Some Iddy Widdy Biddies Caught in Stone

Come with us now as we stumble backwards, beyond the abyss of human history, spiralling uncontrollably through the evolution of mankind, descending helplessly past the realms of the dinosaurs, as the convoluted vortex of chronological sequence draws us ever on towards…
On second thoughts, sod that. It’s costing too much in special effects. Let’s go for a walk on Fleetwood beach instead.


That’s Fleetwood beach, look, those two angular patches amongst the greenery being the model yacht lake, with the River Wyre emptying into Morecambe Bay in the background, and beyond that Knott End, all courtesy of Frank and his aerial photography.
But look closer!
You’ll have to look closer than that.
Well go on! Get your nose stuck right into the beach, otherwise you won’t be able to see what we found one day amongst a small patch of otherwise insignificant pebbles.


Any idea what these are? (No smutty answers either!) Yes, obviously they’re pebbles. We can all see that. But what are those weird, half-inflated balloon-like markings on them?
I’ll give you a clue.
They’re fossils.
Too much of clue that, wasn’t it? Never mind, they are fossils whatever the case, small, single-celled ancient marine creatures that once shimmied and rolled their pointless tracks across the sea floor, doing whatever it was that single-celled sea creatures millions of years ago actually did with their time. (Watching Coronation Street and playing Trivial Pursuits probably.)
Some single celled organisms from the dawn of life were quite large by comparison to our own mini-hattifatners, some of the fossils having been discovered in various oceans reaching the size of your average grape. They went in for big and blocky and basic back then. Like cell-phones. Single cell phones, if you like.
Some of the fat ones are still around today, going under the name of Gromia Sphaerica, or the giant deep-sea protist, although I’d like to see them try to spell it.
There are probably quite a few of the other type, the iddy biddy single-celled fossils, on Fleetwood beach if you want look for them. Some aren’t quite so blobby and rubbish either.
Have a gander at this.


Now that, dear friends, is a fossilised shrimp! Or possibly a bit of fern, it’s tricky to say. It’s ancient anyhow, a perfect imprint preserved in stone for hundreds of thousands of millennia, smashed from the rocks in which it was petrified by pounding waves and then hurled angrily around the sea bed for thousands of years, until finally being washed ashore at Fleetwood, where we discovered it, took it home and stuck it on the window ledge in the bog.
Here are a couple more slightly advanced fossils we’ve found on the beach in our time.


The little one on the left is what’s known as a crinoid, or sea lily. They have mouths at the top of their…er…tube bits, surrounded by a number of feeding arms. In fossil form they’re usually broken into pieces (like the one we found) and date back to the mid-Palaeozoic era. (A very, very long time ago.)
Our late friend and archaeological hero Headlie Lawrenson found a fossilised crinoid once, as well. It was in the stream at Broadfleet Bridge, lying amongst a pile of Roman pottery fragments and a wolf’s tooth. What it was doing there is anybody’s guess.
The one on the right is…well to be honest we’re not sure. It might be the Geoff Capes of the crinoid world, to be honest, although we suspect that it’s a fossilised bone belonging to some marine mammal such as a sea cow many millions of years now deceased.
Finally, we have this.


Now that’s a trilobite, which means it’s got ‘three lobes’. (Bet it was popular at parties, and no doubt managed to pull a few muscles in its day.) Trilobites are now extinct but first appeared in the Early Cambrian period (about 542 million years ago) and continued swimmingly, so to speak, throughout the Palaeozoic era before disappearing completely about 250 million years ago.
It’s very rare to find one of these in Fleetwood, so we were well chuffed. We discovered this one in the hippy shop on Lord Street for the very reasonable price of two and a half quid

I might be gone some time...

Following a slight altercation with British Telecom the other night concerning an allegedly outstanding bill, a mouthy salesperson and some brain-dead billing assistant who didn't appear to understand a single word I was saying/shouting loudly at her down the phone to India -- possibly she just didn't want to understand, it was hard to tell -- my contract with said telecommunication's company has now been terminated, effective of about halfway through next week. (I'm not paying those theiving squitter-munchers sixty-five quid a month for a service that involves an e-mail server that crashes ever ten minutes!)

As a result, I might be off-line for a bit...at least until I've decided which route to travel next along the information super highway (it'll be the hard shoulder at this rate), purchased all the relevent equipment and set it up...oh yes...and bought a couple of mobile phones as well. I refuse to have an ordinary phone in my house from this week forward, seeing as BT own the monopoly on all the landlines in Britain. Good old Thatcher -- her legacy of greed and the faceless anihilation of socialist enterprise lives on, even if her feeble, withered, evil old mind doesn't.

To cut a long story short, I've set this board onto auto-scheduling for a couple of months, just in case my departure turns out to be longer than originally planned. After next Wednesday's posting, the Fylde and Wyre Antiquarian will update itself every Sunday (I think...correction, I hope), just don't expect too many of the usual drunken, unamusing replies in the comments boxes until I'm back.

Hopefully that won't be too long. See y'all on the flip side. If I'm not back by Christmas I'll probably have emigrated to Finland.

Brian (Hughes, that is -- beleagured campaigner against self-centred idiots in almost every walk of life)

Useful Knowledge for Men

Now we come, so to speak, to an extremely delicate subject, and it goes without saying that children or adults of a nervous disposition (especially womenfolk) should click on one of our external links immediately, before the matter at hand (again, so to speak) corrupts them bodily and psychologically. In fact, perhaps it would be best if you went and made us all a nice cup of tea.
Have they left the room?
Good!
Gentlemen, the following important, scientifically researched booklet on…ahem…let us say ‘self abuse’ and not clutter up the otherwise clean highways of the Internet with unnecessary expletives, has recently fallen into my hands. Actually, it was shoved into my hands by the extremely insistent Mr Barker (Master Butcher) who seemed to be under the impression that I had sore need of said booklet’s advice.
Exactly how it was delivered into Mr Barker’s hands in the first place, I didn’t enquire. Let’s just say that somebody somewhere considered it very important for him to own a personal copy, because this ‘Treatise on Weakness in Men’ has been signed by no less a personage than the author himself, S. Gould (Specialist) as the frontispiece from the publication below demonstrates:


