Tyras in Late Antiquity

Beading was frequently used as a decorative and strengthening finish for the rims of silver bowls and dishes in the late Roman and early Byzantine periods. There are two main types of beading:(i) the bead-and-reel band (PL. XXA).(ii) the single-bead band (PL. XXB).The first consists of a series of oval or sausage-shaped solid beads alternating with smaller double-ridged reels (PL. XXC), while the second is a row of beads, often hollow, nominally of the same size, placed closely together (PL. XXE). In addition, some hybrid beaded rims, intermediate between the two, are found (for example, the two flanged bowls from the Carthage Treasure have a single row of small hemispherical beads worked almost entirely from the front). Beading is usually positioned on or close to the rims or outer edges of the dishes or vessels. Beaded decoration was particularly popular during the late Roman period, and decorates vessels found in many different locations, both within the Empire and outside it, for example fragments of beading found in a hoard of hacksilber from Coleraine, in Northern Ireland (PL. XXD), and a flanged silver bowl from the River Don in southern Russia, as well as vessels from Mildenhall, in England, Chaourse, in France, Carthage, Syria and Constantinople. The use of bead-and-reel decoration seems to be the earlier of the two techniques and was used on many of the vessels in the Chaourse Treasure in the third century A.D., while material from later hoards of the fourth to the sixth centuries, such as the Mildenhall treasure, show that the large single-beaded band had then become extremely popular. To discover the techniques employed to produce this simple beaded decoration examples of both types were examined using optical and scanning electron microscopy and X-ray fluorescence spectrometry. Models were made in copper to test the resulting theories on how the different methods of beading were carried out.

In the collection of the.National Museum of Antiquities in Edinburgh there is a bronze buckle from Orkney (FC 157; fig 1/1, pi lla).The buckle, which has an even green patina, has confronted animal heads at each end of the loop, on either side of the strap bar.On the hoop is impressed linear and dot ornament.The distinctive type of terminals at once suggests its affinities to the well-known series of zoomorphic buckles from late Roman and early post-Roman Britain, which have been discussed at some length and catalogued by Hawkes and Dunning (1961).The type of buckle to which the Orkney example most closely corresponds is Mrs Hawkes' Class IIIA, which she distinguishes as having 'semicircular loops terminating in open-jawed animal heads confronted across the hinge bars' (Hawkes and Dunning 1961, 59).These buckles are rare in Britain -Hawkes and Dunning record only eight examples, all apparently from the south of England and all (with the exception of three chance finds without proper association) from late Roman contexts (1961,(59)(60).These, and related buckles, were produced on the Continent in late Roman workshops, and Hawkes suggested that they were brought to Britain by Germanic federates in the fourth and early fifth centuries and were subsequently copied in Britain, believing them to be evidence for Germanic soldiers and settlers in the late Roman period (Hawkes and Dunning 1961, 40-1).Although it is now held that such metalwork enjoyed a wide circulation in the late Roman period, and was not merely used by Germanic soldiers and their families, the IIIA buckles were without doubt of Continental manufacture, as is attested by the finds from Haillot and elsewhere (cf Evison 1965, fig 4/8).Although the Orkney buckle might at first sight appear to be a Continental product, there are reasons for believing it to be a copy.Without exception, the IIIA buckles have animals with open jaws, and the animals on the Orkney piece have closed mouths.Secondly, the prototypes appear to have had metal attachment plates, while the wear striations on the bar of the Orkney buckle suggests it was attached to a leather belt which caused considerable friction.Thirdly, the shape of the animal heads, with snouts and receding chins, is difficult to parallel anywhere among the prototypes, but can be matched in the later but remarkably similar chapes from the St Ninians' Isle treasure (O'Dell et al 1959, pi XXXII).What the Orkney brooch represents is a Pictish product probably directly inspired by a IIIA brooch.Were the confronted animals of the Orkney buckle unique to Pictish metalwork, the similarity between the buckle and the St Ninian's Isle chapes might be regarded as fortuitous.There is, however, a further series of objects from Scotland which have the same device of confronted animals.These are 'swivel rings' -rings with a perforated expansion or ring at right angles to the hoop, through which originally passed a rivet which allowed the ring to pivot freely through 180.On these swivel rings the swivel is gripped by a pair of confronted animal heads.Of the surviving examples one unprovenanced ring differs slightly from the others (FC 128) in that a penannular

