Journal articles on the topic 'Århus (Denmark)'

Influent and effluent data from about 120 small wastewater treatment plants (100 - 2000 PE) have been collected and processed. Seven different types of plants are represented. The effluent quality and the treatment efficiency have been evaluated. The most common type of plant is mechanical/biological treatment plants. Some of them are nitrifying and some are also extended for chemical precipitation of phosphorus. Constructed wetlands and biological sandfilters are also represented among the small wastewater treatment plants.

Gotzsche LBH, Ørskov H. Cardiac triiodothyronine nuclear receptor binding capacities in amiodaronetreated, hypo- and hyperthyroid rats. Eur J Endocrinol 1994;130:281–90. ISSN 0804–4643 Parameters that are assumed to be under direct control by thyroid hormonal state were evaluated in amiodarone-treated, hypo- and hyperthyroid rats. Special attention was paid to evaluating similarities between hypothyroid and amiodarone-treated rats, with special focus on myocardial nuclear triiodothyronine (T3) receptor binding characteristics. Rats were rendered hypothyroid by adding KCIO4 to the drinking water for 6 weeks (N = 14). Hyperthyroidism was induced by adding 0.003% l-thyroxine to the drinking water for 6 weeks (N = 14). Fourteen rats were treated orally for 6 weeks with amiodarone, whereas 14 rats served as untreated controls. Equilibrium binding characteristics for T3 nuclear receptors were determined by means of a simple and rapid method with excellent reproducibility and sensitivity. Body temperature and heart rate were lowered in hypothyroid and amiodarone-treated rats. Maximum binding capacities ofβ-adrenergic receptors were reduced by 39% and 14% (p < 0.05) in hypothyroid and amiodarone-treated rats, respectively, and increased by 28% (p < 0.05) in hyperthyroid rats. Maximum binding capacities for voltage-operated Ca2+ channels were increased by 35% and 16% in hypothyroid and amiodarone-treated rats (p < 0.05), respectively, and decreased by 24% in hyperthyroid rats (p < 0.05). Maximum binding capacities for T3 receptors (expressed per unit of DNA) were reduced by 39% and 32% in hypothyroid and amiodarone-treated rats (p < 0.05), respectively, and increased by 63% in hyperthyroid rats (p < 0.05). In hypothyroid and amiodarone-treated rats, myocardial T3 content was extremely reduced (less than 0.05 nmol/kg and 0.06 ± 0.08 nmol/kg, respectively, compared with control levels of 1.55 ± 0.46 nmol/kg). In vitro competition studies of amiodarone and its desethylanalogue revealed that both drugs are potentially capable of displacing T3 from its nuclear receptor at concentrations close to what are considered therapeutic drug levels. Myocardial nuclear T3 receptor maximum binding capacities decreased to a similar degree in hypothyroid and amiodarone-treated rats and increased in hyperthyroid rats. Several other similarities between hypothyroid and amiodarone-treated rats suggest that amiodarone may act by inducing a state of thyroid hormonal resistance. Liv Bjørn-Hansen Gøtzsche, Medical Department (Diabetes and Endocrinology), Århus Kommunehospital, University Hospital of Århus, DK-8000 Århus C, Denmark

Gøtzsche LB-H. l-Triiodothyronine acutely increases Ca2+ uptake in the isolated, perfused rat heart. Changes in l-type Ca2+ channels and β-receptors during short- and long-term hyper- and hypothyroidism. Eur J Endocrinol 1994;130:171–9. ISSN 0804–4643 Acutely administered triiodothyronine (T3) in supraphysiological doses has been shown to exert an acute positive inotropic effect in vivo a few minutes after intravenous administration. To investigate whether this effect could be explained by an acutely increased Ca2+ uptake in the myocardium, an isolated perfused rat heart model ad modum Langendorff was established. The acute stimulative effect of T3 on myocardial Ca2+ uptake was determined indirectly by measuring changes in Ca2+ concentration in the perfusate following coronary perfusion with 45Ca2+-containing buffer. Perfusion with T3 gave rise to dose-dependent reductions in perfusate Ca2+ within 20 s. Following 10−9 and 10−11 mol/l T3, the effect was small and usually lasted less than 1 min. Perfusion with 10−6 and 10−7 mmol/l T3 resulted in a decrease in perfusate Ca2+, which remained stable throughout 4–6 min of observation. Calcium channel blockade with nifedipine prevented the decrease in perfusate Ca2 +, suggesting that voltage-operated Ca2+ channels are involved in the increased Ca2 + uptake. A washout period with T3-free buffer re-established the Ca2+ concentration in the perfusate, suggesting that the effect is reversible. Calcium channels have been suggested to be regulated directly by T3. Maximum binding capacities for myocardial Ca2+ channels and β-receptors were determined by binding studies with [3H]PN200-110 and [125I]iodocyanopindolol in short-term and long-term hyper- and hypothyroid rats. After 2 and 8 weeks, Ca2+-channel maximum binding capacities were reduced by 25% and 23% in hyperthyroid rats (p<0.05) and increased by 33% and 23% in hypothyroid rats (p<0.05). β-Receptor binding capacities were increased by 33% and 50% in hyperthyroid rats (p<0.05) and reduced by 28% and 47% (p<0.05) in hypothyroid rats. The reduced Ca2+-channel maximum binding capacity during chronic hyperthyroidism is hypothesized to be a secondary event to a T3-induced increase in myocardial Ca2+ uptake in hyperthyroid rats, serving a protective role against Ca2+ overloading of the cell. The acute increase in Ca2+ uptake following T3 administration may explain the reported acute inotropic effect of T3. Liv Bjørn-Hansen Gøtzsche, Medical Department (Diabetes and Endocrinology), Århus Kommunehospital, University Hospital of Århus, DK-8000 Århus C, Denmark

Prehistoric dendrochronology in DenmarkSince dendrochronological work began in Denmark around 1970, both the Archaeological Sciences Department at the National Museum in Copenhagen and the Dendrochronological Laboratory at the periodical Skalk near Århus (now WM Dendrochronological Laboratory) have worked independently on the construction of a master chronology for Danish oak trees from prehistoric times. In 2004 a joint effort was launched between the two laboratories. As a result, the master chronology from 109 BC-AD 1980, constructed at the National Museum, has been extended back in time to 352 BC, although the oldest part still needs futher consolidation. Furthermore, three mean curves, dated with the help of a German master chronology, have now been constructed, resulting in a total of 4566 years BC being covered by absolutely dated mean curves (Fig. 4). These curves are separated by gaps totalling 1565 years; the youngest gap of only 50 years (402-353 BC) will hopefully soon be closed. In addition to the absolutely dated curves, a number of mean curves, dated by radiocarbon and some covering 4-500 years, have been constructed. As a further consequence, a large number of archaeological objects and sites have now been dated.Kjeld ChristensenWM Trædateringslaboratoriet / WM Dendrochronological Laboratory

Emma Bentz: I stadens skugga. Den medeltida landsbygden som arkeologiskt forskningsfält(Mette Svart KristiansenLine Bjerg: Romerske Denarfund fra Jyske Jernalderbopladser – En Arkæologisk Kulegravning(Thomas Grane)Helen Clarke & Kristina Lamm (red.): Excavations at Helgö XVII(Margrethe Watt)Walter Dörfler & Johannes Müller (red.): Umwelt – Wirtschaft – Siedlungen im dritten vorchristlichen Jahrtausend Mitteleuropas und Südskandinaviens. Internationale Tagung Kiel 4.-6. November 2005(John Simonsen)Peter Gammeltoft, Søren Sindbæk & Jens Vellev (red.): Regionalitet i Danmark i vikingetid og middelalder. Tværfagligt symposium på Aarhus Universitet 26. januar 2007(Karl-Erik Frandsen)Annika Larsson: Klädd Krigare. Skifte i skandinaviskt dräktskick kring år 1000(Ulla Mannering)Henriette Lyngstrøm: Dansk Jern: en kulturhistorisk analyse af fremstilling, fordeling og forbrug(Jørgen A. Jacobsen)Søren Olsen: Udflugt til fortiden. Guide til 80 gådefulde fortidsminder i Danmark(Palle Eriksen)Ditlev L. Mahler: Sæteren ved Argisbrekka. Økonomiske forandringer på Færøerne i vikingetid og tidlig middelalder(Hans Skov) Peter Rowley-Conwy: From Genesis to Prehistory. The Archaeological Three Age System and its contested reception in Denmark, Britain, and Ireland(Anne Katrine Gjerløff)Henrik Skousen: Arkæologi i lange baner. Undersøgelser forud for anlæggelsen af motorvejennord om Århus 1998-2007(Lotte Hedeager)Dagfinn Skre (red.): Means of Exchange. Dealing with Silver in the Viking Age(Jens Christian Moesgaard)David M. Wilson: The Vikings in the Isle of Man(Ray Moore)

Tile production in the Danish Middle Ages and RenaissanceEveryday life in the Renaissance and Early Modern times has long been a neglected area in archaeology and much evidence has been lost. When the Department of Medieval Archaeology at the University of Aarhus, Moesgård added Renaissance Studies to the teaching curriculum in 2005, this provided an opportunity, together with new Danish museum legislation, to redress this situation.In the Renaissance, fundamental changes took place in housing, due in part to the introduction of the tile stove as a “bilægger”, i.e. a stove fed from an adjacent room. This provided an opportunity for the creation of a private, comfortable living room. In rural areas, however, the tile stove was also seen in direct association with a bread oven or as a smoke oven. Among the upper echelons of society – royalty, the Church and the aristocracy, with their strong links to European culture south of the Baltic – the tile stove became known as early as the 13th century. The earliest evidence of this is from the Cistercian Monastery at Sorø. Here, sherds have been found ofhandmoulded deep beaker-shaped vessel tiles. The outer surfaces of these were decorated with wavy lines and encircling grooves, as seen on typical 13th century Baltic-ware pottery from Zealand (fig. 1). When built into an oven, the decoration would not have been visible (fig. 2). From the episcopal/royal castles of Søborg and Gurre there are thrown, glazed beaker-shaped vessel tiles from the 14th century (fig. 3). The handmade, unglazed vessel tiles with a square rim from the royal castle ofVordingborg are broader and shallower (fig. 4); on some the base is rounded. Similar tiles were manufactured as late as the 19th century as “jydepotter”, i.e. black pots from Jutland (fig. 5). In the houses of wealthier citizens, such as Kragsnap’s House in Nykøbing Falster and Branda Huset in Helsingborg in Scania, there were stoves constructed of Late Gothic deep vessel tiles with specially formed openings (fig. 6). At the beginning of the 16th century, these developed into a green glazed, relatively shallow turned vessel tile with a reinforced rim, often with a flower or several concentric circles at the base. This type continued up into the 17th century (fig. 7). In terms of the skill needed in their firing and glazing, all these various vessel tiles were consistent with the abilities of a local potter and they are probably all of domestic origin, modelled on foreign examples.From Late Medieval times, there are imported concave panel and niche tiles, such as Den grønne sten fra Nielstrup and archaeological examples from Vridsløsemagle, Ribe and Gurre. Most of them carry a religious, Catholic message. However, two fragments of matrixes for concave panel tiles, dated to around 1500 and found in Aalborg, bear witness to an early production of moulded stove tiles in Denmark (fig. 8).With the Reformation, relations to Protestant Germany via Kings Christian III and Frederik II were strengthened. Danish students in Wittenberg and Greifswald and itinerant German craftsmen brought with them new furnishing traditions to Denmark. The tile stove became commonplace. The heyday of these stoves began around 1550 when domestic production became profitable. German potters settled in Denmark, bringing with them their moulds and their expertise, also as stove fitters. Production began of concave, quadrangular and rectangular panel tiles bearing images with a religious or political message. On the reverse they had a rumpe, a shallow funnel-shaped protrusion, which had an important function when fitting the tiles to form the stove.From around 1600, the tile stove was gradually replaced by the iron stove, although the latter did retain for some time an upper tower-like section clad in rectangular tiles. Initially, iron stoves were imported from Germany, but with the introduction of a Danish protectionist policy in the 1640s, production was started in Norway.Despite local production in the 16th century, imports of stove tiles and matrixes increased. Sometimes the origin of these can be determined on the basis of the ware; greyish-white Halle clay, for example, indicating Central Germany. Some polychrome stove tiles can be identified as imports from the Upper Weser area. No workshops producing polychrome stove tiles have been demonstrated in Denmark. Even though a workshop in Næstved was familiar with tin glaze and metallic-oxide colours, only polychrome floor tiles were produced there.Often the date of the stove tiles, or more correctly of the patrixes, can be determined on the basis of the motif and the graphic source on which it is modelled.For instance, the patrix for a matrix found in Copenhagen bearing the picture of HERSI HANS must have been carved after 1547, when he lost his title as Elector of Saxony, and prior to his death in 1554. On a stove tile modelled on a medal struck on his appointment in 1532 and attributed to Matthes Gebel, he is referred to as Johann Friedrich Kurfürst. Patrixes, and probably also most matrixes, were imported, but the origin of a patrix for the Fortuna stove tile from Næstved from 1585, attributed to Abel Schroder the Elder, is perhaps open to discussion (fig. 9). A patrix for a medallion tile from about 1550-80 from Århus (fig. 15), and patrix frames and a mould for patrix frames for arcade tiles from about 1600 from Flensburg (fig. 19), are the only definite indications we have oflocal production. Re-working of newly-made matrixes, pirate copies and potters’ botching also occurred (figs. 16, 17 and 21). On the basis of this, and inspired by Der Hafner from Jost Ammen’s Ständebuch (fig. 12), the author has experimented with the production of matrixes and stove tiles (figs. 10 and 11). Accounts are then given of seven localities where traces of stove-tile production have been found. Potters’ kilns have been excavated in Lund and Aalborg, (figs. 13 and 14). In Århus, there were layers containing rejects, kiln shelves and matrixes (fig. 15). In Næstved, deposits have been excavated containing rejects which include tiles bearing Fortuna and the West Zealand version of Judith (figs. 18.4 and 16). Clay pits backfilled with rejects from the workshop have also been discovered there. In Slagelse, an area has been excavated containing workshop refuse in the form of old or broken matrixes, reject stove tiles, kiln shelves and tools (figs. l7 and 18). In Flensburg, a potter’s workshop was excavated, revealing a great number of tiles, a few patrix frames and more than 90 matrixes, of which several are clear evidence of potters’ botching (figs. 19, 20 and 21). Impressions of matrixes from this workshop were used by the bell-caster Michel Bibler as ornamentation on bronze fonts for churches in Flensburg and Eckernförde (fig. 22). In Holbæk, layers containing rejects and matrixes from a potter’s workshop in the neighbourhood have been located. A rectangular stowe tile from 1611, showing the upper body of a lute-playing prince, was produced in a matrix trixwith a two-piece picture area. The upper part of this was used for a stove tile in Slagelse, but in a different frame (fig. 18.6). All the workshops investigated proved to belong to the second half of the 16th century, with the main weight of activity around 1600. From Køge, however, there are matrixes bearing the inscription 1662MB on the reverse. These indicate an active workshop there in the late 17th century, (fig. 23). Several of the workshops were located in association with a demolished ecclesiastical institution where the immediate area had apparently been assigned to workshops carrying out hazardous activities using fire, such as potteries and bell-casters. Finally, research results obtained over several years are presented and there is a discussion of the possibility of more detailed examination and recording to demonstrate the regionality of the individual stove-tile types and perhaps locate individual workshops. More recent scientific methods for the identification of clay types might make it possible to determine their provenance, which would be of crucial importance. Formal collaboration with countries south of and around the Baltic would probably be able to demonstrate trade routes and cultural links and the origin and distribution of stove tiles and matrixes. Closer collaboration between scientists, historians and archaeologists is strongly recommended.Ole KristiansenSlagelse