Perhaps Mr Barker was once a close personal friend of our abstinent scientist. We can only hope, because the knowledge contained within this book has no doubt saved him (and many other wanton males) hours of suffering from weak bladders, short sightedness and even, possibly, rickets.
In the author’s own words his ‘Reason’ for the booklet’s publication (which has nothing whatsoever to do with an attempt to flog you some chastity pants at the end) is as follows:
“(For) the great number of cases continually coming under my notice who must be suffering in solitude…” (Editor: Perhaps an unfortunate choice of phraseology there) “…this book will at least enable the sufferer, by a proper description of symptoms and simple mode of treatment, to relieve himself.” (Editor: No…honestly…this is a genuine booklet, delivered without intentional irony. It doesn’t have much to do with the Fylde and Wyre, I must admit, but it is informative and antiquarian, and if you think for one moment that I could resist posting it on the Internet, then you’ve obviously never met me.)
But why quote the booklet when we can just as easily scan some of it in? If you’re having difficulty reading the following image, and let’s be honest, under the circumstances that’s not surprising, then simply click on the picture to enlarge it…er…once again, so to speak:


See! Prone towards idiocy! And that’s a fact because it’s written in black and white, in a book and everything! I wonder what those suspicious looking stains are all over the pages.
Let’s move hastily on.
After several chapters full of lurid descriptions and illustrations of secretions and other nasty problems caused through, let’s say ‘onerous practices’, (which despite S. Gould’s insistence to the contrary, could very well ‘upset readers’…especially if they’ve just had their tea, so we’re not about to reproduce them here) we finally reach the nub of the matter. (Save the innuendoes for the comments boxes, eh? And please remember, this is still a family site. I’ve no intention of upgrading to P.G. so consider carefully what you’re writing before leaving offensive remarks, will you?)


Also available in pink and leopard skin.
I don’t know about you, but my eyes are watering just looking at the illustration. Michelle must be chopping onions downstairs. (Again, supply your own innuendoes if necessary.)
So there you have it. Should you find it necessary to borrow this booklet for your own self-restraint, please make further enquiries to Mr Barker. I, of course, found it educational, but have little need for such enlightening material myself.
Right, ladies and kiddies back out from behind the sofa, please.
Normal service will be resumed with the next posting.

Meet the Wyre Archaeology Crowd

We write a lot about the exciting adventures of Wyre Archaeology on this board. It’s hardly surprising. The board was designed with Wyre Archaeology in mind. I know it’s called the Fylde and Wyre Antiquarian, but in archaeology circles it’s also known as the Wyre Archaeology Blogger Board. (Don’t ask…it’s a long and complicated story and even less interesting than the ones I usually write, so I’m not even going there.)
However, we’ve never actually produced an article about Wyre Archaeology (recognised member of the British Council for Archaeology) itself -- just articles about what we get up to.
With that in mind, let me introduce you to some of the squad:


There we are, look, as captured on digital media by Steve, in our official Head Quarters (i.e. the café at Wyrefield Farm).
Those names hovering menacingly above us, incidentally, are painted onto the ceiling beams. At the start of every meeting we’re obligated (according to the rules of the constitution) to stand underneath them in the correct arrangement so that we don’t get confused.
Let’s quickly run through the committee.
First up there’s Gary (second from the left), our treasurer. He’s also a metal detectorist.
Behind him, the curve of his balding pate just about visible over Gary’s shoulder, is Ken, our secretary. Ken’s written and illustrated a few excellent local history books in his time. Long before we met him we already owned a couple of his works. Now we’ve got signed copies, of course.
Then there’s George…George is our chairman.
The next committee member (moving from left to right through the mob) would be me. I’m the site manager, which basically means that I take my own chair to excavations and sit there eating pies and drinking coffee and giving out orders and stuff.
Frank’s up next. Frank’s our committee member for aerial reconnaissance. He’s our pilot, in other words, and a damned fine one too. We’ve obtained some cracking shots of potential sites because of him.
Finally, hiding away behind one of our unnamed students on the far right, is David, our vice chairman, a top-notch all-round archaeologist.
Michelle’s on the committee as well, but she wasn’t feeling too good on the evening this photograph was taken and was at home in bed, stuffing her face with chocolates and watching QVC. Michelle’s our archivist, and she also does a bit research from time to time.
Back to the left hand side of the group then for the non-committee but equally as important members.
First up, John, excavator, holder of stadia staffs and expert in glass blowing techniques, building materials and bits of broken pot.
Next non-committee member to the right is Pat, who’s very good at organising stuff.
Then there’s Danielle, our geophysics team. What Danielle doesn’t know about geophysics equipment you could write several books about. However, she knows how to use it, and frequently does so, which makes her invaluable in my book.
Dave 1 (otherwise known as Dave Hammond) is a damned fine researcher.
Ed specialises in electro-magnetic rust removal. (Both him and Dave 1 are also very handy with trowels, I ought to add.)
Chris…now Chris is my second in command site manager and also head of the surveying team. He was the first one to pin down that Roman road in Stalmine, which I was mightily impressed by.
Dave 2 (otherwise known as Dave Hampson) is not only a keen excavator, but also a metal detectorist like our treasurer Gary. And he’s our linguistics expert. Talk to him in Norse, Saxon, Celtic, Latin…and the rest of us won’t have a clue what you’re going on about.
Steve, unfortunately, doesn’t make it to as many meetings as he’d like, but he’s a thoroughly decent bloke nonetheless.
Finally Colin, another good excavator and the bloke who lives in John Lennon’s childhood holiday home, which is quite impressive.
There are one or two Wyre Archaeology members missing from that photograph who definitely deserve a mention, so let’s start with Barbara.


There’s Barbara, look. Barbara was on holiday when the group photograph was taken, but she’s generally there alongside us on our excavations, doing all the hard work while the rest of us watch.
Mick Banner’s also missing from the photograph. I’m not sure why, because I know he was there on the night. He must have been hiding behind the ice cream cabinet or something.
And Francis Twizell, of course, we mustn’t forget him.
Laura’s missing too. Laura’s an experienced excavator and is particularly good at wielding a trowel.
And Fiona wasn’t there. Let’s have a photograph of Fiona just for the record.


