there seems to have been an exceptional degree of sharp-force trauma weapon injuries both healed and fatal. These derived from both phases of the cemetery, with males in particular suffering cranial trauma and multiple injuries indicative of face-to-face fighting (details listed in an appendix). It is suggested that the earlier traumatic injuries may be connected to the conflict reported by Bede during the expansion of the Kentish kingdom, and the later to Viking attack. Superficially this seems to be at odds with the low number of burials accompanied by weapons (just three, of which one may be female). It is suggested this may be to do with status as by the seventh century weapon burials had become a symbol of prestige. Even allowing for accompanied burial being on the wane,
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the proportion of burials with grave goods at Eccles was low in comparison with contemporary cemeteries at Holborough and Cuxton; this evidence may imply that the community buried here was of low standing. It is also pointed out, however, that levels of health and nutrition were relatively good; the lack of burial wealth may have expressed a cultural decision rather than actual poverty. Chapter 5 considers the non-cemetery evidence of the period: probable boundary ditches upon which the cemetery encroached and which relate to an unlocated settlement and an imperfectly understood post-built structure that stood adjacent to, and probably contemporary with, the cemetery.
These chapters are well-illustrated and colour photographs abound. For the villa, newly drawn, colour-coded plans aid understanding of phasing and the development of the buildings. For the cemetery, various iterations of Shaw’s original plan have been digitised and are usefully viewable via either QR scanner or weblinks where they can be enlarged and used to explore the spatial patterning of grave goods, burial plots, genetic groups, and sex and age groups.
The volume is particularly strong on context and, for both periods, Eccles is viewed in the light of other relevant sites, both locally and further afield, while contemporary evidence for settlement in the Medway valley is summarised. Gaps in our knowledge notwithstanding, there is informed speculation about aspects of the villa’s economy and ownership and the inevitable discussion of its latest phases in the context of the social and political upheavals of the third and fourth centuries. The introductory chapter includes consideration of landscape setting, while Chapter 2 covers the Late Iron Age evidence, both on the site, where several phases of ditches (though no settlement focus) preceded the villa and in its hinterlands. Unexpected and particularly welcome is the inter-disciplinary approach exemplified by the inclusion of chapters on place names (Hawkins; Ch. 6) and documentary evidence (Konshuh; Ch. 7). The name Eccles indicates the presence of a late Roman Christian community while other place-name evidence suggests the existence of a short-lived British/Romano-British enclave centred on the mouth of the river Medway after the collapse of the Roman administration. These ideas chime with both the tendency for Anglo-Saxon burials to be focussed on older religious foci and, if Germanic people indeed settled the Eccles area relatively late, with the fact
that the cemetery at Eccles is also comparatively late in origin.
The final chapter is a sweeping, multi-period discussion of the themes already explored: landscape environment and settlement patterns; burial ritual and religious belief; economy, society and community and territorial and political organisation and is thus a guide to the development of settlement in the Medway valley from the Iron Age to the later Anglo-Saxon period. The authors state, however, ‘This project is only intended as the beginning of what is hopefully a new era into research and work on Eccles. In fact, its overriding aim is to emphasise the national importance of the Roman villa and to reenergise efforts to achieve a formal excavation report’ (p. 228).
In the meantime, one can only congratulate the authors on having produced such a wide-ranging, stimulating and informative volume that will surely help to bring Eccles to the wider prominence it deserves both in academic circles and amongst a more general readership. Many now and in the future will be rightly thankful to Paul Oldham for commissioning the project. It is a book that delivers more than
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its title suggests and it deserves a place on the shelves of all interested in Kent’s Roman or Early Medieval archaeology and history.
ELIZABETH BLANNING
The Wandering Herd: The Medieval Cattle Economy of South-East England c.450- 1450. By Andrew Margetts. xviii + 272 pp. Windgather Press, 2021. Paperback,
£34.99. ISBN 978-1-91118-879-7; epub 978-1-91118-880-3.
This detailed study seeks to highlight the importance of cattle farming during the medieval period in the counties of Sussex, Surrey and Kent, a topic that the author believes has been neglected in favour of studies on sheep and pig pastoral regimes. Adopting the French system of designating the landscape into pays, a system Everitt used to great effect for his study of early medieval Kent in 1986, the author explores a range of evidence from across these counties in chapters such as one on place names and another on oval enclosures as landscape features, as well as exploring in depth two case studies in the Sussex Weald at Hayworth and Wickhurst.
Probably not surprisingly, the author concentrates a great deal of attention on the Weald, and to a lesser extent the South Downs with the result that of the counties within his study Sussex is discussed far more fully than either Kent or Surrey, although place-name evidence is used for the latter. Of course, landscape crosses county boundaries, but for the purposes here this review concentrates on his assessment of Kent. The author is keen to stress the value of interdisciplinary studies and the importance of bringing together archaeological (above and below ground, including animal bone assemblages), place-name and documentary evidence which is exemplary, but for Kent this is not developed as fully as it could have been. While acknowledging that Cullen’s doctoral thesis does update Wallenberg’s two detailed 1930s volumes on the county’s place names, because Cullen looked at only two of the Kentish lathes Margetts has chosen to ignore completely place names in Kent within his systematic analysis. This seems a pity because it would have allowed him to look in more detail beyond the Weald and brought in more fully east Kent to his overarching regional analysis.
As well as exploring the landscape through his investigation of routeways and enclosures amongst other features, the author does draw on some documentary evidence, predominantly in the form of charters but as his list of abbreviations highlights, his use of manorial documents is heavily reliant on Sussex material and on custumals. This seems a missed opportunity with regard to Kent, not least because Campbell in his chapter in Later Medieval Kent (2010) stresses that within the county ‘cattle were the most important category of animal stocked.’ (p. 34). Although Campbell’s assessment is based on primary sources for seigneurial agriculture, it is feasible a sizeable proportion of the peasantry followed similar practices and the limited number of studies on manorial and other documentary sources would generally concur with this view.
The book is attractively illustrated with numerous colour photographs and has a sizeable number of maps and tables. Bearing in mind the considerable use of data from Sussex in his analysis, for those looking more towards what was happening in medieval Kent this book is an interesting addition to works within the Kent
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History Project and more localised studies. There is a very extensive bibliography, but an index would have been useful. Overall, the author’s enthusiasm for his subject is clearly visible and his book offers a further useful reminder of the role of animal husbandry in medieval society.
SHEILA SWEETINBURGH
Maritime Kent Through the Ages: Gateway to the Sea. Edited by Stuart Bligh, Elizabeth Edwards and Sheila Sweetinburgh. 588 pp., 24 b/w and 32 colour illustrations, and 5 tables. The Boydell Press, 2021. Hardback, £50. ISBN 9781783276257, Ebook (EPDF) £19.99, ISBN 9781800103054.
As the editors of this illuminating volume argue a book focused on Kent’s maritime history was long overdue. The book is structured through a series of themes which explore Kent’s maritime past.
The book opens with an engaging chapter on topography by Chris Young. This chapter provides the necessary context to understanding how the evolution of Kent’s climate and coastline shaped the county’s maritime past and continues to affect its present. The longshore drift, for example, encouraged the development of spits and shingle deposits that in turn affected access to some of Kent’s harbours.
The section on defence covers the Roman occupation of Kent and the development of the Saxon Shore Forts, to the period after the Napoleonic Wars. As demonstrated in the chapters by Adrian Jobson and Christopher Ware, in order to provide effective defence against seaborne invaders it was necessary for naval operations at sea to be supported by strategically placed fortifications. As Andrew Lambert argues, from 1815-1865 Kent’s forts, Martello Towers, and harbours of refuge combined with royal dockyards and a large fleet, facilitated English dominance of the English Channel, North Sea, and the Baltic.
The section on trade and industry demonstrates Kent’s importance in national and overseas trade from Roman times to the present day. Elizabeth Blanning shows the short crossing from Kent to Roman Gaul meant the county became the conduit for the spread of Roman culture across Britain, and an important centre of trade. Andrew Richardson’s chapter also demonstrates that Kent’s favourable geographic position enabled the county to thrive after Rome’s legions left. Archaeological finds, for example, show that from the fifth to seventh centuries Kent’s population became consumers of goods imported from Francia, Frisia and Scandinavia and, conversely, exported commodities to the continent. The chapter by Maryanne Kowaleski demonstrates the importance of Kent’s ports in the late middle ages. From 1478-82 Sandwich, and its associated Kent ports, controlled over five per cent of the value of the nation’s overseas trade. The chapter by Jane Andrewes examines trade and industry over two centuries (1500-1700). Kent’s proximity to London, in addition to the location of key naval bases, ensured that the county’s overseas and coastal trades increased, while traditional industries such as fishing continued to play an important role in the economic life of the county. David Killingray’s chapter on trade and industry after 1700 demonstrates how environmental change, population growth, and expanding maritime trade, both seaborne and riverine, led to infrastructure developments that enabled Kent’s industries to expand.
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Gillian Draper begins the section on coastal communities by examining the Cinque Ports in the middle ages. Draper demonstrates how the freedoms and privileges enjoyed by the Cinque Ports created an early form of self-government. The Chapter by Ben Marsh and David Killingray is most welcome. Here they discuss the increasing diversity of Kent’s population, a development encouraged by expanding overseas trade, the Atlantic slave trade, and other colonial initiatives. Next Sandra Dunster argues that in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries the inhabitants of Kent’s coastal zone developed a distinctive identity. In the following chapter Elizabeth Edward’s shows that in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries Kent’s population expanded due to the advent of the railway, the expansion of the naval dockyards, and the development of some towns into seaside resorts.
The last section of the book focuses on a series of enriched case studies. Susan Rose’s chapter investigates the importance of Sandwich in the later middle ages. It is sometimes easy to forget how important Sandwich used to be, but the chapters by Jobson, Kowaleski, and Rose remind readers that it was once a key trading hub, and central to the crown’s martial and diplomatic endeavours. Sheila Sweetinburgh’s chapter focuses attention on Hythe fishing families in the late middle ages through a close study of the Stace family. Sweetinburgh draws on evidence from local records to show the types and quantities of fish that were caught, the inheritance strategies of fishers, and the role women played in such communities. In the next chapter Melanie Caiazza uses a sample of 1,400 probate records to analyse the cultural and religious diversity of Sheppey’s communities in the Tudor period. Gill Wyatt builds on Caiazza’s chapter by examining early modern Thanet. Wyatt demonstrates how industries such as farming and fishing, in addition to migration, marriage and kinship networks connected Thanet to the mainland and the Continent. Claire Bartram’s chapter takes us into the world of cultural geography by looking at references to Dover in early modern poetry and literature. Dover frequently appears as a safe harbour, but also a start or end point for important events such as Henry VIII’s embarkation to the Field of the Cloth of Gold and the restoration of the monarchy in 1660. Carolyn W. de la L. Oulton uses literature to remind us that seaside resorts were often liminal spaces where the upper classes rubbed shoulders with those lower down the social order, a practice that created some consternation among Victorian writers. The final chapter by Jo Stanley focuses on the lives of women in Dover in the First World War. Stanley examines the writings of Helen Beale, a thirty-two year old Women’s Royal Service officer. As Stanley shows, her writings allow us to look at Kent’s maritime history through the lens of emotions. The synergy of archaeologists, geographers, literary scholars, and historians marks this book as an important addition to existing scholarship. Taken together the authors show Kent acted as a conduit of social, cultural, and economic exchange, and was often at the forefront of the nation’s defence. These chapters, therefore, centre Kent’s maritime past (and present) within a wider national narrative. As noted by Margarette Lincoln in the Afterword, ‘this volume is a milestone and
points the way to future studies’.
CRAIG LAMBERT
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‘An obscure and inconsiderable parish’: A History of Frittenden. By Phil Betts. xii + 307 pp, 16 colour and b/w plates. Canterley Publishing, 2021. Hardback, £17 plus p&p via the Frittenden Historical Society: website, frittendenhistoricalsociety. co.uk/publications or direct from the author, email pfjb21@outlook.com. ISBN 978-1-7399928-0-4
Local histories come in many forms often reflecting the particular interests of their compilers, but the majority originate in enthusiasm for, and attachment to, their location. In this respect, Phil Betts’ study of Frittenden is no different, but as an exemplar of local history writing it stands out as something more exceptional.
The introductory chapters bring out clearly the link between topography of the Lower Weald and early, Anglo-Saxon, scattered demesne settlements most of which later developed into manors and eventually became the parish of Frittenden. The majority are now only remembered and identified in local site names. It would appear that it was with the building of the Norman church of St Mary, perhaps replacing an earlier Saxon building, that the manors began to cohere into a defined settlement which was to be much influenced by the proximity of the wealthy and large wool town of Cranbrook. The impact of the Black Death in the middle of the fourteenth century and the Peasants Revolt in 1380, challenging the political status quo as wage labour grew stronger, together with Jack Cade’s Rebellion seventy years later, were all important events closely involving the population of Wealden parishes. Betts’ handling of the wider social, economic and political issues in that troubled century helps to draw a picture of life in the Weald, and ensures the reader is aware that however ‘obscure’ and ‘inconsiderable’ Frittenden may have been, its inhabitants were (and are) as much part of the Weald as others.
These early chapters are very important for interpretations of later periods which benefit from an almost forensic research and analysis by Betts into all the available records. The local resident reading this book will no doubt find details of names, places, occupations, local organisations and events, inter alia, fascinating, but the outsider might gloss over the names as the characters in the building of a quasi- Brueghelian complete picture where each small grouping adds something to the whole.
The core of the book is an impressive discussion of the development of the modern parish throughout the nineteenth century and centres much around the life, career and influence of the rector (1848-69), Edward Moore, and then of his successors. The grandson of an archbishop of Canterbury of originally humble origins, Moore had a very privileged upbringing and married into the aristocracy, thereby cementing his social status. Once established in Frittenden he made many changes to the built fabric of the village starting with a rebuild of the Rectory (Frittenden House) and then updating the church and eventually became the largest resident landowner in the parish, making improvements (sometimes resisted) and opening a National School in the 1850s. Although the dominance of one man, who was the leading name in all the committees and organisations he was involved with, does not fit well with modern ideas of rural communities, there is no doubt that Frittenden owes much of its modern structure to the activities of Edward Moore.
The latter part of the book deals more briefly with the twentieth century up to
c.1974 when Local Government was restructured. Betts has divided this period
REVIEWS
into four main parts: The First World War, the inter-war years, the Second World War, and the post-war period. They make fascinating reading and, for the first time in the study, a clearer picture emerges of the role of women and many are mentioned by name for the first time. The details of war service and other activities are recorded in the eleven comprehensive appendices which cover much of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and provide a valuable resource for other local historians. Although the twentieth century is dealt with more briefly than the nineteenth-century story, Betts does cover all the minutiae of twentieth-century developments including post office, water supply, a multi-functional public house, public transport and other services. And the underlying theme running throughout the book is the crucial role of agriculture, its supporting services and industries, and the people who grew up, lived and worked in the parish.
There is a useful index, a comprehensive bibliography and a rather strange format for footnoting with all notes numbered from i to dxxxv throughout the book and listed after the appendices. Short textual commentaries are usefully included as arabic numbered footnotes within the main text. The only thing that is missing in this thorough and very accessible read is one, or perhaps even two, supporting, explanatory maps.
ELIZABETH EDWARDS
50 Finds from Kent: Objects from the Portable Antiquities Scheme. By Jo Ahmet. 96pp, illustrations throughout. Amberly Publishing, 2021. Paperback, £15.99, Kindle £12.90. ISBN 9781445697826.
The 50 Finds series of books highlight Portable Antiquities Scheme (PAS) discoveries from different counties, putting these into their historical and archaeological contexts. Like its companions, 50 Finds From Kent, authored by Kent Finds Liaison Officer, Jo Ahmet, has written an attractively produced and profusely illustrated volume.
