woad, tatooing and identity

GILLIAN CARR

WOAD, TATTOOING AND IDENTITY IN LATER IRON AGEAND EARLY ROMAN BRITAIN

Summary. This paper explores the archaeological evidence for the practiceof facial and corporeal dyeing, painting and tattooing in the later Iron Age andearly Roman period. The aim is to construct a hypothesis which explains how,why, when and by whom such pigments were worn. Although this hypothesisdiscusses woad-derived indigo, this is used mainly, although not exclusively,as an experimental tool, as no conclusive archaeological evidence exists whichreveals the identity of the ‘real’ pigment(s). Woad has also long held a placein the popular imagination as the source of the dye which the ancient Britonsused to paint themselves.

This paper explores the possibility that the cosmetic grinder was thefocal artefact used in body painting or tattooing, and was used for grindingand mixing body and face paint. It is suggested that, rather than being a‘Roman’-style tool for cosmetic application from the start, it may have begunlife as an artefact first used by the later Iron Age Britons for body painting andexpressing indigenous identities.

introduction

Described variously as pendant charms deriving their shape from the iron nose-bandsused for horses (Smith 1918); grooved pendants (Trett 1983); and a device used for grinding upmedicaments or cosmetics (Jackson 1985, 1993, forthcoming; Jackson and Thullier 1999; Steadand Rigby 1989), the cosmetic grinder is a small cast-bronze crescent-shaped object consisting,when complete, of two parts: a pestle and mortar. They date from the first century AD to thefifth century AD (although Jackson (1993, 167) states that there is no doubt that the type isRomano-British with its origins in the later Iron Age), and occur predominantly in the first andsecond centuries AD (Jackson 1985, 175). Cosmetic grinders range between 5–11cm in length(Jackson 1985, 168). Although the pestles are generally plain, the mortars are decorated witheither knobbed, zoomorphic, phallic or plain terminals. The type is exclusive to Britain, mostcommonly found in the south-east (Jackson 1985, 172); more recently, however, two exampleshave turned up in northern France, assumed either to have been traded from Britain or buriedwith a British immigrant (Jackson and Thullier 1999, 23–4).

Jackson interpreted the cosmetic grinder as an artefact used for grinding minerals foreye and face paints for the ‘Roman’-style practice of cosmetic application despite the fact thatthey are made in a non-Classical style and did not originate in the Roman world. His research

OXFORD JOURNAL OF ARCHAEOLOGY 24(3) 273–292 2005© Blackwell Publishing Ltd. 2005, 9600 Garsington Road, Oxford OX4 2DQ, UKand 350 Main Street Malden, MA 02148, USA. 273

showed that although their associations were with ‘less Romanised’ settlements, temple andgrave contexts (Jackson 1985, 172), there was no single or restricted sphere of use. Exploredhere is the idea that they were initially used for a more native practice – that they were part ofthe paraphernalia used in the application of woad-derived indigo.

Five observations suggest that cosmetic grinders were predominantly a non-‘Roman’artefact used for a purpose that pre-dates the Roman period:

1. Cosmetic grinders are found only in Britain and nowhere else in the Roman world (bar thetwo recent examples from Gaul).

2. Romans had their own tool for grinding cosmetics: the stone palette, many examples ofwhich are found in Britain.

3. Cosmetic grinders are made in a variety of styles such that no two are alike (although sub-types have now been identified). This is not a feature of Roman bronzes (Jackson 1985,169).

4. Cosmetic grinders are made in a native Romano-British and not a Classical style (Jackson1985, 168 and 170).

5. A ‘handful’ of cosmetic grinders date to before the Conquest (Jackson forthcoming and pers.comm.)

This ‘handful’ includes grinders from King Harry Lane, Hunsbury, Gussage All Saints,Hod Hill and Hockwold (Jackson 1985, nos. 1, 33, 59, 50–1). An example from Normanton leHeath in Leicestershire has also been published (Thorpe, Sharman and Clay 1994, 49) that‘suggests a late Iron Age origin for these sets’. Jackson warns us that the great majority arefound by metal detectorists and are, consequently, without context.

With an indigenous later Iron Age origin for the cosmetic grinder thus established, it isnow necessary to consider how these objects were used.

the method of woad processing

Although Hobbs (2003, 109) asserts that cosmetic grinders were not used to processwoad because it was a vegetable dye (and thus a liquid), he neglects to consider the pigmentindigo, which can be extracted from woad (Isatis tinctoria) plants. It would have been relativelystraightforward for people of the Iron Age to extract indigo from woad for tattooing. The onlyingredients needed were woad plants, water, and ammonia (perhaps in the form of stale urine).Buchanan (1987) outlines the simple recipe as follows:

1. Chop woad plants.2. Boil in water and leave to steep for an hour.3. Strain liquid and keep, but throw plant matter away.4. Add ammonia to the liquid until it reaches pH 9 or above.5. Stir liquid in air for 10–15 minutes until blue particles appear on top.6. Let particles settle for an hour or more and decant, leaving the sediment (or indigo) to dry

out.7. Powder the indigo for further use.

The cosmetic grinder would have been used in the final stages of woad processing togrind up the dried product. The woad-derived indigo would then have been in a form suitablefor use in either tattooing or body painting. The yield from woad is small (Plowright (1900)

WOAD, TATTOOING AND IDENTITY IN LATER IRON AGE AND EARLY ROMAN BRITAIN

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reports that half a kilogramme of one-month-old woad plants yields 2.4g of impure indigo), andthus consistent with the small amount of powder with which the pestle and mortar can cope.

