The cemetery was accessed by an entrance leading on to St. John’s Street, located outside the area of investigation (Illus. 7). It almost certainly possessed some form of physical boundaries, with evidence for a series of shallow ditches along the eastern side of the burial ground (for location see Illus 2 and 7). There was no physical evidence on the northern and southern boundaries; by a process of elimination these are likely to have been defined by fences or hedges. The major feature within the cemetery was a network of long-lived gravel paths; there were also some probable footings, a well and there is indirect evidence for a structure of some kind outside the area investigated in the form of material deposited in later features (see below).

Three gravel paths were identified (Paths A–C; Illus 7–8) forming a complete circuit running immediately inside the cemetery’s perimeter as well as bisecting it from west to east. Although these features post-dated the earliest phase of burials, they appear to have been in existence for several centuries and a sequence of up to eleven surfaces was identified (Illus. 8). This evidence reveals carefully and laboriously constructed, and subsequently well-maintained, pathways. The extreme stability of the paths is evident since their locations and alignments varying only minutely over time; the cemetery was carefully maintained over the long term. Furthermore, from the perspective of the archaeological project, the paths provided an invaluable aid in phasing the sequence of interments.

Similar paths are known from a number of medieval cemeteries, although they have often been indirectly inferred from circumstantial evidence rather than by their survival as discrete physical entities. Paths often appear to have been long-lived and spatially dominant elements, used during the burial ceremony itself and also potentially for other religious processions (Gilchrist and Sloane 200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references, 36–37).

The paths comprised ‘sunken’ linear features 1.05–1.3 m wide and cut to a depth of 0.25–0.6 m, often truncating earlier interments. Each contained a layer of distinctive orange-brown gravel 0.05–0.15 m thick laid in their base whose upper surface was situated 0.1–0.2 m below the general height of the surrounding surface area. Therefore, each metre length of path required 100–400 kg of gravel. By the thirteenth century gravel could not have been obtained in large volumes from the immediate vicinity and would have been brought in by cart from pits situated over a mile away. This effort was, in part, presumably a response to the relative looseness of the fills of earlier graves and other underlying features, which would have made creating a stable access route difficult. The paths were well-maintained and the sides of their cuts appear to have been quite stable, suggesting the presence of wooden edging. Eventually, their surfaces became worn and required replacement. New layers of gravel were introduced between six and eleven times, depending upon the path in question, underlining the degree of care and investment which was employed in their maintenance. In some instances it appears that later graves reused earlier path surfaces to effectively form a basal lining for the grave (Illus. 22).

There were two successive shallow clay-filled cut features, located towards the south-east corner of the burial ground (F.1039, 1044). These may represent footings for some form of structure, such as the base of a cross or similar sepulchral monument. In the fourteenth–fifteenth century a well (F.584) was established on the southern edge of the cemetery, cutting through numerous earlier burials. This is paralleled by wells from a number of other cemeteries, these may have ‘possessed some symbolic significance’ and been linked to ‘spiritual cleansing’, although in at least some instances they also fulfilled more prosaic functions such as supplying water for fishponds (Gilchrist and Sloane 200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references, 43–44). Whilst the well in the cemetery may have provided water for visitors it was not particularly conveniently located for this and it may well have been linked to the activities taking place nearby on the southern fringe of the burial ground (see below). The well was backfilled in the fifteenth century and its fills contained a considerable quantity of disarticulated human bone, this included twenty-three crania plus numerous vertically aligned long bones indicating rapid deposition. Some of the fills were waterlogged and three wooden items were recovered; a bowl, a peg or tool handle and a wedge. The face-turned wooden bowl, made from ash (Fraxinus excelsior L) has what appears to be a letter ‘T’ incised onto the exterior of its base with a rase knife and a drilled hole for hanging the bowl from (Illus. 9.1). Such ownership marks on bowls were often necessitated by a communal environment, such as a hospital, where individuals wished to identify their personal dining items. The carefully shaped peg or tool handle was cut from a radially faced billet of oak (Quercus spp) and has an octagonally cross-sectioned shaft, flaring out to a sub-rectangular cross-sectioned head with a slightly concave hollowed face meeting at a bevelled end (Illus. 9.2). The wedge is also made of oak and cut from box-quartered timber.

There is some evidence that there may have been a building such as a small chapel or charnel house in the cemetery. Although no direct evidence for this structure survived, some material from later features may derive from it. A late sixteenth-/early seventeenth-century pit near the north-east corner of the graveyard contained a quantity of disarticulated human bone plus some fragments of moulded stone and a piece of stucco. The stone included two Ketton stone (a limestone from Rutland) weathering or coping fragments of uncertain date; these may have been derived from the same structure as two other Ketton stone coping fragments that were reused in the footings of an eighteenth-century wall nearby, which date to c. 1300–1400 on stylistic grounds. Although the Ketton quarries are only believed to have become significant suppliers in the sixteenth century and were employed in Cambridge from the late fifteenth century (Purcell 196791. Purcell, D. 1967. Cambridge Stone, London: Faber

View all references, 48–53), there is documentary evidence that they were in use by the thirteenth century and a growing body of evidence for the use of Ketton stone in fourteenth-century Cambridge (Cessford and Dickens in prep34. Cessford, C. and Dickens, A. in prep. From King’s Ditch to Department Store: investigations of an 11th–20th Century Suburb and the Town Ditch of Cambridge

