Wednesday, 26 August 2026

A stranger in the family grave

Thirty new genomes from southwestern Britain: Bronze Age newcomers burying their dead in thousand-year-old Neolithic tombs — and why we still can't say whose ancestry the last seven per cent was.


Around 3200 BC four people were buried together at Monkton-up-Wimborne in Dorset. Close family — two first-degree pairs, one mitochondrial lineage between them. Either four siblings, or a woman and three children aged about five, nine and ten. The grave was sealed.

Fifteen hundred years later somebody opened it, laid a man in the middle of the earlier cut and capped him with flint. Not related to them. Not descended from them. From a population that didn't exist in Britain when they were buried.

The same at Sisters Long Barrow, where a young woman was placed in a scoop cut into the top of the mound two millennia after the three men beneath her — and at Sale's Lot, where the secondary burial is also a woman. Two of the three reused monuments in the new paper by Vuković and colleagues received women. The authors are right that three burials prove nothing. It is a well-timed three, six weeks after aDNA showed the Upton Lovell "shaman" — goldworking toolkit, ceremonial cloak, battle axe — was female.

(a) Map of southwestern England showing the location of each of the investigated burial sites. Black square on the inset map indicates the location of the study area. (b) Radiocarbon-dated individuals in the study per site (y-axis). For each individual, the 95.4% calibrated probability interval is shown in grey. Individual labels on the x-axis are coloured blue (male) and red (female). The orange dotted vertical line represents the point estimate for the Amesbury Archer; its 95.4% calibrated probability interval is 2470–2239 BCE. - Fig 1 from Vuković et al.


The paper covers thirty individuals from twelve sites in Gloucestershire and Dorset, c. 3800–1400 BC. Everyone before about 3100 BC looks like a European Neolithic farmer; everyone after about 2550 BC looks Bell Beaker. The archaeological reading — monuments keeping their meaning for people with no ancestral claim on them — is careful and, I think, right.

I'm interested in a different part.

The question they tried to answer

British ancestry changed by something like ninety per cent between 2450 and 2000 BC (what that number measures). The interesting remainder is the seven to nine per cent of Neolithic-farmer ancestry in English Chalcolithic and Early Bronze Age people.

Everything turns on where it came from. Descended from Neolithic Britons, and some Neolithic families had descendants. Carried across the Channel by incomers who already had farmer ancestry, and it says nothing about British survival at all. Same number, opposite meanings — at length and formally.

This paper tests it better than anyone has. The usual weak point is the local Neolithic reference, pooled from wherever data happen to exist. Here it is nine individuals from the same regional transect, in some cases the same monuments as the targets.

What came back

The earliest Bronze Age individual — the Sale's Lot woman, c. 2620–2460 BC, buried within a generation or two of the Amesbury Archer — comes back entirely continental. Most of the rest are estimated at zero, or at a positive number whose error bars include zero. Likewise across a further 118 English Bronze Age individuals from the published record.

One exception, which the paper flags as its clearest positive: a woman from Fir Tree Field Ring Ditch, at 45.3 per cent local Neolithic ancestry. The confidence interval runs from 4.2 to 86.3 per cent.

The strongest evidence in the study for Neolithic British ancestry surviving cannot distinguish a trace from most of a genome. It rests on fewer than fifty thousand markers. And she lived around 1400 BC, in the window where farmer ancestry across Bronze Age Britain rises again — a rise generally put down to renewed contact with the continent.

The part that matters

These are whole genomes, shotgun-sequenced and publicly deposited. Every downstream analysis then reduces them to single random base calls at 1.2 million pre-chosen positions — the 1240K panel, the field's common currency for a decade.

Not laziness: it is the only way to talk to the comparative dataset. But the panel discards the rare variation carrying information about specific recent shared ancestors, which is the one thing that could separate a Dorset Neolithic grandmother from a Rhineland one. Sequenced, then thrown away at harmonisation, in a paper published three weeks ago.

The honest qualification is that coverage is thin — median 0.27×, range 0.014–0.78× — so the better analysis probably wouldn't have run anyway. Which makes the constraint structural rather than accidental. (These libraries also mean English Chalcolithic–EBA shotgun data now exist, where when I wrote there weren't any.)

Where it leaves things

The arithmetic is unchanged: seven to nine per cent, well measured, unaddressed. What has changed is that the failure has been reproduced independently, with a better local reference than published data allow, by people with a laboratory.

The man in that Dorset grave wasn't descended from the family whose bones he was laid among. That much is solid, and striking. Whether anyone in Bronze Age Britain descended from Neolithic Britain, we still can't say.