Studies of the Late Roman Lower German frontier have often focused on the evidence for Germanic migrants from either burials, material culture or settlement forms. Cultural Transformations in Germania Secunda adopts a multi-variate approach combining data on settlements, finds and metallurgy in both Germania Secunda and Germania Magna to present a more complex picture. A long-term comparison of structural evidence, archaeobotanical data and handmade pottery from rural settlements challenges the role of migration in the changes observed in the Late Roman settlement landscape. Instead of distinct migration events, this book argues for long-term interactive processes such as trade, exchange and multi-directional mobility. This book further brings together evidence on style, decoration, dating, spatial distribution and find contexts of 4540 civilian and military copper-alloy dress ornaments to challenge labels such as "Roman", "Germanic", "military" and "civilian" to argue for long-term continuity and hybridisation of material culture styles in the Lower Rhine frontier area in the Late Roman period. This Nuanced approach is also supported by the metallurgical analysis of 686 copper-alloy dress accessories, which gave insight into the production organisation of items worn by different social groups.

In classical archaeology the spatial aspects of deathscapes and associated funerary phenomena are often taken at face value. Beginning from a relational understanding of space, this article examines the necropoleis of middle Hellenistic to late Roman Sagalassos (second century BC to fifth century AD) within the wider context of the city. To facilitate this methodologically, four spatial aspects are investigated for the Hellenistic, Roman Imperial and late Roman periods: the relations between the spaces of the living and dead, landscaping practices, visibility and accessibility. These four aspects offer insight into the funerary and non-funerary relations from which the necropoleis emerged, developed, expanded and eventually disappeared. A whole range of funerary phenomena are included, ranging from cinerary urns, rectangular and vase-shaped ostothekai, aediculae, naiskoi, arcosolia and sarcophagi to larger sepulchral structures like temple tombs. In addition to being compared with urban developments, the observed patterns are further evaluated within the larger framework of Asia Minor. Ultimately, the enunciated archaeological patterns facilitate multicausal answers to where the Sagalassians placed their dead, if and how this changed and became more varied, and why these developments occurred in particular (re)configurations of time-space.