View all references.). It also appears that Ketton stone was employed specifically for coping stones because of its intense hardness (Samuel 1989100. Samuel, M. 1989. The fifteenth-century garner at Leadenhall, London, Antiq. J., 69, 119–53
[CrossRef]
View all references, 142). The stucco fragment, which is quite delicate and cannot have travelled far, has two partial faces that depict windows with a partial ogee arch and cusp and dagger tracery of reticulated style, which can broadly be characterized as depicting late thirteenth–/mid-fourteenth-century Decorated style architecture (Illus. 10.1). Traces of pale lilac paint survive on each face, although this may have become discoloured over time. Another pit of broadly the same date on the northern fringe of the cemetery contained a variety of building debris, all of which appears to represent material discarded when more useful fragments were selected for reuse. Moulded stone included three small clunch fragments that are probably from a tomb chest of c. 1300–1400 (Illus. 10.2) and a fragment of a Barnack bowtell (a round or corniced moulding below the abacus in a Tuscan or Roman Doric capital). There were also some relatively ornate moulded decorative bricks with traces of whitewash that show signs of having been forcefully removed from a structure (Illus. 10.3). Although too small for certainty, these probably derive from a late medieval window or chimney and were designed to create the visual impression of tracery. There were also several green-glazed floor bricks, plus over eighty Collyweston stone tiles.

Although there was no evidence for contemporary rubbish pits within the cemetery, the presence of pottery that must be contemporary with the usage of the burial ground within grave fills and other deposits associated with the graveyard suggests some level of refuse disposal (Table 2). There are also some fragments of glazed red earthenware and fineware from Ely, which only began to be produced in the early sixteenth century (Cessford et al. 200631. Cessford, C. with Alexander, M. and Dickens, A. 2006. Between Broad Street and the Great Ouse: Waterfront Archaeology in Ely, East Anglian Archaeol., 114, Cambridge: Cambridge Archaeological Unit

View all references, 46–71), indicating that burial continued until close to the end of the Hospital in 1511. In general only small quantities of material were recovered from individual graves. There is no definite evidence that any of the pottery was actually used in the cemetery — although strainers are rather more common than in domestic assemblages of the period from Cambridge (Cessford and Dickens in prep34. Cessford, C. and Dickens, A. in prep. From King’s Ditch to Department Store: investigations of an 11th–20th Century Suburb and the Town Ditch of Cambridge

View all references) — and it appears likely the pottery derives from the surface dumping of material, potentially derived from middens elsewhere.

Some of these features, particularly the well but also the paths and in certain respects the pottery that is contemporary with the cemetery, emphasize that a medieval urban burial ground was a space for the living as well as the dead (Gilchrist and Sloane 200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references, 43–46). This is also true of the features on the cemetery fringe and to some of the evidence relating to the environment of the burial ground (see below).

Immediately to both the north and south of the cemetery were rows of substantial timber-lined pits, seemingly created gradually over time. These features were contemporary with the burial-ground’s usage. It is uncertain if these pits represent activity undertaken on the edge of the graveyard under the auspices of the Hospital, or whether they were instead located on the edge of adjacent tenements. As there is no evidence for a boundary between these rows of pits and the burials — particularly on the northern side, where preservation was excellent — and as some of their fills contained significant quantities of human bone, it appears most likely that they formed part of the overall cemetery complex and fulfilled some light industrial purpose(s). There is evidence from other sites for rubbish disposal and industrial activity occurring on the fringes of burial grounds, interpreted as indicating either a lack of clear boundaries or temporary encroachment on un-utilized areas rather than a true dual function (Gilchrist and Sloane 200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references, 45–46). In this instance the evidence suggests something rather more structured and organized.

To the north of the burial ground proper there were two large pits; the earlier was created prior to the burial ground’s establishment, but continued in use. This pit was sub-rectangular in form, measuring 2.3 m by 2.0 m in extent and 2.3 m deep (F.391). An oval pit replaced the first one, measuring 6.2 m by 2.8 m in extent and 0.4 m deep, with a deeper sub-square shaft at its western end 1.6 m by 1.5 m in extent and 2.1 m deeper than the main pit (F.356). The digging of this latter pit appears to have disturbed six or seven graves. An additional smaller west-east aligned pit, resembling a grave and 1.7 m by 0.45 m in extent and 1.0 m deep, was dug to hold the charnel remains from these graves (F.346). The human remains appear to have been placed within this pit in a wooden box; at the base were four crania forming a square, over this were two layers of six and five femora respectively, with shorter limb bones over these (MNI 6).

To the south of the cemetery there were four regularly arranged vertically sided flat bottomed pits, 1.95–2.2 m by 1.7–2.1 m in extent and originally 1.6–1.8 m deep, all dating to the fourteenth century (F.415/436, 417, 420, 435). The pits were carefully created and probably timber-lined. They must have fulfilled some form of specialized light industrial function, although as they did not cut entirely through the natural gravel they would not have held water. As the pits are inter-cutting they must have been utilized sequentially, although the overall order is impossible to determine as all four pits cannot be placed in a single stratigraphic sequence. Three of the pits contained relatively carefully arranged human bone in their bases (MNI 3, 7 and 16 based upon crania). During construction works in 1877–79 a local antiquarian, Professor Thomas McKenny Hughes, observed the upper portions of these or similar pits, which he interpreted as a ‘deep ditch … where first seen [this feature] was full of human bones, but as these were all scattered and fragmentary it is probable that they were only the bones dug up in making new graves in that overcrowded ground which were disposed of by throwing them into the deep ditch that bounded the churchyard on the north side’ (Hughes 189868. Hughes, T. Mck. 1898. Further observations on the ditches round Cambridge with special reference to the adjoining ground, Proc. Cambridge Antiq. Soc., 9, 370–84

View all references, 378). This discovery of human remains has led to a considerable amount of popular speculation, principally linking them to the Black Death, which has become increasingly lurid over time (Williamson 1957118. Williamson, R. 1957. The plague in Cambridge, Medical Hist., 1, 51–64
[CrossRef], [PubMed]
View all references, 51; Evans 201048. Evans, G. R. 2010. The University of Cambridge: A New History, I. B. Tauris, London

View all references, 97; Gummer 201058. Gummer, B. 2010. The Scourging Angel. The Black Death in the British Isles, London, Vintage Books

View all references, 188–89).