It is suggested that the design of the cosmetic grinder and the decoration of the mortarterminals relate not only to the recipe needed to extract indigo from woad, but especially to theagent needed to bind the pigment to the body. The terminal designs include bovine and duck

GILLIAN CARR

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Figure 1Cosmetic grinders from Hockwold (© Copyright The British Museum).

heads (the binding agent in these cases being milk or egg whites, or perhaps the fats and juicesfrom cooking beef or duck); and also phallic designs (the binding agent being semen). Thephallic design also reflects a constituent of the recipe, i.e. ammonia, in the form of urine. Abinding agent of fat is an important consideration if the Britons, like the Gauls, went into battlenaked, as recorded by Diodorus Siculus (V, 29–30). This would have kept them insulated againstthe cold.

As well as a tool for powdering woad-derived indigo, the cosmetic grinder was probablyalso used as a mixing trough for the powder and binding agent (experimental work by the authorhas shown that thorough mixing is required to produce a good pigment). The pointed end of thepestle could then have been used for drawing delicate designs on the wearer, which could thenhave been pricked into the skin to make tattoos, or merely left as body paint. Trett (1983)remarked that the tip of the pestle from King Harry Lane was quite worn, suggesting that thispart of the pestle had been used for thorough grinding; Jackson (1993, 165) has also observedwear marks on many pestles and mortars. Alternatively, the length of the pestle could have beenused to smear the mixture onto the body. The use of the cosmetic grinder, rather than fingers,for grinding, mixing and painting emphasizes the special, magical properties which woad-derived indigo was perceived to possess (as discussed below). At no stage did the bodypaint/tattoo specialist need to ‘contaminate’ his or her skin with this powerful pigment or wastevaluable indigo powder by getting it on his or her hands.

Experiments by the author have shown that a very small amount of indigo powder (thearea of half a little-finger nail) goes a very long way when mixed with approximately a dessert-spoonful of the binding agent: enough to block-cover a couple of limbs. However, given thesmall capacity of the cosmetic grinder, perhaps intricate designs rather than block cover weremore important.

In the experiment outlined below, indigo powder was mixed with beef dripping, milk,water, egg yolk, egg white and semen and examined for the ease with which it mixed with thepowder, the consistency of the mixture, the colour of the mixture when dry, and the ease withwhich it was removed.



table 1

Results of experiments with woad and binding agents

Binding agent Colour with indigo on drying Consistency Ease of removal

Milk Grey Watery poster-paint Rubs off leaving a blue tingeBeef dripping Steel blue-grey Grease-paint; cools to Does not dry; stays waxy; needs

shoe-polish hot water and soap to removeconsistency whichcan be stored

Egg yolk Dark midnight blue/blue- Grease-paint, but more Dries slowly, then flakes/black inky glaze moist than beef brushes off easil

drippingEgg white Shiny grey-black glaze Watery poster-paint Rubs off entirely as a fine

powderSemen Dark blue-black/grey Similar to egg yolk Rubs off leaving a blue tingeSaliva Dark blue-black Watery Does not rub off readilyWater Dirty indigo blue Watery poster-paint Does not rub off readilyNone Deep midnight/indigo blue Chalk powder Rubs off leaving a blue tinge

These binding agents produce a variety of colours from steely grey-blue, throughintense midnight blue, to black, something which varied with amount of indigo used and colourof skin. Most effective as a body paint was the beef dripping, which cools to a consistency ofshoe-polish suggesting that, as it does not dry, it could be saved until it was next needed, unlikethe other binding agents. Some of the colours yielded were similar to those used in militarycamouflage palettes. Although the modern soldier’s aim is to break up the face, make it appeartwo-dimensional and obscure the outline, some colours, such as the steel blue-grey producedby mixing indigo and beef dripping, would render the face almost invisible in certain lightingconditions (Lt. Patrick Larkin, pers. comm.). Because indigo produces a range of light and darkblue, black and grey colours when mixed with different binding agents, we can imagine that thenative Britons would have had a choice of colours from which to choose, depending on theoccasion (such as battle or ritual ceremony), time of day, year, or weather conditions.

There are other ways in which the native Britons could have used the woad plant toturn themselves entirely blue, rather than making indigo for tattooing or body painting. Theycould either have produced enough indigo to paint the entire body, a time-consuming business,or they could have set up a woad vat, bath or cauldron into which a person could climb. Residueanalysis of such vessels as cauldrons is long overdue; where the procedure has been applied,the results have been most interesting, e.g. the discovery of mead in the cauldron at Hochdorf(Körber-Grohne 1980, 250, 1985, 121–2).

Although we do not know how the woad vat would have been set up in the Iron Age,evidence for the medieval method has survived and has been outlined by Hurry (1930). The aimof the woad vat was to produce a reduction reaction, which could reduce the oxidized andinsoluble blue indigo into a soluble white form, which turns blue on exposure to air. Only inthe soluble form can it bind with the protein in the skin. These bonds prevent the indigo frombeing washed off skin and, indeed, fabric dyed with indigo. It should be noted that indigo powderin the insoluble (but miscible), oxidized form will wash off, as it has not bonded with the proteinin the skin.

