Inside the Museum of London

Today marks the last day of 2012 and as such the end of our Archaeological Archive’s 10^th anniversary. As a final celebration of the LAARC’s previous decade of inspiring a passion for archaeology, I’m presenting the last object in our blog series: ‘A History of London in 10 Archaeological Objects’.

Over the last 12 months I have been unravelling stories around a selection of archaeological artefacts that occupy our Archaeological Archive’s some 10 kilometres of shelving. Staying true to my word these have not been the “shiniest” nor have they been “well known” but they have allowed us to explore the history of the city in novel ways.

My final object comes from an archaeological excavation close to the home of the Archive at Mortimer Wheeler House – the Shoreditch Park Community excavation of 2005 (NNR05). Sponsored by the Big Lottery fund, this excavation involved a range of archaeologists, including those from the Archive, in a dig that was later televised as a Time Team special episode: Buried by the Blitz.

The impetus for the excavation was the anniversary of the end of the Second World War.  The project sought to explore evidence of bomb damage from the blitz and later from V1 and V2 rockets to the 1830s houses, involving the local community directly in this archaeological exploration.

Alongside evidence of bomb damage to the buildings through study of their surviving foundations, an interesting material assemblage was discovered, especially relating to the C20^th.  I could have selected an object pertinent to wartime such as a military cap badge, or perhaps something more evocative of the residents of the area such as a toy aeroplane. However, instead I’ve chosen something far more prosaic and that which you may even question as being ‘archaeological’.

Object 10

Modern (C20th) Plastic BC Light Fitting 

This light fitting is a small piece of evidence for the fabric of the many standing structures which were finally demolished, to make way for the area now known as Shoreditch Park, in the 1980s.

This artefact is made of composite materials, but predominantly plastic. Ironically it is this material that makes our 80 year old light fitting harder to conserve, and indeed preserve, than all the other objects in my top ten including our 40,000 year old Palaeolithic flint blade. This is all due to the inability of being able to stabilise the object which is most probably Bakelite, an early form of plastic and one of the first to be entirely synthetic. When I opened the box of plastic objects from the Shoreditch Park archive a distinct smell arose – a clear sign of chemical change, and one that is incredibly difficult to prevent.

Our light fitting is still worthy of being labelled an artefact. It was dug up under controlled conditions that accord to modern scientific archaeological practice and, despite its modernity, like all other artefacts it provides insight into the historical past, although this may at first be unclear.

Changing British Standards mean the wiring attached to our fitting will be out of date, as new colour coding systems have come into effect. Likewise the mechanism itself, although common, may also soon become redundant as new legislation for energy-saving light blubs are further developed, with a corresponding design change. Like all good artefacts we could even develop a typology (categorisation by its ‘type’) based on its morphology (the way it looks) for our light fitting.

Our tenth object is an historical electrical relic but more importantly it is part of a contemporary archaeological context. Although it may appear inconsequential on its own, when considered as part of an assemblage it adds to our interpretation of the Shoreditch site.

Although this blog may be the culmination of an archaeological ‘top ten’, it certainly isn’t the end of archaeology in London, as the city is forever being redeveloped. As such we may have to expand to a ‘top eleven’ in the near future or indeed rewrite the entire series as ‘new’ archaeology is unearthed and questions what we take for granted as ‘history’…

You may be overwhelmed with archaeological objects popping up on our blog at the moment as the LAARC has been running its much loved ‘Object-of-the-month’ competition. To contribute to this artefact overload, I’m now presenting our ninth object in the LAARC’s ‘A History of London in 10 Archaeological Objects’ blog series.

Last time it was a burnt brick that I used to define the Stuart period and its major event, the Great Fire of 1666. We’ve now moved on a few hundred years to the Victorian period (or have we?) and instead or dealing with the iconic I now want to focus on the banal.

