Books and Bricks

Ruth Downie likes Flue tiles!

2008-03-02T16:59:00.005Z

Ruth Downie's first novel (Medicus and the Disappearing Dancing Girls) was well received and her next novel about the Roman detective (Ruso and the Demented Doctor) is due out very soon. Check out her website/blog here. She lives in Milton Keynes, my old stamping ground, and not a stone's throw from the aforementioned Stewartby Brickworks.
But why does she merit a mention on this blog in particular? On two accounts. She's and author and she also likes flue tiles as confessed here. Books and bricks! She also mentions she digs at Whitehall Villa every year, so I checked out the Whitehall Villa Web pages and found they've done further work into flue tiles. In fact, they've had a go at making them. The only comment I will make is that I've seen some flue tiles with marks on the inside that hint that the former was in two pieces, and each half was pulled out from either end, which would make them much easier to remove.Their end product looks great and makes me want to have a go :-)

Looks like they've only got combed flue tile so far. I thought they were within the range of roller stamped flue tile - perhaps they've got that to come!

Roller Stamped Flue tile

We don't get them up here in York (mutter, moan) I guess I was just spoiled on the first site I ever recorded tile - Beddington Roman Villa, Surrey.

RIP Stewartby Brickworks, but ...

2008-03-01T20:17:00.002Z

(Image from http://www.bedsonsunday.com/bedsonsunday-news/displayarticle.asp?id=238068, by Tony Margiocchi)

I was brought up in Bletchley, Bucks, with the brickworks setting off my asthma on a regular basis, presumably when the fumes from the kilns floated to the west of the town. It could be said that bricks are in my blood stream! Those local brickworks were closed by the 1990s, but the nearby Bedfordshire brickworks survived, albeit losing many of its chimneys. However, I was sad to read that Stewartby has now closed, because it does not reach UK environmental regulations. Fair enough, but they were the last of the industry in Bedfordshire. However, there's a glimmer of hope - the chimneys and kilns have been listed by English Heritage, so there will be a monument to the industry. I feel an outing to Beds coming on :-)

Ian Jack writing in The Guardian, Saturday March 1st drew my attention to this story. In the article, he has some acute observations about brick:

Unlike, say, cotton spinning or wool weaving, brickmaking has attracted very little cultural attention. So far as I can tell, nobody has done for the brickfields what Arnold Bennett did for potmaking in Staffordshire or the British documentary movement did for cotton and coal. The last coal mine in South Wales closes and you have a story: a procession, memories, tears. At Stewartby on Thursday they had a private night out at the Red Lion in Elstow. Perhaps bricks are too ordinary, too ubiquitous. They've change little since they were made in the Indus valley 5,000 years ago. Perhaps also their factories have tended to be too far south to fit the traditions of industrial romanticism. Yet the story of brickmaking in Bedfordshire prefigures modern Britain in its early use of foreign labour and the growth of multicultural communities.

Brick is common, and that's what I like about it. It aint pretty, but provides shelter and because of that, it's important.

Excavations at Sprotbrough, South Yorkshire

2008-02-12T16:55:00.001Z

2007 was a good year for my ceramic building materials publications to appear, and this one can be found in the Yorkshire Archaeological Journal for 2007, Volume 79. The CBM report is co-authored with Cecil Spall, and can be found on pages 293-297. Of main interest was nib tiles, which seem to be a very typical product of South Yorkshire.

Congratulations to Chris Fenton-Thomas in getting the whole excavation report in print so quickly. The full reference for the whole article is:

Fenton-Thomas, C et al 2007 'Excavations at Sprotbrough , South Yorkshire,' Yorkshire Archaeological Journal, Vol 79, 231-310

Elginhaugh: A Flavian Fort and its Annexe

2008-02-12T16:44:00.000Z

Britannia Monograph No. 23, W.S. Hanson with K. Speller, P.A. Yeoman and J. Terry

Elginhaugh: A Flavian Fort and its Annexe

Elginhaugh is the most completely excavated timber-built auxiliary fort in the Roman Empire. This report provides an assessment of all the structures, with particular emphasis on the identification of stable-barracks and the implications for the identification of garrisons based on fort plans, while extensive examination of the annexe makes a substantial contribution to the debate about the function of these attached enclosures. Because the occupation is so closely dated (A.D. 79–87), the site provides a very precise dating horizon for the wide range of artefactual material reported on. Of particular importance is the evidence for the local manufacture of coarseware and mortaria, including the identification of a new mortarium potter. An extensive programme of environmental analysis provides insight into issues of local environment and food supply. Finally, there is unique evidence that the site continued to function as a collection centre for animals after the garrison had departed.

November 2007, 2 vols. (c. 672 pages including 164 line-drawings and 58 plates). Paperback. ISBN 978 0 907764 34 2. £43/US$86 till 31 March 2008, thereafter £58/US$116

Its a Book, but it's also to do with bricks, as there is a brick and tile report. It's on pages 486-492 and was the first Brick and Tile report I ever wrote!

Middle English Dictionary

2007-01-31T10:47:00.000Z

The Middle English Dictionary is online, and is of use for looking up Middle English names for tiles. For example:

til(le, tiel(e, tigel, tighel, ti3l, tieghel, teil(le, tel(e, teghle, teghel(e, te3ele, thil & (in names) tichel, tiwel, thiel, thigel; pl. tiles, etc. & tiellen & tile, til(le, tiel, tigel, tighl, til, tel(e & (error) teys.

[OE []tiegle, tighel; for -e- forms cp. MDu. tegel, tegele; ult. L te macrongula. For the surname form tiwel cp. AF tiwel, tiuuele, vars. of OF tiule.]

1.
(a) A brick; a masonry tile; -- also coll.; brenned ~; (b) in related cpds., combs., & phrases: ~ of flaundres, flaundres (flaundrish) ~, bricks or tile made in Flanders; ~ ston, q.v.; ~ wallere, a bricklayer; brike ~, bricks; herth ~, tile for making a fireplace; pendaunt ~, ?a tile used for the arch of a fireplace; sconchoun ~, chamfered tile; wal ~, a tile for a wall; -- also coll. [see also wal n.(1)]; (c) a fragment of a brick or tile; -- also coll.; ~ scarthe (sherd).

