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assemblages no such assertion can be made, and that they either had a different role ... in sorting, related to position along, up and within a beach, is wholly ... archaeologically recovered beach pebbles (Seager Thomas, 2005: 108–10; .... size of the smallest Roman glandes (lead sling-shot) (e.g. Greep, 1987: ...... Page 22 ...
Reassessing Slingstones Mike Seager Thomas Abstract. In southern Britain the traditional identification of sorted flint beach pebbles from archaeological sites as slingstones is widely accepted. Through an examination of the geological and archaeological contexts of slingstones from several well-known southern British sites, including Sussex’s The Caburn and the Wessex hillforts of Danebury and Maiden Castle, the present paper explores the evidence for and against this identification. While acknowledging that some sorted beach pebbles probably were used as slingstones, it is concluded that for many assemblages no such assertion can be made, and that they either had a different role (a list of known uses is given) or comprised incidentally redeposited ‘natural’. It follows that aspects of our understanding of slingstone yielding sites and cultures are flawed. archaeological context; beach pebbles; geological context; hillforts; slingstones

INTRODUCTION British archaeology and particularly the study of archaeological stone is full of the usual interpretative suspects — the ‘pot-boiler’ (Brück, 2006: 304), the 'corn- or cereal grinder' (Lawson, 2000: 130, 263), the ‘slingstone’ (Bowden & McOmish, 1987: 79) and so on. Most of us would now agree that most burnt stones from archaeological sites were not used to heat water in pots and that querns and rubbers could be, and were used for more things than just corn grinding, but the slingstone, as an interpretation for sorted flint beach pebbles is remarkably enduring. But are we right to accept a priori, the traditional interpretation of sorted flint beach pebbles any more that we were to accept the traditional interpretations of burnt stones and querns and rubbers? Could they have had other roles — martial or otherwise — for which they were curated? Or more fundamentally, need they have been curated at all? In this paper I address this issue by reviewing the geological, archaeological and ethnographic evidence upon which the identification of 1

sorted flint beach pebbles as slingstones has been based, and by showing how a critical use of these applied to site assemblages from three British regions (Sussex, Wessex and the north Weald) can qualify our understanding of them (Figure 1). There is no doubt that the world has seen many slingstone using cultures (see Korfmann, 1973; York & York, 2011); and there is every reason to believe that they were used in Britain. Nonetheless for these regions, I conclude that few groups of archaeologically recovered beach pebbles are definitely slingstones, that some are incidentally re-deposited natural, and for those that are not, the evidence that they are something other than slingstones is at least as strong as the evidence that they are. Surely, therefore, it is time we stopped taking this interpretation for granted.

THE SLINGSTONE HYPOTHESIS Slingstones in the UK are identified as such for a combination of, at best, four reasons — they are held to be better sorted than deposits of in situ ‘natural’ water rolled beach pebbles; they occur outside the natural distribution of these, as this is currently established; they appear to occur on site in chronologically and/ or functionally significant loci; and the types of use proposed for them in southern Britain have close ethnographic — mostly Pacific island — analogues. In addition, the use of the sling in antiquity is widely attested to in both classical literature and art (e.g. Hawkins, 1847). This paper considers the first three of these. Stone sorting The natural sorting by size and weight of flint pebbles on British beaches today is impeded by modern sea defences, which inhibit the long-shore movement of stones, and by the deliberate addition of shingle sourced elsewhere, but enough unmodified deposits survive to show that wellsorted beach pebbles are not necessarily artefactual — Dorset’s Chesil Beach is the example par excellence (Carr, 1969). Nonetheless, variation in sorting, related to position along, up and within a beach, is wholly characteristic of natural deposits of beach pebbles (Bird, 1996: 775–6; Komar, 1976: chapter 3), and this has led workers, particularly in Britain, to use sorting as a way of distinguishing between ‘natural’ and curated stones. Thus at Maiden Castle we see ‘selected beach pebbles, their weights ranging from ½ to 2 oz. [c. 14–56 grams], the majority 2

approaching the higher figure’ (Wheeler, 1943: 49) (Figure 2); at St. Catherine’s Hill, Winchester, ‘selected beach pebbles, about the size and shape of pigeon’s eggs’ (Curwen, 1937: 248); at Plumpton Plain in Sussex ‘beach pebbles of sling-stone size’ (Holleyman & Curwen, 1935: 31); at Anstiebury in the Surrey Weald ‘non-local pebbles of hen’s egg size’ (Thompson, 1979: 262); at Wittnauer Horn, Switzerland, ‘carefully selected [in this case, river] pebbles… about the size of a child’s fist’ (Bersu, 1946: 6); while at Danebury, where the weight, size and shape of a group of 1000 stones was compared against that of pebbles from a proximate Tertiary deposit ‘a considerable degree of selection occurred’, most stones falling within ‘the weight range 29.5–109.5 grams’ (Cunliffe, 1984: 425). Reference to sorting occurs again and again in the literature — I have evoked it myself, using it both to rule in (mistakenly I now believe) and to rule out an artefactual interpretation of assemblages of archaeologically recovered beach pebbles (Seager Thomas, 2005: 108–10; 2013: 307). What is important, however, is not sorting per se but sorting by particular weights and shapes. This is highlighted by the frequent reference to rounding and ‘eggs’ in the literature and Sir Mortimer Wheeler’s remark that the majority of stones from Maiden Castle approached ‘the higher figure’. This may reflect prehistoric selection. Sorting them by weight and shape rather than size, the prehistoric curator weeded-out pebbles of irregular and rod shape, which, relative to their weight, have longer axes than round stones of the same weight, and in so doing delimited for us the likely range of uses to which they might usefully have been put. Natural (geological and sedimentological) context The distribution of slingstones from archaeological sites in southern Britain is more or less coterminous with that of naturally occurring flint beach pebbles in the region. Within this distribution, however, are gaps, where natural deposits of flint pebbles are thought not to occur, and deposits, which, owing to their differing geological and geomorphological history, yield groups of stones that are visibly different from each other. The key diagnostic characteristics here are, sorting, shape, interior and exterior colour and lithology. Stones from the aforementioned Chesil Beach for example are less weathered and more uniformly rounded than in situ Tertiary beach pebbles from the Hardy Monument, a few kilometres to the north (Figure 3), while the lithology of beach pebbles from a Tertiary deposit located on Conygar Hill, close to Maiden Castle, is less uniform and their surfaces more deeply weathered than those from 3