As we’ve been slowly approaching the present, I keep making a point of questioning the relevance of archaeology considering how our historical documents become more and more prolific and varied. ‘Historical archaeology’ is one method that engages exactly with this concept head-on, aiming to contextualise and reassess our historical conceptions with oodles of evidence. A great example of this approach is the ‘Living in Victorian London’ collaborative project between MOLA and Queen Mary University of London. In order to better understand everyday life in Victorian London, researchers combined a study of archaeological evidence from households across London with relevant documentary historical records.  This provided new insight into the economic, social and cultural history of Dickensian London.

In this blog series I’ve tried to steer clear of those objects that would perhaps be obvious in compiling London’s historical ‘top ten’.  However, for our ninth object I’ve opted for something quite unusual, to emphasise the importance of archaeology in an historically saturated period. I’ve also tried to touch upon a major theme of the Victorian period – the concept of ‘childhood’.

Object 9 

Victorian (C19th) Georgian (C18th) Wooden Dolls

These two wooden dolls were found during excavation in 1993 at Limehouse, Tower Hamlets (LHC93) and are unique to London’s archaeological record. They formed part of a Victorian assemblage of artefacts and were later studied as part of the ‘Living in Victorian London’ project. Our dolls are made of alder wood and have survived remarkably well, no doubt due to being sealed in a cesspit (aka a Victorian privy). 

Although the collection of finds – the assemblage – from the cesspit were of Victorian date these toys were indentified as ‘Queen Anne’ dolls by finds specialists, immediately dating them to the early C18^th (as opposed to the C19^th). Originally the dolls would have been dressed in elaborate costume but this has long since decayed. The only especial detail that survives are the dolls’ oval pewter eyes. 

Like the ‘Living in Victorian London’ project, I also took a collaborative approach in trying to explore the history of these dolls further. My first stop was the Museum of London’s collections, which revealed one entry (from almost 700) for a doll with a particularly interesting physical description: “Two mortise grooves at base and a flat back indicate that the doll was attached to something at these two points”.

Our Senior Curator of Fashion & Decorative Arts (and a well-known blogger to these pages) not only located this doll in our Costume store for me, but also discovered another doll which puts our privy-worn archeological examples into much better context: 

Suddenly the somewhat enigmatic mortises were revealed as the hinges for legs!

It had been suggested by archaeologists that these dolls might have been made for adults rather than children, which puts an interesting spin on the concept of Victorian childhood. The ‘material culture’ interpreted from this site was both diverse and rich, which is at odds with the census and local rate books. These suggest that households in the Limehouse area at the time were typical of the East End’s poorer districts. Although obvious questions arise over ‘who owned these objects’ and ‘why did they throw them away’, in the case of our dolls we may also question ‘why were they kept for so long’?

Once again, ambiguous archaeology always raises more questions that it can answer, but these dolls hopefully emphasise the potential that ‘modern’ archaeology has for questioning what our historical documents may purport as fact. They also draw attention to the curation of objects within a lifetime and the importance of archaeological context in providing robust dating, as our dolls are archaeological red-herrings in this respect.

The LAARC’s celebratory object blog is now in its closing stages. When I blogged about our seventh object, the C16th Tudor Canon Ball, we were prepping for another of our award winning volunteer projects, which we’re now half-way through!

Our eighth object brings us another century closer to the modern era. Although our historical sources are now becoming more prolific this doesn’t mean London’s archaeology doesn’t have an important part to play in questioning and enhancing our historical record.

Three major events dominate London’s Stuart period and are highlighted in the Museum’s gallery War, Plague & Fire.  So what object to represent one of these major events? Perhaps surprisingly, London didn’t actually witness any Civil War (1642 – 1649) fighting so we are lacking objects that could engage us with this conflict directly. I could have selected something macabre that related to the Great Plague of 1665, however, the Museum has just opened its Doctors, Dissection and Resurrection Men exhibition, and I didn’t want to jump on the Halloween bandwagon.  So that leaves us with fire….

Fire is an extremely destructive element; however in regards to archaeology it is also a great preserver.  A number of archaeological excavations have revealed Great Fire deposits such as PEN79, BPL95 and ESC97. These excavations are all located close to Pudding Lane where the Fire started on the 2^nd September 1666 in Thomas Farriner’s Bakery.

