Degradation of Archaeological Remains

Degradation of Archaeological Remains
Degradation of archaeological
remains
D.J. Huisman (ed.)
Sdu Uitgevers b.v.

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Preface
To protect archaeological sites in situ, knowledge must be available about threats

and about possible mitigation strategies. Since the signing of the Malta conven-
tion, a large research effort worldwide has provided information on degradation
processes, burial environments, monitoring techniques and mitigation. This vol-
ume is the first to give such a complete overview over the available knowledge. It
is a product of the 2003 – 2008 Cultural Heritage Agency research program “deg-
radation of the archaeological soil archive”. I sincerely hope that it will find a
broad audience, and that it will be used extensively for the protection of our
archaeological heritage.
In 1992, the countries of the European Union signed a treaty in which they obliged
themselves to protect their archaeological heritage. The archaeological heritage
was indicated as “ a source of the European collective memory and as an instru-
ment for historical and scientific study”.
In this treaty, generally known as the Malta convention or the Valetta treaty, the
preferred option for preservation of archaeological sites is in situ, i.e. while still
buried in the soil. Only if in situ preservation is not feasible, the second-best
option is excavation or preservation ex situ (or: “by record”).
This treaty has changed the professional archaeological sector throughout Europe,
although the exact effect varies from country to country, depending on the way
the treaty has been implemented. In the Netherlands, for instance, there has been
a significant increase in the number of professional archaeologists, and a more
than ten-fold increase in the number of archaeological excavations (De Boer et al.
2009). This results from the obligation to properly excavate an archaeological site
if construction work, groundwork etc. would result in damage or destruction to
the archaeological record. Virtually all excavations nowadays are therefore paid
for by developers or other parties disturbing the archaeological soil archive.
Compared to the pre-Malta treaty situation, this means that considerably less
archaeology is destroyed unseen during building or groundwork activities. It is
unclear, however, how often the preferred option of the Malta treaty is followed,
i.e. preservation in situ of archaeological sites. Up till recently, the vast majority of
funding in archaeology was spent on the excavations threatened by building
activities, groundwork etc. For protection, in situ or ex situ, of sites that were
threatened through other events or conditions – including natural processes – lit-
tle or no funding was available. This is mainly because there is no party that can
be held accountable for the degradation of sites due to e.g. erosion, fluctuations
5
Preface
in groundwater tables, acidification etc. Also, at national level up till recently no

regular funding was available, even for listed or otherwise protected national
archaeological monuments.
As of 2009, changes for the good are coming. For the first time, funds will become
available from the ministry of education, culture and science in the Netherlands
for the in situ protection of archaeological sites. With the increased knowledge of
degradation processes and with the techniques for in situ preservation presented
in this book, the future for our archaeological record is looking increasingly bet-
ter.
dr. Ronald H.A. Plasterk

Minister of Education, Culture and Science
6 Degradation of archaeological remains

Content
Preface 5
1 Introduction 13
1.1 Preserving the archaeological record 13
1.2 Degradation is loss of information 15
1.3 How to use this book 16
2 Wood 17
D.J. Huisman & R.K.W.M. Klaassen
2.1 Material characteristics 17

2.2 Presence in the archaeological record 19
2.3 Archaeological information content 19
2.4 Transformation and degradation processes 20
2.4.1 Introduction 20
2.4.2 Fungal degradation 21
2.4.3 Bacterial degradation 22
2.4.4 Recognising microbial degradation 24
2.4.5 Degradation at underwater sites 27
2.5 Loss of information 27
2.6 Implications for in situ protection and monitoring of
archaeological sites 29
2.7 Handling wood during excavation 30
3 Bone 33
D.J. Huisman, R.C.G.M. Lauwerier, M.M.E. Jans,
A.G.F.M. Cuijpers, F.J. Laarman

3.2 Presence at archaeological sites 35
3.3 Archaeological information 36
3.3.2 Macroscopic level 37
3.3.3 Microscopic level 38
3.3.4 Molecular level 40
7
Content

3.4.2 Biological processes 41
3.4.3 Mechanical processes 44
3.4.4 Chemical processes 45
3.5 Loss of information as a result of degradation 47
3.5.2 Macroscopic information 47
3.5.3 Microscopic information 49
3.5.4 Molecular information 50
3.7 Handling bone during excavation 52
3.7.1 Recovering bone 52
3.7.2 Specific requirements for DNA analysis 53
4 Leather 55
D.J. Huisman, B.J.H. van Os, J. Nientker, L. Megens

4.1.1 The raw material 55
4.1.2 Processing skin to produce leather 56
4.1.3 Special situations 58
4.4.1 Degradation of leather in the soil 64
4.4.2 Chemical processes in archaeological leather 65
4.4.3 Special cases 65
4.4.4 Archaeological practice 66
4.7 Handling leather during excavation 68
5 Textile 71
D.J. Huisman, I. Joosten, J. Nientker

5.1.2 The structure and composition of fibres 71

Content
5.1.3 Flax 72
5.1.4 Hemp 73
5.1.5 Wool 73
5.1.6 Silk 74
5.1.7 Dyes 74
5.2.1 Use of various raw materials 75
5.2.2 Applications 77
5.4.2 Decay of fibres 83
5.4.3 Factors affecting degradation 83
5.7 Handling textiles during excavation 88
5.7.1 Risks 88
5.7.2 Strategy 89
6 Iron 91
D.J. Huisman

6.4.2 Oxygen-rich (oxic) environment 94
6.4.3 Anoxic (reduced), sulphate-rich environment 98
6.4.4 Anoxic (reduced), sulphate-poor environment 100
6.4.5 Special situations: galvanic processes and partial aeration 102
6.5.1 Loss 103
6.5.2 Gain 104
6.7 Handling iron during excavation 107
6.7.2 Keep it wet? 107
6.7.3 Look before you throw! 108
9
Content
6.7.4 No cleaning in the field 108

6.7.5 Proceed with caution 108
6.7.6 Puzzle 109
7 Copper and copper alloys 111

D.J. Huisman, I. Joosten

7.1.1 Copper 111
7.1.2 Bronze 111
7.1.3 Brass 111
7.1.4 Patina 111
7.4.2 Oxygen-rich (oxic) 116
7.4.3 Anoxic (reduced) 119
7.4.4 Special situations 120
7.5 Information loss as a result of degradation 120
7.6 Implications for in situ preservation and monitoring of
7.7 Handling copper during excavation 121
7.7.2 Metal detection 122
7.7.3 Keep it wet 122
7.7.5 More than the sum 123
8 Other metals (lead, tin, silver, gold) 125

B.J.H. van Os, D.J. Huisman, R. Meijers

8.1.1 Lead (Pb, Plumbum) 125
8.1.2 Tin (Sn, Stannum) 125
8.1.3 Silver (Ag, Argentum) 126
8.1.4 Gold (Au, Aurum) 126

Content
8.4.2 Degradation in the soil 131

8.7 Handling objects during excavation 135
8.7.2 Metal detection 135
8.7.3 Keep it wet 135
8.7.5 More than the sum 136
9 Glass 137
D.J. Huisman, I. Joosten, J.F.P. Kottman

9.4.1 The degradation process 139
9.4.2 Factors affecting degradation 141
9.7 Handling glass during excavation 146
10 Soil features 147

D.J. Huisman, J. Deeben
10.1 The concept of soil features 147

10.2 Formation processes in subsurface archaeology 151
10.3 Archaeological information from soil features 154
10.3.1 Soil features as a focus in excavations 154
10.3.2 Morphology and structure of soil features 157
10.3.3 Reconstruction of decayed objects 159
10.3.4 Dating 162
10.4.1 Types of degradation 164
10.4.2 Physical processes 164
10.4.3 Biotic processes 166
10.4.4 Chemical processes 168
11
Content

10.7 Handling soil features during excavation 174
10.7.2 Position of excavated surface 174
10.7.3 Raised layers and occupation layers 175
10.7.4 Finds at the top of invisible features 175
10.8 Conclusions 176
11 Preservation and monitoring of archaeological sites 177

D.J. Huisman, M. Vorenhout, A. Smit, B.J.H. van Os,
M. Manders
11.1 From degradation to in situ protection 177

11.2 The process of preservation 177
11.2.1 A series of steps 177
11.2.2 Evaluation and selection 179
11.2.3 The initial assessment 180
11.2.4 Initial assessment, baseline survey and subsequent
monitoring 183
11.2.5 Degradation factors and measuring techniques 184
11.3 Analysis of archaeological remains for monitoring
purposes 184
11.4 Characterisation of the burial environment 187
11.4.1 Approach 187
11.4.2 General conditions 188
11.4.3 pH and buffering 188
11.4.4 Freshwater and saltwater 190
11.4.5 Freshwater and saltwater; parameters 192
11.4.6 Freshwater and saltwater; applications 195
11.4.7 Active degradation processes 199
11.4.8 Introduction of test material 200
11.4.9 Using micromorphology 201
11.4.10 Underwater environments 209
11.5 Combined approach 210
11.6 Final comments 210
Acknowledgements 213
Literature 215
List of Authors 235

1 Introduction
1.1 Preserving the archaeological record
The archaeological record is the most invisible, intangible and hidden part of our
entire cultural heritage. The most visible parts of the archaeological record are
ruins, burial mounds and megalithic monuments, but they constitute only a tiny,
non-representative part of the record as a whole. Most of this (the subsurface
archaeological record) is buried in the soil, or submerged under water. The char-
acteristics of the archaeological record set it apart in several important ways from
other parts of our heritage, such as historic buildings, museum collections, librar-
ies and archives.
Firstly, the archaeological record is almost by definition unknown and hidden.
Archaeological sites consist of a range of anthropogenic objects (artefacts), bio-
logical remains (“ecofacts”) and geological materials (“geofacts”) in a context of
soil and landscape, which provide a potential source of information on how peo-
ple lived in the past. But as long as a site remains in its natural (buried) state, little
or no information from that site is actually available. This contrasts sharply with
historic buildings (which can be visited and studied), objects from museum col-
lections (which can be investigated), books from libraries (which can be read)
and archived material (which can be perused). Moreover, archaeological sites can
be studied only by destroying at least part of them. Only by excavating is it pos-
sible to actually observe the archaeological remains. However, excavating destroys
context – replacing it with an interpretation of the context in a site report – while
only a selection of artefacts, ecofacts and geofacts are recorded or preserved. A
comprehensive site excavation essentially reduces an archaeological site to a selec-
tion of objects and a record of interpretations. Therefore – in contrast to monu-
mental buildings, museum collections, libraries and archives – it is never possible
to study an excavated site, except through the interpretations of the original exca-
vators. This makes existing, unexcavated sites extremely valuable for present and
future archaeologists, since these are the only locations where new archaeological
questions can be properly researched, or where new techniques may be applied,
and new information obtained about people’s lives in the past.
Secondly, the state of preservation of archaeological sites and potential threats to
the archaeological record are almost as invisible as the in situ archaeology itself.
Some physical disruptions, caused by ploughing or earthworking for example,
can be identified from the surface. But the activity of other physical, biological
13
Preserving the archaeological record
and chemical processes that are detrimental to the buried archaeological record
cannot be established without some form of excavation. Again, this sets archaeol-
ogy apart from the built heritage, museum collections, libraries and archives,
which can be visually inspected on a regular basis, enabling degradation processes
to be identified and monitored or prevented. Until the late 1980s, this effect was
taken for granted by most archaeologists. Degradation processes in situ were seen
as relevant, but mostly for the purpose of finding and developing the best meth-
ods for conservation ex situ. However, this has now changed – at least in Europe.
In 1992, the countries of the European Union signed the ‘European Convention
on the Protection of the Archaeological Heritage’ (also known as the Treaty of
Valetta or the Malta Convention; Council of Europe 1992). One major impact of
this treaty has resulted from the obligation on developers, for example, to fund
archaeological rescue excavations if building projects are likely to disturb valuable
archaeological sites. In many countries this has triggered the development of a
market for commercial archaeological research, and a huge increase in the volume
of research being performed. One less well-known fact is that the Malta Conven-
tion obliges participating countries to undertake:
‘the creation of archaeological reserves, even where there are no visible remains on
the ground or under water, for the preservation of material evidence to be studied
by later generations’
and
‘to implement measures for the physical protection of the archaeological heritage,
making provisions (…) for the conservation and maintenance of the archaeologi-
cal heritage, preferably in situ’.
At least partly as a result of the Malta Convention, the in situ preservation of

archaeological sites became a high-profile issue in many countries. However, at
the same time, it became clear that we knew little about degradation processes
and their relationship with the burial environment, and that there were few suit-
able techniques for predicting and monitoring the state of preservation of archae-
ological remains. In the decade that followed, the challenge to provide knowledge,
data and techniques for in situ preservation was acknowledged (see, for example,
Pollard & Heron 1996; p. 345/346), sparking a wide range of activities. They
included fundamental and applied research projects, development of equipment,
best practice guidelines, pilot and demonstration monitoring projects and a series
of conferences (Preserving Archaeological Remains In Situ; PARIS; Corfield et al.
1996; Nixon 2004; Kars and Van Heeringen 2008). However, over 15 years since
the signing of the Malta Convention, there is still no complete overview of the

Introduction
latest knowledge of degradation processes, monitoring techniques and strategies

for in situ preservation. This book has been written with the aim of providing
such an overview. It is based on a series of papers (in Dutch) that were published
in the Praktijkboek Instandhouding Monumenten/Praktijkreeks Cultureel Erfgoed
series (Huisman 2005, Huisman & Klaassen 2005a, Huisman & Joosten 2006,
Huisman et al. 2006, Huisman et al. 2007 a,b , 2008, Van Os et al. 2008, Huisman
& Deeben 2009, Huisman et al. in prep).
1.2 Degradation is loss of information
The authors take the view approach that archaeological sites are most valuable to
our cultural heritage in terms of the information they contain about people’s lives
in the past. It is important to realise that this means that artefacts and other
remains are not important per se, but have value primarily as carriers of archaeo-
logical information. It also means that processes in the burial environment that
alter, transform or partially break down archaeological remains should be
regarded as degradation processes only if archaeological information is lost in the
process. Degradation processes should therefore always be studied from the view-
point of the (potential) loss of information. The same is true of the assessment,
monitoring and in situ preservation of archaeological sites.
Each of the following nine chapters (2-10) examines a type of archaeological
material (or group of materials). The materials have been chosen to represent
categories (1) that are sensitive to degradation processes on human time scales
and (2) that occur frequently in the archaeological record. This means, for exam-
ple, that apparently obvious materials like pottery, bricks, flint and other stone
have been excluded, since they are barely affected by degradation processes on
human time scales. Botanical remains have not been included either, since little is
known about processes of degradation affecting them. Until more research has
been done, the best approach may be to assume they behave similarly to wood.
Each of these nine chapters has the same basic outline. The first section describes
the characteristics of the material. In the second section, the material is placed in
an archaeological context by giving a short summary of its occurrence in the
archaeological record. The types of archaeological information that can be derived
from this type of material are then listed, taking as much account as possible of
recent developments in various branches of archaeometry and archaeological sci-
ence. The fourth section describes degradation and transformation processes that
can occur in the burial environment and the influence of various factors – mostly
related to burial conditions – on decay, transformation and degradation proc-
esses. The fifth section deals with the effects of these processes on the archaeo-
logical information. The sixth section describes the implications for in situ pres-
15
How to use this book
ervation and site monitoring techniques. We have also added a section on best
practice for handling the different materials during excavation. It is during the
transition from in situ hidden archaeology to ex situ collections that serious dam-
age and loss of information can occur. Only in chapter 10 (soil features was some
deviation from this general scheme deemed neccessary.
Chapter 11 gives an overview of approaches and methods for the assessment and
monitoring of protected archaeological sites in situ, with a particular focus on the
way in which various potential monitoring parameters correlate with each other
and with decay processes. This last section can therefore be regarded as the practi-
cal application of the information presented in the previous sections.
At first glance, there may seem to be an imbalance between the various chapters;
some – e.g. the chapters on metals – have only short texts on on the archaeological
context and information content (sections two and three) and have a relatively
extended degradation processes section (section five). In other chapters – e.g. tex-
tiles – the reverse is true. This is, however, largely a reflection of differences in the
characteristics of the various types of remains: some are heterogeneous in their
composition, or can contain a large number of different types of archaeological
materials, whereas others are more simple and homogeneous and contain only a
few types of information. In addition, some types of remains can degrade in
numerous different ways depending on the burial environment, whereas for others
the degradation pathway is more or less universal. Finally, there is simply much
more information available on the decay of some types of remains than others.
1.3 How to use this book
This book is intended to provide basic information for people concerned with the
preservation of archaeological sites in situ. Basic technical information is pre-
sented, as well as practical approaches. This book is suitable for use as course mate-
rial for students of archaeology, archaeological science and archaeological heritage
management. It can also be used as a basic source book for professionals engaged
in archaeological heritage management. It is intended as a tool for the setting up of
assessment and monitoring projects at archaeological sites, though it might also
prove useful to those applying or accounting for budgets for in situ preservation.
The book is based on papers that were originally written for a Dutch readership
only. Although we have updated the chapters for an international audience, there
is still a bias towards northwest European conditions, especially in terms of the
description of the archaeological record. The burial conditions described can be
regarded as typical of a temperate humid climate and alluvial soils. The processes
described are, however, just as relevant in most other parts of the world, the only
clear exception being arctic and desert environments.

2 Wood
D.J. Huisman & R.K.W.M. Klaassen
2.1 Material characteristics
Many perennial plants form wood in their stem and branches to make them rigid,
so that the leaves are better exposed to sunlight. We often overlook that fact that
small bushes – such as heather – also consist partly of wood. Large trees obviously
have a major wood component, like European oaks and the giant sequoias of
North America, which can grow to a height of 110 m. Besides giving them rigidity,
wood performs two other functions for plants: it stores water and nutrients for
bad times, and it transports water from the roots to the leaves. In the leaves, sugars
are produced from sunlight, water and carbon dioxide (CO2) absorbed from the
air. For this to happen, the stomata must be open, allowing water to evaporate.
Evaporation is one of the forces that keeps water rising from the soil in a continu-
ous column up to the leaf canopy. The suction effect created by evaporation is so
great on a sunny day, when large amounts of water have to be transported from
the roots to the leaves, that the circumference of a thick trunk can shrink by sev-
eral centimetres. The structure of wood can therefore be regarded as a pipe system
consisting of strong empty cells linked together.
The cell wall acquires its rigidity from its three components, whose function can
be illustrated by the components of concrete. Cellulose provides tensile strength,
comparable with the steel that reinforces concrete. It consists of long chains made
up of hundreds of linked sugar molecules. Since the cell wall is layered and the
cellulose fibrillae in one layer are oriented almost perpendicular to those in
another layer, it is quite strong. The second component is lignin, comparable with
the mortar in concrete. Lignin can withstand compression. The final component
is hemicellulose, which ensures a good bond between the cellulose and lignin.
Individual cell sizes in trees vary. In coniferous wood they can be several millime-
tres long and some 20 µm in diameter, while cells in hardwoods are no longer
than one millimetre, though they can be as much as 300 µm in diameter. To func-
tion as a water supply system, the cells have to be connected. They are therefore
linked by small holes 3-12 µm in diameter containing only a thin membrane. In
coniferous wood – which consists largely of one cell type – water passes from cell
to cell through these holes every 1-4 mm (figure 1A). Hardwoods contains several
types of cell, one to provide strength (fibres), one for storage (parenchyma) and
17
Material characteristics
A B
1A,B Cross-sections of coniferous wood and hardwood. A: Pine. The annual rings form due
to the fact that the cells have thicker walls during the summer, while cells with thinner walls
are formed at the beginning of the growing season. The large holes are not cells but gaps
in the tissue (resin channels). B: The large holes are the vessels that form in spring. The
smaller holes are the vessels that form in summer. They are surrounded by parenchyma
tissue. The radials (vertical lines at the top of the picture) also consist of parenchyma tissue.
The small cells with thick walls are the fibres. Photographs René Klaassen, SHR,
Wageningen.
one for water transport (vessels; Figure 1B). Vessel element cells are linked to
form vessels that can become very long – up to 10 m in oak, for example. There
are open holes across the entire diameter of the vessel element. In hardwood,
therefore, water is carried through vessels that vary in length from several centi-
metres to several metres.
Not all the wood in a tree is involved in the transportation of water. This occurs
only in the outermost part – the sapwood. In many trees, the sapwood is con-
verted to heartwood after a number of years. Fungicides can be deposited in this
process, making the heartwood darker in colour, and blocking the water transport
system. Not all types of wood form heartwood (beech and alder do not, for exam-
ple). In oak the heartwood is easy to spot as it is much darker than the sapwood.
It is also possible to see that the vessels have been sealed (by thyllae). A mature oak
usually has 15-25 sapwood rings. In Scots pine the orange heartwood contrasts
well with the yellow sapwood. The thickness of the sapwood in pine depends
strongly on age, with rapidly growing trees developing thick outer rings of sap-
wood, while slow growers have a thin sapwood layer. There is no colour difference
between heartwood and sapwood in Norway spruce. However, when it has just
been felled, it can clearly be seen that spruce, too, forms heartwood, which is
much drier than its sapwood.

Wood
2.2 Presence in the archaeological record
Humans have always used wood for a whole range of purposes, including fuel.
Since we are concerned primarily with wood, rather than charcoal, this use will
not be considered further here, however. Early hominids used wood to make tem-
porary shelters, and to make domestic objects and weapons. Wood continues to
be used in the manufacture of domestic objects (cooking equipment, tools) and
weapons to this very day. Other applications have also come along, however,
including construction material for houses, enclosures, facings, wells, embank-
ments and roads. Wood has also been used to make canoes and ships, and in art
(e.g. statues). The remains of trees and shrubs that have not been visibly worked
by humans are also found in an archaeological context. They provide a source of
information about ecology and landscape in the past.
2.3 Archaeological information content
Firstly, simply as objects wooden artefacts contain archaeological information.

Information about use and manufacture and the attendant level of technology in
society is the most obvious type of information we can derive from the external
appearance of wooden objects. The type of wood used gives us further informa-
tion about knowledge of the suitability of certain types for certain applications,
and about the availability of certain types of wood in the past. In the case of local
wood, this reflects the composition of forests and how they were managed (e.g.
Casparie 1982). Wood that came from further afield tells us how far trade routes
and economies extended (Vorst 2005, Visser 2006).
Archaeological wood also allows us to date objects and sites. One method is radio-
carbon or C14 dating, in which the cosmically formed radioactive isotope 14C is
measured in the carbon (C) content of the wood. This value is essentially constant
in fresh organic material, but reduces after the death of the tree as a result of
radioactive decay. Changes in the ratio of 14C to 12C allow us to date organic mate-
rial. Annual ring patterns in certain types of wood (including oak) can also pro-
vide a history of a particular tree. They can tell us when the tree was felled (to the
exact year) and where it came from. This method – known as dendrochronol-
ogy – uses the unique variations in the thickness of the annual rings that occur as
a result of climate variations as the tree grows (e.g. Jansma 1995, Sass-Klaassen et
al. 2008). It can be used to calibrate 14C dates.
Archaeological wood can also be used to reconstruct past climate conditions on
the basis of the ratio of the stable carbon isotopes 13C and 12C. This tells us about
the stress to which the trees were subjected, in times of drought, for example.
Plants prefer 12C to 13C and, if CO2 is in adequate supply, organic material will
19
Transformation and degradation processes
mainly contain 12C. During a drought, the stomata cannot remain open for long,
and the tree experiences a shortage of CO2. Any CO2 available will then be fixed in
the material in its entirety, including all the 13C. If a relatively large proportion of
13
C is found in wood, this is a measure of enhanced drought stress during growth.
This information can be very useful for climate researchers (Klaassen 2005 Poole
& van Bergen 2006).
2.4 Transformation and degradation processes
2.4.1 Introduction
The degradation of wood in the soil is almost always a biological process, caused
by various types of micro- and macroorganisms that live on and in the wood. In
temperate climates, fungi and bacteria are chiefly responsible for the decay of
wood in the soil. Other organisms such as wood-damaging insects are not consid-
ered here. The speed and pattern of degradation are determined to a large extent
by the availability of water and oxygen. Microorganisms are active only in moist
conditions, and most of the ones that damage wood need a lot of oxygen. This
means that only moist wood will be damaged by bacteria. For fungi, however, the
wood must not be too wet. If it is completely saturated with water, oxygen can
only be supplied in dissolved form, by means of diffusion. This process is much
slower than supply from the air. Too little oxygen is therefore available in water-
saturated wood for severe degradation by fungi to occur (figure 2).
Fungal damage is least likely to occur in wood with a moisture content well below
20%, or well above 80%. If the moisture content is between these two values, the
wood will be susceptible to fungal damage. Since fungal spores are everywhere,
wood will always be damaged in these conditions.
Soils containing archaeological wood can be categorised into five groups in terms
of microbiological degradation:
1. dry soils with poor water retention

2. wet soils with poor water retention
3. wet soils with good water retention
4. waterlogged soils with strong water circulation
5. waterlogged soils without strong water circulation
The hundreds of types of fungi that can decay wood cause three typical degrada-
tion patterns. The most aggressive are fungi that cause white rot and brown rot. If
too little oxygen is available for these types of fungi, soft rot fungi may become

Wood
2 Photograph of the
board of a Roman ship
at Leidsche Rijn (De
Meern 4) taken in the
field during an explora-
tory survey in 2003. The
wood at the bottom of
the photograph is still in
good condition
(degraded only by ero-
sion bacteria) because it
was permanently satu-
rated with water during
burial. The section at the
top of the photograph
has disappeared due to
desiccation; white and/
or brown rot have left
only a soil feature. In the
transitional zone, the
wood has been
damaged as it dried out
during excavation; this
part lay exposed at the
surface for several
weeks.
active. If oxygen levels are so low that even soft rot is not active, wood can still be
attacked by certain kinds of bacteria.
2.4.2 Fungal degradation

White and brown rot are the most aggressive types of wood-damaging fungi. If
there is sufficient air around the wood, as in soil type 1, fungi of this type will
become active. Brown rot mainly targets the cellulose in the cell wall, leaving the
lignin more or less unaffected. The wood becomes brown and brittle, and suffers
more loss of tensile strength than of compressive strength. Comparison with con-
crete can help illustrate the process (see above). The cellulose (which is white) can
be regarded as the steel reinforcement; if it disappears, only the brittle (brown)
21
mortar is left. White rot, which has a clear preference for deciduous wood, mainly
affects the lignin. The wood becomes whitish in colour (as the white cellulose
remains behind) and soft (only the reinforcement is left). It rapidly loses its ability
to withstand pressure, but loses its tensile strength more slowly.
If the soil is waterlogged but regularly dries out for extended periods, the water-
logged archaeological wood in the soil will regularly come into contact with the
air. Oxygen can penetrate the waterlogged wood only by diffusion, so it can only
enter the outer layer, and concentrations will remain low. So low, in fact, that
white and brown rot cannot occur. In soil type 2, there will be no more than low
oxygen concentrations in the wood, and in these conditions, only soft rot fungi
will be active. They mainly affect cellulose, causing degradation that strongly
resembles brown rot. First the wood becomes brittle, then it disintegrates. How-
ever, since this form of degradation occurs in waterlogged wood – and not in
drier conditions like brown rot – the affected wood becomes slimy. When soft rot
damaged wood dries out, the damage resembles brown rot.
In terms of the preservation of archaeological wood in the soil, however, it makes
little difference which type of fungus may be active, since all forms of fungal deg-
radation cause complete decay within a few years. No wood remains will be found
at archaeological sites where archaeological material regularly comes into contact
with the air. Differences in the rate of degradation are however important for the
protection of archaeological sites in situ. White and brown rot can be assumed to
decay wood completely within a few months (degradation velocity up to 100mm/
year), while soft rot will take several years (degradation velocity of 2-10 mm/
year). In soil type 3, there is a much lower chance that the soil will dry out than in
soil type 2, though wood is exposed to air occasionally in both types. It is known
that enhanced degradation is caused not only by the length of individual dry
periods, but by their frequency. No matter how short each dry period is, each new
one prompts further degradation.
2.4.3 Bacterial degradation

Since degradation by erosion bacteria proceeds much more slowly than white,
brown or soft rot (with a maximum degradation velocity of 1mm/year), wood
degrading bacteria occur only in conditions that are not conducive to fungal deg-
radation. In other words, in soils where little or no oxygen is available. In soil
types 4 and 5, wood never comes into contact with air, so there is no possibility of
fungal degradation. However, in conditions with little or no oxygen supply, wood
can still be damaged by bacteria. As with fungal degradation, there are probably
hundreds of types of bacteria that cause the three different patterns of degrada-
tion seen in wood (Blanchette 2000). In waterlogged soils, the ‘erosion pattern’ is
the most common (Nilsson & Klaassen 2008).

Wood
Degradation by erosion bacteria tends to predominantly affect the inner layer of

the cell wall. Serious degradation leaves only the inner and outer layer of the cell
walls, with some waste material in between. Wood subjected to serious bacterial
degradation looks almost unaffected when it is found in the soil. It is however
very soft. The wood can have a moisture content of up to 600% relative to its dry
matter content, which means almost no cell wall material remains. But the
remaining cell wall matrix, fills up with water and dissolved waste products, as it
were. This can also be seen in the loss of mass: the dry weight of healthy wood is
some 400-600 kg/m3, while that of highly degraded wood is around 100-200 kg/m3,
a loss of mass in the order of 50 to 80%. If the wood dries, the shrinkage is so bad
that it collapses.
In optimum conditions erosion bacteria can totally degrade a pine post consisting
entirely of sapwood within 100 years. In less favourable conditions the process
will be slower, and a pine post may still be partially unaffected after 1000 years
(Klaassen 2008a, in press). Oxygen does not appear to be crucial to the process,
though it may increase the rate of degradation (Klaassen 2005, Kretschmar et al.
2008a, b). Water circulation appears to be more important to the process of bacte-
rial degradation in wood than oxygen (Huisman & Klaassen 2005, Huisman et al.
2008c). Degradation will therefore be much greater in soil type 4 than in soil
type 5. It is not clear why water circulation is such a strong factor. It could be that
the process of bacterial degradation is kept active by the mixing of different types
of bacteria or waste products of degradation. The best environment for preserv-
ing wood in situ is thus an anoxic environment with no water circulation, as in
some (but not all) peat layers. They are completely anoxic, which makes fungal
activity impossible, and since there is little or no water circulation, there is also no
bacterial degradation.
Our understanding of the process of bacterial degradation is growing and it is set
to be the subject of research over the next few decades (see e.g. Klaassen et al.
2008). One hypothesis that requires testing in the near future is the assumption
that, when there are potential differences in the soil, water chooses the path of
least resistance. If a piece of wood connects two permeable layers of soil (e.g.
sandy layers divided by peat or a layer of clay), water will be transported easily
through the wood. This is thought to stimulate the degradation process. If wood
is fully embedded in a sandy layer, however – whether or not there is strong water
circulation – the water will flow through the sand rather than through the wood.
In such conditions there would be little degradation (Klaassen 2008b).
The major influence of water circulation on the degradation of wood means that
wood with an open structure is more vulnerable to degradation than wood with
a denser structure. Pine sapwood has the most open structure of all coniferous
woods, whereas pine heartwood is very closed. Woods like Norway spruce, silver
fir, larch and Douglas fir do have a much more closed structure throughout than
23
3 Effect of desiccation
on a piece of archaeo-
logical oak (approx.
600 years old) degraded
by erosion bacteria. Cell
collapse has caused the
sapwood to shrink and
crack. The original shape
of the object is now
difficult to identify, and
dendrochronological
analysis is virtually
impossible. The heart-
wood does not seem to
have been affected by
the bacteria; apart from
one small drying crack,
it shows no trace of
collapse. Photograph
René Klaassen, SHR,
Wageningen.
pine sapwood. Among hardwoods, oak sapwood, poplar and alder have a rela-
tively open structure, while the heartwood of oak is very closed. Figure 3 shows
oak sapwood that has been completely degraded by bacteria – and has collapsed
on drying out – while the heartwood has barely been affected.
2.4.4 Recognising microbial degradation

Two things are important when identifying degradation in archaeological wood.
Firstly, how far the degradation has progressed, and secondly, the means of deg-
radation (erosion bacteria, soft rot, white rot, brown rot). The first gives an indi-
4A-H Microscopical characteristics of various types of microbial wood degradation. A: Pine

(cross-cut) with signs of brown rot on the left. Some cells are already beginning to lose
their shape at the bottom of the affected zone. B: Oak (cross-cut) damaged by brown rot.
C: Fungal filaments in Norway spruce affected by brown rot (radial image). D: Norway
spruce (cross-cut) with white rot damage. The cells at the bottom of the image have been
completely degraded. E: Pine (cross-cut) with soft rot damage. Small holes can be seen in
the cell walls; these are typical of the cavities left by soft rot. F: Pine (radial image) with soft
rot damage. The cavities left in the cell walls follow the cellulose fibrillae; this has caused
the diagonal stripe pattern in the cells on the left. G: Alder (cross-cut) damaged by erosion
bacteria. The cell walls themselves have disappeared, and only the matrix of central lamel-
lae remains, kept intact by the water present in the wood. H: Oak (cross-cut) showing deg-
radation by erosion bacteria. Zones with little damage alternate with sections where the
cell wall has disappeared. Photographs René Klaassen, SHR, Wageningen.

Wood
A B
C D
E F
G H
25
cation of the damage so far, and also partly determines the value of the archaeo-
logical remains at a site. The second gives us a prediction for the future, whether
the value of the archaeological remains is likely to deteriorate.
It is difficult to see macroscopically how a piece of wood has been degraded, par-
ticularly if the degradation is still in its early stage. The best way of identifying
degradation is through a microscope. Sections (cross-cut and radial) are cut to a
thickness of approx. 20 µm, and dyed if necessary. The patterns typical of differ-
ent types of degradation can then be identified in the sections (see figure 4).
The degree of degradation is also determined on the basis of microscopic images,

but it is confirmed by analysis of the loss of mass and the moisture content on
saturation. In degraded waterlogged wood, water takes the place of the cell wall as
it rots away, so the moisture content rises as degradation progresses. This increase
in the moisture content can be used as a measure of degradation, taking account
of differences specific to the species. Waterlogged healthy wood has a moisture
content of 60-140%, while highly degraded wood has a moisture content of
>400%. Loss of mass can also provide information about the degree of degrada-
tion, though it is only indicative. It is not in fact possible to identify the original
volumetric mass of the wood, since this can vary considerably even in wood from
the same species. All kinds of substances can be transported into the wood by
water, raising the mass above normal values. Measuring the ash content gives an
impression of the extent to which this is the case. In healthy wood the ash content
will typically be low, while in degraded archaeological wood it will be much
higher.
Mould (particularly white mould) is often observed in or on the wood during

excavation or evaluation (figure 5). This is surface mould that only lives on the
wood, but it is incorrectly interpreted by some archaeologists as evidence that in
situ fungal degradation has occurred prior to excavation. This mould does how-
ever indicate that the wood is in a condition that it might make it vulnerable to
wood-degrading fungi. Wood colonising fungi are the first to become active.
These fungi live on substances in the wood, but do not damage the cell wall. In
fresh wood, this can lead to major commercial damage, as these fungi can grow
several centimetres per hour in ideal conditions, colouring the wood blue (visual
damage). Archaeological wood tends to contain few nutrients, as they will have
been converted over time. As a result, the likelihood that this type of fungi will
grow on the wood is small. Growth of both ‘blue stain’ fungi and surface and
wood-degrading fungi is fostered by warm temperatures. During longer excava-
tions, in particular, it might be necessary to take precautions to prevent fungal
activity.

Wood
5 Mould on a piece of
wood from a Roman
ship from Leidsche Rijn
(De Meern 4, see also
figure 3). This was inter-
preted in the field as
evidence of active deg-
radation by fungi. How-
ever, the wood turned
out to have been dam-
aged only by erosion
bacteria. The mould was
identified as a fungus
normally present in soils
(Klaassen & Creemers
2004).
2.4.5 Degradation at underwater sites

As long as wood is buried deep enough under the sediment, e.g. the seabed, the
biggest natural threat to the wood is degradation by erosion bacteria. As soon as
wood is exposed, other – much more serious – degradation processes may occur,
however. In high-energy environments – e.g. in tidal systems – physical damage
may occur due to sand transported by strong currents. This results in a form of
sandblasting that removes the surface layer of wood. Moreover, in many environ-
ments wood-inhabiting organisms occur, and they do even more damage by tun-
nelling into the wood. Shipworms (Teredo navalis) are the most well-known spe-
cies, but other molluscs from the Teredinidae family and also some species of
crustaceans (especially from the Limnoria family) are also woodborers. The dam-
age done by the tunnelling of woodborers is so severe that exposed wood has a life
expectancy of 10-20 years or even less (Palma 2004; de Boer et al. 2009, Manders
et al., 2008, Vos 2005). The only environments in which woodborers are not active
are fresh- and brackish water (e.g. the Baltic), and environments where the water
column above the sea floor is anoxic (e.g. the Black sea).
2.5 Loss of information
Advanced degradation by white or brown rot fungi completely destroys the wood
and its structure, making species determination and dendrochronological analy-
sis impossible. A soil feature may however remain behind, either because the soil
material mixes with the organic remains of the wood, or because an overlying
layer of a different colour fills the cavity that originally contained the wood. Such
a soil feature can provide information about the original shape of the object,
27
6A-E Impact of woodborers on maritime archaeological

wood. A: Wood severely damaged by shipworms. The
white tube-like features are the calcium carbonate-
covered channels. B: X-ray image of wood fragment with
severe damage by shipworms. The carbonate-covered
channels are visible as blue lines. This test piece shows
the result of one year of attack by woodborers. Image
courtesy of MOSS project. C: Coniferous wood from the
BZN shipwreck with extensive damage due to ship-
worms. D: Map of the 17th-century BZN 15 wreck. Due to
shipworm attack, most of the wood has disappeared.
A cargo of iron bars is still present in the centre of the
map. E: Example of shipwreck in waters with no wood-
borer activity (as yet):well-preserved 17th-century vessel
lying in the Baltic at a depth of approx. 140 m. Photo-
B graph Deep Sea Productions.
C E

Wood
though the resolution is seldom good enough to draw any conclusions as to how
it was made, let alone how it was used.
Advanced degradation by erosion bacteria has a less severe impact. As mentioned
above, the shape is preserved, as is the original surface, the tree ring patterns and
features necessary for species determination. Wood that has softened in this way
is however more vulnerable to damage (during excavation, for example) and to
cracking or desiccation. It must therefore be handled with particular care during
excavation and recovery.
In an intermediate stage of degradation, loss of the original wood surface may
occur. This would eradicate evidence of woodworking and tool marks. If the outer
layers of the wood are lost, accurate dendro-dating may also be considerably
hampered.

archaeological sites
The key factor determining whether, how, and how severely archaeological wood
is degraded at terrestrial sites is the moisture content of the soil. As long as the
wood in the soil never comes into contact with air (soil types 4 and 5), there will
be no rapid loss of information as a result of microbial degradation processes.
This means that at sites where wood represents a major proportion of the archae-
ological remains, it is important to monitor the soil moisture content. In most
cases, the water table will be a good starting point. Water saturation at any rate
occurs below the lowest average water table. However, the soil is also often satu-
rated immediately above the water table too (this is known as the full capillary
zone). In clay and peat soils, in particular, this zone may be many centimetres
thick (Huisman & Theunissen 2008).
Apart from monitoring the water table – which is in fact an indirect way of seeing
whether fungal degradation is occurring – one can also test whether certain forms
of degradation are active. Tests cannot be performed on the archaeological wood
itself, firstly because the degradation patterns in the wood are the net result of its
entire burial history (degradation in the past offers no guarantees for the future),
and secondly because excavating archaeological wood can in itself cause further
degradation. An option would be to bury pieces of wood at the site (e.g. in a bore-
hole) and remove them again after a time. The degradation patterns in this wood
will indicate what type of degradation is occurring at the time of monitoring.
At marine sites, attack by woodborers on exposed wood is one of the most serious
threats (see above). In areas where woodborers are (potentially) active, protection
and monitoring is aimed primarily at keeping the wood covered by sediment.
Several projects have investigated the possibility of in situ preservation of ship-
29
Handling wood during excavation
wrecks in high-energy environments. One of the largest projects so far has been
MoSS (Monitoring of Shipwreck Sites: Cederlund 2004), funded by the European
Union’s Culture 2000 programme.
If woodborers are not active at a marine site with exposed wood, changes in the
environment may make the area hospitable to them. Warming of seawater,
increased salinity and oxygenation of deeper water columns are possible changes
that may precipitate destruction of well-preserved sites with exposed wood
(Palma 2008). Monitoring of these parameters may be of primary importance
(Manders et al. 2008).
2.7 Handling wood during excavation
Wooden objects are frequently found in archaeological excavations, particularly

in the wet soils of the western Netherlands. When wood is found, one must quickly
decide whether it should be preserved. Once this is the case – or a decision has at
any rate been made and the find has been properly recorded – measures must be
taken to protect the object until it is delivered to the conservator. Firstly, one must
bear in mind that the outer surface may be very soft, and thus easily damaged.
Such objects should therefore be extracted using soft equipment: wooden tools,
brushes, and sometimes even a plant spray to remove the soil material.
Severe damage can occur if the wood is allowed to dry out in the air. This can
happen surprisingly quickly. Cracks will appear in the wood, pieces of the surface
will break off and the object can collapse. The soil material in which the object is
embedded provides protection against drying out in itself. It is better not to clean
objects unless it is strictly necessary, as it greatly increases the chances of damage
and desiccation. It is therefore best to wrap the wood or cover it with plastic or
foil. Covering is not enough for objects that have to remain exposed for a longer
period – if they are so large that removing them takes several days, for example.
These objects will have to be sprayed regularly to prevent them drying out. A
sprinkler system is often installed, and the wood is covered with woven ground
cover. This prevents the worst of the evaporation and protects the wood from the
sun, though it does let the water from the sprinkler through. Wood that has
already degraded is soon damaged further by fungi, particularly in warm condi-
tions with high relative humidity. In such conditions it is particularly important
to take precautions against degradation and desiccation; this is less urgent in cool
wet weather.
Large objects of highly degraded wood are sometimes held in shape by the sur-
rounding soil. The wood itself may not be strong enough to hold its shape inde-
pendently. If the surrounding earth is dug away, the weakened wood is likely
to collapse under its own weight. In such situations it is important to ensure

Wood
7A, B Support used

during the excavation of
a Roman ship in
Leidsche Rijn (De
Meern 1). A: The boards
of the ship have been
supported by expanded
polystyrene foam blocks
cut to size on location,
combined with wooden
and steel supports. This
prevents collapse, and
stops the side of the
ship from breaking
away. B: One of the
interior walls of the
A
cabin was supported by
expanded polystyrene
foam and plywood
before it was removed.
Note also the wood and
polystyrene foam sup-
porting the board.
adequate support to prevent the object from distorting or collapsing (figure 7A).
During removal, it is important to bear in mind that advanced degradation may
have robbed the object of much of its internal strength. In many cases, extensive
support is needed for the removal of such objects (figure 7B). Recording the vis-
ible parts of the wood prior to recovery is important, as objects may deform or
become otherwise damaged.
Once archaeological wood has been retrieved it must be treated to allow it to be

stored permanently. Various methods are used, depending on the degree of deg-
radation. Wood with little degradation, which is not very vulnerable to shrinkage
or collapse is often subjected to controlled drying or freeze-drying, for example.
31
Handling wood during excavation
Wood that is highly degraded, and is therefore vulnerable to damage due to

shrinkage or collapse, is generally treated by replacing the water needed to keep
the structure intact with a synthetic substance (e.g. polyethylene glycol, or PEG).
The choice of treatment will depend to a great extent on the quality of the wood.
Conservation techniques are not examined any further here.
Prior to conservation work, wood is often stored in wet conditions, either under-
water or under a sprinkler system. This prevents fungal damage. There is however
evidence that degradation by erosion bacteria is in fact accelerated in such condi-
tions (Klaassen & Creemers 2005). Waterlogging combined with strong water cir-
culation, as occurs with a sprinkler system, appears to provide ideal conditions for
these microorganisms. As a result, the wood becomes softer and loses even more
of its strength, though there is no loss of information. The progressive decay of
the cell walls can however make PEG conservation a better option, since PEG can
penetrate the wood more easily.

