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Vitrified forts
I was interested to read (in CA 415) that one version of Tinnis fort [underlying Tinnis Castle, which is shown in its medieval prime BELOW] had been set alight and vitrified. It is remarked that this is not common. I know of another example in Scotland, Craig Phadrig on the north side of the Inverness end of Glenmore, which I climbed as a member of an Inverness Scout Troop as a boy. The OS map said the top was a vitrified fort, and the actual hollow top of the hill fits that description. It was forested at the time. The neighbouring hill is called Craig Dunain, perhaps used as a fort when Craig Phadrig was abandoned? I found your article very interesting.
Niall Martin, Edinburgh
Log-boat sternboards
Can I add another possible explanation for removable sternboards in Bronze Age log-boats (‘Letters’, CA 413)? Most small-boat users know that it is difficult and time-consuming to bail out excess water from within a boat while on the move. The easiest method is a ‘self-bailer’ mechanism in the stern. It is quite possible that a sternboard in a log-boat could be slightly raised vertically in its side-grooves to allow a small gap at the base through which excess water would be ‘self-bailed’ and sucked out of the boat while it was moving forwards through the water. Nowadays, all self-bailers have non-return valves of various kinds, but the extra hull length between the sternboard and the extreme end would help prevent re-entry of water. This extra length would also assist if moss were used as an easy method of caulking and temporarily sealing the groove when the sternboard was slid back downwards after each use.
Richard Green, Glasgow
Editor’s note: Thank you, Richard, for your interest in Bronze Age log-boats. I hope you enjoy this month’s feature about a recent experimental archaeology project exploring how they were made and used – including sternboards (see here).
Chequered history
In CA 414 (p.35), it was stated that a Nuremberg jetton was a kind of token used in lieu of money. Actually, they were used in the calculation of accounts. Placed on a chequerboard, they were used in a similar manner to the operation of an abacus.
We found many in the silt at the bottom of the main sewer when I took part in excavations at the site of the monastery of St Albans. I suspect that monks swallowed the jettons when there was no other way of getting their accounts to add up.
Richard Durrant, Poole
The False Merlin with no grave
I enjoyed reading Dr Toolis’ fascinating article about ‘Merlin’s Grave’ (CA 415), but was left feeling that Lailoken (aka Merlin) might yet be discovered in a Tweeddale field.
If such remains were found, they wouldn’t be of the Merlin who foresaw a great Dark Age British warrior kicking the Saxons out of Britain, subduing the Scandinavians, and (anachronistically) defeating the forces of Rome; these are predictions Geoffrey of Monmouth put into the mouth of his wizard to connect Nennius’ story of Vortigern losing control of his Saxon mercenaries to a period of British dominance he’d made up.
Geoffrey showed Merlin flexing his magical powers by setting up Stonehenge, before transforming Uther into the semblance of Gorlois so he could father the previously obscure Arthur and give him a new life fulfilling the fake prophecy. Accordingly, this false Arthur hired the best knights and used magical weapons to defeat all the traditional enemies of the Britons and carve out a European empire.
But Geoffrey must have realised he would only get away with his enthralling historical subterfuge if he could seamlessly connect it to Gildas’ well-known rant about the corrupt British kings of his time. To achieve this, Geoffrey made his Arthur give up his planned march on Rome and return to Britain to deal with Guinevere’s affair with Mordred. This resulted in the forces of both sides wiping each other out and Arthur being stopped by a mortal wound. Having collapsed his historical blip, leaving no physical trace of it ever having existed, Geoffrey had his false Merlin sail the fake Arthur off to the ‘Apple Isle’ for healing so the king could meet his prophesied ‘uncertain end’. Though not before he’d passed his crown to Constantine, the first of Gildas’ ungodly rulers.
Dr Gordon Brooks, Gosport
Edible Archaeology
To celebrate both the work of Edmund Artis and the life of Geoff Dannell, who died in 2022, the Nene Valley Archaeological Trust commissioned this cake in the form of a castle. Artis made a ‘confection in the form of a castle’ that was so much appreciated by the 4th Earl Fitzwilliam that he then employed Artis at his country seat at Milton near Peterborough – which introduced Artis to the Nene Valley and its archaeology. You can read more about the life of Edmund Artis here.
Stephen Upex, Nene Valley Archaeological Trust
CA ONLINE: What you shared with us this month
Hàìghlèàgh Winslade @hiegleah
This afternoon’s tea-break reading in the Teepee in the back garden for #HillfortsWednesday
is the article in CA 414 @CurrentArchaeo on Pendinas Beyngaer Bae Ceredigion Cymru.
History Press Local @THP_Local
Book review in print. Thank you @CurrentArchaeo for reviewing Historic Building Mythbusting by James Wright @jparchaeology #archaeology #mythbusting
Peebleshire Archaeological Society @PeeblesArchSoc
We’re delighted to see the October edition of @CurrentArchaeo magazine features an eight-page article written by @GUARD_Archaeol’s Ronan Toolis on the Drumelzier #archaeology project that members of @PeeblesArchSoc took part in. We also made the front cover! Get your copy now!
Write to us at: CA Letters, Current Publishing, Office 120, 295 Chiswick High Road, London, W4 4HH, or by email to: letters@archaeology.co.uk. For publication: 300 words max; letters may be edited.
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