Changes, Preservation, And Cultures

I was reading an academic paper about something completely unrelated to Day Job, and stumbled over an idea. The author was discussing different cultural patterns over time within a region, and said that (paraphrasing because I don’t have the book in hand) cultures desire change and seek out novelty and new ways of producing and working as a form of growth and evolution. I sat back and blinked, because at least four counter-examples sprang to mind.

Except… When I started really thinking about it, those examples were all groups under stress, and the changes were being offered from outside the group. Three of the groups were either Islamist or other religious groups, and the fourth was Russian peasants between 1650-end of serfdom. In the case of Russia, the reluctance of subsistence farmers to rush toward new crops and/or new technologies was based on two elements, very broadly speaking. One was pure survival. As close to the bone as farming had always been in Russia, going back into prehistory as best we can tell, there was very little room for error. Trying something new that might bring greater yields or better returns didn’t balance out the risk. It was safer to stick with what had always worked, even if it wasn’t ideal, because people knew it. The second element was that the novelties came from outside and above, from the boyars and other nobles, or worse, from neuveau riche landowners. These were people who had a track record of trouble, at least in the collective mind of a lot of peasants. If the noble liked it, it probably meant trouble, or at least made more work for the farmers without bringing much if any reward. And again, if the new thing required land that could be used for familiar crops that went to feed the family and pay taxes, well… No wonder change came slowly and with reluctance. The survival instinct was conservative in the literal sense. The group succeeded or the group starved, and novelties brought greater risk than reward.

Several writers have pointed out that pushing cultural groups into close proximity does not always bring friendship, to put it mildly, especially when one group dominates over the others in some way. Moorish Spain was NOT a tranquil haven of happy coexistence. Over time, cultural lines hardened and in-group laws were passed to ensure that “we” stayed “us” and didn’t mix with “them.” Fast forward a few hundred years, and you have groups like the Wahabists and other Salafists vehemently rejecting certain cultural and technological (and moral) innovations. “This isn’t the way it was done by the Prophet.” “This isn’t in the holy book and approved commentaries.” Note that this can apply to non-Islamic groups as well, but the Islamists are the best-articulated example. The more certain thinkers and writers were exposed to the West, the firmer their stance of opposition to ideas like legal equality of the sexes became. Certain technologies and other things are rejected as too corrupting and too tainted by their association with the Other.

To return to the archaeological paper I referred to at the start of this post, both my observation and the author’s are true. Many cultures, on the macro scale, do accept and perhaps seek out novelties and new ideas and things, turning them into status symbols or adapting them to local needs and conditions. Tools, materials like metals, concepts like religion and systems of governance, all those change over time even within cultures. Especially, I would argue, if there is not pressure from outside to change, but the idea and drive comes from inside the group and is allowed to be gradual. When stresses are applied from outside (Russian collectivization and enserfment of peasants, cultural collisions, rapid population movements that coincide with weather pattern changes), then groups balk and reject innovations and novelties. The risk is too great and threatens group survival.

That rejection can backfire. If the old ways of survival can’t be maintained, and the population won’t or can’t leave, the group might die out, like the Viking settlers of Greenland, or perhaps the Late Stone Age populations of Finland and Lapland. One is well attested to, the second has to be inferred as signs of population in Finland and Lapland declined, settlements shrank, and people seem to have become more mobile as a result of weather shifts. Pottery disappears for a while, which fits a less sedentary culture. Did people relocate away from the area, leaving the “Remainers” to find ways to adapt to the new situation? Did some groups just die out in place*? Or did harder conditions mean higher mortality rates and thus the smaller apparent population?

It’s an interesting question, cultural change, and one with a lot of twists, turns, and “insufficient data at this time.”

*Thus far, no archaeological evidence from the Baltic suggests this, but it is also a time period that has only recently really gained much archaeological attention.

Furor Gallico – Celtic Folk Metal

I apologize for the short post. Day Job got a little busy as we are starting the race to the end of the semester.