3 Bone
D.J. Huisman, R.C.G.M. Lauwerier, M.M.E. Jans,

A.G.F.M. Cuijpers, F.J. Laarman
Bone is a tissue that provides support and protection in the body and a structure
to which muscles can attach, thus allowing the body to move. Although humans
and the various species of animal are very different, mammals – including
humans – birds, fish, reptiles and amphibians have the same basic skeleton (fig-
ure 8). The presence, shape and size of the elements that make up the basic skel-
eton vary from species to species, and also within species.
The functions of bone are reflected in its unique composition. Bone is a combina-
tion of some 70% mineral and 30% organic fractions. The mineral component
8 Skeleton of a frog, a
bird and a bovide.
Colour codes indicate
basic parts that appear
in various shapes and
forms in each skeleton.
33
makes bone hard and rigid, consisting largely of crystals of hydroxyapatite or bio-
apatite (Ca10(PO4)6(OH)2). Apatite has a relatively low crystallinity, and contains
many other elements, either in place of Ca, PO4 or OH in the crystal matrix, or
adsorbed at the surface (Bigi et al. 1992). The organic fraction of bone consists
mainly of collagen, but also includes other proteins, such as osteocalcine, a small
protein that plays a role in the formation of bone in living organisms. Collagen is
a fibrous protein that gives bone its elastic properties. Mineralised collagen fibres
are the building blocks of bone. They are ordered in lamellae several microns thick
whose orientation determines the microstructure of the bone (Junqueira 1993),
which is often compared to plywood. The combination of collagen and apatite in
bone has the same effect as combining steel and cement in reinforced concrete: it
gives both elasticity and strength. After the death of the organism, it is this combi-
nation of mineral and collagen that helps preserve the bone in the soil.
Bone is a living, dynamic tissue which is replaced and adapted to the needs of the
body throughout life, even after growth has stopped, by means of a highly regu-
lated breakdown process (resorption) and the formation of new bone. This occurs
with the help of specialised bone cells which are connected in the bone pores
(lacunae) via small channels (canaliculi) and to the blood vessels in the bone. On
a micro-level, therefore, bone is highly porous. At a macro-scale, a distinction is
drawn between spongious bone (e.g. in the vertebrae) and compact bone (e.g. in
the shaft of long bones). These two types of bone differ only in the quantity of
bone per unit volume; in chemical terms they are identical. The bones of different
animal species and of humans differ not only in terms of their size and shape, but
also of their structure in many cases. For example, much of the animal bone
found in archaeological excavations (including cattle, horse, sheep, pig/wild boar,
chicken) is less porous than human bone (Robinson et al. 2003).
A lot of archaeological bone has been heated or burnt in food preparation or
cremation. Burning at a temperature higher than 550 degrees Celsius removes the
collagen. It also causes a colour change to grey, blue and white respectively with
increasing temperature (Wahl 1982). In addition, it changes the mineral compo-
nent, the crystals becoming larger and more stable as a result of recrystallisation.
This makes bone burnt at a temperature higher than 550 degrees Celsius more
resistant to most degradation processes. The absence of organic material means it
is less vulnerable to microbial attack. However, the disappearance of the collagen
and the recrystallisation of the apatite cause the volume to change, resulting in
fragmentation and distortion of the bone. The loss of collagen also makes the
bone brittle (Stiner et al. 1995).
Antler can be regarded as a type of bone that grows seasonally, ossifies and is then
shed. The ratio between the organic and mineral component is the same as in
‘ordinary’ bone. However, the macro-structure is different, the cylindrical shaft
being filled with highly dense spongious bone.

Bone
The teeth are a unique part of the skeleton. Mammal teeth consist largely of
enamel and dentin, with a small amount of cementum (Lyman 1994). The term
‘ivory’, used to denote the teeth of elephants, narwhals and walruses, which are
used to make objects, actually refers to only one of these elements: the dentine.
The enamel is the hardest part of a tooth. Only 1%-3% of it is organic material;
the rest is hydroxyapatite crystals arranged in prisms. Its low porosity and low
organic matter content makes enamel harder, more compact and less soluble than
dentin. However, it does break more easily. Dentine – ivory – is softer than enamel
but harder than bone. The organic and mineral components (30% and 70%
respectively) are more or less the same as in bone. Finally, cementum is an a-cel-
lular bone type that also consists of 70% apatite, 25% organic material and 5%
water.
3.2 Presence at archaeological sites
Bone occurs at virtually all archaeological sites. Humans have always had an asso-
ciation with animals and remains of both ‘species’ – humans and animals – can be
found where people once lived. Of all archaeological remains, human bone is the
most tangible and direct link to people who lived in the past. It is found in the
form of skeletons in Roman or Medieval cemeteries, for example, or as single
burials in or near settlements. The rite of cremating the dead produced extensive
burial grounds containing cremated bone fragments, particularly from the Bronze
Age, Iron Age and Roman period. The many hundreds of visible, artificial burial
mounds (barrows) containing cremation or inhumation (skeleton) burials are
still a striking feature of the landscape.
Throughout their history, humans have fished, hunted mammals and birds, bred
cattle for milk and meat or to pull their ploughs, kept domesticated animals for
transport, security or companionship. And there were the unwanted ‘vermin’ like
rats and mice that populated places of human habitation. Remains of all these
animals which served or plagued humans have been found. Occasionally, a whole
skeleton is found, generally of an animal that was not eaten because it was regarded
as a companion, like a horse, cat or dog. The animal may have been sick and there-
fore no longer regarded as edible, or it might have been deliberately buried as an
offering. However, the majority of animal bone is found in the form of butchering
waste and debris from food preparation and meals. Such bone, fragmented by the
butcher’s axe, and bearing traces of hacking, cutting and sawing, is found every-
where in occupation layers, often concentrated in waste layers, cesspits or disused
ditches and wells. Depending on the type of bone – or in fact the flesh that used
to be on it – the bone may have been heated as the meat was smoked, roasted or
boiled. Animal bone is also found in cremations as grave gifts or as remains of a
35
Archaeological information
9 ‘Bone’ comb made of

several antler plates.
From the circular
fortress at Oost-Souburg
(10th century).
meal for the dead. Finally, we also find archaeological bone that has been used as
a raw material: remains of bone objects, semi-manufactured objects or manufac-
turing waste (e.g. figure 9).
3.3 Archaeological information
3.3.1 Introduction
Bone from archaeological sites is a very important source of direct and indirect
information on human behaviour in the past and on humans and animals them-
selves. The study of bone provides a wealth of information. Human bone can tell
us about the gender, age, height and health of ‘buried’ individuals, and also, ulti-
mately, about the demographics of population groups. The height and health of
individuals in such a group can be an indication of food availability or the social
status of those individuals. By comparing groups, we can establish kinship and,
therefore, migration patterns, for example. Combining the study of bone and
grave types, grave gifts and the location of graves teaches us about burial rituals.
Studying animal bone reveals, among other things, which animals were hunted
and farmed. Traces of chopping and cutting on the bone allow us to determine
which animals were actually eaten. If we also consider the age of the animal, we
might for example be able to conclude that one group of people in a settlement
ate mainly young animals, while others had to make do with the older ones: an
indicator of social differences.
Information can also be generated on the ritual use of animals, on cultural pat-
terns associated with the slaughtering of animals and food production, the manu-
facture of objects from bone, antler and teeth, the environment in the past,
domestication, the introduction and extinction of animal species, hunting tech-
niques, breeding, trade and so on.
All this information about humans and animals in the past, the relationship
between them and their interaction with the surrounding environment is based

Bone
on a combination of various data from the bone itself and the context in which it
is found. Information can be derived from bone at various levels: macroscopic
(observable with the naked eye), microscopic and molecular. It is important to
distinguish between ‘solid’, primary data that can be derived directly from the
bone, and secondary data which are in fact a form of interpretation based on the
primary data. Degradation obviously causes the loss of primary data. The data
available from bone at a macroscopic, microscopic and molecular level are dis-
cussed below, with impressions or examples of the archaeological information
that can be derived at each level.
It should, incidentally, be borne in mind that these various levels of information
do not always play an equally important role in research, and are used in different
situations. For instance, 95% of the archaeological research conducted on human
and animal bone in the Netherlands takes place at the macroscopic level.
3.3.2 Macroscopic level

Information derived at the macroscopic level can be discerned with the naked eye.
Macroscopic primary data fall into six groups, and the reliability of their interpre-
tation depends on the number of pieces of bone studied and their physical qual-
ity:
Simple determination of the bone in terms of species or group (e.g. dog, human or
‘large mammal’) gives us an idea of what animals humans hunted or kept, as well
as a quantified indication of the composition of the animals caught, the livestock
kept or the people’s diet. When correlated with dates, this allows us to see when
certain species were domesticated, when animals died out, or when they arrived
in this region under their own steam or due to human intervention. Examples
include the introduction of cats and chickens in the Roman period, and of the
rabbit in the Middle Ages. A ‘species list’ featuring game animals might suggest
that the residents of a site were of noble status. Isolated human bones among
animal waste may indicate how the society dealt with their dead.
The type of skeletal element and which part of it is found (e.g. a fragment of no
more than a quarter of a left thigh bone) tells us about consumption patterns. We
can for instance conclude from the range of skeletal elements whether animals
were slaughtered in one place and consumed in another, or whether one group in
a settlement consumed better parts of animals than another.
Traces of modifications and pathologies (e.g. fracture patterns, traces of cutting,

hacking or sawing, burning or cremation, colour, weathering, teeth marks, bone
growths) mainly provide information about how animals were used after death.
This includes how they were slaughtered, skinned and butchered, how the bone
37
and antler were turned into objects, how food was prepared (e.g. grilling, smok-
ing, roasting) and how waste was disposed of. These traces also show us whether
the bone lay at the surface, whether it was burnt or cremated (in the case of both
human and animal bone), and whether the animal or person suffered any illness.
Traces of wear, weathering and discoloration also tell us a lot about the state of
preservation.
Bone material often contains anatomical indicators of age and sex (e.g. the poros-
ity of the bone, epiphyseal fusion, eruption and wear of teeth, growth lines, the
robustness of canine teeth, shape of skeletal muscle attachments). In human
remains, age and sex are of course important, as they give us an idea of demo-
graphics. In zoological remains, such information tells us about the composition
of the herd and, particularly, the use of farm animals. In the case of cattle, for
example, this information allows us to conclude whether they were used for trac-
tion, for the production of milk and manure, or primarily for meat.
In both humans and animals, size gives us an impression of health and access to
food. In mammals, size also allows us to distinguish between wild and domesti-
cated animals, and between male and female, as well as indicating differences
between groups or ‘bloodlines’.
The weight of the bone serves mainly to indicate the relative importance of differ-
ent species for meat production and other purposes.
Combining the above primary data and the information based on them allows
conclusions to be drawn at a higher level of aggregation for example on the envi-
ronment in which people lived, on migration patterns, seasonal occupation or
activities, the food economy, trade and exchange or social differentiation.
3.3.3 Microscopic level

Primary data are identified at microscopic level by means of micro wear analysis
and histological analysis (the microscopic study of tissues and cells).
Micro wear analysis studies modifications at the surface. Characteristic groups of
small scratches on the surface of objects made of bone, antler and teeth allow
conclusions to be drawn about how they were used – to scrape hides clean, for
example.
Species determination is based on the fact that microscopic bone structure differs
from one species of animal (e.g. horse and cattle) to another, and also between
humans and animals (Figure 10A,B). In fragmented material, in particular,
histological analysis is used to derive information about material that is difficult
or even impossible to assess macroscopically (including burnt bone material

Bone
A B
10A-C Microscopic images of human and

animal bone, and the effect of burning.
A: Horse. The structure (‘plexiform’) is
typical of animal bone. B: Human. The
structure (‘lamellar’) is characteristic of
human bone. C: Burnt bone. The black
patches in the bottom left and in the upper
right corner are the result of carbon accu-
mulation and are typical of burnt bone. The
structure is well-preserved in the centre, and
still identifiable as animal. Photographs
C S. Cuijpers, VU University Amsterdam.
(Figure 10C)). Bone material is sometimes so highly fragmented that it is no

longer possible to determine with the naked eye which species of animal it comes
from. Since differentiating between human and animal bone is important for the
evaluation of archaeological sites, microscopically visible differences in bone
structure are used for the purpose when necessary. In this way, it is also possible
to determine, for example, whether animal grave gifts are present in a human
cremation.
Various histological methods are available for determining age in humans, using
the teeth and long bones (diaphyses), particularly the thigh bone (femur). Such
estimates of age at death provide valuable insights into an individual’s life and are
also key for demographic studies. In animal material, histological analysis is used
to obtain information about seasonal use of a site, by analysing age characteristics
in teeth, for example. Age also tells us about food production and the composi-
tion of the herd.
Histology can play an important role in determining pathology, and also whether
changes to the shaft of a long bone, for example, can be attributed to disease or
post-depositional processes.
39
The burial history – particularly whether bone ended up in the soil already
stripped of flesh or as part of an intact body – is an important factor determining
the type and degree of microbial attack to which the bone is subject (Jans et al.
2004, Jans 2005). Studying degradation patterns allows us to reconstruct the his-
tory of the bone – whether it entered the soil as part of a complete body or as a
fragment. Microscopic degradation by bacteria and/or fungi in cremation remains
can also indicate certain burial rituals.
Burnt bones, e.g. from a cremation, are a separate category, as no microbial decay
occurs after bone has been heated to a temperature of 550 degrees Celsius. This in
fact makes them more suitable for histological analysis. However, certain factors
hamper the histological analysis of cremated bone. Burning, which causes the
secondary infiltration of carbon, can render the bone structure unrecognisable
(Figure 10C). Cracks caused by the heat can also make it difficult to recognise
histological structures. Histological age determination has however shown that,
generally speaking, histology is a useful additional tool for obtaining information
from burnt material (Cuijpers & Schutowski 1993).
3.3.4 Molecular level

Bone is a biological material, and therefore contains biomolecules, including
DNA and proteins. In certain circumstances, these molecules remain preserved.
Certain proteins and minerals (collagen, osteocalcine, apatite) are the key con-
stituents of bone. The elements and isotopes present in these substances reflect
the location, environment and diet of humans and animals during their lifetime.
Ideally, if well preserved, bone should also contain DNA, from which a diverse
range of archaeological information can be derived.
The analysis of DNA and, to a lesser extent, proteins such as collagen and osteo-
calcine, reveals information about kinship and evolution. Such information pro-
vides boundless opportunities to study migration and social stratification among
humans, as well as the domestication of animals. In the future, it might even be
possible to use it to study the spread of certain diseases (Jones 2001).
During life, bone forms using building blocks that come from food. The ratio of
stable carbon isotopes (13C/12C) changes if the person eats a lot of marine fish,
while the stable isotopes of nitrogen (15N/14N) vary according to an individual’s
consumption of meat and – in children – mother’s milk. A large number of trace
elements are also suitable for this purpose (Sponheimer Lee-Thorp 2006). This
means that bones (particularly the collagen they contain) can be used to deter-
mine what food was consumed.
In the past, humans and animals often ate and drank what they could find in their
immediate environment. As a result, they would tend to ingest a number of spe-
cific elements and isotopes typical of this environment. Analysing these compo-
nents of bone allows us to draw conclusions about the origin of people and

Bone
animals, and thus about migration and family ties. The components most com-
monly used for this purpose are stable isotopes of strontium (Sr), lead (Pb) and
oxygen (O), which are found in tooth enamel and bone (Evans et al. 2006, Price
et al. 2004).
The age of bone material can be determined by the 14C dating method. For further
information on this method, see the chapter on wood (previous).
3.4.1 Introduction
As soon as bone is buried it is exposed to transformation processes. However, it
will already have been subject to many processes and treatments prior to burial in
the soil. This not only includes heating or burning, but also changes to the bone
related to the process of decomposition. The preservation of bone in the soil
depends on the properties of the bone itself (including its size, porosity and com-
position) and the burial environment. Porous bone is not only physically less
robust, it also has a larger surface area where reactions can occur with the envi-
ronment. Small bones weather faster than large bones from the same species.
Degradation of bone can be subdivided into biological degradation, mechanical
degradation and chemical degradation. The sections below look at the processes
of transformation and degradation affecting bone, and the conditions in which
they occur.
3.4.2 Biological processes

Bones are a popular source of nutrients for many forms of life, thanks to their
high nitrogen and phosphorus content. After the death of an organism, its bone
material is consumed and degraded mainly by microorganisms, though insects
and – after burial – plants, sometimes also play a role. Damage by insects and
plant root growth mainly affects the surface of the bone. Various microorganisms
such as bacteria and fungi damage the microstructure, however, producing char-
acteristic microscopic tunnels (foci) in the bone (figure 11). Microbial attack
makes bone more porous, and therefore more vulnerable. At an advanced stage,
this can cause the complete disintegration and loss of the bone. There is a differ-
ence between the degradation caused by bacteria and that caused by fungi. The
first occurs soon after burial, particularly in human material, and is not greatly
influenced by the soil. Traces of bacterial decay are often fossil (i.e. the bacteria are
no longer active). Bacterial degradation of bone begins soon after the person or
animal has died (within three months). Bacterial decay is most common in bone
from complete skeletons, which suggests that it occurs mainly as the body decom-
poses, bacteria from the intestinal tract colonising the body (Jans et al. 2004). In
41
A B
11A-C Microscopic images of the impact of
microbial degradation on bone. A: Well-
preserved archaeological bone. The channels
which would have contained the blood
vessels during life and the holes that would
have contained cells are still visible.
B: Archaeological bone that has been
subject to bacterial attack. The bacterial
degradation can be seen in the form of
irregular dark structures in the bottom half
of the image. This has destroyed the micro-
structure in places, sharply reducing the
C
likelihood that biomolecules are still present
and increasing the risk of contamination
with recent material. C: Archaeological bone damaged by fungi. The damage can be
seen as randomly branching tunnels running through the bone. Photographs M. Jans,
VU University Amsterdam.
burials of complete animals, clear indications have been found that bones in the
immediate vicinity of the intestines (e.g. the lower vertebrae) are more strongly
degraded than bones situated further away (e.g. legs; figure 12). This differentia-
tion is not seen in the bones of animals that were eaten, which entered the soil
with all the flesh removed, thus reducing the extent of decomposition. Bacterial
degradation is curbed by high levels of heavy metals such as lead or copper (Jana-
way 1996), as is commonly seen in burials with grave gifts. When humic acid
infiltrates, this can also curb microbial decay.
Although plants do not directly consume bone material, their roots can cause
considerable damage (figure 13). They may grow through bone coincidentally,
though in some cases preferential growth through bone does occur. Apparently,
in such cases the environment in the bone is more conducive to plant growth than
the rest of the soil (as a result of moisture levels, or the presence of nutrients).

Bone
12 Cattle skeleton during an excavation. The front legs and part of the skull can clearly be
seen on the right. The hind legs are visible on the left. The position of the spine has been
indicated with lines scratched in the surface. The central part of the skeleton (ribs, pelvis
and spine) was closest to the intestines, and was therefore most strongly degraded after
burial. The outermost parts escaped the worst forms of degradation as they were further
from the intestines. Photograph M. Bartels, Municipality of Deventer.
A B
13A, B Damage to archaeological bone by plants. A: Microscopic image of an archaeologi-
cal bone, where a plant root has grown through the bone structure. The remains of plant
roots are visible in the middle of a cavity in the bone caused by root action. Photograph
M. Jans, VU University Amsterdam. B: Bone severely damaged by preferential root growth.
43
Damage by fungi, plants and insects occurs mainly in an environment where oxy-
gen is available. Damage by fungi (saprotrophes) occurs in specific conditions.
Fungi need oxygen and a minimum moisture level in the bone of some 20%,
which is common in well-drained soils, in particular. In practice, therefore, bone
in layers that are permanently water-saturated does not generally suffer much
biological degradation. In well-drained soils, however, bone above the water table
will suffer a great deal of damage.
In a marine context the microstructure of bone can be damaged by various organ-
isms. In places where the bone is exposed to daylight, the most important are
probably blue-green algae, which cause tunnels in the microstructure similar to
those caused by fungi (Bell et al. 1991). The surface of the bone suffers little dam-
age from barnacles and bryozoa, though the former do cause circular marks on
the surface (Laarman & Lauwerier 2006; figuur 14).
3.4.3 Mechanical processes

Mechanical processes affecting the preservation of bone generally occur when the
bone is buried not far below the surface. It can then potentially be damaged by
trampling, changes in temperature (freeze-thaw) and strong fluctuations in mois-
ture levels. These cause microscopic cracks in the bone, which then fragments and
splinters. Bone can also suffer compaction due to sediment pressure if it is buried
deeper in the soil, particularly if other forms of damage have already weakened its
structure. Construction work (pile driving, compaction, settling) can also cause
the same effects.
Bone from a moist context (such as the soil) can split and flake if it dries out too
quickly (e.g. after excavation).
Bone that is in flowing water sustains both weathering to its surface and a
smoothening of the ends and edges (Laarman & Lauwerier 2006). The degree to
A B
14A, B Damage to bones from marine sites. A: Remains of barnacles on a cattle radius
from the Waddenzee. B: Detail of the skull of a 17th-century drowning victim from the Wad-
denzee, with light circular marks on the bone caused by barnacles.

Bone
which this occurs varies considerably, and is associated mainly with erosion due
to the action of water and sand. Another form of mechanical weathering occurs
when bone from a saltwater environment dries out (e.g. after excavation). Crys-
tallisation of the salt can split the bone.
3.4.4 Chemical processes

Chemical conversion or degradation of bone involves (1) degradation of collagen,
(2) the dissolving or conversion of apatite and (3) the formation of new minerals
in the bone matrix. The first two processes are highly interwoven: once one of the
components of the bone has been affected, the decay of the other will accelerate
in the absence of mutual protection (Trueman & Martill 2002) It is important to
remember that some of the chemical information in the bone can be lost due to
processes – such as leaching or exchange of elements with groundwater – that
have no visible impact on the macro- or microstructure of the bone.
The chemical decomposition of collagen includes two temperature-dependent
processes: depolymerisation and hydrolysis (Collins et al. 1995). Decomposition
can be curbed by the infiltration of humic acids, but microbial decay accelerates
the process. Degradation of collagen causes apatite to recrystallise, probably
because the collagen helps the apatite crystals keep their shape (Pate et al. 1989).
In certain conditions, apatite can preferentially dissolve. Sometimes it recrystal-
lises, and sometimes its components will form larger crystals of the mineral brus-
hite (CaH(PO4).2H2O. Brushite is highly soluble, however, and, like apatite, can
completely disappear from the bone matrix. When there is only slight dissolving,
or in the event of recrystallisation, the micro- and macrostructure of the bone
remains intact, and only elements are exchanged with the groundwater. However,
precipitation of brushite can cause cracks in the bone. If the dissolving and leach-
ing of apatite and any newly formed brushite reach an advanced stage, the min-
eral component disappears from the bone entirely, leaving it brittle and fragile, or
causing it to disintegrate completely. This form of degradation is particularly
common in acid soils, and is exacerbated by strong water flows. Calculations have
shown that bone in soils with flowing groundwater and low acidity disappears
entirely within a few hundred years of burial, leaving only discoloration in the soil
(Hedges & Millard 1995). Sometimes this discoloration can be identified as a
body silhouette, but in many cases nothing recognisable remains. Bones from an
environment where chemical degradation occurs but where there is little or no
mechanical or biological degradation may be damaged at the surface but remain
intact inside (figure 15). However, this form of degradation is fairly rare.
In some soils components from the soil solution may precipitate out, forming
new minerals in the bone. In a calcium-rich environment, calcite (chalk; CaCO3)
is deposited in natural pores and cracks. As a result, the bone may show cracks. In
45
15 Body of a cattle
vertebra. The bone sur-
face has almost com-
pletely disappeared,
while the spongy bone
inside has remained
preserved. This form of
degradation is fairly
rare, and indicates that
purely chemical dissolv-
ing processes have
occurred, affecting the
bone from the outside
in. Raalte Hordelman
excavation.
an anoxic, sulphate-rich environment where iron is available, the mineral pyrite

(FeS2) can form in bones. Pyrite is not in itself damaging, and is commonly found
in bones. However, if bone containing pyrite comes into contact with oxygen as
the soil dries out or it is washed out (from underwater sediment), or as the site is
excavated, for example, the pyrite will oxidise. This process forms sulphuric acid,
among other things (see the chapters on iron and monitoring). This acid forma-
tion process (in which orange/red iron oxides and hydroxides, yellow jarosite and
white gypsum can also be deposited) can have a disastrous impact on the bone
material (Turner-Walker in press).
Changes to the crystallinity and composition of the bone material can eventually
lead to fossilisation, which preserves the bone for a very long time, in macroscopic
terms. In burial environments that are rich in iron and manganese (e.g. in zones
where iron ore is or has been actively formed) iron and or manganese oxides can
be deposited on the surface of the bone. Although much remains unclear about
the exact effect of these processes, particularly their implications for bone, it
would appear that this has a preserving effect on the material, increasing its
strength and forming a buffer against the surrounding burial environment.
Although the salt in seawater can cause mechanical damage (see above), it prob-
ably plays a positive role in chemical terms. The little research done on this sug-
gests it fosters organic preservation and causes a slight change in the mineral apa-
tite (increased Ca concentration) (Arnaud 1978).

Bone
3.5 Loss of information as a result of degradation
3.5.1 Introduction
The biological, mechanical and chemical processes referred to above affect the
various types of information present in bone. Complete destruction leaves virtu-
ally no information. Sometimes a discoloration in the soil, in the form perhaps of
a body silhouette, is all that remains. But even if bone is not completely destroyed,
biological, mechanical and chemical weathering reduces the archaeological infor-
mation in bone. Processes of transformation and decay affect bone material at all
three levels of archaeological information discussed in section 3.3: macroscopic,
microscopic and molecular. Experience has shown that loss of information value
at one level need not necessarily lead to further loss at another. There are many
examples of macroscopically excellent bone material that cannot be used for his-
tological analysis due to advanced degradation, and vice versa. This section there-
fore looks at how the various types of information are influenced by different
types of degradation.
3.5.2 Macroscopic information

Fragmentation and damage to the surface are the most important and most com-
mon factors limiting the archaeological information that can be derived from
macroscopic analysis.
The degree of fragmentation can vary enormously. Gordon and Buikstra (1981)
have developed a classification system with five categories to describe the degree
of fragmentation. However, their system was designed for assessing complete
skeletons (usually human) in graves, and is less suitable for bone fragments
(which are often animal). A system of four categories (Table 1) has therefore been
devised for this latter, most common, group.
A high degree of fragmentation makes species determination and, to a lesser
extent, determination of the skeletal element difficult or even impossible, thus
jeopardising key information on hunting, stockbreeding and fishing, and the con-
sumption of meat. A certain degree of fragmentation makes it more difficult to
determine age and sex, and prevents any measurements from being taken – to
calculate height, for example.
47
Loss of information as a result of degradation
Table 1 Classification of degree of fragmentation of bone material.
Category Degree of fragmentation

1 Strong, complete bone or bone fragment
2 Fragile but complete bone or bone fragment
3 Disintegrated, fragmented bone or bone fragment
4 Completely decayed bone in the form of a soil feature (discoloration) and,
possibly, dental enamel
Behrensmeyer (1978) has devised five categories to describe the degree of surface
degradation (Table 2). Degradation or weathering of the bone surface makes it
difficult or impossible to study traces of processing, teeth marks and pathologies.
This is particularly common in an aquatic environment where the bone has been
scoured by sand. In such a context, where the ends of the bones have been rounded
off, it is no longer possible to determine age on the basis of the long bones. The
shape of the bone does however remain preserved to an advanced stage, allowing
determination of species and skeletal element.
In a marine environment, though barnacles and bryozoa do not damage the sur-
face of bone as such, these organisms can obscure traces of cutting or other sur-
face information (Laarman & Lauwerier 2006; figure 14). A layer of bryozoa can
sometimes have a positive effect, however, protecting the surface of the bone from
damage caused by the scouring effect of sediment.
Table 2 Stages in the weathering of bone (Behrensmeyer 1978)
Stage Characterisation
0 Bone shows no traces of cracking or flaking
1 Bone displays cracks parallel to the fibre structure or in a mosaic pattern
on the surfaces of joints
2 Early stages of flaking in outermost concentric bone layers
3 Surface shows rough, weathered patches where all the outermost
concentric bone layers have disappeared
4 Bone surface is coarsely fibrous and rough, small and large splinters
have (almost) flaked off
5 Bone disintegrates in situ such that its shape is difficult to determine

Bone
Microbial attack has little impact on the macroscopic information in bone, until
the degradation is advanced and the bone fragments. The same applies to chemi-
cal conversion, except for the fact that recrystallisation of apatite and the precipi-
tation of new minerals can cause fossilisation, though this actually means that the
macroscopic information is the best preserved of the three types. Another posi-
tive effect is caused by the deposition of iron and manganese oxides on the surface
of the bone in sandy areas containing iron ore. Bone that otherwise would already
have decayed completely can have remained relatively intact at the surface thanks
to the precipitation of these oxides. In this way, bone from such adverse burial
environments can still provide information on species, skeletal element and age.
3.5.3 Microscopic information

Damage to the surface of the bone – by mechanical, biological or chemical proc-
esses – entirely precludes the microscopic study of signs of use on objects made of
bone or antler. Action by microorganisms inside the bone can damage its micro-
structure. The Oxford Histological Index (OHI) is often used to characterise this
type of damage (Table 3).
Table 3 The Oxford Histological Index (Hedges et al. 1995, Millard 2001). mfd: microscopic
focal destruction, *: small pores in bone containing osteocytes during life, #: channels in
the bone which contain blood vessels during life
Category % original Characterisation

microstructure
5 >95 Perfectly preserved microstructure
4 >85 Only small numbers of mfd
3 >50 Some osteocyte lacunae* well preserved
2 <50 Clear lamella structure preserved between mfd
1 <15 Small areas of well-preserved bone, or lamella
structure preserved in pattern of mfd
0 < 5 No original bone structures visible, except for
Haversian channels #
Microbial attack prevents the original bone structure from being seen in its com-
plete state. This is a particular problem when it comes to histological age determi-
nation, since this requires an area of intact bone structure. The greater the dam-
age, the more difficult it will be to use the bone for this purpose. The same applies
to the determination of species (figure 16) and any pathology present. The pres-
ence of certain types of microbial degradation can, on the other hand, provide
49
16 Microscopic image
of highly degraded
animal bone. The struc-
ture can barely be rec-
ognised. Photograph
M. Jans VU University
Amsterdam.
information on the burial environment at burial, or indicate whether the bone

was buried as part of a complete body.
Microcracks – side effects of chemical degradation, and sometimes of mechanical

processes – do not disturb the microstructure itself, though they do make it dif-
ficult to obtain a good microscopic image of it. A large number of microscopic
cracks can even make bone with no sign of microbial attack unsuitable for histo-
logical analysis. A bone without microbial decay but more than 80% microcracks
cannot for example be assessed, while bone with a large degree of microbial decay
and no cracks probably can.
The decomposition of collagen clouds the microscopic image without necessarily
directly disturbing the structure. Differences in the orientation of bone fibres are
sometimes used for species determination (e.g. to distinguish between horse and
cattle, and also between humans and animals), largely because collagen is bire-
fringent in thin sections. Loss of birefringence as a result of degradation therefore
hampers species determination.
Fossilisation (recrystallisation of apatite and precipitation of new minerals) can
leave the microstructure of the bone perfectly intact, even preserving birefrin-
gence.
3.5.4 Molecular information

In the right conditions, various biomolecules such as DNA and proteins (includ-
ing collagen and osteocalcine) can remain preserved in bone. The state of preser-
vation of the bone material determines the amount and reliability of the informa-
tion that survives. However, DNA is a large, vulnerable molecule that can survive
in fragments in the bone matrix only in favourable circumstances. Degradation
by microorganisms is particularly bad for the preservation of biomolecules, caus-

Bone
ing them to disappear (collagen, for example, is digested by bacteria), and intro-
ducing more recent biomolecules with a different composition into the bone.
Microbially degraded bone will also absorb more recent biomolecules more read-
ily (e.g. DNA during an excavation). Extreme compaction will improve the pres-
ervation of biomolecules, reducing the influence of microorganisms and chemi-
cal reactions.
Though collagen is fairly robust, if it does degrade, palaeodiet analysis becomes
impossible, and 14C dating difficult. The infiltration of chemical components
from the soil, particularly humic acids, can hamper the analysis of stable isotopes,
as they introduce C- or N-isotopes from the environment. Recrystallisation of
apatite and the formation of brushite causes the isotopes and trace elements orig-
inally present to exchange with those in the soil. This contaminates the original
bone material, making isotope and trace element analysis less reliable. In the
process of fossilisation, many original bone molecules are replaced by minerals,
and the bone therefore no longer contains any biogenic information.

Bone material suffers most in permeable acidic soils with high oxygen availability.
For bone to be well preserved, it should preferably lie in alkaline (generally cal-
cium-rich) soils with poor permeability and little or no oxygen. When protecting
archaeological sites known or suspected to contain bone, it is therefore important
that the water table be kept high, and any acidification curbed. The important
parameters for monitoring the burial environment are therefore pH and redox
potential.
If bone material constitutes an essential part of a particular site, and if clear threats
are present, it might be necessary to specifically monitor the quality of the bone
itself (van Heeringen & Theunissen 2002, van Heeringen et al. 2004). The Archae-
ological Monitoring Standard (SAM) describes techniques for this (Smit et al.
2006 a,b). In essence, monitoring involves ascertaining the current physical qual-
ity of bone, tracking that quality over time and monitoring the burial environ-
ment.
Step one is thus to determine the current physical quality. By looking at the pres-
ervation of the macrostructure and the surface, it is possible to estimate the infor-
mation value of the bone material for physical anthropological or archaeozoo-
logical analysis at macroscopic level. Histological methods can be used to assess
the potential for chemical or histological analysis to be used to determine age, for
example. In this way, one can identify what degradation mechanisms are active at
a site. Fungal attack is a particular cause for concern.
51
Handling bone during excavation
There are two different ways of tracking the bone quality over time: regularly col-
lecting bone material for analysis (van Heeringen et al. 2004), or comparing
material from an earlier excavation at the same location with recently excavated
material (van Heeringen & Theunissen 2002). The latter is a relatively quick
method, although there is a risk that small variations in the burial environment at
a site will cause the bone samples to degrade at different rates and in different
ways. It is important that various environmental parameters at the site are meas-
ured and, if possible, other categories of material should be examined (van Heer-
ingen et al. 2004). Material sampled from a borehole will by definition be frag-
mented. Macroscopic analysis of this material will give general information about
its state of preservation. Histological analysis is generally the preferred method of
obtaining a more detailed picture.
The third element is monitoring the burial environment to determine the extent to
which it is conducive to preservation. As stated above, parameters like pH and
redox potential are particularly important when it comes to bone.
3.7 Handling bone during excavation
3.7.1 Recovering bone

How bone is recovered during an excavation depends on what precisely is being
investigated and the condition of the material at the site. Information is most
likely to be lost during excavation if an incorrect recovery technique is used. If no
sieving takes place, or a sieve with a large mesh is used, the bones of fish, birds and
smaller mammals will not be recovered, and it will not be possible to draw con-
clusions about poultry keeping, hunting for birds, fishing, the importance of
poultry and fish in the diet, and trade in these species. This cannot be rectified
later, as excavation irreversibly destroys a site.
Bone may be found in isolation or in context. If bones form part of a partial or
complete skeleton, it is worth bringing in an expert to recover them, partly because
he or she will be able to establish the position and to determine the size of the
individual more accurately. The recovery of complete skeletons for display in a
museum, for example, is also specialist work. However, if the investigation requires
chemical analysis (e.g. stable isotopes or DNA; see also below) or 14C dating, the
sampled bone must not be impregnated.
As a general rule, when recovering bone material it is important to ensure that it
is not damaged with the tools used in excavation, so that any cutting, butchering
or hacking marks are ‘authentic’. The location of the bone must be recorded, and
may be photographed. The method of recovery also depends on its quality, with
the following rules of thumb applying (categories from Table 1):

Bone
Category 1 (Strong, complete) The bone can be removed (by hand or by sieving)
and washed. The bone should dry slowly and naturally. No further treatment is
necessary.
Category 2 (Fragile, complete) The bone can be carefully removed and rinsed and/
or cleaned with a brush. In the case of a complete or partial skeleton, the bones
can be removed by hand; in all other cases they should preferably be removed by
sieving. Dry slowly to prevent cracking – not in the sun, or using a heater or dry-
ing cupboard. The bone may be impregnated (brushed or dipped) with diluted
white wood glue (1 part glue to 9 parts water).
Category 3 (Fragmented, disintegrated) If the bone forms a skeleton, it should

preferably be removed by a specialist, who will usually take out an entire block for
further treatment in a laboratory. There, the bone will be cleaned and preserved
under controlled conditions. If the bone is not part of a skeleton, sieving is the
best option.
Category 4 (Completely decayed; soil feature) This category of bone material largely
disappears when it is excavated. The information still present must be observed
by an archaeozoologist during excavation and recorded in the documentation in
the form of drawings and photographs. Dental enamel should be removed, as it
may still be suitable for analysis (including chemical analysis).
Bone from a marine context must be rinsed with freshwater in order to remove
the salt before it is allowed to dry slowly. This prevent crystallisation of the salt,
which would cause the bone to disintegrate.
3.7.2 Specific requirements for DNA analysis

Archaeological bone contains very low concentrations of DNA, if at all. Given the
fact that living humans and animals not only contain a lot of DNA, but also con-
tinually distribute it in the environment in their saliva, flakes of skin, hair, etc.,
there is a very strong chance that archaeological material will be contaminated
with modern DNA. If bone or teeth are to be sampled for DNA analysis, special
precautions must therefore be taken during excavation to prevent recent DNA
ending up in the archaeological bone. This occurs particularly when the bone is
touched, allowing sweat, skin cells and DNA fragments to penetrate the bone, but
contamination can also occur if saliva falls on the material as people talk, or skin
cells end up on the bone from another part of the body. During excavation, the
person who takes the sample will therefore not only have to wear sterile gloves,
but also a mask over their mouth, a paper cap over their hair, and overalls over
their clothes. The tools used to excavate and take the sample must also be clean. If
53
Handling bone during excavation
necessary, they can be cleaned with bleach, though it is better to use disposable
tools. Clean gloves will have to be worn for each sample to prevent cross-contam-
ination from other samples. It is important for DNA analysis (and other biomo-
lecular research) that the bone is not glued or washed during or after excavation.
The bone or tooth sample should be wrapped in clean aluminium foil and stored
in a separate sterile container in a cool, dry place to be taken to the laboratory.
Steps must also be taken to prevent the sample coming into contact with any
recent or sub-recent reference material. DNA samples should be taken from all
the people working on the excavation (at the site and in the lab) and analysed to
identify any contamination.

4 Leather
D.J. Huisman, B.J.H. van Os, J. Nientker, L. Megens
4.1.1 The raw material

Leather is skin that has been processed in such a way (tanned) that it remains sup-
ple and stable during use. This is usually a complex process involving several
stages. In exceptional cases, skin can also acquire leather-like properties in the
soil. The most well-known example of this is bog bodies – the remains of humans
found in upland peat in Northwest Europe, whose skin is sometimes extremely
well preserved. Although not leather in the strict sense, bog bodies have been
included in this chapter.
The skin is the largest organ of any mammal. It forms a protective layer against
infection, contains receptors for temperature and touch, sweat and sebaceous
glands and hair follicles. It responds to the environment by repairing itself (when
damaged), forming calluses (when subjected to frequent pressure) or becoming
discoloured (as a response to intense sunlight). Skin is flexible and elastic. In the
process of making leather, an attempt is made to retain these properties, as well as
to prevent degradation (rot).
Skin consists of three layers (figure 17): the outer layer, or epidermis, the outside
of which consists of cells that are regularly replaced, while the inside layer pro-
17 Schematic represen-
tation of the main parts
of the skin.
55
duces new cells, and also contains pigment cells. The core of the skin is the dermis,
or corium, which largely consists of proteins (collagen, elastin and keratin). The
amount of fat it contains depends on the species: 0.5-4% in cattle and horses,
3-10% in goats, 3-30% in sheep and 4-40% in pigs (Bienkewitz 1983). This layer
also contains the hair follicles, the sebaceous and sweat glands and the touch
receptors. The innermost layer of the skin (the hypodermis or subcutis) is made of
connective tissue. This layer also contains the blood vessels and nerves.
4.1.2 Processing skin to produce leather

Skin is strong, flexible and elastic. In the process of making leather, an attempt is
made to retain these properties, as well as to prevent degradation (rot). The first
stage of processing skin to produce leather involves removing the top and bottom
layers (the epidermis and hypodermis or subcutis) using scrapers. Another method
used to remove the epidermis and hair was to saturate skins with water and then
hang them in a damp environment. Bacterial decay would then make the outer
layer easier to remove. Later, particularly in the Middle Ages, and possibly earlier,
the epidermis and hair were removed with an alkaline solution, usually calcium
hydroxide. Removal of the hypodermis or subcutis has always been a mechanical
process. In some cases, further processing was also carried out, to remove any
excess calcium hydroxide, for example (using a slightly acidic solution, such as
vinegar), or to make the leather extra supple, using bird or dog faeces (Forbes
1957).
This leaves the supple, elastic dermis, with remains of the epidermis and hypoder-
mis/subcutis (see figure 18). This layer still has the required properties in terms of
strength, elasticity and suppleness, but is highly vulnerable to drying out and to
18 Enlarged cross-sec-
tion of a piece of archae-
ological calfskin. The
middle part of the cross-
section is the dermis,
where twisted collagen
fibres are clearly visible.
Image L. Megens ICN.

