Were there camels in medieval Britain? A brief note on Bactrian camels and dromedaries in fifteenth-century Kent

The following brief note is concerned with an intriguing fifteenth-century reference to both Bactrian camels and dromedaries (aka Arabian camels) in England, examining both the context of these specific animals in late medieval Kent before moving on to look at the wider evidence for the presence of camels in medieval Britain and Ireland.

King Arthur riding a camel on a glass roundel of c. 1500; click here for a larger version of this picture (image: Met Museum).

Previous posts on here have discussed the archaeological and textual evidence for the presence and use of camels in Roman and early medieval Europe, but have only touched on their presence in medieval Britain and Ireland. The prompt for the present discussion is an intriguing reference in the fifteenth-century work known as John Stone's Chronicle, f. 78b:

In the year of the Lord 1466, on the twelfth day of the month of December, namely, on the vigil of St. Lucy the Virgin, there came to Canterbury [gap in text] the Lord Patriarch of Antioch, who, in honor of the king and queen, had here four dromedaries and two camels. And this had never before been seen in England.(1)

Needless to say, this is a most intriguing reference, indicating the presence of both two-humped Bactrian camels and single-humped dromedaries (or Arabian camels) in medieval Kent! The chronicle itself is preserved in a fifteenth-century manuscript, CCCC MS 417, written by a monk of Christ Church, Canterbury, in 1467, with contemporary additions through until 1472, and as such can be considered an exemplary witness. The context of the presence of six camels at Canterbury is rather more mysterious. In particular, the identity of the 'Lord Patriarch of Antioch' who seems to have brought these camels to Canterbury 'in honour of the king and queen', has often been unclear. The first editor of the text, W. G. Searle, identified him simply as 'Peter II, Maronite patriarch' of Antioch, following W. F. Hook's suggestion in his 1867 Lives of the Archbishops of Canterbury.(2) However, it seems likely that he was, in fact, Ludovico Severi da Bologna, a Franciscan observant who styled himself as Patriarch of Antioch and papal legate to the East.

One of a number of gold camels bearing flower baskets that march across the fifteenth-century Erpingham Chasuble, embroidered in late medieval England (image © Victoria and Albert Museum, London, used under their non-commercial licence). 

A miniature of a camel from a manuscript probably made for King Edward IV of England (1461–70, 1471–83), who was the king in whose honour the six camels were paraded by the Patriarch of Antioch in 1466; from MS Royal 15 E III f. 200 (image: British Library).

Although Ludovico da Bologna is sometimes described as a fraud, this is arguably unfair. Ludovico first appears in a papal bull of 1454, when he is residing in Jerusalem and is granted privileges and dispensation by Pope Nicholas V to travel to Ethiopia and India, and in 1456 he is again engaged to act as Pope Callixtus III's messenger to Ethiopia. In 1457 Ludovico is sent by the pope with letters of recommendation to the Christians of Persia and Georgia, and the next pope, Pius II, confirmed these tasks and the perogatives granted to him in 1458. In 1460, Ludovico returned from the East accompanied by what seem to be genuine ambassadors from a number of eastern rulers including David Megas Komnenos, the Emperor of Trezibond, and George VIII of Georgia, who were seeking aid against the Ottomans, and Uzun Hasan, the Turkoman ruler of Persia, who was said to be ready to provide military assistance. Upon meeting with Pope Pius II, the ambassadors not only specified the readiness of their kingdoms to engage in military action, but also requested that Pope Pius II name Ludovico as Patriarch of Antioch, something that the pope agreed to do but stipulated that Ludovico should not use the title until he was consecrated as such by him after both the completion of his mission and the territorial jurisdiction of the patriarchate had been defined. Ludovico's party was then sent on by the pope to Milan, France and Burgundy—where they were received with apparent enthusiasm and great celebrations—in order to obtain and confirm commitments for a future crusade against the Ottomans, before returning to Italy in 1461.