Søren H. Andersen reaches 60Søren H. Andersen has always been full of go, whether he was lecturing the students, working in the field, or crossing the museum. yard. It is the research of the early Stone Age that has benefited from his g reat energy and effort, which also made him the most frequent contributor of articles to this yearbook.Since his first article in Kum 1965, Norslund. A coastal settlement from the early Iron Age, written together with C. Malmros, he has given us more than fifty scholaly articles in both a Danish and international contexts. As a guest professor and guest lecturer at universities all over the world, Søren Andersen has been invited to share his research and comprehensive knowledge of the longest prehistoric period in Denmark with students and colleagues.The early Stone Age was revived, clarified, and differentiated through Søren Andersen’s almost forty years of work, as it clearly emerges from the new edition of Sesam’s Danmarkshistorie, volume 1, about the early Stone Age, in which he gathers the threads. Localities such as Norsminde, Brovst, Ringkloster, and Tybrind Vig are som e of Søren Andersen’s large-scale investigations, which have already become early Stone Age research classics.A cohort of students has been trained in archaeology by Søren through his engaged lectures and as participants in some of his numerous excavations throughout the country. With great generosity he invited archaeology students to have their first field archaeology experiences on his excavations, which were always characterized by high spirit s and a firm work discipline.In the book Århus Arkæologi, which was published a couple of years ago, Søren Andersen writes that as a boy, he had only two things in his head: “either to become an airforce pilot, or to study archaeology”. It was a major gain to Danish archaeology that he chose the latter. Today he is leading The National Museums Centre for Maritime Archaeology in Roskilde, and is also there search chief at the National Museum – both jobs that demands a full-time commitment – and among other things a member of the Danish Research Council for the Humanities. However, he keeps up the speed and still finds time to visit Moesgård, preferably on Monday mornings on the way from his home in Skanderborg to his jobs on Zealand. Moesgård was his place of work from 1967. The first couple of years he was employed as a museum keeper. He was then attached as an assistant lecturer and later as a lecturer at the University of Aarhus until 1997, when he took up his office as a senior researcher at the Centre for Maritime Archaeology.From the beginning, Søren Andersen made his influence felt on the development at Moesgård, on the university part as well as the museum. Not only archaeology students, but also the public enjoyed his teaching abilities, as he was the driving force behind the museum’s exhibition on the early Danish Stone Age. His cooperation with amateur archaeologists across the country is legendary, and the Open University has enjoyed his fiery soul and narrative skills.In spite of the many work burdens, Søren is always read y to lend a hand – writing the preface of an exhibition catalogue or discus­sing future exhibition plans – and he is still an active member of the board of Jutland Ar­chaeological Society.Jan Skamby MadsenMoesgård MuseumTranslated by Annette Lerche Trolle

The Historical Museum in ÅrhusThe Age of Enlightenment resulted in museums coming into existence all over Europe. Their purpose was to preserve exceptional items for posterity and to promote knowledge associated with these items. The museum idea fused with the national movements current at that time. In Århus a Society of History and Antiquities was formed in 1861. The purpose of the society was to promote knowledge of antiquities by creating a collection, and to inform the public about the past through presentations and lectures. The society was led by an honorary committee which was in charge of the scholarly work. The collection was housed in the town hall (fig. 3).Over the years, the museum experienced fluctuations in its development as different people influenced its work. In the beginning, the cause met great support, but public interest was lost during the war with Germany in 1864, and interest was not re-established until later. The greatest scholarly authority of the museum, Edvard Erslev, left town, and others took over (fig. 2). Around 1870, the museum thrived again under the strong influence of Vilhelm Boye, a former employee of the Old Nordic Museum in Copenhagen, who was able to impart great scholarly expertise to the Århus museum. When he moved away from the town, the museum languished again. Around this time, a large new museum was built. However, most of its space was taken up by the art collection, whereas the historical collection was limited to a box-room-like area in the attic (figs. 5 and 10). Christian Kjær, a lawyer, came to the rescue. Although engaged in many other forms of business, he managed to make a constructive contribution to the running of the museum (fig. 6). He maintained good relations with the Old Nordic Museum – or the National Museum as it had been renamed – and he succeeded in raising a considerable government grant for a planned extension to the museum (fig. 7). At the same time, the society was changed into an independent institution under the supervision of the National Museum. The name was changed into The Historical Department of Århus Museum. The scholarly work now secured higher priority, and the museum began to undertake archaeological excavations on a larger scale. The next persons to represent the museum were Captain Smith (fig. 8) and lawyer Reeh, who were both recognised for their professional skills. By the early 1900s, the museum faced a dilemma: the funds were insufficient for working with anything but prehistory, but interest in recent cultural history had grown, and the need to include this in the museum work was pressing. The result was that P. Holm (fig. 12) left the museum committee to found ´Den Gamle By, Danmarks Købstadsmuseum´ (The Old Town, Denmark’s Municipal Town Museum). In the 1920s the two museums began to cooperate, and the historical museum deposited its collections from the Middle Ages and later times in ‘Den Gamle By’. Now the Historical Department of Århus Museum consisted of a prehistoric collection and a coin collection. Librarian Eiler Haugsted (fig. 13) headed the museum and improved the exhibition of the reduced collections.Everyone agreed that the museum and the university would benefit from closer cooperation. The extensive collection of plaster casts of antique works of art was moved to the university’s Department of Classical Archaeology and became the nucleus of its study collection. This resulted in much better space in the museum building. P. V. Glob was appointed Professor of Prehistoric Archaeology and leader of the museum. The engagement of a permanently employed, skilled leader resulted in marked changes in the museum, which now concentrated on Prehistoric Archaeology and Ethnography and soon achieved a special position within these fields. Within a few years – from being a museum run almost completely by volunteers – the museum had developed into a big institution with a large, professional staff. Jens SkriverMoesgård MuseumTranslated by Annette Lerche Trolle

The Danes and the Origin of the Danish KingdomOn the Research Programme “From Tribe to State in Denmark”Since the 1970’s, the ethnogenesis of the Danes and the origin of the Danish kingdom have attracted increased interest among Danish archaeologists. Marked changes over time observed in a growing source material form a new basis of interpretation. In written sources, the Danish realm does not appear until the Viking Age. The formation of the kingdom is traditionally placed as late as the 10th century (Jelling and all that). But prehistorians have raised the question whether the formation of the kingdom was not a much longer course. Some scholars believe that we have to study the periods preceding the Viking Age to be able to understand the development, at least from the 3rd century. In Scandinavia, this covers the Late Roman Iron Age, the Migration and Merovingian periods, as well as the early Viking Age. In a Continental perspective, it parallels the Late Antiquity (3rd-6th centuries) and the Early Middle Ages (6th-10th centuries).In 1984, the Danish Research Council launched the research programme “From Tribe to State in Denmark” which aimed to understand the formation of the Danish kingdom by studying the interaction between economic, social, and political circumstances from the Roman Period to the Viking Age. This paper presents a short synthesis of my work in the programme.Two themes have been brought into focus:1) The ethnogenesis of the Nordic peoples: the formation of the tribes that appear in the few and problematic written sources of the first millennium AD, in casu the Danes;2) The making of the Nordic kingdoms: in this case Denmark.A problem with this kind of long-term research is the inherent teleological perspective, revealed in the programme title. It is essential for me to emphasise that the early Danish kingdom was not a self-evident formation but the result of a series of concrete historical circumstances. There have been alternative possibilities at several occasions.In Scandinavia, the period is prehistoric. However, in South Scandinavia it deserves to be labelled protohistoric. Scandinavian archaeologists often forget or ignore the fact that in large parts of Europe, the first millennium AD is a historical period. The Scandinavian development is too often evaluated in isolation from the rest of Europe, in spite of the fact that the material culture demonstrates that interaction with continental as well as insular powers was continuously influencing Scandinavia. Necessarily, a relevant approach to Scandinavian late prehistory includes a historical dimension and a European perspective. South Scandinavian societies were over time linked to different realms in Europe. The Danish development was certainly part of a common west European trajectory.The best possibility of interpreting the archaeological record of South Scandinavia is by analogy with historians’ interpretations of other more or less contemporary Germanic peoples, based on descriptions in the written sources. Long-term studies of Scandinavian societies in the first millennium AD has laid new ground on which scholars have to build their image of the making of a Danish kingdom. The paper briefly describes some of the results and focuses on changes in the material that I find significant.Rural settlement: Great progress in the study of Iron Age and Early Mediaeval farming suggests economic growth, a development from subsistence economy to a production of a surplus, from collective forms of farming to individually run farmsteads, from small family farmsteads to large farms and manors. It is the surplus created by this expansion that could carry the late Viking and high medieval Danish kingdom with its administration, military power, church, towns, etc.Trade and exchange: Prestige-goods exchange dominated in the beginning of the period. Goods came from various parts of Europe. The connections to central and east Europe were broken in the sixth century, not to be reopened until the Viking Age. This explains the dominating position held by West European material culture in the development of South Scandinavia. Thus, South Scandinavia became part of the commercial zone of West Europe, certainly an important element in the making of the Danish kingdom. In the Viking Age, the rapid urbanisation demonstrates that Denmark gained great profit from its key position in the North Sea-Baltic trade network.Central places and early towns: Complex settlements appeared already in the Late Roman Iron Age, e.g. Gudme/Lundeborg, Funen. Further central sites appeared, and the number of central places grew rapidly. By the year 700, they are found in virtually every settlement area of South Scandinavia. The sites were not simple trading stations, as most were labelled a few years ago, but many also fulfilled important political, social, and religious functions; some were also manorial residences. The resident elite based their power on the mobilisation of the rural surplus; at the same time, one can say that the stimulus to produce a rural surplus was probably caused by an increasing demand from the elite at the centres.In the Viking Age, urbanisation began, which meant that the old central places lost their position and were replaced by towns like Hedeby, Ribe, and Århus. Excavations show that urbanisation started in the 8th century, a little later than the famous emporia Quentovic, Dorestad, Hamwic, and Ipswic.So today, it must be concluded that at the threshold to the Viking Age, South Scandinavian societies had a more advanced economic system and a more complex social organisation than believed only 20 years ago.Warfare: The dated indications of war cluster in two periods, the 3rd to 5th centuries, and the 10th to 11th centuries. The early period could be characterised as one of tribal warfare, in which many polities were forced to join larger confederations through the pressure of endemic warfare and conquests. In the archaeological record, indicators of war seem to disappear after AD 500, not to reappear in large numbers until the Viking Age. Was this period a Pax Danorum? Indeed, the silent archaeological record could indicate that the Danes had won hegemony in South Scandinavia. This phase can be understood as a period of consolidation between an early phase of tribal warfare and a later phase in which the territorial defence of a Danish kingdom becomes visible in the record.Wars with the Carolingian empire in the 9th century are the first wars in Denmark to be mentioned in the written record. However, archaeology demonstrates the presence of serious military threats in the centuries before, e.g. the first dykes at Danevirke. The strategic localisation of the period’s defence works reveals that threats were met with both navy and army. According to the texts, the 9th century wars are clearly national wars, either wars of conquest on a large scale between kingdoms, or civil wars, which for a large part seem to be triggered by an aggressive Frankish diplomacy.The two phases of warfare mirror two different military political situations: in the Late Roman and Migration Periods they are tribal wars and conflicts over resource control; in the Late Merovingian Period and the Viking Age they concern a Danish kingdom’s territorial defence.Religious changes: The conversion is often considered a major turning point in Scandinavian history; and in a way it was, of course. But the importance of Christianisation is heavily overestimated. The conversion was simply a step in a process that started long before. The paganism of the Scandinavians must not mislead us into believing that they were barbarians.A great change in cult practice took place around AD 500 when the use of bogs and lakes for offerings rapidly decreased. Instead, religious objects are found hoarded in settlement contexts, sometimes in the great halls of the magnates. This indicates that the elite had taken control of religion in a new way. The close link between cult and elite continued uninterrupted after Christianisation; churches were built by the magnates and on their ground. Therefore, we have a kind of cult-site continuity. From the Migration Period, the archaeological material demonstrates a close link between cult and magnates. This is certainly one important element in the formation of a Danish kingdom.Political development: Analyses of material culture reveal that South Scandinavia in the Early Iron Age consisted of many small regions, and based on sources like Tacitus and Ptolemy, one can guess that they correspond to tribal areas. In the Late Roman Iron Age and the Migration Period, the formation of a South Scandinavian super-region can be discerned, but still subdivided into a small number of distinguishable culture zones, and, again, on the basis of written sources (Jordanes and Procopius), one can guess that small tribes had joined into larger confederations precisely as on the Continent. In my opinion, a Danish kingdom appeared not later than the sixth century. Based on the well-studied material culture of the early Merovingian Period, one can assume that it had its core area in Central Denmark - South Jutland, Funen, and Zealand – with a close periphery of North Jutland, South Halland, Scania, Blekinge, and Bornholm. Probably more loosely attached to the Danish hegemony was a more distant periphery in South Sweden.So the Danish kingdom already had a history when it first appeared in the Frankish sources at the end of the 8th century. Danish involvement in European politics is first clearly observable in 777 and again in 782. Obviously, the Danish kingdom was a political and military actor on the North European scene long before the Viking Age.In the light of all these arguments, three phases can be described:– Roman Iron Age: Tribal societies with chieftains or small kings.– Late Roman Iron Age, Migration Period, and early Merovingian Period: A process of amalgamation started and warfare characterises the period. The result is the formation of tribal confederations. Written sources speak in favour of the Danes as the people who eventually won hegemony over South Scandinavia.– Late Merovingian Period and Viking Age: A process began in which royal agents replaced local chieftains. The last area to be integrated under direct Danish royal rule, in the reign of Sven Forkbeard, was probably Scania. Thus Medieval Denmark appeared.Final remarks: As a result of archaeological achievements in the last decades, a number of traditional views about Scandinavian late prehistory appear less likely, or rather erroneous. It is an underestimation that the pagans were unable of organisation and that a formation of a Danish kingdom is unthinkable before the late Viking Age. Unfortunately, the ethnogenesis of the Danes is beyond the reach of study, but a rough hypothesis may be formulated. The Danes were once one of several tribes somewhere in South Scandinavia. Events outside the Scandinavian scene were of fundamental importance for the possibility of the Danish gens to grow in power in the Late Roman and Migration Periods. Already before the Merovingian Period, the Danes won hegemony between the Baltic and the North Sea. A Danish kingdom could probably be based on this key position. Its survival was by no means a matter of course. In their continued efforts to secure the Danish position, capable kings established the borders of high medieval Denmark in the course of the Viking Age.Ulf NäsmanInstitutionen för humaniora och ­samhällsvetenskap Högskolan i Kalmar

