The books of the Cheshire author Alan Garner are steeped in foklore, mythology and archaeology. His great skill has been to create a tapestry of tales with a deep connection to the Cheshire landscape. Beginning with The Weirdstone of Brisingamen, published in 1960, most of Garner’s works are set within a few miles of Alderley Edge.
Although Garner’s world of wizards, elves, mara, svarts and morthbrood is fantastical the landscapes which they inhabit is all too real. Much of that landscape has been shaped by man and, as such, there is the firm weight of archaeology behind his books.
This talk will follow Dr James Wright’s attempt to walk the locations from Garner’s Weirdstone Trilogy (The Weirdstone of Brisingamen, The Moon of Gomrath and Boneland) with an especial focus on archaeological sites. It will include prehistoric burial mounds, ancient standing stones, mediaeval houses, Victorian copper mines and the seventeenth century farm which was the inspiration for Highmost Redmanhey. Interwoven within the presentation will be a consideration for Garner’s own published fieldwork and research within the world of archaeology.
The speaker, James Wright (Triskele Heritage), is an award winning buildings archaeologist and a self-confessed Alan Garner fan. He has two decades professional experience of ferreting around in people’s cellars, hunting through their attics and digging up their gardens. He hopes to find meaningful truths about how ordinary and extraordinary folk lived their lives in the mediaeval period. He is the author of the popular Mediaeval Mythbusting Blog. He runs The Weirdstone Walk website which seeks to track down every location mentioned in the Weirdstone Trilogy. Alan Garner himself has described the venture as: “the first to give the subject a proper treatment.”
This lecture is a collaborative event by Triskele Heritage and Chester Heritage Festival. It is crowdfunded through donation. It will be the debut of a new bespoke talk. There is no minimum donation so it is possible to contribute as little or as much as you want. Your donation is your ticket and you will be sent a link to access the event by Eventbrite.
All you need to do is register via Eventbrite and – when the time for the talk rolls around – grab your favourite beverage of choice, get comfy and enjoy.
The event will take place at 19:30 GMT+1 on Wednesday 28 June 2023 .
Over the course of a wet Bank Holiday weekend, I have seen lots of online requests, by owners of historic buildings, for help in dating their property. The pages of Your Old House and the Mediaeval and Tudor Period Buildings Group have been bursting with such queries. I’ve genuinely not seen so many similar threads since the early days of the first pandemic lockdown. It seems that the wet weather has forced people to spend an extended period trapped inside. There comes a point, after looking at the same four walls for a long while, where certain landowners start to think… “Just how old is my house and how can I find out?”
With the question posed on social media groups, an army of well-meaning folk are happy to offer cheerful advice on how to get the job done quickly. The same phrases keep popping up: “Look at some old maps!”, “Check the property deeds!” or “Go to your local record office!” In the three minutes that I have been typing this blog I’ve received eight alerts of such pieces of advice being posted.
Lancashire Archives (Credit: James Wright / Triskele Heritage)
Now, at a very basic level, this advice isn’t bad. Its baseline data. Its stuff that the professional historic building researcher will do. However, it will only take you so far. If the property is more than a few decades old, it is unlikely to give you the answer to that vital question: “How old is my house?”
I’m going to use this blog to try and (gently) explain why archival trawls rarely offer the solution to this specific query and how it is sometimes possible to get at the solution.
Here’s the TL, DR answer… For truly ancient properties the answer is twofold: 1) spend years training and gaining experience as a buildings archaeologist, or, 2) commission a buildings archaeologist to do the work for you. The latter will probably be quicker, cheaper and cause less stress, heartache, and career penury.
A Worrying Commission
During 2019, I received a commission from the landowner of a property in the very well-heeled village of Southwell, Nottinghamshire. They called me to discuss a project which had two basic research questions: 1) How old is my house? and, 2) Who was the architect? My stomach churned. I knew that I was going to have a very difficult conversation with my client. I needed to let them know that I could not guarantee to answer either question for definite, but in such a way that they wouldn’t immediately slam down the phone and try someone else who would promise the earth.
Southwell Minster, looking east (Credit: James Wright / Triskele Heritage)
Even though this house was not particularly ancient (a site recce told me that it was entirely eighteenth century or later) and it was a fairly posh building in a village with good documentary sources, I was concerned that it is still rare to be able to answer the posed questions. In the end, after months of exhaustive research, I was able to tell the landowner that the building might have been constructed during the period c 1762-74 and that it may have been designed by a local builder named Francis Ingleman. An equivocal response, but about as close as I could get given that no precise documentation existed – despite the building being only around 250 years in age. For anything much older the documents would probably not have existed.
