Grant Award Results

The national significance of the 1556 Fitzwilliam tomb was first recognised and identified by Dr David Carrington of Skillingtons Ltd. in 2013 when a full detailed conservation report was commissioned. Their report found that  it ‘is a fine and rare example of early English Renaissance decorative plasterwork. It is also the earliest known plaster monument in the United Kingdom. It is therefore without doubt of national importance as a work of art and also worthy of academic study’.

The Fitzwilliam family can be dated back to 1219 to William Fitzwilliam of Sprotborough from whom the current Earl Fitzwilliam is descended. Humphrey Fitzwillliam’s ancestors were the Constables of Conisborough Castle in the 15th and 16th centuries. Sir Richard Fitzwilliam married Elizabeth Clarel of Aldwarke in 1443 and they had twelve children. The sixth child Edward Fitzwilliam was Sir Humphrey’s father. His uncle Sir Thomas Fitzwilliam married Lucy Neville and they were the parents of Sir William Fitzwilliam who from the age of 10 was companion to the future King Henry VIII. Sir William later became the Earl of Southampton.

Sir Humphrey Fitzwilliam married Anne Dalyson of Laughton, Lincolnshire and they had ten children. A brass plate on top of the tomb states ‘’Humfray Fitzwilliam Esqwyer was buryed at Clayworth ye Day of October Ao 1556 who had to wife Anne one of Ye Dowghters of Willm Dalyson of Laghton in the County of Lincolne Esqwyer: which Anne was buryed at Clayworth the last day of June Ao 1558. And had Issue Sons . Willm. Charles.Roger. Thomas. Edward. Humfray & Dowghters Elizabeth. Margaret. Dorothe. And Anne. Whose Soules God Pardon.’’

The tomb is still in its original position in the chancel as confirmed by the plan of the church in the Rector’s Book of Clayworth 1676. The tomb was illustrated in the book Ancient Sepulchral Monuments dated 1887 with very accurate detailed drawings of the front, east and west elevations. The decoration on the front of the tomb is worthy of note. In the centre is a cartouche bearing the coat of arms of Fitzwilliam impaling Dalyson celebrating the union of the Fitzwilliam and Dalyson families. There are leafy vine arrangements with round barley twists and stylised flowers at each centre. The upper part is decorated with trefoil/shamrock representing perpetuity. On the west elevation are three Tudor roses and on the east side three fleur-de-lis representing the Prince of Wales feathers. The photograph taken before any restoration was started shows a pew very close to the west end of the tomb. This pew obstructed the view of the stucco work and also prevented proper restoration work to take place.

Before restoration

We employed a specialist joinery firm (Kirk and Bills) to shorten the pew and replace it back in the chancel. We also need to create a breathing space around the pew which was achieved by removing the first layer of tiles close to the tomb and replacing them with limestone. All of this work was done under the direct supervision of our church architect, Graeme Renton.

After restoration

The next stage of the process, once sufficient grant money had been raised was to employ the specialist conservators Skillingtons of Grantham. This work was carried out under the direct supervision of Dr David Carrington. They stabilised the crumbling plaster, repaired the bullnose trim, and then cleaned the tomb but only used a dry cleaning method so as not to obliterate the ancient pencil marks on the surface. The Church Building Council wanted the top layer of plaster removing from the plinth but this proved to be a very difficult procedure because it was attached to the brickwork underneath. A sample area was removed which involved a lot of hammering and banging so Dr Carrington contacted the Church Building council and asked to fill in the gap and not remove any more of the plinth which could have caused further damage to the tomb. Hence you will notice a small patch on the plinth at the front. We have also installed a barrier rope in front of the tomb to try and prevent any further damage occurring.

5000-year-old tomb discovered in Orkney!

Archaeologists have discovered the ruins of an incredibly rare 5000-year-old Neolithic tomb that was largely destroyed without record in the 19th century.

The three-week excavation at Holm, East Mainland, Orkney, directed by Dr Hugo Anderson-Whymark, National Museums Scotland, and Professor Vicki Cummings, Cardiff University, revealed traces of a substantial cairn over 15m in diameter that contains a stone structure accessed through a 7m long passage.

The surviving drystone walls revealed a large sub-rectangular stone chamber lay at the centre of the cairn. This was surrounded by six smaller side cells that once had corbelled stone roofs.

These features allow the tomb to be classed as a ‘Maes Howe-type’ passage grave. Only twelve tombs of this type are known in Orkney, including Maes Howe, Cuween and Quoyness. They are considered the pinnacle of Neolithic engineering in northern Britain.