The sites above have revealed some extremely unique individual and groups of objects, sealed by buildings brought down in the conflagration and only revealed again some 300 years later. A pair of waffle tongs, excavated from the site of Monument House, have to be my favorite example – another parallel hasn’t been unearthed in London.

What is of even greater archeological significance however is the fact that the Great Fire forms an event horizon in London’s archaeology – a known event of a known date (1666) which ties these contemporary objects together. This allows us to also refine the dating of similar objects from other excavations in London, Britain and even abroad. An example of the above include a number of Dutch wall tiles from site PEN79, which have had their dating refined to c.1630 – 1666. 

So what archaeological object to represent the Great Fire of London and its importance to the archaeological and historical record? First of all it has to be burnt, but I’ve not selected a unique object (such as the waffle tongs) but something that at first seems quite mundane…a brick.

Object 8

Stuart (C17^th) Burnt Ceramic Brick

So why a brick? Firstly, because our ‘archaeological top 10’ must include a ceramic object (but without resorting to a piece of pottery). It is also a fine example of a brick. Our brick closely accords to building regulations of 1571, with its dimensions measuring 228 x 115 x 57mm.

Our brick is just one of a series that lined the cellar floor of a building excavated in 1979 on the eastern side of Pudding Lane (where the Great Fire ignited). What makes this burnt brick special is its coating of a substance identified as wood pitch.

When the cellar floor was excavated, it revealed the remains of about twenty wooden barrels (carbonised by intense burning), which would have stored this tar-like substance. Our lone brick is therefore part of an assemblage which is evidence for industry in the local area, as wood tar was used for waterproofing ships’ hulls (Pudding Lane being located close to the waterfront).

In addition, our brick is covered in a combustible that facilitated London’s most cataclysmic event. Could we suggest that if this cellar hadn’t been storing such a highly flammable substance perhaps the Great Fire wouldn’t have been so great?

Lastly, my brick has also been selected as it is an element of a built structure. Popular archaeology always emphasises objects (my blog is no exception) and it is objects that connect us more intimately with people. But archaeological structures are important in recreating the fabric of a city, a ‘person’ in itself. Stuart London was a city built of timber and our brick is therefore a rare surviving piece of this fabric which can connect us in an extremely tangible way to the past: to handle one of these bricks is to cover your hands in some 300 year old soot from one of London’s most infamous historical events.   

And you can handle some of London’s archeological secrets yourself on one of our ‘behind-the-scenes’ tours. This Saturday it’s family friendly – book here!

The Museum’s Archaeological Archive – the LAARC – is currently preparing for its last major volunteer project of the year (blogs to follow shortly). We’re also in the closing stages of our blog series ‘A History of London in 10 Archaeological Objects’. Between now and December I have to cover 500 years of history in four objects. This month it’s C16^th London and the theatre-loving Tudors.

The Tudor period in London’s history sees the continuation of major themes such as increased immigration and an expanding urban population coupled with expansion abroad and growing industry and trade. Whereas the medieval period saw the city’s religious precincts grow, the Tudor period witnesses both the Dissolution of the Monasteries and the reformation of the English Church (1530 – 1570).

One particular feature of this period was the development of London theatre.  Purpose-built playhouses were constructed where the dramas of William Shakespeare (1564-1616) – one of the Elizabethan period’s most famous historical characters – were performed, amongst many others. Our seventh object comes from the Rose theatre, one of London’s six major playhouses.

Playhouses and theatre formed part of London’s growing entrainment venues which also included pleasure gardens, cock-fighting pits, bull- & bear-bating arenas, taverns, alehouses and brothels. Many of these licentious venues and activities had to take place outside of the city. Playhouses were no exception – a law of 1574 forcing playhouses to be built in the suburbs which is exactly where the first purpose-built theatre, called the Theatre, was erected by James Burbage in 1576.

The Rose (1587), Swan (1595), Globe (1599) and Hope (1614) were all built on London’s Southbank. Although the Globe is probably the most well-known due to its modern replication, the Rose is the most important archaeologically as it provided the first full plan of a London Tudor playhouse. Recent excavations in London have also revealed evidence of two other ‘lost’ playhouses: the Theatre and the Curtain, both in Shoreditch. 