2.
(a) A roofing tile; a stone slate used as a roofing tile; -- also coll.; crestes of ~, tiled rooftops; (b) in related cpds. & combs.: ~ pin, a wooden pin used to attach a roofing tile to a lath; -- also coll.; ~ pinninge, the attaching of tiles to the lath of a roof with nails or pins; ~ prig, coll. nails used to attach roofing tiles; ~ thacchere, one who lays roofing tile; coin (corner) ~, ?a hip tile; ?a tile for an archway; goter ~, a tile for a gutter; hipe ~ [see hipe n. 2.(b)]; hole (holwe) ~, a concave roofing tile; plaine ~, ?a flat roofing tile; ?an undecorated roofing tile; rigge ~ [see also rigge n. 7.(c)]; rof ~ [see rof n. 6.(a)]; thache ~ [see thach(e n. (c)].

3.
(a) A paving tile; a painted paving tile; -- also coll.; (b) in related cpds. & combs.: ~ paving, paving tiles; holand ~; pavement ~, tiles used in paving; pavinge ~ [see also paving(e ger. (c)]; pen ~, tile manufactured at Penn and Tyler's Green in Buckinghamshire [the quotation under penne-til n. should be moved to pen n.]; wal ~, ?decorated wall tiles used for flooring.

4.
In misc. cpds. related to senses 1., 2., & 3.: ~ formere (makere), one who makes or shapes bricks or tiles; ~ hous, q.v.; ~ kilne (oste), a kiln for firing bricks or tiles; ~ kilnere; ~ makinge, the process of making bricks or tiles; ~ poudre, powder made from crushed bricks or tiles and used in mortar; ~ werk, bricklaying or paving; square ~, a square tile used for roofing or paving.

5.
A heated tile used to heat or melt something [in most cases it is impossible to determine if the reference is to a flat tile or to a brick]; also, a tile used to cover an earthenware pot; ~ ston, q.v.

6.
?The hardened material out of which bricks and tiles are made, burnt clay; also in prov. expressions; brenned ~ [occas. difficult to distinguish from sense 1.(a)].

7.
In phrase: tiles of ston, mistransl. of L macheras petrinas stone swords: ?error through misreading of machera as ML maceria; ?error for ME stile n.(2).

8.
In surnames and place names [see Smith PNElem.2.179].

Cleaning the floor tiles at Barley Hall: 5

2007-01-08T16:29:00.000Z

The last day of tile cleaning. And there was one patch to do in front of the dias and leading up to the doorway. Since we should have finished yesterday, no other volunteers were due in, and I worked on my own. It would have been difficult to get two people easily in to the available space anyway. We would have been wondering which bits had been done or backing into each other's cleaned area at some point.

The photo (right) shows a section of the floor, with the risers of the dias at the back. The two (authentic re-productions of the medieval items) bowls contain de-ionised water - one with the specialised detergent, and one without. The orange item is the trusty Barley Hall Ruler - removing chewing and candlewax, for the use of. The tiles to the left hand side have been cleaned, but not buffed. On the right handside, the tiles are still dirty

Not surprisingly, there was a lot more wear on this section than on others as it is the only way into and out of the hall. Other patches of wear were under the top table, where people rested their feet. Also tiles were worn in other areas, particularly if they had a convex surface to begin with. With the brown tiles, it was difficult to gauge the degree of wear. However, it was sometimes noticeable that were was 'drag' particularly when using the non-stick scourers. Previously, when near the window, close to the settles, or near the cupboard, this proved to be a sign there was more candle wax to come off. But on the open area, it was actually where the glaze had been worn down to the body of the tile. With the brown tiles, of course, there is just one layer before hitting the body. With the yellow tiles, there are two layers - the glaze and the slip (which is what makes the tile surface seem yellow). However, some of the yellow tiles showed a little glaze wear, but not down to the slip. The most obviously worn yellow tile occurred just to the left of the surface in front of the dias.

There was no tile wear behind the settles, though the accumulation of dust and chewing gum still made it hard going. Hopefully, after our experiences with the stuff, chewing gum will be banned from the hall. The other problem was candle wax, but that is something that is a natural part of the hall's display, so we'll have to put up with that. It was noticeable that some tiles had chipped edges, particularly where the edges were higher than the mortar.

Total amount of material used:
4 pairs medium gloves (Superdrug; 2 for 1 deal)
2 pairs small gloves (Superdrug; 2 for 1 deal)
3 pairs large gloves (Poundland)
10 200g packs cotton wool (Poundland)
5 non-stick scourers (Woolworths)
11 litres de-ionised water (9 litres from Halfords, 2 litres from Barnitts; Barnitts was cheapest at the time, though I subsequently saw de-ionised water for 51p per litre in Tescos; much cheaper than either of those shops)

Also: 1 box soap flakes (Barnitts)- only used experimentally on a small patch. Seemed to work OK.
And: Several Barley Hall rulers were extremely useful in removing chewing gum and candle wax

Cleaning hours clocked up today: 4.15

Overall total so far: 39.45 hours

So let's call it 40 hours or so to individually hand-clean all the tiles in Barley Hall!

Cleaning the floor tiles at Barley Hall: 4

2007-01-07T17:55:00.000Z

I feel I know the Barley Hall tile floor intimately now - all too intimately. There were four of us today: Trish, Sally, Peter and myself. We were doing the more central parts of the floor, having to shift settles, tables and benches to get to the tiles. For some stretches we had to wait (briefly) whilst the tiles dried before shifting the furniture. But we achieved the target for the day. Only one section remains and it's the tiles immediately in front of the dias. The photo on the right shows the cleaned tiles of the dias on the right, and the still grubby tiles on the left. The photo shows how much brighter the dias tiles are now. I shall be in on my own tomorrow to finish off the remaining grubby section.

And then after that, it's a case of seeing if there's anything I can do to clean up the tile hearth. It's a different animal from the glazed floor tiles, as the materials used there are actually 15th century. It was originally from Rawcliffe Manor, a site dug some years ago. The most amazing thing is its completeness. There were original tile hearths at Barley Hall, but they were too smashed up and robbed to use. It just so happened that Rawcliffe produced a comparatively pristine hearth of about the same size. Rather than break it up (the site was due to be developed and the archaeology destroyed), it was lifted and transferred to the Hall. I can clean the hearth at my leisure, perhaps on a day when the Museum is closed (currently Monday and Tuesday). The main thing is that I complete the tiled floor tomorrow ...

