Vampire Forensics presents the lore and myth of vampires with an eye for science, particularly anthropology, psychology, physiology and, more to my liking, archaeology.

I have always enjoyed stories and movies about vampires. At age four, I was hooked on Dark Shadows, a bad soap opera that featured gothic ghouls like vampires, werewolves, and ghosts. But it was Barnabas Collins who made blood sucking cool. I think I was a vampire for Halloween more than once and always considered the vampire to be the king of Hollywood monsters. The Mummy, the Wolfman, all the ghosts, witches, and zombies -they all bowed to the vampire. Even the word itself looks sinister: vampire.

Now, in my studies of anthropology and archaeology, I was simply beside myself to discover Vampire Forensics. Mark Collins Jenkins presents a side of vampirism that I hadn’t previously considered and I suspect I’m not alone. Mixing pop culture, ancient mythology, and the evidence of physical remains and modern forensics, the author paints a picture that is both engaging and interesting; both entertaining and informing. Jenkins begins by highlighting vampires in pop culture, such as the novels of Anne Rice and Whitley Streiber as well as Richard Matheson’s I Am Legend. He then moves quickly into pathological explanations for vampirism that might explain the origins of superstitions and myths that erupted as “vampire epidemics” that coincided with 18th century outbreaks of disease or petulance, such as rabies and the plague.

What follows is a style of writing that compels the reader to turn page after page as he moves fluidly from historical records of sociopathic criminals and their gruesome behaviors, forensic and physiological evidence, and and the myth and lore associated with vampires in early historical accounts.

Consider this paragraph (pp. 32-33):

This litany of latter-day vampirism seems inexhaustible indeed. But it may have reached its grisly apogee in 1980, when 23-year-old James Riva, using gold-plated bullets, shot and killed his 74-year-old disabled grandmother. Riva then drank her blood as it spurted from the wounds. He had attacked her, Riva later claimed, because the voice of a vampire had instructed him to do so. Riva further declared that he himself was a 700-year-old vampire who required his grandmother’s blood to survive, only to discover that she was too old and dried up to serve that purpose. In 2009, he came up for parole. It was denied.

Compare with this one (pp. 127-128):

The tuberculosis bacillum, with justifiable exaggeration, might be said to consume the life force of its victim, overwhelming the victim’s will to live. Yet the pathogen has also evolved to spread via contagion, feeding off a new host before its old one dies, and so on down the line. Take away the understanding of microscopic pathogens, however, and what is left? A mysterious life force consuming one person after another, and believed powerful enough to act from afar — even from the grave.

And contrast with this one (p. 124):

Back on the knoll near Griswold, when the archaeologists had opened the coffin labeled “JB-55,” Bellantoni was momentarily taken aback. The skeleton looked like no other he had seen: These bones had been rearranged in a classic skull-and-crossbones pattern. This grave had been desecrated, apparently many decades earlier.

And you get an inkling of what you might expect from Vampire Forensics. One of the central stories in the book is that of ID6, a skeleton excavated from a from a 16th century mass grave that resulted from the plague outbreak in Venice, Italy that began in 1510. Half the population of the city was infected with the plague by 1576, most of them dying from it. Graves were opened and reopened in order to dispose of the bodies. 400 years after the fact, archaeologist Matteo Borrini excavated the remains, and happened upon the partial skeleton of an elderly woman who had a brick shoved, post-mortem, in her mouth. The mystery led Dr. Borrini to the legend of the “chewing dead,” which was held by superstition to mean that a corpse would exhibit vamipire-like behavior of eating neighboring corpses.

That ID6 was thought to be a “chewing corpse” or Nachzehrer (“after-devourer”), was likely fueled by the superstitions held by people of the day, understandably frightened by the horror of the plague. Perhaps the blood on a death shroud near the mouth, flowing during the decay process and the bloating from gases, giving the appearance of having just gorged on a meal of fellow corpses was enough to cause some poor grave digger to take no chances and, thus, ram a brick in its mouth before reburying in hopes that the vampire might starve to death.

As an archaeologist and anthropologist who’s primary interest is in the ancient beliefs and superstitions of people in prehistory and early history, I found Vampire Forensics to be informative and inspiring. For me, the approach was fresh and I learned a few things. As a fan of vampire lore in both mythology and pop culture, I found the author’s work to be as entertaining as any modern thriller and it was difficult to put the book down and do other things… like sleep or work.

If your interested in Vampire Forensics, follow this link to the book at Amazon or check the link in my sidebar, just click on the book cover.

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A recent story making it’s rounds among those who fancy an interest in archaeology, history and “biblical” versions of both carries the headline “Archaeologists find crucifixion-style nail from the time of Jesus.”

My first thought was this would be cool. There are so few nails found that can be attributed to actual crucifixions, so this could provide some additional insight into the manufacture, style, etc. I was eager to read of a context that places the nail in the ground, perhaps with a talus or piece of wood still attached like that of the poor fellow’s heal found back in the 1970s^[1]. His nail was bent, making it difficult to remove from the wood and foot. Its thought that the economic demands on Romans resulted in the removal of nails after the death of crucifixion victims for re-use.