Mapping the Maps
The key to the Southwell commission was historic mapping coupled with some family history. In 1780, a local antiquarian noted that a specific family had recently built the house and further analysis showed that one of their number had inherited wealth in 1762. The earliest map to show the house was made in 1774. The architecture, known history of the village’s development, family history and mapping seemed to triangulate on the period c 1762-74. However, I could not be certain and had to really argue the case.
The Southwell building went up during a relatively fortunate era – we were entering a golden age of map-making. Parliamentary acts led to the creation of hundreds of enclosure maps between c 1750 and c 1830 (Hey 1996, 153-54). This was followed by the creation tithe maps, largely made between 1836 and 1852 (Hey 1996, 439-40). Finally, the Ordnance Survey was established in 1841, although there are some limited military maps which precede this date (Hey 1996, 333-35). Despite this, many regions were not mapped by the OS until much later; Southwell included – the first map to cover the village did not arrive until 1885.
Map surveyors depicted on an eighteenth century enclosure map (Credit: James Wright / Triskele Heritage / Nottinghamshire Archives)
Earlier maps are variable. Some were made by commercial surveyors. For example, John Chapman’s 1774 map of Nottinghamshire; which first showed the house at Southwell (Henstock 2003). Others were estate maps made for private landowners – such as the Welbeck Atlas which was surveyed between 1629 and 1640 to represent 81 manors owned by William Cavendish, earl of Newcastle (Mastoris 2017). Such early modern maps are vanishingly rare and can only be consulted in exceptional circumstances.
Even when a structure was built, or remodelled, during the era of map-making reference to them will usually only give a date range. For example, historic maps of Greasley Castle Farm, Nottinghamshire, revealed that numerous brick buildings were added to a stone-built farmyard at some point between George Sanderson’s map, surveyed 1830-34, and the Ordnance Survey map, plotted 1877-78. However, archaeological survey was able to narrow this down to 1832 through reference to craftsperson graffiti (Wright 2022, 30).
Greasley Castle Farm, looking north (Credit: James Wright / Triskele Heritage)
For most properties, historic maps are useful but, if a structure was built before the mid-eighteenth century, they are unlikely to help with identifying the date of primary construction. The answers will lie in a period before accurate mapping and can only be accessed through analysis of archival records and buildings archaeology.
Title Deeds
The deeds which come with a property are often assumed to be a “sovereign specific” for dating a building. Surely, the owners of a property will have diligently maintained the records of the building stretching right back to its construction? This common fallacy may be related to the experience of ownership of relatively modern buildings. Historic deeds are often entirely missing as the 1925 Law of Property Act abolished the need to prove ownership beyond three decades. This means that, although some deeds (previously held by property solicitors) were deposited in local record offices, many were jettisoned.
There is also a widespread misconception about what information is contained within the deeds. Title deeds are legal documents which relate the transference property from one owner to another. ‘The deeds give information about vendors and purchasers, the agreed price, some description of the property, and (from 1840) a plan’ (Hey 1996, 127). Useful information to the social historian but, for the archaeologist, there is no indication of when buildings were initially constructed.
I am currently working with a historian to unpick data from a lengthy sequence of title deeds for a former public house in Essex. Astonishingly, the documents stretch back to the late seventeenth century. However, at no point do they ever discuss construction work of any kind. This is despite the abundance of evidence from the building’s archaeology that many structures were erected from the fifteenth to the twentieth century. It is a very ancient building, but the deeds are completely silent on the first two centuries of the property’s existence.
Essex Record Office (Credit: James Wright / Triskele Heritage)
Title deeds are useful in establishing the social history and transference of ownership, but they rarely offer up a solution to the date of construction. Once again, it is a combination of further archival research and buildings archaeology which have the potential to unlock the mystery.
Trawling the Archives
In 2011, whilst working for Museum of London Archaeology, I headed off to the Wellcome Collection to look up an early twentieth century property in Croxley Green, Hertfordshire. It transpired that the building had been commissioned by a famous surgeon and his diaries, held at the archive, revealed not only the date of construction but also the name of the architect. I cannot begin to articulate just how rare this find was. My client in Southwell would have jumped for joy. I had never hit such a goldmine before and have failed to do so since.
Assigning a specific construction period to a house, purely on archival evidence, is dependent on the survival of documents. This will be reliant on a set of fortunate circumstances which led to their retention and deposition within a public archive. The case at Croxley Green was unusual and preservation of the archive was only brought about by the fame of the surgeon coupled with the acquisitions policy of the repository.