Cleaning hours clocked up today: 13 hours (total of person hours)

Overall total so far: 35.30 hours

Cleaning the floor tiles at Barley Hall: 3

2007-01-06T16:56:00.000Z

Another day on the tiles! At various points in the day, there were six people, plus myself working on the floor: Kim, Alex, Maria and her husband, Sally and Peter. This time we were concentrating on cleaning the tiles behind the settles, and those on the dias. The settles effectively created two corridors to clean down. I was on one of them, and Kim and Peter were on the other at different times. A puzzling feature was chewing gum. Normally these 'corridors' are covered by the settles, which have been pulled out for cleaning purposes. However, there was a fair amount of dirt behind them, but how on earth did the chewing gum get there? Not surpringly, there is talk of ensuring that school parties have disposed of their chewing gum before they enter the Hall ...

The dias had its own particular problems. Namely the table could not be moved, as it's too heavy. So the valiant tile-cleaners (Alex, Sally, Maria and her husband) had to work with their heads under the table. We are using halogen lights anyway, but those working on the dias particularly needed them. They were also in peril of banging their heads.

Tomorrow, one of the settle 'corridors' just needs buffing up, and then the settle can be moved back. This will reveal some more tiles to be cleaned in the centre of the floor, and again there will be the table problem for part of it. The other settle 'corridor' needs finishing, drying and then that part buffing, and we can then get to the next section. The floor in front of the dias will need to be done, but not before the tiles in front of the settles have been done, other wise we will be walking over the person cleaning it, and probably still damp tiles. Still outstanding is the tile hearth, which is not glazed, but certainly needs a clean. I think it's a toothbrush or nailbrush job.

We've cleaned perhaps a half to two thirds of the Hall floor so far.

Cleaning hours clocked up today: 13.30 hours (total of person hours).

Overall total so far: 22.30

Cleaning the floor tiles at Barley Hall: 2

2007-01-05T16:37:00.000Z

Having gathered together various materials, including gloves, de-ionised water, cotton wool, and non-stick scourers, the first day of cleaning began. There were two other people cleaning the floor with me, Sara and Linda.

The cleaning method is as follows:

· Take a small amount of cotton wool, and dampen it in the bowl of de-ionised water only (do not use the bowl with the non-ionic detergent at this point)
· Use the wet cotton wool to clean the surface of the tile
· If there are is any stubborn dirt (eg. chewing gum) just wet it at this stage
· Concentrate on the tile itself and try to avoid the mortar at the edges
· Do not put the used cotton wool back into either of the water bowls
· Discard dirty cotton wool
· Take another clean cotton wool ball and dip it in the bowl with the non-ionic detergent in
· Clean the tile surface again
· Check how dirty the cotton wool is getting and use another if need be
· Use the non-stick scourer if required
· Use the edge of a plastic ruler to prise off any stubborn dirt
· Take another cotton wool ball and dip in the non-detergent water and clean the face of the tile to remove any more dirt and the detergent itself
· Allow the tile to dry
· Take another cotton wool ball, dry this time, and gently buff the surface of the tile

We started at the 'window' end of the Hall. This window is in the snicket - which was originally the screens passage of the Hall, but at some point in its history it became a public right of way. So one end of the Hall is a clear window, and people walking by can look in. Normally, they see the Hall laid out with tables, settles, benches, and pottery. But at present all that is piled up. Instead they could watch three people carefully hand cleaning the Hall's tiles. One old lady banged on the window and said: 'Put some Cillit-Bang on it!' I agreed, but carried on regardless.

The main hazard in this section of the floor is candle wax from the large candlesticks often placed at the end of the Hall. There is also some chewing gum, and that is spread all round the the floor. And of course there is a large amount of dirt. Sara was surprised to find a green tile, up against the window, which constrasted with the other yellow and brown tiles. Why it was in the floor is uncertain. Perhaps they ran out of tiles? But there are plenty of spares to be had. So that's a bit of a mystery.

Cleaning hours clocked up today: 9 hours (total of person hours)

Cleaning the floor tiles at Barley Hall: 1

2007-01-04T16:56:00.000Z

The reproduction floor tile at Barley Hall in York is a glorious centre-piece to the restored medieval house. However it's in need of a clean, and I volunteered to find out how to do this. The tiles were handmade by John Hudson, and have been walked by the visitors to the Hall for at least 15 years. The floor has been cleaned occasionally, but sparingly using modern cleaning materials. It now needs a deep clean, along with the rest of the Hall.

I consulted the Tiles and Architectural Ceramics website, and found their fact sheets 1 and 2 of some use, though they are primarily aimed at cleaning Victorian or later tiles. Green 'Scotchbrite' scourers were recommended to clean the surfaces, but I think it might not be applicable here - we'll be using the white 'non-stick' scourers, and even then, sparingly. It also turned out that some of the materials recommended were very difficult to get hold of. Biotex (a non-ionic cleaner, which won't interfere with the glazed surfaces of the tiles) no longer seems to be available. And distilled water is only available from laboratory suppliers. However de-ionised water was to be found on the shelves of hardwear stores, Halfords and supermarkets. In the end, I consulted the a conservation laboratory who were very helpful. De-ionised water should be OK to use. They also recommended that I could try soap flakes as a cleaning agent, so I'll be trying that out tomorrow. We also have a small amount of specialised non-ionic detergent to use.

Yesterday, I spent my time getting the equipment and materials required together. And today, I did a patch test to find out how the cleaning process would work. I've just typed out the instructions for the volunteer tile cleaners. Tomorrow, the real work will begin ...

Roman London redrawn after burial find

2006-12-01T16:37:00.000Z

Not only that, but a tile kiln has also been found. The site is at St Martin-in-the-Fields in Trafalgar Square, and also has a late Roman burial (4th-5th century) and 7th century Anglo-Saxon burials too. The full report, from The Times of 1st December can be found here.

Here are the tile-related sentences:

' ... Other finds include a Roman tile kiln, dating from AD400-450, indicating that a significant Roman building existed near the site ...'

' ... No other tile kilns have been found in Central London, and the kiln is the latest-dated structure from Roman London to have been found thus far ...'

Hopefully, we'll hear much more about this in the future.

Mouse imprint on a Roman Brick in Germany

2006-11-20T13:36:00.000Z

I picked this up from British Brick Society's Information 102, page 8, T P Smith, 2006.