But, as it happens, this nail wasn’t found in an original context. It was “discovered in an ornate box at a fort,” possibly from the period of the Crusades. The first crusades didn’t begin until almost 1200 years after the alleged time of Jesus. Still, the nail could be from his time. But there’s no mention of how the nail was dated. Only that it dated from the time of Jesus.

One way, might be to test the patina on the surface of the nail. If the nail still retained original organic material or blood residue, this could possibly be dated. Similar dating has been done to rock art, but I’m not sure how the oxidation involved with iron might affect such an effort.

The Mirror says the nail is smooth, indicating that it had been handled by many people over a long period of time.

Darn. The patina idea wouldn’t work anyway. It was worn smooth.

The newspaper quotes Christopher Macklin of the Knights Templar of Britannia as calling last summer’s find “momentous.”

But there’s no mention of why it might be “momentous.” I’m still scratching my head and wondering why something “momentous” wouldn’t be mentioned by the “archaeologists” involved or why The Mirror wouldn’t be specific on this. It might be from the alleged time of Jesus. It might not.

He said evidence the nail had been handled a lot “indicates it was of great interest to many people” and that he believes the original Knights Templar thought it was a genuine artifact from Jesus’ crucifixion.

Rational clarification: evidence that the nail had been handled a lot indicates it was perceived to be of great interest.

We know that the Crusades were an attempt to “retake” Jerusalem and the “Holy Land.” We know that thousands upon thousands were killed in the name of superstition in an attempt to do so. We also have evidence that humans are willing to propagandize their political and religious positions, and what better way to do it than with a “holy relic” that rallies and inspires people? Why shouldn’t we believe that it is at least just as likely that the nail is every bit as fake as the shroud of Turin?

Moreover, of what significance is a single nail with no provenance or context outside of a fort that belonged to a 13th century military arm of a religion bent on controlling the minds of humanity?

I’d be more interested in the box it came in.

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1. Haas N. (1970) Anthropological observations on the skeletal remains from Giv’at ha-Mivtar. Israel Exploration Journal, 20:38-59

Robert and Linda Braidwood

One cannot study prehistoric archaeology without encountering the name Robert J. Braidwood. An innovator of archaeological method and inquiry, Braidwood pioneered new ways of investigating the prehistoric past. He found an interest in that unique period of human history that marks a transition from hunting and gathering into food production through agriculture (Redman 1978; Harms 2003; Zeder, et al 2006).

Braidwood began his career in archaeology in the 1930s when he signed on for field work near Baghdad and soon began working with James Henry Breasted, founder of the Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago where Braidwood would finally become Professor Emeritus (Harms 2003). Soon after World War II, Braidwood began to set new standards in archaeological methods for discovering the past in and around the “hilly flanks of the fertile crescent,” region of Mesopotamia and the Levant east of the Zagros mountains where there are slopping hills and fertile plains (Braidwood and Howe 1960; Braidwood et al 1983). It was here that Braidwood and his colleagues established a multidisciplinary approach to investigating the past, employing the use of scientists and researchers from cross-disciplines to examine floral and faunal remains as well as geology and culture history (Braidwood and Howe 1960; Braidwood et al 1983; Watson 2003).

One of the best known sites associated with Braidwood is Jarmo, a neolithic village in the foothills of the Zagros Mountains in Norther Iraq. Braidwood’s research questions centered around food production and, through his multidisciplinary approach, he was able to reveal a culture that domesticated sheep, goats, and dogs, grew both emmer and einkorn wheat as well as barley and lentils, and innovated the use of microliths to create sickle blades for harvesting wheat (Braidwood and Howe 1960; Braidwood et al 1983). Patty Jo Watson, friend and colleague of Braidwood, remarked of his approach to archaeology, “Braidwood’s interdisciplinary archaeological research at and about Jarmo became a double-barreled theoretical-methodological paradigm that still underlies the practice of prehistoric archaeology in and well beyond the Hilly Flanks (Watson 2003: 238).”

Theories of agriculture have found various favor since V. Gordon Childe first introduced, in 1928, his Oasis Theory of the rise of agriculture. Childe suggested that the dessication as a result of retreating glaciers forced people who were previously residing in rich and fertile regions into oases or refugia of habitation where people, plants and animals were forced to become familiar with each other, naturally giving rise to domestication of plants and animals by people. Braidwood appears to have drawn much of his inspiration from Childe’s work and very nearly enrolled in the University of Edinburgh’s doctoral program “under Childe’s supervision” (Watson 2003: 236). Even though he didn’t study directly under Childe, Braidwood assigned Childe’s books and articles for his students, regarded him highly, and acknowledged Childe’s work through his own. Braidwood referred to Childe as “one of archaeology’s few very great synthesizers” (Braidwood 1958: 733) and noted that he had a “natural gift for seeing the woods as well as the trees” and as having an “incredible grasp of detail” (734).