It may come as a shock to learn that most buildings do not have any documentation available – and this includes some very famous structures. There has been a decided uncertainty about the construction date of the great tower at Warkworth Castle, Northumberland. Now in the care of English Heritage, the great tower of Percy family has been estimated to date from anywhere between the mid-fourteenth century and the early sixteenth century on architectural grounds (Johnson 2002, 101-04). This was the castle of one of the premier families in mediaeval England whose line are still the dukes of Northumberland to this day. Yet, crucially, there is not a shred of documentation surviving.
Warkworth Castle, looking north (Credit: James Wright / Triskele Heritage)
I have just written a journal article on the dating of Tattershall Castle, Lincolnshire. Here, some patchy building accounts from the mid-fifteenth century do survive (Simpson 1960). They span the years 1434-35, 1448-39, 1439-40 and 1445-46, but we do not know from them in exactly which years the project began and ended. Moreover, the famous brick great tower is mentioned only once (‘le dongeon’) – during the 1445-46 building season. Some commentators have taken this to mean that the tower was begun that season and can therefore be dated c 1445-1455 (Harvey 1978, 183). Others think that it is a bit earlier, perhaps c 1440-50 (Emery 2000, 310-11). New archaeological evidence, briefly covered in a prior Mediaeval Mythbusting Blog, has come to light which may indicate that construction work began during the second half the 1420s. However, without the science of dendrochronology the archival evidence traditionally put the tower two decades later.
Warkworth and Tattershall were major buildings created for the highest in the land. Yet neither has reliable documentation for their construction… what chance is there for more humble buildings to appear in the archives?
Tattershall Castle, looking south-west (Credit: James Wright / Triskele Heritage)
House Histories
The first part of any archaeological building survey report will usually be an outline of the known historic background. Sometimes the documents can genuinely take us right back to the moment of construction. At Greasley Castle, Nottinghamshire, a licence to crenellate was issued to Nicholas, 3rd Baron Cantelupe on 5 April 1340 by Edward III (Davis 2006-07, 239; Wright 2022, 10). This kind of data is momentously rare. On other projects the archival frustration is high!
A colleague and I recently discovered that there were only 23 documents pertaining to an entire Lancashire village… and none of them referred to the property that we were researching in any way. In most cases, the building in question will appear in the records but the earliest reference will be long after the primary construction took place. For example, records linked to a Worcestershire farmhouse, that I worked on in 2020, began in 1540 yet the archaeological evidence suggested that the building dated to the mid-fifteenth century.
Library at the Society of Antiquaries of London (Credit: James Wright / Triskele Heritage)
On some projects I will work alongside tremendously talented house history researchers such as Karen Averby, Gill Blanchard and Melanie Backe-Hansen to construct incredibly detailed social histories for properties. Their trade relies on unpicking a multitude of resources including architect’s plans, building accounts, references in personal papers (letters, diaries, financial papers etc.), newspaper articles, genealogies, valuations, inventories etc. We work well together because their great skills are in teasing out archival details that are perhaps beyond the abilities of this archaeologist. However, when the records cease before a construction date has been established, it may only be the discipline of buildings archaeology which can point towards a structure’s origins.
Buildings Archaeology
The field of buildings archaeology developed throughout the mid- to late-twentieth century. It is a multi-disciplinary technique which aims to deploy ‘all of the tools in the toolkit’ to understand the origin, form, function, fabric, history, significance, context, development, and phasing of historic structures. Projects can include archival research, oral history, structural observation, photography, drawings (sketches, measured sketches, and metrically accurate scaled drawings), photogrammetry, 3D laser scans and dendrochronology.
Buildings archaeology survey at Greasley Castle (Credit: James Wright / Triskele Heritage)
Buildings archaeology can be targeted towards structures of any period and type. In my career, I have recorded a twelfth century palace, thirteenth century church, fourteenth century castle, fifteenth century barn, sixteenth century house, seventeenth century farm, eighteenth century windmill, nineteenth century pumping station and a twentieth century hospital. When it comes to the dating of such structures, we have already looked in detail at the variables in a former Mediaeval Mythbusting Blog, in January 2023, but it must be noted that there are two broad methods: scientific and stylistic.
The science of dendrochronology was the subject of a Mediaeval Mythbusting Blog, in January 2022, which demonstrated that felling dates are a strong indicator for the period of construction. Tree-ring dating has proved invaluable to the better understanding of timber-framed buildings. For example, 22-24 Kirkgate, Newark (Nottinghamshire) was listed as being late fifteenth century, yet dendrochronology later provided a felling date of 1337. Elsewhere, 40 Westhorpe, Southwell (Nottinghamshire) was listed as seventeenth century, yet tree-ring data indicated a felling range of 1332-57 – a significant disparity of approximately 250-350 years.