The book is organised chronologically, from the Stone Age to the post- Medieval periods. A brief word sketch of each period, supplemented by artistic reconstructions, maps and photographs, is followed by a selection of finds. This is wide ranging and not confined to the small metallic finds one tends to associate with the scheme. Although these dominate, we also find worked flints, samian pottery, even an Anglo-Saxon leather shoe and a complete Roman quernstone. Headlining finds, such as the Bronze Age Ringlemere gold cup and the Late Iron Age Bridge helmet, rub shoulders with humbler objects and the lost small change of centuries. All of these are used to illustrate aspects of life and society at the time they were used.
As one might expect, given the author’s specialist interests, Anglo-Saxon jewellery is interestingly covered with a useful visual timeline of changing styles and examples of uncommon Frankish finds.
Unfortunately, the illustrations have no scale, making it hard to judge the size of some items. However, this appears to be an editorial decision common to the whole series.
In all, this is an enjoyable and informative journey through Kent’s long history
REVIEWS
via the medium of lost possessions. One hopes it may open more eyes to the value of artefacts as sources of archaeological information and, indeed, the value of the Portable Antiquities Scheme itself. This, through the nearly 1.5 million objects now recorded nationally, is transforming our understanding of various topics (such as Viking and Anglo-Saxon landscapes and economy) and is providing a vast resource for further research.
ANNUAL BIBLIOGRAPHY OF KENTISH ARCHAEOLOGY AND HISTORY
Compilers: D. Saunders (Kent History & Library Centre),
K. Parfitt, Prof. D. Killingray.
A bibliography of books, articles, reports, pamphlets published in the calendar year 2021, unless otherwise stated.
GENERAL AND MULTI-PERIOD
Allen, T.G., ‘Prehistoric to Medieval Discoveries Along the A21 Tonbridge-Pembury Dualling
Scheme’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 188-234.
Ahmet, J., 50 Finds From Kent: objects from the Portable Antiquities Scheme (Stroud: Amberley
Publishing).
Betts, P., An Obscure and Inconsiderable Parish: a history of Frittenden (Tenterden: Canterley
Publishing Ltd).
Biddulph, E. et al., London Gateway: settlement, farming and industry from prehistory to the present in the Thames Estuary: archaeological investigations at DP World London Gateway Port and Logistics Park, Essex, and on the Hoo Peninsula, Kent (Oxford: Oxford Archaeology).
Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell Press), ‘Introduction’, 1-21.
Canterbury Archaeological Trust., Canterbury’s Archaeology 2019-2020, 44th Annual Report (Canterbury: CAT).
Flintham, D., ‘Centre for Experimental Military Archaeology at Detling’, KAS, 116, 17-19.
Gibbons, V. and T., ‘The Middle/Late Iron Age and Roman Finds made by Antoinette Powell-Cotton on the Foreshore and Cliff Tops at Minnis Bay, Birchington’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 81- 104.
Lincoln, M., ‘Afterword’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell Press), 487-491.
McGonigal, C., The Deedes Family in Hythe, Kent 1580-1800 (Hythe: Hythe Civic Society Local History Group).
Margetts, A., The Wandering Herd: the medieval cattle economy of South-East England c.450-1450
(Oxford: Windgather Press).
Newell, N., ‘Cranbrook In Hundred And Lathe’ Cranbrook Journal, 31, 1-4 (2020).
Nicholls, H., ‘Evidence of Late Iron Age/Early Roman Settlement and an Early Medieval Strips Field
System at Shadoxhurst’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 118-31.
Pattison, P., The Great Tower of Dover Castle – history, architecture and context (Swindon: Historic England, 2020).
Pittman, S., Crockenhill: past and present (Tenterden: Canterley Publishing).
Rady, J., Evidence for a Neolithic midden, later prehistoric and Anglo-Saxon settlement at the site of the new Ellington and Hereson school, Ramsgate. Occas. Paper 13 (Canterbury: CAT).
Stoodley, N. and Cosh, S.R., The Romano-British Villa and Anglo-Saxon Cemetery at Eccles, Kent: a summary of the excavations by Alex Detsicas with a consideration of the archaeological, historical and linguistic context (Oxford: Archaeopress Archaeology).
Varrall, C., Engineering Richborough (Deal: Addelam Books) [development of Richborough from
Roman times].
Woodhams, J., Canterbury in 50 buildings (Stroud: Amberley Publishing).
Young, C., ‘Kent’s Changing Coastal Landscape: a view across space and time (or “Where the land meets the sea!)”’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 25-81.
KENTISH BIBLIOGRAPHY 2021
PREHISTORIC
Beresford, F., ‘A Further Refitting Reduction Sequence of Early Middle Palaeolithic Laminar Flakes from Stoneham’s Pit, Crayford, Kent’, KAS, 114, 38-43.
Philp, B., A. Woodcock and P. Couldrey, Prehistoric Sites on the Kent M25 Motorway (Dover: KARU).
Sparey-Green, C., ‘Bigbury Camp and its Associated Earthworks: recent archaeological research’,
Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 31-58.
ROMAN
Blanning, E., ‘Trade and Industry during the Roman period’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 171-194.
Boden, D. and J. Weekes, ‘Near the Heart of Romano-British Durovernum: excavations at 70 Stour Street, Canterbury’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 286-297.
Cramp, G., ‘The Re-Discovery of Hartlip Roman Villa’, KAS, 116, 22-25.
Goacher, D., ‘The Roman Building at Chart Sutton Revisited’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 253- 272.
Philp, B. and J. Wilson, The Discovery of a Roman Settlement in the Centre of Gravesend (Dover:
KARU, 2020).
Topham, G. et al., ‘The Lympne Roman Settlement: geophysics results’, KAS, 114, 24-28.
Wallis, S., ‘Evidence of Late Roman Settlement near the site of the Church Hall, Kemsing’,
Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 273-285.
ANGLO-SAXON
Parfitt, K., ‘Defending the Kent Coast – Roman to Anglo-Saxon’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 85-109.
Richardson, A., ‘Far-Fetched Treasures: the maritime networks of the Kingdom of Kent’, in Bligh, S.,
E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 195-214.
MEDIEVAL
Andrews, M., Coin Hoarding in Medieval England and Wales, c.973-1544: behaviours, motivations, and mentalités (Oxford: BAR Publishing, 2019) [Includes Kent examples].
Calazza, M., ‘Saints and Weirs: late medieval and early modern communities within a small island landscape in North Kent’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 401-415.
Carter, M., ‘The Late Monastery of Boxley in the Countie of Kent: court of augmentation accounts for the dissolving of Boxley Abbey’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 176-187.
Cole, D., Medieval Tonbridge Revealed (Tonbridge: Tonbridge History Society).
Dawkes, G., The Medieval Hospital of St Mary & Other Features: excavations at Friary Place, Strood, Kent (Portslade, East Sussex: SpoilHeap Publications, 2020).
image
De Beer, L. and N. Speakman, Thomas Becket: murder and the making of a saint (London: The
British Museum) [850th anniversary].
Draper, G., ‘Urban Privilege? The advantages and enjoyment of Cinque Ports’ status in the Middle Ages’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh, (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 277-297.
Harrington, D., ‘The Manor of Elverton in the Parish of Stone next Faversham’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 235-252.
Holman, J. et al., Medieval New Romney A Town Shaped by Water: the archaeology of the first time
sewer. Occas. Paper No. 12 (Canterbury: CAT, 2020).
Jobson, A., ‘The Maritime Defences of Kent from the loss of Normandy to the Hundred Years’ War’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh, (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 111-131.
KENTISH BIBLIOGRAPHY 2021
Kowaleski, M., ‘Maritime Trade and Industry in Medieval Kent’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 215-233.
Logan, F.D. (ed.), The Register of Simon Sudbury, Archbishop of Canterbury 1375-1381 (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2020).
Raven, M., ‘William Clinton, Earl of Huntingdon, and the County of Kent: a study of magnate service under Edward III’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 59-80.
Rose, S., ‘The Political and Strategic Importance of the Port of Sandwich in the late Middle Ages c.1340-1500’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 371-385.
Shaw, D., ‘When was Canterbury Cathedral’s Medieval Library Building Demolished?’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 321-326.
Smith, K. and D. Lloyd, ‘Alexander Iden, Captor of Jack Cade (1450): his family and the evidence of a memorial in Penshurst church’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 311-321.
Splarn, L., ‘St Thomas Becket and the Pilgrim Souvenirs in Canterbury’s Collections’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 299-310.
Stevens, S., ‘A Middle Iron-Age Bloomery and other features at Heartenoak Road, Hawkhurst,
Kent’, Wealden Iron, 41, 4-22.
Sweetinburgh, S., ‘“Ready to go to Sea”: maintaining fishing families in late medieval Hythe’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 387-400.
Webster, P., The Cult of Thomas Becket in the Plantagenet World 1170 -1220 (Woodbridge: Boydell
Press).
EARLY MODERN
Allen, T. and Martin, T.F., The Castle Hill Brickworks and Somerhill Estate: post medieval discoveries on the A21 Tonbridge-to-Pembury Dualling Scheme, Kent (Oxford: Oxbow Archaeology).
Andrews, J., ‘The Early Modern Period 1500-1700: trade and industry’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and
S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 235-252.
Bartram, C., ‘“Dost Thou Know Dover?”: locating Dover in the early modern literary imagination c.1500-1660’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 433-450.
Dunster, S., ‘Maritime Communities in Seventeenth- and Eighteenth-Century Kent’, in Bligh, S.,
E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell),
325-343.
Fox, Paul A., Great Cloister: a lost Canterbury tale, a history of the Canterbury cloister, constructed 1408-14, with some account of the donors and their coats of arms (Oxford: Archaeopress Archaeology, 2020).
Wedd, I., ‘Gavelkind on the Ground, 1550-1700’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 1-30.
Whitewright, J. (ed.), The Stirling Castle, a 70-gun ship lost in the Great Storm of 1703. Archaeological Investigations 1979-2009 (Oxford: BAR Publishing, 2020) [wreck on Goodwin Sands].
Wyatt, G., ‘Early Modern Thanet: an open society’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh
(eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 417-432.
MODERN
Adams, E., Rolvenden School: a history (Tenterden: Canterley Publishing Ltd) [3 centuries of history]. Ashwin-Kean, C., Herne Bay War Memorial Park: celebrating 100 years (Herne Bay: Herne Bay
Historical Records Society, 2019).
Barham, William., Forty Years A Potter: Dorothy Watson and the Bridge Pottery, 1921-1961
(Biddenden: YouByYou Books, 2020).
Bull, A., Walking Charles Dickens’ Kent (Ammanford: Sigma Leisure).
Cheeseman, C., Sittingbourne’s Forgotten Bus Operators: Jessop’s of Frinstead and others (Walsall:
Omnibus Society, 2020).
Cole, D., The Tonbridge Knights Walk: 14 circular walks through the Weald of Kent (Kings Lynn: Biddles Books Ltd).
KENTISH BIBLIOGRAPHY 2021
Cromie, D., ‘Minutes from Disaster: a year of boardroom troubles on the London Chatham and Dover Railway 1866-1867’, Invicta, 97, 4-15.
Crosse, J., ‘Westerham A Lost Heritage’, Steam Railway, 525, (Nov-Dec), 72-77.
Down, C., ‘Cement Railways of South-East England (26-28): Kent Works, Stone’, The Industrial Locomotive, Part 1, 179, 289-306; Part 2, 180,1-12; Part 3, 181, 33-48.
Edwards, E., ‘A Rich Diversity: modern Kent coast communities’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 345-368.
Eeles, D., ‘Sandwich Haven: Part 1 - When Sail was King’, Topsail, 54, 11-38.
Floate, M., Football Grounds in Kent: a visual history (Yorkshire: Newlands Photographic, 2020). Franklin, G. et al., Ramsgate: the town and its seaside heritage (Swindon: Historic England, 2020). Fridman, I., Foreigners, Aliens, Citizens: Medway and its Jewish community (UK: Birch Leaf Press,
2020).
Goodridge, D.M., Warders Medical Centre: the history of a practice in Tonbridge and Penshurst 1808-2021 (Kent: David Goodridge).
Granville, V., Sevenoaks in a Time of Change: dynamism diversity resilience (Sevenoaks: Silver Pines Press, 2020).
Gunnill, G., ‘The Man Who Captured Sandwich’, Bygone Kent, 42, 4, 14-23 [photographer William Boyer 1827-1897].
Hellicar, C., ‘Handcross – a forgotten tragedy’, Bromleag, 60, 11-21 [1906 annual day trip of the Orpington volunteer fire brigade; an early motorised transport accident].
Hendy, J., Chatham Steamers: the paddle steamers of the London Chatham & Dover railway
(Romney Marsh: Invicta Maritime).
Hendy, J., Rails across the Harbour: Folkestone and its branch line (Romney Marsh: Invicta
Maritime, 2020).
Holden, C., Cold War Kent (Stroud: Amberley Publishing).
Holyoake, G., Secret Deal & Walmer (Stroud: Amberley Publishing, 2020).
Hopkins, D., ‘James Blackman’s Letters to the Governor of New South Wales on Illicit Distillers,
1806’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 330-332.
Opkins, D., ‘James Blackman’s letters to the governor of New south Wales on the illicit dstillers,1806’,
Hubbard, R. and G. Downer, The Smugglers Trail: geology of the Thanet coastline from Broadstairs to Cliftonville (Kent: GeoConservation Kent).
James, J., The East Kent Railway and the Knees Woodland Railway (Chippenham: Mainline &
Maritime, 2020).
James, J., The Swanley New Barn Railway at 35 (Chippenham: Mainline & Maritime).
Kent Historic Defences Group, ‘From the Great War to the Cold War: and other conflicts’, KAS, 113, 14-18.
Killingray, D., ‘Maritime Kent: trade and industry since 1700’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 253-273.
Killingray, D., ‘Black People in Sevenoaks since 1600: history and research methods’, The Local Historian, 51, 3, 297-308.
King, D., King of Maidstone (Cranbrook: Stationery Express UK) [history of King’s, a clothing store
in Gabriel’s Hill, Maidstone].
Lambert, A., ‘Kent’s Role in the National Defence Strategy 1815-1865: dockyards and harbours in the age of steam’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 149-167.
LeGear, R., ‘Margate Caves’, KAS, 116, 6-8.
Marsh, B. and D. Killingray, ‘Empire, Race, and Diversifying Kent’s history, c.1500-1840’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 299-323.
Marshall, P.J., ‘The Kentish Associations of a Great West Indian Planter: Sir William Young (1725-
1788) and his Monument at Chartham’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 105-117.
Moss, M. L., The Hollingbourne Doctors (United Kingdom: Pixum, 2020).
Mills, P. and D. Swarbrick, Military Matters in Tonbridge: the impact of the Great War on a small market town (Maidstone: Absolute Creative Print, 2020).
Milton, H. and P. Francis, Kent County Cricket Grounds: 150 years of cricket across the garden of England (Gravesend: H. Milton).
Nisbet, H.A., ‘Edward Hall’s ‘big idea’ for a Dartford Ship Canal: and the measures taken to bring it
KENTISH BIBLIOGRAPHY 2021
to pass’, Dartford Historical & Antiquarian Newsletter, 58, 11-17.
Ormrod, D. and G. Rommelse (eds), War, Trade and the State: Anglo-Dutch Conflict, 1652-1689
(Woodbridge: Boydell Press) [1667 Dutch Medway raid].
Oulton, C.W. de la L., ‘“Fat persons bathing whose appearance was most disgusting”: Entertaining Thanet in the Age of Steam’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 451-466.
Powell, B., ‘Kent or “Sussex Foot” turnwrest ploughs’, Heavy Horse World, (Spring 2019), 55-57. Rogowski, R., Brasted: the past in pictures (Sevenoaks: Brasted Society).
Romyn, M. (ed.), Kent’s Sporting Memories (Maidstone: Kent County Council).
Rootes, A., ‘A Cure in the Countryside’, Bygone Kent, 42, 4, 4-13 [Benenden chest hospital].