But Braidwood wasn’t beyond critiquing Childe’s theory, noting that a not so insignificant problem is that humans had experienced previous interglacial periods that created refugia and oases of habitation during dry spells and yet these did not result in the advent or discovery of agriculture as a means of food production. Braidwood’s interdisciplinary team found that paleoclimate conditions among the Hilly Flanks was not dry at all but conducive to agriculture with annual rainfall in the late Pleistocene that produced an “open deciduous forest, with oaks predominating but with occasional evergreens” (Braidwood and Howe 1960: 169). While Childe focused primarily on climate and environment as factors in sparking the agricultural revolution, Braidwood included human cultural elements, suggesting that the “presence of innovative cultural mechanisms for the introduction of agriculture” (Redman 1978: 96) was vital for an agricultural revolution. This meant for Braidwood that the invention of tools like grinding stones, better stone tools like microliths, and living structures that are all “related [to] developments of a fixed sedentary life and its permanents architectural forms for both living and storage space” (Braidwood et al 1983: 129).

But Braidwood wasn’t immune from critique, even though he clearly built upon Childe’s work in a positive and progressive manner. Lewis Binford took an alternative view to the advent of agriculture as a part of human culture (Binford 1968) and, while he congratulated Braidwood for recognizing the weaknesses in Childe’s theory, he went on to point out that Braidwood’s “nuclear zone,” while more likely and acceptable since it considers human culture and technology as part of the equation, doesn’t go far enough as an explanation. Binford accuses Braidwood of resorting to a vitalist approach and, thus, “unacceptable as an explanation. Trends which are observed in cultural evolution require explanation; they are certainly not explained by postulating emergent human traits which are said to account for the trends” (322).

Binford goes on to posit his own theory, which is one that incorporates demography as a likely factor in why humans moved from hunting-gathering to food production strategies for subsistence. Binford argues that populations have equilibrium states in which the size of the population is optimal to sustain the culture and will rely on donor and recipient systems to maintain equilibrium. As populations grow and more groups occupy a region, groups begin to impinge on each other, upsetting equilibrium states, invoking selective pressures that, in the case of prehistoric populations, led to developing food production strategies to cope with forced sedentary lifeways.

That Binford was able to critique Braidwood’s work at all is still a testament to the extensive investigation and research that Braidwood and his colleagues applied to the question of food production and prehistoric life just prior to and during the emergence of agriculture. The methods and achievements of Robert J. Braidwood still remain noteworthy and their legacy is one that is worth sharing with each new generation of archaeologists.

But Robert J. Braidwood was hardly a single person. Married in 1937, his wife Linda was a “constant companion” (Harms 2003) and perhaps his closest colleague. Their 66 year partnership and collaboration produced many “important firsts” in the field of archaeology, such as “the oldest sample of human blood, the earliest example of hand-worked natural copper and the oldest known piece of cloth” (Harms 2003) and Gil Stein, director of the Oriental Institute, remarked that “[t]hrough the years, it is impossible to disentangle Bob Braidwood’s contributions from those of his wife, Linda. The two of them were true intellectual partners in addition to their deep personal commitment to each other” (Harms 2003).

Robert J. Braidwood and his wife Linda both passed away on the same day, just hours apart, on January 15, 2003.

Notable Publications

Braidwood, Robert J.

1958 Vere Gordon Childe, 1892-1957. American Anthropologist, New Series 60(4):733-736.

Braidwood, Robert J., and Bruce Howe

1960 Prehistoric Investigations in Iraqi Kurdistan. Studies in Ancient Oriental Civilization, no. 31. Chicago, Illinois: The University of Chicago Press.

Braidwood, Linda, Robert J. Braidwood, Bruce Howe, Charles A. Reed, and Patty Jo Watson, Eds.

1983 Prehistoric Archaeology Along the Zagros Flanks. The University of Chicago Oriental Institute Publications, 105. Chicago, Illinois: The Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago.

Braidwood, Robert J.

1957 Prehistoric Men, 3rd Edition. Fieldiana, Popular Series, Anthropology, 37. Chicago, Illinois: Chicago Natural History Museum.

Braidwood, Robert J.

1960 The Agricultural Revolution. Scientific American 203:130-148.

References Cited

Binford, Lewis

1968 Post-Pleistocene Adaptations. In New Perspectives in Archeology. L. Binford and S. Binford, eds. Pp. 312-341. Chicago: Aldine Publishing Co.

Braidwood, Robert J.

1958 Vere Gordon Childe, 1892-1957. American Anthropologist, New Series 60(4):733-736.

Braidwood, Robert J., and Bruce Howe

1960 Prehistoric Investigations in Iraqi Kurdistan. Studies in Ancient Oriental Civilization, no. 31. Chicago, Illinois: The University of Chicago Press.

Braidwood, Linda, Robert J. Braidwood, Bruce Howe, Charles A. Reed, and Patty Jo Watson, Eds.

1983 Prehistoric Archaeology Along the Zagros Flanks. The University of Chicago Oriental Institute Publications, 105. Chicago, Illinois: The Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago.

Harms, William

2003 Robert, Linda Braidwood, Pioneers in Prehistoric Archaeology. Electronic document. The University of Chicago Chronicle 22(8). http://chronicle.uchicago.edu/030123/braidwood.shtml.