So, as so often happens, I was looking at one band’s music video and stumbled onto a different one. The first band … a leeeeetle too much teen-angst-goth* for me at the moment, although the sound’s not bad (Blackbriar). The second band is the Italian Celtic metal group Furor Gallico. The short version is that if you like Eluvite or Leaves Eyes, you’ll like this group.

They sing in several languages: English, Lombard (an Italian dialect), and a Germanic-sounding language that might be a different Italian dialect. Their first album was pretty heavy, with a lot of growls and heavy guitar with folk instruments. Their more recent albums seem to have mellowed, with more emphasis on the flute, Celtic harp, and a softer sound. There’s still a lot of metal growls and darker metal songs on the later albums, but all melodic. It’s “beauty and the beast” metal, with male growls and female vocals, although the men do straight vocals as well on many songs.

Yes, they are considered a pagan group. I skipped over one of their more obviously pagan albums for that reason. I don’t get the unpleasant vibe from Furor Gallico that I’ve picked up from a few other groups, and what I’ve heard thus far is not actively antiChristian. In this they are like Eluvite.

I’ve noticed that I’ve become a bit more selective in the past few years as far as metal goes. I’m leaning more and more toward the melodic end of the spectrum. I’m not sure if this is me and age, or if there’s a larger trend toward darker, heavier sounds in the broad spectrum of “metal.” Reading things like Metal Hammer magazine and similar blogs and web sites, I’m seeing more reviews for dark, thrash, and very rough metal, with increasingly dark themes and subject matter. It’s not my cup of tea.

*It’s the end of the school year, and I need a lower drama level in my fun music for now. I’ll probably come back to them later and see what I think.

Book Review: Facing the Sea of Sand

Cunliffe, Barry. Facing the Sea of Sand. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2023)

Short Version: This well-written overview history of the regions around the Sahara fills in a missing piece of regional and international history. It has a few flaws, but is well-worth reading.

Long version: Anthropologist and archaeologist Barry Cunliffe wrote an excellent survey of the prehistory and history of the region around the Sahara Desert. He begins at the beginning, with the early Holocene, tracking the changes in climate and weather that so influenced life in and around the region. As he points out, the desert, even at its worst, is not uniform, and people and animals have always crossed it, using the mountains and other microclimates as “islands” as they traverse the sea of sand.

One of the things the book emphasizes is the importance of trade and the exchange of ideas, even before Pharonic Egypt and other major centers of culture developed. The book tends to bounce north to south and west to east, considering places and peoples in a chronological fashion. This can be a weak point, because it can be hard to keep track of a lot of mostly unfamiliar names and places. The author does the best he can, I suspect, because it’s unfamiliar ground with sometimes indirect connections. The reader (this reader) had to do a lot of studying the maps (which are numerous and excellent) and diagrams to keep track of who was what was where, once the story passed beyond familiar ground. The book was a little slower going for me than was his previous summary, because it was such new-to-reader terrain, with new characters.

The Egyptians, Romans, and others make passing appearances in northern Africa. This will probably be familiar. The southern information might be new, and the connections between the two never severed, although they grew strained. The Niger River formed the center of a lot of activity, and Cunliffe devotes a goodly amount of time to the cultures that developed, flourished, fought, and faded in that area. North Africa, especially eastern North Africa, draws his attention after the end of the western Roman Empire. The links between Islamic revivals and the invasions of Iberia were new, and add depth to the more familiar story of the wars for Spain and Portugal.

That is also the period where I had to step back briefly and take a deep breath. Cunliffe follows the traditional view of Islam, and tends to give the Muslim conquerors and rulers the benefit of the doubt compared to Christian monarchs. He repeats the ideas about Islam being more advanced and civilized than Europe during the Middle Ages, and has a rather negative view of the Crusaders’ attempts to recapture formerly Christian lands. This is very traditional, and in the author’s defense, he is an archaeologist. As much work as he put into researching and writing the story of northern Africa, it is a very minor quirk and one most readers wouldn’t notice or be bothered by. He also lives in England, and the book is published by an English press, which might have played a role in his taking the traditional view.