Leather
damp. If it becomes wet, it can rot as the collagen fibres are easily accessible for
microorganisms. If it dries out, however, it becomes stiff and translucent as the
loose structure of the collagen fibres collapses (Forbes 1957, Jensen 2004). Various
methods were used in the past to combat these effects. They are commonly known
as ‘tanning’, though in the strictest sense this term should be used only for a cer-
tain form of processing whereby tannin is applied to the skin, replacing the water
and irreversibly bonding with the collagen fibres. This both ensures that water can
no longer penetrate the leather, making it less sensitive to aqueous solutions, and
strengthens the structure of the collagen fibres so that they do not collapse and
harden when they dry out (Jensen 2004, Cronyn 2001).
Various techniques or combinations of techniques can be used to make skin, or
hides, durable (Forbes 1957, Groenman van Wateringen 1999):
1. Smoking. The leather is hung in the smoke of a fire. The aldehydes in the smoke
protect the leather from microbial decay. The effect of this method is compa-
rable with the more recently applied technique of bathing in aldehydes. How-
ever, because this is not tanning in the true sense, the leather does remain vul-
nerable to degradation.
2. Oils. The leather is treated with oil, making it more water-resistant, supple and
durable. Again, this is not real tanning, and the leather remains susceptible to
degradation.
3. Tanning with natural substances. Tannin from oak bark is usually used for this
purpose. In the Far East, Tannin from the Sumak tree was used. This is ‘real’
tanning. The leather is left in a bath of tannin, often for more than a year,
sometimes two. The tannin bonds with the collagen fibres by forming hydro-
gen bridges, but residues of unbonded tannin also remain in the leather. Even-
tually, the tannin accounts for 30-50% of the total mass of the leather (a tan-
ning rate of 40-100%).
4. Tanning with synthetic substances, mostly inorganic salts. In the past, aluminium
salts (such as alum, or hydrated aluminium potassium sulphate) were com-
monly used. Nowadays, chromium compounds are used on a large scale. The
chromium process is irreversible, but aluminium salts can leach out.
5. To make chamois leather, oxidising fats are mechanically applied to the leather,
creating a very soft, water-resistant leather that can absorb four times its weight
in water.
In prehistory, it was probably standard practice to make leather by smoking and/

or using oils. It is also quite likely that unprocessed hides were used. From the
Roman period onwards, however, leather was actually tanned, mainly using tan-
nin.
57
A B
19A, B Enlarged views of archaeological calfskin (SEM images). A: View from above (skin
side): the hair pattern is clearly visible. B: View from below (flesh side): a tangle of protein
fibres. Images L. Megens ICN.
As a result of the properties of skin, the top (skin) side of leather differs markedly
from the underside. The skin side is smooth, with a pattern made by hair follicles.
The underside is rougher, consisting mainly of tanned protein fibres (figure 19).
4.1.3 Special situations
Parchment
Parchment is a thin, papery material made from the skin of various animals.
Sometimes, the term parchment is applied only to the skins of sheep and other
lower-quality skins, while ‘vellum’ is used to refer to the very fine skin of calves
(sometimes unborn). But this distinction is not always drawn. According to the
classical literature, the skins of calves, cows, goats, sheep, rabbits, donkeys and
even wolves were used to make parchment (Forbes 1957).
Parchment was made by treating skin with alkalis to remove the hair. It was then
dried, scraped and stretched. It was not tanned. Parchment is around 0.6 mm
thick on average, though some varieties were significantly thinner or thicker,
depending on the type of skin used. It is at any rate much thicker than modern-
day writing paper (approx. 0.1 mm). It was used mainly for writing, and some-
times for making musical instruments (skins and strings; Forbes 1957). Parch-
ment is rarely found in an archaeological context. However, examples dating back
at least to the 6th AD century are known (e.g. MS 286, fol 125 in the Corpus
Christi College Cambrige; De Hamel 1994).
Bog bodies
Many bog bodies have been found in the peat bogs of Northwest Europe. They are
human bodies that ended up in the peat, whose skin has been remarkably well
preserved. It is often assumed that the acidic burial conditions produce this kind

Leather
of preservation. Recent research has however shown that it is more likely to be the
presence of certain organic compounds in the peat that causes this effect. Sphag-
num peat contains various compounds that have similar properties to tannin, for
example. It is likely that they cause some kind of natural tanning process, produc-
ing a similar effect to tanning with tannin (Stankiewicz et al. 1997).
Hides and leather have probably been used for a very long time. It is in fact likely
that they were used by Neanderthal man and the ancestors of humans. Unfortu-
nately, no material of this age has been preserved, so information on certain
aspects of the use of leather has been derived from ethnographic studies or other
finds. Traces of skin processing have been found on artefacts from the Middle
Palaeolithic, suggesting that hides were used by Neanderthal man (Keeley 1980).
Bone needles occur from the beginning of the Late Palaeolithic, 40,000/35,000 BP
(de Sonneville-Bordes 1974), clearly indicating that hides, skins or pieces of
leather were being sewn together by modern humans when they entered Europe,
probably to make clothes, belts and bags. There is also some evidence of the use of
leather or skin from this period, in the form of the impression of a foot in a shoe
found in the soft clay on the floor of a cave at Fontanet (F). It has been dated to
12270 (± 42) BP (Clottes 1995).
The oldest existing examples of hide or leather come from Italy. The clothing and
equipment found on ‘Ötzi the Iceman’, who lived in the Alps somewhere between
3350 and 3100 BC and whose frozen body was discovered in the Italian Alps in
1991, was largely made of hide and leather (Spindler 1994): a calfskin belt pouch,
a quiver probably made of the skin of a mountain goat, a cap of brown bearskin,
a fur coat, fur leggings, a goatskin loin cloth and shoes with cow’s leather soles
(with hair on the inside) and deer hide uppers (with hair on the inside; Groen-
man-Van Wateringen 2001). The fur and leather were found to have been smoked
and not actually tanned (Groenman-Van Wateringen 1999).
Occasional finds of leather have also been made in peat bogs in Europe, including
the shoe at Buinerveen, 14C dated to 3140 ± 40 years BP (Groenman-Van Water-
ingen 2001). However, very few prehistoric finds have been made. In the Roman
period, by contrast, we suddenly find much larger amounts of leather, including a
lot of leather footwear – both shoes and sandals for civilians, and sandals with
spiked soles for soldiers (see van Driel-Murray 2001). Leather clothing and bags
(including for carrying liquids) have also been found from this period. Leather
was also used for belts, sheaths, shields, uniforms, whips and horse tack, as well as
for furniture. Leather was for example used to make handles and the seats of fold-
ing chairs, and for musical instruments. Large pieces of leather tent have even
59
Archaeological information content
been found in Alphen aan de Rijn. These applications remained more or less
unchanged in later periods, and new applications such as book covers also
appeared in the Middle Ages. Remains of parchment from this period are only
rarely found.
Bog bodies are also found in the Netherlands, Germany, Denmark, Britain and
Ireland. These are human bodies buried in upland peat, where they underwent a
kind of natural tanning process under the influence of organic acids in the peat.
In some cases, some of their clothing has been preserved (van der Sanden 1990).
Most of the bodies date from between around 1500 BC and the 17th century AD
(van der Sanden 1990, van der Plicht et al. 2004).
Archaeological leather has been found almost exclusively in water-saturated soil
layers. Prehistoric leather is extremely rare, probably because it was not really
tanned at that time (only smoked) and was thus much more vulnerable to degra-
dation. Leather finds from all periods are rare in rural areas, the bodies and arte-
facts found in peat bogs being the most notable examples. However, Roman set-
tlements (Cuijk, Alphen aan de Rijn) and Medieval town centres (Den Bosch,
Dordrecht, Amsterdam) yield large quantities of leather. Wells, cesspits, canals
and wet pits sometimes yield a wealth of material, mainly waste and lost posses-
sions. Shipwrecks from various periods also contain leather, in the form of crew-
men’s shoes and all kinds of objects.
Outside wet areas, fragments of leather may be preserved if they have been in
contact with metals in the soil. Iron rust can preserve an impression of leather,
and copper curbs degradation, preserving fragments of the leather itself. This is
particularly important in burials with grave gifts.
Leather objects and remains of skin contain a wide range of archaeologically rel-
evant information, relating to many areas in archaeology.
First, there is the raw material: since leather is made of skins, the presence of cer-
tain types of leather gives us information about the animals whose skins were
used to make it. Firstly, the species. Microscopic surface features generally allow
us to determine which animal leather is made from (figure 20). This therefore tells
us what wild and domesticated animals were available. It is sometimes also pos-
sible to gain an indication of the animal’s age, the difference between cow- and
calfskin being particularly easy to distinguish (figure 20A, B).
In theory, it should also be possible to recognise certain pathologies in leather,

though no studies have yet been conducted into this aspect of leather. However,
wounds caused by parasites have been identified. This kind of study can also be

Leather
20 Surface (skin side) of various types of modern leather. The differences in hair pattern are
clearly visible. A: Cow B: Calf C: Goat D: Sheep E: Pig F: Reindeer.
performed on bog bodies. In several cases researchers have been able to determine
the individual’s general state of health (e.g. the presence of certain parasites) and
the cause of death. In exceptional cases, the fingerprints or papillary patterns on
other parts of the body can still be seen (Van der Sanden 1990; figure 21).
Furthermore, a recent study has shown that mitochondrial DNA can be extracted
from Medieval cow’s leather (Vuissoz et al. 2007). Nuclear DNA is damaged by
61
A B
21A, B Fingerprint (A) and papillary pattern on the palm (B) of the right hand of the first
bog body found at Wijster (N1901/VI 1).
tanning, but the presence of mitochondrial DNA in leather opens up the possibil-
ity of exploring all kinds of aspects of cattle or hunted animals whose hides were
turned into leather. This type of research is still in its infancy, however. It would
probably be possible in only a small proportion of bog bodies, furthermore, as
DNA decomposes in most acidic peat soils (Van der Sanden 1990).
In more general terms, given that leather is an organic material, it is suitable for
14C dating. However, this requires special pre-processing, as any organic mole-
cules from the soil that have penetrated the leather have to be removed to allow a
reliable dating to be made (Van der Plicht et al. 2004).
Then we have the processing and working of leather. All leather undergoes some
type of processing (tanning) to keep it supple, protect it from decay and make it
more resistant to water (see above). Which method has been used can be deter-
mined in various ways. A simple test can establish whether leather has been
tanned with tannin (Van Driel-Murray 2002). After leather has been produced
from skin, it can be worked to produce a range of objects. The presence of waste
from this process (e.g. pieces of waste leather left over from making shoes) might
suggest the presence of craftsmen or industries devoted to making certain
objects.
For archaeologists, the most striking source of information in leather comes in
the form of objects, i.e. the type of object for which leather was used. Tent leather,
scabbards, book covers, etc. all give information on the society that left behind the
remains. Clothing (particularly footwear) and objects are the most common (see
above). Since clothing and footwear are made to fit, they tell us about the size of
the user. Research on the leather footwear from the Roman barge De Meern 1, for
example, suggests that the ship was crewed by at least two people, probably a skip-
per and his wife, and possibly also a cabin boy (van Driel-Murray 2007). It should
be noted, however that, like textile (Chapter 5), leather would often be used sev-

Leather
22A-C Decorated knife

sheath from Den Bosch.
B, C: Enlargements of
parts of A with clearly
visible decoration
(carved and partly
embossed). Collection
of the Den Bosch Office
of Archaeology,
Monuments and Historic
Buildings. Photos
RESTAURA.
A
B C
eral times. A leather panel from a worn jacket might for instance be recycled as a
chair seat, book cover, glove or even a hinge.
Besides the utilitarian aspect of an object, archaeologists are also interested in the
typology. Shoes, in particular, are particularly subject to trends. The various types
of shoes that might occur in an archaeological context therefore indicate the age
of the leather and any other objects found in the same context (see for example
Goubitz, 2001 for a typology of shoes).
Leather can also be used as a basis for artistic or ritual expression, or various types
of decoration. Firstly, the leather itself might be decorated – scored, carved etc.
(see for example figure 22). Patterns or other decoration would also be embossed
into leather using hot or cold stamps (figure 23). Paint remains are also occasion-
ally found on leather. Often, only part of the paint has been preserved, such as red
pigment, or lead white. The use of gold leaf to decorate (gild) leather is very rare
(Goubitz 2001).
63
A B
23A, B Two examples of leather with embossed decoration. A: Deformed knife or dagger
sheath, Collection of the Den Bosch Office of Archaeology, Monuments and Historic Build-
ings. B: Book binding of wood and leather, decorated with portraits and leather bands.
Collection of the Office of Cultural Heritage, Breda City Council. Photos RESTAURA.
4.4.1 Degradation of leather in the soil

Since leather consists largely of proteins, it is a highly desirable source of food for
microorganisms. Its high nitrogen content also makes it attractive. The main
form of degradation affecting leather is therefore probably caused by microor-
ganisms. Although we do not know as much about the degradation of leather as
we do about degradation processes in wood and bone (see Chapter 2,3), it is likely
that fungi are the most aggressive type of microorganism at work in leather. By
analogy with wood and bone, we can assumed that fungal decay occurs only in
the presence of oxygen. Fungi also seem to be capable of decaying both hides and
‘properly’ tanned leather. This is probably the main reason why leather is rarely
found in oxygen-rich environments.
In anaerobic conditions, skin can be decayed by bacteria. Such processes of decay
are in fact encouraged in the processing of waste from the leather industry
(Dhalyan 2007). Untanned leather is therefore very rare in the archaeological
record (Cronyn 2001). The only exceptions are remains of leather that have been
tanned ‘naturally’, as it were, by the organic compounds that occur in upland peat
(Stankiewicz 1997).
Tanned leather can remain preserved under anaerobic conditions. It is, however,
subject to some damage as the tannin leaches out and the proteins partly decay.

Leather
This form of decay is particularly pronounced at higher, alkaline pH levels, when

alkaline hydrolysis can occur. As a result, the leather becomes soft and weak. As
Groenman-Van Wateringen indicate (1999; note 2), this does not however mean
that leather is preserved only in acidic burial environments.
4.4.2 Chemical processes in archaeological leather

While archaeological leather is buried in the soil, all types of minerals can form
from components dissolved in the groundwater. The presence of calcium com-
pounds might be the result of earlier treatment with unslaked chalk, but iron
compounds will most probably largely have formed after burial. The main com-
pounds that can occur in leather are:
Iron-tannin compounds. These are created by a reaction between unbonded tan-

nin in the leather and iron in the environment. This compound is black and
makes the leather stiff (Strzelczyk 1997).
Iron-sulphur compounds. Iron sulphides can be created in an anaerobic, sulphate-
rich environment (particularly, but not exclusively, in seawater). The most com-
mon are pyrite (FeS2) and Mackinawite (FeS). These compounds oxidise when
exposed to oxygen, creating sulphuric acid, a major cause for concern in leather
from a marine context (Mardikain et al. 2004).
Soaps. A reaction between the fat in the leather and calcium, magnesium, iron or
other bivalent cations from soil pore water can create insoluble soaps. This can
happen in the soil, though precipitation of this material at the surface of leather
is in fact a well-known phenomenon during conservation (Zink 2004).
4.4.3 Special cases

It will be clear from the above that one of the key requirements for the preserva-
tion of leather is that it should be buried in a water-saturated, low-oxygen, acidic
environment. Nevertheless, in extreme cases leather can remain preserved even if
it is not buried in such conditions. This rarely occurs in the Netherlands, however.
It is most common in Arctic conditions, deserts, or salt mines, for example. What
we do find in the Netherlands, however, is fragments of leather preserved in the
soil because of their proximity to metal objects (just like textile; Chapter 5). When
iron corrodes, an impression of the object is eventually left in iron compounds
(the leather itself disappears). If copper corrodes nearby, fragments of the leather
itself are likely to remain, thanks to the antimicrobial effect of dissolved copper
(see figure 24).
65
Loss of information
A B
24A, B Examples of leather, fragments of which have remained preserved due to the
influence of metals. Roman burial at Bocholtz, details of knife sheath with straps. A: Leather
impregnated with iron (left) and textile. The leather can still be recognised as calfskin,
though it in fact consists entirely of iron compounds. B: Copper or bronze buckle with
leather from the strap still attached. The leather has been preserved thanks to the antimi-
crobial effect of dissolved copper.
4.4.4 Archaeological practice

Processes in the soil and the transformations they cause mean that archaeological
leather no longer has the properties of ‘fresh’ leather. It is no longer water-resist-
ant, and is also sensitive to changes in moisture, which can cause irreversible
changes in the material. When archaeological leather dries out, it shrinks and
hardens, leading to irreparable damage. Shrinkage can also change the shape of
the artefact and cause cracks. Apart from this, the leather will often have lost
much of its texture, and therefore also its strength. The stitches in stitched and
sewn objects often decay, allowing the pieces to become separated.
The first stage in the degradation of leather objects involves loss of colour (it
becomes black) and any dye, which generally disappears very quickly. This also
applies to some extent to parchment. The iron gall ink used on parchment does
sometimes survive long-term burial, however (see figure 25A). Stitches disappear
from sewn objects very rapidly, particularly if they are made of plant material.
This does not represent any great loss of information, however, as the holes will
still be visible. Any unbonded tannin will also be lost at this early stage. Untanned
or smoked leather will decay very rapidly, except if it is in peat, where it will be
naturally tanned. Properly tanned leather can remain preserved in the right burial
conditions, though some information will generally also be lost. Surface features,
in particular, which allow the object to be typed, may be worn away during use or

Leather
become hidden under material that becomes encrusted on the surface (see
figure 25B). Often, it is not possible to remove this material without damaging the
leather, as it will have lost a lot of its structure in the soil.
Ongoing degradation will eventually result in the leather losing its texture, even-
tually becoming a formless, slimy mass. All archaeological information will then
disappear along with the object. It is not entirely clear how long this takes, but
under poor conditions complete degradation will probably occur in a matter of
years rather than centuries.

Leather is highly susceptible to damp and changes in moisture content. If leather

is in an oxygen-rich layer of the soil, it will quickly be damaged by microorgan-
isms, sometimes in just a few weeks. Like wood and bone, leather will probably
decay less quickly in anaerobic conditions, though the process will not necessar-
ily be halted altogether. Human interventions that pose a risk to leather at
archaeological sites include lowering the water table (drainage, water abstraction
etc.). Parameters that will need to be monitored at any site where leather is one
of the main constituents include groundwater level, oxygen level (or redox) and
moisture levels. Specific circumstances with enhanced preservation conditions
(cesspits and the presence of metal objects) are so local and specific that they
cannot be taken into account in the form of extra measures or monitoring tech-
niques.
A B
25A, B Impact of degradation on archaeological information A: Fragment of parchment.
The ink has largely disappeared, though some faint lettering can still be seen. B: Highly
worn cow’s leather from the inside of a Medieval shoe sole. The surface is so worn that,
while a few strands of the underside are still visible, the surface pattern has entirely
disappeared.
67
Handling leather during excavation
4.7 Handling leather during excavation
Archaeological leather is exposed to several risks during excavation. The first is

that it will not be recognised and will simply be dug up. This is particularly the
case in poorly sorted organic deposits like peat. It is therefore important to focus
on this type of material when excavating in a wet context, particularly in cesspits,
wells or waste layers for example.
Archaeological leather is often very weak when it is found, and it therefore tears
easily, causing parts of it to be lost. It is not only weak, however, it is also very
susceptible to damage if it dries out. This triggers irreversible processes that make
the leather hard and cause irregular shrinkage. This can also lead to tears, and
objects may become extremely deformed. A second risk is that damage will occur
because the material is treated too roughly, or is allowed to (partially) dry out.
Leather should therefore be protected during excavation work by covering it and
keeping it wet. If leather is so decayed that it cannot possibly be removed, the find
must be well documented, preferably by an archaeological leather specialist.
Leather objects often consist of a large number of pieces that were once stitched
together but have now become separated. Objects may fragment at the moment
of deposition, or as the result of degradation processes in the soil. If the leather is
sufficiently preserved to be removed from the site (i.e. it is still strong enough), it
is still advisable to remove it in a block, thus preventing smaller sections from
being lost. See for example figure 26: only by collecting all pieces carefully was it
possible to reconstruct the form and type of the object.
Finally, other materials will also have been incorporated into many leather objects,
or they will occur in association with other materials. It is important that this is
taken into account during excavation work. In cases where the leather has com-
pletely or partially decayed, in particular, other materials that have been preserved
may still provide information, provided they are removed and handled correctly.
This applies, for example, to Roman period shoes with spiked soles. The patterns
made by the spikes can help determine the type and the style. They can still be
recorded if the leather is decayed but the spikes are in their original position.
Good recording means that the shoe size and pattern type can still be determined.
If this is not taken into account and the spikes are individually removed, the
archaeologist will be left with nothing more than a bag of spikes, and no further
information about the shoe or who wore it (Van Driel-Murray 2001).
Generally speaking, most risks to leather during excavation can be countered by:
– keeping the material covered and wet while it is in the soil
– removing it in blocks as far as possible
– bringing in experts at an early stage to remove the material in blocks and thor-
oughly record the find in the field.

Leather
B
26A, B Illustrations of leather objects and handling during excavation. A: Fragments of
leather from an ornate scabbard or dagger sheath. The object also contains wooden and
iron parts. Collection of the Office of Cultural Heritage, Breda City Council. B: The same
object after conservation and restoration. Full restoration was possible only because all
fragments were recovered. Photos RESTAURA.
69
5 Textile
D.J. Huisman, I. Joosten, J. Nientker
5.1.1 Introduction
Textiles are materials made from fibres that have been processed so that they can
be woven, knit, knotted, spun, crocheted etc. into a piece of cloth. They also
include rope and nets, for example. Plant material that has not been pre-proc-
essed, such as bark, reeds and woven grasses, is not considered here, as it can more
appropriately be classified as botanical material. Unprocessed and non-fibrous
materials of animal origin (fur, leather, tendon) have also been excluded.
Archaeological textiles consist of natural fibres, either from plants, such as flax
and hemp, or from animals, such as wool and silk. Flax, hemp, wool and silk are
the main types of textile found in subsurface archaeology in Northwest Europe.
Other materials, such as jute and cotton, may potentially occur (at sites from the
17th century onwards), though none have been found to date. A brief description
of flax, hemp, wool and silk is given below, after which several techniques used to
dye textiles are discussed.
5.1.2 The structure and composition of fibres

Fibres are made of polymers – long molecules made up of a series of smaller iden-
tical molecules. However, despite its elongated structure, a polymer molecule is
not yet a fibre. In fibres, individual polymers are ordered into an even longer
structure. They can have one of two structures: either sections of the polymer are
highly ordered, forming a very regular structure known as a crystalline structure
(although they are not actually crystals); or sections of the polymer are not
ordered (amorphous). Crystalline sections of polymer produce stiff, inflexible
fibres with more mechanical strength. Amorphous sections give more flexible and
elastic fibres (Kars & Smit 2003).
The flexibility of the amorphous parts of a fibre means that substances that can
cause them to deteriorate, including water, acids, bases and enzymes can pene-
trate them fairly easily. This generally makes less crystalline fibres more suscepti-
ble to degradation than similar, more crystalline fibres. The difference in the rate
of degradation of the amorphous and crystalline sections of a polymer makes the
71
crystallinity of a fibre (expressed as a percentage) an important factor (Timar-

Balaszy & Eastop 1998, Kars & Smit 2003).
Both animal and plant fibres were used in the past to make textiles. Both have
crystalline and amorphous sections. However, their composition differs greatly.
Vegetable fibres consist mainly of cellulose, a polymer of glucose. Animal fibres
consist mainly of proteins, polymers of amino acids (Boersma 2000). These pro-
teins can have various properties, depending on (1) what amino acids they are
made of, (2) the proportions in which the amino acids occur, (3) the order in
which they occur in the polymer and (4) the form of the extra bonds in the poly-
mer in the form of ‘sulphur bridges’ (Timar-Balaszy & Eastop 1998).
5.1.3 Flax
Flax (Linum usitatissimum) is specially cultivated for its fibres, and also for lin-
seed oil production. After it has flowered, the entire plant is uprooted in order to
obtain the longest possible fibres. The fibres consist of bundles of cells whose
walls are thickened with cellulose. Besides cellulose, the flax fibre also consists of
hemicellulose (16%), pectin (3%), lignin (2.5%), proteins (3%), wax and fats
(1.5%) and minerals (1%) (Boersma 2000).
The processing of flax to produce textile involves several stages: step 1 is to sepa-
rate the stems and bolls, a process known as rippling. The second step, known as
retting, involves removing the adhesive pectin, thus releasing the fibre from the
central bast. Step 3 is to break the straw, and in step 4 the fibre is finally separated
from the straw (scotching). The fibres are then combed and spun into threads, or
flax yarn, which is used to make linen (figure 27). Short fibres are twisted together,
and at least three threads are spun together to produce string or rope.
A B
27A, B Example of archaeological linen. A: Macroscopic image B: Backscattered electron
(BE) image, 20 keV, 30 Pa. Sail; the surface of the fibre is smooth, the textile is highly
degraded and soiled. Image Ineke Joosten, ICN.

Textile
5.1.4 Hemp
Hemp (Cannabis sativa) is also generally grown for its fibre, though there are
varieties that are grown for other (illegal) purposes. Hemp can grow very tall, so
it can potentially produce very long fibres. They are however stiffer than the fibres
from flax, for example (Barber 1991). Hemp fibre is 67% cellulose, 16.1% hemi-
cellulose, 0.8% pectin and 3.3% lignin (Timar-Balaszy & Eastop 1998).
The processing of hemp into fibres is virtually identical to that for flax. Although
hemp can be used to make clothes, it is mainly used for other purposes. The
strength and stiffness of the fibres make it ideal for making rope and canvas for
use on boats and ships, and also for making tents.
5.1.5 Wool
Wool is the collective term for the hairs that form the coat of various animals. The
most commonly used wool in Europe comes from sheep. The use of horse hair,
for example, has also been archaeologically documented, however (see below).
Wool fibres consist mainly of proteins, particularly keratin. They have scales,
which cause them to hook together if they are laid alongside each other. This
makes wool highly suited to making textiles (figure 28).
Sheep are generally shorn in the spring. The wool is then carded using combs to
remove most of the impurities from it. The fibres can then be spun into threads,
which can be made into textiles by means of weaving, knitting, crocheting, knot-
ting etc. Sometimes, wool is felted rather than spun, by rubbing it in a warm
damp environment. This causes the fibres to swell and the scales to open. As a
result of the rubbing, the scales link together. As they dry the fibres shrink again,
fixing the scales in position and producing felt. In the past, various substances
were added to wool to make the environment alkaline and stimulate the felting
process, including soap, whey and urine (Boersma 2000, Barber 1991).
A B
28A, B Example of archaeological wool. A: Macroscopic image B: BE image 20 keV,
magnification 750x. The scales characteristic of wool are clearly visible. Image
Ineke Joosten, ICN.
73
A B
29A, B Example of archaeological silk (lace). A: Macroscopic image B: BE image 20 keV,
30 Pa. The surface of the fibre is smooth, the textile has been soiled by material from the
burial environment. Image Ineke Joosten, ICN.
5.1.6 Silk
Silk is a fibrous product made by the larvae or pupae of the silk moth (Bombyx
mori). Larvae spin a cocoon of silk around themselves in which they metamor-
phose into moths. The silk thread consists of filaments (fibroins) and a protein
(seracin) which binds them. Fibroins and seracin harden when exposed to air
(Timar-Balaszy & Eastop1998, Boersma 2000).
In silk production the pupae are killed before they can emerge from the cocoon,
otherwise they would break the threads. Killing the pupa allows the full length of
the silk thread to be unravelled. It can then be used without further processing to
weave a thin, shiny fabric (Boersma 2000, Barber 1991) (figure 29).
5.1.7 Dyes
Various techniques were used to change the colour of textiles. Sometimes the
material was dyed before it was woven into cloth. It could then be used to weave
patterns used for decorating garments or to produce tapestries. In other cases, a
piece of woven textile would be dyed. Organic dyes made from plants, animals
and minerals were used until the late nineteenth century. The first synthetic dyes,
made from coal tar, came on the market in around 1880. Organic dyes fall into
three categories: direct dyes, vat dyes and mordant dyes (Boersma 2000).
Direct dyes can be used on unprepared textile, but the colours will often run or
fade. Examples of direct dyes include the yellow colouring obtained from the tur-
meric root (Curcuma longa), and dyes made of chestnut and red cabbage (Boersma
2000).
Vat dyes are insoluble in water, but they can be made soluble in a basic environ-
ment by means of chemical processing. The textile is dipped in the dissolved dye
and then exposed to air. Though the colour is not very fast, it will not fade. The

Textile
best known vat dye is indigo, which comes from the plants of the genus Indigofera
(from the Fabaceae family). Woad (Isatis tinctoria L.), which has been used in
Europe for centuries, is from the Brassicaceae family. The dye from the murex, or
purpura, is also a vat dye. The murex is a sea snail found in the Mediterranean and
off the west coast of South America. It is the most expensive dye ever to have
existed, as a huge number of snails were needed to produce just a small amount
of dye (Boersma 2000).
Some dyes – mordant dyes – bond to the textile only if the fibres are first processed
using a mordant such as a solution of alum or tannin. When the textile is then
dipped in the dye bath, the dye will bond to the metal salts in the mordant. The
type of mordant used directly influences the final tone of the dye. Examples of
natural mordant dyes include the reds obtained from the insect families kermes
(Kermes vermilio) and cochineal (Dactylopius coccus (costa)), and from the root of
the madder (Rubia tinctorum L.). Yellow mordant dyes were obtained from weld
(Reseda luteola) (Boersma 2000).
5.2.1 Use of various raw materials

As indicated above, in this series we differentiate between textile (and rope) made
from fibres, and material woven or knotted from unprocessed plant material.
Reports of the oldest textile finds are often of the latter type. This applies, for
example, to the buttons and ropes made of bark or plant fibres found in a Meso-
lithic context, as at Hardinxveld-Giessendam Polderweg (5500-500 BC) (Louwe
Kooijmans 2001).
Flax was cultivated by the first farmers in Northwest Europe (approx. 7000 years
ago). Carbonised linseeds (seeds of the flax plant) have been found at settlements
of the Linear Bandkeramik culture. Domesticated sheep and goats also first occurred
in this period. Impressions and remains of linen have been found at several Ger-
man sites from this period. Spindles and cards have also been found (Lüning 2005).
One can assume that wool and hair were used, though this cannot always be proved.
Notably, however, Ötzi the Iceman – whose fully clothed body lay frozen in the Ital-
ian Alps for some 5100-5350 years – wore clothing made only from fur (leather
with the hair still attached) and woven grass. Finely spun wool was however used to
attach the feathers to his arrows. No woven material was found on him. It is, how-
ever, likely that his clothing and equipment were specially designed for use at high
altitude (Spindler 1994). Some of the oldest traces of textiles come from the Hoge
Vaart excavations in the Netherlands (5300-4300 BC), which include baskets or
circular mats of plant material held together by thread made of a plant fibre. Only
impressions remained, however (Hamburg et al. 2001, Peeters 2007; figure 30).
75
Presence in the archaeological record
30 Impressions of mats
made of rolls of grass or
reeds stitched together
with processed fibres,
probably from tree bark;
c. 5700-6000 years old
(early Neolithic)
(Hamburg et al. 2001,
Peeters 2007). The mats
were originally at least a
metre in diameter. Hoge
Vaart (Flevoland); now at
the Nieuwland Heritage
Centre (NLE) in Lelystad.
Since it is difficult to tell hemp and flax fibres apart, it is not clear when hemp was
first used in our region. Hemp seeds have been found in some Linear Band-
keramik settlements (Barber 1991). If these plants were indeed cultivated for their
fibres, this would mean that hemp had been used as long as flax. It is not, however,
clear whether it was grown for other purposes. Hemp is described in classical
antiquity (by Herodutus and Pliny the Elder, for example). Herodotus says that
hemp could be used for clothing (and that it can barely be distinguished from
linen), while Pliny refers to it mainly as a material for making rope (Humphrey et
al. 1998). In our region, it was probably used in the flat-bottomed barges used for
river transport in the Roman period (see for example figure 31).
Cultivated silk was originally made mainly in China. In classical antiquity it was
transported to the countries around the Mediterranean along the silk route. For a
long time it was a luxury item, highly prized by the upper classes. Around AD 550
some Byzantine monks managed to smuggle some silkworms out of China, after

Textile
31 Fragment of rope from the Roman ship De Meern 1. The rope is some 45 cm long, with
a knot at the end. The average thickness is 1.5 cm by 0.5 cm. The rope will original have been
round in cross-section, with a diameter of approx. 1 cm. Determination has shown that it is
made of plant fibres, possibly hemp. The rope has broken into ten pieces as a result of
degradation. The fibres are in poor condition and disintegrate even further when touched.
which silk was produced in Southeast Europe (Barber 1991, Humphrey et al. 1998).
Well-preserved silk remains have been found in cesspits and in several shipwrecks.
5.2.2 Applications
Plant and animal fibres were used for many applications. Since textiles are only
rarely found, in many cases it is impossible to say when they were first used.
Woven textiles were of course first used for making clothes. In our region, this
probably coincided with the start of agriculture in the Neolithic. They were prob-
ably also used for making bedding. More recently, other applications were added:
firstly, woven textile was used in shipping. The first known ships that needed a sail
(and rigging) in Northwest Europe were built in the Roman period. Examples
include the river barges with mast foot found in Zwammerdam, Woerden, Utrecht,
Vechten, Mainz and Xanten. Prior to that, we know only of vessels that were man-
ually propelled, particularly canoes. Large pieces of sail have also been found with
more recent vessels (see figure 32).
77
32 Fragment of a piece
of linen sail.
More recently (probably in the Middle Ages) textiles were used to make flags, ban-
ners and pennants. The homes and castles of the elite were adorned with tapes-
tries depicting all kinds of images in a variety of colours. And in the late Middle
Ages, painters stopped painting on wood and switched to canvas. However, none
of these applications has ever been found in an archaeological context.
As well as for clothing, plant fibres have been used since at least the early Neolithic
for making baskets, mats and packing material. In many cases, such objects will
have consisted largely of unprocessed plant material, though the finds from the
Hoge Vaart (see above) show that in certain cases, at least, they were made of
textiles (Hamburg et al. 2001, Peeters 2007; figure 4).
One important, and often overlooked use of textiles is in rope making. This mate-
rial of twined and, perhaps, braided fibres was probably very commonly used.
Large quantities of rope were needed to rig ships. Fishing nets will also have been
made of a form of textile. But string and rope were used much more widely. Every
household will have used them for a hundred-and-one applications. The earliest
rope was probably made from unprocessed plant material such as grass. It is not
clear when ‘real’ textiles were first used for the purpose. Candle wicks are also
made of textiles. The first candles would appear to date from the Roman period
(as evidenced by candle holders found among the ‘bronze hoard of Nistelrode’;
Fontijn & Jansen 2007), though they were probably used more generally from the
Middle Ages. Unfortunately, the wick is destroyed during use, so the likelihood of
any being found in an archaeological context is very small.

Textile
33 Chisel hammer from the Roman ship De Meern 1. The shaft is 30 cm long, with the
bottom 12 cm wrapped in a piece of cloth. The textile was wound around the shaft to give
the user a better grip. This is apparent from the impression of string that was wound
around the shaft (see arrows). Over the many years it lay buried in the soil the textile fibres
deteriorated to such an extent that only the structure can now be recognised, and the fibres
can no longer be determined. The textile was in poor condition and could not be removed
from the shaft for conservation. During the conservation of the chisel hammer most of the
textile was therefore lost.
One important property of textiles lies in the fact that they do not entirely lose
their value if they are damaged. Often, they will be reused for another (less valu-
able) purpose. Clothing might eventually be turned into packing material, sacks,
cleaning cloths, tool grips (figure 33) or – if it is made of plant fibres – as wicks for
oil lamps (figure 34). As a rule, however, in such cases it is not usually possible to
discern the original use.
79
34 A: Bronze oil lamp from the Roman period containing a wick made of textile (Museum
het Valkhof, lamp IIc). B: The wick consists of a piece of rolled cloth made of plant fibre.
It remained preserved in the soil thanks to the toxic effect of the copper. C: Detail of the
fragment of plant textile. D: BE image, 20 keV, 32 Pa. The fibres are smooth, and in some
cases the thickening that is characteristic of flax is visible. A layer, probably of organic
material, and particles can be seen on the textile. The presence of copper and lead in the
particles and textile has been determined by means of energy dispersive spectrometry
(EDS, Vantage, Thermo Noran). A-C: Photographs Museum het Valkhof, Nijmegen;
D: Image Ineke Joosten, ICN.
Textile finds can tell us about a variety of different techniques and cultures.
Firstly, use of materials: textile finds tell us what types of plant and animal
resources were available and used. Information on the availability of resources
could theoretically be derived from other find categories – the use of linen, for
example, on the basis of remains of flax found in Linear Bandkeramik settlements
in South Limburg. However, this conclusion cannot simply be drawn as a matter
of course. The use of other materials in textile, such as the gold thread which was
sometimes woven into the cloth (see figure 35), also falls in this category.

Textile
A B
35 A: Detail of woven gold thread in (burnt) weave. The gold threads were first wound
round thin fibres which were then worked into the fabric. Roman burial from Nijmegen
(Ulpia Noviomagus 1982, grave 483, cremation). Photograph R. Meijers, Museum
het Valkhof. B: BE image, 20 keV, 38 Pa. The hollow gold threads are clearly visible. EDS
has shown that the thread is pure gold. Image Ineke Joosten, ICN.
Secondly, the technology needed to make the raw materials into textile or rope.
First is the technology used to extract the fibre from the raw material. Then the
technology to make the thread or rope (spinning on spindles or spinning wheels,
braiding, twining), and then the various technologies used to make the actual
textile (felting, weaving, knotting, crocheting, knitting). And finally, in the pro-
duction of clothing, the technology used to make pieces of cloth into wearable
garments and to maintain, repair or alter them (sewing, darning).
Thirdly, the use of dyes to give textile a certain colour or finish. Different raw
materials were used in different periods. The dyes used can also give us informa-
tion about trade routes (Joosten & Van Bommel 2007).
Fourthly, quite apart from the technology used, textiles are an expression of cul-
ture: weaving patterns, embroidery, sewing patterns and the use of colour, though
often simple in themselves, can produce geometric or figurative designs that
directly reflects the visual culture of the time (e.g. figure 36).
Finally, in special cases, textile finds can tell us about the daily use of textiles, and
therefore also about social customs or the economic situation. Many of the textile
finds from the St. Laurenskerk in Alkmaar were beautiful, expensive outer gar-
ments that were highly worn. This has been interpreted as either negligé – old
clothing worn only in the home – used for burials or as a reflection of the sudden
onset of widespread poverty and a shortage of textiles as a result of the French
occupation and the war with England in 1795-1813 (Bitter 1999).
81
36 Example of figurative design on archaeological textile: The 10th-century Llangorse

textile was found at the Llangorse crannog (man-made island) in Llangors lake near
Brecon, SE Wales. The fabric is decorated with figurative designs that are either embroi-
dered or woven (Mumford et al. 2007, Redknap & Lane 1994. A: Fragment of the Llangors
textile and B: close-up, of this fragment showing part of the decoration. C: Sketch of the
pattern fragment in B. Images National Museum of Wales.
5.4.1 Introduction
Textiles are made mainly of organic materials that are relatively unstable. Micro-
organisms can break down cellulose into sugars; this is a simple way of obtaining
food. Proteins are probably even more susceptible to deterioration, given that
amino acids can be used directly as food. We know a lot about the deterioration
of both archaeological and non-archaeological textiles kept in museum collec-
tions, where exposure to light, mechanical load and abiotic chemical degradation

Textile
play a key role (Timar-Balaszy & Eastop 1998, Boersma 2000). In the soil, how-
ever, the decay will mainly be microbiological. The processes of decay, and there-
fore the factors that affect degradation, are different in plant and animal fibres.
5.4.2 Decay of fibres

Since plant fibres consist largely of cellulose, the first step in their decay is for the
glucose units in the polymer to become detached. This occurs readily in acidic
conditions (‘hydrolysis’; Kars & Smit 2003, Timar-Balaszy & Eastop 1998). First,
hydrolysis causes the molecules to break, which makes the material weaker. In the
event of extreme oxidation it becomes hard and brittle. If microorganisms are
active, the material might eventually disintegrate completely as the individual
glucose units are broken down by the microorganisms.
Proteins, the main component of animal fibres, have a highly complex structure
containing different types of bond. Proteins therefore decay in various ways,
including the breaking of peptide compounds and sulphur bridges, and hydroly-
sis. Acidic conditions combined with hydrolysis cause changes in form and colour
in wool, though they do not actually cause it to decay. In basic conditions, animal
fibres can however be subjected to extreme decay; in highly basic liquids (5%
NaOH) wool can dissolve completely (Kars & Smit 2003). Some bacteria and
fungi specialise in breaking down wool (Kars & Smit 2003), though they are
unlikely to occur in the soil. However, given the fact that proteins are rich in nitro-
gen, it is logical to assume that they will decompose quickly in the soil due to the
microorganisms present.
5.4.3 Factors affecting degradation
Introduction
Although we do not yet know a great deal about degradation processes in textiles
in the soil, we can nevertheless pinpoint important factors that impact on these
processes. A wide range of factors are involved, from the properties of the mate-
rial to chemical, physical and biological factors in the environment.
Moisture
Textiles from a wet, water-saturated context may be in relatively good condition
because of the absence of oxygen (see below). This occurs both at water-saturated
terrestrial sites and in shipwrecks, for example. At the other end of the spectrum,
extremely dry conditions are also very good for preserving textiles. Well-preserved
textile remains have for example been found in the Egyptian and Peruvian deserts,
and also, famously, in the salt mines at Hallstatt (Bichler et al. 2005) (figure 37).
However, such conditions seldom occur in temperate climates, as the soil usually
contains at least some moisture. The only known examples of well-preserved tex-
83
37 Green-blue textile
fragment from the Hall-
statt salt mine. Photo-
graph H. Reschreiter,
© Natural History
Museum (NHM), Vienna.
tiles in dry soils come from churches, where graves above the water table and just
below the floor of the building sometimes contain surprisingly intact textile
remains (Bitter 1999) (figure 38)
Oxygen
All textile fibres decay rapidly in the presence of oxygen, particularly if they are
damp. Though some of the degradation could be purely chemical (see above), it
is more likely that the presence of oxygen allows microbiological decay. Water-
saturated soils containing a large amount of organic material are generally oxy-
gen-poor, and are therefore the best environment in which to find textiles. A lot
of Medieval archaeological textiles come from cesspits. This is at any rate a conse-
quence of the low oxygen concentrations in a cesspit, but pH (see below) and
other specific conditions may also play a role.
pH
pH level also has an impact on the preservation of various types of fibre (see
below). Plant (cellulose) fibres decay in acidic conditions, even if no oxygen is
available. In basic conditions, on the other hand, animal (protein) fibres will be

Textile
A
38A, B Two textile finds from St. Laurenskerk in
Alkmaar. A: Outer garment with buttons and clearly
visible colour differences. B: Priest’s chasuble, which B
was stitched with copper wire or with threads of a
gold-copper alloy. The copper has corroded and now
forms a green deposit.
particularly affected. This explains why almost all the textiles from Stone-Age
Switzerland (lakeside settlements) are plant textiles, while Scandinavian finds
(bog bodies, tree-trunk coffin graves in acid soils) have yielded mainly animal
textiles (Spindler 1994).
The pH of the soil is also an important factor in the decay of dyes and organic
pigments in the soil. Colour changes in mordant dyes are usually caused by an
exchange of metal ions between the textile and the soil (Kars & Smit 2003). How-
ever, metal ions from the soil can also discolour undyed textile.
Salinity
Wool becomes less vulnerable to decay in basic conditions under the influence of
saltwater. It is not clear how this works, or whether it also applies to silk. It does
however explain why well-preserved wool is found in shipwrecks in a marine
(basic) context.
Influence of metal objects

Metal objects corroding in the soil in the immediate vicinity of textiles can help
the textile – or an impression of the textile – to remain preserved even though the
burial conditions may not be suitable (see also the chapters on iron, copper alloys,
wood and leather).
Copper dissolved in water is toxic. It therefore slows down or prevents decay by
microorganisms. As copper, bronze or brass objects decay copper is released in
solution. Textile in the soil near such objects may therefore be preserved (Cronyn
85
39 Example of decomposed textile that has left an impression in the corrosion layer of
metal (see Meijers & Willer 2007) A: Roman cavalryman’s helmet (Nijmegen). Patterns can
be seen in the corrosion layer on the helmet. B, C: Details of decoration on the helmet
made of braided or twined hair glued to a layer of horse hair. D: Reconstruction of the
decoration. Photographs Museum het Valkhof, Nijmegen.
1990, 2001). The wicks (made of pieces of textile) found in the spouts of bronze
oil lamps from the Roman period are a good example.
In other conditions, too, an impression of a textile can be produced as it is impreg-
nated with metal, or as metal oxides (corrosion products) precipitate on it. If the
textile then decays further, an impression may be left behind in metal oxides. In
this way, some of the archaeological information can remain preserved even

Textile
though the material itself is lost (Cronyn 2001). Very clear impressions of textiles
have been found in the presence of iron objects, in particular (see for example
figure 39).
Treatments to which the textile has been subject

The way in which a textile has been produced, processed and worked has a major
impact on its decay. The dying process using mordants, for example, adds all
kinds of metals that can have a damaging effect. Some of the metals added in this
process (unlike metals from copper or iron objects) are catalysts for the degrada-
tion of textiles (Joosten & Van Bommel 2007). Another example is bleaching,
which can be a very aggressive process that not only damages the material during
the process itself, but also causes it to decay further over time due to an excess of
acid (Boersma 1996).
Degradation of textiles includes a number of processes, each of which causes spe-

cific information loss.
In the first stage, textile often loses its colour. In most cases, textile in the soil will
become brownish, while the dyes often decompose or leach out. Only in excep-
tional circumstances do the colours remain. Information associated with the use of
colour rarely remains preserved, therefore. However, it is sometimes possible to
ascertain that a weave has been made of different coloured threads (since the weav-
ing pattern would not have been visible in a plain fabric; Barber 1991). Sometimes
specialist techniques (chemical analysis of the textile and surrounding soil, or elec-
tron microscopy on the textile) can be used to ascertain whether certain dying
techniques were used (Joosten & van Bommel 2007, Bichler et al. 2005).
In the second stage, the decay of textile fibres soon robs the fabric of its integrity.
This makes it difficult or – more commonly – impossible to identify the origin of
the fibres (e.g. the difference between flax and hemp). Though the weaving pat-
tern and thread thickness will initially remain recognisable, far-reaching decay
will also make this difficult.
In the third stage, the material itself actually disappears. The only thing that
remains will be impressions in corrosion material from metal objects (e.g. figure
30) or in soil material (e.g. figure 30). In these circumstances, it is often still pos-
sible to derive information about the thread thickness, weave, etc. Sometimes,
with the help of electron microscopy, one can even determine the origin of the
fibres on the basis of the fibre impressions in a corrosion layer. In this way, for
example, the layer beneath the decoration on the Roman helmet in figure 39 was
identified as being made of horse hair (Meijers & Willer 2007).
87
Handling textiles during excavation

Different types of textile require different burial environments. All are protected
in anaerobic conditions, but the pH level is also important. Some fibres are pre-
served in high pH conditions (plant fibres), while others are protected by low pH
(animal fibres). This means that, at sites where several types of textile are present,
one needs to ensure that no oxygen enters the soil, and that the pH remains sta-
ble.
Human intervention that involves lowering the water table (drainage, extraction,
etc.) can jeopardise textiles at archaeological sites. But acidification and lime
spreading (used in agriculture) can also pose a threat. Monitoring programmes
for sites containing textiles will at any rate have to include oxygen content (or
redox) and pH.
A special environment can in theory be created if archaeological deposition first
occurred in a marine (saline) environment in conditions of high pH (e.g. lime-
rich). As long as the environment remains saline, animal fibres will be protected.
If it loses its salinity, however, these fibres might be lost, as is common at standard
terrestrial sites with fresh groundwater.
Specific circumstances that enhance preservation conditions (cesspits and the
presence of copper from metal objects) are so local and specific that it is not pos-
sible to take them into account in the form of extra measures or monitoring tech-
niques.
5.7 Handling textiles during excavation
5.7.1 Risks
Archaeological textile remains are very vulnerable, and must therefore be handled
with great care. They are exposed to many risks during the process of excavation.
See Jones et al. (2007) for a more extended and comprehensive guide to the treat-
ment of archaeological textile during excavations.
Firstly, it is important that textile is recognised as such. Relatively little archaeo-
logical textile is ever excavated, largely because it is highly sensitive to degradation
in the soil (see above). However, where textile remains are preserved, what is left
is often nothing more than a piece of brownish stuff which, if one looks very care-
fully, many still display the structure of a woven or knitted garment. It will usually
have lost its colour, appearing just as muddy as the surrounding soil. Often only a
well-trained eye observing from very close quarters will be able to recognise a
quantity of small fibres in the soil as a piece of textile (see below). This means that
textile is often simply dug up without being recognised, or even seen. Character-

Textile
istically, several unique textile finds have been made more or less by chance in
material or batches of material removed for other reasons. This is true, for exam-
ple, of the textile found on the grip of a chisel hammer retrieved from the ship De
Meern 1 (figure 31) and the textile from the Hoge Vaart found in a batch of mate-
rial removed from a pottery concentration (figure 32). The same also applies to
the textile impressions that can be preserved in the corrosion layers of metal
objects (figure 39). One must therefore always be vigilant when excavating and
retrieving objects that may include textile remains.
Secondly, textiles are vulnerable to external influences from the moment they are
exposed. If one fails to take the correct measures, they will quickly decay as they
dry out and are exposed to the light. Thirdly, archaeological textile is often very
weak, deriving almost all its integrity and rigidity from the surrounding soil. Fur-
ther excavation, exposure or cleaning would most probably only cause further
damage.
5.7.2 Strategy
To protect textiles from any further degradation during excavation and retrieval,
it is highly advisable to call in a specialist as soon as they are found. In the mean-
time, avoid doing anything that might disturb the exposed textile, so do not dig
out, expose or clean it any further. Simply protect it from drying out or washing
away, and from exposure to sunlight. A specialist will be able to assess the textile
on site and produce a plan for retrieving and conserving it. Retrieving textile will
at any rate involve:
– Protecting it from the sun and from drying out.