A person dipped into the woad vat at this stage would then be dyed blue. However, onfirst emerging from the woad vat, the person would be a dirty brown colour because of the contentsof the mixture. They would only turn blue after re-oxidation, which takes a few minutes. Thespontaneous change of colour after a few minutes would have seemed a magical process to theBritons, and would have added to the perception of woad as a magical plant. In the discussion offabric dyeing, Plowright (1901–2) noted that fabric turned varying shades of blue, green or greydepending on which alkaline agents were added and depending on the length or number of timesthey were dipped into the woad vat. We can assume that the results would be similar for skin.

archaeological evidence for tattooing and body painting

What evidence do we have that tattooing and body painting using indigo or any othersubstance took place? There are five main sources of data:

1. Classical authors.2. Traces of pigments or plant matter used for body painting or tattooing.3. Bog bodies such as Lindow Man that may have traces of pigments on the skin.4. Coin evidence for facial tattoos.5. Paraphernalia for woad processing.

GILLIAN CARR


Classical authors

Some Classical authors suggest that the Britons used tattoos, body paints and dyes.Within their writings are clues concerning which pigments were used, how they were applied,and who used them. If it were not for these accounts we would have little idea that the nativeBritons practised body painting at all: theirs is the only ‘true’ evidence we have. However, we should be aware that Classical accounts of ‘barbarians’ and their practices were oftenexaggerated to emphasize their ‘otherness’; Stewart (1995) has suggested that Classical authorsare likely to have used certain stock literary topoi or stereotypic themes to emphasize Britishbarbarity and lack of civilization, and body painting is possibly one of these. As Jones (1987)reminds us, for the Greeks and Romans, to be tattooed was degrading and was used on runawayor delinquent slaves.

Caesar reports that the custom of covering the body with vitrum, later interpreted aswoad (i.e. woad-derived indigo), applied to all Britons and not just to the civilized inhabitantsof Kent (De Bello Gallico V, xiv). However, some (e.g. Pyatt et al. 1991) argue that had Caesarencountered other blue-painted warriors in battle, he would surely have mentioned them eachtime. This is not necessarily true. Caesar may have felt that, having made his initial descriptionof the Britons, there was no further need to describe every new group he met.

There are also the inherent problems of translation to take into account beyond thepossible mistranslation of vitrum as woad, something which dates from the sixteenth centurywhen the plant was a popular source of blue dye (Thirsk 1985). Vitrum also means ‘glass’or ‘crystal’ in Latin, suggesting that vitrum is crystalline. Caesar’s report that ‘all the Britonsdye themselves with woad, which produces a blue colour’ is a translation from the Latin: ‘Omnes vero se Britanni vitro inficiunt, quod caeruleum efficit colorem’. A better rendering,therefore, would perhaps be ‘dye themselves with glazes’, indicating body paint, or perhaps‘infect themselves (or ‘work into themselves’) with glass’, implying that glass was used to prickthe skin for tattooing. This latter translation may even refer to a description of a scarificationritual.

On the other hand, it would seem that there is less room for doubt about the link betweenvitrum and woad. Vitruvius (VII, 14, 2) tells us that, because of the scarcity of indigo, stuccopainters ‘make a dye of chalk from Selinus, or from broken beads, along with woad (which theGreeks call isatis), and obtain a substitute for indigo’. ‘Woad’ was chosen as the translation ofVitruvius’ term ‘vitrum’, as we might expect, but we are also given the Greek term ‘isatis’. Pliny(20, 59) tells us a ‘third kind (of wild lettuce) growing in the woods is called isatis (ísatiV).Its leaves pounded up with pearl-barley are good for wounds. A fourth kind is used by dyers ofwools. Its leaves would be like those of wild sorrel, were they not more numerous and darker.By its root or leaves it staunches bleeding . . .’ Not only, then, is isatis, like woad, good forwounds and staunching bleeding (as discussed later) but, when compared, the leaves of thecommon sorrel (Rumex acetosa) are indeed similar to those of the woad plant (Isatis tinctoria),just as Pliny indicated; both plants have leaves that are arrow-shaped and clasp the stem. Finally,a closely related plant is used for dyeing. This, then, would seem to back up the link betweenvitrum and Isatis tinctoria or woad.

Other Classical authors referred to ‘woad-blue Britain’ (Ovid, Amores II, 16, 39),although the literal translation of Ovid’s viridesque Britannos is ‘green Britons’. This does notnecessarily suggest a copper pigment, as woad dye can also often give a green colour (Plowright1901–2). Pomponius Mela (de Chorographia III, 6, 51) also mentioned vitrum, calling it a dye.



Pliny (Natural History XXII, ii) was the only author to suggest that a vegetable dye (glastum)was used by the Britons to stain the body (see Appendix). He remarked that this dye made thewearers resemble Ethiopians, which generated a minor debate over why the Romans imaginedthe Ethiopians were blue. However, woad can produce a black precipitate if left for too long,and can, therefore, turn skin black with over-exposure to the woad vat (Plowright 1901–2).Plowright also remarked that the woad gatherers’ hands were often black after harvesting theplant. It is likely, however, that Pliny, in discussing glastum, was merely describing a differentdye-plant altogether.

While Claudian, Herodian and Solinus seem to be describing tattooed designs, Pliny,Caesar, Martial and Pomponius Mela appear to be describing the application of a single colourover the whole body. Chadwick (1958, 176) suggested that it was possible that ‘the people ofBritain, and especially of North Britain, made use of a plant which, among other uses, servedas a disinfectant, and which they inserted into their wounds, thereby producing an indelibly dyedscar’. Some such explanation would combine the previously discussed description by Caesarwith references to people ‘marked by iron’ such as mentioned by Claudian, perhaps meaningsword wounds or branding, and also with Tacitus’ description of ‘every man wearing thedecorations he had earned’ meaning either coloured battle scars or tattoos applied to mark heroicdeeds in battle.

