Stonehenge

With a history spanning 4,500 years, Stonehenge had been a national monument I had wanted to visit for a long time. This was our last stop in our Wiltshire weekend and I was the only one, out of three of us, who had never been. My companions reserved their opinions until I had had chance to witness the stones for myself.

Stonehenge is busy, even when other places are out of season. It is an endless movement of people in queues on foot, on buses and around the henge itself. Visitors from several continents are among us as we chatter in the line, waiting to show our prepaid tickets. We bypass the shop and restaurant so we can get to the circle early and avoid most of the crush. But it is still bustling as we wait for a bus to drive us down the long approach. I’m nervous, as I dislike crowds and my claustrophobia begins as we jostle into the bus and stand for the journey. Passing fields, with other burial mounds, and small, relatively young clusters of forest, we eventually arrive.

It’s not as large as I’d envisaged, though exactly how large I thought it was I cannot say! We walk slowly round, moving back from the clusters of foreigners all straining to take selfies in front of the rope fencing. We’d rather try and soak up the atmosphere, except there isn’t any. I’m disappointed to admit it was my least favourite site of the entire weekend. For all its supposed majesty and history, I didn’t feel the closeness to it that I had experienced at Avebury or West Kennet. I felt as though the spirits that had once lingered in this place had long disappeared, deciding to leave the relic to its gaggle of daily visitors with their camera phones. It was all rather impersonal.

We quickly departed and chose to walk back to the visitor centre, as did several others. We spent the time talking history, comparing the monuments we had seen that weekend and identifying burial mounds visible either side of us. We passed a marker stone for a World War I pilot who had crashed nearby and together, gave his memory a few moments of silent, contemplative thought. We had not seen it from the bus, so it made the return journey extra special. Arriving back at the visitor centre, we stopped by the cluster of replica Neolithic houses, where someone in period costume was explaining daily chores and tools to a family with small children. A nice touch, being educational as well as fun.

I found the on-site museum fascinating as it houses over 250 archaeological objects that have been discovered at the site over the years, including jewellery, pottery, tools and human remains. The forensic reconstruction of a man from 5,500 years ago was quite lifelike and it brought the past closer as so often we cannot relate to their way of life, but it’s easier to relate to a face. He could have been anyone walking among us, had he been dressed in modern clothes, which made the past that little bit more tangible. The rolling visual display with voiceover, taking you through the construction history of Stonehenge, gave an insight into how and when it had all arrived in the landscape. I had read most of the information in various books, but I thought it provided a clear linear example. Lastly, the restaurant and shop were expensive, so we did not linger. We planned to lunch somewhere on the way home. I bought some token bookmarks and wrist bangles for the tribe and we bid farewell to arriving coach parties and lengthening queues.

Out of all of the four sites we visited on our soggy weekend in 2016, Avebury was my absolute favourite. It felt spiritually close and an intensely personal experience. Being able to walk among the stones and touch them could possibly have made a difference for me at Stonehenge. I shall allow myself to simply wonder at that.

Solstice Blessings one and all xXx

FACTS: COURTESY OF ENGLISH HERITAGE WEBSITE [link]

E S MOXON has had a lifelong passion for history and writing. A childhood filled with family visits to ancient burial sites and stone circles fuelled her imagination. Inspired by classic medieval tales and Norse sagas, Elaine imagined herself inhabiting these Dark Ages and exploring the landscapes in her mind and continues to do so through her novels. The first in her ‘Wolf Spear Saga’ series is ‘WULFSUNA’ and books two and three will be out soon. When not lost in pages of the past, she lives in the Midlands with her family and their chocolate Labrador.

Blood, betrayal and brotherhood.

They come to honour a Warrior-Lord’s dream,

An ancient saga weaving their destiny,

But a treacherous rival threatens their fate.

The Wolf Sons are coming.

WULFSUNA

Last Rites and Burial

When writing in any era, the end of a life can take on various meanings, depending on the beliefs of the deceased individual. There may be an exotic afterlife to consider or particular funerary rites to adhere to. Tossing history into the mix brings with it layers of archaic ritual, older cultural boundaries and long-extinct practices. Therefore, this can be a complicated yet fascinating aspect of writing historical fiction.

West Kennet Long Barrow

photo: E Moxon

In my ‘Wolf Spear Saga’ series I must consider many factors in relation to the death of my characters. For my Germanic characters, they descend from a warrior line. Kings and tribal leaders would have received the ultimate in ornate burials with plenty of grave goods. If he is an experienced horseman, he may even be buried with his ‘noble steed’. However, in times of danger when there is little time to linger for fear of return attack, they might resort to a funeral pyre. This may be inevitable after battle if they have several dead warriors and limited time. Cremation was for centuries an acceptable form of funerary rite, even when some turned to Christianity. Grave goods have been found in Christian burials, despite not being a religion that encourages the placing of sacred objects with the body or cremation urn.

photo: visualhunt.com

Religious beliefs come and go, evolving and overlapping throughout history. Forms of burial container exist in hundreds of designs that have beauty or function to carry the dead into whatever future they perceived lay before them. Some expected to be collected by fearless shield maidens who would deliver them to the feasting hall of a one-eyed war-god, in order to battle into eternity. Others would expect to meet other deceased relatives in a summer meadow, able to lead a fruitful, playful existence with their array of grave goods.

Snettisham Great Torc

photo: visualhunt.com

Deaths of religious figures, such as priests and priestesses also vary depending on cultural and religious differences. Evidence has been found of herbs in Coptic jars and headdresses or pillows made from the leaves of plants considered to have magical powers. Essences in bottles and flower garlands worn as funerary adornments can hint at the importance of incense or plant oils accompanying those who possessed the ability to see the future or read the messages from scented fires. Embalming is a particular ritual that was perfected by the Egyptians, though is not restricted to their ancestral history alone.

Stonehenge

photo: E Moxon

Finally, then there are the cultural rituals replete among warrior tribes and the elite among ancient peoples. The Welsh and Irish sagas abound with the ‘rites of passage of kings’, with several tales of fathers being brutally murdered by sons. This has a multitude of connotations, from disgruntled sons eager to remove fathers from thrones to the right of every warrior to die a noble death. To die ungracefully in one’s own bed would be a disgrace to many a brave king, but were a son to ‘send’ his father to a noble death via the sword, then the king’s reputation and warrior-status would remain intact. This act, a ‘rite of passage’ could send the king into his chosen afterlife.

Oseberg Ship Burial

photo: visalhunt.com

~ ~ ~

Do you consider the end of your characters' lives as much as their creation?

How much detail and thought do you employ when creating characters?

Has a character's death affected you when writing/reading it?