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The Siege of Masada

Jodi Magness is the Kenan Distinguished Professor for Teaching Excellence in Early Judaism at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. She previously taught at Tufts University. Professor Magness has more than 20 years of excavation experience, including the co-direction of excavations of the Masada Roman siege works and the Roman fort at Yotvata. She has authored numerous works, including Masada: From Jewish Revolt to Modern Myth, The Archaeology of Qumran and the Dead Sea Scrolls, and The Archaeology of the Early Islamic Settlement in Palestine.

When the First [Jewish] Revolt erupted in 66 [AD], bands of Jewish rebels took over some of Herod the Great’s fortified palaces, which had been occupied and maintained by garrisons since the king’s death seventy years earlier. Three were still in Jewish hands after the revolt officially ended in 70: Herodium (near Bethlehem), Machaerus (to the east of the Dead Sea), and Masada. The Roman legate (governor) of the newly established province of Judea, Lucilius Bassus, set out to subdue these last holdouts. Limited information from Josephus and archaeological evidence suggest that Herodium was taken quickly. The rebels at Machaerus capitulated before the Romans commenced their assault, although Josephus describes skirmishes between the two sides. The Roman circumvallation (siege) wall and ten or eleven siege camps are still visible surrounding the base of Machaerus, as is a massive stone assault ramp that was never completed.

In 72 or 73, the Roman troops arrived at the foot of Masada, the last fortress held by Jewish rebels. In the meantime, Bassus had died and was replaced as legate by Flavius Silva:

In Judea, meanwhile, Bassus had died and been succeeded in the governorship by Flavius Silva, who, seeing the whole country now subjugated by the Roman arms, with the exception of one fortress still in revolt, concentrated all forces in the district and marched against it. This fortress was called Masada. (Josephus, War 7.252)

Silva was a native of Urbs Salvia in Italy, where two inscriptions have been discovered recording his dedication of an amphitheater in 81 or later, after he finished his term as legate of Judea.

The Roman campaign to Masada took place in the winter-spring of 72–73 or 73–74. Although today many visitors are under the impression that the fortress held out against the Romans for three years (after 70), the siege lasted no longer than six months and almost certainly was much shorter—perhaps as little as seven weeks from beginning to end.

The Roman Army

The Roman army was so effective because its soldiers were highly trained career professionals—mostly legionaries and auxiliaries—who enlisted for a lifetime of service. Legionaries were drafted from among Roman citizens and served primarily as heavy infantry. At the time of the siege of Masada, there were approximately thirty legions in the Roman army, each consisting of about five thousand soldiers. Auxiliaries were conscripted from among non-Roman citizens, who were awarded citizenship at the end of their term of service. Auxiliaries usually operated as light infantry, cavalry, and archers, that is, the more mobile troops who protected the flanks of the heavy infantry in battle. Auxiliary units were organized into regiments numbering five hundred or a thousand soldiers each.

Approximately eight thousand Roman troops participated in the siege of Masada: the Tenth Legion (Legio X Fretensis) and a number of auxiliary cohorts. The Tenth Legion, now under Silva’s command, had participated previously in the sieges at Gamla (or Gamala) (in the Golan), Jerusalem, and Machaerus. After the fall of Masada, the Tenth Legion was stationed in Jerusalem until circa 300, when the emperor Diocletian transferred it to Aila (modern Aqaba) on the Red Sea. Servants and slaves (including Jews), pack animals, and vendors accompanied the Roman troops at the siege of Masada.

The Roman Siege Camps

When the Romans arrived at the foot of Masada, they constructed a stone wall, 10–12 feet (ca. 3 meters) high and approximately 4,000 yards (4,500 meters) long, which completely encircled the base of the mountain. This circumvallation wall sealed off the fortress, preventing the besieged from escaping and making it impossible for others to join them. Gwyn Davies emphasizes “the clear symbolic message conveyed” by the construction of the siege works, both to the rebels holding out atop Masada and other peoples under Roman rule. Guards posted at towers along the wall kept watch to ensure that no one scaled it. In addition to the circumvallation wall, the Romans established eight camps to house their troops, which archaeologists have labeled with the letters A–H. The camps surround the base of the mountain, guarding potential routes of escape. Josephus’s description of the circumvallation wall and siege camps accords well with the archaeological remains:

The Roman general advanced at the head of his forces against Eleazar and his band of Sicarii who held Masada, and promptly making himself master of the whole district, established garrisons at the most suitable points, threw up a wall all round the fortress, to make it difficult for any of the besieged to escape, and posted sentinels to guard it. (War 7.275)

The sequence of camps begins with A at the foot of the Snake Path and proceeds counterclockwise: Camps A–C on the eastern side of the mountain; D at the northern tip; E–F on the northwest side; G to the southwest; and H perched atop Mount Eleazar to the south of Masada. The camps are connected by the circumvallation wall and by a path called the “runner’s path” which can still be hiked today. In an era before field telephones and walkie-talkies, the runner’s path was the line of communication, used by runners who carried Silva’s orders from camp to camp. The 1981 film Gallipoli directed by Peter Weir featured a young Mel Gibson in the role of an Australian runner in that famous World War I battle.

The layout of the siege camps at Masada reflects the efficient and standardized operating procedure of the Roman army. All of the camps are square or roughly square in shape, with the sides oriented to the four cardinal points. In the middle of each wall is a gate that led to two main roads running north-south and east-west, which intersected in the center of the camp. The units within each camp were laid out around these roads, with the most important units (such as the commander’s living quarters and the camp headquarters) in the center and other units farther away. Camp B on the east and Camp F on the northwest are conspicuously larger than the others, as they housed the legionary troops, while the other camps were occupied by auxiliary soldiers. Camp B served as the distribution point for supplies transported by boats from areas surrounding the Dead Sea, which were offloaded at a dock on the shore to the east of Masada. Camp F was positioned so Silva could oversee the construction of the assault ramp, as Josephus describes: “He himself [Silva] encamped at a spot which he selected as most convenient for siege operations, where the rocks of the fortress abutted on the adjacent mountain, although ill situated for commissariat purposes” (War 7.277).

A square walled area in the southwest corner of Camp F, called F2, postdates the fall of Masada. Camp F2 housed a small garrison that remained for a short period after the siege ended, until they ensured the area was completely subdued.

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The 1995 Excavations in Camp F

Although Yigael Yadin was a specialist in ancient warfare and served as chief of staff of the IDF [Israel Defense Forces], his excavations focused on the remains on Masada’s summit and largely ignored the Roman siege works. These remained virtually untouched until summer 1995, when I co-directed excavations in the siege works with three Israeli colleagues: Professor Gideon Foerster (at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem); Professor Haim Goldfus (now at Ben-Gurion University); and Mr. Benny Arubas (at the Hebrew University). We focused on Camp F as it is the better-preserved of the two legionary camps. Our excavations provide valuable information about Roman siege warfare in general and the fall of Masada in particular. The remains at Masada are arguably the best-preserved example of siege works anywhere in the Roman world, for two reasons: (1) they are constructed of stone, whereas in other parts of the Roman world siege works often were made of perishable materials such as wood and sod; and (2) because of their remote desert location, the Masada siege works have never been destroyed or built over. The circumvallation wall and camps are clearly visible today, evidenced by heaps of stones that can be seen from the top of the mountain. Although the camps appear barren and sterile, our excavations revealed that the units within them are filled with broken pottery and other artifacts.

The circumvallation wall and the walls of the camps are constructed of dry field stones, that is, unhewn stones collected from the rocky surface of the ground, with no mud or mortar binding. The outer walls of each camp originally stood to a height of 10–12 feet (ca. 3 meters), while the walls of the units inside the camps were about 3–4 feet high (ca. 1 meter). The latter were not actually walls; rather, they were bases or foundations for leather tents, which the Roman army pitched while on campaign in the field. We excavated several units inside Camp F, which consist of one or more rooms, with the interiors usually encircled by a low bench of dirt and stones. The benches were used both for sleeping and as dining couches. The praetorium—the living quarters of the commander, Silva—is located in the center of Camp F, by the intersection of the two main roads. Although most of the stones of the praetorium were removed for use in the construction of Camp F2, the discovery of luxury goods including imported glass vessels from Italy and eggshell-thin painted Nabataean pottery bowls confirm that this was indeed the commander’s living quarters. My personal favorite is a stump-based amphoriskos—a table jar—painted with ivy leaves, from which I like to imagine Silva’s servant poured his wine.

Next to the praetorium is a stone platform, which was a tribunal from which Silva could review and address his troops, who mustered in the open space around it. Nearby is a rectangular pi-shaped structure, oriented so that its narrow end opens toward Masada. This structure was stripped to the foundations when the wall of Camp F2 was constructed over it. Nevertheless, the plan and location indicate that it was a triclinium—the officers’ mess. Triclinium in Greek means “three couches,” referring to the arrangement of dining couches around three sides of a formal dining room. As the officers in this triclinium dined, they gazed out at the mountain of Masada.

Just inside the wall of Camp F2 and partly covered by it is the principia—the camp headquarters. Although the principia yielded almost no finds, it was the only unit we excavated with plastered walls and floors. Nearby and also within the walls of F2, we excavated a row of identical one-room units called contubernia. A contubernium was the smallest subdivision of a legion, consisting of eight enlisted men who marched and camped together on campaign. Each of these one-roomed units housed a group of eight men—a contubernium. The interior of the room was lined with a rough stone-and-dirt bench used for sleeping and dining. The contubernia are small because the men ate and slept in shifts, similar to living quarters in a modern submarine. In front of each room is a small open porch or courtyard enclosed by a wall, with a small hearth in the corner where the men prepared their food. Roman soldiers were equipped with mess kits which they used on campaign, as depicted on Trajan’s Column in Rome, where soldiers are setting out with their mess kits dangling from a pole slung over one shoulder.

The floors of the units we excavated in Camp F were covered with layers of broken pottery, mostly from storage jars. The rarity of cooking pots and dining dishes such as bowls and cups apparently is due to the use of mess kits by the enlisted men, whereas Silva and his officers were provided with fine ceramic and glass tableware. The storage jars, which have a bulky, bag-shaped body, are characteristic of Judea in the first century CE and presumably were produced for the Roman army by Jewish potters. The siege of Masada was a logistical challenge for the Romans due to the scarcity of food and water in the immediate vicinity. They had to import enough supplies every day to provision approximately eight thousand soldiers as well as pack animals, servants, and slaves. Food and water were hauled from great distances over land on pack animals or shipped on boats from points around the Dead Sea. Josephus describes the provisioning of the Roman troops at Masada: “For not only were supplies conveyed from a distance, entailing hard labor for the Jews told off for this duty, but even water had to be brought into the camp, there being no spring in the neighborhood” (War 7.278).

As Josephus indicates, Jewish slaves hauled the food and water. The supplies were transported in baskets and animal skins, which are lighter, easier to carry, and less susceptible to breakage than ceramic jars. Upon arrival at Masada, the contents of these containers were emptied into ceramic jars for storage. After the siege ended, the storage jars were emptied and left behind.

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Roman siege camp F, showing the remains of the later camp F2 in the upper left corner inside the main camp.

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Roman Military Equipment

Not surprisingly, we found few remains of military equipment in our excavations in Camp F, as the soldiers took their weapons with them when the siege ended. However, in and around the tent units were piles of large, egg-shaped pebbles, which had been collected from wadis (river beds/washes) in the vicinity. They were used as slingshot stones and were left behind because they had no inherent value. In contrast to Camp F, Yadin’s excavations atop Masada yielded a large and diverse quantity of military equipment, which I co-published with Guy Stiebel. Yadin’s finds included hundreds of iron arrowheads, nearly all of which represent the standard Roman Imperial type: a head with three barbed wingtips to stick into the flesh, and a long tang that was inserted into a wooden or reed shaft. The arrows were fired in volleys by archers. Three bone ear laths from Yadin’s excavations come from the reinforced ends of composite bows. Yadin also discovered hundreds of small bronze scales, most of which are narrow and elongated, and have four holes at the top and a raised rib down the center. Originally the scales were sewn onto a cloth or leather backing so that they overlapped. In the first century CE, scale armor was typically worn by auxiliaries. One large group of scales was colored red, gold, and perhaps silver, and apparently belonged to a suit of parade armor.

Legionary soldiers wore segmented armor (lorica segmentata), which consisted of overlapping iron strips, a few fragments of which were found in Yadin’s excavations. The armor covered only the upper part of the body and was worn over a short tunic that stopped just above the knees. On their heads, legionaries wore a bronze helmet with large cheek-pieces attached to the sides; we discovered one such cheek-piece in Camp F. The typical footgear worn by Roman soldiers consisted of heavy hobnailed leather sandals called caligae, examples of which were preserved at Masada thanks to the arid desert atmosphere. The emperor Gaius was nicknamed Caligula—“little boots”—after the hobnailed sandals worn by the soldiers who he befriended as a child. The lower part of a legionary’s body was left unprotected by armor to allow for mobility.

Around their waists, legionaries wore a leather belt to which several items were attached. An apron consisting of narrow strips of leather with bronze studs dangled from the front of the belt, which protected the soldier’s genitals (as nothing was worn under a tunic) and made a clanking noise intended to frighten the enemy in battle. A leather sheath holding a dagger was attached to the right side of the belt, and on the left side was a leather sheath with a gladius—the double-edged sword used by legionaries. The tip of the sword sheath was reinforced with a bronze casing called a scabbard chape. Yadin found a complete scabbard chape with delicate cut-out designs, through which the dark leather sheath would have been visible. This scabbard chape, which must have belonged to a legionary officer, has parallels in Italy dating to the mid-first century CE. In the left hand, legionaries held a large rectangular shield to protect the unarmored lower part of the body. In the right hand, they carried a tall, skinny javelin called a pilum, which was the characteristic offensive weapon of legionaries. In battle, the pilum was thrust or thrown to pin the opponent, who was then killed with the sword in hand-to-hand combat.

