Tuesday, 8 September 2026

Do Wiltshire’s long barrows face the sun?

Tim Daw · sarsen.org · September 2026

The short answer is no — not as a shared design, and not as folklore likes. They do not all run along the ridges either. What they do, mostly, is spread.

Every arrow is on the map:

The Wiltshire Long Barrow Gazetteer

What follows is the evidence behind those arrows.


Standing on other people’s work

None of this starts from a blank field.

Clive Ruggles insisted that prehistoric “astronomy” has to survive a proper test, not a pretty sunrise. His reading of the Wiltshire chalk — and his demolition of Aubrey Burl’s lunar-arc claim for Salisbury Plain long barrows — remains the honest baseline: no clear common celestial alignment, and the land matters.

David Field, David McOmish and Graham Brown, walking the Salisbury Plain Training Area, said the same in plainer boots: long barrows sit with care in local ground, without a single shared bearing.

Around Stonehenge, Historic England’s landscape surveys — Bax, Bowden, Soutar, Field, Barber and colleagues — drew the mounds that are actually there, not the scheduling polygons. Dave Roberts and co-authors then put twenty-one of those WHS long barrows into Internet Archaeology 47: plans, dates, and a calm conclusion that local topography is the key to alignment, with a note that the more easterly end of many mounds seems to have mattered. They published the table.

Timothy Darvill, Corcoran, Ashbee, Kinnes, Piggott: the catalogues and the Cotswold–Severn distinction. Environment Agency LiDAR, Historic England’s NHLE, the Wiltshire HER extracts that David Wheatley’s Zenodo recreation opened for reuse. We add a county-wide, chip-checked set of axes on top of that work, not instead of it.

If this note is useful, it is because those people already did the hard looking.


What was measured

A long barrow has a long axis: the line of the mound, not the way a façade or forecourt “faces”. That line has two ends. We treat it as undirected — a bearing between 0° and 180° from north. Midsummer sunrise and midwinter sunset are the same line once you fold the compass that way. That alone should slow anyone down before saying “it faces the solstice”.

Historic England’s scheduling polygons give a first-pass axis, but the outline of a scheduled plot is not the crest of the mound. Environment Agency 1 m LiDAR can see the earthwork when it survives. Neither is gospel. Each of 128 Wiltshire gazetteer chips was reviewed by eye (a 129th row, the ploughed-out Cuckoo Stone long barrow by Woodhenge, was added from the records; nothing usable shows on the chip, so it has no arrow).

Eighty-six mounds have a trusted long axis. Forty-three do not: too faint, ploughed out, or not a long-barrow axis on the chip. Famous names sit in that second group — Fussell’s Lodge, Amesbury 14, Winterbourne Stoke 71, the Cuckoo Stone long barrow — which is a result, not a slight. If you cannot see the mound, you should not invent its bearing.

Those 86 arrows are what the map draws.


Figure 1. Eighty-six Wiltshire long-barrow axes, each drawn both ways. The dashed lines are sunrise on a flat horizon at this latitude: midsummer, equinox, midwinter. They are drawn so you can see them. They are not a finding.


What the 86 actually do

They spread.

There is a gentle pile-up near east–west. There is not a spike at midsummer (~50°) or midwinter (~129°). A proper circular test on undirected data does not reject a uniform scatter for the full sample. Restrict the set to the 80 earthen (Wessex) mounds and the scatter is even more ordinary. The seven peer-cited Cotswold–Severn chambered long barrows in the county are too few to carry a solar argument; several simply run roughly east–west — the mound, not the forecourt.

Around Stonehenge itself — the group Roberts and Historic England know best — there is no preferred bearing. That matches what they already said.

A weak east–west hint remains among HER-certain sites only. It is not a solstice, and it is not a tight cluster. It is the smear you would expect if people sometimes built along a down, sometimes across a spur, and often just along the mound they had room to raise.


Figure 2. The same 86 in ten-degree bins. The dotted line is what an even spread would look like. Midsummer sunrise does not win.

Score each barrow against whichever solstice is closer and the match looks better — until you give a random set of axes the same two targets. Chance is then just as close. That is the whole of the solar result.


Ridges, not a rule

So are they simply laid along the ridges?

We fitted a plane to the Environment Agency terrain in a ring around each mound (close enough to be “here”, far enough out that the barrow itself is not the hill). The long axes sit nearer the contour than chance would put them. They prefer the ridge line to the fall line. They do not glue themselves to the ridge. Half the sample is still more than thirty degrees off the local ground.

That is the picture Field, McOmish, Ruggles and Roberts described in words: careful siting, no single recipe.


Figure 3. Each point is one barrow: long axis against a fitted local plane (a blunt screen — see West Kennet below). If every mound followed that plane, the points would sit on the diagonal. They do not.

Winterbourne Stoke 1, the great mound at Longbarrow Crossroads, is the example Field already flagged. Its axis is about 35°, in the same NE–SW class Historic England surveyed. Midsummer sunrise is about 50°. The ridge of the later round-barrow cemetery runs that way too. Field wrote that the solar match may be coincidence given the topography. A wider look at the DTM says the ground immediately around the mound is almost flat. The land does not force a choice, and we should not pretend it does.

“But West Kennet runs along the top of a ridge”

It does. Anyone who has stood on the mound knows the Kennet is under the north flank. We are not denying that.

Two different sentences get stuck together here.

Where it is: on a spur of the downs, a nose of high ground with the river valley wrapping north and east. That is siting.

Which way the mound points: roughly east–west (84.5°), along the local crest of that nose.

East Kennet, a mile to the south-east and the same Cotswold–Severn tradition, is the foil. Historic England’s scheduling puts it below the crest of a north-east facing slope, long axis north-west/south-east. The eye on the mound is about 139°. That is across the ridge of the same downs, not along it. West Kennet rides the nose of the spur. East Kennet cuts across the high ground. Same tradition, two recipes.

Figure 4. West Kennet (black) along the ridge; East Kennet (brown) across it. Environment Agency terrain, about four kilometres across.