It is possible that vitrum and woad were believed to have magical, medical properties.In fact, woad has anti-bacterial properties (as does urine), and can also be used to staunchbleeding. Anecdotal evidence suggests that it also has soothing properties. To wear it into battlewould ensure that any wounds received would be less likely to turn septic and would be lesspainful; it is not surprising that body dye from woad was thought to render the wearer invincible.If we also remember that tattooing was an unhygienic, dangerous, and possibly even fatalpractice in antiquity, the use of a pigment derived from the woad plant may have rendered thepractice safer.

Pigments and plants

Our second source of evidence for tattooing or body painting can be found in the archaeological traces of plants such as woad or other potential vegetable pigments. Theearliest example of woad in Britain was found at Dragonby. The yellow dye, weld, was alsofound at the same site. As woad is not indigenous to this country, van der Veen et al. (1993)suggested that it was deliberately introduced and cultivated for its blue dye. A total of 18fragments (a mixture of uncharred whole seeds and fragments of seed pods) were found in alater Iron Age pit; however, as the sampling was described as ‘unusual and outstanding for itstime’ (van der Veen 1996, 197), it may be that woad existed on other sites but has beenoverlooked. Indeed, at the turn of the century, Plowright (1901–2) mentioned that theunpublished excavation of a barrow at Sheen, near Hartington in north Staffordshire, had yieldeda considerable amount of woad-indigo in lumps and powder; however, these have not survivedand no proper account of the find has been made. Plowright suggested that the barrow belongedto a woad dyer.

It is likely, however, that whilst macrofossil remains of woad have been overlooked inthe archaeological record through non-recognition or inadequate sampling, there are goodreasons why such remains would be scarce. The parts of the plant used for dyeing (i.e. the leaves)are only likely to survive under exceptional preservational conditions, such as the waterlogged

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occupation deposits in tenth-century York, for example (Tomlinson 1985; Kenward and Hall1995). Fruits and seeds (as found at Dragonby) are indirect evidence for the use of the plant indyeing and rarely survive. Moreover, the pollen of woad is indistinguishable from that of othermembers of the Cruciferae family (Allan Hall, pers. comm.), of which the humble cabbage isalso a member.

Preserved bodies

Our third source of evidence for tattooing and body painting lies in traces of pigmenton the skin of bog bodies. The warriors found preserved in Siberian permafrost at Pazyryk(Rudenko 1970) give us some idea of what might once have been a common British mediumof decoration.

The translation of vitrum as woad was questioned by Pyatt et al. (1991), who examinedLindow Man. Their results suggested that clay-based copper and other pigments were appliedto the body (Pyatt et al. 1991, 61). These results, together with the absence of any archaeologicalevidence for woad in the Iron Age (until the excavation of Dragonby a few years later), led theauthors to suggest that woad was not the origin of the blue paint to which Caesar referred.

In their search for a copper pigment on the skin of Lindow Man, Cowell and Craddock,in a later paper (1995, 75), suggested that ‘the amount of copper on the skin of Lindow Man isnot of sufficient magnitude to provide convincing evidence that the copper was deliberatelyapplied as paint, especially as the epidermis, the original surface of the skin, which would havecarried the putative paint, is lost’. So the question of whether Lindow Man indulged in bodypainting remains open.

Coins and facial tattoos

The fourth strand of evidence comes from coins. In 1963, Thomas (1963, fig. 15 andappendix II) examined the depictions of human faces with tattooed cheeks and necks found inearly Gallic coinage dating generally within the later third and second centuries BC (see Fig.2). The various tribes to which the coins are attributed lie roughly in a broad area from the Parisbasin to Normandy and Brittany. Although it is possible that some of the marks could be symbolsadded to an otherwise blank space, he remarks that ‘collectively there are enough examples toleave little doubt that a cheek mark of some kind on a Celt was nothing very odd, at least innorth-west Gaul’ (ibid., 92). Thomas believes that it was likely that facial and probably corporealtattoos of this nature were employed in southern Britain at the same time; however, images offacial tattoos on British coins have not been found.

Paraphernalia for woad processing

The final potential source of evidence for tattooing or woad-derived indigo productionlies in its associated paraphernalia. Production of powdered indigo for tattooing lies one stepfurther along the production line than simply the production of indigo from the woad plant.There are, therefore, two types of artefacts to be considered: those that were used in the generalproduction of indigo, and those that were involved specifically in tattooing.

Potential paraphernalia that may have been used (although not uniquely associated) inthe production of indigo include the firedog, the cauldron and the strainer bowl. Those involved



in tattooing include the needle or pin, possibly the razor and/or tweezers, and the cosmeticgrinder (see below).

The firedog was used to support the logs of the fire upon which the cauldron was setto boil the woad mixture. Its bovine heads are very similar to those on some terminals of thecosmetic grinder, a point which did not escape the notice of Jackson (1985, 168). The mostcommon context of deposition for firedogs is richly-furnished Welwyn-type burials, such asthose at Welwyn A and B (Smith 1911–12), Mount Bures (Smith 1852), Stanfordbury A (Dryden1845), and Baldock (Stead and Rigby 1986).