the hillfort (Figure 4). Provenancing is complicated, however, by the modification of individual and groups of stones — the inevitable consequence of both deliberate sorting, and also sometimes burial and/ or excavation. Burial environment for example can affect the iron content of flint, changing it chemically, adding it (Figure 2) or removing it altogether, depending on the conditions, while excavation may result in the deliberate (e.g. Bell, 1977: 289) or accidental weeding out of parts of the stone assemblage. Apparently identical pebbles also occur in quite different places. We see this both when they have been subject to similar processes and when they have been recycled from one environment into another. (Tertiary pebbles for example frequently occur amongst river gravels and on later beaches — Gibbard, 1986: 143). Finally — a recurrent problem with geological provenancing — our knowledge of the geological record and the processes to which it has been subjected is in fact very hazy, and in many cases not up to the needs of archaeological provenancing. Thus at best most stones can usually only be identified to facies — an active beach deposit (Maiden Castle), a river (Wittnauer Horn), the Clay-withflints (the Caburn) — not a specific location. Intra-site context The contextual evidence in favour of the slingstone hypothesis has two strands, one spatial and the other chronological. By placing slingstones in particular places and periods and not others, the distribution of individual, groups and concentrations of slingstones shows them, on the one hand, to be curated, and on the other, to be associated with a restricted range of site functions — in the case of the hillfort, defence. Examples of slingstones from defended sites, frequently on, against or close to their ramparts, come from all over Europe — Dívcí Kámen in the Czech Republic (Coles & Harding, 1979: 36), Kercaradec in northwestern France (Wheeler & Richardson, 1957: 56, pl. 25), Wittnauer Horn in the Swiss Jura (Bersu, 1946: 6), Poggio Civitate in Tuscany (Nielsen, 1991: fig. 4), Panormos and Kastri in the Cycladic Islands (Broodbank, 2000: 340; Doumas, 1990: 90), The Caburn and Hollingbury Camp in Sussex (Holmes, 1984: 41) etc. (Figure 5). Most compelling amongst these are the huge caches from the Wessex hillforts of Maiden Castle and Danebury, associated with the multivallate defences of the later Iron Age, over which it is believed they were cast. For the former the situation was summed-up as follows: ‘…all the numerous hoards of slingstones are subsequent to the arrival of the B culture. A colossal hoard… was assembled in readiness beside the eastern gateway in its 4

Iron Age B phase, and three hoards lay on the inner slope of the middle outwork of the eastern entrance in this phase — near the fighting platforms already described. On the aggregate, the proportion of slingstones in the A period shrinks into insignificance. Some type of sling was known to the A folk; but to the B folk the use of the sling was a matter of routine’ (Wheeler, 1943: 49). Ethnography The use of the sling, if not ubiquitous, is known from cultures around the world. The story of David and Goliath is one of the founding legends of Western civilization, while the presence of the sling both in South America and the islands of the Pacific provides support for one of the 20th-century’s more far-reaching diffusionist theories (Heyerdahl, 1952: 664, 696). There is nothing inherently implausible therefore in the idea that the prehistoric people of Britain adopted the sling. There is, however, no single parallel for its proposed use here. Instead, different aspects are drawn piecemeal from a range of different, mostly Pacific cultures (Table 1). The viability of the sling in the context of a hillfort has been established through observations of the distance stones can be thrown by present-day Peruvian slingers (Brown Vega & Craig, 2009). The use of unaltered water-rolled pebbles, in some cases similar in size to some southern British slingstones, is established by their use in Samoa, the Marquesas Islands, New Guinea, New Britain and much of South America (Buck, 1930: 609; Linton, 1923: 389; Monckton, 1921: 38; Mulloy, 1965: 58; Parkinson, 2010 [1907]: 99, 127). The wider martial context is established by reports of massed slingers showering their opponents with stones (e.g. in the Cook Islands — Buck, 1938: 108), by their casting from towers/ platforms analogous to those thought to flank the gates of hillforts in New Guinea and the Cook Islands (Buck, 1938: 108; Monckton, 1921: 38–9), and by caches of stones inside Polynesian fortifications, which are attested to in the Marquesas and elsewhere, and in those of various pre-Hispanic South American cultures (e.g. Oliver, 2002: 152; Topic & Topic, 1987: 48–9). None of these of course proves slingstones were used in Britain. But they provide a coherent and plausible framework of established slingstone use in which to place the foregoing evidence, and in so doing add considerable weight to the arguments advanced in favour of it.

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THE CASE AGAINST SLINGSTONES I have reviewed data from three southern British regions: the Sussex Downs, where some of the slingstone hypothesis’s earliest seeds were sowed (at the Caburn hillfort), and where beach pebbles are widely reported from — although not particularly visible in — the Clay-with-flints overlying the Chalk, and a small number of Tertiary deposits; Wessex, whose downland hillforts (Danebury and Maiden Castle) have yielded the biggest caches of slingstones, and are close to well known, very visible Tertiary pebble beds (in Herewood Forest and on the Dorset Ridgeway, respectively); and the North Weald, where slingstones have been recovered from sites on the Lower Greensand, located at some distance from the nearest known source of naturally occurring beach pebbles (in Tertiary beds on the North Downs). On the basis of this review, I contend that many recovered slingstones from these regions are nothing of the sort. Neither the case for, nor the case against them, however, is without difficulty. For example, while it is easy to demonstrate that a group of beach pebbles is or is not well-sorted, and thus perhaps curated, sorting per se is not in fact a prerequisite for effective slinging (Brown Vega & Craig, 2009); rather, it is necessary for us to show that assemblages incorporate stones that fall inside or outside a range attested as effective for slinging in the ethno-historical record — between about 28 grams, the size of the smallest Roman glandes (lead sling-shot) (e.g. Greep, 1987: 183), and just under a kilogram (2 lbs), attested for slingstones in Tahiti by the first western navigator to reach that island (Captain Wallis in Hawkesworth, 1773: 445). Secondly, owing to our incomplete knowledge of the Tertiary geology of these regions (Maiden Castle is unhelpfully recorded on the geological maps of the region as ‘made ground’), we cannot always demonstrate whether stones have been imported onto a site or not. Thirdly, beach pebbles are intrinsically undateable and we have to be very cautious in interpreting their final archaeological relationships. Finally, the process of excavation has destroyed the features from which these stones were recovered and it is often necessary to reconstruct their associations — feature, sedimentological, artefactual — from what is a very incomplete record. For some assemblages from these regions the available evidence is so equivocal that it is impossible categorically to rule in or rule out an artefactual interpretation for them. Nonetheless, the evidence against their identification as slingstones is compelling, certainly enough to raise a 'reasonable doubt', and — in my view — enough validly to challenge 6

