Archaeology (3) How It Will Be Done

Back to Greenwich archaeology today, folks. I guess one positive thing coming out of the turmoil surrounding the area just now means that we're getting more opportunities for excavation than we've had since the end of WWII - though of course, at the end of the war, people were more interested in just getting somewhere to live, somewhere to work and something to eat than finding out what previous Greenwichians had been up to.

How we deal with those opportunities is both exciting and a grave responsibility.

As you've probably guessed from the photo at the top, I'm back to the Stockwell Street site today, as I've been given a preview copy of of the Historical Summary by Alan Baxter & Associates that the work will be based on.

The photo (by Alan Baxter & Associates - as are all the drawings) was taken from the roof of St Alfege's and is one of the best views I've seen of the site - an area that's quite hard to get one's head around without plans. It's actually pretty damn huge and when the post-war buildings are gone it will be even bigger.

Much of the report itself contains basic history that we've covered many times before, so I'll cut to the bits I didn't know myself.

Something that amused me was that after going of for several hundred words about the seriousness of Greenwich as a historical site, the report suddenly changes tack right at the end of page five to robustly state that however important the rest of Greenwich might be, this little bit of the town "has not played a role in the significant aspects of Greenwich's history". Read: "Potential busybodies - object everywhere else but here, okay..."

Personally, if I were going to deter potential objectors, I'd point to the amount of disruption and damage already done on the site and suggest that it can't get much worse - that we might as well find out what's there and preserve what we can, then move on.
Dunno about you but I'd always assumed that the name Stockwell came from it being the town's water supplies - the Stock Well. Apparently that's just plain wrong - 'stoc' is Anglo-Saxon for tree trunk or post.

However much the report says that it played no significant role, Stockwell Street was part of the major east-west route through the town by medieval times, and at some point became known as The Broadway. It had two coaching inns - as well as the Spread Eagle there was also The White Hart and, (especially interesting to the Phantom Brewmaster, Rod) there were considerable maltings set behind, run by Frederick John Corder and Alfred Conyers Haycroft, but acquired around 1906 by Hugh Bairds &; Sons.

I get the feeling that the archaeologists are hoping to find some remains of those, though they haven't actually said yet. They've promised to let me know.

You'll see in Alan Baxter's next drawing, a charming tea garden (it's on a map of 1885), presumably for all the teetotallers from the Bible Christian Chapel that was also there. I've been looking to find something about the chapel and not found any mention in my 1901 copy of Life and Labour in London, which lists and describes (often in less than glowing terms) the funny little churches that dotted Victorian Greenwich like a holy rash, though Charles Booth does admit that that particular area of the town was "overdone with religious effort."

There was also a roasting house in 1894. Roasting what? Hops? Coffee? Chickens? I'm sure someone will tell me. It's possible they'll find some remains of that.

The first big thing that really affected the area, which will have got rid of most of the medieval remains, was the coming of the railways - with the extension of the London to Greenwich railway in 1878 and the ill-fated Greenwich Park Railway, which I really must write about sometime (I confess I'm a bit scared of doing so - there are so many rivet-counter railway enthusiasts who'd point out all the bits I'd most certainly get wrong.) Suffice to say that some bright spark thought that what Greenwich really needed was a line between the town and, er, Nunhead. Perhaps the cemetery was a big draw (it is now, btw, absolutely fantastic...), perhaps it was just that railways were THE thing to do and that bit of land was free.

It lasted until WWI, and bits of the station hung around as a timber yard until the 60s (and, of course, there is a small part of the line still in existence, as the delightful and much sought-after Prior St allotments.)

Nevertheless, Stockwell Street was still essentially cute. Here's a picture from Greenwich Heritage Centre, showing the street in the 1930s:

If there was one single thing that really did for Stockwell Street as a site, it was the Second World War. Alan Baxter's drawing shows exactly where it suffered a direct hit:
It's unlikely that the Nazis were actually aiming for the Stockwell Engineering Company - a little factory that was making radar parts at the time, which after the war made kitchen utensils known as Westware (anyone still got any?); more that they were aiming for the railway, or, even nothing at all, just dumping-off bombs, a favourite South London hobby of theirs.

There wasn't much coming back from a V2 rocket. The Post Office was completely obliterated but the maltings, and several houses, both on Stockwell St and King William Walk were badly damaged.