The book covers the period from the late Ice Ages to the 1600s, more or less. The bibliography is extensive and detailed. I’d recommend the book for people interested in filling a gap in their knowledge of regional history, people interested in trade between regions, and those curious about the connections between Asia, Africa, and the Atlantic.

Walpurgistag/May Day

Ah, the feast (old version) of St. Walburga, and the start of summer in the Saxon calendar, and a few other things besides. We are halfway between the equinox and the summer solstice.

Of all the trees that grow so fair,
   Old England to adorn,
Greater are none beneath the Sun,
   Than Oak, and Ash, and Thorn.
Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good sirs,
   (All of a Midsummer morn!)
Surely we sing no little thing,
   In Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Oak of the Clay lived many a day,
   Or ever AEneas began.
Ash of the Loam was a lady at home,
   When Brut was an outlaw man.
Thorn of the Down saw New Troy Town
   (From which was London born);
Witness hereby the ancientry
    Of Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Yew that is old in churchyard-mould,
   He breedeth a mighty bow.
Alder for shoes do wise men choose,
   And beech for cups also.
But when ye have killed, and your bowl is spilled,
   And your shoes are clean outworn,
Back ye must speed for all that ye need,
   To Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Ellum she hateth mankind, and waiteth
   Till every gust be laid,
To drop a limb on the head of him
   That anyway trusts her shade:
But whether a lad be sober or sad,
   Or mellow with ale from the horn,
He will take no wrong when he lieth along
   'Neath Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Oh, do not tell the Priest our plight,
   Or he would call it a sin;
But - we have been out in the woods all night,
   A-conjuring Summer in!
And we bring you news by word of mouth-
   Good news for cattle and corn-
Now is the Sun come up from the South,
   With Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good sirs
   (All of a Midsummer morn):
England shall bide till Judgment Tide,
   By Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Granted “A Tree Song” is about midsummer, but …

Or an older version …

I prefer Steeleye Span or Golden Bough’s version, but to each their own.

Spring’s leanness had slid into summer’s bounty, the dairy cows gave milk, the first fruits of the forest were available, and life had improved with the warming of the year.

In the Saxon lands, the forces of mischief and evil had rallied on the Brocken on Walpurgisnacht, but with sunrise the light scattered them. The Wild Hunt rode farther west and north, woe betide anyone out when the hounds sounded their cry from the skies overhead! But that too had passed until after summer…perhaps.

Perhaps.

Weights and Measures: Prehistoric Edition

The Poles call them “little stone cheeses.” The Germans prefer one long word that translates “small stone balls with a groove carved in them.” The come in many sizes, although most are smaller than large, and can be made from any of a list of kinds of stone. Archaeologists have found them from northern Italy to the Baltic, from Gaul to the western steppes in what is now Beylarus and Ukraine. They are all Late Bronze Age, thus far, and no one knew quite what they were for.

Then someone said, “What if they were weights fo some kind. Not loom weights, but measuring weights?” And someone else, four someones else actually, did a lot of careful tedious work weighing, measuring, and recording the little stone cheeses and running the data through computers. Lo and behold, they probably were weights. Prehistoric metrology for the win!

Doing business without standardized weights and measures is…a challenge. Ask any medieval or early modern merchant. A London pound and a Paris pound and a Florentine pound might be very different weights. Each town with an official market had its measures, some of which were metal bars posted on the wall of the customs/toll/market master’s building. Everyone had to measure his cloth or other goods against the town foot or ell, since it was different from the last place’s official measure.

