The recent discovery that one lone piece of Stonehenge was brought some 700 kilometers, either overland or by sea, from northern Scotland has led to a new theory about the monument’s purpose: that it might’ve been built to unite the island’s early farming communities at a time of cultural stress. 

The monument’s stones come from Wiltshire, Wales, and Scotland. And they were set in place some 5,000 years ago, when (I remind you) the art of trucking hadn’t yet been perfected. Or invented. 

Even the most conveniently located stones had to be hauled more than 20 kilometers, so this was already a major commitment. I’d hesitate to move those beasts from my neighbor’s front yard to mine, and we’re within spitting distance of each other. So 20 kilometers? I’ll pass, thanks.

What I’m saying here is that a society committing to haul huge stones over long distances screams for an explanation. I mean, it’s not like the local shops had run out of stone.

Semi-relevant photo: I doubt much in this photo has changed since Stonehenge was built. Except that cameras were invented.

Cultural stress

The theory we’re playing with here belongs to archeologist Mike Parker Pearson, and the cultural stress he’s talking about is the arrival of a group of people who were new to Britain and are believed to have introduced metalworking to the island.. They’re known to us as the beaker people, after–um, sorry, we’re sort of going in circles here–the distinctive decorated beakers they made. 

What’s a beaker? In this case, a piece of pottery. The beakers were important enough that they buried them with their dead.

What do we call the earlier inhabitants? Good question and not one I can answer. All I’ve seen them called is Neolithic farmers, which is kind of generic but, sorry, I don’t make the rules, I only make fun of them.

The beaker people migrated into Britain from Europe, and the two cultures would have met, rubbed elbows, and–

Well, we have no idea what they did. Got roaring drunk, told each other lies, and traded songs? Fought? Circled each other warily? Could’ve been any of that, or all of it at different times. They don’t seem to have slaughtered each other, though. Not only have fewer markers of violence been found on skeletons from this period than on skeletons from the Neolithic, there’s also not much evidence of the extensive burning or destruction that would go along with warfare.

This is roughly the time when Stonehenge was built. Or, to be more accurate about it, rebuilt. If you’d lived near Stonehenge for a few thousand years, it would’ve been like having a family member who couldn’t leave the living room furniture in one place and also had to repaint, redecorate, and reconfigure regularly. And convinced everyone to pitch in. In other words, the place was changed significantly over time. What we’re talking about is the version of Stonehenge that we know. Let’s call it Stonehenge 2.0.

Parker Pearson’s theory is that it was built to bring people together–or “assert unity.”

If you want backing for that theory, consider the stone from Scotland. Unlike its more photogenic friends, it lies flat, not because it fell and hasn’t been set upright but because it was meant to be that way. And northeastern Scotland has a number of stone circles where the stones that were set in place that way. So the builders seem to have brought down not just a huge, heavy stone but a tradition.

What happened next

As usual when we’re talking about archeology, we don’t know the whole story, but in this case we get a particularly confused picture. The Neolithic farmers tended to cremate their dead, keeping them safe from the nosy archeologists who they knew would eventually come snooping around. That means we don’t know who lived where or when. 

What we do know is that the beaker people ended up largely (and slowly) replacing the original inhabitants, creating a 90% shift in Britain’s collective DNA. 

It’s easy to think that had to do with conquest and slaughter, but (see above) we have no evidence of that. It could’ve had to do with climate change, disease, ecological disaster, or any combination of those. It could also–convincingly, to my mind–be the result of a much smaller population getting absorbed into a larger one.

What can be documented is that for some 500 years the two cultures lived parallel lives while carrying out an extensive cultural exchange. Then, after some 300 to 500 years, they started having significant numbers of children together. 

No, I can’t explain that either. Maybe we’re talking about two unbelievably shy cultures.

“Just before the point where we can infer interbreeding,” according to Dr Selina Brace, “there was a hybrid culture between what came before and what came after. It is almost like it takes them a few hundred years to iron it out, but then they find an accord and develop this set of ideas that incorporates both cultures into something that they can all subscribe to.”

What that meant for Stonehenge

The beaker people found a new use for Stonehenge. Or at least, they found one that archeologists can track: it became a place to bury the prestigious dead. Interestingly enough, DNA indicates that the burials were all from the beaker people, not from the culture that build Stonehenge and not from the mixed descendants of both groups. 

How that went down with the builders we’ll never know.

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I normally post on Fridays and this was supposed to post on December 27. It didn’t. Because I screwed up. What the hell, no one’s paying attention, are they?