Figures

On Saturday, I took the train over to Hull to watch The Tigers draw with Aston Villa. The kick off was at teatime but I travelled earlier in the day because I wanted to visit The Hull and East Riding Museum of Archaeology in the historical port city's old town. It's just a stone's throw from another museum - Wilberforce House - the former home of William Wilberforce, the famous anti-slavery campaigner.

Anyway, in the archaeology museum, two happy hours passed by as your genial correspondent absorbed information about East Yorkshire from its earliest geological beginnings to medieval times. There were many interesting exhibits to illustrate the story including complete Roman floor mosaics from two villas that were discovered in the region. One of them was at Rudston, close to the stone monolith I wrote about very recently.

However, it was another exhibit that left me awestruck. It was inside a climate controlled glass case. Two wooden figures standing on a wooden boat stared back at me from the mists of time. They are known as the Roos Carr Figures and they were found in wetland near the village of Roos in 1836.

Some labourers were digging a drainage ditch and two metres down, totally by accident, they came across a cache of carved wooden items. Some of the items were badly degraded but a few had miraculously survived several centuries in the earth, including The Roos Carr Figures.

They were carved from yew wood and that factor undoubtedly assisted their survival. Radio-carbon dating has indicated that the figures are approximately 2650 years old, carved during a  period that is now known as The Iron Age.

It is believed that there was once a shallow lake where the figures were found and it is speculated that they were left in the mud at the side of the lake as votive offerings to some ancient deity. The figures have detachable wooden penises but at least one expert has pointed out the when the penises are removed, holes that might represent vaginas are left. Perhaps the figures are androgynous.

Although carved from yew, the figures' eye sockets contain rather unnerving quartzite eyeballs.

I stared into that glass box for a few minutes as thoughts bounced around inside my skull. I thought of those swift-minded  labourers who had the presence of mind to stop their work and report what they had found. And I thought about the nineteenth century Hull Literary and Philosophical Society that first cared for the carvings. But mostly I thought about the community from which the strange figures emerged - speaking tantalisingly to future people like me or you.

There is still so much that we do not know.