Dendrochronology at Tattershall Castle, Lincolnshire (Credit: James Wright / Triskele Heritage)
Although dendrochronology has the potential to provide scientifically accurate felling ranges or dates, there may be cases when timbers fail to yield a date or it cannot be deployed due to limited project budgets. In these situations, buildings can be dated by stylistic methods which rely on a careful assessment of the development of a building and the recording of primary architectural features which are reliably datable. Such features may include in-situ doors, windows, fireplaces, panelling, staircases, and roofs. A good starter for looking at this subject is Linda Hall’s incredibly useful book: Period Fixtures & Fittings, 1300-1900 (Countryside Books, 2005). I take it to literally every single site with me.
Dating by stylistic methods will vary according to both time and place. For example, the presence of a crownpost roof in Yorkshire might be expected in the years c 1280-1450. Meanwhile, the same design appears in Essex at around the same time but was still in use until c 1570. In other circumstances, clasped side purlin roofs were constructed in Yorkshire from c 1325 whilst they did not become widespread in Essex until c 1525 (Walker 2011, 18, 24-26).
A recent project by Triskele Heritage at Ivy Cottage, Wollaton, Nottinghamshire, was able to refine the dating of the building using stylistic methods. Survey work demonstrated that the primary build was a combination of stone and timber-framing and that there was a queenpost roof structure that would be unlikely in the region prior to c 1550. The roof had then been ceiled during the seventeenth century through the insertion of a floor frame incorporating stylistically diagnostic scroll and notch chamfer stops on a bridging beam.
Ivy Cottage, Wollaton, Nottinghamshire. Looking west (Credit: James Wright / Triskele Heritage)
Buildings archaeology can usually triangulate the available evidence to provide a date to within half a century. This might sound like a wide margin of error but without unambiguous documentary and scientific evidence it is rare to be able to get much closer.
Conclusions
Please do not feel that I am denigrating the advice of others here. Checking the maps, deeds and archives is basic level stuff and all good research projects should incorporate such data. Equally, establishing a historic background for a property is an essential requirement for most detailed research projects. The work of social historians is to be greatly valued.
For more recent buildings historic research may be enough to establish a date of construction. However, archival research will only ever tell part of the story. Even relatively modern buildings will feature structural phases which have gone completely unrecorded.
To go back further in time – into the mediaeval and early modern periods – buildings archaeology may be the only option for understanding the date of a building. This is especially true for non-elite structures but, to the surprise of many, some buildings of the great can only be unlocked using buildings archaeology. However, the discipline can prove surprisingly illuminating when applied to buildings of any period.
References
Davis, P., 2006-7, ‘English Licences to Crenellate: 1199-1567’ in The Castle Studies Group Journal Vol. 20. Castle Studies Group. pp226-45.
Emery, A., 2000, Greater Medieval Houses of England and WalesVol. 2 East Anglia, Central England and Wales. Cambridge University Press. Cambridge.
Harvey, J., 1978, The Perpendicular Style. Batsford. London.
Henstock, A. (ed.), 2003, Chapman’s Map of Nottinghamshire, 1774. Nottinghamshire County Council. Nottingham.
Hey, D. (ed.), 1996, The Oxford Companion to Local and Family History. Oxford University Press. Oxford and New York.
Johnson, M., 2002, Behind the Castle Gate – From Medieval to Renaissance. Routledge. London and New York.
Mastoris, S., 2017, The Welbeck Atlas – William Senior’s Maps of the Estates of William Cavendish, Earl of Newcastle: 169-1640. Thoroton Society of Nottinghamshire. Nottingham.
Simpson, W. D., 1960, The Building Accounts of Tattershall Castle, 1434-72. Lincoln Record Society No. 55.
Stenning, D., ‘East Anglian Roofs: An Essex-centric View’ in Walker, J. (ed.) The English Medieval Roof: Crownpost to Kingpost. Essex Historic Buildings Group.
Walker, J., 2011, ‘Introduction and Overview’ in Walker, J. (ed.) The English Medieval Roof: Crownpost to Kingpost. Essex Historic Buildings Group.
James Wright (Triskele Heritage) is an award-winning buildings archaeologist who frequently writes and lectures on the subject of mediaeval building myths. He has two decades professional experience of ferreting around in people’s cellars, hunting through their attics and digging up their gardens. He hopes to find meaningful truths about how ordinary and extraordinary folk lived their lives in the mediaeval period.