It is at this point that things seem to have gone somewhat awry, as Ludovico da Bologna and his party for some reason decided not to wait any longer for Pope Pius II to do as he promised and instead had Ludovico consecrated as Patriarch of Antioch immediately in Venice, a decision that aroused papal wrath and saw Ludovico having to leave Venice to escape this. In the long-term, however, this dispute over his proper consecration as patriarch seems not to have greatly affected Ludovico's ability to function as a papal envoy and diplomat. In 1465, for example, he is recorded as acting as papal legate for Pope Paul II (1464–71) to the first Crimean khan Hacı I Giray and then subsequently ambassador from the khan to Casimir IV Jagiellon, King of Poland, with Ludovico using the title Patriarch of Antioch whilst in Poland. Similarly, in 1468–9 he seems to have been present in Denmark as papal ambassador and 'Patriarch', where he helped in ending the rivalries between Denmark and Sweden, and in 1471 he was in Rome meeting with Pope Paul II on behalf of the Uzun Hasan of Persia. In 1472, the new pope, Sixtus IV, reconfirmed and republished Ludovico's nomination to Patriarch of Antioch and invited him to resume negotiations for an anti-Ottoman alliance. Ludovico was subsequently also appointed by Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, as his ambassador to Persia in 1473, and in 1475 he was recorded in Persia in audience with Uzun Hasan, who sent back positive messages with him to Europe.

In light of all of the above, it thus seems highly likely that the 'Lord Patriarch of Antioch' who arrived in England in December 1466 can be identified as Ludovico Severi da Bologna. Not only was he clearly active as a diplomat in this period, visiting a number of northern European countries as a papal ambassador using just this title, but he also clearly had close connections to a number of eastern rulers and states that might have provided the camels that he brought with him 'in honor of the king and queen' of England, if they weren't sourced in Europe itself. The visit of 1466 was presumably an otherwise-unrecorded diplomatic endeavour by Ludovico acting as 'Patriarch of Antioch' to promote positive relations and commitments for an anti-Ottoman alliance between the rulers of East and Europe.

A miniature of a man riding a camel, probably drawn in south-east England (possibly Rochester, Kent); from the mid-thirteenth-century MS Royal 12 F XIII f. 38v (image: British Library).

If this is the immediate political context for the presence of four dromedaries (Arabian camels) and two Bactrian camels in fifteenth-century Kent, what of the wider context of camels in medieval Britain? Whilst John Stone's assertion that such a mixed troop of six Bactrian and Arabian camels 'had never before been seen in England' could be true, it is demonstrably not the case that 1466 represented the first appearance of camels in Britain since the Roman era. Indeed, the earliest reference to camels as definitely present in medieval Britain comes rather from the beginning of the twelfth century. William of Malmesbury, writing in the early twelfth century, records the following of the menagerie of King Henry I of England (1100–35) installed at Woodstock near Oxford, which he had apparently visited himself:

Henry took a passionate delight in the marvels of other countries, with much affability... asking foreign kings to send him animals not found in England—lions, leopards, lynxes, camels—and he had a park called Woodstock in which he kept his pets of this description. He had put there an animal called a porcupine, sent him by William of Montpellier, which is mentioned by Pliny in the eighth book of his Natural History and in Isidore in his Etymologies; they report the existence of an animal in Africa, called by the Africans a kind of hedgehog, covered with bristling splines, which it has the power to shoot out at dohgs pursuing it. The spines, as I have seen for myself, are a palm or more in length, and sharp at both ends, something like goose quills at the point where the feather-part leaves off, but rather thicker, and as it were striped black and white.(3)

Moreover, the king of England was not the sole possessor of camels in Britain and Ireland then, with the Irish Annals of Inisfallen recording under 1105 that 'in the above year a camel, an animal of remarkable size, was brought from the king of Alba to Muirchertach Ua Briain', indicating that the rulers of both Scotland and Ireland had camels amongst their own royal menageries in the early twelfth century. Whether there were any camels in medieval Britain or Ireland before the start of the twelfth century is undocumented, although Rodulf Tortarius writing, according to Mark Hagger, at the end of the eleventh century in his Epistula IX, recounts that William the Conqueror provided the citizens of Caen in Normandy with a wild animal show involving lions, leopards, lynxes, camels and ostriches that Rodulf himself witnessed. If correct, this obviously raises the distinct possibility that an Anglo-Norman royal menagerie containing camels may have been at least occasionally present in William's English domains too, and that Henry I's menagerie at Woodstock could furthermore have been partly an inheritance from his father.