The same was true in prehistory, once trade became common enough. Metal in particular, but other goods as well, had to be semi standardized in some way that was acceptable. It’s one of those things that we take for granted today, and I mentally slapped my forehead (not physically, since I had students doing work and didn’t want them to think I was criticizing a project or discussion) when I read the paper. Of course there were weights and measures. That a standard had developed, and become accepted, and spread so widely opened up all sorts of interesting possibilities. Why had developed it, and when? How had it spread, and how quickly? How long had the trade network lasted and the weight unit been accepted as the standard? Who made sure that everything was legal and enforced the rules and prices?

Barry Cunliffe pointed out in his book about trade and civilization in the steppes of Eurasia that once trade begins, it is remembered even after it is interrupted. Trade and exchange were more common than we used to think, and far more extensive. Finding places that didn’t trade is unusual, or means that what went back and forth was something not easily seen in archaeology – furs, bone, wood, textiles, dye-stuffs, hides, slaves, ivory. The absence of the usual bronze and other status goods in parts of the southeastern Baltic raises all sorts of questions about trade, social organization, and so on.

So the little stone cheeses are a symbol of a far more complicated world in northern Europe than most of us realize existed in 1500 BC/BCE or so.

Faith and Nation? Faith of a Nation?

This isn’t exactly about religion, but nationalism in the European sense, and some things I’ve noted in folk-metal. Why all the Baltic and Norse neo-Pagan themes, and what is up, besides “shock the ‘danes and the Established church?”

So, a bit of history. Christianity arrived comparatively late in the Baltic, after AD 1000 CE, or even later, and it didn’t always take. The Northern Crusades were in part a response to aggressive tribal activity among the various peoples along the Baltic shore, and in part to the crusading spirit of the age (the main Crusades to reclaim Jerusalem et al from Islam were also in progress.) Earlier mission attempts in the eastern Baltic had failed for several reasons, and people decided that preaching backed by force was going to be required. The local tribes didn’t see any benefit in changing from paganism to Christianity. Survival, not salvation, was their concern, and they needed to keep their ancestral deities and the forces of nature placated and happy. The god of Christianity didn’t seem all that powerful. And, that faith came from outside and belonged to a different tribe, one that wasn’t always welcome in their fights and life styles.

Christianity was imposed and for several hundred years, held by force in some parts of the Baltic. The older pagan beliefs faded from view, eventually, and the Powers that Were congratulated themselves on having civilized the heathens. Alas that they were not able to civilize some of the Christian noblemen as well, but that’s history for a different time. Christianity seems to have remained something associated with the Germanic, Swedish, and Russian speakers, rather than internalized completely by the Finns, Lats, Lets, Estonians, Courlanders, and others.

Fast forward to the mid-1500s, and the Reformation. Keep in mind, there is no separation of church and state. The Baltic is, at least on the surface Catholic Christian, with the Russian Orthodox to the east. Along comes the Reformation, and Sweden’s monarchs throw in with Martin Luther for a number of reasons, some spiritual, some political. So anything under Sweden’s control needs to become Lutheran. To their credit, the Swedes were more mellow about tolerating Catholics and Orthodox than some others *coughHabsburgscough*, but the official faith was now Lutheran. No, the locals were not given much of a choice, not if they wanted to keep any rights and privileges that they had.

Come the 1700s and the region changed hands once more. “You are now Orthodox!” Came down from St. Petersberg, eventually. Again, the locals were not really consulted. Things were apparently tolerable until the late 1800s, when Russification started clamping down on non-Russian culture and faith to a greater degree.

Come the revolutions and independence, the church suffered with the state. Come the Second World War and the return of the Russians, atheism was official, and anything that smacked of nationalism was to be replaced by proper Soviet (Russian) culture unless it could be used to beat the West over the head with, like the icky Northern Crusaders. Except people paid hard currency to see the old castles and things from that time, so the icky Northern Crusaders were out but the Hansa Merchants were sort of OK. After all, they had overturned the feudal class and established the necessary preconditions for the next revolution, per Marx.*

To the surprise of religious researchers after 1989, paganism had survived. Not only survived, but continued probably almost uninterrupted since waaaaay back when. As nationalism grew and “not-Russian, not-Swedish, not-German”ness grew, paganism made more of an open return. Today, per the guidebooks and other things, paganism is going strong in the Baltics, especially Estonia.