After the fourth pit (F.435) went out of use, its bottom 0.2 m was backfilled with a deposit containing disarticulated human remains (MNI 1, no crania present). Four bodies were then deposited in the pit: a west-east aligned (all alignments give the head end first) prone probably female old adult (F.458), an east-west aligned supine mature adult male overlying it (F.457), an 11–12 year-old who was aligned south-north with their legs flexed and body prone (F.459) and an east-west aligned prone body with flexed legs of 6–9 year old (F.460) (Illus. 11). The male and probable female both had lesions on their lower spine characteristic of incipient arthritis. The probable female also had a compression fracture commonly associated with spondylolosis in the fifth lumbar vertebra. The four bodies were hurriedly disposed of and appear to have been simply ‘tipped’ into the pit. Whilst the four bodies may be unrelated individuals who died at the same time they could conceivably have comprised a familial group; possibly a father and two children plus mother or grandmother. The rest of the pit was then backfilled with material that contained significant quantities of disarticulated human bone (MNI 2, based upon crania). Radiocarbon dating of one of the skeletons indicated a date in the mid-thirteenth to late fourteenth century (Table 14). Such coterminous group burials, as opposed to larger mass burial pits or double burials, are relatively rare. The closest parallel is a group at St. Mary Merton, Surrey, dated c. 1300–90, where a carefully dug rectilinear grave, 1.75 m by 1.1 m in extent, contained three individuals all aligned west-east (Gilchrist and Sloane 200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references, 157; Saxby and Miller 2007101. Saxby, D. and Miller, P. (eds), 2007. The Augustinian Priory of St. Mary Merton, Surrey. Excavations 1976–1990, MoLAS Monogr. 34, London: Museum of London Archaeology

View all references, 84, 97, 151). The first burial was an older adult male in a prone position, the next a child aged 7–12 who had been placed in a flexed position on their side and the final interment comprised an older adult male laid in a supine, spread-eagled position partly overlying the earliest burial. Their positioning indicates that these individuals ‘were casually disposed of, possibly thrown in’ and it has been suggested that they may represent ‘victims of a local episode of infectious disease or an accident’ (Saxby and Miller 2007101. Saxby, D. and Miller, P. (eds), 2007. The Augustinian Priory of St. Mary Merton, Surrey. Excavations 1976–1990, MoLAS Monogr. 34, London: Museum of London Archaeology

View all references, 84, 97). Other examples of multiple burials of two to seven bodies arranged in horizontal groups were also present at St. Mary Spital (Connell et al. 201240. Connell, B., Jones, A. G., Redfern, R. and Walker, D. 2012. A Bioarchaeological Study of Medieval Burials on the Site of St. Mary Spital: Excavations at Spitalfields Market, London E1, 1991–2007, MoLA Monogr. 60, London, Museum of London Archaeology

View all references, 13), although as these have not been published in detail it is impossible to determine how comparable they are.

The care taken in digging the pit contrasts strongly with the hurried manner in which the bodies were disposed of. It also appears that the process of backfilling the pit had commenced prior to the deposition of the bodies. It thus seems likely that one of a series of light industrial pits on the edge of the burial ground had gone out of use and was in the process of being backfilled when some form of incident occurred that led to four deaths. Something about the nature of these deaths meant that it was imperative to dispose of the bodies rapidly and the location of the pit on the cemetery fringe rendered it in some sense appropriate.

by Rachel Ballantyne and David Smith

The fifteenth-century waterlogged fills of the well (F.584) on the southern edge of the burial ground were sampled for plant and insect remains, shedding light on the environment of the burial ground. The insect and plant remains demonstrate that the area in and around the cemetery included open, nutrient-enriched land with occasional shrubs that can be characterized as waste or rough ground/grassland. This may have been significant in terms of colour (see below) and also symbolically in the sense of cemeteries as green spaces (Gilchrist and Sloane 200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references, 44). There is also evidence for insects associated with the decaying corpses of the graveyard, some settlement waste plus cess and dietary evidence that may relate to the inhabitants of the Hospital.

All taxonomic nomenclature follows Lucht (198775. Lucht, W. H. 1987. Die Käfer Mitteleuropas, Krefeld: Goecke and Evers

View all references) for beetles and Stace (2010105. Stace, C. 2010. New Flora of the British Isles, 3rd edition, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press

View all references) for plants. Waterlogged wild plant seeds, probably from local vegetation, include nettle-leaved goosefoot (Chenopodium murale), chickweed (Stellaria media), violet (Viola sp.), cow parsley (Anthriscus sylvestris), fool’s parsley (Aethusa cynapium), black nightshade (Solanum nigrum), dead-nettle (Lamium album/purpureum) and honeysuckle (Lonicera sp.). The surrounding area would appear to have been largely open, nutrient-enriched land with occasional shrubs. The insect fauna is dominated by a range of plant feeding beetle species, normally associated with waste ground and to a lesser extent grassland. There is considerable evidence that a stand of common nettle (Urtica dioica) occurred in the immediate vicinity. This is shown by forty-five individuals of the weevil Cidnorhynus quadrimaculatus recovered who, along with several individuals of Brachypterus urticae, Ceutorhynchus pollinarius and Apion urticarium, are highly associated with this plant. There is also evidence for poppies (Papaver rhoeas and Papaver spp.), with twenty individuals of the weevil Ceutorhynchus contractus which, along with small numbers of Stenocarus ruficornis, are normally associated with this plant. Other plant species from waste ground that are also indicated include vetches (Vicia spp., the host plant of Apion pomonae and Sitona suturalis), common mallow (Malva sylvestris, host plant of Apion aeneum), bird’s foot trefoil (Lotus pedunculatus or L. corniculatus, host plant of Sitona waterhousei), shepherd’s purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris, host plant of Ceutorhynchus erysimi) and ribwort plantain (Plantago lanceolata, host plant of Mecinus pyraster). The presence of rough ground is suggested by a number of ground beetles, such as Nebria brevicollis, Loricera pilicornis, Harpalus aeneus, H. rubripes, Amara plebeja and A. familiaris. A relatively small number of the ‘dung beetles’ Aphodius prodromus and A. granarius were also recovered, perhaps indicating some meadowland or pasture in the area. These two species are often associated with cattle dung lying in open ground, but also appear to be common inhabitants of settlement in the archaeological record. Another find that sheds some light on the cemetery environment is a frog, which apparently hopped onto a body in an open grave and was buried along with the deceased.