Two Bactrian camels positioned above Duke William of Normandy, later King William I of England, on the Bayeux Tapestry, probably made in England in the 1070s (image: Wikimedia Commons).

Camels in the eleventh-century Old English Hexateuch, British Library, MS Cotton Claudius B IV, f. 39v (image: British Library).

Looking forward in time from Henry I, the medieval English royal menagerie seems to have regularly included camels. For example, in 1235 the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II sent a camel to King Henry III of England 'as a token of the continuation of his regard', and Henry's son King Edward I is recorded as having kept a camel at his palace at Kings Langley, Hertfordshire, for the amusement of his children. Edward II likewise kept a camel at Kings Langley Palace—his camel-keeper was called Ralph Camyle and the animal's feed included hay, beans, barley and oats, with the area of the royal park responsible for producing the camel's fodder apparently being subsequently known as Camylesland. Edward II is also recorded as being the recipient of two camels in 1317 from the wealthy Genoese merchant Antonio di Pessagno in return for appointing him steward of Gascony, and camels continued to be kept during the reigns of Edward III and Richard II too. Indeed, the latter granted John Wyntirbourne 'the keepership of the king's camel' for life in January 1393 and apparently receiving a camel and a pelican from the people of London at around the same time, the two events presumably being related. Finally, moving into the fifteenth century, Henry VI is recorded as having received 'of late three camels and an ostrich from Turkey' in March 1443 from an Italian merchant named Nicholas Jone of Bologna, and in 1472 Edward IV sent a camel to Ireland, this being potentially one of the beasts brought to England in 1466 by the Patriarch of Antioch 'in honor of the king and queen'.

In conclusion, it seems possible to elucidate the context of the intriguing reference to both Bactrian camels and dromedaries in medieval Kent found in John Stone's Chronicle for 1466. Firstly, the 'Lord Patriarch of Antioch' who paraded six of these beasts in Canterbury can be identified as Ludovico Severi da Bologna, an important papal diplomat who was promoting positive relations and a potential anti-Ottoman alliance between the rulers of East and Europe in this period. The four dromedaries and two Bactrian camels that John Stone saw were presumably intended as gifts for King Edward IV as part of this diplomatic effort, and in this light it is interesting to note the possibility that one of these camels was subsequently 'regifted' by Edward IV to Ireland a few years later. Secondly, although John Stone expressed astonishment at the sight of these six exotic beasts, it ought to be emphasised that they were by no means the first camels to be physically present in medieval Britain. Indeed, there is solid evidence for the presence of such creatures in England, Scotland and Ireland at least as far back as the early twelfth century, with potential hints of an even earlier presence, and English kings are recorded as receiving a number of camels as gifts from other rulers as well as townsfolk and merchants at various points in previous reigns.

A Barbary macaque riding backwards on a camel, England, c. AD 1300; note, there is both documentary and archaeological evidence for the presence of Barbary macaques in medieval Britain and Ireland. Click here for a larger version of this illustration (image: MS. Douce 151 f.26r).

A kneeling camel misericord carving, c. 1390, in the Church of St Botolph, Boston, Lincolnshire (image: Spencer Means, CC BY-SA 2.0).

Notes

1.     M. Connor (ed. & trans.), John Stone's Chronicle: Christ Church Priory, Canterbury, 1417–1472 (Kalamazoo, 2010), p. 116, and W. G. Searle (ed.), Christ Church, Canterbury: I. The Chronicle of John Stone (Cambridge, 1902), p. 97; my thanks to Richard Hopper for drawing my attention to this reference.
2.     W. G. Searle (ed.), Christ Church, Canterbury: I. The Chronicle of John Stone (Cambridge, 1902), p. 122; W. F. Hook, Lives of the Archbishops of Canterbury (London, 1867), vol. v, p. 357.
3.     William of Malmesbury, Gesta Regum Anglorum, v.409.2–3, ed. and trans. R. A. B. Mynors, R. M. Thomson, & M. Winterbottom (Oxford, 1998), vol. 1, pp. 740–1.

The content of this post and page, including any original illustrations, is Copyright © Caitlin R. Green, 2018, All Rights Reserved, and should not be used without permission.