Vuković, N., Bernhardsson, C., Edlund, H. et al. Diachronic reuse of Neolithic burial monuments by Bronze Age newcomers in Southwestern Britain. Sci Rep 16, 26819 (2026). https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-026-66094-z

Monday, 24 August 2026

Rock on a Rope, how to level the lintels

 


In an earlier post on setting out the Stonehenge sarsens I suggested a simple way of establishing a horizontal: https://www.sarsen.org/2014/08/how-to-construct-level-sarsen-circle.html , place two posts either side of a small pool of water (an “Aurochs skin full of water”) and sight across their tops. Adjust the posts so their tops both have the same length of post above the water surface, the line of sight is level and can be transferred around the circle. 

A complementary approach starts from a different but equally basic physical fact: a free-swinging pendulum released from rest reaches essentially the same height on the opposite side of its arc. A tall central timber mast, a long fibre rope, and a heavy stone or timber bob are all materials the Late Neolithic builders already used. Release the bob from one marked position and it will rise to the matching height on the far side; adjust a second post until the bob just reaches it. For more accuracy, you release the pendulum from post A and it marks on post B the end of the first swing. When it comes back to post A the second time, it's going to be just a little bit lower because of air resistance. Halfway between the first and the second mark on post A will be the same as a mark on post B. Subtle and easy to get an accurate reading. Repetition is quick, free and easy so a reliable and repeatable measure can be recorded.  Rotate the plane of swing or shift the mast a short distance and a small set of levelled reference posts can be established around the intended circle. Once three or four reliable points exist, ordinary sighting or taut-string transfer finishes the job.

The two methods form a small family of “gravity levels”:

  • Water-pool / skin method – immediate visual reference, excellent for a local datum, but needs a still surface and a reliable container.
  • Pendulum method – needs no liquid, generates widely spaced equal-height points from one central mast, and is cheap to repeat when wind deflects the swing.

Neither is attested archaeologically. Both are simply possible with the technology of the time and address the practical problem of creating a consistent horizontal on sloping chalk so that the sarsen uprights could finish with level tops for the continuous lintel ring. And avoid the need for a water filled pig intestine or portable troughs as are often suggested as alternatives.


Pendulum method being tested


Friday, 21 August 2026

The Sarsen Transport Routes - A Least Cost Model

A terrain model you can argue with. Open this to understand this post: https://sarsenroute.netlify.app/ 


Fifty of the fifty-two sarsens at Stonehenge came from West Woods, near Marlborough. That was settled in 2020 by matching their chemistry to the source. It leaves the interesting part open: how thirty-tonne stones travelled 25 km south, across the Vale of Pewsey, to the monument.

Several routes have been proposed over the years, mine among them. None has field evidence behind it. So rather than argue for another line on a map, I set out to ask a narrower question:

If the only things that mattered were the shape of the ground, what it is made of, and the water on it — where would the cheapest road run?

The answer is not a line. It is a corridor: 37 km², about 5% of the landscape searched. Within that band the terrain barely cares which way you go.

Doing it blind

I am one of the people with a published route, which is a problem. So the method was written down and committed before any data arrived, and the published proposals — including my own — were sealed in a file that stayed closed until the result was frozen. No proposed route, mine included, is scored anywhere in the paper.


What the ground says

Four things came out that I did not expect.

The vale crossings are on sand, not clay. National geological mapping shows the Vale of Pewsey floor as one great smear of Gault clay and greensand. Zoom in to 1:50,000 and the five places where roads actually cross the vale turn out to sit on greensand benches — firm ground — with the real clay lying to the west, between Stert and Urchfont. Across all 360 model runs, not one metre of route touches Gault. The clay is real. Nothing goes near it.

There are only five crossings in eleven kilometres of vale — and adding every footpath and bridleway to the metalled roads adds no new ones. The same five places. When footpaths don't create new crossings, the crossings are being fixed by the ground.

Better data made a question harder, not easier. Two ways down off the Marlborough Downs, 2.8 km apart, are what the model has to choose between. At 50 m resolution they differ by 1.7% in cost. At 1 m, measuring the gentlest line the ground allows, they differ by 1.2 percentage points of gradient. More resolution made them more alike. Huish is not steep ground.

What separates them isn't the slope. It's use. One descent — Walkers Hill — carries a worn way running continuously from 219 m down to 140 m at a steady 6%, with the dished profile of a holloway. Andrews and Dury drew a road down it in 1773 and none down the other. The Huish face has a narrow farm track and nothing else.

Andrews and Dury's map of 1773

The bit I find most interesting

With no thumb on the scale, the model preferred the unused descent.

