MASARYK UNIVERSITY Faculty of Social Studies Department of Environmental Studies

Filip Havlíček

Waste as an anthropological constant: History of waste management in Europe from the Paleolithic to the Middle Ages

A Thesis presented for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy

Supervisor: doc. PhDr. Lubor Kysučan, Ph.D

Brno 2017

I declare that I have written the thesis independently and all cited sources have been listed in the references.

Brno, September 1, 2017 Filip Havlíček

Table of Contents

Table of Contents ...... 2

Acknowledgments ...... 3

Annotation ...... 4

List of original publications ...... 5

A Description of the Publications ...... 6

Introduction ...... 9

Waste, Materiality, and Archeology ...... 13

The Value of Waste – Everything Has Its Worth ...... 16

Results ...... 18

Bibliography ...... 23

Study I...... 28

Waste Management in Hunter-Gatherer Communities ...... 28

Study II...... 48

Waste management at the end of the Stone Age ...... 48

Study III...... 71

Waste Management in Bronze Age Europe ...... 71

Study IV...... 88

Waste and Pollution in the Ancient Roman Empire ...... 88

Study V...... 115

Waste management and attitudes towards cleanliness in Medieval Central Europe ...... 115

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank my family for their support not just over the four years of my doctoral studies, but over the whole course of my career as a university student (11 years!). My gratitude belongs to my advisor, doc. Lubor Kysučan, for his practical advice, which often was about more than just school. I would also like to thank my girlfriend, Alexandra Gottierová, with whom I discussed many questions about my dissertation. I am also indebted to my friends, both from university and elsewhere; I would like to thank by name Lukas Blinka, Kateřina Škařupová, Jakub Zálešák, Michal Hořenovský, Zbyněk Ulčák, Bohuslav Binka and all the co-authors of the articles presented here. Finally, I would like to thank “the boys from faculty office no. 3.14” and Nicholas P. Orsillo, in particular, for his translations into English—a language full of treacherous articles. Thank you all very much!

Annotation

This dissertation examines waste management in several periods of human history, namely in the Paleolithic, Neolithic, Bronze Age, Ancient Rome, and the Middle Ages. From a geographical point of view, it focuses mainly on Europe. In each period the dominant materials for production of artifacts were determined, and their gradual transformation into an archaeological source was examined. In several cases, written sources related to waste and environmental issues from the given period were used. At the center of research, however, were always humans and their relationship to waste. Examples of waste management are studied to provide insight into society and its adaptation to the environment. As part of this largely theoretical dissertation, two experiments were carried out: the first one involved burning seashells and the second using ashes to launder clothing. The first experiment demonstrated that shells are an unusable material, which helps explain why massive deposits of this material in extreme amounts can be found. In contrast, the second experiment showed the suitability of ashes as a possible cleaner. This dissertation also seeks out similarities across historical periods and examines certain waste materials throughout the history of humanity.

List of original publications

This dissertation is based on the following original publications, which are listed in chronological order and will be referred to in the dissertation by Roman numerals. The author of the dissertation is the main author of the following publications.

Havlíček, F. (2015). Waste Management in Hunter-Gatherer Communities. Journal of Landscape Ecology, Vol: 8 / No. 2

Havlíček, F., & Morcinek, M. (2016). Waste and Pollution in the Ancient Roman Empire. Journal of Landscape Ecology, Vol: 9/ No. 3

Havlíček, F., & Kuča, M. (2017). Waste management at the end of the Stone Age. Journal of Landscape Ecology, Vol: 10 / No. 1

Havlíček, F., & Kuča, M. (2017). Waste Management in Bronze Age Europe. Journal of Landscape Ecology, Vol:10 / No. 1

Havlíček, F., Pokorná, A., Zálešák, J. (2017). Waste management and attitudes towards cleanliness in Medieval Central Europe. Journal of Landscape Ecology, Vol:10 / No. 2

A Description of the Publications

This dissertation, which charts the expansive period from the Paleolithic to the Middle Ages, focuses on five particular historical periods. An article about each period was written, with each period being defined by fundamental milestones in human history, such as the transition from a hunter-gather economy to agriculture, the development of metalworking, the rise of classical civilizations, or the planting of the roots of the modern way of life in the Middle Ages. The entire work centers around humans and their relationship with waste, as manifested in waste strategies as environmental adaptations. Waste becomes a material that provides us an opportunity to examine, from a certain angle, the history of human behavior, culture, and adaptation. Cultural waste management is therefore the topic of this dissertation. The first published article deals with waste management and defining the term waste in the Paleolithic and the Mesolithic, primarily in Europe. Considering the length of the Paleolithic in Europe, it was essential to touch on the evolutionary context, which influenced my overall view of waste management in the past. The assumption that the physical and mental abilities of humans were formed through an evolutionary process in the Paleolithic was considered a starting point. Without accepting this evolutionary perspective, many causalities related to at least some human waste strategies would be incomprehensible. Beginning chronologically from the oldest time period proved to be useful in the context of technological progress in the studied piece of history. For the first article an experiment was conducted in which mussel shells were burnt. It confirmed the hypothesis that the materials contained in shell middens were of an unexploitable nature and this contributed to interpreting these prehistoric waste deposits. Because this was practically the author’s first independent publication, the manuscript was sent to a peer-reviewed journal without impact factor. 6

The article was peer reviewed and published in 2015 as “Waste Management in Hunter-Gatherer Communities” in the Journal of Landscape Ecology (JOLE), which is a fully reviewed scientific journal published by the Czech National Chapter of the Association for Landscape Ecology (CZ-IALE). The journal is published in English and is included on the list of peer-reviewed, non–impact factor periodicals published in the Czech Republic. The next published article is titled “Waste and Pollution in the Ancient Roman Empire.” It was co-authored with Miroslav Morcinek, a doctoral student from the Institute of Classical Studies. In this article, we focused on waste strategies and hygiene in ancient Roman times. As part of a semester spent at the University of Bologna, the dissertation author was able to take several trips to Roma and Ostia, conduct field research, and thus flesh out this article with photographs and references to literary sources about Roman waste strategies and systems. Since in 2016 JOLE was included in the database of peer-reviewed SCOPUS journals, this article was once again submitted to this journal, where it underwent peer review and was published in 2016. The next article focused on waste strategies in the Neolithic and the Chalcolithic and was published as “Waste Management at the End of the Stone Age.” It was co-authored with archeologist Martin Kuča, a specialist on the Neolithic and Chalcolithic and an employee of the museum in Moravský Krumlov. The article underwent peer review and was published in JOLE in 2017. The last published article deals with waste management and cleanliness in the Middle Ages in Central Europe and was accepted for peer review by JOLE in 2017 under the title “Waste Management and Attitudes Towards Cleanliness in Medieval Central Europe.” This article was co-written with two other authors and includes an experiment in which we attempted to use one particular waste material. This experiment was conducted with assistance from one of the co- authors, Jakub Zálešák, a doctoral student in chemistry at Montanuniversität in

Leoben, Austria. We attempted to use ashes to wash linen fabric stained with lard under controlled conditions. The hypothesis was confirmed; it was demonstrated that at least some of this waste material could be used in this way. The other co-author was Adéla Pokorná, a doctoral student at the Faculty of Science of Charles University in Prague, a specialist on paleobotany and macroresidue analysis.

The last published article is titled “Waste Management in Bronze Age Europe” and was also co-authored with archeologist Martin Kuča. In it we focused on a new waste material in the form of metals in the context of already relatively well-developed Bronze Age cultures. This article was also published in JOLE in 2017, and brought an end to this series of articles focused on historical waste. The question arises of why all of the articles were published in one journal. The main factor is that this journal was open to the topic and is contained in the SCOPUS index; thus, there was no reason to make any changes in our well- functioning collaboration with this periodical. For each period, several practical examples are described with an emphasis on materials relevant for the given period. Considering the broad temporal and geographical scope of the dissertation, I attempted to avoid overgeneralization, and the examples I give of waste management are one possible solution, but not the only one. In this dissertation, I have tried to consider all possible waste in each period, but nonetheless it is possible that some types of waste material existed that did not leave any remains behind due to its material composition.

Introduction

At the general level, it is remarkable to note widespread prejudices people have against our forbearers; they tend to underestimate them. For example, certain stereotypes about hygiene and waste management exist. One frequently held idea is that societies that produce only organic, and thus biodegradable, waste, faced no problems with using such material. The research objective of this dissertation is to confirm the initial assumption about the existence of complicated practices related to waste management in individual periods in history, including the earliest. The topic of the dissertation was chosen to fill a gap in the scholarship and to bring a holistic view, not a narrow one, on a longer time period. In a broader context, this topic falls under the relatively young discipline of environmental history, which studies the relationships between people and the environment. In general, environmental history attempts to reveal the causes that have historically, as well as presently, led to pressure on the natural environment. By accepting the environment as a critical value and assuming that human experience is not exempt from natural dependencies, environmental history tries to surpass the boundaries of traditional geopolitical and economic history. A description of history with an emphasis on the environment focuses, on the general level, on two questions: How have people formed their natural environment and how has the natural environment formed them? This two-way relationship then determines the causalities that are the subject of study in this field. This dissertation deals with the study of waste management, but it does not conceive of waste as a separate entity, but as a material that emerges from interaction between people and the environment. It is understood as the product of the metabolism of human culture and thus is inseparable from human society. In 1945 anthropologist George P. Murdock presented an extensive list of characteristics shared by all current and past cultures. Murdock therefore refers

9 to them as “constants” (Murdock 1945). One constant is cleanliness training, which is closely related to waste management. Thus, on the grounds of this theory waste management in the broadest sense can be considered an anthropological or biological1 constant, from which a broad spectrum of social, local, and cultural measures, practices, rules, and rituals have evolved. From the evolutionary perspective, it is of course logical that, chronologically speaking, culture-influenced waste management had to come after biological waste management. Kitchen waste Norbert Elias (2000) calls this watershed Fecal matter the biopsychological Construction waste formation of human

Occupation morals and habits. It Total waste waste is certain that this production Mining shift must have waste happened already Other waste during the

Waste water Paleolithic. Creating waste Mixed waste strategies is thus

Figure 1 (Filip Havlíček) natural, and from a longer-term perspective such strategies must always arise when an organism interacts with its environment. It is an advantageous environmental adaptation, part of not only human nature, which likely provided a certain advantage in the process of natural selection.

1 This is confirmed by the fact that all members of the genus of Homo are sensitive to contact with dirt or stickiness (Smith 2002).

From a broader perspective, this work also examines hygienic care and the related creation of waste strategies as a long-term suitable model of human behavior. Related are the body’s evolutionarily developed senses, which react to and inform the mind about environmental conditions. From there, the mind then evaluates the situation and determines how to act. Within in this biological framework, a set of measures and practices emerges in each society in a given place and time. In other words, the human phenomena I examine are to a large extent conditioned by culture, as Mary Douglas (2003) has demonstrated. It is culture that defines what is clean and unclean. Douglas considers these categories to be culturally universal, although their exact contents may vary (Douglas 2003). It is useful recall that Thomas’s observation that classifying the material world is not culturally static, but takes place in a world of dynamic pressures (and context), which influences the activities and relationships within a given community (Thomas 2002). Although waste is difficult to classify, it can be divided into basic types that are universal throughout history (Figure 1). Some categories require greater description, particularly our definition of “other waste.” This category is for undetermined items. It includes things such as rare artefacts that have been found in waste deposits. This category always requires a description of the archeological situation. The necessity to describe waste in its context, and not as a separate entity, is related to this. Fecal waste is a ubiquitous category. Even though it is practically impossible to detect prehistoric excrement, it is highly likely that this socially shunned and tabooed material played an important role in the spatial arrangement of sites. Since all life produces waste, it is also part of the relationship between all animals and their environment.

The greatest source of information for this dissertation were findings from the field of archeology. Archeology is a science that studies history and prehistory

11 through artefacts and ecofacts created by members of the genus of Homo. Many such items however have symbolic meaning only in a particular social environment, which cannot be fully reconstructed. We can only make assumptions about this world or compare it to that of a living culture, from which we can derive parallels to past societies. As had already been mentioned above, to understand the issue of waste or rather to describe the relationship between people, waste, and waste management (including for historical waste) it is essential to look beyond the boundaries of archeology. Biology cannot be avoided; through evolutionary theory it delimits the initial connections between humans and the environment, as described above. The initial causes that led to a specific waste management system were probably related to preventing disease, protection from insects, bad odors, wild animals, and so on (Bilitewski 1997). For humans to adapt to natural and cultural environments they must create artefacts. However, they usually cannot be made without also creating some kind of waste. The science dealing directly was waste management is known as garbology, which studies waste in great detail. We can trace the roots of this science back to archeology, whose methods and interest in materials were influential. Garbology may answer questions about the extent of recycling, wasting resources, and consumption patterns in everyday life. This science examines human behavior in materialized form through the study of waste (Sosna & Brunclíková 2015). The relationship between the body and uncleanliness and informal economic practices can be successfully studied through waste (Sosna & Brunclíková 2015) as a bearer of information about the past, which, through archeology, can tell us about the lives of long-ago people. Waste can provide us an unbelievable amount of information, including about production technology, long-distance contact between cultures, social differences, food sources, social relationships, and the health of the population.

Besides the laws of evolutionary biology and evolutionary psychology, we come to other primarily social factors, which involve phenomena associated with the relationships between people, waste, and waste management at the cultural level. Although in most cases resources turn into waste, there are also many transformations in which the opposite occurs and waste becomes a resource. Sosna and Brunclíková point out one particular material characteristic––that in different times, places, and contexts a resource can become waste or vice versa (Sosna & Brunclíková 2015). At the same time, we should try and view material traces not only in the context of use and disposal, but try to see them in the context of how they are actively connected to people and society (Joyce 2000, Joyce-Hendon 2008). Human waste is primarily a question of the attitude that people have towards material that might be considered waste. Whether an object becomes, or does not become, waste is therefore very subjective. Many theorists (as well as more practical scholars) in the field of waste studies have tried to categorize or define waste (Douglas 2003, Gille 2007, Reno 2014, Rathje & Murphy 2001, Sommer 1990, Thompson 1979, etc.). Despite solid scholarship dealing with waste, it cannot be said that a work has emerged positing a universal theory reflecting all aspects of waste. Thus, I would agree with the idea that findings in the field of waste studies are valuable more for their sense of detail than for an ability to generalize (Sosna & Brunclíková 2015).

Waste, Materiality, and Archeology

Why write a dissertation about waste management using archeological theories and practical examples from human history? Can these examples tell us something about the general characteristics of human behavior in relation to waste material?

The first reason is that in this case waste is perceived materially and no other field of study has a theory of materiality (material culture) as fully developed as archeology. At its core, archeology is focused on the material remains of past societies and thus as a science it consists of a set of academic procedures that allow the most effective study of material culture (Joyce 2012). Understanding the material nature of social life––what it means and what information it can provide to use––underwent a difficult transformation in 20th century archeology. Perhaps the most significant is the gradual shift from understanding material culture as a passive element of the relationships between people and society that simply and directly reflects identity to viewing it as an active element where many variables are involved.

The current archeological understanding of materiality is dominated largely by interest in the path of a given object and its story. There is little concern for whether objects are “complete” and researchers’ interest does not just focus on finished products (Joyce 2012, 128). When examining things, the archeologist is prepared to encounter “incompleteness.” The archeologist is supported by a sophisticated method, which has been created and built up over the decades and takes into account incompleteness, the piecemeal nature of artefacts, and the incompleteness of initial information. He or she finds a small piece of an object and begins searching for context, reconstructing the artefact’s story. Researcher Michael Thompson (1979) in his work also speaks about “object biography,” which archeologists try to chart. It is the trajectory a certain object went through during its existence. Archeologists are not just interested in complete, “pretty” things. Archeology as a discipline has already gone through this phase and has not focused on just works of art, precious metals, treasures, and the like for years. Modern archeology does not distinguish between artefacts and waste in terms of quality. It is focused on all phases of production and all phases of life, even normal

14 objects ranging from the initial raw materials to objects or parts of objects disposed of as waste. Objects that archeologists once considered waste are today viewed as tracks that play an important role in telling the full story of a given item, its path from its creation to the present. The story, or the path, that leads to the archeological context is essential for understanding an object’s creation and deposition, as well as for understanding what role waste and its disposal played for the given society. Because archeologists come into contact with the physicality of material, with “earth and water,” they find themselves in a unique position in which they can see what others cannot (Joyce 2012). Archeology also belongs to a wider group of disciplines that examines things in the context of the material world, in which they are connected to people and where people and objects form and influence each other. What archeology can offer is a view of material culture as things in constant motion, being passed from hand to hand, in time and space, while the lines between place, people, and things blur (Joyce 2012).

When discussing the study of waste, one must mention the name of one of the doyens of Czech archeology, methodologist and theorist Evžen Neustupný. In his theory of waste areas, he distinguishes three types of waste deposits in the archeological context. Primary waste is material that remained at its place of origin, as opposed to secondary waste, which was intentionally disposed of at a refuse site. The definition of tertiary waste, which is created by the transformation of secondary waste by post-deposition processes (such as when secondary waste is redeposited elsewhere by water), is very helpful (Neustupný 2007). These accumulations do not form intentionally and their value for interpreting waste management is fundamental. The fundamental question of what influence refuse sites had on the development and spatial arrangements of settlements remains to be answered. It is appropriate to assume that without understanding the waste strategies at a given locality there can be no exact

15 definition of a settlement’s environment, as a place where people moved about and which they created (Neustupný 2007).

The Value of Waste – Everything Has Its Worth

The idea of value is firmly linked to the topic of waste. Even though the concept of worth is traditionally associated with economic value, it is useful to consider value in a broader social context. One of the leading theorists bridging the gap between waste and value is social anthropologist Joshua Reno. Reno defines two types of waste and three different concepts of value. The first type of waste is correlational waste––that is, waste that is defined as waste in relation to other things, on the basis of subjective value perceptions. It is something that people do not want, what an individual or society knowingly rejects and gets rid of based on specific esthetic criteria that are created in a concrete time and place. It is the result of a person making a conscious decision that something is worthless. The things people throw away reveals their value systems––what is important for them and what is not. The things people throw away automatically define other things as more important (hence the term “correlational waste”). In this sense, waste is closely related to two definitions of value––economic value and symbolic value (Reno 2016). Economic value refers to the value produced in using or exchanging an item; symbolic value connects people and things in interpersonal relationships with broader sociocultural value than just economic worth. If value is a manner of assessing an object, a manner of labeling things of worth to us, what is important for us, then waste is that which has no value. The ability to reassess the (non-)value of things demonstrates the contingent nature of this “valuation,” that is, that our criteria are arbitrary (Reno 2016).

And if the value of a discarded object stems from a set of these arbitrarily established esthetic and moral criteria, that means that waste is a secondary product of every process in which people attribute value and meaning to things, and thus value is more a social construct than an objective category. From this we can also conclude that a thing that is referred to as waste and thrown away retains its value and its symbolic value may even still grow. The second type of waste, in contrast, is not dependent on human volition, on whether people consider it to be waste or not, and is the result of a process on which humans and other animals depend. The third meaning of value is associated with this type of waste. It is the implicit meaning of life present in all living creatures, not just people (Reno 2016).

The value of an artefact (or material) is determined by the availability of that artefact. Unlike in past societies, today consumers are largely separate from the production process and there is a great amount of overproduction. This revolutionary change, this watershed moment, occurred with the beginning of the industrial production of objects, which made products more available, but, in the long-term perspective, also lowered their value. The rarer, the more unique, a certain good becomes, the energy put into caring for it or repairing it will grow. The likelihood of it ending up in a waste environment shrinks greatly. If an object is not made from a rare material whose value comes from the scarcity of this material, then it will have only social value. In this case, value may cease to exist together with the world of the social rules of the given society. A good example can be provided by the Ethiopian Daasanach tribe, for whose members the waste of Western civilization is a source of material for making jewelry. Metal bottlecaps, paper clips, metal watchbands, and other small pieces of plastic waste have value to them and they are used as materials for ornamenting the body. The waste of one culture may become a valuable 17 resource (if only of symbolic value) for another culture. Verhard and Wansleeben (1997) described this cultural phenomenon in their work.