A North African Barbary ape in fifth- to sixth-century Britain? A short note on the significance and context of the Wroxeter macaque remains

The focus of the current post is an unusual find of Barbary ape remains from a fifth- or sixth-century AD context at Wroxeter (Shropshire), once the fourth largest city in Roman Britain. The Barbary ape, or more properly the Barbary macaque, is primarily a North African species of monkey, but the Wroxeter find forms part of a small body of archaeological evidence for their presence as exotic pets and imported curiosities in Iron Age, Roman and medieval Europe, with a significant proportion of these finds actually coming from Britain and Ireland.

Finds of North African Barbary ape remains from Iron Age, Roman and medieval Europe; click here for a larger version of this map. Archaeological excavations producing Barbary ape remains are shown by dark blue dots whilst the modern-day range of Barbary apes is shown in dark red (image: C. R. Green, based on a base map from Wikimedia Commons).

Barbary macaques (Macaca sylvanus), commonly known as Barbary apes, are a species of Old World monkey indigenous to North Africa whose range in antiquity is thought to have extended from the Atlas Mountains of Morocco and Algeria across into what is now Tunisia and western Libya, with the small European colony on the Rock of Gibraltar probably established by the eighth century AD but potentially not much earlier than this (it is not mentioned by the classical authorities who discuss the Rock). As such, the presence of Barbary ape remains in 'post-Roman' Wroxeter, Shropshire, is certainly intriguing.

The remains in question consist of a well-preserved first phalange of a Barbary ape from a Phase Y–Z context (E74) at the Romano-British city of Viroconium Cornoviorum, modern Wroxeter.(1) These phases of activity were ascribed by Philip Barker to the sixth to seventh centuries in his final excavation report on the Wroxeter baths basilica, although the date and significance of these post-Roman phases have subsequently been the subject of some scepticism and potential revision—so, for example, the reality of the vast timber-framed structure of Phase Z has been challenged, as has the archaeomagnetic dating of Phase X that placed that period firmly in the post-Roman era.(2) Nonetheless, it still seems clear that there was indeed notable activity in Wroxeter during the early post-Roman era, even if we can no longer be as certain of its scale or duration. Thus radiocarbon dates from a hearth, a dump and a surface all suggest continued activity into the late fifth and sixth centuries, and this is supported by finds of a fifth- or sixth-century memorial stone with a Latin inscription (the Cunorix stone), a bronze coin of Valentinian III (c. AD 430–35), and sherds of imported Palestinian LR4 amphorae which are arguably of fifth-century date here.(3) Needless to say, the Barbary ape remains fit well into the above context and clearly offer further evidence for long-distance contacts between Britain and the Mediterranean in the 'post-Roman' era, particularly given that it is thought significantly more likely that the animal would have arrived in good condition if it had travelled directly from North Africa via the sea rather than indirectly overland, perhaps being imported via the port of Meols on the Wirral (which has seen finds of early Byzantine coins and one or two late fifth- to mid-seventh-century St Menas pilgrim flasks from Egypt) or the River Severn (the Bristol Channel area having seen finds of 'post-Roman'-era African Red Slip Ware from North Africa as well as other Mediterranean imports).(4)

The remains of the 'Old Work', part of the baths basilica complex at Viroconium Cornoviorum (Wroxeter); this surviving 7 metre high wall and arch is the largest piece of free-standing Roman wall in Britain (image: Nilfanion/Wikimedia Commons).

With regard to the role that this Barbary ape might have had in fifth- or sixth-century Wroxeter, there is unfortunately no contextual evidence from Wroxeter, but it is certainly the case that other archaeological finds from Britain and Europe suggest that Barbary apes were often highly valued in Roman and Late Antique society. For example, there is currently one other Late Antique find of a Barbary ape known from western Europe, discovered in the former Roman city of Iulia Libica, modern Llívia, in north-eastern Spain. This animal died in the fifth or sixth century (AD 515 ± 85) at around five and a half years of age, and was buried with a number of offerings including decorated metallic pieces and some bronze military belts typical of the Late Roman period, something believed to be indicative of the macaque having been a military pet—perhaps associated with an officer—that may have played a symbolic role as a mascot, totem or signum within the unit as a whole.(5) In this context, it is worth noting that Roman-era finds of Barbary ape remains have likewise been found in probable military contexts from a military (legionary) necropolis at Cutry in Meurthe-et-Moselle, northern France; from the vicus associated with the second- to third-century Roman fort of Rainau-Buch in Germany; and from the Roman fort of Cataractonium (Catterick, North Yorkshire), where a presumed Roman-era fragmentary skull of a male individual aged around 3 years was discovered whilst digging a modern service trench.(6)