That isn't a bug, it's a bias — and I suspect it's general. A 50 m terrain model averages a scarp face. A smooth, unwalked hillside averages nicely. A hillside with a deep worn track in it averages badly. So the model kept choosing the easier- looking slope precisely because nobody had ever used it.

Feed in the evidence that one descent was used and the other wasn't, and it moves. But the model needed telling. It could not work that out from the ground alone.

What it can't do

A least-cost path is not a route. It knows nothing about ownership, tradition, season, weather or who you were allowed to walk past. It says what the ground permits, not what people did.

And it doesn't reproduce my own route. I think the stones came down Walkers Hill and crossed the vale beside Honey Street, on a low rise you can see on the ground. The rise is real — 1 m laser survey and the terrain model both find it, standing a couple of metres above the ground either side. What isn't shown is that it was made, or that anyone used it. The model doesn't go that way, and I've left that disagreement in the paper rather than tidy it out. A model that agreed with me would be worth less.

Have a go yourself

The model is online as a set of sliders: sarsenroute.netlify.app

Three hundred and sixty routes, pre-solved. Turn up the fear of hills, or of wet feet, or of river crossings, and watch the corridor move. There is no correct setting — that's the point. The route is a function of what you think a hauling party was most afraid of, and the tool makes that dependence visible instead of hiding it behind one confident line.

The full technical paper, with the method, the data and the things that went wrong, is on https://www.researchgate.net/publication/413532460_Modelling_the_sarsen_transport_route_West_Woods_to_Stonehenge_A_blind_least-cost_analysis_over_layered_open_data and https://www.academia.edu/172184320/Modelling_the_sarsen_transport_route_West_Woods_to_Stonehenge_A_blind_least_cost_analysis_over_layered_open_data.

Data: OS Terrain 50, BGS Geology, Environment Agency LIDAR (all Open Government Licence), OpenStreetMap. Analysis and drafting with Claude and Grok; the errors are mine.


Wednesday, 19 August 2026

Avebury 3D Fly Through

A 3D topographical fly through of the Avebury Landscape - https://avebury-3d-flythru.netlify.app/ . Play with it and get back to me with comments. It is schematic and only shows a sample of the monuments, but importantly it shows Silbury in relation to its neighbouring hills.

All built with Open Source Data so is freely shareable.

The various periods which you can switch between in the 3d model.





Click to expand


Tuesday, 18 August 2026

Why We Still Don’t Know Where Britain’s “Missing” Neolithic Ancestry Came From

I’m not a geneticist by trade. I’m an amateur who got stuck on a question that the big Beaker papers leave half-open, and then spent a long time trying to close it with public data only—the same call sets, tables and annotations everyone else can download.


The question sounds small. After the great ancestry turnover in Britain around 2450 BC, English Chalcolithic–Early Bronze Age genomes still carry roughly 7–9% ancestry that looks Middle/Late Neolithic-related. Where did that residue come from?

• Local British farmers absorbed into incoming communities?
• Or continental people who were already mixed before they arrived?

Those are different pasts. One implies survival and incorporation on this island. The other implies the “British-looking” fraction was already baked into migrant groups. Group averages hide the difference. You need to know whether almost everyone carries a thin layer, or whether a few people carry a lot and most carry none.

I thought public IBD, f-statistics, Y/mt labels, and the shape of published ancestry estimates would settle it. They don’t. What I think I have produced—and why I’m bothering to post—is a clearer map of why they don’t, and therefore where the problem has to be solved next. Not a funding pitch. A diagnosis.

What I actually found

1. The residue looks population-wide, not a mosaic of survivors.
On the Booth × Olalde overlap (n = 28), once one extreme individual (I2462) is set aside, the group is statistically homogeneous at about 7.15%. Between-person scatter is small; models where only a minority carry the component and everyone else carries none are excluded. Booth’s gradual rise through time reproduces—and it is a rise in everyone. That is a real result, and as far as I can tell it hasn’t been stated this way with a scripted dispersion bound behind it.

It still doesn’t tell you provenance. An already-mixed import is uniform from day one. A local pulse absorbed over ten to fifteen generations is uniform by the time we sample Early Bronze Age people. Same snapshot. Different histories.

2. The “trace it home” instruments fail on public products.
Long shared segments (IBD), allele-frequency contrasts aimed at British private drift, and uniparental “insular” screens all break under ordinary audits: leave-one-out, site pruning, shared-depth truncation, positive controls. The discriminating information—rare variants, fine Y structure, long-segment continuity at time depth—isn’t reliably in the 1240k / AADR-shaped data we all use. Sometimes the burial still holds it; the assay and the label conventions don’t.