Results

In human society waste is a permeant and ubiquitous phenomenon. Humans produce much more waste than other animals, certainly due to how we have adapted to the natural and social environment using manmade artefacts, whose production results in waste. Cultural rules, however, are arbitrary; they develop based on current circumstances and how a given society utilizes the surrounding environment. Culture plays a critical role in the production of waste, which can be demonstrated using the example of the largest structure created by human hand (twenty square kilometers)––that is, the Fresh Kills landfill, which is located on Staten Island in New York City (Eriksen 2011). Without cultural waste, this structure would never have been created. Drawing from the examples described in each part of this dissertation, we can with great certainty state that waste management methods first appeared in the Paleolithic and the closer we get to current times the more waste has been produced. This fact has had the largest impact on the number of artefacts and the variability of materials, which people have used to adapt to the external environment and to the internal environment of human culture. Today, the oldest known artefacts are considered a collection from the Lower Paleolithic site of Gona 2 in Ethiopia (Semaw 2000). From the technology employed to produce them, it is clear that waste material must have been made in the form of small stone chippings. In other words, it can be stated that the human artefact as such, since its inception, since the first tool was made on Earth, has always been closely linked with the production of waste. With the

2 Here, it is hard not imagine the “dawn of man” sequence from the film 2001: A Space Odyssey.

18 creation of the first artefact, production waste became an essential part of human culture with which people had to learn to live with and work with (O’Brian 2008). With the transition from a hunter-gather economy to planned agriculture, people became more attached to a single place and the burden associated with moving artefacts fell away. And now they could produce even more objects. As the number of artefacts produced increased, so too did the amount of waste. Likewise, agricultural civilizations also indicated much higher levels of demographic growth, which had very similar results on waste production. Under certain circumstances, depositing waste could have played a certain social role that led to forming social stability by way of people creating a work together. Today, hardly anyone would brag about the amount of waste produced (just the opposite is the case), but nonetheless it seems that in a certain period, beginning in the Neolithic and continuing through the Bronze Age, middens may have been produced as an ostentatious show of how rich the given community was. By demonstrating the enormity of waste it had produced, an agricultural community could symbolically boast about its wealth. The fact that these refuse sites are generally located in elevated areas only supports this idea (Tubb 2011). In each period studied, I observed a difference between the internal and external environment of the human dwelling. There is marked variability in waste strategies and social norms that respect the spatial arrangement of settlements and dwellings in relation to waste. In general, the relationship between waste and social organization is largely dependent on a given society’s attitude towards uncleanliness. Even short-term settlements may indicate well-organized waste management systems; in contrast, however, not all long-term settlements necessarily had well organized waste management systems (Hodder & Hutson 2003). Even though the perception of waste is to a large extent guided by concerns about physical health, it is necessary to note that “concern about pollution of the

19 external environment, felt much more personally than a mere technical problem, is essentially a manifestation of the fear of the pollution of the internal spiritual world” (Komárek 2009, p. 247). Thus, it seems that people may feel the necessity to clean due more to an internal need for order than to mitigate real dangers posed by waste material. Similarly, Mary Douglas (2003) also points out the dichotomy between order and disorder but also notes that the context in which a given material appears is critical. Waste is a category of things that are as a rule located outside of the order of things. Thus, a fear of danger emerges and waste is simply considered unclean. Just like uncleanliness, waste, too, is a category that has political consequences and may result in a certain form of social ostracization. Many examples from history demonstrate the persecution of the Jews in medieval towns and of this minority poisoning urban drinking-water supplies. Another example is the deposition of waste by large companies near the homes of the poorest inhabitants of a city, ethnic minorities (Melosi 2005), or humiliating professions, such as the work done by the lowest castes in India––sewer and toilet cleaners and excrement collectors. Therefore, as Douglas points out, it is necessary to ask not just for whom are rules of cleanliness advantageous but also who do they disqualify (Douglas 2003). In every period in history, elements of recycling and reusing artefacts can be observed. On one hand, such practices reflect purely economic aspects associated with difficult technological processes and rare raw materials. The categorization of objects is liquid; they move “from treasure to trash and back again” (Joyce 2012). On the other hand, the symbolic value that a reused artifact once possessed cannot be overlooked. To clarify terminology, it should be noted that recycling is a process in which a given object is returned to the production process, in which the material from which it is made is used to make a new object. In contrast, the use of a currently unused, or damaged, artefact and the modification of its primary function to serve another, secondary, function is

20 called reuse. Whether or not it is worth reusing a given artefact in this manner is largely determined by one factor: the amount of energy invested in making it in the first place. Recycling is essentially a natural algorithm for dealing with waste, thanks to which the material an artefact is made from can be reused once the object itself ceases to function or is no longer needed. Likewise, every period in history has introduced technological changes that have had an impact not just on the composition and quantity of waste, but also on how waste can be reused. For example, metals can be relatively easily recycled, whereas stone can only be reused, in limited ways at that. In the broadest sense, waste can be viewed from two different angles. In the first view, waste is seen as a purely technical problem associated with a particular place that results from the presence of people and does not give any thought to the broader context of waste management beyond just material issues. How waste is eliminated is also based on technical principles, and there is an awareness that this issue will occur repeatedly. Approaching waste as a technical category of a certain kind of problem, however, does not reflect the social causes of the production of waste. Material culture should be viewed in such a way that it joins together people and artefacts in a certain system, or network. This relationship must be viewed as part of the relationships inherent in all societies. From the second angle, waste is viewed as something indivisible from the society that created it. How waste is eliminated then is based on a change in how this material is viewed. In both cases, however, an important role is played by economic factors, which can, to a large extent, act as prevention against the creation of pollution and pollution that already exists. For example, if all raw materials were bought back, pollution could be avoided to a large extent. Here an important role is played by social rules and an emphasis on supporting recycling, reusing, and repairing all present materials and artefacts. In other words, it can be said that if waste is not approached as a material constantly accompanying all human activities and at the same time as a material that has

21 some value, then the problems associated with waste will never be successfully dealt with.

As has already been mentioned, value perceptions have a fundamental impact on how people treat particular materials and objects (including waste). Here, we can speak about three basic categories of value. The first is material value. Material value stems from the amount of energy invested in producing an object or from the rarity of the material used. The second is social value. Here, an ideal example is a musical instrument whose value goes up substantially because it was once owned by a famous musician. The third category is environmental value, in which the impact of the artefact or material on the environment is taken into account. Even though the latter value is not sufficiently widespread in today’s mainstream Euro-American society, there are signs that environmental value may become more and more relevant in the future. This can happen by emphasizing education and accepting the idea that the resources Earth provides are finite. With increased awareness and a certain level of economic contentment, society will begin to seek out alternatives to today’s fast-pasted consumerism. A recent article published in the journal Nature by Walter S. Stahel (2016) presents one such alternative in the form of the circular economy, which, unlike the consumerist linear economy, emphasizes the circulative reuse of materials and objects through repair and modification.

Historical waste can tell us about environmental problems associated with waste material and demonstrate the solutions past societies used to deal with this material. Even though the argument can be made that the amount and composition of waste has significantly changed since the Industrial Revolution, it is important to note that the natural laws forcing people to manage their environment have not changed since prehistoric times, primarily because humans and their basic needs have not changed significantly since then.

Even though the amount of waste produced has changed as a result of technological progress and with the growing population of the Earth, the circumstances under which and reasons waste has been produced have not changed. Understandably, we produce much more waste today than in Roman times, for the simple reason that the population was not so large at the time. A vast majority of households owned practical and humble furnishings; the items they did have they used as long as was possible. As Weeber (2006) writes, today’s massive production of packaging did not exist at the time and non- biodegradable materials were unknown. Ceramic vessels though are a certain exception because they were used to package material that needed to be transported, and due to their non-existent economic value were deposited by the millions at Monte Testaccio in Rome.

Everything has its roots in meeting the needs of people. Therefore, lessons learned from history can be applied today, even though past strategies must be modified to accommodate the current composition of waste materials and the social hierarchy. Some examples of current waste management methods and attitudes towards materials may even be similar to methods that were successfully used in the past. The purpose of this dissertation is to study the history of a certain phenomenon and reflect the findings in the context of contemporary society.

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Study I.

WASTE MANAGEMENT IN HUNTER-GATHERER COMMUNITIES3

FILIP HAVLÍČEK

Department of Environmental Studies, Masaryk University, Brno, Czech Re- public, email: [email protected]

Received: 22nd June 2015, Accepted: 12th October 2015

Even a space ape must urinate. Desmond Morris

ABSTRACT

This article describes examples of material and waste management with a focus on select Upper Paleolithic and Mesolithic sites. It examines the structuring of space and landscape from the perspective of waste management as a certain need of natural human behavior. The article touches on the concept of purity and on defining the creation of waste. Key words: Waste, Paleolithic, Mesolithic, Purity, Hunters, Gatherers, Land- scape, Environmental history

INTRODUCTION

John Pichtel, in his otherwise engaging book Waste Management Practices, writes in an early chapter entitled “A Brief History of Waste Management,” „

3This article was written with support Ekologicky příznivé varianty životního způsobu 2: Cesta do města (EVAR2). Kód projektu: MUNI/A/0769/2013 28

When wastes accumulated, nomadic people would simply move to another location.” (Pichtel, 2005; p. 21). This idea represents a stereotype that often comes up when we think about human history. Pichtel's claim leads us to look more closely at the issue of waste and to look for real evidence for the assumption that a certain form of waste management can be found in the earliest history of nomadic hunter-gather cultures. The creation of waste material is a process that occurs naturally when an organism interacts with its environment. In a broader sense, the creation of waste material is an unavoidable process involved in human existence on Earth. There- fore, I consider waste and waste management to be an anthropological constant (or universal), the result of the metabolism of human society, and an environ- mentally adaptive element of human nature. Waste is a necessary product of human society that should, however, be reused (O’Brian, 2008). Waste is a real result of human action (not human thought or conviction) that can be used as an indicator of the actual lifestyle of a given society (Malina, 1981) although I also assume that reflection on impurity includes reflections on the relationship between order and disorder (Douglas, 1966). The material focused on in this paper is primarily cooking and hunting waste and waste products of artifact production. I avoid the study of funerals: funeral rituals from the Middle Paleolithic and onwards are loaded with symbolism and ritualization, the interpretation of which would require another entire article. Too little is known about the realities of burial practices in the studied period for this phenomenon to be studied in relation to waste management practices of the given communities. Although it would also be interesting to study the waste resulting from the human digestive system or the locations of “latrines,” I will also avoid describing the management of human excrement as waste, particularly due to the fact that this material from the studied period cannot found (as a result of its composition). Here, we can expect a certain spatial organization system existed. Alt-

29 hough, I do not deal with the question of excrement, it should be realized that this socially excluded and taboo material must have played an important role in the spatial arrangement of settlements. This material also played a significant role for non-human organisms (Reno, 2013). The earliest period in human history, the Old Stone Age, or the Lower Paleo- lithic, was also the longest period in the history of our species. It was in this period that the anatomy and behavioral capabilities of today's Homo sapiens were fully formed. The physical as well as psychological characteristics of humankind are the products of evolutionary history, without an understanding of which the causalities in the life of this hominid cannot be understood. Therefore, I view humans as socially territorial animals as the "third chimpanzee (Diamond, 1991), in whose life culture and society play a fully fundamental role. It is also logical that culture (in the broadest sense of the meaning) had to develop chronologically later than most of our biological and psychological capacities (Ste- vens, 2009). Adaptation represents a characteristic critical for the survival of every species. Therefore, the emergence of culture (or art)4 can be considered a form of adaptation, more precisely as a form of extrasomatic adaptation to a given environment (White, 1959). It is remarkable to observe the length of time it took for this trig- ger of further social stratigraphy to appear in archeological contexts. Culture necessarily became an important social glue and fundamental adaptation strategy.5 Despite the fact that Homo sapiens is just one species in the entire “pantheon” of the Earth's inhabitants, it is the clear leader in the production of non- compostable waste material, most likely due to its ability to create artifacts that help it adapt to the environment.

4 Cultures that subsequently influence, for example, how people handle or interpret waste, dirt, and odors (I address this topic later). 5The need to create art most likely emerged with the Aurignacian culture around 40,000 BP (Recall the Chauvet cave art that was created at this time). 30

In this article I attempt to answer the question whether persuasive evidence about deliberate waste management or general material management6 exists in one of the oldest periods in the history of Homo sapiens,7 specifically on the basis of findings from Paleolithic and Mesolithic sites on the European continent.8 Do these sites reveal anything about a social structure or a set of rules that allow certain acts while disallowing others (Giddens, 1999)? So that waste can be worked with as a concept that has its own rules and socio- anthropological role, basic terms need to be defined as does the process of producing waste.

A DEFINITION OF WASTE Waste is broadly defined as unwanted material. The Oxford English Dictionary defines waste as unwanted or unusable material, substances, or by-products.9 A deciding factor in classifying a certain material as waste, however, is the attitude we hold towards it (I address this topic later). Artifacts cease to be used as intended when they become deformed, put aside, forgot, abandoned, etc. (Neustupný, 2011). Post-deposition processes may play a role in interpreting the facts10 (e.g., when structures collapse, the material they are made of gets into the cultural layer11). I work with two basic functional types of material: resources and waste. In many cases, processes are not one-way: resources are not just transformed into waste, but waste can also become a resource. Therefore, in ideal cases waste is

6In some cases, however, it is difficult to determine the boundary between what is waste and what is deposited material. Thus, I try to avoid using the clear-cut term “waste” for all of the examples I present. 7It cannot be assumed that waste management is only relevant for Homo sapiens as a species. At the Oldowan site of Garba in Ethiopia, the remnants of tent structures have been found. The area of the shelter was empty as opposed to its surroundings; no bones, stones, or tools have been found here, and therefore, it was likely a spot for sleeping. The inhabitant of this dwelling was most likely Homo habilis (Leakey, Tobias, Napier, 1964). 8 This time period was chosen because since the Upper Paleolithic the landscape has not significantly changed. The geographic focus was selected on the basis of an abundance of published research findings. 9 Oxford English Dictionary [online]. Oxford University Press, [cited 2014-12-21]. Available online: http://www.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/english/waste. 10The diversity of natural processes may play a role in changes in spatial patterns constructed by human activities (Kroll & Price, 1991). 11If a tent construction made of large bones falls apart, its remains may look like a deposit of waste bones. In some cases, however, under the bones the remnants of an interior hearth and various other artifacts may be found. 31 essentially never created; instead, material is continuously recycled (or reused).12 Consequently, ways to reuse these materials are sought out. Material deposits, where starting in Paleolithic times people accumulated at least some defunct artifacts, play a significant anthropological role in the artifact-waste transformation process. Many aspects of waste deposits can be observed: their location in relation to other functional areas (such as dwellings), their specialization, whether they were built underground or on the surface, their relationship to other natural conditions, and any transformations they may have undergone (Neustupný, 2011). Dwelling spaces (particularly hearths) play a significant role in the interpretation of waste. In situations where the structure13 of a dwelling can be determined, we can begin to speculate about waste management practices that were carried out in each part of the dwelling.

RELATIONSHIP TOWARDS WASTE The issue of waste in human society is primarily an issue of the attitudes that people have towards waste. Whether or not an object becomes waste depends on the attitude we have towards it. Attitudes contain three components: a cognitive component (convictions), an emotional component, and a behavioral component (the actual results of actions) (Dimaggio, 1997). Due to the period of time focused on in this study, the archeological contexts of finds are the main objects of study. Therefore, I focus mainly on the behavioral component.14 Behavioral archeology attempts to define the rules of human behavior that are mirrored in artifact structure (Schiffer, 1976). Differentiating between the systematic context and the archeological context is crucial (Schiffer, 1976), that is, between the initial state in which an artifact was deposited as part of a living so-

12Reutilization is a process in which an artifact is reused for a purpose other than that for which it was intended. In contrast, recycling is a process in which material is returned to the production process. 13 When a dwelling is divided into sections—a production and working area, a place for sleeping, and a hearth—waste management practices in each part of the dwelling can be compared. 14 This component is the only one that archeology can provide relevant evidence of. Interpretations of feelings and justifications are only assumptions as there is no one alive to ask about these issues. 32 cial environment and the archeological context that the artifact has been found in (Neustupný, 2011). From the behavioral perspective, it is necessary to look behind archeological artifacts taken out a specific context for processes that the artifacts have already gone through in the systematic context (Kuna & Němcová, 2012). Whether an object is or is not waste and how it will be dealt with is determined by whether or not the object is considered pure or impure. As a rule, waste has connotations of something impure. Classifying things as impure (and pure) is a universal part of culture (that differs from culture to culture) (Douglas, 1966). This type of categorization most likely contributed to the health of the individual (and community) and may have become an adaptive behavior (through natural selection).

WASTE IN RELATION TO DWELLINGS

Perhaps the most abundant findings from the entire Stone Age consist of stone flakes resulting from the production of tools (which understandably do not decompose, in contrast to most organic materials). They are often found in great concentrations in one place, known as workshops (individual flakes can of course be found over the entire area of a settlement). 15 Tool workshops are often located around hearths as is the case with the Ger- man sites of Poggenwisch and Borneck, where hundreds of such artifacts have been found in hearths nearby summer tents dated to 8,500 BCE (Rust, 1948).16 In the 1960s a Magdalenian settlement was discovered at the Pincevent site near Montereau-Fault-Yonne, France by the Seine River. Each dwelling was demar- cated by the density of findings, and therefore it was possible to divide each into three units. Each unit consisted of a hearth, an area with no findings (perhaps bedding for sleeping?), a curved space with bone and stone artifacts, a work ar-

15In some cases post-deposition processes can play a significant role. 16Remarkable large stone slabs found in some Paleolithic habitations most likely served as insulation against moisture (Jelínek, 1977). 33 ea, and an entrance space (Leroi-Gourhan, 1966). On the basis of these facts, the division of living spaces is quite clear, and each space played a specific role in the life of its inhabitant.17 Here, too, stone tools were mostly concentrated around a central hearth, where on an area of approximately 1.5 m² more than one thousand were found (Jelínek, 1977). On the basis of the presence of these workshops around a hearth, either outside or inside dwellings, it can be likely determined in was part of the year the site was utilized (it can be assumed that a workshop located inside a shelter was used in the winter).

Fig. 2: Excavation of a mammoth bone accumulation in Mezine, Ukraine (Soffer et al. 1997)

Accumulations of large, predominantly mammoth, bones are worthy of particular attention. In Central Europe, at a site in Dolní Věstonice an accumulation of mammoth bones (a 12 m wide and 45 m long accumulation of 40 cm thick bones) was discovered. The leader of the excavation interpreted it as a waste heap (Absolon, 1945). Another excavation leader, Bohuslav Klíma,

17 The Magdalenian Culture is an Upper Paleolithic culture dating from 11,000–17,000 BCE. It was named after the Magdalene shelter site in Dordogne, France. 34 shared the same opinion (Jelínek, 1977). Two theories about “waste” in Paleolithic settlements exist. (There is perhaps even a third theory that combines the first two). On the one hand, this “waste” could be the remains of a hunt. On the other hand, hunters and gathers could have built their camps near carrion in order to obtain raw materials (see Oliva, 2003). There is most likely more relevant evidence for the first theory, that is, that the bones are the remains of hunting or collecting dead animals and are the results of anthropogenic activities.18 The question of mammoth-bone accumulations is still debated today. This question has yet to have been fully solved. Mammoth-bone accumulations could have also served as a source of construction material (as evidenced by mammoth-bone structures in Ukraine, which I shall mention later) or as a source of fuel in order to reduce the use of wood (Boscha, 2012). These bones may have also been used to cover Paleolithic graves, as trophies, as material to produce tools, or for a combination of these and other functions.19 However, the fact that large bones and tusks were intentionally deposited at one specific place in a settlement is critical, no matter how they were then used. This raises the fact that what may seem like waste to us today was not necessarily waste in the past and most likely was not (i.e., waste that in essence did not negatively affect human health, such as decomposing organic materials). Mammoth-bone accumulations have been also been discovered in Eastern Eu- rope, specifically at Ukrainian sites. Tusks and bones were used to construct Upper Paleolithic dwellings as findings at the Molodova and Telmanskaya sites indicate. In contrast, a dwelling at the Telmanskaya site in Ukraine contained many quartz flakes but hardly any tusks and bones (or other flakes). Many tusks

18Elephant graveyards, places where generation after generation of these animals have supposedly gone to die, have never been found in reality (Oliva, 2003). 19Many human artifacts reflect their social value and do not serve any practical purposes (e.g., royal crowns, golden swords). Thus, the meaning of things is imparted by us as human beings. The key to interpreting some artifacts can (and could) be found in the heads of members of a living society and is a kind of unwritten social contract. The symbolism of human artifacts is completely dependent on the symbolism of human behavior, and ultimately their relationship is causal (see Komárek, 2000). On the other hand, it is also true that the subjective and objective cannot be separated (whether we are talking of prehistoric cultures, modern pre-industrial cultures, or modern industrial society) and that every action, even one that is seemingly fully practical in nature, has a symbolic and social dimension (Oliva, 2003). 35 and bones (as well as flakes) were found outside of this structure (Jelínek, 1977). It is likely that a considerable role was played here by the functional division of space, with which waste management was substantially related. Certain spatial rules can be assumed to exist. Another site is also located in Ukraine. In Pushkari another dwelling made of mammoth tusks and bones was discovered (made of about 1,500 mammoth tusks, among other materials). In addition to the fact that the mammoth bones show no sign of having been worked, there was a remarkable finding of red paint amongst the findings. Such paint was found no were else in the cultural layer (Jelínek, 1977). This fact is also evidenced by the decorative painting of mammoth bones and tusks (as were found at the Mezin site, also located in Ukraine) (Pidoplichko, 1998). All of these findings suggest that these bones likely played an important sociocultural role in hunter-gatherer communities; they definitely cannot be considered to be mere accumulations of waste material. Of course the situation can differ from case to case; therefore, every agglomeration of bones cannot be simply generalized as having ritual, cult, or symbolic significance. In some cases large bones and tusks were deposited (but not directly used for construction purposes) in some structures as their location on the bottom and not the surface of the cultural layer indicates (Jefimenko, 1958). Moving more to the east to what is today’s Russia, we can find one structure at the Kostenki I site made of regularly spaced, upward-facing mammoth tusks that form arches. These structures did not likely serve as dwellings. Instead, they were probably some form of healing space similar to a sauna. Classic hearths are not located here. Only layers of ash and bone char were found. At the same time, it was a very cramped space (Rogačev, 1955). These structures clearly had a medicinal function and are evidence of deliberate hygiene strategies being applied already in the Upper Paleolithic. These structures are reminiscent of Native American sweat lodges (Figure 3).

At the Bureť site by the Angara River in Eastern Siberia, what was thought to be a large bone-waste pit was discovered. It was, however, later determined that this accumulation of bones was deposited in a shallow depression surrounded by a bowl-shaped depression filled with charred wood remains indicating what was certainly a hearth (Jelínek, 1977). Thus, it can be concluded that it was a building made of bones that collapsed into what is reminiscent of chaotically deposited animal remains. Therefore, large bone accumulations cannot simply be interpreted as mere settlement waste. A felicitous ethnographic parallel can be found amongst Siberian Eskimos who use the bones of large mammals (whale jaws and ribs) to build winter dwellings in a manner similar to Paleolithic hunters. The use of such materials is the result of an environment that does not provide enough wood to produce dwellings (Binford, 1978).