– Quickly recording the textile in context in the field as thoroughly as possible,
using photographs and drawings.
– Removal (by or in collaboration with a specialist) of the textile in a block
(figure 40a).
– Transport to a conservation laboratory, where it can be further exposed and
conserved.
Blocks can also be x-rayed in the laboratory (figure 40b) to identify any objects
that might be associated with the textile (such as brooches, fibulae, buttons, beads,
metal thread, jewellery, trimmings etc.). The original colour can also be examined
by analysing the dye and mordant. The dye may be present not only in the textile,
as it might have washed out into the surrounding soil.
By handling textile with care, one can often save this complex, interesting and
highly vulnerable source of archaeological information.
89
Handling textiles during excavation
40 Example of a recently recovered block of material from an Iron-Age barrow. The location
is being kept secret until further research has been carried out. A: Block (probably) from a
grave in which small bronze beads or fittings were found. It was assumed that more bronze
pieces would be present that originally formed part of a richly adorned garment. Since the
position of the metal particles would have to be very precisely recorded in order to deduce
the properties of this now lost piece of textile, it was decided to remove the entire block.
B: First x-rays of a small part of the block (approx. 10 x 20 cm). It was found to contain
several hundred small bronze ornaments. Several strands can also be discerned (indicated
with arrows). One preliminary interpretation is that they formed patterns on a garment, belt
or braid. However, investigation of this find has only recently commenced, and might even-
tually lead to entirely different conclusions. This example does however illustrate very
clearly the value of removing and x-raying an entire block of material, which gives us more
information than a collection of individually retrieved metal ornaments. Photographs
J. Kempkens & T. Lupak, RESTUARA.

6 Iron
D.J. Huisman
Iron objects consist mainly of the element iron in metallic form (Fe0), with some
added carbon (C). The quantity of carbon in the metal structure partly deter-
mines the properties of the metal. Iron with a low carbon content is relatively soft
and pliable, while carbon-rich iron is hard and brittle. There will also be some
inclusions in the metal consisting of slag material – molten rock, oven wall and/
or flux (which is added to lower the melting temperature during production).
The quantity will depend on the production method.
A distinction is drawn between wrought iron (<0.1% C, fibrous structure due to
inclusions of slag material), steel (0.2 – 2% C iron-carbon alloy; contains not only
Fe but also FeC3) and cast iron (2 – 4% C) (Selwyn 2004).
Iron objects first appeared at the beginning of the Iron Age (as the name sug-
gests), which occurred at different times in different parts of the world. Iron con-
tinues to be found up to the modern era. Over this period, the use of iron became
increasingly common in many different types of object, from tools (axes, chisels,
saws, scissors) and weapons (swords, spearheads, shield bosses, helmets) to con-
nective parts (nails, cramps, clamps, barrel hoops), building materials (window
frames, fencing, wall clamps), kitchen equipment (pans, jugs, spoons, knives,
hooks), fittings (wheel hubs, horseshoes, belt fittings), jewellery etc.
The appearance and external dimensions of an object give an initial idea of its
type and possible use. Since, in many objects, the type changes over time, the form
can also give us information about an object’s relative age and – sometimes – its
origin. Detailed study of the surface can provide information about how the
object was manufactured and (if there are signs of wear) how it was used. The
91
microstructure of the metal also gives us information about manufacture and

use. For example, iron that has cooled slowly consists of relatively large crystals,
and is therefore fairly brittle. Heating the iron and then plunging it in water cre-
ates smaller crystals, making the metal less brittle. By taking small samples, pol-
ishing and analysing them under a microscope, one can see whether a metal object
underwent this kind of treatment.
The chemical composition of iron objects is a potential source of additional
information. Analysis of the carbon and phosphorus (C and P) content can indi-
cate the type of iron alloy, and whether a deliberate attempt was made to achieve
a certain composition. Trace element analysis of the metal and (in particular) the
slag inclusions can potentially give us information about the ore used. This is also
problematic, however, as the chemical composition of slag inclusions changes
during each stage of processing (reheating and forging into an object). A flux is
often added during production that may appear in the iron as a slag inclusion and
mix with other inclusions. Slag inclusions in objects that have undergone little
processing are therefore more indicative than those in objects that have under-
gone extensive processing.
6.4.1 Introduction
Iron is stable in the burial environment in its metallic form (Fe0). Only com-
pounds in which iron occurs in its bivalent or trivalent form (Fe2+ and Fe3+) are
stable. The transformation from Fe0 to Fe2+ or Fe3+
Fe0 → Fe2+ + 2 e–
and the following step

Fe2+ → Fe3+ + e–
are oxidation processes. In other words, the iron atom loses several electrons.
Something has to reduce – gain electrons – by way of a counter-reaction (this is
an electron acceptor). Substances that can do this include:
Oxygen: [O2 + 4e– + 2 H2O → 4OH–]
Sulphate: [SO42– + 8e– + 5 H2O → HS– + 9 OH–]
Water*: [2H2O + 2e– → H2 + 2 OH–]
Acid*: [2H+ + 2e– → H2 ]
* The reduction of water to form hydrogen probably occurs only in an alkaline environment; in an
acidic environment, H+ is reduced. However, these are in essence the same reactions.

Iron
Since some water is always present in the soil – with the exception of arid or semi-
arid areas – the availability of oxygen and sulphate determines which reduction
reaction occurs. Each reduction reaction causes a different form of corrosion
layer and a different degree and type of material degradation. Soils can be charac-
terised as follows:
1. Oxygen-rich (oxic)
Soils or soil layers that are not saturated with water for at least part of the year,
allowing air to penetrate, making oxygen available. Soils which, though water-satu-
rated, have pore water containing oxygen also fall in this group. It also includes all
ploughsoil, all well-drained soil layers and soils with oxygen-rich infiltrating water.
2. Anoxic (reduced), sulphate-rich

Soils or soil layers that are permanently water-saturated and contain no dissolved
oxygen in their pore water, which is rich in sulphate. This is common in marine
sediments, and also in areas where saline, reduced groundwater wells up.
3. Anoxic (reduced), sulphate-poor

Soils or soil layers that are permanently water-saturated and contain no oxygen or
sulphate in their pore water, particularly soil layers that lie below the deepest
water table (freshwater). The groundwater is either reduced seepage or infiltra-
tion water in which the oxygen was broken down in the soil layers above.
O2
41 Schematic represen- Transport of anions
tation of iron corrosion Cl- ect.
in an oxygen-rich O2 + 4e- + 2H2O -> 4OH-
environment; classical Fe3+ + 2H2O -> FeOOH + 3H+
model. 2Fe3+ + 3H2O -> Fe2O3+ 6H+
Fe2+ -> Fe3++ e-

“Blister”
Fe2+ + 2Fe3+ + 4H2O -> Fe3O4 + 8H+
Fe0+ -> Fe2+ + 2e
Mixture of oxides, hydroxides and soil

Original surface
Magnetite
Metallic iron with dissolution cavities
93
6.4.2 Oxygen-rich (oxic) environment

When iron objects come into contact with oxygen the iron oxidises, and the oxy-
gen reduces as a counter-reaction. This form of degradation prompts a complex
series of reactions. Until recently, it was assumed that this proceeded as shown in
figure 41, with iron being oxidised to Fe2+ on the inside, according to the reaction
shown above. The counter-reaction (reduction of oxygen) took place on the out-
side of the object. Electrons would thus be produced on the inside and consumed
on the outside, being transported from one reaction site to the other in the form
of a small electrical current passing through the iron. The Fe2+ ions formed on the
inside would dissolve, after which they would diffuse to the outside of the object.
There, they would be further oxidised to Fe3+, once again with oxygen reduction
as the counter-reaction. As a rule, the Fe3+ would then be deposited in the form of
iron oxides or oxyhydroxides, according to the following reaction:
2Fe3+ + 4H2O → 2FeOOH + 6H+ (creation of goethite, lepidocrocite
or – with inclusion of Cl–-akaganite) or
2Fe3+ + 3H2O → Fe2O3 + 6H+ (creation of haematite or maghemite)
These precipitation reactions have a strongly acidifying effect (production of H+).

A mineral containing both Fe2+ and Fe3+ (magnetite) then formed on the original
surface:
Fe2+ + 2Fe3+ +4H2O → Fe3O4 + 8 H+
Quartz
grain
METAL Dense Product Layer

(M) (DPL)
Transformed Soil
Medium (S)
(TM)
42 Schematic description of the corrosion system on an archaeological iron buried in soil.
M: metal, SI: Slag Inclusions, DPL: Dense Product Layer, TM: Transformed Medium, S: Soil.
Reproduced with permission from Neff et al. (2007) D.Neff, E. Vega, P. Dillmann &
M. Descostes, 2007, Contribution of iron archaeological artefacts to the estimation of aver-
age corrosion rates and the long-term corrosin mechanisms of low-carbon steel buried in
soil. In: P. Dillmann, G. Béranger, P. Piccardo & H. Matthiesen, Corrosion of metallic heritage
artefacts. Investigation, conservation and prediction for long-term behaviour, European
Federation of Corrosion Publications Number 48, Woodhead Publishing Ltd. Cambridge,
ISBN-13: 978-1-84569-239-1 pp. 41-76.

Iron
The idea was that, as a result of these processes, the surface of the original object
would converted to blue-black magnetite. The soil material around the object
would then form a concretion with the FeOOH – and Fe2O3 – minerals.
Recently, thanks to further research on the corrosion layers of iron objects, we

have arrived at a different interpretation of this process (Neff et al. 2005, 2007).
The most recent model of oxic iron corrosion distinguishes between four layers
(Figure 42). From the inside out these are: the metal, the ‘dense product layer’, the
‘transformed medium’ and the soil. The ‘dense product layer’ generally consists of
goethite (FeOOH), with inclusions of other minerals, such as magnetite,
maghemite, siderite, calcite, and compounds with phosphorus and chlorine.
Fe: 70 - 75 mass%*
A O: 25 - 30 mass%* B
α - Fe2O3, FeCO3
(Crack)
α - FeOOH, Fe3O4**
Quartz Fe3O4 / γ - Fe2O3 mix** crack Fe: 30 - 60 mass%*
M DPL TM M DPL TM
P: 1 mass%* P: 60 mass%* Calcite and α - FeOOH** Ca**

Fe: 60 mass%* O: 40 mass%* goethite**
O: 39 mass%* P: 17 mass%*
Magnetite**
Fe: mass 48%*
O: 33 mass%*
43 Schematic view of the DPL on A: Montreuil FeCO3** α - FeOOH** α - FeOOH**
en Caux, B: Cabaret and Montbaron, C: Avrilly,

* EPMA and/or EDS, ** µXRD and/or µRaman.
Reproduced with permission from Neff et al.
(2007) D.Neff, E. Vega, P. Dillmann &
M. Descostes, 2007, Contribution of iron archae- M DPL TM
ological artefacts to the estimation of average
corrosion rates and the long-term corrosin
mechanisms of low-carbon steel buried in soil.
In: P. Dillmann, G. Béranger, P. Piccardo &
H. Matthiesen, Corrosion of metallic heritage FeCO3** Crack
Fe3O4 / γ - Fe2O3 mix**
artefacts. Investigation, conservation and pre- β - FeOOH**
C1: 2 - 10 mass%* CaCO **
diction for long-term behaviour, European 3
Federation of Corrosion Publications Number 48, Fe: 38 mass%*

P: 4 - 11 mass%*
Woodhead Publishing Ltd. Cambridge, ISBN-13: O: 28 - 32 mass%*
978-1-84569-239-1 pp. 41-76. C Ca: 3 - 7 mass%*
95
Which of these minerals and compounds actually forms within the corrosion
crust depends on the soil environment, and will differ from one location to
another (see figure 43 for examples). Sometimes, the object acquires a marbled
appearance as magnetite is deposited in parallel cracks. The model of this struc-
ture assumes that the oxidation of metallic iron and the reduction of oxygen
occur at the boundary between the metal and the dense product layer, with the
dissolving of reaction products and diffusion processes distributing the minerals
as described above (figure 44).
As a result of the above corrosion processes, rust is deposited in the soil around
the original object (‘transformed medium’). In some cases, the crust will be firm,
while in others it will be soft or crumbly. It looks more like a patch of rust in the
soil than an actual crust or concretion. The surface of the original object – and
therefore its external dimensions – remains preserved in the form of the bound-
ary between the corrosion production with and without soil components (fig-
ure 45A). Around this concretion one sometimes finds a thin crust of lime, or
lime cemented with soil material (figure 45B). Sometimes, hollow blisters of mag-
netite form on the original surface (figure 45C). The oxidation of Fe0 and the
Diffusion
Oxydation Fe
Reduction O2
O2
2+ 3+
(pores) Fe / Fe (2)
(crack) Flux H2O
2+ 3+
Fe / Fe (2)
Fe3O4(2)/FeOOH (3) (fissure)
Precipitation
Precipitation
Diffusion (1) 3+
Diffusion/convenction 3+
2+ 2+ 3+ Dissolution
Fe Fe / Fe Fe Fe
Précipitation
(pores)
Precipitation
Quartz
2+ 3+
Fe / Fe (2)
(crack)
2+ 3+
Fe / Fe (2)
(crack)
M DPL TM
44 Schematic of long term iron corrosion in soil mechanisms. Reproduced with permission
from Neff et al. (2007) D.Neff, E. Vega, P. Dillmann & M. Descostes, 2007, Contribution of
iron archaeological artefacts to the estimation of average corrosion rates and the long-term
corrosin mechanisms of low-carbon steel buried in soil. In: P. Dillmann, G. Béranger,
P. Piccardo & H. Matthiesen, Corrosion of metallic heritage artefacts. Investigation,
conservation and prediction for long-term behaviour, European Federation of Corrosion
Publications Number 48, Woodhead Publishing Ltd. Cambridge, ISBN-13: 978-1-84569-239-1
pp. 41-76.

Iron
transport of Fe2+ out of the object produces cavities inside it (figure 45D,E). If the
oxidation process continues for long enough, all metallic iron will disappear from
the inside, leaving a cavity or series of cavities with a thin wall of magnetite. Inclu-
sions of carbon (C), iron-carbon compounds (e.g. FeC3) and slag material remain
unaffected. In wrought iron, they appear as strands of fairly brittle material, which
A B
C D
45A-E Examples of iron objects degraded in
an oxygen-rich environment. A: Iron Age
adze from Barneveld (De Vink), as the origi-
nal surface is retrieved. The outermost layer
of iron has been converted to magnetite.
Around this is a crust of sand with iron
oxides and oxyhydroxides, which has been
partially removed. B: Fragment of Roman
iron from Tiel-Passewaaij seen from the
inside out, with an outer layer of lime.
C: Roman dagger found in a sarcophagus
from Bocholtz. Magnetite blisters have E
formed on the surface. D: Inside of a fully
corroded nail from the 16th century shipwreck KZ47 (found near Almere). The surface has
remained preserved as a thin layer of magnetite. Inside, only strands of carbon, slag mate-
rial and iron carbide remain. E: Roman iron jewellery from the burial at Bocholtz. Solid iron
has been transformed into a hollow object with thin magnetite walls.
97
sometimes looks deceptively like wood (figure 45D). Such strands do not form in
cast iron.
A number of soil factors affect the degradation of iron by oxygen:
The supply of oxygen

If the supply of oxygen is slow, the oxidation of iron by oxygen will also proceed
more slowly. In theory, the oxidation of iron should thus proceed more rapidly in
porous (i.e. sandy) soils and more slowly in soils with low permeability (i.e.
clay).
pH
Iron dissolves more quickly in an acidic environment, which accelerates the cor-
rosion process. In an alkaline (e.g. calcareous) environment, corrosion proceeds
more slowly. It does not however cease, as is sometimes suggested.
Salinity
Salt makes soil water more conductive, which facilitates the transport of electrical
charges – an essential part of the corrosion process. The chloride ion, a constitu-
ent of salt in solution, also accelerates the corrosion of iron and makes iron more
difficult to stabilise after excavation (Scharff 1993).
6.4.3 Anoxic (reduced), sulphate-rich environment

In the absence of oxygen, sulphate is the most relevant electron acceptor in the
oxidation of iron. As with oxidation by oxygen, in an anoxic, sulphate-rich envi-
ronment, iron on the inside of the object is oxidised to Fe2+. It then dissolves, and
is transported out of the object. The oxidation phase to Fe3+ (which occurs in
oxidation by oxygen) does not, however, occur. Sulphide (HS–) forms on the out-
side of the object as a counter-reaction. This is a reaction product of the reduction
of sulphate (figure 46).
SO42– + 8e– + 5 H2O → HS– + 9 OH–
The iron and sulphide thus created react to form iron monosulphides (FeS;
e.g. mackinawite), according to the following reaction:
Fe2+ + HS– → FeS + H+
Sometimes the iron monosulphide becomes associated with iron disulphide

(FeS2; e.g. pyrite or marcasite) if Fe3+ minerals are also present in the sediment.
This creates a concretion on the original iron object, consisting of soil material
with deposits of iron sulphides (figure 47 A-C). This material is usually grey-black

Iron
46 Schematic represen- SO42-

tation of iron corrosion Transport of anions
in an oxygen-poor, Cl- ect.
sulphate-rich environ- SO42- + 8e- + 5H2O -> HS- + 9OH-
ment.
Fe2+ + HS- -> FeS + H+
Fe0 -> + Fe2+ + 2e-

Original surface
Metallic iron with dissolution cavities
A B
47A-C Examples of iron objects degraded in
an oxygen-poor, sulphate-rich environment.
A: Concretion of iron monosulphides con-
taining a cavity in the shape of the original
object (an axe). The arrows indicate where
the cavity can be seen. (From the shipwreck
Burgzand Noord) B: Gold-coloured
sulphides on nails from the Roman ship
Woerden 7. The arrows indicate the gold
sheen typical of sulphidic corrosion
products. C: Nails from Woerden 7 with
sulphides and (on the head) a lime layer.
99
to black in colour, though it can contain striking gold-coloured pieces. A layer of

lime sometimes forms on the outside. If this degradation process continues for
long enough, the iron in the original object will eventually disappear completely.
What remains will be a cavity – or impression – in the shape of the original object,
made of a grey-black concretion.
A number of soil factors affect the degradation of iron by sulphate:
The supply of sulphate

If the supply of sulphate is slow, oxidation will also proceed more slowly. High
sulphate levels occur mainly in saline or brackish water. In theory, the oxidation
of iron should therefore proceed more rapidly in porous (i.e. sandy) soils and
more slowly in soils with low permeability (i.e. clay).
pH
The influence of pH on these processes is not clear. It could be that oxidation-
reduction processes proceed more quickly in an acidic environment, which
induces iron(II) to dissolve more readily. On the other hand, in an acidic environ-
ment HS– will escape quickly in the form of gaseous H2S, according to the follow-
ing reaction:
HS–aq + H+aq → H2Sg
and will not, therefore, be available to form FeS. This will slow down the forma-
tion of a sulphide crust. This is a largely academic consideration, however, given
the fact that saline reduced environments with a low pH value are rare.
Salinity
Salt makes soil water more conductive, which facilitates the transport of charges –
an essential part of the corrosion process.
6.4.4 Anoxic (reduced), sulphate-poor environment

In the absence of oxygen and sulphate, iron can oxidise as a result of counter-
reactions with water or acid (see above). If the pH level is high (particularly in
reduced, iron-rich, lime-rich groundwater) a crust of iron carbonate (siderite)
can form on the iron, which is deposited according to the following formula:
Fe2+ + HCO3– → FeCO3 + H+
In this reaction, no metallic iron from the object is converted. Iron is more likely
to be deposited from the groundwater, with metallic iron acting as a crystallisa-
tion point (figure 48, 49A, B). This crust does not form from iron in the object

Iron
48 Schematic represen- Neutral to basic conditions Acidic conditions

tation of siderite forma-
tion on iron and a pos-
sible model of siderite Fe2+ HCO3-
corrosion.
Fe2+aq HCO3-
Fe2+ + HCO3- -> FeCO3 + H+
Fe2+ + HCO3- -> FeCO3 + H+
2e- + 2H+ -> H2
Fe0 -> + Fe2+ + 2e-

Original surface
Metallic iron
A
49A-C Examples of objects with siderite
concretions. A: Excavation photograph of a
Roman frame saw in the ship De Meern 1.
A siderite crust, probably mixed with lime, C
can be seen on the saw blade. B: Concretion
with an iron ring from the ship ‘Hoornse Hop 2’ in cross-section. The iron ring itself is vis-
ible in the middle. The surrounding light-coloured concretion consists of siderite. C: Excava-
tion photograph from Nydam Mose (Denmark). Iron Age axe that has been partially con-
verted to siderite. Photograph National Museum Kopenhagen.
101
itself, but from iron in the immediate environment, particularly the groundwater.
As a rule, such iron objects tend to be in an excellent state of preservation. If little
iron is available in the groundwater, no crust will form, and the iron will remain
well preserved.
In acidic, sulphate-poor soils – such as water-saturated acidic peaty soils – the

process appears to be different. Danish research on Medieval iron objects from
Nydam Mose (Matthiesen et al. 2001, 2004, 2007) has shown that iron objects in
acidic peaty soils are converted to siderite. In some cases, the object appears to
dissolve from the outside in, while in other cases the shape is preserved while the
metal is converted (figure 9c). In the Netherlands, too, siderite crusts have been
found on archaeological remains (figure 9a,b), though not in combination with
advanced degradation, as at Nydam Mose.
A siderite crust is typically greyish-white and is soft and malleable when wet. It
feels like a heavy clay, in fact. When it comes into contact with oxygen the outside
quickly turns to brown or red-brown (sometimes within just a few hours). If it
dries out, the material becomes hard, turning pale yellow to brown on the inside
as the siderite oxidises to an iron oxyhydroxide:
4FeCO3 +O2 + 6H2O → 4FeOOH +8H+ + 4CO32–
This conversion process can have a visible effect in only a few hours, as the con-
cretion changes from greyish-white to brown.
Unlike corrosion in oxic or sulphate-rich environments, iron corrosion in anoxic,

sulphate-free environments is virtually unknown, and the processes and condi-
tions have not been fully characterised as yet. It is not, therefore, possible to indi-
cate at this juncture the conditions in which corrosion does or does not occur.
6.4.5 Special situations: galvanic processes and partial aeration

In objects that are made of several metals, the least precious metal will oxidise
preferentially, while the more precious metals are least likely to oxidise. When
iron is combined with other parts made of copper alloys, silver or other more pre-
cious metals, the usual degree of reduction of oxygen, sulphate etc. will occur at
the surface, but the oxidation will largely – sometimes exclusively – affect the iron
parts. As a result, the iron in objects made of several metals is generally more
degraded than in objects made only of iron.
Iron objects are often found partially covered, making them less accessible to elec-
tron acceptors. One well-known example is nails, the greater part of which will be
embedded in wood, while the head is exposed to the air. As the iron oxidises, the
reduction of oxygen or sulphate will occur mainly in the part protruding from the

Iron
50 Schematic represen- Reduction of oxygen;

tation of partial aeration pH rise
on a nail.
Oxidation of
iron; pH drop
Wood
Wood with iron corrosion products
Metallic iron with cavity
wood, which is the most accessible. Iron will initially oxidise and dissolve along
the entire length of the nail. However, since the reduction of oxygen and sulphate
is accompanied by a rise in the pH value, dissolving becomes less likely. In fact, a
film forms over the iron which prevents further corrosion. This does not, how-
ever, occur in the covered part of the nail, which therefore continues to corrode
(Jones 1992). As a result, it is mainly (or only) the covered part of the nail that will
be subject to degradation (figure 50).
There are also less extreme examples, such as when iron objects are half-buried in
highly permeable soil material, and half in poorly permeable material. Any cracks
in the soil in which an iron object is buried can also have an effect. Since soils are
rarely homogeneous – particularly not at archaeological sites – effects resembling
partial aeration are probably quite common.
6.5.1 Loss
The loss of iron from an object has particular implications for archaeometric
analysis. A completely corroded iron object consists only of oxidation products
and the remains of carbon, iron carbide and slag inclusions, so it will no longer be
possible to determine the original composition.
103
When iron corrodes in an oxic environment, the original surface generally remains
preserved in the corrosion layer, as the boundary between magnetite and the sur-
rounding concretion with iron hydroxides and oxyhydroxides. Provided they are
properly handled, the original surface can be retrieved from the corrosion remains.
It is also often possible to observe the boundary on an x-ray. The only potential
interference is magnetite blistering, which may have damaged the surface. Since
the layer of magnetite in which the original surface is preserved is very thin and
fragile in highly corroded objects – and the object itself is virtually hollow – it is
very difficult to retrieve the original surface in an undamaged state. This should
therefore be left to a professional conservator or restorer.
The situation is more extreme when it comes to advanced corrosion in a sulphidic
environment. The object will no longer be present (which precludes any further
material analysis), and will only exist in the form of an impression of the original.
The only way to learn anything about the shape of the original object is to make
a cast of the cavity left behind. However, most forms of archaeometric or metal-
lurgical analysis will be impossible.
Iron objects from a reduced, sulphate-poor environment with a high pH on which
a siderite crust has formed using iron from the groundwater tend to be in a good
state of preservation. All kinds of analysis can be performed after the object has
simply been cleaned. In fact, the greatest problem lies in recognising the material.
Since a siderite concretion resembles clay, it is difficult to distinguish it from nat-
ural sediment.
Iron objects from water-saturated acidic peat may have been partially or totally
converted to siderite. In these circumstances it is possible that only the core of the
object has survived, and that the surface has been lost. In the worst-case scenario,
the object may have disappeared entirely.
6.5.2 Gain
The corrosion of iron not only entails a loss of information, it can also mean a
gain in information. This ‘secondary information’ can take three forms: informa-
tion on the original use of the object, information on the deposition and burial
environment and any changes in it over time, and impressions of decomposed
organic remains in the corrosion products.
In certain cases, variations in the intensity of the corrosion present on an object

result from the way it was used. The clearest example is nails used in a wooden
structure. The head of the nail is in contact with the air or with moisture in the
soil, and is therefore less degraded than the rest, the first part of which (in the first
plank or beam) will be surrounded by moist wood in which there is little oxygen
supply, making it more susceptible to degradation. The part in the second (or
subsequent) plank or beam is further away from the cathodic head, and will prob-

Iron
ably therefore be less degraded. As a result, the worst corrosion will be found in
the section of nail through the outermost plank in the structure. Even if the wood
has subsequently rotted away, the degree of corrosion can in some cases still pro-
vide information on the wooden structure in which the nail was used.
Since the type of degradation to which iron is subjected depends heavily on the
burial environment, the composition of the corrosion layer also reflects the burial
environment in the past. If major changes have occurred in the burial environ-
ment, the effects may still be clearly visible in the form of corrosion products on
archaeological objects made of iron. In some cases, the transition from one envi-
ronment to another proceeds with few problems, while in others the information
in the corrosion layer disappears, or the entire object may be lost.
Table 4 Transformation of archaeological iron objects in a changing burial environment
Transition from To
Oxygen-rich Oxygen-poor, Oxygen-poor,
sulphate-rich sulphate poor
Oxygen-rich – Corrosion layer Transformation of
converts to sulphides. corrosion layer.
Magnetite layer Magnetite layer
preserves original preserves original
surface.* surface.*
Oxygen-poor, Destruction due to – No transformation.
sulphate-rich formation of Formation of extra
sulphuric acid. external siderite
layer.
Oxygen-poor, Transformation of Corrosion layer –
sulphate-poor corrosion layer, converts to sulphides.
followed by ‘normal’ It is unclear what
degradation by happens next.
oxygen.
* In theory, the magnetite could also be transformed over time, but this happens so slowly
that it would probably not be discernible on an archaeological timescale.
Corrosion products created when iron is degraded by oxygen fill cavities in the
soil around the corroding object. If organic objects – which normally rot away –
are present immediately after burial and at the beginning of the corrosion process,
impressions may remain in the form of iron corrosion products (figure 51A-C).
105
Implications for in situ protection and monitoring of archaeological sites
A B
51A-C Organic remains that have been
preserved in iron corrosion products; exam-
ples from the Roman burial at Bocholtz.
A: Wood impressions on nails. B: Textile
impressions on a piece of iron jewellery.
C: Impressions of textile (bottom left) and
leather (top right) on dagger (see also
figure 45C). See also the chapters on textile
and leather for more examples.

Archaeological sites where a significant proportion of the remains consist of iron

objects should be managed in such a way as to minimise loss of information.
Monitoring should at least target the factors that affect iron objects and the infor-
mation they represent. Management should focus on:
1. Maintaining the type of corrosion: If a burial environment changes from oxic

to reducing, for example, secondary information in corrosion products (e.g.
impressions of organic material) will disappear. The situation becomes more
serious if the environment changes from sulphidic to oxic, since the conver-
sion of the corrosion products will produce strong acidification:
4FeS + 9O2 + 6 H2O → 4Fe3+ + 4SO42– + 8H+
This will not only cause the loss of secondary information as sulphate minerals
such as gypsum and jarosite form, but the original object will also be damaged
by the sulphuric acid created, as will any other objects in the immediate vicinity.

Iron
This situation can, for example, occur if concretions from shipwrecks become
dislodged and come into contact with seawater containing oxygen.
2. Preventing or curbing corrosion. This can best be achieved by attempting to

maintain an alkaline environment with a low salt content (i.e. low conductiv-
ity). It is not clear whether reducing the supply of electron acceptors (oxygen
in oxic environments and sulphate in sulphidic environments) has a signifi-
cant effect. On agricultural land, refraining from ploughing might have a pos-
itive chemical impact, though this has never been proved in practice. (It will of
course have a significant physical impact).
3. Preventing or curbing damage by repeated drying out and wetting. The dam-
age to archaeological iron is worst in layers that alternate between wet and dry.
In theory, a stable level of moisture in the soil should be less damaging, though
no practical measures have yet been developed to keep soil moisture content
constant.
6.7 Handling iron during excavation
6.7.1 Introduction
During an excavation, metal archaeological remains are exposed to various dan-
gers, causing them to lose some of their information, sustain other damage or
even become lost entirely. Such finds must be taken as quickly as possible to a
professional conservator; excessive delay can allow severe damage to occur. The
key threats to archaeological iron during excavation are listed below, along with
ways of preventing damage until they have arrived at the conservation laboratory.
Conservation work, which includes halting corrosion reactions, strengthening
the objects and removing deposits, is not examined here.
6.7.2 Keep it wet?

Iron objects can be severely damaged if they are allowed to repeatedly dry out and
become wet again. If objects from a wet soil dry out rapidly, specific minerals can
form (including akaganite) which cause damage to the object, causing the conser-
vator months of extra work. These objects must therefore be kept in moist condi-
tions similar to those in which they were found, perhaps by (temporarily) storing
them in plastic surrounded by soil as a moisture buffer. They must also be pro-
tected from sunlight to avoid rapid, irregular drying (resulting in shrinkage
cracks). Iron that is already dry should not be made wet, as the damage has already
occurred, and will only be exacerbated if the iron becomes wet again.
107
Handling iron during excavation
6.7.3 Look before you throw!