3. Those are two different kinds of failure.
Three instruments fail because information was discarded (capture + harmonisation). The residue-shape instrument fails because information was erased (admixture before these people lived). Collapsing both into “we need more aDNA” is how you waste the next decade.

I also built a Sardinian re-imputation instrument to ask whether public IBD nulls are partly old pipelines rather than ascertainment. It validates within poles; the decisive cross-pole test is specified and not run due to the constraint of my available resources.

Where and how to solve it (not “who should fund it”)

If the goal is provenance of that 7–9%, the map is annoyingly specific:

A. Where the assay threw the information away
Hold the same individuals and change the data product: shotgun (or denser) sequencing → modern imputation → rare-variant / fine-lineage / IBD methods. Especially useful where the same person already exists in both capture call sets and shotgun releases (a clean ascertainment test). Published library-quality metrics for the people I’d prioritise suggest this is practical for most of that set, not all—some look too thin on public annotation alone.

B. Where time erased the information
Don’t keep sequencing well-sampled Early Bronze Age individuals expecting residue structure to reappear. Sample closer to the transition—Chalcolithic / earliest Bronze Age—where an absorbed local pulse might still show heterogeneity. That is a dating-and-excavation problem as much as a sequencing problem.

C. What not to confuse with a solution
More Beaker genomes won’t answer this. Ireland isn’t a free continuity control across the same interval. Collapsing Y strings to “I2” and calling it local doesn’t survive a shared-depth check. And a homogeneous ~7% background is evidence about structure, not a passport stamp for “British Neolithic survival.”

Why post this as an amateur?

Because the literature often states the residue, then slides past the provenance question—or treats every failed test as “low power” instead of “wrong information class.” I’m not claiming a final β. I’m claiming a usable negative architecture: four instruments, two kinds of limit, and a concrete split in where the next honest attempt has to go.

The draft paper: 


Full deposit (pre-registrations, results, code, audit trail):

If I’ve got something wrong in the genetics, I want to hear it. If the diagnosis is roughly right, the next useful work isn’t another average—it’s either denser data on the right people, or older people on the right dates.

───

• “Uniform at 7% is a result. It just isn’t a provenance result.”
• “Some missing answers are missing chips. Some are missing centuries.”
• “I’m an amateur. The deposit is public. Please break it if you can.”

Friday, 14 August 2026

The Plain Truth About Wildfires

 

Chalk downland has three available trajectories, and only one preserves the habitat as designated. It can be grazed to a standard. It can burn. Or it can be under-grazed, in which case succession returns it to coarse grass, scrub and ultimately wood — though the route to wood runs through a long phase of high fire hazard, so the third option tends to collapse into the second. The largest chalk grassland in north-west Europe has been demonstrating what the second produces for the better part of a century.

The habitat is semi-natural, a product of clearance and sustained grazing rather than undisturbed succession. The sheep-and-fold system held the downs open by grazing the hill and folding the flock on valley arable, exporting nutrients from hill to field year on year. That impoverishment is the basis of the botanical interest: low herbs persist because nothing vigorous can establish to shade them out. The habitat therefore has no equilibrium of its own.

Prescriptions have shifted over the last two decades from a uniformly short sward with zero tolerance of scrub toward structural mosaics, on the sound grounds that short turf serves a narrow suite of species and little else. Marsh fritillary and Duke of Burgundy, both notified features of Salisbury Plain, require tall tussocky vegetation and successional scrub margins. Structural diversity, however, means standing dead material — upright brome and tor-grass, unpalatable past early summer, accumulating a dense basal layer annually, and favoured by nitrogen deposition into a system whose interest depends on being nutrient-poor. In spring the taller sward retains moisture; in drought the same material cures into fuel.

The uncontrolled experiment

Salisbury Plain Training Area holds roughly 390 square kilometres of chalk under military control since 1897, with the SSSI, SAC and SPA covering 19,690 hectares and notified for twenty-five features. Grazing is logistically constrained: stock must be enclosed and moved around firing schedules, and research on the Plain has largely had to work on ungrazed swards. In the impact areas the constraint is absolute. Unexploded ordnance excludes the fire service from range danger areas, and the standing position on impact-area fires is to suspend firing, monitor, and let them burn out; water cannot be dropped directly, since low flying risks detonating ordnance by heat. Figures obtained under Freedom of Information put wildfires linked to MoD training sites at 1,178 between 2020 and August 2025.