Fig. 2: Model of a “Men's Outside Hearth” (Binford, 1978)

Fig. 3: A Native American sweat lodge [online] http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2011/03/02/sweat-lodge-trial-fuels-native- american-frustrations/[cited 2014-12-21]. Available online. (archived at the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History)

From these examples, we can see that in many cases bone accumulations are the remnants of dwelling structures or the deposition of material that was used in a certain way. Bones (especially large ones) were not thrown away as waste material at any site (Jelínek, 1977). On the basis of the observation of an Eskimo hunting stand (the Mask site in Alaska), L. R. Binford, a leading ethno-archeologist, has created the Men’s Outside Hearth Model (Figure 2), which describes the distribution of objects around a hearth (Binford, 1978). Two main sections of a settlement can be determined based on artifact size. (Novák, 2006). In the half-circle, inner “drop zone” near the hearth, small objects (stone and bone flakes) that fell on the ground during different activities can be found. These are artifacts that were so small that they did not restrict the users of this space. Binford uses the term “toss zones” to refer to areas with larger artifacts, further away from the hearth, which could have interfered with work. Large objects were thrown away. These objects were located on the settlement’s edge and created the so-called

38 centrifuge effect (Löhr, 1979). Placing waste on the periphery of human settlements is a significant characteristics of human waste management (Douglas, 1966). Organic waste could end up in the hearth as fuel. The question arises of what people did with the ashes that accumulated in the hearth, the central spot in the daily life of prehistoric humans. For example, at the Upper Paleolithic site of Kašov I in Slovakia, 11 areas with an ash layer were identified (these layers contained charcoal and artifacts of the stone-flaking industry.) Some of these areas may have been waste deposit sites, that is, places for depositing ashes after cleaning the hearth and organic material. One concentration was discovered in the center of the excavation site. Others were found in all four directions (Novák, 2006). The Pinceventve site in France provides evidence for ash management. Hearth cleaning has been detected here (Jelínek, 1977). Materials that were not destroyed by heat (e.g., shells) were often deposited in special places. Middens, or shell middens (in Danish køkkenmøddinger and in Spanish conchales), are examples of waste areas and waste management practices (present already at the end of the Paleolithic but more prevalent particularly in the Mesolithic). They consist of deposits of primarily cooking waste (kitchen midden) (Figure 4). In such areas a large spectrum of artifacts, ecofacts, botanic material, and even excrement can be found. As a rule, however, they are made mostly of mollusc shells (usually 50% and more) (Stein, 1992). These materials were systematically deposited in one specific place and accumulated over the course of thousands of years.20 21

20As a rule, middens located near bodies of water (which served as sources of food for the creators of middens) have been preserved due their moist, oxygen-free environment. Thanks to this fact, it is not a rare occurrence to find artifacts made from organic materials as well, which help accurately date the sites (Stein, 1992). 21 The word midden literally means a hill or pile of waste material. 39

Fig. 4: Excavation of a shell midden in Ertebølle, Denmark (Gutiérrez- Zugasti et al. 2011)

REUTILIZATION

Resources can never be limitless. This first rule of competition between organisms must not be forgotten. As a rule, a resource will sooner or later become waste, but at the same time under certain circumstances waste itself can become a resource. It all depends on the perspective with which we look at the material. Molluscs are a source of food and cultural artifacts, such as jewellery made from shells, etc. Recycling is essentially a natural algorithm for waste management. It is an elegant technique, thanks to which we can use the material an object is made of even once that object is no longer needed. It is not surprising then that this method must have have been applied long ago in prehistoric times. One of the oldest documented examples of recycling is the Upper Paleolithic reutilization of stone, which is attested to by stone tools found at the site of Molí del Salt in Spain. Here it was proven that one artifact was reused for various tools (Vaquero, 2012). Both ethnographic and archeological studies are in

40 agreement that recycling or reutilization are techniques that reflect a de facto lack of material resources (Vaquero, 2012) and may reflect a growing need for more efficient behavior. Thus, the reutilization of artifacts could have played an important role in the technological behavior of our Upper Paleolithic ancestors.

EXPERIMENT: CHARRING MUSSEL SHELLS In studying shell middens, the question of their purpose must be raised. The described examples of dealing with what is more-or-less waste material indicate deliberate management practices.

Fig. 5: Experimental burning of blue mussel (Mytilus edulis) shells

Why then couldn’t material from mussels be reused (for example, as fuel as bones were)?22 I have taken part in an experiment in which we attempted to char blue mussel (Mytilus edulis) shells in a hearth and then use this shell material as an alternative source of fuel. The main fuel used in this hearth of approximately 1m in diameter was pine wood (Pinus sylvestris), which has been proven to have grown in Europe during the Paleolithic and the Mesolithic (Haws, 2004). We assumed that the shells of these aquatic mollusks would not char due to the fact that they contain a great amount of calcium. In my opinion it is possible that if

22If we do not include jewelry-making, etc. 41 shells did char, as is the case with oily, porous bones, they could be used as a source of fuel. The shells, however, did not char, and it is likely that no other use was found for this material. In our experiment, after spending eight hours in an intensive fire, the shells showed no significant signs of having broken down. This was mostly likely caused by their chemical composition as they contain bicarbonate calcium, the building block of shells.

A HISTORY OF AROMAS AND ODORS

Waste is also inherently linked to odors and how they are interpreted. We can hardly examine the sense of smell and related psychological and biological processes from any other perspective than that of evolution and culture, on the basis of which an entire range of cultural and social alternatives can be built that as a result reflect social or cultural identity. Certainly, biology is at play here as well. It is highly likely that every member of any culture that has ever existed would prefer the scent of a flower over the smell of manure. On the other hand, odor preferences and how these odors are interpreted will certainly vary in the cultures of South America and Southeast Asia (Classen, 1994). Like all human senses, smell is directly related to human memory (Pawłowska, 2014). In my opinion, it is possible that the development of waste management is directly related to the odor trail of waste. In other words, odors warn organisms of a harm- ful environment and force them either to solve the problem or move to another place. The interpretation of the self, the social world, and the environment are all built to no small extent on the perception of odors. In one culture “stinky” cheese may be considered a delicacy whereas in another raw fish may be en- joyed23. The subjectivity of cultural appreciation is firmly founded in our biological nature. It is also important to realize that imitating taste and preferences is

23One such example is Casu Marzu (rotten cheese), which is a traditional Sardinian sheep cheese containing live insects, larvae of the species Piophila casei. The large amount of maggots that the cheese contains is consumed along with the cheese. Here we can observe a “clash” of cultural values because European Union legislation at one point declared this cheese to be unhygienic and outlawed its production. Later, the ban on this cheese was lifted due to its regional cultural heritage. 42 essentially nothing other than adapting to a certain society with which one would like to identify.

CONCLUSIONS

Waste deposits created by people in specific places and the use of waste material for certain purposes are clear proof of waste management in the early Upper Paleolithic. Based on excavations of individual Upper Paleolithic and Mesolithic sites, a spatial pattern of such objects cannot be generalized. Every situation is unique and corresponds to the given natural, and perhaps even cultural, conditions. A certain regularity, however, can be assumed. A large number of stone artifacts are found near hearths, where tools were produced. Pieces of bone are found in hearths and served as fuel, amongst other things. In other cases, large bones were used for support in structures.24 Organic waste, at least in the case of shell middens, was deposited in one specific place. Upon examining ethnological parallels, direct similarities can be found between the lifestyles of Paleolithic and Mesolithic cultures and the indigenous peoples who inhabit taiga and tundra areas today. These cultures are linked by a way of life and the related adaptation to environmental conditions (Jelínek, 1977). The archeology of waste focuses on manifestations of waste material in relation to the society that created this material. Archeological field methods can be applied to our current society’s landfills as Rahje and Murphy having been doing since the 1970s in the southwestern United States (Rathje & Murphy, 1992). Ethnological observations have contributed to understanding waste produced today and the relationship between people and things (Sosna & Brunclíková, 2013) and to understanding the sociology of waste in relation to wasting food (Evans et.al, 2013). Environmental history, a field I have drawn from in this paper, attempts to contribute to revealing relationships and causes that lead to pressure on living

24A lone lion skull was found at the Alexandrovka site (Kostienki IV). It was lying on the surface of the cultural layer and was likely used to decorate the dwelling (Rogačev, 1955). The discovery of an aurochs skull at the Kostienki I has been interpreted in the same manner (Jefimenko, 1958). 43 and non-living nature and rejects the assumption that human experience is exempt from natural connections and that people are a species that is above nature and that the consequences of human behavior towards the environment can be disregarded (Kušková, 2008). Traditional history cannot do this as it is environmental history that attempts to describe more than just geopolitical and economic relationships. Environmental history can be a history of culture, focused on what people think about nature, and how they have expressed those ideas (Hughes, 2001). Although to some degree I feel as if I have been trying to reinvent the wheel, I still think that this paper can help break down a certain stereotype (that prehistoric humans had no problems with waste). I have examined a mere fraction of the waste strategies that existed in our deep environmental history but which clearly demonstrate a deliberate strategy for using material, which we can assume was more-or-less waste. Our ancestors had to manage waste for the same reason we do today: in the long-term doing so is more beneficial. Waste is a problem that always needs to be dealt with.

REFERENCES

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Leakey, L. S. B., Tobias, P. V., Napier, J. R. (1964). A new species of Homo from Olduvai George. Nature 202. Leroi-Gourhan, A. (1964). Legeste et la parole. Paris. Malina, J. (1981). Archeologie včera a dnes. Brno. Morris, D. (1967). The Naked Ape: A Zoologist's Study of the Human Animal. Jonathan Cape. Neustupný, E. (2011). In: Kuna, M. Archeologie pravěkých Čech 1 - Pravěký svět a jeho poznání. Praha: Archeologický ústav AV ČR, Praha, v.v.i. Novák, M. (2006). Priestorová analýza paleolitických sídlisk. Distribúcia artefaktov na gravettienskych sídliskách Pavlov a Kašov. Přehled výzkumu. Brno: Archeologický ústav AV ČR v Brně, Oliva, M. (2003). K výzkumu akumulací mamutích kostí aneb “věda” s rozumem v koncích. Archeologické rozhledy LV-2003. Praha: AV ČR. O’Brian, M. A. (2008.). Crisis of Waste?: Understanding the Rubbish Society. New York and London: Routledge. Pawłowska, K. (2014). The smells of Neolithic Çatalhöyük. Turkey: Time and space of human activity. Journal of Anthropological Archaeology. Volume 36. 2014. Pichtel, J. (2005). Waste management practices. Municipal, Hazardous, and Industrial. New York: CRC Press. Pidoplichko, I. G. (1998). Upper Palaeolithic Dwellings of Mammoth Bones in the Ukraine. Oxford. Reno, J. O. (2014). Toward a New Theory of Waste: From 'Matteroutof Place' to Signs of Life. Theory, Culture & Society vol. 31 num. 6. Schiffer, M. B. (1976). Behavioural Archeology, New York - San Francisko - London: Academic Press.

Soffer, O., Adovasio, J. M., Kornietz, N. L., Velichko, A. A., Gribchenko, N. Y., Brett, R. L. Suntsov, V. Y. (1997). Cultural stratigraphy at Mezhirich, an Upper Palaeolithic site in Ukraine with multiple occupations. Volume: Antiquity 71 Number: 271. Stein, K. J. (1992). Deciphering a shellmidden. Academic Press. Stevens, A. (2009). The Two Million-Year-Old Self. Texas A&M University Press. College Station. Svoboda, J. (2014). Předkové: evoluce člověka. Praha. Academia. White, Leslie A. (1959). The Evolution of Culture: The development of Civilization to the Fall of Rome. New York: McGraw-Hill. Worster, D. (1988). The Ends of the Earth: Perspectives on Modern Environmental History. Cambridge University Press. Rathje, W., Murphy, C. (1992.) Rubbish! The Archaeology of Garbage. Tucson: University of Arizona Press. Ridley, M. (1996). The Origins of Virtue. London: Viking (Penguin Books). Rogačev, A. N. (1955). Alexandrovskoje poselenije drevnie kamennogo veka u sela Kostienki na Donu. Moskva. Rust, A. (1948). Neueendglaziale Funde von kultech religiöserBedeutung. Ur- Schweiz (Basilej), XII. Sosna, D., Brunclíková, L. (2013). Archaeologies of the Unwanted: Rubbish in Human World. Presented at School of Anthropology and Conservation. University of Kent. December 5, 2013. Vaquero, M. (2012). Temporal nature and recycling of Upper Paleolithic artifacts: the burned tools from the Molí del Salt site (Vimbodí i Poblet, northeastern Spain): Journal of Archaeological Science 39.

Study II.

WASTE MANAGEMENT AT THE END OF THE STONE AGE

1 2 FILIP HAVLÍČEK , MARTIN KUČA

1Dep. of Environmental Studies, Masaryk Uni., Brno, Czech Republic, e-mail: [email protected] 2Town Museum Moravský Krumlov, Moravský Krumlov, Czech Republic, e- mail: [email protected]

Received: 19th February 2017, Accepted: 22th May 2017

MOTTO:

The unconsciousness of every culture is particularized in its waste. Thomas Hylland Eriksen

ABSTRACT

This article describes examples of waste management systems from archaeological sites in Europe and the Middle East. These examples are then contextual- ized in the broader perspectives of environmental history. We can confidently claim that the natural resource use of societies predating the Lower Palaeolithic was in equilibrium with the environment. In sharp contrast stand communities from the Upper Palaeolithic and onwards, when agriculture appeared and provided opportunities for what seemed like unlimited expansion.

Keywords: Waste, waste management, Neolithic, Chalcolithic, cleanliness, environmental history

INTRODUCTION

Every individual as well as every human society produces waste; therefore, it is remarkable how few studies have been dedicated to gaining a deeper understanding of the relationship between humans and waste. Waste, in the broadest sense of the word, is produced by all types of life; it is also a part of the relationships between biotic organisms and their environment. Nonetheless, for us, human beings, waste is relegated to the margins of our world. Waste is a permanent and practically ubiquitous category of things. Humankind’s propensity for producing significantly more waste than other animals is explained by the fact that people adapt to their environments not only through biological evolution, but also with the help of culture and artefacts; therefore, humans produce more waste than animals, which do not make any artefacts. With greater technological advancements and population growth (mainly as a result of a settled way of life) the amount of produced artefacts as well as waste has grown exponentially from prehistoric times until the present.25 Understandably, settled societies anchored in one specific place over an extended period of time produce more waste than nomadic hunter-gatherer societies; the most likely explanation is that in settled societies the burdens associated with mobility largely fall to the wayside. At the beginning of Neolithic Age the greatest socioeconomic change to have taken place in history up to that point occurred—that is, the transition from a hunter-gatherer economy to planned agriculture and animal herding. The Neo- lithic Demographic Transition (NDT) that the settled way of life caused sparked

25 The Industrial Revolution can be considered a watershed moment, when the amount and variability of waste began to significantly diversify.

49 changes from which there was no way back. Another likely consequence of the NDT was the development of social practices associated with higher population densities and the reflection of this environmental change on human health (Bocquet-Appel & Bar-Yosef, 2008). Whether the Neolithic Revolution was driven by society’s inner needs, was a side effect of changes in ideology or religion (Mithen, 2011; Cauvin & Watkins, 2000), or was the product of external natural pressures, such as adaptation to climate change (Richerson et al., 2001) or declining food sources (Martin, 1984), the hunter-gatherer economy was replaced by one based on agriculture and livestock breeding. Of the many well-known differences between hunter-gather societies and agricultural societies there is one that sticks out in particular and is of great importance for this article—the organized disposal of waste, which Ofer Bar-Yosef and Richard Meadow have described as a typical feature of settled societies (Bar-Yosef & Meadow, 1995).26 On the basis of these differences, we shall describe waste management phenomena in the Neolithic and Chalcolithic, which, we assume, reflect older Pleistocene origins.

DEFINING AND CATEGORIZING WASTE

Bjørnar Olsen writes that in the social sciences there is a resurgence of interest in studying objects and material to understand society through design, landscape, modern material culture, and so on (Olsen, 2010). One focus of this re- newed interest has been on studying ordinary household waste, which processu- al archaeologists began doing in the 1960s. Waste and the societies that create it cannot be studied as separate entities; they must be viewed together as a whole. Evžen Neustupný notes that waste de-

26 George P. Murdock (1945) included on his list of universal characteristics of every human society attitudes towards cleanliness, which are closely related to waste management practices. In another article I have examined waste management in Paleolithic hunter-gatherer societies (Havlíček, 2015), providing a counterargument to the existence of such a historical watershed with the emergence of settlements. 50 posits contain information that is fundamental “for understanding the spatial arrangement of elements of archaeological sources in many prehistoric periods” (Neustupný, 1998; 39). Here, it is necessary to define several terms to avoid later misunderstandings about different categories of waste. Even though categorizing waste can be a very fluid affair that often cannot provide clear-cut definitions, it will be useful to at least provide a broad description of different types of waste. We shall use the term waste to refer to material that is permanently and intentionally thrown away with no further plans for its use. Thus, waste is material that could be fully discarded because its reuse was impossible or would require an excessive amount of energy. The term rubbish (see Thompson’s “rubbish theory”) refers to objects that have momentarily lost their value, but which may imaginably be of use again in the future. Examples of recycling and reuse can be discerned in the historical period at the center of our study. We hypothesize that the more energy is initially invested in producing an artefact, the greater the likelihood that this object will be defined as rubbish.27 We assume that this category will include worn-out and broken stone artefacts, considering the fact that stone28 as a raw material is hard to recy- cle or reuse.29 This phenomenon has been observed at the Neolithic site of By- lany, where rubbish occurs rarely in waste deposits (Květina, 2010). As Květina notes (2010), in pre-industrial societies recycling (or reuse) was limited to worn-out vessels or large fragments thereof, metal or ground stone tools, or broken instruments, all materials that we could consider rubbish.

27As a rule, people do not work more than they have to. This principle, which Hayden & Cannon (1983) describe in their ethno-archeological work, can be considered a constant feature in the human species.

28Ground tools could be reutilized more easily and therefore they may have ended up categorized as rubbish.

29Thanks to Vaquero’s (2012) work on the reutilization of stone in the Paleolithic, we can assume that it did occur to some extent in the Neolithic and Chalcolithic.

In the Neolithic and Chalcolithic Ages, we can find an array of waste-like material consisting mainly of compostable kitchen waste;30 animal and human excrement (which can be reused as fertilizer); ashes, which also can be reused for many purposes, including fertilizing (Guttmann et al., 2006) and washing (Havlíček, 2017; in press); and other defective household items,31 as well as waste from artefact production and building materials (Květina, 2010) (Fig. 1). 32

Fig. 1: Figure 1 (Author: Filip Havlíček)

M. B. Schiffer (1987) provides another definition, one that does not differentiate between rubbish and waste, but which defines waste as any object that can-

30 In many cases, one’s man’s waste can literally become another’s treasure, and vice versa. Verhart and Wansleeben (1997) describe how the waste of one culture may become a valuable source of material in another (even if only of ritual importance). For example, seashells were used from the Paleolithic onward for making jeweler, but the same type of material was also discarded in large amounts to produce shell middens (køkkenmødding).

31Pottery is the most frequently discovered artefact by archeologists. It could be recycled, or reused, by grinding broken pottery shards and putting this material into pottery clay (Hložek et al., 2006).

32Tell settlements will be discussed below.

52 not serve its original purpose or any other secondary one, and thus has introduced the terms primary refuse, secondary refuse, and de facto refuse, a classification which M. Kuna has developed further to include tertiary refuse (Neustupný, 1996; 496). On the basis of ethnological analogies, Schiffer (1987; 59–64) demonstrates that settlements were usually maintained for long periods of time and that primary refuse was brought to a predetermined location, where it then became secondary refuse. Scholars, however, prefer the term tertiary waste for this phenomenon because waste in such pits was the result of water’s effect on the landscape; it was not until the Middle Ages that pits were intentionally dug for storing waste (Sommer, 1991, 101; Neustupný, 2007, 70). Mining waste is another category of waste. There are many Neolithic sources of materials for producing chipped and ground stone tools in Central Europe, several of which have been studied, for example, the metabasite deposits in the Jizera Mountains that also feature a countless amount of occupation waste (cf. Šída, 2007). In the Chalcolithic Age, the stone mining of the Neolithic Age continued, as the land was significantly exploited to gain the materials necessary for producing metals. Surface as well as underground mines have been discovered from both of these periods (Atkinson, 1987). Underground mines from the Neo- lithic and Chalcolithic Ages have been documented, for example, at the Polish site of Krzemionki, where more than 2,500 shafts where flint was mined have been found at depths ranging from five to nine meters (Bąbel, 2008). Gangue was deposited in no-longer operational shafts and thus this unneeded material was used for stabilizing the entire mine system.33 Another example is the Dutch Neolithic stone mine of Rijckholt. Mining and the subsequent processing of minerals resulted in the production of waste in the form of gangue and slag. We know about what is most likely one of the oldest copper-working sites in Europe (dating from the Neolithic Age) thanks to the discovery of slag, the waste resulting from smelting ore (Ruiz-Taboada & Montero-Ruiz, 1999).

33Henk Engelen Rijckholt Flint Mine. Available at http://www.vuursteenmijnen.nl/rijckholt/index.htm

Mining and processing ore resulted in what was likely one of the earliest major environmental problems nearly 7,000 years ago in southern Jordan (Grattan et al., 2016). Slag containing excessive amounts of heavy metals contaminated the soil and water and was then consumed by humans. Analyses of skeletal remains with high lead and copper levels have confirmed that the long-term health problems, infertility, and early deaths that struck this community were the result of poisoning (Grattan et al., 2016). Waste water is another important category of waste that is produced, for example, as a result of personal hygiene practices or production methods.

WASTE STRATEGIES

The Skara Brae settlement on Scotland’s Orkney Islands is of unique archaeological value, and not just for the study of waste.34 It is theorized that here every dwelling had a toilet35 and that there was a drainage system for the entire settlement (Kilroy, 1984). In general, defecation is one of the few bodily functions that can be documented through archaeological sources. At the Çatalhöyük site Ian Hodder hypothesizes that a latrine was located in the north-eastern part of residential spaces (even though one has been documented in only one house). After defecating, bodily waste was taken out of the home and thrown on a dump (which formed middens) (Hodder, 2006). The stone houses were built into middens most likely for insulation and stability. As far as waste strategies are concerned, it is interesting to note that these stone houses were built into middens consisting of waste.36 These deposits are made up of practically all types of possible waste, but kitchen waste dominates. The insulation- and stability-providing

34Skara Brae is likely the most well-preserved Neolithic village in Europe. It is also a UNESCO world heritage site.

35The discovery of moss at a settlement (if moist enough to have been preserved) could point to the presence of a latrine. Thanks to its antiseptic effects, moss was used similarly to how we today use toilet paper (Morton et al., 2010); it was even found on Ötzi, the Chalcolithic man found frozen in the snow of the Alps (Fowler, 2001).

36In an extensive inquiry into hunter-gatherer societies anthropologist Richard B. Lee claims that on average only one-third of people’s diets consisted of fresh meat, the richest and most sought-after source of fat and protein, and that people who had more meat were attributed greater prestige (1986). Thus, we can also theorize that the remaining two-thirds of people’s diets consisted of wild fruits, vegetables, grains, nuts, and eggs.