Many iron objects look very unsightly when they are first found. They are often
nothing more than shapeless clumps of rust whose external appearance gives no
clues as to what it inside. It is thus very difficult – if not impossible – to decide
which objects are important and which are not on the basis of their initial appear-
ance. There is a risk that some valuable objects will be discarded during initial
selection in the field, as they are seen as fragments of no value. The only way to
prevent this is to remove all piece of iron (or rust) and x-ray them before a selec-
tion is made. Only then does it become clear what is inside those unsightly lumps
of rust.
If part of the object has been converted to siderite, the first important step is to
actually identify it as a metal object. In wet, reduced soils in particular, it is impor-
tant to look out for things that look like lumps of greyish-white clay, which dis-
colour to yellowy brown on exposure to air. A further problem lies in the fact that
siderite – now the main constituent of the object – is very weak.
6.7.4 No cleaning in the field

Almost everyone who excavates archaeological sites tends, out of sheer curiosity,
to clean objects immediately in the field. It then becomes clear what kind of find
it is, and objects can be photographed where they are found. However, this can
cause various kinds of damage. (1) First, the layer of rust and dirt on the original
surface affords protection, not only against scratches and knocks, but also against
drying out and accelerated corrosion. (2) Second, this layer may contain second-
ary information in the form of remains of organic material or information on the
burial environment in the past. By cleaning the object one can unwittingly destroy
this information. (3) Cleaning in the field can also damage the object itself. Thin
or protruding parts may be damaged or lost. (4) Highly corroded objects may be
so fragile and brittle that they are held together only by the surrounding dirt.
Cleaning them in the field without first treating them can have disastrous conse-
quences.
6.7.5 Proceed with caution

When an object is highly corroded, it in fact consists only of cavities surrounded
by a thin layer of corrosion material (the magnetite layer). It will thus be much
weaker than its external dimensions might suggest. It is therefore very important
that the object be recovered with great caution. Lifting it with little or no support
(or even by the handle!) might cause it to break and fall to the ground. Larger
objects (like swords) can best be removed by sliding a plate underneath them. If
the soil is loosely packed (e.g. coarse sand), and the object is in a poor state of
preservation, it is best to remove it in a block. The object and the surrounding soil

Iron
should be packed firmly (using plaster or bandages) and removed by sliding a

plate underneath.
6.7.6 Puzzle
Highly corroded objects which are broken must be recovered with the utmost
care, not only to prevent further damage, but also to ensure that all shards and
remains are recovered. All too often, pieces are left behind, which makes it diffi-
cult to fit the object back together. All pieces, even the most unsightly fragments
of corrosion layers, must be recovered to allow full conservation and restoration,
followed by archaeological analysis.
109
7 Copper and copper alloys
D.J. Huisman, I. Joosten
7.1.1 Copper
Pure copper is light red or salmon pink in colour. It is a soft material that can be
hammered into shape when it is cold. It is not, however, suitable for casting. Addi-
tion of another metal, such as arsenic, tin, zinc or lead creates an alloy with other
properties. Tin (5-15%), for example, increases the hardness and lowers the melt-
ing point so that the resulting alloy – bronze – can be cast. One of the earliest
alloys ever used was arsenical copper or arsenical bronze, copper with 2% arsenic
added.
7.1.2 Bronze
Bronze is generally an alloy of copper and tin. Its colour ranges from red to
orange-yellow, depending on the ratio of copper to tin. A distinction is drawn
between low- (<14% Sn) and high- (>14% Sn) bronze. Bronze bells are made of
alloys containing more than 24% tin, to give the correct ratio of hardness to
sound. A tin percentage of 30% produced ‘speculum metal’, used to make bronze
mirrors. An alloy of copper, tin and zinc was traditionally used to make cannons,
hence the name ‘gunmetal’. In many cases, lead was added to make bronze easier
to cast.
7.1.3 Brass
Brass is another commonly used copper alloy, made by adding zinc to copper. The
colour ranges from red to yellow to white, depending on the zinc content. Various
ratios of Cu:Zn can be used, and another metal may be added to give the alloy
other specific properties. Brass was produced much later than bronze, as a number
of technical obstacles associated with the lower melting point of zinc had to be
overcome in order to obtain zinc from zinc oxide. Copper alloyed with 10-20%
zinc is similar in colour to gold, and brass was popular for this reason.
7.1.4 Patina
The most common layer found on archaeological objects made of copper or cop-
per alloy is a patina. This may be formed naturally or artificially. The term patina
111
is often used interchangeably with corrosion, and this can cause confusion. Strictly
speaking, patina and corrosion are different words for the same changes to the
surface of the metal. The term patina is used here to denote a smooth, continuous
layer that protects the details and the shape of the object. The term corrosion is
reserved for mineral deposits that do not form a smooth, continuous layer. It
signifies undesirable (local) damage to the metal, resulting in its loss, while the
corrosion products disfigure the object.
Patina, on the other hand, is a desirable and stable uniform layer. It is generally
regarded as aesthetic, part of the history of the object, something that should be
conserved. The value attributed to a patina is culture- and period-dependent. A
natural patina develops over time (years, centuries). In archaeological objects, it
can even contain valuable information about the object and its history. The natu-
ral patinas that develop in the soil or sea are very difficult to imitate as they have
a very specific layered structure. It is sometimes possible to establish the authen-
ticity of an object by studying this structure. Artificial patinas are obtained by
reacting the metal with a chemical solution, sometimes at high temperatures. Dif-
ferent concoctions of chemicals give a wide range of colours. An artificial patina
consists of the same corrosion products as a natural patina (copper chloride
hydroxides, copper sulphides, copper hydroxysulphates).
Copper and bronze were first worked in the Middle East. From there, the practice
spread through Europe in the Late Neolithic. Copper was mined in Cyprus, Spain,
Britain, France, Germany, Sweden and some other places. Tin – an essential ingre-
dient of bronze – is rarer. Britain is particularly known for its prehistoric tin pro-
duction. Copper and bronze were widely traded, and objects made of these metals
are found in places far from the areas where they were mined, e.g. the Nether-
lands. Here, the earliest copper objects – several items of jewellery (most probably
imported) from a hunebed (a megalithic chamber grave) and a number of axes –
date from the Middle Neolithic (Louwe Kooijmans et al. 2005). A number of Late
Neolithic copper daggers have been found, and also stone smithing tools (Butler
& van der Waals 1966, Fontijn 2003, Louwe Kooijmans et al. 2005). This indicates
that the metal was not only traded but also worked in these regions, although the
total number of objects remains low.
Soon after, the first bronze objects also appeared. At this time – the Bronze Age –
bronze was used mainly for weapons (spearheads, halberds, swords, arrowheads),
tools (axes, knives) and jewellery (cloak pins, spirals). The discovery of moulds
(Havelte, Buggenum, Cuijk, Roermond and Oss), a casting jet (Havelte) and small
pieces of molten bronze (Maastricht, Meteren, Nijmegen) in the Netherlands

Copper and copper alloys
(Butler & Van der Waals 1966, Bloemers et al. 1982, Fontijn 2003, Louwe Kooij-
mans et al. 2005) is evidence that bronze was worked in regions far from the
source areas. When iron became available – in the Iron Age – bronze continued to
be used mainly for jewellery. Iron is more suitable for weapons and tools, as it can
be hardened.
New applications for copper and copper alloys arose in the Late Iron Age and,
above all, the Roman period. It was at this time that coins were first used on a
large scale. Furthermore, the Romans succeeded for the first time in producing
brass (Scott 2002), using it to produce coins, among other things. Copper, bronze
and brass were also used for cauldrons, luxury kitchenware (pails, jugs, dishes),
jewellery (cloak pins, belt fittings, spurs) and other small luxury items (pens, ink
pots, seals, oil lamps, strigils etc.), and for other applications such as taps, procla-
mations, statues and diplomas. Speculum metal was used in mirrors.
Copper and copper alloys continued to be used in the Middle Ages to make coins,
jewellery, cauldrons and many other small items. In the later Middle Ages and
thereafter copper and copper alloys were used increasingly in specialist applica-
tions such as the manufacture of church bells and cannons. From the second half
of the 17th century the wooden hulls of seagoing vessels would sometimes be clad
with copper plates to stop shipworm eating away at the wood (Witsen 1671, van
Beylen 1970). The industrial revolution increased the use of copper further, and
more and more alloys were developed.
The type of object and its typology are the most obvious archaeological informa-
tion associated with objects made of copper or copper alloys. In the Bronze Age,
in particular, there were several cultures in the Netherlands that are characterised
by a specific typology of bronze weapons and jewellery. Typological properties
can also give us information about an object’s origin (e.g. Fontijn 2003, Louwe
Kooijmans et al. 2005). Some objects, particularly coins, carry text and/or sym-
bols.
It is possible to derive information on the production process from objects made
of copper or copper alloys. Cast and hammered objects can sometimes be distin-
guished on the basis of their form (more complex, detailed forms tend to be cast,
thin objects are likely to have been hammered). However, we can only be certain
about the method of production by taking, polishing and etching small samples
and studying them under a microscope. This allows us to study the microstruc-
ture, which is different in cast and hammered material. Detailed study of the sur-
face of an object can give us further information about how it was made and/or
used (figure 52).
113
52 Detail of the surface

of a mirror from a
Roman oil lamp. Engrav-
ing depicting leaf veins
can clearly be seen. On
the left, a pattern of
shallow parallel grooves
running in two direc-
tions can be seen. These
were probably created
when the surface was
worked with a file or
something similar.
Scientific analysis allows us to determine the composition of the metal. Various

techniques can be used. Some are non-destructive, while others require destruc-
tive sampling. Trace elements in the metal and stable isotopes of lead can be used
to determine the origin of the metal. Both theoretically indicate where the ore was
mined for the metal from which an object is made. The main source areas for the
Netherlands were Scandinavia, Great Britain and various regions in Germany,
although Mediterranean origins are a possibility in some cases (e.g. Fontijn 2003,
Louwe Kooijmans et al. 2005). In practice, this method can be used only under
certain circumstances, as most copper and bronze items were recycled once they
broke or wore out. As a result, metals from different regions were mixed
together.
7.4.1 Introduction
Copper ions can occur in a univalent or bivalent form (Cu1+ and Cu2+). The trans-
formation of metallic copper (Cu0) can be expressed as follows:
Cu0 → Cu+ + e–
Two copper ions (I) can then react to form a copper (II) ion (Cu2+):
2Cu+ → Cu0 + Cu2+

These are oxidation processes. In other words, the copper atom loses electrons.
This means that something has to reduce – to gain electrons (this is known as an
electron acceptor). Substances that can do so include:
Oxygen: [O2 + 4e– + 2 H2O → 4OH–]

Sulphate: [SO42– + 8e– + 5 H2O → HS– + 9 OH–]
Water*: [2H2O + 2e– → H2 + 2 OH–]
Acid*: [2H+ + 2e– → H2]
* The reduction of water to form hydrogen probably occurs only in an alkaline environment.
In an acidic environment, H+ is reduced. In essence, however, these are the same reactions.
Copper and copper alloys acquire a protective oxidation layer during their useful
life. This layer consists mainly of the red-brown copper (I) oxide cuprite (Cu2O),
occasionally with some of the black copper (II) oxide tenorite (CuO) or the black
copper (I) sulphide chalcosite (CuS). Oxides of other elements in the alloy may
also occur in this layer. In the soil, it is the burial conditions that determine what
form of degradation occurs and to what degree. Since water is present in most
soils, the availability of oxygen and sulphate determines which reduction reaction
occurs. Every reduction reaction produces another form of concretion and
another type and degree of material degradation. Soils can be categorised as fol-
lows:
1. Oxygen-rich (oxic)
Soils or soil layers that are not saturated with water for at least part of the year,
allowing air to penetrate, making oxygen available. Soils which, though water-
saturated, have pore water containing oxygen also fall in this group. It also includes
all ploughsoil, all well-drained soil layers and soils with oxygen-rich infiltrating
water.
2. Anoxic (reduced), sulphate-rich

Soils or soil layers that are permanently water-saturated and contain no dissolved
oxygen in their pore water, which is rich in sulphate. This is common in marine
sediments, and also in areas where saline, reduced groundwater wells up. In some
places, however, including Amsterdam (Cronyn 1990), anthropogenic raised lay-
ers exist where similar conditions presumably prevailed at one time, making them
rich in organic material and sulphides.
115
3. Anoxic (reduced), sulphate-poor

Soils or soil layers that are permanently water-saturated and contain no oxygen or
sulphate in their pore water, particularly soil layers that lie below the deepest
water table (freshwater). The groundwater is either reduced seepage or infiltra-
tion water in which the oxygen was broken down in the soil layers above.
7.4.2 Oxygen-rich (oxic)
Freshwater environment
When copper or bronze objects come into contact with oxygen, the copper is
oxidised and the oxygen reduced. The copper dissolves to form a compact layer of
red cuprite directly on the metal (see sigure 53). The original surface of the object
lies within this layer of cuprite. Progressive corrosion forms other minerals from
the copper and chemical elements in the environment. This creates a layer of
alkaline copper (II) carbonates, particularly green malachite (Cu2CO3(OH)2) in
wet conditions, and sometimes blue azurite (Cu2(CO3)2(OH)2 in dry conditions.
If the corrosion progresses slowly a compact patina can form (figure 54). If the
corrosion is more rapid, a crust forms. Some areas at the surface sometimes cor-
rode faster than others, which can cause blistering (figure 55). In high-tin bronzes
the corrosion crust can be rich in the grey and turquoise insoluble tin oxide cas-
53 Characteristic patina on an object of

copper or copper alloy from an oxygenated
freshwater environment. After Selwyn
(2004).
54 Small jug with smooth, continuous

patina from an oxygenated non-saline soil.
Roman burial Bocholtz.

A B
55A, B Thin-walled basin from an oxygenated non-saline soil. Roman burial Bocholtz.
A: Discontinuous patina with blistering and cracks. B: Detail of several blisters.
siterite (SnO2) which is deposited on the surface. This is also known as water
patina. The corrosion crust may be coloured green to some degree by copper salts
(Cronyn 1990, Schweizer 1994, Scott 2002, Selwyn 2004). The shape of copper or
copper alloy objects generally survives in an oxygen-rich soil, either as metal or as
a corrosion product.
Saline environment
In saline oxic environments, besides the oxides and carbonates listed above, alka-
line copper chlorides are also formed: green copper (II) chloride hydroxide, ata-
camite and paratacamite (both Cu2Cl(OH)3; atacamite is a polymorph of parata-
camite, with the same chemical formula but a different crystal structure). The
chloride ions migrate through the protective oxide film to form a white waxy layer
of copper (I) chloride, nantokite (CuCl), on the surface of the metal (figure 56).
Corrosion in the presence of chloride can proceed so rapidly that a porous corro-
sion crust is formed, allowing water and oxygen easy access to the surface of the
metal, where they react with nantokite to form powdery green paratacamite.
Green crystals of paratacamite and atacamite can also form. The formation of
these large crystals destabilises the corrosion crust, causing it to crumble away
(Cronyn 1990, Schweizer 1994, Scott 2002, Selwyn 2004; see also figure 57). The
colour of an object can change as the alloyed components preferentially corrode
out of the metal. One well-known example is dezincification, which occurs mainly
in brass objects with a zinc content above 20%. This can give the object a pink
appearance.
Soil factors
A number of soil factors affect the degradation of copper and copper alloys by
oxygen:
117
56 Characteristic patina on an object of

copper or copper alloy from an oxygenated
saline environment. Compared to figure 53,
the extra layer of nantokite is particularly
relevant. After Cronyn (1990).
57 Copper plate on a ship’s rudder to stop

shipworm from eating the wood. The copper
is disintegrating as a result of bronze
disease caused by the presence of copper
chloride compounds.
pH level
The pH level, in combination with other factors, determines which copper (I)
compounds are formed. If the pH value is higher than 5, a layer of cuprite will
form at the surface of the metal. In a more acidic environment, copper (II) salts
will dissolve, thus no longer providing a protective patina. This can gradually
undermine the quality of the object (Cronyn 1990, Selwyn 2004). In extreme
cases, nothing more than a green patch will remain in the soil. In calcium-rich
soils, on the other hand, copper and bronze objects often remain well preserved.
Salt content
Salt enhances the conductivity of soil water, which facilitates charge transfer – an
essential part of the corrosion process. Furthermore, the chloride ion, a constitu-
ent of salt in solution, accelerates the corrosion of copper and copper alloys.

7.4.3 Anoxic (reduced)
Sulphate-rich environment
In the absence of oxygen, sulphate is the most relevant electron acceptor in the
oxidation of copper. In this process, sulphate is converted to sulphide, usually
hydrogen sulphide (HS–). Copper alloys exposed to hydrogen sulphide react with
it to form copper sulphides as they corrode. The black copper (I) sulphide chal-
cosite (Cu2S) is the most common, though the blue-black copper (II) sulphide
coveline (CuS) may also be present. Corrosion pits will often form in the surface.
The layer of copper sulphide can form a solid protective layer or an uneven crust.
Sometimes a layer of lime or sediment adhering to the lime forms on the outside
of the sulphide layer (figure 58). In these conditions, objects of copper or copper
alloys may appear unaffected, apart from the corrosion pits. In acidic conditions
where chloride ions are available (i.e. in a saline or brackish environment) the
copper chloride nantokite (CuCl) will precipitate onto the metal surface. This can
accelerate the corrosion process (see above; figure 56; Cronyn 1990, Scott 2002,
Selwyn 2004). In some cases copper ions from the metal, iron ions from the soil
and sulphides react to form copper iron (II) sulphide (chalcopyrite (CuFeS2),
which forms a protective gold-coloured layer around the object.
Sulphate-poor environment; bog patina

In the absence of oxygen and sulphate, copper and bronze should in theory
remain undamaged. However, this is almost unknown in the literature. Many
objects of copper or a copper alloy from such an environment will probably still
have a metal colour, and no visible signs of degradation. This is probably what
58 Fire hydrant from a

shipwreck (the Delft)
with signs of corrosion
typical of objects from
an anoxic, sulphate-rich
environment. Parts of
the black sulphide crust
and the surrounding
lime scale have broken
off.
119
Information loss as a result of degradation
A B
59A, B Organic remains preserved in an oxygen-rich soil thanks to the toxic effect of
copper compounds. Roman burial Bocholtz A: Leather remains on a small buckle.
B: Remains of wood found under a bronze pitcher.
archaeologists call a ‘bog patina’, although this is not certain. A gold-coloured

layer of chalcopyrite (see above) will form in some circumstances, and this might
in fact be what is referred to as a bog patina.
7.4.4 Special situations

Copper is toxic to living organisms, so organic material that would otherwise
biodegrade often remains preserved in proximity to corroding copper objects in
the soil. The material – wood, textile or leather, for example figure 59 – will often
be impregnated with copper.
Research in Sweden has shown that copper and bronze objects currently being
excavated are in a worse condition than objects that were dug up in the past (Ullen
et al. 2004). The causes of this are not clear, though it could be associated with
acidification, eutrophication or the effects of road salting. Scharff (1993) noted a
recent increase in chloride and sulphate salts in corrosion layers on archaeologi-
cal metals from Germany.
7.5 Information loss as a result of degradation
In most cases the patina on copper/bronze objects protects the original object.
The original surface remains preserved, and the original metal is still present
beneath the patina. This makes it easy to study an object’s typology, and traces of
production methods, use and repairs on the metal surface. The same applies to
metallurgical analysis of samples taken from the metal. In some cases, however,

no metal is present. The original surface may still be recognisable in the cuprite
layer, but metallurgical analysis will no longer be possible.
The most common form of information loss is the result of processes that dam-
age the original surface. Though blistering causes highly localised damage, it gen-
erally results not so much in a loss of information, as in a loss of museum value.
The disappearance of the surface as a result of dissolving or flaking is much more
serious, as it will cause the loss of any traces of production, use and repair. In
extreme cases, an object can dissolve away completely. Thin-walled objects (bowls,
jugs) can crack due to a combination of corrosion and distortion (soil pressure),
resulting in fragmentation. Though such damage can be repaired by a good con-
servator/restorer, it can potentially cause the loss of all or part of the object.
7.6 Implications for in situ preservation and monitoring of

Redox potential has a major influence on the type of corrosion that occurs. In a
freshwater, fully reducing environment, there will be little or no degradation. Any
change from a reducing to an oxidising environment must be avoided if possi-
ble.
Objects of copper or copper alloy in a reducing saline or brackish environment
are potentially open to more serious risk in the event of any changes in the envi-
ronment. A change from brackish or saline water to freshwater in the soil is not
serious in itself, as long as the environment remains reducing. However, if it
becomes an oxidising environment, oxidation of the sulphidic deposit on the
objects will cause major localised acidification, which can cause serious damage
to the surface of an object. It is therefore important to maintain reducing condi-
tions at sites suspected of containing such objects.
7.7 Handling copper during excavation
7.7.1 Introduction
During an excavation, metal archaeological remains are exposed to various dan-
gers, causing them to lose some of their information, sustain other damage or
even become lost entirely. Such finds must be taken as quickly as possible to a
professional conservator; excessive delay can allow severe damage to occur. The
key threats to archaeological copper and copper alloys during excavation are listed
below, along with ways of preventing damage until they have arrived at the con-
servation laboratory. Conservation work, which includes halting corrosion reac-
tions, strengthening the objects and removing deposits, is not examined here.
121
Handling copper during excavation
7.7.2 Metal detection

Many small object such as coins, fibulae, seals, insignia and belt fittings are easily
overlooked during an excavation. In Roman and Medieval settlements, in partic-
ular, it is therefore worth using a metal detector. Experience has shown that this
can bring about a tenfold increase in the number of metal objects found.
7.7.3 Keep it wet

Objects made of copper and copper alloys can sustain serious damage if they
(repeatedly) dry out and become wet again. If objects from wet soil dry out rap-
idly, they can develop ‘bronze disease’. This is an extremely aggressive form of
corrosion which can occur within a few hours of excavation, as nantokite – a cop-
per chloride – reacts with water and oxygen to produce paratacamite:
4CuCl + 4H2O + O2 → CuCl2*3Cu(OH)2 + 2H+ + 2 Cl–
Nantokite generally forms the bottom layer of corrosion. The formation of para-
tacamite crystals dislodges the corrosion layers above, causing them to break off.
This reaction also releases chloride ions which can then react with the copper to
form nantokite (diagram figure 5). As long as the nantokite is sealed off from the
atmosphere there is no problem, as the corrosion process does not begin until the
protective patina is disturbed. These objects must therefore be kept in the same
moist conditions as those in which they were found, by temporarily storing them
in plastic with some surrounding soil as a buffer, for example. They must also be
protected from the sun to prevent rapid, irregular drying (which causes shrinkage
cracks). But metal that is dry should not be made wet. The damage will already
have been done, and making it wet can only make it worse (Cronyn 1990, Scott
2002, Selwyn 2004).

cause various kinds of damage. (1) First, the corrosion layer on the original sur-
face affords protection, not only against scratches and knocks, but also against
ary information in the forms of remains of organic material or information on
the burial environment in the past (see above). By cleaning the object one can
unwittingly destroy this information. (3) Cleaning in the field can also damage
the object itself. Thin or protruding parts may be damaged or lost. (4) Highly cor-
roded objects may be so fragile and brittle that they are held together only by the

surrounding dirt. Cleaning them in the field without first treating them can have
disastrous consequences.
7.7.5 More than the sum

Certain types of objects, particularly small metal fittings, may occur in groups,
representing an entire belt or set of horse tack, for example. In such cases, one
must first ascertain whether the find is an isolated piece, or whether other pieces
lie in the vicinity. If so, it is often advisable to remove them in a block in order to
analyse their positions in relation to one another. There may also be remains or
traces of leather or textile, for example. It is easier to document these if the mate-
rial is removed as a block, which also facilitates reconstruction of complex objects
such as belts and harnesses.
123
8 Other metals (lead, tin, silver, gold)
B.J.H. van Os, D.J. Huisman, R. Meijers
8.1.1 Lead (Pb, Plumbum)

Lead is a bluish white-grey shiny metal. It is very soft, pliable and tough, and is a
fairly poor conductor. Though it is highly resistant to corrosion, it does discolour
rapidly when exposed to air. Its pliability means it can absorb small movements
very easily. Some Roman water pipes, like those used in the drains of Roman bath
houses, are still intact, and some are even still in use. Lead occurs in the archaeo-
logical record both in its pure form and as an alloy with tin (solder, 38% lead,
62% tin) or copper (bronze).
The main form of lead ore is galina (lead sulphide). The Egyptians used this ore
(Kohl) as mascara, although antimonite (an antimony sulphide) was also used.
Lead ore is fairly common.
8.1.2 Tin (Sn, Stannum)

Tin is a silver-white metal which is fairly pliable, quite tough and has a well-
ordered crystal structure. As a result, it breaks if bent too far. The element occurs
in two forms (allotropes). When it is cooled to below 13.2°C, it converts from
‘β-tin’, the normal form, to ‘α-tin’, which has a dull grey appearance and a differ-
ent density. This is the cause of tin pest, which was first noted in tin organ pipes,
and was originally believed to be caused by the devil.
Tin was used mainly in alloys, the main ones being bronze (Cu-Sn) and pewter
(this covers a large range of – generally cast – alloys of tin with 25-50% lead, plus
some small amount of copper, bismuth or antimony). From 25% lead upwards,
the alloy is regarded as toxic (Cronyn 1990). Prior to 1850 the Netherlands pro-
duced ‘Dutch pewter’, an alloy of eight parts lead to 92 parts tin, which is also
known as ‘angel tin’ in Dutch, after the angel stamps that marked the metal.
Tin can readily withstand distilled water, seawater and soft tap water, but is dam-
aged by strong acids, alkalis and acid salts. Dissolved oxygen can accelerate the
degradation of tin. When tin is heated (to above 300°C) it forms tin oxide
(SnO2).
The main mineral tin ore is casserite (SnO2), a highly opaque mineral that is
resistant to weathering and is therefore often found and mined in alluvial depos-
125
its. In antiquity, the main supply region for tin was Cornwall. Since tin is an
important constituent of archaeological bronze, this gave rise to extensive trade
between the Mediterranean region and southwest England.
8.1.3 Silver (Ag, Argentum)

Silver is a precious metal, which means that it is resistant to oxidation and is not
subject to galvanic corrosion. It is fairly rare (some 900 times rarer than copper),
slightly harder than gold and is fairly tough and easy to work. It can be rolled and
drawn almost as well as gold, which makes it suitable for producing foil or wire. It
has the highest electrical and thermal conductivity of all metals and, when pol-
ished, the greatest optical reflectivity. Thanks to these properties, and the fact that
it naturally occurs in its pure form, it has been used since the Late Stone Age. It is
also used to plate objects. The terms gold and silver plating are used for both gal-
vanic and amalgam techniques.
Most of the silver used was found not in its pure form but as a by-product of lead
production. Some lead ores contain high concentrations of silver, and this pre-
cious metal has been refined from lead ore since the fourth millennium BC (Crad-
dock 1995). The main deposits of silver in the Bronze Age were found near Athens
and in Armenia and Anatolia.
8.1.4 Gold (Au, Aurum)

Like silver, gold is a precious metal. It has a shiny yellow appearance, and is very
rare (25 times rarer than silver). Gold is very easy to work, as it is soft but tough;
60 Gold earring from a

shipwreck. The detailing
and surface of this small
object (14 mm in diam-
eter) have not been lost,
despite the wreckage of
the ship and the time
spent on the sea bed.

Other metals (lead, tin, silver, gold)
10 grammes of gold can be rolled to 10 m2. This property makes it suitable for
producing fine thread and gold leaf. Gold is often alloyed with silver, copper or
platinum to make it harder.
There are various ways of gilding objects. The simplest and oldest method is to
apply gold leaf to the object, possibly using glue. Fire-gilding involves dissolving
the gold in mercury which is then pressed through a chamois leather cloth. The
gold remaining in the cloth has the consistency of butter, allowing it to be spread
on a prepared surface. The object is then heated, the mercury is driven off, and a
thin layer of gold is left behind. Few galvanically gilded objects have been found
in an archaeological context, and this method will not be discussed further.
Gold occurs naturally almost only in its pure form, often with a certain silver
content, usually between 5 and 10%. If more than 25% silver is naturally present,
the alloy is known as electrum. Gold has a very high density (20 kg/dm2), almost
double that of lead. Its rarity and corrosion-resistance has always made gold
highly valuable, the greatest expression of wealth and power. The purity of gold
has therefore always been very important. The metal’s density can be used to
determine its purity (Archimedes’ law). Alternatively, a touchstone can be used,
on which a small amount of metal is ground off which is then assessed on the
basis of its colour or resistance to acid. Alternatively, the cupellation technique
can be used: the metal is melted with lead, which is then driven off at a lower
temperature, releasing the gold, which can then be weighed. Touchstones were
often made of lydite, a siliceous mineral. In order to refine gold by removing the
silver from it, the gold was first hammered flat, then heated with salt and saltpetre,
which dissolved the silver, converting it to silver chloride which formed a slag that
could then be removed.
Due to its chemical inertness and high density, gold is found in heavy mineral
deposits in river sediments. It can easily be recovered in small amounts by pan-
ning.
Although silver and gold were probably known locally in the Stone Age – because
they naturally occurred in their pure form – these metals were not used in most
areas until the beginning of the Copper or Bronze Age. Their most common use
was in jewellery, though they were also used sporadically for tableware. The first
use of silver or gold coins occurred in Iron-Age Anatolia. The Romans used a
great deal of gold and silver, particularly in the form of coins, which formed the
basis of their monetary economy.
127
61 Gold ducat from a

shipwreck (front and
back). This coin from
1762 is still in pristine
condition.
Gold and silver objects are an important way of displaying wealth and power, and
have been used in weapons (e.g. figure 60), jewellery and regalia. Use of gold and
silver to signify status has not in fact changed since the Roman period.
From the Roman period onwards, lead is widely found in the soil. It was used for
many different purposes, including water pipes, taps and solder. Its earliest appli-
cations were as a glaze, as a pigment in paint (lead white), as a means of attach-
ment, in fittings on wood and stone objects, in leaded windows and for weights.
Tin was widely used in its pure form. It is also one of the main constituents of
bronze, alongside copper (see chapter 7 on copper alloys). The Romans often
added lead to bronze, too, so that they could cast it more easily.
Cast tin objects are usually made from an alloy of 70% tin and 30% lead. With its
low melting point, this alloy is easy to cast and holds its shape well, but it is brittle
and therefore difficult to work. Moulds for pilgrims’ insignia were often cut into
slate, but these are very rare. Larger objects were probably made using the lost wax
method or sand casting. Tin and pewter were commonly used from the Middle
Ages to the mid-nineteenth century to make plates, lamps, candlesticks, cups and
other objects. After the advent of porcelain (China), which quickly became avail-
able in large quantities, and of steel cutlery, the demand for domestic objects
made of tin declined. Tin is still used, however, in alloys with all kinds of other
metals to produce solder. Because it is non-toxic and does not rust, it is often used
to tinplate packaging for liquids or moist foodstuffs.

Besides the type and typology of silver and gold objects, the mere fact that they
are made of these metals gives us archaeological information, signifying as it does
the object’s high status. Gold and silver coins are often very high-quality and give
us a perfect insight into monetary systems in the past. Lead and tin are utilitarian
metals and are often used in alloys. Lead and tin objects were usually used for a
time and then recycled. The quantity of material used (like the total amount of
lead used in a Roman settlement) can tell us about the use of metals in a settle-
ment and the scale of the mining industry (local or otherwise) and trade at the
time. Lead and tin amulets and insignia can give us a wealth of information about
pilgrim routes, places of pilgrimage and pilgrims themselves.
Gold and silver objects are almost always worked with a hammer and other tools.
Traces of working allow us to deduce the type of tool used, for example, or the
order in which decoration was applied, and the typology of the object can tell us
about its origins or the period in which it was produced. Lead, tin and their alloys
are almost always cast. Their composition can tell us about the skill of the manu-
facturer (van Beuningen and Koldeweij 1993).
Scientific research techniques allow us to determine the composition of metals.
Various techniques are available, some of which are non-destructive, while others
require destructive sampling.
Trace elements in the metal and stable isotopes of lead are sometimes used to
trace the origins of metals. Both theoretically indicate what region (or regions)
the ore may have been mined in. Most of the metals used in the Netherlands came
from Scandinavia, Britain and various regions of Germany, though in some cases
they may have come from the Mediterranean region (Fontijn 2003, Bloemers et
al. 1981).
In practice, this method can be used only under certain circumstances, as most
gold, silver, tin and lead items were recycled once they broke or wore out. As a
result, metals from different regions were mixed together. Gold, in particular,
would often be melted down and reused. In its natural state gold is almost entirely
free of impurities, so its origins are especially difficult to determine in this way.
8.4.1 Introduction
Gold is highly resistant to discoloration and corrosion. Gold and silver objects are
made up of individual grains which can lose their cohesion after a time. The lower
the gold content of a gold alloy, the more susceptible it is to corrosion and discol-
129
oration. Alloys with silver and copper (the most common type) can turn black as
they react with sulphide.
Gold occurs almost exclusively in metallic form. Under extreme conditions, as in
aqua regia, it can dissolve (Cotton and Wilkinson 1976), producing a trivalent
gold ion (Au3+). Aqua regia was known in Arabic and Persian regions from the
Middle Ages as the only acid that was capable of dissolving the king’s gold. This
made it popular with alchemists. Gold is also soluble in mercury (amalgamation),
molten tin and lead and their alloys. Soldering gold objects with tin solder can
therefore cause irreparable damage. The solubility of gold in mercury is used to
dissolve pure gold from ore, and also in gilding.
Like gold, silver is highly resistant to corrosion. On oxidation, silver become uni-
valent (Ag+). It dissolves easily in nitrous acid, though not in aqua regia. Silver
also reacts with the hydrogen sulphide anion (HS–), producing the classic black
discoloration typical of silver. This reaction occurs at H2S concentrations as low
as a several parts per trillion (Selwyn 2004). Silver discoloration can take many
different hues, as interference colours form depending on the thickness of the
degradation layer. If the damage extends to more than 100 nm (0.1 µm), the layer
turns black.
Finally, chloride (Cl–) and bromide (Br–) form insoluble salts with silver (fig-
ure 62). These salts are sensitive to light, causing fingerprints to remain clearly
visible on the silver, for example. Black and white photography is based on the
light-sensitivity of silver chloride.
Lead oxidises to form a bivalent cation (Pb2+). This occurs within minutes of
exposure to moist air, forming lead oxide (α-PbO, red). This oxide layer protects
the underlying metallic lead from further corrosion, and can react with CO2 and
water to produce insoluble white lead carbonate or lead carbonate hydroxide. In
the presence of chloride (salt) lead chlorides can form and, in anaerobic condi-
tions, lead sulphides. Lead dissolves under the influence of organic acids such as
acetic acid.
Tin, finally, occurs as a bivalent (Sn2+) or quadrivalent (Sn4+) cation. Like lead, it
quickly reacts with oxygen to form tin oxide or tin dioxide. It dissolves in contact
with Cl– (salt). When alloyed with lead it is protected from further degradation by
a protective layer of lead oxide or lead carbonate. Tin pest can occur on extended
exposure to temperatures below 13°C. At these temperatures, a transformation
takes place which causes a volume change, which in turn causes the tin to pulver-
ise. Addition of another metal, such as lead, bismuth, arsenic or antimony can
prevent tin pest. Tin is stable in solutions between pH 3 and pH 10. At lower pH
values it dissolves as an Sn2+ or Sn4+ ion; at pH levels above 10 it forms a complex
with hydroxide (OH–) as an Sn(OH)62– or an Sn(OH)3– ion (Selwyn 2004).

62 Silver florin from a shipwreck with clear 63 Silver florin from a shipwreck. The sur-
discoloration caused by silver chloride and face has been obscured by pitted corrosion
cracking in the old material caused by caused by seawater. The beginnings of a
reduced bonding between the grains. crack can also be seen. Silver consists of
closely packed grains which, after a time,
can lose their cohesion.
8.4.2 Degradation in the soil

As indicated, gold and, to a lesser extent, silver, suffer almost no damage in the soil
(figures 62, 63, 64). Alloys of silver or gold can however be susceptible to degrada-
tion, depending on their composition. Dissolving or degradation can make cop-
per-silver or copper-gold alloys brittle. As remarked in the introduction to this
chapter, silver and gold objects often consist of tightly packed grains which, after
a time, can lose their cohesion, causing cracks and brittleness in the material.
Since impurities such as copper or iron are often situated on the boundaries of
these grains, this is precisely where corrosion occurs, accelerating the disintegra-
tion of the object. Gilded or gold-leafed objects can sustain damage as the under-
lying material corrodes or disintegrates, causing the structure to lose its integrity.
Physical damage to gold and silver objects caused, for example, by the scouring
effect of sand on a river or sea bed can cause distortion and the loss of fine detail-
ing, due to the softness of these metals.
Silver generally discolours under the influence of sulphide, chloride and bromide.
Silver buried in the soil can suffer severe corrosion in moist conditions in the
presence of dissolved salts, particularly chloride. This forms silver chloride, which
occurs naturally in the form of the mineral chlorargyrite. It can also react with
bromide, which, though less common, is still an important factor, as silver bro-
131
64 Silver ear-spoon from a shipwreck. This 65 Tin spoon from a shipwreck with corro-
object has the black patina typical of silver sion blisters typically caused by saline water
sulphide. and tin oxide formation.
mide is much less soluble (Hedges 1976). Silver also has an antimicrobial effect,
curbing the degradation of leather, wood and textiles.
In temperate soils, silver generally behaves as follows. In well aerated soils, sandy
soils etc., a thick layer of silver chloride forms (this is known as horn silver, and
discolours from white to purple under the influence of light). In such soils, silver
sometimes deteriorates faster than copper alloys. The original surface is often
entirely destroyed beneath these layers, making restoration impossible.
In anaerobic conditions black silver sulphide forms (e.g. figure 64). It can form a
concretion on the original surface with constituents from the soil. The original
surface can often still be found beneath this concretion, sometimes in the form of
a sulphide patina. A restored object can be either black or silver in colour.
For preservation in situ in sandy soils, it is important to minimise the quantity of

chlorine and bromine ions. Anaerobic layers must above all be kept wet by man-
aging the water table appropriately.
Lead and lead-tin alloys are generally stable in most burial conditions, even on the
sea bed, because they develop a lead oxide/carbonate layer. If the water is very soft
(making it difficult for a protective salt layer to form) lead and lead-tin alloys can
dissolve under the influence of organic acids. These conditions occur, for exam-
ple, in oligotrophic (upland) peat bogs. In sand infiltration areas, too, rainwater,
which contains almost no salt, can dissolve lead objects in the ploughsoil. Objects
that are buried deeper in the soil are generally protected by a layer of salts consist-
ing of carbonates, sulphates or silicates. The solubility of lead and tin deeper in
the soil is very low. The toxicity of lead is therefore unlikely to have any positive
effect on the preservation of organic material similar to that of copper in prevent-
ing degradation of textiles. However, the formation of tin oxide in microcracks

and pores will cause the material to disintegrate due to volume changes. Blistering
and other irregularities can also form in cracks and pores (figure 65). In anaerobic
conditions a layer of tin sulphide can however develop, and this does have a pre-
serving effect.
In most cases gold, silver, lead and lead-tin compounds remain well preserved.
Their typology and traces of manufacturing techniques, use and repairs visible on
the surface can usually be studied, therefore. Metallurgical analysis of samples
taken from the metal is also possible.
The most common forms of information loss arise as a result of processes whereby
the original surface is damaged. Composite objects including gold and silver gen-
erally sustain damage as the underlying material is lost. In saline soil conditions
such as those found in the IJsselmeer polders, as well as in coversands and ice-
pushed ridges, and along roads, the surface of silver objects will be converted to
chlorargyrite, resulting in the possible loss of surface images, relief and other fea-
tures (Selwyn 2004). The oxide layer on lead, tin or lead-tin objects can become
so thick that the original material is no longer visible. Pure lead objects are also so
soft that the original image may theoretically no longer be visible, though this
never presents problems in practice. Lead-tin objects are slightly harder though,
depending on the composition, they can be very brittle. The same applies to thin
silver or gold objects, which can disintegrate entirely, depending on the alloy.
Lead is subject to severe degradation only in extremely aggressive and well-aer-
ated conditions. This metal usually remains well preserved (figure 66).
66 Lead ingot from a

shipwreck. The lead is an
attractive habitat for
shellfish. The formation
of a lead carbonate
patina protects the
metal from degradation.
Unlike in the soil, in
seawater lead suffers
very little degradation.
133
Implications for in situ protection and monitoring of archaeological sites
67 Bronze inkwell with

soldered lid from the
Bocholtz burial. The
lead-tin solder (50-50)
has almost completely
converted to oxide and/
or carbonates. This has
caused the lid to swell,
badly damaging it in the
process.
The disappearance of the original surface as a result of dissolving (which actually

occurs only in copper alloys in an anaerobic environment) or the formation of a
thick oxide layer is a much more serious matter, as it causes the loss of any traces
of manufacturing technique, use and repairs. In its most extreme form, dissolving
can cause the object to disappear completely. Thin-walled objects (dishes, jugs)
subject to corrosion (due to brittleness, particularly in the case of copper alloys)
in combination with distortion (as a result of soil pressure) can crack, causing
fragmentation. Such damage can be repaired by a skilled conservator/restorer,
though it can potentially cause the complete or partial loss of such objects.

Gold, silver, lead, tin and lead-tin objects are largely free from degradation. Phys-
ical activities such as construction work can have an impact on the quality of the
objects, however. Redox potential plays almost no role in the degradation of
objects made of these metals. Salt content, on the other hand, can be a major

factor in the degradation of lead, tin or silver objects. This is particularly relevant
in deep polders along the coast or land reclaimed from the sea (IJsselmeer pol-
ders), where saltwater seepage can occur, and along roads that are salted in the
winter.
Gold, silver, lead and tin objects are often a composite with iron, wood, textile or
bronze, for example. For in situ protection, it is recommended that conditions be
kept as far as possible such that the most vulnerable material remains preserved.
In most cases this will be iron, bone or wood, which means that a reducing, non-
acidic, moist environment must be maintained.
Generally speaking, it is recommended that current conditions be stabilised. A
certain balance will have arisen between the soil and the object during the long
period of burial, and degradation processes will have come to a virtual standstill.
Any change in the water table, aeration or ion composition/concentration will
lead to destabilisation and renewed decline.
8.7 Handling objects during excavation
8.7.1 Introduction
Archaeological remains made of metal are exposed to various hazards during
excavation, which can cause them to lose some of the information they represent,
become damaged in some other way, or even be lost completely. Such objects
must therefore be taken as quickly as possible to a professional conservator, since
any delay can cause serious damage (Huisman 2006). A summary of the main
threats to archaeological gold, silver, lead and tin during excavation is given below,
along with measures to prevent damage until the object has arrived in the labora-
tory. Conservation work, which includes halting corrosion reactions, strengthen-
ing the objects, and removing any encrusted material, is not discussed further.
8.7.2 Metal detection

Many small object such as coins, fibulae, seals, insignia and belt fittings are easily
overlooked during an excavation. In Roman and Medieval settlements, in parti-
cular, it is therefore worth using a metal detector. Experience has shown that this
can bring about a tenfold increase in the number of metal objects found.
8.7.3 Keep it wet

Gold, silver, lead, tin and lead-tin alloys are barely affected by drying out, as they
are not subject to progressive corrosion processes such as those that are common
in iron, copper and bronze. However, if bronze or iron coins are found alongside
silver ones, it is wise to follow the procedure prescribed for iron or bronze (chap-
ters 6 and 7). Iron, copper and bronze objects can sustain severe damage if they
135
Handling objects during excavation
repeatedly dry out and become wet again. These objects must therefore be kept in
moist conditions similar to those in which they were found, perhaps by (tempo-
rarily) storing them in plastic surrounded by soil as a moisture buffer. They must
also be protected from sunlight to avoid rapid, irregular drying (resulting in
shrinkage cracks). One of the great advantages when it comes to iron is that desal-
ination takes only a third of the time if the object has not been allowed to dry out
after excavation. Rapid action is the order of the day.

cause various kinds of damage. (1) First, the corrosion layer on the original sur-
face affords protection, not only against scratches and knocks, but also against
ary information in the form of remains of organic material or information on the
burial environment in the past. By cleaning the object one can unwittingly destroy
this information. (3) Cleaning in the field can also damage the object itself. Thin
or protruding parts may be damaged or lost. This applies particularly to gold and
silver objects, which are so soft that they can be scratched by grains of sand. Gold,
lead and tin objects are very pliable, and if tin is bent too far it can break. (4)
Highly corroded objects may be so fragile and brittle that they are held together
only by the surrounding dirt. Cleaning them in the field without first treating
them can have disastrous consequences.
8.7.5 More than the sum

Certain types of objects, particularly small metal fittings, may occur in groups,
representing an entire belt or set of horse tack, for example. In such cases, one
must first ascertain whether the find is an isolated piece, or whether other pieces
lie in the vicinity. If so, it is often advisable to remove them in a block in order to
analyse their positions in relation to one another. There may also be remains or
traces of leather or textile, for example. It is easier to document these if the mate-
rial is removed as a block, which also facilitates reconstruction of complex objects
such as belts and harnesses.

9 Glass
D.J. Huisman, I. Joosten, J.F.P. Kottman
Glass is a transparent, translucent, brittle material. It is made by melting quartz

(SiO2), usually in the form of sand, at a high temperature (around 1000°C) with
calcium oxide (CaO), soda (Na2O) and/or potash (K2O). The alkalis – soda and
potash – lower the melting point of the quartz. Calcium oxide stabilises the mix-
ture. Soda glass was made in the Roman period; potash glass was more common
in the Middle Ages (Davison 2003). Various metal salts were used to colour glass.
Cobalt (Co), for example, gives it a blue colour, and copper (Cu) turns it green.
Iron oxides, which are usually present as contaminants in sand, often give glass a
greenish or bluish colour. Manganese and/or antimony was often added to the
molten mixture to make colourless glass (Davison 2003). The addition of lead
would make the glass more shiny and translucent.
People first learnt how to make glass over five thousand years ago in the Middle
East. It has long been used to make glass jewellery such as beads, amulets and
bracelets. Glass objects were initially made in moulds. Other well-known glass
objects include small vases for cosmetics or items for decoration simply made of
extruded glass threads wound around a core. Wound glass objects were made for
centuries from about 1500 BC onwards, and many have survived.
Glass objects spread throughout Europe in the Iron Age. Well-known examples
include the La Tène bracelets from the Late Iron Age. An important development
in glass manufacture – the introduction of blowing using a pipe – occurred
around 2000 years ago, again in the Middle East. Throughout the entire Roman
Empire, glass workshops were set up to blow glass that was either imported in a
semi-manufactured form or recycled. The blowing technique allowed household
objects to be made relatively simply and quickly. The techniques for making raw
glass and glass objects that were first employed during the Roman period remain
virtually unchanged in use today.
137
The transparency, hardness and smooth texture of glass make it highly suitable
for drinking vessels and containers for liquids. It is also used in windows. Initially,
these glass products were rare and expensive, but within a few centuries, so much
glass was being produced that even the less wealthy members of Roman society
could afford glass objects. Glass has been found throughout the entire region that
was under Roman influence in the Netherlands, as grave gifts, at military sites and
in civilian settlements. At Medieval and Carolingian sites, glass is generally found
only in a wealthy context.
After about 1350 AD, in the Late Middle Ages, glass drinking vessels and bottles
once again became affordable for large sections of the population. Excavations in
old urban centres often reveal fragments of broken glassware in the waste pits and
cesspits of middle-class households, alongside other kinds of waste.
From around 1000 AD soda (Na2O), derived from salt lakes in the Middle East or
the ash of certain plants, was no longer used. Instead, potash (K2O) derived from
woodland plants was used in glass manufacture. In the sixteenth century, the
variation in styles of simple glass objects increased. Glass dots and threads would
be applied to the objects, or ridges and bumps would be created in the blowing
process. Many glassblowing workshops were set up in densely forested parts of
Europe to produce this kind of glassware.
In Late Medieval Venice, glassblowers produced luxury colourless glassware that
was very popular among the elite. Imitations were made in various studios in
Europe, which produced colourless glass in the Venetian style, often with the help
of specialists from Venice. They were particularly known for producing luxury
items such as goblets and footed bowls, or tazzas, for wine.
In the eighteenth, nineteenth and twentieth centuries the use of glass became
more and more universal and less and less elite. This is evidenced, among other
things, by the large-scale production of wine bottles and plate glass for windows.
Experiments with various additives and treatments produced an ever-expanding
array of colours and properties, a trend that continues to this day.
The type of object and its typology are the most obvious kinds of archaeological
information associated with glass objects. Extensive typological studies and
descriptions are available for glass dinnerware from all periods in which they
occur. It is therefore often possible to date finds. In some cases, one can even
determine the region or place where the object was made on the basis of the
typology. Such details can yield important information on the production of,
trade in and use of glass. Glass is also an indicator of status, as it was a luxury item
in many periods.