Sanders, F., Pluckley was my Playground: a boyhood memoir 1919-26 (Tenterden: Canterley
Publishing, 2020).
Sargent, A. and C. Varrall, From Rink to The Regent: seafront entertainment in Deal since the 1870s
(Deal: BooksEast, 2020).
Scott-Morgan, J., East Kent Railway (Barnsley: Pen & Sword).
Shotter, H., ‘Lenham Camp’, KAS, 116, 9-11.
Smith, V., ‘Surviving Doomsday? The cold war bunker at Gravesend’, KAS, 116, 12-16.
Smith, V.T.C., ‘Kent’s Twentieth-Century Military and Civil Defences. Part 5 – Swale’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 148-175.
Stanley, J., ‘Rhododendrons and Raids: Dover naval women’s daily life and emotions in 1918’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 467-486.
Taylor, I., ‘The Sevenoaks Banking Fraud and its Aftermath 1888-1891’, The Local Historian, 51, 2, 100-12.
Taylor, I., ‘Rail, Risk and Repasts – The Dining Culture of the London, Chatham & Dover Railway,
1888-1899’, Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 132-147.
Titheridge, A., Heartbeat of Hythe: story of the Hythe pier railway (Southampton: Ceratopia Books). Tritton, P., ‘Silver Ghosts & Flying Eagles: Henry Royce’s Kent connection’, KAS, 14, 47-51.
Ware, C., ‘To Defend the Coast’, in Bligh, S., E. Edwards and S. Sweetinburgh, (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell), 133-147.
Warren, R., ‘Cranbrook, Sugar and the Legacy of Slavery’, Cranbrook Journal, 31, 7-12.
Williams, C., ‘The ‘Hales Palace’ Estate Map (1715) Recovered to Canterbury’. Archaeologia Cantiana, cxlii, 326-330.
Wright, D., ‘City of Canterbury Consolidated Probate Index’, Genealogists Magazine, 33, 11, 437-439.
RECENTLY CATALOGUED ARCHIVES
The following is a selection of material in Canterbury Cathedral Archives, Kent History & Library Centre and Medway Archives Centre which was catalogued in 2020/2021.
CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL ARCHIVES
Canterbury Cathedral
Sacrists’ Custumals, 1949 and 1980s (DCc/MR/B/SAC/C/1-2)
Library scrapbook compiled by William Urry, 1931-1960s (DCc/LA/12/3)
Photographs of Canterbury by Francis Frith or Francis Frith & Co photographer, Canterbury, late 19th-early 20th century (DCc/Photo/ALB/12)
Watercolour by John Coney (1786-1833) from the south quire aisle/south-east transept, looking north-east, 1809 (DCc/PRINDRAW/2/J/13)
Map of Eastry Manor/Court by Jared Hill, 1728 (Map/228) Theological treatise fragment, late 15th century (DCc/AddMs/129/69)
Cathedral Tombs, album of photographs 1888-1890s (DCc/Photo/A/46)
KENTISH BIBLIOGRAPHY 2021
Photograph of Frederic William Farrar, Dean of Canterbury Cathedral, in a family group, c.1895
(DCc/Photo/A/47)
Photograph of interior of Howley-Harrison Library, looking east, c.1890s (DCc/Photo/A/48)
‘Nunc Sancte Nobis Spiritus’, anthem by Andrew Parnell dedicated to the Very Rev. Robert Willis on the 30th anniversary of his ordination, 2003 (DCc/MusicMs/160)
Canterbury City and District
Translation by Frank Higenbottam, City Librarian, of John Twyne’s ‘De rebus Albionicis’, 1950s (CC/W/28/12)
Papers relating to Lefevres/Debenhams Department Store, 1905-1985 (CC/W/36)
19th-century correspondence from Home Office to Canterbury Clerk of the Peace relating to Quarter Sessions (CC/J/Q/M/1)
Tower House visitors’ books, 1955-1993 (CC/M/7)
Specification of drainage works for Blue Coat School premises, police station and six cottages in Stour Street, 1871 (CC/P/2/395)
Valuation lists for the parish of Canterbury, 1910 and 1912 (CC/Q/GB/T/5/10/79-80) Collector’s Ledger, 1933-1937 (CC/Q/GB/T/10/1)
Two deeds relating to property in St Paul’s parish, Canterbury, described as the Smith’s Forge and as property in Love Lane, 1608 and 1663 (CC/W/35)
Schedule of City documents by Cyprian Rondeau Bunce, 1794 (CC/Z/4) Papers relating to the Canterbury Michaelmas Fair, 1874-1888 (CC/BB/469)
Correspondence from Home Office to Canterbury Clerk of the Peace relating to Quarter Sessions, 19th-century (CC-J/Q/M/1)
Property conveyance deeds and bond relating to the city of Canterbury, 18th-early 20th century
(CC/W/33-34)
Rural and Urban Districts
Bridge-Blean: rate produce books, 1950-1967; grand summary of the general rates, 1962-1974; record of total rateable values, 1950s-1984 (RD/BB/O/R/1/1-6)
Herne Bay Urban District Council: Inspector of Nuisances Journal, 1889-1892 (UD/HB/O/N/1/24)
Parishes
Ash, St Nicholas (U3/274) Addl.
Canterbury Cathedral: Book of Condolence signed in the Cathedral after the death of Nelson Mandela, 2013 (U3/100/28/16)
Canterbury, SS Martin and Paul (U3/81) Addl.
Chartham, St Mary (U3/154) Addl. Faversham, St Mary (U3/146) Addl. Godmersham, St Lawrence (U3/117) Addl. Hawkinge, St Luke (U3/293) Addl.
Herne Bay, St Bartholomew (U3/286) Addl. Hernhill, St Michael (U3/235) Addl.
Littlebourne, St Vincent (U3/73) Addl.
Margate, St John (U3/140) Addl. Molash, St Peter (U3/219) Addl. Sturry, St Nicholas (U3/48) Addl.
Temple Ewell, SS Peter and Paul (U3/184) Addl.
Unofficial
Scrapbook maintained by Mrs Mary Jakeman, [mother of Paul Jakeman], chorister 1958-1962
(U166/X/1/1)
KENTISH BIBLIOGRAPHY 2021
Photographs of the performance of Peasants’ Priest by Laurie Lee in the Chapter House, 1947 (U167/P/G/36)
Two drawings by Erwin Bossanyi for the Salvation window in Canterbury Cathedral, and two further drawings, 1950s and 1960s (U330/3)
Wallace Harvey family tree, 20th century; copy of will of James Head of Willesborough, Kent, 1818
(U467/L/78/1/8, L/161/1)
8 charters relating to Caldicote manor, Canterbury, and other places, 1321-1429 (U578)
Collection of printed items relating to Thomas Becket, including cuttings and commemorative envelopes, late 19th century-1997 (U582)
Diary and reminiscences of Audrey Beecham, former resident of the Precincts (U583) Papers relating to Dr Allan Wicks, Cathedral Organist 1961-1988 (U581)
Set designs, seemingly for performance of The Young King by Laurence Binyon in the Chapter house,
1934 (U585)
Photographic print of painting of nativity scene from 1928 performance of John Masefield’s The Coming of Christ (U586/1)
Design for screen of Buffs Chapel and drawing by Dennis Woodcock, c1962 (U587)
From the Ken Reedie Collection: carte de visite photographs, mostly portraits, with some cathedral and other local scenes, late 19th century; stereoscopic photographs of cathedral and other local scenes, late 19th century; glass plate slides of depictions of murder of St Thomas Becket, early 20th century (U588/A-C)
KENT HISTORY AND LIBRARY CENTRE
Charities and Societies
Alkham Women’s Institute minutes, 1992-1997 (Ch170/B/4/A/1/2/4)
Records of the Tonbridge Council of Social Services, Old People’s Welfare Committee, and High
Halden Residential Home, c.1939-1993 (Ch191)
Minutes of the Trustees of Huggens College, Northfleet, 1963-1973 (Ch63/A5)
Royal School for Deaf Children, Margate, 1792-2011 (Ch192) NB. cataloguing in progress but enquiries welcome about this collection
Hospitals
Princess Christian’s Hospital, Hildenborough: Visitors’ Book, 1911-1947; Admission and discharge register: male and female patients, 1909-1938 (MH/TW2)
Leybourne Grange Hospital: Daily Journal of Matron, 2 Mar-31 Aug 1940 (MH/TW1/Am1)
Local Government
GSGS [Geographical Section, General Staff] military maps of the county, c.1942 (C/Ad1p/10) Superannuation Committee attendance book, 1937-1972 (C/C/CA/2/15)
County Council blue books, 1991-1993 (C/C/P4/21-23)
KEC Library Sub-Committee reports, 1921-1974 (C/C/R/8/1/2/1-5) County Surveyor’s annual reports (C/C/R/23/1/53-55)
County of Kent Official Diary, 1933-1939, 1947-1977 (C/C/H/2/1-36) KEC Library Sub-Committee minutes, 1921-1974 (C/C/MC/15/14/1-5)
Tunbridge Wells Borough Police Force: Weekly pay sheets, 1926-1927 (C/PO/22/9/11) Tunbridge Wells Borough Police Force: Weekly pay sheets, 1941-1942 (C/PO/22/9/12)
Parish, councils, schools
Alkham, photocopies of school log book, 1865-1900 (C/E/S/5)
Ashford, St Mary: registers of baptisms, marriages, burials, confirmations, banns, services, 1915- 2005; vestry, APCM and PCC minutes, 1880-1971 (P10 addl)
KENTISH BIBLIOGRAPHY 2021
Boxley, SS Mary & All Saints: marriage register, 2005-2017 (P40)
Capel-le-Ferne, photocopies of school admission register, 1911-1944; 1972-1997, (C/E/S/5B) Charing Church of England Primary School: Logbook, admission registers, accounts, 1930-2014 (C/
ES 78 addl)
Detling, SS Martin of Tours: marriage register, 1999-2017 (P117)
East Malling St James County Primary School (Infants): logbooks, 1951-1975 (C/ES 242 addl) Farningham, SS Peter & Paul: Roper’s Charity minutes and accounts, 1909-1982 (P145 addl) Luddesdown parish council: Minutes, accounts etc, 1894-2018 (PC322)
Shoreham, SS Peter and Paul: vestry minutes, 1782-1873 (P335 addl)
Ulcombe parish council: minutes, 1894-2000; Annual Parish Meeting minutes, 1911-1977; receipts and payments book, 1974-1998, etc. (PC321)
Unofficial
Box formerly containing samples of Hollingworth Rag Bond paper, 20th century (U1999/B13/4)
Elmsted Court farm records: correspondence, family and financial records, 1931-early 21st century (U2916 addl.)
Plans for restoration work at Bore Place, Chiddingstone, 1909-1912 (U3948) Title deed for property in Dering Road, Ashford, 1875 (U4112)
Title deeds for Gray’s Farm and related property, Chislet, 1705-1829 (U4120)
Records relating to the Chequers Inn, Lamberhurst, and other areas in Kent, 1856-1987 (U4131)
Title deeds relating to Boresisle Farm/ Silcock Farm and related land in Tenterden, 1777-1857
(U4160)
Notebook of Richard Fermor of Harrietsham, c.1812 (U4201) Title deeds for Leith Villa, Dover, 1883-1925 (U4217)
Promotional material from the Herne Bay and Kent area Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament [CND] Groups, 1982-2019 (U4220)
Tenancy records for 305 Loose Road, Maidstone, 1956-1957 (U4221)
Training notebook of 2nd Lieutenant C.S. Duncan, West Kent Regiment, 1940-1941 (U4227) Kent Local Pharmaceutical Committee records, 1912-1987 (U4230)
Map of Court Lodge Farm, East Farleigh, 1926 (U4182)
Kent County Mental Hospital, Maidstone: commemoration booklet for opening of the Admission
Hospital and Convalescent Villas, 1938 (U4187)
Sevenoaks Parliamentary Division Liberal Association: minutes, 1923-1982 (U4194) Title deeds: land in Clarendon Street and Clarendon Place, Dover, 1881-1938 (U4242) Title deeds: Walmer Cottage, Gillows Bush, Walmer, 1829-1896 (U4200)
Estate map: manor of Rippley alias Ripple in Ripple and Sutton by Dover, by Francis Hill, 1709 (U4224)
Bond of John le Botilet to Geoffrey Nichol, secured by land in Sevenoaks called ‘La Teaghe’, 1274 (U4225)
Title deeds and probate documents: property in Dover and Deal, 1742-1950 (U4229)
Table of Kent manors in Domesday Book, annotated by Edward Hasted; ‘Verses on Den Hill’, late 18th cent. (U4232)
Title deed: Ramherst alias Culverhouse Grove, mills, and land in Leigh and Tonbridge, 1678 (U4234) Title deeds: land to north of Tenterden High Street, and Strongwere in Warehorne, 1773-1903 (U4237)
Henry Headley & Co, grocers of Ashford: additional records, including cash books, etc, 1861-1987 (U2577 addl)
MEDWAY ARCHIVES CENTRE
Parish
Cuxton and Halling: parish records (P108) Addl.
Halling, St John Baptist: parish records via Snodland Historical Society (P165/8/2A) Addl.
Hartley: parish records (P174) Addl
Northfleet, St Mark, Rosherville: records (P270B) Addl.
KENTISH BIBLIOGRAPHY 2021
Stoke parish: records (P350) Addl.
Sutton-At-Hone: parish records via the Kent History & Library Centre (P358/5/2) Addl.
Patrons, Governor and Brethren of St Bartholomew’s Hospital: counterpart leases issued for various properties in Chatham, 1851-1865 (DE1290)
Unofficial
Coulson Family Estate Records (DE1215) Addl.
Gerrard Land and Investment Company Limited and Maidstone No. 2 Estate, 1933-1977, records donated by FOMA via N.J. Lynch (DE1285)
Records of Ernest George Payne whilst in the Royal Naval Volunteer Service (DE1286) Chatham Brewery: account ledger, June 1851-June 1884 (DE1289)
Deeds relating to the Old Post Office, (17 & 17a) Gads Hill, Gillingham, Kent (DE1288)
Transfers from the Guildhall Museum, including commonplace books, minute book of the Rochester and Chatham Ethical Society (later Rochester Philosophical Society), 1897-1914, and Borough of Chatham Visitors Book (including Royal Visits), 1900-1974 (DE1291)
Plan of land behind the Clarendon Public House, Gillingham, 1933 (transfer from Essex Record Office) (DE1284)
Printed
Papers, ephemera, reports donated by Tina Glover (former Arts Development Officer, Gillingham Borough Council)
Ephemera from Friends of Medway Archives
Past exhibition folders by MAC, including Hempstead; Snippets of history; Images of Rochester Bridge; Women’s Suffrage; Know your streets; Chatham Town Centre
Local and general history books donated by the late Pat Salter Archaeological Reports donated by Alan Ward
OBITUARIES
chris pout. b.a., m.a.
Chris Pout, who served the Society as President (2005-2011), died after a period of illness in April 2021. Prior to his term as President he was chair of the Society’s Fieldwork Committee. Beyond the Society he held other roles, being on the management board of Canterbury Archaeological Trust (CAT) and, for a time, was Treasurer of the Trust for Thanet Archaeology (TfTA), during a period of restructuring. In these various formal capacities, and more generally, he proved highly effective in promoting the study of the history and archaeology of the county. His personal qualities and commitment were the key to his success. The marking of the 150th anniversary of the founding of the KAS in 1857, which fell within his Presidency, proved the high watermark of his contribution, as Chris took a central role organizing the various celebratory activities. The accomplished outcome was the product of his foresight, drive, organizational skills and ability to get others to work to these goals. A well-liked figure, his passing brings marked sadness but also many tributes from members and the wider heritage community.