Most of these tombs survive as upstanding monuments in Orkney, but the Holm tomb was buried beneath a pasture field as it was largely destroyed in the late 18th or early 19th century to supply building stone for a nearby farmhouse.

Further digging in the ruins by the farmer’s son in 1896 revealed traces of walling and located a stone macehead and ball, and eight skeletons. These discoveries were reported in The Orcadian by the local antiquary James Walls Cursiter, who speculated that the site was a ruined tomb.

The rare and unusual nature of the 1896 discoveries prompted the current search for the precise findspot so that the character of the earlier discoveries could be clarified. The current excavation targeting anomalies revealed on a geophysical survey undertaken in 2021.

Despite extensive modern disturbance, fourteen articulated skeletons of men, women and children and further disarticulated remains were located in one stone side cell.

Further human remains and artefacts, including pottery, stone tools and a bone pin, were recovered from the Victorian backfill of the tomb by students from the University of Central Lancashire and local volunteers.

Dr Hugo Anderson-Whymark says:

‘Orkney is exceptionally rich in archaeology, but we never expected to find a tomb of this size in a such a small-scale excavation. It’s incredible to think this once impressive monument was nearly lost without record, but fortunately just enough stonework has survived for us to be able understand the size, form and construction of this tomb.’

Prof Vicki Cummings says:

‘The preservation of so many human remains in one part of the monument is amazing, especially since the stone has been mostly robbed for building material. It is incredibly rare to find these tomb deposits, even in well-preserved chambered tombs and these remains will enable new insights into all aspects of these peoples’ lives.’

Image courtesy of National Museums Scotland

The excavation of the medieval site that was once used for shipbuilding has delighted archaeologists when they also came across earlier evidence of a Roman settlement.

As part of the discovery, finds from a Roman settlement in use between the 1^st and 3^rd centuries included the head of a figurine of the god Mercury, made from pipeclay, which experts believe to be “incredibly rare”.

Smallhythe Place in Kent, a site cared for by the National Trust, has been the subject of investigations for several years by archaeologists undertaking research on the shipyard by the river Rother which was one of the most significant Royal shipbuilding centres of medieval England.

Excavations which have taken place over the last three years have found evidence of medieval shipbuilding and breaking from the 13^th-15^th centuries. Over time, the site gradually silted up and the industry declined. However, the discovery of a previously unrecorded Roman settlement has excited the experts.

Religion was a central part of daily life in most Roman provinces, and statues as well as portable figurines of gods like the one discovered at Smallhythe were worshipped by both the Roman elite and the ordinary citizens in their homes.

Pipeclay figurines were made of clays local to central Gaul (modern-day France) and the Rhine-Moselle region and were imported, however most pipeclay figurines found in Britain are of female deities, the majority being of Venus.

Mercury was the god of all the fine arts as well as commerce and financial success, but while he is the most common god for metal figurines, pipeclay examples are extremely rare, with less than ten so far found from Roman Britain.

Nathalie Cohen explained:

“Our excavations at Smallhythe revealed previously undiscovered Roman activity, dating from the 1^st-3^rd centuries AD, where we found tiles stamped with the mark of the Roman fleet (the Classis Britannica), ceramics including an intact pot, and evidence for buildings, boundary features and pits – which provide tantalising clues to the nature of this riverside community.

“But to come across a head of a figurine of Mercury, in pipeclay, is incredibly rare. Just 5cm tall, the head is clearly visible as Mercury, with his winged headdress. We sadly did not find the remaining part of the figurine.”

The complete figurine probably would have depicted Mercury standing, either draped with a chlamys (a short cloak), or naked, holding a caduceus (a staff with two intertwined snakes).

Dr Matthew Fittock, an expert on ceramic figurines in Roman Britain, commented:

“Pipeclay figurines were mainly used by civilians for private religious practice in domestic shrines and occasionally in temples and the graves of often sick children.

“Rather than pieces being discarded because they were broken, there is evidence to suggest that deliberately breaking some figurine heads was an important ritual practice, whereas whole figurines are usually found in graves. Few single pipeclay heads are known in Britain, some of which may have been votive offerings. Finds like this at Smallhythe provide an extremely valuable insight into the religious beliefs and practices of the culturally mixed populations of the Roman provinces.”

Funding for the excavations at Smallhythe Place was generously provided by the National Trust’s Roman Research Fund, the Robert Kiln Fund, the Society of Antiquaries, the Royal Archaeological Institute and the William and Edith Oldham Charitable Trust.

