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field walking flint tools stone age

My First Stone Age Flint Find

Right so I am a professional Historian. I lecture, I write and I research but the one thing that I have never done that I’ve always wanted to do is to find a flint tool from the Stone Age. One of the topics I teach workshops on in schools is Stone Age and I have a lovely collection of tools that have been donated and bought but they were not quite the same. What is worse is that children ask me where they can find flint tools and I tell them that they can find them field walking, that there are plenty of archaeological societies they can join that will help them.

This year I decided to get serious about finding my own flint tools so I got some books, joined some Facebook groups and spoke to some experts. I decided that my best luck would be in Cornwall. First I knew some farmers so getting permission to walk their fields would not be a problem and second Cornwall does not have natural flint deposits so any flint that you find there has been bought in. Third, I had stalked… not stalked a Facebook friend who lived near my parents who had found some amazing flints and no I wasn’t green with envy.

Off I went, finishing work on the Friday and driving six hours to South West Cornwall. The next day I was walking up and down fields staring at the ground. By lunch time I was in despair. I was pretty sure I was the only person in the world who would never find a flint tool despite doing hours of research. Despite going to a flint rich environment where Stone Age people not only lived but put up monuments they could not be bothered to leave flint tools for me. Professional failure stared me in the face, I would have to retrain as an accountant.

Then there it was. A piece of flint. Not a sliver or a tool but a lump and because it was flint I picked it up and knew instantly what it was. I have another example in my collection. It was a core. Cores are the flint that is left after you make a blade. I rubbed the dirt off the sides and saw the distinctive shape of the microliths that had been knapped off it sometime in the Mesolithic Stone Age. Sometime between 15,000 years ago and 5,000 years ago somebody had used this to create microliths. Rather than carry around a whole knife kit they had one core that they knapped when they needed a knife and threw it away when they had used it. I am a very romantic person and I felt that vertigo of time and a connection to someone who was very possibly one of my ancestors. That day I found two mircoliths and another core. I was excited to say the least and my imposter anxiety was buried in a nice deep grave.

The next day I went out again and was walking in a field just behind St Leven church. As a shuffled along in my vivo barefoot I heard a voice say, “Hello!” I turned and returned the greeting which was followed by the question, “Can I ask… what are you doing?” It was a walker and his wife. She was curious but he had clearly come to the conclusion I was a nutter. I pulled myself together, I was walking in a field staring at the ground in the hot sun wearing smart clothes and expensive boots. “Ah! yes Im a historian and I’m looking for flint…”

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A short history of the 1918 flu pandemic — Notes from the U.K.

Now that we know at first hand what a pandemic is, this might be a sensible time to learn more about the 1918 flu–that thing most of us know as the Spanish flu.  Spain’s connection was minimal. The disease first got public recognition there and that’s about it. World War I was still being fought, […]

A short history of the 1918 flu pandemic — Notes from the U.K.
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Things I miss…

As we all know we are in the middle of a pandemic and if you are a good boy like me you have largely been in the house for the last ten plus weeks. Now I am lucky because this kind of thing doesn’t really bother me. If I have a cup of tea and a book I am largely happy but there are things I am missing that I would like to get to see again.

Church Crawling

From a very early age I have been going into church for fun. I am religious but I am also curious and love a good medieval or earlier church. To be honest I prefer the medieval because of the decoration. One of my favourite cathedrals is Carlisle Cathedral. We visited it after walking some of Hadrians Wall and I thought that it was one of the highlights of my holiday.

Museums

Now anyone who knows me knows that I never go to the Coventry Transport Museum unless I am compelled to do so. But I do miss going to museums and looking at exhibitions. Long after leaving the museum service I am still a member of the Museums Association. As I said in my previous post about being a historian one of my favourite songs is by the Levellers.

Performing

I am really looking forward to performing again. This is me performing Beowulf at Fargo in Coventry. I no longer have the big beard because I shaved it off in solidarity with my friends in the NHS. Beowulf but I also deliver lectures and discussion groups.