Glass
Besides typology, the chemical composition of glass is also relevant to archaeol-

ogy. There is a wide-ranging body of international literature on the chemical
variation in the composition of glass from different periods. The main constitu-
ents (particularly SiO2, Na2O, K2O, CaO, MgO) give us information about the
types of raw materials that were used and in what proportions. Variation in other
constituents (Al2O3, TiO2, Fe2O3, P2O5, some trace elements) tell us about the con-
taminants in the raw materials – information that can be used to trace their ori-
gin. (Aerts et al. 2003, Degryze et al. 2005, Baxter et al. 2006, Silvestri et al. 2006)
Other constituents give us information about the use of colouring (e.g. Co, Cu,
Sb) or of substances used to make sure the glass was colourless (MnO, Sb). In
recent years, specific trace elements and stable isotopes have been used to study
the origin of various raw materials (particularly Pb, Sr, O, Nd; Wedepohl & Bou-
mann 2000, Degryze et al. 2006).
One factor hampering this kind of research is the fact that in the past, too, glass
was often recycled. There is at present no way to tell whether an archaeological
glass object has been manufactured using recycled glass. Since recycling gives
glass a kind of average composition from various sources, there often is no dis-
cernible one-to-one relationship between glass composition and the source of
raw materials.
9.4.1 The degradation process

The degree to which glass corrodes depends on its composition, the production
process and, above all, the burial conditions. Moisture is a crucial element in the
preservation of glass. If glass is kept in dry conditions, it can remain in good con-
dition for thousands of years. However, this is not normally the case with buried
glass. Excavated glass that appears well preserved is normally weathered in some
way or other, though the corrosion products may have disappeared. Furthermore,
weathering is difficult to see, if at all, when glass is wet.
When glass is in contact with moisture, the alkaline metal ions (K+ and Na+) on
the surface of the glass are slowly replaced by positively charged H3O ions from
the water. The leached surface layer thus created is known as a gel layer (Newton
1985, Shelby 1997, Römich 1999, Freestone 2001, Davison, 2003 Kars et al.,
2003).
Weathered glass can be recognised by its dull or iridescent appearance, craquelure
and ‘sugaring’ (Davison 2003). Dull glass has lost its clarity and transparency and
looks white. This is usually caused by the presence of microscopic pitting on the
surface (figure 68). Irisation is caused by the breaking and interference of light in
or on the various gel layers with air between, which gives the surface a rainbow-
139
A B
68A, B Images of the surface of dull glass taken with a scanning electron microscope
(SEM). A: Pattern formed by numerous shallow pits. B: Several deeper pits in the highly
leached surface. Images Ineke Joosten (ICN).
coloured glow (figure 69). An iridescent surface may consist of several weathered
gel layers. However, if the gel layer absorbs water, the iridescence disappears and
the glass no longer looks weathered. Dehydration of the gel layer can cause tiny
cracks (craquelure) in the surface. If the gel layer is too dry, it can even flake off
(figure 69). When moisture gets into the cracks, the underlying unaffected glass
surface can also degrade. If this process of hydration and dehydration persists for
a long time, the glass can become entirely ‘sugared’, disintegrating completely into
tiny fragments (in extreme cases < 1 mm) (Ypey 1965; see also van den Hurk 1986
and de Groot 2006, fig. 70). Scratches on the surface can accelerate corrosion by
promoting the formation of pits.
69 Shard of glass with

highly iridescent sur-
face. In various places,
particularly on the
edges, the iridescent
surface has flaked off,
revealing the pristine
glass beneath.

Glass
70A-D Highly fragmented (‘sugared’) glass.

A: Individual shard. B: Fully disintegrated
glass in the soil; the glass is approx. 4 mm
thick. C: Fragmented glass beaker. D: Highly
fragmented bowl glued in situ during
excavation. D
Glass can also become discoloured in the soil, as the metal ions used to colour the
newly manufactured glass disappear or oxidise in situ and discolour, or the glass
absorbs discolouring substances from the environment (figure 71). A discoloured,
weathered crust can also flake off easily (figure 72). In certain circumstances, pre-
cipitation of substances from the soil solution and/or the glass itself can form
encrustations on the glass surface. (Davison 2003, Silvestri et al. 2005).
9.4.2 Factors affecting degradation
Introduction
The degradation of glass is affected by a number of factors. Some are connected
with the properties of the glass, while others are related to the burial conditions.
141
A B
71A-C Glass in which new minerals have

formed with substances from the environ-
ment. A: Probably manganese compounds;
B: Deposit of iron minerals; C: Deposit of
iron minerals, with a concentration at the
C edge.
Potash glass (with a high K2O content) is generally more vulnerable to degrada-
tion than soda glass (which contains high levels of Na2O); K2O leaches out more
quickly. It has also recently been found that sugaring (strong fragmentation; see
above) of Roman soda glass is caused by relatively low CaO concentrations (Huis-
72A, B Crust formation due to weathering.

A: Yellowish-white crust which is flaking
slightly on the edge. B: Brown crust with
lots of tiny cracks. On the bottom, where
several pieces have flaked off, the original
transparent glass is still visible.

Glass
man et al. 2008d). The thickness of the glass also plays a role. Objects made of
thick glass have been found to be more vulnerable than those made of thin glass.
The soil moisture regime and pH, and the presence of soluble salts are particu-
larly important factors in the degradation of glass (Davison 2003, Kars & Smit
2003). Water is always present in soil to some degree, except in deserts and semi-
arid regions. The availability of oxygen and sulphate are particularly important
when it comes to the formation of crusts on glass.
Impact of burial conditions
Soil moisture regime

Glass weathers under the influence of moisture. However, constant fluctuations
in the soil moisture content are much more damaging than continuous wet con-
ditions, and glass objects can sustain serious damage when subjected to repeated
drying and rehydration. The gel layer is extremely hygroscopic, absorbing and
resorbing water, causing it to expand and contract. This in turn causes micro-
scopic cracks, which allow the water to penetrate deep into the surface, damaging
hitherto unaffected layers beneath.
Acids and organic compounds

In principle, glass is stable between pH 3 and pH 9. If the pH exceeds 9, not only
do the alkalis leach out, but silicon and calcium also dissolve out of the glass,
eventually causing the object to degrade completely. pH values below 3 cause
alkalis (Na2O and K2O) to dissolve more readily. However, such extreme pH val-
ues are rare in soils. Some acidic soils, particularly peat, contain a lot of chelating
substances and complex formers in the soil solution. These are soluble substances
such as amines, citrates and acetates which, by forming (multiple) bonds with
metal ions, make the metals more soluble. The same conditions may also occur in
cesspits. Such substances can in theory have a sharply corrosive effect on glass,
though it is not clear to what extent this is relevant in practice.
Soluble salts
Soluble salts (particularly NaCl) can end up in the gel layer. If the gel layer dries
out, these salts crystallise out, potentially causing physical damage. If the gel layer
then absorbs water, these salts may dissolve. This process of dissolving and recrys-
tallisation of salts can severely damage the object, and may even destroy it. This is
particularly common in saline soils with varying moisture contents (salt marshes,
beaches, possibly also polders). However, it can also occur after glass has been
retrieved from a saline context (e.g. a marine shipwreck) and exposed to air.
143
Oxygen
In an oxygen-rich environment black spots (pits) may appear on the surface of
the glass. This occurs due to the oxidation of iron and manganese ions in the gel
layer of the glass. Reduced Fe2+ and Mn2+ ions that were originally present in the
glass hydrate as the gel layer forms. In oxygen-poor environments, iron and man-
ganese ions dissolved in the soil water can be absorbed into the glass surface,
colouring the glass black or brown.
Sulphate
In oxygen-poor environments, sulphate-reducing bacteria may covert any sul-
phate present to hydrogen sulphide (H2S), which can form minerals with iron or
manganese for example in the gel layer. Iron sulphides can also form in the sedi-
ment and simply be deposited on the surface of the glass. In both cases, they cause
an opaque black layer to form on the glass. Glass containing lead can similarly be
turned black due to the formation of lead sulphides. These processes can occur in
marine environments, and also in other reducing environments containing large
amounts of organic material.
Carbonates
Glass from a marine environment may be covered with a thick layer of carbonates
of organic or biochemical origin. This layer may protect the object, as it hampers
the diffusion of ions.
Biological degradation
Plant roots, moulds and bacteria can cause physical damage to glass. They often
secrete an alkali-rich solution on the surface of the glass, greatly accelerating the
73 SEM image of glass

with a degradation
pattern of biological
origin. The elongated
pits were probably
formed by plant roots or
fungi.

Glass
degradation process. This form of degradation has clearly been shown on a

microscopic scale (figure 73), though its impact at a larger scale is not clear.
The various forms of degradation affecting glass in the soil can have different
impacts on the information content of archaeological glass objects. The best-
known form of degradation – irisation – does not affect the shape of the object at
the macroscopic level. Surface features may, however, be lost, and the original
colour of the object may be masked, or disappear altogether. If the surface of the
glass flakes off or is otherwise damaged (e.g. figure 72), surface features such as
decorative grooves, gilding, paint and also wear marks can be lost. If the fabric of
the glass is severely affected, chemical properties will also be lost, hampering
chemical analysis undertaken to establish raw materials and origin. If glass disin-
tegrates as a result of degradation, the entire object with all the information it
represents will be lost. For such highly disintegrated glass to still yield archaeo-
logical information, it needs to be present in the soil in some recognizable form,
be recognised by the archaeologist, and be excavated and handled in the correct
way.
Highly leached glass will mainly have lost K2O and Na2O. CaO and MgO contents
will also often be reduced. Other constituents appear to be relatively unaffected by
leaching and, as other substances leach out, their proportion may increase (a
process known as ‘residual enrichment’). Some substances from the surrounding
soil – particularly iron (Fe2O3), manganese (MnO) and phosphorus (e.g. P2O5)
can accumulate in the leached zone of glass. These changes brought about by
degradation processes make it difficult to study the proportions of the various
raw materials used in production. However, it is still possible to group glass by
origin on the basis of other key constituents (TiO2, Al2O3), trace elements (Sb, Pb
etc.) and specific stable isotopes.

Glass suffers most under the influence of strong acids and alkalis, but only in pH
ranges that are so extreme that they rarely occur in soils (pH <3 and pH >9).
Many of the other processes are a direct consequence of the composition of the
glass when it was first made (e.g. ‘sugaring’ in Roman glass) or are related to the
burial environment from the moment of deposition. Based on what we know of
degradation processes, the soil moisture regime is the only relevant factor on
145
Handling glass during excavation
74 Block of soil removed

in its entirety after it has
been treated in the lab
by a specialist. A large
number of glass objects
are visible, including
several that are highly
fragmented, and have
therefore been glued in
situ.
which influence can be brought to bear. Alternation between cracking (in dry
conditions) and leaching (in wet conditions) probably causes the most severe
forms of degradation in archaeological glass, though there are no empirical data
to support this. Fluctuating moisture levels should nevertheless be avoided at sites
where glass represents a major part of the underground archaeological resource.
9.7 Handling glass during excavation
Highly fragmented and/or flaking objects should be removed in a block, i.e. by

stabilising a piece of ground containing the glass fragments and removing it in its
entirety (figure 74). Secondly, it is important to ensure that the glass remains wet.
Degraded glass, which can still look fine when it is wet, may fragment or flake if it
is allowed to dry out. The best approach is to pack the glass in plastic with a quan-
tity of moist soil surrounding it and take it straight to a specialist who can treat or
conserve it (Huisman 2006).

10 Soil features
D.J. Huisman, J. Deeben
10.1 The concept of soil features
The most important sources of information that archaeologists use to develop

our knowledge of the past are artefacts, ecofacts and soil features. Artefacts are
movable or portable objects produced by humans. Ecofacts are the remains of
plants and animals and natural deposits, that tell us about human activity and the
environmental conditions in which people lived. Soil features are immovable fea-
tures created by humans in order to make a place or a landscape suitable for use.
(Some archaeologists regard soil features as artefacts produced by humans. To
them, the difference between movable and immovable is less relevant; see Ren-
frew & Bahn 1991). Locations where these three sources of information occur,
either individually or in combination, are referred to as ‘sites’. Data on the infor-
mation sources gathered at a site are used to draw conclusions about activities or
behaviour in past societies. From this point of view, the site is thus the basic unit
of archaeological interpretation (Plog et al. 1976, Deeben et al. 1999). There has
been extensive debate in the archaeological literature about the use and definition
of the term ‘site’, however. See, inter alia, Binford (1992), Dunnell (1992), Fokkens
(1998). The soil features, artefacts and associated ecofacts present on and in the
soil can be regarded as the subsurface archaeological resource.
Soil features include dug features (‘negative soil features’) such as foundation
trenches, moats, postholes and storage pits, and also raised features (‘positive soil
features’) such as terps and other mounds, middens, turf layers and cultural lay-
ers. To complete the picture, we also include buried original surfaces at archaeo-
logical sites. All these features were intentionally created, but features uninten-
tionally created by specific activities are also regarded as archaeological soil fea-
tures. The earth beneath a hearth can become discoloured red or may harden to
fired clay or loam, for example, and cart tracks may form along frequently used
routes. See Figure 75 for an overview.
Different types of feature (e.g. postholes, hearths and foundation trenches) can
collectively represent a structure, such as a building (e.g. figure 76).
Soil features can therefore be the result of intentional or unintentional activities

and, in combination, can represent structures. One common element of soil fea-
147
A
75A-C Overview of different types of soil feature, indicating how they were formed, how
they were associated with human activity and what can happen when the site is aban-
doned. Then, the post-depositional processes that have resulted in the current state are
indicated. Since this is merely a basic overview, complex situations such as cross-cutting,
repair work (to foundations) etc. have not been discussed in any further detail, in order to
keep things as simple as possible. A: post and foundation features; B: other pits and
ditches; C: other features.

Glass
149

Soil features
76 Example of the floor

plan of a house in
Enschede revealed by
soil features in an
excavated surface.
tures is that they affect the soil composition and, in almost all cases, displace soil
material. Exceptions include the red discolouration that occurs beneath hearths
and the ‘phosphate stains’ that are caused as substances leach from dung heaps etc.
10.2 Formation processes in subsurface archaeology
The archaeological features found in excavations or visible in the landscape are

the result of a series of formation processes, some of them cultural, some of them
natural (Schiffer 1972, 1976; see also Figure 75). The first (cultural) formation
process is the construction, maintenance and disposal/abandonment of features
and structures by the historical or prehistoric society. These might be features and
structures that were important in daily life – homes, barns, hearths, wells, storage
pits, ovens – or were associated with agricultural activity or forest management –
fields, gardens, ditches, spade marks, ploughmarks, charcoal pits. Ritual activities
such as votive offerings deposited in buildings (‘foundation deposits’) and tem-
ples also leave behind archaeological features, while some structures and features
are associated with burial of the dead. The features and structures mark a focus of
activity of various kinds, including the slaughtering of animals, stockbreeding,
the preparation, storage and consumption of food, production of pottery and
working of materials such as wood, stone, metal, leather, bone and antler, and also
ritual activities involving offerings and mortuary practices. Many of these activi-
ties produced artefacts and waste. Waste plays a key role in filling pits and depres-
151
Formation processes in subsurface archaeology
sions, and thus in the formation of soil features. Waste is a difficult term, since its
definition depends heavily on the social and cultural context. Material remains
designated as ‘waste’ are not necessarily unsuitable for further, possibly secondary,
use. ‘Waste’ covers three categories of material remains that are the result of
human activity (Needham 1996): (1) artefacts and other materials that have been
lost or discarded, (2) waste resulting from the production of artefacts or from
food preparation and (3) parts of buildings and other structures that have decayed
or become ruins.
At the time of occupation or use, waste may have been collected and deposited in
features created specially for the purpose – or in reused structures such as silos,
ditches or wells. (This is secondary waste, i.e. waste that is disposed of in a place
other than that in which it was produced (Schiffer 1976). Primary waste is found
in the place where it was produced. Secondary waste is more common at sites that
were occupied for a longer period, or where the waste products caused bad odours
or attracted vermin). One must bear in mind the possibility that not all waste will
have been deliberately produced. Farmhouses, barns, tents and huts can be
destroyed by fire or storms while they are still in use. In other cases, waste occurs
in such large quantities that it forms thick layers as it mixes with sediment. This
applies, for example, to the potstal system, whereby litter impregnated with dung
and urine from animal stalls was applied to the land as fertiliser. It also applies to
ditches, cesspits and the dumping of material dredged from canals or moats. Such
layers may be left where they were created (in order to create raised features, for
example) or the material might be removed and dispersed on agricultural land or
dumped as waste.
All kinds of natural formation processes occur at the time of occupation or use
and, more especially, after a site has been abandoned (see also Table 1; see Wood
et al. 1978 for an overvieuw. The site will be visited by animals that use the aban-
doned structures as nesting sites and consume the waste (such as food remains)
left behind. Wild boar, dogs, moles, mice, rats and worms root through the waste
in search of food. Bacteria and fungi attack the organic remains, causing them to
degrade and disappear. The waste will often cause mineral enrichment of the sub-
soil, which in turn will promote plant and tree growth, disturbing the remains
even further. Besides these biotic processes, abiotic processes also affect the
remains. They include temperature changes, which can cause remains such as
pottery and walls covered in clay to be destroyed by frost. Storms can demolish
weak structures and blow away artefact and ecofacts such as the remains of fires,
seeds and fruit, and harvest waste. Precipitation and runoff can displace waste
lying on the surface, causing it to collect in pits and depressions. Flooding can
completely destroy a site, washing it away, but even in calm conditions a site can
become completely covered by sediment.

Soil features
Table 5 Overview of deposition and post-deposition processes
Systemic context Archaeological context
Human activities Site
Deposition processes Post-deposition processes

Construction Abiotic
– structures and facilities – erosion
– activity area – weathering
– land reclamation – precipitation
– sedimentation
Occupation Biotic
– maintenance – micro-, meso-, macrofauna
– disposal – flora (plants and trees)
– loss
Abandonment Anthropogenic
– goods stored – reuse
– structures and facilities dismantled – land use
– goods taken – excavation
– site destroyed
Time
Some time after the moment of deposition, cultural formation processes may
start again, affecting the remains (see figure 77). All processes that occur after a
society has abandoned the artefacts, ecofacts, features and structures are known
as post-depositional processes. Some of these processes are intentional, and oth-
ers are not. People might deliberately visit the place because they know, for exam-
ple, that there are things there that they can use or recycle as building materials,
usable objects, metals or other materials and artefacts. Vandalism, arson and grave
robbing might also occur. These actions all disturb the remains and cause materi-
als – sometimes only specific types – to disappear. In the case of soil features
associated with structures, this can mean that posts are dug up or pulled out, walls
dismantled and foundations dug out to beneath the surface in order to obtain
building materials. Occupation layers (e.g. from dwelling mounds like the Dutch
‘terps’) may be dug out and used to fertilise fields. Burials may be dug into and the
grave gifts removed, often disturbing the positioning of the burial (see for exam-
ple figure 78). Cultural formation processes also include what is in fact the final
fatal blow for an archaeological site, when an archaeologist decides to perform an
153
Archaeological information from soil features
A B
C D
77 Examples of post-depositional processes that can occur at a prehistoric house site:
A House site during use; B After the settlement is abandoned the house falls into disrepair
and the tops of the wooden posts rot away; vegetation encroaches; C Farming disturbs the
occupation layer, mixing the topsoil, causing the tops of the soil features to disappear and
the find material to become dispersed. Organic material continues to rot; D The site is
covered as the farmland is raised with a layer of turf and suffers no further disruption from
farming activities. Illustration F. Kortlang ArchAeO Eindhoven.
area excavation. The most disastrous thing for archaeological remains are the
activities that often unintentionally disturb or dislodge the entire site, including
land reclamation, levelling, farming, infrastructural developments, building and
the extraction of natural resources.
10.3 Archaeological information from soil features
10.3.1 Soil features as a focus in excavations

In current archaeological practice, soil features are an increasingly important
source of knowledge about the past. This is because research often focuses on the
size and layout of settlements, burial grounds, shrines etc. as a whole, and on the
relationship between individual settlements, and between settlements and other

Soil features
78 Example of a robbed
grave. The light-brown
rectangular soil feature
is a Late Roman grave
(4th-5th century) from
the Gruitberg site in
Nijmegen. The dark
patch by the stomach is
a pit dug by grave rob-
bers, probably in the
1950s. Photograph
H. van Enckevort (Office
of Archaeology and Built
Heritage, Nijmegen).
complex types. Large-scale settlement investigations began in the 1950s, when

archaeologists were first able to use mechanical excavators to expose large con-
tiguous areas (Modderman 1970). From that point onwards, excavations focused
increasingly on the documentation of features and structures, particularly at sites
from late prehistory onwards. For earlier periods such as the Palaeolithic, Meso-
lithic and, to a certain extent, the Neolithic, the artefact remains the most impor-
tant object of research, since few features and structures from those periods have
survived the post-depositional processes (Deeben et al. 2006). Soil features pro-
vide a diverse range of information that can be read in different ways. A soil fea-
ture is often a container for artefacts and ecofacts that have been brought there by
depositional and post-depositional processes. Soil features in themselves and the
information they contain have increasingly become the basic unit for the gather-
ing and analysis of data. Archaeology and related sciences such as palaeobotany,
archaeozoology, physical anthropology and archaeological materials analysis
therefore depend to a large extent on the content of soil features. Careful registra-
tion of soil features in the field is therefore essential in any state-of-the-art archae-
ological excavation.
155
79 Large-scale excavation of an area with settlement features and burials from different
periods at Someren-Waterdael III (situation as at March 2008). A: Excavated (white)/unexca-
vated (grey) area; B: Depression; C: Early Iron Age graves and grave structures; D: Late
Bronze Age-Middle Iron Age houses and outbuildings; E: Roman period graves and grave
structures; F: Early Medieval houses and outbuildings; G: High Medieval period houses and
outbuildings; H: Medieval wells; I: Cart tracks with associated ditches and J: Subsurface
archaeology disturbed by sand extraction. Map: H. Hiddink Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam
Archaeological Centre ACVU).

Soil features
10.3.2 Morphology and structure of soil features

Archaeologists focus first of all on the shape and internal structure of soil features
and the relationship between them. An investigation of a settlement, for example,
will generally first involve identifying the postholes, ditches and pits. In some
cases, it is possible to distinguish the original hole and the fill of a posthole (see
also figure 75). The floor plan of a house consists of a combination of different
types of features, particularly postholes and ditches (wall foundation trenches).
Archaeologists will attempt to reconstruct the house on the basis of such features.
If several successive houses have stood on one spot, it can be very difficult to iden-
tify each separately and determine what order they were built in. When establish-
ing which features belong together, archaeologists look not only at their shape,
depth and position but also at the colour and fill. Features belonging to the same
building will often have similar dimensions and fill. By studying how features
crosscut each other – and dating the find material from the features – it is possible
to determine the order of the different buildings at the site (e.g. figure 79).
On a smaller scale, too, the internal structure of a soil feature is a source of infor-
mation which might lie, for example, in the differences between a posthole and
the incision, or between the layers of a fill, or in the visible structures in raised
layers which may indicate how the layers were created and the origin of the mate-
rial in the layer (figure 80). In ‘positive’ soil features such as prehistoric burial
mounds, the structure of the turves used to construct the body of the mound will
ideally still be recognisable (Figure 81). This not only provides information about
the size of the turves and how they were stacked, but also about the type of soil
A B
80A, B Several parts of a soil feature at the excavation of a Medieval site in Dommelen
(Noord-Brabant). A: Posthole with trace of post and fill. The fill is very dark and layered,
probably because the hole was filled with turf. The bulge on the left of the posthole was
probably caused when the post was pulled out. Photograph Amsterdam Archaeological
Centre (AAC) at the University of Amsterdam (UvA). B: Well found at the Geldrop-Genoen-
huis excavation. The incision made when the well was dug can clearly be recognised from
the patchy colours. The natural layers can be seen on either side. The well itself was filled in
layers. Photograph AAC/UvA.
157
81 Typical turf structure in a burial mound. The original soil profile (a humic podzol) can be
seen at the bottom of the cross-section; this was buried when the burial mound was con-
structed. The top part of the profile shows the stacks of turves from which the main body of
the burial mound is made. Excavation at Oss Zevenbergen, 2004, by ARCHOL BV on behalf
of Noord-Brabant Department of Public Works and Water Management. Photograph
ARCHOL, Leiden.
they were cut from and what parts of the landscape they originated in (cf. pollen
in the turf).
Successive living floors, raised layers and waste deposits create a sequence of thin
layers with different properties that tell us how long they were in existence and
how they were created or used. Earthworking operations can reveal all kinds of
patterns directly beneath old or contemporary arable layers that give us informa-
tion about farming methods, land reclamation or soil improvement measures.
Clear examples of this include spade marks, ard marks, ditches beneath layers of
turf and daliegaten, holes dug when land was reclaimed to mix underlying clay
layers with peaty soils to improve their texture (see figure 82 A,B).
The structure of arable layers can remain preserved not only as a result of anthro-
pogenic raised layers but also in the event of rapid natural sedimentation. One
example is the hand-worked Middle Neolithic field at Swifterbant, where the pick
marks and clods of earth were still recognisable in the excavated surface. The
features were preserved here because the surface was fixed by a layer of light-col-
oured clay washed in by flooding immediately after the field was worked (see
figure 82C).
On a microscopic scale, even more information can be extracted from soil fea-
tures. By studying the soil structure in thin-section under a microscope (micro-
morphology), it is possible to identify the composition and structure of features.
A wide range of useful information can be derived from positive soil features and
the fill of negative features. It is possible to identify the presence of coprolites and

Soil features
C B
82A-C Examples of soil features caused by working of the soil. A: Scratches made by an
ard in the excavated surface at Alkmaar-Oude Sluis (gas pipeline). An ard, or scratch plough
– a forerunner of the modern plough – does not turn the soil, but merely cuts narrow
grooves, which can clearly be seen in this layer. B: Spade marks beneath plaggen soil
(anthropogenic soil with a high organic matter content) at the Dommelen-Kerkakkers
excavation (Noord-Brabant). The regular series of marks was formed as the soil was
worked with hand tools (shovels). Photograph AAC/UvA. C: Traces of a Middle Neolithic
field worked with a hand tool (hoe?) at the Swifterbant-S4 excavation.
charcoal, fungal damage to bone fragments – which tells us how long the burial
process took – or the presence of worms and dung beetles, which are indicators of
biological activity. Archaeologists can also derive information from fine lamina-
tions formed in a calm depositional environment or lumpy structures from dis-
turbed profiles, as well as from the deformation of the soil structure caused by
treading. See also figure 83.
10.3.3 Reconstruction of decayed objects

In certain rare cases, soil features can give a last impression of the shape or pres-
ence of organic artefacts that disappeared long ago. In burial grounds, for exam-
ple, a coffin or wooden burial chamber may be recognisable as a soil feature (fig-
ure 84A). Sometimes, a body silhouette is still visible, even though no bone mate-
159
83 Example of archaeo-
logically relevant infor-
mation on a microscopic
scale. Thin section from
Swifterbant S4 (Neo-
lithic wetland site). The
dark grey soil mass
consists largely of burnt
plant material. The fol-
lowing features are
indicated: (A) layer of
unburnt organic mate-
rial; (B) very finely lay-
ered burnt remains of
grass, reed or grain;
(C) coprolites (faeces),
probably from a dog;
(D) fragment of charcoal;
(B) tunnel produced by
soil fauna disturbing the
clay layer and; (E) distur-
bance caused by root
growth.
rial is left. In wood-lined wells, too, the top part will often have rotted away, leav-
ing only a soil feature. In some cases, square shuttering is present only as a soil
feature, while the well itself may still exist in the form of a tree trunk or barrel
(figure 84B).
Some of the timbers of the Roman ship De Meern 4 were still present in the soil,
while above the water table they had rotted away. Nevertheless, it was possible to
reconstruct the ship to some extent on the basis of the soil feature left behind; see
figure 84C (Huisman 2005b, Morel 2007 figs 2.3 & 4.2). The most extreme exam-
ple of such a reconstruction occurred in the United Kingdom, at Sutton Hoo,
where a complete Anglo-Saxon ship was found buried in a burial mound. All the

Soil features
D
84A-D Traces of decayed objects: A: Early Medi-
eval burial in the burial ground at Wageningen.
A burial chamber – which was originally lined with
wood – and the coffin can still be seen as soil
features. A few bone remains were found in the
coffin, though the wood had completely decayed.
B: Well at the Geldrop-Genoenhuis excavation. The
bottom part of the well – a hollowed-out tree
trunk – has remained preserved thanks to the wet
conditions. Though the upper part has rotted
away, it is still recognisable as a vertical soil fea-
ture (see also photograph in figure 80B). Photo-
graph AAC/UvA. C: De Meern 4 shipwreck during
exploratory survey in 2003. Below the water table,
the wood has remained well preserved. Only a
soil feature remains of the part above the water
B table (top left; outlines by lines in the sand).
D: Picture of the excavation of the ship at Sutton
Hoo in 1939. The ribs and planks visible in the photograph consist only of sand, all the
wood having rotted away. The iron nails are still in situ, however. The meticulous excava-
tion and documentation of the soil features allowed the ship’s hull to be reconstructed and
studied, and the repairs carried out on the ship to be described (Evans 1986). Image
obtained from www.wikipedia.com: ‘Screen capture of image from home movie, shot by
Harold John Philips, of 1939 excavation of Sutton Hoo burial ship. Permission for unlimited
use granted by son William Philips. Uploaded by grandsom Jeremy Gilbert.’
161
wood had rotted away, but it proved possible to reconstruct the shape of the ship
on the basis of discolorations in the soil left behind as the wood rotted and the
nails that were still present (figure 84D; cf. Evans 1986).
10.3.4 Dating
Challenges in dating soil features

Soil features can be dated in various ways. Cross-cutting of soil features, structure
and layers can be used to identify period or phases in archaeological features (and
other remains), using stratigraphic tools such as the Harris matrix; graphic repre-
sentation of the relative position and stratigraphical succession of visually identi-
fiable units (layers, features). See Harris (1989). This involves analysing the
archaeological phenomena at a site and representing them in a diagram. This
indicates their relative age. A more absolute dating can be obtained by analysing
the typology of artefacts. Dendrochronology, 14C dating, TL, OSL and other dat-
ing methods can also be applied to the artefacts or the matrix in which features or
objects are found. The outcomes of the various methods should be cross-refer-
enced, as many formation processes occur at a single site. Older material may, for
example, be included in the fill of more recent soil features. It is also possible that
materials or objects were reused in the past at a point when they were already very
old. Bioturbation is another factor that must be taken into account.
Artefacts from fill

The most commonly used method for dating soil features is based on the chro-
nology of artefacts. The idea is that artefacts from a certain period have a distinc-
tive style in terms of their shape, decoration or working, and are characteristic of
the society that produced them. Changes in the style of artefacts are a gradual or
evolutionary process. An extensive type chronology of pottery is available, which
allows find material to be dated to an accuracy of a quarter of a century in some
cases. Type chronologies have also been produced for metal and glass objects. The
type chronologies for stone objects are less precise. The chronologies of Meso-
lithic artefacts are, due to their more recent age, more precise than those of Mid-
dle Palaeolithic artefacts. Stone artefacts that originally formed part of a weapon
changed frequently, making them very useful in compiling chronologies.
However, dating by this method is less simple than it might at first appear. The
material in a feature actually dates from the time when the feature was filled,
which is not necessarily when it was made. A posthole, for example, will have been
partly filled immediately after it was made. This part of the fill may well contain
material from the period when the hole was dug, therefore, and possibly any older
material that was around at the time. The rest of the fill will consist of material
that entered the hole only after the wooden post was removed or rotted away. This

Soil features
thus dates from the time when the structure was abandoned or demolished, which
might be a long time after the hole was dug and the site was still in use. Once it is
no longer possible to distinguish between the posthole fill (incision) and traces of
the post itself, the feature is likely to contain finds from various periods mixed
together.
When dating features on the basis of the type chronology of artefacts, one must
be aware of what is likely to be present at a settlement site. The more recent the
settlement, the greater the likelihood that it will include older material, and the
greater the chance that non-contemporaneous artefacts and ecofacts will be found
in features. Features containing few or no finds at a site that is otherwise rich in
finds are often the oldest, and therefore belong to the earliest phase of use. At that
point in time, there will have been no waste present at the site that could end up
in the first dug features. If the site was occupied only once, and if little waste was
produced or left behind, there is little chance that the feature will contain datable
finds. Such features or structures are therefore undatable. Earlier layers dug up
when a feature is created, thus incorporating older find material into the fill, can
produce dating errors. Despite this complexity, however, dating on the basis of the
type chronology of artefacts is the simplest and therefore the most common
method of dating soil features and layers.
Features containing no diagnostic find material can, incidentally, be dated on the
basis of the type chronology of the structure of which they form part.
14
C dating of organic material
Soil features are sometimes dated on the basis of 14C dating of organic material
(see chapter 2). The carbonised or non-carbonised remains of seeds, branches
and wood (or charcoal) are used for this purpose. Grains, twigs or hazelnut shells
are the most suitable for dating as they grow in one year and can therefore pro-
duce very precise results. However, they are very small, which means they can
easily be moved by post-depositional processes, ending up in an earlier or later
archaeological context. It is particularly important to bear this in mind at reused
sites.
OSL dating of sand

Optically stimulated luminescence (OSL) is a fairly new technique used for dating
deposits. Dates can in theory be determined if grains of sand are present in a fea-
ture. This technique reveals how long ago quartz or feldspar grains were exposed
to heat or sunlight. The principle behind OSL is that the luminescence signal is set
to ‘zero’ when the sediment is deposited. The zeroing of the luminescence clock
occurs because the sediment is exposed to sunlight. After the sediment is buried,
it is exposed to natural background radiation from the environment. Ionising
radiation causes the luminescence signal to build up. The signal is measured and
163
converted using a specific formula in order to determine the age of the deposit
(Wallinga 2006). One complicating factor lies in the fact that sunlight does not
penetrate clods of earth or turves. This makes it difficult (though probably not
impossible) to date sand from inside features that have been filled with dug mate-
rial or turves.
10.4.1 Types of degradation

Biotic, abiotic and anthropogenic processes, and the interaction between them,
have a major influence on the natural soil and on soil features. All kinds of proc-
esses occurring in the soil cause the mixing, degradation and transformation of
organic material, minerals etc. These processes all affect the appearance of soil
features, and their visibility. Once features become more difficult to discern as a
result of these processes – or other information sources in the features become
affected – they are referred to as degradation processes.
10.4.2 Physical processes

Virtually all earthworking operations by humans have a disastrous impact on soil
features down to a certain depth. Repeated ploughing, for example, mixes up the
entire ploughsoil, so soil features can no longer be recognised as separate units.
The degree of damage depends heavily on the depth of ploughing in relation to
the depth of the features. Sometimes only the original living floor and the top of
the features are ploughed up, and information can still be derived from the deeper
parts of the features. It is however important to be aware that many shallow fea-
tures will have disappeared and that a large proportion of the finds will have been
removed from their in situ context and mixed with the ploughsoil. This does how-
ever make it easier to locate sites.
Earthworking can have other effects, too. By regularly stirring up the soil, it can
cause clay aggregates to disintegrate. The fine fraction is then washed down into
the soil by rainwater. This can create visible bands with a higher clay content in
deeper soil horizons. Translocation of clay can also occur near ditches, forming
layers that sometimes follow the shape of the ditch, and are not horizontal. These
bands of clay can accentuate features, though it is sometimes difficult to distin-
guish between clay enrichment and sedimentary stratigraphy (see figure 85).
Erosion can completely destroy archaeological features. Rivers and the sea can
wash away entire sites. Removing vegetation in order to farm land makes it much
more susceptible to erosion by water and wind. Erosion is particularly common
in periods when there is no vegetation, and can be extensive, especially on sloping

Soil features
85 Clay translocation
beneath a Late Medieval
or post-Medieval ditch in
Lomm (Limburg prov-
ince). The dark semi-
circular bands around
the old ditch fill can
clearly be seen, cutting
through horizontal
bands (particularly
visible on the right).
Photograph L. Tebbens
(BAAC).
fields. The erosion of loess soils in Zuid-Limburg is a well-known phenomenon.

This is caused mainly by water flowing over the surface, carrying with it soil mate-
rial that is deposited elsewhere as ‘colluvium’ on shallow slopes and in valleys. The
degree of erosion depends strongly on the slope, land use and the direction in
which the soil is worked relative to the landscape contours. There is no risk of
erosion on land that slopes less than 2%. On farmland that slopes between 2%
and 8%, only the top layer rich in organic matter (the ‘A horizon’) will erode.
Deeper horizons will also erode on slopes of between 8% and 20%. (Mücher
1986). Precipitation that is not absorbed into the soil runs off over the surface,
concentrated in rills by irregularities in the surface. This occurs even on slopes of
less than 4%; on slopes of between 4% and 8% the rills become deeper, and gullies
develop (Mücher 1986). These gullies can cut into archaeological layers, causing
archaeological artefacts to wash downhill and be deposited elsewhere. As the soil
is worked the rills and gullies are filled, displacing soil and disrupting the find
layer, or bringing it closer to the surface. This in turn makes it more vulnerable to
erosion. Besides the slope and the amount of precipitation, the land use and type
of earthworking techniques used are also important factors in erosion. Over 90%
of the rain that falls on bare fields and agricultural land that is ploughed perpen-
dicular to the contours runs off. The figure is less than 20% on grassland, however
(Pannekoek 1973).
Erosion by the wind can also be fatal for soil features, which are exposed as soil is
removed. Deflation often causes artefacts and other materials to collect and form
a kind of ‘desert pavement’ on drift sand. Clearly, many erosion processes are set
in motion when people remove or damage vegetation.
165
10.4.3 Biotic processes

The soil contains an entire ecosystem. Various types of organism affect the soil,
and therefore also archaeological features. At the very smallest scale, we find bac-
teria and fungi. They are first and foremost responsible for the decay of organic
material. Since organic material is a key factor in the colour differences between
soil features and the surrounding soil, microbial activity can reduce visibility. This
probably occurs only in combination with mesofauna (see below). One side-effect
of this process is that bacteria and fungi consume oxygen. In moist soils with poor
permeability, all the oxygen can be removed and iron-reducing conditions can
occur. This has a major impact on the soil’s composition and colour (see the sec-
tion on chemical processes below).
Soil can contain huge numbers of small animals (mesofauna), including worms,
springtails, mites, mud-loving beetles, ants etc. Their digging activities – known
as bioturbation – homogenise the soil. The tunnels created by this type of animal
can sometimes be recognised, even identified. This applies, for example, to the
tunnels created by dung beetles in the well-known buried Usselo soil (Brussaard
& Runia 1984). Eventually, the soil may become completely homogenised, mixing
soil features with the surrounding soil to such an extent that they are no longer
visible. Bioturbation is most pronounced in well-drained soils. Acidic soils, such
as podzols, and waterlogged soils are less subject to bioturbation by mesofauna.
Soil features can also be adversely affected by macrofauna, i.e. vertebrates that live
underground, tunnelling or burrowing in the soil. Tunnelling can cause small
pieces of find material to end up in much older deposits and features. This must
always be taken into account when dating features on the basis of the type chro-
nology of artefacts. Burrows and tunnels created by mice, rabbits, badgers and
foxes are soil features in themselves. They are not generally directly related to
archaeology, however (though these animals do like to burrow in burial mounds,
ramparts and mottes). Moles, on the other hand, are most active in soils contain-
ing lots of worms, their main source of food. Worms occur in parts of the soil
with a high organic matter content, and higher moisture levels. This is probably
why moles seem to burrow more frequently at old house sites, in soil features and
under large pieces of pottery (such as urns in burial mounds: During investiga-
tion of circular ditches at an urnfield at Boshoverheide in the municipality of
Weert (Bloemers 1993, Van Mourik 1987) it sometimes proved possible to predict
the location of an urn by following mole tunnels. The higher moisture content
beneath the pottery was apparently an important factor in the location of worms.
It should be noted that the mole tunnels were also ancient; no moles live in the
podzolic soil at Boshoverheide today. See also Harris (1979)). Moles also bring
shards and other artefacts to the surface. In vegetated areas such as grassland,
where molehills are the only things that expose the subsurface, archaeologists will
happily use them to map the area. For some reason as yet unknown, meso- and

Soil features
86 Mesolithic fire pit.

