Archaeometallurgy -- an island?
REHREN, THILO
VINCENT C. PIGOTT (ed.). The archaeometallurgy of the Asian Old
World (University Museum Monograph 89, University Museum Symposium
Series VII, MASCA Research Papers in Science & Archaeology 16).
iv+207 pages, 37 figures, 29 tables. 1999. Philadelphia (PA): University
of Pennsylvania Museum; ISSN 1048-5325 hardback.
ANDREW RAMAGE & PAUL CRADDOCK (ed.). King Croesus' gold:
excavations at Sardis and the history of gold refining. 272 pages, 230
figures, 35 colour illustrations. 2000. London: British Museum;
0-7141-0888-X hardback 45 [pounds sterling].
GILLIAN JULEFF. Early iron and steel in Sri Lanka: a study of the
Samanalawewa area (Kommission fur allgemeine und vergleichende
Archaologie, Materialien zur allgemeinen und vergleichenden Archaologie
34). viii+422 pages, 160 figures, tables. 1998. Mainz: Philipp von
Zabern; 3-8053-2512-6 hardback DM78 & e39.88.
SANDY GERRARD. The early British tin industry. 160 pages, 74
figures, 29 colour photographs. 2000. Stroud & Charleston (SC):
Tempus; 0-7524-1452-6 paperback 14.99 [pounds sterling] & US$24.99.
With some 15 years of research experience in archaeometallurgy, I
find it increasingly difficult to define what archaeometallurgy
separates from archaeology proper. This fuzzy definition issue of
archaeometallurgy became again very apparent to me when I found myself
with the task of reviewing a number of rather different books, all of
which sailed under the same name `archaeometallurgy', at least (I
presume) in the perception of the Review Editor of this journal.
Let's open the bag and have a look at what we have, before I
come back to the issue of what archaeometallurgy is. Well, there are
four new books, two explicitly concerned with islands, giving the excuse
for the title of this review. Three are hard bound, serious looking, and
one small, soft bound. One on tin, one on gold, one on steel, and one on
The archaeometallurgy of the Asian Old World. Being somewhat traditional
I decide to tackle them in chronological order as far as possible.
The archaeometallurgy of the Asian Old World is a collection of
seven papers, each aiming to give an overview of a particular research
topic or region. In order to understand the selection of those topics
covered here -- and hence also the absence of others -- one has to read
the Introduction. What we are seeing is the American half of the
proceedings of a USA-USSR meeting on `The Development of Ancient
Metallurgy in the Old World', held in 1988 in Georgia. The late
1980s were a fascinating period, perestroika looming and booming; but
the collapse of the Soviet Union soon after the meeting, and the
pressing change in the life of many eastern colleagues, effectively
prevented the complete assemblage of the proceedings. Thus, the book
presents only contributions of western colleagues, plus a translation of
a brief summary of the conference as published shortly after it in
Sovetskaya arkheologiya. The papers are arranged in geographical order.
The first two, by James Muhly on `Copper and bronze in Cyprus and the
Eastern Mediterranean' and by Jane Waldbaum on `The coming of iron
in the Eastern Mediterranean', cover an area which I at least have
some difficulties in recognizing as Asian. But they provide a well-known
starting point from where to move further east, through `Aspects of
early metallurgy in Mesopotamia and Anatolia' by Tamara Stech and
`The development of metal production on the Iranian Plateau' by
Vincent Pigott, to `Metal technologies of the Indus Valley Tradition in
Pakistan and Western India' by Jonathan Kenoyer & Heather
Miller, to `The Early Iron Age in South Asia' by Gregory Possehl
& Praveena Gullapalli and finally to `The transition to iron in
Ancient China' by Bennet Bronson. It is really a pity that the
eastern counterpart of this collection of papers is lacking. Judging
from the summary provided, these would have offered a remarkable amount
of additional data, both geographically and in the methodological
approach. Much work was apparently presented on Caucasian metallurgy,
with its highly significant bearing on the development in Western and
Southwestern Asia. Current research by a number of scholars of the
metallurgy in Anatolia and the Levant provides increasing evidence for
interaction with -- if not influence by -- the metallurgy in the
Caucasian region. But alas, we don't have them here.
There seems to be a general consensus among the papers that we are
interpreting a far too limited database, in particular when the very
early periods are concerned. Much of the hypothesis put forward, even
for late developments such as the transition from bronze to iron, is
apparently bound to be subject to considerable change as soon as new
information and data becomes available. Thus, the call is in unison for
new and further research, quite often explicitly for metallographic
studies of artefacts from well-dated contexts. Apparently they do exist,
but heavily guarded in collections, and hence almost as good as not
excavated. But similarly, there is a pressing need for many more `slag
studies', i.e. research into the primary and secondary production
methods involved in the creation of such artefacts. Here, the problem is
not the inaccessibility of material, but the lack of (funded) research
-- and scientists willing and able to do it. The archaeologists
interested in metals -- and there are more of them around than there are
scientists active in archaeometallurgy -- obviously do their job,
enthusiastically interpreting and re-interpreting what limited data they
have. I should probably add that the manuscripts for this volume date
mostly from 1996 to 1998, and are thus much more recent than the date of
the conference may suggest. In general, it is a valuable compilation of
the `state of the art' with more emphasis on Asia proper than often
found elsewhere.