Meeting Friends

One of the best things about being interested in culture is how social it can be. I love coming to this bookshop and meeting my friends. You can have a good cup of tea, browse the books and chat.

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My Roman Fort

My first job in Coventry was working as a guide at the Lunt Roman Fort in Baginton near Coventry. In all honesty it was a mixed bag as all job are. I have some nice stories and some horrible ones but I think it best to dwell on the good and let the bad fade away. The work was mostly with schools but we also had special schools and sometimes adult learners. One of the most fun days was with the Cambridge Classical Association.

A map of all the different periods of archaeology at the Lunt site. Note that the site was not occupied continuously but repeatedly from the first century to the fourth.

The Lunt Roman Fort is one of the most important Roman sites in the country. It is unique in that it is the only reconstruction in situ, actually using Roman post holes, and the gyrus. The gyrus is a circular feature inside the walls which has been interpreted in various ways. I personally do not agree with the accepted interpretation, a horse training ring, but rather think that it was an enclosure for prisoners.

I had the privilege of meeting Brian Hobley at the Boudica conference which was one of the most exciting moments of my career.

I recently bought this on eBay because I love the Fort and like collecting information about it. Its an excellent report and really puts the vision (never realised) forward that the archaeologists intended.

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Why I am a historian

I have been thinking of why I am a historian and trying to work out why I ended up here.

I think that the first reason is that when I was growing up as a I hated school and found the whole thing impossible except for history. When I was studying history I had an excellent teacher who I really liked. I could do it and I was able to flourish.

Second I really like old things. I think that they have a value beyond their physical value. Yesterday I went for a walk in a stream and found prehistoric wood, broken pot from around 1600 and roman pottery. All completely worthless financially but a touchstone from another age, other people and other values. I am a terror to my wife in junk shops, on eBay and walking past skips. I want to save everything and passionately collect all sorts of nonsense.

Finally I am romantic. I love the song by the Levellers “Do I belong to some ancient race, I like to walk in ancient places.” and I do. I dislike the modern age that seems so desperate to divide itself from the past and set its face against our ancestors. Do people not realise that the luxury of the modern age is only possible by the hard work of the past?

And that is it. I think we owe the people of the past a debt of gratitude. We need to value the past as we look to the future and seek to preserve the best of the past to hand onto our children.

Rant over.

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Anglo-Saxon Poetry and Riddles

For my Certificate in Education and Training course I have to do a micro teach. This is a fifteen minute presentation on a topic of my choice. This micro blog is to add to my session and allow me to touch on some of the naughtier Anglo-Saxon riddles that might get me in trouble in college.

If you are reading my blog you probably already know that in the 9th century there was no TV, radio, mobile phones or other time wasting devices. A modern reader will struggle to imagine just how dark it is without street lights and electric lights. When I studied in Wales I had to walk a couple of miles through the darkness to my digs and without the aforementioned modern lights, the darkness was tangible.

I would like you to imagine an Anglo-Saxon hall or an Anglo-Saxon family after a day at work huddled around the fire doing what the English do best… telling stories. Interestingly enough the first thing written in English was a hymn written by the famous cowherd Caedmon. The story goes that Caedmon was unable to sing so when the Saxons met up after work to take turns singing Caedmon ran away. I can not stress how upsetting this is for a person in the dark ages. To be part of society was everything and to be apart was a disgrace worse than death. The poem, The Wanderer (from which JRR Tolkien borrowed for some of the most despairing lines of Lord of the Rings), presents the Anglo-Saxon horror of exclusion. Caedmon ran away from his friends and went to sleep. In his sleep he dreamed a dream where a man came to him and asked him to sing. Caedmon replied that he could not sing and the man replied “Neither the less, you will sing for me.” When Caedmon woke up he found himself able to transform Christian doctrine into song. Its his hymn, as recorded by the Venerable Bede, that is the first thing ever written down in English.