Here is a translation of the German text into English using AltaVista's Babelfish (http://babelfish.altavista.com/):

During opening a Roman ziegelbrennofens with Neupotz was the casting of an antique mouse in a brick. Since February 2001 the LOD Speyer accomplishes Jockrim and the local municipality Neupotz excavations on the gemarkung Neupotz, which became necessary by the classification of a development area in co-operation with the convention community. To day came among other things Roman piece of road, one cellar, three Getreidedarren as well as a complete manufacturing plant for bricks with furnace and workshop. All plants date after the first impression into the second and third after-Christian century.

On the hole threshing floor of the altogether surprisingly well received ziegelbrennofens a Tegulafragment with the highly detailed body casting of a mouse was in the destruction debris (see upper photo). The animal probably killed, when over still yield, to drying which are laid out brick plates ran. The casting is so clear that the rodent could be determined zoologically. See for this the following contribution of the Diplombiologin Martina Dumke.

Determination of the animal casting found at the excavation place The Habitus of the found animal is the one mammal. One finds mouse-well-behaved animals in the order of the insectivores (Insectivora) under the pointed mice and in the order of the rodents (Rodentia) under the genuine mice. The following regulation characteristics can be used on the basis the casting:
* Head fuselage length (KR): Distance between lip point and tail root (70mm)
* Swan length (Schw): Distance between the tail root and the tail point (without final hair) (76mm)
* hind foot length (HF): Distance between Hinterrand of the heel and the front edge of the longest toe (without claw) (19mm)

Further characteristics:
* Apodemus mystacinus rock mouse
* 4 toes at the front feet, 5 toes at the hind feet
* Sohlenschwielen at the hind feet
* split oberlippe
* probably not yet reproductionable male

The Insectivora can be excluded, since these exhibit in each case 5 toes at the rear and front feet. Thus the find animal is to be assigned to the order Rodentia and here the genuine mice. For the determination of the kinds apart from the characteristics specified above also the ear length and the skin condition are needed, by expulsion procedures arrive one however at the kind Apodemus - forest mice. Unfortunately each large regulation and thus the establishment on a kind are pure speculation, since it probably concerns an animal not attained full growth yet and cannot the koerpermasse thus obligatorily be used. Besides important regulation characteristics, like the tooth condition, are missing the skin colouring and the number of tail rings. Unfortunately one cannot orient oneself also at the momentary circulation area, since also mouse populations had to bend themselves in the past millenium in its spreading the strong pressure of humans as well as the climate. The following kinds of the kind Apodemus occur in Europe: *Apodemus mystacinus rock mouse
*Apodemus flavicollis yellow neck mouse (favored by the author)
*Apodemus sylvaticus common forest mouse Apodemus microps dwarf forest mouse
*Apodemus agrarius fire mouse

Hopefully, it gives an idea of the original text! Smith's text in Information says it's a Field Mouse (Apodemus mystacinus). To see the pages, with a couple of photos, go to:

http://www.archaeologie-speyer.de
THEN: On the left hand bar click on the link to 'Archaologie in der Pfalz.' Then on the right hand panel scroll down to 'Heir kommt die Maus!' Then click on the link highlighted: 'Mehr über dieses Thema erfahren Sie hier'

Roman Portable Ovens

2006-10-29T17:02:00.000Z

I've just been reading the latest Research News: Newsletter of the English Heritage Research Department Number 4, Summer 2006, pages 23-24. In it there was an interesting snippet about rare Roman Portable Ovens (Clibani). In particular, there was a photo of the fragments from the Chester Amphitheatre excavations, and the comment that the fragments were collected as ceramic building materials. So it's a possible thing that may be found in cbm samples, along with all that amphora ...

On searching on the web, I found that a similar photo of the Chester fragments is included in the Chester Amphitheatre Newletter issue 9, 12.08.06 It will download as a PDF and you will need Adobe Acrobat to read it. See pages 6-7 in the pdf. There's a helpful description of the sherds.

Failing that, get hold of a copy of the Research News, details as above. They are free; I can't remember exactly where from, but try emailing: fort.cumberland@english-heritage.org.uk in the first instance. Most of the edition is given over to Chester's Amphitheatre Project, which is quite interesting in itself.

If you want to see a picture of a near-complete oven, there's a drawing of one in: W F Grimes, 1930. 'Holt, Denbighshire: The Works-Dept of the Twentieth Legion at Castle Lyons' Y Cymmrodor Vol XLI, 1930, page 212. Or you can see one in use in this online impression. It's on the right of the drawing, and an adult is putting something into it, or taking something out. The drawing was created from a clibanus found on the excavations at Prestatyn, Wales, which was a Roman baths and civilian settlement. The full reference to the drawing is: Blockley M, 1986. 'The Prestatyn excavation: education, presentation and video' IN Cracknell S & Corbishley M (eds), 1986. Presenting archaeology to young people, CBA Research Report 64, 17-23

Adventures in archaeological research: 1

2006-10-17T15:15:00.000Z

I've just started the second, more intensive research phase for my Early medieval ceramic building materials in Yorkshire article.

First up, is establishing the presence of curved and flanged tiles in Scarborough. This has entailed checking out the origination of this oft-quoted occurence. It seems to come from J N Hare's Battle Abbey publication (1985). Anthony D F Streeten's refreshingly substantial Ceramic Building Materials report (p79-102) discusses the presence of curved and flanged tiles at the Abbey. He then cites the Scarborough curved and flanged tiles, and the references is: P and N Famer, pers. comm. The tiles were found from the early phase of Scarborough ware (pottery) production, where they were found amongst wasters.

The next step was to find out if this material was ever published. Cue a visit to the British and Irish Archaeological Bibliography.

There were three references:

An introduction to Scarborough Ware and a reassessment of knight jugs
1979, Peter G Farmer: privately published by author

Symposium on Scarborough Ware
1982, P G Farmer, N C Farmer & et al: Medieval Ceram, 6, 1982, 66-119

Excavations at the deserted medieval village of Osgodby near Scarborough, 1956-65
1968, Peter G Farmer: Trans Scarborough Dist Archaeol Soc, 2(11), 1968, 29-61

Unfortunately, none of them are after the date of the pers comm from the Battle Abbey report. However, I will still check them out. To do that, I have to find out if the local libraries have got them.