A Late Roman ceramic production from Pompeii

This volume takes a broad view of the intersection of maritime activities with the socioeconomic development of the Mediterranean world. Focusing on evidence from the Roman and late antique eastern Mediterranean, with particular attention to the area of southwestern Turkey and southern Cyprus from the second century BCE to the seventh century CE, Leidwanger presents an economic history intrinsically connected to the dynamic maritime world.The initial chapter, “Maritime Interaction and Mediterranean Communities,” utilizes previous influential works of F. Braudel (1972), C. Broodbank (2000), and P. Horden and N. Purcell (2000) to establish the opposition of approaches taken in conceptualizing the Mediterranean from the perspective of a “unified sea” to “fragmentation and microregions” considered over the longue durée. In this volume, Leidwanger’s aim is to take a diachronic and multiscalar approach to the maritime activities that shaped the economic and daily lives of those tied to the Mediterranean. He applies his knowledge of connectivity in the analysis of the multiscalar movements between maritime landscapes to understand the impact of the sea on the development of commerce, among other facets of daily life, in the ancient classical (Roman/late antique) world. His work with social network analysis (SNA) is applied here to model the diachronic evolution of economies linked to maritime activity, as well as landscapes. At the core of his network analysis is the relationship between nodes; his consideration of both ports and shipwrecks, as well as their cargoes, represents distinct datasets, valuable by themselves but given a new dimension of depth considered together in his overarching analysis. The choice of southeast Turkey and Cyprus as the focal point for his case study provides numerous centers of maritime activity in addition to extensive archaeological evidence from a single region. Within the Braudelian process, the long durée temporal scale of his study allows for the observance of changes in maritime and economic patterns within this single, particularly active region.The physical and social parameters encountered in his model are explored in Chapter 2, “Topography and Tools of Interaction,” through the examination of the region’s marine and coastal topographies, currents, and winds, which in turn impacted ship-building technologies and construction techniques, cargos and their capacity, as well as crew size. The interplay between these parameters is exemplified in his incorporation of current research on sailing seasons with the Mediterranean and their influence and effect on maritime technology, specifically in shipbuilding. The data under consideration for this region and study derives from shipwrecks and is reinforced by evidence from ancient texts and iconography. Leidwanger notably distinguishes between the iconography of the elites in sources such as ornate mosaics and those reflective of the lower classes in the form of dipinto. He applies these parameters along with data from the replica fourth-century BCE ship Kyrenia II (originally wrecked off the coast of Cyprus) to demonstrate the strength of recent research, which shows that sailing not only continued into the night but also through the winter season. His model ascribes these considerations not to a linear development but rather views it as the result of knowledge and experience of sailors and merchants, who over time responded to local environmental and economic variables. Given that this knowledge existed on a local and regional level, a strong case emerges for the legitimacy of interconnected, smaller networks driving maritime exchange.Chapter 3, “Modeling Maritime Dynamics,” moves on to the theoretical implications of the author’s network model set within a regional scope. Leidwanger dives into the complex terminology of concepts of “regionalism” and “regions,” along with their ties to maritime connectivity. Using the parameters explored in Chapter 2 together with descriptions of regions and journeys by ancient authors, he argues that the experiences of mariners are reflected in the nomenclature of informal boundaries, which in turn highly influenced sailing habits. Leidwanger acknowledges the “importance of the interrelated mobilities of goods and people” (91), along with the centrality of fishing, which help to create links across regions, economies, and social classes. This multiscalar approach gives much greater agency to the broader spectrum of players involved in maritime trade, looking beyond elite movement between large ports.At the center of this volume is a valuable dataset presented in Chapter 4, “Exploring Shipwreck Data,” in which 67 shipwrecks are evaluated based on the proposed model put forth in the previous chapters. This is a significant analysis and contribution to the field as there are less than 200 total shipwrecks published from the Roman and late antique eastern Mediterranean. Leidwanger’s corpus therefore represents a valuable undertaking. The most compelling takeaway from his analysis is the identification of spikes in maritime activity during the early Roman and late antique periods, with a relative lull during the third century CE, a phenomenon limited to the eastern Mediterranean. Leidwanger uses his experience with network analysis to evaluate the connectivity based on the various cargoes of ships. The quantification of the data reveals not only patterns over the breadth of time covered in this study but also allows for the identification of important developments on variable scales and in different areas (152). This model takes into consideration the impact of dynamic landscapes, spatial and relational data from shipwrecks, and temporal rhythms, among other factors, presenting a more nuanced picture of the ancient maritime economy.The other line of evidence in his analysis is presented in Chapter 5, “Ports and Everyday Economies,” in which he provides an assessment of port sites. Here too, a multifaceted approach is taken to the material by evaluating the archaeological evidence, as well as issues of geography, topography, and environment. This methodology highlights Leidwanger’s attention to regionalism and the variables specific to the different maritime and coastal landscapes. Using the GIS software Gephi for network analysis, he creates models of his study areas with port sites, providing new data on many unpublished sites. Exemplifying the usefulness of GIS applications, Leidwanger then combines his port-site models with data from terrestrial archaeological surveys on the agricultural production of commodities found in ports and wrecks to illustrate the connectivity between the inland networks of production and transport with those of the maritime pathways. This is an important