A number of finds of Barbary apes also come from Roman urban or domestic contexts. Of particular interest here is a later third- to early fourth-century AD necropolis at the Roman city of Lemonum, modern Poitiers, where an adult Barbary ape was apparently buried alongside its owner inside a large stone-built funerary enclosure. Needless to say, this would seem to reflect the macaque being especially valued by its owner, and in this light it is perhaps worth noting that its burial probably involved a wooden coffin and is comparable in character to a number of infant burials excavated within the necropolis.(7) Other finds of Barbary apes from urban or domestic contexts include an incomplete juvenile skeleton of a macaque from Pompeii; a skull and mandible of a young Barbary ape from Constantinople that was discovered during the excavation of the Harbour of Theodosius, Yenikapı; a late second- to early third-century AD individual found at the House with the Large Triclinium at Le Clos de la Lombarde, Narbonne, France, where it had been deposited in a well at Marcus Claudius Aestivo's rich domus along with 27 human infants and dogs; and the skeleton of a young macaque found in a second-century pit at the small Romano-British town of Durocobrivis, modern Dunstable, Bedfordshire.(8)

An Early Byzantine mosaic of a Barbary ape from the Great Palace of Constantinople, usually dated to the sixth century AD (image: Laurom/Wikimedia Commons).

In addition to the ten finds listed above from Roman or Late Antique archaeological contexts in Europe, there have also been a small number of Iron Age and medieval Barbary apes found too. The Iron Age is represented by only two finds, one from Titelberg, a hillfort/oppidum of the Treveri in Luxembourg, and another from Navan Fort, Northern Ireland. The latter find consists of a skull and mandible of a Barbary ape radiocarbon dated to 390–20 BC and found in a phase IIIii context of c. 250–100 BC. It was discovered within the wall-slot of one of the large central buildings of Navan Fort, something that has led to the suggestion that the macaque's remains were utilized in death as a votive offering, and its presence in Iron Age Northern Ireland has been reasonably considered evidence for a sea-trade route between northern Ireland and the western Mediterranean world at that time.(9) From the medieval period there are five archaeological finds of Barbary apes known. Three come from the UK and consist of a macaque excavated from a medieval context at Friars’ Street, London, which shows signs of having been kept in captivity; a fourteenth-century skeleton found at Carrickfergus, Northern Ireland; and a late thirteenth-century skull and clavicle from Southampton, recovered from a rubbish pit attached to a large stone house owned by Richard of Southwick, a wealthy merchant who had trading connections with Spain.(10) There are also two finds made on the Continent, namely a medieval macaque discovered in Hitzacker, Lower Saxony (Germany), and a probably late twelfth-century skull from Novgorod, north-western Russia. The latter is the most northerly archaeological find of Barbary ape remains known from Europe and comes from Rurikovo Gorodische, a princely residence in that period.(11)

Of course, there are also a number of textual and artistic references to the keeping of Barbary apes as pets and performers in Roman and medieval Europe which can supplement the archaeozoological record to a significant degree.(12) Nonetheless, the archaeological evidence summarized above is of interest in itself. First, it is clear that Barbary apes like that discovered in fifth- or sixth-century Wroxeter are a very rare archaeological find from ancient and medieval Europe, and even though Roman and Late Antique discoveries are somewhat more common than medieval, it is worth noting that they are still significantly outnumbered by, for example, finds of camel remains across Europe. Second, at least some of the finds clearly come from high-status sites or were found in situations suggestive of the macaques being used as exotic companion animals, something that both confirms the written evidence and offers a potential context for the Wroxeter find, particularly given the interpretation of that site as a post-Roman elite centre. Third, it is interesting to note that most of the finds come from areas reasonably close to the coast or major riverine routes, again contrasting markedly with the distribution of Roman and Late Antique camel finds and thus potentially adding weight to the suggestion that pre-modern Barbary apes as exotica were primarily transported directly from the southern Mediterranean via the sea and rivers, rather than indirectly overland across Europe.(13) And fourth and finally, it can be observed that 7 of the 17 Barbary apes so far identified in the medieval and earlier European archaeological record (c. 41% of the total) were actually found in Britain or Ireland—whilst one might be tempted to suggest that an explanation may lie in the intensity of British archaeological work and its relative accessibility, this may well not be the whole story, particularly given that the pattern doesn't necessarily seem to be replicated with other long-distance exotica.(14)