So what object to best represent Tudor theatreland in London from our archaeological remains? It was going to be a money-box, used for collecting the playhouse entrance fees (and where we get the term ‘box-office’ from), but one such object has recently had all the limelight having won our Pot Idol competition. So instead, it’s a lump of stone:

Object 7

Tudor (C16^th) Stone Cannon Ball

Sometimes in archaeology the material remains we excavated can seem completely enigmatic. My seventh object has been chosen precisely because of this. Normally this is where the word ‘ritual’ is reeled out by archaeologists – considered to be a one-word term meaning “we don’t know”. I normally expand on this definition to mean: “we don’t know…its function or why it’s here, but it must have had a purpose and we just haven’t worked it out yet”. When originally published, in an award winning monograph, our cannon ball was descried as “although unstratified, its presence on the playhouse site is puzzling.” I’m not suggesting some theatrical ‘cult of the cannon ball’ existed, but sometimes intriguing interpretations are put forward.

Julian Bowsher, MOLA’s theatreland guru, has recently come up with a more plausible explanation for this 4.5kg sphere of stone believing the cannon ball could have been used as an early theatrical ‘special effect’! Rolled along a plank of wood, this would have produced the sound of thunder – perfect for the opening of Macbeth:

“When shall we three meet again, In thunder, lightning, or in rain?”

Other objects have been excavated that pertain to special effects at the Rose playhouse and Julian will hopefully be producing an article on this niche subject in the future.

Next month it’s onto the Stuarts and rather than explore the ambiguous, our object will relate to C17^th London’s most notorious event…

The Museum’s Archaeological Archive – the LAARC – has had an exceptionally busy summer, running a host amazing archaeological events. Still celebrating our 10^th anniversary, we’re now over halfway through our celebratory blog:  ‘A History of London in 10 Archaeological objects’.

We’ve now jumped several centuries forward from the Late Saxon to the Late Medieval Period. Once again I have the tricky task of summing up an entire epoch – almost 500 years conveniently known as the Middle Ages – through one object.

The Early and Late Medieval periods of London are dominated by major themes and events of the period including e.g. the Peasant’s Revolt, Crusades and Black Death, set against urban population growth and decline, mirroring diversified trade and industry expansion. The theme of religion would have been an obvious choice and pilgrim badges a very suitable object. Thomas Becket (London’s unofficial patron saint of the period) is a well known figure and many badges depicting his image have been recovered from urban waterfront excavations:

However, we already have a number of metal objects in the top 10, and a variety of other materials survive archeologically and need to be represented. If you’re a fan of pilgrim badges though, the Museum’s core collection will soon be available to peruse online.

My sixth object has been chosen to explore the theme of ‘power and fashion’. Found in relation to a castle (what could be more iconic of the medieval period!) it is perhaps unusual as an archaeological object, in being able to tell us something of London’s ruling elite.

Object 6

Medieval (Late C14^th) Leather ‘Poulaine’ Shoe

This leather shoe is some 600 years old and forms part of a group of shoes excavated from the site known as Baynard’s castle (sitecode BC72), excavated during the early 1970s. Baynard’s castle is perhaps the lesser known of the three Norman London castles after the Tower of London (established 1066) and Montfichet’s Castle (by 1136). Baynard’s has a rich history as both a castle owned by the Duke of Gloucester and, after 1446, the crown when it became a royal palace.

Found in dumps of rubbish of a C14^th public harbour called East Watergate, our medieval shoe is extremely interesting both in itself and as part of a larger assemblage of 416 other shoes which form the “largest and one of the best preserved group of footwear ever to have been recovered from a London site”!