Redman, Charles

1978 “The Origins of Agriculture: A Giant Step for Humankind.” In The Rise of Civilization: from early farmers to urban society in the ancient Near East. Pps. 88-140. Redman, C. Freeman.

Watson, Patty Jo

2005 Robert John Braidwood: 29 July 1907 – 15 January 2003. Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society 149(2 June):233-241.

Zeder, Melinda A., Daniel G. Bradley, Eve Emshwiller, and Bruce D. Smith

2006 Documenting Domestication: Bringing Together Plants, Animals, Archaeology, and Gentics. In Documenting Domestication: New Genetic and Archaeological Paradigms. Melinda A. Zeder, Daniel G. Bradley, Eve Emshwiller and Bruce D. Smith, eds. P. 1. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.

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I was visiting a site from a commenter (Digging The Dirt) and noticed this video. I laughed my arse off. Then knicked it from Digging the Dirt.

[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

By the way, visit Brendon at Digging the Dirt.

Welcome to When on Google Earth here at A Hot Cup of Joe for the first time! I sneaked in from nowhere and snatched a victory after staring at WOGE 63 as Vix France, major period of occupation around the Hallstat period (5th-6th c. BCE).  I was a little surprised that the usual participants hadn’t got it yet. I figured they must have been enjoying the summer and not paying attention and so I gave it a go… It was the 3rd clue that cinched it for me: a frieze of a hoplite on a quadriga chariot that had four spokes. I knew it could be as early as the 6th century BCE. Once I realized it was the Vix Krater, it was just a matter of typing Vix, France into Google Earth!

I labored over a couple of sites to use for WOGE 64, but ultimately settled on this one:

WOGE 64 (right-click & view image will give you a much larger view)

My two fears are 1) it’ll be too easy and 2) it’ll be too difficult.

Good Luck!

The Rules of When on Google Earth are as follows:
Q: What is When on Google Earth?
A: It’s a game for archaeologists, or anybody else willing to have a go!

Q: How do you play it?
A: Simple, you try to identify the site in the picture.

Q: Who wins?
A: The first person to correctly identify the site, including its major period of occupation, wins the game!

Q: What does the winner get?
A: The winner gets bragging rights and the chance to host the next When on Google Earth on his/her own blog!

WOGE on facebook:
When on Google Earth has its own Facebook group.

In addition to cranial surgery, another artificial modification of the human skull present in the archaeological record, which is perhaps better known, is skull shaping. Like trephination, this practice of modifying the shape of the human skull is present on every inhabited continent and at various periods in human history and prehistory^[1]. It even appears in the archaeological record of Neanderthals^[2]. Like trephination, several hypotheses exist to offer explanations why this practice was done. And, like trephination, the likelihood of a given hypothesis seems to have more or less probability depending upon the culture being examined.

The human skull can be artificially modified either intentionally or unintentionally. Unintentional occurrences usually involve the use of cradle boards, a device used by parents, usually mothers, to manage infants while they perform their own day to day tasks. It can be stood up near the mother or worn on her back. The constant pressure on the occipital bone, especially if the habit of binding the infant to the board is employed, causes lateral growth of the skull and “a permanent effect on the skull.”

A recent study in the Andes examined the cultural aspects of intentional cranial modification in Peruvian society, focusing on regional differentiations between the Moquegua and Katari valleys^[3]. It was found that, while the fronto-occipital type of cranial deformation was culturally preferred in the Moquegua valley, it was the annular-oblique type that found favor among those in the neighboring Katari valley. The actual presence of cranial modification between the two regions presented no statistical difference. Both valleys were equally likely to practice cranial deformation. The researchers found, however, that when the type of deformation was controlled for, the two valleys completely favored one over the other. It was also discovered that in the capital city of Tiwanaku in the highlands, both types were present. Previous researchers considered the difference in forms at Tiwanaku as representative of differences in class with the annular form belonging to a priestly class. The newer research brings this into question and demonstrates the importance of bioarchaeological approaches to examining social complexity and culture in the ancient world.

Beatrice Blackwood and P. M. Danby (1955) investigated the intentional cranial deformations performed by the people on the island of New Britain in Papua New Guinea. There, the Arawe people practiced head-binding of infants to produce a very characteristic elongation of the cranial vault which varies depending upon the method by which the binding materials are applied to the infant skull^[4].

For the Arawe, the practice was “purely an aesthetic one” and had no magico-religious or class motivations associated with it. There were no rituals or or ceremonies involved and appeared to be done simply because it was found aesthetically pleasing

Another inspiration for in vivo cranial modification might be ancestor worship. Perhaps one of the best known instances of ancestor worship that involves skull modification comes from Jericho in the Near East. Fletcher et al^[5] describe in detail the plastered skulls of Jericho and make a novel correlation between antemortem and postmortem deformations. The skulls they examine originate from the Pre-Pottery Neolithic (PPN) B period of the Levant at about 10,500 – 8,700 years ago. One of the skulls, in the British Museum was one of seven plastered skulls recovered by Kathleen Kenyon from the in 1953. The PPNB is an important period of human history because it represents a transition from a foraging lifeway to a more sedentary, agricultural one along with a marked increase in population densities and expansions within the Levant.