Fiona’s currently studying for her archaeology degree down in Bournemouth, but she can prove useful from time to time when she can bothered coming back.
I ought to mention Bob as well. He’s the chairman of the Pilling Historic Society (or, at least, he was last time I checked). What Bob doesn’t know about local history probably isn’t worth knowing.
Then there’s Jean, who’s currently living in Rome where the archaeology might be a bit more impressive, but the butties are nowhere near as good.
And Carlo and Hilary. (Carlo probably puts more effort into his excavating than the rest of us combined.)
And Harry, with his big mechanical digger.
I’m sure I’ve probably forgotten half a dozen people there. (I’ll get complaints.)
Right, so, now that you’ve met us all, what exactly is it that we do?
We do archaeology, of course, that’s what! What a bloody stupid question.
There’s always room for more inside, though. So if you’re reading this and you haven’t been too perturbed by all the ugly faces and the pot bellies and stuff in the preceding photographs, and, for reasons best left between you and your psychiatrist, you fancy getting involved, then here’s what you should do.
Turn up at one of our monthly meetings in the café at Wyrefield Farm (otherwise known as Farmer Parr’s…because it’s a farm and it’s owned by James Parr, who is the farmer). Meetings are held every third Wednesday of the month, starting between 7.00 p.m. and 7.15 p.m. (Bring a bottle and a bird.)
Alternatively you can contact one of the committee members (some of their telephone numbers can be found at the top of the right hand column of this board) or e-mail me (again…right hand column…check it out, the information’s all there) for further details.
We can even add you to our e-mail list, if you like, to keep you abreast of all our latest adventures, the where’s, the when’s, the why’s and the whether-or-not-we’ll-be-turning-up-weather-permitting’s.
One last photograph to whet your appetite and then I’m off for lunch.


Now if that doesn’t get your archaeological juices flowing, I don’t know what will.
Hope to see you soon.

This is not an advert...honest

Here's me wearing this summer's must-have sweatshirt design. Actually it went a bit wrong and the printer had to redo some of it by hand, so I'll have to redesign it slightly before anyone can actually order their own. Whatever...here's a taste of things to come at any rate:

The Wyre Archaeology logo, incidentally, when it's been tweeked a bit and what have you, will be available on mugs, tee-shirts, hi-viz jackets, hard hats, bags...whatever you fancy really. I'll probably be wearing this sweatshirt to the meeting on Wednesday if anybody's interested in further details. (I'd have put said details up on this board if I hadn't lost the name and address of the place that does them. It's on Dock Street in Fleetwood, if you want your own...next door to Windsors. Fruit of the Loom, good quality too -- only £12.00! You can't say fairer than that.)
If you're going to be an archaeologist, you might as well look the part. I reckon everyone should buy a Wyre Archaeology sweatshirt for the 2009 digging season personally. (It's better than carrying one of our membership cards if you want to get into the back of a museum, onto excavation sites and into all manner of otherwise forbidden areas.)

Addendum: Right, I've found the business card I was looking for. The shop where you can get these things printed (as soon as I've given them the all-new, redesigned, ever-so-slightly modified artwork, of course) is M. J. Workwear & Supplies, Unit 1A, Dock Street, Fleetwood. They even have a website where you can browse through all the items that, I've no doubt, our eager members will want to brand with the Wyre Archaeology logo: http://www.mjworkwear.co.uk

Another Addendum: While I'm here, I just want to mention a couple of new sites well worth a visit. The first of these is Mike Mallon's 'Thornton Cleveleys Forum' (just click on the link if you fancy checking it out) -- the ideal place to visit for anyone who's ever lived, or even still lives, in Thornton Cleveleys. (It does exactly what it says on the tin.)
The other site is actually two, I suppose, both created by Melanie Jones and both with the same basic purpose in mind. The first part is a bloggerboard accompaniment to the main site, the latter of which is called 'Thornton Through Time'. (The name's probably self explanatory really, so I won't bother explaining what it's about.) Both are well worth a gander.

One last Addendum: Anybody who wants to order a copy of the Wyre Archaeology Excavation Reports (there's two books of 'em now...all the previous Bourne Hill stuff and the reports from 2008) could you please bring your wallets/purses/wads of cash stuffed into your knicker elastic with you to Wednesday's meeting. (£8.00 per book should just about cover it.) I'm going to need the money up front before ordering this time around I'm afraid, due to a bit of a cash flow problem with regards to Pay Pal. Right, that's it for now. Cheers!

One even more last and extremely final Addendum: There's a limited range of this Wyre Archaeology stuff available to buy online as well at our Cafepress Store although you might have to renew your mortage before you can purchase any of it. (Better off buying it from DOCK STREET -- not Dork Street -- if you want my opinion.)

So Long and Thanks for all the Cow Manure: Part Two

It’s time to continue our chronological record of Wyre Archaeology’s activities during the year of Our Lord 2008, for anybody who might be interested and hasn’t succumbed to the intoxicating dangers of too much egg-nog by now, leaving out all the long winded bits such as contour surveying and pie eating and beer drinking and ordering the womenfolk about and the somnambulistic committee meetings etc.
So, to steer this article back onto track, at some point during the year (July, if memory serves) we received an email from Mr Bradshaw of Bodkin Hall, Pilling, asking if we’d like to investigate his front drive, because it was full of old cobbles and bits of iron and intriguing bones and other antiquarian stuff. Me, Michelle and Fiona took a ‘preamble’ around the Georgian cottage first, veering off after about quarter of an hour up the public footpath near by that skirts round the back of the now disused
Newer’s Wood graveyard, where the following unflattering photograph was taken.


We dug Bodkin Hall in September. It took us four weeks. At the outset of the excavation all of the other members of Wyre Archaeology insisted that we’d find a mediaeval road buried beneath the drive. “No!” I told them, emphatically. “It’s bound to be all Edwardian and Victorian stuff!” (At least that’s how I remember it, and I’m writing this up so that’s an end to the matter.)
As it transpired there was no mediaeval road to be found, just a lot of Edwardian and Victorian stuff, which just goes to show. (What? It wasn’t me who came up with the mediaeval road theory! They’re all fibbing! Honest!)