the established orthodoxy elaborated above. In particular the geological and sedimentological evidence for curation is often unsustainable — few groups are demonstrably foreign to the sites from which they were recovered (this is particularly true for Sussex), and/ or 'unnaturally' sorted, with many stones at the lower end or falling outside of the size range attested in the ethno-historical record as effective for slinging (table 1). The use made of contextual evidence moreover has been highly tendentious, with aspects of it that advance the case for slingstones emphasized, and alternative but equally plausible artefactual and natural explanations ignored. Where, for example, there is good distributional evidence, it is often as consistent with a ‘natural’, interpretation as an archaeological one, and in quite a number of cases very much favours the former over the latter. The observation that concentrations occur on one part of a site and not another (e.g. Figure 5), is a case in point, for while possibly indicative of an anthropogenic distribution, it is no less what would be expected of discrete in situ natural deposits. In analysing archaeologically recovered stone, it should not be forgotten that there are geological as well as archaeological catchments! Likewise it is a matter of geomorphological fact that shingle beaches — active and fossil alike — are often clast-supported (Figure 6); and that whatever the agent, the movement of sediments will sort the different size fractions comprising them. Excavators also consistently ignore their slingstones' many non-martial associations (Tables 2 & 3) and the huge range of civil roles unrelated to slinging for which beach pebbles might have been curated, which could have come and gone over time, and which would explain their ultimate deposition in the many, very different contexts from which they have been recovered.

The Caburn and sites on and near the Sussex Downs In a classic description of slingstones pre-dating Wheeler’s Maiden Castle report by 15 years, Elliot and E. Cecil Curwen, who excavated on the Caburn hillfort in the 1920s, wrote of the 570 recovered by them, ‘… of the five pits in which stones were plentiful, four are situated close to the gate of the camp. Most of the stones were very much the same size… These stones have been brought up to the site from some place on the seashore. The shortest distance from the Caburn to the sea is about 6 miles [c. 10 km]’ (Curwen & Curwen, 1927: 20–1) (see Figure 5). Since then the archaeological record from the Sussex Downs has been strewn with slingstones — many slung by the younger (E.C.) Curwen. Many of 7

these are described as sorted (e.g. Burstow & Holleyman, 1957: 176; Parsons & Curwen, 1933: 170), attributed to a source off site, either the seashore (Holden, 1972: 91) or — in one case — a known off-site terrestrial deposit (Curwen & Williamson, 1931: 30), or associated with a rampart (Holmes, 1984). Of these, however, the most convincing are from the Trundle hillfort, where they were recovered from Iron Age pits but not from the ditches of a Neolithic causewayed enclosure underlying them (Curwen & Williamson, 1931: 30), the implication being that in Sussex the sling was not adopted till after the close of the Neolithic. For most Sussex sites, however, the evidence does not hold up to close scrutiny. To begin with there is little sedimentological evidence for curation. The sorting by both size and weight of beach pebbles from the Caburn is similar to that on active beaches in the region (Figure 7). Of the 21 from the most recent excavations on the site (Drewett & Hamilton, 1999), the smallest, with a long axis of 27 mm, weighs only 13 grams, while the largest, with a long axis of 52 mm, weighs 81 grams — six times the weight. Of these, close to 30% fall at or below the lower limit attested as effective for slinging in the ethno-historical record (Table 1), while at only 41 grams, the average weight lies close to it. Nor were they imported onto the site — at least not from the seashore. Rather they are Tertiary flints of a type (described in Lake, et al. 1987: 77) associated locally with the Clay-with-flints (Figure 8), which though not now obviously present on the Caburn, caps the Upper Chalk across the county, including all the other hillforts from which slingstones have been recovered.1 Nor at the Caburn was there anything particularly martial about their distribution. Beach pebbles have been found close to the gate but during the most recent excavations, they were also recovered from a superficial midden of Early Iron Age date, the body of the Middle Iron Age rampart, a pit of Late Iron Age/ Early Roman date, and an undated possible lynchet; while those from earlier excavations are mostly from Iron Age and undated pits, which in only five cases yielded more than a handful of stones (and even then a fraction of the number comprising many Wessex caches). From the county as a whole they have been recognized on sites of a variety of types and dates — on house floors and trackways, which have yielded the largest caches, in pits, ditches and middens, and in broad association with a wide range of artefact types (Table 2). Clay-with-flints does not appear on geology maps showing the Trundle, but it is clearly visible in earthen exposures across the site. 1

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Of these only three groups — all currently unpublished — are convincingly artefactual. The first consists of 21 stones, recovered from open marshland, where they were scattered between the peat adjacent to a Late Bronze Age platform, and the waterlain silts overlying it. These stones, 10% of which fell at or below the lower limit attested as effective for slinging in the ethno-historical record, could not have reached the marsh naturally. Possibly they are slingstones (used for fowling perhaps) but there are other possible interpretations — one, for example, had formerly been used as a hammerstone. The second comes from an Iron Age pit complex on the Lower Chalk, in front of the Downs proper. The largest group from this site (>1000) came from the surface of a track. These were not measured but a group of 26 forming a discrete layer in a nearby pit was found to incorporate a similarly low proportion of small stones (11%; average weight 45 grams). The use of these stones on the track is clearly deliberate, but whether this was their primary role or they were reused after going out of use in another role cannot be established with certainty. Tertiary beach pebbles are not recorded on the Lower Chalk locally. The last, consisting of 2000-odd stones, comes from the rear of an Early–Middle Iron Age house located on the Upper Chalk, where it comprised a clast-supported layer of up to four stones thick (Figure 9). Almost all fall between 30 and 90 grams, and thus within the range attested as effective for slinging in the ethnohistorical record, their weight range falling off much more quickly than that of quantified natural deposits detailed in Figure 7. 20-odd trenches were dug in the vicinity, including several in Clay-with-flints upslope of the house, but only that straddling the house yielded beach pebbles, strongly suggesting that those found were imported onto the site (M. Roberts pers. comm.). Their use is currently unknown. Danebury The possibility that Danebury’s slingstones derive from an unidentified Tertiary deposit on site is acknowledged in the published report and their identification as slingstones rests upon their sorting, elaborated in detail by C. Everard (1984), and their on-site distribution, which was focused on late contexts, notably in and around the site’s entrance: 'That many of the pits in the vicinity of the gate contained quantities, and that several thousand were found in the excavation of the east entrance, particularly along the flank of the north inner hornwork, strongly suggests that pebbles were used as missiles for defensive purposes' (Cunliffe, 1984: 425). Slingstones were also not reported from contexts within the rampart. The evidence, however, is by no means conclusive. 9