The Voldbæk cemeteryThe Late Iron Age, Viking and High Medieval periods by Brabrand SøThe Viking period cemetery at Voldbæk in Brabrand, about 6 km west of Århus, was investigated by Aarhus Museum in the period 1926-36, and the results of these investigations were published in 1936 in ­Johannes Brøndsted’s overview of Viking Age inhumation graves in Denmark. This site will be subjected here to a re-analysis on the basis of archival material from Aarhus Museum.The cemetery was discovered in 1926, during gravel extraction a short distance to the west of Brabrand. Up until 1931, 23 graves were examined as they appeared (fig. 1). It is these graves which were published by J. Brøndsted in 1936. The cemetery lay on a slope running down to the north shore of Brabrand Sø (Lake) (fig. 2). Across the cemetery as a whole, it is stated that the predominant orientation of the graves was east-west, and that the deceased were most commonly placed with their head to the west. The skeletons, of which some were well-preserved, lay most often in a supine position. Some were, however, laid in hocker position. No traces of coffins were found. Some graves were covered with large stones. Many of them were found to contain a single, worn iron knife and a whetstone, most commonly placed at the hip. Occasional graves contained richer and more diverse equipment. In addition to this general account, there is also a meticulous description of the graves, supplemented by numerous photographs and drawings that have not previously been made public. Collectively, this information forms the basis for the following account of the cemetery where reference is made to the revised site plan (fig. 3). In total, 26 graves were examined at the Voldbæk cemetery (figs. 12-43), but the actual number of graves was greater. In connection with graves 3 and 26, mention is made of remains of child graves, and close to grave 24 there was a further grave which was apparently not investigated. This brings the total up to 29 graves. Further to these, skeletons had been found prior to the museum being contacted. The cemetery was therefore at least 1/3 greater than the 23 graves presented by Brøndsted.The skeletal material from the Voldbæk cemetery was not retained, but on the basis of descriptions of the individual graves, together with the photos, a certain amount of information can be obtained concerning those interred. In connection with the accounts of the individual skeletons there is, repeatedly, an evaluation of sex and age (young or old) as well as a statement of height. The basis for this information is unknown – only in two cases (graves 20 and 26) is it mentioned that a doctor was present at their excavation. In five cases (graves 2, 8, 9, 13 and 24), the deceased is identified as being a man, whereas three graves (graves 3, 7 and 20) are said to be those of women. For three of the skeletons said to be men, their height is given, respectively, as 1.72 m (grave 2), 1.80 m (grave 8) and 1.73 m (grave 24). For one of the skeletons said to be a woman, her height is given as 1.55 m (grave 20). Grave 19 (height 1.40 m) should probably be assigned to the women’s graves as research in recent times has revealed that Thor’s hammers occur primarily in female graves. Even though the information should be taken with some reservation, it is apparent that the skeletons considered to be those of men are taller than those considered to be of women. This is consistent with the most recent investigations of Danish finds of skeletons from the Viking Age where the average height for men is given as 1.71 m, while that for women is 1.58 m. The information given on the dental state of the deceased is significant as it can be considered to be based on very reliable observations, in some cases confirmed by photographs. In six of the skeletons (graves 2, 3, 9, 20, 22 and 23), extensive tooth loss has been recorded as well as overgrown tooth alveoli. Conversely, in six other instances (graves 8, 13, 18, 19, 21 and 25) mention is made of a complete set of teeth which is, in several cases, described as “beautiful”. In a single case (grave 21), heavy tooth wear is mentioned. A nationwide investigation of skeletal material from the Viking period has shown that poor dental health with more or less expressed tooth loss was common. The toothlessness seen in some of the skeletons from the Voldbæk cemetery is therefore not remarkable.With regard to the dating of the Voldbæk cemetery, Brøndsted mentions a disc brooch in grave 3 as the only date-conferring find. This ornament in Jelling style is assigned by him to the end of the 10th century. More recent research, however, dates the Jelling style to most of the 10th century, with its beginning just prior to AD 900. This type of disc brooch also occurs in a coin-dated grave from Birka, with the latest coin being from AD 951-54. This date also corresponds to that of the Voldbæk cemetery’s grave 19, containing the Thor’s hammer. This amulet type is found primarily in graves from the 10th century. In addition to the above-mentioned examples from Birka and Brabrand, disc brooches of this kind have also been found at Haithabu and the Viking period cemetery at Stengade II on Langeland. Brøndsted believes that graves 21-23, with the deceased laid in hocker position, might be older than the Viking period. Two stray finds from the area are perhaps able to support this presumption. These comprise two fibulas from the 7th century (fig. 4). They were found immediately east of the Viking period cemetery, and they could belong to an earlier phase of the cemetery.The Voldbæk cemetery was probably sited in the vicinity of a settlement. If it does contain graves from both the Late Iron Age and the Viking period, as presumed, then there are a couple of settlement sites near Brabrand which could be of relevance (fig. 5). In 2005, two settlement pits from the Late Iron Age were discovered immediately NE of Brabrand Sø. One of them contained pottery (fig. 6) and a complete rotary quern (fig. 7). The other pit lay a few metres away and is interpreted as a well. The two pits undoubtedly reflect the presence of a settlement at this location and this settlement can, on the basis of the pottery, be assigned to the late 6th century. The distance from the Voldbæk cemetery is c. 3 km. This considerable distance, and the dating of the settlement, makes it seem unlikely that there was a direct link between cemetery and settlement. The settlement finds do demonstrate, however, that in the area immediately north of Brabrand Sø there was habitation during the Late Iron Age, and a later phase of this settlement perhaps lies closer to the cemetery.With respect to settlement traces that can be linked to the Viking period graves, the situation is very interesting. In connection with construction work in Brabrand in 1981, a large pit was partially uncovered. In this were found potsherds (fig. 8), a horse tooth and two small fragments of rib bones – probably of pig or sheep. The pottery dates the find to the Viking period. It could represent a refuse pit or a pit-house. Regardless of how the pit should be interpreted it reflects the presence of a Viking period settlement c. 500 m east of the Voldbæk cemetery (fig. 2). A distance of this order between the settlement and cemetery appears very likely if a comparison is made with the results of Moesgård Museum’s investigations at Randlev, SE of Odder. Here, a Viking period settlement and its cemetery were excavated in full and the settlement lies a few hundred metres from the cemetery. The settlement comprises a single farmstead dated to the 9th-10th century, and the associated cemetery contains rather more than 100 graves. Seen against this background, the Voldbæk cemetery, with its c. 30 burials, must undoubtedly also represent a single farmstead and it must have existed at least until the Late Viking period, 10th century. The sparsely equipped graves say nothing of the status of this farmstead. The cemetery at Rand­lev was generally very sparsely equipped, and here the settlement itself demonstrated a surprising richness in metal.The finds described above show that, perhaps in the Late Iron Age, and certainly in the Late Viking period, there was a settlement in the area lying immediately to the west of the village of Brabrand. The site’s possible relationship to the continuing settlement history in the area is interesting. Here, attention falls quite naturally on “Hovgaard” which lies detached directly on the north shore of Brabrand Sø, 300 m SW of the village and c. 450 m east of the Voldbæk cemetery (fig. 9). Historians have demonstrated that Hovgaard represents the remains of a village manor or home farm which belonged to a noble family in the Middle Ages. Excavations at Hovgaard in 1966 revealed foundations of granite boulders which, on the basis of pottery finds, can be dated to the 13th-14th century (fig. 10). The extent to which the site’s history extends further back in time cannot be determined on the basis of the excavation results. However, if this is the case, it is conceivable that this isolated farmstead on the north shore of Brabrand Sø is the successor to a farmstead which lay in this area, with its cemetery, in the Late Viking period. If Hovgaard’s special status has its origin in Viking times then it seems obvious to make comparisons with the situation at Lisbjerg, 7 km to the north of Århus. Excavations here have demonstrated that it was the site of the first church construction associated with a large isolated farmstead from the Late the Viking period. If the same were the case in Brabrand, this could explain the remarkably low-lying position of Brabrand Church relative to its village, being sited almost down on the shore of Brabrand Sø (figs. 2 and 11).The new analysis of the Voldbæk cemetery presented here shows that significant information can be added to this site. By involving evidence from settlement traces found around Brabrand, an attempt has been made to put the cemetery into a broader perspective. As a result, it seems likely that the medieval power centre, which historians have demonstrated in the area, could have its origins in the Viking Age. As a consequence, finds from the district become of interest relative to Viking Age Århus as the relationship between the town and its hinterland could have influenced development in both places.Jens JeppesenMoesgård Museum

Medieval Church Barns in DenmarkThe subject of this article is medieval church barns within the area of present-day Denmark. A church barn (or tithe barn) is a building erected near a parish church and used for storing the crops that local peasants paid as tithes or taxes to the church. Constructed as functional buildings for the church, these barns have both a clerical and a secular context. In 1912 M. Mackeprang gave an account of relevant written sources and made a provisional list of barns preserved at that time. In this work the list has been revised to describe the present day situation and it is established that there are 31 church barns preserved today. There are a few additional buildings of which the original function is uncertain that could be added to this list (fig. 1). Since Mackeprang’s article no total account of Danish church barns has been compiled, and relevant information therefore had to be sought from various sources. The most important written sources for medieval and post-medieval times are the letters from the Chancellery (Kancelliets brevbøger) and church laws from the early Protestant period. Although these documents are not medieval, in this article they are used to give a probable picture of the condition of the medieval church barns. Another important source is the notebook that the Funen bishop Jacob Madsen made during his visitation of every parish in his diocese in the late 16th century. The bishop often mentions the condition of church barns and sometime adds some more information. His work is very reliable and gives an idea of the status of the Funen church barns approximately 50 years after the Reformation.All of the preserved barns are situated in the churchyard of the church to which they belong. Some are built at the periphery of the churchyard so that one of the walls forms part of the churchyard wall. Some church barns are free-standing within the churchyard (fig. 2), while a few are built as an extension of the actual church. This is the case of the preserved church barn in Voldum (fig. 3) and also of the now lost barn in Brønshøj. Jacob Madsen’s notes tell us that if the church was situated far from the village the church barn could be placed centrally in the village instead. All of the preserved church barns are made of stone. On Zealand they are mainly built of bricks but on the southern part of the island local limestone is also used to a great extent. (fig. 11). On Funen barns are built with both bricks and granite boulders (fig. 4). The few preserved barns in Jutland have plinths of granite boulders while the walls are built of brick. The fact that church barns are brick-built is surprising because secular barns in medieval Denmark were always wooden constructions. Perhaps many of the lost church barns were timbered or half-timbered buildings. This was certainly the case of some of the Funen barns which Jacob Madsen described. This can also be deduced from a document from the year 1573 in which a special licence was given to tear down all church barns in the Århus diocese that were not brick-built. This suggests that the remaining brick-built church barns may not be representative of the majority of the medieval barns.Judging from the remaining barns and reliable measurements from ruined barns the dimensions of these buildings are typically 14-16 m x 7-9 m. The biggest barn is that in Tranebjerg on the island of Samsø (21.5 m x 9 m) while the barn in Mogenstrup, no longer in existence, was only 8.5 m by 4.23 m. Thus the dimensions of the medieval barns seem to have varied greatly. Some of the existing barns have been reduced (Melby, fig. 10) or expanded (Mesinge, fig. 5) in size. It is difficult to determine what was used for roofing the medieval barns. It is unlikely, however, that a barn with a stepped gable would also have a thatched roof, since such a roof would not fit tight against the gable but would have to overlap the top of it. The decorated gables of some of the barns are described in detail because these decorations can be used to date the barns (figs. 10-12). Caution has to be exercised, however, since these gables have often been restored freely, as for example in Strø (figs. 6 & 7). The church barn in Skårup has also been restored, but the reconstructed form of the gables is based on traces in the brickwork (figs. 8 & 9). In general the decorated gables of church barns seem to adopt local types of decoration that are also used in the churches. An example is the lost church barn in Ejby (fig. 20). It is not known whether church barns have existed in Denmark since the tithe regulations were introduced in the 12th century or if they are solely a late medieval phenomenon. Palle Lauring argues that Finderup Barn, in which King Erik Klipping was killed in 1289, was the village church barn. If this is true this would be the earliest mention of a Danish church barn. In Hjallese, Funen, remains of foundations have been interpreted as a church barn. This building is dated by two coins from the reign of Christoffer II (1320-1326). If this is correct it would be the oldest archaeologically dated church barn in Denmark. All of the preserved church barns are much later. These buildings date from 1450-1550, to judge from the decorated gables. The barn in Øster Egesborg is the only one to have been dendrochronologically dated. The trees used for its rafters were felled in approximately 1485-90. Even though church barns generally seem to be a medieval phenomenon it is apparent from written sources that church barns were also built in the second half of the 16th century and even as late as the beginning of the 17th century. However, in the attempt to make an account of the distribution of church barns in medieval Denmark it is often impossible to differentiate between barns built before 1536 and those built after. All references to church barns that could be found were therefore included for the purposes of the map (fig. 13). The main source of information about lost church barns on Zealand is Danmarks kirker, a series of descriptions of the Danish churches which now covers all of Zealand. Jacob Madsen is the main source for Funen , while information about church barns in Jutland is much more scarce and diffusely spread. The map of Jutland may not at the moment, therefore, give as true a picture of the medieval situation as the maps of Zealand and Funen. It is often claimed that church barns were a phenomenon concentrated in the eastern parts of Denmark (Zealand, Funen and Eastern Jutland) and generally this work supports this assumption. However, there have been church barns even in the northwest part of Jutland. On the other hand only one church barn is mentioned in the sources for the southern part of Jutland. In a church law from 1537 it is said that in every parish peasants should bring their crops to the church barns, but as the above shows there might not have been a church barn in every parish throughout the country. Possible explanations for the relatively few church barns in Jutland will be given later.Church barns also existed in the boroughs (fig. 15). The function of these buildings was to house the crops that came from the town’s fields, which were cultivated by the citizens. Furthermore the churches in the boroughs could function as parish churches for peasants in nearby villages.In theory tithe should be paid on all agricultural products, but in Denmark the crop tithe was by far the most important. In other European countries the tithe was divided into four portions: the vicar’s tithe, the bishop’s tithe, the tithe to keep the church well-maintained and equipped (the so-called fabrica), and finally one fourth of the tithe was given to the poor. In Denmark the tithe was only divided into three portions – leaving nothing to the poor. Even inside the Danish kingdom the practice of tithe varied greatly. A bishop’s tithe was introduced on Zealand, in Scania and in Slesvig in the late 12th century, but in the rest of Jutland and on Funen the bishop was paid a fixed amount of money (the “bishop’s gift”) that would often be much less than a third of the tithe. The dislike of the bishop’s tithe could among other things stem from the fact that this tithe should in theory be transported to the bishop’s town, which could be very far from the village. When the bishop’s tithe was introduced by law on Zealand is it said in the letter of the law that the tithe should only be brought to a place within the parish – probably to ease the acceptance of this new tax. Only in 1443 was the bishop’s tithe introduced in Jutland and on Funen, and it was much disliked. Which of the three parts of the tithe was stored in the church barns? In King Christian III’s church law from 1536 it is mentioned that the tithe should be brought to the church barn and then divided in three. On the other hand it is reasonable to assume that the vicar’s third of the tithe was brought directly to the vicarage, which was situated within the parish. One source indirectly points at this fact. In 1536 it is said that the peasants should be given two barrels of beer on the day they bring the tithe – and it is then added that this beer should not be consumed at the vicarage, as had often happened before. Maybe this is the reason a late 16th century barn beside the vicarage of Nimtofte in Eastern Jutland is called the church barn. So, did the church barns house the bishop’s tithe, the fabrica or both? As a result of the Reformation in 1536 the church’s property was confiscated by the king. The king now became head of the church and the bishop’s tithe was now called the king’s tithe. Apparently in the first years after the Reformation this change was only in name and therefore the practices concerning the king’s tithe in the early Protestant period probably reflect how the bishop’s tithe was handled in the late medieval period. In 1546 it is said in a letter from the Chancellery that the vicar and the churchwarden were responsible for hiring two men to thresh the tithe and then divide it into two parts: the fabrica and the king’s tithe (fig. 17). In a letter from 1542 it is said that the Scanian peasants were to bring one third of the tithe (the king’s tithe) to the church barn. In the Middle Ages the churchwardens were responsible for the fabrica and probably also for the church barns. The church barn in Vedtofte, Funen, was built by the churchwardens in 1554 using the fabrica. Jacob Madsen suggested in 1589 that the church barn in Turup, Funen, could be used as a house for the vicar, but the churchwarden had the final word, which was no. It is thus plausible that the fabrica was stored in the church barns, but of course this crop might also have been brought to the farm of one of the churchwardens who lived in the parish. It is most likely that the bishop’s tithe was stored in the church barn until it could be picked up by the bishop’s men. Some twenty years after the Reformation new rules were introduced that the peasants were to bring the king’s tithe (formerly the bishop’s tithe) to the respective castles and not just to the churchyard as previously. In 1577 a general law for Zealand was made that the peasants should bring the tithe in sheaves to whoever owned it. It was no longer enough to bring it to the churchyard.The conclusion is that the vicar’s tithe was probably brought to the vicarage, the fabrica could be stored in the church barn or at the churchwarden’s house and the bishop’s tithe was most likely always stored in the church barn.A few of the largest church barns may have been drive-through buildings, meaning that wagons entered through a gate in one end of the building, the sheaves were unloaded inside the building, and the wagon left via a gate at the opposite end of the building. The church barn in Kalundborg (fig. 18) and possibly also that in Tranebjerg had this function. In the smaller barns the sheaves were simply carried into the barn (fig. 16) or passed in through a hole in the wall. The interiors of the barns have been radically changed everywhere but some have been archaeologically examined. The church barn in Flemløse had been divided into three rooms, one of which seems to have had a cellar. The finding of charcoal in Skårup church barn suggests that the building was also used for purposes other than storage. In Skårup there were also remains of a hard clay floor that would have been ideal for threshing. Since we know nothing about church barns until the last century of the Middle Ages it has been claimed that originally the church lofts were used to store the crops. When vaults were introduced in many parish churches in late medieval times, leaving no storage room in the lofts, it became necessary to build church barns. This could explain the few church barns in Jutland since many churches in that part of the country never had vaults built on. From post-medieval times we know that in several churches in Southern and Northern Jutland the lofts were used for storing crops. In Egen church a winch used for this purpose still exists and one can suppose that this also reflects the medieval practice (fig. 19). However, this poses the question of where the threshing would then have taken place, because it seems that the tithe was normally handed over in sheaves and not in the form of grain. Furthermore there does not seem to be a clear connection between vaults and church barns. All of the vault-less churches mentioned by Jacob Madsen also had church barns. Probably the church barns must be considered as part of the massive construction works that were undertaken in connection with the Danish churches in the last 150 years of the Middle Ages. Vaults, towers, porches, etc. were built. This building activity was most intensive in the eastern part of the country, while the western part of Jutland tended to follow at a much slower pace, and in the year 1536 the Reformation put an abrupt end to it all. Another reason for the lack of church barns in many parts of Jutland could be that they were wooden constructions. Most of the church barns we know about are mentioned in the sources when they are torn down and the bricks or boulders sold. Wooden constructions are less valuable in this sense and might be underrepresented in the written sources for this reason.Immediately after the Reformation the use of the church barns probably did not change dramatically. But in the late 16th century more church barns fell out of use. This was encouraged by law in 1643. As more and more churches became private property the landlord owned both church buildings and tithe. For the church owner it was more convenient to have the tithe brought directly to his own barn and as the church barns lost their original function the materials of which they were built could be used for restoring the churches – another matter for which the church owner was responsible. Many church barns were lost on this account in the 1660s. The few church barns that remain today survived because they were used for a new purpose soon after the Reformation. In the boroughs they were often used as schools (fig. 14) and in the country parishes they could be converted into workhouses for poor people (fig. 21). The church barns have not drawn as much attention to themselves as an object of research as have the medieval churches, but they are a unique group of medieval buildings and together with the churches they form a unity that dates back almost 500 years. Mikael Manøe BjerregaardAfdeling for MiddelalderarkæologiAarhus UniversitetMoesgård