The second book to discuss here, King Croesus' gold, is very
different. This volume addresses a rather specialized issue of
archaeometallurgy, namely the refining of gold, in almost every minute
detail which the well-equipped laboratory and the experienced staff of
the Department of Scientific Research of the British Museum (with
contributions by Mike Cowell, Paul Craddock, Duncan Hook, M. Humphrey,
K. Hyne, Nigel Meeks, Andrew Middleton) and collaborators in Turkey (A.
Geckinli and Hardy Ozbal) could muster. Yet, specialized as the topic
may appear, it certainly has its overriding relevance, in that only the
refining of gold -- and in particular its separation from the main
`contaminant', silver -- enabled the development of coins and
currencies, the breathing air of any `serious' economy. This very
topic -- the realization first that almost all gold in nature is diluted
by various and often considerable amounts of silver, and then the
problem of devising a method to part the two -- struck me as an
intriguing issue in archaeometallurgy more than 10 years ago. Of course,
as Prof. Bachmann quite often pointed out to me, we knew all the time
how it was done; after all, the principles of chemistry and its ancestor
metallurgy have not changed. And yes, there are the notes in passing by
various classical authors, and the rather extensive descriptions from
early Medieval times onwards. But for all the mind-blowing quantity of
gold mined and processed in the Old World throughout the ages, from the
Nile Valley through the Iberian peninsula to Central and Eastern Europe and into Western and Central Asia -- here is the first and only
well-researched and published archaeological evidence for it, with many
interesting side-tracks for the recovery of the silver from the debris
(the massive furnace walls contained silver metal in the order of
several percent, not to mention the ceramic of the parting vessels
themselves), through the proof for the re-working of some earlier,
initially not refined, gold coins, up to a detailed presentation of the
numismatic context (by Andrew Ramage), and the scientific investigation
of the related ceramic materials, pots and furnace remains. In its
presentation of all this detailed work, including the circumstances of
the discovery and excavation of the material in the 1960s, replication
experiments of the process, a comprehensive discussion of other methods
of parting and refining of gold used elsewhere, it may well go beyond
the interest of the majority of the readers of this journal.
Nevertheless, it is an exemplary scientific investigation of unique
archaeological material. In my opinion, at least, it is certainly much
better to publish more detail than immediately necessary, than to
publish a hypothesis or interpretation without the underlying data. In
this way, one can easily skip any part, but it is still available. In
this particular case, however, I would maintain that a great deal of the
book is good reading anyway, even if it is highly specialized. If only
it had been published 10 years ago, when the work was basically
completed....
Early iron and steel in Sri Lanka already from the outside is by
far the most impressive of the four books in the bag. More than 400
pages of two-column A4 text (including 150 pages of catalogue in the
appendices) are waiting for the reader, very well illustrated with
drawings, half-tones and colour photographs in the text. It starts as a
relatively unexciting printed version of a doctoral thesis (carried out
during the 1990s at the Institute of Archaeology, London, several years
before I took up work there), but soon one is lured into the fascination
of a landscape which reveals its intense and varied archaeological
heritage only during a survey before a huge dam development --
discovered to be destroyed. The first 50 pages give the framework of the
study and the setting of the area, necessary background information
against which the real stuff which follows has to be seen. The next
hundred pages or so are really it. The discovery, interpretation and
explanation of a metallurgical phenomenon, the so-called west-facing
furnaces. I learned archaeometallurgy with the sound belief that there
are two ways to operate proper furnaces, namely either by forcing wind
into them by bellows, or by using the chimney effect of a tall shaft.
Here, we have a third way. These are wind-powered furnaces where the
stream of steady winds blowing across and over the furnaces generates an
upward sucking system of low pressure, not unlike the aerodynamic system
that keeps a jet plane in the air from the airflow across the carefully
profiled wings. This low pressure system then sucks air into the
furnaces through tuyeres positioned near the front base. Hence, these
furnaces are short, built into the ground and always situated just
beneath the top of an appropriate hill, facing the wind and allowing a
nice lamellar flow across them. They are not circular as any other
furnace, but elongated, like a sofa, with a take-away breast of clay
around a wooden structure and the series of tuyeres at the base. The
sides and backs of the furnaces are cut into the soil, and remain almost
unchanged during the smelts. The identification of this supposedly
modern principle of aerodynamics in an archaeological context, on a
regular scale and developing over half a millennium, quite rightly made
it to the cover page of Nature in 1996, and attracted much attention in
other news media as well. Here now is the full story, presenting the
archaeological evidence as well as the experimental reproduction of the
process, with all the necessary scientific recording and observations of
the relevant environmental parameters such as wind speeds and
directions, level of vegetation, and geomorphological constraints, in
well-measured detail.