Lets imagine the Anglo-Saxon hall, a dangerous place where extreme politeness masked the potential for fatal violence. A place where people were expected to drink but not lose control, be aggressive but keep themselves contained. Smokey, dark and vibrant. Its in this environment that the Anglo-Saxons showed off their linguistic skill, their wit and their performance skills.

First I would like to look at riddles. Riddles are simple questions that the listener must guess. I think part of the game is to make it hard enough not to get but simple enough when it is explained to shame the listener for not getting it. My faviourate riddle is “What is the cleanest leaf?” and that is one of the cleanest riddles! in Sweet’s AngloSaxon Reader in Prose and Verse we find some funny and very rude riddles.

In one the asker describes a long shaft, with a bulbous end and skins at the top that can be peeled back bringing tears to a maidens eyes. Can you imagine the audience clutching children’s ears and feeling embarrassed? Of course the answer is an onion but if its is told right I am sure you know what it could be. I think this demonstrates a clear continuity in humour from the 9th century to the modern day. The double meaning, mistaken description is a mainstay of the Carry On Films and other modern films in the 21st century.

Its worth noting that Tolkien was a very accomplished Anglo-Saxon scholar who drew extensively upon his learning to inform his fiction. In the tense and powerful chapter Riddles in the Dark Gollum and Bilbo play a riddle game that Anglo-Saxons would have been familiar with and I think would have shuddered at. Deep underground the hero plays riddles for his life with a subterranean grendal like monster. One of the riddles stands out for me in particular.

“An Eye in a blue face saw an eye in a green face. ‘That eye is like to this eye’ Said the first eye, ‘But in low place, Not in high place”

The answer is of course Sun shining on daisies and can be worked out by the blue sky and the green grass but there is a short cut in the word daisy. Daisy is a kenning which means Days Eye. The daisy will open at dawn and close at sun set thus is the eye of the day and in this riddle the sun recognises it as kin. Have you guessed what is the cleanest leaf yet?

This leads us onto the next part of this discussion which is Kennings. If you have come to me through twitter you know that I am a kenning enthusiast. I love them because they are so powerful. They can be used for headlines “Trouser snake terror in jungle” in insults “salad dodger” or in naming for example in the work of Roual Darl. Remember the giants and their names? My sword is called “Neck snapper”, my dagger “rib tickler”, my small axe “Ankle breaker” and my Dane Axe “Day Spoiler”. Tolkien used them again in The Hobbit. Thorins sword was called “Goblin Cleaver” and Gandalf’s sword “The Foe Hammer”. Out of antiquity or weapon naming they are a powerful tool for marketing and can be used to name products for example the “Dust Buster”

A kenning works by combining verbs and nouns to create a powerful description. But these are Anglo-Saxon kennings. Viking kennings go to another level and require specialist knowledge to understand. Anglo-Saxons kenning can be worked out by asking yourself a simple question. If I call you a salad dodger you ask yourself who would dodge a salad and the answer is a fat person! Viking kennings are different. They talk of the mead of odin. Impenertatble unless you are familiar with the kenningar which would tell you that Odin drinks poetry like mead, the same with Odins Oaks which means warriors. This is symptomatic of a cultic and exclusive society that seeks to identify outsiders quickly, easily and with minimal fuss. The modern equivalent might be a British Public School where different schools call common objects obscure names or the military where kennings can be used to talk about uncomfortable subjects. A good example comes from Starship Troopers where Ricos commander mentions that one of his colleagues has done a land deal. Ricco understands immediately that his commander is telling him that his friend is dead but this kenning works because of a shared knowledge that if someone dies they are said to have “bought the farm”, thus a land deal.

My faviourate Viking Kenning is adapted from Terry Pratchitt and I’m sorry to say I have forgotten which book it is from. I call my shoes “Priests”.