The Assault Ramp

The Romans undertook the siege of Masada by constructing their camps and the circumvallation wall, thereby sealing off and isolating the mountain. In some sieges, no additional measures were required to starve an enemy into surrender. This was not the case at Masada, where the besieged were provisioned with large quantities of food and water stored in Herod’s palaces, whereas the Roman forces had to import supplies from long distances. Therefore, at Masada the Romans sought to bring the siege to a swift resolution. To accomplish this, they had to move their troops and siege machinery up the steep, rocky slopes of the mountain and break through Herod’s fortification wall at the top. There were two paths to the top of Masada: the Snake Path on the east and another path on the west (today buried under the Roman ramp). Using these paths would have required the soldiers to climb up in single file while carrying their personal equipment as well as the battering ram, which had to be erected at the top to break through the Herodian casemate wall—all the while leaving the soldiers vulnerable to stones, boulders, and other projectiles thrown or fired by the defenders above. To solve this problem, Silva ordered his men to construct an assault ramp of dirt and stones, which ascended to the summit from a low white hill (called the Leuke by Josephus) at the foot of the western side of the mountain:

The Roman general, having now completed his wall surrounding the whole exterior of the place, as we have already related, and taken the strictest precautions that none should escape, applied himself to the siege. He had discovered only one spot capable of supporting earthworks. For in rear of the tower which barred the road leading from the west to the palace and the ridge, was a projection of rock, of considerable breadth and jutting far out, but still three hundred cubits [1 cubit = ca. 1.5 feet or 0.5 meters] below the elevation of Masada; it was called Leuce. Silva, having accordingly ascended and occupied this eminence, ordered his troops to throw up an embankment. (Josephus, War 7.304–5)

Once completed, the ramp provided a gentle slope that the soldiers could ascend easily with several men across. At the top of the ramp, they erected a stone platform for the battering ram:

Working with a will and a multitude of hands, they raised a solid bank to the height of two hundred cubits. This, however, being still considered of insufficient stability and extent as an emplacement for the engines, on top of it was constructed a platform of great stones fitted closely together, fifty cubits broad and as many high. (Josephus, War 7.306–7)

During the siege operation, auxiliary troops provided cover fire with a barrage of arrows and ballista stones—large, round stones shot from torsion machines:

The engines in general were similarly constructed to those first devised by Vespasian and afterwards by Titus for their siege operations; in addition a sixty-cubit tower was constructed entirely cased in iron, from which the Romans by volleys of missiles from numerous quick-firers and ballistae quickly beat off the defenders on the ramparts and prevented them from showing themselves. (Josephus, War 7.308–9)

Yadin found iron arrowheads and ballista stones surrounding the area at the top of the ramp, confirming Josephus’s description of a concentrated barrage of cover fire. Andrew Holley, who published the ballista stones, notes that their relatively light weights (nearly all weighing less than 4 kg and most of these less than 1 kg) indicate they were fired from small-caliber engines and were aimed at human targets rather than being intended to make a breach in the casemate wall. Most of the ballista stones were discovered along the northwest edge of the mountain, facing the assault ramp, with large deposits in two casemate rooms (L1039 and L1045). Holley has argued persuasively against Ehud Netzer’s suggestion that these stones were associated with engines used by the Jewish rebels, as the Romans would not have established Camps E and F within range of artillery fire. Instead, the ballista stones in L1039 (the Casemate of the Scrolls) and L1045 were fired into the fortress by Roman artillery mounted in the tower on the assault ramp, and were collected and dumped in these rooms after the siege ended. The Casemate of the Scrolls also yielded rare fragments of Roman shields made of three layers of wood faced with glue-soaked fabric, which were covered with leather that still bears traces of red paint.

In the above passage, Josephus describes the Romans firing volleys of ballista stones and “missiles” to provide cover during the siege operation. And indeed, numerous ballista stones and iron arrowheads of the characteristic Roman barbed, trilobite type with a tang (which originally was set into a wooden or reed shaft) were discovered in Yadin’s excavations at Masada. Puzzlingly, however, there is not a single definite example of an iron projectile point (catapult bolt). Catapult bolts are heavier than arrowheads (which were shot from manual bows) and differ in having a solid head and a socket instead of a tang. In contrast, numerous iron projectile points were found at Gamla in contexts associated with the Roman siege of 67, where, according to Josephus, the Romans employed catapults.

In light of the absence of iron projectile points at Masada, Guy Stiebel and I originally proposed that catapults were not employed during the siege, perhaps due to the steep angle of projection from the ramp to the fortification wall. This would contradict Josephus’s account and suggest that his description of the artillery barrage was formulaic. However, I now believe that the archaeological evidence can be reconciled with Josephus’s testimony. As Gwyn Davies has observed, “It is inconceivable that the Romans didn’t have bolt-firers at the siege [of Masada]. In fact, the bolt-firers would almost certainly have been mounted in the siege tower for the purposes of sweeping the parapets, even if they were not advanced up the ramp when the tower was being winched up or emplaced at the foot of the ramp.” Davies suggests that the bolts were collected and recycled by the Romans in cleanup operations after the siege, just as the ballista stones were gathered and dumped.

Although it may be difficult to believe that the Romans were so thorough that they retrieved every iron bolt head in their cleanup operations, an examination of the distribution of iron arrowheads at Masada supports this possibility. The overwhelming majority of arrowheads come from the lower terrace of the northern palace and the workshop in the western palace. These spots were buried in collapse from conflagrations, and for this reason presumably were not retrieved by the Romans. Other locations with small groups of arrowheads are on the western side of the mountain, around the area that would have been swept by cover fire from the direction of the ramp. However, aside from the arrowheads in the northern palace and the western palace, which were buried in collapse, the Romans seem to have retrieved most of the arrowheads as well as all the iron bolt heads. The small groups of remaining arrowheads seem to have been left where they were gathered, perhaps because their poor condition rendered them unusable. And unlike Masada, the Romans did not occupy Gamla after the siege. Presumably they retrieved some of the iron bolt heads at Gamla, but without a garrison left to occupy and clear the site, the rest of the bolts remained among the destruction debris.

In addition to biblical and extra-biblical scrolls, the only examples of Latin papyri at Masada were discovered in the Casemate of the Scrolls. The Latin papyri either date to around the time of the siege or are associated with a detachment of legionaries that was stationed atop the mountain for up to several decades after the siege ended. One of the Latin papyri is inscribed with a line in hexametric verse from Virgil’s epic poem, the Aeneid (4.9). Another Latin papyrus—the longest one discovered at Masada—is a military “pay record.” This document records payments made by a legionary named C. Messius of Beirut, which were deducted from his salary for items such as barley and clothing. A third, poorly preserved Latin papyrus lists medical supplies for injured or ill Roman soldiers, specifically mentioning bandages and “eating oil.” In addition to the papyri, twenty-two ostraca (inscribed potsherds) inscribed in Latin with the names of Roman soldiers were found in the vicinity of the large bathhouse in the northern palace complex. The names—including Aemilius, Fabius, and Terentius—belong to legionaries and are unusual in that they are written on the inside rather than the outside of the potsherd.

During the 1995 excavations in the siege works, we cut a section through the ramp a little over halfway up, to determine how it was constructed. Today the ramp, which can still be climbed, appears to consist of fine, white chalky dust that poofs up in clouds underfoot, mixed with small to medium-sized stones. Our excavations revealed that the Romans constructed the ramp by taking pieces of wood—mostly tamarisk and date palm—and laying some of them flat and using others as vertical stakes to create a timber bracing filled with packed stones, rubble, and earth. Today the tips of timbers are visible protruding near the bottom of the ramp. Geological analyses suggest that the ramp was built on a natural spur that ascended the western side of the mountain from the Leuke, although we did not reach the spur in our excavations. Once the ramp was completed, the Romans erected a stone platform for the battering ram and began to break through Herod’s fortification wall. A large breach in the casemate wall at the top of the ramp is still visible today.

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The Last Stand

Josephus reports that once the Romans breached the wall, they found the rebels had constructed a second wall of wooden beams filled with earth, which not only withstood the battering ram but was compacted by its blows:

The Sicarii, however, had already hastily built up another wall inside, which was not likely to meet with a similar fate from the engines; for it was pliable and calculated to break the force of the impact, having been constructed as follows. Great beams were laid lengthwise and contiguous and joined at the extremities; of these there were two parallel rows a wall’s breadth apart, and the intermediate space was filled with earth. Further, to prevent the soil from dispersing as the mound rose, they clamped, by other transverse beams, those laid longitudinally. The work thus presented to the enemy the appearance of masonry, but the blows of the engine were weakened, battering upon a yielding material which, as it settled down under the concussion, they merely served to solidify. (War 7.311–14)

While preparing the final publication describing the architecture of Masada, Ehud Netzer noticed that only about 10 percent of the buildings on the mountain showed evidence of destruction by fire, and they were not contiguous. Netzer reasoned that had the buildings been set on fire, they all should have burned down. He proposed that the absence of burning in most of the buildings means their wooden ceiling beams were dismantled, presumably for the construction of the second wall as described by Josephus. If Netzer’s interpretation is correct, it would corroborate this part of Josephus’s testimony about the fall of Masada.

Once the Romans noticed that the rebels had constructed a second wall of wood and earth, Silva ordered his soldiers to set it on fire. At first, a strong wind blew the flames toward the Romans, threatening to burn down their battering ram. However, the wind suddenly changed course and blew back toward the wall, causing it to go up in flames. At this point, Josephus says, Eleazar ben Yair convened the men and convinced them to take their own lives to escape capture, thereby depriving the Romans of their victory:

Let our wives thus die undishonored, our children unacquainted with slavery; and when they are gone, let us render a generous service to each other, preserving our liberty as a noble winding-sheet. But first let us destroy our chattels and the fortress by fire … Our provisions only let us spare; for they will testify, when we are dead, that it was not want which subdued us, but that, in keeping with our initial resolve, we preferred death to slavery. (War 7.334–36)

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From MASADA: From Jewish Revolt to Modern Myth by Jodi Magness. Copyright © 2019 by Princeton University Press. Reprinted by permission. Footnotes originally included in the text have been excluded from this published excerpt.

Readers interested in reading much more about the fascinating story of Masada and its historical context can obtain author Jodi Magness’ new book from Princeton University Press

1619: Archaeology and the Seeds of a Nation

July 30, 1619 — It must have been a very auspicious occasion for the newly established land-owning settlers when Governor George Yeardley stepped into the church for the very first meeting of the Virginia General Assembly at Jamestown. Months before, while still in England, he was appointed by the King to succeed Lord De La Warr who, to everyone’s surprise, had died at sea on a return voyage to the young but burgeoning Virginia colony. For extra measure, the King knighted Yeardley, had him provisioned to set sail, and ensured him detailed instructions from the Virginia Company to institute a comprehensive body of reforms. Those reforms would establish the rule of law based on English precedent in the home country, protect the individual rights and private property of the new Virginia landowners, and establish a General Assembly of representatives (consisting of his four councilors and 22 burgesses selected from the settlements along the James River) who would look out for the interests of the colonists. 

For the untested frontier of Virginia and the New World, this was akin to a grand experiment in democracy, and deemed necessary to ensure the continuing development and prosperity of a fledgling colony that, just nine years before, was on the brink of collapse. By 1619, however, Jamestown had expanded well beyond its original Fort, even sporting well-appointed homes of gentlemen planters, surrounded by new plantations that defined the foundations of Virginia’s embryonic economic prowess as a tobacco-exporting powerhouse. Although Yeardley and his Virginia Company instructors were not fully aware at the time of the import of the first assembly, it was unique, constituting the seed of democracy in the Western Hemisphere.

It was appropriate that the first assembly convened in an early church structure built by the colonists. It was a comparatively spacious, single-room public structure, a 50-ft. by 20-ft. timber frame constructed over a brick and cobblestone foundation in 1617 when Deputy Governor Samuel Argall was still in control of the colony. This is small by today’s standards, but back then it was enough room for the first representatives to sit themselves comfortably into the “quire” (choir) space for six days during a hot summer.

The original church structure no longer exists. It was replaced over its remaining footprint by another church, this time constructed of brick beginning in 1639 and completed at the end of the 1640’s. Overall, the site has seen a succession of four different iterations, obscuring from sight all traces of the original timber frame structure of 1617, the building in which America’s first General Assembly convened. 

Uncovering Lost Walls, and a Sensational Burial Find

It wasn’t until archaeologists began excavating within the church (now the Memorial Church, built in 1907 at the same location) in November of 2016 that excavators eventually uncovered the evidence defining the complete original dimensions and foundational features of the 1617 church. This included, among other discoveries, remnants of a clay and cobblestone wall foundation while excavating the northeast corner of the chancel area of the church, and a narrow line of a brick-capped clay and cobblestone wall foundation running north-south through the center of a unit being excavated in the old church tower at the south end of the currently standing Memorial Church. Given the excavations and research conducted to this point, and the historical record of the original 1617 church at this location, archaeologists concluded that they had finally discovered the eastern and western wall foundations of the 1617 church. Material evidence of all four walls of the church in which America’s first representative assembly had met in 1619 had not been completely destroyed.

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The brick, mortar and cobblestone foundation of the south wall of the 1617 church exposed.

But perhaps the most sensational find emerged while archaeologists were excavating within the area of the church that once featured the central east-west running aisle of the 1617 church. Here, evidence of a relatively large grave shaft was uncovered. Soil stain and multiple nails indicated that a hexagonal-shaped coffin running east-west had decayed away in this place long ago. Its shape was similar in style to those uncovered a few years before in the excavated footprint of the earlier, 1608 church (where John Rolfe and Pocahontas were married) discovered only a few yards away. In that excavation, the remains of Reverend Robert Hunt, Sir Ferdinando Wenman, Captain Gabriel Archer, and Captain William West, all known “movers and shakers” of the Jamestown settlement, were identified. They had been buried in the chancel area of the church. And like those earlier burials, the burial in what would have been the aisle of the 1617 church would have been a prime location for a prominent individual. Then, before excavating any further, the use of high-frequency GPR and the resulting data indicated the presence of bones and the orientation of a skeleton within the grave — something that had never been done before through GPR applications.

The aisle burial excavation was executed quickly, from Friday, July 21st, through Sunday, July 23rd. This was necessary because they had arranged to have Doug Owsley, renowned forensic anthropologist with the Smithsonian Institution’s Skeletal Biology Program, and his crew, participate in the examination and exhumation of the bones on Monday the 24th.

But the skeletal remains uncovered in the grave shaft were missing one critical element — the cranium. This was essential to identifying sex, origin, and facial characteristics. The cranium also contains two bones that are key to acquiring DNA samples: the petrous temporal. Understanding the evolution of the church’s material history (burial disturbance being common in 17th century churches due to space limitations), the archaeological team searched for a cranium among the church excavation finds of the past year. As it happened, there were three crania candidates, one of which had already been found in articulation with other skeletal remains, and two others. By successfully matching disarticulated teeth uncovered in the aisle burial with one of the remaining two skulls, the archaeologists were able to identify the skull that originally belonged to the skeleton in the aisle burial. They now had a skull to complete the forensic analysis, along with genomic (DNA) analysis, important for a definitive identification of the remains.

Who was this individual?

David Givens, Director of Archaeology with the Jamestown Rediscovery Historic Jamestowne Project, and his colleagues suggest this might be the remains of Governor Sir George Yeardley himself.

What are the clues that back them up? 

Givens and his team point to several things. First, the remains were found in a grave shaft located in the central aisle, near the chancel area of the 1617 church footprint — a burial location that would be reserved for a very prominent individual during that time. Second, forensic analysis of the skeletal remains revealed that this individual was male, around 40 years old, was accustomed to light work (not heavy work as would be typical for a common laborer), likely spent considerable time on horseback and/or wearing armor, and consumed foodstuffs indigenous to this New World area, indicating considerable time spent in the New World. These characteristics would have been consistent with the historical profile of George Yeardley. Thirdly, a 32″ by 68″ distinctive Belgian black limestone tombstone (dubbed the “Knight’s Tombstone”, discovered years earlier at what would have been the southern entrance to the later 1640’s brick church that was constructed over the same site ), now thought to have been originally located where the center aisle burial of the 1617 church was discovered, features engraved depressions depicting a gentleman in armor typically for that of a knight. As noted earlier, Yeardley was knighted before he left England again for the Americas. But Yeardley was one of two knights who died during the time period of the second church (c.1617 to c.1639), the other being Lord Delaware, or Sir Thomas West, the colony’s first governor. Nonetheless, researchers suggest that the tombstone was likely Yeardley’s, as the will of his step-grandson, Adam Thorowgood II, notes a request that his tombstone be engraved similarly to that depicted on the Knight’s Tombstone.