Chris was born in Herne Bay in April 1943. He graduated from Jesus College, Oxford, with a degree in Chemistry. He initially worked for British Petroleum (BP) based in Sunbury, but subsequently moved to their London offices, taking up a role as a business planner; this included a stint in New York. When asked to organise a round of redundancies he was very pleased to put his name first on the list; thus he retired at 50. Retirement soon led to what was to be a de facto second career as he began to pursue his interest in the past. He became a member of the Society in 1996, also in that year progressing to enrol for a part-time degree in Archaeology at the University of Kent, a popular course with a six-year duration. Excavations at Abbey Farm, Minster in Thanet (1996-2004), exploring the Roman villa, were starting as a joint venture of the KAS, TfTA and The Thanet Archaeological Society and became a focus. Chris devoted much energy to its logistical organization. Living somewhat locally (at Marshside) and having transport with, fortuitously, a long trailer, he proved a welcome asset to the project. Abbey Farm was an initiative he championed, being a direct opportunity for members to participate in a research and training project led by their Society (something not matched for another twelve years). As the work at Abbey Farm drew to a close Chris took on responsibility for the very substantial assemblage of Roman tile that had been unearthed. Such material had, until recently, tended to be ignored but new realizations around its potential were clear to Chris and its recording became something of a ‘labour of love’ albeit a lengthy one. He was conscientious in documenting each fragment in detail, the data being stored in a huge spreadsheet. Reports from those sharing the experience at Abbey Farm resound in the view that
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Chris relished his time on site. The excavations were runner-up in the 2004 Pitt Rivers Award and Chris collected the prize at the honours ceremony in Belfast, and around this time he gave a presentation to the Conference for Independent Archaeologists on the findings. He was concerned to see the post-excavation work result in proper study and publication, a goal largely, if not yet fully, realized.
As an archaeological scholar Chris excelled, with a record of high marks, aptly gaining a distinction for his assignments on the Archaeological Fieldwork Techniques and Applications module of his degree. He graduated in 2002 with First Class honours.
He had become a member and then chair (from 2003) of the Society’s Fieldwork Committee which, at that time, had a surprisingly large and keen attendance with individuals squeezed around the large table in the Society’s Library at Maidstone Museum. Chris was elected to the Society’s Council at the AGM of May 2003. Reliable, considered in his thought and actions, with vision and an affable manner it was no surprise that as Paul Oldham’s term of office as Society President drew to a close Chris was tasked, along with other Council members, to seek and sound out potential candidates for the succession. Yet it so happened that his own name was proposed from the membership and, after reflection, Chris agreed to stand, becoming President through election at the AGM in May 2005. His election marked a real difference for it had been normal for the position to follow after a long background of activity in Kent and KAS office-holding. In this respect Chris was a ‘New Man’, lacking such a hinterland and traditional credentials; but that was not to matter.
In a position of leadership a key ‘operating asset’ is skill in communication (plus a sprinkle of persistence) and Chris brought his particularly strong abilities in this area to his roles. In coordinating and arranging the affairs of the Society his commitment to (as it may seem now) ‘old style’ conversation and letter writing, proved a way to largely guarantee swifter and certain outcomes at a time when email and other channels were becoming a somewhat less than personal norm. Hence he journeyed much to speak in person and in the evenings made frequent use of his telephone (dialling and receiving), or composed typed letters. He showed himself to be adept at ‘building bridges’, in managing the types of clashes that can occur between parties in round-table meetings (a well-known feature of Society business for some years) and in resolving issues periodically encountered in a leadership role, and always to the good of this Society.
Chris’ timetable and weekday calendar was arranged, or so it seemed, in sympathy with his other great passion: golf. Yet even on the golf course Kent’s history and archaeology were clearly never far from his mind and his knowledge of some of the antiquities of Kent was suggested to be especially strong in cases where they lay in close proximity to certain fairways. Weekends were often populated with KAS meetings and events or in representing the Society; some 40 weekends a year being taken up with Society business in this way (often with more than one event to attend), a necessity that came with the role and something, indeed, not unique to Chris’ Presidential tenure. He was ably supported through his Presidency by the Hon. Secretary Andrew Moffat, the two forming a complementary team. In addition to 18 holes and the past, there were extensive interests: country pursuits, bell ringing, play writing, skiing, gardening, jam and marmalade making. Throughout,
OBITUARIES
family played a very big part in Chris’ life, though he had become a widower in the early 1980s with the passing of his first wife, Jenny. Chris eventually remarried; he and Pip Fisk were contemporaries in degree study and at Abbey Farm, and a close companionship flourished.
As the sesquicentennial anniversary (2007) approached Chris became the principal organizer and ‘doer’ as the arrangements took form. The efforts were realized in a highly successful exhibition entitled The Hidden Treasures of Kent at Maidstone Museum. This endeavour required the commission of bespoke cabinets for display of highlights of the county’s antiquities, including items dispersed from the county that Chris had secured on loan as well as exhibits drawn from the remarkable collection of the Society itself. Two themed day conferences taking stock of the preceding 50 years of discovery were held at Medway (April) and Canterbury (September) with Chris playing a central role in the arrangements. A celebratory dinner was held at Darwin College, University for Kent, following the second conference, featuring the inaugural award of the Hasted prize (the dinner echoing the first anniversary celebration when between 350-450 were served). There was a garden party too, hosted at Allington Castle, by Sir Robert and Lady Worcester with whom Chris had become friends and who proved great patrons of the Society thereafter.
Presidencies come to an end and Chris’ term was concluded at the AGM of 2011 at the Guildhall Museum, Rochester. Subsequently, Chris was a regular attendee at the main calendar events of the Society, and those of both CAT and TfTA, remaining a stalwart friend of all three, even after illness struck. Thus he attended the last conference of the Society in 2019 before Covid precluded in-person events for essentially two years. An advocate of the active use of the Society’s funds rather than their passive curation he remained ever forward-looking, something in step with his positive verve and temperament. Being made a Patron of the Society was some form of recognition for his contribution. In representing the Society, in communicating its agenda, and through advancing its causes with vitality, he is remembered as having delivered a ‘first rate job’, providing leadership and proving himself to be a very effective chair.
steven willis
albert daniels 1947-2020
Albert Daniels, for many years a stalwart member of Kent’s archaeological fraternity, died in November 2020. Born in our County town he had an abiding interest in the history and archaeology of Maidstone and its environs. He was President of Maidstone Historical Society, as well as one of the earliest members of the Maidstone Area Archaeological Group, founded in 1969. Over the course of his long association with this Group, Albert held, at various times, the positions of archaeological director and chairman. Very appropriately, it happens that this volume contains an article on MAAG’s excavations at East Farleigh 2005-2017, which he directed.
Albert was a unique, gifted amateur archaeologist, with a droll sense of humour
OBITUARIES
and an encyclopaedic knowledge that was confidently relied upon by everyone he met or worked with. He was especially generous in sharing his wide historical and archaeological knowledge and practical experience. His enthusiasm was infectious and he would greatly encourage and patiently oversee newcomers to excavation. He had an easy, relaxed approach, whether the subject concerned was potentially of great significance, or mundane.
He joined the KAS in 1973 serving variously as Local Secretary for Maidstone, Council member, Scrutineer, but especially on the Fieldwork Committee from 1985 until stepping down due to ill health in 2018. He was Secretary for much of that period, but also acted as Vice-chairman.
Although he was based with the Maidstone Group, on whose behalf he carried out many watching briefs, Albert enjoyed travelling around the County to either visit, or work on, other sites. (And further afield – he had close links with the Hastings Group.) Albert was a well-respected and much-loved member of archaeology teams, including those at Randall Manor, and Darent Valley where he played a key role in the post-excavation effort and contributed much of his spare time in his final year of fieldworking. From running the finds tent at the Lullingstone dig in July 2019 to heading the team who spent much of the subsequent year working on processing the environmental material, Albert could be relied upon to take charge. In east Kent Albert regularly helped out at Ringlemere prehistoric site (2002-2006), and at Folkestone Roman villa (2010-2011). The Albert Daniels Archive now in the KAS Library Collections is testament to the scope of Albert’s contributions to the archaeological record.
Albert was one of those great ‘characters’ who do so much to enliven the day- to-day chores of excavation work and his passing leaves an enormous gap in the various archaeological communities in which he served.
deborah goacher
christopher w. chalklin, m.a., b.litt., d.litt.
Christopher Chalklin, economic historian, died in August 2021 aged eighty-eight. He was born in Hendon, north London in 1933 – his parents, both physicists who met working at University College London. In 1946 the family migrated to New Zealand where Christopher’s father, Francis Cecil, had been appointed professor of physics at Canterbury University College. Christopher graduated from the University of Canterbury (NZ) and then proceeded to study at Oxford. His youth was marred by the death of his father in an air crash in Singapore in March 1954. Christopher’s father’s family had close connections to Tonbridge going back several generations. He was anxious to maintain his links with the town and many of his research projects were based on local topics. His first employment at the County Archives Office in Maidstone put him in an ideal position to further that
interest.
Christopher became actively involved with Tonbridge Historical Society in the mid-1960s after his appointment to a readership at the University of Reading. From 1967, over a period of three years, he ran an evening research seminar at Tonbridge
OBITUARIES
Library for the Society to study life in nineteenth-century Tonbridge. From this came the Society’s initial publication Mid-Victorian Tonbridge (1983). This was the first of several increasingly ambitious local publications edited by him on the history of the town. He was extremely enthusiastic about his involvement with the Society and maintained his connection up to the time of his death having, until he became quite frail, been its President – a position he only surrendered when the journey from home in Guildford became too tiring.
Christopher Chalklin was at his happiest working on his major research projects and was the highly-respected author of several important studies on Kentish provincial towns and agrarian society in the two centuries after 1650. Many KAS members will be familiar with his comprehensive volume on Seventeenth-Century Kent: a social and economic history (1965). This provides a fine understanding of the social and economic basis of Kentish society – a clear and concise account based on extensive research and underpinned by his earlier work on Tonbridge and the Wealden region. Sadly, one of the most useful works for historians of the western region of the Weald, his Oxford b.litt. thesis on ‘Tonbridge, a Wealden Parish’, was not made ready for publication by the time of his death. Christopher’s other major interest, which enhanced his academic reputation, was on the growth and development of English towns and their buildings, marked by The Provincial Towns of Georgian England: a study of the building process, 1740-1820 (1974), English Counties and Public Buildings, 1650-1850 (1998) and his succinct survey The Rise of the English Town, 1650-1850 (2001). Christopher also looked at prisons, editing the New Maidstone Gaol Order Book, 1805-23 (1984), and Surrey Gaol and Sessions House, 1791-1824 (2009).
Christopher joined the Kent Archaeological Society in 1956 and for many years was a stalwart member of the Society’s Publications Committee and Vice President (1984-2007). He produced a good number of articles for Archaeologia Cantiana over the years and was a regular contributor to its book reviews section. He was also a keen supporter of the Wealden Iron Research Group. Indeed, his last article for Arch. Cant. (vol. cxxiv) was on iron manufacture in Tonbridge parish from the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries.
patricia mortlock and shiela broomfield
margaret lawrence 1930-2021
Margaret Lawrence died in February 2021, aged 90. She was born in Sheerness but soon her family moved to Chatham where she obtained a scholarship to Rochester Grammar School. Margaret gained a place at a teacher training college but left shortly after as she married and supported her husband, Philip, while he built his career, also in the teaching profession. The family moved to Norfolk when he became a Head Master. She raised her four children during this time also writing a regular column for the local paper. They then moved to East Peckham in 1964 and she went back to college and completed her teacher training. She taught at the local school for many years and also became engrossed in the history of East Peckham as well as in genealogy.
Margaret Lawrence made a very considerable contribution to the KAS ever since
OBITUARIES
she and her husband joined in 1974. She became membership secretary in 1983 and stayed in the post until 2001. Even after that she was a valuable member of Council until 2006. She initiated the setting up of the East Peckham Historical Society which is still thriving. She wrote many informative books which were thoroughly researched and very readable. East Peckham and its environs must be one of the best recorded parts of Kent thanks to Margaret’s sterling efforts as this listing of her well-reviewed works amply demonstrates:
Through This Door. St Michael’s Church, East Peckham (1974).
Peckham Pupils. The Development of Education in a Kentish Village (1979).
The New Church. Holy Trinity Church, East Peckham 1840 Onwards (1988).
‘The Families and House of Oxenhoath, West Peckham’, Archaeologia Cantiana
(1993).
The Bridge over the Stream. The History of the Parish Council 1894-1994 (1997).
The Encircling Hop. A History of the Brewing Industry (1994, concentrating on Bel- tring Farm, Paddock Wood).
For All the Saints St Michael’s Church East Peckham Parish and People (2004).
The Life they left behind (personal details of men and women of East Peckham who died in the two world wars) (2014).
She always thoroughly enjoyed organizing social events including many unfor- gettable Christmas socials which combined her love of early choral music along with the social aspects of being able to meet and chat with fellow members. Her amazing sense of humour combined with patient kindness and care were other attractive aspects of her personality that we shall all miss.
mike clinch 1933-2021
shiela broomfield
With Mike Clinch’s passing the society has lost a long-standing, stalwart member who remained active right up to his death in May 2021, aged 88. After finishing his secondary education at Dartford Grammar School and before he commenced a career in education he spent his National Service years at Britain’s premier night fighter station, RAF West Malling, where he was trained as a radar technician.
He started his working life as a primary school teacher but later went into special education and eventually became the head of a school for autistic children. He was an advisor for Educational Technology and was very involved in introducing computers into schools. His final job before early retirement was Director of Support Services for Teacher in-Service Training for the Inner London Education Authority.
Mike became actively involved in archaeology following writing a dissertation on ‘Settlement in the Cray Valley’ when, in 1954, he met KAS members Peter Tester and John Caiger and was encouraged to join the Society. He dug with Peter and John on many excavations in north-west Kent including sites in Joydens Wood, Bexley and the Roman villa at Cobham. He helped with an excavation on the site of Blendon Hall in Bexley, opening up the very cramped dry area there and encouraging others to follow. Thereafter, he was a regular supporter of the extensive work at Blendon between 2006 and 2015.
Mike Clinch became a trustee of the KAS in 2008 and was elected a Vice President
OBITUARIES
in 2014, a position he held until his death. He served on several committees including the Allen Grove History Fund and the Finance Committee. In 2006 he joined the newly formed KAS Historic Buildings Committee, serving from the outset as secretary, a task undertaken in his characteristic quiet and capable way. He similarly served as secretary of the Industrial Archaeology Committee and organised several successful conferences for the society.
His main interests were mining archaeology and underground features and he had been a fully active member of the affiliated society, the Kent Underground Research Group, for over 30 years. Mike was KURG’s Hon. Secretary and Newsletter Editor from 1997 to 2011 and was a much-valued trustee of the group. When KURG decided to become a Charitable Incorporated Organisation, Mike cheerfully took on the job of dealing with the Charities Commission and the mountain of paperwork involved. He gave many talks on Kent’s underground features and was a popular and entertaining speaker.
Despite surviving a bad bout of legionnaire’s disease in the past and battling leukaemia Mike always undertook his site work with great enthusiasm and energy which put many younger members to shame. He was a kind, gentle person who was always willing to share his considerable experience and knowledge.
Mike sadly succumbed to a tumour in his throat and, tragically, his wife Margaret died shortly after. Their funeral service was held at Christchurch, Bexleyheath, on 8th June and a number of KURG and KAS members attended including KAS Patron, Countess Sondes. He will be greatly missed by all KAS and KURG members that knew him.
ernest walter black, m.a., f.s.a.
rod legear
Ernest Black, who died in 2021, made significant contributions to the study of a wide range of aspects of Roman Britain and Roman Kent. Although he never lived in Kent he was a member of the Kent Archaeological Society (from 1982) and studied the Roman archaeology of the county in detail, undertook primary research regarding some of the tile finds from Canterbury, East Wear Bay and Brabourne, and published widely about various sites and topics.