contribution as it coalesces what are two usually distinct datasets from land and sea into a single, more complete picture of economic production and distribution. The mapping reveals a complex network of ports of varying scales that was intimately tied to environmental constraints, geography, and navigational abilities specific to that region. The value of local ports is highlighted in which the movement of goods through this highly localized geography could occur more easily, and frequently solidify connections with the regional network (195). The chronological framework of the author’s project allows for the recognition of development and changing patterns in the maritime networks of production and exchange in which during the Roman period the Aegean is the central node with networks radiating to more immediate connections in Cyprus, Cilicia, and the Levant, but also extending to the Adriatic, Black Sea, and the western Mediterranean in Gaul. However, the picture changes during late antiquity when Cyprus, Cilicia, and the Levant gain centrality within the broader production network.Chapter 6, “Maritime Networks in the Roman East,” brings together the data and arguments from the previous chapters and frames them within the eastern Mediterranean’s sociopolitical and economic spheres. Leidwanger discusses the shifts in maritime activity with concentrations in the early Roman period and during late antiquity. The economic zone created between Cyprus and the Aegean in the early Roman period, from the second century BCE to the second century CE, and reaching an apex slightly earlier than the western Mediterranean in the first century CE, shows that this region was integrated into the imperial network but maintained its own distinct zone of economic interaction. The other upturn in maritime activity corresponds to the establishment of Constantinople at the beginning of the fourth century CE, when the case-study regions of southwestern Turkey and southern Cyprus emerged as central nodes within the broader late antique economic networks, extending through the fifth century CE. At this time the regions developed greater connectivity through interregional trade as well as linking with broader networks associated with the Black Sea and Danube regions. Leidwanger reveals that the well-held perception of economic decline and reduction of late antique shipwrecks does not reflect a retraction of network use. Rather, late antiquity was a period of busy regional markets in the eastern Mediterranean.A short closing section, “Further Journeys,” postulates the direction of maritime archaeology and its development as a field of study. One area where the field could be exponentially enriched is with the addition of more multiscalar regional assessments, identifying southern France, Sicily, and Israel as regions with potential for regional projects similar to Leidwanger’s own. Echoing Horden and Purcell, the value of an analysis in the longue durée allows for greater detail, further broadening the chronological scope to include material from the Hellenistic through the later medieval periods in order to potentially add to this already rich corpus of evidence. Beyond expanding the temporal framework, Leidwanger suggests expanding the contextual data to include “other major indicators of mobility, interaction, and economic development throughout the hinterlands” (226). Ties between maritime networks with coastal and inland markets would provide new insights across a more unified regional economy.Two appendixes conclude the monograph. The first one of Roman and late antique shipwrecks from southwest Turkey and the northeast Mediterranean provides valuable information to further support Leidwanger’s analysis, such as the types of cargo recovered and wreck context in deposition. This is also a concise record, useful for future scholars to access the primary datasets (Parker, OXREP, DARMC) in one place through Leidwanger’s meticulous reassessment. The second appendix presents a thorough discussion of and data on wind patterns for the relevant regions through which one can see the impact of environmental variation on maritime movement.This volume makes several strong contributions to theoretical and methodological approaches toward the analysis of maritime economy. Leidwanger’s model highlights the continued need to move away from the previous, and somewhat current, trends of top-down approaches focused on exchange between large, urban ports. His case studies clearly demonstrate the complexity of maritime networks operating from the bottom-up, highly affected by regional variation in landscape, weather, and geography. They also highlight the local agency of mariners working at multiple levels of involvement in maritime movement and trade, producing a comprehensive model with aspects not previously considered in broader pan-Mediterranean models. An aspect of his research, rarely acknowledged, are the multifaceted roles these maritime agents played in trade, with varying identities, likely simultaneously as sailors, merchants, fishermen, and other operators that drove the regionalized worlds of maritime trade. Their small worlds, connected on a scale of no more than a few days’ journey in familiar territory, reinforce the focus on opportunistic harbors and regional networks operated by local experts. The geographical flexibility and dynamic nature of this model solidifies it as the primary mode of maritime trade in the eastern Mediterranean, despite different narratives held for traditional Mediterranean-wide models based on large port-to-port exchange.As with any study including ceramics and network analysis, petrography can add a whole other dimension of information. While this is an ideal inclusion for analysis, it is often unrealistic to be able to obtain extensive petrographic information, especially when looking at numerous assemblages from various excavations over an extended period. It would also be of interest to expand the dataset by including other ceramic vessel types, beyond those of transport amphorae, found in wrecks and port assemblages. Inclusion of ceramic vessels such as fine wares within this model would lend new information about their distribution from port to inland sites, including vessels moving with, and on, established agricultural market networks. As Leidwanger suggests in his “Further Journeys” section, inland trade-network studies provide another dimension of analysis toward understanding the complete movement of goods to inland sites, beyond their entrance at ports and small harbors.This volume represents an important move forward in our understanding of how multiscalar connectivity influenced not only maritime trade but the Roman economy itself. This comprehensive research provides a valuable model for future regional studies.