54 middens of Skara Brae contain a high percentage of the remains of sea creatures (Childe & Clarke, 1983). This waste strategy elegantly found a reuse for everyday refuse. Similar examples of waste-construction strategies have also been discovered at the Neolithic Scottish sites of Rinyo and Links of Noltland. In some cases the walls of Neolithic houses have been found to be made from a mass of organic waste. Thanks to radiocarbon dating we know that this waste was several generations old (Ritchie, 1983). As Thomas (2002) notes, the deni- zens of these houses most likely did not view this “waste” material as something they wanted to get rid of. Thus, this material can be considered rubbish following Thompson’s definition of the term (Thompson, 1979). At Ness of Brodgar, another Orkney Islands site, one midden measures up to five meters in height and is the largest Neolithic waste structure ever found in all of Britain. Waste was deposited outside of the village’s massive stone walls; researchers hypothesize that this dump, besides having a practical use, could have also served as a ceremonial site somehow related to the transformation of waste that occurs in decomposition or as a symbol of the abundance of resources/property (Card, 2011).37 It has already been demonstrated that in the Neolithic organic material from dumps was later applied to the soil to increase crop yields (Simpson et al., 2006). Petr Květina has studied Neolithic non-ceramic waste from a Linear Pottery culture site in Bylany u Kutné hory, Czech Republic. He focused on chipped tool production, ground tool production, stones, polishing stones, quern stones, and the context in which this refuse was deposited nearby houses (Květina, 2010). He established the basic spatial (settlement, economic, and social) unit as a building complex consisting of one Neolithic house and one adjacent pit; these pits are located mainly to the east and west of buildings, although some can be found in the north, but none in the south. Otherwise, they are located within five meters from the likely location of the houses’ walls (Květina, 2010).

37Lewis-Williams & Pearce (2005) discuss in greater detail symbolism, ritual, and changing thought at the turn of the Paleolithic and Neolithic Ages.

The analysis of non-ceramic waste demonstrated that the more houses there were at the settlement the more non-ceramic waste there was, although in rela- tive numbers there was less waste per house (Květina, 2010). This finding may indicate that families shared tools (if we assume that one family dwelled in each house). It is however likely that waste from inhabited houses was deposited in abandoned dwellings (Květina, 2010). Due to the inherent nature of archaeological (i.e., physical) sources, the materials and the context in which they have been found may have been distorted by many cultural and natural processes. Besides abandoned buildings, pits served as secondary dumps,38 which were likely created for other purposes (as wells, for fruit storage, clay mining for mudbricks) (Květina, 2010). Waste management elements typical for agricultural societies, but not hunter- gatherer ones, include activities that take place only in settlements—for example, discarding waste in courtyards, abandoned buildings, and pits, which were initially dug for other purposes (i.e., for extracting clay or stone) (Bar-Yosef & Meadow, 1995). Waste pits were most likely filled quickly, as attested to by the homogeneity of their contents. Neolithic pits may have been used for more than just depositing waste; they also provided a suitable environment for storing food. Pit shape played an important role, and Thomas notes that the shape of Neolithic pits39 were likely unsuitable for storing food, unlike Iron Age conical pits (Thomas, 2002). When interpreting deposited waste, it is important to keep in mind that some objects may have been discarded that were not considered to be waste. Cultural deposition processes are primarily dependent on how the given materials, artefacts, and ecofacts are classified (Moore 1986 in Thomas 2002). Here it is necessary to reflect on the work of Peters & Schmidt (2004), who at Göbekli Tepe

38Julian Thomas (2002) mentions Neolithic waste pits in his work.

39They mostly contain ash, burnt chalk, and residual charred organic material (Thomas, 2002).

56 analyzed the composition of dumps and their bone percentage and compared them to the depictions of animals on stone steles. Occupation debris in Neolithic structures and its interpretation is another category. Researcher Marie Zápotocká (2002) gives a colorful list of artefacts that were concentrated in a waste area. Among waste consisting of stone tool production debris, a large amount of bone material was also found (the presence of awls likely indicates the processing of leather). Zápotocká theorizes that workshops produced not only stone tools but also other implements as well, such as sheathes and sacks for storing artefacts, knife handles, hafts, and so on. There- fore, it seems likely a large spectrum of waste materials can be found in the debris from this workshop. Workshops, however, were not always located directly in settlements (Zápotocká, 2002).40 It is likely that a large amount of waste in the Neolithic and Chalcolithic Ages was “secondary refuse” (that is, waste intentionally deposited at a certain dump site41 outside a residential structure.) Such examples can also be likely documented from the Upper Paleolithic (Neustupný & Vencl, 1995); however, between the Paleolithic and the Neolithic significant quantitative growth occurred largely as a result of the settled way of life and related technological advances.

TELL SETTLEMENTS AND CONSTRUCTION WASTE

As has already been mentioned, in some cases refuse was stored in uninhabit- ed, abandoned houses. Based on the examples of Middle Eastern42 tells,43 we can observe a strategy used by people to adapt to the natural environment and at

40Based on Binford’s model of a “Men's Outside Hearth” (Binford, 1978), we can assume that waste which caused some kind of problem (being sharp, dangerous, or un-reusable) was deposited outside of the settlement or in some other way spatially confined so that its impact was minimized.

41Primary refuse is artefacts and ecofacts that were left “where they were” without any indication of a thought-out waste management system.

42To a much lesser extent, tells are also found in Europe, mainly in the East, from Hungary through the Balkans. They include Jászberény in Hungary and Karanovo in Bulgaria.

43The term tell can still be observed today in the names of some human settlements, such as Tel Aviv in Israel and Tel Afar in Iran.

57 the same time likely used to deal with building waste. When an old house was rebuilt,44 it was left in its original location and a new house was built on the ru- ins; thus, over the course of centuries the ground level of the settlement was constantly rising. It is necessary to point out that this urban planning strategy for developing the earliest agricultural villages (the site of which was predetermined by the location of available water sources) in the Middle East could have helped mitigate the impacts of floods and in general create a safer raised environment with a better view of the surrounding land. The application of the tell settle- ment45 strategy created over the course of centuries a practically vertical settlement stratigraphy with layers that are arranged chronologically.

THE MIDDLE EAST For studying waste management in the Neolithic it is necessary to describe some model cases from the Middle East. This region played a critical role in the initial stages of agriculture, plant breeding, and animal domestication. The Neo- lithic tell of Çatalhöyük in today’s Turkey was selected as a model site. Çatalhöyük is one of the most important Neolithic sites, thanks to the highly precise archaeological research that has been conducted here by Ian Hodder in particular. Considering the large population of this settlement—it is theorized that at one point in time 3,500 to 8,000 people might have lived here (Cessford, 1995)— dealing with waste was more complicated and likely required rules and organization. Ian Hodder writes that “the organization of discard and other activities was highly rule-bound” (Hodder, 2006; 103). Population density and the architectural style of houses in which they were literally stuck to one another with no streets in between them did not make waste

44For example, as a result of generational change.

45Interestingly, a similar strategy that resulted in the artificial rising of terrain can be observed in Medieval towns located near rivers. Flowing water constantly clogged the channel with sediment and thus artificial fill was used to accommodate the changing landscape. The ground floors of Medieval houses are today below-ground cellars. Prague’s old town in a spectacular example of this phenomenon.

58 management an easy feat. It is assumed, however, that inhabitants had to engage in a significant level of cooperation to remove refuse, particularly human and animal fecal matter. Waste was likely deposited in the alleyways between buildings; Hodder speculates that these alleys were not used for walking but demar- cated various “neighborhoods,” which were perhaps based on family affiliation (Hodder, 2006) or on power structures. Some middens are in open spaces and were used over long periods of time; others midden areas were found in abandoned houses. Considering the ratio of houses to midden areas, it is possible that middens that contain, for example, oven ashes, were shared for more houses (Hodder, 2006). Although raw materials for producing chipped stone tools were prepared outside of dwellings in the vicinity of the source of the material (Hodder, 2006), the final modifications to stone tools were made in houses. Waste from this final phase of tool making was then gathered and disposed of in dumps (middens) (Carter et al., 2005 in Hodder, 2006). External middens were used for extended period of time; the also contain entire carcasses, where as other waste deposit areas contain only certain faunal fragments. In contrast, middens in abandoned houses contain only certain bones, not entire skeletons, and more bones that indicate they have been digested. Based on the presence of these partially digested bones, Hodder theorizes that dogs were closed up in these abandoned buildings. Thanks to the discovery of coprolites, we know that dumps contained fecal matter, including, most likely, that of humans. When it came to waste management, the inhabitants of Çatalhöyük clearly differentiated between the inner space of dwellings and the external environment. A quantitative analysis of the densities of all types of materials excavated across the entire site conducted by researcher Cross May (2005) indicates the greatest variation between refuse categories of midden, floor, and fill.

Overall, the buildings at Çatalhöyük were surrounded by deposits containing fecal matter and rotting organic waste. They must have posed health risks; they certainly attracted insects and emitted foul odors. At another Middle Eastern site, Aşıklı Höyük, one dump was located in the same place throughout the entire existence of the settlement (Cross May, 2005). Based on the internal organization of dwellings at Çatalhöyük, we can infer something about how cleanliness was perceived. In all of the studied dwellings the floor is dirtier in the area around the oven and hearth (Hodder, 2006). In contrast, the area where ancestors were buried featured a cleaned, plastered surface. There is even a well-defined groove between the clean and dirty surfaces (Hod- der, 2006). Hodder states that the dirty area was, with some exceptions, in the southern part of the building and was located near the ladder that provided entry from the rooftop. In the northern part of the building, chipped stone tools were produced along with a certain amount of debris. In contrast, the clean part of houses with plaster floors was as a rule in the north and feature less materials on the floor. Hodder also suggests that different parts of the building were made with different materials, which predetermined how certain parts of the house would be used; if this is the case, it would demonstrate clear evidence of a well- thought-out waste management system. A layer of plaster on the floors at Mid- dle Eastern sites may have made keeping them clean easier.46 This plaster was made by mixing burnt and pounded limestone with water. The process was quite difficult. Some researchers think that the number of plaster layers may reflect the wealth of the homeowner (Bar-Yosef & Meadow, 1995). The examples from this site, however, cannot be generalized to cover the entire period; instead they were examples of how waste management solutions were devised to deal with local problems. Nonetheless, due to similarities in the material composition of waste produced in the Neolithic, certain similarities can be expected at other sites.

46A similar example comes from the Romanian site of Uivar (Draşovean & Schier, 2010; 180, p. 23). For a discussion of white plastering on daub, see also Lička & Mach, 2013.

WASTE AND ODOR Odors and waste are usually closely related. Although odor is a cognitive category that may be perceived and interpreted by various cultures and ethnicities differently, an objective perception of foul scents exists, which is based on biology. Our olfactory nerves can inform us of food quality or the environmental conditions that surround us. They help identify potential threats and force us to deal with them. Waste materials that emit odors, such as various organic waste and animal and human fecal matter, predetermine where such waste will be discarded. Some waste materials emit strong odors and therefore clearly demarcat- ed special areas on the peripheries of settlements were established for such waste.47 Polish researcher Pawłovska, who has studied odors at the Neolithic site of Çatalhöyük in Turkey, describes various activities that resulted in unpleasant scents, such as stabling animals, heating poorly ventilated houses,48 waste management, and slaughtering animals. Within the settlement itself waste was burnt and also deposited in dumps (middens). The dogs that Pawłovska claims were owned by every family might have helped dispose of food waste and bones.49 Stabled animals of course produced dung, which could be collected, dried, and used as heating fuel. In comparison with collecting the dung of wild animals (it has been theorized that this was done at Çatalhöyük), collecting the dung of domesticated animals50 was much simpler (Pawłovska, 2014).

47The site of Kopal, which is in the immediate vicinity of Çatalhüyük, bears witness to this idea. Animals were slaughtered here. The carcasses that were intended for butchering were then transported to Çatalhüyük. Kopal was thus reserved for a specific type of activity, which may have also had a religious aspect (Pawłovská, 2014).

48The houses in Çatalhöyük had no windows and they were entered using a ladder through the roof.

49Vomited up, chewed up, and half-eaten bones are evidence of dogs in a settlement. Canine fecal matter was likely collected and deposited in a certain area (Pawłovská, 2014).

50This heating method is still practiced today. Dried dung is a valuable material that serves as both fuel and a natural fertilizer in places such as India and Africa. Ethno-archeological studies have documented the drying of dung both outside of dwellings (Yalman, 2005 in Pawłovská, 2014) and on their rooftops (Moreno-García & Pimenta, 2011 in Pawłovská, 2014).

Abandoned homes were not used just for storing waste; they were also used as stables (Pawłovská, 2014). These structures likely had their own waste management system in place and were periodically and regularly cleaned to remove excess dung. In one of the buildings at Çatalhöyük a latrine was discovered; it was likely filled with straw to ease regular cleaning (Hodder, 2011). The disposal of unwanted material created deposits between houses, as well as in abandoned houses as mentioned above. The range of discarded objects indicates great diversity—this waste primarily includes human and animal bones, mollusk shells, eggs shells, small decorative items such as beads, obsidian, pottery, construction waste, charred plant seeds, charcoal, baskets, clay marbles, fecal matter, and sweeping debris (Hodder, 2006); the latter finding demonstrates that dwellings were cleaned and at the same time tells us something about the day- to-day life at this Neolithic tell settlement. When this waste was deposited (that is, before its organic competent, which usually is not preserved in the archaeological record, decomposed), this deposit must have consisted of a large amount of stinking organic matter (Pawłovska, 2014).

THE POSSIBILITIES OF INTERPRETATION

When interpreting archaeological finds, we must always bear in mind that artefacts may have undergone several post-deposit changes, which have the potential to fully redefine their interpretative value. Another problem is related to the “archaeology of the unfound.” Objects that can be assumed to have been present are often not found, mainly due to the material nature of such artefacts (for example, organic objects can only be preserved in specific types of environments). Thus, it is likely that the need to defecate played a role in the arrangement of settlements; however, we have very little physical prehistoric evidence to prove it. As far as depositing waste is concerned, we can find a certain parallel in Bin- ford’s book Nunamiut Ethnoarchaeology, in which he deals with hunting and

62 processing prey. How much food was transported back to the settlement and how is largely dependent upon environmental conditions and hunting strategies. The difference between transporting an entire animal or just parts of it had implications for the overall waste management system because sometimes animals were cleaned, butchered, and even stored outside of the settlement (Binford, 1978). In such situations certain types of materials never make it into settlement waste (and subsequently into archaeological material), even though such material played an important role in living culture. However, due to the nature of archaeological sources they do not tell us about living culture. However, with the help of ethno-archeology we can assume the causalities of various phenomena. Interpretation and its validity is always dependent on the context of the entire situation. A certain problem is presented by the classification of waste as a specific category in terms of technology and artefact typology; such classification is often based on the subjective approach of every researcher. For example, some researchers might identify a stone flake as waste, whereas others see it as a blade. Such reclassification has taken place in studies on the Upper Neolithic settlement of Jezeřany-Maršovice (Přichystal – Svoboda, 1997; Oliva, 2001).

CONCLUSION

The continuity of waste management areas at Neolithic settlements was strictly maintained and reflects the collective aspect of waste management of each settlement, which played an important role in the life of the settlement. We can observe fluidity between public space and private ownership from one example where a house was built on a public dump (Hodder, 2006). Deposits contain many small waste units ranging from ashes to sweeping debris and thus we can characterize dumps as a full context made up of many smaller, individual situations (Hodder, 2006).

Schiffer assumes that with increasing settlement size the distance an artefact must travel to be disposed of also grows (Schiffer, 1976). Thomas,51 however, objects to Schiffer’s behaviourism and, riding the wave of post-processualism, calls for greater emphasis on the influence of culture and individualism on how people of certain cultures deal with waste (Thomas, 2002) and the fact that these processes are not dependent on generally valid rules, but that they differ from culture to culture. Cultural rules are facultative and self-regulating and evolve based on current circumstances. In other words, we could say that cultural variability is the result of how different societies utilize the environment. To a certain extent, both of these hypotheses can be accepted as true. In the broadest terms, our relationship to waste is framed by biology. To these biological rules, however, were later added several “artificial” rules and measures that are extensions of these biological rules in their dependence on environmental and cultural affiliation. Thomas, in further opposition to Binford’s “New Arche- ology” assumes that the deposition of waste is affected more by cultural processes than natural ones (Thomas, 2002). In other words, these processes cannot be generalized to any great extent, and therefore not even ethnographic evidence can be applied as a direct parallel to prehistoric waste management. However, on the basis of such parallels we can theorize that in prehistoric times one single, homogenous category of waste did not exist. Classifications of the material world are not culturally static; instead activities and relationships within communities are influenced by constant change (Thomas, 2002). The principle of cleanliness varies from place to place and over time. Neolithic people’s attitude towards waste is much different than our contemporary view of it (Thomas, 2002). The relationship between waste and social organization is also dependent on a given society’s view of dirtiness. Thus, a short-lived settlement may have a

51Like Thomas, Hodder, too, objects to Schiffer. Based on research conducted in Baringo, Hodder discovered that material culture does not often directly reflect human behavior, but more the transformation of behavior. (Hodder & Hutson, 2003).

64 well-organized waste management system, and in contrast a long-lived settlement might have no such thing (Hodder & Hutson, 2003).

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Study III.

WASTE MANAGEMENT IN BRONZE AGE EUROPE

1 2 FILIP HAVLÍČEK , MARTIN KUČA

1Dep. of Environmental Studies, Masaryk Uni., Brno, Czech Republic, e-mail: [email protected] 2Town Museum Moravský Krumlov, Moravský Krumlov, Czech Republic, e- mail: [email protected]

Received: 3rd April 2017, Accepted: 26th April 2017

MOTTO

Civilization is a limitless multiplication of unnecessary necessities. Mark Twain

ABSTRACT

This article deals with the relationship between humans and waste in the Bronze Age. Based on selected examples of waste management strategies from the European Bronze Age, it presents an overview of different strategies. In comparison with the preceding Stone Age, a new type of material began to appear: metal. The process involved in producing metal objects, however, brought with it the appearance of a specific type of waste material that is indelibly linked to the production of metal. This article also deals with the significance of ritual-

71 ized social activities in the Bronze Age, which materialized in waste and waste management strategies. Keywords: Waste management, waste, Bronze Age, Archaeology, Anthropol- ogy, Environmental History, Europe

INTRODUCTION

The development of waste management strategies seems to be an anthropological constant that can be documented in every period of human history stretching back to the Paleolithic (Havlíček, 2015). Anthropologist G. P. Murdock also includes the creation of waste strategies on his extensive list of characteristics shared by all historic and contemporary cultures (Murdock, 1945). This phenomenon is likely, in a certain sense, a result of evolution, considering the development of our senses, which call our attention to environmental pollution. Conscious waste management and the disposal of waste likely developed as a way to prevent disease and to protect against odors, insects, and wild animals (Bilitewski, 1997). When considering the variability in waste strategies and how waste and odors are perceived, many regional and cultural differences related to the diversity of environments in which different ethnicities live and, most certainly, differences in their social rules, must be taken into account. The Bronze Age is generally considered to be the last phase in humankind’s prehistory, during which significant changes in the social environment occurred, which in Central Europe can be observed, for example, in “proto-urban” cultures, whose bearers were in contact with contemporary centers of advanced civilization in the Mediterranean area, characterized by the Minoan and Mycenaean cultures. Even though the Bronze Age is considered a turning point in time, in which “history sped up,” it is necessary to take into account that this period in human history is in a certain sense immediately connected to the technological

72 knowledge of the Paleolithic and Neolithic. Stone, the dominant material for producing artefacts was gradually replaced with metals, which certainly contributed to the significant social changes. In Central Europe we encounter the first metals in the Lengyel culture (cf. Schenk et al,. 2007; Dobeš et al., 2010). At first, their use was limited to non- utilitarian artefacts. The actual beginnings of metallurgy in this region can be traced back to the Eneolithic (Rožnovský & Šmíd, 2013; Dobeš, 2013). Discov- eries of crucibles and casting vessels are evidence (Točík & Bublová, 1985; Gumiński, 1989; Obereder et al., 1993). Generally, artefacts significantly contribute to forming social relationships and through them the social identity of individuals is created. But metal itself could create a certain type of tension in society, which was reflected in social stratification. The fact that the production of bronze artefacts is characterized by a specialized technological procedure may have played a role. In comparison with stone, the percentage of the population able to create a bronze artefact with their own hands decreased drastically. The technology used to process metals also resulted in new economic relationships, which were then reflected in the power structures of this period (Sherratt, 1997). Production specialization has since advanced to the point where today most inhabitants of technologically developed countries can no longer make most of the items they need for daily life. Thanks to its composition, bronze compensates for copper’s softness. The use of metals enabled a greater variety of artefacts to be made and, considering the material qualities of metals, it also facilitated better recycling (especially when compared to chipped stone industries). During the short, but dynamic Bronze Age in Europe, the seeds were sown for the following Iron Age. In Europe, we can observe ethnogenetic process that “led to the final breakup of the Indo- European language unit and the emergence of historical ethnicities” (Podborský,

1997; 118). Also in the Bronze Age, as opposed to in the preceding period, social stratification became clearer (Kristiansen & Larsson, 2005).