Ernest was born in 1951 at West Ham, London. After leaving school he studied for a degree in Classics and Ancient History at Wadham College, Oxford. Subsequently Ernest studied under Professor Rivet at the University of Keele where he was awarded an m.a. in the History and Archaeology of Roman Britain. After leaving Keele, Ernest decided to teach Classics as a profession and to undertake research into various aspects of Roman Britain in his leisure time. He taught Classical Civilization and Latin at St Mary’s School for Girls in Colchester until his retirement in 2011.
As Ernest had intended, both during and after retiring from teaching, he spent most of his spare time investigating, without excavating, various aspects of Roman Britain, especially in the South-East. He used site reports and other literary sources, and primary sources. The study of Roman tiles was a particular interest, especially relief-patterned (roller-stamped) flue-tiles. His research work was methodical and
OBITUARIES
involved very careful examination of excavation reports and classical sources, and often resulted in posing new questions of the evidence and the production of alternative theories and interpretations, some of which are considered by other scholars as ‘contentious’. Although Ernest was essentially an ‘independent researcher’, he often worked closely with other scholars and archaeological institutions (an example being the Canterbury Archaeological Trust).
Ernest wrote extensively about his discoveries and conclusions and published in various county and national journals, including Archaeologia Cantiana, and conference proceedings. He also produced two important British Archaeological Report volumes, the first in 1987 (BAR BS 171) on The Roman Villas of South- East England, the other in 1995 (BAR BS 241) entitled Cursus Publicus, The infrastructure of government in Roman Britain. Before his last illness, Ernest was undertaking research to enable him to produce a follow-on publication to Cursus Publicus, this being a study of the 2nd-century civilian defences of towns and mansiones along major Roman roads in southern Britain, these being viewed as military supply routes.
Many of Ernest’s early publications were concerned with villas in the South-East and the first of these, published in Archaeologia Cantiana [vol. 97] concerned the Darenth villa, with its long and complex history. The article begins with Ernest’s observations about, and phasing of, the discoveries at the site during two periods of excavations, in 1895 when much of the villa was uncovered by George Payne, and in 1969 when an additional bath-house and an aisled structure were excavated by Brian Philp. The article then presents a detailed consideration of what Ernest, following the site locational system used by George Payne in his report, considered to be the villa’s five Blocks (A-E) of residential buildings. Next is a suggested developmental history, with period plans, of the villa. Finally, he attempted to explore the functional elements and social organisation of the villa.
Ernest published in 1987 a major review and catalogue with maps and many plans of the then known villas in South-East England (Kent, Surrey, Sussex and eastern Hampshire), and this volume remains an important text for researchers of villas in the region. ‘The Villa List’, near the end of the book, refers to 82 sites in Kent and provides source information, comments and sometimes locations shown on various distribution maps in the book. Previous chapters in the book include six which review the emergence and development of villas in the region, followed by 15 appendices providing specific information and ideas concerning individual sites (Kent examples including a ‘very tentative suggestion that there may have been a horizontal water-mill in the aisled building at the Darenth villa, and the bath- building at Hartlip) or topics, such as ‘corn-driers’.
Ernest’s research concerning the development and dating of villas and bath- houses resulted in him becoming involved in the recording and interpretation of relief-patterned (roller-stamped) flue tiles and hypocaust heating systems. He became an authority on relief-patterned and other flue-tiles and produced specialist reports for various large excavations at Colchester and that at the Marlowe Car Park site in Canterbury. He was also one of three contributors (the others being Ian Betts and John Gower) who produced in 1994 A Corpus of Relief-Patterned Tiles in Roman Britain. Although this volume now needs some updating, it remains the standard reference work about such tiles. As recently as 2019-20 Ernest undertook
OBITUARIES
the recording of the large quantities of flue-tiles recovered during the excavations of the villa at East Wear Bay, Folkestone. In addition, in the absence of any project funding to record the large amount of other Roman tile found at the Folkestone villa, Ernest provided out of his savings the necessary funding needed to complete this work (this task is being undertaken by Susan Pringle on behalf of the CAT).
Perhaps fittingly, Ernest’s final publication (2020) also involved Roman tile. This was a report published in Archaeologia Cantiana [vol. 141] about an excavated, but unpublished and ‘lost’ and forgotten tile kiln at Brabourne in south-east Kent. In 1983 Ernest visited the excavations directed by the late Jim Bradshaw. Ernest’s report is the result of a great piece of detective work and demonstrates both his determination to solve a mystery (i.e. to re-locate the kiln) and ability to produce a useful report in very difficult circumstances which included the loss of most of the finds and all the site records and any drawings! Fortunately, some photographs taken by Mr Eddie Garrett of the kiln and the more interesting finds (such as the coins) are still in existence.
Ernest’s classical training at university provided him with the knowledge and skills to make contributions to discussions about the invasions of Britain by Caesar and by Claudius. With regards to Caesar’s campaigns, Ernest wrote mainly about the invasion of 54 b.c. The first part of this paper concerns Kent and includes the landing, the naval camp, the subsequent march to an encounter with the Britons at a river, the capture of a fortified position, the construction of a fortified Roman camp, and the crossing of the Thames. Ernest discusses both the traditionally identified sites (such as the Great Stour river and Bigbury hillfort) for these happenings, but also makes some other suggestions based on Caesar’s estimates of the distances involved.
With respect to the Claudian invasion of a.d. 43, Ernest contributed much more. However, several of his theories and suggestions are considered by some to be controversial. Thus in a paper in Practical Archaeology (2002) providing a synthesis of his views regarding the ‘Conquest’, Ernest states that Aulus Plautius’ force ‘must have landed on the coast of Sussex, since access to the Dobunni from here would be possible whereas it would not be for an army advancing through Kent’. He acknowledges however that another landing-place in a.d. 43 was ‘almost certainly at Richborough’. He argues that this Kent landing may have been led by Sentius Saturninus whose main task will have been to prepare for the arrival of Claudius. Thus, with reference to the writings of the 4th-century historian Eutropius, Ernest raises the interesting possibility that the invasion of Britain in a.d. 43 had not one but two commanders. Ernest questioned the number of defended river crossings that Plautius had to deal with and concludes that the two river battles that are often quoted, one on either the Arun or the Medway, the other at the Thames, may ‘represent two accounts of the same battle [i.e. on the Thames] taken from two different sources.
Two aspects of Roman Britain of particular interest to Ernest were native burial customs and religious beliefs. With regards to burials, he published in the Archaeological Journal (1986) a regional paper which describes and discusses local customs from the Iron Age to the end of the Roman period, many examples coming from Kent. Similarly, with respect to religious beliefs, Ernest’s major contribution from a Kent perspective was a conference paper on ‘Pagan religion in
OBITUARIES
rural South-East Britain: contexts, deities and belief’ which was published in 2008 in a volume edited by the writer.
Another of Ernest’s long-term research interests were aspects of government in Roman Britain. His first venture into such matters was a paper he published in 1984 in the Oxford Journal of Archaeology which compares the British routes of the Antonine Itinerary against the literary sources for the campaigns of Severus in 208-211. It also examines the possible role of mansiones with the collection of taxes in kind, Ernest ‘tentatively’ suggesting that such taxation may have been levied throughout the Roman period in Britain. Within a decade Ernest had considerably expanded his research regarding mansiones and published Cursus Publicus, The infrastructure of government in Roman Britain (1995). This well illustrated book provides a thorough treatment of mansio sites in Britain (Richborough and Dover are two Kent examples which are discussed in some detail). In the last few years before his death, Ernest had again turned his attention to the study of mansiones, this time with particular regard to 2nd-century defences associated with these and other civilian sites.
In addition to his own important achievements, Ernest was very generous with his knowledge, help and encouragement, always given with humility. He will be much missed, and we have lost an important scholar of Roman Britain who contributed much to our understanding of various aspects of Roman Kent.
david rudling
[The full version of this appreciation of Ernest Black’s researches is published on the KAS website.]
NOTES ON THE CONTRIBUTORS
Margaret Bolton: is a freelance researcher specialising in early modern demographics and epidemiology. She is currently working on a life of Anne Boleyn.
Stephen Clifton, m.a.: is currently the archaeological director of the Maidstone Area Archaeological Group (MAAG) and also a trustee of the Kent Archaeological Society. He worked from 2003 to 2005 as a field archaeologist for the Trust for Thanet Archaeology. In 2020 he completed an m.a. in archaeology at the University of Kent, achieving a distinction, and his dissertation was awarded the KAS Thirsk prize. He started his ph.d. at the end of 2020, researching Roman and Late Iron Age religious sites.
Jacqueline Davies: is a social scientist in the School of Health Sciences, City University, London, where she has taught life course studies and written about health risks. She has degrees in history, psychology and social science research methods. Since 2017 collaborated in the U3A project on the Greenwich hearth tax, initiated by the Centre for Hearth Tax Research, University of Roehampton.
Gillian Draper, ph.d., f.s.a, f.r.hist.s.: is a Visiting Research Fellow at Canterbury Christ Church University and an Associate Lecturer at the University of Kent. She researches and publishes on the history of Kent and Sussex from about ad 800 to 1550, and has just completed an article on the tomb of Sir John Fogge and its brasses in Ashford church for the Monumental Brass Society, and a paper for the summer seminar of the Medieval Settlement Research Group on ‘Coastal settlement and landscape: exploring relationships between land and sea’. She is just starting research on the supply of fruit to London from Kent in the fourteenth century and its sale and distribution there. Many of her publications are available on: https://kent.academia.edu/GillianDraper.
Stephen Draper, m.a., c.eng.: graduated in Natural Sciences, Cambridge, 1974. Keen participant in the Knole volunteer research groups, this paper started as a talk prepared during lockdown. Married to Gillian, a historian (q.v), with whom there have been many fruitful discussions on history and palaeography. A stock of photos of archive documents about Knole awaits future analysis.
Erica Gittins, b.a., m.st.: is a lithics specialist, excavation analyst and prehistorian. Margetts Pit is one of a series of investigations in Kent that she is bringing to publication. Others include Mesolithic, Neolithic and Iron Age sites at Ashford.
Pete Knowles, b.sc.(hons): is a Palaeolithic archaeologist and ph.d. researcher at Durham University, studying whether the varying types of Palaeolithic handaxes are evidence of different cultures in early humans. This work involves the reassessment of museum collections, to improve the provenance of historic collections of Palaeolithic material; he uses a novel 3D photogrammetric process to analyse the handaxes. He is also the volunteer curator of the lithics collection at the Seaside Museum, Herne Bay, volunteer archivist and social media adviser for the Herne Bay Historical Record Society, and also works
CONTRIBUTORS
part-time in archaeology as a field archaeologist and a consultant for lithics and specialist Palaeolithic archaeological work.
Avril Leach, b.sc.(hons), m.a., ph.d.: is an independent researcher. Her doctoral studies at the University of Kent concerned institutional culture within Canterbury and Maidstone borough corporations in the seventeenth century. Her current research projects include study of first edition copies of William Somner’s Antiquities of Canterbury, and early modern maps of Canterbury.
David Lepine: is a historian of the late medieval Church with a particular interest in secular cathedrals, the higher clergy and commemoration. He is Hon. Editor of the Transactions of the Monumental Brass Society.
Keith Parfitt, b.a., f.s.a., m.c.i.f.a: Hons degree in British Archaeology at University College, Cardiff, 1978. Subsequently joined KARU, working on a variety of excavations across Kent and S.E. London; spent several years writing-up Keston Roman villa. Moved to Canterbury Archaeological Trust in 1990 and worked on the Dover A20 project which culminated in discovery of the Bronze Age Boat in 1992; and on Buckland Anglo-Saxon cemetery in 1994 and Townwall Street, Dover, in 1996. Acted as Director for KAS excavations at Minster, 2002-2004. Worked in collaboration with the British Museum in excavating and publishing the complex Bronze Age barrow site at Ringlemere, 2002-2006. Supervised excavations at East Wear Bay Roman villa, Folkestone, 2010-2011. Presently writing-up major excavations in Dover town centre. Running parallel with full-time career, Director of Excavations for amateur Dover Archaeological Group since 1978. Elected Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries of London in 2000.
Patricia Reid, ph.d.: first encountered archaeology at the Institute of Archaeology, London, as part of her initial degree in Anthropology at the London School of Economics. After early retirement in 1994, became heavily involved with the Sedgeford project in Norfolk from which stems her interest in the Anglo Saxons: from 1998 to 2004 undertook a research m.a. and then ph.d. at University College, London. In 2005, founded the Faversham Society Community Archaeology Group which thrives to this day.
Keith Robinson, b.a.(hons): is a native of north Kent, a founding member of the Faversham Society Archaeological Research Group, a Trustee of the Friends of Milton Regis Court Hall and a member of the KAS Kent Marshes Group. His major interest is in the north Kent marshes specifically Kentish duck decoys, the history of Milton Regis and the life and times of Milton naturalist, artist and writer Denham Jordan – ‘A Son of the Marshes’. His most recent publication was of the North Kent Marshes with Ian Jackson in 2015.
Peter Slaughter, b.sc., m.sc., m.c.i.h.t.: after retirement studied Environmental Arch- aeology at the University of Reading, receiving m.sc. degree in 2019. Particularly interested in Britain’s prehistory and changing landscape. Since 2009 recording (on a voluntary basis) archaeological and palaeontological finds uncovered by erosion at Swalecliffe and other locations.
Sheila Sweetinburgh, ph.d.: is a lecturer in Medieval and Early Modern Studies and Co-Director of the Centre for Kent History and Heritage at Canterbury Christ Church University, as well as a Specialist Associate Lecturer at the University of Kent. She has published The Role of the Hospital in Medieval England: Gift-giving and the Spiritual Economy (2004), and four edited collections, including most recently, with Elizabeth Edwards and Stuart Bligh, Maritime Kent through the Ages (2021). Additionally, she has published numerous articles on medieval and Tudor Kent deploying an interdisciplinary
CONTRIBUTORS
approach to explore a wide range of topics. She is currently working with Craig Lambert (University of Southampton) on a funded project entitled ‘Kent’s maritime communities and their European neighbours: connections and relations across the Narrow Seas, c.1350-c.1600’.
Tim van Tongeren, ph.d.: recently obtained his ph.d. in early medieval archaeology from Canterbury Christ Church University. His main research interests are cross-North Sea contact between Britain and continental Europe, the process of Christianisation, development of ecclesiastical sites and the material culture of the Anglo-Saxons, Merovingians and Frisians. He created the first holistic artefact typology and chronology for the early medieval Netherlands and intends to use this work for a large-scale comparative study of material culture and burial ritual in the Low Countries and south-eastern England.
Stephen Williamson, m.a.(cantab.): was brought up in Canterbury where his branch of the Williamson family has lived for at least 300 years. He moved away to work in industry but returns to Canterbury regularly, and his family’s roots there have incentivised him to explore the City’s post medieval history.
Eleanor Wilson, b.a., m.a.: studied History of Art at the University of Bristol and the Courtauld Institute of Art, specialising in the art and architecture of Medieval England. She is currently an AHRC funded White Rose scholar at the University of York. Her ph.d. project investigates the materiality of globalism in Medieval and Early Modern London focussing on the patronage of the Livery Companies.
Rita Wood: her interest in the Gateway was sparked by the challenge of the unsolved six medallions, not by any particular focus on Kent, though a capital in the cathedral crypt, and the doorway at St Margaret-at-Cliffe have drawn her attention in the past. Most of her fieldwork for CRSBI has been done in Yorkshire, and she has published Romanesque Yorkshire, and more recently Paradise: the World of Romanesque Sculpture. No relevant degree; web-site www.rwromanesque.co.uk
Michael Zell: has been an historian of early modern Kent since the 1970s, first contributing to Archaeologia Cantiana in 1977 (vol. xciii). Before his retirement he taught at the University of Greenwich. His book, Industry in the Countryside: Wealden Society in the 16th Century, appeared in 1994, and his Early Modern Kent, 1540-1640, part of the Kent History Project, came out in 2000. Since 2017 collaborated in the U3A project on the Greenwich hearth tax, initiated by the Centre for Hearth Tax Research, University of Roehampton.