At this point I am sorry I have to be a bit cheeky. Writing is my day job and this is how I sustain myself and my family. The above Amazon links are useful but I would please ask you to consider supporting me through Paetron or by a gift though PayPal. Especially if you haven’t guessed that the cleanest leaf is the holly leaf. Its the holly leaf because Vikings use leaves to wipe their bottoms and the one they don’t use is the holly leaf for obvious reasons. And the reason my shoes are called priests is because they save my soles!

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This current darkness

I was moved today by the front page of the Spectator that showed the NHS as soldiers in trenches fighting a war. I was incredibly moved by one of my friends who is a radiographer who shaved off his beard so that his PPE would work and I was moved to tears by my own sense of worthlessness in this current crisis.

I am a historian with an interest in literature and philosophy. Quite useless at the best of times but in a hospital even worse that useless, a potential menace. What use is a knowledge of Paelolithic fauna or Bronze Age language in a resuscitation? None. Its like that poster of the little girl asking her father what he did in the Great War for civilisation. I know that it is shameless emotional blackmail but what am I doing for civilisation during this six months of lockdown?

I am reminded of a lecture delivered by CS Lewis during the Second World War to humanity students who were wondering if there were any point learning about Anglo-Saxons during wartime. Lewis argued that wartime and peace time were in fact the same. The only difference is that in wartime it is impossible to forget the truth that everyone dies in the end. In peace time you can forget that, you can forget that our society and culture is finite and you can forget the sheer unfairness of the universe. During wartime these truths bear down on us to the exclusion of all else.

My knowledge therefore is equally redundant during a Corona lockdown or during freedom. It is equally valid as well. Peace and war are the same and so should be my attitude to my discipline. Which leads back to my last post, what is the point of history? The point of history is to inform, entertain, educate and see the world through different eyes. To liberate the individual from the pressure of the now and take a wider perspective. My house built in the 1930s was bombed in the war, stands on a deer park owned by the Black Prince and is in striking distance of a Roman Fort built after the Boudican revolt. The purpose of history is to show a bigger and wider world and get in some of the sap that human life is built on.

When my friend shaved his beard I did the same. I now go shopping for my elderly neighbours and enjoy my daily walk around the Quint. Now I feel a bit less useless in that I can see a role for my discipline in the current darkness and I will leave you with a quote from one of my favourite Anglo-Saxon poets (credited with Beowulf by Tolkien, maybe with a smile) “..this too will pass.”

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historicism History

What is history about?

Today I have been running a history workshop in a fantastic school. During the lunch hour I spoke to the dinner ladies who told me how much they loved history. This has posed the question, what is this all about?

History is a complex intersection of a number of components. These components are the building blocks from which history is constructed. It is a mistake to think that history and the past are the same thing. The history is a reconstruction of the past from the traces that have remained.

These components are the facts. Facts are the building blocks of authoritative history. Here I would like to contrast postmodern history and pseudo history, such as conspiracies, from mainstream authoritative history. Mainstream history lives and dies by its own rules. The facts must either support the argument or bury it. In postmodern history the argument is more important than the facts and in conspiracy history the facts are of no importance whatsoever ever.

Buildings, books, archaeology and other remains from the past are, like the paper weight in 1984, messages from the past. They have messages that need to be understood and communicated. Its this role that justifies the existence of the Historian. Such people bury themselves in the past to understand it and communicate it to those who are fascinated by stories from ancient times.

But what is the history about? What is the prime mover. I know marxists who would point to class war, I know some people, even now, who believe in the zeitgeist or even some liberals who talk of progress. I am a liberal humanist and skeptical of such things. As I chatted to the dinner ladies I realised that what engaged them was exactly the same the true prime mover of history, people.

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What is the point of history?

A good friend of mine quoted someone who neither of us could remember, maybe you know and could tell me in the comments section, that history is “just one bloody thing after another” and they might well be right. At university, towards the end of my study, I came to the conclusion that a career in history wasn’t for me. And that was one of my many mistakes. In this short blog post I want to argue that the study of history is important not least for the inspiration it can provide.