So the old description of West Kennet is fair at valley scale. A sceptic who says “it follows the ridge” is looking at the same ground we are. They cannot then say the Kennet long barrows as a class follow the ridge: East Kennet is the neighbour that doesn’t.

The county-wide computer test is blunter: the best-fit tilt of a ring of ground around each mound, so the barrow itself is not counted as the hill. A ridge falls both ways; the steeper or broader flank wins the plane. At West Kennet that flank is the rise westward onto the downs, so the machine reports the axis as “across the local slope.” At East Kennet the ring is the north-east hillside, so the machine reports the axis as along the scarp, not the watershed. Neither report is the named ridge. Believe the contours.

We are confident of this much:

  • West Kennet is on a ridge, and its long axis follows the nose of that spur.
  • East Kennet is on the same high ground, below the crest, and its long axis cuts across the ridge.
  • Neither is a midsummer alignment (84.5° and 139° are not ~50°).
  • Two famous mounds on one down do not make a rule for the other 84. The set as a whole is only modestly closer to local contours than chance, which is why Field, McOmish, Ruggles and Roberts refused a single recipe.

If the computer and the eye disagree on a celebrity barrow, believe the eye and the contours. The statistics are for the crowd.


Agreement with the surveyors

On the Stonehenge World Heritage Site, Historic England and Roberts et al. had already classed the long axes (NE–SW, W–E, and so on). Where we both measured the same mound, we land in the same quadrant. Winterbourne Stoke 1, Amesbury 42, the Wilsford and Figheldean groups, Netheravon Bake: the eye on the LiDAR chip is seeing what the earthwork survey saw.

That is the point of doing the work this way. The new county set is not a rival catalogue. It takes their standard of looking — mound, not paperwork — out across Wiltshire, including the unscheduled and the almost-ploughed.

Scheduling polygons remain on the map as evidence. They are sometimes right, and sometimes nearly at right angles to the earthwork. The arrows ignore those failures.


How to read the map

On the gazetteer, gold markers are HER-certain, grey are possible. Rim arrows mark the long axis where we could see one. A plain circle means we could not, and we have not borrowed a polygon to fake it.

Filter by earthen versus Cotswold–Severn (seven chambered sites, membership from the published lists only). Zoom in on a desktop and the 1 m LiDAR chip appears. The detail panel still shows the NHLE and auto-LiDAR numbers as witnesses.

If a name you love has no arrow, that is the honest state of the earthwork on the chip.


Same chalk, different seats

Positioning is not only axis versus ridge. A separate overlay of the gazetteer against Wiltshire’s hillforts asks a coarser question: do the two traditions sit on the same kind of ground?

They share the chalk. They barely share sites. Hillforts hug the scarps — higher, and much more locally proud. Long barrows sit back on the plateaux and gentle rises. The empty space between the pins looks like avoidance; geography explains most of it. The traditions are also about three thousand years apart, and several forts sit on or beside a barrow — the opposite of a taboo.

That comparison is a companion note (map + write-up): Do Wiltshire hillforts avoid long barrows?


Which end is the front?

The undirected long axis is still the main result above. A separate, lighter pass asked a different question: where a façade, forecourt, chambered end, or clearly broader/higher end can be named, which way does that end point?

NHLE and published notes give a firm label for only fourteen mounds. An eye pass on the same LiDAR chips used for the axes — looking for taper and labelled ends, not inventing fronts — raised a further twenty-one as broader-end candidates and left ninety-four undecided. So at best about a quarter of the gazetteer has a directed call. That is not the same sample as the eighty-six axes.

Among those thirty-five directed calls, twenty-eight sit in the eastern half of the compass (E, NE, or SE), five in the western half, and two due N or S. That is an eastern-hemisphere lean once a front is readable. It is not “they all face east,” and it is not a solstice spike: many of those fronts are simply the easterly end of an already east–west mound. Two labelled cases are higher or broader toward the west. Cotswold–Severn chambered façades are still not the mound long axis.

Treat this as a hedged aside, not a second solar paper. Readable taper and published labels are a biased subset. Broader-end calls are eye judgment on chips, not excavation. The undirected-axis result above does not change: the eighty-six still spread, without a shared midsummer or midwinter aim.

More research is needed before any directed façade claim can carry the county: fuller HER and excavation labels, a clearer rule for broader-end calls, and an honest test of whether the readable subset is biased toward already east–west mounds.


What we are not saying

We are not saying Neolithic people never watched the sky. We are saying this set of mound long axes does not show a shared solstitial aim.

We are not saying topography did not matter. We are saying it mattered locally and variously, which is what the people who walked these downs already told us.

We are not promoting broader-end eye calls into a county façade catalogue. Where NHLE or excavation already names an end, that stands; the rest wait for better evidence.

And we are not done. Ashbee’s and Kinnes’s printed lists, and a true viewshed against a wooded or bare horizon, are still sitting on the shelf. A first cut at skyline-from-below is a companion note: Do Wiltshire’s long barrows stand on the skyline? The hillforts overlay is a positioning addendum: Do Wiltshire hillforts avoid long barrows? The map will move as the gazetteer does.


Figures, tables and the full statistical note live with the technical companion: wiltshire-long-barrow-orientations.html.

Compilation © Tim Daw / sarsen.org · CC BY-SA 4.0.
NHLE © Historic England / OGL · EA LiDAR © Environment Agency / OGL.
Roberts et al. 2018, Internet Archaeology 47, CC BY.
HER seed: Wheatley recreation 10.5281/zenodo.11005373; Kutty 2024 10.5281/zenodo.10989406.

With thanks

Ruggles; Field, McOmish and Brown; Roberts, Valdez-Tullett, Last, Oswald, Bowden, Field, Barber, Bax and all the Historic England Stonehenge landscape team; Darvill; Ashbee; Kinnes; the Wiltshire and Swindon HER; Historic England NHLE; Environment Agency LiDAR. The mistakes are ours.

 


Monday, 7 September 2026

Does the A303 corridor record glacial till at Stonehenge?