Several beetle species recovered are associated with decaying animal bone or the burial environment. Omosita discoidea (four) and O. colon (one) are typically found on the dried bone and hair of carrion (Harde 198461. Harde, K. W. 1984. A Field Guide in Colour to Beetles, London: Octopus

View all references). Rhizophagus parallelocollis (ten), better known as ‘the graveyard beetle’, is commonly found in and around burials and buried corpses at some depth below ground (Peacock 197788. Peacock, E. R. 1977. Coleoptera Rhizophagidae. Handbooks for the identification of British Insects. Vol. 5 Part 5a, London: Royal Entomological Society of London

View all references). These species probably owe their origin to the presence of the adjacent burial ground or possibly came in with the human bone that was deposited into the well. These species are not a common part of the insect fauna associated with urban material. In the nine samples analyzed from the Grand Arcade and Christ’s Lane sites in Cambridge there were no Rhizophagus parallelocollis or Omosita discoidea and only one Omosita colon (Cessford 200728. Cessford, C. 2007. Grand Arcade, Cambridge: An Archaeological Excavation. Cambridge Archaeological Unit, Rep., No. 800

View all references). They do occur in small numbers in deposits such as food waste and, perhaps more commonly, in the waste left over from butchery, bone working and tanning. In this case the numbers are indicative of the presence of the cemetery.

The waterlogged plant remains also provide some evidence for diet. Numerous corncockle seed-coat fragments (Agrostemma githago) are almost certainly from human faeces. These poisonous, grain-sized seeds were difficult to remove before flour milling and so their fragmentary remains probably represent ingested bread or other flour products. Other possible foods include hemp seed (Humulus lupulus), blackberry (Rubus subgen. Rubus) and plum/cherry (Prunus sp.). The many elder seeds (Sambucus nigra) are hard to interpret since these may represent either faeces or nearby shrubs as this plant thrives on the margins of settlements. Charred remains of wheat, barley and oats indicate likely oven ash deposits, along with probable arable weed seeds (buttercups, orache, corncockle, knapweed, stinking chamomile and darnel), plus great fen sedge and true sedges.

A small component of the insect fauna might be derived from settlement waste and rubbish, although members of this group also can be found widely in the ‘natural’ environment around archaeological sites in small numbers. For example, the cryptophagids, lathridiids and the ‘woodworm’ Anobium punctatum are components of ‘house fauna’ (Kenward and Hall 199570. Kenward, H. K. and Hall, A. R. 1995. Biological Evidence from Anglo-Scandinavian Deposits at 16–22 Coppergate, Archaeol. York 14/7, York: York Archaeological Trust

View all references). Similarly, Cercyon analis, Omalium excavatum, O. rivulare, and the various Oxytelus species are all associated with settlement waste in the past. A single puparia of the small fly Thoracochaeta zosterae, which is particularly associated with cess pits, was found. There is no evidence that cess pits were present within the cemetery, which may indicate that some of the insect remains were re-deposited, either from contemporary features elsewhere or from earlier features on the site that pre-date the burial ground.

The burials in the cemetery were arranged in rows (Illus. 12) and although stratigraphic sequences of up to eight or nine burials were identified it appears that there were six ‘cemetery generations’, defined as ‘the period of time taken to fill the space available before burying over it again’ (Heighway and Bryant 199962. Heighway, C. M. and Bryant, R. 1999. The Golden Minster: the Anglo-Saxon Minster and Later Medieval Priory of St. Oswald at Gloucester, Counc. British Archaeol. Res. Rep., 117, York: Council for British Archaeology

View all references, 195). Various lines of evidence — principally the density of burials in the investigated areas, the likely extent of the burial ground and an allowance for other factors — indicate that c. 1000–1500 individuals were interred, with c. 1350 the most likely number. These values exclude burials that may have taken place in and around the Hospital chapel, which probably numbered in the low hundreds. Based upon these values an average of 3.2–4.8 burials took place per year, broadly comparable to the four burials per year that were interred between 1235–80 at St. Mary Spital, London (Thomas et al. 1997108. Thomas, C., Sloane, B. and Phillpotts, C. 1997. Excavations at the Priory and Hospital of St. Mary Spital, London, MoLAS Monogr., 1, London, Museum of London Archaeological Service

View all references, 117). This would broadly equate to a burial every 2.5–3.75 months.

It is, however, unlikely that the rate of burial was uniform throughout the existence of the Hospital. Documentary evidence (see above) suggests that the rate of burial is likely to have been higher during the period c. 1200–1300/1350, declining after that point as the role of the Hospital changed and there was a growing preference for burial in parish churchyards. Although burial certainly continued until the late fifteenth century, as confirmed by ceramic evidence (see above), the radiocarbon dating supports the hypothesis that two thirds of the burials predate c. 1350 (see below). At a rough estimate burials may have occurred at the rate of 4–8 per year between c. 1200–1350 and 1–3 per year between c. 1350–1511.