Exhibit one is my cat called Cleopatra. Cleo was a rescue cat from the Cats Protection League who quite frankly told us she was lovely and dumped then ran for the door. She wasn’t and spent at least five years hating me personally. She has now gotten over this and is one of my best friends. She is currently sitting on my neck. The value of history in this case is that it enabled us to give her a name that really, really suited her superior, jumped up personality. I think also it was a way for us to communicate to other people what she was like because Cleopatra is a well known historical figure. Her attributes can easily be implied onto a little cat and we all know about her personality without having to explain.

Exhibit two is Britains most successful manufacturer which is Games Workshop. Games Workshop makes plastic toy soldiers and sells them world wide. They are a very successful business. Let us be honest anyone can make toy soldiers, but not on the scale of Games Workshop. The difference is what hobbyists call ‘fluff’ and what GW writers like to call Intellectual Property. Its successful, engaging and gripping narratives are inspired and drawn from history. The Ultramarines are very Roman, the Imperial Guard reference conflicts from the Zulu Wars through the First World War to Vietnam.

I am going to conclude here by summing up. History gives a shared knowledge with references that can be drawn upon to add depth to personal understanding between those who share that knowledge. And from that knowledge engaging and powerful narratives can be created that can help create powerful, engaging and profitable brands.

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prehistory

As sure as the foundations of the Earth…

In my work I teach a variety of topics. One of the most popular is Stone Age. When I start my day off I start off with the concept of Prehistory. This introduces the idea that there was something before writing and records. From this I explain to children born this century, in fact last decade, that there was a world before mirco-waves, mobile phones and even televisions. These things that are so ubiquitous in our own lives are only very recent inventions. In my own experience essays written in my first year at university were entirely hand written, the internet was never used for research despite being lauded as the next big thing. A subject I remained skeptical about until the the first years of the next century. These things make me think, what in our ancestors worlds was so ubiquitous and fundamental that they couldn’t imagine a world without it?

When we think about the Stone Age we are considering a period of history that covers a mind boggling six million years. If your mind doesn’t boggle imagining that about of time you are not doing it right. There were people who never imagined that the ice age would end, those who made their homes in Doggerland or on the mountains that would become the isle of scilly never imagined that the seas would one day displace their descendents. There were people who never imagined that the Neaderthals would become extinct or the mega fauna they relied upon for food and shelter would vanish from the Earth.

Prehistory comes to an end, in Britain, with the invasion of the Romans. The brutal conquest and the ‘civilisation’ of the Celts brought to an end a civilisation that covered Europe from modern Wales to Greece. In a blink of an eye certainties and attitudes and traditions came to an end. The Romans themselves believed Rome to be eternal and the sacking of Rome in the 5th century was a shocking event recorded in the literature of the time.

The term Dark Age is contested by modern historians but certainly there was a loss of knowledge, security and what I think we would describe as civilisation. The Anglo-Saxons were fascinated by the Roman ruins and no diplomatic mission was complete without a tour. The fantastic poem ‘The Ruin’ speaks to this fascination. In fact I would argue that the Anglo-Saxons didn’t believe they would ever equal the Romans and that they were living in the sun set of the world, which possibly accounts for some of the melancholy in their poetry.

From the Dark Ages though the Medieval period we come to Reniassance and the Age of Reason. These are ages of discovery but they are ages of certainties as well, who would have guessed the Hapsburg Empire would have vanished in the 20th century, who would have guessed that the British Empire, in the form we most readily associate with it, would endure for less than a hundred years?

We all live in a moment of time where subjectively speaking the powers that be are the foundations of the Earth. But objectively speaking they are ghosts that appear and disappear like the sparrow in the Anglo-Saxon story. Life, the bard says, is like a lighted hall of merriment and companionship. The sparrow flies in through one window out from the dark night and into the hall for a moment before flying out again though another window and again into the dark. The only certainty I can offer you is the uncertainty of certainty.