That explains some of the patterns I’ve noticed in some genres of metal coming from that area. You’ve got the Norse neo-pagans (Viking), a few continental-Celtic neo-pagan groups, and then Baltic. Christianity, for some, is still an outside thing, not an “us thing” but one tied to unwelcome interlopers. Its … odd for me to wrap my head around, because I’m from a culture where faith is voluntary and has been since 1800 or so. So what if Christianity began as an offshoot of an older faith from a very different part of the world? Obviously, not everyone looks at it that way.

History is strange and people are stranger.

*If at this point you are scratching your head and/or rolling your eyes, I didn’t say that Marx was right, just that was the excuse/justification used to preserve and research the Hansa period in the eastern Baltic. Some of the East German books about the Hansa and how they demonstrate Marx’s laws of history are amusing, today.

A Stranger in Their Midst

It’s instinctive not to trust a stranger, especially one who appears from elsewhere, is not part of a known or expected group, and who does not have an obvious connection to a local. Is the person passing through going to elsewhere? Will he be a burden on the community? Is he a spy, or someone who is outside the law elsewhere and thus trouble? Can you learn from him, then send him elsewhere? What rights does he have, if any?

Many cultures have a law of hospitality for the apparently harmless stranger who is passing through. He gets food and shelter, provides information or entertainment in exchange, and is protected unless there is an overriding reason not to shield him. In turn he might have a duty to help his host, or at least to stay well clear of the fight. He is to leave after one to three nights. After that the rules change. If it was a city, he had to register with the authorities, stay in a designated area, be confirmed free of disease, and then leave. If trouble came, outside the walls he went, along with all other non-citizens. The guest was to pay promptly, not cause trouble, help if needed (fire), and leave promptly.

Merchants traveled in groups. They were known, had set places to stay, abided by local and caravan rules, and bought and sold in set areas. They also registered with the local authorities and paid taxes, then left. If illness was suspected, they might stay outside the walls for a set period of time until all were satisfied that no disease traveled with them. Again, they were known entities, even if the individuals were new to the place.

What about traveling craftsmen, like Harald Halfpaw and his journeyman? Not all trades were needed all the time. Stone masons, millwrights, went to where there was work for their skills. At the beginning of the story, Harald is known, has a contract, and is half-way through building a grist mill with two-thirds to go*. He has a temporary place in local society, anchored by his chief carpenter, who is related by marriage to one of the families in the area. Once the work is done, and Harald relocates, he’s going to have to start all over. The good news is that his chief carpenter gives him a contact and introduction. The bad news is that leaves everyone else. Even the contract holder, Count Aeldred, will have to slot Harald into society. Is he a servant of the count? Harald would say no, count might lean toward yes. Is he part of a caravan, or a guild member, or something else with a set role and place in Jerwood? No. Automatically he’s someone to be watched.

The medieval world was a harsh world, with thin survival margins some days. If you were outside the pool of “known” or “accepted stranger,” things might get Interesting. Just how interesting, especially for a man who walks into the middle of a potential fight, might determine if the count’s mill gets built on time, to budget.

*If you have ever built a complicated thing, like an airplane, you know exactly how this feels.

Not a Battle? Tollense, Assumptions, and the Past

Back in the late 1996, someone found an arm bone sticking out of a river bank in northeastern Germany. The police were called, and discovered a “mass casualty site” that dated to the Bronze Age. This … wasn’t supposed to be possible. Except over a hundred people and two horses were killed by violence inflicted by unfriendly people. The assumption shifted from “old cemetery” to “battlefield,” and that opened a whole can of worms. Who, back then, could organize that many people on two sides, and some from as far away as the Massif Central in France?

