Making Must Farm (Pt.1): A Bronze Axe

In the heart of history lies the enigmatic Must Farm settlement, a tapestry woven with threads of perplexity, burstiness, and unpredictable tales. This Bronze Age relic, with its five round houses perched on stilts and encircled by a palisade, stands as a testament to a bygone era. But what makes Must Farm truly fascinating is not just its architectural marvels but the captivating story that unfolded within its walls.

A Stagnant Dance of Preservation

Imagine a settlement built over a watercourse, not the lively rush of a river, but a stagnant, almost meditative body of water. When calamity struck and the settlement collapsed into this tranquil abyss, it wasn't washed away like a fleeting dream. Instead, the stagnant environment worked its magic, preserving everything in situ. The Muslim settlement's saga, lasting a mere year, is etched in the freshness of wood, the absence of wood borers, and the narrowness of the stratigraphy—a mere 15 centimeters of deposit revealing the essence of Must Farm.

Flames of the Past: A Dance with Fire

The climax of Must Farm's narrative unfolded in flames. As the settlement succumbed to fire, heavy roofs plunged like a cosmic coffee plunger, dragging the contents of each structure to the riverbed's depths. Fully equipped households, frozen in time, now lie beneath the water's surface. The fire, an abrupt end to an era, turned architecture into ashes, and the remnants sunk to the riverbed, creating a tableau of Bronze Age life frozen in time.

Bronze Axes: Tools and Symbols of an Epoch

Enter the stage: the bronze axes, not just tools but symbolic relics connecting us to our prehistoric past. These bronze marvels, used to fell trees and shape timber for the pile dwellings of Must Farm, hint at a hurried departure. Amidst the burned remains, these axes, usually found in isolation, tell a tale of owners leaving in haste, leaving behind a trove of bronze ax heads, some still clutched by wooden handles.

Thousands of these bronze ax heads have been unearthed across the UK, often solitary finds or in mysterious groups. Rarely do they retain their wooden handles, but Must Farm's excavation offers a rare glimpse into the complete or partial ax handles, with three still clasping a bronze blade. As artifacts, they speak of a bygone craftsmanship, revealing tooling marks and grinding scars that narrate a story of creation and maintenance.

Crafting Complexity: From Casting to Cordage

Must Farm was not just a haven for architecture but a hub of ax craftsmanship. The axes, their heads likely cast elsewhere, were meticulously finished at Must Farm. Owners, true custodians of their tools, maintained and sharpened them, leaving visible traces on the blade's edge. Loops on the axes, seemingly mundane, served a crucial purpose—preventing these tools from hurling into oblivion. A particularly well-preserved two-part ax handle, crafted from field Maple and Oak, stands as a testament to the artisanal dedication of Must Farm's inhabitants.

As we unravel the layers of Must Farm, we find ourselves entangled in a dance of preservation, a symphony of flames, and the silent whispers of bronze axes. In this archaeological theater, the Must Farm settlement emerges not just as a relic of the past but a living, breathing narrative, challenging our understanding of history and beckoning us to explore the mysteries that lie beneath the surface of time.