The archaeologist Erik WesterbyUp-front researcher on a spare-time basisThe centenary of the archaeologist and lawyer Erik Westerby, born in 1901, is the occation of this ac count of his career. It is a tale of a talented person’s magnificent achievements in his vainly fight for a seat on the scientific Parnassos.Erik Westerby had out standing intellectual talents within more of the areas important for car ying out a rchaeological research at a high level. Initially, however, a youthful and ill-concealed belief in his own talents gave him problems getting on with the conservative research environment of his contemporaries. In addition he had to struggle with a complicated mind of his own.From his youth, Westerby’s dedication to archaeology was directed to the exploration of the oldest times. He was the first to present a settlement from the late Ice Age: the Bromme site, and until today he has remained one of the famous names within the early Stone Age research in Denmark.His mind was set on archaeology, and yet he chose a more sec ure way of earning a living and became a lawyer. Parallel to the law studies, he worked so vigorously with archaeology that it is difficult to understand how he managed to graduate with good marks in an extraordinarily short time. In 1929, he settled as an independent lawyer in Copenhagen, in an office close to the High Court and the National Museum.The Stone Age settlement of Bloksbjerg in northern Copenhagen was the object of Westerby’s first large-scale field work (fig. 1). Nineteen years old, he published the preliminary results of the excavation.The following year he extended his knowledge of the Palaeolithic Period of France during a one-month study visit in Dordogne, an area rich of archaeologi cal finds.These studies were carried out with great thoroughness and included carefully documented test excavations at some of the classical sites.When he was 26, Westerby published a thesis on the early Stone Age in Denmark, taking his own settlement investigations as his point of departure. In this book, the term “the Mesolithic Age” was introduced in Danish terminology. Here, he also argued for the individual culture eras being named after important find localities. The early part of the Mesolithic Age in Denmark (which prior to this was often called “the Bone Age”) was hence to be called the Maglemose Era and the late part the Ertebø1le Era.The local academic dignit aries met this termino logy with severe criticism. Nevertheless, it was gradually accepted far beyond the Danish borders.From a modern point of view, the book was a very com etent archaeological presentation. It was submitted to the University of Copenhagen as a dissertation. However, the established scholars showed their disapproval by simply rejecting it.To add insult to injury, the promising youth was even humiliated in public by members of the National Museum’s staff. Among other things they pounced on the claim that a widely occurring, yet hitherto unnoticed type of flint tool, the burin, was to be found in the settlement inventories of the early Stone Age in Denmark. Today, we all know that Westerby was right, but in the 1920s, this claim was received differently by the few professional archaeologists in Denmark. Westerby was considered unsuited as a professional archaeologist, and so his profession was to stay the law.His next large project was the testing of the theory that coastal settlement had existed before the Ertebø1le Era Through reconnaissance expeditions to reclaimed fiords, he established co mpr ehensive traces of coastal settlement from a time berween the Ertebølle Culture and the Maglemose Culture. This era is now called the Kongemose Era, but it could just as well have been called the “Gislinge Era” due to his rich settlement find of this era in the Lamme fiord in North-West Zealand. However,Westerby decided to play down the sigruficance of his new find and refrain from such a pretentious terminology.In 1933, the results of Erik Westerby’s investigations of the reclai med fior ds were published. The energetic, Stone Age knowledgeable Therkel Mathiassen, who was employed by the National Museum that year, was interested in the Gislinge site, but he did not get an opportunity of excavating it until seven years later. And this was not to be the last place where Westerby’s and Mathiassen’s paths crossed.Erik Westerby’s next large project was to find signs of late Ice Age settlements in Den­mark – until then, this era was on ly represented by stray items. To do this, he carried out comprehensive field reconnaissance, which among other things led to his arrest by both the Danish police and the German occupying power due to his unu sual activities in the landscape.In 1938, he realised that the Amose bog in Western Zealand was a true treasure chest when it came to Mesolithic settlements. This realisation led to a short article in the reputable scholarly magazine , Acta Archaeologica. The article presents the results of a small trial excavation on the Øgårde locality. Having expressed reservations due to the limited and provisional character of the investigation, he concluded that there were pottery sherds in a closed context from the Maglemose Era, and that this was therefore the hitherto oldest pottery find in the world (fig. 2).Westerby called on the National Museum to undertake the responsibility of further investigation into the Åmose settlements, and Therkel Mathiassen immediately took it up on himself to take care of it. When a few years later he published the results of his very comprehensive investigations of for instance Øgårde, the sensational (and wrong) conclusion, that the Maglemose culture knew how to make pottery, was maintained.From Westerby’s diary we know that at the age of thirty, he regretted having been induced to deal with law. Archaeology fascinated him much more, and here he had exceptional talents. In private, he was a lonely person, and his legal work suffered from his great commitment to archaeology.The striking gesture of handing over further work concerning the Åmose settlements to the National Museum may therefore be understood as an attempt to get out of aneconomically, socially, and professional dead end. He probably hoped that the museum would encourage him to carry on the investigations and that he would be given the necessary means to do so – perhaps in the form of permanent employment.If indeed such hopes were behind Westerby’s gesture, then they were completely ignored. Therkel Mathiassen left him no further possibilities of carrying on the work in Åmosen. He even walked on Westerby’s pride by publicly mentioning him in line with local artefact collectors, who helped the museum with its work in the bog.However, Westerby continued his systematic field reconnaissance elsewhere on Zealand. In the spring of 1944, on the edge of a bog near Bromme, northwest of Sorø, he found flint tools of a kind that made him conclude he had come across settlement traces from a late Ice Age settlement (fig. 4, 6, and 7). The National Museum quickly offered to help with the investigation. However, the sensatio al find had disturbed Westerby’s state of mind, and he declined the proposal for fear of Mathiassen (fig. 5) taking over the management of the investigations.Physical and mental over-exertion caused Westerby to seek medical treatment in the autumn of 1944 . As he had no recovered by the spring of 1945, he informed the National Museum of the situation and turned over further investigation to the museum. His approach to the museum was an unspoken request that he was given the possibility of leading the investigation against proper payment. However, the signal was ignored, and Mathiassen immediately began the planning of a large-scale investigation. Westerby inspected the investigatio , and a written controversy followed, in which he expressed his reservations about Mathiassen’s methods, interpretations, and professional ethics, before having a mental relapse.Westerby’s miserable mental and economical situation now caused his sister, Hjørdis Westerby, to contact the National Museum , and without her brother’s knowledge, she expressed his wish of a museum employment, which for years he had been too proud to express. A marked change in the museum’s course followed. Therkel Mathiassen wrote and offered Erik Westerby a favourable arrangement. Westerby answered,“The letter will be opened, read, and if necessary answered when my health and my doctor permits it”. Whether Westerby ever opened the letter is unknown.The following spring Mathiassen wrote another couple of letters in his new, generous manner. The latter of these was found unopened among the papers left behind by Westerby. The good initiative had come too late.In the spring of 1946, Erik Westerby, helped by his sister Hjørdis, wrote a scholarly presentation of his investigations of the Bromme settlement.The manuscript included remarks that could be easily interpreted as a critical comment on the National Museum. As Westerby did not want to delete them, the result was that he never saw the presentation published in its entirety. Mathiassen published his results from the site in a large article in 1948. A later reinvestigation of the complete find material from the site has shown that Westerby’s critical remarks on Mathiassen’s methods and interpretations were justified.I t is worthy of note that not only did Westerby find the Bromrne settlement; he also recognized the finds on this site as being from the late Ice Age. Later it has become evident that Bromme was not the first late Palaeolithic settlement to be found or published withom the archaeologists realizing the correct age of the artefacts.In the last months of 1946, Erik Westerby left Copenhagen in order to become a member of the legal staff on the police station in Ringkøbing, West-Jutland. In his spare time, he continued to cultivate his interest in archaeology. He gave himself the extreme task of finding traces of human habitation in Denmark prior to the last Ice Age. A gravel pit near Seest in the western part of Kolding especially attracted his attention. Here, remains from for instance rhinoceros and forest elephant were found in the melt water gravel from the Ice Age. The gravel pit finds included some man- made flint items, which may be from the Ice Age layers.At that time,Westerby’s professional competence finally gained unreserved acclaim. The then recently appointed leader of the Prehistoric Museum in Århus, professor P.V. Glob, was behind this. Among other things, he arranged Westerby’s participation as a Danish represent ative in an international congress to mark the centenary of the find of the famous Neanderthal skull (fig. 8).In Ringkøbing, Westerby gradually became a known figure (fig. 9), and his extraordinary housing conditions added considerably to his reputation as an eccentric – a status he seemed to cultivate with pleasure (fig. 11-12).When he first arrived in the town, he was assigned one of the more modest rooms in the local hotel. Here he stayed for 33 years! Erik Westerby’s eccentric personality may lead to the convenient conclusion that he was unsuited for anemployment at the National Museum. It should therefore be stressed that he functioned as a highly respected police official in Ringkøbing (fig. l0) until according to the state rules he was forced to retire at the age of 70.The story of Erik Westerby’s professional career inevitably casts a shadow over those archaeologists at the National Museum who were actively opposing him. And it must be emphasized that the negative appraisal should not just apply to the rank-and- file scholars, but also the leading profession als, who failed to create the possibilities for Westerby’s obvious talents to be exploited to the full.Each scholarly environment should be conscious of the fact that success does not just depend on the available economic resources. The profession’s ability to provide a breeding ground for new ideas and gifted persons – even when this seems to be conflicting the individual convenience a nd prestige of established scholars – is no less important. If the management is weak and lacking in visions, then the environment tends to pursuit in dividu l goals. The result is often a bad atmosphere. It is a common idea that lack of funds causes lack of constructive athmosphere. However, it may just as well be the lack of constructive athmosphere, which causes lack of funds.Danish archaeology is indebted to Erik Westerby for handing over the key localities for investigating the Early Stone Age, and for his instructive examples in methods and systematism. We are also indebted to his sister, Hjørdis Westerby,for showing our profession a great gesture after the death of her brother: due to her economy and business sense, she was able to found the Erik Westerby Foundation in support of Danish archaeologists. The capital of the foundation comes from the estate left by her brother and from a large gift of money from her.Anders FischerKulturarvsstyrelsenTranslated by Annette Lerche Trolle

A magnificent casket in a woman’s grave from the Viking AgeIn 2004 and 2006, Moesgård Museum excavated 21 Viking Age graves – 16 inhumation graves and five cremation graves – at Haldum Church, 20 km northwest of Århus in Eastern Jutland (fig. 1). All the graves with datable finds are from the 10th century; only one example will be presented here.The grave is a simple inhumation burial. The skeleton had completely disappeared and there were no signs of a coffin (fig. 2). About 40 cm from the western end of the grave base lay 16 glass beads scattered around over an area of about 20 x 30 cm. These comprised one red and one orange bead of opaque glass, one bead of white glass and 13 small beads of yellow glass. In the centre of the grave was a slate whetstone (fig. 3). At the eastern end was a concentration of iron fittings, and it soon became clear that these represented the remains of a casket.During excavation of the fittings a well-preserved lock turned up (fig. 4). One end of the lock’s cover plate terminates in a point with concave flared sides, while the other (broad) end divides into two prongs, between which a transverse, semicircular fitting has rusted fast. An iron band has been mounted across the pointed end; this is possibly a repair. The cover plate curves slightly along its length, which means that the lock must have been fitted on to a curved surface. The back of the lock is covered by a quadrangular plate. The distance between front and back plates is 15 mm, showing the thickness of the material within which the lock was fitted. On removing the back plate the lock construction can be seen; this is of well-known Viking Age type. It operates in such a way that the key – after having been placed into the keyhole – is pushed a little to the side so that it squeezes together the two springs of the bolt. The bolt is hereby disengaged and can be pulled back by means of a slide bar, which sits in continuation of the keyhole (fig. 5).The lock bolt is pushed into the above-mentioned, semicircular fitting. The latter comprises two plates separated by a c. 10 mm wide side piece, which gives the fitting the appearance of a small box. Three fittings of this type were found (fig. 6).Further to these components are edge and corner plates. The edge fittings all have the form of narrow, indented borders with small holes between the points. A fragment is shown lowermost on fig. 6. The corner plates have been bent back around the corner joints of the casket and are pointed at both sides.Certain other fittings were at first inexplicable. These mysterious pieces include three triangular fittings with small slide bars on their upper surface and 30 mm long bolts below (fig. 7). There are also fragments of some zip-like iron bands. These are slightly curved along their length and have a roof-shaped cross-section (fig. 8). Finally, there was a robust rivet with a square head, ingeniously worked with inwardly flared, tapered sides and crowned by a small boss.Wood imprints on the back of the fittings show that the casket was made of oak. The imprints were very useful when reconstructing the casket as they clearly show both the longitudinal direction of the wood and the depressions within it. There were imprints from a textile of coarse linen weave on the exterior of some of the edge fittings.It seems that the casket from Haldum had the same construction as the Bamberg casket (figs. 9 and 10). Each of the four sides of the Bamberg casket has, at its centre, a raised semicircular area covered by fittings. The exterior is decorated with a mask and there is a hole on the inside. The bolts of the lid presumably engaged with these holes when the casket was locked. Carved grooves in the wood under the ornamental plates of the lid lead out by way of the holes into the four semicircles. The semicircular fittings of the Haldum casket are, with regard to size and shape, completely identical to the mask fittings seen on the Bamberg casket. One of them is, as mentioned above, rusted to the lock, the bolt of which has been pushed into a hole on its inner surface. Consequently, its function is clear; it is also clear that the casket was locked when placed in the grave.The lid of the Bamberg casket is divided by ornamental bands into four triangular fields (fig. 11). In one of these fields (A), a T-shaped keyhole is apparent, and in continuation of this there is a slot for a slide bar. In the field opposite (C), there is a small hole and each of other fields (B and D) has a partly damaged slide-bar slot. We are so fortunate that the fittings surviving from the Haldum casket include slide bars, bolts and other lock parts that have been lost from the Bamberg casket.It is possible to place the lock and the various fittings from the Haldum casket in a square of the same dimensions as the lid of the Bamberg casket. In the fields created by arranging the zip-shaped fittings to form a diagonal cross, there is space for the lock and the three triangular fittings (fig. 11). The excavation photo in fig. 12 shows the three types of fittings in their original positions. In continuation of the keyhole, the lock has a small slide bar whereby the bolt was pushed into one of the semicircular fittings (side A). The forks of the lock plate extend down on either side of this fitting, demonstrating that there was a central depression in the four sides of lid in order to accommodate the semicircular fittings, as seen on the Bamberg casket. In the triangular fitting, which was located opposite the lock (side C), there is also a small slide bar but no slot in which it could move. Similarly, the wood imprint on the back shows that there was no depression to allow a bolt to be pushed back and forth. On the corresponding side of the lid of the Bamberg casket, the carved depression for the bolt is less marked than on the other sides. On the two remaining triangular fittings from the Haldum casket, the slide bars are located in 15 mm long slots (sides B and D). On the reverse, clear depressions are seen in the wood imprint in which the bolts were slid back and forth (fig. 13). If the fittings are arranged in this way, all the pieces show the same longitudinal direction of the wood imprints on their reverse. This indicates that the casket lid was made from one piece of wood.As is apparent from the carvings on the Bamberg casket, the slide bars of the closing mechanism were located close to the centre of the lid. The hidden grooves for the bolts run from here, under the ornamental plates, and emerge at the edge of the lid. Apparently, the Haldum casket did not have ornamental plates screening the grooves for the bolts. As a consequence, the triangular fittings with the slide bars were placed close to the edge of the lid so that they met the semicircular fittings. In this way it was only necessary to have short grooves for the bolts, and these were covered by the fittings.The way in which the lid and the casket are fitted to one another, together with the absence of hinges, indicates that the lid was loose and was lifted completely off in order to open the box. The bolt opposite the lock (side C) was permanently pushed forwards and was the first to be pushed into the matching semicircular fitting, after which the lid was tilted down into place. After this, the two bolts at the sides (B and D) were extended to keep the lid fastened. Finally, the lock’s bolt was pushed into place and the casket was then locked.By observing the curvature of the striker plate, the triangular fittings, the zip-shaped fittings and some of the edge fittings, which have a curved cross-section, it is possible to reconstruct the shape of the lid (see fig. 10). Its height was c. 45 mm. The rivet must have marked the centre of the lid, corresponding to the cruciform fitting on the lid of the Bamberg casket.The body of the Bamberg casket was assembled by pushing the end surface of one side against the side surface of the next. The wood imprints on the corner plates of the Haldum casket show that the same technique was also used here. It is apparent from these wood imprints, as well as the distance between front and back of the semicircular fittings, that the sides were about 10 mm thick. The wood imprints on the inner side of the semicircular fittings show that the tree rings on the side pieces ran vertically. Had they run horizontally, this would have rendered these curves a weak point.The surviving remains of the Haldum casket show a surprising similarity to the Bamberg casket. There is, however, nothing to indicate that the casket from Haldum was as magnificently decorated, but the now completely vanished oak wood casket may possibly have been decorated with both carvings and paintings. Furthermore, the casket originally had edge fittings greater than 3 mm in width which, in themselves, would also have constituted considerable ornamentation. This fact became evident from construction of the replica (fig. 14). The latter also confirmed the reconstruction of the Haldum casket and its complicated closing mechanism.The Haldum find shows that the Bamberg casket, with its special construction, is not unique, and two further finds kept at Danmark’s National Museum indicate that caskets of this type were perhaps more widespread than previously assumed. One is a cruciform fitting of gilt bronze (fig. 15). The four transepts end in stylised animal heads, and at the centre is a hemispherical raised area. At the centre of the lid of the Bamberg casket there is a cruciform fitting also with animal heads at the ends of the transepts, and in the middle sits a hemispherical rock crystal (fig. 16). The similarity to the former fitting is striking, and it seems likely that the artefact represents a lid fitting for a casket of Bamberg type. The other artefact is a cruciform fitting of sheet bronze with open-work sections between the limbs of the cross and a circular hole at its centre (fig. 17). The fitting is part-finished and of the same type as the first mentioned, but a somewhat different variant. The two fittings were found in an old ford across Halleby Å in Western Zealand near the rich Viking Age settlement at Tissø. They were recovered together with the remains of a tool chest.The grave in which the Haldum casket was found is presumed to be that of a woman because beads and small locked caskets are typical woman’s equipment in Viking Age graves. However, such grave goods have also been found in a few cases in men’s graves. The whetstone gives no indication of the sex of the deceased because this type of artefact was commonly included as grave goods in both men’s and women’s graves. The great similarity of Haldum casket to the Bamberg casket dates the grave to the second half of the 10th century.The style of the Bamberg casket indicates that it was produced in Denmark or Southern Scandinavia. Recently, however, attention has been drawn to the fact that the Mammen style also appears over a wider area. Finds from areas where the Vikings settled outside Scandinavia– from The British Isles to Russia – indicate that craft work in the Mammen style could also have been produced there. The finding of the Haldum casket does, however, add weight to the conclusion that the Bamberg casket was produced in Denmark. This is also the case for the two fittings from Halleby Å if the interpretation presented here is correct. However, whether boxes of this type were produced in one particular place or are the work of one or more travelling craftsmen remains to be ascertained.Jens JeppesenMarianne SchwartzMoesgård Museum