This particular example is exceptional for its decorative, scored lines and suede finish.  It would originally have had a pointy end; known as a ‘poulaine’, ‘Crakow’ or ‘pike’ of which the style became popular from the late C14^th. A high percentage of the assemblage from the Baynard’s castle site are poulaine shoes, which is at odds with other assemblages excavated in London. Their impracticability is one aspect that defines them a status symbol of the time. Edward IV in the later C15^th enacted sumptuary legislation restricting pointy shoes to the aristocracy (3 Edw iv c.5):

“no Knight under the State of a Lord, Esquire, Gentleman, nor other Person shall use or nor wear…any Shoes or Boots having pikes passing the Length of Two Inches…” 

The entire assemblage of shoes from this rubbish dump show little wear and we may suggest that they come from the castle itself or perhaps even the King’s Great Wardrobe. The Wardrobe’s main function was to source material and supply dress for royalty and was located just north of the castle, within the Ward, and is contemporary with this archaeology.

But why is the end of our poulaine cut off? Perhaps the shoe was remodelled to fit a new owner’s feet, although the sole of the shoe has not been that worn which suggests little actual use and, importantly, reuse before being disposed of. One curator at the museum prefers to think of a noble’s  spurned wife committing the modern act of shirt-slashing…

The LAARC stores hundreds of leather shoes from all periods and they are an evocative object as we can easily connect with their use. Unlike much of London’s archaeology that usually presents a picture of the everyday (and more menial) life, I hope this object stands out as perhaps having been worn by one of London’s wealthiest and most powerful figures of the time.

With newly awarded funding from Arts Council England, the Museums’ Archaeological Archive has stormed ahead with its programme of ‘opening-up’ our collections of London’s archaeology. So far this year the Archive team have engaged over 21,500 people directly with our artefacts, either in the Archive, at the Museum, or outs and abouts in the London metropolis. After a manic summer of archaeological events, we thought it was time for a quick catch up!

FOBA Finale

Collections Manager Glynn updates us on our first ‘outer borough’ project:

Our first new project, made possible with ACE funding, allowed us to transport our highly successful volunteer project from the Archive and take up residence in a London borough, taking local archaeology back to its source of excavation. Our first lucky borough was Hounslow. Over 5 weeks a diverse team of volunteers were trained in handling, sorting, documenting, identifying and repacking archaeological collections, excavated from the local area (Brentford High Street), albeit it some time ago (1977).

The culmination of this project was for our volunteer team to share what they had learnt with the greater community. In partnership with Gunnersbury Park Museum, our volunteers engaged with over 450 people as part of the Festival of British Archaeology!

Our team performed amazingly, and the museum staff were mightily impressed at the their ability to engage the public and their level of knowledge.

VIP ‘minis’

Collections Manager Lucy updates us on our new VIP ‘mini’ projects, designed to engage the Archive with new audiences:

The first of our ‘mini’ Volunteer Inclusion Projects launched this summer at the archaeological archive. They build on the success of our ten week VIP projects but allow us to work with groups of people from organisations for whom the format of our current programme is a potential barrier.

The three groups we’ve had the pleasure of working with have all contributed to the design of the project content too.

For some, the aim was to get through as much material as possible. Our volunteers from the National Autistic Society re-packed a phenomenal number of boxes of pottery and building material from a major site called GPO75.

For others, it was all about seeing as wide a range of objects as possible. They really got into exploring assemblages of animal bone, including comparing and contrasting with our human skeleton model.

Our final group from St Mungo’s is still in progress. They’re considering making creative responses to the archaeology using digital photographs – pictures of the results to follow…

Working with these groups has made for a varied and exciting summer. The response from volunteers has been great and we’re looking forward to further developing different ‘miniature’ projects that ‘open up’ our collections in new ways.

Community Excavation

Archive Learning Manager Kath blasts us with figures about this year’s community excavation at Syon Park in west London:

After meeting over 300 children, almost 240 adults, finding 90 bags of finds, recording over 60 new archaeological contexts…

… recruiting 23 volunteers, 11 members of staff, after 10 months of planning, on-site for 6 weeks, with 4 portaloos and 3 portakabins and one final open day…

… we found Sir Richard Wynn’s house just in time!*

*The cellar floor and wall of the post medieval house was, in true archaeological fashion, found in the last few days of the excavation!

But the work doesn’t end there. Bob, our expert MOLA archaeologist is busy checking all of the paper records to write the archaeological report. We have sorted, bagged, labelled and boxed the majority of the finds, which have now made their way back to the LAARC for storage and access.