Over half of all firedogs are found in Welwyn-type burials, and over 75 per cent are found in ritual contexts (Saunders 1977). The bronze strainer bowl, which could have been used for separating the woad plants from the liquid, is also found in similar contexts.Examples include the rich burials at Welwyn Garden City (Stead 1967), Stanway in Colchester(Crummy 1997), and Santon Downham in Suffolk (Smith 1909). If one were to suppose

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Figure 2Facial tattoos from Gallic coinage (after Thomas 1963, 92, fig. 15).

that artefacts with bovine heads, such as the cosmetic grinder and firedog, were linked as woad-related paraphernalia, then the style of the unusual metal bowls from sites such as Lydneyand Ham Hill, with their bovine-head escutcheons, indicates that they could also have been involved in the processing of woad among other things. They could have been used forholding several batches of a binding agent mixed with woad-derived indigo, ready for paintingthe body.

Items potentially used in tattooing include the razor, which could have been used forshaving the body and face in preparation for tattooing or body painting, and tweezers, whichcould have been used for removing individual hairs. It should be noted that hair removal isnecessary for tattooing, no matter which part of the body is tattooed. Hairs can divert a needlefrom its path or interfere with the flow of ink.

Also included in the paraphernalia for tattooing is the needle, some of which may havehad a dual use – for sewing and tattooing. A bone needle stained blue-green has been found atDragonby (Greep 1996). Other potential tattooing instruments found in Britain include the setof three bronze ‘forks’, riveted together, from Richborough (Cunliffe 1968, 105 and pl. XLVII,211). These are very similar to the opened out tattooing needle shown in Hambly (1925, 273).Six thin, toothed bronze plates were found at Chalton, Hampshire (Frere 1957), similar in designto modern Maori tattooing chisels but larger and with fewer teeth. Multi-toothed tattooinginstruments are used for designs made up of many parallel lines.

Techniques of tattooing include drawing the design on the skin with pigment and pricking over it with a thorn or sharp object or colouring a thread with powdered pigmentand drawing it under the skin with a needle, such as was practised among the Thompson Indiansof British Columbia (Teit 1927–8). The Britons could have carried out either of these methodsof tattooing. Solinus and Claudian are the only Classical authors to hint that tattooing took place.Claudian refers to skin ‘marked by iron’, and Solinus refers to skin ‘drinking in’ the dye. It isentirely possible that many methods of body painting and tattooing were used at the same time.

the changing role of cosmetic grinders through time

In order to understand fully the role of the cosmetic grinder in later Iron Age/earlyRoman Britain, it is necessary to consider the potential users of such an artefact and their reasonsfor use.

The Roman/native dichotomy: who are we talking about?

This paper has referred to ‘native Britons’ and the ‘Roman’-style practice of cosmeticapplication. These terms, along with the concept of ‘Romanization’, are becoming rapidlyobsolete in the discussion of the social processes of later Iron Age Britain onwards. An overviewof the literature of the last 15 years relating to the controversial concept of ‘Romanization’is outside the scope of this paper, but can be readily accessed in the proceedings of TRAC, the annual Theoretical Roman Archaeology Conference. It will suffice here to outline a brief theoretical discussion of the concepts of ‘Roman’ and ‘native’, or ‘Romanized’ and‘unRomanized’.

These problematic categories have been discussed by many (e.g. Cooper 1996; Barrett1997; Freeman 1993; Hill 2001; Hingley 1997). They have also been criticized by Webster(1997a) as an unhelpful polarization of a complex spectrum of interactions. Such categories



were unlikely to have been so clear-cut. The terms ‘native’ and ‘Roman’ imply two opposinghomogeneous, static and monolithic groups with an internally homogeneous material cultureand identity; the archaeological record clearly shows that this was not the case. Identity iscomplex, and does not remain static throughout a person’s life – it can and does change.

Webster later developed her theory of ‘creolization’ as a replacement for the problematicterm ‘Romanization’ and in order to place earlier work within a new framework (2001).Creolization involves, by its nature, a discussion of hybrid identities. In order to discuss theseidentities, we previously needed to label them, which inevitably led to descriptions of ‘Romans’and ‘natives’. Roman Britain comprised a mixture of hybrid (or might we label them‘creolized’?) and heterogeneous identities, cultures and counter-cultures.

The changing role of body art through time

At a later point in their history, cosmetic grinders appear to owe elements of their useto both traditions. While they were indigenous in design (the terminals are described as being‘Celtic’ or Iron Age images by Jackson 1985, 168 and 170), it has been supposed that they wereused for the ‘Roman’-style application of cosmetics, as discussed above. It is true that they wereused throughout the Roman period and have been found in association with toilet instrumentsin Cheapside, London (Jackson 1993, 166). For Jackson, this association confirmed theirconnection with toilet and cosmetic paraphernalia. While they may, indeed, have been used for‘Roman’-style cosmetic application later on in the Roman period, perhaps by women, andperhaps using mineral pigments, it must be asked why these artefacts occur in the archaeologicalrecord only in the later Iron Age/early Roman period if we assume that body painting or tattooingwas a tradition with a greater antiquity. To answer this, we must return to the discussion of thepurpose of cosmetic grinders. They were used, it is argued here, for grinding a pigment and formixing with binding agents ready for painting on the face or body. These designs were eitherleft as painted images or pricked into the skin and turned into tattoos. Thus, we have art workwhich is either permanent or easily washed off. This can be compared to the earlier practice ofbody dyeing or staining, which would take days or weeks to wear off, and would not requirethe use of a cosmetic grinder. A model can, thus, be put forward which describes a change inthe practice of corporeal or facial artificial pigmentation over time, from block-colour dyeingor staining, perhaps with plants (which, incidentally, can also be performed using the juice ofred berries, many of which turn blue with the addition of ammonia in the form of stale urine)in earlier periods of the Iron Age, to painting or tattooing in the later Iron Age/period of conquest,and perhaps even a change in use of the cosmetic grinder to ‘Roman’-style cosmetic applicationlater in the Roman period. How are we to explain this change in use?