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The Knight’s Tombstone

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The Knight’s Tombstone undergoing tedious restoration.

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None of this, however, would prove to be definitive evidence attesting to the identification of the remains of George Yeardley without corroborating results from genomic, or DNA, testing. To this end, Givens and his team began collaborating with Dr. Turi King of the University of Leicester, the geneticist who previously directed genomic research to identify the remains of King Richard III in 2013. Teamed with experts from the FBI’s DNA Support Unit (DSU) laboratory, King and colleagues were able to extract enough DNA material from the remains to achieve a 75% recovery rate, which led to building a full DN sequence on the individual. While research and analysis continues, researchers suggest the possibility that the results could yield information about the individual as detailed as hair and eye color. But while the genomic research under her direction has progressed satisfactorily, the genealogical search needed to find the right living relative for the comparative DNA analysis has thus far proven to be a “sticky wicket”, as Givens phrased it. This is in part due to the fact that Yeardley’s mother was adopted, so tracing the lineage forward from her using mitochondrial DNA (a proven method long used by geneticists for such endeavors) would lead them nowhere. But tracing through his natural grandmother (mitochondrial), or his father or grandfather through Y-chromosome analysis could produce results once the right living relative could be identified through genealogical research. Enter here University of Leicester’s Kevin Schürer who, like King, was involved in the investigations to identify the remains of King Richard III. Brought in by Given’s team for his expertise in genealogical research, Schürer is endeavoring to test the recovered DNA against DNA from at least one relative in the direct line of descent from Yeardley. Thus far, Schürer has identified 26 female lines of descent four generations deep, and work continues.  

Meanwhile, forensic analysis of the bones continued to reveal new results. Owsley and his Smithsonian team have been busy developing a full forensic profile of the remains, which will tell us more about the life that belonged to the bones before death. Moreover, Dr. Peter Quinn and Dr. Greg Maslow of the University of Pennsylvania, along with others from Penn Medical, the Penn Museum and Penn Dental, have examined the remains, resulting in observations that could reveal new facts that, if the bones prove definitively to be those of Yeardley, will tell us personal medical details untold by historical documents. According to these researchers, this man suffered from a crippling ailment: osteomyelitis—a severe and painfully worsening bone infection that paints a profile of a person in declining health at the end of his life.  

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Panoramic view of the aisle burial excavation area. A sealed structure was built over the excavation area to reduce DNA contamination. The “tent” was positively charged with filtered air conditioning and all tools and equipment were sterilized prior to the dig. Excavators were donned in special suits for the same purpose. Courtesy Jamestown Rediscovery

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Director of Archaeology David Givens and Senior Staff Archaeologist Mary Anna Hartley carefully excavate maxillary incisors adhered to the first cervical vertebra of the skeleton.Using fine tools and techniques, excavating the delicate remains was a slow and meticulous process. Courtesy Jamestown Rediscovery

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A tooth recovered from the individual (adhered to the first cervical vertebra). Teeth are critical for DNA analysis. Courtesy Jamestown Rediscovery

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Overhead view of excavators hard at work on the skeletal remains. Courtesy Jamestown Rediscovery

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Overhead view of the completely excavated skeletal remains. Notice the missing skull. Courtesy Jamestown Rediscovery

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Yeardley, Slavery, and More Burials

While Yeardley played a key role in establishing the first seeds of freedom and democratic governance in the New World, some irony or incongruity is not lost on the fact that he was also among the first ‘slaveholders’ in America. Ships arrived at Point Comfort (on the coast of present-day Virginia) in 1619, the very same year of the First General Assembly, unloading a human cargo of Africans for sale to early English planters who transported them to the newly founded English colony and its surrounding developing plantations (see the article, Digging the Roots of American Slavery). Yeardley, also a prominent Virginia planter, likely became the recipient of some of these new servants.

But were these first Africans actually slaves or something more akin to indentured servants who, after a period of time, were permitted to acquire their freedom and live independent lives? The probability is high that this may have been their status, as slavery as it was codified into law in the colonies decades later did not exist at that time in the form most familiar to American history. The first Africans’ experience nonetheless arguably laid the foundation upon which the institution of slavery was born and flourished through the subsequent decades. Thus began the story of the great American paradox, a reality that has haunted American society since its inception.

Beginning in 2017, Givens and his team began excavating an area within easy walking distance east of the original James Fort location in Jamestown. Historically, it is thought to contain evidence for the property of Captain William Pierce, among those of other wealthy planters. Like his peers, Pierce was an influential planter and merchant who built an impressive house within the newly developed town east of the James Fort area (known as New Towne) in the wealthy section known as ‘Back Street’. He was also the owner of a servant known from a 1624 muster (census) that recorded the presence of 21 Africans. One of them, a female African servant referred to as ‘Angela”, was documented as being connected to the Pierce household.  Based on other historical documents, Angela is presumed to have been among the first group of Africans to arrive in Jamestown in 1619. The excavation has thus acquired the nick-name as the “Angela site”, and has been a focus of Givens’ research and investigations to define the greater James City that sprawled east of the original James Fort location. He has been working in collaboration with the National Park Service to this end.

What have they uncovered?

“A lot of people think we’re looking for Angela,” said Givens. “But that’s not what we’re doing. We’re looking at the contextual — the world in which Pierce was an actor [and by extension Angela].” And that context is slowly coming to light. Artifacts and other structural evidence of early 17th century occupation has emerged. Evidence of early 17th century posts have been uncovered at the site. Archaeologists interpret the finds as features of a gable end or addition to a house structure. But archaeology is a slow, painstakingly deliberate process, and the footprint of Jamestown in this area is exceedingly complex, given the continuous building, construction destruction and re-building, and turnover of occupants in succeeding generations of early Virginians who made their lives here. Moreover, the application of remote sensing techniques, such as LiDAR, is beginning to present some surprises, causing archaeologists to question the precise location of some town elements, such as the colonial road and other town structures that may potentially be found, possibly shifting the long-standing interpretation of the James City landscape.

GPR applications have also revealed another head-scratching development. Several burials were discovered. But these burials did not fit the pattern seen elsewhere at Jamestown — disparate, scattered in a corner lot, they defied the placement normally observed with families, lineages, or other groups on the historical landscape of Jamestown. Givens knew they had to be early burials, as no materials datable to later time periods were present at the burial locations.

This was something the archaeologists had not previously encountered. “We can’t ignore the fact that, spatially, we’re seeing something new and unique,” says Givens.

Popular Archaeology asked Givens if he had any thoughts about who these people may have been.  “Indentured servants, perhaps,” he said. This could explain the nature of the burials.

Could they be some of the first Africans? It would be difficult to know without actually excavating the burials, and that would likely not happen soon, if at all, as permissions and approvals must be obtained before initiating any excavation of skeletal remains discovered in a grave site.

For now, they remain points on a newly emerging archaeological landscape.

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Above and below: Features emerging in the excavations at the ‘Angela site’ as of late April, 2019.

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Cowrie shells had monetary and spiritual value to enslaved Africans during the 17th and 18th century in the British colonies. This cowrie shell was excavated at the ‘Angela site’ at Jamestown.

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Early Settlement of the Sahara

Cameron M. Smith completed his undergraduate studies at London’s Institute of Archaeology and Durham University, learning paleoanthropology through two field seasons at Koobi Fora, Kenya. He went on to pursue his Ph.D. in archaeology at Simon Fraser University in Canada, specializing in stone tool analysis and continuing to excavate sites worldwide. Dr. Smith is now a faculty member at Portland State University, where he teaches courses in world prehistory and field and laboratory methods. His research interests include evolution, biocultural adaptation, cognitive evolution, and the archaeology of Pacific Northwest Coast. He has published widely in research journals including Antiquity, the American Journal of Physical Anthropology and the Journal of Field Archaeology. The Atlas of Human Prehistory is one of his many books on evolution and the human past.

Editor’s Note: Recent research and excavations have uncovered evidence of very early prehistoric human occupation in locations or regions in the world long thought uninhabitable by humans in ‘deep-time’ history. Now, thanks to the painstaking research of new teams of scientists and archaeologists, we know early humans or hominins lived near ancient rivers and lakes that once dotted places like today’s Nefud and Sahara deserts, extending back hundreds of thousands of years. Here, author Cameron Smith summarizes what we know today about the early human occupation of the Sahara, a subject that has until now escaped the mainstream media and literature coverage of human prehistory. 

Today characterized by an arid and windswept environment, the Sahara—largely comprising Africa North of the Congo Basin and West of the Nile river—only a few millennia ago was substantially wetter, supporting grassland animals. But even that grassy environment was temporary, a result of one of many such fluctuations over the past few million years [1].

The earliest archaeological evidence for hominin presence in the Sahara comes from the Ain Hanech formation, Algeria, where over 1,500 Oldowan stone artifacts have recently been re-dated to confirm a date on the order of c.1.78mya (see illustration below—A)*; symmetrical Acheulean items are also present, as are flora and fauna indicating a grassy, open woodland [2]; cutmarks on bone and smashed mammal bones also indicate animal butchery and marrow extraction at this early date [3].

The next well-dated site is found at the Wadi as Shatti, Eastern Lybia; here, both asymmetrical Oldowan and symmetrical Acheulean tools are known from many surface scatter sites [4], though for several reasons the assemblage is difficult to date beyond a general date of c.500,000BP-1mya.

The earliest undisputed Saharan hominin remains date to at least 500,000BP at Thomas Quarry, Morocco, also  known as Sidi Abderrahmane. Fossil dentition here is found with the bones of many mammals including antelope, badger and seal (the site is not far from the seashore) [5].

A recently-discovered landscape ‘carpeted’ with a high density of stone tools and production debris dates to c.300,000-40,000BP (B) in the region of the Ubari Erg  in lower Lybia, [6] spans the millennia around 120,000BP, when a Trans-Saharan Corridor—a watered, vegetated drainage cutting North-South through the West-Center Sahara—might have served as a route for the recently-evolved H. sapiens to move West and East from North-Central Africa [7]; while the corridor is generally accepted, as a major route out of Africa this is not yet as well-supported as the Nile-Levant corridor or the crossing from the Horn of Africa to South-Western Arabia.

Though there appears to be a Sahara-wide arid period from c.75,000BP-10,000BP, the Uan Tabu rockshelter West-Central Lybia (West of the Ubari Erg) dates as early as 60,000BP and contains some stylistic stone tool elements suggesting connections to the Nile region [8]. Particularly arid conditions persist through about 10,000BP, during which period human populations might have concentrated at the Mediterranean and Atlantic shores, and along the Nile, where a semi-sedentary mode of foraging has been noted at Wadi Kubbaniya at c.20,000BP (C). In any case, by 10,000BP there are rock art depictions of elephants in Western Lybia (D) and (wild) camel and horse herds at Tammanraset, Algeria, just West of center of the Sahara [9]. Late in the sequence at Jebel Marah (Sudan) there are evidences of animal domestication in the forms of cattle bones dating to c.10,000BP+ [10]. Not long after, plant domestication is inferred by pottery technology at Tagalagal (Algeria) (E) [11] and sickle gloss (representing the intensive cutting of vegetation) on stone tools at Niger’s Arar Bous III site at c.5,100+BP [12], with sorghum and millet being the most common Sahran domesticates [13].

High mobility–travel from oasis to oasis–has long featured in the Sahara, and by c.3,500BP bone chemistry analysis from burials at Wadi Tannexuft (Lybia) indicate non-local in-marriage of foreign women [14], ensuring genetic diversity and health. Such travel would have employed domesticated camels, indicated by a phlanx at Sioure (Senegal) dating to c.800BP [15], but their domestication might well have occurred earlier, as in the case of domesticated giraffes depicted at Jebel Uweinat (West of the Southern Nile) around 5,000BP (F).

Native Saharan cultural origins (e.g. Berber) have roots to over 2,000BP. 

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*[However, new evidence of stone tools were recently claimed to have been discovered at Ain Boucherit in Algeria, dated to 1.9 and 2.4 million years old].

Notes

[1] A superb online guide to Saharan history and archaeology can be found at Cambridge University’s  ‘Desert Pasts’ site at http://www.human-evol.cam.ac.uk/desertpasts/resources_prehis_1.html.

[2] Pares, J.M. et al. 2014. Early Human Settlements in Northern Africa: Palaeomagnetic Evidence from the Ain Hanech Formation (Northeastern Algeria). Quaternary Science Reviews 99:203-209.

[3] Sahnouni, M. et al. 2013. The First Evidence of Cut Marks and Usewear Traces from the Plio-Pleistocene Locality of El-Kherba (Ain Hanech), Algeria: Implications for Early Hominin Subsistence Activities  circa 1.8ma. Journal of Human Evolution 64:137-150.

[4] Lahr, M. et al. 2008. DMP III: Pleistocene and Holocene Palaeoenvironments and Prehistoric Occupation of Fazzan, Libyan Sahara. Lybian Studies 2008:1-32.

[5] Raynal, J-P. et al. 2010. Hominid Cave at Thomas Quarry 1 (Casablanca, Morocco): Recent Findings and Their Context. Quaternary International 223-224:369-382.

[6] Foley, R.A. and M.M. Lahr. 2015. Lithic Landscapes: Early Human Impact from Stone Tool Production on the Central Saharan Environment. PLOS One doi:10.1371/journal. pone.0116482.

[7] Osborne, A.H. et al. 2008. A Humid Corridor Across the Sahara for the Migration of Early Modern Humans out of Africa 120,000 Years Ago. Procedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States 105(43):16444-16447.

[8] Van Peer, P. 1998. The Nile Corridor and the Out-of-Africa Model: An Examination of the Archaeological Record. Cultural Anthropology 39:S115-140.

[9] Lajoux, J-D. 1962. The Marvels of Tassili N’Ajjer. Paris, Editions du chene.

[10] Marshall, F. and E. Hildebrand. 2002. Cattle Before Crops: the Beginnings of Food Production in Africa. Journal of World Prehistory 16(2):99-143.

[11] Haour, A.C. 2003. One Hundred Years of Archaeology in Niger. Journal of World Prehistory 17(2):181-234.

[12] See p.128 of  #10 above.

[13] Wendorf, F. et al. 1992. Saharan Exploitation of Plants 8,000 Years BP. Nature 359:721-724.

[14] Tafuri et al. 2006. Mobility and Kinship in the Prehistoric Sahara: Strontium Isotope Analysis of Holocene Human Skeletons from the Acacus Mts (Southwestern Lybia). Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 25:390-402.

[15] MacDonald, Kevin C. and R.H. MacDonald 2000. The Origins and Development of Domesticated Animals in Arid West Africa. In Blench, R.M. and K.C. MacDonald. 2000. (eds),The Origins and Development of African Livestock: Archaeology, Genetics, Linguistics and Ethnography. 127–62. London: University College Press.

Cover image, top left: Araibia Amine, Wikimedia Commons

From An Atlas of Human Prehistory by Cameron Smith. Copyright © 2019 by Cognella, Inc. Republished by permission.