Caches of skulls like the one that Kenyon recovered in Jericho have been found at other sites, their facial features remodeled in plaster and often painted with cowrie shells added to represent eyes. There is no evidence that the individuals who had their skulls plastered were of high status or elites of the settlements. There is, however, evidence of burials associated with the settlements which had skulls removed while other bodies were dumped unceremoniously in waste pits also associated with the settlements. The number of burials found are not sufficient enough in number to account for the population sizes of these settlements^[6][7][8] .

The researchers (Fletcher et al) suggest that the removal, decoration and curation of artificially modified skulls was not a mortuary practice but, rather, a life practice in which these carefully plastered and painted skulls were ritual symbols of the relationship between life and death. To get to this conclusion, they demonstrated that the skulls, thought only to be modified postmortem, were also modified antemortem. Fletcher et al used radiographic analysis to examine the skulls and show that there existed evidence for in vivo cranial modification due to a varied thickness of the inner table of the cranial vault. In non-modified skulls, this thickness is uniform and consistent, but in skulls that have been modified, the thickness varies. They also note the painted stripes across the parietal bones of one skull, which might represent the method of binding the cranium.

Its possible that the skulls were chosen for their morphology – the preference was for crania with “low wide faces and broad vaults,” which happens to be present in many of the culturally modified skulls found elsewhere. While its possible that skulls are chosen based on their sex and part of the veneration of elder males, the fact that plastering obscures characteristics for determining sex means this may not actually be the case. In addition, evidence for the plastering of female and child skulls seems to refute this sort of ancestor cult hypothesis.

Along with the radiographic evidence that the plastered skulls were modified in vivo, there also exists cultural evidence for the aesthetic appeal for certain head shapes in Neolithic iconography by way of figurines that exhibit elongated skulls. Female figurines excavated from Tell Ramad depict an elongated form and at the Late Neolithic to Middle Chalcolithic site of Coga Mish in Iran, three figurines found there were of human heads that exhibit a round frontal view, but are clearly flattened and elongated in the back, consistent with in vivo cranial modification. Indeed they each have a painted black band encircling the head which could represent bandage bindings. Evidence of skull shaping is also present at Ganj darra, Ali Kosh, Choga Safid, and Choga Mish which each produced skulls where the individuals had undergone shaping in vivo by use of bindings as infants and were variously male and female. At Ganj Darra and Choga Safid, each skull excavated had indications of intentional cranial modification. This, when considered that not all skulls were selected for burial, seems to indicate a preference for skulls modified in vivo when it came time for burial, caching and postmortem modifications like plastering.

As Fletcher et al pointed out, the inclusion of females and children as the recipients of antemortem and postmortem modifications would seem to disassociate the practices from ancestor worship. Fletcher et al conclude that, while ancestor worship as an explanation would appear inadequate, the “generalized veneration of ancestral ties may reflect attempts to cope with the social and economic stresses associated with the changing economic and subsistence strategies of the PPNB and the growth of permanent large-scale centres such as Jericho [and] it becomes easier to accept that children a well adults could have assumed a significant role in linking living communities with their past.” The modification of the human skull in the Pre-Pottery Neolithic may very well have been a way of ensuring heredity and kinship within a growing and diversifying population that was becoming increasingly sedentary, which may explain the preference for skulls modified in vivo for postmortem veneration.

Perhaps the former foragers, now agriculturalists, of the Pre-Pottery Neolithic had ancestors within their societies who were considered inspirational leaders and founders of the societies themselves -individuals who were remembered as having skull shapes and sizes that, while not outside the normal range for H. sapiens sapiens, were nonetheless noticeably different. Perhaps, in an attempt to venerate these leaders or founders, or to establish kinship with them, parents began the practice of binding their infants’ heads to ensure this link to the past and to their ancestors. Perhaps something similar can be said for Andean societies in and around Tiwanaku where diversity and ancestry both appeared to be appreciated and venerated. The Arawe, who reported no other reason than aesthetics, may have been creating self-caricatures of an ideal form of an ancestor long forgotten, but still venerated unintentionally.

The true origins of artificial but intentional cranial modifications may never be known or understood and they may, indeed, be as numerous as the number of cultures throughout human history and prehistory that practiced it. But the continued study and attempts to understand this practice can help avoid making unintended assumptions that might affect the conclusions of researchers examining cultures that practiced it. Head shaping may not be a way of exerting dominance over another group or demonstrating elite status; trephination may not simply be a method of releasing spirits and demons.

