Field Archaeology

An Introduction

Peter Drewett

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2011
• Print ISBN: 9780415551182
• eBook ISBN: 9781136825378
• Edition: 2
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Archaeology
• Index: Social Sciences

Since its first publication, Field Archaeology: An Introduction has proved to be a key handbook for all those undertaking introductory courses in archaeology or volunteering on their first excavation. In this revised second edition, key developments in technology, theory and changes in the law are included, bringing it up to date with the most recent fieldwork practices. The dig is the face of archaeology most immediately recognised by the general public, and is often what attracts both students and amateurs to the discipline. Yet there is much more to working in the field than digging alone. Peter Drewett's comprehensive survey explores the process, from the core work of discovery and excavation to the final product, the published archaeological report. The main topics are:

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• How an archaeological site is formed

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• Finding and recording archaeological sites

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• Planning excavations, digging the site and recording the results

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• Post-fieldwork planning, processing and finds analysis

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• Interpreting the evidence

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• Publishing the report

Illustrated with 100 photographs and line drawings, and using numerous case studies, this second edition of Field Archaeology ensures it will remain the essential introductory guide for archaeology students and the growing number of enthusiasts for the subject.

CHAPTER ONE

Introduction

What is archaeology?

What is archaeology?

It is unlikely that you will ever come across two archaeologists who will agree exactly what archaeology is. Some do not even see it as a subject in its own right. Obviously the word ‘archaeology’ – or ‘archeology’ if you prefer – has a dictionary meaning, but even here agreement is not universal. The Shorter Oxford Dictionary (6th edition, 2002), for example, states that archaeology is ‘the systematic study of human antiquities, esp. as revealed by excavation’: a good traditional view of the subject! The Chambers Dictionary (11th edition, 2008), however, sees archaeology as ‘the study of ancient people through their material remains, usually as discovered by excavation’. To non-archaeologists, archaeology involves three crucial elements: ‘the past’, ‘material remains’ and ‘excavation’. To many archaeologists, however, the meaning of the word and the discipline is more flexible and is shifting. When exactly is ‘the past’? It is not now, but it certainly was when you read the last sentence.

Most archaeologists agree that archaeology must have a material element – for example, ‘Archaeology: a sub-discipline of anthropology involving the study of the human past through its material remains’ (Renfrew and Bahn 2008) or ‘Archaeology: use of human remains to solve the problems of another discipline, such as anthropology or art history’ (Rouse 1992). It is the study of human material remains that makes archaeology different from anthropology, which, among other things, can study intact human material culture, not just its remains. Archaeology is different from history in that it requires the remains to be studied, not just written descriptions of those remains. Not all remains have, however, been lost or buried and require excavation to reveal them. The Great Wall of China (Figure 1.1) and the Parthenon in Athens are remains, but neither has ever been ‘lost’ or required much in the way of excavation to reveal it. Clearly, the study of material remains can be used in other disciplines: anthropology, art history or history – but archaeological methodology, theory and aims make it essentially different from these other disciplines. The fact that economists use the techniques of mathematicians in no ways makes mathematics a sub-discipline of economics. Equally, the fact that archaeology provides data for anthropology or history in no way makes it a sub-discipline of these subjects. Archaeology is its own subject with its own theory, methodology and aims.

Archaeologists are therefore dealing with the remains of past peoples, societies and cultures. Remains have a tendency to be lost, buried and forgotten, so archaeology has developed a range of methods to recover partial remains. It has borrowed and adapted techniques, methods and theories from other disciplines, but has made them very much its own. In addition it has developed its own methods of studying palimpsests in the landscape and its own unique methods of excavation. Archaeological excavation has its own theoretical basis, often passed by word of mouth from excavator to excavator rather than formally set down in textbooks. In addition, archaeology has adopted, adapted and evolved its own theoretical basis for the interpretation of the past through the study of material remains.