Fire as a management agent

Natural England's Integrated Site Assessment of the SSSI (2014–15) records that wildfires in the Central Impact Area help produce species-rich swards in places by removing thatch build-up, and that Centre for Ecology & Hydrology work there has shown pronounced cyclicity in devil's-bit scabious — the marsh fritillary's foodplant. The feedback is straightforward: undergrazing accumulates dead material, dead material carries fire, fire removes it, herbs recover. The revegetating shell craters produce short-sward grassland supporting rare plants including early gentian, and are thought to act as fire refugia for marsh fritillary. The ordnance provides the firebreaks.

Fire and grazing are not equivalent instruments. Grass fires remove biomass without discrimination — work on grassland invertebrates on the Plain characterised burning and mowing as indiscriminate in what they take, against the selective defoliation a grazing animal provides. Fire takes tussocks and anthills along with the thatch, and anthills do not resprout, nor do the twelve nationally rare and scarce bryophytes for which the Plain is notified, nor the lichens. Woody growth, by contrast, is only top-killed: hawthorn and blackthorn survive at the root and return.

What the regime selects for

The same assessment describes the fires as an unreliable and potentially hazardous management tool that possibly promotes tor-grass. It records tor-grass as having increased substantially on the Central Impact Area since the mid-1990s, with no control available other than grazing and vehicle compaction along tracks; a CEH aerial-photograph study commissioned alongside it found the extent of Brachypodium rupestre significantly expanded there over the preceding decade. Natural England classes tor-grass as a negative indicator species.

Tor-grass is rhizomatous, unpalatable, litter-forming and a vigorous resprouter — a grass optimised for precisely this regime. The trajectory in the impact area is therefore not toward scrub but toward a fire-maintained monoculture: structurally open, botanically impoverished, and self-sustaining, since each burn returns the ground to the species best placed to reoccupy it.

This is the grass–fire feedback operating as expected. Fire is a weapon of grasses, implicated in the expansion of open grassy biomes through the late Miocene, but a weapon for grasses carrying the requisite traits — and on the chalk the grass holding it is the one under suppression. The prairie and steppe analogy fails for a further reason: those systems are grassland because the climate will not carry closed forest. The Wessex chalk sits within the woodland envelope, which is why the downs require management at all, and lightning in oceanic Britain largely arrives with rain. The chalk flora carries no fire-adapted traits of consequence — no serotiny, no fire-cued germination. Against the 2002 condition assessment, the proportion of grassland parcels passing all mandatory attributes rose from 43% to 62%, an improvement Natural England attributes principally to scrub management rather than to any natural process.

Prescription, not abandonment

The term for the third trajectory matters. Withdrawal of grazing on the chalk is not usually abandonment in the economic sense; it is frequently prescribed. On the Plain, grazing runs through Farm Management Plans with some forty-five tenant farmers, which require long grass margins, specify maximum rather than minimum stocking levels, and in special-restriction areas limit grazing to a mapped proportion of the area per year. The basic stocking rate on the chalk grassland is 0.3 livestock units per hectare per year. Natural England's own assessment notes that the plans emphasise avoiding over-grazing but do not adequately emphasise avoiding under-grazing or litter removal — and it identified under-grazing as the principal threat to the chalk grassland, flagged on 83 of the 282 parcels surveyed.

The standing fuel load is therefore not simply what happens when farming retreats. It is in substantial part a consequence of prescription, and graziers reducing numbers are often doing what they have been asked to do.

The transitional hazard

Reduced grazing is no safer a route than fire, for structural reasons. Succession from open sward to closed canopy passes through a phase carrying both fuel types at once: a continuous fine fuel bed of rank grass and litter, and above it establishing hawthorn, blackthorn and dogwood holding fine dead material. Fine fuel governs ignition and rate of spread; woody fuel governs intensity and residence time. The transition holds the maximum of both, and the hazard falls away only at canopy closure, when shading suppresses the sward and fine fuel continuity breaks. On chalk that window opens once scrub establishment is underway, which is the phase under-grazed downland and much recent rewilding now occupies.

The general finding is well supported: withdrawal of grazing drives woody encroachment, encroachment increases flammable biomass, and increased fuel load raises both wildfire probability and intensity, with herbivore grazing identified as the corresponding mitigation.

The choice

Grazing to a standard maintains the notified interest, at cost and with continual attention. Under-grazing leads to woodland, but only across two decades of elevated hazard during which the transition is liable to be interrupted — and interruption returns the ground to the fire-adapted grass. Fire holds it open indefinitely and without expense, and converts it to something structurally similar and botanically far poorer.

Fire is not a third route to preserving chalk grassland but a third outcome, and the one that arrives by default. That it arrives partly by prescription is the part worth examining.