The City in Late Antiquity: A Re-Evaluation

The Expansion of the City in Late Antiquity

An important characteristic of North African cities in Late Antiquity is the appearance of structures relating to artisanal production in unusual settings, often in former public buildings. In this paper I argue for developing a study of this sector, looking not only at products, such as pottery, but also at productive structures and their wider urban location. Archaeological evidence from Tunisia and Tripolitania is analysed, dating from Vandal, Byzantine and also, occasionally, Early Islamic times, relating principally to murex dyeing, fish salting, olive oil production and pottery manufacturing. Lime kilns are also considered.

Burials deviating from the customary norms, differing from the other interments in the same necropolis, in terms of the position and treatment of the deceased’s body, the presence or absence of grave goods, or their location inside the necropolis, have been identified in all historical periods. These types of burials are usually denoted by the terms: atypical, non-normative, deviant, or unusual funerals, each of these terms implying particular meanings and connotations. In spite of this, a clear terminological consensus has not been reached, so these terms are often used as synonymous. The explanations of these funerals vary depending of the period and their context. In the case of the Late Roman period, the phenomenon of the atypical burials is recorded throughout Europe, and numerous interpretations have been offered, explaining the unusual treatment of the body of the deceased as the indicator of punishment, or a testimony to the practices caused by the fear of death. In individual, not infrequent cases, these funerals are interpreted as a reflection of marginalization and/or a consequence of a turbulent period. Namely, the Late Roman period is marked by political instability, economic crisis, frequent warfare, as well as the institutionalization of a new religion – Christianity. As a consequence, the causes of these burials become increasingly complex and demand a multi-dimensional consideration. It should be noted that the burials of this type during the late Roman period is not limited only to the region of Western Europe, but is also registered in the Central Balkan provinces, i.e. the territory of today’s Serbia. However, compared to the Western European literature, primarily published in English, which presents a rich corpus of data on atypical burials, the situation in the Roman archaeology in Serbia is quite different. In the Serbian scholarly discourse these phenomena received very limited attention, and their problematization in literature is largely absent. Bearing this in mind, the aim of this paper is to offer an overview of the documented and researched examples of atypical burials, the existing ideas and explanations for their appearance during the Late Roman period in the wider European area. The insight into multiple levels, starting from the wider temporal, as well as social and local contexts, may offer an indication of the potential causes of the practices of atypical burials during the late Roman period.

The Ancient City of Iuliopolis is located 123 km northwest of Ankara, in the Gülşehri area of Çayırhan Town, Nallıhan District. The settlement, divided by the Aladağ Stream, was previously known as Sarılar Village. With the construction of the Sarıyar Dam in the 1950s, the city was submerged under the dam's waters. Under the scientific supervision of the Anatolian Civilizations Museum in Ankara, archaeological excavations were carried out in 1991, 2009, and subsequent years. In the southern part of the area, which served as a necropolis during the Hellenistic, Roman, and Byzantine periods, numerous findings from the Late Roman and Early Byzantine periods were identified during the 2023–2024 excavations. Remains of fortification walls, roads, and structures have been identified and documented. An Early Byzantine storage room was discovered during excavations in November 2024. No kitchen or storage room had been previously identified in the city. Five in situ terracotta pithoi were found side by side at the base of a wall. One of these pithoi is notable for having a Latin cross on its surface. Inside Pithoi No. 4, a bronze patera was discovered, while the soil fills within the storage room yielded various artifacts, including a terracotta loom weight, an iron axe, a glass unguentarium (tear bottle), a fragment of a marble column drum, a column base, an altar fragment, a sculpture fragment, two coins, ceramic sherds, as well as terracotta brick and roof tile fragments. Apart from the three-aisled church and burial structures dating to the Early Byzantine Period, the discovery of this storage room suggests the presence of a monastic complex in the area, where surplus production was stored. The five pithoi and other small finds identified during the study were analyzed through analogical comparison to date the storage facility. In light of the data obtained were provided into the architecture and socioeconomic structure of Iuliopolis, shedding light on the Late Roman and Early Byzantine Periods.