Steve Hooker (BuyStonehenge) and now Brian John (Stonehenge and the Ice Age) have asked the fair question: a few NSIP evaluation sheets say “glacial” or even “glacial till” — is that ice on Salisbury Plain, or loose wording?


I’ve put the Highways / NSIP holes on a map with the elevations and deposit labels: A303 corridor gazetteer. Five trenches carry a “glacial wording” flag. Four of them (Report 4, Western Portal) sit together on Normanton Down high ground (~97–99.5 m OD): T241 “glacial coombe”, T247 / T248 “glacially affected coombe chalk”, T263 “glacial scouring / glaciation”. The same report’s results section and neighbouring sheets call the natural soliflucted / cryoturbated chalk with periglacial stripes (e.g. T214 / T215, p.71) — one coombe-crossing cluster, not four ice claims.

The fifth is eastern (Report 5, Countess West): T511 context 51132 has the famous “fluvial action on glacial till…” sentence. Immediately above, 51131 is “Soliflucted chalk. Same as (51103)”, and 51132–51136 are all equated to that natural. Sample 51138 is a 40 L bulk of 51135 (light green sand and degraded chalk), not of the till sentence — and in Appendix C (p.86) it sits in the charred-plant / flotation table. It was kept for environmental archaeology, not as a till micromorphology bag waiting for a glacialist.

Report 5’s own geoarchaeology defines coombe as material soliflucted under periglacial freeze–thaw. BGS Salisbury Sheet 298 maps Head / Coombe on the Plain, not ice-sheet till. Clarke & Kirkland (2026) likewise leave the Plain unglaciated. So the corridor answers Steve and Brian’s wording question: cold-stage Head / coombe, not lodgement till. 


Stonehenge bottom - note slumping of the slope 

The hummocky ground of Stonehenge Bottom is likewise not ice: LiDAR shows scrape hollows upslope and spoil heaps below, ordinary chalk diggings and slumps, the same pattern as on other dry-valley edges, not dead-ice hummocky moraines. As for “nobody has clast-counted the coombe for exotics,” river-gravel and terrace assemblages in this district have already been worked; if the ask is something else, it has not been said.

What about the OSL dates? Steve and Brian also ask after four Phase 7B cores recovered in black liners for luminescence dating (TR010025-002259: STP70501, STP70503, STP70404, DTP70704). Those holes were drilled and the cores sent to a specialist lab, but no ages appear in the public factual report — and with the tunnel scheme cancelled, I doubt anyone still had the cash or enthusiasm to push unpublished lab work into the NSIP pile. That is a dating loose end. It is not evidence of till waiting to be discovered.

We already know what sits in these dry valleys from the boreholes. At Stonehenge Bottom the logged stack is periglacial colluvium / head over chalk (see the corridor gazetteer, including BGS SU14SW62) — not an ice-sheet till. West of there, Report 7 BH1–BH6 across the Winterbourne Stoke coombe likewise put freeze/thaw coombe and Holocene colluvium on chalk rockhead (~71–76 m OD). Missing OSL numbers cannot turn those descriptions into lodgement till.

The OSL we do have is still interesting — just for Holocene landscape history. Report 5 (Eastern Portal) dated the Trench 504 buried soil and colluvium (Appendix D): roughly 2.08±0.19 ka (Late Iron Age–Romano-British), 1.07±0.11 ka (late Saxon), and 0.47±0.05 ka for the upper colluvium — slopewash in stratigraphic order, with the report’s bleaching caveats. Useful. Not a Middle Pleistocene till clock, and not those four unpublished Phase 7B cores.

(PDF page numbers are viewer pages; printed footers can differ by one.)

Sunday, 6 September 2026

Paul Whitewick on the Sarsen Route


https://sarsenroute.netlify.app/ to play with the app yourself.

Julian Richard's Video Update

A303 corridor boring post

There is a special kind of tedium reserved for geotechnical trench logs. Four-figure grid references, "compact chalk with rare flint," page after page of it, compiled by contractors who will never read it again and archived by a planning authority that mostly won't either. It is, without qualification, one of the dullest categories of document in British archaeology.



Which is exactly why it is useful.

The A303 Amesbury to Berwick Down road scheme generated an enormous, publicly archived pile of these logs: boreholes, trial pits and evaluation trenches strung out along the corridor past Stonehenge, each one recording what the ground actually contained at a known grid reference and a known elevation. Nobody wrote them with an argument in mind. That is what makes them worth reading. Alongside the scheme's own factual reports, I've folded in 471 borehole records held separately by the BGS covering the same stretch of ground — two archives, never previously read together, now on one map.

I have geolocated and classified the lot — chalk, periglacial coombe/head, Holocene colluvium, solution hollows, made ground — and put it up as a small interactive gazetteer: A boring story: A303 Stonehenge corridor boreholes. It is, I promise you, exactly as thrilling as it sounds. Click a hole, read a soil description, repeat.

Buried in that tedium, though, are two answers to questions that keep recurring in Stonehenge debate.

1. No ice

Wherever the field notes use the word "glacial," reading the same report's own interpretive text shows periglacial coombe, solifluction, or a solution hollow — cold-climate processes reworking chalk in place, not an ice sheet dumping material from elsewhere. Across several hundred logs spanning a corridor of varied ground, nothing meets the sedimentological bar for till: no consistent clast fabric, no exotic erratic assemblage, no glacitectonic structures. This is one of the most granular ground investigations of any comparable stretch of English chalkland, and it turns up nothing that a glacial-transport theory for the Stonehenge stones needs.

2. No flood

The corridor's own elevations rule out a second recurring claim. Rockhead in the Winterbourne Stoke coombe sits at roughly 71–76 m OD; the Stonehenge Bottom borehole sits at 96 m OD with no aquatic sediment of any kind. Holocene sea level is close to 0 m OD. A high Holocene water table drowning Stonehenge Bottom is not compatible with ground that sits sixty, seventy, ninety metres above sea level and shows no trace of having been underwater.