Just for the record, from left to right in the photograph above are Chris (burying a half eaten cheese and pickle butty in the trench), Paul (practising his dance for the up and coming Pilling Playhouse performance of Tinkerbell), Carlo (having a game of pool with a snail, using several old marbles as the balls, a ranging pole as the cue and the wheelbarrow as the table) and Ed (discovering a first edition folio of ‘Love’s Labours Won’ in Trench 001).
It was a good dig, especially the bacon butties and the chocolate cake. We found lots of Hartley’s marmalade jars and horseshoes and a creepy Victorian doll’s leg. And a pocketknife. And a homemade wooden bat and ball. And a bicycle brake. And an old brooch. And some homemade marbles. And several other things that I can’t quite remember off hand. I enjoyed myself immensely. Especially the bacon butties and the chocolate cake…or have I already mentioned them?
Moving on, and October saw our return to the unhallowed platform at Grange Farm, Stalmine.


Despite a grand start to the month, inevitably the British summer turned on its heels, bypassed autumn completely, and went straight into the freezing, sleet-spattered, gale-shredded bowels of Stalmine Hell. By November there was cow dung everywhere (including Chris’s hood, which he wasn’t terribly happy about) and we wrapped up the excavations for the season every bit as confused as on the day that we first started.
The archaeological year wasn’t quite over yet, though.
There was still plenty of contour surveying and geophysing to do, so as winter drew on we found ourselves back at that perennial old favourite of ours, the Iron Age settlement at Bourne Hill, Thornton. Undeterred by the Siberian conditions, Danielle carried out the first of her geophysical surveys of the plateau. Chris and Carlo in the meantime, abandoned by the rest of Wyre Archaeology all of whom had suddenly found something much more important to do, embarked on their contour survey of the site.


And that just about wraps it up for 2008.
There were a few other events that took place over the course of the year, such as Barbara, Harry and Jean opening the Wyre Archaeology stall at Lambs Road, and us bringing a couple of new books out (nothing new there), and there was a lot more contour surveying and stuff, and we appeared in the local newspapers quite a few times, and David Ratledge gave us an interesting talk about Roman roads. But, to be honest, I’ve been hitting the eggnog a bit hard myself tonight, so I reckon it’s about time to bring this annual record to a close.
A great big thanks to everybody who made this year such an enormous success (and it was a success…or at least it was good fun if you’re going to be pedantic about it…some of the womenfolk could have worked a bit harder perhaps, but it’s Christmas so I’m going to be lenient with them).
To paraphrase that bloke off the Fast Show: “Next year we will be mostly digging Bourne Hill.”
So here’s to 2009, and now I’m going to bugger off before I fall off my chair.

So Long and Thanks for all the Cow Manure: Part One

It’s that time of year again, when the Archbishop of Canterbury appears on the telly every quarter of an hour or so complaining that the true meaning of Christmas has been lost (presumably by which he’s referring to the Mithraist mid-winter knees-up that the Christian festival supplanted), when the bulging duvet of the sky is kept aloft on stilts of smoke from huddled chimney stacks in the fashion of some Kafkaesque nightmare, and when the gas companies all raise their prices by several hundred per cent whilst simultaneously attempting to molly-coddle their customers with a couple of free energy-saving light bulbs. (It’ll take more than two 40-watt bulbs and one cardboard tube stuffed with broken glass to win me over!)
In other words, the inexorable crawl towards New Year is underway, so, as tradition requires, it’s time to reflect on Wyre Archaeology’s achievements of the previous twelve months. But first, a photograph courtesy of Frank (Wyre Archaeology Committee Member for Aerial Photography) that, hopefully, should enable the casual reader to pin down some of the sites mentioned in the following report.


Now there’s something that’s different about 2008, right away. We’ve always used aerial photographs at Wyre Archaeology, of course. After all, it’s a bit difficult to discover new sites without the occasional oblique view of some sun-scorched field or other. However, this year, because of Frank’s timely arrival, we’ve been able to take said photographs from the relative comfort of a proper Cessna, as opposed to hanging on for grim death to the wobbly seat of some flimsy microlite. As a result we can now obtain clear and concise pictures such as the one above, rather than the usual blurred, tearstained images in which it’s difficult to determine what’s sky and what’s ground.
So cheers for that Frank. It’s much appreciated.
At the outset of 2008 the committee was presented with a huge list of sites (potential, known and/or otherwise) to investigate, excavate and/or percolate over for the up-and-coming year.
So, how did we get on?
Well, to the best of my memory, we haven’t taken a look at a single one of ’em. However, there is a good reason. Other sites, places that by their accessibility and intrinsic novelty value are enough to get any red-blooded archaeologist’s imagination ticking, have been flinging themselves at us right, left and centre throughout the year in much the same way that the cow pats in various fields have been doing to us on windy afternoons.
Let’s start with High Gate Lane then and the following photograph of several members of the Wyre Archaeology Excavation Squad hard at work on the stubborn twinges and excess flab caused through years of neglect.


That’s Colin with his bottle of whisky water there, and Gary holding what appears to be a pig’s ear or something; and that’s Michelle in the trench wearing my hat, presumably because she’d left hers at home.
High Gate Lane was a short but interesting dig in search of a Roman road. We’d speculated for years that there ought to be one in the vicinity, but it wasn’t until Chris realised that various humps and bumps in one of the local fields bore a remarkable resemblance to an ancient agger that we had anything substantial to go on. And if it hadn’t been for the rather worried questioning of the landowner’s daughter, who’d spotted us leering guiltily over the fence as though we were casing up the joint, then we’d never have had the opportunity to excavate at all.
So, what did we find? Well…a Roman road by all accounts. It wasn’t metalled (because the cobbles had been nicked at some point presumably) and we didn’t find any artefacts to positively date it, but it did have an agger and a ‘V’ shaped ditch, which was just what we wanted, so all in all it looked pretty convincing.
Hopefully we’ll dig up a bit more at some future date, possibly finding a few Roman coins or a buried centurion in the ditch or an amphora or something, when we do. For now, however, we’ll have to be satisfied with what we’ve accomplished, because the landowner’s using the field to exercise his horses and doesn’t want any of them falling down a ruddy big hole. I can’t say as I blame him, to be honest.
That was in May.
By June we were doing this.