1. Ortner, Donald J (2003). Identification of pathological conditions in human skeletal remains, 2nd edition. San Diego: Academic Press
2. Trinkaus, Erik (1982). Artificial Cranial Deformation in the Shanidar 1 and 5 Neandertals. Current Anthropology, 23 (2), 198-199.
3. Blom, Deborah E. (2005). Embodying borders: human body modification and diversity in Tiwanaku society. Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 24, 1-24.
4. Blackwood, Beatrice; Danby, P.M. (1955). A study of artificial cranial deformation in New Britain. The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland, 85 (1/2), 173-191.
5. Fletcher, Alexandra; Pearson, Jessica; and Ambers, Janet (2008). The manipulation of social and physical identity in the Pre-Pottery Neolithic: radiographic evidence for cranial modification at Jericho and its implications for the plastering of skulls. Cambridge Archaeological Journal, 18 (3), 309-325.
6. Meiklejohn, A. Agelarakis, P. A. Akkermans, P. E. L. Smith, and R. Solecki (1992) Artificial Cranial Deformation in the Proto-Neolithic and Neolithic Near East and its Possible Origin: Evidence from Four Sites.” Paléorient 18(2), 83-97.
   
7. Watkins, Trevor (2005). From foragers to complex societies in southwest Asia. In The Human Past. Chris Scarre, (ed.). London: Thames and Hudson, 200-233.
8. Hole, Frank; Flannery, Kent V.; Neely, James A. (1969). Prehistory and Human Ecology of the Deh Luran Plain. An Early Village Sequence from Khuzistan, Iran. Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press.

The practice of artificially modifying the human skull has been a part of human culture as far back as 45,000 years BP^[1], and it has been shown to occur on every inhabited continent . Two primary forms of artificially modifying the human skull include trephination, the deliberate and surgical creation of a hole in the cranial vault, and the application of pressure on the crania of infants or toddlers to reshape the cranial vault from its natural form. Various hypotheses exist to explain the origins and reasons for these practices in human cultures in both the ancient and modern worlds, but none appear to be conclusive, though several do seem to be compelling when reviewed in the light of other archaeological and ethnographic data.

Trephination

Trephination as a practice in prehistory was first noted by E. George Squier in 1865 but has been shown to exist in most inhabited regions of the world and in periods of human history and prehistory as far back as the Neolithic^[2][3]. Trephining is the act of surgically perforating in the skull for perceived therapeutic purposes and the term is often used interchangeably with “trepanation,” however, Ortner makes an effort to differentiate between “trephination” and “trepanation.” The latter refers to the act of creating a perforation by use of an instrument. The former indicates that a section of bone is actually removed from the skull. The term “trepanation” is derived from the Greek term trypan, meaning “to pierce”.

Squier’s Incan skull is one that shows a scraping of the frontal bone in four regions such that a rectangular piece of bone was removed as a result (fig. 1). The instrument used was likely an obsidian or chert blade and the perforation exhibits no indication of healing so the patient very likely died during the procedure. The discovery of this skull created a sensation within the archaeological and historical community, the sentiment at the time creating an expectation that cranial surgery by “primitives” or “savages” would be a complex task far removed from their abilities. Squier’s example was a clear and indisputable example of human ingenuity, knowledge and understanding in the ancient world. It was an unmistakable, intentional modification of a human skull by human hands.

Squier’s discovery inspired and fascinated Paul Broca in France, who was fascinated not only with the idea of pre-Columbian Peruvians performing cranial surgery but with the reason for the surgery to begin with. Broca believed the act of trephination was one that was originally motivated by superstition and an appeasement of the supernatural which he based on observations of contemporary cultures that did so for these reasons.

No clear evidence for the casting out of evil spirits, demons, devils or other superstitious motivations appear to exist in the archaeological record to date and the idea remains an hypothesis, though one that may be intuitive given the superstitious nature that can exist among human culture as pointed out by Broca. The intuitiveness of the hypothesis is such that it appears in both academic and popular texts and writings. Ronald J. Comer, in his Abnormal Psychology, discusses the idea that South Americans (ostensibly the Inca) used trephination as a supernatural response to severe abnormal behaviors such as hallucinations or melancholia and he goes on to equate the practice to Western exorcisms.

Researchers have analyzed 66 skulls obtained from 11 Cuzco-region burials in Peru, which exhibited 109 trephinations in all^[4]. Most of the methods of trephining these skulls included circular cutting and scraping. They discovered the survival rate among the individuals they analyzed to be 83% evidenced by the well-healed bone of most individuals, some of which exhibited multiple, well-healed trephinations. The key hypothesis Andrushko and Verano set out to test was that use of trephination as a medical treatment as opposed to cultural motivations. What they discovered was that great care was taken to promote healing and prevent infection.

1. Trinkaus, Erik (1982). Artificial Cranial Deformation in the Shanidar 1 and 5 Neandertals. Current Anthropology, 23 (2), 198-199.
2. Andrushko, Valerie A. and Verano, John W. (2008). Prehistoric trepanation in the Cuzco region of Peru: a view into an ancient Andean practice. American Journal of Physical Anthropology, 137, 4-13.
3. Fernando, Hiram and Finger, Stanley (2002). “Ephraim George Squier’s Peruvian Skull and the Discovery of Cranial Trepanation.” In Trepanation: history, discovery, theory. Robert Arnott, Stanley Finger, Christopher Upham Murray Smith (eds.). Taylor and Francis.
4. Andrushko, Valerie A. and Verano, John W. (2008). Prehistoric trepanation in the Cuzco region of Peru: a view into an ancient Andean practice. American Journal of Physical Anthropology, 137, 4-13.