A Barbary ape looking at itself in a mirror, from the fifthteenth-century Isabella Breviary, BL Additional 18851, f. 270r, made in the Southern Netherlands; for some more examples of medieval illuminations of monkeys, see this blog from the British Library (image: British Library).

Notes

1.     A. J. Hammon, Late Romano-British – Early Medieval Socio-Economic and Cultural Change: Analysis of the Mammal and Bird Bone Assemblages from the Roman city of Viroconium Cornoviorum, Shropshire (University of Sheffield PhD Thesis, 2005), vol. 1, pp. 152–3; A. Hammon, 'Understanding the Romano-British–Early Medieval transition: a zooarchaeological perspective from Wroxeter (Viroconium Cornoviorum)', Britannia, 42 (2011), 275–305 at pp. 290, 298; P. Barker et al, The Baths Basilica Wroxeter: Excavations 1966–90 (London, 1997), p. 358.
2.     P. Barker et al, The Baths Basilica Wroxeter: Excavations 1966–90 (London, 1997); M. Fulford, 'Wroxeter: legionary fortress, baths, and the "great rebuilding" of c. AD 450–550'. Journal of Roman Archaeology, 15 (2002), 639–45; A. Lane, 'Wroxeter and the end of Roman Britain', Antiquity, 88 (2014), 501–515. Note, Lane's argument that Barker's interpretation of Wroxeter as a continuing Roman town stands alone and without parallel in post-Roman Britain fails to take into account the evidence from Lincoln, where continued use of the Roman forum area into the sixth-century AD is now well-established, see especially Green, Britons and Anglo-Saxons: Lincolnshire AD 400–650 (Lincoln, 2012), pp. 65–9, 82–3, and Green, 'The British kingdom of Lindsey', Cambrian Medieval Celtic Studies, 56 (2008), 1–43 at pp. 18–23, and the summary discussions in Green, 'The fifth-to sixth-century British church in the forum at Lincoln: a brief discussion', blog post, 11 December 2017, online at http://www.caitlingreen.org/2017/12/fifth-to-sixth-century-british-church-lincoln.html, and Green, 'Romano-British pottery in the fifth- to sixth-century Lincoln region', blog post, 12 June 2016, online at http://www.caitlingreen.org/2016/06/romano-british-pottery-fifth-century-lincoln.html.
3.     On the radiocarbon dates still implying post-Roman activity, see A. Lane, 'Wroxeter and the end of Roman Britain', Antiquity, 88 (2014), 501–515 at pp. 508, 513; he also mentions the coin and inscription as still indicative of post-Roman activity (p. 511), but doesn't refer to the amphorae sherds. On Palestinian ('Gaza') LR4 amphorae in Britain and their date, see especially K. Dark, 'Western Britain in Late Antiquity', in F. K. Haarer et al (eds.), AD 410: The History and Archaeology of Late and Post-­Roman Britain (London, 2014), pp. 23­–35, and also M. Duggan, 'Ceramic imports to Britain and the Atlantic Seaboard in the fifth century and beyond', Internet Archaeology, 41 (2016), online at https://doi.org/10.11141/ia.41.3 on recent finds of LR4 at Bantham, Devon, and on the Continent; see the University of Southampton's Roman Amphora: Digital Resource (ADS 2005) for further details of LR4 amphorae, which are 'common in major western ports from c. AD 400 to early seventh century' and are usually thought to have been primarily, but not exclusively, used for transporting the famous wines of Gaza in Late Antiquity. For the Wroxeter amphorae sherds, see P. Barker et al, The Baths Basilica Wroxeter: Excavations 1966–90 (London, 1997), pp. 120, 237; J. A. Riley, 'The coarse pottery from Berenice', in J. Lloyd (ed.), Excavations at Sidi Khrebish, Benghazi (Berenice) II, supplement to Libya Antiqua, 5 (1979), 91–465 at p. 221; A. Hammon, 'Understanding the Romano-British–Early Medieval transition: a zooarchaeological perspective from Wroxeter (Viroconium Cornoviorum)', Britannia, 42 (2011), 275–305 at p. 293. It is perhaps worth noting that another sherd of a Palestinian amphora has recently been recovered from the Walbrook area of the Thames foreshore at London, adding to that known from the Billingsgate bath house at London, and has been assigned a fifth-century date on the PAS: LON-BB27D6.