On the left of the photograph, Barbara waits with a trowel in her hand to get ‘down and dirty’ in the trench whilst Laura (in the thick of it) scrapes the cow muck from an ancient Taiwanese kneeling pad. On the right of the photograph, Gary, Ed, Ken and Mick keep morale at a premium by cracking schoolboy jokes, complaining about the weather and discussing the problems of advancing dotage with regards to their kneecaps.
In the current vernacular, the platform at Grange Farm was ‘a ruddy great bugger of site’ to dig. We went in search of a mediaeval watermill and its (possibly) accompanying grain kiln. What we actually found was a big heap of rubble (admittedly most of it was mediaeval), a number of postholes that didn’t make much sense, and an awful lot of clay. We still reckon it’s the site of an ancient watermill though…but we’ve put it on the back boiler for now until we’ve got our strength back.
Then, one evening, this happened.


This was Eskham, of course. (Editor: What do you mean, ‘Of Course’?)
Pictured from left to right are Colin, Harry, George, Dave (I), Dave (II) (I’m not sure what happened to Daves 2 through to 10) and one corner of me.
The earthworks at Eskham have long been a cause of heated discussion amongst local archaeologists, some of us reckoning that they’re significant and prehistoric, others claiming that they’re relatively modern and of no archaeological consequence. Several fights broke out on the evening we visited, one of them resulting in George being thrown into a trough of pigswill and Harry being somersaulted through the air on the back of a sheep with one of the farm cats wrapped around his neck.
The more civilised amongst us, i.e. me and Michelle, met up for the first time with John Salisbury, a leading light in the Pilling Historic Society and the author of a rather excellent book about the earthworks at Nateby.
Okay…I’ve run out of space.
It’s a good job that we haven’t reached New Year yet, because we’ve still got quite a bit of this recap to go.
See you in a few days time then?

An Appeal on behalf of the Fylde Country Life Museum

It’s time to take a break from our usual archaeological ramblings so that we can post an appeal instead. (To be honest, I’ve been trying to appeal to people for years, but as can be seen from our hit counter that’s never going to happen.) The advertised article will, of course, be appearing on Saturday as promised/threatened…so don’t start getting all uppity about it.

Right…there are two museums in Fleetwood.
There’s one, the more famous one in fact, that’s devoted to trawlers and old sailing ships and all matters maritime. It’s a good museum (even if it is struggling a bit nowadays, when, as far as general society’s concerned, being thick carries more street credibility than knowledge does). It sells our books, so it’s actually an excellent museum. It has a ‘Friends of the Fleetwood Museum’ society to keep it shipshape and Bristol fashion.
Then there’s the less well-known museum that concerns itself with the agricultural aspects of the Fylde and Wyre, even going so far as to have the occasional uninvited sheep invading its displays.
This is Oliver. (No, we’re not kidding…he really is called Oliver and he likes Polo mints, so if you want to make friends with him quickly you know what to do.) He strolls into the Fylde Country Life Museum from time to time to brush up on his historical knowledge and leave little presents behind the mediaeval ploughs.


Back in the old days, before Wyre Archaeology began to encroach on all of our spare time, Michelle and me would spend almost every weekend at the Fylde Country Life Museum, producing information boards, drinking brews and gossiping, watching the curators sort out the displays. (We never sorted the displays out ourselves. That’s manual work, that is. As Ken’s always saying: “We’re management.”)
In those days the museum was run by Neil Thompson (sadly deceased), John Shorrocks (buried in Kirkham), Tony Bloomer (gone to meet his maker) and John Higginson -- still with us but retired from farming and massively overwhelmed with trying to run a museum of this size all on his own.
And it is a surprisingly big museum considering how few people realise it even exists.
This is a photograph of one of the main rooms. It’s not usually as untidy as this, but the photograph was taken during extension work. You’d be surprised how much floor and balcony space the museum actually covers.


Therein lies the problem, you see. With the exception of Mr. Higginson (of the Pilling Historic Society), everybody’s gone but the museum still needs plenty of attention.
Here’s another appeal as scanned in from last month’s Fylde Country Life Preservation Society newsletter:


The Fylde Country Life Museum needs volunteers for all sorts of stuff. Taking round interested parties, whacking school kids on the head, helping with the displays, producing newsletters and information boards, sorting out newly acquired artefacts, polishing prehistoric querns…you name it, the place is short of people to do it.
This isn’t the first appeal we’ve made, of course. A couple of years ago Michelle and I produced a booklet and planned an open evening which, unfortunately, due to various complications, never took place. Nonetheless, here’s the front cover of said booklet:


And because we’re in that sort of mood, here’s the back cover as well.


We’re not going to include the interior of the booklet. You get the general idea.
Anyhow, the Fylde Country Life Museum has its own staff room and, if you volunteer, you’ll get free brews and stuff and even a ‘Museum Staff’ badge, which you can proudly wear to all public occasions.
So, if you’ve got any spare time on your hands, be it a couple of hours a week or ten hours a day every day, and you fancy doing something interesting, community-minded, useful and educational, then please get in touch with John Higginson by telephoning (01253) 790480.
If you’d like a bit more information about the Fylde Country Life Museum (or the Fylde Country Life Heritage Centre as it used to be called), and I do mean a ‘bit’, then you can follow this link: http://www.farmerparrs.com/Heritage.htm
(And if you’re any good at designing websites, you might like to volunteer for that as well.)
That is all. Normal service will be resumed at this board on Saturday as usual...and this week's other posting, as the chronological crow flies, show be just beneath this one.

Monday Afternoon Quickie...

It's funny how some stories just seem to run, isn't it? Thought I'd post this by way of a mid-mid-week offering. It was sent to me by Anthony Coppin of the Garstang Courier. (Cheers for that Anthony.) I know it's another rehash of the 'Roman pillars at the North Euston' story, but this one appeared in the Longridge News. Yes, our fame is spreading, folks. The North Euston's probably doing quite well out of this too. (You'll have to click on the image below if you want to actually read it.)

While I'm here, how about an update on the Wyre Archaeology Bric-a-brac stall at the Lambs Road car boot sale in Thornton, yesterday? Well, Jean, Harry and Barbara you'll be glad to know, managed to raise a grand total of £140.00...which isn't bad, you've got to admit. I took this photograph of Jean and Babara hard at work when me and Chris were en route to Grange Farm in the morning. Jean particularly wanted to show off her S.P.Q.R. teeshirt. (Don't ask me...something to do with Queen's Park Rangers I think.)

Before anyone starts grumbling, Thursday's posting (all being well) will be appearing as advertised (and as it ought to be) on Thursday as usual. And any members of Wyre Archaeology reading this who might have forgotten...The Shovels Inn, Hambleton, 7.00 p.m. this Wednesday evening. Bring a trowel and butties etc.