As far as can be ascertained, burial followed a spatial progression in a series of rows, with stratigraphic indications that the interments in any given row commenced to the south and ran northwards and that the rows began on the western side of the burial ground and ran eastwards. Whilst this is based upon relatively limited evidence, the pattern does appear to be consistent. There is no evidence for any spatial patterning of burial by age, sex or other factors, which supports the idea that burial occurred in strict linear progression.

The identifiable grave cuts were rectangular in form with rounded corners; the majority were broadly aligned west-east (most are in fact closer to west-north-west by east-south-east) and measured 1.75–2.1 m long by 0.4–0.7 m wide and 0.4–0.6 m deep. Although a few graves appear to have been dug specifically for particular individuals — for instance, a c. 1.05 m tall child was found in a particularly short 1.15 m long grave (F.377) — the majority appear to have been dug to a relatively standard size; so that a c. 1.25 m tall older child/young immature individual lay within a 2.1 m long grave (F.354). This suggests that some, but not all, graves may have been dug in advance of being needed. One possibility is that this occurred prior to the winter, when ground conditions would have potentially made digging graves considerably more difficult. The pattern of surviving skeletal remains and grave cuts demonstrates that the majority of individuals (>70%) were definitely not interred in coffins and there is no positive evidence for the presence of any coffins at the site. Similarly, there was no definite evidence for the use of shrouds, although the pattern of skeletal remains makes it likely that some, but not all, bodies were enshrouded. In general the bodies were placed in an extended west-east aligned supine position without grave-goods.

The phasing of medieval cemeteries is often problematic, primarily because of a combination of stratigraphic complexity and the fact that burials typically represent a continuum of individual events rather that discrete phases of activity (for relevant discussions see Kjølbye-Biddle 197572. Kjølbye-Biddle, B. 1975. A cathedral cemetery: problems in excavation and interpretation, World Archaeol., 7, 87–108
[Taylor & Francis Online], [Web of Science ®]
View all references; Boddington 198718. Boddington, A. 1987. Raunds, Northamptonshire: analysis of a country churchyard, World Archaeol., 18, 411–25
[Taylor & Francis Online], [Web of Science ®]
View all references; 199619. Boddington, A. 1996. Raunds Furnells: the Anglo-Saxon Church and Churchyard, English Heritage Archaeol. Rep. 7, London: English Heritage

View all references; Gilchrist and Sloane 200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references, 12). Taking into account all the available evidence, the burials have been divided into three phases (Early, Mid and Late), each corresponding to two cemetery generations. A more precise phasing system based on single cemetery generations was not adopted, as too few burials could be categorically assigned to single generations to make it useful. Of 395 individuals from the cemetery, 227 (57.3%) can be assigned to one of these phases, 141 (35.9%) can be assigned to some mixture of two of the three phases and 27 (1.7%) cannot be meaningfully phased. One side effect of the meticulous excavation is that highly truncated skeletons, where relatively few bones remained in articulation, were recognized as burials. Whilst it is impossible to be certain, experience on other sites subject to more hurried investigation under less favourable circumstances suggests that c. 25% of the most truncated skeletons recovered from the cemetery might have been missed under such conditions. The recovery of a higher proportion of heavily truncated skeletons does, however, mean that a concomitantly lower proportion of skeletons can be accurately sexed or aged by osteological methods.

The impression from the archaeology is of a regimented impersonal burial process, wherein an individual was interred in a pre-dug grave following a standardized rite. There are, however, a few atypical exceptions; including east-west aligned burials, south-north aligned burials, a double burial, a prone burial and individuals buried with grave-goods. If one excludes the burials with grave-goods, but includes the coterminous group in a pit, the atypical burials are all located towards the edges of the burial ground. Four burials of mixed date were aligned east-west rather than the usual west-east: these comprised a female (F.1021) and a probable female (F.1040), a double burial of two mature adults (F.503) and an adult of unknown sex (F.1038). Such east-west or ‘reversed’ burials are not convincingly linked to priests in the late medieval period contrary to popular supposition and it is unclear what the phenomenon represents (Gilchrist and Sloane 200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references, 153). All four east-west burials were situated on the eastern side of the burial ground, immediately adjacent to the burial ground boundary. The position of the skeletal remains suggests that the individuals were not shrouded. Although there does appear to be a spatial element to this phenomenon, the majority of burials on the eastern side of the cemetery were on the normal west-east alignment.

Two successive burials, probably dating to the fourteenth century, of an adult of unknown sex (F.397) and a probably male adult (F.393), were aligned south-north and appear to have ‘blocked’ a west-east aligned path (Illus. 13.1). Due to nineteenth-century truncation it is unknown what lay to the west of these burials, but if the burial ground possessed a chapel or charnel house it may have been located here. There was a single thirteenth-/fourteenth-century prone burial of a mature adult male (F.958) (Illus 2 and 13.2); such interments may be deviant or penitential burials or alternatively they indicate casual or hurried burial (Gilchrist and Sloane 200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references, 154). As this individual was placed in a particularly deep grave cut (>0.84m), it is conceivable that the body was not deliberately placed in a prone position, especially if it was shrouded. There was one thirteenth-century double burial, with a mature adult male (F.1148) and an immature individual (F.1147) interred within the same grave (Illus. 13.3). Such coterminous double burials are quite common in many cemeteries; however, they typically consist of an adult usually female and a child, and are assumed to be mother and child, or of two children (Gilchrist and Sloane 200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references, 155–57). This is not the case in this instance, making this a moderately unusual burial.