GENERAL INDEX
Illustrations are denoted by page numbers in italics or by illus where figures are scattered throughout the text. The letter n following a page number indicates that the reference will be found in a note.
The following abbreviations have been used in this index: aka – also known as; C – century; Cambs – Cambridgeshire; Capt – Captain; Ches – Cheshire; d. ‒ died; jnr – junior;
Leics – Leicestershire; Lincs – Lincolnshire; Notts – Nottinghamshire; Oxon – Oxfordshire;
SFB – sunken-featured building; snr – senior; Wilts – Wiltshire.
abbeys and religious houses see Bayham; Boxley; Brockley under Lewisham; Canterbury (cathedral priory; St Augustine; St Gregory; St Sepulchre); Faversham; Forest Hill under Lewisham; Limoges; Lyminge; Otham; Reculver
Abbot, George, Archbishop of Canterbury 199 Adams, John 227n39
adze see axe/adze
Agelnoth, Archbishop of Canterbury 209
Ahmet, Jo, 50 Finds from Kent: Objects from the Portable Antiquities Scheme, reviewed 339–40
Albright, Gerard 49n39 Aldey, Edward 207
Allen, Tim see Knowles, Pete, & Allen, Tim
Alman, John 37
Alphege, St, Archbishop of Canterbury 210 Amberton family 252
Ambrose family 252
amulet, Romano-British 149
anchorite 232, 237, 238, 239–41
Anglo-Saxon Chronicle 51
animal bone
Bronze Age 311, 317
Iron Age 322, 325
Iron Age/Romano-British 324
Anglo-Saxon 64–5, 64, 71, 75 antler fragments, Romano-British 149 Appulby, Simon 238
Arlington, Lord see Bennet, Henry
armlets, mudstone, late prehistoric 307–8, 308,
313
arrowheads, Neolithic 65
Ash, Cop Street, Anglo-Saxon cemetery 98 Ashburnham family 262, 266
Roger 262
Thomas 262, 263
Aubrey, John 294
Augustine, St 188, 195
awls, late prehistoric 310, 311
axe/adze, Mesolithic 21, 26–7, 30
axes
Neolithic
Burham, Margetts Pit 305
Ringlemere 4 Bronze Age
Burham, Margetts Pit 310–11 Ringlemere 28, 29
Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury 210 Banks, Revd John 256n4
Barber
John 253
Thomas 253
Barming, Romano-British villa 130, 147, 155 Barr, Mrs ‒ 158
barracks, C18 329
Bathon
Frances 295 Grace 303n16 John 303n16
Battely
John 205
Revd Nicholas 192, 205–6 Bax, John and wife 234 Bayham Abbey
charter relating to 177
plaque
attribution to Limoges 160–3 background and description (illus) 158–9 discussion 174–5
early vermiculé enamels listed 176 iconographic study (illus) 164–71 proposed provenance 171–4, 174 trade with Limoges 163–4
beads
Bronze Age
amber 307, 310
lead 311
GENERAL INDEX
beads (cont.) prehistoric
amber 330
faience 330
glass 330
jet/shale 330
late prehistoric, mudstone 307 Romano-British 312
Anglo-Saxon
amethyst 102, 105, 110, 115, 116, 117
glass
Faversham 65–6, 66
Updown 102, 105, 110, 111, 112–14,
115, 116
not specified 22, 108–9
Beaufort
Edmund, Duke of Somerset 229
Cardinal Henry, Bishop of Winchester 229, 231, 234
John, Duke of Bedford 234 Becher, Walter 265 Beckenham see under Bromley Bedbury
Anne 89
Charles 89
Henry 89
Henry jnr 89
Rose 89
Bede 197
Bedford, Duke of see Beaufort, John
Bee, Cornelius 207
Bekesbourne-with-Patrixbourne, Bekesbourne
clergy 192
Lackenden chantry 210 Bele, John 273n31
belt fittings, Anglo-Saxon 102
benches, stone, Romano-British 143, 144 Bennet, Henry, Lord Arlington 81 Bennett, Benedict 253
Beowulf 51
Best
John 221
Thomas 221
Betts, Phil, ‘An obscure and inconsiderable parish’: A History of Frittenden, reviewed 338–9
Bexley (London Borough), Burt’s Wharf, geo- archaeology 328
Biddenden, migration 37 Biddulph, Sir Theophilus 81–82 Bingham, John 210
Birchington, protestation oath, 1642 age 249
missing men 252, 253, 254, 255, 256
occupations 249
taking 247, 248
Black, Ernest Walker, obituary 356–9 Blackheath see under Lewisham Blair, John 51
Blakbrok, John 50n52
Blanning, Elizabeth, book review by 332–5
Bligh, Stuart, Edwards, Elizabeth, & Sweetinburgh,
Sheila (eds), Maritime Kent Through the Ages:
Gateway to the Sea, reviewed 336–7 bloomery, Romano-British/Anglo-Saxon 58–61,
61, 67–8
Bokengham, Thomas 44
Bolle, William 242
Bolton, Margaret, ‘The Isle of Thanet and the
1642 Protestation Oath’ 247–57
Bonaunter, John 242
bookbinders 46
Bore, John 265
Boreman
George 81
Sir William 81, 82
Bornem (Belgium), duck decoy 215 Borough Fen (Cambs), Williams family 218
Bourchier, Thomas, Archbishop of Canterbury
Knole
acquisition of 125–7
deer park 268
indenture 258–61, 262
Knole estate 262–5, 263, 264, 270
quarries and ragstone 266, 267 tenants and properties 265–6 works at 266–7, 268
register 242
will 268, 269
boxes, cylindrical, Anglo-Saxon 102, 105
Boxley Abbey 231
bracelets, Romano-British 149; see also armlets
brasses, memorial, Faversham 228, 230, 232–9,
233, 235, 237, 243
Brasted, clergy 239
Bray, William 205
Brent, Sir Nathaniel 196, 205 Brereton, Sir William 218, 226n5 Bridge, Bridge Hill 192 Broadstairs and St Peter’s
Northwood 254
St Peter, protestation oath, 1642 247, 248, 249,
253, 254, 255
Broke, James 48n14
Bromley (London Borough), Beckenham, Langley Court, monitoring 327
brooches
Iron Age 31
Anglo-Saxon 22, 102, 110, 115
Brook, migration 37
Broomfield, Shiela, on Margaret Lawrence 354– 5; see also Mortlock, Patricia, & Broomfield, Shiela
Bruncker, Lord 82
Brymston, John 272n30, 273n31
buckles, Anglo-Saxon 102, 105, 110, 111, 112,
114–15
GENERAL INDEX
Burgess, Samuel 253
Burgeys
Anne (née Martyn) 232 Thomas 232
Burham, Margetts Pit, excavations background and location 305 discussion 312–13
excavation evidence 306
early prehistory 305 middle‒late Bronze Age 307
later prehistoric and stone working 307–11,
308, 309
late Iron Age‒early Roman 311–12 Anglo-Saxon 312
burials see cemeteries; cremations; inhumations;
lamb burial
Cade, Jack, rebellion 121, 123–5, 126, 229 Cambridge (Cambs)
Trinity College 301
Trinity Hall 197
Camden, William 197
canal, Gravesend 328–9
Canney Marsh (Essex), duck decoys 217–18 cannon, C18 329
Canterbury
Archbishop’s Palace 195 Barton and Jesus hospital 194 Best Lane 292
Binnewith island 210
Bridewell 195
Burgate ward 41, 45, 46, 47, 195
Castle Street 195, 198 cathedral
canon of 205
Somner on 190–1, 193, 195, 196–8, 199,
202–3, 208
cathedral priory
building programme 35–6
Green Court gateway sculpture 181–9, 182,
184
possessions 36, 44
Somner on 195, 198, 208, 209, 210
Charles II at 190, 203, 208 Cheker of Hope 44 churches
All Saints 292
Holy Cross 210
St Alphege 210
St Dunstan 199, 210
St Margaret 209
St Martin 194
St Mary Northgate 210 St Paul 210
Somner on 202
city walls 199, 202
cloth industry, medieval 41–4 Cotton’s hospital 195
le Croune 50n55 Dane John 195
Eastbridge hospital 195
chantry 209
school 292
The Exchange 195
gaol 199
Gray family 292
Guildhall 195
High Street, conduit 199
House of the Black Prince’s chantry priests 195
House of the Templars 195 immigration, medieval 37, 46
inns, medieval 35, 44
The Jury 195
King’s School 209
leather industry, medieval 41 Long-port 194
The Lyon 49n23
market place (Bullstake) 45, 195
Marlowe car park, SFB 68, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75
Maynard’s Spittal 195
migration, medieval 35–41, 47
businesses, locating 44–6 households and families 46–7 trades and crafts 41–4
The Mint 195
The Mote 194
Newingate ward 36, 40, 44, 45, 46, 47, 195
Northgate ward 38, 41, 45, 47, 195
Oaten Hill 47
plague 38
Poor Priest’s hospital 195, 209
Queningate 194, 199
Rhodaus Town, boreholes 331 Ridingate 199
Ridingate ward 36, 45, 195
River Stour 202
St Augustine’s Abbey 197, 202, 203, 209, 210,
231
St Gregory’s Priory 194, 208 St James/Jacob’s hospital 194 St John’s hospital 194
St John’s Lane 195
St Lawrence’s hospital 194
St Nicholas at Herbaldown hospital 194 St Paul’s parish 299
St Sepulchre’s Nunnery 194 see of 268–9, 270
Stablegate 195
Westgate 195, 199
Westgate Street 194
Westgate ward 45, 46, 195
Worthgate 194
Worthgate ward 40, 41‒4, 45, 195
see also Somner, William, The Antiquities of Canterbury
GENERAL INDEX
Canterbury, archbishops of 195; see also Abbot, George; Agelnoth; Alphege; Augustine; Baldwin; Bourchier, Thomas; Chichele, Henry; Dunstan; Hubert, Walter; Langton, Stephen; Laud, William; Mellitus; Morton, John; Stafford, John; Tillotson, John; Warham, William; Wilfred; Winchelsey, Robert
Caper, John 252
Carpenter, John 44
carpenter’s marks 329
Carter (Cartier), John 259, 261, 266
Casaubon, Meric 197, 205, 207, 253
Cassini, Giovanni 297 Catton, Edmund 256n4 cemeteries
Bronze Age
Burham, Margetts Pit 307 Ringlemere 1, 3, 5–6, 6
Anglo-Saxon
Ash, Cop Street 98 Buckland 101, 112, 116 Deal, Mill Hill 101
Faversham, Kingsfield 52, 66
Finglesham 100, 117
Guilton 98
Ham 94, 98
Lyminge 70
Ringlemere 5, 22, 31, 98
Updown see Updown
ceramic building material, Romano-British Burham, Margetts Pit 312
East Farleigh 140, 148, 155
Chalklin, Christopher W., obituary 353–4 Chambers, William snr and jnr 256n5 chantries
Bayham 173
Bekesbourne 210
Canterbury 195, 209
Harbledown 208
Chapman
Roger 254
William 224 charcoal
Neolithic 305
Iron Age 322, 325
Iron Age/Romano-British 322–4
Anglo-Saxon 62
Charles I 207, 208
Charles II
Greenwich 80–1
St James’s Park decoy 217, 218
Somner and 190, 203, 204, 208
Chartham
fossils 295, 296
migration 37, 252
chatelaines, Anglo-Saxon 112–14, 117
Chatham, Kitchener Barracks, watching brief 329 Chaundler, John 239
Cheriton, clergy 239
Chester, Bishop of see Wilkins, John
Chichele, Henry, Archbishop of Canterbury 238 Chiddingstone, Bourchier properties 266, 268
chisel, Anglo-Saxon 65
Chislet
clergy 231, 241
Fowler’s Bridge 222
Fowler’s Drove 222
Gray’s Farm, duck decoy 222 migration 37
Christian symbolism, Anglo-Saxon 105 Christmas, John 197
Clay, Rotha Mary 243
cleat, Bronze Age 317–19, 318
Clerk, John 272n30
Clerke
Mrs ‒ 82
Richard 41, 82
Cliffe, Lower Hope Point explosives works, monitoring 329
Clifton, Stephen, ‘The Complex of Roman Buildings Excavated by MAAG at East Farleigh, 2005‒17: an Interim Report’ 129–57
Clinch, Mike, obituary 355–6 cloth industry, medieval 41–4 Cock, Capt George 81, 82
coin hoard, Roman 140, 148, 149 coins
Iron Age 131, 148
Roman 142, 146, 148
Collingbourne Valence (Wilts), manor 229 comb, Anglo-Saxon 65, 66, 67, 73
Cooch, John 217–18
Coppin
Revd Josiah 253 William 256n4
corn-dryers, Romano-British 136, 136, 145, 151,
153
Cornbeck, John van 37
Cosh, Stephen R. see Stoodley, Nick, & Cosh,
Stephen R.
Cotes, Roger 292, 301
Cottle, Mark 81
Couch, Nicholas 86
cowrie shells, Anglo-Saxon 104–5 Cox, William 221
Cranbrook, John 252 cremations
Bronze Age 307
prehistoric 330
late prehistoric 310
early Romano-British 131, 133
Crispe, Henry 222 Crowthorn manor 127n6 Culling, Thomas 256n4 Culmer
George 256n4
GENERAL INDEX
Culmer (cont.) Guildford 256n4 Henry 256n4
Richard 202–3, 207–8, 253
Curling
John 256n4, 256n5 William 256n4
curse, Romano-British 140, 149, 150
Curtis and Harvey Ltd 329
Dadd, Richard 254
Daniels, Albert, obituary 352–3 daub, Anglo-Saxon 62–3, 64
Davies, Jacqueline see Zell, Michael, & Davies, Jacqueline
Dawson
Barbara 207
John 207
Deal, Mill Hill Anglo-Saxon cemetery 101 Dedrickisson, Walter 37
deer park, Knole 123, 125, 127n11, 268
defixio, Romano-British 140, 149, 150
Denne, Thomas 207 Deptford see under Lewisham Desaguliers, John 301, 302
Dezmarez, J.P. 223
DNA analysis, Burham 307 Dodd, Ralph 329
Doucheman, John 37
Dover
Buckland Anglo-Saxon cemetery 101, 112, 116
Great Hall 75
migration 37
SFB 68, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75
Draper
Gillian, ‘Knole House, Jack Cade and the ‘Battle of Solefields’’ 121–8
Stephen, ‘What Archbishop Bourchier Acquired in his 1456 Knole Transaction’ 258–73
Drylond, Robert 273n37 Duchewoman, Jenetruda 37 duck decoys
discussion 225
gazetteer for Kent 218–24, 219, 220, 222
history and description 215–18, 216, 217
peak and decline of 224–5 Dugdale, Sir William 197, 207 Dunkin, Revd William 253
Dunstan, St, Archbishop of Canterbury 209 Duraunt, William 272n30
Durham, Bishop of see Langley, Thomas
East Farleigh, Romano-British ‘villa’, excavations background and location 129–31, 130, 131
discussion 154, 155
building function 147–8 orientation and location 151 ovens and temples 151–3, 152
excavation evidence Iron Age 131–3, 132
Roman (illus) 133–46
late Roman 146–7
finds 148–51, 150
Eastchurch, clergy 231
Eastry
Anglo-Saxon evidence 94, 95, 98, 100
Eastry 1 94, 98
Eastry 2 (Thornton) 94
Eastry 3 (Updown) see Updown Highborough Hill, cemetery 94, 98 Updown cemetery see Updown
see also Ham Edmer 197
Edward IV 126
Edwards, Elizabeth, book review by 338–9; see also Bligh, Stuart, Edwards, Elizabeth, & Sweetinburgh, Sheila (eds)
Elmham, Thomas 197
Elsy, Roger 265
Emptage
Daniel 256n4 Edward 256n4 John 256n4
enclosure, late Iron Age 312 L’Estrange, Roger 89
Ethelburh, St 70
Evelyn, John 80, 217
exedre, Romano-British 143, 144 Exeter (Devon), migration 35 Eythorne, clergy 231
Falowfelde, John 44 Faversham
abbey 53, 221, 230
Abbey Street 53
Bull Inn 53
church, Anglo-Saxon 53 church of St Mary
anchorite? 239–43
bells 231
brass 228, 232–9, 233, 235, 237, 243
churchyard chapels 241–2 Thornbury, William, at 231–2 window, Thornbury arms 230, 230
clergy see Thornbury, William
Cooksditch 53
Cooksditch House 76
Gate Field 57
Gatefield Lane, finds 53, 54
Iron Wharf 53
Kingsfield, Anglo-Saxon finds 52, 66
Macknades manor 53
manor, royal 53, 75 Market Inn site 51
compared 68–74, 69, 70
discussion 67–8, 74–6
GENERAL INDEX
Faversham (cont.) Market Inn site (cont.)