Neither of these is a new argument. But it is a different thing to make the case from a coherent, geolocated, single-sourced dataset rather than from selective quotation — and it turns out four hundred pages of "compact chalk with rare flint" can do that quite well.

Credit where due: it was BuyStonehenge's desk search that pointed me back at this particular pile of documents, and re-ignited what is evidently an ongoing weakness for borehole logs. This is the third outing: after Stonehenge Bottom and the Fremington Clay boreholes, the A303 corridor is now the third significant hole in the ground I've spent far too long looking down.

Saturday, 5 September 2026

Don't Judge The Altar Stone By Its Cover

Ciborowski and Nash, in their 2026 reply to Pearce et al., replot the dry pXRF of the Altar Stone’s upper surface against Salisbury Museum sample 2010K.240, the palm-sized chip taken from the underside in 1844. They find offsets in P, Zn, Mn, K, Ca, and to a lesser extent Fe, Ba and Sr, “that – at face value – would preclude a genetic link between the two.”

Face value is doing a lot of work. The Altar Stone is not a homogeneous brick. It is a 4.9 × 1 × 0.5 m slab of cross-bedded micaceous sandstone. Bevins et al. (2023a) already treated top-versus-bottom disagreement as something a bed is allowed to do. This note is about that, and about what sedimentary layering can and cannot own.

What kind of rock it is

The published description is consistent across Ixer and Turner (2006), Bevins et al. (2020) and the 2023 authenticity paper. Fine- to very-fine-grained, well sorted, grey-green. Detrital muscovite defines a depositional fabric. Opaque heavy minerals — zircon, tourmaline, Ti-oxides — concentrate in thin laminae. Those laminae, in thin section, define faint unidirectional ripple cross-lamination. No fossils, no bioturbation, no cleavage. Bevins et al. (2023b) read that as a post-Caledonian, non-marine sandstone, more likely fluvial than marine, from a bed originally thicker than 50 cm, tabular rather than channelised, with joints spaced on the order of the slab’s 5 m length.

Two later cements fill the pores: baryte (early, burial-diagenetic) and calcite (later, after quartz overgrowths and compaction). Kaolinite is also a pore-filling cement. Those three phases are how the stone is recognised. They are not detrital grains. They grew in the ground after the sand was deposited.

So there are already two clocks in the rock, and they do not have to agree.

  • Depositional: millimetre-scale ripple laminae, muscovite flakes lying flat, heavy minerals hydraulically sorted into thin seams. Each ripple set is a pulse of current. A half-metre bed is a stack of those pulses, not a single pour.
  • Diagenetic: baryte and calcite growing in pore space during burial. They can follow porosity and lamina-scale fabric, but they are not “sedimentary layers” in the depositional sense. They can be patchy along a bed and through its thickness.

You do not need a million years for the ripples. A current lays a lamina in minutes to hours; a 0.5 m tabular sandstone can be a flood, a season, or a stack of events over a longer interval. You do need burial time for the cements. Both leave a rock that is allowed to differ from the rain-washed top to the buried underside. That is ordinary Old Red Sandstone behaviour. It is what you would expect of half a metre of sandstone. It is not evidence of two lithologies.

The Salisbury specimen is from the bottom

That matters, because the comparison is only a top-versus-bottom test if 2010K.240 really came from the underside. The label says it did. I have set out the excavation on this blog before (The Altar Stone Sample Provenance; Who was Captain Beamish; The Source of the Altar Stone Fragment).

The Salisbury Museum label, as Simon Spencer and I read it, is:

Portion of the underpart of the Altar Stone at Stonehenge – taken by Mr Brown of Amesbury while excavating in the summer of 1844 to ascertain if any interment there – no traces of such discovered – The search was made at the request of a Swedish gentleman who was deputed by an Antiquarian Society of that Sweden to obtain the skeletons. The relic agrees with the particulars I had from Mr Brown March 19 1845 RHB

A second, damaged label adds that the Altar Stone is “about 18 inches in the gr(ound).” Eighteen inches is 0.46 m: the thickness of the slab. The piece is being described as coming from the buried underpart, not from a dressed end of the upper face.

Joseph Browne’s account to Thurnam, published in the Wiltshire Archaeological and Natural History Magazine, is the excavation. Captain Beamish, an officer from Devonport staying at the George, dug about eight feet square and six feet deep “in front of the altar-stone… digging backward some little distance under it.” He was looking for a burial, not sampling the rain-washed top. I have argued that this is Richard Beamish (1798–1873), formerly a Captain in the Grenadier Guards. The identification of the man is probable rather than proved. The geometry of the hole is not in doubt: they went under the stone.

The 1958 Atkinson photographs of the exposed Altar Stone show the break, and a space of the right size and shape for the Salisbury chip, with a similar loose fragment still there. I cannot be 100% certain without a refit, which will not be allowed. It is physical corroboration of the label, not a closed proof. Taken together — underpart, 18 inches in the ground, a six-foot hole dug back under the slab, and a matching scar on the underside — 2010K.240 is from the bottom of the rock as it lies. Bevins et al. (2023a) already thought their option (i), that the chip came from the north-eastern end of the upper face, was “unlikely given the detail on the sample’s label.” The Beamish excavation makes that still less likely. The live option is (ii): composition through the 0.5 m.

What the pXRF actually sees

The Niton used an 8 mm spot. That is already many laminae in one reading. It is not the whole 0.5 m bed.

Critical penetration depth matters more. For light elements, Bevins et al. (2023a) cite Potts and Sargent (2022) for the depth from which fluorescent X-rays escape: Si and Al less than 15 µm, K and Ca about 50 µm — shallow enough to sit inside the zone affected by surface weathering and leaching. In the same paragraph, without a second citation, they extend the same logic to heavier elements: about 250 µm for Fe, about 2 mm for Sr, Rb and Zr, and about 4 mm for Ba. Calcium on the exposed top is therefore a measurement of a skin. Barium sees a few millimetres. Neither sees through the slab.