I checked the University of York - they have Medieval Ceramics. They also have a puzzling reference to the Trans Scarborough Dist Archaeol Soc at the Borthwick, but I suspect they don't have the complete run. However the Scarborough and District Archaeological Society have a website, and if I need to, I will go directly to them. Indeed they have several more recent Scarborough archaeological publications, but I've already checked those (they are in my CBM library) and the legendary curved and flanged tiles are not mentioned there.

Next with trepidation onto the the privately published 'An introduction to Scarborough Ware ...' But it's not a problem. The York Minster Library has a copy. Phew.

Another avenue of enquiry would be to talk to P. and N. Farmer. Unfortunately, Peter Farmer had died, as his obituary was reported in Medieval Ceramics in 2001. I haven't yet made much headway in finding out the whereabouts of N. Farmer. Indeed, on the personal contact front, there may be several other people to talk to, as they are currently involved in the archaeology of Scarborough, so it is likely I will try them first.

The perils of a freelance archaeologist

2006-10-13T16:39:00.000Z

I never wanted to be freelance. It's not good for me personally, and it's not good for the brick and tile. Being outside archaeological organisations means that both you and, more crucially, your material can easily be ignored. This is a real problem if you do brick and tile, where there is barely 'a market.'

A circular argument is used: why get the material reported on thoroughly if not much can be got from it? But of course, the more intensively it is studied, the more it will yield tangible results. A no-brainer, one would think, but frequently, I have to point this out, or heavily imply it. Unfortunately, diplomacy is not my forte; I'm just interested in doing the brick and tile properly, not in networking and furthering my career per se. The results of intensive study won't be the same as its close, much-studied cousin, pottery, but more information will be found out about brick and tile, which was a major ceramic industry from the Roman period onward.

As a freelance, apart from having to find work, accommodate brick and tile in one's home, and do battle with the Inland Revenue when they can't believe how little one is earning, one of the major problems is fellow archaeologists. It is all to do with respect (or lack thereof), and also a careless attitude to those who have to live on a financial precipice. Recently I had to do battle with an archaeological organisation that did not want to pay me an average rate for doing a day's work. Actually, I'll be putting in perhaps around 1.5 days, but I thought I'd be generous and not charge the whole whack (silly me) All sorts of excuses were thrown my way - particularly along the lines of we wanted to use the funds for a more worthy cause. Frankly, they tried to make me feel guilty at charging this average rate for this work. I offered to stand down; it was the only thing I could do, as I was not going to take a lesser rate, knowing that the work entails much preparation as well as intensive execution. It went a little higher within the organisation and fortunately my rate was approved. But the whole episode has left a very bad taste (and just when I was starting to think it couldn't get any worse ...)

I presume I am being viewed as a gold digger, because I insisted on charging a very average rate. Hello!? Would I be in British archaeology if I was in it for the money? The idea's laughable. What I earn from archaeology doesn't really cover the costs of research, travel, associated expenses, etc, concerned purely to do with studying brick and tile. Trying to argue 'the more worthy' clause doesn't wash with me - as far as I'm concerned the continuing and evolving study of brick and tile is as worthy a cause as anything else in archaeology. Unfortunately some (most?) of my colleagues don't seem to agree with me.

Tiles in odd places: Shires West, Leicester

2006-10-09T13:00:00.000Z

In November/December 2006's British Archaeology (Number 91, pages 20-21) Tony Gnanaratnam reports on the excavations in Leicester from April-December 2005 - Revealing a lost community. It was a large site which focussed on St Peter's medival church and cemetery. No doubt, at some point the article will gravitate to British Archaeology's web archive, sans photos. In the meantime, of interest to tile fans is the presence of two floor tiles in one of the graves:

... The coffin contained two floor tiles, one with the mid 14th century arms of the Dukes of Lancaster (the earldom of Leicester eventually passed to Lancaster)

There is also a photo of the grave, and it shows that one of the tiles was tucked behind the head of the skeleton. Published in the article, I also found it on the dig's website, so have included it here.

Early medieval ceramic roof tile in Yorkshire

2006-09-18T15:04:00.000Z

Having got the funding to get proper drawings made of the curved and flanged tile thanks to a grant from the Yorkshire Architectural and York Archaeological Society, I can go ahead with my early medieval roof tile article. Curved and flanged roofing tile is currently dated to 12th-early 13th century and are superceded by plain roof tile (eg. peg or nib) from the late 12th century onward.

Curved and flanged tile functioned in the same way as the Roman imbrex and tegula. The following examples are from MAP Archaeological Consultancy's Spurriergate, York, site.

This is a flanged tile, with a nail/peg hole. Only half of one, but a complete one can be seen at the Museum of London catalogue site here:
Here is a curved tile that would have gone along with the flanged tile above. As ever, it's not quite complete. Note it also has a nail/peg hole:
Although I have seen some partially glazed examples in York, it does not appear to be particularly common in the city.

Here is how the tiles would be fitted together. Unlike Roman tiles, these tiles don't tend have upper and lower cutaways to lock into the next tiles on the roof. However, sometimes the flanges tiles as a whole taper toward the bottom, or the flange itself is slightly tapered at the end:

National Lottery flying bricks advert

2006-09-16T21:43:00.000Z

As previously mentioned on this blog, there was a National Lottery advert featuring bricks flying through the air to a nice sunny location. This ad can now be viewed on line here. I may even go so far as downloading a copy :-)

Brick and Tile Recording Day 2006

2006-09-05T13:33:00.000Z

Brick and Tile Recording Day

Wednesday 15th November 2006

10.00 to 4.30pm

Yorkshire Museum, Museum Gardens, York

Draft Programme

10.00am Tea/Coffee/Biscuits and Registration
10.15 Introductions
10.20 Why record Ceramic Building Materials? Phil Mills (Freelance CBM specialist)
10.45 A brief guide to Ceramic Building Material types Sandra Garside-Neville (CBM Researcher)
11.15 Tour of Ceramics Store Andrew Morrison (Curator of Access for Archaeology, Yorkshire Museum)
12.15 Lunch (There are a number of cafes and pubs in the area, or please bring your own food as it is not
provided)
1.30 Hands-on brick and tile recording
3.00 Tea break
3.15 Hands-on brick and tile recording
4.30 Finish