The group of finds we are most excited about is the building material (from the cellar and from the rubble layers); we are waiting for a specialist to look through the collection of brick, plaster, mortar and tile to confirm the connection between the material and that lovely image of Little Syon.

So hopefully more news to follow later this year – keep your eyes peeled! But until then, a huge thank you to everyone that has been part of the project so far, from the staff at Syon Park to all those who participated or who visited us!

So what’s next for LAARC?

Lastly, Collections Manager Adam gives us a tantalising taster of what’s in store for the Archive:

Well, for starters we’ll be returning to the Archive for a 10 week project that will revert to our classic format of involving volunteers, working on collections to improve the way they’re stored and accessed. Our projects always let us rediscover forgotten beauties that lie within our boxes and we’ll be highlighting the best of these each week on the blog.

We’re also thoroughly pleased to announce we’ll be working once more with volunteers from the University of the 3^rd Age. 

This will be the sixth consecutive year that they’ll be joining us for a shared learning project and the focus this time will be to train the guys up with both collections care knowledge and skills in public engagement. Come November, our septet will be based in the galleries at the Museum of London sharing archaeology with visitors!

Looking forward to 2013, we’ll be on the road again heading to two more outer boroughs of London. Similar to the excellent work that took place in Hounslow this summer, we’re intending to once again inspire communities to engage with their local heritage.

In the meantime, from August onwards, you and your family can become archaeological detectives at the Archive yourselves.

Keep track with all our activities, here on the blog or via Twitter #LAARC

Romani ite Domum

The LAARC is now over halfway through its first ‘outer borough’ project. Last week our volunteers tackled those ‘no good’ Romans. Why precisely the small piece of Roman pottery above was labelled ‘no good’ we have no idea. Perhaps, again, an example of the strange humour that pervades archaeologists! For one thing, this piece did have its all important context number i.e. its recorded location in the ground.

Our volunteers undertook the herculean task of separating huge amounts of Roman pottery sherds by their sitecode, context number, phase number and finds number. Some of this information is now outdated in regards to current archaeological practice, as we’re working on quite an old excavation: BRE77. However, the sherds required sorting this way in order for the material to match their deposited records, also stored at the Museum’s Archaeological Archive.

Although much of this Roman pottery is intrinsically interesting, the physical archaeological of the site only makes sense when compared with the site records. Saying that, the original records, held at the LAARC, aren’t always the easiest to interpret (see below).

Pottery is one of the most important object assemblages from any archaeological site, as it’s our principle (and cheapest) dating tool. The records above show the process of trying to phase site BRE77’s Roman stratigraphy, utilizing the identified pottery. Our volunteers have excelled at turning this site archive into a fully accessible resource.

In the afternoon our volunteers participated in the Museum of London’s community excavation at Syon Park. Attempting to locate the remains of the property known as ‘Little Syon’ this gave a great opportunity for our volunteers to understand the importance of objects in regards to excavated features.

By the end of the day we had failed to discover the remains of Sir Richard Wynn’s house, but the hard work of those on next week’s training excavation may prove more fruitful!

‘Connecting our community’

Week 4 of our project and we returned to processing the post-medieval pottery from the Brentford ’77 site archive. Our volunteer teams have achieved far more than we predicated and the pottery has almost been completed!

Amongst the piles of post-medieval London redware pottery, some interesting artefacts were found including a group of contemporary wall tiles. A mystery object for the week is the tin-glazed tile below. Depicting an angel at a brazier, we’ve got an idea as to what the biblical scene might be, but we’re welcoming further suggestions! The tile itself dates to the early to mid C18^th and may be London (/English) made, although we can’t rule out the possibility of it being a Dutch import.

The main focus of the project this week was to get our volunteers thinking about how they could engage a public audience with their new-found knowledge of Brentford’s hidden history. This we did with an activity the LAARC likes to call ‘object dissection’ – to show our volunteers that, perhaps unwittingly, they’re already learnt a huge amount about London’s archaeology. 