The Mercury head along with other finds from the excavation will go on show from 28 February at Smallhythe Place. For more information and opening times visit their website here.

In the autumn of 2022, I was a participant in a conference on Carolingian studies that was held at the University of Tubingen, Germany – it was a wonderful experience, none the least because we met in what is a refurbished castle on the university grounds. During the two day conference, I knitted as my colleagues and I spoke and discussed all things Carolingian south – and this was remarked upon by a couple of colleagues who were then based at the university. This led to queries asking me if I knew about the Campus Galli project? And then on to introductions to the director of the project, and the coordinators of the spinners and weavers at the site.

The Campus Galli is an experimental archaeology project near Messkirch, in Baden-Wurttenberg in southern Germany, near the Swiss border. It is effectively a construction project: realising the monastery that is described in the Plan of St Gall, a ninth-century manuscript presented to Louis the Pious, son of Charlemagne. The plan envisions the ideal monastic community: completely self-sufficient with its gardens, fields, livestock, and diverse buildings centred around a church and monks’ quarters. It was probably intended as an academic exercise, something for Louis to contemplate (as he was well-known for his piety – and the Carolingians themselves envisioned bringing stability to their diverse empire through a programme of establishing monasteries in otherwise wild and out of the way regions).

Construction of the buildings on the plan were begun about 10 years ago following as much as possible construction techniques, tools, and materials that would have been used in the ninth-century. The site is located outside of Messkirch proper, deep in the woods: visitors access the site from a carpark/busstop from which they must walk on a secluded path into the woods, the better to be immersed in the experience. Once on the grounds, they encounter about two dozen permanent staff members and many volunteers who not only work on construction of the site buildings (using materials found on-site where possible) but a number of huts and buildings dedicated to the types of artisans and craftspeople that would have been associated with a Carolingian village or monastery. All are in contemporary clothing, and much research is done to ensure period accuracy – with the exceptions of those of us who must wear prescriptive lenses, and that people may wear modern sturdy shoes (unless they have period shoes) because it is an active building site. All is overseen by the University, and there is an advisory board comprised of archaeologists, historians, expert artisans, theologians, and veteranians to oversee the site, its accuracy, and observation of the techniques. The project was begun in 2013, and the estimated time of completion is forty years.

After I made contact with the leader of the weaving and spinning staff and volunteers, I had to get myself to the site – it takes about a day to get there from London with a flight down to Stuttgart and three trains subsequently. I stayed in Sigmaringen, and daily shops involved walking across the very young and green Donau (Danube) – it is great fun seeing the river grow smaller and smaller until it’s almost a trickle as you take the train back from Sigmaringen to Tubingen). There are wonderful bike and walking trails all through this region, which was once at the bottom of a prehistoric sea – all evidenced by strangely shaped cliffs along the route. I went out on the local bus my first day to meet up with people from the project, then came back the next day (Saturday) for my first weekend there – a very busy time for the site, as weekends in the spring can see up to 1000 visitors as day. I was kitted up as best as possible to blend into the Carolingian surroundings, and moved into the textile buildings with a wonderful group of staff and volunteers.

For the next 10 days, aside from one Monday when the site was closed, I was collected in the morning from my digs either by the stonemason or the blacksmith, and brought to the site by about 9am. Staff had a morning meeting to work out where volunteers were needed, but every day it was a given that I would be in the weavers’ quarter. Here I got stuck in with a hand-spindle, nalbinding, and tablet-weaving on a reproduction Oseberg loom. I arrived onsite every day between 8 and 9am, and left around 7pm (the site is open to visitors from 10am until 6pm), and all day, whilst in contemporary clothing, I worked alongside the other staff and volunteers at our craft, speaking with visitors. When not spinning, weaving, or nalbinding, I would walk the site (and frequently stopped to visit the sheep) which is huge – there is ongoing construction of the church and monastic quarters as well as workshops preparing wood shingles, fencing, and stonework. Other workshops include the basketmaker and cooper, beekeepers, and several gardens (kitchen and medicine, as well as the dye garden by the weavers’ quarter). Onsite are sheep and pigs, and free range chickens (who live in their cosy coop at night).