As a by-product, though, it did mean that, when the ghastly John Humphries House was built in the 1960s, there was finally an excavation of the old well. Don't you just love this old picture, courtesy of Greenwich Heritage Centre, where they've discovered the (or at least AN) old well. The antiquarian John Stone, who first called for it, would have been in ecstasies - sadly The Phantom Webmaster discovered he died in the early 1930s.

I've asked if they'll be digging out the well again when JHH bites the dust; I don't know yet. But wouldn't it be great if Hengham Peng (named from the Irish Roisin Heneghan and American Shih-Fu Peng, BTW) incorporated the well into the foundations; perhaps with a glass floor, or visitable cellars, like the charnel house at Spitalfields?

Archaeology (2) How It COULD Be Done

It's an ill wind that blows no one any good, isn't it. Or in this case, ill rain. While the rest of us were cursing that bloomin' awful weather last August, over in a secret location in Greenwich Park, Rosie was getting rather excited.

The soil is so thin up on the hills there, that given a bit of footfall - or, in this case, rainfall, stuff starts to appear. Greenwich has been occupied at least since Roman times, probably before that, and you just never know when - or where - curiosities will turn up. In this case, it was a double line of what looks like medieval bricks.

Rosie started photographing them when she realised that these weren't just random - that they, along with hundreds of shards of broken tiles, formed a sort of zig-zag pattern and extended for about 50 feet. She's kindly sent me a few pictures - it's worth clicking on a couple of them to see a bit more closely.)

Now. At this point I confess I would have just assumed that it was already recorded and that "someone" had done proper excavations and all the history stuff. Happily, Rosie wasn't as complacent as I would have been (a lesson for us all.) She asked around, and realised that no experts she knew had any idea about it. She read whatever she could but found nothing mentioned. No map records anything at all there, and since the earliest plan is from 1676, it looks as though whatever was built there must be earlier (or too unimportant to be recorded, of course.)

Last week, a friend of hers suggested she ask an independent brick expert about the probable age of the shards. He said that in his judgement they are "in all probability Tudor." BTW I read the other day that Tudor bricks are so small because they used to be sold per brick, as opposed to per square yard. The smaller the bricks, the more you had to buy.

"It's been suggested that they might have come from the Tudor palace by the river after it was demolished," says Rosie, "but this didn't happen till after 1676 so is unlikely. It's odds on that we are looking at the remains of a Tudor structure of some kind, in which case it will be the only one in the Park - apart from some underground conduits."

If this is the case, it's extremely exciting stuff. I don't know where exactly the remains are - the site's already in a very fragile state and Rosie's keen not to have too much human (or equine) trampling with all the terrible weather we've been having. "Bits of tile are already getting kicked around so it needs some protection urgently," she says.

But if nothing's ever been found there before it just goes to show how historically fecund the park is - anything could turn up anywhere at any time.

So - what's going to happen to it? Well - you can probably imagine that there's nothing in the way of any cash to actually excavate the site, though English Heritage would like to see a community volunteer project supervised by a professional archaeologist to examine the site more closely, record it and then either cover it over or perhaps leave it fenced. It would then be available for proper excavation if/when the money became available.

That sounds like a plan to me - I'm pretty sure there are Phantomites out there who'd be interested in joining a project like that (especially if it was weekend-based, rather than weekday when so many people are at work...)

The Park is owned and managed by Royal Parks which are a sub-set of the DCMS but, perhaps surprisingly for such a very historic site, they have no-one specifically responsible for the archaeology as far as Rosie knows. English Heritage have no jurisdiction over it, their role is purely advisory. So - it seems that it's up to the new Greenwich Park Manager, Graham Dear, to use his discretion over what to do about this new site. Let's hope he does the right thing during his watch.

The obvious question is whether it's in immediate danger from the Olympic plans. "It's not on the route of the cross country as currently published," says Rosie, "so shouldn't be affected by the grass enhancement measures they plan to begin on as soon as they've got planning permission. There might be an issue over whether it should be surrounded by a spectator exclusion zone like the one promised for the Saxon barrows but that can wait until it's been decided how best to protect the site."

There's more, apparently, to be read about the find in next Sunday's Independent. What's really important to remember though, is that this isn't just a random event. Greenwich Park teems with history and we have no idea what's lying just under the surface. It's up to us, now, to make sure that there's something left for future generations to discover...

Archaeology (1) How It SHOULD Be Done

I'm excited today, folks. I've just heard that the University of Greenwich is to begin a proper archaeological excavation of the Stockwell Street site. After so much heartache last year with the death of the village market, at last something good is happening - something that has been hotly anticipated ever since John Stone called for a dig in his seminal 1914 lecture to the Greenwich Antiquarian Society.