Evidence for clothing and grave-goods is rarer than at most hospital cemeteries (Gilchrist and Sloane 200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references, 80–106), principally because this was a purely lay graveyard with no clerics present. Several items that were found in graves might represent grave-goods, but their positions were ambiguous and it is equally possible that they represent incidental inclusions of either residual material from earlier activity at the site or contemporary refuse, both of which are clearly represented in the ceramic assemblage from the cemetery (Table 2). Ambiguous items include a copper-alloy buckle, a lead weight or spindle whorl, a Roman coin, a fifteenth-century jetton, a naturally perforated stone and several knives. Some of these items such as spindle whorls occur as definite grave-goods at other contemporary cemeteries (Gilchrist and Sloane 200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references, 102–03), but in the absence of supporting evidence remain questionable. The only definite grave-goods were a copper-alloy brooch and a jet crucifix, whilst the status of a copper-alloy cruciform pendant is less clear.

The copper-alloy brooch was located on the upper right torso area of an adult female aged 27–35, with the point of the pin pointing upwards and outwards (F.256) (Illus. 14.1). This must, however, be treated with caution given the potential for collapse occurring in the torso of a decomposing skeleton. Due to later truncation it is possible that there was originally a matching brooch on the left hand side. This burial probably dates to the fifteenth century and the brooch has a 25 mm diameter open annular frame decorated with a series of quite widely spaced transverse indentations and a 26 mm long separate pin, attached to a constriction at one point in the frame. Such brooches are often difficult to distinguish from annular buckles; they originate in the twelfth century and are common throughout the thirteenth–fifteenth centuries (Biddle and Hinton 199017. Biddle, M. and Hinton, D. A. 1990. Annular and other brooches, in Biddle 1990, 639–43

View all references; Egan and Pritchard 200245. Egan, G. and Pritchard, F. 2002. Dress Accessories c. 1150–c. 1450. Medieval Finds from Excavations in London 3, 2nd edition, Woodbridge: Boydell and Brewer

View all references, 248–55). Decorated brooches are relatively rare from burials. There is one clear example from St. Oswald Gloucester dated 1086–1540 (Heighway and Bryant 199962. Heighway, C. M. and Bryant, R. 1999. The Golden Minster: the Anglo-Saxon Minster and Later Medieval Priory of St. Oswald at Gloucester, Counc. British Archaeol. Res. Rep., 117, York: Council for British Archaeology

View all references, 134 and fig. 3.13), but in most cases it is difficult to determine if the items are brooches or buckles. The majority of examples from Smithfield, London, were found in pairs in the pelvic region and are therefore not comparable (Grainger et al. 200855. Grainger, I., Hawkins, D., Cowal, L. and Mikulski, R. 2008. The Black Death Cemetery, East Smithfield, London, MoLA Monogr., 43, London: Museum of London Archaeology

View all references, 20–21, 37–40).

A copper-alloy cruciform pendant was found in association with a carefully arranged charnel bundle deposited during the thirteenth–fourteenth centuries (Illus. 14.2). The position of the pendant, combined with the fact that the form of the charnel bundle indicates it was wrapped in textiles, suggests that the pendant was associated with some form of cord used to secure this wrapping. The pendant is 31 mm high and 21 mm across, with expanded terminals decorated with three incised lines and a forward facing suspension loop and it is in fact a piece of horse harness. The pendant would have been attached by a pin — usually made of iron — to a copper-alloy mount, which would in turn have been attached to a leather strap (Griffiths 198656. Griffiths, N. 1986. Horse Harness Pendants, Datasheet, 5, London: The Finds Research Group AD 700–1700

View all references; 199557. Griffiths, N. 1995. Harness pendants and associated fittings, in J. Clark (ed.), The Medieval Horse and its Equipment, c. 1150 – c. 1450, Medieval Finds from Excavations in London, 5, London: HMSO

View all references). It is probable that this pendant had become detached from its mount and was reused in a funerary context because of its cruciform shape. It has been suggested that some such pendants were used as personal jewellery and that the use of cruciform horse harness pendants may be linked to clerics or could reflect private devotion (Griffiths 199557. Griffiths, N. 1995. Harness pendants and associated fittings, in J. Clark (ed.), The Medieval Horse and its Equipment, c. 1150 – c. 1450, Medieval Finds from Excavations in London, 5, London: HMSO

View all references, 83, 89). In this instance it appears that its form plus its small loop rendered it appropriate for reuse securing a charnel bundle.

A crucifix pendant made from Whitby jet (Kenward 201371. Kenward, K. 2013. St. John’s Divinity School (JDS 10) Identification and Provenance of Crucifix [2146] <211>, York Archaeol. Trust Conservation Rep. No. 2013/38

View all references) was found in association with a mature adult male, who was probably interred in the fifteenth century (F.241) (Illus. 14.3). The crucifix is slightly damaged and its base is broken — although as the depiction of the body is complete it is likely that no more than 1–2 mm has been removed — and there is slight damage behind the right hand of Christ. The pendant is 31 mm high by 26 mm across and is a standard, four-pointed Latin crucifix, with an upright post (stipes) and a single slightly flaring crosspiece. It has a plain back and was suspended from a small hole drilled through the upper arm of the cross. Christ is depicted wearing a simple loincloth (perizoma) and with his legs crossed. The crucifix shows signs of wear and polish, indicating long-term use, and was almost certainly a treasured possession. This breakage was apparently relatively fresh when the crucifix was deposited, suggesting that this damage may be why it was disposed of. Objects made from jet, including pendants, are occasionally found in late medieval burials, and it is possible that the material was believed to possess occult natural power (Gilchrist 200853. Gilchrist, R. 2008. Magic for the dead? The archaeology of magic in later medieval burials, Medieval Archaeol., 52, 119–59
[CrossRef], [Web of Science ®]
View all references, 139–40). The manufacture of jet crucifixes was a development from the manufacture of jet cross pendants at Whitby Abbey in the late twelfth century (Pierce 201389. Pierce, E. 2013. Jet cross pendants from the British Isles and beyond: forms, distribution and use, Medieval Archaeol. 57, 198–211
[CrossRef]
View all references), with crucifixes dating to between the mid–late thirteenth and fifteenth centuries (Cherry 2013a37. Cherry, J. 2013a. The jet crucifix, in M. R. McCarthy, Excavations at Carlisle Cathedral in 1988: Roman, Medieval and Post-Medieval Data, 87–91, York: Archaeology Data Service. doi:10.5284/1019911
[CrossRef]
View all references and b38. Cherry, J. 2013b. Jet crucifix, in K. Kolls and W. Mitchell, A Cycle of Recession and Recovery AD 1200–1900: Archaeological Investigations at Much Park Street, Coventry 2007 to 2010, 77–78, Oxford: Brit. Archaeol. Rep. Brit. Ser., 582

