One of the skills that I wanted to learn this year was flint knapping. I did some research into possible courses and decided that Will Lord (based near Bury St Edmunds) would be a really interesting person to work with. His parents, as archaeologists, were involved with the 1970s excavations of Grimes Graves, the site of Neolithic flint mines near Thetford, and this has undoubtedly influenced his work in teaching prehistoric experiences.
My intention had been to learn how to fabricate flint tools to utilise in carving found wood and other foraged materials sourced in my exploration of tidal sites. For my “Quest” work I made tools which were emblematic rather than functional but as I envisage continuing to use submerged spaces as a source of research, I thought flint tools would allow me to work with the chalk, flint and wood I find there, and give a self-sufficiency to my work. It would also enhance my research and understanding of primitive technologies and rituals, and inspire new possibilities for my work. The tools themselves might lead to sculptural outcomes and also help me look at found materials with a new impetus.
I discovered that Will through his lifetime connection to Grimes Graves has a unique access to the site. I had intended to visit them on the same trip as doing a flint knapping session with him: when I heard that he was offering flint knapping at Grimes Graves itself I decided I had to do that course!
Grimes Graves are managed by English Heritage. They are the largest group of Neolithic flint mines in the world, located in the Breckland area of Norfolk.The 400 plus pits were first named Grim’s Graves by the Anglo-Saxons (Grim is another name for the god Woden, and they were believed to be his handiwork). It was not until one of them was excavated in 1870 that they were identified as flint mines dug over 4,000 years ago.
The landscape is very odd, with lots of grassy mounds, a cross between a lunar landscape and a weird heathland golf course surrounded by Thetford forest. Grime’s Graves is also a Site of Special Scientific Interest and a habitat for rare plants and fauna. English Heritage have a history of the site with diagram of the chamber here:
https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/grimes-graves-prehistoric-flint-mine/history/
When I arrived, I saw that Will had set up next to the small museum at Grimes Graves- there was a massive pile of large flints (shoe to football size) by a tarpaulin and benches. The day started withintroductions- there were 9 of us doing the course, and Will told us about Grimes Graves and his connection with it. He then showed us the main skills needed to produce flint tools, by demonstrating how to knap an axe head. This started with selecting a large flint from the pile and deciding where to cut into it. Will worked his way around the stone, explaining where hitting it impacted most usefully for cutting swathes away. However, even waste pieces of flint were often very functional blades, and could, for example, be used as a scraping blade to successfully clean a hide. The slender shards were also very beautiful, and held up to the light revealed beautiful milky streaks in the glass surface, or layered dark marks marking the impact of their formation millions of years ago.
The shape of the axe gradually appeared as Will cut away at the flint. Initially he was striking it with a stone (not a flint) he had selected as ideal in weight for the purpose. He made the whole process look easy, although there were still times when the stone didn’t fracture in the way he had hoped. As he worked the axe head he switched to an antler to nibble away at the flint, until he ended up with something he was satisfied with. It looked fantastic, and we were all impressed-and a bit daunted!
After this we went into the museum and got fitted up with hats and harnesses. We walked across the heath, and past several of the mounds, to the shaft above the Cannon Greenwells Pit. One at a time we were hooked up to a safety rope and had to descend 9 metres down a vertical ladder into the pit.
As you descend you can see layers of flint in the chalk structure of the pit. It is a large chamber-if you imagine primitive ladders criss-crossing it, there would have been room for several miners to move up and down- we all had plenty of room to gather at the bottom. It is completely dark, and takes a while to acclimatise. It is very atmospheric and also very silent, although when aircraft went overhead they were disturbingly loud-the sound really magnified, and made me wonder how much noise pollution impacts on the subterranean.
Will pointed out the various galleries which led off the main chamber: we were allowed to investigate these which meant crawling on our stomachs at times to navigate the space. It was an amazing experience. There were chalk columns holding up the different spaces and whilst this in itself was incredible, the element for me that was utterly inspiring was seeing antlers left at various points which had been used by the prehistoric miners. They were huge-they were red deer antlers covered with a chalky patina, and one had what looked like a chalk-putty hand print on it. We also saw various remains of fires which looked ancient and ritual with pairs of ?rabbit skulls in them. We also saw more recent fox and pole cat skeletons, all with amazing veins of jet black flint threading through the chalk as a backdrop in the different chambers we explored.
My photos are poor because of the dark and don’t do justice to what an incredible experience this was.
I lost track of how long we were in the Greenwells pit for-it must have been an hour or more. When we climbed back out, with the light at the top, it was easier to see the layers of construction where the pit had been dug.
We had an authentically spit roasted venison for lunch-it was fascinating to see Wil’s friend Simon using flint blades to clean the hide for re-use.
Will then demonstrated flint knapping again to allow us to recall the techniques and skills of this ancient craft. We were then given the rest of the afternoon to have a go ourselves.
The group I was with consisted of a mix of genders and ages: the two people I sat with were an archaeologist and a teacher who was a very knowledgeable Thames mud-larker. Of the group, I would say only one person really had an immediate affinity with the process –and it wasn’t me! I found it incredibly hard. I picked a stone and tried to work with it: looking back at my results, my three main attempts, although successful in reducing the flint to a fairly axe type shape, show that I got really confused about how to keep cutting to get the finished shape. I also realised I am an incredibly dangerous flint striker! Whilst everyone else made neat cuts, my shards kept flying at my neighbour. I decided it was unfair to keep sabotaging his work in this way and moved to using the delicate shards to shape into blades. I practised cutting away at them with an antler, and am posting the results below.
Although I don’t feel I have a natural affinity with flint knapping, I loved the day. I feel privileged to have been down the Grimes Graves and the sight of various antlers lying on chalky beds will stay with me for a long time, and I am sure will influence work as an unintended consequence of this experience. The eerie landscape was also haunting. My timeline with my all my bursary intentions has got pushed to a lot later in the year than I had intended, which has meant that I haven’t been able to put these pieces towards a solo show as I intended. I am currently working at forming the flint blades into ambiguous implied archaeological finds- tools/artefacts/jewellery- and will be showing them in Margate later this month, so keep reading future posts..