To understand clearly the change in use over time, we need to relate it to the peoplewho would have practised body painting, tattooing or dyeing. In earlier periods of the Iron Age,when body staining or dyeing might have been practised using plant-based pigments, a cauldronof, perhaps, woad, acting as a woad vat, would have contained enough liquid for immersion andcoverage of most of the inhabitants of a village or farmstead, perhaps for certain ceremonies orfor going into battle. This would also fit in with the kind of communal identity or egalitarianismthat is currently being suggested for middle Iron Age societies (Hill 1996). Later on, during theperiod of conquest, it would seem that the practice changed to facial and/or corporeal tattooingor painting, using the cosmetic grinder and, perhaps, woad-derived indigo. It seems likely thatthe use of indigo powder could have been tightly controlled by a small number of people. Not

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only do woad plants yield only a small amount of indigo, but the cosmetic grinder is a relativelyrare item – although not as rare as was previously thought; to date over 600 have been foundin Britain (Jackson forthcoming). The pestle and mortar elements of cosmetic grinders havesuspension loops so that they can be worn, perhaps on a thong, around the neck or from a belt.This sense of ownership is also reflected in one of the more frequent contexts of deposition ofthe cosmetic grinder, the grave (Jackson 1985, 172), although the evidence also points to nosingle or restricted sphere of use (Jackson 1993, 167). It must be remembered, however, thatonly a small number of all recorded cosmetic grinders have a known context, the majority ofthem being odd finds or metal-detector discoveries. The depositional context of the grave reflectsthe perceived ‘power’ of the cosmetic grinder: the only ‘safe’ way to dispose of it was to takeit out of circulation by burying it with a certain individual, presumably the tattooist or personwho had the right to wear tattoos, rather than passing it down through the generations.

Interestingly, other types of postulated equipment for woad-derived indigo production,such as the firedog, cauldron and strainer bowl, are also most commonly found in graves, againlinking ownership of production to certain people. The ownership of woad paraphernalia,including the cosmetic grinder, is likely to have been carried over into ownership of certaintattoo designs, whereby certain families or people may have owned the right to paint/tattoo acertain design on to the body. This design may be reflected in the cosmetic grinders themselves,both in their terminals and bodies. The bodies are sometimes decorated with zigzag grooves,triangular cells, or enamelled decorations in red, blue, green or yellow (Jackson 1985, 169). Theindividuality of grinders is also emphasized by Jackson (ibid. and 1993, 168).

The ownership of woad processing and the recipe for making the woad vat, thepowdered woad-derived indigo, and the binding agents are all likely to have been guarded asesoteric knowledge. Thus, to wear indigo or tattoos (or a cosmetic grinder) was to displayownership of that knowledge to other people. Because of the restricted sphere of use of thecosmetic grinder and the paraphernalia associated with body painting and tattooing, and becauseof the small amount of pigment with which the grinder was able to cope, it is likely that thiswas a minority practice or restricted to certain members of a community or was used only oncertain restricted occasions, such as tattooing at certain rites of passage. Unlike body dyeingwith a woad vat, the powder in a cosmetic grinder would only be enough to tattoo one or twopeople, and the choice of who those people were was unlikely to have been a random one.

Why would people have wanted to wear face or body paint or tattoos in the later IronAge/early Roman period? What caused the change from body dyeing? This question can bestbe answered by considering changing concepts of identity; obviously, painted or tattooed imageshave the capacity to convey more information about the wearer’s identity than all-over bodystaining for certain ritual, social or martial occasions. The period of conquest was a time of fluxand social change. Jundi and Hill (1998) suggest that one of the reasons why the humble broochbecame such a ubiquitous item at this time is because gender, and social and cultural identitieswere becoming increasingly fluid and, after the Roman Conquest, dress and appearance andeven the brooch may have been an important way to differentiate between these identities. Itcan be suggested that the cosmetic grinder was an artefact which also facilitated the expressionof identity.

There is an important difference between artefacts associated with identity creation,expression and bodily grooming (such as brooches and toilet instruments) and the cosmeticgrinder. Face and body painting and tattooing were very definitely not a ‘Roman’ practice. Assuch, it could be argued that the desire to paint and tattoo oneself in this period was an act of



resistance towards acquiring any kind of ‘Roman’-style or even hybrid Romano-British identity.One may argue that to tattoo oneself was a more active form of resistance than merely paintingoneself. One can be washed off and the other cannot; this would be ideal if some Romano-Britons moved in ‘mixed’ social circles. Body art may have acted as a private joke among theBritons, a hidden discourse, signalled among themselves by acts such as casually rolling up asleeve.

There are other reasons why tattooing might have been popular as a practice at the timeof the initial invasion, battles with and conquest by the Romans. Tattooing is a proof of courage.If a person is brave enough to undergo tattooing, then they will make a good warrior. If certaintattoos were applied to those skilled in battle, then to courage and bravery we can add heroism.Although tattoos may have symbolized these things to the Britons, and they might have expectedsuch marks of valour to intimidate their enemies in battle, to the Romans, such symbols wouldmerely have marked the Britons as ‘barbarians’.