MINING WASTE Mining activities create waste materials, whether it is waste from mining itself or whether it is waste from the subsequent processing of the mined material. We attempted to summarize examples of mining and subsequent waste treatment in the preceding lower Stone Age in an article on waste in the Neolithic and Chal- colithic (Havlíček & Kuča, 2017). Even though we have records of relatively sophisticated vertical mine works already from the Neolithic (e.g., Krzemionki in Poland [Bąbel 2008]) and underground mining is not connected with innovations until the so-called upper prehistoric period, it is worth mentioning here the Krumlovský les site, a very remarkable mining site. However, if we were to just characterize the activities that were undertaken here as mining, we would be simplifying matters to a great degree. Here at what was likely one of the biggest mining sites in prehistoric Europe (and probably a religious and socio-symbolic center as well) (Oliva, 2010), chert was mined from the Paleolithic until the early Iron Age. There is a paradox, for it seems that the massive amount of chert that was mined here was, from a certain point in time (the end of the Chalcolithic), left here and was some kind of symbolic material. For the purposes of this article, we will be interested in the Bronze Age at this site. The concentration of waste from chipped stone industries was so enormous that researchers in the 1930s considered it to consist of mere pseudo-artefacts (Oliva, 2010). The extreme amount of artefacts produced here reflected their value in the social and symbolic realms. It seems that the more difficult it was to mine a certain material the greater its value was. As Martin Olivia, the leader of a long-term archeological excavation project, writes: “Today it is clear that not even mining in other exploitation sites had this practical sense and was focused

74 on producing items of social significance, whose “charisma” or “mana” clearly increased the harder the material was to access and with the amount of work it took. What was important was the energy consumed by traveling to the source, the organization of mass communal activities, the production of the artefact itself (like all other artefacts left at the site), removing the products, exchanging them, etc.” (Oliva, 2010; 334). In the Bronze Age we can also witness a peculiar phenomenon. An extremely large amount of stone was mined, chipped, and left in one place. In close proximity to mine shafts near work spaces thick layers of waste from producing chipped stone tools were found. This large mass of waste is localized on sum- mits, on promontories, and in the eastern part of the forest (Oliva, 2010). Oliva also states that most of the production waste is located near places that are suitable for sitting, such as boulders. Even though waste from stone tool production is concentrated in certain spots, the site does not give off the impression that an organized waste management strategy was implemented here. It is, however, worth mentioning the fact that part of these mine works were at one point in time filled in and thus conserved (interview with Martin Oliva). This model brings to mind what is most likely the oldest prehistoric temple building in the world at Göbekli Tepe in today’s Turkey. Here, after much effort was put into building this enormous structure, the entire building was covered in clay and waste (Peters & Schmidt, 2004). This fact could stimulate us to view the entire site as a place with greater social significance than economic, although on first glimpse one would expect a mining site to be of greater economic importance. Considering the sheer amount of waste material here, it had to play some kind of role. We do not know, however, which role. Whether these findings are the result of a primary waste strategy (when waste stays in the place of its creation) or of a secondary waste strategy (when waste is brought to a certain place to be disposed) in the sense of Neustupný’s theory of waste sites (2007) cannot be unambiguously determined. Thus, unfortunately we

75 cannot even answer the question whether waste as the residue of some kind of symbolic act of stone chipping stayed in a special place intended for this act, or whether it was moved and deposited in another place. On the other hand mine shafts were often filled with mined stones (Oliva, 2010). But again to speak here about any kind of waste strategy is very complicated. Considering the fact that bronze gradually pushed stone aside, mining is seemingly weighed down with nostalgia for chipped stone tools, with which practically all preceding generations worked and were in daily contact with. Stone itself may have had an uncapturable symbolism, which once it came into contact with this new era of metal artefacts generated this material expression. The activities in the Krumlovský les Forest connected with mining and chipping stone are difficult to interpret, especially from a cultural or social perspective. In the light of this fact, it would be perhaps better to interpret this site, at least its use in the Bronze Age, more as a cultural, social, or religious center rather than a mere mining site. Oliva’s (2010) explanation that the social stability of a certain ideology was maintained through organized free time activities seems to be on point. We can observe analogous situations in today’s world, for example, the construction of megalomaniac buildings and senseless projects, such as unused four-lane highways in North Korea or perhaps even Czechoslo- vakia’s Spartakiad events in the twentieth century (Oliva, 2010). We assume that this explanation comes closest to what actually transpired in the Krumlovský les Forest in Bronze Age South Moravia.

METAL PROCESSING During metal processing waste is produced in the form of slag, the non-metal material left over after smelting ore. This material is made up of the impurities contained in ore that are separated and removed from the pure metal. Metallur- gical slag is usually evidence of a certain type of metal-working activity. Metal-

76 lurgical slag demonstrates great strength, thanks to which it is easily conserved and preserved. In archaeological terminology, slag is categorized as an ecofact, which is an item produced by human activity, but not intentionally made; thus, unlike artefacts, ecofacts are the by-products of human activities. Deposited slag is often found in great quantities. The amount of unearthed ecofacts depends on many factors, including accessibility of metal ores. The intensity of metal production can be manifested in large multilayer waste mounds made of slag (Ben-Yosef et al., 2008). This material was likely classified as permanent waste material considering that it could only be recycled for very marginal uses. Rather, only slag that was created during technologically less advanced metal-making processes could be reused. One possible use of slag was to grind it up and use it to color glass or beads. Bronze items are practically never found amongst common waste materials, not even in the form of scrap, due to this material’s rarity. This material could be reworked. What however is found are the deposits of bronze scrap collected in one place that were intended to be resmelted and reused to make artefacts. Recycling could have had a ritual character in certain places in the Bronze Age. This is likely documented at the Cyprus Minoan culture site of Kition. Based on the amount of discovered scrap metal in temples, the authors of the study theorize about a connection between ritual smelting and the recycling of metal (Karageorghis & Kassianidou, 1999). They also theorize about the recycling of bones, which were added as fuel for processes that required making high temperatures, such as smelting and casting copper alloys (Karageorghis & Kassianidou, 1999). Piles of bone dust were discovered at the Kition site in a complex of five temples; they were most likely the bones of sacrificed animals. In this manner, local inhabitants could get rid of animal bones and at the same time they did not have to search for fuel (Kara- georghis & Kassianidou, 1999). The presence of phosphorous and calcium indi-

77 cate the high fusibility of the metal, and thus smoother, homogenous metal surfaces could be created (Karageorghis & Kassianidou, 1999). Toxic compounds in the form of heavy metals are produced in metallurgical processes and thus such activities had the potential to pollute soil at sites where they were performed. Such consequences were one of the first environmental problems in history. Heavy metals contained in the soil found their way into food, and from there into the human body. Health problems such as infertility occurred and many people died prematurely due to high concentrations of lead and copper (Grattan et al, 2016). Even though Grattan et al. focus on the earlier Neolithic period, it is likely that in the Bronze Age the concentrations of heavy metals were similar, if not higher.

FROM CRETE TO THE ORKNEYS Ancient Aegean cultures coincided with the Bronze Age and thus they should be mentioned at least briefly. One type of activity related to sanitation, waste production, and waste management is the acquisition of good sources of water for various activities connected to daily life. Angelakis and Zheng attribute the advanced development of the water supply system of Aegean cultures to their close contact with Egyptian civilization, which they drew inspiration from (An- gelakis & Zheng, 2015). Minoan culture was certainly one of the first cultures in Europe to use, at least to some extent, a system of underground clay pipes (An- gelakis et al, 2014). For example, at the Cretan palace of Knossos the water-pipe system could accommodate the inflow of clean water. A sewage system drained wastewater and excrement away from this structure. The chambers of the rulers were built with baths that were connected to the drainage system under the palace (Melosi, 1981). A clever system for cleaning the sewage system was implemented: the pipes were flushed with rainwater collected on the palace’s roofs (Angelakis et al., 2014). For example, at the Palace of Faistos there were cis- terns of water that was cleaned by having it flow through ceramic filters contain-

78 ing sand (Angelakis et al., 2014). Despite the advanced development of Aegean cultures, it cannot be assumed that all members of society were blessed with this convenience of civilization; it is likely that only wealthy elites could afford such luxury. From the perspective of waste policy, Minoan civilization established waste dumps, which were periodically covered with a layer of soil, and thus large waste pits were created (Wilson, 1977 in Pichtel, 2005). We can observe another form of water management implemented with the in- tention of improving sanitary conditions on the Orkney Islands in the Bronze Age, which are more than 2,500 km away from the island of Crete. Even though the Orkney Islands are mainly famous for Neolithic sites, such as Skara Brae, a large amount of unique Bronze Age data has been preserved here thanks to the stone-based building technologies used. One remarkable example is a preserved specialized Bronze Age structure from the Links of Noltland site that seems to have been something like a bath or a sauna. The technical infrastructure of the facilities has been studied; it included a cistern, where water was probably heated and steam produced. It is assumed that activities for purifying the body took place here; perhaps women may have given birth here and sick or old people might have spent time here as well (Barfield et al., 1987). Water was heated and stream produced most likely by throwing stones heated in fire into the central water cistern (Barfield et al., 1987).

WASTE IN SETTLEMENTS Martin Kuna and Andrea Němcová have dedicated an extensive book to studying the structures that were created as a consequence of different means of handling settlement waste (Kuna & Němcová, 2012). In it, they examine archaeological material from a Bronze Age site in Roztoky u Prahy; it is necessary to mention that it is a relatively unique site in the Czech lands.

Aboveground parts of dwellings that could help explain the relationship to uncovered buried objects have not been preserved. This poses a problem common in archeology. As Kuna and Němcová assume (in keeping with Schiffer’s behavioural archeology52), on the basis of the arrangement of artefacts in waste, the original arrangement of the settlement can be determined (Kuna & Němco- vá, 2012). The authors noticed a regularity in the composition of the findings, which they refer to as structured depositions (Kuna & Němcová, 2012). The question, however, is to what extent is the preservation of an item based on its original function or material or plans for its further use affected by symbolic behavior and to what extent by purely functional (pragmatic) behavior. Based on the research conducted in Roztoky the authors assume certain symbolic or functional behaviour for “… functional types of ceramics, animal bones based on type of animal and bones based on use in food preparation (meaty parts of the body vs. harder to use waste), the amount and type of daub, or other artefacts” (Kuna & Němcová, 2012; 226). However, when the authors subjected the above-described material to a more detailed analysis, they came to the conclusion that for none of these types of findings could they clearly identify a structure that maintained functional differences in waste in individual parts of the settlement (Kuna & Němcová, 2012). However, they do make a fundamental conclusion: “recessed structures were not filled in through random processes and material from the immediate vicinity, but [they were filled] systematically, at once, and with material from waste areas, where waste was concentrated from various activities in the settlement” (Ku- na & Němcová, 2012; 226). This conclusion de facto assumes organized waste management at the Bronze Age settlement in Roztoky u Prahy. Laura Dietrich has made remarkable findings in her spatial analysis of fragments of ceramic vessels from the Romanian Bronze Age site of Rotbov. Die- trich identifies two groups of waste: the “remnants of everyday life” and struc-

52For more details, see Behavioral Archeology (Schiffer, 1976). 80 tured deposits (whose creation is affected by economic, ritual, and symbolic factors) and considers it fundamental to differentiate based on a spatial analysis of the individual parts of sites (dwellings, production spaces, etc.) (Dietrich, 2016). Here she refers to the work of Ulrike Sommer, who differentiates between an active zone, a passive zone, and a waste storage zone (or the arrangement of waste based on price, size, cleanliness, or dangerousness) (Sommer, 1990). Rec- ognizing such differentiations in the field, however, is often complicated by the incomplete preservation of the sources, missing data, and state of research (Die- trich, 2016). L. Dietrich in Rotbov has discovered two differing models of waste management in two adjacent time periods. She points out the strict rules for handling waste in the middle of the Bronze Age, which included the regular cleaning of public spaces. Based on the statistical assessment of shard fragments, it was proven that large shards from these places were likely deposited in waste pits next to houses (Dietrich, 2016). However, some large fragments were found in homes and were certainly meant to be reused (Dietrich, 2016). In the late Bronze Age, ceramic waste begins to appear in public spaces (Die- trich, 2016), which demonstrates a likely change in the social agreement on waste management at this specific site. Pits, which previously were used at least partially for waste, changed in shape, were found farther from homes, and there is no proof that they were used to store waste. At the edge of the dwelling areas, however, in this period appear “ashmounds” (essentially the same as middens), which contain waste from this period, including bronze fragments. Dietrich considers them to be structured deposits, which supposedly originated with the deposition of materials created as the result of a specific activity—the author theorizes about possible feasts and refers to these findings as “holy garbage dumps” (Dietrich, 2016). Middens are another type of deposition-based waste strategy, one based on substantially greater functional homogeneity of waste material. These sites are

81 defined as areas consisting mainly of disposed domestic rubbish and in some cases a certain symbolic function has been attributed to them, one beyond just a simple waste disposal site (see Needham & Spence, 1997). The variability of waste in middens is relatively broad. They contain mostly animal bones, shells, general kitchen waste, human and animal excrement, plant residue, shards, and stone chippings. It is, of course, possible to find other types of artefacts and ecofacts. There are three possible theories for how the East Chisenbury midden in Britain was created. The first possibility is that it is an accumulation of waste from dwellings. The second is that it is the result of occa- sional, but massive, disposal of a large amount of meat, ceramic used for prepar- ing and serving food, and bedding for animals and humans alike (McOmish, 1996). The third possibility is that the midden contains waste produced elsewhere that was then taken to this site (McOmish et al., 2010), a theory that fits Neustupný’s definition of “tertiary waste” (2007). It is also of course possible that the midden is the result of a combination of all or some of these theories. Tubb, for example, states that this waste could have hypothetically been created as the product of lively celebrations of some sort and the midden is thus a material reminder of such events (Tubb, 2011). Thus, the midden could essentially reflect the community’s wealth. By demonstrating the size of the midden itself the symbolic wealth of the community that made it would grow. The fact that middens are usually located in elevated areas would support this explanation (Tubb, 2011). If this is the case, then dis- posing waste would have been a socially important activity. According to Tubb, the creation of middens reflected a certain type of social competitiveness and he rejects the view of East Chisenbury as a mere waste disposal site (Tubb, 2011). The case of the East Chisenbury midden exposes one simple fact—that it is difficult to define and categorize historic waste. Considering the fact that we do not know the social environment in which these waste dumps were created, their importance for the society that created them can hardly be determined. Thus, it

82 is worth a reminder that when we interpret historic waste, we often project our own subjective view on this issue, which distorts the objective reality. However, it is necessary to mention one more important phenomenon—human remains found in Bronze Age settlement pits. From a purely technically stand- point, they may have been waste, but it is difficult to distinguish minor nuances in symbolic or ritual behavior, when only material sources are available. Con- sidering the complex nature of non-ritual burial of human remains in the Bronze Age, which likely may have included some elements of cannibalism, punishment, or general ritual or religious behavior, we shall not analyze this question here. Many articles and books could be written about this topic.

CONCLUSION

Even though we have described several cases of Bronze Age waste management, it is still complicated to provide a summary or categorization of waste be- haviors throughout the entire period. It is necessary to note that waste is always part of the metabolism of human culture and thus it is inseparable from human society. Every period brings technological changes, which are then reflected in the composition or amount of waste. The Bronze Age was the end of the prehistoric period; the following Iron Age is traditionally considered a period of protohisto- ry. The spread of metalworking technology definitely made a significant contri- bution to waste issues due to the difficulties of mining and processing this material. In the historical context, and from a purely material perspective, waste associated with metallurgy was likely the only change in comparison with the previous Paleolithic and Neolithic periods.

REFERENCES

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Study IV.

WASTE AND POLLUTION IN THE ANCIENT ROMAN EMPIRE53

1 2 FILIP HAVLÍČEK , MIROSLAV MORCINEK

1Department of Environmental Studies, Masaryk University, Brno, Czech Re- public 2Department of Classical Studies, Masaryk University, Brno, Czech Republic

MOTTO

The sea is like history—when viewed in perspective it looks monumental, but when you are in the middle of it, it will make you sick to your stomach. Gabriel Laub

History doesn't repeat itself, but it does rhyme. Mark Twain

Received: 29th August 2016, Accepted: 12th September 2016

ABSTRACT

This article describes select examples of waste management from the Roman Empire (27 BCE to 365 CE). Classical written sources and anthropological and archeological literature were studied. The central theme of this paper is ancient man’s relationship with waste and his responses to pollution.

53This publication was written at Masaryk University as part of the project Current approaches to the study of environmental phenomena, MUNI/A/1299/2014 (from ISEP) with the support of the Specific University Research Grant, as provided by the Ministry of Education, Youth and Sports of the Czech Republic in the year 2015.

Key words: Roman Empire, waste, pollution, sewerage, city, written sources, archeology, anthropology

INTRODUCTION

Waste management is a topic frequently bandied about in today’s world. How- ever, interest in environmental problems is not just a modern phenomenon; people were concerned with similar issues in the past, including the preindustrial era. The Roman Empire, even though people today find it ever more distant form our times, still attracts great attention. Its attractiveness can be attributed to the fact that it is still viewed as one of the pillars of Western civilization. The Roman Empire is frequently compared with our modern world and parallels between the two are being highlighted.54 The ancient Romans are normally portrayed as bearers of advanced science and technology. These reflections include the notion that there was a high level of public hygiene, represented by Roman aqueducts (Fig. 4), baths, sewage systems, and toilets. But due to the mere existence of these things, can we automatically come to such conclusions? How did inhabitants of the Roman Empire deal with waste? Cleary, in the Roman era waste was not created in the quantities it is today. The population was much smaller than today. Most households could only afford humble furnishings; many objects were used as long as possible. The mega- production of packaging that we know so well did not exist; non-biodegradable materials were an unknown phenomenon (Weeber, 2006). In comparison with earlier civilizations, it can be expected that Rome, with its increasing urbaniza- tion, also produced higher amount of waste. This idea is generally valid for ancient urban civilizations as opposed to cultures at a lower stage of technological development. Considering supposed advancement of the Roman Empire, it

54It is worth mentioning that the Roman Empire had a larger land area in some decades than the European Union has today. 89 could be assumed that at least leading authorities would be able to deal with waste better than their Greek and Mesopotamian predecessors.55 The research question we would like to address in this study is, how was waste, including waste water, managed in the Classical era, and how did this management manifest itself in practice in the overall relationship between the people living in the Classical era and the environment? This topic is directly connected to general perceptions of cleanliness and hygiene that are reflected in the practices and rituals of a given group or culture. In this article we will cover waste management, concepts of cleanliness, and the relationship with water, using various examples from the Roman imperial period. This article is more descriptive in nature because to begin ab ovo would entail a scope beyond the capacity of this article. Therefore, we will not describe in great detail hypotheses on how concepts of cleanliness and hygienic rules arose (I attempted to do so in Havlíček, 2015), but we will describe examples of how this fact played out in reality. Nonetheless, we cannot avoid a brief excur- sion into the causalities of evolutionary biology. Undoubtedly much more work will need to be done until we are able to understand this phenomenon in its full complexity. We will focus on the urban environment (including that of Rome itself), that is, the main producer of waste. We shall leave aside military camps, the countryside, and mining operations. At the center of our interest is the pollution caused by waste, the fight against it, and new problems arising as a result. Since there is a great geographical difference between territorial holdings of the Empire and a nature of the cities we do not want to generalize56. We illustrate the phenomena using unique examples of waste management that are recorded in archeological

55From the perspective of materials and technology, the Classical era was a de facto continuation of the Iron Age with its high energy demands associated with producing this material. As unbelievable as it may sound, the enormous slagheaps near the cities of Vetulonia and Populonia were used by the Italian arms industry during World War I material shortages (Jelínek et Kysučan, 2014).

56 Roman cities variate from towns along the river systems and in close connection to the Mediterreanean and Black sea to towns in the interior and further north. 90 as well as written sources that we have accessed through the latest secondary literature. In 1945 American anthropologist George P. Murdock presented a long list of characteristics that can be observed in all cultures known from history and anthropology (Murdock, 1945). One of these universals is cleanliness, a concept that is tightly linked to waste management. On the basis of this hypothesis, we will consider waste management (a clear consequence of the human tendency for cleanliness) to be an anthropological (or biological) constant, from which many local (cultural) variants have arisen, which have, over time, branched out into many different practices, rituals, measures, and rules. All members of the Hominidea family are sensitive to contact with dirt, slime, and stickiness (Smith, 2007). Labelling this attitude an anthropological constant demonstrates the fact that this phenomenon, just like the manufacture of tools (we could speak here about the extended phenotype that occurs in Homo sapiens; Dawkins, 1999), and a certain need for religion, is shared by all cultures, both historical and contemporary. According to Norbert Elias acquiring hygienic habits is one of the initial stages of human civilization and in the gradual bio-psychological formation of human habits and morals (Elias, 2000 in Smith, 2007). Let us examine to what extent ancient Romans followed these patterns. In the broadest perspective, it is necessary to view concern for cleanliness and the related phenomenon of waste management as an evolutionarily beneficial model of human nature. Aversion to dirtiness or bad odors triggers our evolutionarily developed receptors that promptly react and relay any necessary information to the brain, which subsequently assesses the next course of action. It is our insular cortex that informs us about smells; when this part of the brain functions improperly, it results in obsessive compulsive disorder (William, 1997). On the other hand, neglecting personal hygiene is often a sign of clinical depression (Smith, 2007). It should be noted that humans’ relationship with cleanliness and disorder are to a large extent culturally determined (Douglas, 1966).

THE CITY—A LAYERED ORGANISM LIVING FROM THE PRESENCE OF PEOPLE

Water, an irreplaceable commodity in every human settlement, was transported to cities such as Rome57 by aqueducts from sources that could be many dozens of kilometers away.58 Here, water was delivered through pipes that were often made of lead; for distributing water in the cities smaller-gauged ceramic, wooden, and leather pipes were used (Adkins et Adkins, 2004). According to estimates, Rome was supplied with approximately half a million to one million cu- bic meters of water per day (Evans, 1997). The aqueduct system worked on the very simple principle of gravitational force. If a valley or lowlands stood in the path of the aqueduct, such an obstacle could be overcome by bridgework that did not disrupt the water’s naturally downward flow and which maintained the proper water pressure; water was ideally transported to the highest point in a city (in some cases a system of high-pressure pipes was used to siphon water across such areas). Along the way, water was purified in settlement ponds, from where it then flowed into a main reservoir and was further distributed throughout the city (Adkins et Adkins, 2004). Aqueducts were, of course, directly linked to the issue of sewerage, considering the fact that water transported via an aqueduct could not be stopped but only diverted elsewhere. Despite the advanced nature of the sewer system and waterworks of ancient Rome, we cannot assume that all citizens had a right to this privilege. Whether a person was connected to the water or sewage system reflected their social status. As Smith writes: “You were nothing in Rome without your expensively plumbed latrines, courtyard fountain, pool, or private baths…” (Smith, 2007; 105). Many ancient cities also had drainage systems that drained wastewater from bathrooms and kitchens. Solid waste was stored in cesspits or was used as ferti-

57Instead of hard-to-build aqueducts, in urban environments such as in Londiun (today’s London) wells were often used as sources of drinking water (Blair et al., 2006). Building these waterworks was necessary due to the city baths’ enormous water demands. Although waterworks brought a significant amount of water to Rome, it cannot be assumed that everyone had access to it. Poor neighborhoods, even in the “age of the aqueduct,” were dependent upon water from rivers, springs, wells, and rainwater reservoirs (Smith, 2007). However, it is necessary to add that even poor Romans living in apartment buildings that lacked infrastructure or even those living on the street could draw water for free from public fountains, visit baths, etc. No segregation existed here. 58Connecting to the water system was no exception—the price of water was based on water pipe radius. The calix, Latin for bowl or cup, was used as the unit of measure (Adkins et Adkins, 2004).