Smith’s Atlas of Human Prehistory provides a very readable and broad overview of the evidence for the human prehistoric presence and journey across the globe. Readers who wish to purchase the volume may obtain it at the Cognella publisher website.

Revealing Early Bronze Age Village Life at Tel Yaqush

Arianna Zakrzewski is an intern and writer for Popular Archaeology. She is also a graduate from Rhode Island College with a Bachelor’s degree in Anthropology. She has had an interest in archaeology since elementary school, specifically Egyptology and the Classics. In recent years, she has also gained an interest in historical archaeology, and has spent time in the field working in St. Mary’s City, Maryland, participating in excavation and archival research. Most recently, she completed her MA in Museum Studies from Johns Hopkins University. She is currently focused on collections management and making archaeological discoveries accessible and exciting to the public.

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The Archaeology of Rock-Art

P. J. DeMola is a postgraduate of the School of Archaeology and Ancient History at the University of Leicester in England.
His principle areas of interest are Roman history, archaeology, and politics, as well as Bronze Age Mesopotamia, and the political history of Middle Kingdom through Late Period Ancient Egypt. He has broad general interests in both Classic and Postclassic Mesoamerican sociopolitical structures.
Paul has studied Ancient Greek and Latin under Professor Graham Shipley, FRHistS, FSA (University of Leicester, British School at Athens), and researched Roman military history with Professor Simon James, FSA (University of Leicester).

Stone carvings and painted imagery bear some of the earliest forms of human communication. In place of written words, numerous cultures employed artistic representations to communicate ideas, thoughts, and beliefs. From the American southwest to the outback of Australia, I examine how this form of art was utilized by dissociate and quite different cultures to relate a variety of sociocultural events.

Introduction

The immense complexity regarding rock-art is as grand in scale and diverse in nature as the landscape it adores (ARB 2013: 68). It is an area of study that encompasses numerous geographical regions strewn over millennia and is reflected in and a sign of disparate religious practices, sociopolitical structures and economic communities (Flood 2004: 191-96; Whitley 2005: 93-94). Broadly, it may be argued that where rock-art is found, it is part of a larger landscape where varying inter or intra cultural events were expressed through a numerous array of symbolic imagery in an almost linguistic fashion (Ouzman 1998: 30-32; Solomon 1998: 271). However, while rock-art is a cognitive expression wrought by human hands, the ‘meaning’ or purpose of the ‘art’ is sometimes obscured in a myriad of sociocultural variables (Taçon and Chippindale 1998a: 1-6).

For example, certain forms of rock-art may have had an active role in shaping a society’s beliefs and customs, while other forms could have been influenced by natural surroundings. Consequently, rock-art may be interpreted as fulfilling a practical function for an individual, community or society (ARB 2013: 66-67). That being said, studies on rock-art range from the role natural phenomena played vis-à-vis the selection of site and the impact a society’s beliefs may have had on an image’s features; to the degree that a belief system influenced the art or was itself (re)shaped by it in successive generations (Chippendale and Taçon 1998a: 2). As such, rock art’s symbolism forms an important part of a wider cultural narrative (Whitley 2005: 80-85).

To help decode some of these pictographic puzzles, archaeologists often turn to ethnography. As is known to many, ethnographic studies have been an important ally for both historical and prehistoric scholars (Johnson 2010: 21-22, 53-54). In order to discuss how ethnographically informed approaches may contribute to the archaeological study of rock-art, I will examine case studies from two continents. Accordingly, this article will be separated into two distinct geographical segments 1) North America, and 2) Australia. In each case, I shall examine many aspects of rock-art in light of ethnographic materials. All the while, I will endeavor to underscore cross-categorical topics such as social beliefs, rituals and warfare.

Part I: North America

Religious practices

Like the words of a sentence, rock-art is not a collection of randomly assigned symbols with no coherent meaning. There is an ordered structure to the iconography, even if it is not a grammatical order, per se (Whitley 2005: 81). Two cases in point may be found among the Californian (c. AD 1-1800) and Great Basin (c. 16,500 BC-AD 500) traditions. Drawing from ethnographic data, reoccurring patterns of rock-art in both regions are seen as evidence of a broad western North American sociocultural tradition extending from the archaic period down to the present day (Whitley 1998: 14). In addition, the data acquired from more recent hunter-gatherer tribes has inferred that the practice of creating rock-art was itself part of cultural ritual where the individual symbols did not necessarily possess a grammatical meaning but did have specific functions within diverse ceremonies (Whitley 1998: 14-15; ARB 2013: 93).

For example, certain forms of rock-art have been interpreted as a ritualistic expression of shamans engaged in communicating with supernatural entities while in an altered state of consciousness (Whitley 1998: 15-18; See also Rossano 2011: 47). The purpose of many such ceremonies was to enhance one’s perception by channeling mystical or paranormal energies known generally as ‘medicine power’ (Keyser and Klassen 2001: 35, 55-56). In addition, it has been inferred that parallels found within the iconography of both traditions results from the shared neuropsychological reactions of human beings in a psychedelic state (Whitley 1998: 14). This is supported by ethnography involving the San people of southern Africa, where hallucinogenically induced images are known as ‘trance metaphors’ (Solomon 1998: 270-72). Consequently, certain rock-art examples may be interpreted as the first-person account of these events.

However, ethnographic data has also suggested that certain rock-art forms highlight social events involving non-shaman communal members. For instance, adolescent females have been identified as the makers of panels consisting of monochrome handprints juxtaposed with rattlesnake ‘zigzags’ (Whitley 1998: 16, 18-21). These images were part of a ceremony to mark the sexual maturity of the young women. Interestingly, the shamanistic image of the rattlesnake clearly has a religious connotation (see below). However, here it is found as an integral part of an event that is both biological and social in practice. Accordingly, it may be argued that certain symbols did not represent the material or celestial worlds in isolation from one another. Rather, they may have been intended to communicate spiritual insight or psychic commentary on everyday human issues (Whitley 1998: 15; See also Whitley 2005: 84-85). Consequently, any preconceived line between the sacred and more ‘mundane’ aspects of the world becomes muddled (Whitley 1998: 18, Cf. 24-26). Perhaps religious beliefs while distinguishable were also inseparable from secular functions. In any case, ethnographic approaches regarding shamanism have helped to elucidate the physical conditions under which the rock-art was created.

Great Plains Tradition

An analogous pattern of symbols may also be observed in southern Canada at the site of Writing-On-Stone. Here, ethnographic studies of the symbols have categorized static petroglyphs as ‘iconic’. That is to say, certain symbols are part of ‘medicine imagery’ and as such possessed a specific spiritual function within the community (Klassen 1998: 44). For example, individual signs, such as Shield Figures, relate the belief that body shields possessed sacred properties, capable of being transferred to the owner of the shield (Klassen 1998: 45, 47-49). Moreover, recent ethnographic accounts from the Blackfoot have interpreted some symbols, such as muskets, as reflecting the tribal practice of ‘counting of coup’ — itself a spiritual custom (Klassen 1998: 50). Thus, the point of contact between the rock-art and the native warrior could be seen as a window into a ‘celestial’ realm (Klassen 1998: 44-45). This begs the question: did the geological landscape influence the placement of rock-art? And if so, what relationship do the symbols have with the rock features within the landscape?

Canvassing the Landscape

Interestingly, ethnographic data has revealed that the places where rock-art was positioned were not simple blank canvases but functional landscapes, consciously selected because of their natural phenomena (Whitley 1998: 16). For example, features such as caves, stone cliffs and crevices were viewed as apertures into another world (Cf. ARB 2013: 94). For that reason, it is not uncommon to find these areas adorned with cultural symbols. Turning to an archaeological site in the Colorado Desert, zigzag motifs evoking the rattlesnake are positioned at clefts in the rocks (Whitley 1998: 17-18). Fascinatingly, one figure possesses a human head, arms and hands attached to the body of a serpent (Whitley 1998: 17). Moreover, it appears that this ‘snake’ is entering/exiting a fissure in the stone.

Given the indigenous associations between shamanism and rattlesnake iconography, it may be deduced that this image depicts a shaman metamorphosing into a serpent, or conversely as a serpent into a shaman, as it moves in between the supernatural and physical worlds as part of a ritual ‘vision quest’ (Whitley 1998: 18-21). Similarly, according to the Blackfoot, the landscape of the Great Plains played an important role in the ritual experiences of shamans. Here, the geology of the land — appropriately titled ‘hoodoo’ — most likely offered a euphoric experience for the shaman entering an altered state of consciousness (Klassen 1998: 42-43, 69). Such associations between the rock-art’s landscape and the sacred are not restricted to shaman usage. For example, in the Columbia Plateau of the northwest, Native Americans revere one very painted cave as the abode of the creator god Gmok’am’c (Keyser and Poetschat 2004: 121; Cf. Whitley 1998: 22). Thus, it may be argued that rock-art occasionally functioned as signposts to otherworld portals.

Narratives of Conflict

In contrast to more isolated symbols, some rock-art signs form the part of a larger, more literal cultural narrative. As such, their position in respect to each other becomes essential to interpretation. For example, in the (Great) Plains Biographical Tradition (c. AD 1725-1850), the ritual ‘ceremonial’ Shield Figures were utilized as part of a fluid rock-art mural (Klassen 1998: 43). Here, groups of images depict social interaction, such as acts of valor and courageous deeds (Whitley 2005: 101-02). A case in point is a depiction of a Shield Figure challenging a mounted warrior equipped with what appears to be (European?) horse armor (Klassen 1998: 57).

While it is conceivable that this specimen reflects an encounter with a Spanish conquistador, it is perhaps more likely to reflect the adoption of horse armor by natives, as is seen in other Mounted Horse motifs and attested to by ethnographic sources (Mitchell 2004: 116, 118-23; Klassen 1998: 54, 56). Other scenes contain various arrangements of Shield Figures, foot soldiers (‘pedestrians’) and equestrian warriors (Klassen 1998: 54-55, 57, 60-63). By carefully analyzing their size and proportion in relation to each other, the images are clearly indicative of conflict, either among individuals within the same tribe, amidst warriors from rival tribes, or between Europeans and Native Americans (Klassen 1998: 55, 64).

It should be noted here that unlike the ‘iconic’ style, narrative imagery — or narrativity — appears to be more focused on the mundane events of everyday life. However, narrativity has also had an important historical association with sacred social customs such as ‘counting of coup’ (Klassen 1998: 54, 60-61, 67-68; Tovías 2011: 21-22, 142; See also Mitchell 2004: 115). This has been suggested by the Blackfoot whose unique use of magical ‘medicine bundles’ on horses are quite visible on the narrative rock-art. Collectively, a complex degree of integration between the sacred and more secular aspects of society becomes evident (Cf. Klassen 1998: 59-60, 68).

In the same way, the evolution of static ‘ceremonial’ symbols into panels depicting fluid action may be reflective of increases in the social complexity of the communities (Klassen 1998: 65-67). Consequently, any ‘variations’ detected in rock-art — such as proportion, color or size — may be the result of internal structural variables within clans, changes related to contact with outside forces, or some combination of the two (Klassen 1998: 69, Cf. 44; Mitchell 2004: 125; Howey and O’Shea 2009: 199). A critical analysis by archaeologists regarding the veracity of ethnographic approaches to rock-art has pointed out that changes in ‘culture’ — including beliefs and practices — have a stylistic impact on rock-art symbolism (Schaafsma 2013: 30). Regardless, it is unlikely that examining ethnicity alone will explain changes to rock-art forms (ARB 2013: 73).

Contradictions

While the many aspects of rock-art sites may be established through ethnographic resources, sometimes ethnographic approaches are not very clear, or may be contradicted by other forms of evidence. For example, in the Four Corners region, Hopi ethnography has been instrumental in identifying certain motifs as clan ‘signatures’, thus allowing an interpretation as to the ethnic origin of some rock-art panels (OGCD 1995: 142; Whitley 2005: 96). However, Hopi traditions disagree with their own ethnographic accounts as well. For instance, in a bizarre use of circular reasoning, the Hopi have ascribed various cosmological attributes to their god Kokopelli, based on their assertion that unidentified kachina glyphs represent early forms of Kokopelli (Malotki 2004: 7-12).

In addition, the Hopi have misrepresented prehistoric ‘masklike’ images while being interviewed by scholars, stating that the ‘masks’ are part of Hopi kachnina iconography. This they maintained even though material evidence suggests that these interpretations are anachronistic (Schaafsma 2013: 30-31). This is unsurprising though. The Hopi define many prehistoric rock-art sites, especially those created by the Anasazi, by their own ancestral traditions. For example, a Hopi interpretation of prehistoric (Anasazi) concentric circles is that it refers to Ancestral Pueblo migration narratives regarding the Hopi (Wilson 1998: 181). However, such an assertion requires the assumption that a cultural continuity exists between the Anasazi and Hopi. In any case, these examples showcase how evolving religious beliefs amongst indigenous people may affect how rock-art is interpreted by successive generations. Moreover, it highlights how current social perceptions and bias may influence analysis. This should always be taken into consideration while making use of ethnographic sources (ARB 2013: 78).

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PART II: Australia

Ancestral Traditions and Rock-Art

Like is found in other continents, Australian rock-art is strongly associated with the ancient beliefs of the indigenous people and their cosmological views. That being said, ethnographic data has enabled scholars to illuminate the ‘sacred relationship’ that underpins the religious belief, social identity and human geography of various clan groups (David et al. 1994: 242; ARB 2013: 69; Cf. ‘Places of Power’ in Colson 1997: 48-52). For instance, Aboriginal explanations regarding rock-art frequently associate the local geological features with the physical activities of totemic deities (Flood 2004: 183; Whitley 2005: 96). Ancient waterholes and caves, for example, are revered as the product of primordial Ancestral Beings. These cosmological views are part of the complex belief system known as buwarraja, or ‘Dreaming-time’, the period of Earth’s creation (David 2006: 57; ARB 2013: 69-70; Chippendale and Taçon 1998b: 92). Consequently, many rock-shelters possess a combination of natural features and symbolism which evoke these ontological conceptions (Flood 2004: 194).

A case in point may be seen at the cavernous site of Wirlin.gunyang in northern Australia. Here, according to myth, the god Gorrondolmi upon completing his ‘Dreaming Track’ journey, made a self-portrait which included his wife (Flood 2004: 189-90). The painted images positioned directly above a waterhole. However, there is also a practical — and quite secular — calculation behind certain sites and their iconography which might also be applicable here. For example, ethnographic records from Aboriginal seasonal camps suggest that sites such as Yingalarri and Garnawala, were chosen because they were shelters which afforded natural resources (Flood 2004: 193, 195). Hence, it may be posited that Wirlin.gunyang doubled as a seasonal shelter for prehistoric Aboriginals. Regardless, the great mural of Gorrondolmi and his bride underscore the linkage between Aboriginal beliefs involving the creation of the Earth and the local geography.