Review| November 01 2022 Archaeology and History: A Late Antiquity for Britain Robin Fleming, The Material Fall of Roman Britain, 300–525 CE. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2021. 333 pp. + 22 b/w figs. ISBN: 9780812252446. $45, £36.Mateusz Fafinski, Roman Infrastructure in Early Medieval Britain: The Adaptations of the Past in Text and Stone. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2021. 239 pp. + 2 b/w figs. ISBN 9789463727532. €106. Helena Hamerow Helena Hamerow University of Oxford Search for other works by this author on: This Site PubMed Google Scholar Studies in Late Antiquity (2022) 6 (4): 734–739. https://doi.org/10.1525/sla.2022.6.4.734 Views Icon Views Article contents Figures & tables Video Audio Supplementary Data Peer Review Share Icon Share Facebook Twitter LinkedIn MailTo Tools Icon Tools Get Permissions Cite Icon Cite Search Site Citation Helena Hamerow; Archaeology and History: A Late Antiquity for Britain. Studies in Late Antiquity 1 November 2022; 6 (4): 734–739. doi: https://doi.org/10.1525/sla.2022.6.4.734 Download citation file: Ris (Zotero) Reference Manager EasyBib Bookends Mendeley Papers EndNote RefWorks BibTex toolbar search Search Dropdown Menu toolbar search search input Search input auto suggest filter your search All ContentStudies in Late Antiquity Search Archaeology was, once upon a time, referred to as “the handmaiden of history.” Images of artifacts served primarily to adorn the pages of historical accounts regarded by publishers as needing enlivening. How times have changed. Material culture—uncovered for the most part by archaeological excavation—is increasingly playing a central role in the writings of early medieval historians. Notable examples include Chris Wickham’s Framing the Early Middle Ages (2005) and, more recently, John Blair’s Building Anglo-Saxon England (2018).1 The two volumes under review here—both written by historians—bear witness to this growing engagement with material culture and how it is changing the way we view early medieval Britain. The Material Fall of Roman Britain has the archaeological record at its core and uses it to challenge conventional understandings of the notoriously elusive late Roman to post-Roman transition. Refusing to be constrained by traditional disciplinary and chronological divides, the book spans the period... You do not currently have access to this content.

Excavations conducted from 2012 to 2021 at the South Sector uncovered 34 graves, adding valuable new information to the mortuary record of the extramural cemetery of the settlement during the Late Roman and Early Byzantine periods (4 th to 6 th centuries AD). In addition to presenting and discussing the graves with their specific attributes such as the arrangement of diverse funerary structures, as well as body orientation and positioning, the skeletal remains were subjected to anthropological analysis for the first time to estimate the sex and age‑at‑death of the individuals and assess their health status while recording the documented pathological conditions. By constructing some individual profiles, we sought to briefly focus on detailing the challenges faced by individuals with particular and to offer insights into their lived experiences and difficulties when faced with such diseases. The diversity of funerary practices was evident, including reburials and cenotaphs. The high prevalence of graves with double‑sloped roof made of tiles in the South Sector contrasts markedly with the lower occurrence observed in the Basilica extra muros Sector, suggesting the possibility of a clustered group in the area of the former. By mapping graves based on chronological, sex, and age categories a comprehensive mortuary dossier is provided for the first time, integrating both older findings and these recent discoveries.

The 90 pottery fragments presented in this paper were discovered in 2015 at Histria, in the Acropolă Centru‐ Sud sector (excavation coordinated by the University of Bucharest). The pottery pertains to seven forms with 14 types of kitchen ware. This category of artefacts is very important and, at the same time, very discriminated. Common ware – and most of the kitchen ware is part of this category – is overlooked in favour of luxury ware, lamps and amphorae, and a very large quantity of material pertaining to this category remains unstudied. This situation is common, in spite of the fact that, due to its fragility and the lack of a waterproof coating (which means that in a short time organic matter and mold make it unusable), it had a short life and therefore provides archaeologists with a much more refined chronological marker. Apart from the chronological information, the study of kitchenware can shed new light on the trade directions and the zone of political influence in Scythia Minor during the Late Roman period. The publication of the entire pottery lot from and excavation can lead, now or in the future, to the clarification of certain problems for which we can only make suppositions at the present moment.

Aphrodisias in Late Antiquity - Charlotte Roueché (with contributions by J. M. Reynolds): Aphrodisias in Late Antiquity. The Late Roman and Byzantine Inscriptions Including Texts from the Excavations at Aphrodisias Conducted by Kenan T. Erim. (Journal of Roman Studies Monographs, 5.) Pp. xxviii + 371; 48 plates. London: Society for the Promotion of Roman Studies, 1989. - Volume 41 Issue 1