Comparing the dry upper face to 2010K.240 is comparing a weathered, rain-washed surface, analysed to a depth of tens of micrometres for the light elements, with a museum chip from the underside, analysed dry, on unlabelled faces, not on the cut. They are not two whole-rock analyses of a homogeneous stone.

The upper face already varies along its length

Three patches of the Altar Stone are accessible: Areas A, B and C. The 2022 dry campaign in the 2023b spreadsheet (mmc2) has five spots on A, five on B, and ten on C. Means in ppm:

n Ba Sr Zr Ti Ca Fe
Area A, dry top 5 5093 148 410 3799 13269 13983
Area B, dry top 5 2680 120 407 3480 15408 14061
Area C, dry top 10 1426 95 252 2403 15834 13734
2010K.240, underside 10 1163 116 342 3035 107085 10698

2022 dry readings only, from Bevins et al. 2023b mmc2. 2010K.240 is labelled Wilts 277 Amesbury in the file. n is the number of spots in that campaign.


Figure 1. Mean Ba and Zr from the 2022 dry pXRF. Barium falls along the slab from Area A to Area C; 2010K.240 sits with Area C. Zirconium, a heavy-mineral proxy, is also lower in Area C. That is a sedimentological signal on the upper face, not only a weathering skin.

Barium on the accessible top falls from about 5100 ppm in Area A to about 1400 in Area C. 2010K.240, at about 1160, sits with Area C. That is exactly what Bevins et al. (2023a) said: the underside chip matches the low-Ba end of the upper face. Zirconium and titanium fall in the same direction. Those two are hosted in heavy-mineral laminae, not in baryte. So the along-strike gradient is not only cement. Area C is a slightly cleaner, less heavy-mineral-rich package as well as a baryte-poorer one.

Calcium does not follow that gradient. Areas A, B and C are all around 13,000–16,000 ppm Ca on the dry top. 2010K.240 is around 107,000. FN593, the Roman-context chip, is around 75,000. MS3, a Hawley chip from near Stone 1, is around 17,600 — with the leached top, not with the underside. That split is leaching of calcite from the rain-washed face, just as Bevins et al. (2022, 2023a) argued. It is not the same pattern as the Ba–Zr gradient along the slab.

Bevins already floated two live options

The authenticity paper is not silent about this. Noting that 2010K.240 sits chemically with Area C despite being labelled as coming from the underside, Bevins et al. (2023a) set out two explanations: either the chip came from the low-Ba, north-eastern end of the slab — which they call unlikely given the label — or composition varies vertically through the 0.5 m thickness, in which case, absent a full-thickness transect, "the extent of any compositional variation throughout it remains unknown."

That is option (ii): vertical composition through the bed. They make the same point for baryte itself, allowing that the lower modal baryte in 2010K.240 (0.13% against 0.29–0.80% in the six debitage sections) could equally reflect dispersed cement or a real variation through the bed's thickness.

They still call 2010K.240 the go-to proxy. They do not treat the Ba mismatch as a different rock. They treat it as an unsampled thickness. If the chip is from the bottom, as the Beamish excavation says, that thickness is the comparison we actually have.

The rest of the pXRF suite

Ciborowski and Nash’s unused plots are P, Zn and Mn. The 2023b spreadsheet is a full Niton TestAllGeo export, not a high-Z extract. Bevins et al. (2022) already listed the wider published set in their Table 4, pooled across debitage. I split that spreadsheet sample by sample, five spots each on MS3 and FN593, twenty on 2010K.240, twenty dry in situ spots on the Altar Stone in 2022.

One clerical wrinkle in that twenty is worth a sentence, since a careful reader will find it. Ten of those spots were logged in November 2021, LOCATION field reading "Wilts 277" on every row. The other ten were logged on one afternoon in July 2022, sample name unchanged at "Wilts 277 Amesbury" throughout — but the LOCATION field ticks up, one integer per reading, "Wilts 277" through "Wilts 286," every 2.5 minutes. Read on its own, that column looks like nine other specimens. Read against the November session, where the same field sat still for ten straight readings on the same chip, it reads instead as what it almost certainly is: a LOCATION field that incremented while the sample itself did not. Quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus — even the careful nod. The sample column is the one set deliberately for each reading, and it never leaves Wilts 277 across all twenty spots; that is the set used throughout this table.

The table below is that split: every element in the 2022 Table 4 set, means in ppm, Welch t p against the 2022 dry upper face. n detected is in brackets where it is below the number of spots. An asterisk is p < 0.05. n = 5 on the chips is small, and this is many tests; the pattern is the offsets, not any one p-value. Cd (~72,000–79,000 ppm) and Sc (~11,000–12,000 ppm) are Niton junk and are omitted.

Element MS3
n=5
FN593
n=5
2010K.240
n=20
AS 2022 dry
n=20
MS3 p FN593 p 2010K.240 p
Mg 9574 (3) 8500 (2) 10596 (7) 7014 (8) 0.30 0.53 0.021*
Al 55765 45129 36809 27240 <0.001* 0.002* 0.028*
Si 326206 241077 247621 197198 <0.001* 0.28 0.069
P 2025 (3) 2313 (4) 531 (14) 3027 (19) 0.019* <0.001* <0.001*
K 9894 7331 6581 10765 0.39 <0.001* <0.001*
Ca 17606 74919 102482 15086 0.42 0.008* <0.001*
Ti 4050 3918 3217 3021 0.001* 0.27 0.44
V 59 62 (4) 45 (14) 46 (19) 0.055 0.032* 0.80
Cr 52 78 61 56 0.40 0.25 0.34
Mn 585 749 978 616 0.56 0.005* <0.001*
Fe 16663 15346 11173 13878 0.049* 0.10 <0.001*
Ni 82 87 73 64 (16) 0.022* 0.031* 0.20
Cu 39 32 42 (18) 25 (16) 0.22 0.18 0.20
Zn 60 53 44 97 <0.001* <0.001* <0.001*
Rb 32 28 25 27 0.08 0.38 0.027*
Sr 125 122 119 114 0.16 0.19 0.44
Zr 381 399 364 331 0.65 0.33 0.49
Nb 13 13 12 12 0.25 0.25 0.79
Mo 8.9 (4) 6.1 5.7 (16) 5.7 (11) 0.40 0.42 0.89
Ba 4027 4416 1223 2656 0.002* <0.001* 0.001*
Pb 31 37 46 37 0.09 0.96 0.09
Th 9.4 8.9 7.3 7.0 0.002* 0.005* 0.64
U 6.3 7.8 (4) 7.3 (10) 7.5 (15) 0.10 0.79 0.65

The complete Bevins et al. (2022) Table 4 element set, split from 2023b mmc2. Order is atomic number, as in that table.