Body art may have carried other messages. If we consider the use of the phallic-terminalcosmetic grinder to powder the pigment, the use of semen as a binding agent, and the action ofthe ‘male’ (pestle) and ‘female’ (mortar) parts of the cosmetic grinder rubbing together (Jackson,pers. comm.), then we can see how male fertility and virility were also bound up in body paintingand tattooing.

If animals were painted on the body, as indicated by Solinus, then these may have beenspirit helpers or guardian spirits who would come to the aid of the wearer in battle. Alternatively,by painting images of animals on their bodies, the Britons may have hoped to endow themselveswith the power of those animals. The zoomorphic terminals of some cosmetic grinders, such asthose which depict horned cattle or bulls, may echo these animal designs.

In summary, we can begin to build up a picture of tattooing (and, to some extent, bodydyeing before it) as a practice which was bound up in both a belief in its magical and medicalproperties as well as its ability openly and visually to display and construct the masculinequalities of the warrior (cf. Treherne 1995) such as heroism, courage, bravery, virility andfertility. To show such symbols of male strength would have been important in times of battleif or when the Britons went into the field naked and, from our perspective but almost certainlynot from theirs, vulnerable.

It is possible that face and corporeal painting and tattooing, perhaps with woad-derivedindigo, during the period of conquest was actually quite a short-lived practice. As most of thecosmetic grinders date to the first and second centuries AD, and were in use until the fifth centuryAD, it is possible that their use gradually changed. The unequivocal association of a cosmeticgrinder with a set of toilet instruments from Cheapside in London, dating to AD 100–120(Jackson 1993), suggests that by this period, ‘Roman’-style bodily grooming and cosmetics wenthand-in-hand (Hobbs 2003, 109), unless the person who used these artefacts was cultivating ahybrid identity.

This apparently rapid change in practice would not have been adopted by everyone; itis possible that many people continued to express their identities through the use of pigmentsin a more pre-Roman style throughout the Roman period. However, those who began to adoptthe more ‘Roman’-style (or, more accurately, Romano-British) practice of cosmetic application,perhaps learned from the wives of ‘Roman’ soldiers (who may well have been from areas ofthe Roman empire outside the Italian peninsula), were probably doing little more thansubstituting one set of pigments and colours for another, even if the ‘designs’ on their faces wererather different than before. Some societies who practise facial tattooing, such as the Maoris,

GILLIAN CARR


do it for reasons of ‘beautification’ as well as for identity expression, so the purposes of facepainting would not have changed substantially.

We cannot escape the assumption that cosmetic application was associated mainly withwomen (and men of dubious masculinity in Rome, if Martial is to be believed) and, while wecannot be sure that this was the case in Roman Britain, it is possible that the practice of bodyand face painting shifted from the realm of men (or both genders) to women in this period. Oneof the ways in which we can understand this is to suggest that the pigment and the artefact (andperhaps the designs) each communicated something different about gender identity. If theesoteric knowledge of woad-derived indigo production was in the hands of men at the time ofconquest, and men and women did not differentiate themselves along gender lines by their useof body paint, and if the early Roman period was a time when the number of identities (includinggender identities) multiplied, women could have been distinguishing themselves and makinggender statements by the use of new pigments, and thus may have moved away from traditionalpractices. This would imply that men and women both used cosmetic grinders but with differentpigments/for different purposes in the Roman period; however, as it has been suggested thatcosmetic grinders were already associated with ‘Roman’-style practices of grooming, how arewe to account for what the men were doing? If the cosmetic grinder came to be associated withwomen, because they needed to grind up their mineral pigments for cosmetics (thus making thecosmetic grinder a ‘creolized artefact’, cf. Webster 2001, an idea more fully explored in Carrforthcoming a), the men might have begun to reject the cosmetic grinder because of its growingfemale associations and the growing difference in gender identities. This is not to put negativeconnotations on ‘being female’ in Roman Britain; this would simply reinforce the outdated viewof women as second class citizens in this society (Baker 2003). We have yet to comprehendfully the cultural understanding of what it meant to be a woman in this period; it is possible,however, that the cosmetic grinder played a role in the creation of gender identity.

conclusion

This paper questions the current assumption that the cosmetic grinder was used solelyfor the ‘Roman’-style practice of facial cosmetic application as proposed by Jackson (1985 and1993). Instead, a model is put forward which outlines the changing role of corporeal and facialdyeing, tattooing and painting through time. It is suggested that the practice changed fromdyeing or staining in the middle Iron Age for expressing communal identities at certainoccasions, to painting or tattooing using the cosmetic grinder in the later Iron Age and earlyRoman period for purposes of creating and expressing individual identity. One of the manypossible identities expressed at this time could have been an overtly indigenous one, one whichexpressed resistance to the new authorities. It would thus have made sense to use a tool (thecosmetic grinder) with stylistic origins in the Iron Age, rather than switch to a new pigment-grinding instrument such as the stone palette.

Further, it is suggested that the role of the cosmetic grinder changed to become a hybridor ‘creolized’ Romano-British artefact in the Roman period when it was used by women forfacial cosmetic application for purposes of expressing gender identity.

Although such interpretations must remain speculative, more information can be teasedfrom the data once all known cosmetic grinders are published (Jackson forthcoming). Becausethe majority of cosmetic grinders are without context, much crucial contextual information



will still be missing. Regional typologies and patterns of deposition may still be forthcoming.It may, for instance, be possible to link certain cosmetic grinder types/terminal designs withcertain age and gender groups by examining the burial contexts where available, or to datecosmetic grinders by terminal design. It would be interesting, for example, if the phallic-terminalgrinders proved to be among the earliest, before cosmetic grinders moved into the sphere offemale use, or even if they dated to a time when women were beginning to appropriate them,as if to reassert a male identity. It is also possible that the female equivalent was the grinderwith the (deliberately?) ambiguous and stylized bovine/crescent moon terminal (e.g. Jackson1985, 185, fig. 7, 69); did the crescent moon make reference to female fertility and even the useof menstrual blood as a binding agent?