View all references; Coppack 198441. Coppack, G. 1984. Two jet crucifixes from North Lincolnshire: their use, date and significance, in N. Field and A. White (eds), A Prospect of Lincolnshire: Being Collected Articles on the History and Traditions of Lincolnshire in Honour of Ethel H. Rudkin, 61–63, Lincoln, Privately Printed

View all references; Hinton 199065. Hinton, D. A. 1990. Pendants, in Biddle 1990, 643–46

View all references, 644–46, no. 2046). The only other examples associated with burials are a poorly dated discovery from Old Malton, Yorkshire (Hodgson 190267. Hodgson, J. F. 1902. On low side windows, Arch. Aeliana, Second Ser., 23, 43–200

View all references, 115) and one found against the third to fourth cervical vertebrae of a mid-fourteenth to mid-fifteenth-century burial at Cathedral Green, Winchester (Hinton 199065. Hinton, D. A. 1990. Pendants, in Biddle 1990, 643–46

View all references, 644–46, no. 2046).

Many of the burials were disturbed before the burial ground went out of use. A range of factors led to disturbance, including the insertion of later burials, paths (for examples see Illus. 8) and other features. There was no discernible reluctance to disturb earlier remains Despite this the graveyard appears to have been kept relatively free of loose charnel, as the only human bones found in general deposits associated with the cemetery were relatively small and not immediately recognisable as human to the non-specialist.

In at least one instance this disturbance took place when the corpse was only partially decomposed. Located beside the feet of a later burial (F.370), which had presumably disturbed it, lay a prone east-west aligned articulated cranium, mandible and eight uppermost vertebrae derived from a probably female mature adult. Although estimating the timespan of this is problematic (Bent et al. 200414. Bent, D. D., Forbes, S. L. and Stuart, B. H. 2004. Review of human decomposition processes in soil, Environmental Geol., 45, 576–85
[CrossRef], [Web of Science ®]
View all references; Mann et al. 198978. Mann, R.W., Bass, W.M. and Meadows L. 1989. Time since death and decomposition of the human body: variables and observations in case and experimental field studies, J. Forensic Sci., 35, 103–11
[Web of Science ®]
View all references), it is likely that disturbance occurred within c. 10–50 years of the original burial. This raises the issue of whether some of the more heavily truncated skeletons, which have been interpreted as the remnants of in situ burials, are actually semi-articulated charnel that was placed in such a way that mirrored burial practice. Certainly, disarticulated long bones were often laid along the long axis of a burial cut, this effectively being the most practical option. In most instances, however, the earlier burials had completely decomposed prior to disturbance. Many of the disturbed bones were placed around or over the recently deceased individual (Illus. 15). A wide range of placements and arrangements were apparent, with no discernible overall patterning. In some cases the bones were neatly stacked, whilst in others were probably wrapped in textiles. Some bones were also re-interred in pits that had been dug for other purposes. However, there are clear cases where pits were specifically dug to dispose of disturbed human remains, although the latter scenario appears to have been rare. Yet even when all these modes of re-deposition are taken into account they are insufficient to account for the quantity of bone that must have been disturbed, suggesting that the cemetery may also have possessed a charnel house.

Because of the degree of truncation and inter-cutting, the skeletons ranged from complete or near-complete bodies to those which were represented only by a limb or an articulated extremity. In crude terms, the post-excavation assessment demonstrated that over half (59%) of the articulated individuals consisted of less than 25% of the skeleton (Illus. 16). However, a more detailed breakdown indicated that just over 70% of the skeletons analyzed (no. =286) had (partial) skulls and/or innominate bones, the elements most useful for ageing and sexing (no. = ninety-seven, 24%, had a skull/partial skull, no. = 114, 28.2 %, had innominate bones and a further seventy-five, 18.5%, had both skull and innominate) (Illus. 17). Whilst there is some post-mortem breakage, which prevented certain metrical data being collected, the surviving elements were in excellent condition, with most joint surfaces surviving intact and very little abrasion/erosion of the cortical bone (grade 0–1 as described by Brickley and McKinley 200420. Brickley, M. and Mckinley, J. I. (eds) 2004. Guidelines to the Standards for Recording Human Remains, IfA Paper, 7, Reading: Institute for Archaeologists

View all references, fig. 6). Small green stains on the cortical bone, indicative of contact in the ground with copper alloy, were recorded on five individuals (F.506, 510, 703, 721, 868) perhaps suggesting the presence of small shroud pins, although no such artefacts were recovered from these grave fills.