Places are limited to 10 participants only and cost £45 for the day.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you're interested in attending, drop me a line at sgn1@fsmail.net

The Roman Stamped Tiles of Vindonissa (1st Century A.D., Northern Switzerland)

2006-08-09T16:53:00.000Z

Another book available from Archaeopress is: BAR S1449 2005: The Roman Stamped Tiles of Vindonissa (1st Century A.D., Northern Switzerland) Provenance and technology of the production ? an archaeometric study by Folco Giacomini. ISBN 1841718858. £25.00. 84 pages; illustrated throughout with figures, maps, plans, tables and illustrations. Abstracts in French and German. This work presents an archaeometric study on the Vindonissa stamped tiles. Vindonissa (Canton of Aargau, Switzerland) was an important Roman camp during the 1st century AD. With Vindonissa stamped tiles, archaeologists refer to all tiles stamped with the name of the military units that were stationed at Vindonissa from 47 to 101 AD. These tiles are among the most common archaeological findings in the Vindonissa legionary camp, but commonly occur in different Roman sites of Switzerland. The principal aim of this study was the petrographic and chemical characterisation of the Vindonissa tiles to determine the production site (or sites) for these ceramics and to obtain information concerning the technological aspects of the tile production and the distribution of these stamped tiles in Switzerland in Roman times.

Tegulae: manufacture,typology and use in Roman Britain

2006-08-07T22:38:00.000Z

Peter Warry kindly notified the ACBMG list of his new publication:

... my book on tegulae (Tegulae: manufacture,
typology and use in Roman Britain. BAR417) has now been published.
It broadly follows my PhD thesis. The structure and a few of the
conclusions are set out below. I would be delighted if anybody
wishes to offer any data or arguments that either support or
contradict my conclusions.
Peter Warry

Chapter 1 – Introduction

Chapter 2 - Manufacture: showing that tegulae were made with wet
clay in a four-sided mould and shaped with a wire (the clay was too
wet/adhesive to be rolled). In the later third century some
manufacturers converted to an inverted box mould and some imbrex
manufacturers also changed from upright to inverted formers around
the same time.

Chapter 3 – Typology: the form of the lower cutaway changed over
time and a sequence of four distinct cutaway groups (found
throughout the province) are proved. Using this cutaway sequence,
tegula size reduces steadily through time with the flange dimensions
and cutaway lengths also reducing in proportion. At the end of the
sequence some regions develop their own unique forms.

Chapter 4 – Dating: the cutaway groups fall into date ranges (A= up
to 120, B=100-180, C=160-260, D=240 onwards, regional forms 300
onwards). Substantially more data are required to verify these date
ranges, in particular the Group C forms could have a much more
extensive overlap with the Group B cutaway forms. The Legio XX
tiles stamped "VERO III COS" are more likely to be 126 rather 167.
The tiles with the Britannica cognomen from Carpow are more likely
to be 180 than 210.

Chapter 5 – Stamps: Legionary stamps had an average life of twenty
years. Many of them were in use contemporaneously which suggests
that each cohort had its own stamp. Military practice, when they
stamped tiles at all, was to stamp all of their production not just
a proportion; unstamped tiles are likely to be produced by
contractors. All of Legio XX output (including that with stamps)
may have been produced by contractors from c125 onwards whereas
Legio II did not use contractors for roof tiles until the third
century.

Chapter 6 – Roof Construction: Early roof design used large tegulae
of graduated sizes that were laid upon a bed of mortar and daub
without fixing nails; this design was superseded by tegulae all of
similar size that were laid directly onto common rafters with the
lowest row being secured with nails. In the mid-third century the
pitch of roofs may have increased and every other tegula was secured
by a nail or in some cases with a wooden dowel. A third century
roof would have used roughly 40% more tegulae than a first century
one (due to the reduction in size of the tegulae) but the
improvement in tegula design meant that the roof would have weighed
some 14% less.

Chapter 7 – Vaulted roofs: over 20% of tegulae are longitudinally
convex such that they would form an arch shape when placed on a flat
surface. These were not wasters but deliberate manufacture for use
on vaulted roofs where they were secured with mortar rather than
nails. Examples of this approach occur in Rome and there is more
circumstantial evidence from Britain.

Chapter 8 – Economics: a typical civilian tile works would have
employed just five people gathering wood and preparing clay in the
winter and making tiles in the summer. Military tile works were
considerably larger: the Classis Britannica tile works employed
between 30 and 80 men depending upon whether they worked all year
round or just during the summer months. Based on the labour cost,
tegulae would have cost just over 5 denarii each.

Chapter 9 – Conclusions

Peter Warry's book is available from: Archaeopress: BAR 417 2006: TEGULAE Manufacture, typology and use in Roman Britain by Peter Warry. ISBN 1841719560. £34.00. 167 pages; 126 figures, maps, plans and drawings; 114 plates. 5 data Appendices.

Brickmakers in Australia's first settlement

2006-06-09T22:02:00.000Z

When the First Fleet reached Sydney Cove in 1788, it carried with it a consignment of brick and wooden brick moulds. For further information check out this website. There is also a pdf leaflet here, which includes lots of details and pix about the early and more recent brick industry in Australia.

Flock of migrating bricks

2006-05-03T14:43:00.000Z

Bricks fans can currently be royally entertained by an advert for the National Lottery. It shows a flock of bricks flying over hill and dale, through snow and town, to find a sunny plot to build on. Very amusing indeed for those of a brick persuasion. Not quite worked out the significance of it all yet though (apparently it's something to do with getting people to think about the possibilities of winning), but there's a press release about the advert here (pdf format). As for me, I'm wondering if my chances of getting a lottery grant have gone up, what with the National Lottery now setting such great store by bricks :-)

Fashion, Architecture, Taste (FAT)

2006-04-17T13:43:00.000Z

FAT is a partnership of architects, and I've just seen some photos of their buildings in The Guardian. In particular, there is a new development at Islington Square in East Manchester, and they use brick in a very pleasing manner.

Photo Len Grant, from The Guardian, 17/04/06

From the individual Dutch gables, to the patterned brickwork, it's a delight.

George Shipway article by Alan Fisk

2006-03-24T09:21:00.000Z

The Cavalryman Rides Again: the historical novels of George Shipway

by

Alan Fisk

First published in Solander, Vol 7 No 1, May 2003, pages 4-6. Many thanks to Alan Fisk for allowing me to include it in my blog. Thanks to Jim Poulton for the illustrations.