4.     A. J. Hammon, Late Romano-British – Early Medieval Socio-Economic and Cultural Change: Analysis of the Mammal and Bird Bone Assemblages from the Roman city of Viroconium Cornoviorum, Shropshire (University of Sheffield PhD Thesis, 2005), vol. 1, pp. 152–3, 162–3, 172; S. Bangert, 'Menas ampullae: a case study of long-distance contacts', in A. Harris (ed.), Incipient Globalization? Long-Distance Contacts in the Sixth Century (Oxford, 2007), pp. 27–33.
5.     O. Olesti et al, 'Controlling the Pyrenees: a macaque's burial from Late Antique Iulia Libica (Llívia, La Cerdanya, Spain)', in A. Sarantis & N. Christie (eds.), War and Warfare in Late Antiquity: Current Perspectives (Leiden 2013), pp. 703–31.
6.     F. Gerber & A. Baudry-Dautry, 'La mode de l’animal exotique dans la haute société gallo-romaine. Sépulture d’un singe dans la nécropole de la rue des Caillons à Poitiers', Archéopages, 35 (2012), 42–7; O. Olesti et al, 'Controlling the Pyrenees: a macaque's burial from Late Antique Iulia Libica (Llívia, La Cerdanya, Spain)', in A. Sarantis & N. Christie (eds.), War and Warfare in Late Antiquity: Current Perspectives (Leiden 2013), pp. 703–31 at p. 714; G. Hodgson, 'A Barbary ape from the 1958–9 bypass excavations (Site 433)', in P. R. Wilson (ed.), Cataractonium: Roman Catterick and its Hinterland. Excavations and Research, 1958-1997: Volume II (York, 2002), p. 415; A. J. Hammon, Late Romano-British – Early Medieval Socio-Economic and Cultural Change: Analysis of the Mammal and Bird Bone Assemblages from the Roman city of Viroconium Cornoviorum, Shropshire (University of Sheffield PhD Thesis, 2005), vol. 1, p. 152.
7.     F. Gerber & A. Baudry-Dautry, 'La mode de l’animal exotique dans la haute société gallo-romaine. Sépulture d’un singe dans la nécropole de la rue des Caillons à Poitiers', Archéopages, 35 (2012), 42–7.
8.     J. F. Bailey et al, 'Monkey business in Pompeii—unique find of a juvenile Barbary macaque skeleton in Pompeii identified using osteology and ancient DNA techniques', Molecular Biology and Evolution, 16 (1999), 1410–14; V. Onar et al, 'A bridge from Byzantium to modern day Istanbul: an overview of animal skeleton remains found during Metro and Marmaray excavations', Journal of the Faculty of Veterinary Medicine at Istanbul University, 39 (2013), 1–8 at p. 8; F. Gerber & A. Baudry-Dautry, 'La mode de l’animal exotique dans la haute société gallo-romaine. Sépulture d’un singe dans la nécropole de la rue des Caillons à Poitiers', Archéopages, 35 (2012), 42–7; and J. Schneider, 'The Manshead Archaeological Society 1951–1991', Bedfordshire Archaeology, 20 (1992), 96–104 at p. 102.
9.     See, for example, I. Armit, Headhunting and the Body in Iron Age Europe (Cambridge, 2012), pp. 72–3; D. M. Waterman & C. J. Lynn (eds.), Excavations at Navan Fort 1961-71, County Armagh (Belfast, 1997), pp. 120–4; K. A. Costa, 'Marketing archaeological heritage sites in Ireland', in Y. M. Rowan and U. Baram (eds.), Marketing Heritage: Archaeology and the Consumption of the Past (Walnut Creek, 2004), pp. 69–92 at p. 73.