92 lizer. It was not compulsory to be connected to this drainage system; being connected to the public sewage system was a paid service. For buildings that were not connected, a private service existed in which someone came to the building each day to collect clay waste vessels, the contents of which were sold to farmers outside of the city. Conditions, however, varied throughout the empire. For example, in Pompeii, buckets containing waste and fecal matter were thrown out of windows onto the street, where it collected and rotted. In places that were not connected to a waste system, there was little care about waste management. Stepping stones for pedestrians document this fact. Such contamination supported the spread of epidemics. According to Hughes, the Tiber River in Rome was highly polluted; waste material was often disposed of in its waters (Hughes, 2001). During the reigns of Augustus and Aurelian the Tiber was cleaned and its channel widened. Augustus even established a body for inspecting the river channel and banks; during Trajan’s reign its competences grew to include managing the sewage system (Hughes, 2001). The Roman Empire was most likely the first civilization in Europe to have on organized urban waste management labor force, already in the fourth century BC (Vesilind et al., 2002). Work was carried out by a cleaning crew, who loaded piles of waste onto horse-drawn wagons using shovels. Waste was taken either outside city gates or somewhere else far from civilization (Pichtel, 2005). City authorities could impose fines for the improper disposal of waste. A board informed citizens not to leave waste in the street and indicated where they should go to dispose of it (Kelly, 1973). In another step serving to keep the city clean overall, Emperor Vespasian (AD 69–79) ordered the installation of public flush toilets (Kelly, 1973). By AD 300, the number of such facilities in Rome increased to 144 (Bilitewski et al., 1997).

THE ROMAN CITY—ONE BIG LANDFILL?

In Rome and other cities in the empire, the approach to waste management was quite lax. The growing population, among other things, contributed to this situation. For example, Rome itself at the end of the Republic had one million inhabitants.59 Waste of probably all kinds was thrown out of windows and onto the street, particularly at night (Weeber, 2006). The satirist Juvenalis warns his readers about this phenomenon: …it’s a long way up to the rooftops, and a falling tile can brain you. Think of all those cracked or leaky vessels tossed out of windows—the way they smash, their weight, the damage they do to the sidewalk! You’ll be thought most improvident, a catastrophe-happy fool, if you don’t make your will before venturing out to dinner. Each open upper casement along your route at night may prove a death-trap: so pray and hope (poor you!) that the local housewives drop nothing worse on your head than a pailful of slops. (Juvenalis, Saturae 3.269-277, transl. by P. Green). People let some rubbish lie around on the floors in their home (Thüry, 2001). City streets most likely looked similar, no matter how garbage found its way there.60 The poet Martialis provides a description in one epigram: If I did not wish and deserve to see you at home this morning, Paulus, may your Esquiline abode be further from me than it is. But I am close neighbor to the Tiburtine column, where rustic Flora gazes at ancient Jove. I must surmount the uphill path from Subura with its dirty stones and steps never dry, and I am scarcely able to break through the long trains of mules and the marble blocks you see hauled by many a rope. What is worse still, Paulus, worn out after a thousand labors, I am told by your janitor that you are not at home. Such is the

59Likely data—taken from Thommen 2012: 124. 60Another source—e.g., Petronius (bleeding feet, shards)--reference in Thüry, p. 24.

94 outcome of my vain effort and my poor soaked gown: it would hardly have been worth it to see Paulus of a morning. Shall the faithful client ever be cultivating unconscionable friends? Unless you stay abed, you can be no patron of mine. (Martialis, Epigrammata 5.22, transl. by D. R. Shackleton Bailey) Waste pits were located nearby buildings (Weeber, 2006; Thommen, 2012: 128); waste was also thrown into sewers and wells (Thommen, 2012: 106). Hu- man waste was often also discharged into the street (Thüry, 2001:17–21, 25–26).

61 OFFICIAL AND TECHNICAL MEASURES

These bad habits were tackled through bans and orders, as well as by applying concrete technical measures. Concerning throwing rubbish from windows, the main thing was to prevent pedestrians from being injured. The perpetrator or the building owner could be hit with a fine62 (Thüry, 2001: 17; Thommen, 2012: 127-128). Littering was also punishable. Town leaders in Herculaneum put great efforts into maintaining cleanliness on the streets, which were reflected, for example, in a prohibition from throwing rubbish on the ground near public drinking fountains. On an information board located directly near the fountain, town representatives established sanctions for this violation—citizens had to pay a fine and slaves were to be whipped (Thüry, 2001: 15). Private building owners were required to keep the section of street in front of their buildings clean. If they did not do so, they had to pay for it to be cleaned at their own expense63 (Weeber, 2006; Thommen, 2012: 127). Aediles and a four-member committee known as quattuor viri viis purgandis were in charge of ensuring clean streets (Weeber, 2006; Thüry, 2001: 13-15).64

61For information about measures in general: Weeber 2006, Thüry 2001.

62Dig. 9.3.

63Dig. 43.10, CIL I 593, lines 24ff.

64Emperor Caligula supposedly once expressed indignation with Vespasian—the future emperor then only a mere aedile—for not carrying out his duties64 (Thüry, 2001: 13-14).

Solid waste was most likely taken outside of the town.65 Although during day- time hours transportation was restricted in the cities, records of exceptions for waste wagons exist (plostra ... stercoris exportandei causa)66 (Thüry, 2001: 5- 7).67 There is, however, no record of a public, organized waste removal service. Waste removal was more an individual effort (Thüry, 2001: 5-9).68 In any case, such work was likely done by people of lower social status, mostly slaves.69 In is not known exactly where this waste was actually taken. Outside of towns, just like in the countryside or nearby military camps,70 dumps and waste pits71 were established (Weeber, 2006; Thommen, 2012: 128). A special, well-known example is Monte Testaccio72 (Figs. 5, 6, 7, 8, 9). A mere two kilometers from the now-silenced heart of the Roman Empire, the Roman Forum, lies a noticeable mound. This artificial hill, the largest preserved waste heap from Classical times, is the result of a specific waste management practice. The entire mound consists almost entirely of broken amphorae imported to Rome73 as olive oil containers (testae—from the Latin for fragments of bricks, vessels, etc.) (Peña, 2007). Most likely these vessels could not be reused or recycled in any meaningful, economic fashion. It simply was not worth transporting the extremely large (70 l, Dressel 20 type), dirty amphorae back to where they came from. Thus, they were smashed and deposited at this dump (Claridge et al., 1998). 74 This dump was in operation approximately from the

65 For information regarding technical measures, see Weeber, 2006; Thüry, 2001; Thommen, 2012.

66CIL I 593, lines 66ff (CIL = Corpus inscriptionum Latinarum).

67Die Tabula Heracleensis (lex Iulia municipialis?) (vgl. auch Tac. ann. 11,32,3).

68Compare with conditions in Greece: Athens featured koprológoi, whose job it was to bring waste ten stadia from towns, (Weeber, 2006).

69Close physical contact with the bodily waste of other people is generally considered to be revolting in all cultures. Work which involves coming into contact with this material is as a rule carried out by people from lower social classes (cleaners, garbagemen, and sewer cleaners) (McLaughlin, 1973). If you google the term “the worst job in the world,” a significant amount of the hits involve cleaning sewers, observing or measuring bodily waste and odors, or jobs at landfills.

70The dump discovered by the Vindonissa camp in today’s Switzerland is well known.

71Even the odd dead gladiator, slayed in the arena, was thrown here.

72For a brief description of Monte Testaccio, see Weeber, 2006; see Thüry, 2001: 36–39 for a more detailed description.

73The amphorae were mainly from Hispania and North Africa.

74There was certainly a general disinterest in recycling. During the entire existence of the dump, it was forbidden to take anything from it; the justification for this ban was that the Romans were so well off economically that they had no need to reuse waste (Thüry, 2001: 37). 96 first century BCE to the third century CE.75 The entire area of the heap, 20,000 m² (approximately 600,000 m³) consists of millions of amphorae (estimates vary from 30 to 50 million).76 In any case, however, it was not a chaotic dump of unusable material. It was based on a well-thought-out system. The material was deposited in terraces, to prevent landslides. In order to prevent the porous, oil- soaked amphorae from going rancid, sections of the heap were dusted with limestone (Claridge et al., 1998). It is remarkable to note that the entire heap played a social role in the story of Rome, even after it was no longer used for its primary function. Celebrations and ceremonies were held here. For Christians, this artificial hill served as Golgotha on Good Friday (Korn, 2002). In 1849, in fighting against the French army, cannons were placed here to protect the city (Trevelyan, 1907).77 In general, storing waste outside of the city only shifted the problem elsewhere. Odours from dumps must have been detectable at the city’s edge. Mean- while, dumps themselves could contaminate the groundwater (Thüry, 2001: 45- 46).

SEWERAGE Another way to remove waste from the immediate vicinity of residential spaces were municipal sewer systems.78 These systems comprised up to four orders of sewers. First-order sewers drained wastewater from buildings. Far from all buildings, however, had the opportunity to take advantage of this system.79 Wa- ter and sewerage were paid services and being connected to these systems de facto reflected the social status of residents. For example, the apartment build-

75Considering the fact that the oldest parts of this mound are in the most poorly accessible places (i.e., at the base of the entire dump), any dating of its establishment is only approximate.

76Weeber 2006: der Hügel von 35 m Höhe und 850 m Umfang.

77This manner of storing waste is still used today in many landfills. For example, today waste is deposited in terraces at one of the largest landfills in the world, the Puente Hills Landfill in California.

78To a lesser extent, sewer systems and pipes (for inflow of clean water and the drainage of dirty water) can be found in Babylonian palaces. Here, wastewater ended up in dung heaps. The Minoan palace at Knossos is often mentioned in connection with waste management because it had an independent wastewater drainage system (Pichtel, 2005).

79For a general overview of sewers and waste, see Glaser, 2006; Thüry, 2001: 10-11; Weeber, 2006.

97 ings, known as insulae, lacked any such infrastructure. Liquid as well as solid waste was removed in vessels and taken to settlement pits, the closest public latrines, or poured into the sewer (Weeber, 2006; Thommen, 2012: 127). Second- order sewers were made up of underground tubes and open sewers. Rainwater and water flowing permanently from aqueducts flushed waste through troughs (Weeber, 2006).

In Pompeii, however, most household drainage systems drained directly to the street, which itself functioned partially like a sewer. Stepping stones were in- stalled so that people could cross the street without getting their feet wet (Hughes, 2001: 170; Thüry, 2001: 10). Street sewers were connected either to a local stream, a swampy area, or to the sea. Larger towns and cities also had third- and fourth-order sewers—major sewers and collector sewers.80 A famous example of a sewer system in the ancient world is the Roman Cloaca Maxima (Fig. 3, Latin for Greatest Sewer), parts of which still function today. Construction began around 600 BC during the reign of Etruscan king Tarquinius Priscus for the purpose of draining swampy lowland areas in the city (to the Ti- ber River), especially in the area around the Roman Forum, where later one of the most important places in Rome could develop (Thüry, 2001: 10). Etruscan combat engineers were used as the labour force. Over the course of the following centuries, the system was expanded and connected to street sewers. The originally open sewer system was transformed into enclosed channels, with some tunnels reaching up to about 3 m in width and 4 m in height (Thüry, 2001: 10; Hopkins, 2007: 1-2). It was therefore possible to conduct inspections in boats. The sewers needed to be checked and cleaned to prevent blockages. Better runoff was achieved on the one hand by flowing water from aqueducts

80The four categories of the Roman sewerage system according to Brill’s New Pauly: Encyclopaedia of the Ancient World: 1st order – initial channels – from various individual building 2nd order – street sewers 3rd order – major sewers 4th order – collector sewer

98 and on the other by construction design elements—for example, smaller sewers flowed into larger ones (Glaser, 2006). It was, however, a struggle that was more or less fought in vain. People overburdened the sewer system with solid waste; latrines and drainage pipes in homes (if there were any) were located near the kitchen, one of the greatest sources of waste. Even the bodies of victims of political murders during times of unrest were allegedly thrown into sewers (Thüry, 2001: 10-13; Thommen, 2012: 106). Another problem the Cloaca Max- ima faced was because it flowed into the Tiber, when water levels were high during flooding waste was washed into the streets (Weeber, 2006). It should be mentioned that the Cloaca Maxima, despite its high state of technological development, by far did not have the capacity to drain the entire city, and many cities in the empire had no sewer system whatsoever (Thüry, 2001: 10-11).

LATRINES81 Roman towns also featured municipal latrines (Fig. 1, Fig. 2) 2).82 They were likely established in the late Republic, and Rome reportedly had 144 of them in later antiquity. (Thüry, 2001: 12; Thommen, 2012: 124). There was an ingenious system for flushing these pit toilets using running water from the baths (Adkins et Adkins, 2004). Clean water constantly ran through the trough at the feet of ancient visitors for soaking sponges that served as toilet paper. Public latrines did not only serve as sanitation facilities, but they were also a place of social meetings and conversation. Those using the latrines were not separated by stalls as they are today, and the interior was richly decorated with marble and mosaics (Hughes, 1996; Adkins et Adkins, 2004). A pit was located under the stone latrines. The seats were either wooden or stone, and seating was open—that is, no stalls separated people (Adkins et Adkins, 2004). There was an ingenious system for flushing the latrines using wastewater from the baths (Adkins et Adkins,

81For general discussions of latrines, see Höcker, 2006 and Neudecker, 1994.

82More than 80 latrines were discovered in Herculaneum.

2004). They were clearly designed not just for their primary function as toilets but also as a place for conversation (Hughes, 1996)83. Most inhabitants however used chamber pots or jugs that were taken along with waste outside of the house,84 or continued to heed the call of nature on the street (Thommen, 2012: 127). Many prohibitions are evidence of this; perpetra- tors were threatened with the wrath of the gods. On one relief discovered in Aq- uileia, Jupiter is depicted casting lightning bolts at one such sinner (Thüry, 2001: 17-19). By analyzing the content of latrines we can discover detailed information about the diets of the lower and middle classes. On 14 August 79 CE Mount Ve- suvius buried the area around the Gulf of Naples in a hot layer of volcanic ash. Thanks to this tragic event, we have learned a great amount of information about daily life in the towns near Vesuvius (Parslow, 1995). One of these places that were literally frozen in time on that fateful day was the town of Herculaneum. Here the contents of the latrines have been preserved. The diet of the town’s long-ago inhabitants is known for relatively broad, rich array of food; as many as 110 different types of food have been recorded (Robinson et Rowan, 2015). Of the osteological material contained in excrement forty-six fish species were recorded (most likely as a result of the proximity to the sea). It is a remarkable fact that fish were eaten whole—bones, head, and all. The findings also included egg shells. The palette of spices they consumed was also relatively rich, including celery seeds, coriander, fennel, black pepper imported from India, and fig seeds (Robinson et Rowan, 2015). The general popularity of fermented fish sauce, known as garum (or liquamen) throughout the entire ancient world was remarkable. One garum factory was discovered in Pompeii (Curtis, 1983), where the process of making must have been necessarily accompanied by a strong smell of rotting fish.

83Emperor Vespasian faced criticism when he introduced a tax for using these public toilets, which allegedly became the first pay toilets in history (Hughes, 1996).

84Urine was in demand by leather processors.

100

WATER POLLUTION85 All of the waste management measures examined here simply just shifted the problem somewhere else—the result was river pollution near urban areas (Hughes, 2014). Pliny the Elder comments upon this phenomenon in his Natu- ralis Historia: “... we dye even the rivers and the elemental substances of Na- ture, and turn the very means of life into a bane” (Plinius Maior, Nat. hist. 18.1.3, tr. Rackham). Waste was often thrown directly into rivers. Once Nero reportedly needed to draw attention away from the failures of his military cam- paigns. He wanted to show the people that Rome had a surplus supply of grain. Indeed, to hide his concern over events abroad, Nero had the common people’s grain, which had rotted with age, dumped into the Tiber in order to maintain public confidence in the grain supply (Tacitus, Annales 15.18, transl. by Yard- ley). During the reign of this emperor, the bodies of victims of political purges were allegedly thrown into the Tiber: ... and they accompanied the putrefying corpses until they were dragged to the Tiber. There they floated around or were pushed to the banks by the current, and nobody cremated them or touched them (Tacitus, Annales 6.19, transl. by Yardley). As already mentioned, sewers often flowed into rivers without wastewater going under any kind of treatment. Galen (129–200 or 216) warns against eating fish from affected rivers: And some of them that dwell in rivers running through a large town, eating human dung and certain other bad food, are worst of all, as I said; so that even if they remain for a very short time after death, they straightaway become putrid and smell most unpleasantly. They are all unpleasant to eat and concoct and contain little nu- triment but much residue. (Galenos, De alimentorum facultatibus 3.24.4, transl. by O. Powell) (Nonetheless, some perch species were considered to be delica- cies.) Ritual drinking and bathing in the Tiber have also been documented (Weeber, 2006). From Imperial times, we have reports of cleaning the Tiber and

85On this topic, see Weeber, 2006; Thüry, 2001: 45-49.

101 widening its channel, already during the reign of Augustus: ... to control floods he widened and cleared the channel of the Tiber which had for a time been full of rubbish and narrowed by the encroachment of buildings (Suetonius, De vita ceasarum, Divus Augustus 30.1, trans. by D. Wardle). Such measures, however, were undertaken more to prevent flooding86 than to fight pollution itself. During Trajan's reign a sewerage administration office was established (Hughes, 2014: 176). Pliny the Younger, while serving as governor in the eastern part of the empire, reports to the same emperor on this problem in another city and an on a proposal for solving it: The city of the Amastrians,87 my lord, which is both smart and well appointed, has amongst its outstanding buildings a most beauti- ful and very extensive street. On its flank for its entire length runs a so-called river, but in reality it is the foulest of sewers. It is both unsightly in its most dis- gusting appearance and baneful in its most noisome smell. For these reasons it is in the interests of health as much as appearance that it should be covered over, and this will be carried out if you allow it, for we will see to it that money is not lacking for construction-work both massive and necessary. (Plinius Minor, Epistulae 10.98, transl. by P.G. Walsh).88 Another source of pollution were military camps; the later Roman author Vegetius gives advice for dealing with this problem, which, once again, merely circumvented the main problem: Neither should the army use bad or marsh water, for bad drinking-water, like poison, causes disease in the drinkers. ... If a multitude of soldiers stays too long in au- tumn or summer in the same place, then drinking-water contaminated by pollution of the water-supply and air tainted by the foul smell itself give rise to a most deadly disease. This can only be prevented by frequent changes of camp (Vege- tius: De re militari 3.2, transl. by N. P. Milner).

86For flooding on the Tiber, see ALDRETE, 2007.

87Amastris in Paphlagonia (a territory on the northern coast of Asia Minor)—today’s Amasra in Turkey.

88Trajan’s response (epist. 10.99): My fondest Secundus, it is reasonable to have that water covered which flows through the city of the Amastrians, if by remaining uncovered it is a hindrance to health. I am certain that with your punctiliousness you will ensure that the money is not lacking for this work.

102

AIR POLLUTION State authorities had to issue special public health protection regulations. One such example is a law preserved in the Codex Theodosianus (Jelínek et Kysučan, 2014).

“All of the lime kilns in the entire vicinity of the seacoast between the amphi- theater and the port of the Divine Julian we order abolished, in the interest of the health of this enormous city and due to the proximity to our palace: no one shall be granted permission to burn lime in these places” (in Jelínek et Kysučan, 2014). The amount of emissions from the open fires of tradesmen’s street-side workshops, overpopulation, omnipresent noise, 89 and the lax "Mediterranean" approach to hygiene must have made urban life in the hot summer months unbearable (Thüry, 2001). A lesser evil was the odor emanating from rotting waste itself, which was, again, primarily a problem in the summer. The smell of rubbish mixed with odors from other sources: Walking through the streets of Nero’s Rome in the first century AD, one would encounter the stench of refuse rotting by the wayside, the piercing fragrance of burning myrrh emanating from temples, the heavy aroma of food being cooked by street vendors, the sweet, seduc- tive scents of flowering gardens, tha malodour of rotting fish at a fishstand, the sharp smell of urine from a public latrine and perhaps the incense trail of a passing procession honouring a god or hero (Classen et al., 1994: 17). A worse phenomenon was the increased occurrence of various pests founding favourable living conditions in such messy places. During the reign of Emperor Domitian (81 to 96), pollution in the city of Rome began to be taken seriously; the organized extermination of rats, lice, and bed bugs took place (Thüry 2001: 49-54).

89In order to mitigate noise pollution, in many Roman towns wagons were prohibited from being used at night (Jelínek et Kysučan, 2014). 103

The most visible effects of lax attitudes towards waste was the common occurrence of diseases such as cholera, typhus, dysentery, hepatitis, and polio (Weeber, 2006). The truth, however, remains that even with the development of hygienic regulations and measures in the ancient world the number of parasites such as flagellates and Ascaris lumbricoides did not decline in comparison with the preceding Iron Age (Mitchell, 2015). Strong aromas and odors were just a part of daily life that the average citizen could simply not avoid. Air pollution in Rome was to a significant extent caused by heating homes with charcoal on the one hand, and the constant production of metals on the other hand, as well as from kilns of various types. When inversion kept a thick layer of smog and dust over the city, Romans called the occurrence “heavy skies”90(Hughes, 2001). Thus, from a certain perspective Rome might have seemed like an industrial city as we know them from the nineteenth century onward. We cannot superficially and romantically idealize any period in history.