Figure 1.1 The Great Wall of China: an archaeological site never ‘lost’ (Photo: A. Drewett)

If we consider archaeology to be the study of the past through the study of material remains, clearly it becomes an enormous subject with time-depth back to the dawn of human existence and up to just before now. Geographically, it covers the whole of the world’s surface, the surface of the moon and all those scraps of failed hardware lost in space. Archaeology, however, is not just rubbish collection. Not all material remains left by humans have the same value to archaeologists. To collect merely rubbish is not only a waste of the resources available to archaeologists but also gets archaeology a bad name with the wider public, who generally, although they often do not know it, are footing the bill. Archaeologists who systematically record the position of a Coke bottle or of tin foil from a cigarette wrapper and then carefully bag and curate it as part of the archaeology of the site just make themselves (and other archaeologists) look silly. The presence of such artefacts may be significant in indicating modern disturbance, but nothing more. Note it and return it to a new archaeological context, your site backfill.

Even within the archaeological context of a period like the neolithic in Europe or the archaic in North America, not all material remains have the same value to archaeologists. A few broken shells on a coastal site may have less significance than the same shells hundreds of miles inland. On a medieval site the bulk of the material remains may be shattered roof tiles which, although important, will not provide as much information as the much smaller assemblages of pottery or metalwork. Not all remains of human activity are of equal importance in the interpretation of the past. It is the job of the archaeologist to select what he or she considers to be important and then concentrate effort on that material.

Archaeologists therefore locate rubbish in the landscape, carefully select and record that rubbish and then, through analysis of that rubbish and the application of a variety of theoretical perspectives, produce a story about the past. Archaeologists cannot ‘reconstruct’ the past; the past is gone for ever. What they can do is create a series of stories or interpretations about what the past may have been like. They do this by collecting as many ‘facts’ about the past as they can. A pot is a fact. We can say how it was made, what it was made of, perhaps where it was made and, from residues, what it contained. We can perhaps say at what date it was made. From then on it can be woven into a story of what life was like in, say, the neolithic period.

To produce a story about what the past may have been like, archaeologists must put their material remains into the context of natural remains also surviving in the landscape. Were the people you are studying living in a forest, on grassland, by a river or by a former shoreline? This environmental context can be studied through the associated discipline of environmental archaeology. Through the study of naturally occurring – although perhaps humanly modified – remains, like pollen, shells or soils, an environmental story can also be built up. Both the human story and the environmental story have ‘facts’, theories and interpretations. This book will concentrate on the recovery of ‘facts’, but these have no value unless they form part of evolving theories and interpretations about the past.

What is field archaeology?

Field archaeology is, not surprisingly, what archaeologists do in the field. However, it also has a considerable pre-field element and an even more considerable post-field element. Sometimes the term ‘field archaeology’ is used to refer only to techniques, other than excavation, used by archaeologists in the field. ‘Field archaeology’ used in this way refers essentially to the battery of non-destructive field techniques used to locate areas of archaeological interest (sites). Excavation is, however, just one of the techniques available to field archaeologists and so is part of field archaeology. Excavation remains, however, both the most detailed and the most destructive, and yet potentially the most informative, technique available to the field archaeologist.

Field archaeology starts with the location of archaeological sites. Immediately this begs the question of what is an archaeological ‘site’. Most archaeologists see sites as places where there are clusters of artefacts, often – but depending on what period they are dealing with – associated with humanly made structures or features like dug pits. There may also be some human modification of the natural environment in or around the ‘site’. How small, however, does a cluster of artefacts have to be to constitute a site? Is a single projectile point found in a woodland environment a site? Clearly it constitutes the material remains of a specific human activity, presumably hunting, taking place at a specific place in the landscape. It clearly is a ‘site’, but equally clearly it is not going to provide the archaeologists with as much information as, say, a tell site in the Near East. In many ways one could see the whole surface of the earth as an archaeological ‘site’ with varying concentrations of humanly produced remains. Even areas with no remains are part of the human story of the region. Why was there no human activity in a particular area? A field archaeologist therefore has to look at data of different levels in the field. An ‘empty’ area or a single projectile point provides some, but minimal, data. Sites with high concentrations of artefacts and features and a modified environment potentially provide masses of raw data about the past. These are the ones on which field archaeologists are likely to concentrate.