10.     A. Pipe, ‘A note on exotic animals from medieval and post-medieval London’, Anthropozoologica, 16 (1992), 189–91 at p. 190; A. Hamlin and C. Lynn (eds.), Pieces of the Past (Belfast, 1988), pp. 64–5; C. Platt & R. Coleman-Smith (eds.), Excavations in Medieval Southampton 1953–1969 (Leicester, 1975), vol. 1, pp. 32, 334; M. Brisbane & E. Hambleton, 'A monkey's tale: the skull of a macaque found at Ryurik Gorodische during excavations in 2003', Medieval Archaeology, 51 (2007), 185–91 at pp. 189–90.
11.     D. M. Waterman & C. J. Lynn (eds.), Excavations at Navan Fort 1961-71, County Armagh (Belfast, 1997), pp. 120–4; M. Brisbane et al, 'An African monkey at the court of Novgorod princes', in The Origins of the Russian State (St Petersburg, 2007), pp. 74–81; M. Brisbane & E. Hambleton, 'A monkey's tale: the skull of a macaque found at Ryurik Gorodische during excavations in 2003', Medieval Archaeology, 51 (2007), 185–91.
12.     See J.  M. C. Toynbee, Animals in Roman Life and Art (London, 1973), pp. 56–60, for a survey of references to monkeys in classical literature and art, and K. Walker-Meikle, Medieval Pets (Woodbridge, 2012), pp. 13–4, and M. Brisbane & E. Hambleton, 'A monkey's tale: the skull of a macaque found at Ryurik Gorodische during excavations in 2003', Medieval Archaeology, 51 (2007), 185–91 at p. 190, for medieval documentary references. See also Widukind in the tenth century for a reference to 'monkeys' at the court of Otto I of Germany: H. Mayr-Harting, 'The church of Magdeburg: its trade and its town in the tenth and early eleventh centuries', in D. Abulafia et al (eds.), Church and City, 1000–1500: Essays in Honour of Christopher Brooke (Cambridge, 1992), pp. 129–50 at p. 144. Charlemagne is likewise suggested to have kept monkeys in the late eighth century, and the menagerie of animals that accompanied Thomas Becket's mission to France in 1158 included apes: W. B. Clark, A Medieval Book of Beasts: The Second-family Bestiary (Woodbridge, 2006), pp. 17–18.
13.     As noted above: A. J. Hammon, Late Romano-British – Early Medieval Socio-Economic and Cultural Change: Analysis of the Mammal and Bird Bone Assemblages from the Roman city of Viroconium Cornoviorum, Shropshire (University of Sheffield PhD Thesis, 2005), vol. 1, pp. 152–3, 172, and D. M. Waterman & C. J. Lynn (eds.), Excavations at Navan Fort 1961-71, County Armagh (Belfast, 1997), p. 123.
14.     The obvious comparison is again with camel remains—c. 50 sites in Europe have produced Roman-era camel remains, but only one of these is in Britain: C. R. Green, 'Were there camels in Roman Britain? A brief note on the nature and context of the London camel remains', blog post, 8 November 2017, online at http://www.caitlingreen.org/2017/11/were-there-camels-in-roman-britain.html. However, we might likewise note the lack of medieval parrot remains or, indeed, the almost total lack of Early Modern–Modern guinea pig remains from Britain, despite textual evidence for the presence of these species here then; see, for example, T. O'Connor, 'Animals in urban life in Medieval to Early Modern England', in U. Albarella et al (eds.), The Oxford Handbook of Zooarchaeology (Oxford, 2017), pp. 214–29 at p. 222. Note also, perhaps, the presence of leopard and ostrich remains at Rome versus their absence from the Roman-era zooarchaeological record in Britain: M. MacKinnon, 'Supplying exotic animals for the Roman amphitheatre games: new reconstructions combining archaeological, ancient textual, historical and ethnographic data', Mouseion: Journal of the Classical Association of Canada, 6 (2006), 137–161 at pp. 154–5.

The content of this post and page, including any original illustrations, is Copyright © Caitlin R. Green, 2018, All Rights Reserved, and should not be used without permission.