That the stones were deliberately sorted can be challenged on three counts. Firstly, the report stated merely that ‘the vast majority of Danebury stones fall within the weight range 29.5–109.5 grams’ [my italics]. Others fell outside this range. Secondly, such a range is both different from and wider than that observed by Wheeler at Maiden Castle, suggesting the possibility — as Cunliffe acknowledged — that they were used in a different way, or that they were used for a different thing altogether. Finally, the stones against which those from Danebury were measured (from a Tertiary deposit in Harewood Forest, 8 km from the hillfort), are unusually poorly sorted, and suggest a much greater degree of sorting than would comparisons with stones from, say, Chesil Beach. The most conclusive evidence against their interpretation as slingstones, however, is their irrecoverability. ‘One massive group of 11,300,’ for example, ‘occurred in P911 throughout the fill, though concentrating in some layers more than others and more densely towards the pit sides’ (Poole, 1995: 262). The fact that these stones were variably mixed with earthen and/ or other clastic material shows that they were not slingstones awaiting use. Possibly they are a ritual deposit, their distribution the result of deliberate structuring (ibid.), but to a sedimentologist the description cries out that their deposition was incidental to the backfilling of the pit, and not a deliberate act of curation. Whether they derived directly from a previously undisturbed Tertiary deposit, a cache of slingstones that was no longer needed, or another type of artefact altogether cannot be known. Pit 911 was located just inside the main gate and specifically mentioned by Cunliffe (1984: 425) in his discussion of beach pebbles as slingstones. Maiden Castle Wheeler’s interpretation rests on the sorting of slingstones on site, the origins of these, their apparent concentration close to the hillfort’s defences, and a restricted time-span for them coinciding with its final, developing phase. Slingstones once again were not reported from contexts within the rampart. As noted above, this remains good up to a point — in particular, many of the beach pebbles are apparently imported, while the caches to the rear of the rampart have close analogues in the record from South America, where we know the sling to have been used militarily. Excavations by Niall Sharples, however, extended the size range of 10

the stones recovered from the site (Laws, 1991: 232), showing them to be less well-sorted overall than Wheeler believed them to be, while, once again, the range of stone sizes present spans the lower limit attested as effective for slinging in the ethno-historical record. I would also argue that the presence of a Tertiary pebble bed on Conygar Hill, which yields similar if not identical stones to Maiden Castle (Figures 3–4), at a similar elevation to, and just 2½ kilometres away from the principal finds of beach pebbles on Maiden Castle, strongly suggests the possibility of a ‘natural’ source on the hillfort as well. Some stones from the site might therefore be natural (Fig. 2?). Moreover, Sharples agreed that slingstones were put beyond use, identified sizeable caches far from the hillfort entrance, and — importantly — challenged the immediate chronological relationship between them and the extended fort (Sharples, 1991: 63–4, 243, 261). Finally, features to have yielded slingstones include a hut floor, where they were associated with domestic and industrial waste (Wheeler, 1943: 55–6), two graves in the ‘military cemetery’ (Redfern, 2009: 415; Wheeler, 1943: 348), and the base of a hearth (Sharples, 1991: 88) — not perhaps what would to be expected of an import that had to be carted 8 or more kilometres to the site, but very much what would be of something freely available locally. By the time these were deposited they certainly were not slingstones. The Wealden hillforts of Anstiebury, Holmbury and Hascombe The identification of slingstones at Anstiebury, Holmbury and Hascombe is based on sorting and provenance, the nearest known pebble beds being on the North Downs (in the Netley/ Ranmore area), roughly 6 kilometres from Anstiebury and Holmbury and 15 from Hascombe (Thompson, 1979: 258, 262). It must also be acknowledged that, with the exception of Farley Heath Roman and Iron Age temple, also on the Lower Greensand, slingstones are not widely reported from sites of other dates and types in Surrey. The appeal to sorting per se can be dismissed at once: the stones from all three, far from being uniformly ‘hen’s egg size’, as they were portrayed by their most recent excavator, F.H. Thompson, are probably the least well sorted of the excavated groups discussed here. The smallest unbroken stone from Hascombe, weighs 15 grams, and the largest (excluding a distinct water-rolled nodule of large cobble-size) nearly 300 (cf. Winbolt, 1932: 90, pl. 18.5–6); and while average stone weight is higher than in the Caburn assemblage, the number of context groups that 11

yielded stones at or below the weight range attested as effective for slinging in the ethno-historical record is striking — 27% for Anstiebury (average stone weight: 82 grams), and 45 and 46%, respectively, for Hascombe (average stone weight: 70 grams), and Holmbury (average stone weight: 58 grams). The stones from Anstiebury and Hascombe are from different sources, not the single source proposed by Thompson (Figure 10), while those from Holmbury look like a mixture of the two. Each also contains a complete suite of the stones that would be expected of an in situ ‘natural’ deposit — large ones, small ones, elongated ones, broken ones with weathering rinds across the breaks too profound to have developed since the Iron Age, and joining, frost shattered ones (cf. Figure 6). At Hascombe, finally, they were recovered from nearly every trench excavated, their variable numbers closely reflecting the different sizes of the trenches (Figure 11), from a range of feature types, and in association with most other categories of portable artefact present on site (Table 3). As such they do not sound like curated assemblages. But whether they are or not, and there are perhaps sufficient doubts about how the Weald was formed to allow the latter possibility, the weight of evidence overall remains very much against their interpretation as slingstones. * The most coherent argument made in favour of slingstones for any individual site remains that of Sir Mortimer Wheeler for Maiden Castle, but even here the evidence that they are slingstones, as opposed to some other kind of artefact is wholly circumstantial; and some of this is open to question. In linking his 'fighting platforms' with towers from which slingstones were cast in New Guinea, for example, Wheeler ignored the fact that the stones cast from the latter were considerably heavier than the beach pebbles recovered from the hillfort (450–680 as opposed to 14–56 grams!) (Monckton, 1921: 38–9; Wheeler, 1943: 49–50). Elsewhere we often cannot even prove curation. I suggest that in the absence of evidence, therefore, the interpretation of archaeologically recovered beach pebbles — sorted or otherwise — should be left open, and that generally we should be looking harder for, and stating much more fully, the evidence for and against our interpretations of them, whatever these may be. Key things to consider include sorting, natural and intra-site context, clast-support, lithology, weathering, size range, the fall off in this, and feature and artefactual association. 12