In the United States, the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 1990 (Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act» ) mandates special care and treatment of Native American cultural remains, particularly human remains. The single best discussion on the internet that includes the most sources of clickable information that I’ve found on NAGPRA is on Larry J. Zimmerman’s site^[1]. I highly recommend it.

Because there is an expectation (usually) that Native American remains are reburied or returned to their tribes, it isn’t hard to imagine that archaeologists are on the clock from the moment they discover the remains to gather as much data as possible. Eventually the bones will be out of their hands and any opportunity to get a re-look or use them for teaching purposes will be lost.

But there is a way to capture very accurate representations of interesting bones for later analysis or teaching: make detailed cast of the artifact! If you’ve ever been to the dentist to have a crown made, you’ve been the subject of this method yourself. What the dentist did was apply a non-toxic, non-damaging alginate to your tooth to create a mold in which a new, porcelain copy could be made.

To do this with a bone or even a lithic artifact, you’ll need to gather a few, relatively inexpensive materials:

1. Dental alginate (about $10)
2. Casting stone (about $30-45)
3. bowl (free? check your cabinet)
4. non-stick rubber spatula for mixing
5. vibrator (not that kind!)

The process is pretty straight forward, but I can see where some practice could be important.

1. Put alginate powder in the mixing bowl and begin mixing a bit of water a little at a time. The idea is to bring the mix to about the consistency of cake batter. Use the spatula to mix and work the flat edge against the side of the bowl for a couple of minutes, adding water/alginate until you get the right amount/consistency. Keep in mind it sets quick, so don’t dilly-dally.

2. Pour and scrape the alginate into a vessel that will accommodate the object you’re casting (in the cast I show below, I used a disposable, Styrofoam bowl which I trimmed with scissors). Don’t use paper vessels. Use something like Styrofoam or non-stick or you will end up with bits of paper stuck to the cast. Non-stick reusable bowls are good for the environmental-conscious but Styrofoam lets you change the size shape with a knife or scissors.

3. Stick the surface you want a cast of into the alginate, being mindful that you’ll need to remove it. If, for instance, you want to cast a vertebra, you’ll want to do it one plane at a time, otherwise you might damage the mold when you remove it. Also, if there are any areas where the alginate can get behind and “catch” when you remove it (lamellae, osteophytes, etc.), you want to try to position your bone accordingly.

4. Give your alginate time to set. For this, read the label on the particular alginate you purchase. Some will set in under a minute (you have to work very quickly!), some in just a couple of minutes. If you’re casting a lot of samples, you might want the quick-set. Otherwise, I’d recommend the type that take a minute or two. Even if you have to manually hold a bone or lithic in place, this isn’t a terribly long time to wait.

5. Once your alginate is set, work the artifact out of the newly created mold. Rock it back and forth, pull, etc. until it pops from the mold. You should see a very detailed and reversed impression of your artifact.

6. Assuming you’ve cleaned your bowl of the remaining alginate (it cleans quite easily), now you’ll want to mix the stone. Same concept: add what looks like enough stone to fill the mold in the bowl, add water a little at a time, mixing to get the cake-batter consistency. Again, you can add additional water/stone until you get the consistency/amount you need as long as you’re working quick (this, too, sets fairly quickly).

7. Set your mold in its Styrofoam bowl or cup (or whatever) on the vibrator’s platform, turn it on (hold the mold so it won’t slide off) and slowly drip stone into the mold using the spatula. The reason the vibrator is important (and don’t bother doing this unless you have one or are using the more expensive type of stone which doesn’t require vibration) is trapped air in the mix needs to be bubbled to the surface, otherwise the result will be a brittle, crumbly mess. Scoop some stone on the spatula and just let the edge of the spatula touch the edge of the container. What happens next is what geologists call liquifaction: the stone becomes more fluid due to the vibrations and more easily sorts and settles in the mold without trapping air. Air that does get trapped bubbles to the surface rather quickly.

8. Once the mold is filled, and you see no additional bubbles (just a few seconds), go ahead and shut the vibrator off. You can add some extra stone to the top of the container with the alginate mold, so that you can create a nice, flat surface. Just gloop on a few more spatulas of stone mix (no need to vibrate it at this point) and invert a Styrofoam plate on top. Holding it all together, flip it over and let it dry for 1-3 hours. You might want to use a spatula to scrape away an excess that sticks out between the container and the plate. While the stone sets, it’ll feel noticebly warm since there’s a slight exothermic reaction as it sets. Once set, peel away the Styrofoam and gently work the cast away from the flexible dental alginate.

If you’re very lucky, the alginate mold will fare very well and you can, perhaps, get another cast or two out of it. Alginate doesn’t hold together well over time and it’ll loose its shape and form.

Below are two photos of the bone and cast I made. Its of the auricular surface of the right ox cocae of an adult male with Paget’s disease apparent in the skeletal pathology. I cast this particular auricular surface because it was so obviously not consistent with the subject’s age whereas the left auricular surface and both the pubic symphyses were consistent with a male over 45.