Beyond this intriguing metallurgical story is a quite remarkable
personal story as well. What began as a more or less routine survey of
an archaeological landscape turned into a masterpiece of scientific
research, basically done by a Ph.D student of archaeology on her own
initiative and intuition. Of course, she had scientific advice and
support once she had identified the basic principle, to confirm the
theory behind her hypothesis. But it is still her own research and
success, which since then has been applied to a number of other furnace
sites with similar settings and design, such as certain Bronze Age copper-smelting furnaces in the Arabah, which were previously considered
enigmatic in their function. A very remarkable feature of the book is
the documentation of Gill Juleff's smelting experiments, lavishly
illustrated with colour photographs and detailed recordings of wind
speeds, furnace temperatures and schematic drawings of flow patterns.
Almost hidden in this ground-breaking work is another jewel, namely
a detailed documentation of a sub-recent, small-scale crucible steel industry in southern Sri Lanka. Much has been written about crucible
steel manufacture in India and Sri Lanka based on textual indications,
and a number of archaeological sites are known, and partly studied, from
India. But again, only here is the neat combination of archaeological
and ethnographic evidence, together with scientific investigations of
related remains (by Mike Wayman, in Appendix D), which is almost unique
in its `satisfaction level' to the interested reviewer. This is a
lasting and exemplary contribution not only to archaeometallurgy, in
terms of process identification and reconstruction, but to archaeology
in general for its apt integration of open-minded fieldwork,
environmental recording, scientific investigation and archaeological
interpretation. None of the individual parts on its own would have been
as thrilling as is their combination.
The early British tin industry is quite different from the other
three, in that it follows a purely archaeological and historical
approach to a metal, pulling together a lot of information for the
British tin industry from the beginnings in prehistory to the early
modern period. However, it restricts itself to the archaeological
evidence for the various mining methods used, from streamworks to
underground mining, and for the crushing and beneficiation of the ore,
with hardly any discussion of the material which was worked and
processed, and its geological peculiarities and relationship to the
mining landscape. This lack of `scientific' information became
particularly apparent to the reviewer when the smelting of tin is
discussed. The 11 pages devoted to this subject manage to avoid the word
`slag' almost entirely, and the entire smelting process is reduced
to two sentences (p. 129):
`Before the tin could be successfully smelted the furnace had to
reach a temperature of at least 1150 [degrees] c [sic!] and this was
achieved by blowing air through the furnace using water powered bellows.
Once the tin had become molten, it flowed from the furnace into a float
stone and from here was ladled into a bevelled rectangular trough cut
into a granite boulder called a mould stone, in which it cooled to form
an ingot of white tin.'
I am well aware of the scarcity of archaeological tin slags, not
only in Britain. But then, there are a number of studies available,
investigating both prehistoric and Medieval/Early Modern tin slags from
Britain. They are, admittedly, not very conclusive regarding the ways
and means of smelting, but they do add important and significant
information about the efficiency of a process that dealt with a rather
expensive commodity. Seeing now tin smelting reduced to an operation
without fuel, flux and slag, but with the same over-emphasis on the
mould stone that runs through the whole book, is somewhat disappointing.
On the other hand, I hasten to say that the compilation of information
and historical data given certainly makes this book a worthwhile read.
It is only in the stark contrast to the really integrated approach of
the previous book that this one falls behind. In all fairness, there is
enough merit in the present book, not least the good illustrations, many
of them in colour, of a number of archaeological and building features
which are otherwise difficult to understand, and a guide to sites to
visit. Whether such publicity of archaeological sites is a positive
thing (in terms of `public archaeology' and the accessibility of
archaeology to local communities), or rather poses a threat to them, may
be discussed elsewhere.
Coming back to the initial question -- an island? --
archaeometallurgy as a science may have been performed too often in
isolation, on a virtual island, concerned only with the development of
ever more `powerful' tools to analyse ever more exotic trace
elements. To a great extent, research funding strategies are to blame
for this rather than individuals. These books now prove that there is,
even at the `grass roots' level of Ph.D work, the possibility for a
full integration of scientific, metallurgical, research methods in
archaeological projects, answering archaeological questions -- applying
methods rather than developing them. In the first book, archaeologists
discuss at length the interpretations that would be possible if only
enough scientific data would be available. The next two books prove the
exciting possibilities of such integrated work by example. In one of
them, it is mostly scientists presenting and discussing their own data,
much in the tradition of a history of metallurgy. In the other, an
archaeologist presents and discusses her own scientific data, pushing
home archaeology. These are three different approaches to
archaeometallurgy, all equally valid, and by far not covering the full
range of the science (or art, as I prefer it to see). The fourth,
really, is concerned with the archaeology of a metal, rather than
archaeometallurgy; it is free of any scientific input. It will be a long
time before we understand the archaeometallurgy of tin, be it in Britain
or elsewhere. Archaeometallurgy is not an island, but an integral and
inseparable part of archaeology. Where interaction occurs, the benefit
is mutual, and often exciting, as demonstrated in two of these books.
Reference
JULEFF, G. 1996. An ancient wind-powered iron smelting technology
in Sri Lanka, Nature 379 (6560): 60-63.
THILO REHREN, Institute of Archaeology, University College London,
31-34 Gordon Square, London WC1H 0PY, England. Th.Rehren@ucl.ac.uk