Under Orders

It’s that time of year again when Wyre Archaeology is so strapped for cash we’re willing to sell our souls to the devil. (“Just sign your name here, sir. In blood if you don’t mind.” “’Ere! That’s not an inkwell!”) However, seeing as most of us haven’t reclaimed our souls from the pawnshop yet, we’ve decided to release another book instead.
All right, so it’s a rehash of most of the articles on this website (without the videos or slideshows and stuff because, obviously, they wouldn’t work in print), but we’re desperate here, and if you don’t order a copy immediately we’ll be forced to take George Birchall out the back and shoot him.

There are certain advantages to owning the Fylde and Wyre Antiquarian in print rather than reading it on the web.
One: You can keep it by the side of the loo and, because the pages are absorbent, it’ll come in handy if you have an emergency.
Two: When you’ve finished with it (which won’t take long) you can give it to somebody else as a Christmas present (preferably somebody you don’t really like).
Three: There isn’t a three. That’s it I’m afraid.
Some of you might have noticed that our list of outlets in the right hand column has vanished recently. That’s because most of our local bookshops have gone bankrupt (don’t blame us…we were the only things keeping them going as far as I can work out). As a result we’re now owed millions of quid, and we’re not likely to see any of it in a hurry. For the time being, therefore, we’re selling our books directly, so watch out for old fogies wearing anachronistic hats with trays round their necks in a street near you soon. Alternatively, you can buy our books over the Internet as usual. (The links are there in the right hand column. All you have to do is click.)
Wyre Archaeology members please take note: We’ll be taking orders for the new ‘Fylde and Wyre Antiquarian’ book at the next meeting, so bring plenty of spondoolix and make sure to ask your friends and relatives etc. if they’d like a copy too. If you don’t, then we’ll be digging our trenches with plastic coffee spoons next year.
As we’ve already mentioned several times, all the proceeds from this book will be going into the Wyre Archaeology coffers, so do your bit and order a copy now. If sales haven’t reached 10,000 by this time next month, in addition to George being shot I’ll be posting a photograph on this board in which the book isn’t obscuring most of my face. After that…who knows what horrors lie in wait? On your own heads be it!

A Midweek Flashback to Last Summer…

That’d be the summer of 2007, of course, when Wyre Archaeology set about decimating Bourne Hill with a mechanical digger, accompanied by a swathe of other people whom we’d never seen before and, to be honest, haven’t seen since. (That’s what happens when we don’t follow the country code and we leave the gate to the field open. Fortunately there weren’t any bulls around that afternoon otherwise the Fleetwood peninsula would have been in big trouble.)
Anyhow, Gary Thornton (Wyre Archaeology Treasurer) recently gave us a CD crammed to bursting point with photographs from that occasion. And being the sort of people that we are (i.e. ones who can’t be bothered doing any proper research for this board) we thought it’d be simpler just to cobble a few of the aforementioned photographs together to create this article.
So, first up, a panoramic shot in which everybody appears to be standing around waiting for everybody else to do some work. This is fairly typical of excavations. The bystanders only perk up when a large horde of coins is suddenly unearthed. I think the bloke in the stupid hat is Brad Pitt. (Yes…all right…I know this is the second time in as many weeks that I’ve inflicted the reader with a photograph of myself…but I haven’t been in the paper for over a fortnight now and I’m getting withdrawal symptoms.)
As always, click on the thumbnails for the larger versions…but make sure you click the ‘back’ button again once you’ve finished, rather than wandering off to a more interesting site.

Next up, the metal detectorists get to work on an enormous prehistoric cowpat, whilst Mick Aston videos the proceedings for the ensuing court case and Fiona Birchall supervises the process with a small, but deadly, trowel.Eventually the team settle down into the dig proper, and they’re soon hunting for Father Christmas’ missing sack of toys, whilst Santa himself watches over them. (Like I say, we’ve really no idea who half of these people were. There could be whole amphorae now in private collections that emerged from the hill, vanished into cars and we never found out. That’s not a terribly likely scenario, of course, but perhaps we ought to have better security at the next dig.)Around this juncture a small herd of cows from Rossall point decide to put in an appearance, offering their own personal expertise on the archaeological landscape, whilst at the same time, being intent on licking everything in sight from rucksacks to the excavators’ bald heads.

Finally, exhausted after a long day’s excavation, in which a solitary shard of pottery and an awful lot of uneven clay floor were produced, Neil and Fiona settle down and share a joke about Martyn King’s hairstyle. (I’m going to start receiving letter bombs and stuff after this, I can tell.)Okay, that’s how I remember it all happening anyhow. Mind you, I had filled my flask with Jack Daniels beforehand. And if that little lot hasn’t put you off going on any more digs, then don’t forget, the ‘potential’ list of excavations and stuff for 2008 is now available for your perusal over the forum…

Highly Recommended…for the good of your health

Before anybody starts, yes that it is my ugly mush, and no I can’t help the way I look (I’m descended from the first Earls of Derby who thoughtfully left me an inheritance of inbred features, arthritis and gallbladder problems but absolutely sod all in the way of their ill-gotten wealth…mind you, I’m at an advantage, because I’m on in the inside looking out and, besides, it’s a ‘trustworthy’ sort of face because, well…nobody has to worry about their girlfriends running off with me). However, you shouldn’t be looking at my unsightly mug. You ought to be looking at the book I’m holding.