excavation evidence (illus) 57–61 finds 59, 61–6, 63, 64, 66
phasing 67
setting 53–7, 56, 57
market place, Anglo-Saxon 53 Middle Row 232
migration 37
Norton Court 302
Perry Court, SFB 68, 70, 71–2, 73, 74, 75
place-name 52
settlement evidence, Anglo-Saxon 52–3, 55; see also Market Inn site
Stonebridge 53
Tanners Street 53
Thornbury family 228–9
villa, Romano-British 53
West Street 53
Westbrook 53
Yeldhall 53
Faversham Society Archaeological Research Group 52–3
Fellere, John 37
Ferrers, Lady 239
field system, Bronze Age 308
Fiennes
James, Lord Say and Sele 121–3, 124, 125,
261, 264–5, 266, 270
William, Lord Say and Sele 125, 258, 259–61,
265, 270
figurine fragments, Romano-British 149 Finch see Fynche
finger rings, Romano-British 149 Finglesham, Anglo-Saxon cemetery 100, 117 ‘fish route’ (Rye-London) 123
fish trap, Bronze Age 319
Fisher
Baldwin 265
Thomas, drawing by 234, 235 Fiskney (Lincs), Skelton family 218 Flamsteed, John 296–7, 300, 301 flint
Palaeolithic, Ringlemere 21, 26, 30 Mesolithic
Faversham 65
Ramsgate
assemblage 279–80
condition 280
description 282–8, 282, 283–4, 288
discussion 288–90
origin 281, 281
raw material 280
Ringlemere 21, 26–7, 30 Neolithic
Burham, Margetts Pit 305 Faversham 65
Ringlemere 4, 27
Bronze Age
Burham, Margetts Pit 308, 309–10
Ringlemere 27–8
prehistoric, Ringlemere 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 21,
25–6
flint-knapping site see Ramsgate, Court Stairs Fogge
Sir John 239
Thomas 239
Fordwich, quay 209
Forest Hill see under Lewisham
fossils, East Farleigh 149
four-post structure, Iron Age 312 Franks, Mr ‒ 158
French, John 265
Frenche, Robert 265
Fulborne John 46
Nicholas 46
William 46
Fynche, Thomas 45
Gardiner, Vince, Thomas, Karen, Francese, Cecilia Levratto, Rivoli, Annalisa, ‘Fieldwork in Kent Undertaken by MOLA 2019‒20: Summary Reports’ 326–31
Gascoyne, William 224, 225 Gaynesford, Nicholas 272n30, 273n31 Gerardsson, Isbrand 37
Gibbs, William 52
Giles, John 254
Gillham, Eric 221, 223
Gillingham
Grange, Liberty of 223 Grange manor 128n30
Nor Marsh, duck decoy 223–4
Gittins, Erica, ‘Excavations at Margetts Pit, Burham: Large-Scale Manufacture of Arte- facts in Late Bronze Age/Early Iron Age’ 305–14
Glanvill, Benjamin 82
glass vessels, Anglo-Saxon 52; see also palm
cup
Goacher, Deborah, on Albert Daniels 352–3 Godbid, William 206
Godfrey, John 302
Godfrey-Faussett, Thomas 239–41, 243
Golding, Reuben 86
Goldsmith, Hugh 45 Goldston, Thomas, Prior 209 Goldwell, Thomas, Prior 195 Goodnestone
Langedon 231
Thornbury properties 229
Goodwin, John 254
Gostling, William 193
Goudhurst, migration 37
Gowere, Isabella 37
GENERAL INDEX
Graveney
Kye Cottage 221
Nagden Marsh, duck decoy 221, 223 Gravesend, Canal Basin Floodgate, watching
brief 328–9
Gray
John 292
John jnr 301
Matthias 292
Matthias jnr 292, 295
Stephen 292–302
Thomas 292
Greenborough island 223 Greenwich (London Borough)
Billingsgate 88
church of St Alphege 81 Church Wall 88
Coombe Farm 82, 87
Crane South 81, 82, 88
Crooms Hill 81, 87, 88
Dock and Tavern Row 82, 86, 88
East Lane 86, 87, 88
Fisher Lane 87–8
Great Plague, 1665‒6 78–90, 79, 83, 85, 86,
87
High Street 87, 88, 89
King’s Head 81
King’s palace 80–1, 90
London Street 87, 88
Millennium Village, geoarchaeology 328 Morden Wharf, watching brief 327–8 Navy office 81
pest house 85
Queen’s House 80
Royal Naval Hospital 80–1 Stable Street 88, 92n27 Westcombe manor 81
Woolwich, Pepys family at 81, 82 Gregory the Great, St 188
Gregory, William 37
Grew, Nehemiah 295
Gridier, John 254
Griffin, William 218, 220, 221
Grovehurst family 262
Groves, Robert 221
Guildford
Edward 231
Sir John 230, 231
Philippa (née Thornbury, Pympe, & Tyrell) 230, 231
Guilton, Anglo-Saxon cemetery 98 gunpowder works, Cliffe 329
Hackington, parsonage 210 Hales
Christopher 209
John 208–9
Halley, Edmond 297
Halsham
Anne (née Thorlegh) 229 Sir Hugh 229
Richard 229
Ham, Anglo-Saxon cemetery 94, 98 Hamkyn, Peter van 37
hammer stones, Mesolithic 281, 288
handle see hook/handle
Harbledown chantry 208
Norman family 242
Hare, Robert 197 Hasted
Edward 223, 265
Joseph 223 Headcorn
Headcorn Manor 325
Moat Road, excavations 320–6, 321, 323, 324
hearths, Neolithic 3
Helmesley, John 37
Hennell, Alexander 326
Henry VI 121, 124, 126
Henry, Prior of Canterbury 195 Henry of Huntingdon 197 Heth, Roger 273n31
Hever, manor 121
Heye, Jacob 37 High Halstow
Decoy Farm 222
Little Decoy House 221
Nordowne Farm, duck decoy 221–2, 222, 225 Hilkes (Hilcus)
Elizabeth 218
Sidrack 218 Hill
Francis 303n32 Jared 303n32 Mary 303n32
Thomas 296–301, 302
letter from 300
map by 299
observations by 298
hoard, Bronze Age 28–9, 30–1; see also coin hoard hobnails, Romano-British 58
Hodlestone (Ches), duck decoys 218 Hogben, Thomas 223
Holinshed, Raphael 197
Hollar, Wenceslaus 197 Hollingbourne
Woodcut Farm, evaluation 330–1 workhouse 331
Hoo St Werburgh, Kingsnorth Quarry, finds 330 hook/handle, Anglo-Saxon 65, 66
Hooke, Robert 293–4, 295, 299, 301
Hooker, Alderman William 81, 82 horn cores, Romano-British 149
hospitals, medieval, Canterbury 194, 195, 209 Houton, George 273n37
GENERAL INDEX
Hubert, Walter, Archbishop of Canterbury 210 Hulme, Nicholas 262, 264
Hunt
Elizabeth (née Janeway) 294 Hannah 303n11
Henry 292–4, 295–6, 302
drawings by 293
John 303n11
Huntebourne, Thomas 38, 49n43 Hunterian Psalter 186–7, 186
immigration, medieval 37, 46
ingots, copper-alloy, Bronze Age 28, 29
Ingram
John 46
William 46 inhumations
Bronze Age 17, 17, 30, 307
Romano-British 147
Anglo-Saxon 22, 31
iron working, Romano-British/Anglo-Saxon 58– 61, 61, 67–8, 73–4, 75
Jacob, Edward 53 Jakelyn, Thomas 271n9 Janeway
Benjamin 294
Elizabeth 294
Frances (née Bathon) 295 Jacob 292, 294–5, 299, 302
William snr and jnr 294 jetties, post-medieval, Cliffe 329 Joce, John 272n16
Johnson, Thomas 197
Jones, Inigo 80
Keates, Sir Jonathan 218 Keill, John 302
Kele, Cornelio 37
Kemp
Richard 248
William 248
Kennett
Richard 254
White 192, 206
Kenulf, King of Mercia 210 key, Romano-British 149
key/latch lifter, Anglo-Saxon 65, 66
Kilburne, Richard 207 Kipping see Kyppyng Kirkham see Kyrkeham knife, not dated 312 knitting 41
Knole see under Sevenoaks
Knowles, Pete, & Allen, Tim, ‘A Rare Kentish Example of a Very Early Post-Glacial Flint- Knapping Site at Court Stairs, Ramsgate’ 274–91
Kyppyng
Margaret 47
Thomas 47
Kyrkeham, Robert 272n30
lace chapes, Anglo-Saxon 65 Lacey, Thomas 255
lamb burial, late prehistoric 311 Lambarde, William 193, 197
Lambert, Craig, book review by 336–7 Laming, John 256n4
Langley
Henry 262–4 Richard 256n4
Thomas, Bishop of Durham 262–4, 270 Langton, Stephen, Archbishop of Canterbury
210
latch lifter see key/latch-lifter
Laud, William, Archbishop of Canterbury Dunkin, William, and 253
insignia of 198, 206 publication controls by 204‒5
Somner’s connection with 190, 192‒3, 195,
196, 207, 209
Lawrence, Margaret, obituary 354-5
Leach, Avril, ‘‘For the Honour of that Ancient Metropolis’: William Somner’s The Antiquities of Canterbury (1640)’ 190–214
lead working, late prehistoric 311 leather industry, medieval 41, 45
Lechour, Richard 41
Leek, Thomas, memorial 238–9, 238 Legate, John, snr and jnr 205 LeGear, Rod, on Mike Clinch 355–6 Leigh, Bourchier properties 266, 268 Leigh (Legh)
Elizabeth (née Langley) 264–5 Ralph 259, 264–5
Lepine, David, ‘William Thornbury (d.1481), Vicar of Faversham ‒ and Anchorite?’ 228– 46
Levirs, Joan 238–9 Lewes (Sussex)
church of St Anne 238
church of St John sub Castro 245n64 Lewis, John 243
Lewisham (London Borough) Blackheath, Cade’s rebellion 124, 125
Brockley Abbey 172
Deptford
dockyard 80
Great Plague, 1665‒6 79–80, 80, 83–5, 83,
89–90
Old Tidemill School, survey 327 Forest Hill
convent 326, 327
Our Lady and St Philip Neri school, survey 326–7
GENERAL INDEX
Limoges (France)
Abbey of Saint-Martial 160–3, 165 scriptorium
Mazarine Bible 169–71, 169, 170, 171
Sacramentary of Saint-Etienne 166–9,
167, 168
Second Bible of Saint-Martial 165–6,
166
plaque from (illus) 158–9 attribution 160–3
discussion 174–5
early vermiculé enamels listed 176 iconographic study 164–71
proposed provenance 171–4 trade with England 163–4
Lincoln (Lincs), cathedral memorial 238, 239
Littlebourne, migration 252
London
Charterhouse 301, 302
church of All Hallows on the Wall 238 church of St Mary Le Bow 301
Crane Court 294
Great Plague, 1665‒6 78–92
Gresham College 293, 294
migration 37
St Giles parish 78
St James’s Park, duck decoy 217, 218 St Mary Woolchurch parish 78 Southwark, Vauxhall Manor 299 Trinity Lane 205
Walworth Manor 299
Long, George 254
longhouse, Neolithic 330
loom weight, Anglo-Saxon 312 Loose, Quarry Wood 133 Lucas, John 37
Ludd, John 207
Luddenham, duck decoys 224
Lydden Downs, Limoges appliqué head 163–4,
164
Lyminge
cemetery, Anglo-Saxon 70
Great Hall 75
monastery 68–70
SFB 68–70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75
Lynch, Ralph 257n6 Lyndwood, William 242
Lypel, Richard 37
Magnus 245n64
Maidstone
Kent Medical Campus, evaluation 330 Mount Romano-British villa 130–1 Museum, Cobb collection 94
Malpas, John 49n34
Marden, Queen Margaret’s estate 229
Margate, church of St John, protestation oath, 1642
age 248, 249
missing men 252, 253, 254‒5, 256
occupations 249
taking 247, 248
Margetts, Andrew, The Wandering Herd: The Medieval Cattle Economy of South-East England c.450‒1450, reviewed 335–6
Marlow, Valentine 256n4 Martin, Nathaniel 254 Martyn
John 232
Richard 37
Mawdistley, John 221
Maxted family 252
Mellere, Thomas 265
Mellitus, St, Archbishop of Canterbury 188
metalworking
late prehistoric 310, 313
Anglo-Saxon 52
see also iron working; lead working
Mighels, Cornelius 37
migration
medieval, Canterbury 33–41, 47
businesses, locating 44–6 households and families 46–7 trades and crafts 41–4
1642, Thanet 250–2
Milfordhope island 223
Milton Regis
Birdshide, duck decoy 220–1, 220
church of the Holy Trinity 220
Grovehurst Farm, duck decoy 218–20, 220,
223, 224, 225
Kemsley Downes, duck decoy 221 Queen Margaret’s estate 229
Minnes, Sir J. 82
Minster
clergy 253
maritime customs 209
protestation oath, 1642
age 248, 249
missing men 252, 253, 255
mobility 252
occupations 249
taking 247, 248 moated site, Headcorn 325
molluscan analysis, Swalecliffe 316
Monkton, protestation oath, 1642 247, 248, 251
Montagu, Ralph 294 Moraunt, William 272n16
Mortlock, Patricia, & Broomfield, Shiela, on Christopher Chalklin 353–4
Morton
John, Bishop of Ely, later Archbishop of Canterbury 266, 268, 269
Ralph 271n9
mould fragments, late Bronze Age/Iron Age 310 Moyle, Sir Walter 229
GENERAL INDEX
mudstone see stone working, late prehistoric Mychel, John 204
nails, Anglo-Saxon 65 Nettlestead, Pympe family 230
New Romney, medieval migration 34, 37
Newton, Isaac 296, 297, 299, 301 Nisell, John 265; see also Nysell Noble, Robert 256n4
Norman, Reginald 242
Northfleet, SFB 68, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75
Norwood, Richard 255
Nunn
Hannah (née Hunt) 303n11 Jonathan 294, 303n11
Nysell, Thomas 273n31, 273n37; see also Nisell
obituaries
Black, Ernest Walker 356–9 Chalklin, Christopher W. 353–4 Clinch, Mike 355–6
Daniels, Albert 352–3
Lawrence, Margaret 354–5
Pout, Chris 350–2
Offa 208
Oldhall, Thomas 127n6 Omer, Richard 254 oppida
East Farleigh 133, 155
Quarry Wood 133
Orewell, Simon the younger 232 Osborne 210
Osemond, Richard 40 Ospringe
manor 228, 229 Syndon 243n8
Otford
Archbishop’s Palace 126, 268
Fiennes lands 121
Otham (Sussex), abbey 172, 177
ovens, Romano-British 134, 136, 140, 146, 147,
151–3, 152
Oxford (Oxon), All Souls College 223
palm cup, Anglo-Saxon 102, 105 Pamphlet, Daniel jnr 248 Pantere, Thomas 265
Parfitt, Keith, ‘Ringlemere: Investigation of Prehistoric Ring-Ditches, M2 and M3’ 1–32
Parker, Thomas 256n4 Paston, Margaret 268
Pearce, Job 254
pendant, Anglo-Saxon 105, 110, 115
Penshurst
Bourchier properties 266, 268
view of frontispiece
Peny, Robert 40–1
Pepys, Samuel 78, 80, 81–2, 85
Philipot, John 206, 207 Philpot, John 128n30 Picard, Revd John 256n4 Pickard, Nichola 47
Pigeon, Ingel, snr and jnr 46
pin beater, Anglo-Saxon 65, 66, 67, 73
pins
late Bronze Age, copper alloy 310, 311
Anglo-Saxon
bone 65, 66, 67
silver 102, 105, 117 pit alignments, Neolithic 3 plague
medieval, effect on migration 38 1625 199
1665‒6 78–92
plant remains
Neolithic 305
Iron Age 322, 325
Iron Age/Romano-British 322–4 plaque, enamel, medieval (illus) 158–9
attribution to Limoges 160–3 discussion 174–5
early Limoges vermiculé enamels listed 176 iconographic study (illus) 164–71
proposed provenance 171–4
trade with 163–4
plate fragment, copper-alloy, Bronze Age 29
Plomer, John 44
Pocklington, John 205
de la Pole, William, Duke of Suffolk 121, 124 pond, Romano-British 330–1
Poot, John 44 pottery
Neolithic
Burham, Margetts Pit 305
Ringlemere 4
Beaker, Ringlemere 4 Bronze Age
Burham, Margetts Pit 305, 308, 311 Hoo St Werburgh 330
Ringlemere 21, 23
Bronze Age/Iron Age
Burham, Margetts Pit 311 Ringlemere 11, 23
Iron Age
Burham, Margetts Pit 307 East Farleigh 131–3
Headcorn 322, 325 Hoo St Werburgh 330 Ramsgate 279
Ringlemere 21, 23–4
Iron Age/Romano-British, Headcorn 322, 324
Romano-British
Burham, Margetts Pit 312 East Farleigh 146, 147, 153
Faversham 58, 59, 62
Ringlemere 7, 13, 21, 22, 23–4
GENERAL INDEX
pottery (cont.)