Refshøjgård. An extraordinary burial-find from the Single Grave Culture Towards the end of 2000, Moesgård Museum excavated a grave mound at Refshøjgård in Folby parish, approx. 15 km NW of Århus in Eastern Jutland (Fig. 1). After the topsoil was removed, it became obvious that the original grave mound had been destroyed completely by ploughing. The mound had been placed on a natural circular elevation consisting of clay. In the periphery of this elevation, seven secondary burials from the Late Roman Iron Age were discovered, while the centre of the mound contained two superimposed burials of the Single Grave Culture (SGC) (Figs. 2-3). These burials are described in the following.The plough had already destroyed most traces of the upper grave. Due to the collapse of the coffin in the grave underneath, part of the fill of the burial mound had sunk down into the resulting depression. Due to this, the grave goods – a typical thick-butted flint axe of SGC type (Fig. 9) and a battle axe of Glob’s type B1 (Fig. 8) – had been preserved in the depression (Figs. 4-5). The remnants of the original mound fill also held eight small pieces of SGC settlement ceramics (Fig. 14), all undecorated belly sherds. Twenty centimetres below, the primary burial showed up. It consisted of a coffin that was open in the eastern end. It was approx. 2 metres long, 85 centimetres wide, orientated E-W and built of planks approx. seven centimetres wide. In the southern side, an upper plank had fallen down and now rested next to a lower plank. The whole construction was obviously made in a provisional way. It was supported by a foundation made from stones up to the size of a human head, which had survived to a height of approx. 30 centimetres (Fig. 6-7). One of the stones turned out to be a quern stone, which had been deliberately placed in the southeastern corner (Fig. 13). There were no supporting stones in the open eastern side of the coffin. Within the coffin, traces of the deceased were clearly visible as dark marks in the earth. It was possible to recognize feet, legs, stomach, back, and part of the head, whereas the arms could not be determined with certainty. The legs were strongly bent under the dead, who was thus resting in a hocker-position. The body was lying on its right side, with the head towards the west and facing south – the typical position of men in burials from the SGC. It was closely surrounded by a thin line of greasy material, probably the remains of a cow hide or the likes. The dead therefore seemed to have been buried in some sort of leather bag. At the back and top of the head, the form of the greasy line suggested that the deceased was buried with some kind of hat. The grave goods consisted of a thick-butted flint axe placed front of the face (Fig. 10), a beaker in the southwest corner of the coffin (Fig. 11) and a rather large, symmetrically formed object of organic material, probably wood, that had only survived as a dark trace in the earth between the beaker and the head of the dead. Both grave finds can be dated to the very early SGC. In the upper grave, this dating is further indicated by the battle axe of type B1, which is characteristic of the very early SGC. It is unusual to find an SGC grave in a stratigraphic position underneath a battle-axe of this type. The lower grave must therefore be considered one of the very earliest finds known from the SGC. Two 14C-dates, obtained from charcoal, confirm this assumption (AAR- 7028, 4140 ± 50 BP = 2855-2680 BC cal and AAR-7029, 4175 ± 50 BP = 2865- 2705 BC cal).The flint axe from the lower burial is of a special nature as it shows typological traits similar to both the A-axes of the Late Funnel Beaker Culture (FBC) and the thick-butted flint axes of the SGC. It thus confirms the dating of the grave to the very early SGC. The beaker from the lower grave is clearly of local origin. It does, however, have some unusual traits, especially regarding the neck, which is higher and more cylindrical than usual. Parallels are known from the Corded Ware Culture south of the Harz in Eastern Germany. The person who manufactured the beaker in Jutland had probably seen beakers in this area of central Europe. Maybe it was someone who had traveled there, or a woman from that region who had moved up north. A thin brown crust was preserved inside the beaker (Fig. 12). It was investigated using both pollen analysis and microscopy. The crust turned out to not contain any pollen, although a pollen analysis of the sand contained in the beaker when it was found (mound fill that fell down) showed pollen in abundance and thus revealed good preservation conditions. The contents of the beaker thus probably did not consist of any drink made of honey (mead) as known from several Late Neolithic/Bronze Age finds in Scotland and Denmark. Investigation in a microscope with polarized light revealed that the crust contained large amounts of starch grains – a strong indicator of some form of beer. An attempt was made to confirm this theory by investigating the starch grains with a scanning electron microscope. Under good preservation conditions, starch grains from beer remnants can be shown to be affected by amylacous pitting due to the malting of cereal grains. This was done successfully with finds from ancient Egypt, but unfortunately the starch grains from Refshøjgård were too badly preserved (Fig. 15). However, in the best-preserved examples, form and size corresponded to starch grains from barley, which was almost the only type of cereal grown in the SGC. It is therefore concluded that the beaker from the lower grave at Refshøjgård once contained a form of beer brewed from barley. It may well be the oldest beer demonstrated in Europe so far. No traces of possible additives survived due to the insufficient preservation conditions.The pollen analysis of the sand from the beaker showed numerous pollen grains from barley (Table 1). The amount is several times higher than what is normal for barley fields, and it is therefore possibly the result of threshing, rather than of natural pollen dispersal. A review of other pollen analyses from barrows of the SGC and FBC showed that in both cultures, the threshing of cereals may have been part of the rituals performed during the building of the mounds or the burials. This phenomenon might then constitute an example of ritual continuity between the two cultures, which are otherwise clearly different in all aspects of material culture, settlement structure, economic strategy, etc. Another example is constituted by the sherds of settlement ceramic found in the remains of the mound fill. Comparable finds are often noted in the literature on the excavation of SGC mounds. This is even the case with the old excavations, which merely consisted of shafts dug in the center of the mounds. It appears that the sherds were deposited just above the graves. This is unlikely to have been the case if the finds merely represented ordi- nary settlement debris, which would normally include other types of materials, such as flint artifacts, charcoal, etc. Another aspect indicating deliberate deposition is the small size of the sherds, which are obviously fragmented as a result of deliberate destruction. The observed practice thus constitutes an apparent parallel to the deposition and smashing of pots that took place by the megalithic graves of the FBC.Several other finds from the earliest SGC are known from the area surrounding Refshøjgård. A distribution map shows that the Refshøjgård area constitutes an isolated settlement region and the easternmost closed distribution area of the SGC in Jutland (Fig. 16). The classical distribution area of the early SGC, Central and West Jutland, is characterized by poor sandy soils. The subsoil in the Refshøjgård area is also of a rather poor type, especially compared with the heavy clayey soils along the east coast of Jutland, where the settlements of the late FBC are found. The subsoil conditions thus may explain why the Refshøjgård area was settled by the early SGC. The emergence of Neolithic settlements in areas of poor soil indicates a remarkable intensification of farming, probably mainly herding, in South Scandinavia during the Neolithic.The flint axe from the earliest burial at Refshøjgård indicates that the deceased was originally related to the late FBC settlement on the coast. He then moved westward and may have been one of the first settlers in the Refshøjgård region. The agricultural symbolism (quern stone, threshing) connected to his burial may in fact indicate that he was the founder of the new settlement. It is interesting to note that quern stones appear in two other graves of the Corded Ware Culture (one from Jutland, and one from Poland) and that all graves are male burials with the quern stone always placed in the eastern end of the grave. This custom may well indicate founders’ graves, as all the known examples mark the earliest burials in the respective micro regions.The foreign typological traits of the Refshøjgård beaker are an important observation, as influences on the SGC from the area south of the Harz have been noted several times before. The origin of the SGC may in some way be connected to that area. According to older theories, the SGC were the result of massive ethnic migration. However, more recent research, including the study of the Refshøjgård burials, indicates that the local population constituted an important component in the transition from FBC to SGC. Migration from Central Europe may nevertheless have been part of the process, perhaps only in the form of translocation of single individuals or small groups.Lutz KlassenInstitut for Antropologi, Arkæologi ogLingvistik, Aarhus UniversitetTranslated by Annette Lerche Trolle

A Rooted Man and a Sacred PoetBy Viggo MortensenA Review of A.M. Allchin: N.F.S. Grundtvig. An Introduction to his Life and Work. With an afterword by Nicholas Lossky. 338 pp. Writings published by the Grundtvig Society, Århus University Press, 1997.Canon Arthur Macdonald Allchin’s services to Grundtvig research are wellknown to the readers of Grundtvig Studier, so I shall not attempt to enumerate them. But he has now presented us and the world with a brilliant synthesis of his studies of Grundtvig, a comprehensive, thorough and fundamental introduction to Grundtvig, designed for the English-speaking world. Fortunately, the rest of us are free to read as well.It has always been a topic of discussion in Denmark whether Grundtvig can be translated, whether he can be understood by anyone except Danes who have imbibed him with their mother’s milk, so to speak. Allchin is an eloquent proof that it can be done. Grundtvig can be translated and he can be made comprehensible to people who do not belong in Danish culture only, and Allchin spells out a recipe for how it can be done. What is required is for one to enter Grundtvig’s universe, but to enter it as who one is, rooted in one’s own tradition. That is what makes Allchin’s book so exciting and innovative - that he poses questions to Grundtvig’s familiar work from the vantage point of the tradition he comes from, thus opening it up in new and surprising ways.The terms of the headline, »a rooted man« and »a sacred poet« are used about Grundtvig in the book, but they may in many ways be said to describe Allchin, too. He, too, is rooted in a tradition, the Anglican tradition, but also to a large extent the tradition taken over from the Church Fathers as it lives on in the Orthodox Church. Calling him a sacred poet may be going too far.Allchin does not write poetry, but he translates Grundtvig’s prose and poetry empathetically, even poetically, and writes a beautiful and easily understood English.Allchin combines the empathy with the distance necessary to make a renewed and renewing reading so rewarding: »Necessarily things are seen in a different perspective when they are seen from further away. It may be useful for those whose acquaintance with Grundtvig is much closer, to catch a glimpse of his figure as seen from a greater distance« (p. 5). Indeed, it is not only useful, it is inspiring and capable of opening our eyes to new aspects of Grundtvig.The book falls into three main sections. In the first section an overview of Grundtvig’s life and work is given. It does not claim to be complete which is why Allchin only speaks about »Glimpses of a Life«, the main emphasis being on the decisive moments of Grundtvig’s journey to himself. In five chapters, Grundtvig’s way from birth to death is depicted. The five chapters cover: Childhood to Ordination 1783-1811; Conflict and Vision 1811-29; New Directions, Inner and Outer 1829-39; Unexpected Fulfilment 1839-58; and Last Impressions 1858-72. As it will have appeared, Allchin does not follow the traditional division, centred around the familiar years. On the contrary, he is critical of the attempts to focus everything on such »matchless discoveries«; rather than that he tends to emphasize the continuity in the person’s life as well as in his writings. Thus, about Thaning’s attempt to make 1832 the absolute pivotal year it is said: »to see this change as an about turn is mistaken« (p. 61).In the second main section of the book Allchin identifies five main themes in Grundtvig’s work: Discovering the Church; The Historic Ministry; Trinity in Unity; The Earth made in God’s Image; A simple, cheerful, active Life on Earth. It does not quite do Allchin justice to say that he deals with such subjects as the Church, the Office, the Holy Trinity, and Creation theology.His own subtitles, mentioned above, are much more adequate indications of the content of the section, since they suggest the slight but significant differences of meaning that Allchin masters, and which are immensely enlightening.It also becomes clear that it is Grundtvig as a theologian that is the centre of interest, though this does not mean that his work as educator of the people, politician, (history) scholar, and poet is neglected. It adds a wholeness to the presentation which I find valuable.The third and longest section of the book, The Celebration of Faith, gives a comprehensive introduction to Grundtvig’s understanding of Christianity, as it finds expression in his sermons and hymns. The intention here is to let Grundtvig speak for himself. This is achieved through translations of many of his hymns and long extracts from his sermons. Allchin says himself that if there is anything original about his book, it depends on the extensive use of the sermons to illustrate Grundtvig’s understanding of Christianity. After an introduction, Eternity in Time, the exposition is arranged in the pattern of the church year: Advent, Christmas, Annunciation, Easter and Whitsun.In the section about the Annunciation there is a detailed description of the role played by the Virgin Mary and women as a whole in Grundtvig’s understanding of Christianity. He finishes the section by quoting exhaustively from the Catholic theologian Charles Moeller and his views on the Virgin Mary, bearing the impress of the Second Vatican Council, and he concludes that in all probability Grundtvig would not have found it necessary to disagree with such a Reformist Catholic view. Finally there are two sections about The Sign of the Cross and The Ministry of Angels. The book ends with an epilogue, where Allchin sums up in 7 points what modem features he sees in Gmndtvig.Against the fragmented individualism of modem times, he sets Gmndtvig’s sense of cooperation and interdependence. In a world plagued with nationalism, Gmndtvig is seen as an example of one who takes national identity seriously without lapsing into national chauvinism. As one who values differences, Grundtvig appeals to a time that cherishes special traditions.Furthermore Gmndtvig is one of the very greatest ecumenical prophets of the 19th century. In conclusion Allchin translates »Alle mine Kilder« (All my springs shall be in you), »Øjne I var lykkelige« (Eyes you were blessed indeed) and »Lyksaligt det Folk, som har Øre for Klang« (How blest are that people who have an ear for the sound). Thus, in a sense, these hymns become the conclusion of the Gmndtvig introduction. The point has been reached when they can be sung with understanding.While reading Allchin’s book it has been my experience that it is from his interpretation of the best known passages and poems that I have learned most. The familiar stanzas which one has sung hundreds of times are those which one is quite suddenly able to see new aspects in. When, for example, Allchin interprets »Langt højere Bjerge« (Far Higher Mountains), involving Biblical notions of the year of jubilee, it became a new and enlightening experience for me. But the Biblical reference is characteristic. A Biblical theologian is at work here.Or when he interprets »Et jævnt og muntert virksomt Liv paa Jord« (A Simple Cheerful Active Life on Earth), bringing Holger Kjær’s memorial article for Ingeborg Appel into the interpretation. In less than no time we are told indirectly that the most precise understanding of what a simple, cheerful, active life on earth is is to be found in Benedict of Nursia’s monastic mle.That, says Allchin, leads us to the question »where we are to place the Gmndtvigian movement in the whole spectmm of Christian movements of revival which are characteristic of Protestantism« (p. 172). Then - in a comparison with revival movements of a Pietistic and Evangelical nature – Allchin proceeds to give a description of a Grundtvigianism which is culturally open, but nevertheless has close affinities with a medieval, classical, Western monastic tradition: a theocentric humanism. »It is one particular way of knitting together the clashing archetypes of male and female, human and divine, in a renunciation of evil and an embracing of all which is good and on the side of life, a way of making real in the frailties and imperfections of flesh and blood a deeply theocentric humanism« (p. 173).Now, there is a magnificent English sentence. And there are many of them. Occasionally some of the English translations make the reader prick up his ears, such as when Danish »gudelige forsamlinger« becomes »meetings of the godly«. I learnt a few new words, too (»niggardliness« and »esemplastic«) the meaning of which I had to look up; but that is only to be expected from a man of learning like Allchin. But otherwise the book is written in an easily understood and beautiful English. This is also true of the large number of translations, about which Allchin himself says that he has been »tantalised and at times tormented« by the problems connected with translating Grundtvig, particularly, of course, his poetry. Naturally Allchin is fully aware that translation always involves interpretation. When for example he translates Danish »forklaret« into »transfigured«, that choice pulls Grundtvig theologically in the direction that Allchin himself inclines towards. This gives the reader occasion to reflect. It is Allchin’s hope that his work on translating Grundtvig will be followed up by others. »To translate Grundtvig in any adequate way would be the work of not one person but of many, not of one effort but of many. I hope that this preliminary study may set in train a process of Grundtvig assimilation and affirmation« (p. 310)Besides being an introduction to Grundtvig, the book also becomes an introduction to past and contemporary Danish theology and culture. But contemporary Danish art, golden age painting etc. are also brought in and interpreted.As a matter of course, Allchin draws on the whole of the great Anglo-Saxon tradition: Blake, Constable, Eliot, etc., indeed, there are even quite frequent references to Allchin’s own Welsh tradition. In his use of previous secondary literature, Allchin is very generous, quoting it frequently, often concurring with it, and sometimes bringing in half forgotten contributions to the literature on Grundtvig, such as Edvard Lehmann’s book from 1929. However, he may also be quite sharp at times. Martin Marty, for example, must endure being told that he has not understood Grundtvig’s use of the term folkelig.Towards the end of the book, Allchin discusses the reductionist tactics of the Reformers. Anything that is not absolutely necessary can be done away with. Thus, what remains is Faith alone, Grace alone, Christ alone. The result was a radical Christ monism, which ended up with undermining everything that it had originally been the intention to defend. But, says Allchin, Grundtvig goes the opposite way. He does not question justification by faith alone, but he interprets it inclusively. The world in all its plenitude is created in order that joy may grow. There is an extravagance and an exuberance in the divine activity. In a theology that wants to take this seriously, themes like wonder, growth and joy must be crucial.Thus, connections are also established back to the great church tradition. It is well-known how Grundtvig received decisive inspiration from the Fathers of the Eastern Church. Allchin’s contribution is to show that it grows out of a need by Grundtvig himself, and he demonstrates how it manifests itself concretely in Grundtvig’s writings. »Perhaps he had a deep personal need to draw on the wisdom and insight of earlier ages, on the qualities which he finds in the sacred poetry of the Anglo-Saxons, in the liturgical hymns of the Byzantine Church, in the monastic theology of the early medieval West. He needs these resources for his own life, and he is able to transpose them into his world of the nineteenth century, which if it is no longer our world is yet a world in which we can still feel at home. He can be for us a vital link, a point of connection with these older worlds whose riches he had deciphered and transcribed with such love and labour« (p. 60).Thus the book gives us a discussion - more detailed than seen before – of Grundtvig’s relationship to the Apostolic Succession, the sacramental character of the Church and Ordination, and the phenomenon transfiguration which is expounded, partly by bringing in Jakob Knudsen. On the background of the often observed emphasis laid by Grundtvig on the descent into Hell and the transfiguration, his closeness to the orthodox form of Christianity is established. Though Grundtvig does not directly use the word »theosis« or deification, the heart of the matter is there, the matter that has been given emphasis first and foremost in the bilateral talks between the Finnish Lutheran Church and the Russian Orthodox Church. But Grundtvig’s contribution is also seen in the context of other contemporaries and reforming efforts, Khomiakov in Russia, Johann Adam Möhler in Germany, and Keble, Pusey and Newman in England. It is one of Allchin’s major regrets that it did not come to an understanding between the leaders of the Oxford Movement and Grundtvig. If an actual meeting and a fruitful dialogue had materialized, it might have exerted some influence also on the ecumenical situation of today.Allchin shows how the question of the unity of the Church and its universality as God’s Church on earth acquired extreme importance to Grundtvig. »The question of rediscovering Christian unity became a matter of life and death« (p. 108). It is clear that in Allchin’s opinion there has been too little attention on this aspect of Grundtvig. Among other things he attributes it to a tendency in the Danish Church to cut itself off from the rest of the Christian world, because it thinks of itself as so special. And this in a sense is the case, says Allchin. »Where else, at the end of the twentieth century, is there a Church which is willing that a large part of its administration should be carried on by a government department? Where else is there a state which is still willing to take so much responsibility for the administration of the Church’s life?« (p. 68). As will be seen: Allchin is a highly sympathetic, but far from uncritical observer of Danish affairs.When Allchin sees Grundtvig as an ecumenical theologian, it is because he keeps crossing borders between Protestantism and Catholicism, between eastern and western Christianity. His view of Christianity is thus »highly unitive« (p. 310). Grundtvig did pioneer work to break through the stagnation brought on by the church schisms of the Reformation. »If we can see his efforts in that way, then the unfinished business of 1843 might still give rise to fruitful consequences one hundred and fifty years later. That would be a matter of some significance for the growth of the Christian faith into the twentyfirst century, and not only in England and Denmark« (p. 126).In Nicholas Lossky’s Afterword it is likewise Grundtvig’s effort as a bridge builder between the different church groupings that is emphasized. Grundtvig’s theology is seen as a »truly patristic approach to the Christian mystery« (p. 316). Thus Grundtvig becomes a true all-church, universal, »catholic« theologian, for »Catholicity is by definition unity in diversity or diversity in unity« (p. 317).With views like those presented here, Allchin has not only introduced Grundtvig and seen him in relation to present-day issues, but has also fruitfully challenged a Danish Grundtvig tradition and Grundtvigianism. It would be a pity if no one were to take up that challenge.