The university is currently waiting for the bizarrely-monikered Heneghan Peng architects to come up with a plan for the new building - which, if it isn't truly innovative, exciting and architecturally meritorious, will not only be an embarrassment to Greenwich but a really bad advert for the Architectural School, so I'm holding out great hope.

But before they do anything that means getting out the buckets and spades, they're going to be doing some pretty exhaustive surveys -geological, ecological, and the one that interests me, archaeological.

Obviously, the current buildings will have to go. Though to lose some of 'scruffy Greenwich' tugs at my heart strings - for me over-smartening the area will lose its character - we really can't save everything. Besides, I'm desperate to know what's underneath...

So bye-bye to those grungily-fab warehouses, seedily secretive stores and the uber-groovy Bee Gee garage. I didn't know that was its name - I just thought it was an Esso job - but there it is in the 1976 pic below, courtesy, as above (from 1937) of Greenwich Heritage Centre. I'm not entirely sure what the little arrows are for.) Can't you just see Barry tossing his layered, golden curls around the collar of his grease-spotted designer overalls before offering you a fill-up, whilst Maurice gives your big end a quick polish and Robin sells you a Magic Tree? Oooh-er, Missus. Sorry. Saturday Morning Fever seems to have struck at Phantom Towers...

They're not sure if the old petrol tanks are still underneath the forecourt of the seventies supergroup's day job, but if necessary, an expert team will carry out the clean up.

I'm told that "in order to preserve the streetscape for as long as possible, two large blocks on the frontage of Stockwell Street, John Humphries House and the disused storage unit at number 18-19, will remain standing for the time being." Now, I have to say that John Humphries House has never really been part of the streetscape that I've ever thought worth preserving. If it was up to me, I'd rather look at hoardings than that ghastly, merit-free structure. I mean - it's not as if we're not used to hoardings round here at the moment.

Before they can start the fun bit of digging holes comes the boring stuff, like rubbish-clearing buildings surveys, sorting out services such as water, gas and electricity and detailed studies of the area (take one guess as to why the Phantom didn't become an archaeologist...) They've already done much of the really tedious stuff, apparently, and are very nearly ready to start the exciting test pits to look at the archaeology of the site, which has been in use since at least the medieval period. They tell me

"Initial research indicates that building work over the centuries, and war-time bombs, have destroyed evidence from early periods, but the university will pay special attention to what remains of the 19th century maltings, which once supplied ale to the Spread Eagle Tavern."

Coo-er. I've been promised a copy of the initial appraisal of the project, which will include some idea of what they think they might find, with some records of previous digs and some historical maps (they asked if I "might be interested?" Derrr!) They're also going to be keeping us updated of anything they find - so watch this space.

Caution - May Contain Fingernails...

They kept this one quiet, folks. A bizarre artefact dug up back in 2004 in Greenwich has turned out to be a 17th Century Witch Bottle - complete with its frankly unsavoury contents.

It's no magic lamp. You didn't rub it for a witch to pop out and grant your every wish; it was more an insurance policy against witches casting evil spells on you.

You got yourself a bottle - this one's a salt-glazed 9" job (which I'm informed is a Bellarmine jar - there's a splendid one in Greenwich Heritage Centre found near the Woolwich Ferry) with a flower and a jolly beardy face stamped into it (it's either The Green Man - or our very own Rod in a former life*) and filled it up with urine, to represent the witch's bladder.

Then you added a sprinkling of nails, pins, hair, fingernails - anything that would be seriously uncomfortable to said witch every time she needed a pee.

Recipe complete, you stoppered the whole lot up and gave it a good shake. The witch would be in such agony she'd reverse the spell. Bish-bosh...

As a final precuation, you buried it in the back garden.

Because Greenwich gets all the best finds, ours is the only one ever that's been found complete with its contents - yup, including that 17th Century wee-wee. Usually they're found empty - or whoever's unearthed them has taken one sniff and tipped the whole lot down the sink.

But when the Maritime Trust dug this up, they shook it and it splashed around, despite being sealed, so they did the right thing and sent it Alan Massey, who's an expert on such things.

The New Scientist's article tells me that he did some CT scans and X-rays,which revealed urine, bent nails, a nail-pierced leather 'heart,' fingernail clippings hair and belly-button fluff. What I want to know is how any one found enough of the latter to know it was naval fluff...