One further important avenue for future research of all new grinders should includesystematic residue analysis and/or, as Jackson (1993, 168) advises, an active search for tracesof pigments by anyone who excavates a cosmetic grinder, especially if it is found in a grave.These remain the only methods of determining the contents of cosmetic grinders and shouldform part of a programme of continued study. Until then, we can but tentatively teaseinformation from the existing data and put forward hypothetical models.

GILLIAN CARR


PRE-CONQUEST Body staining/dyeing

(wears off in weeks; worn in battle or at ceremonies) Communal/group identity

Used by both sexes?

TIME OF CONQUEST

AND

EARLY POST-CONQUEST Tattooing Body painting Permanent Washes off Individual identity Individual identity Resistance Used by both sexes?

ROMAN PERIOD

INCREASING TIME

ëRoman ’-style cosmetic application Gender identity Used by women

Figure 3Diagram of change in use of the cosmetic grinder through time

Acknowledgements

This paper comes from a chapter of my Ph.D. thesis (Carr 2000 and forthcoming b). An earlierdraft of this paper was read at the 1998 Sheffield Iron Age Research Seminar, and the 1999 Dyes in Historyand Archaeology conference in Brussels; it has been improved by helpful comments from both audiences.I would like to thank the British Museum and The Archaeological Journal for letting me reproduceillustrations and photographs. Thanks also to Professor Philip John from the Reading UniversityDepartment of Plant Sciences for his help in answering my questions about indigo and dyeing processes,for checking the dyeing chemistry, and for sending me samples of woad powder; to Ralph Jackson fordiscussing cosmetic grinders with me at an early stage of my thesis; to Allan Hall at York University forchecking the archaeobotany; to Chris Knüsel, Simon Stoddart and Paul Sealey for their helpful commentsand suggestions on an earlier version of this paper; and to Lieutenant Patrick Larkin for advice on armycamouflage practices and for being the guinea pig in my woad experiments.

Hughes HallMortimer Road

Cambridge CB4 8RX

APPENDEX

Author and reference Date Quote

Caesar, De Bello Gallico V, xiv mid-1st c. BC ‘All the Britons dye their bodies with woad (vitrum), whichproduces a blue colour, and this gives them a moreterrifying appearance in battle.’

Ovid, Amores II, 16, 39 25 BC+ ‘I can’t think this is my home, this healthy Sulmo, my birthplace, my ancestral countryside, but wastes of Scythia or woad-blue Britain (viridesque Britannos) or the wild rocks Prometheus’ red blood dyed.’

Propertius, Elegies II, xviiiD, late 1st c. BC ‘Do you still in your madness imitate the painted Britons 1–4 and play the wanton with foreign dyes upon your head?

All beauty is best as nature made it: Belgic colour is shameful on a Roman face. If some woman has stained her forehead with azure dye, is azure beauty on that account to be desired?’

Pomponius Mela, de c. AD 43 ‘(Britain) bears peoples and kings of peoples, but all areChorographia III, 6, 51 uncivilized, and the further away they are from the

continent, the more they are acquainted with its other blessings: so much that, rich only in livestock and their territory – it is uncertain whether as an embellishment or for some other reason – they dye their bodies with vitrum.’

Martial, Epigrams XI, LIII AD 98 ‘Claudia Rufina, though she is sprung from the sky-blue Britons, how she possesses the feelings of the Latin race!’

Tacitus, Agricola 29 AD 98 ‘Aready more than 30,000 men could be seen, and still they came flocking to the colours – all the young men, and famous warriors whose old age was fresh and green, every man wearing the decorations he had earned.’

Pliny, Naturalis Historia 1st c. AD ‘In Gaul there is a plant like plantain, called glastum; withXXII, ii it the wives of the Britons, and their daughters-in-law,

stain all the body, and at certain religious ceremonies march along naked, with a colour resembling that of theEthiopians.’



Author and reference Date Quote

Solinus, Collectanea Rerum early 3rd c. AD ‘The area is partly occupied by barbarians on whose Memorabilium 22, 12 bodies, from their childhood upwards, various forms of

living creatures are represented by means of cunningly wrought marks; and when the flesh of the person has been deeply branded, then the marks of the pigment get larger as the man grows, and the barbaric nations regard it as the highest pitch of endurance to allow their limbs to drink in as much of the dye as possible through the scars which record this.’

Herodian III, xiv, 7 AD 208 ‘They also tattoo their bodies with various patterns and pictures of all sorts of animals. Hence the reason why they do not wear clothes, so as not to cover the pictures on their bodies.

Claudian II, Poem on Stilicho’s AD 395 ‘Next spoke Britain, clad in the skin of some Caledonian Consulship II.247 beast, her cheeks marked with iron, while a sea-green

mantle giving the illusion of the swell of the ocean, rippled over her foot-prints.’

Claudian II, De Bello Gothico, AD 402 ‘Next (came) the legion that had been stationed in remote416–18 Britain, that had bridled the wild Irish, and, as the Pict

lay dying, had gazed upon the lifeless forms, marked by iron.’

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