In the Garden of EdenThe covers of the first three volumes of Kuml show photographs of fine Danish antiquities. Inside the volumes have articles on the Stone Age, the Bronze Age and the Iron Age in Jutland, which is to be expected as Kuml is published by the Jutland Archaeological Society. However, in 1954 the scene is moved to more southern skies. This year, the cover is dominated by a date palm with two huge burial mounds in the background. In side the book one reads no less than six articles on the results from the First Danish Archaeological Bahrain Expedition. P.V. Glob begins with: Bahrain – Island of the Hundred Thousand Burial Mounds, The Flint Sites of the Bahrain Desert, Temples at Barbar and The Ancient Capital of Bahrain, followed by Bibby’s Five among Bahrain’s Hundred Thousand Burial Mounds and The Well of the Bulls. The following years, reports on excavations on Bahrain and later in the sheikhdoms of Qatar, Kuwait and Abu Dhabi are on Kuml’s repertoire.However, it all ends wit h the festschrift to mark Glob’s 60th anniversary, Kuml 1970, which has three articles on Arab archaeology and a single article in 1972. For the past thirty years almost, the journal has not had a single article on Arabia. Why is that? Primarily because the character of the museum’s work in the Arabian Gulf changed completely. The pioneers’ years of large-scale reconnaissance and excavations were succeeded by labourous studies of the excavated material – the necessary work preceding the final publications. Only in Abu Dhabi and Oman, Karen Frifelt carried on the pioneer spirit through the 1970s and 1980s, but she mainly published her results in in ternational, Englishlanguage journals.Consequently, the immediate field reports ended, but the subsequent research into Arab archaeology – carried out at the writing desk and with the collections of finds– still crept into Kuml. From 1973 , the journal contained a list of the publications made by the Jutland Archaeological Society (abbreviated JASP), and here, the Arab monographs begin to make their entry. The first ones are Holger Kapel’s Atlas of the Stone Age Cultures of Qatar from 1967 and Geoffrey Bibby’s survey in eastern Saudi Arabia from 1973. Then comes the Hellenistic excavations on the Failaka island in Kuwait with Hans Erik Mathiesen’s treatise on the terracotta figurines (1982), Lise Hannestad’s work on the ceramics (1983) and Kristian Jeppesen’s presentation of the temple and the fortifications (1989). A similar series on the Bronze Age excavations on Failaka has started with Poul Kjærum’s first volume on the stamp and cylinder seals (1983) and Flemming Højlund’s presentation of the ceramics (1987). The excavations on the island of Umm an-Nar in Abu Dhabi was published by Karen Frifelt in two volumes on the settlement (1991) and the graves (1995), and the ancient capital of Bahrain was analysed by H. Hellmuth Andersen and Flemming Højlund in two volumes on the northern city wall and the Islamic fort (1994) and the central, monumental buildings (1997) respectively.More is on its way! A volume on Islamic finds made on Bahrain has just been made ready for printing, and the Bronze Age temples at the village of Barbar is being worked up. Danish and foreign scholars are preparing other volumes, but the most important results of the expeditions to the Arabian Gulf have by now been published in voluminous series.With this, an era has ended, and Moesgård Museum’s 50th anniversary in 1999 was a welcome opportunity of looking back at the Arabian Gulf effort through the exhibition Glob and the Garden ef Eden. The Danish Bahrain expeditions and to consider what will happen in the future.How then is the relation ship between Moesgård Museum and Bahrain today, twenty-three years after the last expedition – now that most of the old excavations have been published and the two originators of the expeditions, P.V. Glob and Geoffrey Bibby have both died?In Denmark we usually consider Bahrain an exotic country with an exciting past. However, in Bahrain there is a similar fascination of Denmark and of Moesgård Museum. The Bahrain people are wondering why Danish scholars have been interested in their small island for so many years. It was probably not a coincidence when in the 1980s archaeologist and ethnographers from Moesgård Museum were invited to take part in the furnishing of the exhibitions in the new national museum of Bahrain. Today, museum staff from Arab countries consider a trip to Moesgård a near-pilgrimage: our collection of Near East artefacts from all the Gulf countries is unique, and the ethnographic collections are unusual in that they were collected with thorough information on the use, the users and the origin of each item.The Bahrain fascination of Moesgård Museum. was also evident, when the Bahrain minister of education, Abdulaziz Al-Fadl, visited the museum in connection with the opening of the Bahrain exhibition in 1999.Al-Fadl visited the museum’s oriental department, and in the photo and film archive a book with photos taken by Danish members of the expeditions to the Arabian Gulf was handed over to him. Al-Fadl was absorbed by the photos of the Bahrain of his childhood – the 1950s and 1960s – an un spoilt society very different from the modern Bahrain. His enthusiasm was not lessened when he saw a photo of his father standing next to P.V. Glob and Sheikh Salman Al Khalifa taken at the opening of Glob’s first archaeological exhibition in Manama, the capital. At a banquet given by Elisabeth Gerner Nielsen, the Danish minister of culture, on the evening following the opening of the Glob exhibition at Moesgård, Al-Fadl revealed that as a child, he had been on a school trip to the Danish excavations where – on the edge of the excavation – he had his first lesson in Bahrain’s prehistory from a Danish archaeologist (fig. 1).Another example: When attending the opening of an art exhibition at Bahrain’s Art Centre in February 1999, I met an old Bahrain painter, Abdelkarim Al-Orrayed, who turned out to be a good friend of the Danish painter Karl Bovin, who took part in Glob’s expeditions. He told me, how in 1956, Bovin had exhibited his paintings in a school in Manama. He recalled Bovin sitting in his Arabian tunic in a corner of the room, playing a flute, which he had carved in Sheikh Ibrahim’s garden.In a letter, Al-Orrayed states: ”I remember very well the day in 1956, when I met Karl Bovin for the first time. He was drawin g some narrow roads in the residential area where I lived. I followed him closely with my friend Hussain As-Suni – we were twentythree and twenty-one years old respectively. When he had finished, I invited him to my house where I showed him my drawings. He looked at them closely and gave me good advice to follow if I wanted to become a skilful artist – such as focusing on lines, form, light, distance, and shadow. He encouraged me to practice outdoors and to use different models. It was a turning point in our young artists’ lives when Hussein and I decided to follow Bovin’s instructions. We went everywhere – to the teahouses, the markets, the streets, and the countryside – and practised there, but the sea was the most fascinating phenomenon to us. In my book, An Introduction to Modern Art in Bahrain, I wrote about Bovin’s exhibitions in the 1950s and his great influence on me as an artist. Bovin’s talent inspired us greatly in rediscovering the nature and landscape on Bahrain and gave us the feeling that we had much strength to invest in art. Bovin contributed to a new start to us young painters, who had chosen the nature as our main motif.”Abdelkarim Al-Orrayed was the first Bahrain painter to live of his art, and around 1960 he opened a studio from which he sold his paintings. Two of his landscape watercolours are now at Moesgård.These two stories may have revealed that Bahrain and Moesgard Museum have a common history, which both parts value and wish to continue. The mutual fascination is a good foundation to build on and the close bonds and personal acquaintance between by now more generations is a valuable counterbalance to those tendencies that estrange people, cultures, and countries from one another.Already, more joint projects have been initiated: Danish archaeology students are taking part in excavations on Bahrain and elsewhere in the Arabic Gulf; an ethnography student is planning a long stay in a village on Bahrain for the study of parents’ expectations to their children on Bahrain as compared with the conditions in Denmark; P.V. Glob’s book, Al-Bahrain, has been translated into Arabic; Moesgård’s photos and films from the Gulf are to become universally accessible via the Internet; an exhibition on the Danish expeditions is being prepared at the National Museum of Bahrain, and so forth.Two projects are to be described in more detail here: New excavations on Bahrain that are to investigate how fresh water was exploited in the past, and the publication of a book and three CDs, Music in Bahrain, which will make Bahrain’s traditional music accessible not just to the population of Bahrain, but to the whole world.New excavations on BahrainFor millennia, Bahrain was famous for its abundance of fresh water springs, which made a belt of oases across the northern half of the island possible. Natural fertility combined with the favourable situation in the middle of the Arab Gulf made Bahrain a cultural and commercial centre that traded with the cities of Mesopotamia and the IndusValley already in the third millennium BC.Fresh water also played an important part in Bahrain’s ancient religion, as seen from ar chaeological excavations and Mesopotamian cuneiform tablets: A magnificent temple of light limestone was built over a spring, and according to old texts, water was the gods’ gift to Bahrain (Dilmun).Although fresh water had an overwhelming importance to a parched desert island, no studies have been directed towards the original ”taming” of the water on Bahrain. Therefore, Moesgård Museum is now beginning to look into the earliest irrigation techniques on the island and their significance to Bahrain’s development.Near the Bahrain village of Barbar, P.V. Glob in 1954 discovered a rise in the landscape, which was excavated during the following years. It turned out that the mound covered three different temples, built on top of and around each other. The Barbar temple was built of whitish ashlars and must have been an impressive structure. It has also gained a special importance in Near East research, as this is the first and only time that the holy spring chamber, the abzu, where the god Enki lived, has been un earthed (fig. 2).On the western side of the Barbar temple a monumental flight of steps, flank ed on both sides by cult figures, was leading through a portal to an underground chamber with a fresh water spring. In the beautiful ashlar walls of this chamber were three openings, through which water flowed. Only the eastern out flow was investigated, as the outside of an underground stonebuilt aqueduct was found a few metres from the spring chamber.East of the temple another underground aqueduct was followed along a 16-m distance. It was excavated at two points and turned out almost to have the height of a man. The floor was covered with large stones with a carved canal and the ceiling was built of equally large stones (fig. 3).No doubt the spring chamber was a central part of the temple, charge d with great importance. However, the function of the aqueducts is still unknown. It seems obvious that they were to lead the fresh water away from the source chamber, but was this part of a completely ritual arrangement, or was the purpose to transport the water to the gardens to be used for irrigation?To clarify these questions we will try to trace the continuations of the aqueducts using different tracing techniques such as georadar and magnetometer. As the sur roundings of Barbar temple are covered by several metres of shifting sand, the possibilities of following the aqueducts are fine, if necessary even across a great distance, and if they turn out to lead to old gardens, then these may be exposed under the sand.Underground water canals of a similar construction, drawing water from springs or subsoil water, have been used until modern times on Bahrain, and they are still in use in Iran and on the Arabian Peninsula, especially in Oman, where they supply the gardens with water for irrigation. They are called qanats and are usually considered built by the Persians during periods when the Achaemenid or Sassanid kings controlled Arabia (c. 500 BC-c. 600 AD). However, new excavation results from the Oman peninsula indicate that at least some canal systems date from c. 1000 BC. It is therefore of utmost interest if similar sophisticated transportation systems for water on Bahrain may be proven to date from the time of the erection of the Barbar temple, i.e. c. 2000 BC.The finds suggest that around this time Bahrain underwent dramatic changes. From being a thinly inhabited island during most of the 3rd millennium BC, the northern part of the island suddenly had extensive burial grounds, showing a rapid increase in population. At the same time the major settlement on the northern coast was fortified, temples like the one at Barbar were built, and gigantic ”royal mounds” were built in the middle of the island – all pointing at a hierarchic society coming into existence.This fast social development of Dilmun must have parallelled efficiency in the exploitation of fresh water resources for farm ing to supply a growing population with the basic food, and perhaps this explains the aqueducts by Barbar?The planned excavatio ns will be carried out in close cooperation between the National Museum of Bahrain and Aarhus University, and they are supported financially by the Carlsberg Foundation and Bahrain’s Cabinet and Information Ministry.The music of BahrainThe composer Poul Rovsing Olsen (1922-1982) was inspired by Arab and Indian music, and he spent a large part of his life studying traditional music in the countries along the Arabian Gulf. In 1958 and 1962-63 he took part in P.V. Glob’s expeditions to Arabia as a music ethnologist and in the 1970s he organised stays of long duration here (fig. 4).The background for his musical fieldwork was the rapid development, which the oil finds in the Gulf countries had started. The local folk music would clearly disappear with the trades and traditions with which they were connected.” If no one goes pearl fishing anymore, then no one will need the work songs connected to this work. And if no one marries according to tradition with festivity lasting three or sometimes five days, then no one will need the old wedding songs anymore’’.It was thus in the last moment that Rovsing Olsen recorded the pearl fishers’ concerts, the seamen’s shanties, the bedouin war songs, the wedding music, the festival music etc. on his tape recorder. By doing this he saved a unique collection of song and music, which is now stored in the Dansk Folkemindesamling in Copenhagen. It comprises around 150 tapes and more than 700 pieces of music. The instruments are to be found at the Musikhistorisk Museum and Moesgård Museum (fig. 5).During the 1960s and 1970s Rovsing Olsen published a number of smaller studies on music from the Arabian Gulf, which established his name as the greatest connoisseur of music from this area – a reputation, which the twenty years that have passed since his death have not shaken. Rovsing Olsen also published an LP record with pearl fisher music, and with the music ethnologist Jean Jenkins from the Horniman Museum in London he published six LP records, Music in the World of Islam with seven numbers from the Arabian Gulf, and the book Music and Musical Instruments in the World of Islam (London 1976).Shortly before his death, Rovsing Olsen finished a comprehensive manuscript in English, Music in Bahrain, where he summed up nearly twenty-five years of studies into folk music along the Arabian Gulf, with the main emphasis on Bahrain. The manuscript has eleven chapters, and after a short introduction Rovsing Olsen deals with musical instruments, lute music, war and honour songs of the bedouins, festivity dance, working songs and concerts of the pearl fishers, music influenced front Africa, double clarinet and bag pipe music, religious songs and women’s songs. Of these, eighty-four selected pieces of music are reproduced with notes and commented in the text. A large selection of this music will be published on three CDs to go with the book.This work has been anticipated with great expectation by music ethnologists and connoisseurs of Arabic folk music, and in agreement with Rovsing Olsen’s widow, Louise Lerche-Lerchenborg and Dansk Folkemindesamling, Moesgård Museum is presently working on publishing the work.The publication is managed by the Jutland Archaeological Society and Aarhus University Press will manage the distribution. The Carlsberg Foundation and Bahrain’s Cabinet and Information Ministry will cover the editing and printing expenses.The publication of the book and the CDs on the music of Bahrain will be celebrated at a festivity on Bahrain, at the next annual cultural festival, the theme of which will be ”mutual inspiration across cultural borders” with a focus on Rovsing Olsen. In this context, Den Danske Trio Anette Slaato will perform A Dream in Violet, a music piece influenced by Arabic music. On the same occasion singers and musicians will present the traditional pearl fishers’ music from Bahrain. In connection with the concert on Bahrain, a major tour has been planned in cooperation with The Danish Institute in Damascus, where the Danish musicians will also perform in Damascus and Beirut and give ”masterclasses” in chamber music on the local music academies. The concert tour is being organised by Louise Lerche-Lerchenborg, who initiated one of the most important Danish musical events, the Lerchenborg Musical Days,in 1963 and organised them for thirty years.ConclusionPride of concerted effort is not a special Danish national sport. However,the achievements in the Arabian Gulf made by the Danish expeditions from the Århus museum are recognised everywhere. It is only fair to use this jubilee volume for drawing attention to the fact that the journal Kuml and the publications of the Jutland Archaeological Society were the instruments through which the epoch-making investigations in the Gulf were nude public nationally and internationally.Finally, the cooperationon interesting tasks between Moesgård Museum and the countries along the Arabian Gulf will continue. In the future, Kuml will again be reporting on new excavations in the palm shadows and eventually, larger investigation s will no doubt find their way to the society’s comprehensive volumes.Flemming HøjlundMoesgård MuseumTranslated by Annette Lerche Trolle