CONCLUSION

It is hard to say whether we can identify with Lewis Mumford’s comparison of life in ancient Rome to life in a sewer (Mumford, 1961: 215). In any case, in Roman towns waste was a significant problem. In material and written sources we can find direct and indirect evidence about the dirtiness of streets. Inhabit- ants had the custom of removing waste from their homes and workplaces and depositing it nearby. Town authorities tried to prevent this bad habit or tried to have existing waste removed. In general, however, there is no evidence of widespread municipal waste management in the modern sense of the word; there were only individual efforts at dealing with waste. Solid waste was deposited in dumps at the town’s margins; liquid waste was flushed from the streets into the sewers, if it was not poured in directly. No strict differentiations were made,

90The extent of air pollution in the ancient world was so great that high concentrations of chemicals emitted between the first and fourth centuries BC can be found in Greenland’s ice layers (Hong et al., 1994). 104 however. Sewers were also full of solid waste. In some places the existence of public latrines has been documented. These measures most likely did not have the desired effect, although they were implemented throughout the entire existence of the Empire. A general awareness of the need for cleanliness seems to not have existed at all (Thommen, 2012: 128) and the extent of people’s innate revulsion towards dirtiness was a highly individual phenomenon during the Roman era. We can expect this phenomenon particularly amongst the upper classes. Judd H. Alexander has put forth a remarkable hypothesis: the pollution, dirt, and smells of the city drove elites away to cleaner mountainous and coastal areas. This change led to the decentralization of power and de facto accelerated the creeping collapse of the entire empire (Al- exander, 1993). This interesting observation, however, should only be viewed as one factor affecting social conditions during the Empire’s downfall. Moreover, the measures presented in this paper were more or less superficial solutions. The most important thing was that waste was not seen or smelt in em- inent parts of the city. The problems were not removed; they were just moved elsewhere and continued to grow. The pollution of ground and surface water, contamination from dumps, and the disposal of waste in rivers were all significant problems. Emissions from burning materials also polluted the air. The advancement of the Romans beyond other developed ancient cultures is up for debate and will require more thorough study. Organized waste management only began in the nineteenth century in some places, but only became widespread in the twentieth century. Instead of parallels, we can speak more about indications when it comes to Roman civilization.

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Smith, V., (2007). Clean: a History of Personal Hygiene and Purity. Oxford University Press. Tacitus, C., (2008). The Annals: The Reigns of Tiberius, Claudius, and Nero: The Reigns of Tiberius, Claudius, and Nero. Oxford University Press. Thommen, L., (2012). An environmental history of ancient Greece and Rome. Cambridge University Press. Thüry, G. E., (2001). Müll und Marmorsäulen. Siedlungshygiene in der Römischen Antike. Mainz: P. von Zabern. Trevelyan, G. M., (1907). Garibaldi's Defence of the Roman Catholic Republic. Longmans, Green and Company. Vesilind, P. A., Worrell, W., & Reinhart, D., (2002). Solid waste engineering. Brooks/Cole. Pacific Grove. California USA. Walsh, P.G., (2006). Complete letters / Pliny the younger; translated with an introduction and notes by P.G. Walsh. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006. Wardle, D., (2015). Suetonius: Life of Augustus. Oxford University Press. Weeber, K. W., (2006). "Refuse." Brill’s New Pauly. Antiquity volumes edited by: Hubert Cancik and Helmuth Schneider. Brill Online, 2015. Reference. Masaryk University - Masarykova. Retrieved October 18, 2015, from First appeared online: 2006. William, I., (1997). The Anatomy of Disgust. Cambridge, Mass. Harvard University Press. Wexler, P., (2014). History of Toxicology and Environmental Health: Toxicology in Antiquity II. Academic Press.

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APPENDIX

Fig. 1: Public latrines in Ostia, Italy. Courtesy of Filip Havlíček, 2015

Fig. 2: Public latrines in Ostia, Italy. Courtesy of Filip Havlíček, 2015

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Fig. 3: Contemporary appearance of Cloaca Maxima sewer. Courtesy of Filip Havlíček, 2015

Fig. 4: Roman aqueduct. Courtesy of Filip Havlíček, 2015

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Fig. 5: Contemporary appearance of Monte Testaccio. Courtesy of Filip Havlíček, 2015

Fig. 6: Contemporary appearance of Monte Testaccio; profile with material deposits. Courtesy of Filip Havlíček, 2015

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Fig. 7: Monte Testaccio – overall view of the waste heap. AUT Archivio Urbano Testaccio (in Rodriguez Almeida 1984)

Fig. 8: Monte Testaccio – cross-section of the waste heap in one sector. AUT Archivio Urbano Testaccio in Rodriguez Almeida 1984)

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Fig. 9: Monte Testaccio – detail of a surface section from 1940. AUT Archivio Urbano Testaccio (in Rodriguez Almeida 1984)

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Study V.

10.1515/jlecol-2017-0005 Journal of Landscape Ecology (2017)

WASTE MANAGEMENT AND ATTITUDES TOWARDS CLEANLI- NESS IN MEDIEVAL CENTRAL EUROPE

1 2 3 FILIP HAVLÍČEK , ADÉLA POKORNÁ , JAKUB ZÁLEŠÁK

1Department of Environmental Studies, Masaryk University, Brno, Czechia, e- mail: [email protected] 2Archeologický ústav AV ČR, Prague, Czechia 3Department of Materials Physics, Montanuniversität Leoben, Leoben, Austria

Received: 10th March 2017, Accepted: 9th June 2017

MOTTO:

The sewer is the conscience of the city. Victor Hugo

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ABSTRACT

The paper deals with the relationships between people and waste in the Middle Ages, primarily in urban environments in Central Europe. At the center of interest are the attitudes of the inhabitants of medieval cities towards cleanliness and a description of different waste management practices. This paper also describes an experiment using ashes to launder clothing as one possible use of a particular waste material. Keywords: Middle Ages, waste, waste management, recycling, environment, hygiene, cleanliness, ashes, clothes laundering

INTRODUCTION

Today, when people think of the past, they often attribute a sense of back- wardness to our ancestors. This opinion seems to be stronger the deeper we delve into human history — and pre-history. This view clearly stems from the linear view of human progress over time; history has gradually led from primi- tivism to today’s “perfect state of progress.” But we are often surprised when we discover historical facts that reveal how advanced—technologically, artistically, or otherwise — our predecessors were. And the further back we go in time, the greater our surprise. Similar prejudices prevail in how we imagine the sanitation and waste management practices of our predecessors. Another common belief is that societies that produced only organic waste did not have to deal with waste management because everything they threw away decomposed on its own. This stereotype, however, cannot really be applied to any actual society. It cannot be assumed that if only organic waste was produced, its presence did not need to be dealt with. The Middle Ages are generally thought of as the dark ages. Perhaps how

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medieval society viewed public space91 or the hegemony of the Catholic clergy who called for purity of spirit at the expense of bodily cleanliness92 (see further) contributed to this conception. Well-worn images of people dumping waste from their windows; narrow, muddy city streets; and ubiquitous dirt and disease are applied to the entire Middle Ages. The aim of this paper is to re-examine the above-described views of this period. We will focus on whether the relationship of medieval society to waste and public space was truly so hopeless, as well as examine how people managed waste. Based on case studies documented in historical, written sources as well as in material, archaeological ones, we will attempt to shed some new light on this issue in Europe. Considering the fact that there are no set, universal dates for the medieval period, as its duration differed from region to region, we must establish a suitable timeframe for our study. This study shall focus on the German High Middle Ages between 1050 and 1250, and the late Middle Ages between 1250 and 1500. At the same time, our geographical focus is mainly on waste management in Central Europe. This paper focuses in detail on the urban environment because it can provide a greater source of data about waste management (in the form of archaeological findings and written sources) than rural areas. Towns, with their confined nature, had a more urgent need to solve waste-related problems.93

DEFINING WASTE

Every living organism produces waste. Human beings are no exception; in fact, they produce much more waste than other organisms. This fact stems from

91On the basis of written sources, Norbert Elias showed how understandings of public space, the shame associated with bodily functions, violence, and table manners changed in the transition from the Middle Ages and the Early Modern Era (Elias, 1969).

92 It must be added that Catholic clergy along with educated monks comprised the only educated class in medieval society. Innovations in monastery architecture made ingenious contributions to waste management in these buildings.

93The fact that the contemporary Fresh Kills landfill on Staten Island is the largest manmade structure on Earth with an area of twenty square kilometers bears witness to the key function of waste in human society.

117 humans’ ability to adapt using artefacts, thanks to which they could acclimate to the variety of natural conditions found throughout the Earth. People produce an abundant variety of waste. On the one hand there is universal, ubiquitous bodily waste; on the other, human activities have resulted in waste specific to the place and time in which it was produced. This type of waste is an important source of information about the lives of ancient people that we can uncover with the help of archaeological research. We can obtain a wealth of information from waste: it can tell us about common everyday items, the technologies used to produce them, long-distance trade (when items of distant provenience are found), and social differences on the basis of the use of luxury items and common objects. Waste deposits are also an important source of information about food sources (thanks to animal bone and plant macro-residue finds), about the health of the population (e.g., parasite egg finds), or about the natural environment at the settlement and its vicinity. Con- sidering the fact that towns have had to deal with waste since they first emerged,94 urban waste is a valuable source of information about the day-to-day lives of town dwellers. Dozens of archeobotanical studies that provide invalua- ble information have been conducted on medieval waste deposits in many Euro- pean cities. Urban waste can often tell us much about agricultural practices in a town’s hinterlands because the composition of weeds found therein is a good reflection of the conditions under which grain was grown (weeds were often sorted from grain before milling; therefore, these weeds found their way into the town). On the basis of macro-residue found in medieval pits in Olomouc, a detailed reconstruction of synanthropic vegetation growing directly in the town has been conducted (Opravil, 1994). In the following text, we shall, however, examine waste from a slightly different perspective. Breaking with tradition, we want to use it to study the waste itself. We are interested in how our ancestors managed waste and what were there

94For example, the Neolithic settlement of Çatal Hüyük in modern Turkey, where the study of waste resulted in great knowledge about the relationships between local inhabitants.

118 attitudes towards it, and more generally, towards the cleanliness of their environment. Due to waste’s fluid nature, we shall first attempt to define and categorize waste. Several categories of waste can be defined (Graph 1); in the Middle Ages waste was made up of kitchen waste, human and animal excrement (this category includes two sub-categories based on how this material was deposited), construction waste, and waste created when producing artefacts.

Fig. 1: Graph 1 (Author: Filip Havlíček)

Ore mining waste also existed in the form of gangue; mixed waste can also be found. We can also include a category of other waste because some materials defy identification.95 According to Guillerme, in our list we must also include

95If a rare artefact is found amongst waste, it could have gotten there by chance, and therefore it would not be appropriate to 119 waste water, which was produced when organic materials such as hides, wool, hemp, and flax were soaked before further processing (Guillerme, 1988). How- ever, as we are interested in the relationships people had with their waste in the past, mechanical classification based on origin will not suffice. All waste needs to be evaluated in context, not as an independent entity. The attitude we have towards a particular type of waste plays a fundamental role in our perception of it. Thus, the term waste contains many meanings and how it is perceived depends on its context.96 Just as a resource may transform into waste, waste, too, may become a resource. It all depends on how we view the given material. In- stead of a one-way view of the waste process in which resources transform into waste, we work with a model of recycling or reutilization, which were typical practices before the Industrial Revolution. Cognitively speaking, waste is located somewhere outside of the human order. Waste de facto ceases to exist only once it has fully and definitively decomposed. In practice waste management has a fully causal relationship with the size of the population97 of a given agglomeration. A suitable place for observing these environmental problems is the city––that is, a place where a large amount of people coexist in a relatively small space.

THE MEDIEVAL TOWN AND DEPOSITING WASTE

Medieval cities 98 were compact, layered, and closed off by walls; market squares functioned as the economic and social heart of the city. This definition

consider such waste as mixed waste. Thus, this category helps us “blur the edges” of the other sharply defined waste categories and include here objects that are open to classification.

96Mary Douglas gives the example of how differently hair is viewed when on people’s heads and when found in soup (Douglas, 2003).

97Its production is an indelible part of the functioning of all organisms.

98There is a German saying that “the air of the city is liberating” (Le Goff, 1997). Moving from the countryside to the city meant for many people an opportunity to leave behind a socially bound group of relatives and acquaintances for the anonymous environment of the city. Cities, which over the course of the centuries filled with new inhabitants, sometimes did not easily accept new arrivals. The large market, money, and number of people were all advantages. To become a burgher was 120 points to some of the basic attributes of cities. The more a town began to grow, the greater its need for waste management. Unlike rural areas, where the contents of dung heaps and waste pits could be used as fertilizer, towns were dependent upon the regular removal of waste, which was ideally performed by municipal offices (Jenner, 1991). Towns, with their limited surface area, were forced to constantly grow upward. In a city such as Prague, with its well-preserved historical urban core, we can easily demonstrate the tendency for cities to develop upward. The original ground floors of medieval houses are today usually cellars. In some cases, it was best to artificially raise the land or in places level the ground by filling with waste or gravel. This was the case in Prague’s New Town, where the location of previous wetlands (surrounding today’s V jámě Street) was used as a dump for household waste and construction waste. Filling in this space resulted in new building plots (Březinová & Selmi Wallisová, 2016). It is, however, difficult to trace the evolution of waste in towns with any continuity in the medieval period. Due to regular street cleaning, today we do not know the full stratigraphy of street waste in some towns (Březinová & Selmi Wallisová, 2016). As Moravec notes, in seventeenth-century Ostrava, bailiff’s instructions were issued that prohibited the accumulation of waste in front of and behind buildings, in the streets, and along town walls (Adamus, 1929 in Moravec, 2014).99 However, as some archaeological studies of urban spaces demonstrate, such regulations were not always adhered to. For example, in the lower part of today’s Wenceslaus Square waste deposits greater than one meter in thickness have been found (Pokorná, in press). Several thin layers of polished river stones are clearly rec- ognizable between refuse layers containing common kitchen waste and various scraps and unfished products from artisans’ workshops. It seems that from time

not easy and many landless people were unable to overcome the barriers that the minority of original inhabitants set up in order to protect their high status. Nonetheless, it was the countryside that to a large extent facilitated urban growth (Le Goff, 1997).

99The potential use of waste deposits during sieges by enemy combatants was already mentioned in ancient Rome. Therefore, it was forbidden to deposit waste nearby town fortifications (Pichtel, 2005)

121 to time the surface of the square was levelled and waste was covered in gravel that was transported in. Waste can be categorized based on its material nature, that is, whether it is organic or inorganic, or its place of origin, that is, from dwellings, from workshops, or from construction sites. Understandably, these proposed categories cannot be isolated, closed-off units; their mutual effects on each other and their intermingling demonstrate the complexity of the processes associated with the production, existence, and subsequent study of human waste. We can theoretically classify archeologically proven waste storage areas into four types: 1.) Sites created primarily for this purpose – pits, which likely served for depositing any type of waste (organic kitchen waste, fecal matter, artefacts). Pits were generally square shaped with a support beam in each corner; wooden braces were placed horizontally between the trams to provide greater support, whereas the back of the pit was lined with wooden boards (Moravec, 2014). These pits were sometimes up to 5 meters deep (Moravec, 2014). Following the concepts put forth in Neustupný’s theory of waste areas (2007), we can define the waste contained in these pits as secondary waste. Considering the moist, anaerobic environments in pits, artefacts made of organic materials, which under normal conditions in an oxygenated environment would rapidly decompose, as well as ecofacts, such as floral macro-residue, were often preserved. 2.) Sites primarily serving another purpose, which saw secondary use for depositing waste (e.g., dried-up wells or cellars of abandoned and decaying houses, or pits originally dug for other purposes, such as clay pits, etc.). This type of waste management is evidenced from the Neolithic Age, when abandoned houses were used as waste dumps (Květina, 2010). Again, this type of management results in secondary refuse following E. Neustupný’s classification.

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3.) Surface waste areas, dumps (again secondary refuse according to E. Neustupný). The above-mentioned layers of waste from Wenceslaus Square certainly fall into this category. 4.) Randomly located, disorderly and irregularly deposited or discarded waste. (primary refuse according to E. Neustupný). It is remarkable to note that findings clearly indicate that organic artefacts, which could have been used as heating fuel, often ended up in pits. A large amount of wooden materials has been found in such sites (fragments as well as nearly complete wooden artefacts). The variety of organic material also includes bones, wood scraps, and scraps of leather (e.g., from shoemaking), and organic macro-residue, including the stones of cherries and other fruits, eggs shells, animal bones, and hearth ashes (Moravec, 2014). Inorganic artefacts found in Mo- ravská Ostrava include stone and metal fragments (including slag), glass artefacts, daub, and pottery (Moravec, 2014). Thus, it seems that all material that was for some reason attributed the status of waste ended up in pits. Occasionally, artefacts appear in pits that we assume were discarded by acci- dent (classified as “other waste”). One such example is a polished piece of chal- cedony discovered in a fecal pit from Prague’s Horse Market (Koňský trh, the location of today’s Wenceslaus Square) near the house of physician Matyáš Borbonius of Borbenheim; this stone was allegedly used for reducing fever (Pokorný, 1999). The composition of waste materials might indicate the social status of the inhabitants of each plot. For example, the rare presence of silk in a waste deposit might be a sign of prosperity and the high socioeconomic standing of the person who used it, as opposed to the owners of more common woolen or linen textiles (Březinová & Selmi Wallisová, 2016). The discovery of rare exotic spices and fruits bears witness to the exceptional status of a property owner, and at the same time it provides us with information about long-distance trade; examples include the discovery of nutmeg in Beroun (Čulíková, 1994) or discover- ies of less common plants (Čulíková, 1995; 2007). It is also interesting to note

123 that pits were often emptied after they filled up. The material was likely deposited somewhere outside the town walls. As Moravec notes, if refuse was thrown into a river, it is nearly impossible to find. According to Hoffman, however, town leaders took care of water quality in rivers (Hoffmann, 2009). Moravec assumes that pits were cleaned out every three to five years and that one pit could be used for about twenty to thirty years.100 Understandably, we must take these figures with a grain of salt (we do not know how many people used one pit or how often), as the author himself mentions (Moravec, 2014). If a pit was regularly cleaned out, then the archaeological findings reflect the last phase of its use. Conserved full pits that have been covered with a thick layer of clay can also be studied using archaeological methods. Beginning in the fourteenth century and picking up in intensity from the sixteenth century onward, waste sites were permanently lined and regularly cleaned out after filling up.101

WASTE IN THE STREETS

If the streets and squares of a medieval town were paved, it was an exception; their surfaces were usually covered in just a thin layer of sand, stones, branches, or boards. Universal paved streets might seem at first glance to be major advancement, but sometimes paving might have resulted in unexpected problems. If urban paving stones102 were not combined with other measures, they “plugged up” the relationship between the town and the soil (Sterner, 2008)103; there was no natural means for waste to dissipate and soak into the soil. Such problems

100Larger pits that exceeded 20m³ in volume could be used for about 50 years (by four to six users) (Schütte, 1986).

101Nonetheless, previously dried-up wells were already used for depositing waste. It is remarkable to note that medieval society, before the rise of science during the Enlightenment, did not associate epidemics with waste and contaminated water (cesspits have been discovered in the immediate proximity of well, for example). At the time people saw the link between disease and environmental pollution more in terms of air quality. Therefore, it is no wonder that medieval society suffered from cholera epidemics and various parasitic diseases, as studies of medieval ponds indicate. Waste usually found a way into the water (Pokorný, 1999).

102From written sources (specifically from a decrees of paving rights in the Bohemian town of Louny) we can learn that “Due to the depth and immensity of the mud up, until now for many people it was not easy to wade across the street and looking at it made you sick to your stomach” (Hoffmann, 2009).

103Before paving came into use and in places where stone was inaccessible, corduroy roads made of logs bound together. They allowed movement in wet environments.

124 arose in Paris, when King Phillip Augustus decided in 1292 to pave all of Paris’s streets (in part because of bad odors) (Corbin, 1986). Smaller streets and side streets in towns were sometimes intentionally used as aboveground sewers for draining rain water, as well as waste water (and thus fecal matter as well, most likely). These ditches contributed to making smells worse (Hoffmann, 2009). Astronomer and physician Kříšťan of Prachatice104 was clearly talking about Prague when he said, “Oh, how fitting would be a clean town free of the malo- dors of rotten carcasses, hanged men on the gallows, and empty cellars, for more people would be healthier… (Hoffmann, 2009). In the Zbraslav Chronicle one can encounter the following sentence in a passage on famine: “When the poor where turned away from the doors of Prague houses and were not admitted for lodgings due to the thefts they had committed, at night lying on the streets and squares, they, for the nakedness of their bodies and the chill of the frost, would climb, like pigs,105 into dung that had been thrown from horse stables into the street” (Dudák, 2002). Such references seem to fit in well with stereotypical no- tions about the common occurrence of throwing fecal matter106 and waste from buildings onto the street.107 However, such ideas seem to be far from the truth. After a few months’ time, medieval streets would have been impassable. 108 Written sources indicate that waste was transported outside of town walls with a frequency that was likely related to the intensity with which the streets filled

104In Plzeň Hilarius Litoměřický also preached about keeping the streets clean and warned against malodorous dung, which was a source of the plague.

105Every situation was unique and reflected the local situation and politics. For example, in Frankfurt raising pigs in the old town was forbidden in 1481 due to the mess they made. According to town leaders, this practice was incompatible with the size of a city such as Frankfurt (Pounds, 2014).

106Large cities such as London, Paris, and Venice had tens of thousands of inhabitants in the Middle Ages (Schofield, 2003). The average medieval urban dweller may have produced on average 150 g of stool per day; today’s average is 128 g (Rose, 2015). In earlier times, people ate more fiber than in today’s Europe. If we do the math, each person produced about 55 kg of excrement per year. Even though human stool contains up to 75% water (Rose, 2015), even smaller towns would be filled up with it quickly. People did defecate on the streets, but they often did so on smaller side streets and alleys. In Plzeň and Louny streets existed in the Middle Ages that bore vulgar names such as Usraná ulička (Beshitten Lane) (Hoffmann, 2009).

107It must also be mentioned that free-roaming animals, such as dogs and pigs, could have partially cleaned the streets of organic waste and excrements (for more about this idea, see the current situation in Madagascar). Animals owners were likely not anonymous and their animals were somehow marked, e.g., with bells (Hoffmann, 2009). This method of “grazing and ownership” related to waste management is known from more recent times from cities such as Cairo (Eriksen, 2011).

108Assuming that accumulated waste was not dealt with in anyway and inhabitants relied on rainwater to wash it away.