The Narrative of the Stone

Another aspect of Australian rock-art is the unique function it has in defining social space. This is because ethnic regions are identified, in part, by their respected iconography and cultural affiliation (Layton 1992: 62). For example, the Kunwinjku people of the Arnhem Land are widely associated with the rock-art of Oenpelli (May 2008: 173). Among the various images found at Oenpelli, the most common are the Mimi. These are images of ‘minor’ sacred beings which according to ethnographic accounts, instructed the Kunwinjku in select social customs (Layton 1992: 79-80). In addition, certain images — such as totemic gods — may act as a historical marker on the landscape (David et al. 1994: 242-44; McDonald and Veth 2006: 106-07; Cf. McDonald 1998: 324). For example, at Yiwarlarlay and Garnawala, the location of images such as the Lightning Brothers and Rainbow Serpent, may reflect a narrative involving social changes such as migration (David et al. 1994: 247-50).

Early rock-art

But how old are these beliefs? Perhaps an answer can be found in the Panaramitee Tradition of South Australia. While dated to the Late Pleistocene, Panaramitee imagery, such as geometric signs, possess a stylistic affinity with other regional varieties of rock-art (Flood 2004: 185-86). Were the ancient Panaramitee signs meant to represent a Dreaming Track of ancestral gods? Possibly. For example, concentric circles found in Panaramitee rock-art may be interpreted as totemic references to deities (Taçon 2001: 540; Layton 2001: 324-25). Of course, to conjecture this one must utilize conflicting data from ethnographic sources which is not a sound practice (Munn 2006: 331).

In a similar fashion, using Aboriginal ethnography, one may infer the meaning of an example of Upper Paleolithic rock-art: cupules. A uniquely pitted rock-art pattern, the ‘cupule’ has been dated to c. 15,000 B.C. (Taçon 2001: 537). However, unlike the Dreaming iconography, the data suggests that cupules are linked to a fertility ritual which involved the striking of stone to release a ‘spirit essence’ (Flood 2004: 191-92; Cf. Taçon 1999: 46). This is inferred from ethnohistorical accounts. If this interpretation is correct, it may be inferred that a side effect of rock-art production — generating rock-dust — was among the first Australian rock-art rituals.

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Conclusion: ‘Only the rocks live forever…’

In this essay, I have attempted to show the significant role ethnography plays in the archaeological research of rock-art. Beginning in North America, I examined shamanistic practices and their associations with the rock-art landscapes of the Great Basin and Californian traditions, before moving to the Great Plains were I discussed changes in iconographic styles over time. Turning south to the Four Corners, I emphasized how cultural traditions may negatively impact archaeological studies of rock-art. Finally, while analyzing Australia, I drew attention to the special bond rock-art has with Aboriginal beliefs and societal customs.

In all cases throughout this essay, I have underscored themes related to the cultural sites examined and attempted to relate these to informed approaches. Topics such as shamanism, warfare and the natural formations of landscape were linked to rock-art by ethnographic accounts involving a diverse range of cultures. In summation, I hope I have illuminated a small chapter in the great saga of rock-art research. As the fictional Arapaho warrior Gray Wolf said to a young Lame Beaver in the epic Centennial: ‘only the rocks live forever’ (Michener 1974: 130). If that is true, then both rock-art and its research have an enduring place on the landscape.

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Gorillas found to have ‘complex societies,’ suggesting deep roots of human social evolution

UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE—Gorillas have more complex social structures than previously thought, from lifetime bonds forged between distant relations, to “social tiers” with striking parallels to traditional human societies, according to a new study.

The findings suggest that the origins of our own social systems stretch back to the common ancestor of humans and gorillas, rather than arising from the “social brain” of hominins after diverging from other primates, say researchers.

Published in the journal Proceedings of the Royal Society B, the study used over six years of data from two research sites in the Republic of Congo, where scientists documented the social exchanges of hundreds of western lowland gorillas.

“Studying the social lives of gorillas can be tricky,” said lead author Dr Robin Morrison, a biological anthropologist from the University of Cambridge. “Gorillas spend most of their time in dense forest, and it can take years for them to habituate to humans.”

“Where forests open up into swampy clearings, gorillas gather to feed on the aquatic vegetation. Research teams set up monitoring platforms by these clearings and record the lives of gorillas from dawn to dusk over many years.”

Some data came from a project in the early 2000s*, but most of the study’s observational data was collected from the Mbeli Bai clearing**, run by the Wildlife Conservation Society, where scientists have recorded gorilla life stories for over 20 years.

Gorillas live in small family units – a dominant male and several females with offspring – or as solitary male “bachelors”. Morrison, who has worked at Mbeli, used statistical algorithms to reveal patterns of interaction between family groups and individuals in the datasets.

By analyzing the frequency and length of “associations”, she found hitherto undetermined social layers. Beyond immediate family, there was a tier of regular interaction – an average of 13 gorillas – that maps closely to “dispersed extended family” in traditional human societies e.g. aunts; grandparents; cousins.

Beyond that, a further tier of association involved an average of 39 gorillas, similar to an “aggregated group” that spends time together without necessarily being closely related. “An analogy to early human populations might be a tribe or small settlement, like a village,” said Morrison.

Where dominant males (“silverbacks”) were half-siblings they were more likely to be in the same “tribe”. But over 80% of the close associations detected were between more distantly related – or even apparently unrelated – silverbacks.

“Females spend time in multiple groups throughout their lives, making it possible for males not closely related to grow up in the same natal group, similar to step-brothers,” said Morrison. “The bonds that form may lead to these associations we see as adults.”

“If we think of these associations in a human-centric way, the time spent in each other’s company might be analogous to an old friendship,” she said.

Occasionally, when lots of young males “disperse” from their families at the same time but are not yet ready to strike out on their own, they form “all-male bachelor groups” for a while. The researchers suggest this could be another bond-forming period.

The team uncovered hints of an even higher social tier of “periodic aggregations”, similar to an annual gathering or festival based around “fruiting events”, although these are too infrequent to detect with certainty from this study’s data.

In fact, Morrison and colleagues argue that sporadic fruiting schedules of the gorillas’ preferred foods may be one reason why they – and consequently maybe we – evolved this “hierarchical social modularity”.

“Western gorillas often move many kilometers a day to feed from a diverse range of plants that rarely and unpredictably produce fruit,” said Morrison. “This food is easier to find if they collaborate when foraging.”

“Gorillas spend a lot of their early life in the family group, helping to train them for foraging. Other long-term social bonds and networks would further aid cooperation and collective memory for tracking down food that’s hard to find.”

A small number of mammal species have a similar social structure to humans. These species also rely on “idiosyncratic” food sources – whether forest elephants hunting irregular fruitings, or the mercurial fish schools sought by dolphins – and all have spatial memory centers in their brain to rival those of humans.

Before now, the species on this short list were evolutionarily distant from humans. Our closest relatives, chimpanzees, live in small territorial groups with fluctuating alliances that are highly aggressive – often violent – with neighbors.

As such, one theory for human society is that it required the evolution of a particularly large and sophisticated “social brain” unique to the hominin lineage.

However, Morrison and colleagues say the addition of gorillas to this list suggests the simplest explanation may be that our social complexity evolved much earlier, and is instead merely absent from the chimpanzee lineage.

“The scaling ratio between each social tier in gorillas matches those observed not just in early human societies, but also baboons, toothed whales and elephants,” added Morrison, from Cambridge’s Department of Archaeology.

“While primate societies vary a lot between species, we can now see an underlying structure in gorillas that was likely present before our species diverged, one that fits surprisingly well as a model for human social evolution.”

“Our findings provide yet more evidence that these endangered animals are deeply intelligent and sophisticated, and that we humans are perhaps not quite as special as we might like to think.”

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Young gorillas take a break from feeding to socialize. Wildlife Conservation Society

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Three western gorilla groups (Conan, Morpheus and Zulu) mingle peacefully as they feed at the Mbeli Bai clearing in the Nouabale-Ndoki National Park, Republic of Congo. Wildlife Conservation Society

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Article Source: University of Cambridge news release

Notes:

*A combination of observational and genetic data – the latter obtained through fecal samples – that had been collected from the Lokoue site between 2001-2002 formed part of the study’s sample.

**The Mbeli Bai clearing is located in the Nouabale-Ndoki National Park, and managed by the Nouabale-Ndoki Foundation, a public private partnership between the Congolese Government and Wildlife Conservation Society Congo Program.

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Dental evidence of human admixture in Asia

PROCEEDINGS OF THE NATIONAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCES—A study* describes a rare three-rooted lower molar in an archaic human in China as well as the corresponding implications for the history of human evolution in Asia. The presence of a third root on lower molars is rare, occurring in less than 3.5% of non-Asian humans, but can be found in up to 40% of populations derived from China and the New World. Other Homo sapiens fossils have been found in Asia that exhibit archaic traits that may have come from admixture with Denisovans. Shara E. Bailey and colleagues discovered a three-rooted lower molar in a 160,000-year-old Denisovan mandible from China. Previously, researchers thought that the three-rooted molar developed in Asian populations of H. sapiens well after their dispersal from the African continent, with a known case in H. sapiens from the Philippines that may be as old as 47,000 years. However, the presence of the three-rooted molar in a Denisovan that pre-dates H. sapiens dispersal, suggests that the trait is much older than previously thought. According to the authors, the three-rooted molar trait may have passed into modern Asian human populations when dispersing H. sapiens interbred with Denisovans.

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A three-rooted lower second molar in a Denisovan individual from Xiahe, China. Jean-Jacques Hublin

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A three-rooted lower first molar and its corresponding jaw in a recent Asian individual. Christine Lee (California State University, Los Angeles, CA)

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Article Source: PNAS news release

*”Rare dental trait provides morphological evidence of archaic introgression in Asian fossil record,” by Shara E. Bailey, Jean-Jacques Hublin, and Susan C. Antón.

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Murder in the Paleolithic? Evidence of violence behind human skull remains

PLOS—New analysis of the fossilized skull of an Upper Paleolithic man suggests that he died a violent death, according to a study published July 3, 2019 in the open-access journal PLOS ONE by an international team from Greece, Romania and Germany led by the Eberhard Karls Universität Tübingen, Germany

The fossilized skull of a Paleolithic adult man, known as the Cioclovina calvaria, was originally uncovered in a cave in South Transylvania and is thought to be around 33,000 years old. Since its discovery, this fossil has been extensively studied. Here, the authors reassessed trauma on the skull–specifically a large fracture on the right aspect of the cranium which has been disputed in the past–in order to evaluate whether this specific fracture occurred at the time of death or as a postmortem event.

The authors conducted experimental trauma simulations using twelve synthetic bone spheres, testing scenarios such as falls from various heights as well as single or double blows from rocks or bats. Along with these simulations, the authors inspected the fossil both visually and virtually using computed tomography technology.

The authors found there were actually two injuries at or near the time of death: a linear fracture at the base of the skull, followed by a depressed fracture on the right side of the cranial vault. The simulations showed that these fractures strongly resemble the pattern of injury resulting from consecutive blows with a bat-like object; the positioning suggests the blow resulting in the depressed fracture came from a face-to-face confrontation, possibly with the bat in the perpetrator’s left hand. The researchers’ analysis indicates that the two injuries were not the result of accidental injury, post-mortem damage, or a fall alone.

While the fractures would have been fatal, only the fossilized skull has been found so it’s possible that bodily injuries leading to death might also have been sustained. Regardless, the authors state that the forensic evidence described in this study points to an intentionally-caused violent death, suggesting that homicide was practiced by early humans during the Upper Paleolithic.

The authors add: “The Upper Paleolithic was a time of increasing cultural complexity and technological sophistication. Our work shows that violent interpersonal behaviour and murder was also part of the behavioural repertoire of these early modern Europeans.”

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Right lateral view of the Cioclovina calvaria exhibiting a large depressed fracture. Kranoti et al, 2019

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*Kranioti EF, Grigorescu D, Harvati K (2019) State of the art forensic techniques reveal evidence of interpersonal violence ca. 30,000 years ago. PLoS ONE 14(7): e0216718. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0216718

Article Source: PLOS ONE news release

Ancient DNA sheds light on the origins of the Biblical Philistines

MAX PLANCK INSTITUTE FOR THE SCIENCE OF HUMAN HISTORY—An international team, led by scientists from the Max Planck Institute for the Science of Human History and the Leon Levy Expedition, retrieved and analyzed, for the first time, genome-wide data from people who lived during the Bronze and Iron Age (~3,600-2,800 years ago) in the ancient port city of Ashkelon, one of the core Philistine cities during the Iron Age. The team found that a European derived ancestry was introduced in Ashkelon around the time of the Philistines’ estimated arrival, suggesting that ancestors of the Philistines migrated across the Mediterranean, reaching Ashkelon by the early Iron Age. This European related genetic component was subsequently diluted by the local Levantine gene pool over the succeeding centuries, suggesting intensive admixture between local and foreign populations. These genetic results, published in Science Advances, are a critical step toward understanding the long-disputed origins of the Philistines.

The Philistines are famous for their appearance in the Hebrew Bible as the arch-enemies of the Israelites. However, the ancient texts tell little about the Philistine origins other than a later memory that the Philistines came from “Caphtor” (a Bronze Age name for Crete; Amos 9:7). More than a century ago, Egyptologists proposed that a group called the Peleset in texts of the late twelfth century BCE were the same as the Biblical Philistines. The Egyptians claimed that the Peleset travelled from the “the islands,” attacking what is today Cyprus and the Turkish and Syrian coasts, finally attempting to invade Egypt. These hieroglyphic inscriptions were the first indication that the search for the origins of the Philistines should be focused in the late second millennium BCE. From 1985-2016, the Leon Levy Expedition to Ashkelon, a project of the Harvard Semitic Museum, took up the search for the origin of the Philistines at Ashkelon, one of the five “Philistine” cities according to the Hebrew Bible. Led by its founder, the late Lawrence E. Stager, and then by Daniel M. Master, an author of the study and director of the Leon Levy Expedition to Ashkelon, the team found substantial changes in ways of life during the 12th century BCE which they connected to the arrival of the Philistines. Many scholars, however, argued that these cultural changes were merely the result of trade or a local imitation of foreign styles and not the result of a substantial movement of people.

This new study represents the culmination of more than thirty years of archaeological work and of genetic research utilizing state of the art technologies, concluding that the advent of the Philistines in the southern Levant involved a movement of people from the west during the Bronze to Iron Age transition.

Genetic discontinuity between the Bronze and Iron Age people of Ashkelon

The researchers successfully recovered genomic data from the remains of 10 individuals who lived in Ashkelon during the Bronze and Iron Age. This data allowed the team to compare the DNA of the Bronze and Iron Age people of Ashkelon to determine how they were related. The researchers found that individuals across all time periods derived most of their ancestry from the local Levantine gene pool, but that individuals who lived in early Iron Age Ashkelon had a European derived ancestral component that was not present in their Bronze Age predecessors.

“This genetic distinction is due to European-related gene flow introduced in Ashkelon during either the end of the Bronze Age or the beginning of the Iron Age. This timing is in accord with estimates of the Philistines arrival to the coast of the Levant, based on archaeological and textual records,” explains Michal Feldman of the Max Planck Institute for the Science of Human History, leading author of the study. “While our modelling suggests a southern European gene pool as a plausible source, future sampling could identify more precisely the populations introducing the European-related component to Ashkelon.”