So what are the elements of field archaeology which make some archaeologists consider themselves to be field archaeologists while others are not? Clearly, it is perfectly possible to be an archaeologist studying material remains from the past without ever stepping into the field. Many people are surprised that out of the 50 or so lecturers/professors of the Institute of Archaeology at University College London (the largest university department in Britain), only about 20 could be safely let out to direct an excavation. This says nothing about their competence as archaeologists, just that they do not engage in field archaeology.

A key element of field archaeology is to decide ‘why?’ There is little point in simply going into the field to do field archaeology without having any questions to answer. At its simplest, the question may be ‘is there any archaeology there?’ Clearly, if an area of the earth’s surface is to be removed by, say, an industrial development, such a question would be the first to be asked. If there is no archaeology there it becomes somewhat difficult to ask any further questions, except perhaps, ‘why not?’ This question – ‘is there any archaeology there?’ – forms the basis of many site or landscape evaluation projects undertaken within the area of salvage or rescue archaeology. Such a question may, however, be equally valid when considering a research project. Clearly, if no archaeology is present, no further questions can be asked.

The project must then be designed. This involves the creation of a research design. The actual content of each research design is naturally going to be very different; there are, however, certain elements that should be common to all. The first element is a general introduction to the project. This will locate the project area, tying it into the national grid and preferably locating it on a map incorporated into the research design. The introduction should include information about site ownership and any legal restrictions in place on the site: in Britain it should ask, is the site protected as a Scheduled Ancient Monument under the 1979 Ancient Monuments and Archaeological Areas Act? It is usually useful to have had preliminary discussions with the landowner and statutory authorities before you prepare your research design. If you are simply not going to be allowed access to the land, then there is little point in proceeding in the preparation of a research design.

The second element of the research design should consider all previous archaeological work that has taken place in the area or on the site. Excavation, even of the highest standard, will destroy some archaeological information while recovering other. By a site being dug, the in situ evidence is destroyed, even if it is recorded on paper. Excavation is an unrepeatable experiment. Even surface archaeology like artefact collection from the plough zone diminishes the archaeological resource. Therefore, if there has already been sufficient archaeology done in the area to answer all or some of your questions, is it responsible to proceed with your destructive project? Naturally, when considering previous work in the area, its quality will have to be assessed. Was the project well executed and published? Even if it was an excellent project for its time, are there now techniques available which were not available at that time? Was the site dug before environmental samples were collected or before carbonized material could be radio-carbon dated? On the basis of all this previous work it may be possible for the third element of the research design to outline the sequence of occupation on the site or in the region. This will form the starting point for your project.

The fourth, and perhaps most important, element of the research design should outline the aims and objectives of the project. This element will be different in every case and may involve both broad and specific questions. You will, however, be designing your project on the basis of very imperfect knowledge, and if the project involves excavation you will have only one attempt, as the process of excavation destroys the site even as it reveals it.

However careful your design, the fieldwork will inevitably throw up expected information and new questions. This is where archaeology differs from most other associated disciplines, like history or anthropology. A historian, when searching for evidence of the wool trade in fifteenth-century Europe, say, can reasonably ignore a reference he or she finds to the seventeenth-century wool trade or fifteenth-century pottery trade. An archaeologist working in the field cannot do this. If the evidence is found on or in the ground, then removed, but not recorded, it is gone for ever. Historians can return to the documents later; the archaeologist cannot return to the dug site and find data in situ to re-read it. Aims and objectives must therefore be flexible enough to allow redesign as the project progresses. The fieldwork may throw up new questions you had not even thought to ask. Field archaeology requires flexibility. An over-rigid research design leads at best to disaster, at worst to archaeological irresponsibility. Unfortunately some funding bodies, and especially in the realm of ‘contract’ archaeology in Britain and the USA, often require very rigid research designs. These designs are more often related to tight financial controls than to good archaeology.

Once you have decided what your aims and objectives are, the fifth element of a research design for a field archaeology project should cover methods. How are you going to achieve your aims and objectives? What techniques are you going to apply to the site or area? Are the techniques available and will they work in your area? The techniques available may simply not work. If techniques are not available to answer the questions you want to ask, you have three possibilities. You can either develop new techniques, ask new questions, or forget the field project.