ALTERNATIVE INTERPRETATIONS Finally, to return to my original question, why — assuming they are not incidentally disturbed natural — should we assume a priori that groups of sorted beach pebbles are slingstones, and not some other type of artefact? As Tables 2 and 3 and the various individual examples cited above show, their associations are not exclusively martial, while other uses for sorted stones generally and individual and groups of rounded stones, are widely attested. Thus: The Iranian penal code delimits the size of the stones to be used in stoning to death men and women convicted of adultery — ‘The size of the stone used in stoning shall not be too large to kill the convict by one or two throws and at the same time shall not be too small to be called a stone’ (Book 2, article 104 — Vahdati, 2007). Following Cæsar’s description of the Gauls and Belgae in de bello Gallico (II, 6), Michael Avery (1993), considers beach pebbles to have been thrown (not slung) from outside hillforts to drive their defenders from the ramparts. (In the 1930s, S.E. Winbolt was so struck by the size range of beach pebbles found during his excavations on Wealden hillforts that he divided them between sling and throwing stones — Winbolt, 1932: 90; Winbolt & Margary, 1933). On Rapa Nui (Easter Island) there is a recurrent association of beach pebbles with both prehistoric crematoria and the ramps of ahu, the Island's ceremonial platforms (Hamilton, et al. 2011: 184; Mulloy & Figueroa, 1978: 39). In southern Italy, unsorted fossil beach pebbles are re-deposited as a mulch to inhibit soil erosion and aid water retention. Another, very widespread use is flooring. The floors of Iron Age buildings from Pela in ancient Macedonia to Auchmithie in Scotland (Ralston, 1986: 107) comprised sorted beach pebbles of different sizes, which, if disturbed or re-deposited, need differ little from some of the deposits referred to above. Indeed, the need for stones used for flooring to be well sorted will in most cases have been greater than that of slingstones. As for individual and small groups of stones, these too have many attested everyday uses — burnishing pottery (e.g. Hamilton, 2003: 51; Sparks, 2006), magic (‘power stones’, used in agriculture and child rearing in the highlands of Irian Jaya — Hampton, 1999: 198–9, fig. 4.38), thirst quenching (Pierce, 1933: 174–5), noise making (the Native American 'thunder stone" — Parsons 1939: 378; Woodbury 1954: 172), bolas (Métraux, 1949: 254), counters (the word calculate comes from the Latin calculus, meaning small stone), gaming pieces (Russell 1975: 175; Woodbury 1954: 173), fishnet and other 13

weights (Coles & Coles, 1989: 115–6), hammerstones (the re-used stone from Shinewater Marsh). The list of possibilities goes on and on. Finally, for Maiden Castle and some other sites we might even consider Chris Tilley’s (1999: chapter 6) notion of a Beach in the Sky, in which a fossil pebble bed and the sites located on, and fashioned from it are associated metaphysically with nearby Chesil Beach. The assemblages discussed above may not have been any of these things. In my view, most likely most were ‘natural’. But for those contexts for which this view cannot be sustained, the possibility that individual or groups of beach pebbles were used for one or other is at least as plausible as the slingstone hypothesis. It would be a mistake therefore to ignore it.

HILLFORTS WITHOUT WEAPONS What then are we to make of hillforts without the sling? A definitive answer to this question must await someone more familiar with the Iron Age of southern Britain than I, but, at a time when metal weapons were sparse and hillfort defences were — if Niall Sharples’ revised dating of Maiden Castle is correct — in neglect, it is surely significant to find them stripped of any means of manual defence. Gone is the martial culture evoked by Wheeler. Gone is the conspicuous consumption manifest in the transport of stones over long distances and the burial within hillforts of large caches of them. Gone is the traditional explanation for multivallate defences. Gone too perhaps are the stresses to which these things have hitherto been attributed. But now I am pushing the argument too far…

CONCLUSION Exactly when beach pebbles were first linked with hillforts is impossible to say but the connection goes back at least to William Stukeley who both reported them at South Cadbury and suggested that they were used as slingstones (1776: 150). Since then few have seriously challenged their identification as slingstones. But the evidence behind this identification seldom stands up to close scrutiny and, often it is as much a case of the 14

slingstones providing evidence for a hitherto unrecognized sedimentology, as of sedimentology providing evidence for the use of the sling. In particular, the case made for slingstones at Maiden Castle does not hold up outside Wessex. Is it not time therefore that we stopped accepting it a priori? The answer to this question is a categorical, yes. An interpretation is only as good as the data upon which it is based and, for beach pebbles, many archaeologists have collected, studied and/ or presented only a part of that necessary, with the result that both their identifications and the interpretations based upon them have been seriously flawed. Wherever it comes from, southern Britain or southern Greece, an archaeologically recovered beach pebble is like any other category of find: it is not good enough just to say that it is a slingstone, or that beach pebbles occur everywhere, and that it is therefore ‘natural’, or that because they occur naturally in such and such a place, it too necessarily comes from that place. Like any other category of find its meaning lies not in itself but in its wider sedimentological, geological and archaeological context. Acknowledgments Dr Mary Alexander of Guildford Museum provided access to material from Anstiebury, Hascombe and Holmbury hillforts, Profs Peter Drewett and Sue Hamilton, both then of the Institute of Archaeology, UCL, and Emma O’Connor of Lewes Museum, access to material from The Caburn, and Prof. Hamilton material from Sir Mortimer Wheeler’s excavations at Maiden Castle (in the Institute of Archaeology, UCL, teaching collection). Chris Greatorex allowed me to experiment with a Stone Recording Form on his excavations at St. Anne’s Road, Eastbourne. (Pete Scutt filled the forms in). Mark Roberts provided information on his excavations at Bow Hill, Prof. Niall Sharples on his at Maiden Castle and Prof. Chris Tilley information generated by his East Devon Pebblebeds Project. Many thanks to you all! This paper is dedicated to the late Prof. Peter Drewett, whose recognition of the ubiquity of beach pebbles on the Sussex Downs, prompted the thought and research behind it. Artefact Services, Lower Ground, 12 St. Nicholas Lane, Lewes, East Sussex, BN7 2JY. [email protected] [preferred address for all correspondence] Hon. Research Associate, Institute of Archaeology, UCL, 31–4 Gordon Square, WC1H 0PY. [email protected]