In October 2002, Imperial Governor, a novel about the Boudiccan revolt against the Romans in 61 A.D., was republished after being out of print for many years. (A review of Imperial Governor appeared in The Historical Novels Review, Issue 22, December 2002.)

For its author, George Shipway, becoming a historical novelist was a third career, which he started late, and which lasted for only a few years. In that relatively short time, though, he established himself as a noted and sometimes controversial writer.

He died in 1982, but his wife still lives in the cottage in Berkshire that they first moved into in 1949. She has given Solander invaluable help with this article.

George Shipway was born in 1908 in Allahabad, India, where his father was a publisher. In accordance with the custom of that time, George was sent to England at the age of eight to go to boarding school at Clifton.

After leaving school, he became a cadet at Sandhurst, the Army’s academy for future officers. Sandhurst trained cadets for both the British Army, and the Indian Army, which was the one for which George Shipway was destined. He used to claim in later life that the only reason he had joined the Army was so that he could play polo, which he would not have been able to afford to do as a civilian!

After Sandhurst, he was commissioned in 1928 into the 13th. Duke of Connaught’s Lancers, a cavalry regiment. He returned to India, where he married while he was posted at Jullundur.

In the ensuing years, the Shipways moved “all over India”, as Mrs. Shipway recalls. George Shipway’s service included two years away from his regiment with a force of irregulars on the frontier between Baluchistan and Iran, as well as being a staff officer in Delhi and in central India, but history was about to bring his Indian Army career to an end. At Partition, the Indian Army was divided, and the 13th. Lancers was one of the regiments assigned to Pakistan.

The Shipways came “home”. George Shipway had obtained a transfer to the British Army, to the 3rd. Carabiniers, the Prince of Wales’s Dragoon Guards, a Scottish regiment. In the end, he decided not to go through with it. His explanation was that he had never been north of Yorkshire and didn’t intend to make such a dramatic change in his life, but really he seems to have had no wish to pursue an Army career anywhere but in India. He retired in 1947 with the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel.

At this point, the Shipways happened to run into a friend whom they had known in India. She was married to another former Indian Army officer, and she and her husband were now running Cheam School in Berkshire, a school for boys aged from 8 to 14. They suggested to George Shipway that he should become a teacher at the school, which he did.

His second career, as a schoolmaster, lasted 19 years. His pupils included Prince Charles, who spent some time at Cheam. The boys liked and respected him.

Looking at George Shipway’s photograph on his 1970s book jackets, one can judge that only a very foolish, or a very brave, boy would have misbehaved in Mr. Shipway’s class. The photograph shows a man who clearly knows his way about the world, with a genial expression, but who carries the bearing of one who expects to be obeyed when he gives an order.

While he was a schoolmaster, he tried his hand at writing in his spare time, encouraged by his friend John Masters, who had also been an Indian Army officer before becoming an author. George Shipway eventually began work on what would become Imperial Governor.

Mrs. Shipway describes him as a man who lived much within himself. He combined the qualities of the soldier with those of a scholar. When he was a boy, his family had thought of sending him to a grander school, Winchester, and Mrs. Shipway believes that if his life had taken that turn he might well have become a university don rather than a soldier.

George Shipway loved the countryside, and Mrs. Shipway still treasures a book in which he had collected dried specimens of more than 200 species of wild flower.

Imperial Governor was published in 1968. It takes the form of a memoir of the Roman general Suetonius Paulinus, who, when Governor of Britain, suppressed Boudicca’s rebellion. At 60, George Shipway was an unusually late starter as a published novelist, but he found success at once. Imperial Governor was widely praised.

His next novel, Knight in Anarchy, followed a year later, in 1969. It relates the adventures of Humphrey Visdelou in the chaos of the struggle for the English crown between King Stephen and the Empress Matilda in the mid-twelfth century. It is built around Humphrey’s perverse and helpless devotion to the service of the cruel but charismatic Geoffrey de Mandeville.

Knight in Anarchy is perhaps the quintessential George Shipway novel, full of violence, dirt, fear, and danger, while at the same time being scholarly and a well-constructed story. The story never flags, right up to the fascinating punchline at the very end of the Author’s Note that concludes it: “I live on the fief that Visdelou once held”.

At this point George Shipway quarrelled with his literary agent of the time. Mrs. Shipway recalls him stamping off to his study and swearing that he would never write again. Some months later he emerged with the manuscript of The Chilian Club, a novel that would bring him considerable public notice, much of it hostile.

The Chilian Club (published in the United States as The Yellow Room) is not a historical novel (except for its Prologue), but it needs to be examined here because of its effect upon his reputation for some people.

The Chilian (short for “Chilianwala”) Club in London is founded in the middle of the nineteenth century by the former CO of the 6th. Hussars, a cavalry regiment that had disgraced itself in the opinion of the rest of the Army by its behaviour at the battle of Chilianwala in India in1849, during the Sikh Wars.

By the mid-1970s, Britain is paralysed by strikes and left-wing political activism (an extrapolation by Shipway from the real industrial and political strife of the time). A group of retired Army officers, members of the Chilian Club, decide to redeem the honour of the 6th. Hussars by assassinating the union leaders, left-wing agitators, and even a trendy bishop, whom they believe to be destroying the country. It turns out that the figures whom the Chilian Club select as their targets were financed by the Soviet Union, but there are more revelations, and the novel ends in a sensational and unexpected twist that takes it into science fiction.

The Chilian Club wasn’t politically correct in 1971, and is even less so now. There were plans at the time to film it, but the unions “blacked” the project so that the film was never made.

George Shipway had described The Chilian Club as “a diversion”, but many who read it, or heard of it, were not amused. He was guyed as a silly old retired curry colonel, and was called (unfairly) a Fascist, and (even more unfairly) a racist, an accusation that is absurd to anyone who has read some of his other novels, with their noble Moorish and Indian characters.

Shipway returned to less controversial ground with his next two novels, The Paladin and The Wolf Time, which tell the story of Walter Tirel, known to history as the man who was blamed for killing King William II with an arrow in the New Forest. When Tirel is a boy undergoing a brutal training programme to become an esquire, he meets William Rufus for the first time, and is spellbound by him, although he is appalled by Rufus’ homosexuality.