I bought a hand-spindle in the giftshop and took a knife to it to improve the notch on the tip, and spun up fleece that had  been shorn from the on-site flock (which I spend an extraordinary amount of time playing with, many thanks to the very patience shepherd). I already knew how to do nalbinding, but I learn new techniques from the onsite craftspeople (and they from me – they work more with Scandinavian-style stitches and weren’t familiar with Coptic or Coppergate), and gave lessons in nalbinding to one of the staff who wished to make her own mitts. I was shown how to work a tablet-woven band on the Oseberg loom – there are warp-weighted looms onsite, but I did not weave on these: the general rule here is, whoever starts a weaving project on the WWL finishes it, to ensure evenness in the weave and the beat. I also helped with a small dyeing project in madder and weld on weekend, and with explaining the plants in the dye garden to visitors. One day I showed my colleagues the basic techniques of sprang, which I had only recently learned myself, and they took to it very quickly.

It’s always interesting to hear the comments and questions from the general public as they watch the spinning and interact with the spinners. Many times we were asked, ‘but where are your spinning wheels?’. The answer is, of course, that they didn’t exist in the West in the 9^th century, so all textile work began with hand spindles. We were also asked about Sleeping Beauty, and did she prick her finger on a spindle. Sometimes people asked to spin along with us, or to give it a try after watching. One day one member of the public sat with us for about an hour spinning. The wool comes from the fleece of the onsite sheep which is also washed on site, and those not spinning will sit and comb wool so that the spinners always have a ready supply.

Speaking of using local materials, prized possessions amongst the weavers’ staff are iron needles forged onsite, from iron found scattered on the site. These (mostly) tiny nuggets of iron ore are deposits from ancient bacteria. Everyone on site keeps an eye out for these tiny pieces, whether on the edges of the cultivated field or especially in some of the boggier areas of the site. These are collected and smelted down to have the iron extracted from them by the blacksmith, and sewing needles forged from them. During my visit I found one of the largest lumps of iron ore collected on the site, about the size of a small potato (but nothing like the giant lump that’s kept with the science and research lab associated with the site). The blacksmith wasn’t sure if there would be enough iron in the lump to extract for needles, but he did forge me one from other small pieces – an absolute treasure and a wonderful gift from my time there as a volunteer. The goal is for all permanent weaving staff to have at least two such needles in their sewing kit.

The big natural-dyeing session was postponed, but fortunately, two dye pots were set up whilst I was there. One was with weld, which makes a yellow dye, and the other with madder, whose roots make for rich reds and oranges. The shade can change depending on the metal of the dye pot (whether it is iron or copper, for example), and also how exhausted the bath is. The dyestuff is usually soaked for at least two days before being placed over an all-day fire; it was a popular event (although one member of the public stuck their hand in the fire to see if it were CGI or not! They were only singed fortunately).

Most days were spent working in the weaving quarter, but I did take breaks to explore the rest of the site and visit with the other craftspeople. One exciting day a group were in from Bavarian television and filmed a number of us engaged in our work. These scenes were inserted into a documentary about a newly discovered Frankish cemetery which ran on public television one evening = shots of the site and the archaeologists were intercut with the Campus Galli staff and volunteers to bring life to the contemporary context for the general viewer.

It should be noted that much of my engagement with visitors was in German – I quickly went from my limited Wo ist der Bahnhof? to explaining, in simple words, spinning technique, what nalbinding was, what I was doing with the loom, and what plants produced which colours. The staff and volunteers were patient with me and excellent tutors in this regard – I often demonstrate at heritage sites here in the UK, and the commentary and questions are often very much the same. To help improve the specialist vocabulary, I bought books from the giftshop on the site, spinning, dye plants, and nalbinding which I studied in the evenings. There were the occasional English-speaking visitors to the site, so here I was quite useful!

My time here in terms of experience and practice and in knowledge exchange was outstanding and invaluable.

Piña cloth, or textile woven from the delicate fibers of the pineapple plant used to be the epitome of luxury and high fashion in mid-nineteenth century Philippines. The weaving and wearing of piña experienced a rapid decline largely caused by the influx of British cotton textiles so that by the last half or the 20^th century it had all but disappeared.

Professor Roces’s research analysed the history of reviving piña and its afterlives. She argues that reviving piña resulted in re-inventing new blended forms of the textile (with silk, cotton, and linen), and creating new ones such as piña shifu. Because these blended varieties are cheaper and faster to make, piña has been democratised. The revival process has caused a re-thinking of piña to make it “modern” and “chic”—from adding color to it (as traditionally it was worn in its natural ecru color), turning it into casual or everyday wear, and painting on it to make it wearable art. Finally, the revival project has also altered the status of weavers and challenged gender norms.

Carlo Eliserio’s painting on piña-seda – Mina Roces

You can read her full report and its conclusions here. You can also see her talk about this research in our 2024 conference, Textile Culture, Social Fabric, and the Unravelling of Material History, here.