15

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Council for British Archaeology: M12, E4–G8. Greep, S. 1987. Lead Sling-shot from Windridge Farm, St Albans and the use of the sling by the Roman army in Britain. Britannia, 18: 183–200. Greatorex, C. 2003. Living on the margins? The Bronze Age landscape of the Willingdon Levels. In: D. Rudling ed. The Archaeology of Sussex to AD 2000. Kings Lynn: Heritage, pp. 89–100. Gibbard, P. 1986. Flint gravels in the Quaternary of southeast England. In: G. de G. Sieveking & M. Hart eds. The Scientific Study of Flint and Chert. Proceedings of the Fourth International Flint Symposium Held at Brighton Polytechnic 10–15 April 1983. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 141–49. Gifford, E. & Shutler, D. 1956. Archaeological excavations in New Caledonia. Anthropological Records, 18(1). Berkeley: University of California Press. Hamilton, S. 2003. Between ritual and routine: interpreting British prehistoric pottery production and distribution. In: A. Woodward & J. Hill eds. Prehistoric Britain: the Ceramic Basis. Oxford: Oxbow, pp. 38–53. Hamilton, S., Seager Thomas, M. & Whitehouse, R. 2011. Say it with stone: constructing with stones on Easter Island. World Archaeology, 43(2): 167–90. Hampton, O. 1999. Culture of Stone. College Station: Texas University Press. Hassig, R. 1992. War and Society in Mesoamerica. Berkley: University of California Press. Hassig, R. 1995. Aztec Warfare: Imperial Expansion and Political Control. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press. Hawkesworth, J. 1773. An Account of the Voyages Undertaken by the Order of His Present Majesty for Making Discoveries in the Southern Hemisphere, and Successively Performed by Commodore Byron, Captain Carteret, Captain Wallis, and Captain Cook, in the Dolphin, the Swallow, and the Endeavour, volume 1. London. Hawkins, W. 1847. Observations on the use of the sling, as a warlike weapon, among the ancients. Archaeologia, 32: 96–107. Hemming, J. 1993. The Conquest of the Incas, 3rd ed. London: Macmillan. Heyerdahl, T. 1952. American Indians in the Pacific. London: George Allen & Unwin. 18

Holleyman, G. & Curwen, E.C. 1935. Late Bronze Age lynchet-settlements on Plumpton Plain, Sussex. Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society, 1: 16– 38. Holden, E. 1972. A Bronze Age barrow cemetery on Itford Hill, Beddingham. Sussex Archaeological Collections, 110: 70–117. Holmes, J. 1984. Excavations at Hollingbury Camp, Sussex, 1967–9. Sussex Archaeological Collections, 122: 29–53. Korfmann, M. 1973. The sling as a weapon. Scientific American, 229: 34– 42. Lake, R., Young, B., Wood, C. & Mortimore, R. 1987. The Geology of the Country around Lewes. London: British Geological Survey. Laws. K. 1991. The foreign stone. In: N. Sharples. Maiden Castle Excavation and Field Survey, 1985–6. English Heritage Archaeological Report, 19. London: English Heritage, pp. 229–33. Lawson, A. 2000. Potterne 1982–5: Animal Husbandry in Later Prehistoric Wiltshire. Wessex Archaeology Report, 17. Salisbury: Trust for Wessex Archaeology. Liebmann, M. 2010. The battle of Astialakwa: conflict archaeology of the Spanish reconquest in northern New Mexico. SAA Archaeological Record, 10(4): 40–42. Linton, R. 1923. Material Culture of the Marquesas Islands. Memoirs of the Bernice P. Bishop Museum, 8(5). Bishop Museum: Honolulu Loeb, E. 1926. Pomo folkways. University of California Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology, 19(2): 149–405. Métraux, A. 1949. Weapons. In: J. Steward, ed. Handbook of South American Indians, volume 5: The Comparative Ethnology of South American Indians. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin, 143, 229–63. Monckton, C. 1921. Some Experiences of a New Guinea Resident Magistrate. London: John Lane, The Bodley Head. Morrison, J. 1935. The Journal of James Morrison, Boatswain's Mate of the Bounty, Describing the Mutiny & Subsequent Misfortunes of the Mutineers, together with an Account of the Island of Tahiti. London: Golden Cockerel Press. Mulloy, W. 1965. The fortified village of Morongo Uta. In T. Heyerdahl & E. Ferdon Jr, eds. Reports of the Norwegian Archaeological Expedition to Easter Island and the East Pacific, volume 2: Miscellaneous Papers. 19

Monographs of the School of American Research & the Kon Tiki Museum, 24(2). New York: Rand & McNally, pp. 23–68. Mulloy, W. & Figueroa, G. 1978. The A Kivi-Vai Teka Complex and its Relationship to Easter Island Architectural Prehistory. Asian and Pacific Archaeology Series, 8. Honolulu: University of Hawaii at Manoa. Neilsen, E. 1991. Excavations at Poggio Civitate. In: Studi e Materiali. Scienza dall’ Antichità in Toscana, 6, 245–59. Newton, H. 1914. In Far New Guinea. London. Oliver, D. 2002. Polynesia in Early Historic Times. Honolulu: Bess Press. Parkinson, R. 2010 [1907]. Thirty Years in the South Seas: Land and People, Customs and Traditions in the Bismarck Archipelago and on the German Solomon Islands. Sydney: Sydney University Press. Parsons, E. 1939. Pueblo Indian Religion. Chicago: University of Chicago. Parsons, W. & Curwen, E.C. 1933. An agricultural settlement on Charleston Brow, near Firle Beacon. Sussex Archaeological Collections, 74:, 164–80. Pierce, Rev. W. 1933. From... Potlatch to Pulpit. Vancouver: Vancouver Bindery. Poole, C. 1995. Pits and propitiation. In B. Cunliffe. Danebury: an Iron Age Hillfort in Hampshire, volume 6. A Hillfort Community in Perspective. CBA Research Report, 102. London: Council for British Archaeology, pp. 249–75. Porter, D. 1986 [1815]. Journal of a Cruise made to the Pacific Ocean. Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press. Ralston, I. 1986. The Arbroath Antiquary Club's excavations at Castle Rock promontory fort, Auchmithie, Arbroath and Saint Vigeans, Angus District. Proceedings of the Society Antiquraries of Scotland, 116: 101– 15. Redfern, R. 2009. Does cranial trauma provide evidence for projectile weaponry in late Iron Age Dorset? Oxford Journal of Archaeology, 28(4): 399–424. Russell, F.1975 [1908]. The Pima Indians. Tuscon: University of Arizona. Seager Thomas, M. 2005. Understanding Iron Age Norton. Sussex Archaeological Collections, 142: 83–115. Seager Thomas, M. 2013. The stone finds from Late Iron Age and Roman deposits at Brisley Farm. In: J. Stevenson. Living by the Sword: the Archaeology of Brisley Farm, Ashford, Kent. Spoilheap Monograph, 6: pp. 306–10. 20