Transient impact of the “European related” gene flow

In analyzing later Iron Age individuals from Ashkelon, the researchers found that the European related component could no longer be traced. “Within no more than two centuries, this genetic footprint introduced during the early Iron Age is no longer detectable and seems to be diluted by a local Levantine related gene pool,” states Choongwon Jeong of the Max Planck Institute of the Science of Human History, one of the corresponding authors of the study.

“While, according to ancient texts, the people of Ashkelon in the first millennium BCE remained ‘Philistines’ to their neighbors, the distinctiveness of their genetic makeup was no longer clear, perhaps due to intermarriage with Levantine groups around them,” notes Master.

“This data begins to fill a temporal gap in the genetic map of the southern Levant,” explains Johannes Krause of the Max Planck Institute for the Science of Human History, senior author of the study. “At the same time, by the zoomed-in comparative analysis of the Ashkelon genetic time transect, we find that the unique cultural features in the early Iron Age are mirrored by a distinct genetic composition of the early Iron Age people.”

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Excavation of the Philistine Cemetery at Ashkelon. Melissa Aja. Courtesy Leon Levy Expedition to Ashkelon

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Photograph of infant burial. Robert Walch, Leon Levy Expedition to Ashkelon

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Excavation of the Philistine Cemetery at Ashkelon. Melissa Aja, Leon Levy Expedition to Ashkelon

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Reconstruction of a Philistine House from the 12th Century B.C.E. Balage Balogh, Leon Levy Expedition to Ashkelon

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Article Source: Max Planck Institute for the Science of Human History and Science Advances (images) news release.

Bonobo diet of aquatic greens may hold clues to human evolution

BIOMED CENTRAL—Observations of bonobos in the Congo basin foraging in swamps for aquatic herbs rich in iodine, a critical nutrient for brain development and higher cognitive abilities, may explain how the nutritional needs of prehistoric humans in the region were met. This is the first report of iodine consumption by a nonhuman primate and it is published in the open access journal BMC Zoology.

Dr. Gottfried Hohmann, from the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology, the lead author of the study said: “Our results have implications for our understanding of the immigration of prehistoric human populations into the Congo basin. Bonobos as a species can be expected to have similar iodine requirements to humans, so our study offers – for the first time – a possible answer on how pre-industrial human migrants may have survived in the Congo basin without artificial supplementation of iodine.”

The researchers made behavioural observations of two bonobo communities in the LuiKotale forest in Salonga National Park, Democratic Republic of Congo. These observations were combined with data on the iodine content of plants eaten by bonobos from an ongoing study by the Leibniz Institute for Zoo and Wildlife Research, Berlin. They found that the aquatic herbs consumed by bonobos are a surprisingly rich natural source of iodine in the Congo basin, a region that was previously thought to be scarce in iodine sources.

Dr. Hohmann said: “Evolutionary scenarios suggest that major developments of human evolution are associated with living in coastal areas, which offer a diet that triggered brain development in hominins. The results of our study suggest that consumption of aquatic herbs from swamps in forest habitat could have contributed to satisfying the iodine requirements of hominin populations used to diets prevalent in coastal environments.”

He added: “Our report potentially answers the question of how apes obtain iodine from natural food sources, when many populations inhabit areas considered to be iodine deficient. Other apes such as chimpanzees and gorillas have also been observed eating aquatic herbs, which suggests that they could be obtaining essential iodine from these sources.”

The authors caution that without data on the iodine status of wild bonobos, it is difficult to tell how much iodine they absorb, although given the high concentrations in the herbs, it is likely to be substantial. The authors also stress that the iodine concentrations obtained at the field site of LuiKotale may not be reflective of the entire Congo basin.

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Luikotale Bonobo with aquatic goodies. Zana Clay, LuiKotale Bonobo Project

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Article Source: Biomed Central news release.

Fishing for iodine: what aquatic foraging by bonobos tells us about human evolution 
Hohmann et al. BMC Zoology 2019  DOI: 10.1186/s40850-019-0043-z

Newly-discovered 1,600-year-old mosaic sheds light on ancient Judaism

UNC-Chapel Hill—Dr. Jodi Magness, Kenan Distinguished Professor for Teaching Excellence in Early Judaism in the Department of Religious Studies in UNC-Chapel Hill’s College of Arts & Sciences, has now completed nine consecutive excavation seasons at the ancient site of the Late Roman synagogue of Huqoq in Israel’s Lower Galilee. Her excavations have revealed the remains of a 1,600-year-old Jewish synagogue, featuring detailed mosaic art that helps to open a window on the world of Judaism between the fourth and sixth centuries CE. Most recently, Magness and her team discovered a mosaic that depicts the first-ever scene from a biblical story from Exodus.

With each excavation season, the students and researchers build on what little is known about the fifth century CE Jewish community of Huqoq and the artists who crafted depictions of biblical stories with tiny cubes of stone, or tesserae.

Dr. Magness explains her team’s newest findings and how the art they find connects them to texts written thousands of years ago:

Question: If you could name the biggest new discovery of this summer, what would it be?

Answer: I couldn’t name just one from this summer’s work, so how about two big discoveries?

First: Chapter 7 in the book of Daniel describes four beasts which represent the four kingdoms leading up to the end of days. This year our team discovered mosaics in the synagogue’s north aisle depicting these four beasts, as indicated by a fragmentary Aramaic inscription referring to the first beast: a lion with eagle’s wings. The lion itself is not preserved, nor is the third beast.  However, the second beast from Daniel 7:4 – a bear with three ribs protruding from its mouth – is preserved. So is most of the fourth beast, which is described in Daniel 7:7 as having iron teeth.

Second: We’ve uncovered the first depiction of the episode of Elim ever found in ancient Jewish art. This story is from Exodus 15:27. Elim is where the Israelites camped after leaving Egypt and wandering in the wilderness without water. The mosaic is divided into three horizontal strips, or registers. We see clusters of dates being harvested by male agricultural workers wearing loincloths, who are sliding the dates down ropes held by other men. The middle register shows a row of wells alternating with date palms. On the left side of the panel, a man in a short tunic is carrying a water jar and entering the arched gate of a city flanked by crenellated towers. An inscription above the gate reads, “And they came to Elim.”

Q: A lot of previous discoveries give so much context for this period. What questions do this year’s findings prompt for you?

A: The Daniel panel is interesting because it points to eschatological, or end of day, expectations among this congregation. The Elim panel is interesting as it is generally considered a fairly minor episode in the Israelites’ desert wanderings ­­– which raises the question of why it was significant to this Jewish congregation in Lower Galilee.

Q: Can you describe the, “Wow- look at this!” moment of this year’s dig?

A: The “Wow!” moment came when we understood that the animals depicted in the mosaic in the north aisle are the four beasts in Daniel 7. And that was something we realized only a week after uncovering them, when one of our staff members was able to read the accompanying Aramaic inscription identifying the first beast.

Q: Each year, you and the team uncover pieces of history that are significant to so many people for a variety of reasons. What do you hope this work does for the field and what we know of history?

A: Our work sheds light on a period when our only written sources about Judaism are rabbinic literature from the Jewish sages of this period and references in early Christian literature. The full scope of rabbinic literature is huge and diverse, but it represents the viewpoint of the group of men who wrote it. That group was fairly elite, and we don’t have the writings of other groups of Jews from this period. Early Christian literature is generally hostile to Jews and Judaism. So, archaeology fills this gap by shedding light on aspects of Judaism between the fourth to sixth centuries CE – about which we would know nothing otherwise. Our discoveries indicate Judaism continued to be diverse and dynamic long after the destruction of the second Jerusalem temple in 70 CE.

Q: Now in the ninth season of digging at this site, what keeps you and the team coming back?

A: We are committed to completing the excavation of the synagogue before we turn the site over to the state of Israel, with the hope that they will develop and open it to the public in the future. In the meantime, I expect our work will continue to shed light on the past through new discoveries.

The mosaics have been removed from the site for conservation, and the excavated areas have been backfilled. Excavations are scheduled to continue in summer 2020. For additional information, images of previous discoveries and project updates, visit the Huqoq Excavation Project site here.

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Elim mosaic detail, Huqoq Excavation Project. Jim Haberman, Courtesy: UNC-Chapel Hill

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Article Source: Adapted from a UNC-Chapel Hill news release.

Shua Kisilevitz, assistant director of the Israel Antiquities Authority and Tel Aviv University, assists Magness in her work.

Sponsors of the project are UNC-Chapel Hill, Austin College, Baylor University, Brigham Young University and the University of Toronto. Students and staff from Carolina and the consortium schools participated in the dig. Financial support for the 2019 season was also provided by the Kenan Charitable Trust and the Carolina Center for Jewish Studies at UNC-Chapel Hill.

Neanderthals used resin ‘glue’ to craft their stone tools

UNIVERSITY OF COLORADO AT BOULDER—Archaeologists working in two Italian caves have discovered some of the earliest known examples of ancient humans using an adhesive on their stone tools—an important technological advance called “hafting.”

The new study, which included CU Boulder’s Paola Villa, shows that Neanderthals living in Europe from about 55 to 40 thousand years ago traveled away from their caves to collect resin from pine trees. They then used that sticky substance to glue stone tools to handles made out of wood or bone.

The findings add to a growing body of evidence that suggests that these cousins of Homo sapiens were more clever than some have made them out to be.

“We continue to find evidence that the Neanderthals were not inferior primitives but were quite capable of doing things that have traditionally only been attributed to modern humans,” said Villa, corresponding author of the new study and an adjoint curator at the CU Museum of Natural History.

That insight, she added, came from a chance discovery from Grotta del Fossellone and Grotta di Sant’Agostino, a pair of caves near the beaches of what is now Italy’s west coast.

Those caves were home to Neanderthals who lived in Europe during the Middle Paleolithic period, thousands of years before Homo sapiens set foot on the continent. Archaeologists have uncovered more than 1,000 stone tools from the two sites, including pieces of flint that measured not much more than an inch or two from end to end.

In a recent study of the tools, Villa and her colleagues noticed a strange residue on just a handful of the flints—bits of what appeared to be organic material.

“Sometimes that material is just inorganic sediment, and sometimes it’s the traces of the adhesive used to keep the tool in its socket” Villa said.

To find out, study lead author Ilaria Degano at the University of Pisa conducted a chemical analysis of 10 flints using a technique called gas chromatography/mass spectrometry. The tests showed that the stone tools had been coated with resin from local pine trees. In one case, that resin had also been mixed with beeswax.

Neanderthal wielding weapon made of hafted wood with stone point.

Villa explained that the Italian Neanderthals didn’t just resort to their bare hands to use stone tools. In at least some cases, they also attached those tools to handles to give them better purchase as they sharpened wooden spears or performed other tasks like butchering or scraping leather.

“You need stone tools to cut branches off of trees and make them into a point,” Villa said.

The find isn’t the oldest known example of hafting by Neanderthals in Europe—two flakes discovered in the Campitello Quarry in central Italy predate it. But it does suggest that this technique was more common than previously believed.

The existence of hafting also provides more evidence that Neanderthals, like their smaller human relatives, were able to build a fire whenever they wanted one, Villa said—something that scientists have long debated. She said that pine resin dries when exposed to air. As a result, Neanderthals needed to warm it over a small fire to make an effective glue.

“This is one of several proofs that strongly indicate that Neanderthals were capable of making fire whenever they needed it,” Villa said.

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Article Source: University of Colorado at Boulder news release

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Neanderthals made repeated use of the ancient settlement of ‘Ein Qashish, Israel

PLOS—The archaeological site of ‘Ein Qashish in northern Israel was a place of repeated Neanderthal occupation and use during the Middle Paleolithic, according to a study* released June 26, 2019 in the open-access journal PLOS ONE by Ravid Ekshtain of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and colleagues.

In the Levant region of the Middle East, the main source of information on Middle Paleolithic human occupation comes from cave sites. Compared to open air settlements, sheltered sites like caves were easily recognized and often visited, and therefore are more likely to record long periods of occupation. The open-air site of ‘Ein Qashish in northern Israel, however, is unusual in having been inhabited over an extended prehistoric time period. This site provides a unique opportunity to explore an open-air locality across a large landscape and over a long period ranging between 71,000 and 54,000 years ago.

In a joint collaboration with the Israel Antiquities Authority Ekshtain and colleagues identified human skeletal remains in ‘Ein Qashish as Neanderthal and observed more than 12,000 artifacts from four different depositional units in the same location on the landscape. These units represent different instances of occupation during changing environmental conditions.

From modification of artifacts and animal bones at the site, the authors infer that the occupants were knapping tools, provisioning resources, and consuming animals on-site.

Whereas many open-air settlements are thought to be short-lived and chosen for specialized tasks, ‘Ein Qashish appears to be the site of repeated occupations each of which hosted a range of general activities, indicating a stable and consistent settlement system. The authors suggest that within a complex settlement system, open-air sites may have been more important for prehistoric humans than previously thought.

Ekshtain adds: “Ein Qashish is a 70-60 thousand years open-air site, with a series of stratified human occupations in a dynamic flood plain environment. The site stands out in the extensive excavated area and some unique finds for an open-air context, from which we deduce the diversity of human activities on the landscape. In contrast to other known open-air sites, the locality was not used for task-specific activities but rather served time and again as a habitation location. The stratigraphy, dates and finds from the site allow a reconstruction of a robust settlement system of the late Neanderthals in northern Israel slightly before their disappearance from the regional record, raising questions about the reasons for their disappearance and about their interactions with contemporaneous modern humans.”

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The archaeological site of ‘Ein Qashish in northern Israel was a place of repeated Neanderthal occupation and use during the Middle Paleolithic, according to a study released June 26, 2019 in the open-access journal PLOS ONE by Ravid Ekshtain of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and colleagues. Ekshtain, 2019

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Article Source: PLOS One news release

*Ekshtain R, Malinsky-Buller A, Greenbaum N, Mitki N, Stahlschmidt MC, Shahack-Gross R, et al. (2019) Persistent Neanderthal occupation of the open-air site of ‘Ein Qashish, Israel. PLoS ONE 14(6): e0215668. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0215668

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Ancient DNA Analysis Adds Chapter to the Story of Neanderthal Migrations

Science Advances—After managing to obtain DNA from two 120,000-year-old European Neanderthals, researchers report that these specimens are more genetically similar to Neanderthals that lived in Europe 80,000 year later than they are to a Neanderthal of similar age found in Siberia. The findings, which reveal a stable, 80,000-year ancestry for European Neanderthals, also suggest that this group may have migrated east and replaced some Siberian Neanderthal populations. The work begins to unravel the early history of Neanderthals, which has otherwise been inaccessible since DNA predating 100,000 years ago was lacking. Bone samples and genetic evidence indicate that Neanderthals lived in Europe and Central Asia until about 40,000 years ago. Recent studies have shown that those last Neanderthals all belonged to a single group, descended from a common ancestor who lived 97,000 years ago. However, a Neanderthal dated to 90,000 years ago found in Denisova Cave in modern day Siberia appears to be more closely related to those late Neanderthals than to the so-called Altai Neanderthal found in the same cave, but dated to 120,000 years ago. This suggests that there had been an early Neanderthal migration into Siberia, followed by a later migration from Europe that replaced the earlier population. To clarify how this happened, Stéphane Peyrégne and colleagues obtained nuclear DNA samples from Western European Neanderthals who lived about 120,000 years ago — one from Scladina Cave in Belgium (called Scladina), and the other from Hohlenstein-Stadel Cave in Germany (HST). Using advanced techniques to account for microbial and present-day human DNA contamination, the study authors found that Scladina and HST were members of a population in Western Europe that gave rise to all currently identified Neanderthals except the Altai Neanderthal. This suggests that the population to which the Scladina and HST belonged lived in Western Europe contemporaneously with the Altai population in Siberia and later migrated east to replace them. Surprisingly, the researchers also found highly divergent mitochondrial DNA in HST, indicating an even more complex history that warrants further investigation.