And so in the afternoon, we moved into the Docking Station proper. Our volunteers were on full display to Brentford High Street’s passing traffic and despite the rain, engaged with a range of people over the two days.

In order to build extra interest, Collections Managers Lucy and Glynn were in the local Morrison’s on Thursday, engaging shoppers with both the C18^th Pipe Kiln that was excavated in the supermarket’s car park and objects associated with  the  ancient Roman road, literally under our feet.

Next week our volunteers will be in the Docking Station all day, where anyone can drop in and engage with our archaeology first hand and see what the teams are repackaging from Brentford’s depths.

“A custome lothsome to the eye, hatefull to the Nose…”

The second week of the LAARC’s pioneering outer borough VIP project saw our volunteers tackle a host of clay tobacco pipes. Although ‘counterblasted’ as early as 1604 by King James I, these artefacts are ubiquitous to London’s post-medieval stratigraphy, having been smoked in their thousands by Londoners since the late C16^th.

Each week our Hounslow volunteers are tackling archive material from an excavation on Brentford High Street in 1977. When excavated, this site produced an amazing archaeological discovery: the foundations of an C18^th clay tobacco pipe kiln – only one of a few number excavated in Britain. The kiln belonged to one William Heath of Brentford and operated for c.40 years, supplying the local area with tobacco pipes.

King James I described the smoking habit as “a custom loathsome to the eye, hateful to the nose, harmful to the brain, dangerous to the lungs, and in the black stinking fume thereof nearest resembling the horrible stygian smoke of the pit that is bottomless.” However, Brentford was infamous for its pubs where these clay pipes would have been bought, smoked and disposed of in their hundreds.

Our volunteers had the Sisyphean task of analysing each individual tobacco pipe to check its sitecode and context number, in addition to whether a maker’s mark was present on the heel.

Over two days our team of volunteers registered over 200 individual pipes with such marks and bagged literally hundreds of tobacco pipe stems and pipe bowls, designated as general finds.

After a morning of meticulous sorting, we then made the long trek into central London to visit the Museum of London’s Archaeological Archive, where the material is normally stored, but represents a drop in the ocean amongst the 8, 500 other site archives that occupy 11km of shelving.

Collections Manager’s Glynn and Lucy lined up a tour of the Archive, including a visit to MOLA’s finds processing area, to get a better idea of how archaeological material is treated pre-deposition by archaeological units.

Finally MOLA ceramic specialist Jacqui Pearce – the expert in clay tobacco pipes – ran an excellent workshop, engaging our volunteers with dating and typifying these objects, as well as their history of use and archaeological study. We even got to look at a host of intricately decorated pipes, some only recently returned to the LAARC after a long term-loan to Liverpool.

Now experts in these artefacts, our volunteers will be able to answer all your questions at Gunnersbury Park Museum, where they will be running (with a little help from LAARC) a day of archaeological events for the Festival of British Archaeology on Sunday 22^nd July.

But before then it’s more finds repackaging, and a little bit of digging at Syon Park next week!

After a slight hiatus, the LAARC’s ‘A history of London in 10 Archaeological objects’ is back, and what better timing than on the Day of Archaeology! Half way through our history of London and we’ve now moved into another transitional period. From 842 AD Lundenwic (the Anlgo-Saxon settlement west of the abandoned Roman city, Londinium) came under successive attacks from Scandinavian/Viking raiders. King Alfred the Great (849 – 899) ordered the settlement back within the old Roman walls, and here our archaeological record within the city of London resumes…

‘Viking’ objects are rare in London’s archaeological record by comparison, but a number of artefacts have been discovered in the river Thames. A group of such objects have recently returned to the Museum from loan to the JORVIK Viking Centre in York.

My fifth object isn’t just representative of this chaotic period in London’s history but connected with a major London monument synonymous with the city – London Bridge. It once again asks us to question our literary sources (much like our Roman object did) in how myth, legend and history are created and then challenged or even perpetuated  by archaeology.