The location of the site. Creative commons fair use. Original source: https://broread.com/2020/10/26/battle-of-tollense-valley-4250-years-ago-was-a-massacre-of-1400-bronze-age-merchants/
The Tollensee in Mecklenberg-Vorpom. Creative Commons Fair use, original source: https://www.vorpommern.de/aktivitaeten-in-vorpommern/aktivurlaub/kanu-fahren/kanuinfo/die-tollense/

Except, what if it wasn’t a battle?

Of course it was a battle. Why else would you have a lot of men’s bodies left in a marshy stream valley with arrow points, stab wounds, skulls cleft open, and other things? That’s battle damage, so obviously someone fought someone else. Some of the men came from hundreds of kilometers away, which means … Well, now it gets more complicated. Why were they in this part of Europe, what were they doing besides fighting, and who organized the two or more groups?

But what if it wasn’t a battle? What if a large group of men and horses, perhaps women as well, were taking goods from here to there, along the only route through a rather rough part of the landscape, and got ambushed and robbed? After all, we know that a lot of trade was in progress in that part of the world, amber and furs from the Baltic going south, tin moving east and west, copper moving all over, beads and silks, olive oil, and other things moving north.

In other words, if someone wanted to get rich quick, attacking a caravan of traders might be the way to do it. It could also be political, so to speak, if the goods were going to be distributed to win support and followers. The route through the Tollense Valley had been improved, with a good ford over the stream that kept people out of the mire and allowed heavier loads to be moved. So you might have had a group of wealthy people, relatively unarmed or lightly armed, on a predictable route, and unable to flee easily from an ambush.

One thing that archaeologists observed is that the “soldiers” in the battle didn’t have the skeletal changes associated with archers, swordsmen, and other people trained for fighting. Instead, they had normal wear for people who carried heavy stuff and walked a lot. No evidence has been found thus far of any social or political organization of the kind that would lead to a true army, let alone two, not in northern Europe at that time. So … the original theory of a battlefield no longer fits what we now know.

Was there fighting? Yes. Was it a battle? Perhaps not. Assumptions don’t always fit the evidence, and vice versa. It will be interesting to see what new develops from further research.

https://www.science.org/content/article/slaughter-bridge-uncovering-colossal-bronze-age-battle

Meditation on Sunrise in Vienna’s Airport

I left the hotel at the tail end of night. As usual, the flight departed at 0600 or so, meaning by 0400 I needed to be at the Flughafen. I couldn’t see stars on the taxi ride out, because of the scattered low clouds and city lights. My brain was already fuzzy, and it was going to be a long day – 26 hours long.

By the time I checked in and waved a temporary (I hoped) farewell to my big suitcase, the sun had started to rise. Security was security, and it wasn’t until I purchased some soda and a magazine at a news stand, then returned to my gate, that I realized I had not spoken a word in English since the evening before. I opened the bottle and watched the clouds shifting color, grey to lavender pink as the sun rose well to the north. Colors flooded the terminal and the sky together, soft and flowing because of the humidity. I have yet to see a West Texas style sunrise or sunset in Europe, one with hard edges and sharp corners.

I glanced at the German magazine. I had yet to speak in English, although other people around me were. English, Hindi, something East Slavic, Czech, perhaps Italian over in the corner. I felt a bit of wonder and amazement that I had “gotten away with” operating completely in my second language. Even in Poland and especially in Moravia, German had been the fall-back when my Polish and Czech wasn’t good enough. Czech I could limp through despite not having formal lessons. I do better with a blend of spoken and written work, and the course I grabbed didn’t have written assignments or explain the whys of the language. I knew enough to suss out some of it, and I leaned on German and Latin. Czech has borrowed elements of both languages, making it an odd-speech-out compared to other Slavic languages. Polish … pretty much defeated me once past basic “How much is that?” and “More mineral water, please. Thank you.”

