In 2016, a rescue excavation at the Jičín Natural Sciences Centre and Observatory uncovered a mass grave containing multiple commingled individuals buried in several layers. Zinc buttons and clothing remnants possibly related to eighteenth–nineteenth-century military uniforms found in the grave suggest that these individuals were soldiers. During this period, the Jičín region experienced numerous battles and was the location of several military barracks, hospitals, and transport routes, in addition to supporting civilian populations. To contextualize this burial site, bioarchaeological analyses including assessments of age-at-death, sex, and stature, and recording the presence of injury or medical intervention were conducted. A high frequency of young adult males suggests that the grave was related to military activity. The presence of infants, limited evidence of perimortem trauma, and absence of signs of medical treatment could indicate that this mass grave was related to military encampments rather than battlefield contexts.

Opus signinum is a lime mortar mix that includes crushed pottery as an aggregate. Because it is water-resistant, it was used to line hydraulic structures like pools and aqueducts. While there have been numerous recreations of Roman ‘concretes’ in the past, hydrophobic linings have received little attention, and all preliminary studies in these recreations have paid more attention to the dry components and the lime than to the hydric needs of the mortar. The experiment presented here was to gain a better understanding, with the help of traditional builders, of the process of mixing and applying hydrophobic linings and calculate the water consumption of individual samples. The data obtained contribute to assessing the water consumption needs on Roman construction sites, what associated logistics these volumes required, and what the technicalities of applying this specific type of lining were.

Deer hunting was heavily ritualized in medieval Europe, as indicated by historical and archaeological evidence; it also emphasized social differentiation. The butchery of a deer carcass (‘unmaking’) was integral to the ritual and led to different body parts being destined for individuals of differing status. Archaeologically, the practice is particularly visible in high-status sites in Britain, but documentary and archaeological sources are consistent in pinpointing its earliest occurrence in twelfth-century France. In Italy, late medieval evidence for such ‘unmaking’ is present but is not supported by any known historical sources. Red and fallow deer were butchered in a formalized manner, whereas the data for roe deer are unclear. Although the Normans contributed to the diffusion of the ‘unmaking’ practice, in France it is also found outside the core area of Norman influence. The extensive spread of the practice demonstrates the connectedness of the medieval hunting culture in Europe.

In Old Norse poetic literature, the smiðr was a master of the arts, able to control and shape multiple materials into various kinds of objects. While the mythological smiðr has been regarded as separate from the real-world blacksmiths and metalworkers of gold, silver, and copper alloys, the archaeological evidence recovered in towns and workshops of the Viking Age, as well as medieval written sources, provide a different perspective. In 2015, a hitherto unknown, well-preserved workshop was excavated in the Viking town of Kaupang in Norway, containing evidence of complex metalworking requiring the skills of blacksmiths and workers of soft metals. In this article, the authors venture beyond the Old Norse myths, into the world of the proficient smiths as multi-crafters and their tools of the trade.

Hobby metal detecting in Norway has grown since 2014. In the Norwegian recording system, all finds are catalogued by professionals at five regional museums. The examination of the dataset thus created allows the authors to look at regional and national patterns and discuss the inherently messy and ‘human’ nature of a seemingly quantitative material. Their study suggests that both archaeologists and detectorists influence the quality of the evidence and how representative the data are. They argue that metal detecting patterns are primarily the result of modern activities, such as management practices and the endeavours of a few very prolific detectorists in certain areas. Understanding these biases and systematically recording the activities of the actors involved is crucial if we are to make full use of the metal-detected material.

In many areas of the world, archaeological research relies on workers without formal training in archaeology or apparent direct input into archaeological knowledge production. While these workers may appear to have little agency within the excavation process, and no direct participation in research outcomes, their role is more complex. Examples of local and international archaeological teams working in Türkiye in the mid-twentieth century and today are used here to explore the articulation of worker roles in field archaeology, as portrayed in field reports. The author assesses the language associated with team members in acknowledgements of their presence and status and examines how relationships are developed and maintained. Awareness of knowledge accumulation among local archaeological workers was articulated in the 1960s and proved advantageous to both workers and directors. Recent reports show little acknowledgement of worker presence, showing that multivocality has had no significant impact in this area of archaeological knowledge production.

The presence of Roman material in early Anglo-Saxon graves in England is well documented, and recent excavations at Scremby in Lincolnshire have revealed a complete copper-alloy enamelled drinking cup in a sixth-century ad female burial. Not only is such a Roman vessel a very rare find, but also its inclusion in an early medieval grave makes it a unique example of the reuse of an antique object in a funerary context. This article presents a typological and metallurgical analysis of the cup and selected comparative examples from England and France are discussed. The context of deposition and the role the cup played as a burial container for animal fat are examined, as are the mechanisms that lay behind the cup's continued life several centuries after its manufacture.

This article traces characterizations of the Cupbearer fresco, named after the large vessel the figure holds and uncovered at the site of Knossos in 1900, in light of the research agendas about the ‘races’ of the prehistoric Aegean and traditions of racial science current in late Victorian Britain. The head of the Cupbearer was compared to Classical Greek art, modern Cretan populations, and cranial remains from prehistoric contexts. Drawing from academic publications, articles in the press, and reports of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, the author situates the discourse surrounding the Cupbearer in the context of scholars seeking the origins of ‘European’ civilization in prehistory, and the creation of racial typologies, especially using cranial measurements and photography. The Cupbearer gained a dual status as a racial portrait comparable to past and present human populations, but also as a work of art that prefigured the later achievements of Classical Greece.