125 with waste.109 In the Middle Ages there were even reportedly citizens’ initiatives demanding streets in front of buildings were kept clean (Rawcliffe, 2012).110 Waste areas were created outside of towns, where paid workers would transport street waste when need be (Jørgensen, 2008). As medieval towns grew, new, previously unexpected situations emerged that needed to be dealt with systematically.111 In 1469 throwing refuse out of windows onto the street was prohibited; it could only be discarded in public spaces when it was raining so that it would be washed out of the town (Hoffmann, 2009). The town would only pay for street cleaning after large events, such as markets. People from the lowest walks of life—beggars and vagrants—were hired to do this job (Hoffmann, 2009). The fear of epidemics was one of the driving forces behind urban environmental management.112 Knackers, shepherd, prisoners, and paupers were hired to clean the streets of animal carcasses and waste (Sádlo, 2005).113 According to Cipolla, northern Italian cities such as Florence, Genoa, Milan, and Venice had the most progressive solutions for waste management in the Middle Ages and Early Modern Period (Cipolla 1981). Cipolla associated this progressiveness with the Roman Empire’s advanced state of technology and society; he even talks about it being part of the heritage of the empire. For example, concern about the at- mosphere comes from Classical times; we can encounter it in the thinking of Hippocrates. There was, however, nothing superstitious about it; in the Classical

109For example, Schütte (1986) states that the central German town of Göttingen (6,000 inhabitants) produced more than 1,200 tons of waste per year and more than 88 million liters of wastewater.

110Despite bans, sometimes waste was thrown out of windows, as evidenced by several relevant court cases (Hoffmann, 2009).

111Thick layers of organic materials made up mainly of horse manure have been found by archeolgists in Prague’s Old Town. Older paving stones were placed atop these layers (Březinová & Selmi Wallisová, 2016).

112In the Middle Ages it was a commonly held belief that diseases (such as the plague) were spread through the air through noxious vapors (i.e., miasmata) emitted by decaying material contained in waste deposits, dung heaps, etc. (Erisksen, 2011). Today, we know that the plague was transmitted to humans by fleas that fed on rats. Therefore, the rats that lived off of human-produced waste posed a major public health threat. This theme was later incorporated into the medieval German legend of the pied piper of Hamelin.

113Before glass windows appeared, windows were shut by wooden shutters. Prior to the fourteenth century small windows were covered with translucent film made of animal offal (Hoffmann, 2009). These types of openings must have permitted outdoor stenches to penetrate dwellings with greater intensity than if there had been glass windows. The issues of light and ventilation (especially in winter) can only be debated.

126 world, for example, when cities were built, much greater attention was paid to wind currents, humidity, and so on, than today. In Venice one island was set aside only for depositing waste, which was transported there daily by boat.114 Some interesting, local evidence about waste management in medieval Prague and its progression over time has been preserved. Organic material filled into the Old Town moat has been analyzed (Beneš et al., 2002); this material comes from several periods in the moat’s existence. During the thirteenth century, when the moat was used for defensive purposes, it was kept clean (clean water flowed through it and refuse did not accumulate here). After the establishment of the New Town in 1345 the moat lost its defensive function, at which point it only served as a border between the two neighboring towns. It became a wel- comed space for depositing refuse, and it quickly filled with organic material. It is interesting to note that after a certain amount of time, the intensity in which refuse was discarded here diminished; we know this thanks to the species composition of plants found here (species that grow on abandoned land without long-term disturbances). Written sources indicate that in the sixteenth century citizens established gardens along the entire length of the former moat. At the same time, there is evidence of efforts by town officials to clean the ditch, which indicates that it was still being filled in with waste (Pokorná et al., in print). The existence of gardens established on former dumps sparks an interesting question: Would such an idea be thinkable today? Contemporary waste contained only organic and natural materials, which acted as good fertilizer; nonetheless, waste from some trades could also be highly toxic.

TOILETS, LATRINES, AND GARDEROBES

The woodcarving depicted in Fig. 3 is often interpreted as illustrating medieval attitudes towards public space (see Pichtel, 2005; Sterner, 2008; etc.). However,

114Similarly, in 1947 the Fresh Kills Landfill was established on one of New York City’s islands.

127 this scene most likely shows just the punishment for disturbing the peace at night. The woman dumping the contents of the vessel on the heads of street mu- sicians is probably not interested here in waste management; she wants to force the rabble-rousers to be quiet. 115 Although it is certain that wastewater was sometimes dumped from windows, this practice was almost certainly not a standard form of waste removal. Smith mentions, for example, that close stools or chamber pots kept under the bed were used as medieval toilets in Western European bedrooms (Smith, 2007). If a family was of a certain means, they modernized their dwelling, built a second floor, added a chimney, and set aside a special place for dirty activities located generally outside in the yard (Smith, 2007). In most castles pit toilets and latrines were built and could number several dozen. Most places, however, lacked sewers116 and flush toilets were a rarity (Smith, 2007); in the Czech lands most people did not have a toilet in their home until the sixteenth century (Hoffmann, 2009). Today, we can still find many preserved medieval toilets in castles. Castles and monasteries often had latrines that drained into rivers or moats. The garderobe is a type of medieval castle toilet (Durdík, 2000) that generally extends from an exterior castle wall. After defecating, excrement fell down the castle wall and into the moat. At Buchlov Caste, we find see a toilet with a waste chute leading directly to the second courtyard (Figs. 3, 4, and 5). The question still remains of how this material was dealt with afterward. At the same castle one can find a fortified toilet with an arrowslit; the toilet itself and the drain “pipes” were covered in sheathing (Fig. 6, 7, 8, and 9). The seat was usually made of simple stone or wood (depending on its user’s status, it could also be upholstered). Toilet paper, in today’s sense of the word, however, did not exist for common people. Jíří Sádlo has put forward a remarkable idea—in some cases it seems that moss was

115Hoffmann notes that louder trades were performed farther away from churches or outside of town walls (Hoffmann, 2009).

116The town that Leonardo da Vinci proposed for King Francis I of France, was ahead of its time. He planned to connect all buildings in the town to a sewer system that drained into a river (flowing water, not stagnant water, was an important element here). One of the pillars of this proposed town was waste management and related air quality measures (Sternen, 2008). Although this was not a new idea (recall the Cloaca Maximus in Rome), it was significant in its view of the city as a whole (Sternen, 2008).

128 used in place of toilet paper.117 Archaeologists have found moss in pits (Schütte, 1986; Sádlo, 2005). The most common species include red-stemmed feather- moss (Pleurozium Schreberi), glittering woodmoss (Hylocomium splendens), and Neckera crispa (Sádlo, 2005). Moss also could have been used to make something akin to today’s menstrual pads. This type of hygienic aid is known to have been used even after World War I.118 Moss might have been utilized for its antiseptic effects (Morton et al., 2010). In the countryside, bodily waste was applied to the soil as fertilizer with a high potassium and phosphorous content (Gibson et Farrar, 1974). This strategy of reutilizing human excrement as fertilizer was an important part of medieval agriculture (Sterner, 2008).119 Nearly all organic waste was brought to the fields to be used as fertilizer. Here, rural areas were significantly different from medieval urban areas, where it was impossible to effectively reuse this unpleasant waste. In this context, Gandy notes a disrupt- ed continuation between waste and productivity, between agriculture and waste, and between town and countryside.120 Thus, the malodor121 of waste does not evoke the productivity of the town, but becomes its unpleasant partner. In the eyes of urban dwellers, the countryside was a place of leisure and recreation (Gandy, 1999). Fertilizer, however, was not the only use for human excrement. It was occasionally put to use when laying siege to castles; the attackers would employ a strategy intended to contaminate their enemy’s position with infection and bad smells. Barrels filled with fecal matter, animal carcasses, and other unclean

117Jiří Sádlo also toys with the idea of a specialized trade—“mossmen,” who would collect and sell moss for various construction and sanitary purposes. Moss was used in buildings as insulation and perhaps as damping material in stone buildings. The recent discovery of the use of moss (most likely to spread out the weight of the stonework) on stones contained in the ninth arch of Prague’s Charles Bridge is remarkable (interview with Petr Pokorný). In the Wallachian region of the Czech lands, moss was still used in the twentieth century as insulation for wooden cottages, where it was stuffed in between the beams the cottage was made of. 118http://americanhistory.si.edu/collections/search/object/nmah_729448

119This manner of fertilizing is still used in some parts of the world today (such as in China).

120It was the disconnection of the town from agriculture and the inclination towards industry and commerce that definitively separated the urban environment and the rural into two worlds dependent upon each other.

121From the thirteenth century onward, the air was considered unbearable in towns. The need of burghers to spend the summer in rural retreats probably reflects this idea. (LeGoff, 1997). Here, we can see an analogy with ancient Rome (Hughes, 2001).

129 items were shot from trebuchets and catapults. One well-known case is the siege of Karlštejn Castle of 1422, when the contents of such barrels (there were reportedly 1822 of them) were collected in Prague’s cesspools (Uchytil, 2012). Considering the fact that at castles the source of drinking water was often rainwater, fecal matter that struck the roof could contaminate drinking water of the troops defending the castle in the future. A remarkably comprehensive analysis of the contents of medieval toilets was conducted in Worcester (Greig, 1981). Researchers found thirty-eight beetle species, some of which evidently lived off of the uninviting contents of the latrines, whereas others hunted and ate these insects. In addition, they discovered various crop pests that may have been thrown away when rotten food was discarded. Woodworms that may have fed off the toilet seats have also been found. And of course, moss was also found. The seeds of edible plant species were also found and include mustard, flax, grapes, gooseberries, raspberries, blackberries, cherries, plums, apples, coriander, fennel, figs, hazelnuts, blueberries, and oats. A similar variety of edible plant remains has also been found in medieval Czech cesspits.

WASTE AND SOCIETY

Written sources provide evidence that the streets of medieval towns often did feature piles of waste accompanied, especially in warmer months, by strong odors and swarms of insects. On the other hand, town dwellers were certainly not pleased with this situation and on many occasions tried to rectify the problem, with varying degrees of success. Thus, it seems that in the Middle Ages certain general rules about cleanliness already existed. The mere existence of such often unwritten rules did not automatically guarantee perfect cleanliness; such rules, however, express a certain ideal that should guide the way. It was up to each person whether or not he or she would live by them. As Mary Douglas (2003) has demonstrated, if rules of cleanliness exist, we must ask what is their

130 political significance, or, more specifically, who is excluded and discredited by these rules.122 The same patterns of behavior can be observed in how waste is managed. During plagues or other wide-scale infectious epidemics that broke out during the Middle Ages, it was believed that Jews were responsible; this notion sometimes resulted in pogroms. In the Middle Ages Jews were separated from the social majority in ghettoes. Hoffmann writes: “The cause was often sought out amongst the Jews—unjustifiably [when Jewish bathing rituals were thought] to contaminate water, and justifiably when Jewish homes [that] were often overcrowded and filthy” were viewed as the cause. (Hoffmann, 2009).123 The sociopsychological phenomenon of the diffusion of responsibility is often manifested in how waste in handled. In some cases, this model could represent people’s attitude towards waste. For people, it is clearly easier to make a place that is already dirty dirtier than it is to dirty a clean place. In practice, places were waste has been collected will acquire more waste faster than the street, which is clean; the reason is that someone else is responsible for starting the waste pile and we are merely contributing to it. In the process, we avoid the responsibility of the initial pollution. Diffusing responsibility is a prosocial behavior. In practice, we attribute the responsibility of a certain phenomenon to other the people involved in it, of course, while excluding ourselves (Darley & Latane, 1968). Religion and its influence on day-to-day life could have played a role in evalu- ating cleanliness and related attitudes toward waste management in the Middle Ages. Theoretically, the medieval way of life was focused on caring for the

122Environmental protection efforts are often mainly motivated by economics, as Martin O’Brien demonstrates (2008).

123It is worth noting that today’s city centers and wealthy neighborhoods are cleaned more often using public money than poor areas and ghettoes. Eriksen states that in Western Europe, prestigious parts of the city were generally situated in the western part of the city. There was a rational reason for this—the wind blowing from the sea from the west was not contaminated with the smell of waste (Eriksen, 2011). The driving forces behind the location of more prestigious neighborhoods in cities are quite interesting. In many cases they are located on hills, perhaps due to better air, views, etc. Some sort of evolutionary paleo-instinct leads us to copying this pattern. We naturally seek out vantage points (lookout towers and elevated spots) when we go hiking in our free time. The desire to find look-out points is probably the result of natural selection, an adaptation that might have occurred in the Paleolithic Era. Having a view of the land enabled our ancestors to observe migrating animals, a necessity for hunters and gatherers. On the other hand, in cities at higher elevations, and with thinner air, more prestigious, wealthy neighborhoods are found in the lower parts of the city (e.g., in Quito, Ecuador, and in La Paz, Bolivia). 131 mind, whereas caring for the body as a value was kept in the background (Hoffmann, 2009). The cult of the body, bodily pleasure, and cleanliness as well, may have been in conflict with the dogmatic teachings of the Catholic Church, which called for spiritual cleanliness. Some verses in the Old Testament (for example in Leviticus) proscribe things that are unclean—for example, some animals, childbirth, the unclean skin of lepers, and sexual uncleanliness. It is also forbidden to touch animal carcasses, human corpses, animal and human excrement, and unclean places. Copulation, “unclean” women (most likely those that were menstruating), diseases, sperm, blood, nakedness, and physical de- formities were also considered unclean (Smith, 2007). The rejection of caring for one’s body is a remarkable change considering these Old Testament rules and the preceding Classical era with its baths, decorated latrines, etc. Although medieval cities did have baths, they often had bad reputations as brothels (Hoffmann, 2009). As Smith notes, society was not dirty; if a man wanted to get somewhere in life, he had to take care of himself and dress properly in clean clothes (Smith, 2007). From the perspective of hygiene, Christianity, as the dominant religion in medieval Europe, called for spiritual cleanliness at the expense of bodily cleanliness (for example, in Islam and Judaism great emphasis is placed on ritual cleanliness, bathing, animal slaughter, and food preparation). Christian rules stood in contrast to the “exuberant pagan life,” ancient Greece’s cult of the body, and the hedonistic life of the Roman elite. Christian asceticism focused on dogmatic teachings about forgoing sex, fasting, and extended periods of isola- tion. The rituals associated with animal slaughter in Judaism are very strict. Cleanliness is emphasized (special rooms exist for different activities) and it was not possible to slaughter animals in public space, as Bartosiewicz notes in his study of the “archaeology of bad smells” (Bartosiewicz, 2003). However, we would like to avoid overgeneralization and labeling the entire Middle Ages as a period of filth. It is definitely necessary to keep in mind the

132 fact that dirtiness was a problem that was to a significant extent an economic and technical problem. The medieval elite were concerned with cultivating the body—for example, women adorned themselves with various items and a cult of the strong, graceful body of the knight existed. As has already been mentioned, many monasteries (for example, those belong to the Cistercian Order) had a sanitation infrastructure for waste management that was a highly advanced for the era (Vlček et al., 1997).

RECYCLING AND THE SECONDARY REUSE OF WASTE

Recycling played a fundamental role in the medieval life. Practically all usable material was recycled or otherwise reutilized. In rural areas fecal matter was used as fertilizer. This use was also possible in medieval towns, where land between houses could be used for small-scale farming. In Central Europe, which in this period was to a certain extent in the “shadow” of the richer western and southwestern regions of Europe, buildings were often rebuilt instead of new buildings being constructed. Perhaps the greater extent of the secondary use of all major construction materials such as wood, stone, brick, and perhaps even daub stemmed from this fact. For example, in some cases building materials (bricks and roof tiles) from older Roman buildings were used to make buildings in both the early and high Middle Ages. Examples include the Great Moravian basilica in Bratislava (Novotný, 1986), the Děvín church in Uherské Hradiště – Sady (Hochmannová-Vávrová, 1957), and French cathedral of Autun (Clark, 2006; Bailiff et al,. 2010). Recycling and reutilization took place at markets, where raw materials such as glass and metal were bought (Davis, 2010). Palimpsests are also evidence of reutilization. Important communications were written on parchment, which was a very expensive item that was often cleaned and reused for writing another document. Writing was scraped off parchment and washed off of papyrus. Today, X-ray technology can help us read the original documents that have since been written over (Lyons, 2011). The recycling of

133 textiles for repairing and altering clothes has been documented (Rammo, 2012 in Březinová & Selmi Wallisová, 2016). As a matter of fact, out of frugality the clothes and bedding that dead people left behind were not thrown out, not even during epidemics (Hoffmann, 2009). One interesting example of recycling, or rather reusing waste material, is its use for insulation. At Prague Castle the filled-in vaults under the floor of Vladislavský Hall, which contain waste from carpenters’ workshops as well as kitchen waste and construction debris from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, have been studied (Kosňovská, 2011; Beneš et al., 2012). This material served to insulate the space under the hall’s wooden floor. Today it is a unique witness to life at the time that has been preserved extraordinarily well, thanks to the dry environment. A large part of it is made up of plum pits and nut shells. Due to the exceptional location of this site at Prague Castle the unique remnants of what were at the time very rare imported plants can be found here; they included olives, almonds,124 peanuts (certainly the oldest documented in Central Europe), pistachios, and coffee beans. Ash was a ubiquitous waste material that could be reused to wash clothes. Ashes from herbs such as rosemary were used as toothpaste.125 When wood ash is combined with water it creates a alkali solution that can dissolve fats and thus remove the dirt that adheres to them. Wood is mostly made up of organic materials that when combusted mostly transform into gas. With an ample supply of oxygen (complete combustion) minerals are concentrated in the ash; they are thermally stable or do not transform into inade- quately volatile or completely non-volatile oxides. These materials make up the chemical foundation of ashes. Thanks to their basicity these oxides are able to bond to the carbon dioxide released during combustion, and therefore they can be found in ashes in the form of carbonates. With the most important compounds being K2CO3 (potash) and Na2CO3 (sodium carbonate). These carbonates

124Almonds, however, (if they really were from the Middle Ages) did not necessarily have to be imported. During the medieval warm period, almonds and figs may have grown in Bohemia.

125Instead of brushes, pieces of fabric were used (Hoffmann, 2009). 134 are, in terms of their chemistry, strong base salts (KOH, NaOH) and weak acid salts (H2CO3); therefore, when they react with water, hydrolysis occurs and an alkali solution is created. Historically, these compounds were extracted from wood ash in raw form and then further purified through boiling and evaporation into potash. This material, however, was not pure K2CO3 (the chemical formula used today for potash), but rather a mix, a majority of which consisted of K2CO3

(30–90 %) with residual potassium sulfate (K2SO4), potassium chloride (KCl), sodium carbonate (Na2CO3), compounds of phosphorous, iron, and silicates, and organic impurities (Woitsch, 2009). This raw material played a key role in glassmaking as well as other industries that required alkali substances. Raw wood ash acted not only as a base for making potash, but also as a useful sub- stance used in common households. In emergency situations when soap is not available the World Health Organization recommends the use of ash as a substi- tute for hand washing and disinfection. 126 We can assume that people were aware of these qualities of ash in the past and could intentionally use it for both personal hygiene and laundering clothes.127

AN EXPERIMENT WITH LAUNDERING CLOTHES

An experiment was conducted to verify the hypothesis mentioned above. The use of historically available materials and feasibility under simple outdoor conditions were stressed. Ash produced from burning a mix of beech and hornbeam wood was used as the input material. It was combusted in a well-ventilated stove; the raw ash produced contained a visually small amount of incompletely combusted residue, which was removed using a fine sieve. The sorted ash was very light in color, which indicated a high percentage of mineral compounds over incompletely combusted organic matter, which is dark in color.

126http://www.who.int/water_sanitation_health/emergencies/qa/emergencies_qa17/en/

127In the twentieth century, ash was used still used in cities to clean silverware and plates. 135

We measured out 200 grams of ash, which was mixed with 3 liters of fresh rainwater. We mixed this suspension several times and then let it rest for one hour. The resulting solution was then poured through a clean linen cloth to remove undissolved matter. The filtered solution was colorless. The approximate pH of the solution was measured using pH test paper; we recorded a pH of about 11. We used a piece of finely woven painter’s canvas cut into 10x20 cm rectan- gles, which we then smeared with an ample amount of pork lard so that the fabric was fully soaked and a large stain was created. This dirty piece of fabric was then soaked by hand in the solution while rubbing it to clean it. The washed samples of fabric were then air dried. Upon visual inspection, the hand-washed and dried fabric in no way differed from the original, unsullied cloth. The grease stain that was clearly visible on the sample before being washed had disappeared; after being washed it was impossible to tell where the stain had been and how large it was. This simple experiment confirmed the very good washing effect of a solution gained from leeching ashes. The solution, with his high alkalinity, could easily dissolve fats and thus remove dirt. Although terms such as “alkali solution” are the trappings of modern science, we can assume that in the distant past people were aware of these qualities due to their empirical experiences. When we washed by hand in the solution we could clearly feel it burning our skin, resulting in a slippery feeling on our fingers. If the skin is already clean, the upper skin layer will be removed. But for dirty skin, this solution is a relatively effective means of cleaning and disinfection.

CONCLUSION

We can hardly reconstruct the environment of medieval Europe. Then, like today, some places in Europe were more polluted than others. Behind this fact are many causes, which cannot be fully explained. In our analysis presented in this

136 paper, we have just slightly opened the door to studying waste management— we must conceptualize waste from a social, political, economic, and technical perspective. Society and waste can never be fully separated from each other; unwanted material must be viewed as part of our environment. Popular stereotypes about omnipresent trash and dirt in public spaces in the Middle Ages most likely do not fully reflect the historical reality (Magnusson, 2013). Compared to today’s world, in the Middle Ages there was likely relatively little waste.128 It is likely that, if we exclude excrement, the greatest volume of waste consisted mainly of building waste and ashes, a situation that remained unchanged for several hundred years after the Middle Ages.

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APPENDIX

Fig. 1: Fifteenth-century wood carving (Pichtel, 2005).

Fig. 2: A walled-in shaft leading from a toilet to the second courtyard at Buchlov Castle, autor: F. Havlíček (2016)

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Fig. 3: Shaft opening under the arch of a stairwell in the second courtyard (Buchlov Castle), author: F. Havlíček (2016)

Fig. 4: Original state of castle toilet (Buchlov Castle), author: F. Havlíček (2016)

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Fig. 5: Fortified toilet with an arrowslit (Buchlov Castle) author: F. Havlíček (2016)

Fig. 6: The interior of a fortified toilet (Buchlov Castle), author: F. Havlíček (2016)

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Fig. 7: A detail of a toilet (Buchlov Castle), author: F. Havlíček (2016)

Fig. 8: Detail of the toilet drainage system (Buchlov Castle), author: F. Havlíček (2016)

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Fig. 9: A dried-up castle well filled in with waste (Buchlov Castle), author: F. Havlíček (2016)

Fig. 10: Images from experiment washing clothing in ashes. Author: F. Havlíček, J. Zálešák (2016)

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