Daggers from the Middle AgesOn entering the front door to Moesgård’s 226 year old main building, some of the first objects to meet one’s eyes are two magnificent white mineral cabinets in Louis XVI style. These beautiful cabinets are among the oldest pieces of furniture at Moesgård. They originate from Christian Frederik Güldencrone’s time (1741-88) and contain now – as then – a mineralogical collection (fig. 1). In a lower drawer of one of the cabinets there are, however, two daggers that have nothing to do with this collection and which must have been added on a later occasion.The types of dagger which will be dealt with here are the kidney dagger and the so-called lansquenet dagger mentioned below. They have their origins in the ­Middle Ages and they are, due to their form, closely linked with the military equipment, especially the plate armour, increasingly in vogue during the 14th century. When the dagger became part of the knight’s armament it was in order for it to be used in hand-to-hand fighting. With its strong and rigid blade, the dagger could be pushed between the plates of a fallen knight’s armour, enabling the final and decisive coup de grâce to be given (fig. 2). The military zenith of the dagger was in the 14th-15th centuries.Daggers are often difficult to date. Many have been recovered from bogs and lakes and a great number do not have any associated information about their origin. As a consequence, the typological chrono­logies that have been produced are rather coarse-grained and are mainly based on pictorial sources and collections of historical weapons (fig. 3).One of the daggers is a double-edged kidney dagger, listed as No. 6 in the catalogue (fig. 4). The length of the dagger is 30 cm, of which 10.5 cm comprises the grip and 19.5 cm the blade. The grip is made of root wood, while the blade is of iron. The blade is rather slender, no more than 1.4 cm at its widest. No smith’s stamp or mark is ­visible. Below each kidney, ­traces of a now missing quillon-plate can be seen; this was often curved or wing-shaped. The guard had been attached to the kidneys by way of two sprigs. At the end of the hilt, a knob or boss has been carved out of the root wood and between the boss and hilt runs a bead which is now somewhat effaced. X-­radiography reveals that the dagger has no real tang.The kidney dagger was quite often depicted in medieval times. An illustration in the so-called “Kristina Psalter”, thought to have been produced in Paris about AD 1230, is usually recognised as the oldest image of a kidney dagger. The dagger referred to is, however, very difficult to recognise as a kidney dagger; it is more probably of the high medieval dagger type – the cultellus. More certainty surrounds another rendition of a kidney dagger – that seen on Duke Christopher’s sepulchral monument from the AD 1360s in Roskilde Cathedral. This is usually regarded as Denmark’s oldest, securely dated kidney dagger (fig. 5). Another example to which attention is always drawn is the dagger shown at Valdemar Atterdag’s side on a fresco from about AD 1375 in St Peder’s Church in Næstved (fig. 6). The Moesgård dagger is dated to the period from the last quarter of the 14th century to the end of the 15th century.The kidney dagger has an interesting cultural history, not exclusively involving the art of war. Daggers become part of the rather dandified men’s fashion of the 15th century where the dagger was worn at front, hung on a belt. As can be imagined, it is no longer the kidneys one thinks about when seeing the dagger! This was also clear at the time; in England the dagger was referred to as the ballock dagger and in France dague á couilettes (fig. 7).The other dagger from the Moesgård cabinet is a so-called lansquenet dagger, listed as No. 17 in the catalogue. Like the kidney dagger this is a double-edged weapon (fig. 8). It is reminiscent of a small sword with short, straight or slightly bent quillons. The length of the dagger is 36.5 cm, of which the grip comprises 11 cm and the blade 25.5 cm. At the end of the tang a cone-shaped pommel with spiral grooves can be seen; this feature is repeated in the quillon terminals. Between quillon and tang, and between pommel and tang, narrow bronze casings can be seen – the last remnants of the lost grip. The double-edged blade, which has a maximum width of 2.1 cm, has a very strongly accentuated back; the cross-section between back and blade is almost concave.During the 15th century the composition and structure of armies gradually changed so that, with time, the heavily armoured cavalry were replaced by lighter infantry, armed with spears, swords and halberds. The infantry became more professional and in Germany, in the 15th century, were referred to as mercenaries; it is probably here that this type of dagger originated. There are several types of the so-called lansquenet dagger; variation is seen primarily in the shape and construction of the guard, but also the shape of the grip. Information from better preserved examples of the type, to which the Moesgård dagger belongs, suggests that the missing grip was probably of wood and was baluster-shaped. The sheath for a this type of dagger was often rather special, being made of wood and having a circular or oval cross-section and often several rows of horizontal beading. Some examples are iron-plated and heavy, and could be used as clubs in self-defence. The Moesgård dagger is dated to the 16th century, probably towards the end of the century.One further dagger, or rather the grip from a dagger, will also be dealt with here. This artefact was not, however, found in Dahl’s mineral cabinets but during an excavation alongside Århus Å in 2002. The degraded grip is made from a bovine metatarsal, carved to resemble twisted rope. It is listed in the catalogue as No. 7 (fig. 9). The grip is 10.3 cm long. The bone has been split lengthways and only the hint of one kidney is preserved. The artefact is dated to the latter half of the 15th century. The actual prototype for this piece is to be found among the magnificent daggers with grips fashioned from twisted bars of precious metal. In the earlier literature this type is dated to the 14th century but the ­evidence now indicates that it belongs to the latter half of the 15th century.Is a catalogue of the kidney and so-called lansquenet daggers from the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, which are either kept at museums in the Århus area or were found within Moesgård Museum’s area of archaeological responsibility. The main part of the collection is kept at Den Gamle By in Aarhus, and some of these daggers were previously published by A. Bruhn in 1950. Eighteen kidney and mercenary daggers are catalogued; further to these are six daggers, which cannot be assigned more precisely to type. Seven daggers are of unknown origin. It should be noted that 10 out of the remaining 17 daggers were found either in a lake, watercourse or bog. This significantly high proportion is probably not just due chance but no real investigation has ever been carried out into this phenomenon. Only two of the daggers were found during actual archaeological excavations.Lars Krants LarsenMoesgård Museum

