FIG. 22. A cross-section of the ditches at Fussell’s Lodge (P. Ashbee’s section CD), roughly 15 m from the wide end and 25 m from the narrow. Note that the revetting posts have one third showing and two-thirds buried—a sound constructional principle.
Again it is necessary to consider viewing at right angles to near (qualified as explained) and far edges. In both cases the stars would have been the same. At an altitude of no less than 20.4° a perfect fit for the first alternative is produced, with Arcturus at declination 54.89° and Betelgeuse at –14.36°. The required year is 4240 BC—complementing in an unexpected but very welcome way the date (for the foundation barrow) previously obtained by averaging over individual (and different) stars, that is to say, 4235 BC.
Taking the second alternative, the altitude increases to 23.64° and the year is 4180 BC. In all cases small errors in the fundamental directions can alter appreciably the dates derived. (An idea of how sensitive the method is to error in the directions of key edges will be given briefly in a later section.) This alternative fits marginally more comfortably with the radiocarbon dates for material from the D-post pit (4250–3950 BC), but the first is to be preferred if Wayland’s style is to be followed. Far more important than those dates, however, is the fact that procedures derived from a study of Wayland’s Smithy can explain this monument equally well.
Was there a viewing ditch for the mortuary house? The palisade trench for the later barrow would not have served, for it would have been much too cramped, but short sections of the ditches known from the final barrow would have served very well. These ditches were relatively cavernous in the necessary region, reaching a depth of about 3.6 m below the base of the mortuary house. This great depth, slightly more than twice human height, might at first seem to be an insuperable objection to the idea that viewing was from them, but in fact the ground chalk is cut away, especially on the inside edge. The excavator, P. Ashbee, interpreted this as a weathering ramp, and no doubt some weathering has taken place—although presumably fairly uniformly. The angle of this ramp, however, is suspiciously close to what we require it to be, and not only in one section but in all seven places where Ashbee’s profiles allow us to measure it. To both sides of the house, an adult observer of normal height standing at the back of the true floor of the ditches—almost symmetrically now—would have been perfectly placed to look along a line barely skimming the ground at between 16° and 19°. The angles are not easy to measure accurately, but rejecting Ashbee’s section K (which lacks the flatness of the chamfer of the others, but certainly produces something in excess of 14°), the other six range from 16° to 19° and average at about 17.5°. This might not seem particularly close to 20.4°, but that is hardly surprising, for in its present form it does not belong to the mortuary house phase at all. It is a figure germane to the final barrow phase, and as we shall see shortly this figure is within a degree of what is predicted—again very welcome evidence in favour of the general principles being proposed.
The implied height of the ridge of the mortuary house is 2.45 m, almost identical to the height of the final barrow at this point, as estimated by Ashbee—although the loaf shape he favoured for the final barrow does not fit with the ideas being put forward here. Accepting the idea of two distinct phases, with the cairn an intermediary, building around the old house was just as rooted in tradition as at Wayland’s Smithy. Again, the form derived for the roof of the old mortuary house very probably resembled the flared form of the later barrow, for which there is the evidence of the palisade trench. It is conceivable, however, that the roof had a simpler form into which the gradients for the two different directions were nevertheless worked. The two alternatives are illustrated in Fig. 20. The fact that the pit between the split trunks is somewhat east of centre seems to favour the flared alternative, for if the pit was meant for another short trunk supporting the roof, it would have been appropriate to place it at the centre of gravity of the roof. It is in fact placed precisely where one would judge the centre of gravity of the flared, barrow-shaped, roof to have been.
At Wayland’s, we worked back from the later to the earlier. At Fussell’s Lodge, we now know something of the local tradition, and also the directions of the bounding lines of the barrow across which viewing at right angles would have been planned. The outline of the later structure has been corrupted to some extent through the collapse of parts of the palisade trench, but averaging across sizeable lengths, the lines of sight seem to have been at 16.2° west of north and 23.3° east of south. From those data, using the same sort of argument as before, the conclusion is drawn that the date of the barrow was around 4180 BC and that viewing was at an altitude of 18.1°. The same star, Arcturus, was observed setting, but now the rising Bellatrix rather than Betelgeuse seems to have been observed. (The stars now observed were at declinations 54.63° and –17.83° respectively.) Even if viewing was at right angles to far edges, the same stars produce the only acceptable solution, with the altitude 20.23° and the year 4082 BC.
The lower angle seems preferable, as already explained. Other options might be thought relevant, for it does seem that the Fussell’s Lodge barrow has certain right angles deliberately built into it. (Fig. 21 shows three, and the Wayland’s barrow is added, to scale, as a reminder of the arrangement there.) If, instead of viewing across lines a and d, lines b and c were taken, the (equal) altitudes of the same stars Arcturus and Bellatrix would have been about 16.0° and the year approximately 4140 BC. If planning was based on b and d, then the angle was 17.1° and the year 3960 BC. The differences are not as great as one might have imagined, and simplicity favours the original choice.
In appearance, with viewing at such relatively steep viewing angles (see Fig. 22), the barrow must have resembled an upturned boat. It is conceivable that there was chalk outside the revetting posts of the barrow, so that only the tops of them were visible. In this case, the whole thing would at first have taken on the appearance of an isolated giant white wave in the landscape. If duly trimmed as the stars changed their declinations, and regularly scoured to prevent vegetation settling on it, this form could have been kept for decades. The revetting posts would have rotted, perhaps within a century, but the downward wash of the cover might have been repaired even for several centuries. Of course it could be that alignment on stars was merely a foundation activity, regarded as done once and for all, and that the stars were not observed over the barrows thereafter, or were observed for only a few years. Perhaps, in time, closer attention to ditches will produce the much-needed evidence—the burning of lamps on the walls, the tread of feet on the floor and on sloping platforms, provision for drainage inside and on the lip, scouring tools on the ditch bottom with unexpectedly late radiocarbon dates, and so forth.
It has been shown by experiment that weathering of the surroundings of a ditch can cause it to fill in five or ten years, and it has usually been taken for granted that the ditches of a long barrow filled up quickly in this way, soon after its completion, since it has been assumed that the only purpose of the ditches was to provide raw material for the barrows. If the barrows were used as suggested here, however, and not merely in a foundation activity, then they would have been regularly cleared of rubble, baled out, and possibly even recut from time to time, to accommodate changing star positions. They might even have been given penthouse roofs to keep them dry, and so have weathered much more slowly than if they had been exposed. This last is a purely speculative remark, in the absence of any remains; but such roofs would have been as nothing by comparison with those often postulated for circles like the Sanctuary and Woodhenge, which would make them into prehistoric equivalents of St Paul’s Cathedral. And needless to say, the bigger the roof postulated, the more surprising that no traces of its fallen timbers have been found.