Time detective time
Here's a curiosity.
This is an image, a LiDAR image of Lodge Park. Towards the top left, you've got the Long Barrow with the much smaller Round Barrow just about 80 m from it along the Winter Solstice. And the grandstand is in that peculiar shape, most obvious shape, about halfway down. You can see on this LiDAR image the marks of the plough "ridge and furrows" that indicate that, before it was turned into a parkland in 1625, the area was under the plough for arable crops. Those various lines at various parts of the landscape are the right size, the right scale, and there's no doubt at all that they are essentially plough marks repeated year after year by the ploughman.
But take a look at closely the two geometric shapes:
- One on the top left, a hexagon.
- Towards the bottom left corner, what is pretty clear as an octagon, somewhat larger.
Now I've been working under the assumption that these were post-enclosure decorative ornamental features, probably from the 17th century, and it was pretty clear to me they pre-date Bridgeman. Bridgeman, you will recall, designed the parkland around 1730. These might date from the 1620s or somewhere between 1620 and the late 1600s.
But, but, but...!
Look really closely at this. Here's zoom in on the octagon.
Now, what I think I'm looking at there is mediaeval plough marks across the top and digging into the octagon. I can't quite make sense of that. Does that mean the Octagon is pre-mediaeval? Surely not?
I suppose the answer depends on exactly what that octagon was and its purpose. And that requires an archaeologist and a spade. Or more likely a trowel. Is it that the octagon is actually a fairly superficial thing, and so the original underlying plough marks show through, or does the octagon predate the plough marks? You tell me. I think there are similar marks on the hexagon to the north. My guess is that these were fairly superficial markings, but I'm not 100% certain. The Octagon has disappeared underneath some tree planting, so perhaps we'll never know.
