Hey Blog! Last post was about me leading the Beavers’ archaeology session, and this one is also about the same initiative – the Derbyshire Scout Archaeology Badge. But the one I attended last Saturday, I attended as a participant, not a leader. It was with the Youth Committee, which meets twice a year, and at this one we were testing some activities for the upcoming experimental archaeology camp which is happening next summer. So I thought I’d tell you what it was all about!
Experimental archaeology is a particular branch of archaeology where instead of looking backwards from the front end of history to try and find the evidence of what people did in the past, we look forwards from the back of history to try and work out how they did the things they did. For instance, Mr. Future Archaeologist could look at a modern tyre track and go, “Hmmm! They had these round things with patterns on them which they used to transport goods and people! Perhaps the different tyre pattens stood for different tribes! I must make a study of the distribution of tyre tracks, pass me the laser scanner please.” But his colleague might say, “No, prof, these are tyre tracks. They used a substance called rubber to make them, and I haven’t quite worked out the method of production yet. But they didn’t have tribes by the time these were used.” The first would be a field archaeologist, the second an experimental archaeologist. The difference is that the experimental archaeologist experiments to create the historical technique, rather than finding evidence. Next year’s camp will be a chance for us to practice thinking outside the box and rediscover past skills, one of which we had a chance to try on Saturday. This is rope making.
People in the past didn’t have the things which we use to make our lives simpler and more leisurely. Instead of using hot glue, welding, dovetail joints or sticky tape to put things together, they could use a form of glue (made of bones and fish scales, mixed with resin and other substances – sticky, and probably very smelly), or they could tie things together with string (made of sinew, guts, leather, nettle, or tree bark). We know they used these things as we have found the evidence, for example a several thousand year old imprint of a piece of string, which had been dropped on the floor and trodden on, inlaying its trace in the clay for someone in a time beyond their understanding to observe in a cave and realise its significance. We also have their midden heaps, which show they were catching fish with fishing lines as well as traps and spears.
I have told you about my love of knots before. Check my archive for a post on this. I suspect the prehistoric rope makers most likely knew more knots than we do today, and for more purposes – if we had to catch our own dinner, we might know more on this subject! However, it’s rather difficult to make the string to tie the knots with, if you don’t know how it’s done. If you looked at a piece of paracord or yarn, you might realise it’s made of other, finer, threads, but what if you can’t make any thread at all? If you looked under a microscope, you might see tiny fibres running down the fine threads, and if you looked closer still, you might see the individual strands of cellulose molecules which form them. However, you still might not be able to work out how it’s done. To start with, you need a plant.
Nettle, Lime (not the fruit-producing tree, the British kind), Willow, or Wych Elm work well. To start with, take the bark off the trees, and scrape the papery outer bark and the darker green pith off. For nettle, smash the woody bits of the stem and, by cracking and peeling, remove them. For either plant, you should be left with a strip of tough, pale green or yellow sinuous substance, which you bend in the middle, and twist both sides clockwise, a little at a time. The two strands will twist together, forming a single, two-ply thread of various thickness depending on the width of the individual ply. Keep twisting, carefully, and if one end runs out, add a second piece of prepared bark like a splice to make the tread longer. With practice, very fine cord, a millimetre in thickness, can be achieved – this is at least as strong as a comparable cord of modern make, besides lasting for several years of use. It’s quite a handy skill to have, and next time I am stuck with no hope of rescue, a need for a piece of sturdy string, a patch of nettles, and a long time to make things with, I know exactly what to do!
There are other fields of archaeology (pun intended) but experimentation is one of my favourites, as it allows you to reinvent the wheel, almost – except that you didn’t know how the wheel was made in the first place. Actually, how did they invent the wheel, I wonder?!