Context 161 - September 2019

64 C O N T E X T 1 6 1 : S E P T E M B E R 2 0 1 9 From the Preseli Mountains to Stonehenge I have been asked to be the author of this new column in Context . The intention is a feature about aspects of wider cultural heritage that conservationists might find interesting: art, architecture, history and so forth, topics which are important to me and, I hope, to you. This summer I stayed a few days on a farm just north of the Preseli Mountains in Pembrokeshire, not far from both the two sources of the ‘bluestones’ at Stonehenge. For avoidance of a common misapprehension, these are not the giant sandstone sarsen stones, but the smaller and perhaps earlier ones of maybe 2600 BCE. Being in the vicinity of the origins of one of Britain’s earliest historic ‘buildings’ naturally warranted the hour or so’s walk up the mountain to the outcrop at Carn Goedog to have a look, disturbing the residents: 11 ravens. In the absence of any written record, hypotheses about the origin of the bluestones are not in short supply.These can be categorised as three questions: whether the stones come from the Preseli Mountains; why; and how were they moved. It was HHThomas who, in the 1920s, first identified them as a form of Ordovician dolerite, volcanic intrusions into the sedimentary country rocks of south-westWales, and Carn Goedog as their primary source.This was confirmed by geochemical analysis in the 1990s. The ‘how’ question is perhaps the most evocative, but practical experiments as to how they might have been moved are somewhat encumbered with knowledge of modern science, technologies and equipment, and a lack of many generations of practice at lugging megaliths around the British countryside.The inconclusive success of some megalith- shifting re-enactments does not deter proponents of alternative transportation explanations, including glaciation and magic. Of the ‘why’ question, perhaps the bluestones already had significance. Some suggest they were pre-loved and came from a dismantled earlier monument nearer to Stonehenge, even though this does nothing to reduce the total travel distance. Others, modern proponents of the mystical qualities of crystalline substances, presume that their beliefs have always existed. For my own part, I favour the principle of William of Ockham that the preferred explanation is the simplest one, and that perhaps there is merit in looking at the three questions as a single issue. So stepping somewhat into the realm of Michael Flanders’s monologue (‘New Built-up Area’) of the sarcastic neolithic observer of the Stonehenge construction site, I offer you the following dialogue. Chair of the Stonehenge Development Committee: ‘I need 80 standing stones of three tonnes, plus or minus one tonne, delivered to site, undamaged, at the rate of one per month, starting next summer solstice.’ Contractor (after a sharp intake of breath through clenched teeth): ‘Right you are, guv, but I can tell you now you’re talking big money. Tell you what I can do. I’ve this mate out west who has loads of them lying around.That would save you the cost of digging them out of the ground, wouldn’t it, so you’d only have to pay for getting them here.’ Sure enough, there are potential megaliths at Carn Goedog which could be levered from the crag and be safely on the road in a day or two. The resilience of Preseli dolerite is amply demonstrated by the Pentre Ifan dolmen about two kilometres north-west of the source of a few of the bluestones at Craig Rhos-y-felin, which is roughly contemporary with the construction of Stonehenge. The 16-tonne capstone sits on three massive uprights, the points of which measure no more than a couple of square centimetres each. Later examples are the near-pristine condition of the carving on the 10th-century churchyard cross at Nevern, and the many substantial, ancient and repeatedly reused gate piers in this part ofWales.The strength of these stones is such that they would easily withstand being hauled 250 kilometres over pretty rough country. If our culturally sophisticated and resourceful neolithic forebears could lift the capstone at Pentre Ifan into position, I am quite sure that they were capable of moving the bluestones to Stonehenge – whether, in the words of Michael Flanders’s anachronistic and sneering commentator, ‘via the Chanctonbury ring road’ or otherwise. James Caird The Pentre Ifan dolmen, roughly contemporary with the construction of Stonehenge (Photo: Nilfanion, Wikimedia)