»My name is Boye, I dig carins and old mounds«The archaeologist Vilhelm Christian BoyeThe story of Vilhelm Boye is the history of one man’s passionate and insightful involvement in archaeology, which from the first was directed solely towards the Bronze Age. His involvement led to an academic disaster in his youth, but left behind it a developed skill in field archaeology. Despite his problems he persisted with what most obsessed him, namely the preservation of Denmark’s oak coffin graves. His multi-facetted personality and his more popular approach to archaeology may have challenged his contemporaries, and certainly contributed to his more or less deliberate exclusion from a permanent appointment at the Museum of Northern Antiquities in Copenhagen. Even though he was opposed by powerful people within the Copenhagen museum establishment for nearly twenty years, he had the natural facility of easily winning the trust of others. This enabled him to cope with the situation and turn it to his advantage wherever he found himself. His marriage to Mimi Drachmann brought a welcome stability to his life, but his lack of professional recognition and his exclusion from a place at the top of archaeology continued. Time was running out for Boye, but he managed to leave an impressive body of published work behind him.Vilhelm Christian Boye was the son of the Norwegian-born priest and writer of hymns Caspar Johannes Boye. In 1848 his father was moved to the garrison church in Copenhagen, where the family lived at 29 Bredgade until his father’s death from cholera in 1853. This was a fashionable part of town, its residents including both the composer Niels W. Gade and Professor Adam Oehlenschläger, and even more notably J.J.A. Worsaae lived in the same property as the Boye family from 1850 to 1852. It was probably through his neighbour Worsaae that Boye later became a member of the circle around C.J. Thomsen. We may therefore assume that Boye visited and spent many after-school hours at the Museum of Northern Antiquities, and soon became an assistant during the public tours.Early in the 1840s tension arose between Worsaae and Thomsen, because Thomsen did not want to make Worsaae a junior museum inspector. Worsaae had not hitherto received any stipend or official position, and with some justice felt himself hard done by. Thomsen however did not respond to his request, so he left the Museum, later to be made Director for the Preservation of Ancient monuments. At the same time he taught at Copenhagen University, where Boye from time to time came to his lectures. There is no doubt that Boye wanted an academic career, and presumably hoped that his involvement with the Museum of Northern Antiquities would allow him to complete a study of Scandinavian archaeology. In the meantime Boye studied at the Museum under the direction of both Thomsen and Herbst.In early October 1857 Boye undertook one of his first excavations of a Bronze Age mound, the so-called Loholm barrow at Snørumnedre Mark (fig. 1). The dating of the grave however caused problems for him, but through a comparative study of Bronze Age burial rituals he concluded that the grave had close parallels within this period.The following year three funerary urns and some bronze objects were found in Hullehøj barrow, near Kjeldbymagle on the island of Møn. The barrow was going to be blown up, but the local judge had the work stopped and sent Boye to lead the excavation in May 1859. As the excavation progressed, Boye was able to ascertain that there were both cremations and inhumations in one and the same barrow. The inhumations were surrounded by fist-sized stones and placed at the bottom of the barrow, the cremations higher up within the mound. In comparison with his earlier barrow excavations it is worth noting Boye’s stratigraphic observations, which for the first time supported the division of the Bronze Age into an earlier and a later section. This hypothesis had been suggested earlier, but not hitherto adequately demonstrated. In 1859 Boye published the results of his excavations of 1857-8, as well as those of his recently completed excavation of Aasehøj barrow at Raklev, in the periodical Annaler for Nordisk Oldkyndighed og Historie for 1858. This article is his first independent scientific publication, and should have attracted greater attention than it in fact did. In modern perspective the article is a perfectly competent archaeological publication, in which Boye solely through field observations reaches the conclusion that the Bronze Age could be divided into two periods, each with its own burial ritual. Even though Boye had been close to understanding why both cremations and inhumations occurred in the same barrow as early as 1857, he did not reach his final understanding this early. In November 1857 Worsaae had in fact given lectures at the university in which he suggested a division of the Bronze Age, but it is noteworthy that he had not earlier published any or all of his conclusions. His work on the subdivision of the Stone Age was probably more important to Worsaae, while the subdivision of the Bronze Age was more of a footnote, a natural outgrowth of the idea that there was continuous development from one stage to the next. Boye’s article in Annaler thus inevitably supported Worsaae’s hypothesis, although this was presumably not the intention. On the contrary, Boye merely intended to publish his own conclusions. Boye cannot therefore be said to be the sole originator of the subdivision of the Bronze Age, but apart his barrow investigations there was nobody else who reached the same conclusion at the time independently of Worsaae.In 1860 Boye took part in the first major bog excavations, at Vimose and then at Thorsbjerg with Engelhardt. Despite adverse circumstances and appalling weather, the Thorsbjerg excavations produced several important finds including Roman coins, a gilt breastplate, and also a very unusual face mask of silver with gilt (fig. 2). Although Engelhardt did not publish the full excavation report until 1863-69, Boye presented his observations in Annaler as early as 1860, where he discussed earlier interpretations of the many weapons found in bogs. Boye observed that the universal destruction of these weapons did not happen by chance, but was deliberate. Furthermore, the weapons lay in groups of one type, and the shields were pierced by spear points to pin them to the bottom of the bog. Boye’s interpretation of the finds was thus remarkably accurate, because he regarded them as votive offerings of the spoils of war.When Prussian and Austrian troops crossed the Ejder River on 1st February 1864, Boye volunteered within the month and was promoted to lance corporal (fig. 3). In May he was landed to take part in the defence of the island of Als along with the other Danish forces. On his return home in August Boye continued his work at the Museum of Northern Antiquities, but Thomsen’s health was failing, and after a long illness he died on 21st May 1865. The question of who was to succeed Thomsen had long been discussed, and it was indeed Worsaae who was appointed. Although Herbst had been groomed for the job by Thomsen, he found himself outmanouevred. Boye probably already knew by then that he would not be given a position at the Museum. Herbst, his confidant, could no longer help him, and Thomsen’s awareness of his archaeological skills was of no use either. Circumstances thus forced Boye to leave the Museum.Boye’s relationship with the family friend and poet H.C. Andersen resulted in the latter recommending Boye in December 1867 as a Danish tutor to the Brandt family in Amsterdam (fig. 4). On Wednesday 22nd January 1868 Boye departed for Amsterdam via Kiel. During his stay Boye wrote regularly to Andersen, who also travelled to Amsterdam to visit him. His stay in Amsterdam was evidently good for Boye, and contributed to the fact that he never lost his love for archaeology. As early as late August of the same year, Boye travelled to southern Halland in Sweden at the request of Ritmester Peter von Möller, to examine and excavate a large group of barrows known as the Ätterhögar on the Drömmestrup estate, the excavation of which was concluded in early July 1869. Boye thus returned home just in time to take part as a member of the Danish Committee in the International Congress of Archaeology and Anthropology that was held in Copenhagen from 25th August to 5th September. But his love of Schleswig and the old borderland called him, and soon Boye moved permanently to Haderslev to work as a freelance writer on the daily paper Dannevirke under the editorship of H.R. Hiort-Lorenzen.His coverage of the International Congress of Archaeology and Anthropology meeting in Copenhagen is the most extensive of Boye’s writings in Dannevirke. He also wrote a series of articles with a marked archaeological-ethnographic content, for example on the antiquities of Brazil, and the discovery of ­Australia.Although Boye supported himself as a writer for Dannevirke, his main occupation seems rather to have been the investigation of the burial mounds of Schleswig, which before 1864 had only been intermittently examined by amateurs. Boye began an extensive programme, and without his efforts and initiative, knowledge of many Schleswig barrows would have been lost. Although the information he recorded was not particularly satisfactory, in that it was mostly based on the memory of local people, his efforts should be seen as a precursor, because the work of protection went slowly at the time. In his search for lost information, in 1875 Boye considered the barrow at Dybvadgård north of Åbenrå, which had been partially excavated by Prince Carl of Prussia in 1864. During the excavations the Prince’s soldiers found an oak coffin, which was despatched to the Museum für Völkerkunde in Berlin. Boye therefore wrote direct to the Prince, who in reply sent a photograph and description of the coffin. During the next eight years Boye managed to accumulate a great deal of information about the barrows of Schleswig, but his work was not without risk, because several of his “missions” involved evading the Prussian authorities and their power to confiscate the antiquities which Boye from time to time illegally sent to the Museum in Copenhagen.In 1874 the Principal of Herlufsholm School, C. Hall, engaged Vilhelm Boye to organise the school’s collection of antiquities, which had been in store for nearly twenty years. In addition to this reorganisation, funds were also made available for the systematic excavation of a nearby barrow at Grimstrup (fig. 5). The barrow however contained very little, mainly urns full of cremated bone, but the excavation was thoroughly recorded and a series of drawings was produced by R. Bertelsen, the school’s teacher of drawing. After this Boye set to work to display the collection in the six cases that were made available. The greater part of the collection came from the Stone Age, filling no fewer than five cases, giving an impression both of coastal finds from shell middens, and grave finds. The Bronze Age display contained only a few bronzes, but rather more pots. Iron Age artifacts were hardly represented at all, and consisted mostly of whetstones, a bowl-shaped buckle, and a pot burnt black.In November of the same year Boye was working at Herlufsholm, he produced his remarkable work Vejledning til Udgravning af Oldsager og deres foreløbige Behandling [Guide to the Excavation of Antiquities and their Initial Study], published under the auspices of the Society for the Historical-Antiquarian Collection in Århus. Boye’s Guide is the first of its type, and one can clearly detect his close association with Herbst, who had contributed to the scientific content of the work.Boye’s link with the antiquarian collection in Århus had not come about by chance. During his time at the Museum of Northern Antiquities he had early on made contact with the person mainly responsible for the establishment of the Århus collection, Edvard Erslev. Boye joined the museum in 1871, re-arranged the collection, and produced a guide for visitors. For the first time the museum acquired a new and professional look. Boye thus functioned as part of the leadership until 1876, when he gave up his museum post in favour of the schoolteacher Emmerik Høegh-Guldberg. The continued problems facing Dannevirke and Hiort-Lorenzen’s mounting confrontation with the judicial authorities in Flensborg probably caused Boye to consider his position with the newspaper. This culminated with the expulsion of Hiort-Lorenzen, who then took up the post of chief editor of Nationaltidende in Copenhagen. Boye also travelled to Copenhagen in early 1878, and on 15th November the year after he married Mimi Drachmann, sister of the poet Holger Drachmann (fig. 6 ). Not suprisingly, Boye got a job at the Nationaltidende, where he edited the newspaper’s Archaeological and Ethnographic Communications until 1885. In the seven years Boye worked at the paper, no fewer than 150 numbers of the Communications appeared, Boye writing more than 400 pages of them himself. The articles include a multiplicity of archaeological and ethnographic topics such as “Egypt’s Ancient Cultures” and “A Copper Age in Scandinavia”.In 1882 Count Emil Frijs of Frijsenborg commissioned Boye to catalogue and organise his estate’s collection of prehistoric and medieval objects, which came from the area round the lake and castle ruin at Søborg in northern Zealand. Attempts had been made to drain the lake since 1793, and several antiquities had been found at various times during the work. The recording project culminated in the publication of a small book, Fund af Gjenstande fra Oldtiden og Middelalderen i og ved Søborg Sø [Finds of Objects from the Prehistoric and Medieval Periods in and around Søborg Lake], which among other things contains some of the first photographic illustrations of Danish antiquities (fig. 7).Worsaae’s death in 1885 inaugurated a new era, and Herbst was finally able to take over the post of head of the Museum (fig. 8). Boye’s long friendship with Herbst had in the previous years resulted in him becoming a regional inspector for the Museum. Herbst was probably even then considering Boye for a future post in the Museum, and was indicating that he himself could not be overlooked when it became time to nominate a successor to Worsaae. After his appointment to the Museum of Northern Antiquities in 1885, Boye continued his activities as inspector in northern Zealand, and was frequently called when new finds were recovered from Bronze Age barrows.In contrast to Herbst, Boye rapidly fell in with the group of younger workers, particularly Henry Petersen (fig. 9). Over the years they became close friends with a common interest in new finds, as during the excavation of Guldhøj in 1891. Boye had no draftsman at the excavation, but he did have a local photographer who recorded some aspects of the opening of the first oak coffin. These are the first photographs ever to be taken during an excavation, even though photography by then was nothing new (fig. 10).With the reorganising of the National Museum, Boye was made senior assistant of the historical section on 1st April 1892, under Henry Petersen. He was responsible for the Museum’s archive and library, but fieldwork and travels are what particularly characterise his work in these years. When the small Bronze Age barrow on which the Glavendrup rune stone had been erected in 1864 was nearly completely destroyed by ploughing, Boye undertook a restoration of the barrow itself and the associated ship-shaped arrangement of stones in 1892 (fig. 11). The restoration’s outcome was the construction of a new barrow on which was placed the rune stone, and the re-erection of the stones in the ship arrangement.At the same time, chamberlain A. Oxholm undertook a small excavation of the Bronze Age barrow at Tårnholm, and recovered an oak coffin containing the remains of a woman, a fine necklace, a belt plate, and a small bronze dagger. Boye was immediately informed, and in connection with his investigations at Tårnborg was able to go to Tårnholm and lead a new excavation of the barrow, in which A.P. Madsen was also involved, and recover two more oak coffins (fig. 12).If we now consider Boye’s last major work, the publication of the major volume Fund af Egekister fra Bronzealderen i Danmark [Finds of Oak Coffins from the Danish Bronze Age], there are several indications that suggest that Boye began the work with the early intention that its coverage should be wide, and contain his long-term investigations into and knowledge of the country’s oak coffin graves. It is particularly noteworthy that his work as an archaeological journalist and with the Archaeological and Ethnographic Communications seems to have been a kind of precursor to this, as the last chapters contain sections that are clearly derived from his contributions to the Communications. The manuscript was completed in April 1896, and A.P. Madsen prepared for it no fewer than 27 full-page folio sized copperplates. The work was dedicated to “the veterans of Danish archaeology”, C.F. Herbst the museum director, and Japetus Steenstrup, with whom Boye had first collaborated more recently.His many years of a wandering existence and work-related disruptions had however told on him, and soon after the book was published Boye became ill. From his private correspondence from 1896 it emerges that Boye often had insufficient time to be with his nearest and dearest. Despite his illness he travelled one last time to visit relatives at Viken, but his illness worsened and he had to travel rapidly to Lund and on to Copenhagen. Boye died on 22nd September apparently as the result of a stroke, and was buried in Søllerød churchyard north of Copenhagen.Boye’s potential as a researcher was noticed early on by Thomsen, but just as quickly suppressed by Worsaae, who may more or less deliberately have sought to out-manoeuvre his colleague. Boye’s character and energy may have seemed a threat, and although he never finished an academic education he nevertheless displayed a remarkable archaeological acuity, but was unable to bolster his own reputation. Some of the blame for this must rest with the Museum’s aged leaders, who never supported or developed Boye’s evident skills to any great extent. It must also be stressed that some of Boye’s earlier career problems are closely connected to the lack of vision and jealousy of these same leaders. When he departed for Amsterdam Boye had no expectation of a Museum post, but despite this he intelligently kept up his contacts with Copenhagen, particularly with Herbst, knowing full well that Worsaae’s leadership would one day end. This somewhat bold presumption turned out to be correct, and helped his archaeological career.There is no doubt that Boye in his later years tried hard to recover his lost reputation and save his career from the disaster it suffered when he was younger, but the price was high and it also affected his health. We must today recognise that his reputation was restored to the highest level, and we must thank him for the fact that, through him, a uniquely detailed knowledge of the Bronze Age people themselves was preserved for Danish archaeology, as well as of their most prominent contribution to the Danish landscape: the barrows.Anders Otte StensagerInstitut for forhistorisk arkæologiKøbenhavns UniversitetTranslated by Peter Rowley-Conwy

This article sets out to discuss how we may work with the notion of ‘cultural encounters’. Two examples are presented and discussed: One is drawn from the novel Monnè, outrages et défis (1990) by the prize-winning Ivorian author Ahmadou Kourouma. The other example refers to a job interview of an ethnic minority Dane in Denmark, published in a review by a Danish municipal administration (Århus Kommune) in 2003. The article brings a number of critical literary theories into dialogue in order to discuss two major points. First, the article shows how the chosen theoretical notions can help us to describe what happens in situations of communication where different, and possibly incommensurable, agents and contexts meet and interact in settings that are marked by conceptions of cultural differences. The theories used are Michel Foucault’s discursive formations, Emile Benveniste’s concept of enunciation, Mikhail Bakhtin’s reflexions of contrapuntal narratives, and Homi Bhabha’s theorisation of the anteriority of the sign as it occurs in a disjunctive temporality. Secondly, the article introduces a new interpretative method of how literary texts and critical literary theory may be used within anthropological studies. Instead of focusing on the notion of ‘identities’ and the ensuing conflicts between difference and sameness, this approach focuses on cultural articulations as dynamic communicative processes. In so doing, it situates itself within literary and anthropological theories of representation. Making a close reading of the chosen texts, the article shows that cultural encounters are never merely a question of ‘culture’. Cultural encounters become communicative scenarios where ideas, motives, intentions, and emotions are expressed, interpreted, and received by differently reacting agents.

<p>I 2002 besluttede Den Gamle By at fortælle 1900-tallets Danmarkshistorie ved at udvide museet med to nye bykvarterer – et 1927-kvarter og et 1974-kvarter. Indtil da havde museet i al væsentlighed arbejdet med 16-, 17- og 1800-tallets historie, og der forestod (og forestår) derfor et stort arbejde med vidensopsamling og -generering i form af forskning og undersøgelser om den moderne bys udseende. Da detailhandelen er en meget synlig nyskabelse i den moderne by i forhold til de perioder, museet allerede præsenterer, var behovet for viden på ikke mindst dette område af stor betydning. I artiklen giver vi et overblik over 1900-tallets butiksudvikling i Danmark, og vi gør rede for de undersøgelser, der er gået forud for etableringen af butikkerne i Den Gamle Bys nye bykvarterer.</p><p><em><strong>Abstract</strong></em></p><p><em>In connection with the development of two new town districts – for 1927 and 1974 respectively – at the open-air museum, Den Gamle By (”The Old Town”) in Århus, its staff undertook a number of studies, one of which concerned the history of retail trade in Denmark.</em></p><p><em>Retail trade is an important factor in the formation of the modern urban streetscape. Urbanisation and industrialisation prompted an increase in shops from the mid-19^th century onwards. By the end of World War 1, retailing had developed from merchant’s houses offering a wide assortment of goods, to strictly specialised shops.</em></p><p><em>In tandem with this development, the visual appearance of the shops in the streetscape changed: from being next to invisible, marked only by a discrete sign on the wall around 1850, to the almost obtrusively large window sections, glossy advertisements and rich illumination of the interwar shop fronts.</em></p><p><em>The retail trade continued to develop significantly in the 20^th century: from relatively small establishments of independent grocers, greengrocers, butchers and bakers to large supermarkets offering all such goods under one roof. Consequently, food shops were largely replaced by service enterprises. From the 1960s onwards, the pedestrian streets in the city centres, as well as the assemblages of large supermarkets and other businesses on the outskirts, came to characterise the larger cities.</em></p>

Lektievejledning er en pædagogisk praksis i rivende udvikling med fokus på at støtte elever i at forstå og håndtere udfordringer i deres lektiearbejde. Lektievejledning er på den politiske dagsorden i skole og ungdomsuddannelser og tilbydes både internt af uddannelsesinstitutionerne samt af private og offentlige aktører. Men lektievejledning er ikke etableret som et teoretisk felt eller som en særlig vejledningskompetence. Der er således behov for at begrebsliggøre og udvikle teori om, hvad lektievejledning er, og hvordan vejledningsformen didaktisk kan håndteres. Mere konkret er ud-fordringen at udvikle et nuanceret fagsprog samt en modellering af feltet til forklaring af lektievejledningens komplekse praksis med det mål at udvikle og kvalificere lektievejledning som pædagogisk teori og pædagogisk prak-sis. Denne artikel præsenterer resultatet af et forskningsprojekt, hvis mål er at udvikle en vejledningsdidaktik, herunder metoder, modeller og materialer for lektievejledning i regi af Lektier Online. Lektier Online er en organisation ved Statsbiblioteket i Århus, der tilbyder en online lektiecafe, hvor bl.a. gymnasie-elever kan få hjælp af frivillige universitetsstuderende. Dette didaktiske de-sign er et eksempel på, hvordan digitalisering og ny teknologi er en katalysator for udvikling af nye innovative læringsmiljøer og læringstilbud, der åbner fleksible og stedsuafhængige rum for læring, giver mulighed for samspil med aktører uden for skolens formelle rammer, og som er båret af integration af digitale teknologier i læringssituationen. Artiklen beskriver forskningsproces-sen med at indkredse en vejledningsdidaktik for lektiehjælp samt udviklingen, konceptualiseringen, afprøvningen og evalueringen af en række vejlednings-modeller på grundlag af forskningsmetoden Pædagogisk designforskning og dens tradition for brugerdreven innovation. Artiklen beskriver for det første resultatet af forskningsprocessen i form af koncepter og modeller som: Lektie-vejlederens kompetenceprofil, Vejledningskompasset, Vejledningens scener og Vejledningsstrategimodellen – og evalueringen af disse modellers pædagogiske værdi. For det andet demonstrerer artiklen, hvordan forskerteamet metodisk har fortolket og udmøntet den pædagogiske designforsknings metode til ud-vikling af en vejledningsdidaktik. -- Homework counselling is a fast growing pedagogical practice where focus is on supporting students in understanding and handling challenges in their homework. Homework counselling is on the political agenda in schools and secondary schools and is offered both internally by the educational institutions as well as private and public operators. Homework counselling however is not established as a theoretical field or as a specific counselling competence. Hence there is a need to conceptualise and devel-op theories about what homework counselling is and how the form of counselling can be handled didactical. In concrete terms the challenge is to develop a nuanced terminology and a modelling of the field to explain the complex practices of homework counselling with the aim to develop and qualify homework counselling as a pedagogical theory and pedagogical practice. This article presents the result of a research project, which aim is to devel-op a counselling didactic, including methods, models and materials for homework counselling within the framework of Homework Online. Home-work Online is an organisation at the State Library in Aarhus, Denmark, which offers a place for online homework guidance where i.a. secondary school students can get help from volunteer university students. This didactical design is an example on how digitisation and new technology acts as a catalyst for developing new innovative learning environments and possibilities for learning, which opens flexible and spaces for learning irrespective of place, allowing interactions with external operators outside the formal school framework, and based on digital technology integration in the learning situation. The article describes the research process by in-creasing a counselling didactic for homework guidance plus the develop-ment, the conceptualisation, the testing and the evaluation of a number of counselling models based on the research method pedagogical design re-search and it’s tradition for user driven innovation. The article describes firstly the results of the research process in form of the concepts and mod-els: The Competence Profile of the Homework Counsellor, The Counselling Compass, The Counselling Scenes and The Counselling Strategy Model – and the evaluation of these models’ pedagogical value. Secondly the article demonstrates how the research team have interpreted and implemented the pedagogical design research method in the development of a counsel-ling didactic.

Resultater fra Lundbyes speciale og lokalhistorisk forsknings relevans for den samlede idrætshistoriske opfattelse.Steen Rosenvinge Lundbye: Who were they? A Local historical study of the earliest private gymnastic and sports initiatives in Århus and RandersWhy did people become members of a gymnastic or sport association at the end of the 19th century? If we study exclusively the professional groups to which members of Denmark’s earliest gymnastic and sports associations belonged, it becomes clear that business and office occupations represented a large majority. This has been interpreted as evidence for the fact that professional affiliations were a prerequisite for admission and membership of these associations. However, as the present article attempts to demonstrate, an overrepresentation of this kind does not necessarily mean that everything depended on professional relations. A detailed local historical study of the earliest members of Århus Gynmastic Association in 1880 and of Randers Gynmastic Association of 1872, focusing especially on members’ social and residential relations, shows that other factors can be indicated that might also have had considerable significance. In this way it appears that a large number of members had other features in common besides their profession. A very large proportion of them had addresses on the same land registry title, a situation which becomes particularly evident when all members addresses are drawn in on a land registry map. These results lead to the logical conclusion that an incoming member’s social circle had just as much influence on the chance of he or she becoming a member or not. In spite of the simplicity of this thesis, it has until now been bypassed by Danish researchers into sporting history, and it could be a benefit if other associations’ members could be studied in the similar way. Only by that means can we achieve clear answers to these questions.