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The Scladina Juvenile Neanderthal, mandible and fragmentary maxilla. J. Eloy, AWEM, © Archéologie andennaise

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Femur of the Hohlenstein-Stadel Neanderthal. O. Kuchar © Museum Ulm

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Fragmentary right maxilla of the Scladina juvenile. J. Eloy, AWEM, © Archéologie andennaise

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Hohlenstein-Stadel Cave. K. Wehrberger © Museum Ulm

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Scladina Cave. D. Bonjean, © Archéologie andennaise

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Article Source: A Science Advances news release. Science Advances is published by AAAS, the nonprofit science society.

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Ancient intervention could boost dwindling water reserves in coastal Peru

IMPERIAL COLLEGE LONDON—Nestled between the Pacific Ocean and the Andes mountains, Peru’s coastal region relies on surface water from the Andes for drinking water, industry, and animal and crop farming.

The region, which includes Peru’s capital city Lima, is often overwhelmed with rain in the wet season – but by the time the dry season comes, water is scarce.

These factors, together with Lima’s rapidly growing population, mean the city struggles to supply water to its 12 million residents during the dry months of May to October.

Now, Imperial researchers and their colleagues at the Regional Initiative for Hydrological Monitoring of Andean Ecosystems in South America, have outlined how reviving ancient water systems could help save wet season water for the dry season, where it is desperately needed.

To do so, they studied a water system in Huamantanga, Peru – one of the last of its kind.

Coastal Peru’s continuously stressed systems struggle to cope with increasing demand and are fragile – a landslide, for example, could easily cut off Lima’s water supply.

Senior author Dr Wouter Buytaert, of Imperial’s Department of Civil and Environmental Engineering, said: “The people of Lima live with one of the world’s most unstable water situations. There’s too much water in the wet seasons, and too little in the dry ones.

“The indigenous peoples of Peru knew how to get around this, so we’re looking to them for answers.”

Ancient Peruvian civilizations in 600 AD created systems within mountains to divert excess rainwater from source streams onto mountain slopes and through rocks.

The water would take some months to trickle through the system and resurface downstream – just in time for the dry season.

To study this, the researchers looked at one such system in Huamantanga. They used dye tracers and hydrological monitoring to study the system from the wet to dry seasons of 2014-2015 and 2015-2016. Social scientists involved also worked with Huamantanga’s local people to understand the practice and help map the landscape.

They found the water took between two weeks and eight months to re-emerge, with an average time of 45 days. From these time scales, they calculated that, if governments upscale the systems to cater to today’s population size, they could reroute and delay 35 per cent of wet season water, equivalent to 99 million cubic metres per year of water through Lima’s natural terrain.

This could increase the water available in the dry season by up to 33 per cent in the early months, and an average of 7.5 per cent for the remaining months. The method could essentially extend the wet season, providing more drinking water and longer crop-growing periods for local farmers.

The study, published in Nature Sustainability, is the first to examine the pre-Inca system in this much detail to find answers to modern problems. The authors say their research shows how indigenous systems could complement modern engineering solutions for water security in coastal Peru.

Lead author Dr Boris Ochoa-Tocachi, also from Imperial’s Department of Civil and Environmental Engineering, said: “With the advent of modern science, you’d be forgiven for wondering how ancient methods could apply to modern day problems. However, it turns out that we have lots to learn from our ancestors’ creative problem-solving skills.”

Dr Buytaert said: “Like many tropical cities, Lima’s population is growing fast – too fast for water reserves to keep up during dry seasons.

“Upscaling existing pre-Inca systems could help relieve Peru’s wet months of water and quench its dry ones.”

The seasonal variability typical of coastal Peru is worsened by human impacts – particularly by melting glaciers caused by global warming. Humans also contribute to soil erosion, which renders soil too weak to support dams big enough to hold all the water.

Climate change also makes wet seasons wetter, and dry seasons drier – making the need for effective water storage in Peru even more urgent.

In addition, the uncertainty of our climate’s future makes it difficult to design and build systems that are intended to last for decades into the future.

The authors say combining pre-Inca systems with classic structures, such as smaller dams, could spread the workload across methods and increase adaptability in an unpredictable climate.

Dr Buytaert explained: “Because we can’t rely fully on one method, we must be open-minded and creative – but our study shows we have lots to learn from the way Peru’s indigenous population intelligently managed their landscape 1,400 years ago.”

The researchers looked only at one system, so the results of similar work will likely differ throughout Peru’s coastal areas. However, they say their work presents a strong argument for using nature-based solutions to improve water security, which currently tops water agendas both locally and globally.

They continue to study the area to learn more about how indigenous knowledge, practices, and systems can help supply water to large urban populations in water-unstable, dry environments. In doing so, they hope to improve coastal Peru’s water security and resilience to a changing and unpredictable climate.

Dr Ochoa-Tocachi concluded: “This is a fascinating example of ingenuity within local communities and shows the enormous potential of indigenous knowledge to complement modern science.

“Beyond this fascinating example of ingenious problem-solving, our research shows the enormous potential for indigenous knowledge and rural science to complement modern science”.

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Conceptual representation of how the pre-Inca infiltration system works. Water is diverted during the wet season using canals that transport surplus water during the wet season to high permeability zones. Water penetrates the soil and emerges in downstream springs after weeks or even months, which provides water during the dry season. Ochoa-Tocachi et al., Nat. Sustain., 2019.

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Above and below: A diversion canal as part of the pre-Inca infiltration system during the dry season. Canals like this divert water during the wet season allowing infiltration in the permeable bottom. Water is stored in the soils and becomes available during the dry season. Musuq Briceño, CONDESAN, 2012.

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A water pond as part of the pre-Inca infiltration system during the dry season. Ponds like this store water when it emerges downstream after it was infiltrated in the highlands. Water in the pond is used by the local community for agriculture and livestock grazing, and is also infiltrated further in the soils. Sam Grainger, Imperial College London, 2015.

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Article Source: Imperial College London news release

If you are interested in reading about another ancient practice that can inform solutions to problems related to climate change, see The Milpa Way in the spring 2019 issue of Popular Archaeology.

Retracing ancient routes to Australia

FLINDERS UNIVERSITY—New insights into how people first arrived in Australia have been revealed by a group of experts brought together to investigate the continent’s deep history.

They used sophisticated modelling to determine not only the likely routes travelled by Aboriginal people tens of thousands of years ago, but also the sizes of groups required for the population to survive in harsh conditions.

The research, published today in two companion papers (one in Scientific Reports and the other in Nature Ecology and Evolution), confirms the theory that people arrived in several large and deliberate migrations by island-hopping to reach New Guinea more than 50,000 years ago.

While many Aboriginal cultures believe people have always been here, others have strong oral histories of ancestral beings arriving from the north.

“We know that Aboriginal people have lived here for more than 50,000 years. This research offers a greater understanding of how migration events took place and further evidence of the marine and navigation capabilities used to make these deliberate journeys,” said Professor Michael Bird, from the Australian Research Council Centre of Excellence for Australian Biodiversity and Heritage (CABAH) and James Cook University.

The team of multidisciplinary researchers from CABAH and the CSRIO set out to establish the most likely route travelled to reach the ancient mega-continent, known as Sahul (New Guinea, Australia and Tasmania joined at times of low sea level).

“We developed demographic models to determine which island-hopping route ancient people most likely took,” said CABAH’s Professor Corey Bradshaw, from Flinders University.

“A northern route connecting the islands of Mangoli, Buru, and Seram into West Papua New Guinea would probably have been easiest to navigate and survive. This route was easiest when compared to the southern route from Timor that leads to the now-drowned Sahul Shelf in the modern-day Kimberley region.”

The researchers also used complex mathematical modelling—considering factors including fertility, longevity, past climate conditions, and other ecological principles—to calculate the numbers of people required for the population as a whole to survive.

The simulations indicate that at least 1300 people arrived in either a single migration event or smaller, successive waves averaging at least 130 people every 70 years or so, over the course of about 700 years.

“This suggests planned and well-organised maritime migration, rather than accidental arrival” Professor Bradshaw added.

The studies confirm the ancestors of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people possessed sophisticated technology and knowledge to build watercraft. This research also showcases the remarkable ability at that time to plan, navigate, and make multiple complicated, open-ocean voyages to directly transport large numbers of people.

“Both studies are unique because they relied on past environmental information and did not use any genetic data. We are very excited to see how further archaeological and genetics studies in CABAH can contribute to this story,” says Dr Laura Weyrich, a CABAH investigator at the University of Adelaide.

The papers Early human settlement of Sahul was not an accident and Minimum founding populations for the first peopling of Sahul, were co-authored by scientists from around Australia, including Flinders University, James Cook University, University of Wollongong, University of New South Wales, University of Adelaide, Australian National University, and the CSIRO.

CABAH brings together expertise from diverse academic disciplines to answer fundamental questions about the natural and human history of our region, including how and when people first came to Australia.

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Arrival of First Australians infographic. Australian Research Council Centre of Excellence for Australian Biodiversity and Heritage (CABAH)

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Article Source: Flinders University news release

What the Celts drank

LUDWIG-MAXIMILIANS-UNIVERSITÄT MÜNCHEN—Research carried out by an international team led by scientists from Ludwig-Maximilians-Universitaet (LMU) in Munich and the University of Tübingen reveals aspects of the drinking and dietary habits of the Celts, who lived in Central Europe in the first millennium BCE.

The authors of the new study analyzed 99 ceramic drinking vessels, storage and transport jars recovered during excavations at Mont Lassois in Burgundy. This was the site of a fortified ‘princely’ settlement of the Early Celts. The finds included pottery and bronze vessels that had been imported from Greece around 500 BCE. “This was a period of rapid change, during which vessels made in Greece and Italy reached the region north of the Alps in large numbers for the first time. It has generally been assumed that this indicates that the Celts began to imitate the Mediterranean lifestyle, and that only the elite were in a position to drink Mediterranean wine during their banquets,” says LMU archaeologist Philipp Stockhammer, who led the project. “Our analyses confirm that they indeed consumed imported wines, but they also drank local beer from the Greek drinking bowls. In other words, the Celts did not simply adopt foreign traditions in their original form. Instead, they used the imported vessels and products in their own ways and for their own purposes. Moreover, the consumption of imported wine was apparently not confined to the upper echelons of society. Craftsmen too had access to wine, and the evidence suggests that they possibly used it for cooking, while the elites quaffed it in the course of their drinking parties. The study shows that intercultural contact is a dynamic process and demonstrates how easy it is for unfamiliar vessels to serve new functions and acquire new meanings.”

Chemical analysis of the food residues absorbed into the ancient pots now makes it possible to determine what people ate and drank thousands of years ago. The group of authors based at the University of Tübingen analyzed these chemical fingerprints in the material from Mont Lassois. “We identified characteristic components of olive oil and milk, imported wine and local alcoholic beverages, as well as traces of millet and beeswax,” says Maxime Rageot, who performed the chemical analyses in Tübingen. “These findings show that – in addition to wine – beers brewed from millet and barley were consumed on festive or ritual occasions.” His colleague Cynthianne Spiteri adds: “We are delighted to have definitively solved the old problem of whether or not the early Celts north of the Alps adopted Mediterranean drinking customs. – They did indeed, but they did so in a creative fashion!”

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Greek drinking cup from the Early Celtic princely burial mound Kleinaspergle. This vessel is similar to those whose pottery fragments were found in the Celtic settlement on the Mont Lassois. Württemberg State Museum, P. Frankenstein / H. Zwietasch.

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Selection of the Early Celtic vessels held in the archive of the Württemberg State Museum. Victor S. Brigola

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Article Source: LUDWIG-MAXIMILIANS-UNIVERSITÄT MÜNCHEN news release

The Hidden Celestial Sanctuary of the Hittites

Eberhard Zangger (born 1958 in Kamen, Germany) is a Swiss geoarchaeologist, corporate communications consultant and publicist. Eberhard Zangger studied geology and paleontology at the University of Kiel and obtained a PhD from Stanford University in 1988. After this he was a senior research associate in the Department of Earth Sciences at the University of Cambridge (1988–91). He is currently president of the board of trustees of the international non-profit foundation Luwian Studies.

In May 2016, Luwian Studies went public with a website in German, English and Turkish. As part of its research, the foundation has systematically catalogued extensive settlement sites of the Middle and Late Bronze Age in Western Asia Minor. These sites are presented in a public database on the website. The foundation provides financial support for archaeological excavations and surveys, as well as for linguistic studies dedicated to the cultures of the Middle and Late Bronze Age in western Asia Minor.

In central Anatolia, about 150 kilometers east of Ankara, lies a remarkable archaeological site. Over 3,000 years old, the rock sanctuary of Yazılıkaya is located a few hundred meters outside the city walls of the former Hittite capital Hattuša. Since 1986 it has ranked as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Even without this accolade it emits a unique aura. Tucked away in a group of limestone cliffs near the village of Boğazkale, the sanctuary remains virtually anonymous: its Turkish name means simply “inscribed rock.” When the French archaeologist Charles Texier visited this area for the first time in 1834, he initially saw and sketched only the ruins of the former capital. But soon the villagers also led him to the well-hidden Yazılıkaya.

A few decades before the fall of the Hittite kingdom (around 1190 BC), stonemasons of the Hittite Great King chiseled over ninety reliefs of people, animals and mythical figures into the rock massif’s two natural courtyards (Chambers A and B). The figures in Chamber A form a line of reliefs and appear much like a procession of Hittite deities. There is no doubt that these are gods, for many of them bear their name in Luwian hieroglyphic signs. Mythical creatures and chimeras are also present, including two particularly striking bull-men with their arms stretched high over their heads, carrying what looks like a bowl. Charles Texier’s drawings of these reliefs made a splash in central Europe, because no one would have expected such distinctive art in remote central Anatolia. It is different from anything known from Greece, Egypt, or Mesopotamia, even today.

Part of the sanctuary’s aura may stem from the fact that it was here that for several centuries, Hittite great kings came together with their families and senior echelons of society to celebrate special festivals. The hidden location of the chambers, their obvious importance in Hittite religion, and the pictorial representation of the most important gods of the time contribute to the fascination. Yazılıkaya can also be seen as a challenge to archaeology, because the actual function of the sanctuary has always remained enigmatic. Despite numerous attempts to explain this procession of the Hittite pantheon, the complex withstood all attempts at interpretation for nearly two centuries.