Anglo-Saxon
Faversham 53, 54, 56, 61–2, 63, 67, 75
Ringlemere 13, 21, 23, 24–5
Updown 105
Saxo-Norman, Faversham 53
Poultney
Margery 229
Thomas 229
Pout, Chris, obituary 350–2
Preston, Rafe 44 Price, Revd John 221 Prince family 256
Thomas 255
protestation oath, Isle of Thanet 247–57
Pympe
Anne (née Thornbury) 230 John 230
Queenborough, duck decoy 218
querns, Romano-British
East Farleigh 146, 147, 153
Faversham 65 Quyntyn, William 272n30
radiocarbon dates Burham 307
Greenwich 328
Ringlemere 3
Swalecliffe 315, 317, 319
ragstone 266
Ramsgate
Court Stairs, excavation
background and location 274–5, 275
discussion 288–90
excavation evidence 276–9, 276, 277–8, 279
flint assemblage 279–80
condition 280
description 282–8, 282, 283–4, 288
origin 281, 281
raw material 280
St Laurence parish, protestation oath, 1642 age 249
missing men 253, 254, 255
mobility 252
occupations 249
taking 247, 248 Reculver
churchyard chapel 241
clergy 242
monastery 209
Reid, Patricia, ‘Probable SFB at Market Inn Site Yields First Secure Evidence of Early Anglo-Saxon Settlement at Faversham; Some Comparisons with other Kentish SFBs’ 51– 77
reliquary see plaque, enamel
Richardson, Robert 39–40
Rigden family 52 ring-ditches
Ringlemere, excavations background and location 1, 2, 3
discussion 29–31
excavation evidence (illus) 1‒19 finds 22–8
Updown 100–1, 105, 112, 114, 116
Ringlemere
cemetery, Anglo-Saxon 5, 22, 31, 98 excavations
background and location 1, 2, 3
discussion 29–31 excavation evidence
cemetery 5–6
M1 1–5, 8
M2 6–7, 8, 9, 10
M3 (illus) 11–19
M3, features cutting or outside 19–22 M4 19, 30
finds 22–9
gold cup 1, 4
Riverhead, Rotherden 265, 268, 270
Roach Smith, C. 51, 52
roads, medieval, Knole 122, 123, 126–7; see also
trackways
Robert de la Knole 262, 265
Robertsbridge (Sussex) 123 Robins, Thomas 256n4
Robinson, Keith, ‘Kentish Duck Decoys’ 215–27 Rochester
Bishop of see Warner, John
migration 37 Rodman, John 273n31
Rolvenden, Guildford family 230 Romchede (Romchete), John 265 Romney Marsh
Fiennes lands 123
Midrips, duck decoy 222–3 Roper, John 50n55
Rottingdean (Sussex), Limoges plaque 163
round barrows, Ringlemere 3, 5–6; see also ring-
ditches
Rowe, John 273n37 Rowles, John 89
Royal Society 292–8, 301–2
Rudling, David, on Ernest Walter Black 356–9 runic markings, Faversham 65
Russel, Chris, ‘Extended Continuity of Late Iron Age Landscape Features Revealed in Archaeological Investigations at Moat Road, Headcorn’ 320–6
Russell, John 254, 256n4 Rychere, John 39
Sackett, Robert 254
Sackville family 173
Thomas 125
GENERAL INDEX
St Cosmus and St Damien in the Blean, church of SS Cosmus and Damien 209
St Nicholas at Wade clergy 253
protestation oath, 1642
age 249
missing men 253, 254, 255
mobility 251
occupations 249
taking 247, 248
salt working, Hoo St Werburgh 330
Sampson
Henry 256n4 Nicholas 256n4
Sandwich clergy 231
duck decoy 225
maritime customs 209
migration 37, 250
Sarre 37
Saunder, William 256n5
Scot, Agnes, memorial 239, 240
Scottisshwoman, Margaret 37
sculpture, medieval, Canterbury 181–9, 184
Seal
Fiennes/Bourchier properties 123, 260, 261,
265–6
market 123
quarries 259, 261, 266, 267, 267
seax, Anglo-Saxon 110, 111, 114, 115
Sevenoaks
Bourchier properties 259, 260, 260, 265–6, 268 Brabourne 272n16
Brittains 265, 268, 270, 272n17 church of St Nicholas 127 Hardinges 262
Holmesdale 265
Joces (Josez) 259, 260, 266, 270
Knole House/manor
Bourchier buys and rebuilds 125–7, 126
deer park 268
discussion 270
indenture 258–61, 262
Knole estate 262–5, 263, 264
quarries and ragstone 266, 267 tenants and properties 265–6 works at 266–7, 268–9
Fiennes acquires 123
location 122
market 262, 265, 270, 271
Panters 259, 260, 266, 267, 268, 270
Riverhill 266
road, medieval 123
routes through deer park 123, 127n11 St Julians 266
Skeles 259, 260
Solefields, battle 124, 125
Waterden 262
sheet fragments
copper, Romano-British 149
lead, Romano-British 149
Sheppey, Isle of duck decoys 225 Harty 243n8
shield boss, Anglo-Saxon 102, 110, 115 Shipley (Sussex), Limoges plaque 163 Shortgrave, Richard 294
sickle, bronze 330
Sittingbourne, migration 37
Skelton family 218 Skinner, George 256n4
slag, Romano-British/Anglo-Saxon 62, 64, 67,
73
Slaughter, Peter, ‘Bronze Age River and Pastoral
Life on the Foreshore at Swalecliffe’ 315–20 Slayhills island 223
slipknot rings, Anglo-Saxon 102, 105, 117
Sloane, Hans 295–6, 301
Slobbe manor 268
Smith
J. 129
John 256n4
John (aka Mill) 259, 260, 266, 270
Snusher, Abraham 221
Somerset, Duke of see Beaufort, Edmund Somner
Barbara (née Dawson) 207 George 207
John 207, 295
John jnr 295 Robert 303n18 William
father of 195, 196
The Antiquities of Canterbury 190–3, 191,
200–1
appendices listed 208–10
first edition 204–8
illustration 299, 299
method 193–6
motivations 203–4
research and the city’s history 196–203 South Malling (Sussex), Fiennes lands 121 Southfleet
church of St Asaph 239 Hook Green 158
Southwell (Notts), church 239 Southwell, Thomas 226n5 Sparowe family 47
John and wife 47 Robert and wife 47 William and wife 47
spearheads, Anglo-Saxon 110, 111, 114–15
Speed, John 197, 198, 207
Speldhurst
Groombridge Place 229
Thornbury family 229
GENERAL INDEX
Spelman, Henry 197, 205, 226n5
Spot (Sprot) 198
Sprackling, John 253, 255
Spratt, Robert 254
Springhead, SFB 68, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75
Stafford
Sir Humphrey 125
Isolde 46
John, Archbishop of Canterbury 121–3, 124
Sir William 125
Stancombe, Revd George 256n4 Stegle, John 38–9
Stevens, Revd Thomas 256n4 Stokes, John 272n30, 273n37
stone working, late prehistoric 307–8, 308, 309,
310, 313
Stoodley, Nick, & Cosh, Stephen R., The Romano-British and Anglo-Saxon Cemetery at Eccles, Kent: A summary of the excavations by Alec Detsicas with a consideration of the archaeological, historical and linguistic context, reviewed 332–5
Stour, River 202
Stow, John 193, 195, 197, 198
Stowe, John de 37 structured deposition
Bronze Age 311, 313
Iron Age 131–3
Romano-British 147, 149–51
Stukeley, William 301
Sturry, migration 252
stylus, Romano-British 149
Suffolk, Duke of see de la Pole, William sunken-featured buildings
Canterbury 68, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75
distribution 69, 74
Dover 68, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75
Faversham
Market Inn 57–61, 58, 67–75
Perry Court 68, 70, 71–2, 73, 74, 75
Lyminge 68–70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75
Northfleet 68, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75
Ringlemere 5, 31
Springhead 68, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75
Thanet, Manston Road 68, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74,
75
West Stow 68, 70
Swalecliffe, foreshore fieldwork 315–19, 316,
318
Sweetinburgh, Sheila
‘Starting a New Life as Artisans and Traders in Ricardian and Henrician Canterbury (c.1400 and c.1500) 33–50
book review by 335–6
see also Bligh, Stuart, Edwards, Elizabeth, &
Sweetinburgh, Sheila (eds) Swithland (Leics), memorial 239, 240
sword pommel, crusader 172, 172
Tabbott, Samuel 252 Taddy, Edward 256n4 Taillour, Thomas 37
Talbot, William 239
tang fragment, copper-alloy, Bronze Age 29
Tappestere, Isolde 46
Tapstere, Agnes 37
Taylor
Brook 302
Francis 204
John 248
Richard 254
temple, Romano-Celtic, East Farleigh (illus) 137–41, 146–55
tenter yards, Canterbury 44
Terry, Robert 248
Teynham, parsonage 210
Thanet
Manston Road, SFB 68, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75
protestation oath, 1642 247–57
Theophilus 158
Thomas, Prior of Canterbury 208 Thoralby, John 262
Thorlegh
Anne 229
John 229
Thornbury
Agnes 228
Anne (née Thorlegh and Halsham) 229, 230 John snr 228
John 228‒30, 231, 232, 241, 243n8
Margery (née Poultney) 229 Philippa 230, 231
Richard 228‒9, 230, 241, 243n8
William, vicar of Faversham 228, 243
anchorite? 239–42
brass 232–9, 233, 235, 237
church career 230–2
family and origins 228–30, 230
Thorne, William 197, 210
Thrale, Richard 204, 205, 206 Throwley, Short wood 295 Ticehurst
Nicholas 221
Norman 222
Tiffin, John 253
Tillotson, John, Dean, later Archbishop of Canter- bury 294–5, 297–9, 302
Tilman, Ann 292
Todd, Robert 254
Tomas, John 44 Tonbridge
Bourchier properties 259, 260, 265–6, 268
Chandlers 266
Frenches 259, 260, 266, 270, 272n15
Tongeren, Tim van, ‘The Updown Anglo-Saxon Cemetery: a Revision of the Site’s Chronology using Correspondence Analysis’ 93–120
GENERAL INDEX
trackways
Bronze Age 308
prehistoric 330
Iron Age/Romano-British 322, 325
?post-Romano-British 312
trades
Canterbury, medieval 41‒4, 45
takers of protestation oath, Thanet 249–50 Travers, Samuel 91n24
Troward, Edward 256n4 Tubney, John 239
Turnham, Robert de 172–4, 175, 177
Twyne, John 197, 198
Twysden, Roger 207 Tyece, John 50n55 Tyrell
Philippa (née Thornbury and Pympe) 230 Sir William 230, 273n31
Underdown
Robert 253
Vincent 254 Upchurch
Horsham manor 223
Horsham Marsh, duck decoy 223 Slayhills Marsh, duck decoy 223
Updown, Anglo-Saxon cemetery, revision of chronology
artefact typologies and chronologies 101 background and location 93–4, 94, 95, 96, 98
correspondence analysis 106–11, 108, 109
discussion 116–17
earlier chronology 100–1
excavations 95–7, 97, 99
existing chronological framework 97–100 ‘final phase’? 104–5
revised chronology 112–16, 113
Welch’s chronology 101–4, 103
Urry, William 190, 192
Vicleston, John of 272n16
villas, Romano-British see Barming; East Farleigh;
Faversham; Maidstone (Mount) Violet, Edward 253
Waerd see Ward
Walder, John snr 272n30 Walker, Robert 91n18
wall plaster, painted, Romano-British 139, 139,
141, 148, 155
Waller, Sir Richard 229, 231 Walmer, Cranbrook family 252 Ward (Waerd), John 218
Warham, William, Archbishop of Canterbury 209
Warner, John, Bishop of Rochester 196, 205, 207
warren, medieval 5
Wastell
Gabriel 256n4 Paul 254
Watling Street 123
Waxham (Norfolk), duck decoy 217 Weaver, John 197
Webb, George 223 weights, lead, undated 313
Wellingham (Norfolk), memorial 238, 238
West Stow (Suffolk), SFBs 68, 70
wheel ornament, lead alloy, late prehistoric 308– 9, 309, 311
Whitaker, Joseph 224
Whitstable see Swalecliffe
Wibert, Prior of Canterbury 181, 182, 183 Wild, John 256n5
Wilfred, Archbishop of Canterbury 210 Wilkins, John, Bishop of Chester 294–5 William of Malmesbury 193
Williams family 218; see also Willyams Williamson, Stephen, ‘New Light on Stephen
Gray, FRS (1666‒1736), Canterbury Freeman Dyer’ 292–304
Willis, Steven, on Chris Pout 350–2 Willyams, John 37
Wilson, Eleanor, ‘Iconography and Origin: a Twelfth-Century Limoges Enamel Plaque from Bayham Abbey in the British Museum’ 158–80
Winchelsey, Robert, Archbishop of Canterbury 209
Winchester, Bishop of see Beaufort, Henry
window glass
Romano-British 141
medieval 202, 208
Windsor, Thomas, 6th Baron Windsor 207 wire, gold, Bronze Age 28, 29
Witherden family 252
withy-tie, Bronze Age 315, 317 Wode, Alexander 272n30 Wodehouse, Sir William 217 women, migrants 46–7
Wood
Rita, ‘Sculpture at the Green Court Gateway of Canterbury Cathedral Priory’ 181–9
Thomas 209
Woodnesborough, migration 252; see also Ringle- mere
woodwork, Bronze Age 317–19, 318
Wraith, Henry 222
Wren, Sir Christopher 298, 301
Wright, Roger 252
Wykehirst, Thomas 265
Zell, Michael, & Davies, Jacqueline, ‘The ‘Great Plague of London’ in Greenwich and Deptford, 1665‒1666’ 78–92