What this shows, once the chips are named rather than pooled:

  • The high-Z framework (Sr, Zr, Nb, U, Pb) still says one sandstone. That is the 2022 linking result, now visible chip by chip, including the underside piece.
  • Ba and Ca split the chips by cement, not by lithology. The underside (2010K.240) is baryte-poor and calcite-rich. FN593, buried in a Roman context, is calcite-rich like the underside. MS3 is calcite-poor like the rain-washed top, and baryte-rich. That is a leached-skin plus patchy-cement pattern, sampled in different places.
  • The light and mid-Z offsets Ciborowski and Nash plotted for 2010K.240 (P, Zn, Mn, K) are real against the dry top. They are not unique to the Salisbury chip. Zn and P reject for MS3 and FN593 as well. Al rejects for all three. If those offsets made 2010K.240 a different rock, they would make the Hawley and Roman chips different rocks too. They have not been read that way, and the petrography does not support it.
  • This is the same family of surface-versus-interior differences Bevins et al. (2023a) already framed as leaching, baryte and an Fe-oxide film — now seen across the whole published element list, not only the selected plots. Whether any remaining light-element offset is lamina chemistry through the bed is the open question. It is not a missing column.

What layering explains well

Barium. Baryte is a dispersed pore-filling cement. Modal baryte already ranges 0.13–0.80 % across pieces of the same sandstone. pXRF Ba on the dry top ranges from about 1350 ppm in Area C to about 5600 in Area A. A chip from a baryte-poor lamina-package, or from a baryte-poor level in the 0.5 m, will not sit on the baryte-rich end of the upper-face array. That is Bevins’s option (ii). It is also why 2010K.240 need not fall “convincingly on the strongly correlated Altar Stone array” on a Ba–Sr plot: the array is the weathered top, along-strike; the chip is a different level in the bed.

Calcium. Calcite cement is 12.6–18.8 modal % in the sections. The dry top has lost most of it from the outer 50 µm that the Ca X-rays actually sample. The underside chip has not. FN593 behaves like the underside; MS3 behaves like the top. That is a sampling-depth and weathering story sitting on top of whatever vertical cement variation the bed already had.

Zirconium, titanium, and the “framework feel.” Heavy-mineral laminae are a defining structure of this sandstone. Hit a zircon- and opaque-rich seam and Zr and Ti rise; hit a cleaner ripple and they fall. Area C is lower in both than Areas A and B. 2010K.240 sits between them. Bevins et al. (2023a) say the range in Zr, U and Th “largely reflect minor variations in … zircon … most likely related to the abundance of heavy mineral laminae.” That is depositional heterogeneity, millimetre to centimetre scale, stacked through half a metre.

What layering does not automatically own

Iron. Bevins prefer an Fe-oxide skin on the exposed top. Fe X-rays come from about 250 µm. A reddish film contributes out of proportion. 2010K.240 looks unoxidised and reads lower Fe. Areas A, B and C are similar to one another in Fe, which is not the Ba–Zr along-strike pattern. Surface alteration is the better first explanation. Layering is not required.

Manganese, zinc and phosphorus. These are the offsets Ciborowski and Nash flag as unused in the 2023a plots. Bevins do not assign them to bedding. The sample-by-sample split shows they are real against the dry top, and that Zn and P reject for MS3 and FN593 as well as for 2010K.240. That could be surface alteration, pXRF matrix effects on a weathered face, phosphate in a biofilm, or real lamina chemistry. There is no thickness transect, so there is no licence to pick. Ciborowski and Nash are right that the 2023a paper does not mention them. They are not right that an unexplained offset, at face value, precludes a genetic link — and they are not right that the offset is unique to the underside chip. An unassigned element is not a second lithology.

Potassium is in the same bin. Bevins relate light-element offsets to surface leaching. K X-rays, like Ca, come from about 50 µm. A weathered mica-clay skin can move K without the interior of the bed having changed.

Two heterogeneities, not one argument

It helps to keep them apart, because they are easy to mash into a single “the chemistry doesn’t match” sentence.

Pattern Seen in Likely cause
Ba, Sr, Zr, Ti fall from Area A to Area C Along the 5 m upper face Sedimentology plus patchy baryte: different packages in the cross-bedded sandstone
Ca high in 2010K.240 and FN593, low on the dry top and in MS3 Top versus protected chips Leached calcite from the rain-washed skin (Ca sees ~50 µm)
Fe higher on the top than in 2010K.240 Top versus underside Fe-oxide film; Fe sees ~250 µm
Mn, Zn, P, K, Al offsets All three fragments versus dry top, not only 2010K.240 Not assigned to bedding. Alteration, matrix, or lamina chemistry; no transect

Layering is a plausible and published cause of top-versus-bottom differences, especially for cement-hosted Ba and Ca and for heavy-mineral Zr–Ti. It does not have to carry Fe. It has not been shown to carry Mn, Zn and P, and those three reject for more than the underside chip. Open is not “different rock.”

What this does to the bivariate-plot argument

Ciborowski and Nash’s point about selective plots is fair as a methods complaint. Pearce et al. asked for bivariate plots; Ciborowski and Nash showed the unused ones. The unused Mn–Zn–P panels are a narrower, better point than dropping 2010K.240 from the Scottish comparison.