The Paladin and The Wolf Time contain a gallery of characters that is vaster and more fascinating than in any of George Shipway’s other novels, and the story of Walter Tirel’s 20‑year affair with the alluring but dangerous Isabel of Conches is like no other love story that you have ever read.

George Shipway returned to India, the country where he had spent 28 years of his life, for a pair of novels set at the beginning of the nineteenth century. Unlike The Paladin and The Wolf Time, though, these two novels are not connected except by both being set in India within a few years of each other.

Free Lance follows the fortunes of two friends who have fallen into disgrace in England and taken service with the East India Company: the dashing Hugo Amaury as an army officer, and the stolid Charles Marriott as a junior merchant. Marriott stays loyal to the Company, but Amaury, whose temper nearly ruins his career, decides to strike out into the lawless interior of central India to find a life of power and wealth for himself without the help or approval of the Company.

Charles Marriott is appointed a Collector, effectively a local ruler for the Company, and Amaury accompanies him. Plenty of fights and battles ensue, not least as part of the pursuit of Amaury by Caroline Wrangham, the spirited daughter of a general.

Free Lance is perhaps not Shipway’s most successful novel, depending heavily on a couple of convenient coincidences, but it does make a serious effort to exhibit and explain the attitudes of the East India Company’s soldiers and merchants, and of the Indian peoples with whom they deal.

Ignorance and insensitivity towards Indians are the very theme of Strangers in the Land, which begins five years later, in 1806. A general newly arrived from England orders two small changes to the Indian soldiers’ uniforms and personal appearance regulations. This act eventually leads to a savage mutiny, and equally savage reprisals. The sense throughout Strangers in the Land is of an onrushing disaster, which people of goodwill on both sides try to prevent. In the end, each side feels that it has been betrayed by those whom it trusted, and the Vellore Mutiny of 1806 is a warning that will have been forgotten 50 years later, a forgetfulness that will lead to the much greater Indian Mutiny of 1857.

Strangers in the Land is notable for the large number of Indian characters, and the understanding portrayal of their tragedy, which is important to remember in view of the reputation that The Chilian Club had earned George Shipway in some quarters.

Shipway now moved back 3000 years to produce a pair of novels about the Mycenaean king Agamemnon. He had first become interested in the period when he had been taught the Classics as a schoolboy, and he travelled widely in the Aegean to research the two novels.

The first of the pair, Warrior in Bronze, tells the story of Agamemnon up to the point at which he gains the throne of Mycenae. Warrior in Bronze is full of characters from Classical mythology and drama, such as Hercules, Clytemnaistra, Castor, and Pollux, and the novel gives origins for them from which the tales and legends might have grown. Shipway also serves up his usual quota of battles, intrigues, and shocking acts of violence. Agamemnon, who narrates his own story, is entirely unrepentant, and believes that only a harsh and ruthless man could rule in the Greece of his time. When Warrior in Bronze ends, the seeds of the coming Trojan War are already sprouting.

The second novel of the Mycenaean pair, King in Splendour, tells the story of how Agamemnon brings about the war against Troy of which he has long dreamt. His account of how it really happened varies in many respects from the story we know from Homer’s Iliad. This is because, in King in Splendour, the bard who composed the Iliad is a hired hack brought to Troy by Achilles, and who is paid to compose an epic that reflects maximum credit upon Achilles, and the minimum upon Agamemnon. At the end of the novel, Agamemnon prepares to sail home, wolfishly considering how he will execute his treacherous queen Clytemnaistra and her lover Aegisthus. He cannot know that it is Clytemnaistra who will have the last brutal triumph.

King in Splendour was George Shipway’s last novel, published when he was 71. Mrs. Shipway had long urged him to retire when he reached 70, but sadly his health failed soon afterwards, and he died in 1982.

It had been an extraordinary career, lasting only 11 years. George Shipway had been first published even later than Alfred Duggan (whose first novel had come out when Duggan was 47), and his novels had been published over an even shorter period than Duggan’s (11 years, as against 14 years).

One can also compare Shipway with his friend John Masters. Shipway’s novels combine the scholarship of Duggan (who, like Shipway and Masters, had served as a soldier in combat) with the roughness of Masters. Shipway’s Amaury family, members of which make appearances from the eleventh century to the twentieth, is perhaps a deliberate echo of Masters’ Savage family.

Duggan had Shipway’s erudition, but lacked his toughness, while Masters had the toughness but did not have Shipway’s deep education.

George Shipway’s most notable distinction as a historical novelist is his unflinching representation of the attitudes of the times and places of which he wrote. We may be appalled by Walter Tirel’s willingness to kill helpless peasants in order to weaken a rival lord’s economic power, while at the same time Tirel is always obedient to the laws of honour. Those laws simply don’t apply to serfs. As modern readers, we do not have to approve of his viewpoint, but that does seem to be the way a man of his time and class would have seen it.

In his Indian novels, Shipway is quite aware (even mentioning it in a foreword to Free Lance, for example), that the attitudes of his British characters are now considered reprehensible, but he is not afraid to give them the outlook of their own time. He is equally faithful to the attitudes of his Indian characters, not all of which would be approved of by modern Indians.

Because George Shipway never modified his historical novels to fit modern views, they have not dated, whereas The Chilian Club is now a period piece that would require notes and explanations if it were to be published again, which is highly unlikely.

George Shipway’s historical novels are strong meat indeed, and will not appeal to everyone. His in-your-face, no-apologies style leaves no room for indifference. Either you like his novels or you don’t.
His undoubted strengths are the force, clarity, and imagery of his writing, and the accuracy of his backgrounds. He has a rare gift for vivid verbal pictures: a flight of arrows shot from one ship to another at sea forms “a shimmering bridge”; looking out over the length of the city wall of mediaeval London, “(the) helmets of the watch and ward twinkled like jewels on a two-mile-long diadem”.

Those who like to read historical fiction will find that he is an author who can make another time and place live with a skill that few historical novelists can match. Those who write historical fiction as well can learn from an author who never forced his characters to adopt whatever attitudes were fashionable at the time or writing, instead of the attitudes of their own time.

Alan Fisk lives in London. His historical novels include The Strange Things of the World, The Summer Stars, Forty Testoons, and Cupid and the Silent Goddess. His website is at http://www.geocities.com/alanfisk/