The black colour comes
from a very fine charcoal
distribution. The feature
is patchy because it has
been disturbed by tun-
nelling, probably by
moles. The round tun-
nels are particularly
visible at the edges of
the feature. Photograph
S. Knippenberg,
ARCHOL Leiden.
macrofauna tend to be particularly active at the edges of soil features. This can
blur the boundaries of the features, though they do tend to remain recognisable
(figure 86).
Other vertebrates can damage subsurface archaeology by their activities at the

surface. Rooting pigs and wild boars, scratching chickens and dogs can turn over
the top layer of soil. They can also dig sizable pits, particularly if many are kept in
a small area, or if they are tied up. If this has happened in the past, the pits can
become part of the subsurface archaeological resource once they have filled.
Trampling by large ruminants in some conservation areas can also have a negative
impact on ‘positive soil features’, levelling off the microrelief (Groenewoudt , Cul-
tural Heritage Agency, pers comm.).
Plants and trees also have an impact on subsurface archaeology. First and fore-
most, their roots grow through soil layers and features. Indeed, they tend to grow
preferentially through soil features, since their slightly higher organic matter con-
tent provides more nutrients and less resistance. It can also mean they retain
water more readily. Root growth can push aside soil material, leaving a cavity
when the plant dies. The cavity might remain, though it will often collapse under
pressure or fill with displaced soil material. Trees can produce even greater dis-
ruption. If they blow over, their entire root system and the soil attached to it is
often pulled out (Crombé 1993, Kooi 1974). The pit this creates is then filled by
sediment falling from or washing off the roots. This creates a large soil feature that
can disturb any anthropogenic features present, or at least make it difficult to
interpret them. Figure 87 shows an example of the effects of a fallen tree in an
excavation.
167
A B
87A, B Soil feature created by a fallen tree in plan (A) and in section (B). Such features can
easily be confused with structures of anthropogenic origin. Bladel-Kriekschoor 1978
excavation, Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam.
Generally speaking, biological activity in the soil reduces with depth. Animals can
tunnel to considerable depths, however: moles up to 70 cm (Cobert & Southern
1977), beetles up to 135 cm (Brussaard & Runia1984) termites and ants up to 2 m
(Wood & Johnson 1978), worms up to 3 m or more during dry periods (Wood &
Johnson 1978), and centipedes up to 4 m (Butzer 1982). These tunnels generally
have only a small diameter, however: worm tunnels range from 0.1 to 12 mm, the
diameter gradually increasing with depth and tunnels created by beetles have
diameters up to 14.2 mm (Brauns 1968). Where tunnels cross, or where animals
stop to rest or sleep, however, larger spaces can be created. The key difference
between animal tunnels and the tunnels created by roots lies in the dendritic
character of roots, the small diameter of the lateral roots, and their relatively con-
stant angle (90°; Tippkötter 1983). The pores of roots are also generally smaller in
diameter than those of most soil fauna, at 0.1 to 1 mm. Abandoned tunnels, nests
and cavities left by dead roots act as channels through which water and artefacts
can be transported, mainly in a downward direction.
10.4.4 Chemical processes

The accumulation of organic materials in the uppermost soil horizons produces
some degree of acidification. This is caused in the first instance by the production
of CO2 in plant roots and by the decay of organic material, which can also pro-
duce organic acids. This acid has various effects on the soil profile and the sub-
stances in it. Firstly, lime will be broken down, causing it to be deposited deeper
in the profile. This produces rubble layers in loess soils, for example. Secondly, the
organic acids cause elements like iron and aluminium to leach out of the top lay-
ers. In poor soils, in particular, this causes a podzol profile with a lightened hori-
zon (E horizon) immediately beneath the humic layer and, deeper in the soil, a
layer containing the translocated material (the B horizon). Depending on the
location of the mother material, this material will consist of clay, humus, iron or

Soil features
A B
C D
88A-D Examples of features that have been affected by soil formation processes. A: Cluster
of pottery shards in an archaeological layer with no visible feature. Eindhoven Meerhoven.
Photograph N. Arts, Archaeological Office, Eindhoven City Council. B: Feature that is poorly
visible at the top. A grey feature can be seen at the bottom of the section; higher in the
section and in plan (at the level of the sign and the scale bar) it is barely visible, if at all.
Photograph N. Arts, Archaeological Office, Eindhoven City Council. C: Soil feature in a
Mesolithic excavation (Westebeers), accentuated as a result of podzolisation. Leaching has
caused the soil to become grey. The black band in the middle is a layer containing charcoal.
Photograph P. Dijkstra (‘t Oude Slot Archaeological Society, Veldhoven). D: Soil feature in a
Mesolithic excavation at Mariënberg. The thick red band at the bottom of the feature is
caused by finely distributed ochre. Fibres created by the formation of a humic podzol can
be seen in and around the pit. The fibres extend from the surrounding soil through the
feature. Photograph A. Verlinde.
aluminium, or a combination. The loss of organic material, iron and clay is prob-
ably what causes soil features – at least the deeper-lying sections – to fade or even
become invisible in poor sandy soils (figure 88 A,B; cf. Arts in prep., Leenders &
Berkvens 2007).
In very poor humic podzol soils, leaching causes both a grey layer and, at greater
depth, very narrow dark-brown bands or fibres where the leached material ends
up. Since these processes are affected by the texture and packing of the soil, they
169
can be affected by – or event accentuate – features present in the soil (figure

88c,d). In richer soils, material does not leach out so readily (Van Breemen &
Buurman 2002).
When ash enters the soil, from fire pits, cremation graves or waste pits, for exam-
ple, it immediately raises the pH. Under such strongly alkaline conditions, clay
aggregates can become unstable. This also causes clay to translocate in the soil
profile (Slager & Van der Wetering 1977, Courty & Fedoroff 1982).
Variation in the availability of oxygen in the soil also strongly affects its colour.
Although this is caused largely by microbiological processes, they are so chemical
in nature that we have decided to include them here. Oxygen enters the soil
through open pores. Rainwater that penetrates the soil also contains dissolved
oxygen. The oxygen is used by bacteria and fungi to break down organic material.
At greater depths, the oxygen runs out. The level at which this happens depends
on the water regime and the organic matter content in the soil. Below this level
– in the absence of oxygen – the iron from Fe(III) oxides and hydroxides (such as
goethite, lepidocrocite etc., fairly common soil minerals) take over the role of
oxygen, and are thereby reduced to Fe2+. Any sulphates present may also be
reduced (to HS–). The reduction of iron often changes the colour of mineral soils
from yellowish or brownish to grey or grey-blue. Organic material is however
needed for these processes. After reduction, the Fe2+ is partially dissolved, and
transported away by water. Once oxygen dissolves in the water again, the iron
immediately re-oxidises and precipitates out. This can caused rust-coloured lay-
ers of iron deposits. Eventually, bands of iron ore may form.
Since soil features often have a higher organic matter content, the oxygen in them
may be completely broken down, even though the surrounding soil contains oxy-
gen. Because iron reduces in the feature – causing it to become blue-grey – and
the soil around it does not (therefore remaining yellowish-brown), the feature
may become more visible. In some cases a ‘halo’ of rust-coloured iron deposits is
created around a reduced feature as Fe2+ from the feature is transported to the
surrounding soil where it re-precipitates on contact with oxygen (see figure 89a).
In situations where soil features can only be distinguished from the surrounding
soil by the reduced colour of iron, the reduction of the entire soil mass will have a
negative impact on their visibility. This can occur, for example, if the oxygen con-
tent of the soil decreases when the water table is raised or the land is covered
(Huisman 2007).
When iron and sulphate both reduce, the Fe2+ and HS– created form iron sulphides
(e.g. pyrite). In practice, this tends to occur in soils containing seawater or saline
seepage. In very rare situations, where a combination of soil features and
sulphate-rich water occurs, a halo of black iron sulphides will form (see fig-
ure 89B).

Soil features
89A, B A: Soil features at Borne

(Overijssel) where the effects of iron
reduction are clearly visible. The
features themselves can clearly be
seen because of their higher organic
matter content. In wet conditions, this
material has reduced the iron present,
causing it to dissolve. This dissolved
iron has been transported and has
precipitated around the feature on
contact with oxygen, forming a rust-
coloured halo. Photograph H. Scholte
Lubberdink (RAAP). B: Black deposit
around a wooden Roman revetment
post in the harbour at Forum Hadriani
(Voorburg) resulting from pyrite
B formation.
171
Loss of information
It will be clear from the above that physical processes such as earthworking oper-
ations and erosion cause the most severe damage to soil features. They can result
in their total destruction, so that information can be derived from the site only on
the basis of the properties of the artefacts gathered ex situ and, in some cases, their
spatial distribution (Haselgrove et al. 1985).
When it comes to biological processes, the most damaging are those associated
with mesofauna and macrofauna. It is not so much the damage caused by indi-
vidual organisms that is a concern – a fallen tree is in fact much more serious –
but it is the intensity and physical extent of their activity. Moles and worms, in
particular, can completely homogenise the soil. In loess and clay areas, the top of
features is often homogenised, leaving only the deeper parts intact. Damage by
rabbits, foxes, badgers and mice – and also fallen trees – is generally more limited,
and recognisable in the field.
Three different problems affecting the visibility of soil features have been identi-
fied in the field: fading, blue (or grey) discolouration and brown discolouration.
Fading – resulting from the leaching of organic material and iron from poor soils
– renders shallow features completely invisible (see above). This is sometimes
noticed in the field when a shallow find concentration is found, below which a
feature is visible. In other cases, however, the deeper parts of features also disappear.
At such sites, archaeological information is present only in the form of artefacts and
their relative positions. This problem is particularly common in poor, well-drained
sandy soils, such as those found in the coversand landscape of Brabant.
Blue or grey discolouration occurs when soil features have a slightly higher organic
matter content than the surrounding soil. Near the water table, all the iron in the
feature may be reduced (so it appears blue-grey because reduced iron is blue) and
the iron in the surrounding soil has remained partly oxidised (and therefore yel-
lowish-brown). This difference in colour disappears if the iron in the soil around
the soil features also completely reduces. Features are then only visible if there are
other visible differences in composition. A slightly higher organic matter content
may then be too little to produce a discernible difference between the feature and
its surroundings. This is particularly the case in soils with a high moisture con-
tent, caused perhaps by covering and a consequent reduction in evapotranspira-
tion (see above). Under such conditions, features that do not differ significantly
from their surroundings, such as postholes and pits which were open for only a
short time and contain no waste, are most likely to disappear. Features like wells,
ditches and waste pits have a greater chance of remaining visible because of the
sediment or waste they contain. The visibility of soil features can have a major
impact on the interpretation of a site. This problem is particularly prevalent in
the river area of the Netherlands.

Soil features
90 Brown-discoloured profile in Lomm (Limburg). No soil features can be seen in the profile,
though the presence of a Bronze-Age urn (inset) indicates that there must have been a dug
feature. There is no discernible trace of this pit, probably as a result of very high concentra-
tions of finely distributed iron oxides in the soil material. Photographs L. Tebbens (BAAC).
Brown discolouration is another, newly-coined term for problems in distinguish-

ing features and their surroundings in soils that are brown or red-brown. Although
this is sometimes assumed to be the result of iron displacement and clay enrich-
ment, it seems more likely to be caused by the generally higher iron content of
some soils. The consequences are similar to those associated with blue discol-
ouration, particularly in the sense that specific features remain visible and others
disappear. This problem is particularly common on the lower terraces of the Maas
river in Limburg. An example of the effects is shown in figure 90.

Most processes in the soil that affect features are beyond human influence. The
key factor affecting soil features and their visibility which can be influenced by
humans is the soil moisture regime. Lowering the water table causes the soil to
173
Handling soil features during excavation
become drier and promotes bioturbation in deeper layers. In areas where blue or
grey discolouration is a potential problem, it might however be necessary to desist
from raising the water table, and from building over or otherwise covering sites.
It may be necessary to place restrictions on earthworking operations in order to
protect archaeological remains lying just below the surface of farmland. Every
new round of ploughing causes more disruption, spreading artefacts over a greater
area (Clark & Schofield 1991, Steinberg 1996).
10.7 Handling soil features during excavation
10.7.1 Introduction
Most archaeology students spend a great deal of time learning how to deal with
soil features during excavation, and this also constitutes a major part of the daily
work of practising archaeologists. This is not however the place to explain or rec-
ommend how to excavate, investigate and document soil features (See instead,
inter alia, Warringa et al. 1988). From the point of view of information content
and degradation processes, we would like to draw extra attention to features that
are not easily visible. After all, failure to recognise features during an excavation
results in loss of information and the undocumented destruction of all or part of
the site. There are also a number of other matters to which we would like to draw
attention.
10.7.2 Position of excavated surface

The position of the excavated surface is generally chosen in such a way that the
features are most visible. Immediately beneath the ploughsoil – or some other
covering layer formed after the site was used – the visibility of features is limited
as a result of bioturbation or the effects of land reclamation. Archaeologists often
refer to these layers as ‘contaminated’. This means that the excavation or feature
layer will be exposed at quite some depth, often beneath the original living floor.
As a result, artefacts and ecofacts that originally lay on the surface, at the top of
the soil features, are often dug up unnoticed. Although a shallow excavated sur-
face just below the ploughsoil, for example, might not be immediately desirable in
terms of dug features, it might yield important information on features with shal-
low foundations, floor levels, surface hearths, ovens, stone packing, metal hoards
such as coins, and concentrations of bone (cremated or otherwise). Excavation at
levels where traces of inhumation graves are visible might be the reason behind
the failure to recognise cremation graves in some Merovingian burial grounds,
leading incorrect conclusions to be drawn concerning the burial ritual (F. Theuws,
AAC, personal communication). It is not always easy to interpret such concentra-
tions and features because they are often already highly degraded due to biotur-

Soil features
bation and land reclamation, and it is often difficult to determine whether they
are still in situ. By carefully excavating and investigating several surfaces, and by
precisely recording this kind of phenomenon, it is not only possible to discern
more activities at a site, in many cases it is also possible to interpret deeper fea-
tures in a more meaningful way using information from levels nearer the surface.
The larger, and often more diagnostic, artefacts tend to come from the top of soil
features, probably because their size makes them less vulnerable to vertical dis-
placement by bioturbation, for example.
10.7.3 Raised layers and occupation layers

In some areas, sites consist largely of dark homogeneous layers containing find
material. One might assume that such layers have been homogenised by intensive
bioturbation, rendering the stratigraphy and soil features poorly visible, if at all.
It is however quite possible that they contain such a large quantity of finely dis-
tributed organic material that they appear dark and homogeneous. The presence
of charcoal dust, in particular, can cause very dark colouring. Such layers occur in
wetlands, and also in certain urban areas, where they are known as ‘dark earths’,
and are often associated with periods ranging from the Roman period to the Mid-
dle Ages (Courty et al. 1989). However, examples from earlier periods are found
in rural areas (Needham 1996). Given the lack of features, it is tempting to dig
them up without examining them, in search of features that lie beneath them.
However, this destroys a major potential source of information. Cf. the investiga-
tion of plaggen soils, for which various methods have been developed over the
years (See for example Bakels 1988, Dirkx et al. 1995, Groenewoudt et al. 1998,
Groenewoudt 2000). Not only do many artefacts and other anthropogenic remains
disappear on the spoil dump, the chance to investigate how the layers might have
been created is also lost. Micromorphological analysis and the study of phytolites,
palaeobotany and the artefacts in the raised layer can all be used to determine
what activity (human or otherwise) resulted in the formation of the layer.
10.7.4 Finds at the top of invisible features

The degradation of features can produce concentrations of finds – shards and
stones, for example – that cannot be related to each other in any clear context. A
deeper excavation might reveal that the finds belong to a feature, the top of which
is no longer discernible, but which can be distinguished at a deeper level. In such
cases, it is important to make sure that these find concentrations with no context
are plotted, not simply regarded as surface or finds recovered during overburden
removal. If it is unclear whether this situation applies, it is advisable to lower the
archaeological layer by hand or by digging cross-sections at spots where concen-
trations are found to ascertain whether there is a feature context (See also Rensink
et. al 2006). Of course concentrations of waste can also occur without soil fea-
175
Conclusions
tures. The majority of the find distribution from the Palaeolithic and Mesolithic
and a large proportion of Neolithic finds are not associated with any soil features.
The activities occurred in a ‘featureless’ setting in the open air, or in a tent or hut
that left barely any soil features.
10.8 Conclusions
Clearly, the current condition of archaeological features is the result of complex

interaction between deposition and post-depositional processes. People originally
created the features, but over the past century their interventions in the landscape
have also been the biggest factor in the destruction of these traces of their ances-
tors. Of course people have also added new features to the subsurface archaeo-
logical resource over that period, albeit in no proportion to the destruction of
information on occupation and land use in earlier periods.
Despite the complexity of the processes, it is possible to make some generalisa-
tions about archaeological soil features. The more recent they are, the more clearly
they can be seen. This is because humans have produced steadily more (and more
kinds of) waste over time, because the number and size of soil features is increas-
ing, and because humans remain on the same site for longer. The number and
impact of post-depositional processes affecting soil features is also smaller,
because of the shorter time period.
If we look on a larger scale, at regional burial conditions, we can assume that the
degradation of soil features has been exacerbated by land reclamation (physical
disturbance) and drainage (increased bioturbation; decay of organic material).
And we can only guess at the impact of eutrophication and acid deposition.
The greatest threat to archaeological features – and in fact to entire archaeological
sites – is large-scale residential and industrial development. Archaeologists them-
selves play a not inconsiderable role in such processes. Firstly, because they sys-
tematically disturb the soil during their investigations, especially in area excava-
tions. More systematically, in fact, than the more incidental damage associated
with construction work. But that is not all. The information archaeologists gather
depends to a great extent on the question they are seeking to address and to the
methods and techniques used. Since excavation also means destruction, it is
essential that archaeologists ensure their research questions and methods are
entirely up to date.

11 Preservation and monitoring of
D.J. Huisman, M. Vorenhout, A. Smit, B.J.H. van Os, M. Manders
11.1 From degradation to in situ protection
The previous chapters presented an overview of degradation processes in various

types of archaeological remains, and of factors in the burial environment that
either foster or curb degradation. In this final chapter, our attention turns to the
application of this knowledge to the in situ preservation of archaeological sites, as
we consider how to devise a well-balanced protection plan. Identifying active deg-
radation processes and monitoring the burial environment are important aspects
of in situ protection, or at least they should be. This chapter looks at the para-
meters relevant to in situ protection, based largely on the previous chapters. In
general terms, we examine sampling and monitoring techniques that can be used
to determine these parameters.
This chapter is merely a review; it is not intended as a guide to applying the tech-
niques discussed. For a much more extensive account of a wide range of methods
and techniques, see the Archaeological Monitoring Standard (SAM) by Smit et al.
(2006a, b), which describes the techniques and their application in detail. The
SAM also considers the organisational, policy and practical aspects of in situ pro-
tection.
11.2 The process of preservation
11.2.1 A series of steps

Management and monitoring tend to be the final stages of a long process. The
legal framework and common practices may vary from country to country. How-
ever, there are several fundamental steps that should ideally be followed. The
viewpoint presented here may be biased to the situation in the Netherlands, but
we have tried to make it more universally applicable. The process of preservation
starts with the discovery or identification of an archaeological site. The second
step is to gather archaeological and pedological data by means of a field study.
These data can then be used to assess the physical and scientific quality of the
archaeological remains. The third step involves evaluating the site and awarding it
177
The process of preservation
‘site of archaeological importance’ status. A selection procedure then follows. If it

is possible to preserve the site in situ, it may be designated a scheduled monument
or given some other protected status (Zoetbrood et al. 1997). If this is not possi-
ble, the site can be excavated, a process also known as ‘preservation ex situ’ or
‘preservation by record’. If it is decided that the site should be preserved in situ, it
will often require active management to prevent further degradation.
91 Diagram of the process of evaluation, selection and in situ protection of an archaeologi-

cal site.

Preservation and monitoring of archaeological sites
The fourth step requires knowledge of the burial environment and any degrada-
tion processes that are occurring. The burial environment and the state of the
archaeological material must be evaluated and the key threats to the buried
archaeology at the site identified before any decision can be taken about the future
of the site (statutory protection, preservation ex situ, possible management meas-
ures). This essentially constitutes an initial assessment of the potential for preser-
vation in situ. The information derived from this assessment can then be used to
choose between (1) preservation in situ, (2) preservation in situ with a monitor-
ing programme, (3) preservation in situ with active management or (4) preserva-
tion ex situ. Monitoring involves measuring certain parameters repeatedly, or
even continuously, to determine whether any changes are taking place in the bur-
ial environment that might pose a risk to the quality of the subsurface archaeol-
ogy at the site. The first round of monitoring is known as the baseline survey. The
results of each round are evaluated, using the same criteria as the first. Monitoring
is thus a cyclical process. A particular monitoring round may lead to the conclu-
sion that the subsurface archaeology has undergone a major decline in quality
since the first assessment. In such cases, it might be necessary to re-evaluate the
site and repeat the selection process.
Figure 91 shows an overview of this procedure. The individual steps are examined
more closely in the following sections. First, however, the evaluation and selection
of sites as monuments warranting protection is discussed, even though strictly
speaking this is not part of the monitoring process.
11.2.2 Evaluation and selection

The need to evaluate and select archaeological sites for protection arises on a
regular basis. Clearly, a location where only a few shards have been preserved in
the ploughsoil will be less valuable than one containing inorganic find material,
well-preserved degradation-sensitive remains (such as textile and leather) and
well-preserved soil features. There is of course a large grey area between these two
extremes. A system for the evaluation of sites has therefore been developed (Dee-
ben et al. 1999). It was developed primarily for a Dutch context, and is universally
applied in archaeological research in the Netherlands (SIKB 2008; see Willems &
Brandt 2004 for an English translation). However, it is in theory virtually univer-
sally applicable.
The evaluation system classifies sites on the basis of three ‘values’, each of which
can be further broken down into several criteria.
179
Value: Criteria:
Visibility Beauty
Historical value
Physical quality Intactness
Preservation
Intrinsic quality Rarity
Research potential
Group value
Representativeness
Sites are compared on the basis of a points system, whereby points are awarded
for each criteria and then added together. A higher than average overall score, and
also higher than average scores in a certain category, may provide the justification
for classifying a site as warranting preservation. The factors in the ‘visibility’ and
‘intrinsic quality’ categories are archaeological and aesthetic. ‘Physical quality’
requires a little more explanation. ‘Intactness’ is a measure of the extent to which
a site has been disturbed by erosion, earthworking activities, building work etc.
The parameters considered are (1) the presence and (2) intactness of soil features,
(3) spatial intactness, (4) intactness of the stratigraphy, (5) find material in situ,
(6) intact spatial relationship between finds and (7) between finds and soil fea-
tures and (8) the extent to which organic human remains have survived, and the
quality of those remains. ‘Preservation’ refers to the extent to which degradation
processes have caused damage to or the loss of specific groups of finds or catego-
ries of material. The parameters considered are the state of preservation of arte-
facts (including metal) and the preservation of organic material.
In applying the above categories, it soon becomes clear that the criterion ‘preser-
vation’ is related mainly to the burial environment, and thus to regional varia-
tions in soil properties. In wetlands, more organic material such as wood, bone,
leather, textile etc. will have remained preserved than in well-drained poor sandy
soils, for example. To prevent all sites in certain regions from being classified as
not warranting preservation because of their poor condition, the system allows
some regional differentiation. Sites on dry Pleistocene soils, for example, are auto-
matically labelled ‘average’. Otherwise, they would all regarded as ineligible for
preservation because of the absence of organic remains (Deeben et al. 1999).
11.2.3 The initial assessment

Once an archaeological site is earmarked for preservation – and therefore quali-
fies for selection – the next question is whether preservation in situ is possible. In
this phase, a number of factors have to be considered, though in practice they are
often overlooked, or included only implicitly. Since they are essential parts of the
process of in situ preservation, we will describe them as clearly as possible here.

Various pieces of information are needed for the initial assessment of whether an
archaeological site warrants preservation in situ:
– What types of material are or might be present?

– What is the state of preservation of the archaeological remains?
– What is the soil structure?
– What are the current burial conditions?
– What conversion, decomposition and degradation processes can be shown to
be active at the moment?
– What conversion, decomposition and degradation processes might be active,
given the burial environment and soil composition?
– Is the situation likely to change – a change of land use, management, construc-
tion work, for example – and what will be the impact on conversion, decom-
position and degradation processes?
– Would it be possible to combat any conversion, decomposition and degrada-
tion processes by means of active management (such as covering, groundwater
management or changes to land use)?
In some cases it will be possible to answer these questions immediately on the

basis of earlier observations made as part of the evaluation process. In other cases,
extra observation or measurements will be needed. At this stage, it is important to
get a ‘good understanding of the system’, i.e. a reliable picture of the pedological
and hydrological processes and the impact any changes in them would be likely to
have on the aggressiveness of the burial environment in relation to the archaeo-
logical remains. We should, however, point out that there will always be some
degree of decomposition and conversion of archaeological material in the soil,
even ceramics and metal, depending on the type of material, the local burial con-
ditions and the presence of buffering components in the soil. These processes can
be accelerated or slowed down if changes are brought about in this system. In the
event of preservation in situ, therefore, it is always essential to establish what kind
of period can be allowed to go by before an unacceptable loss of archaeological
values is likely to occur. Preservation in situ should be viewed on a human times-
cale, in terms of generations, for example.
A number of outcomes are possible; these can be used to draw various conclu-
sions:
1. Degradation processes are proceeding so slowly that loss of archaeological val-

ues on a human timescale is unlikely.
Conclusion: preservation in situ is a possibility, perhaps combined with occasion-
al monitoring to check whether the situation has changed.
181
2. There is little or no degradation at the moment, though progressive changes in

the burial environment could trigger or intensify degradation processes.
Conclusion: preservation in situ is currently an option, combined with monitor-
ing so measures can be taken if degradation starts or accelerates.
3. The subsurface archaeology is degrading to such an extent that loss of infor-
mation is likely to occur within a few years (e.g. as a result of change), though
measures can be taken to curb this.
Conclusion: preservation in situ is still possible, though management measures
must be introduced as quickly as possible to curb degradation, with monitoring
before and after to determine whether they have had the desired effect.
4. The subsurface archaeology is degrading rapidly (e.g. as a result of change)
and no measures can be taken to stop the process.
Conclusion: preservation in situ is not possible. Consider preservation ex situ, i.e.
excavation; the site will not be selected.
In practice, it is common for only parts of a site to degrade. Only the shallow parts
for example, or only certain categories of material, resulting in a combination of
the categories mentioned above. In such situations, one must consider whether a
significant proportion of the site is under threat, and the extent of damage to the
overall information value. (Smit et al. 2006 a,b) incorporate this into the baseline
survey; here, we have reserved the term ‘baseline survey’ for the first round of
monitoring, and use the term ‘initial assessment’ to refer to the decision as to
whether physical preservation in situ is possible.) Such decisions are both very
important and very difficult.
Two points need to be highlighted in relation to the outcomes and conclusions
listed above. The first is that routine monitoring is pointless if no conclusions are
drawn on the basis of the results. Possible implications are that measures will have
to be taken to improve the situation (e.g. raising the water table) or that the site has
to be excavated. If a site is to be built on, the latter can cause problems. It might be
assumed that preservation in situ will be possible after a structure has been built on
the site. However, subsequent monitoring may show that the archaeological remains
are suffering damage, perhaps because the water table has been lowered for the new
development. It will then no longer be possible to excavate the site. In such situa-
tions, monitoring makes sense only if intervention in the burial environment is
possible, and enforceable. This is not always the case, however, often for financial
reasons. If a site is degrading but there are no funds available to excavate it, moni-
toring data can be used in support of efforts to raise the necessary funding. How-
ever, monitoring at sites where it is not possible to intervene is still a useful way of
building our knowledge, allowing better decisions to be taken at other sites.
Our second remark concerns that fact that the decision to excavate a site (preser-
vation ex situ or ‘preservation by record’) should not be taken too lightly. It is

important to realise that an excavation itself causes significant loss of informa-

tion, even if it is conducted by the best archaeologists using the latest techniques.
An excavation changes an archaeological site, with its spatial context and stratig-
raphy, into a series of reports and maps and a collection of finds. Afterwards, no
soil features will exist, merely an interpretation of the soil features at selected
levels; no stratigraphy, just an interpretation of a number of profiles, and only a
selection of artefacts, botanical remains, bone remains and other find categories.
This loss of information must be weighed against the loss caused by degradation
processes affecting one or more categories of materials before any decision is
taken to excavate.
11.2.4 Initial assessment, baseline survey and subsequent monitoring

The baseline survey is the first round of measurements in a monitoring pro-
gramme (see also figure 91). It indicates the values or series of measurements that
need to be checked in subsequent rounds to establish whether the situation is
changing (for the better or worse). In the SAM (Smit et al. 2006 a, b) the initial
assessment is regarded as the baseline survey. Here, however, we distinguish
between the two, since these two stages clearly have a different purpose, and take
place at different times. An initial assessment sets the physical parameters for
monitoring, while a baseline survey is the first round of monitoring itself, pro-
ducing the values against which any future change is measured. We have made
this distinction in order to highlight the different objectives. In practice, however,
individual measurements or series and other data from the initial assessment will
often serve as a baseline survey.
Any worthwhile monitoring programme – of which the baseline survey forms
part – must include a group of parameters that shows (1) the aggressiveness of the
burial environment and (2) whether conversion, decomposition or degradation
processes are active in the subsurface archaeology at the site. These parameters
can be based on the results of the initial assessment. Some will be direct measure-
ments, while others provide more indirect information. Parameters must also be
sensitive enough to ensure that changes in burial conditions are relatively easy to
detect. This applies, for example, to changes in the water table.
After a baseline survey, all the parameters in the chosen group should have been
measured at more or less the same time (preferably in the same year and the same
season). For some parameters, a figure will be available for each sample or site; in
other cases, it will not always be possible to express the parameters in figures, and
in other cases the data will consist of a series of measurement taken over time.
This last option is for example most appropriate for parameters that can vary
sharply over a short period of time, whereby the range is more important than the
exact value at any given moment. This applies, for example, to the water table.
Smit et al. (2006a,b) are in favour of standard packages of parameters for different
183
Analysis of archaeological remains for monitoring purposes
situations. However, since sites differ so strongly in terms both of their archaeo-
logical material content and of their burial environment, in practice any such
package will often have to be adapted to the specific conditions at a site.
The monitoring programme should not end with a baseline survey, as unfortu-
nately happens in all too many cases. A monitoring programme is designed to
detect any changes in the burial environment and in the preservation of the sub-
surface archaeological resource. No prescription can be given for the frequency of
monitoring. This will depend on (1) the parameter’s sensitivity to change, (2) the
likely pace of change, (3) the likely impact of change and, possibly, (4) the damage
caused when measurements are taken. Cost can also be a factor. A costly measure-
ment (of soil moisture, for example) might for example be approximated by a
simpler and less costly one (e.g. of the water table). As a result, it might be neces-
sary to measure some parameters more often than others.
11.2.5 Degradation factors and measuring techniques

A large number of factors can potentially have a bearing on the evaluation, initial
assessment and monitoring of an archaeological site. See the previous chapters
for more details. For all those factors, there are different parameters that can be
measured using different techniques. An overview of the key factors affecting deg-
radation – and other relevant properties of the soil and groundwater – and how
they relate to each other is given in the following sections. For each, we indicate
what parameters can be measured for an initial assessment or monitoring pro-
gramme, and what methods can be used. We have tried to give as complete a
picture as possible, including both techniques that are used more or less as stand-
ard for this purpose and techniques that have currently been used only in a few
pilot studies. Various approaches can be taken to monitoring and initial assess-
ment. They are summarised in the sections below. For more details on their
implementation, see (Smit et al. 2006a,b).
11.3 Analysis of archaeological remains for monitoring purposes
The first approach is to study the archaeological remains at the site. This tells us
(1) what materials are present or can be expected at the site, (2) what conversion
and degradation processes are active and (3) how advanced they are, i.e. to what
extent archaeological information has already been lost. The advantage of this
approach is the it immediately gives us information about the degradation of the
subsurface archaeology. However, it also has three major disadvantages. Firstly,
this approach requires archaeological material to be collected from an in situ con-
text at the site; material collected in the past is often unsuitable for this type of
analysis because of the conservation treatments it has undergone and the effects

of long-term storage; it also gives information about the situation in the past,
rather than the current situation. Obtaining material from an in situ context will
involve some form of disruption to the site, in the form of boreholes, test pits or
trial trenches. Trial trenches will probably be the preferred option, given the fact
that the stratigraphy of the find material is very important. The second drawback
lies in the fact that the distribution of archaeological material over a site is often
very heterogeneous which means that collecting enough material and estimating
how representative it is can be a problem in a small-scale study. The third draw-
back is that it is difficult to determine whether degradation processes are still
active, or are merely a reflection of past burial conditions or pre-burial decay.
A study of archaeological remains might form part of an initial assessment and/
or a baseline survey and/or later monitoring rounds. Such a study requires ‘new’
material to be obtained from the site, along with stratigraphical and pedological
information. In most cases, this will entail a small excavation, perhaps in the form
of small test pits or trial trenches. If the stratigraphy of a site is known, and the
material is small and evenly spread, boreholes may be sufficient. It is essential to
know the depth and stratigraphical position of the find material in order to draw
conclusions about the condition of the material throughout the site. It is also
important to consider to what extent the condition of the material obtained can
be regarded as typical of the entire site, or a section of the site. Knowledge of the
topography and the homogeneity of the soil structure is essential for such an
estimation to be made.
Not all materials are suitable for an initial assessment/baseline survey/monitoring
round. Some – such as textiles and leather – are so vulnerable that their presence
indicates only that burial conditions are good. They are often so rare that it is
impossible to conduct a targeted campaign to find them. Furthermore, one must
consider whether it is right to perform destructive research on such material,
given the archaeological value of individual finds. Other materials give us little or
no information about degradation processes. This is true, for example, of stone,
flint, ceramic materials and glass. Suitable materials include wood, bone, botani-
cal macroremains and non-precious metals. A study of such finds will reveal the
extent and type of degradation that has occurred.
Wood (see chapter 2):

Degree of degradation
Type of degradation:
– None, or only erosion bacteria: good conditions.
– Fungi: unfavourable conditions as a result of desiccation and availability of
oxygen.
– Woodborers active: unfavourable conditions due to salinity, availability of oxygen
and water temperature.
185
Analysis of archaeological remains for monitoring purposes
Bone (see chapter 3):

Type of degradation:
– None, or only bacterial: good conditions.
– Fungi: unfavourable conditions as a result of desiccation, abundant oxygen
supply and low pH.
Non-precious metals (see chapters 6, 7, 8):

Type of degradation (composition of corrosion layer):
– Corrosion layer oxidic: less favourable conditions due to presence of oxygen.
– Corrosion layer sulphidic: more or less favourable conditions for many metals,
except iron. Particularly sensitive to oxygen if burial conditions change.
– Corrosion layer carbonates: fairly good conditions due to relatively high pH.
At least two categories of materials that is highly relevant to the degradation, pres-
ervation and monitoring of archaeological sites do not feature in this book: non-
carbonised botanical remains and insect remains. Botanical remains group consist
of all kinds of plant remains, analysis of which is often used to study natural veg-
etation and human crop cultivation. Two categories – pollen and seeds, also
known as botanical macroremains – are often used to study the degradation of
archaeological sites. However, they are very vulnerable to degradation. Although
the precise mechanisms are not known, it seems likely that the degradation of
botanical remains is analogous to that of wood, i.e. limited degradation by bacte-
ria in a waterlogged, low-oxygen environment, and strong degradation by fungi,
in particular, in drier, oxygen-rich conditions (see for example Vernimmen 2002,
Brinkkemper 2006, Jones et al. 2007a).
Analysis of pollen and/or botanical macroremains allows the type of degradation
to be determined. One advantage of this lies in the fact that pollen and macrore-
mains are commonly found at archaeological sites. This allows us to investigate
two things. Firstly, the degree of degradation to the remains. Degradation scales
have been developed for both pollen and seeds (Vernimmen 2002, Jones et al.
2007a). The degradation-sensitivity of different kinds of plant can also be used. In
the event of strong degradation, only the most resistant varieties will remain, and
the species richness will be low. Where there is little or no degradation, even
highly degradation-sensitive varieties will potentially still be present, and the site
will have greater species richness. Analysis of the species richness of samples, and
determination of the corrosion-sensitivity of the species found, is an alternative
method of identifying the degree of degradation (Brinkkemper 2006).
Insect remains form another group of organic remains that can be used to iden-
tify past environmental conditions. They are also vulnerable to degradation (see

e.g. Kenward et al. 2008). Although also for these remains the exact mechanisms
are unknown, it stand to reason that their degradation would follow lines similar
to the degradation of leather or animal-derived textiles. Kenward & Lange (1998)
have developed a very detailed degradation scheme for insect remains, that can be
used to assess and monitor degradation processes.
11.4 Characterisation of the burial environment
11.4.1 Approach
Another possible approach to measuring degradation processes and the threat
they pose to archaeological sites is to characterise the burial environment. By
measuring specific parameters it is possible to determine what degradation proc-
esses might potentially occur in the archaeological material. Degradation occurs
because archaeological remains are not resistant to the prevailing – or changing –
burial conditions. Organic matter is the most reactive generally occurring solid
component in the soil. The presence or absence of organic matter determines the
impact of oxygen or other oxidising substances (iron and manganese oxides, sul-
phate, nitrate) on degradation processes, whether reducing conditions or pyrite
formation occur, and whether oxygen can penetrate to the archaeological mate-
rial. Transport of reactive components and water is influenced by the geohydro-
logical setting, and by bulk density and pore volume, which in turn depend lar-
egely on the grain size – i.e. the clay or sand content – of a soil or sediment. The
third factor of importance is the presence of lime, which buffers the pH value of
the soil between 7.5 and 8. It is wise to measure these parameters in the initial
assessment, or at least in the baseline survey, because they allow us to predict how
sensitive the soil is likely to be to any changes. Without measuring the organic
matter, lime, sand and chalk content, there is less point in measuring other, more
sensitive, parameters such as the oxygen content, the pH or the redox potential.
The advantage of the burial environment approach is that the measurements can
be taken relatively simply, and often with little damage to the site. Most can be
taken using borehole cores, probes, dipwells or samples from water filters. Some
of these parameters can be regularly or continually monitored, allowing time
series to be produced and any trends to be identified.
The biggest drawback of this approach is that the measurements do not give direct
information about what is happening to the archaeological material. In theory, we
know what degradation processes can occur in different materials in different
burial environments, so measurements of the burial environment mainly indicate
potential conversion and degradation processes. However, there are several levels
of interpretation between soil measurements and conversion or degradation
processes, so it is not immediately clear whether these processes are actually active.
187
Characterisation of the burial environment
A further problem lies in the fact that we know relatively little about the speed of
conversion and degradation processes in the soil. Moreover, though we do have
some idea of the physical speed of some processes – such as metal corrosion – in
certain conditions, this does not mean that archaeological information will be
lost at the same rate. Deducing how rapidly such processes are likely to impact
from the moment the burial environment changes, and how severe that impact
will be, is therefore no easy matter.
A number of measuring techniques and parameters that might be included in a
monitoring programme are set out below. Several things can potentially go wrong,
however. In order to recognise and resolve measuring problems, it is advisable to
have measurements taken by specialists with background knowledge of analytical
measuring techniques and of soil science or geochemistry. They should also be
involved in the interpretation of the data.
11.4.2 General conditions

The first step in any characterisation or monitoring operation is to gather infor-
mation on the general properties of the burial environment. General knowledge
of the geology, hydrology and pedology of a site – and of any archaeological
remains present – is needed for a balanced decision as to what measuring meth-
ods should be applied, and how frequently. One at least needs basic information
about parent material, soil type, grain size and organic matter content and about
the types of archaeological material that might be present, as well as the depth of
any archaeological remains. A general picture of the hydrological situation is also
essential, including a rough indication of the water table, seepage or infiltration
and the presence or absence of saltwater. Finally, one must know about land use
in the area.
These basic data are not used directly for monitoring or characterisation. They do
however provide the framework, and determine which measuring techniques are
likely to yield relevant data. Monitoring the water table, for example, will be fairly
pointless if it is certain that it is always deeper than the archaeological remains.
Much of this information will already be known, or can be easily obtained from
maps and a field visit.
11.4.3 pH and buffering

The pH of the soil has a bearing on the preservation of bone, metals and textiles
(see chapters 3 and 5-8). Soil pH can be measured by taking samples and having
them analysed in a laboratory. Measurements must be taken soon after sampling,
as the pH can alter as a result of reactions between constituents of the soil and
oxygen. Soil pH can also alter due to degassing of CO2 ,especially if soil samples
are dried. Differences of almost two pH units have been encountered (pH 6.3 in
situ and pH 8.1 in dried soil samples) in waterlogged gyttja (Matthiesen, National

Museum Denmark, personal communication). pH electrodes can also be used to

take pH measurements directly from the soil, in profile pits for example (cf. Huis-
man and Theunissen 2008), or a probe can be used to take measurements from
the surface (cf. Matthiesen 2004). pH can also be measured in groundwater sam-
ples. However, such measurements must be taken in the field immediately after
sampling, otherwise the pH of the water can alter as the CO2 level drops, or as a
result of a reaction between dissolved Fe2+ and oxygen (Appelo and Postma,
1999).
Direct pH measurements indicate the current acidity of the soil. However, it is
also often important to establish how far the pH is likely to change under the
influence of external factors. Two compounds are particularly relevant in this
respect: lime and pyrite. Lime in the soil keeps the pH buffered at around 8.2.
Acidification causes lime to dissolve, but as long as lime is present, the soil will
remain alkaline. Lime content is therefore very important when it comes to deter-
mining a soil’s sensitivity to acidification. At lower pH values, there is some buff-
ering thanks to the decomposition of clay minerals and aluminium oxides. How-
ever, the fact that buffering of this kind occurs at fairly low pH values (5-4.5 and
4.5-3.5 respectively) makes this less relevant. At such pH levels, any sensitive
material will already have been damaged. All over the world, the presence of lime
in the soil is measured in the field by reacting a small amount of soil material with
hydrochloric acid (1N HCl). Lime-rich soil will fizz. The standard package offered
by all soil laboratories includes analysis of the lime content of soil samples. Vari-
ous techniques are available; see also Smit et al. (2005a).
Sulphides such as pyrite (FeS2) can occur in waterlogged soils, particularly in sedi-
ments that have a high organic matter content and/or are currently in contact with
seawater, or have been in the past. The sulphides react with oxygen – if it becomes
available – producing sulphuric acid, among other things. This can cause strong
acidification in soils that contain no lime, producing a light-yellow mineral
(jarosite) which is easily recognised with the naked eye. In soils that contain lime,
the sulphuric acid will react with the lime to form gypsum, keeping the pH alka-
line. A protective layer of iron oxides can form on the sulphide minerals, impeding
further contact with oxygen. However, the reaction does not stop altogether. Only
if the lime content is too low to buffer all the sulphuric acid will acidification actu-
ally occur. The formation of gypsum can cause damage in itself, however, includ-
ing to any archaeological remains present (see below; Huisman et al. 2008).
In soils where pyrite or other sulphides might present a problem, it is advisable to
take and analyse soil samples. The simplest method is probably to determine the
total sulphur content, using element analysers, x-ray fluorescence (XRF) or ICP-
OES, provided it is calibrated correctly. If the levels of sulphur are significantly
higher than can be accounted for by organic material (the rule of thumb is 1S =
100C), sulphides and/or sulphates are probably present in the soil. Further analy-
189
sis of sulphide and sulphate contents can allow the proportion of sulphide already
converted to be estimated. Very complex ways of doing this have been developed
in the past (Buurman et al. 1996), but a simple element analyser has recently been
used to determine the ratio (Huisman et al. 2008d). In most cases, however, it will
be enough to establish the fact that sulphides are present.
11.4.4 Freshwater and saltwater

Most archaeological sites are in a permanently freshwater or permanently salt-
water environment. Where this is abundantly clear, as in the case of marine sites
or terrestrial sites fed by rainwater, this factor requires no further consideration.
At other locations, however, this will not be so clear, or conditions may fluctuate –
between freshwater and brackish, for example, or there may be a gradual change
from one to the other. This can have an adverse effect on the archaeology. Salt has
a negative impact on metal corrosion (see the chapters on metals). The preserva-
tion of textiles – particularly silk – is also affected by the salt content (see the
textiles chapter). Under water, salinisation can lead to major damage by animals
(such as ship-worm) which do not thrive in freshwater conditions (see the chap-
ter on wood). In clayey soils, freshwater-saltwater transitions can destroy the soil
92 Depth profiles of pore water composition at three locations at a site below a former
seabed (Swifterbant S2), some 50 years after it was drained. Since the soil was too imper-
meable for pore water to be sampled, extracts from soil samples were used: water soluble
salt extracts for Na+, Cl–, Ca2+ and 0.01 M CaCl2 for NH4+ and NO3–. Salt (NaCl) is clearly still
present in the deepest soil layers. Ca2+ and SO42– are probably associated with the presence
of gypsum in the soil. At Sw25 nitrate (NO3–) appears to have penetrated the soil, possibly
as a result of farming activities nearby. Ammonia is associated with reducing conditions at
the bottom of the soil profile. (From Huisman et al. 2008b).

structure, as clay aggregates disintegrate, with disastrous consequences for the

structure of the site (Macphail and Cruise 2000).
The simplest way of measuring fluctuations between freshwater and saltwater is
to determine the electrical conductivity (EC). This can be done in a simple man-
ner using electrodes in open water or (in groundwater or soil pore water) by tak-
ing samples. It should however be noted that dissolved ions like HCO3–, NH4+,
Ca2+, Fe2+ or HS– can cause raised EC values. Standard analyses for determining
the types and quantities of dissolved salts in soil material can also be used. In this
way, depth profiles can for example be produced – as shown in figure 92 – show-
ing the extent of natural salinisation in former seabeds that have been converted
to polder (Huisman et al. 2008b).
The above techniques are relatively simple, and highly suited to monitoring pro-
grammes. However, for an initial characterisation, one often needs to know more
93 Piper plot of the water composition at a series of sites in the Netherlands where archae-
ological wood was found. The left triangle shows the cation composition, the right the
composition of the anions. In the diamond in the centre the composition of the water at the
sites ranges from saline (right point, e.g. two marine sites) to freshwater (left; e.g. the ter-
restrial site at Vleuten). The other sites lie between saline and freshwater. Since they do not
lie in a straight line between freshwater and saltwater, but on a curve that tends towards
the bottom point of the diamond, these are probably saline or brackish sites where the
freshwater content is increasing. The two samples that lie more towards the top point are
probably being influenced by the oxidation of pyrite (see section on acidification below),
which has raised the SO42– levels (Huisman et al. 2008c).
191
about the composition of the groundwater. At sites with saltwater seepage or lat-
eral infiltration, it can be important to know whether the salt content is increasing
or decreasing. Or one might need to establish whether the soil moisture comes
from rainwater or from saline or brackish seepage. This can be determined on the
basis of the fact that positive ions adsorb to soil material, and thus move through
a system more slowly than negative ions, which do not. Groundwater samples
analysed for their total cation and anion composition (Na+, K+, Ca2+, Mg2+, Cl–,
SO42–, PO43–, HCO3– and SO42–) can be plotted in a Piper diagram (Appelo and
Postma 1999), an example of which is shown in figure 93 (see also Matthiesen
2008). Freshwater and saltwater samples are represented at fixed points in the
diagram, by Ca2+ and HCO3– or Na+ and Cl–. However, as a result of the difference
in the speed with which the positive ions pass through the system, samples from
soils where freshwater is displaced by saltwater shift towards Ca2+ and Cl–, and
those from soils where saltwater is being displaced by freshwater are found more
towards Na+ and HCO3– (see for a more detailed explanation Appelo and Postma
1999).
11.4.5 Freshwater and saltwater; parameters

The dynamics of groundwater, soil water and oxygen plays a prominent role in
studies of the degradation and preservation of archaeological sites. For many
materials, the availability of oxygen is the key factor controlling degradation,
either because oxygen itself actively causes corrosion, or because the availability
of oxygen is needed for the activity of harmful organisms or microorganisms.
Changes in moisture levels also cause physical damage to many materials. It is
useful to consider the various terms associated with the dynamics of water and
oxygen.
Groundwater is the water that flows through the soil. The water table is the water
level in a ‘dipwell’ – a tube with a filter in the bottom through which water from
the soil flows into the tube. Soil moisture is the water in the soil, both above and
below the water table. The moisture content is the soil moisture content in a soil
horizon or sample, expressed as a percentage of the entire sample. Soil is water-
logged if all the gaps and pores are filled with water; if air is also present, that part
of the soil is not waterlogged. A distinction can therefore be drawn between the
saturated zone and unsaturated zone. Fine-grained soil material and peat, in par-
ticular, can hold large quantities of water. The boundary between the saturated
and unsaturated zone can lie above the water table. The reverse can happen in
areas characterised by seepage, where the water table can be higher than the
boundary between the saturated and unsaturated zones. In extreme cases, it can
even be higher than the surface. This occurs because a water table measurement
is actually a measurement of pressure, and seepage pressure can reach considera-
ble levels in some areas.