Sharples, N. 1991. Maiden Castle Excavation and Field Survey, 1985–6. English Heritage Archaeological Report, 19. London: English Heritage. Sparks, R. 2006. Larim burnishing pebble. Southern Sudan Project (in development). Pitt Rivers Museum. [accessed 21 October 2013]. Available at Stukeley, W. 1776. Itninarium Curiosum, 2nd ed. London. Suggs, R. 1961. The Archaeology of Nuka Hiva, Marquesas Islands, French Polynesia. Anthropological Papers of the American Museum of Natural history 49(1). Thompson, F. 1979. Three Surrey hillforts: excavations at Anstiebury, Holmbury and Hascombe, 1972–1977. Antiquaries Journal, 59, 145–318 Tilley, C. 1999. Metaphor and Material Culture. Oxford: Blackwell. Topic, J. & Topic, T. 1987. The archaeological investigation of Andean militarism: some cautionary observations. In: J. Haas, T. Pozorski & S. Pozorski, eds. The Origins and Development of the Andean State. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 47–55. Vahdati, S. (trans.) 2007. Women Living Under Muslim Laws. [Accessed 30 September 2009). Available at Vigors, P. 1888. Slings and slingstones. Journal of the Historical and Archaeological Society of Ireland, series 4, 8(2): 357–66. Webber, E. 1899. The old Kwanthum village, its People and its fall. American Antiquarian and Oriental Journal, 21: 309–14. Wheeler, R. 1943. Maiden Castle, Dorset. Reports to the Research Committee of the Society of Antiquaries, 12. Oxford: Society of Antiquaries. Wheeler, R. & Richardson, K. 1957. Hillforts of Northern France. Reports of the Research Committee of the Society of Antiquaries of London, 19. London: Society of Antiquaries. Winbolt, S. 1932. Excavations at Hascombe Camp, Godalming. Surrey Archaeological Collections, 40: 78–96. Winbolt, S. & Margary, I. 1933. Dry Hill Camp, Lingfield. Surrey Archaeological Collections, 41: 79–92. Wolseley, G. & Smith, R. 1924. Discoveries near Cissbury. Antiquaries Journal, 4: 347–59. 21

Woodbury, R. 1954. Prehistoric Stone Implements of Northeastern Arizona. Reports of the Awatovi Expedition, 6. Papers of the Peabody Museum of American Archaeology and Ethnology, 34. Cambridge MA: Harvard University. https://archive.org/details/prehistoricstone00wood Xerez, F. de. 1534. Verdadera Relacíon de la Conquista del Perú y Provincia del Cuzco. Seville. York, R. & York, G. 2011. Slings and slingstones: the forgotten weapons of Oceania and the Americas. Kent: Kent State University Press.

22

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Figure 1. South central and southeast England. The British regions and hillforts referred to in the text

Figure 2. ‘About the size of a billiard ball...’ Flint beach pebbles from Sir Mortimer (then R.E.M.) Wheeler’s excavations at Maiden Castle. Their surfaces are superficially iron-stained, suggesting a different source to that of the stones shown in Figure 2. Wheeler believed them to be from the beach at Weymouth, the nearest active beach to the site (Wheeler, 1943: 69). Their actual source is currently unknown

Figure 3. Beach pebbles — slingstones — from Niall Sharples’ excavations at Maiden Castle, Dorset. The stones are similar in size and appearance to stones from the Portland end of Chesil Beach, 15 kilometres away (cf. Figure 3). (Photo: Niall Sharples)

Figure 4. Dorset beach pebbles. Fresh flint and (?)chert from Chesil Beach (left), and deeply weathered Tertiary beach material Conygar Hill, close to Maiden Castle (top right), and the Hardy Monument (bottom right). Note the deep patina or weathering-rind on the pebbles from Conygar Hill. This was absent from pebbles from the hillfort examined by the author. Pebbles from fossil beaches are often patinated in this way (see Figures 5, 7, 9 & 11), but may also survive on material recycled into an active beach

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Figure 5. The distribution of beach pebbles on The Caburn. Open dots: pits without stones; small dots: 100. In interpreting these stones as slingstones, Curwen remarked their concentration close to the hillfort entrance (Curwen & Curwen, 1927: 20)

Figure 6. Clast-supported beach pebbles in the Selsey Raised Beach. Note their patina, sorting and in situ frost fracture

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Figure 7. The sorting of beach pebbles from the Caburn compared with that of stones from selected active beaches in southeast England

Figure 8. Flint beach pebbles from Peter Drewett and Sue Hamilton’s (1996) excavations on the Caburn (left) and from ploughsoil just downhill of nearby Lewes racecourse (right). The racecourse group contains more small stones, which, on an archaeological excavation, could easily have been missed; otherwise their sorting is similar. The 1:50000 geology map of the area shows neither Clay-with-flints nor Tertiary geology at either of these two locations

Figure 9. Layer of clast supported flint beach pebbles to the rear of an Iron Age house at Sussex's Goose Hill Camp. Up to four stones deep, it ends in a sharp line several centimetres out from the house terrace — perhaps where it lay against a former wall. The front and sides edges are diffuse. Though well-sorted and mostly well within the range attested as effective for slinging in the ethno-historical record, it nonetheless incorporates some very small stones. It is a cache, however, not a floor (Photo: Mark Roberts)

Figure 10. Flint beach pebbles from Anstiebury (left) and Hascombe hillforts (right). As at Maiden Castle, their different colours suggest that they are from two different sources, not the single source attributed to them by their excavator (Thompson, 1979: 262). Our current understanding of Wealden geology rules out a local source for either and yet these stones display all the characteristics of in situ deposits



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Figure 11. The distribution of beach pebbles on Hascombe hillfort. Open dots: trenches without stones; small dots: 15 stones. The abundance of finds around the entrance should probably be attributed to the much larger size of the trenches excavated in that area.

Table 1. The weight and size of slingstones in the ethno-historical record. The larger stones recorded by Monckton in New Guinea were cast from towers, the smaller stones on the level. Sir Mortimer Wheeler, making the case for slingstones at Maiden Castle, ignored this distinction. Slingstones from Marquesan and South American hillforts (often comprising imported water-rolled stones) tend likewise to be bigger than those from British hillforts (67–97mm in Nuku Hiva and c. 100 mm across in Peru — Suggs 1961, 142; Topic & Topic, 1987: 48). 
 Region

Shape

Weight

Size/ Long axis

Reference

British Columbia

rounded

no information

'up to 4 inches' (102 mm) 'an ordinary orange' (average)

Duff, 1952: 60; Webber, 1899

California

rounded

no information

1½–2 inches (38–50 mm)

Loeb, 1926: 184

Cook Islands

rounded

4–28 ounces (113–790 grams)

48–88 mm

Buck, 1944: 302, fig. 189

pointed

not weighed (45–300 grams estimate)

50–100 mm

York & York, 2011: 53

pointed

2½–10 ounces (c. 70– 280 grams)

1.5–3.4 inches (38–89 mm)

Brigham, 1892: 68; 1902: 345

water rolled

no information

‘about the size of a hens egg’

