Wednesday 11 August 2010

Prehistoric Middenshire

Before commencing upon our perambulation with William Thuck, it would perhaps be useful to look at a condensed history of the county.

The 'bare bones' of Middenshire were laid down during the Jurassic period (c. 136-195 million years ago), when local erosion and subsequent deposition created the Kimmeridge Clay Beds. Over the course of time, numerous fluctuations in the sea level resulted in the creation of new overlying strata. However, due to the exposed position of our embryonic shire, these later deposits were almost entirely eroded away, except in the area closest to the Isle of Portland. Major changes to both climate and sea level during the Pleistocene era (about 2 million years ago) resulted in the exposure of the old clays, and thus was born Middenshire as we know it. Once the county was high and dry, the somewhat sluggish currents around its coastline began to lay down the deposits of mud, sand and silt for which Middenshire became famous (or infamous).

Because Middenshire was swallowed up before the advent of archaeology as we know it, it comes as no surprise that details of its prehistoric inhabitants are somewhat sketchy. William Thuck and his university contemporaries did at least attempt to record details of ancient monuments in the shire, but their efforts, although well meaning, were rather unscientific, and in any case virtually all of their papers are now lost. Lemuel Thuck, William's brother, who was given the nickname 'terracotta' by his contemporaries, was also a noted antiquarian, but his talents did not lie in the systematic excavation of graves or other ancient sites. Rather, he would employ local labourers to dig into the centre of burial mounds in the hope of finding gold, jewels, pottery, or any other artefact that would provide an interesting talking point for him and his friends. Sadly, he made no written records of his finds, preferring to leave such technicalities to his brother. Because, once again, these papers are lost, our knowlege of prehistoric Middenshire is reduced almost to zero. But we should not use hindsight as a stick with which to beat Lemuel Thuck. His method was an accepted practice at that time, and it was not until the nineteenth century (and here one calls to mind the excavations of 'Troy' by Schliemann in the 1860's) that those investigating the past discovered the value in minutely recording every find. Those few "facts" (and here I use the word with care) that still survive exist in a small pamphlet, written and published by William Thuck, entitled, 'Homo Brutalis; or ye Rude and Nakyd dwellers of Midenshire; together with an discription of their Religion, customes and tooles.' This apparently authoritative title belies the pamphlet's contents. William has handed down to us a work of almost complete speculation on the lifestyle of Middenshire Man, based on nothing more than the odd bone needle, arrowhead and potsherd. This aside, it is worthy of paraphrasing here as an example of the workings of the seventeenth century mind, if nothing else.

According to William, home would have been a rude hut, constructed of mud and animal dung, and surrounded by a wickerwork fence to contain the inhabitant's herb and vegetable garden. Inside the hut, all furniture was made of pottery, covered with the skins of the Middenshire Vole (their staple diet, eaten raw) for comfort. Thuck says that, despite the weather being much colder in those times, the men and women were not intelligent enough to realise that, by covering their nakedness, they would be warmer. He was sure that they had discovered fire by accident fairly early on, and used it to deter wild beasts from entering their houses and temples. It was not until many thousands of years later that their descendants discovered its additional uses - cooking and warmth. The nakedness of these first Middenites led Thuck to believe that birth rates were very high. As he pointed out,

When menne and women have no cloathes, the which to cover their nakydness with, it doth followe that those lewde passions, which in clothed men are held prisoner, doe rise up in one lackyng ye same.

Although early man in Middenshire did not understand the concept of clothes, he did at least understand the use of tools. Lemuel Thuck excavated huge numbers of bone needles, arrowheads and scrapers, which points to the fact that there was no naturally occurring flint in the shire. A few, rather badly worked flints were found, which shows that here must have been some trade with the rest of the country. One particularly interesting tool, which consisted of an antler with one of the branches sharpened to a point, was probably a pick, or some kind of rudimentary plough. William Thuck described it as a 'Heade opener, an instrument of torture, or of sacrifice, for to make a hole in ye heade.'

Mention of sacrifice brings us to the vexed subject of tribal rituals. Thuck thought that the people must have had some kind of religion, probably revolving around mud worship. He believed that the Mud Monday ceremony (of which more later in this blog) was a kind of race memory of early man's activities, mainly for the purpose of ensuring the fertility of the land, but also to provide some respite for the female tribe members from the incessant demands of their menfolk. He thought the rites probably took place at the summit of one of the shire's barrows (most of which, at that time, would probably not have existed!) and involved human sacrifice.

At sun rise ye inhappetants dyd commence a foule and debauchyd daunce, howlyng and moveing their limbes in a wilde manner. The priest, holdyng a parcell of leaves, beats the folke and singeth the laye of some ungodlie songe. Anon, a sacrifice was chosen who, beyinge anoynted with mudd and stucke about with leaves, was readie for ye seaven folde death. Firstely, he was stranguled by seven ropes about his necke. Secondly, his throte was cutt seven tymes. Nextlie, his head was open'd with the head opener, in seven spotts. Forthlie, he was plounced intoe a brooke or streame as many times. Fifthly, his bellie was ript asunder and the seven vital parts therin pulled forth and et. Sixthlie, his seaven extreames, viz, hys eares, nose, hands and legges, were cutt off. Seventhlie and laste, if the sacrifice dyd still live, hys fundament woulde be stuck with seven arrowes and fired.

Thuck also thought it possible that there was a main place of worship and sacrifice. He had heard of Stonehenge in Wiltshire and, mindful of the fact that Middenshire was somewhat lacking in the Stone Department, put forward the concept of Mudd Henge, a circular temple, constructed of tall pillars of mud, with a kind of sacrificial mud altar or sump in the centre. He believed that the structure would have been aligned to the movements of the heavenly bodies, most likely the sun or moon. One thing he did not consider was that the whole structure, if it ever existed, would have needed rebuilding every few months as the mud pillars, saturated with rainwater, would surely have become excessively glutinous and started to disintegrate.

Time marched on. Britain (and, no doubt, Middenshire) was visited by the Beaker People from central Europe, so named because of the distinctive shape of their drinking vessels. It is likely that these visitors drank a form of ale, made from fermented grain, and could therefore be credited with the invention of the hangover as well as the beer mug. Judging by some of the pottery artefacts sketched by Thuck, it seems that some settled in Middenshire, and probably became the ruling class by dint of their prowess with pottery and metals, especially copper. From these beginnings, the Bronze Age evolved, and a good many items from this period were found in the shire's few round barrows. Thuck had in his possession 'The heade of an axe, wrought of copper and tinne alloyed.' However, when he experimented with this axe and attempted to cut down a small tree in his garden, he noted that 'This nearuppon coste me one of my thumbes, having forgott to move ye same from the pathe of the moveinge blade.'

For the next few hundred years, Middenshire vanished into obscurity, and nothing is known until the arrival of the Romans.

5 comments:

  1. He is a fearless explorer of the past. Puts me in find of Phil from the Time Team. Maybe if the inhabitants of Middenshire had worn stripy jumpers none of this would have happened.

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  2. I think we'd have got on well with our William. Reminds me a bit of John Aubrey. But, as far as I know, stripy jumpers weren't part of the scene then. More soon!

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  3. But perhaps our William isn't the sharpest blade in the box?!

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  5. Ah, Derrick! Don't underestimate our William! He was one of the better-educated Middenites, and, as I said above, reminds me a bit of John Aubrey. However, he was far better organised than Aubrey, and did manage to publish printed editions of his works during his lifetime. Perhaps not surprising, though, given the fact that he was, among other things, a printer!

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