It’s called ‘Archaeology: What it is, where it is, and how to do it’ by ‘Paul Wilkinson’. And no, it isn’t one of mine and Michelle’s…and Paul Wilkinson isn’t even a mate of ours. So you might be wondering why we’re going to such lengths to promote it. Well, the truth is, not all the members of Wyre Archaeology are fully conversant with excavation and recording techniques…and that’s putting it mildly. When it comes to identifying the composite values of stratigraphic layers, using the universally accepted symbols for subversive undercuts or filling in context sheets correctly, quick frankly, most of you are completely useless. And, let’s face it, that sort of ignorance makes us archaeological geniuses that are saddled with the rest of you look less than the expert and professional people what we are.
Therefore, the committee have decided in their infinite wisdom (and quite rightly too) that it’s about time you lot found out how to conduct yourselves in the field. And because the techniques vary slightly from society to society, we thought it was also time to standardise the approach…at least within our own immediate circle.
There are currently three copies of the above book (which basically gives you as much information as you need to get started and hold your own with those in the know) available from the Wyre Archaeology library. And most of the committee have bought copies of it as well. But, as you’ve probably gathered, this is nowhere near enough to deal with our ever-growing membership…and besides, books like this take time to thoroughly digest and cogitate upon. So we’re recommending that everyone who’s already a member of, or intends to join, Wyre Archaeology buys, studies and absorbs their own copy of this relatively slim volume, in an attempt to avoid digging through important sediments, misdiagnosing small finds and generally incurring the wrath of Ken Emery and Gary Thornton.
Does that sound fair enough? Right…here’s the address where you can pick up a copy online:
Follow this link now!
It’s less that a tenner to buy, and it could save you from a severe beating later on. On the other hand, if you don’t have a Pay Pal or Credit Card account you could always have a word with Gary Thornton at the next Wyre Archaeology meeting and he’ll gladly order a copy for you. But make sure you do, because it’s in your own interests to swat up in advance of the digging season.
’Nuff said. However, before I sign off until Friday, I just wanted to add the following addendum to the posting below, sent to us, as always by the ever-resourceful Phil. This is actual stock-footage of John Lester’s midgets; a rare insight into exactly what it was that drove the Victorians and Edwardians mad with desire for the mischievous little buggers. (To be honest, I’ve watched the footage myself, and now I’m even more perplexed as to what the obsession was…but we’ll let the rest of you make up your own minds.)

More Bad News…

I’m starting to dread Saturday mornings. Not that this morning started out particularly badly…our jaunt around the historic haunts of Stanah with Martyn King was very entertaining, even if I did stick my boot down a pothole and twist my ankle. No, unfortunately the bad news turned up with a telephone call from James Parr shortly after we’d arrived home. Neil Thompson, my old sparring partner and chairman of Wyre Archaeology, has been diagnosed with a brain tumour and is seriously ill in hospital in Lancaster. Neil and I, as anyone who’s ever attended one of the more controversial Wyre Archaeology meetings, or been in the Fylde Country Life Museum on a hot afternoon, or on an excavation when tempers are rising, will be aware, have always argued like cat and dog. We have considerably different approaches to archaeology and all matters antiquarian; differences that more often than not result in…shall we say…lively debate? For all that, however, such arguments were always confined to the academic cupboard. We’ve been friends for a long time, and outside the minutiae of record keeping and archaeological interpretation, have always shared the same objective, to keep our history alive and kicking. This latest news, following so close on the heels of Headlie’s untimely death, has come as another unpleasant shock, both to Michelle and myself and, no doubt, to Wyre Archaeology as a going concern.

That’s why we’re returning to the fold at the next meeting, to show solidarity in these dark hours. George Birchall (vice chairman) will be presiding over the events (we’re sure that George’ll make a good temporary boss) and Peter Iles (the Lancashire County Archaeologist) has agreed to attend to discuss funding, excavations, procurement of professionals and the future of Bourne Hill…although not necessarily in that order. The meeting will take place, as usual, in the café at Wyrefield Farm on the third Wednesday of the month (that’s the 21^st of November…we think) at 7.00 p.m. It’s important for as many members, and would-be members, to attend as possible.

In the meantime, here’s hoping that Neil makes a full and speedy recovery.

Fleetwood Tram Sunday 2007

We warned/threatened our readers a couple of days ago that we might have a third posting this week...and here it is. (Our generosity/cruelty knows no bounds.) Last Sunday (June fifteenth) was, of course, the annual Fleetwood Tram Festival, otherwise known as the Transport Festival...the closest that the locals ever come to holding an event covering the history of our district. So Michelle and I, naturally, went along to capture the thrills, spills and excitement in all of its glorious technicolor. The results, as can seen in the extremely short video linked to below, were less than spectacular...for reasons that will become self-evident if you manage to see it through to the end. Nonetheless, we decided to post it anyway.

http://video.google.co.uk/videoplay?docid=3313952908874180483

Back to the usual antiquarian stuff on Friday...

A Public Apology…

Okay…an extra, albeit short, posting this week (there might be another on Wednesday yet if you’re really unlucky) because I seem to have caused a bit of trouble by opening my big mouth without checking the facts first (or to put it another way, without consulting Michelle).
Several weeks ago, when I posted the first of the ‘Most Haunted at Mains Hall’ video clips I incorrectly stated that Mains Hall was actually in the Wyre. To be honest I thought it was. However, as it transpires, Mains Hall is, in fact, within the Fylde.
The Fylde and Wyre boundaries around Little Singleton get a bit confusing to say the least but, as the map below clearly demonstrates (just click on the thumbnail for the larger version), at Skippool the boundary moves into the Wyre, follows it for a distance, and then remerges on the south bank at Great Eccleston.

(You watch...I'll get into trouble for breach of copyright with Ordnance Survey now)
So, I owe an apology both to Adele at Mains Hall and Dorothy of Singleton (who quoted what I'd written over at the BBC website in a recent argument about the aforementioned boundaries) and I sincerely hope that there hasn’t been too much blood shed.

Again, many apologies…I shall be consulting Michelle a bit more before I post these things in future.

Brian (hangs head in shame and shuffles off quietly) Hughes.

Re-introducing the Forum...

Okay...apologies to anyone who's been attempting to access our new 'Fylde and Wyre Antiquarian' forum only to discover that they can't post a new topic or even respond to an old one. (You can blame the jargon-using, pimple-faced computer nerds who throw these things together for all the hassle.)

After a great deal of coffee, an even greater deal of swearing and cussing and thumping of the computer, I think that I've finally adjusted the forum settings so that unregistered users can now drop by and leave whatever comments and additions to discussions that they want without any further complications.

So, having probably blown our chances of ever getting people to interact with us again, if you're still interested in our latest (and, so far, most annoying) innovation, just click on the following link:

http://fyldeantiquarian.freeforums.org/

Incidentally, when it asks you for a username, just type in whatever you want (so long as isn't obscene). You really don't have to register with the forum to use it now. And there's an explanation about to how to post pictures to the site in the 'General Discussions' box.

Again...apologies for the teething troubles. And if you're still experiencing problems, please feel free to send a virus to the programmers.