What the plots cannot do, once the stone is read as a bed, is treat the dry upper face as the composition of the Altar Stone and the underside chip as a candidate source that fails to match it. That is comparing one weathered horizon to one other horizon in a 0.5 m cross-bedded sandstone whose own upper face already spans 1400–5100 ppm Ba. The debitage chips span that range too: MS3 and FN593 are baryte-richer than Area C; 2010K.240 is baryte-poorer. High-Z elements that live in the framework (Sr, Zr, Nb, U, Pb) do not reject a match, chip by chip. The light-element offsets that look damning for the underside piece also reject for the other two fragments. Modal mineralogy, minus the baryte abundance, puts 2010K.240 with the other Altar Stone sections.

A genetic link is a petrographic claim about one sandstone. It is not a claim that every 8 mm spot on every face will plot on the same line.

What this does not do

It does not prove that 2010K.240 came from a particular level in the bed. Bevins said the extent of vertical variation remains unknown without a thickness transect. That is still true and the Altar Stone will not be drilled for a sample.

It does not make sedimentary layering the explanation of every offset. Fe still looks like a skin. Mn, Zn and P are still unassigned.

Heterogeneity of the monolith is a fact about the stone at Stonehenge. It does not, by itself, name a quarry. That is a different question, settled by clays, zircons, and outcrop, not by whether Area A and the underside agree in barium.

It does not require anyone to drop 2010K.240 from the zircon list. The 1844 label, the Beamish hole under the slab, the ripple fabric, the calcite–baryte–kaolinite mineralogy, and the high-Z match still say it is the Altar Stone. A baryte-poor, calcite-rich chip from the underside is what a heterogeneous bed is expected to produce.

Where that leaves the stone

The Altar Stone took time to become what it is: first as sand, in many current pulses, then as rock, as cements grew in the pores. Half a metre of that is not one number. The published pXRF already shows an along-strike gradient on the top, a leached calcite skin, a low-baryte underside chip that matches Area C, and heavy-mineral laminae strong enough to move Zr and Ti. Split sample by sample, the high-Z framework still matches; the light-element offsets Ciborowski and Nash plotted for 2010K.240 also appear on MS3 and FN593. That is a bed, sampled at the rain-washed top and, in 1844, from underneath. Treating those as two homogeneous compositions, and reading their disagreement as a broken genetic link, is the wrong comparison.

The measurement that would settle how much of the remaining offset is layering is a transect through the thickness. Until someone can make one, the honest position is Bevins et al. (2023a)’s second option, left open: composition may vary through the 0.5 m. That is the expected state of the rock. It is not a problem for the stone. It is a problem for anyone who needs it to be uniform.

Sources

Bevins, R. E., Pearce, N. J. G., Ixer, R. A., Hillier, S., Pirrie, D. and Turner, P. 2022. Linking derived debitage to the Stonehenge Altar Stone using portable X-ray fluorescence analysis. Mineralogical Magazine 86: 688–700.

Bevins, R. E., Pearce, N. J. G., Pirrie, D., Ixer, R. A., Hillier, S., Turner, P. and Power, M. 2023a. Assessing the authenticity of a sample taken from the Altar Stone at Stonehenge in 1844 using portable XRF and automated SEM-EDS. Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports 49: 103973. (The two live options for Area C / vertical variation; Table 3 modal baryte; Fig. 5 ripple laminae.)

Bevins, R. E., Pearce, N. J. G., Ixer, R. A., Pirrie, D., Andò, S., Hillier, S., Turner, P. and Power, M. 2023b. The Stonehenge Altar Stone was probably not sourced from the Old Red Sandstone of the Anglo-Welsh Basin. Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports 51: 104215. Supplementary spreadsheet mmc2 (spot pXRF, including 2022 dry Areas A–C and Wilts 277).

Bevins, R. E., Pirrie, D., Ixer, R. A., O’Brien, H., Parker Pearson, M., Power, M. R. and Shail, R. K. 2020. Constraining the provenance of the Stonehenge ‘Altar Stone’: Evidence from automated mineralogy and U-Pb zircon age dating. Journal of Archaeological Science 120: 105188.

Ciborowski, T. J. R. and Nash, D. J. 2026. Arithmetic methods for exploring archaeological source provenance using geochemistry – A reply to Pearce et al. Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports 75: 106012. (Fig. 2 and the “preclude a genetic link” sentence.)

Ixer, R. A. and Turner, P. 2006. A detailed re-examination of the petrography of the Altar Stone and other non-sarsen sandstones from Stonehenge as a guide to their provenance. Wiltshire Archaeological and Natural History Magazine 99: 1–9.

Potts, P. J. and Sargent, M. 2022. In situ measurements using hand-held XRF spectrometers: a tutorial review. Journal of Analytical Atomic Spectrometry.

Daw, T. 2022. The Altar Stone Sample Provenance. sarsen.org. Label reading; Browne to Thurnam on Beamish digging under the slab.

Daw, T. 2023. Who was Captain Beamish, excavator of Stonehenge? sarsen.org.

Daw, T. 2024. The Source of the Altar Stone Fragment. sarsen.org. 1958 photograph of the underside scar.

Thurnam, J., quoting Joseph Browne, in Wiltshire Archaeological and Natural History Magazine 16: excavation “in front of the altar-stone… digging backward some little distance under it.” https://www.biodiversitylibrary.org/page/12541499

Area means in the first table are from the 2022 dry rows in mmc2 (Altar Stone '22 A/B/C; Wilts 277 Amesbury, n = 10). The named-chip tables use all twenty 2010K.240 spots in that spreadsheet. They are not the pooled wet-plus-dry averages in Bevins et al. 2023a Table 2.

Friday, 4 September 2026

Stone 62 - Spotting Its Source

Ciborowski and Nash’s reply to Pearce et al. includes a worked example on Stone 62. It does not propose a new source for the stone. It raises a methods question: how a geochemical similarity ranking should be read when it disagrees with a first-order petrographic observation, namely whether the rock is spotted.