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Wall on the western inside of Chamber A with 12 identical gods (Reliefs 1–12) on the far left and Relief 34, the Sun god of the heavens, on the right. (© Luwian Studies)

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Hints Suggesting a Technical Function

The German prehistorian Jürgen Seeher, a former excavator of Hattuša, says that Yazılıkaya has kept its secret to this day. In his Hattuša Guide, and in a monograph on Yazılıkaya published in 2011, he mentions in passing that the particularly imposing relief of the Great King Tuthalija IV in Chamber A is brightly lit by the sun for only a few days around the summer solstice. This detail, and the flat walls of Chamber B (up to twelve meters high), prompted me to ask a compelling question. Did Yazılıkaya have a technical function? Although the vertical walls of Chamber B seem to be essentially of natural origin, as similar structures occur nearby, their flat surfaces were extended with ashlar masonry by the builders of the sanctuary. In addition, the two chambers were never roofed over, even though this would have been easy to do. This suggested that the course of the sun, the moon, the stars, or light-shadow-effects might well have played a role in the sanctuary’s function. Some of the relief figures also imply a reference to heaven: the Sun God of the Heavens is explicitly labeled with his name. He is proceeded by the winged moon god, who in turn follows Šauška, also depicted with wings, a deity attributed to the planet Venus. And before Šauška appears Ea, the Babylonian god of heaven. Allusions to the sky thus abound – and when I first visited the place in 2014, considering a technical function involving sky-gazing and calendar-keeping seemed quite conceivable.

Rita Gautschy, who works at the Archaeological Institute of the University of Basel, holds a doctor of science degree in both archaeology and astronomy. We agreed to join forces in search of Yazılıkaya’s possible astronomical function. Fortuitously, in 2015 the Handbook of Archaeoastronomy and Ethnoastronomy appeared, edited by the eminent British professor of archaeoastronomy Clive Ruggles, and comprising almost 2,300 pages in three volumes. It includes articles by the Spanish astrophysicists Juan Antonio Belmonte and A. César González-García dealing with an astral or solar orientation of the Hittite religion. These led us to more of their publications, in which they report how they measured the alignments of temples and gates in Hattuša. These were suggested to be astronomically oriented, with a high statistical probability. Belmonte and González-García also paid particular attention to the rock sanctuary at Yazılıkaya. They found that the northern wall of the gatehouse points at the sunset during the summer solstice. As early as 1990, Juan Antonio Belmonte proposed that the twelve uniform male deities in Chamber B might well correspond to the number of lunar months in a year. What is more, the American astronomer Edwin C. Krupp had also visited Yazılıkaya, and had recognized signs of celestial elements. In his opinion, the processions represented a “cosmic narrative”. These findings by renowned archaeoastronomers encouraged us to proceed.

Temple Walls Point toward the Solstices

Summer solstice sunset alignment of the northern wall of the monumental gatehouse. (© Luwian Studies)

Soon we realized that the north wall of the last building (IV) to be constructed at Yazılıkaya was aligned with the sunset at winter solstice. The oblique arrangement of the temple buildings, erected during at least three distinct construction phases, suddenly began to make sense. The earliest building was oriented to the summer solstice, the most recent to the winter solstice. Whether their functions were symbolic or technical was still unclear. Both solstice-oriented walls, however, had in their extensions a protruding piece of natural bedrock which was evidently left intentionally by the Hittite builders. In Building IV, this boulder even contained an artificial hemispherical depression of 28 centimeters in diameter. Archaeologists interpreted this as a basin for holy water.

In order to better understand the mindset that prevailed some 3000-4000 years ago, we began reading numerous scientific treatises on Hittite religion and Babylonian astronomy. We found that of the more than 33,000 documents and fragments found in Hattuša, at least 50 deal with astronomical or astrological subjects. Accordingly, the Hittites received their knowledge of celestial regularities almost entirely from Mesopotamia. The pamphlets produced by Hattuša’s first excavator, Hugo Winckler, were particularly helpful for me. Already in 1901, Winckler proffered a hypothesis that today’s world religions had a common source in ancient Babylonian astral religion. Winckler saw an astounding number of interrelationships, but did not proceed to apply them to Yazılıkaya.

Figures Symbolize the Days of the Lunar Month

Over a period of five years, we managed to gradually develop a new model for interpreting the site. During the Bronze Age, dates were determined in principle based on the phases of the moon. The lunar month consisted of either 29 or 30 days, and it began with the first appearance of the crescent moon after the new moon. Twelve lunar months added up to 354 days – and were thus 11¼ days short of a solar year. That is why as early as the 4th millennium BC, intercalary months were commonly used. Every third year or so comprised thirteen lunar months rather than twelve. Consequently, year by year the beginning of the seasons coincided more or less with the same date in the solar year.

If the twelve uniform male deities in Chamber A reflect lunar months, it would only be logical for the next thirty figures to represent the days within a lunar month. This group of thirty deities, for the most part male, is clearly separated from the actual climactic scene in Chamber A by the long staff of the Storm God of Hatti (Relief 41). We deduced that the days (and months) were counted from right to left, as in Luwian hieroglyphic writing the reading direction always runs counter to faces and hands. If the long staff of the Storm God of Hatti marked the beginning of the lunar month, the full moon would have always coincided with the two bull-men (Reliefs 28-29). The bowl they carry actually corresponds to the hieroglyphic sign for “heaven,” which in Mesopotamia was also called the “boat of light.” So the bull-men did not indicate a crescent moon as it may seem at first sight; instead they mark the full moon. They thus highlighted the only day of the month when lunar eclipses could occur. According to Babylonian beliefs, such eclipses, if they happened unexpectedly, could potentially be harmful for the king. The priests therefore had a duty to predict such events – and thus needed a calendar.

Female Deities Indicate Solar Years

We had thus found a plausible explanation for the deities on the western side of Chamber A. But we still had no clue as to the function of the climactic scene and the procession of female deities on the chamber’s eastern side. In an attempt to come to grips with this challenge, we drew all figures of Chamber A on a single sheet. Seventeen of the female deities are almost completely preserved. All that remains of one figure is the name, and yet another female deity was discovered in 1945 in a neighboring village called Yekbas, where it was used as a building block in masonry. It is now exhibited in the museum in Boğazkale. The procession of female deities thus apparently involved a total of nineteen figures. The stonemasons had left a column of natural stone to separate a subset of eight of the female figures. Eight and nineteen are the years needed to synchronize solar years and lunar months. Greek scholars later named these two cycles octaeteris and enneadecaeteris. After 19 solar years, or 235 lunar months, or 6,940 days, the sun and moon again reach almost the same constellation in the sky. The female deities thus symbolize years.

Yazılıkaya appears to be the place where the Hittite priests kept their calendar. They most likely indicated the current day, month, and year with moving markers in the form of stone or wood columns. Proceeding in this way they could determine the most important dates of the year: New Year, the solstices, the equinoxes, and monthly festivals. After all, with the Hittites never missing an opportunity to serve one of their countless deities, the priests had the challenge of setting the dates for as many as 165 festivals per year.

Festivities for the Summer Solstice

Such an interpretation makes it easier to imagine what a festival in Yazılıkaya, like the summer solstice, may have looked like. The king and his family, accompanied by priests, would have gathered in the temple court in the late afternoon. The gatehouse would have provided, above all, an entrance for the sun goddess of Arinna to the complex. Shortly before sunset, the rays of the sun would have penetrated the gatehouse and illuminated a precisely placed (probably gold-plated) statue of the Goddess herself, thereby producing an epiphany for those attending the festival. Deeply moved by this unforgettable experience, the congregation would have stepped into Chamber A, where they would have seen the now magnificently illuminated effigy of the Great King, for the rest of the year in shadow. The sacred power of the sun goddess had thus been transferred to her earthly representative, thereby reinforcing his might.

By no means will this new interpretation put an end to the search for an explanation of Yazılıkaya. It may more likely be a first step in a new direction. Many questions remain: what exactly do the five deities of the climactic group represent? What was the function of Chamber B – and what do the deities in it depict? What was the purpose of the impressive Yerkapı structure in the uppermost part of the Upper City of Hattuša? Could there have been other, perhaps smaller and less elaborate, facilities elsewhere with a similar function to that of Yazılıkaya? After more than a hundred years of systematic exploration of Hittite culture, in many ways we still seem to be at the very beginning.

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Chamber 1 in the upper city of Ḫattuša was built to catch the light of the Sun as it sets during the winter solstice. (photo taken on 21st December, 2018 – © Luwian Studies).

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The southwestern corner of the pyramidal base of Yerkapı points towards sunset at the winter solstice. (photo taken on 21st December, 2018 – © Luwian Studies).

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3D-visualization of Building II and III (gatehouse) at Yazılıkaya showing how the object on the pedestal in the courtyard may have been illuminated during a religious service on the day of the summer solstice. 
(© Oliver Bruderer / Luwian Studies)

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Reference:

Eberhard Zangger, Rita Gautschy: “Celestial Aspects of Hittite Religion: An Investigation of the Rock Sanctuary Yazılıkaya”, Journal of Skyscape Archaeology 5.1 (2019) 1–33

Contact:

Eberhard Zangger
Luwian Studies
P.O. Box 166
8024 Zurich, Switzerland

Tel. +41 44 250 74 94
e.zangger@luwianstudies.org
www.luwianstudies.org

New study shows how environmental disruptions affected ancient societies

LOUISIANA STATE UNIVERSITY—LSU College of the Coast & Environment Distinguished Professor Emeritus John Day has collaborated with archeologists on a new analysis of societal development. They report that over the past 10,000 years, humanity has experienced a number of foundational transitions, or “bottlenecks.” During these periods of transition, the advance or decline of societies was related to energy availability in the form of a benign climate and other factors.

“Studying the factors that led to the advancement and contraction of past societies provides insight into how our globalized society might become more or less sustainable,” Day said.

Day’s collaborators include Joel Gunn of the University of North Carolina at Greensboro, William Folan of the Universidad Autonoma de Campeche in Mexico and Matthew Moerschbaecher of the Louisiana Oil Spill Coordinators Office. Gunn and Folan are Mayan archeologists and Moerschbaecher is a graduate of LSU’s oceanography program.

With the human population having exceeded the capacity of Earth’s resources, this analysis suggests that a transition toward sustainability for the current energy-dense, globalized industrial society will be very difficult if not impossible without dramatic changes.

The authors say that these past transitions were caused by a combination of social, astronomical and biogeophysical events such as volcanic eruptions, changes in solar emissions, sea-level rise and ice volume, biogeochemical and ecological changes, and major social and technological innovations. One example is the worldwide crisis that began in 536 AD, which was caused by three major volcanic eruptions within a decade. This event led to the destruction of half the population of Europe via the Black Death plague, starvation and wars. In China and the Mayan region, it led to crop failures, famine and plagues.

They found that when energy was abundant, societies expanded and prospered. Conversely, when energy sources declined, there was societal contraction and collapse. The previous example implies that changes are more likely to transpire due to planetary-scale disturbances and constraints, whether societal or environmental, and will likely lead to strong societal disruptions.

However, in the past, major changes sometimes moved toward a more sustainable social organization. For example, after one disruption, the ancient Maya switched to a more efficient use of energy and marine transportation and, at the time of European contact, they were leading a sustainable lifestyle.

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Volcanic eruptions impacted ancient civilizations beyond the general destruction that occurred. Wikimedia Commons

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Source: Louisiana State University news release

If you liked this article, you may like The Milpa Way, an article about how the ancient Maya achieved a sustainable living.

Dark centers of chromosomes reveal ancient DNA

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA – DAVIS—Geneticists exploring the dark heart of the human genome have discovered big chunks of Neanderthal and other ancient DNA. The results open new ways to study both how chromosomes behave during cell division and how they have changed during human evolution.

Centromeres sit in the middle of chromosomes, the pinched-in “waist” in the image of a chromosome from a biology textbook. The centromere anchors the fibers that pull chromosomes apart when cells divide, which means they are really important for understanding what happens when cell division goes wrong, leading to cancer or genetic defects.

But the DNA of centromeres contains lots of repeating sequences, and scientists have been unable to properly map this region.

“It’s the heart of darkness of the genome, we warn students not to go there,” said Charles Langley, professor of evolution and ecology at UC Davis. Langley is senior author on a paper describing the work published June 18 in the journal eLife.

Langley and colleagues Sasha Langley and Gary Karpen at the Lawrence Berkeley Laboratory and Karen Miga at UC Santa Cruz reasoned that there could be haplotypes—groups of genes that are inherited together in human evolution — that stretch over vast portions of our genomes, and even across the centromere.

That’s because the centromere does not participate in the “crossover” process that occurs when cells divide to form sperm or eggs. During crossover, paired chromosomes line up next to each other and their limbs cross, sometimes cutting and splicing DNA between them so that genes can be shuffled. But crossovers drop to zero near centromeres. Without that shuffling in every generation, centromeres might preserve very ancient stretches of DNA intact.

The researchers looked for inherited single nucleotide polymorphisms — inherited changes in a single letter of DNA—that would allow them to map haplotypes in the centromere.

They first showed that they could identify centromeric haplotypes, or “cenhaps,” in Drosophila fruit flies.

That finding has two implications, Langley said. Firstly, if researchers can distinguish chromosomes from each other by their centromeres, they can start to carry out functional tests to see if these differences have an impact on which piece of DNA is inherited. For example, during egg formation, four chromatids are formed from two chromosomes, but only one makes it into the egg. So scientists want to know: Are certain centromere haplotypes transmitted more often? And are some haplotypes more likely to be involved in errors?

Secondly, researchers can use centromeres to look at ancestry and evolutionary descent.

Turning to human DNA, the researchers looked at centromere sequences from the 1000 Genomes Project, a public catalog of human variation. They discovered haplotypes spanning the centromeres in all the human chromosomes.

Haplotypes from half a million years ago

In the X chromosome in these genome sequences, they found several major centromeric haplotypes representing lineages stretching back a half a million years. In the genome as a whole, most of the diversity is seen among African genomes consistent with the more recent spread of humans out of the African continent. One of the oldest centromere haplotype lineages was not carried by those early emigrants.

In chromosome 11, they found highly diverged haplotypes of Neanderthal DNA in non-African genomes. These haplotypes diverged between 700,000 to a million years ago, around the time the ancestors of Neanderthals split from other human ancestors. The centromere of chromosome 12 also contains an even more ancient, archaic haplotype that appears to be derived from an unknown relative.

This Neanderthal DNA on chromosome 11 could be influencing differences in our sense of smell to this day. The cells that respond to taste and smell carry odorant receptors triggered by specific chemical signatures. Humans have about 400 different genes for odorant receptors. Thirty-four of these genes reside within the chromosome 11 centromere haplotype. The Neanderthal centromeric haplotypes and a second ancient haplotype account for about half of the variation in these odorant receptor proteins.

It’s known from work by others that genetic variation in odorant receptors can influence sense of taste and smell, but the functional effects of the variation found in this study are yet to be discovered and their impact on taste and smell analyzed.

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The central area of chromosomes, the centromere, contains DNA that has survived largely unchanged for hundreds of thousands of years, researchers at UC Davis and the Lawrence Berkeley Laboratory have found. Some of this DNA comes from Neanderthals or other relatives or ancestors of humans from before modern humans migrated out of Africa. Charles and Sasha Langley

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Source: University of California, Davis news release