Auricular surface of a right ox cocae. Male, 45 yrs+. Asymmetrical appearance to the left auricular surface could be due to Paget's disease.

Cast of the auricular surface to the above

There are many different casting materials other than alginates (which are derived from seaweed and its the sodium alginate NaC₆H₇O₆ which quickly absorbs water which is used). But the level of detail is so good in a cast that it’s almost as good as the real thing. I’m told that scanning electron microscopy can be employed to examine for tool marks, evaluate striations to determine if breaks in bone is ante-, pre-, or post-mortem, etc. Below is a close up of the cast I made so you can see the details.

A close up of the cast of the auricular surface above. note the level of detail possible in using dental alginate & stone casting methods. Click the image to see the full version.

To obtain the materials needed, check your local area for a dental supply store. Dentists are everywhere and they need the stuff! A Google search for “dental supply” came up with a lot of hits and Darby Dental Supply, LLC was among them. I noticed everything listed above on their site, so you can get an idea on prices, etc.

This was just my brief and rudimentary personal introduction to casting. I expect I’ve a lot to learn and look forward to doing more. For those more experienced at this than I (and if you’ve done just two casts that includes you!), please feel free to correct or add to anything above. Or post links to pics of your own casts. I’d love to read more on this and hear other tips, tricks, and methods.

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1. Repatriation and Burial Issues – found on the internet 4/10/09. This is a page on Larry J. Zimmerman’s site, which gives an overview of NAGPRA and the issues that surround it. His case studies are mandatory reading for anyone interested in participating in any level of archaeological practice

If you like comics, the internet, and archaeology, you really must check out this short online comic.

The Secret in the Cellar: A Written in Bone forensic mystery from colonial America.

The Secret in the Cellar

This webcomic is based on a very real forensic case that was investigated regarding a 17th century male who was probably an indentured servant who met with a violent death.

If you go to the comic, let me know what you thought. Its geared for young adults or teens, but I found it enjoyable.

1) Archaeology of Homelessness: Zimmerman, along with student Jessica Welch, recently presented the findings of a study they completed which examined the material culture of the homeless.The presentation was at the World Archaeological Congress in Dublin, Ireland. The study was conducted near downtown Indianapolis.

What they found was that they can derive new information about the problem of homelessness, a contemporary issue in most cities in the world by applying archaeological methods to sites where the homeless congregated. From this information, Zimmerman posits that “[a]rchaeology can be a tool for making decisions, not just for understanding the past.”

“We found a large number of food cans. Most had been opened, often not very successfully, with knives or by banging them against rocks or even by heating them until the contents exploded. We rarely found cans that had been opened by a can opener. That made us realize that they didn’t have can openers, which must have been very frustrating to them,” said Zimmerman.

2) 2008 Peter Ucko Memorial Award. Zimmerman wasn’t just in Dublin to present his findings on the archaeology of homelessness. While there, he received this award for his contributions to modern archaeology due largely, perhaps, to his work in Native American archaeology and the sensitivity and understanding with which he has approached archaeology.

The award is named after Peter Ucko, the founder of the World Archaeological Congress and “a British archaeologist who broke with tradition during the 1980s by instituting the participation of indigenous communities as part of the proper scope of archaeology.” Zimmerman was nominated by four Native archaeologists, including Dorothy Lippert, a Choctaw and archaeologist with the Smithsonian Repatiration Office at the National Museum of Ntural History.

“The award was very humbling, and it was gratifying to be recognized, but I have to admit that I can make no claim to planning much of what happened,” Zimmerman said modestly. “One of the best things to come from my work and that of other non-Indian archaeologists is that we helped younger Indian students understand that there were archaeologists who cared about more than science, that you could be an archaeologist and still be respectful of traditions. It’s nice to know I had a role in that.”

3) Presenting the Past (The Archaeologist’s Toolkit, V. 7). I read this book a couple of years ago and it really inspired me. One of the things I feel passionate about is presenting science, particularly archaeology and anthropology, to the public.

In this book, Zimmerman outlines the need to present archaeology to the public as well as how it can be done. Chapters include: Recognizing our Audiences, Choosing the Right Medium, Computers and Presenting the Past, Visual Archaeology, and From Presented to Printed among others. If you’re an archaeologist and interested in presenting archaeology (or any science) to the public, then there will be something in Presenting the Past for you.

[W]e … need to learn that archaeology can be a very cruel discinpline. Like hisotry, archeology can literally undercut a people’s belief system. Little wonder that many tradition-oriented American Indians desipise an archeology that sometimes seeks to debunk their origin sotries. The problem, of course, is how to deal with archaeological interpretations about hte past and our kind of “truth” versus a concern for people’s feelings. That is no small matter!

We shouldn’t have to dumb down everything we do so that it “sells” or makes people “feel good” about themselves. Rather, we had better figure out that just doing archaeological reports doesn’t cut it if we want our publics to learn about, let alone buy into, our disciplinary views about the past. Worse, it may even alienate them if done without sensitivity to their concerns or needs.