The time spent on the field element of a field archaeology project may, of course, be only a fraction of the time spent on the whole project. The bulk of the time spent on the project will be on post-fieldwork analysis and publication. The sixth element of the research design should therefore consider the post-fieldwork or post-excavation and publication programme. Here you immediately run into a problem. As you have not yet undertaken the field survey or dug the site, you do not yet know what will be found, and thus what needs what analysis, or how such information should be appropriately published. With experience, however, it is usually possible to predict a surprisingly accurate picture of what may be found. On a palaeolithic site you will find lithics, but no pottery. On a dry, acid site organics will not survive unless they are carbonized. Organics will survive if the site is waterlogged or desiccated. Within certain parameters you can estimate the broad range of material and structures that could be expected. Your research design for the post-field element of the project must, however, remain flexible enough to incorporate the unexpected: the unique neolithic deposits with pottery found dug into your palaeolithic site, for example.

The publication element of the field archaeology research design is in many ways there purely to remind you of your commitment, and to remind your funding agencies of the potential cost of publication. Publication in some form, on the printed page, in electronic journals or on CD-ROM, must be seen as the final element of any field project. The data you recover in the field cannot be regarded as yours. You briefly hold it in trust for all humanity. If you do not make it available to other archaeologists and the public at large, you have, in effect, destroyed that information. The only truly bad archaeologist is one who does not publish the results of his or her field investigations. All else is opinion. By publication, of course, I mean making publicly known, rather than necessarily words printed on the pages of a book, like this one. A properly curated archive in a public museum may constitute publication. The obsessive secrecy some archaeologists have for ‘their own’ data is not only unprofessional: it is also immoral.

The final element of a research design for any field archaeology project should consider requirements of staff, time and money. This is a requirement of the real world. It is not, however, straightforward. If you were building a bridge you could accurately determine quantities of materials and how long it should take how many people to put the various elements together. In excavation you can define only broad parameters. A dry site may suddenly reveal a perched water table containing preserved organic artefacts. The cost of the excavation may then double overnight. Your staffing, budget and timetable should therefore be kept as flexible as your funding agencies will allow. Even then a contingency amount should be built in.

Who does field archaeology?

Field archaeologists can be broadly divided into three groups: those involved in ‘pure’ archaeological research; those undertaking field archaeology as part of cultural resource management; and those essentially doing it for fun, that is as a leisure-time pursuit or hobby. All three groups can and do make a major contribution to archaeology. Although one group often makes disparaging remarks about another, all three groups contain good, bad and indifferent field archaeologists. All three groups profess an interest in archaeological knowledge, and therefore are clearly differentiated from treasure hunters, whose main interest is in the objects themselves – often, but not always, coupled with the monetary value of the objects. An essential interest in the context of an object makes the field archaeologist different. The treasure hunter may, however, be interested in the context if it enhances the value of the object. They are not usually interested in passing on the knowledge gained to the wider public.

The group of field archaeologists involved in ‘pure’ field archaeology is the smallest, and they usually engage in field archaeology as part of a much wider project. They may be university lecturers or professors, or sometimes museum curators. Their projects may be funded by the state, mainly through the British Academy in Britain, or the National Science Foundation in the USA. Funds are limited and fiercely fought for. Some universities and museums have their own limited funds available for field archaeology. This group should, in theory, have the knowledge, backup, time and resources to design and execute field projects to answer specific research questions. The reality is often very different, with limited resources, insufficient time and diminishing backup. These fi...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• List of figures
• Preface to the First Edition
• Preface to the Second Edition
• Acknowledgements
• Abbreviations
• 1. Introduction
• 2. What is an archaeological site? How is it formed and transformed?
• 3. Finding archaeological sites
• 4. Recording archaeological sites
• 5. Planning the excavation
• 6. Digging the site
• 7. Recording archaeological excavations
• 8. Post-fieldwork planning, processing and finds analysis
• 9. Interpreting the evidence
• 10. Publishing the report
• References
• Index