Interestingly, a sample of the 380 year-old urine, after being carefully syringed out (now there's a job...) showed that whoever supplied it was a smoker, and the nail clippings were manicured, so they were procured from someone who didn't have to work all day long...

And finally, slooshing around in that lot, was some brimstone, just in case the hell-fire, damnation and naval-fluff didn't work...

Blimey.

All this puts me in mind of a very strange (and little-known) character called Edward Lovett, who used to hang around these parts, collecting strange folkloric objects, many of which have ended up in the delightfully eccentric Cuming Museum and the equally-curious Wellcome Collection.

Which brings me rather neatly to an event this Sunday (7th) and the following Sunday (14th June, where Ross Macfarlane, who I heard speaking on this very subject a few weeks ago, will be conducting a Medical London Walk around Greenwich.

It's the one included in the very fine Medical London boxed set and, if the rain holds off, one that I can recommend wholeheartedly.

But I'm going off-topic. For my Londonist friends, I am on the case about exactly where the witch bottle was dug up. It's not as easy as it first looks - it was found by the Maritime Trust - who look after the Cutty Sark - and I can't see that they would have been digging 1.5 metres under the dry dock at that time. Or at all for that matter. Breaking seals on dry docks are generally not recommended...

However they were also responsible for the Gipsy Moth IV, which, if memory serves, left Greenwich in 2004. She was in dry dock too; I can't remember what happened to that, maybe it was demolished. More research is needed...

Update: I have now heard that it was discovered in a cellar and is in posession of the Greenwich Foundation. Just where that mystery cellar is, is still - well - a mystery...

Hopefully more will be revealed when I get my sweaty paws on the full report on ye olde witch bottle in the latest edition ofBritish Archaeology. And I've heard that the bottle itself will eventually go on show at the Naval College - in the new Discovery Centre, perhaps?

A tip of the tricorn to Roger for flagging this up...

*Just joshing there, folks. The Hairy One is supposed to be a German civic dignitary, sumbolising prosperity. The name 'Bellarmine' was a snigger at the unpopular Cardinal Bellarmine, partially because he persecuted Protestants, but mainly for his opposition to alcohol...

Dig This

Jane asks:

"There is a large area which has been demolished in Greenwich High Road between the abandoned pub and the petrol station near the corner of Blackheath Hill. Roughly opposite the’ Golden Chippy.’ Something very old has obviously been uncovered there as the foundations are visible and it looks like they have been carefully excavated. I would be very interested to know what this find is. I have asked people who live locally and have searched on the internet, but can’t find any information."

The Phantom replies:

The problem with finding up-to-date news about digs, especially where commercial construction firms have been obliged by law to bring in the archaeologists before they can actually build anything, is that the information is pretty sensitive stuff. They have to get the historians in, but they're hoping against hope that nothing of interest will be discovered - it's not only very, very expensive for them to do at all, but if something fab is found (as with the tide mill at Lovell's Wharf) then the building work can be held up for months - or even years - as the place is investigated.

In some cases, the find is so important that the entire design of the new place has to be changed - off the top of my head, I'm thinking about the extra thick glass panel that had to be built over the medieval charnel house at Spitalfields or, even more extreme, the entire layer-cake of new levels that had to be built under the Guildhall to envelop the Roman Amphitheatre. That one held up proceedings for years.

The last thing that companies want is for the public's imagination to be captured. So although digs have to be done, they starve them of any publicity they can - and I'm not entirely sure that the information isn't formally classified. Maybe someone can clarify that for me?

Certainly I can find no record whatsoever of any commercial digs at all in London that have been carried out in the past couple of years by the Museum of London Archaeological Service, though digs are clearly going on all over the shop. (The Olympic site at Stratford is a bit of a special case - in that instance, they're desperate for any good publicity they can get...)

So yes - I've been applying a spectral eye to the gaps in the gates at that site myself (I'm assuming it's part of the water works (?) but what it used to be is anyone's guess) but I have no idea what they've found. I always find the best people to ask are the actual workmen on sites like this. I generally prefer the Bob-the-Builder types than the real archaeologists - they're usually happy for an excuse to chat - but I've never seemed to be passing whenever there are people there to grill.

Maybe someone here knows what's being dug up - it's just possible local historians will have been involved and can give us some clues (if you fancy spilling some beans, guys, your anonymity will be preserved, as always...)

However, in the meantime, I have found an interesting site that you may enjoy while we're waiting to hear some news. It seems that after two years, official site reports are published by the Museum of London Archaeological Service; here is the list of Greenwich results.

Happy digging...