The arithmetic-method discussion is in The Numbers Ain’t Enough and The Numbers Talk Back. This note is only the Stone 62 example, and only the spotting.

Stone 62

Stone 62 is a shaped, unspotted dolerite pillar in the bluestone circle. Pearce, Bevins and Ixer (2022) analysed it by portable XRF, compared it with Preseli dolerite outcrops, and matched it petrographically to sample PGDF24 from Garn Ddu Fach. Carn Ddafad-las is the same intrusion and a looser chemical envelope. That paper also showed that the Waun Mawn dolerites go to Cerrig Lladron, not to Stone 62.

The published source, as of 2022, is therefore an unspotted outcrop at the eastern end of the ridge. Carn Goedog is the spotted-dolerite source proposed for a different group of Stonehenge stones. The two outcrops are not interchangeable.

The tors

Carn Goedog sits on the north side of the ridge. The unspotted Group 2 sources used in the 2014 classification are other named outcrops: Cerrigmarchogion 1.7 km to the west (Stone 45), and Garn Ddu Fach 2.3 km to the east (Stone 62), with Carn Ddafad-las 460 m west of Garn Ddu Fach on the same intrusion. Craig Talfynydd, the other 2014 Group 2 candidate, is south of Carn Goedog. Waun Mawn is 6.9 km west of Garn Ddu Fach; its dolerites go to Cerrig Lladron, not to Stone 62.

The papers already treat these as separate tors. A similarity ranking that places Carn Goedog first for an unspotted pillar is matching a different outcrop from the one Stone 62 has been assigned to on direct evidence.

Map of Preseli dolerite tors, spotted and unspotted

Click to embiggen

  • Named dolerite tors on Mynydd Preseli.
  • Red: Group 1 spotted (Carn Goedog).
  • Orange filled: Group 3 spotted (Carn Breseb, Carn Gyfrwy, vicinity of Carn Alw).
  • Orange open: Carn Menyn, spotted dolerite but not a 2014 Group 3 outcrop.
  • Blue filled squares: Group 2 unspotted (Cerrigmarchogion, Craig Talfynydd, Garn Ddu Fach, Carn Ddafad-las).
  • Blue open square: Cerrig Lladron, the Waun Mawn source, not in the 2014 Group 2 list.
  • Carn Goedog to Garn Ddu Fach is 2.3 km; Carn Goedog to Cerrigmarchogion is 1.7 km. Craig Talfynydd* is placed in OS kilometre square SN1231.
  • Basemap OpenStreetMap / OpenTopoMap. Groups 1–3 after Bevins, Ixer and Pearce 2014; Stone 62 after Pearce et al. 2022.

The similarity ranking

Ciborowski and Nash took Pearce et al.’s Preseli pXRF numbers and applied their arithmetic similarity method as a worked example. The ranking depended on which Stone 62 dataset they used:

Stone 62 dataset 1st 2nd 3rd
In situ analyses Garn Ddu Fach Carn Ddafad-las
1980s core Carn Goedog Carn Ddafad-las Garn Ddu Fach

The in situ ranking agrees with Pearce et al. (2022). The core ranking does not. That is the result Pearce et al. (2026) discuss.

Petrography

Ciborowski and Nash number Pearce et al.’s conclusions and answer them in order. Their point 7 is this sentence, given as Pearce’s:

The calculation approach fails to take into account even the most basic petrographic observations, which in the case of Stone 62 at Stonehenge shows that it is a non-spotted dolerite, hence cannot be sourced from a spotted dolerite source such as Carn Goedog.

Whether a Preseli dolerite is spotted is a field observation. The white spots have been used as a discriminant since Thomas. Spotting can be uneven within a sill, so a sparsely spotted face is not automatically a different magma. That uncertainty cuts against ranking Carn Goedog first for an unspotted pillar on chemistry alone, but it does not put Carn Goedog back in contention for Stone 62: the Garn Ddu Fach attribution rests on a direct chemical and thin-section match to the stone, not on an assumption that Carn Goedog is spotted throughout.

Ciborowski and Nash state that they did not assign a source. They ranked a worked example. That is how the paper is framed. The core ranking still places Carn Goedog first for an unspotted pillar. If the method is used as a provenance tool, that ranking needs to be read against the petrography, which is the limit they state in general.

Source

Stone 62’s published source remains Garn Ddu Fach (Pearce et al. 2022). Ciborowski and Nash did not overturn that, and they say they were not trying to. On the in situ data their method already agreed with Garn Ddu Fach. The core ranking is the result that sits at odds with the spotting. Pearce et al. (2026) treat that as a methods point: similarity calculated from the geochemistry should not be taken in isolation from the petrography.

The arithmetic method can still be a useful ranking tool if it is used alongside those observations rather than instead of them.

References

  • Bevins, R. E., Ixer, R. A. and Pearce, N. J. G. 2014. “Carn Goedog is the likely major source of Stonehenge doleritic bluestones: evidence based on compatible element geochemistry and Principal Component Analysis.” Journal of Archaeological Science 42: 179–193.
  • Ciborowski, T. J. R. and Nash, D. J. 2026. “Defining similarity: An arithmetic method for archaeological source provenance targeting using geochemical data.” Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports 69: 105513. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jasrep.2025.105513
  • Ciborowski, T. J. R. and Nash, D. J. 2026. “Arithmetic methods for exploring archaeological source provenance using geochemistry – A reply to Pearce et al.” Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports 75: 106012. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jasrep.2026.106012
  • Pearce, N. J. G., Bevins, R. E. and Ixer, R. A. 2022. “Portable XRF investigation of Stonehenge Stone 62 and potential source dolerite outcrops in the Mynydd Preseli, west Wales.” Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports 44: 103525. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jasrep.2022.103525
  • Pearce, N. J. G., Bevins, R. E., Ixer, R. A. and Pirrie, D. 2026. “Arithmetic approaches alone are inadequate in defining similarity: A comment on Ciborowski and Nash 2026.” Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports: 105874. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jasrep.2026.105874