Ellis, 1833, vol. 4: 119

Mariana Islands

pointed

40–80 grams (not usually exceeding 160 but rare examples up to 1 kilogram)

60–85 mm (rare examples the size of 'an American football')

York & York, 2011: 8, 21

Marquesas

oval (water rolled) and pointed

up to ½ lb (225 grams)

no information

Linton, 1923: 398; Porter, 1985 [1815]: 323

Mexico

rounded

20–325 grams

26–67 mm

Hassig, 1992: 29, 189; 1995: 80

New Caledonia

pointed

1.5 ounces (42 grams) (average)

1.75 inches (44 mm) (average)

Brigham, 1902: 345

pointed

not weighed

45–65 mm

British Museum

rounded

not weighed

38 mm

(?) pointed

26–72 grams

not measured

Gifford & Shutler, 1956: 69

pointed

1½ –1¾ ounces (42–50 grams)

2–2¼ inches (50–57 mm)

Vigors, 1888: 363, fig. 2

no information

1–1½ lbs (450–680 grams)

no information

Monckton, 1921: 38–9

rounded and pointed

no information

‘the size of a billard ball’

no information

¼–½ lbs (112–225 grams)

no information

Newton, 1914: 76

pointed

not weighed (45–90 grams estimate)

60–85 mm

York & York, 2011: 31–2

rounded

not weighed

'the size of golf balls (c. 40 mm)'

New Ireland

pointed

no information

'on average 5 cm long'

Parkinson, 2010 [1907]: 127

New Mexico

no information

no information

'fist- sized... cobbles'

Liebmann, 2010: 40

Hawai’i

New Guinea

Peru

Tahiti

rectangular–rounded

no information

40–90 mm

Brown Vega & Craig, 2009: 1266

smooth

no information

‘the size of a hens egg’

Xerez 1534 (quoted in Hemming, 1993: 187)

water rolled or 'sharp, angular'

no information

‘about the size of a hens egg’

Ellis, 1833, vol. 1: 226

no information

2 lbs (just under a kilogram)

no information

Hawkesworth, 1773: 445

no information

no information

‘mostly the size of a hens egg’

Morrison, 1935: 98

Table 2. The associations of Sussex slingstones. All listed sites are on the Upper Chalk or Clay-with-flints except for St. Anne’s Road, Eastbourne, on the Lower Chalk, and Shinewater Marsh, on peat and marine silts

Site name The Caburn

Site type

Date

Type of feature

Qty

hillfort

EIA

midden

N/D

pits

Associated finds

Reference

1

pottery, struck flint

42

Curwen & Curwen, 1927: 47–54; Drewett & Hamilton, 1999; Seager Thomas unpub.

N/D

137

MIA

15

pottery, burnt stone, bone, loom weights, quern fragments, potin coin, struck flint

MIA

body of rampart

3

pottery, burnt stone

N/D

lynchet

4

none

Charleston Brow

settlement

EIA– LIA

house platform

100

pottery, burnt stone, hammerstones, quern fragments, bone, metalwork

Parsons & Curwen, 1933: 168–72

Cissbury

hillfort

MIA

discrete group(s) in pit

404

pottery, bone, marine shell, iron knife, loom weight

Curwen & Williamson, 1931: 27

St Anne’s Road, Eastbourne

settlement

LIA

layer in pit

26

Burnt stone, pottery, daub

Greatorex unpub.

layer on trackway

>1000

pottery, burnt stone, hone, quern fragments

Goose Hill Camp

settlement

EIA

discrete layer at rear of house

up to 2000

pottery from house

Mark Roberts unpub.

Fore Down

settlement

LBA

pits

pottery, etc.

Budgen ,1927: 286

Hollingbury

hillfort

EIA

top of rampart

50-odd

none

Holmes, 1984: 41

Itford Hill

settlement

MBA

house platform

50-odd

pottery, burnt stone, bone, whetstone, struck flint, etc.

Burstow & Holleyman, 1957: 176

Norton Farm

settlement

MIA

pits

7

pottery, burnt stone, bone, potin coin, struck flint

Seager Thomas, 2005

4

pottery, burnt stone, bone, struck flint, quern fragments (midden only)

?

midden

4

ditch

6

LIA

metalled surface

19

pottery, burnt stone, bone, struck flint, quern fragment

Park Brow

settlement

EIA

pit

12

unknown

Wolseley & Smith, 1924: 350

Plumpton Plain

settlement

LBA

house platforms

18

pottery, burnt stone, spindle whorls, struck flint

Holleyman & Curwen, 1935: 29–31

11

pottery, burnt stone, spindle whorls, bronze, struck flint

Shinewater Park

The Trundle

settlement environs

hillfort

LBA

MIA

trackway

many

pottery, burnt stone, bone, struck flint

spread across open marsh

21

none

pits

122

pottery, burnt flint, bone,

Greatorex 2003; unpub.

Curwen, 1931: 114–8

23 18

struck flint, quern fragments, daub

Table 3. The associations of slingstones at Hascombe hillfort. Flint beach pebbles of Tertiary origin occurred in nearly every trench and in association with features and finds of all types. Pebble beds, however, are not usually associated by geologists with the Lower Greensand, and never at the elevation of the hillforts, which suggests that — slingstones or not — those from them were imported

Locus

Feature/ deposit type

Entrance area

topsoil rubble of n. & s. out-turns surface of s. rampart terminal rubble pitching of s. bank

Adjacent to entrance

Rampart Behind rampart

Site interior

No. of stones 17 13 9 15

Artefactual associations struck flint, burnt stone none struck flint struck flint, flint lump

N/A edge of post hole in entrance rubble and sand spill surface against entrance revetment sand and rubble against entrance revetment layer (15m outside rampart & ditch) topsoil layer below topsoil topsoil loam on face of rampart top of primary silt beneath rubble topsoil above rampart or ditch ‘occupation’ layer unknown layer layer topsoil upper fill of pit

28 1 6 5

struck flint none local carstone pottery

10

local carstone

1

struck flint

8 2 1 3 3

struck flint none none struck flint pottery

1 5 1 6 10 1 8

topsoil layer layer upper fill of pit fill of hearth N/A upper fill of pit

2 2 5 4 1 1 1

lower fill of pit

3

upper fill of pit brown sand below topsoil

6 1

none clay ‘slingshot’ pottery none struck flint, burnt flint burnt flint fossil echinoid (Micraster), pottery, clay ‘slingshot’, daub, quern fragments daub struck flint struck flint, burnt flint pottery clay ‘slingshot’ struck flint struck flint, pottery, burnt sandstone, quern struck flint, burnt flint, pottery, daub pottery struck flint, burnt flint, pottery