Object 5

Saxo-Norman/Viking (C11^th) Iron & Copper alloy Battle Axe

What could be more representative of the Vikings than the battle axe? This particular axe was dredged from the Thames in the 1920s near London bridge and forms part of a Viking artefact assemblage including seven other axe heads, spear heads and a grappling iron and tongs. It has been suggested that the axe may have been deposited in the Thames (similar to our Iron Age dagger) as they were highly symbolic weapons, as well as being extremely practical. But this particular group may also allude to the legendary attack on London Bridge by Óláfr Haraldsson in 1014.

The first evidence for the existence of London Bridge after the destruction of its Roman forbear is in c.1000 AD. Archaeological timbers of the first Saxo-Norman bridge have been discovered and dated to 987 – 1032 through dendrochronology. The attacks on London Bridge by Viking mercenaries were previously thought to have inspired the English nursery rhyme ‘London Bridge is falling down’. However, this has been debunked by the Museum of London’s Curator Emeritus John Clark as a folk memory. 

The literary source of this attack is recorded by the Icelandic historian Snorri Sturluson in the Heimskringla of c.1230. Sturluson is actually quoting another Icelander, the court poet Ottarr Svarti (Ottarr the Black):

Yet you broke [destroyed] the bridge[s] of London,

Stout-hearted warrior,

You succeeded in conquering the land.

Iron swords made headway

Strongly urged to conflict;

Ancient shields were broken,

Battle’s fury mounted.

Despite the disassociation of this legend with the Bridge’s famous nursery rhyme, Bruce Watson & Jan Ragnar Hafland have recently emphasised the importance of manuscripts of skaldic verse, underused by English historians. Although these additional sources corroborate the reality of Óláfr’s assault, our battle axe is perhaps an example of how archaeology can sometimes only perpetuate a legend rather than authenticate it.

All Roads Lead via Brentford

The London Archaeological Archive & Research Centre’s award winning Volunteer Inclusion Programme is back…with a twist.

The LAARC has engaged hundreds of volunteers over the past three years, involving a huge array of people working directly with our archaeological collections. Most recently we took up residence at the Museum of London where we celebrated our 10^th anniversary with 10 weeks of interactive gallery sessions.

Now, with funding from Arts Council England, we’ve expanded our remit even further to include folks from the outer boroughs of London directly in our volunteer projects. First up its Hounslow and for the next 5 weeks we’ll be based in the Docking Station at 108 Brentford High Street.

With inclusion as the focus of our projects, we’ve recruited a diverse, crack team of local volunteers from the borough. These include prospective students of aeronautical engineering, hardened students of (Egyptian) Archaeology, to former forensic detectives and retired curators of beetles, self-proclaimed nerdy biologists and long-time public servants of Hounslow’s libraries. Although a diverse bunch, what they all have in common – whether they’ve excavated in far corners of the earth, or have never seen an archaeological trowel – is that they all have a passion for learning about their borough’s hidden history.

At the heart of all the Archaeological Archive’s volunteer projects is the curatorial work that volunteers undertake on our collections: improving the storage and documentation of our artefacts to help us facilitate research and the promotion of London’s archaeology. The material we’re working on for this project was excavated in 1977 on Brentford High Street – BRE77 – and normally occupies our Archive’s shelves in a bit of a sorry state. Learning how to repackage and document these finds correctly, the state of this site archive will be vastly improved over the next 5 weeks by volunteers.

Before getting their hands on history this week, our volunteers first learnt about Brentford’s history above ground from former Museum of London curator and director of the West London Archaeological Field Group (WLAFG), Jon Cotton. Jon put our site in context of Brentford’s greater historical picture, especially focusing on Brentford’s importance as a Roman settlement. Brentford was a a major juncture before reaching Londinium, on the Silchester Road…little do the shoppers of Morrisons realise what lies beneath their feet!

Our volunteers have already packaged a large amount of Roman pottery from the road’s ditch and copious sherds of post-medieval pottery from the later levels – associated with the Three Feathers public house that used to exist on the site.

This coming week we’re moving onto the repackaging and recording of clay tobacco pipes from the C18^th pipe kiln belonging to William Heath (excavated on the same site) with a specialist guide to identifying these ubiquitous artefacts.