Addendum: Unfortunately...for the time being at least, the forum is now closed. Blame the spammers for that...well, them and the general lack of interest I suppose.

Fleetwood Floods

Something a bit different this week. Anyone who knows anything about the history of the Wyre (well the Victorian/Edwardian history at any rate) will know about the Great Flood in which Fleetwood (of all places) was completely swamped. There are still marks etched into the wall of the Strawberry Gardens to this day indicating how high the water levels reached. We've all seen the photographs, but how many of us have seen actual film footage?

Again...it might be best if you have Broadband for this, but click on the link below and a little piece of Wyre's history (rather blurred and without sound, admittedly) will open up:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8mJpFHS0jYg

If that wasn't enough, then here's an old photograph of the same event. (These overturned caravans appear on the film as well...obviously they made what was considered to be an interesting/artistic image.) For a larger version of this image just click on the thumnail.

Museum Quiz: One

It’s time for something a bit different we reckon. How about a quiz? All of the objects shown in this posting can be found (along with thousands of others) in the Fylde Country Life Museum (there’s a link on this board if you’re interested).
The rules of our quiz are simple…just study the illustrations for a few moments, see if you can work out what the objects were originally used for and then check your answers with those below.
Obviously there are no prizes for doing this, but it might make a change from those mind-numbingly dull weekday repeats of ‘Murder She Wrote’ and ‘Quincy’:

Okay, let’s see how you did.

1. The earliest and simplest form of mole trap, known as the ‘Barrel’. Not only were moles a nuisance but their skins could be used in the manufacture of ‘Mole Skin’ coats.
2. A Neolithic flint axe discovered at Bradshaw Lane, Pilling. Originally this simple but effective tool would have been used by our ancient ancestors to chop down trees, skin animals and so forth.
3. A Warreners' spade was a particularly nasty object…especially if you happened to be a rabbit. Rabbits were introduced into Britain by the Normans (actually there's some dispute about this and archaeologists nowadays are leaning towards the Romans...but that's another story) and farmed for their meat and pelts. The spade itself was used to dig into the burrows thus flushing the rabbits into a carefully pegged out ‘purse net’. Those rabbits unwilling to flea into were treated instead to the vicious hook on the other end of the spade, which was inserted into the burrow mouth and, consequently, the rabbit as well.
4. Dolly sticks came in several varieties but were all, essentially, used in conjunction with Dolly tubs. They were operated, as you’d expect, by hand, thrashing the water in the weekly wash was stewing into a frenzy in order to release as much of the ground in grime as was humanly possible.
5. This device, known as a ‘Peat Drill’, was designed for gardeners so that they create their own seed plugs. The one in the illustration was made in the 1920s from aluminium. In order to use it, peat would be placed in the hexagonal tube at the bottom, then the upper section would then be lowered, forcing the soil into compact, pot-shaped plugs suitable for seeds.

(So what do you think? Want another short quiz at some point? Or should we consign this idea to the dustbin? Let us know by clicking on the comments box below. Go on...we won't bite you...well, not unless we're really hungry.)

Outside the Wyre: Stone Faces

Editor's note: The following article was written and posted by John Steventon, an old friend and cartooning colleague of ours from New Jersey. New Jersey, we realise, is a long way from the Wyre, but John has shown more interest in our local history and archaeology over the years than most people I meet on a daily basis. So, here's to his first posting and let's hope there'll be many more.



There are some convinced of 'new discoveries' concerning Stonehenge, Avebury, and other of Britain's ancient megalithic monuments. They claim that ancient peoples have carved faces onto the stones of these monuments, and one of these has even made BBC news.

Now, as an artist, I am all too familiar with the brain's ability to seek patterns amongst chaos. This is the way the brain develops, and the human face is the first of these patterns that we learn, as our parents lean over us to offer comfort. As a child I often lost hours of sleep because of the imagined faces I saw everywhere, particularly in my bedroom curtains.

With this in mind, the subject is one worth investigating, although with the proper amount of skepticism.

At this website , you can see examples of these alleged faces at Stonehenge and Avebury. I am not at all convinced of the validity of the faces on the Avebury stones, but the one at Stonehenge does kind of look like other examples of ancient carved faces, and remind one of the most famous of these, the faces of Easter Island.

I have been to Stonehenge on several occasions now, and on my last visit went looking for these ancient faces, and yes, I actually discovered a new one!



Looking at this image, you can clearly see the brows, the eyes, nose, mouth, and even an ear. The light happened to be just right to cast these features in relief, and indeed, this is an argument as to why these faces haven't been noticed before. There are also the more widely known carvings of ancient daggers on one of the stones, which again was not noticed until recent times. The light needs to be jsut right for these carvings to stand out.

So, does my own mind convince me that these carvings are valid, and ancient?

I am not sure. Certainly I see the faces, but are they deliberate, or just the mind creating order from chaos, 'seeing' what isn't there?

The stones of Stonehenge, unlike those of Avebury, were supposedly smooth and polished at the monument's original creation, which would mean the faces, if valid, where placed later. Unfortunately, it is very difficult to date a carving exactly. Perhaps there are those who study material science who could give an estimate, due to weathering, of a carvings date?

There is also the crudeness of the carvings to consider. Why aren't the features more defined and deliberate? We know the ancient peoples of the area were craftsmen, so it stands to reason that they would be more deliberate in their work.

The above mentioned website offers as proof the fact that the faces at Avebury are facing important sunrises, making their placement, at least, deliberate. A good observation, and worthy of consideration.


So, what do YOU think? Has anyone else observed anything similar to these faces? Could they be deliberate creations to enhance these ancient monuments, or might they be the graffiti of later visitors who felt the need to contribute to these wonders? Or perhaps a wandering artist left his or her touch for us later generations to consider?

Or maybe it's just a trick of the light, and an active imagination?

Either way, it's amazing the power these ancient wonders can hold over us, and I heartily encourage anyone to take the time to visit these places. Being there in person is such an experience that mere photographs just cannot capture. When standing on the windy Salisbury plains, you can almost feel something special in the air, and it is no wonder at all why these ancient peoples chose to build Stonehenge where they did, on a stretch of land that has remained unchanged for thousands of years.

Let us know what you think. Cheers, John Steventon


PS Thank you to Brian and Michelle for allowing me to post at this site!