Around 21% of air consists of oxygen (O2). In the unsaturated zone, oxygen can
penetrate the soil through empty pores, becoming directly available in the soil.
Oxygen dissolves in water to only a limited extent, to a maximum of 11.3 mg/L or
0.35 mmol/L air (at 10oC). As a result of this, and of its low diffusion rate, oxygen
availability is much lower in the saturated zone. The same applies to surface water,
though it should be noted that strong water movement, such as that caused by
ships’ propellers, can enhance oxygen availability. Rainwater is rich in oxygen,
which it absorbs from the air. If rainwater penetrates deep into the soil, the oxy-
gen can be consumed by bacteria that metabolise organic material, which is then
fully or partially converted, producing carbon dioxide (CO2). As a result, the oxy-
gen is removed from the water. The pace of this change depends on the flow rate
of the water in the soil and on the levels and reactivity of organic material. In
areas where rainwater infiltrates the soil, the shallowest groundwater will in the-
ory contain oxygen, and oxygen content will decline with depth. In seepage areas,
where groundwater wells up from greater depths, the shallowest groundwater
often contains no oxygen.
Besides the organic matter content, the presence of dissolved iron or manganese
also has a bearing on oxygen availability. As iron hydroxides oxidise organic mate-
rial, the iron dissolves. If this dissolved iron comes into contact with oxygen-rich
groundwater, it will immediately precipitate, creating more iron hydroxides. Since
dissolved iron is almost always present in reduced groundwater, this mechanism
often causes the pronounced redox transition between oxic and anoxic ground-
water.
A redox reaction involves the transfer of electrons from an oxidising agent (e.g.
oxygen) to a reducing agent, such as organic matter, a process often caused by
bacteria. They decompose organic matter, deriving energy from it, in a process
that also requires oxygen. Iron oxides and sulphate, which is common in seawater,
can also oxidise organic matter, being converted into dissolved iron or sulphide by
iron- or sulphate-reducing bacteria. Dissolved iron and sulphide react immedi-
ately when they come into contact, forming iron sulphides and disulphides such
as pyrite (see below).
The redox potential is used as a measure of the ratio between the different start
and end products of redox reactions in the groundwater. It is measured by bring-
ing an inert electrode – usually made of platinum – into contact with the soil
moisture, causing electrons to be exchanged with the dissolved substances. The
potential that builds up – relative to a reference electrode – is the redox potential.
This can indicate what type of corrosion metals are being subjected to (see the
chapters on metals), or whether potentially problematic compounds such as iron
sulphides (see below) may be present.
Figures 94A and B shows in diagrammatic form how water tables, moisture con-
tents and oxygen contents are related in seepage and infiltration areas. Water
193
94A, B Schematic
representations of
B
the relationship between
water tables, saturated
zones and redox zones.
A: Differences in infiltra-
tion and seepage areas.
B: Seasonal fluctuations
in lowlands with ditches,
based on higher levels
of precipitation and less
transpiration in winter,
and less precipitation
and greater transpira-
tion in the summer.
tables are strongly influenced by rainfall. Water tables and moisture contents can
therefore fluctuate sharply over short timescales, particularly in infiltration areas.
Winters in northwest Europe are generally relatively wet, and summers relatively
dry. This seasonal variation is enhanced by the fact that vegetation transpires little
in the winter. Seepage flows tend to have less impact than seasonal fluctuations.
Seasonal changes in the ratio of seepage water to rainwater infiltration in a soil
can also cause an annual cycle in the water composition (including its oxygen
content) (see figure 94B).

11.4.6 Freshwater and saltwater; applications

Two parameters are very important when it comes to the impact of the soil mois-
ture regime on the degradation of the archaeological heritage. The availability of
oxygen determines whether oxic degradation of metals occurs (see the chapters
on metals), whether fungi can actively degrade organic material (see the chapters
on wood, textile and leather) and whether any pyrite in the soil oxidises. In wood
buried in the soil, the moisture content of the material itself determines whether
enough oxygen can become available to allow fungal damage. In the absence of
further information, we can assume that this also applies to other organic materi-
als like bone, leather, textiles and botanical macroremains. However, these two
parameters are very difficult to analyse in archaeological find material itself. It is
virtually impossible to prevent oxygen from penetrating the soil and distorting
measurements when sampling or using sensors, and it is not possible to measure
moisture contents in archaeological material without actually exposing the mate-
rial, and thus affecting or disrupting it. Soil moisture profiles are easier to meas-
ure (see below), though they do not necessarily correspond to levels in the objects
themselves. This interaction has never been thoroughly investigated. In practice,
therefore, other parameters are generally measured in an attempt to approximate
the impact of oxygen and moisture levels. These parameters vary sharply over
time; a single shower of rain has an immediate impact on the soil moisture con-
tent and availability of oxygen. They are therefore often measured repeatedly, or
in time series. A brief summary of the most commonly used techniques is given
below.
The water table is measured using a dipwell. The water table is the level to which
the water rises in the dipwell. The simplest way of measuring it is to use a tape
measure and a weight. Repeated measurements will involve repeat visits to the
site. Pressure gauges combined with a datalogger are often used nowadays to take
continuous measurements, giving a very detailed picture of fluctuations in the
water table (see figure 95).
The advantage of measuring the water table is that it is relatively straightforward.

Time series and trends can also easily be recorded (see also Holden 2006). Given
the fact that the water table is often monitored for agricultural and environmental
purposes, data may sometimes be available for an archaeological site, or an inte-
grated monitoring programme can be set up for archaeology, environment and
agriculture. Moreover, monitoring of groundwater can be combined with hydro-
logical modelling, which makes predictions of changes in the burial environment
feasible (see for a prime example the Bryggen project: Christensen et al. 2008, De
Beer et al. 2008, De Beer & Matthiesen , 2008, Matthiesen et al. 2008). The main
drawback of water table monitoring is that the level of the water table does not
correlate directly with soil moisture content. In sandy soils the saturated zone
195
95A, B Examples of
water table monitoring
on various timescales.
A: Nieuw-Dordrecht
dipwell site 23; Monitor-
ing of a wooden track-
way in upland peat, with
measurements every
two weeks (Huisman and
Theunissen 2008).
Depths relative to the
surface. The depth of the
trackway is indicated by
a grey band line. Filter A
is above the level of the
trackway; B and C are
below it. The water levels A
in these filters frequently
drops below the level of the trackway for
extended periods of time. Note the large
differences in water levels in the dipwells,
which could be related to the low perme-
ability of the peat layers. The levels in
dipwell C show a delay relative to those in
dipwells A and B due to slow infiltration
of rainwater. B: Example of water table
monitoring using a datalogger, recording
the water table every three hours. Archae-
ological site near Hemmen. The top of the
archeological layer is shown as a straight
line. A clear variation in the water table
over time is visible. One level is near the
archaeological level, the other is higher.
M. Vorenhout, VU University Amsterdam. B
above the water table will be small, but in clay and peat, in particular, the bound-
ary between the saturated and unsaturated zones can lie far above the water
table.
To counter this problem, direct soil moisture measurements are sometimes taken
using TDR (time domain reflectrometry), neutron probes or conductivity meas-
urements (e.g. Smit 2007, Peacock and Turner-Walker 2006). Again, it is possible
to produce time series – as shown in figure 96 – by taking repeated measurements,
or by connecting the monitoring equipment to a datalogger (e.g. Graham et al.
2008; Hughes et al. 2006; Reed and Martens 2008). The advantage of this method
is that it gives a direct picture of the soil moisture regime, and of any changes in
it over time. The biggest drawback lies in the fact that no direct measurements of

96 Example of relative soil mois-

ture content monitoring at a site
near Aardenburg in the province
of Zeeland, the Netherlands. The
relative soil moisture content was
measured with frequency domain
reflectometry (FDR) using the
EnviroSmart™ (Sentek Sensor
Technologies). Results from four
depths are shown: 10, 30, 50 and
100 cm. The ploughsoil dries out
considerably in july. This also has
a minor effect at approx. 30 cm,
but the deeper samples seem
unaffected. M. Vorenhout,
VU University Amsterdam.
moisture content in archaeological objects have yet been taken. Absolute soil
moisture measurements also require information on the porosity of the soil, and
they are not always available. However, relative changes in soil moisture contents
are easily observed.
As indicated above, there is a method for measuring oxygen content directly in the
soil (Matthiesen et al. 2007; Kretschmar et al. 2008a). However, it is very difficult
to install monitoring equipment in the soil without introducing oxygen from the
air (or from water containing dissolved oxygen), thus distorting the measure-
ments. Matthiesen et al. (2007) succeeded in accurately measuring oxygen con-
tents in soft sediment. However, if the soil is coarser, direct measurements can
present major problems. Experience with the BACPOLES project suggest that
reliable oxygen measurements can be made only if the equipment is installed in
the soil, linked to a datalogger, and then used to take measurements over a long
period (several months). This is possible only in burial environments that quickly
recover from the disruption caused when oxygen is introduced along with the
equipment. Oxygen measurements have for example been successfully taken on
the seabed and beneath buildings in Amsterdam, for the monitoring of wood
degradation (Gregory et al. 2008; Kretschmar et al. 2008b; Manders et al. 2008).
Redox measurements are commonly used nowadays as an alternative for oxygen
measurements. This is in fact one of the most frequently used methods in moni-
toring archaeological sites (e.g. Huisman and Theunissen 2008; Huisman et al.
197
2008b; Matthiesen et al. 2007; Smit et al. 2005a; Smit 2007). Probes with platinum
electrodes are often used, as they are easy to install in the soil (Smit et al. 2005a,
2006a,b). By inserting the probe into the soil in stages, and taking a measurement
at each stage, a redox profile can be developed (see figure 97a). Problems similar
to those associated with oxygen measurements (disturbing the soil environment)
may occur, but seem to be less frequent. Probes are now available with platinum
electrodes at fixed depths. Redox electrodes can also be positioned in the soil and
the redox potential continually monitored using a datalogger. This has been used
most frequently in a marine context (Manders et al. 2008; Vorenhout et al. 2004),
but it is also used at terrestrial sites (see for example figure 97b). The key problem
is associated with fouling of the electrodes, which can cause them to give false
measurements after a time. This problem is particularly common in marine envi-
ronments. The influence of fouling has not been fully identified in archaeological
applications. Doubts have also been raised as to the reliability of redox values
measured by electrodes, which tend to correlate poorly with redox values based
on measurements of redox-determining substances (Schüring et al. 2004). Fur-
thermore, it can sometimes take a long time before the measurements are stable/
reliable. However, great accuracy is not essential for archaeological applications.
The key thing is to identify the boundary between oxic and anoxic burial condi-
tions, and this is generally possible.
The main advantage of redox measurements is that they are relatively easy to
obtain. Their biggest disadvantage lies in the fact that the values are sometimes
difficult to interpret. The severity of the degradation or the rates of decay proc-
esses cannot simply be derived from the redox scale (even though this is suggested
by degradation categories based on a redox scale as in Smit et al. 2006a,b). The
redox scale in fact indicates whether a certain process could occur. Here, it is not
the absolute value that is important, but whether the value is above a certain limit
that has a bearing on degradation processes.
Other approaches are also possible. If anaerobically sampled groundwater in a
dipwell contains iron, oxygen is highly unlikely to be present. If profiles or good-
quality borehole cores are available – and they should form part of any initial
assessment – the soil colour is also a good indication. Blue in clay soils or grey (i.e.
no ochre/yellow colours) in sandy soils at and around the water table almost
always indicates that no oxygen is present. At the boundary between oxic and
iron-reducing groundwater thick orange layers of iron ore can sometimes be seen,
and are most pronounced in seepage areas.
Sulphur-reducing conditions are indicated by the typical smell of rotten eggs
(caused by H2S gas); the oxidation of sulphides can sometimes be recognised by
the absence of jarosite – a yellow, powdery mineral – particularly when the soil is
lime-free.

97A, B Redox measure-

ments. A: Redox profiles
measured with a probe
with platinum electrodes
which is introduced into
the soil in stages. Nieuw
Dordrecht peat trackway
(Huisman and
Theunissen 2008).
Measurements at six
locations along the
trackway indicate that
the majority of it lies in
the oxic zone. B: Exam-
ple of redox profiles
measured at a terrestrial
site (Hemmen) using a
datalogger. Depths in
metres. The variation in
groundwater level is
also shown. It is remark-
able that the redox
potential shows a sud-
den increase at
5.9 metres. This coin-
cides, however, with the
depth of groundwater
level fluctuations.
M. Vorenhout, VU
Amsterdam.
11.4.7 Active degradation processes

Another strategy for measuring degradation processes and risks to archaeological
sites involves attempting to establish what conversion and degradation processes
are active without using the archaeological material present. One option is to
introduce fresh material at or near an archaeological site and retrieve it at various
time intervals to study the impact of conversion processes. This option is exam-
ined in more detail below (section 11.4.8.). Another possible approach is to meas-
199
ure breakdown products in the soil, which can indicate the speed of decomposi-
tion and the type of process that is occurring. This approach is still in its infancy,
however, and it is not yet certain whether it will ever be applicable. A test which
attempted to distinguish between damage to wood caused by erosion bacteria and
by fungi proved unsuccessful, as both processes produced the same breakdown
products (Veld 2005). An attempt to use CO2 levels as a measure of the speed of
decomposition (Pollard 2008) will probably encounter similar problems. All con-
version and decomposition processes in organic material – including those that
have no impact on the archaeological information content – produce the same
amount of CO2. Levels of carbon dioxide will also be affected by the total organic
matter content of the soil, by the dissolving and precipitation of carbonates and
by gases from deeper soil layers. A third option would be to use microscopic tech-
niques to identify traces of degradation processes in the soil. This option is exam-
ined in section 11.4.9.
11.4.8 Introduction of test material

One way of testing whether degradation processes are active is to use fresh mate-
rial introduced into the soil. By introducing iron and/or copper into a soil, for
example, we can establish what type of corrosion is occurring (e.g. oxic or sul-
phidic; see Williams et al. 2008). We can also determine how active the corrosion
processes are, or how rapidly they are proceeding (e.g. Matthiesen et al. 2007; Pol-
lard et al., 2004a,b, Wilson et al. 2004). Wood or other material can be buried and
retrieved after a time to assess the extent of degradation. This technique has been
used to some extent already, particularly at marine sites (e.g. Gregory 1999; Gre-
gory et al. 2008), and tests have also been conducted at terrestrial sites (e.g. Wil-
liams et al. 2008). In all these examples, the burial environment was also moni-
tored.
The biggest advantage of this strategy is that it allows us to identify what processes
are active at the present moment. Though past processes will have left their mark
on archaeological material, fresh material will be unaffected. The biggest draw-
back is that fresh material does not necessarily provide a good model of the
behaviour of archaeological material in the soil. Metals form a corrosion layer or
patina, or influence the burial environment in some way. Fresh metal in the soil
does not have any protective layer, and will probably therefore corrode more read-
ily than any archaeological metal present. The same is probably true of organic
materials such as wood. Fresh wood still has lots of compounds that readily
decompose. These will be affected first. However, these processes will have
occurred long ago in archaeological wood. It is not certain whether these initial
conversion processes really can serve as a model of what is happening in archaeo-
logical material. A further problem lies in the fact that it is difficult to introduce

material into the soil without disturbing the burial environment. Some inventive
solutions have however been suggested (see Matthiesen et al. 2007).
To avoid the problems associated with fresh material, it might be wise to use old,
archaeological, material. This would probably not raise many problems in the
case of organic materials such as wood. In the case of metals, however, the chal-
lenge will be to find objects with the appropriate corrosion layers or patina for the
soil in question. The advantages of this approach are (1) that the processes are
studied directly, rather than being inferred from other parameters and (2) that
damage to the archaeological site can be minimised by careful selection of the test
location. Drawbacks include the fact (1) that the burial environment is disturbed
when the material is introduced, meaning in some cases that it is no longer pos-
sible to achieve a realistic simulation (see, for example, Swifterbant S2 where,
some 30 years after excavation, the burial environment was still altered; Huisman
et a. 2008b), (2) that embedding the material in the soil matrix can be problem-
atic and (3) that archaeological material may be more heterogeneous in their
composition, and therefore in the velocity their degradation processes
11.4.9 Using micromorphology
Approach and sampling

Micromorphology can be used to study processes that are or have been active in
the soil. This involves studying undisturbed soil samples with the aid of a micro-
scope (see for example Courty et al. 1989; Simpson 1996), which allows us to
investigate the structure of the soil, the minerals it contains, the type of organic
material and its properties etc. Such information can be used to establish what
processes might be active in the soil, and which were active in the past. Some of
this information is highly relevant to archaeological heritage management, either
directly or indirectly, particularly for initial assessment and monitoring. A further
advantage lies in the fact that the samples can be stored for monitoring purposes,
provided they are well-documented, and compared with ‘fresh’ samples from the
same location years later, allowing any changes to be detected.
Since the soil structure plays a crucial role, samples for micromorphological anal-
ysis are taken in such a way that the structure is affected as little as possible. Sam-
pling is generally performed using boxes of thin metal or cardboard which are
pressed or cut into a profile (see figure 98); these are known as Kubiena tins. The
box is retrieved and then impregnated with synthetic resin in the lab. A thin sec-
tion is taken from the block, and polished to a thickness of 30 microns. This is
then studied under a polarising microscope. The use of polarised light allows
minerals and other semi-crystalline compounds such as cellulose and collagen to
be determined, and several other properties of the soil to be studied. This is pos-
sible thanks to the fact that crystalline and semi-crystalline materials all refract
201
98 Example of a profile
being sampled for
micromorphological
analysis. The boxes are
impregnated with
synthetic resin, contents
and all, after removal.
The impregnated blocks
are then used to
produce thin-sections.
Metal tins are often used
instead of cardboard
boxes.
light in different ways (they are birefringent). Placing the thin-section between
two polarisers allows us to study these light-refracting properties. This technique
was originally developed for the study of soil formation processes, but is now also
used in archaeology (see Goldberg & Macphail 2006 for an introduction). Certain
aspects of micromorphology are particularly relevant to archaeology. The main
ones are listed below, avoiding the terminology used for describing thin-sections,
in the interests of accessibility. See Stoops (2003) for guidance on thin-section
description and terminology.
Soil structure
The soil structure seen in the thin-sections indicates first of all whether the soil
consists of natural sediment, or whether it has been subjected to disturbance in
the past. Sedimented material generally has a clear stratigraphy (figure 99a),
whereas digging or other types of disturbance – such as earthworking or tram-
pling – produce a mixed soil mass containing structural elements of different
sizes, and often rounded (figure 99B). Bioturbation by mesofauna is often easily
recognisable in thin-section. Tunnels are the most obvious sign of mesofauna
activity (figure 99C). If the bioturbation has been very intensive, the soil may have

A B
99A-E Micromorphological phenomena

that can have implications for preservation
in situ. A: Undisturbed sedimentary
stratigraphy. B: Structure disturbed by
digging or trampling. C: Tunnel. D: Biogenic C
lime. E: As previous (crossed polarized
light).
D E
203
A B C
D E F
G H I
100A-I Micromorphological observations of organic material. PPL = plane-polarized light;
XPL = cross-polarized light. A-F from peat overlying a Neolithic peat trackway (Nieuw Dor-
drecht; see Theunissen et al. 2006, Huisman & Theunissen 2008). G from a buried soil
underneath a Roman tumulus (Overasselt; publication forthcoming), H and I from Medieval
house floors and peat (Peizermaden; publication forthcoming). A: Well-preserved organic
material with recognisable cell structure and strong birefringence PPL. B: As previous, XPL.
C: Well-preserved organic material (sphagnum leaves) with very high pore volume. These
pores would have collapsed irreversibly if the soil had dried out, so their presence is a sign
that this has not happened since the peat was formed. (Theunissen et al. 2006, Huisman &
Theunissen 2008). D: As previous, XPL. E: Organic material in which the cellulose has been
damaged, losing its birefringence PPL. F: As previous, XPL. G: Organic material that has
been completely converted to faecal pellets by soil fauna. PPL. H: Wood fragment with clear
signs of microfaunal decay (including faecal pellets) PPL. I: Eutrophic peat consisting of
large, well-preserved tissue fragments in a mass of highly degraded organic remains (PPL).
The presence of these large well-preserved fragments indicates that no significant damage
is currently occurring in the organic material. The damage to the organic mass occurred
when the peat was formed.

a crumbly structure which obscures any tunnels. The soil is then also likely to
have lost its sedimentary structure. Sometimes, the faeces of soil fauna can still be
recognised. In lime-rich soils, worms excrete casts of biogenic lime that can also
be identified in thin-section (figure 99D, E).
Quality of and damage to organic material

Organic material is often found in soil thin-sections, in all forms and stages of
degradation. Since the degradation of organic material in the soil can probably be
fairly directly related to the degradation of archaeological and archaeobotanical
material, this information is very important. Various types of data can be obtained
on organic material (see also figure 100):
– Various types of organic material can still be recognised if the fragments are
large enough. This applies, for example, to wood, pine needles, pollen, roots
and fungal filaments (see for example Ismail-Meijer & Rentzel 2004).
– Organic material with little microbial damage still contains semi-crystalline
cellulose. This disappears when bacteria or fungi attack the material. The pres-
ence of semi-crystalline cellulose can easily be identified in polarised light, as
cellulose is birefringent.
– Damage by mesofauna can be recognised by the fact that signs of eating can be
seen on pieces of organic material. Their faecal pellets can also be seen.
– In many cases, however, we see only a shapeless mass of organic material in
which no structure can be discerned (‘plasma’). This is the case, for example,
with certain types of peat, and also organic material in the B horizons of pod-
zolic soils (see Van Breemen & Buurman 2002).
It is good to bear in mind that poor-quality organic material, or a large degree of

degradation, does not necessarily mean that the archaeological site itself is strongly
degraded or at risk. In peaty soils, it is common to see both well- and poorly-
preserved material alternating, a situation which arises as the peat grows. Nor is it
unusual to encounter a soil mass of organic plasma containing large fragments of
very well-preserved organic material. The good condition of these large fragments
indicates that little or no active degradation is occurring at the moment. The
strong degradation of organic material in some layers of peat therefore tells us
only about the situation in the past, and does not reflect current processes (Huis-
man and Theunissen 2008). Organic material in the ploughsoil and in the B hori-
zon of well-drained soils will probably still be subject to active degradation. This
is a normal part of soil formation. It is also highly unlikely that such soils still
contain well-preserved organic material.
A number of things can help us ascertain whether active degradation of organic
material is currently occurring. In peat soils, cracks resulting from desiccation are
205
a sure sign that the soil has dried out at some point, either permanently or tem-
porarily, allowing oxygen in. An absence of birefringence in organic remains is a
sign of past or present microbial damage. Only repeat sampling and analysis will
allow any changes over time to be identified. Fresh traces of mesofauna – tunnels,
eating marks and faecal pellets – can be an indication of active degradation, but
only if it is clear that the signs are not fossil. This can be verified by repeat sam-
pling and analysis, or by taking other measurements in the burial environment
(e.g. moisture content).
Burial environment and diagenetic minerals

Certain diagenetic minerals (which are formed after a soil or site is buried) can
form only in specific circumstances. The presence of such minerals therefore tells
us about the past or present burial environment, helping us understand how the
site formed, and suggesting to some extent how it might develop in the future.
Many of these minerals form under the influence of bacteria, which need organic
material. Such minerals are therefore most commonly found in soils containing
organic material. The most important of these minerals are (see also figure 101):
Iron(III)oxides: Iron(III)oxides – including goethite, maghemite and lepidocroc-

ite, composition Fe2O3 and/or FeOOH – form and remain stable in an oxic envi-
ronment. The highest concentrations are often found at the boundary between
oxic and anoxic, since dissolved Fe2+ can be transported from an oxygen-poor
environment by water. It then reacts with oxygen, depositing Fe(III) oxides.
Vivianite and siderite: Vivianite (Fe3(PO4)2) and siderite (FeCO3) can form and
remain stable only in the absence of oxygen and sulphate, conditions often found
in brook valleys and in freshwater seepage areas. If these minerals come into con-
tact with oxygen, they are slowly converted to Fe(III) oxides; if they come into
contact with sulphate or sulphide (in the presence of oxygen), iron sulphides can
form (see below).
Pyrite: Pyrite (FeS2) and related minerals, including marcasite (FeS2) and mack-
inawite (FeS) can form only in an anoxic environment containing sulphate. If the
environment subsequently becomes low-sulphate, the minerals will remain sta-
ble. If oxygen enters the burial environment, pyrite will convert to iron(III) oxides
and sulphuric acid. If the soil also contains lime, it will react with the sulphuric
acid, forming gypsum (CaSO4). If no lime is present, the soil will become strongly
acidic, and jarosite (KFe(III)3(OH)6(SO4)2) will often form. Jarosite, which is
bright yellow, is often easy to distinguish in a soil profile or borehole core (van
Breemen & Buurman 2002).

C
A
101A-F Diagenetic minerals that can provide informa-

tion on the soil environment (now and in the past).
PPL = plane-polarized light; XPL = cross-polarized
light. (C and E from Mesolithic site at Schokland
(Huisman et al. 2008d); the rest from middle-neolithic
sites at Swifterbant (S2; Huisman et al. 2008b; Huis- D
man et al. submitted). A: Iron oxides coating root
channels. This indicates that oxygen was able to pen-
etrate through the channels, and that the surrounding
soil had reducing properties. Swifterbant S4. B: Vivi-
anite. The typical blue colour rapidly forms in the
presence of oxygen; the normal colour is white. Vivi-
anite can have star-shaped crystals, but also occurs in
amorphous form. Swifterbant S2 PPL. C: Pyrite.
Though this mineral is opaque, it can be clearly iden-
tified in reflected light (not shown). In sediment it is
often framboidal, though it also occurs as a solid
E
amorphous mass. PPL. D,E: Gypsum. The optical
properties are difficult to distinguish from quartz, so
characterisation depends on morphology. In D (PPL),
gypsum has formed large, euhedral crystals. Note the
damage that this has caused to a fragment of organic
material. In E (PPL), gypsum occurs as star-shaped
and lozenge-shaped crystals surrounding pyrite.
F: Oxidised pyrite, in which the framboids have been
filled with iron oxides (pseudomorphs). A pyrite core
can still be discerned in some. PPL. F
207
These minerals can sometimes be identified macroscopically, particularly orange

iron oxides, vivianite which becomes bright blue on contact with air and bright
yellow jarosite. Siderite, which rapidly turns from light-grey to brown on contact
with oxygen (and also reacts with hot 1 M HCl), and the rotten-egg smell of sul-
phate-reducing pyrite-containing soils are also easily recognisable. Accurately
identifying minerals such as these allows us to infer the properties of burial envi-
ronments now and in the past, particularly the redox potential and – since sul-
phate most commonly occurs in saltwater – freshwater/saltwater fluctuations.
The impact of pyrite oxidation, which poses a major threat to some archaeologi-
cal sites, can also be identified.
Sequences of events and indicators of past conditions

A soil can contain indicators of past burial environments. When burial conditions
change, it is not inevitable that all minerals will be converted and structures
changed. Sometimes, this will occur rapidly, at other times it will be a more grad-
ual process, and sometimes no such changes will take place. Careful examination
of indicators of past burial environments and the relationship between them, and
between these indicators and the soil structure and stratigraphy, can enable us to
deduce what conditions dominated in the soil in the past, and in what sequence.
The presence of vivianite in a filled tunnel (figure 102A) is for example an indica-
tion that the biological activity was not recent, and that the soil was reduced after-
wards. Vivianite can form and remain stable only in anoxic conditions. Given the
fact that the tunnel must have contained oxygen when it was created, the mineral
must have formed later. The minerals in figure 102B, too, provide evidence of a
complex sequence of burial environments. The blue vivianite core must have
formed in an anoxic freshwater environment. The black edge of the concretion
consists of pyrite, which probably formed in an anoxic saltwater environment.
A B
102A, B Sequence of micromorphological phenomena that indicate developments in the
burial environment. Plane-polarized light. Swifterbant S2 (Huisman 2008b). A: Tunnel
containing vivianite (arrow). B: Association of vivianite, pyrite and iron oxides indicating
complex variation in burial conditions.

103 Multibeam sonar

image of the seabed
around the BZN 10
wreck in the Wadden
Sea. The sonar images
from three subsequent
years (2002, 2004 and
2005) clearly show the
change in the elevation
of the seabed due to
erosion. Picture courtesy
of RWS/MACHU project.
The red and yellow iron oxides, finally, would have formed in an oxic environ-
ment, as the pyrite and vivianite partially oxidised.
11.4.10 Underwater environments

The descriptions above are typical of terrestrial environments. Underwater envi-
ronments have specific characteristics that require different techniques and some-
times different approaches. The two most severe threats to underwater archaeo-
logical sites – besides human interference – are erosion and wood degradation by
woodborers. Erosion can be a serious problem at terrestrial sites (not dealt with
in this volume). At underwater sites, this problem can be much graver, for two
reasons. Firstly, underwater sites may lie in high-energy environments – such as
actively eroding river channels and tidal areas – where erosion is extreme. Sec-
ondly, because underwater sites are not visible except to divers, most site destruc-
tion happens unseen. However, the monitoring of erosion underwater is helped
greatly by the availability of sonar. In high-energy environments, side scan sonar
and multibeam sonar can be used effectively to monitor erosion and deposition
at and around archaeological sites. In this way it is possible to get a detailed pic-
209
Combined approach
ture of the progress of erosion and the impact of mitigation strategies (figure 103;
Van den Brenk 2003, Dix & Lambkin 2008, Demerre & Pieters 2008, Brouwers &
Oosting 2008, Manders 2004, Manders 2008). The MACHU (Managing Cultural
Heritage Underwater) project includes experiments to predict sedimentation and
erosion at maritime archaeological sites using computer models (Dix & Lambkin
2008).
At many sites, degradation by woodborers is facilitated by erosion. If the environ-

ment is favourable for woodboring animals, any exposed wood will be infected
immediately and destroyed within years or decades. Under such conditions, mon-
itoring will be based for the most part on erosion processes. If the conditions are
still unfavourable – because of low salinity, temperature or oxygen levels – wood
can survive above the water table. Here, regional and on-site monitoring of
parameters that determine the favourability of the environment for woodborers
may be the best approach, especially if conditions are liable to change or actually
changing due to climate change. This would at least require measurements of (1)
temperature (2) electrical conductivity (EC) or salinity and (3) dissolved oxygen
contents in the water, or redox (Manders et al. 2008).
11.5 Combined approach
If we look at the four approaches set out above (analyzing archaeological mate-
rial, monitoring the burial environment, determining which processes are active),
we see that they all have their pros and cons. The best thing would therefore be to
combine them. Combinations of this type have produced good outcomes to date
(e.g. Brunning et al. 2000, Smit et al. 2005b, Huisman & Theunissen 2008, Huis-
man et al. 2008b). If this is not possible for financial reasons, it is at any rate advis-
able to make the initial assessment or baseline survey as wide-ranging as possible,
in order to obtain as complete a picture as possible. A choice of methods and
techniques can then be made for any follow-up, based on a cost-benefit analysis.
11.6 Final comments
In this and the preceding chapters we have attempted to present knowledge and
techniques that can be applied in archaeological heritage management. This pub-
lication is certainly not intended as a set of guidelines or instructions. Archaeo-
logical sites and the burial conditions at those sites are too variable and often too
complex for any standard ‘recipe’. In practice, the questions of whether preserva-
tion in situ is possible, whether and which interventions are needed and how a site

should be monitored will have to be considered on a case-by-case basis. And new

techniques will become available in the future. This chapter has so far overlooked
a number of complicating factors that often play a role in monitoring.
The first is the problem that archaeological sites – and burial conditions – are
often highly variable. As a result, preservation conditions can vary strongly from
one location to another within the same site, and at different depths; see for
example figure 104. It is important to attempt to obtain a comprehensive picture
of this variability (see De Gruijter et al. 2006, Vorenhout 2008). However, this is
difficult to achieve without large-scale disruption of the site. In each case, there-
fore, the need to properly characterise the variations in preservation and the bur-
ial environment will have to be balanced against the desire to cause as little dam-
age as possible to the subsurface archaeological record.
Secondly, some parameters can vary strongly over time, particularly the water
table and associated parameters such as redox potential, oxygen content and soil
104 Variations in the acidity of the topsoil at a Roman site (Roman camp at Fort Vechten,
the Netherlands). The position of phase 3 of the castellum is projected onto a digital eleva-
tion model (the 19th century Vechten fortress lies directly to the east; the highway A12
directly to the north of the castellum). Circles indicate sample positions and the pH values
of the topsoil. The pH shows remarkable variation (from acidic to basic over a relatively
small area).
211
Final comments
moisture. Other parameters, such as lime content, are much more stable. Any
monitoring programme must take this into account.
Thirdly, we face the problem that the outcomes of most initial characterisations
and monitoring programmes will entail a substantial degree of uncertainty. These
result from variations in the preservation of the archaeological material; uncer-
tainty as to the spatial distribution of soil parameters; uncertainty as to temporal
variation in important parameters; lack of clarity about the impact of changes in
the burial environment on the archaeological material etc. Furthermore, we cur-
rently know little about the rate of degradation in terms of information loss; in
other words, which phase of degradation causes the loss of which archaeological
information in bone, wood or metal, for example. This is particularly true if we
consider it from the point of view of archaeological information value. The out-
comes of research for the purposes of in situ protection of archaeological sites can
therefore be open to different interpretations, depending on one’s particular
interests or preferences. They can be used to downplay the need for intervention
and monitoring, or the likely effects of intervention, on the grounds that it is not
certain that any damage will occur. Or they can be used as arguments for excava-
tion, since there is no guarantee that all the archaeological remains will continue
to be preserved in situ. Perhaps the greatest challenge to researchers is to allow the
facts and figures to speak for themselves in the most objective, reasonable and
practical way possible.

Acknowledgements
This book is the result of the work of many different people over several years. I
am grateful to all who have contributed, and should like to thank some of them
specifically.
I wish to thank my employers – the ROB; now the Cultural Heritage Agency – for
allowing me the time and providing the funds to make this publication possible.
I also want to acknowledge the support of Jos Bazelmans, Jan van ‘t Hof, Monique
Krauwer and Heleen Homma.
The basis for this book was a series of papers (in Dutch) in the Praktijkboek
Instandhouding Monumenten (PIM), later christened Praktijkreeks Cultureel Erf-
goed (PCE). I want to thank Jan van Zelst, the co-editor and my contact on this
journal, for years of highly effective collaboration in publishing the contributions.
I should also like to thank Ron Huveneers and Ingrid de Zwart-Schaap (Sdu) for
their friendly support and efficient handling of the publication of the present
book and (Ingrid) the PIM and PCE publications.
I want to thank all the authors for their contributions and for the pleasant col-
laboration. This book would not have been possible without their efforts. I am
very grateful for the many top-quality photographs provided by Ton Penders
(Cultural Heritage Agency), images that say more than pages of text. I also want
to thank everyone else who provided illustrations and permissions to use them:
N. Arts, M. Bartels, E. Chapman, Deep Sea Productions, L. van Dijk, P. Dijkstra,
D. Edmonds, H. van Enckevort, D. Fontijn, H. Hiddink, R. Jansen, K. Kays,
J. Kempkens, S. Knippenberg, H. de Kievith, L. Koehler, F. Kortlang, T. Lupak,
H. Matthiesen, L. Mumford, D. Neff, A, Numan, E. Nijhof, H. Peeters, J. Pleasance,
H. Rescheiter, M. Redknap, M. ter Schegget, H. Scholte Lubberdink, J. Schreurs,
L. Tebbens, L. Theunissen, F. Theuws, B. van Tilburg, A. Verlinde, E. Vreenegoor
and W. van Zijverden
Several people have commented on or reviewed draft versions of one or more

chapters: Bert Groenewoudt and Axel Müller (both Cultural Heritage Agency)
gave valuable comments on the ‘soil feature’ chapter, and Jos Deeben (Cultural
Heritage Agency) and Henning Matthiesen (National Museum Denmark) on the
‘monitoring’ chapter. Very special thanks go to Sue McDonnell for efficiently
translating the texts from Dutch to English, and to Jim Williams (National Herit-
age Science Strategy Coordinator), who reviewed all the chapters in this volume.
213
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List of Authors
Saddha Cuijpers has a degree in prehistoric archaeology, and works as a physical

anthropologist at the IGBA – Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam, specialising in histo-
logical species and determination of fragmented and/or cremated bone.
Jos Deeben has a degree in cultural prehistory. He heads the Archaeological Herit-
age Department at the Cultural Heritage Agency.
Hans (D.J.) Huisman has a PhD in soil science. He works as a senior researcher in
the degradation and conservation of archaeological materials at the Cultural Her-
itage Agency.
Miranda Jans has a background in medical biology, and did her PhD on histo-
logical bone analysis for degradation research. She now works at the Vrije Univer-
siteit Amsterdam where she conducts research into bone degradation and DNA
preservation
Ineke Joosten has a PhD in geochemistry. She works as a researcher in the conser-
vation of inorganic materials at the Netherlands Institute for Cultural Heritage
(ICN).
René Klaassen has a PhD in wood anatomy. He leads the anatomical research on
wood degradation and wood identification at SHR wood research.
Jaap Kottman is a glass specialist who work – before his retirement – at ROB (now
Cultural Heritage Agency). He is still active as a consultant on archaeological
glass.
Frits Laarman has a background in archaeology and works as an archaeolozoolo-

gist at the Cultural Heritage Agency.
Roel Lauwerier has a PhD in archaeozoology and is senior researcher in archaeo-

zoology and programme manager at the Cultural Heritage Agency.
Martijn Manders has a degree in archaeology. He works as a maritime and under-

water archaeologist at the Cultural Heritage Agency, specializing in underwater
heritage management.
235
List of Authors
Luc Megens is a chemist and archaeologist. He works on conservation research on

inorganic materials and painted objects at the Netherlands Institute for Cultural
Heritage (ICN), specialising in microscopy and inorganic analysis.
Ronny Meijers works as a conservator of archaeological objects at Het Valkhof

Museum in Nijmegen.
Joke Nientker is a materials scientist working at the Lelystad location of the Cul-
tural Heritage Agency, specialising in maritime materials
Bertil van Os has a PhD in geochemistry. He works as a senior researcher on inor-

ganic materials at the Cultural Heritage Agency.
Alexander Smit is an environmental engineer specialising in the monitoring and

in situ preservation of archaeological sites. He is owner/manager of Paleo Terra.
Michel Vorenhout is an environmental biologist. He currently works at the Vrije

Universiteit Amsterdam, where his main focus is the monitoring of archaeologi-
cal sites.

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Degradation of Archaeological Remains

D.J. Huisman (ed.)

Sdu Uitgevers b.v.

Vormgeving en zetwerk: www.az-gsb.nl, Den Haag

All figures Cultural Heritage Agency, except when indicated otherwise.

© Sdu Uitgevers bv Den Haag, 2009

To protect archaeological sites in situ, knowledge must be available about threats

in groundwater tables, acidification etc. Also, at national level up till recently no

dr. Ronald H.A. Plasterk

6 Degradation of archaeological remains

2.1 Material characteristics 17

3.1 Material characteristics 33

3.4 Transformation and degradation processes 41

4.1 Material characteristics 55

5.1 Material characteristics 71

8 Degradation of archaeological remains

6.1 Material characteristics 91

6.7.4 No cleaning in the field 108

7 Copper and copper alloys 111

7.1 Material characteristics 111

8 Other metals (lead, tin, silver, gold) 125

8.1 Material characteristics 125

10 Degradation of archaeological remains

8.4.2 Degradation in the soil 131

9.1 Material characteristics 137

10 Soil features 147

10.1 The concept of soil features 147

10.6 Implications for in situ protection and monitoring of

11 Preservation and monitoring of archaeological sites 177

11.1 From degradation to in situ protection 177

12 Degradation of archaeological remains

1.1 Preserving the archaeological record

At least partly as a result of the Malta Convention, the in situ preservation of

14 Degradation of archaeological remains

latest knowledge of degradation processes, monitoring techniques and strategies

1.2 Degradation is loss of information

1.3 How to use this book

16 Degradation of archaeological remains

D.J. Huisman & R.K.W.M. Klaassen

2.1 Material characteristics

18 Degradation of archaeological remains

2.2 Presence in the archaeological record

2.3 Archaeological information content

Firstly, simply as objects wooden artefacts contain archaeological information.

2.4 Transformation and degradation processes

1. dry soils with poor water retention

20 Degradation of archaeological remains

2.4.2 Fungal degradation

2.4.3 Bacterial degradation

22 Degradation of archaeological remains

Degradation by erosion bacteria tends to predominantly affect the inner layer of

2.4.4 Recognising microbial degradation

4A-H Microscopical characteristics of various types of microbial wood degradation. A: Pine

24 Degradation of archaeological remains

The degree of degradation is also determined on the basis of microscopic images,

Mould (particularly white mould) is often observed in or on the wood during

26 Degradation of archaeological remains

2.4.5 Degradation at underwater sites

2.5 Loss of information

6A-E Impact of woodborers on maritime archaeological

28 Degradation of archaeological remains

2.6 Implications for in situ protection and monitoring of

2.7 Handling wood during excavation