I tucked the magazine away, visited the lady’s room one last time, and got ready to board. Vienna to Fraport (Frankfurt), then Fraport to Dallas, thence to Amarillo, if everything went right and the weather cooperated. June weather in Texas can be … mildly interesting, as it had been at the start of the trip. There’s a reason I always build in a buffer day when outbound. I’d needed it. Now? First I had to navigate Fraport. After that it would be (relatively) easy. Even sleep deprived and a little dry.

Abandoned Places – Why Not Return?

Why do people not return to a place? Certain places – Jericho, Cahokia/St. Louis, Vienna, places in South Africa – have been inhabited for centuries and longer, leaving thousands of years of debris, old buildings, and traces of human presence. Others were abandoned and never rebuilt, lost save for archaeological finds or passing references in ancient texts and old manuscripts. Lost and abandoned places have an air of mystery about them, at least when you read about their stories, and spur all sorts of ideas ranging from the dourly practical to the phantasmagorical.

This bubbled to mind as I was reading Barry Cunliffe’s new book about the Sahara and the lands around it. Within the desert proper, people clung tenaciously to some locations, coming up with ways to adapt to the increasingly arid environment, only to leave everything not portable and never return. Why? What causes that?

Sometimes the reason is relatively clear once all the evidence is collected. Environmental history, documents, oral traditions, archaeology can give us information. In the case of places like Chaco Canyon in North America, the Medieval farms on Dartmoor and in the Scottish uplands, or the site I was reading about, changes in long term weather and climate patterns played a major role, with human action exacerbating the difficulties in some cases. When the Little Ice Age intensified in the early 1300s, land that had been marginal at the best of times could no longer be farmed. it was too wet and the weather too cold and harsh. As the population declined due to famine, then disease, people retreated to the better farmland, leaving the cold uplands for sheep or trees. The Black Death depopulated some villages. Later owners changed land use, or the place was overgrown so quickly that the memory of the place disappeared until the 20th Century.

Chaco Canyon is perhaps more typical of human history. A large population developed in the Colorado Plateau during the 1000s-1200s. People need food, fuel, and water. Of the three, fuel became the critical problem, with people traveling farther and farther for building wood and fire wood. When the droughts of the Little Ice Age came in the 1300s-1400s, it made things worse. Deforestation causes water to run off faster, leading to erosion and dropping ground water, which can starve streams. The people of Chaco relocated, then dispersed and relocated yet again. The cycle of find place – use resources – use up resources – crisis – move on has gone on since humans were hunters and gatherers. Cahokia in what is now Missouri deforested itself, then had crop failures made worse by the same Little Ice Age weather shifts, leading to it being abandoned.

In other cases, cultural changes or the arrival of new population groups seems to have led to abandonment. The reason for a place being inhabited goes away, or the old inhabitants flee/migrate/are driven away and the newcomers see no need for the old one. Some of the giant settlements of the Trypilia culture in what is now Ukraine and eastern Romania fit that description, as does perhaps Gobleki Tepe in Turkey.

When trade routes went away, so too did some of the communities that had existed to make use of that trade and assist with it. A number of the old Silk Road cities faded and died, their water systems no longer kept in repair, their reason for being now gone. There wasn’t sufficient reason for people to keep trying to make a living there, so the places went to ruin, all the useful bits and pieces carted off.

In the case of the Indus Valley civilization, the river left. Without water, and with a climate that was shifting so the region became drier and more seasonal, the reason for the cities disappeared. The arrival of the Indo-European speaking pastoralists may have contributed, since the Vedas record hostility between the Indo-Europeans and the settled urban dwellers. Some of the sites were later considered cursed, others just ignored until the British railway engineers mined them for bricks (much to the ire of later archaeologists.)

In the case of the Sahara settlements, trade shifted away, and the desert grew harsher. The combination proved too much for the little communities, and the people departed, moving south or north to where rain still fell and water could be found.