For comparative populations the two most useful types of site are other broadly contemporary infirmary hospital cemeteries, usefully collated by Gilchrist and Sloane (200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references) and supplemented by St Mary Spital, London (Connell et al. 201240. Connell, B., Jones, A. G., Redfern, R. and Walker, D. 2012. A Bioarchaeological Study of Medieval Burials on the Site of St. Mary Spital: Excavations at Spitalfields Market, London E1, 1991–2007, MoLA Monogr. 60, London, Museum of London Archaeology

View all references) and broadly contemporary local parish cemeteries. Unfortunately, most recent developer-funded investigations of medieval burial sites in Cambridgeshire have been of such a restricted scale that the population samples are too small to provide meaningful comparators or have not yet been published. Osteoarchaeological data from the larger excavations of parish churchyards at All Saints by the Castle (Alexander et al. 19722. Alexander, J. A., Browne, D. and Spratling, M. 1972. Excavation at Comet Place/St John’s Place. Unpubl. Rep, Cambridgeshire County Records Office

View all references) and Church End, Cherry Hinton (McDonald and Doel 200082. Mcdonald, T., and Doel, P. 2000. Land at 69 to 115 Church End, Cherry Hinton, Cambs: Interim Report, Hertfordshire Archaeological Trust Rep. No. 722

View all references; Ferrante de Ruffano and Waldron 200650. Ferrante Di Ruffano, L. and Waldron, T. 2006. The Skeletal Analysis of an Anglo-Saxon Population from Cherry Hinton, Cambridgeshire, Unpubl. Rep., Cambridgeshire Historic Environment Record

View all references) remain unpublished and unavailable. Very few substantial medieval populations from parish cemeteries have been published locally; Ormesbury St Margaret (Anderson 20093. Anderson, S. 2009. The human skeletal remains, in H. A. Wallis. A Medieval Cemetery at Mill Lane, Ormesbury, St Margaret, Norfolk, 11–27, East Anglian Archaeol. 130, Gressenhall: Norfolk Archaeological Unit

View all references) and Crowland Road, Haverhill (Waldron 2005114. Waldron, T. 2005. The human remains, in J. Murray. Excavation of a medieval cemetery at Crowland Road, Haverhill, 26–39, Proc. Suffolk Inst. Archaeol., 41, 5–42

View all references) have been used, as well as general summaries of the British late medieval evidence (Roberts and Cox 200395. Roberts, C. and Cox, M. 2003. Health and Disease in Britain from Prehistory to the Present Day, Stroud: Sutton

View all references).

All sediment from basal grave fills in immediate proximity to the skeletons was sieved through a 4 mm mesh to aid recovery (Mays et al. 201281. Mays, S., Vincent, S. and Campbell, G. 2012. The value of sieving of grave soil in the recovery of human remains: an experimental study of poorly preserved archaeological inhumations, J. Archaeol. Sci., 39, 3248–54
[CrossRef], [Web of Science ®]
View all references). Immature remains were aged where possible by the stage of epiphyseal fusion and metrical data (Schaefer et al. 2009102. Schaefer, M., Black, S. and Scheuer, L. 2009. Juvenile Osteology: A Laboratory and Field Manual, London: Academic Press

View all references), the stage of dental development (Brown 198523. Brown, W. A. B. 1985. Identification of Human Teeth, Dorking, Adlard and Son

View all references) and dental eruption (Ubelaker 1989110. Ubelaker, D. H. 1989. Human Skeletal Remains, 2nd edition, Washington: Taraxacum Press

View all references). With the adult skeletons, age was assessed by the stage of epiphyseal fusion (Schaefer et al. 2009102. Schaefer, M., Black, S. and Scheuer, L. 2009. Juvenile Osteology: A Laboratory and Field Manual, London: Academic Press

View all references), by examining changes in the appearance of areas of the pelvis (Lovejoy et al. 198574. Lovejoy, C., Meindl R., Pryzbeck, T. and Mensforth, R. 1985. Chronological metamorphosis of the auricular surface of the ilium: a new method for the determination of adult skeletal age at death, Am. J. Phys. Anthropol., 68, 15–28
[CrossRef], [PubMed], [Web of Science ®]
View all references; Brooks and Suchey 199021. Brooks, S. and Suchey, J. 1990. Skeletal age determination based on the os pubis: a comparison of the Acsádi and Neméskeri and Suchey-Brooks methods, Human Evolution, 5, 227–38
[CrossRef]
View all references) and molar wear (Brothwell 198122. Brothwell, D. 1981. Digging Up Bones, 3rd edition, Oxford: Oxford University Press

View all references). No attempt was made to sex immature individuals. The sex of adult skeletons was determined by dimorphic characteristics of the pelvis and skull (Buikstra and Ubelaker 199425. Buikstra, J. E. and Ubelaker, D. H. (eds) 1994. Standards for the Collection from Human Skeletal Remains, Arkansas Archaeol. Survey Res. Ser., 44, Fayetteville: Arkansas Archaeological Survey

View all references).

Falys and Lewis (201149. Falys, C. G. and Lewis, M. E. 2011. Proposing a way forward: a review of standardisation in the use of age categories and ageing techniques in osteological analysis (2004–2009), Int. J. Osteoarchaeol., 21, 704–16
[CrossRef], [Web of Science ®]
View all references) have highlighted how the numerous and varied age categories used in osteological reports can hinder comparative analysis. Those employed in Gilchrist and Sloane (200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references, 17) have been adopted for this analysis as it was felt that they would be most useful when comparing data from other medieval hospital cemeteries. The assessment of age obtained for each of the various ageing techniques is held in the archive. The age categories used are: Foetal (+/-0 years old), Infant (0–5 years old), Child (6–10 years old), Immature (11–15 years old), Young adult (16–25 years old), Mature adult (26–45 years old), Old/elderly adult (46 + years old), General immature (6–15 years old), Non-adult (<15 years old) and Adult (16+ years old). A five-point sexing scale was used: male, probable male, undetermined, probable female and female. Where truncation or the absence of sexually dimorphic elements prevented observations, adult remains were classified as of undetermined sex (und.). No attempt was made to sex immature remains. For analysis, data for probable females and females and for probable males and males were pooled, unless otherwise stated. Adult stature was estimated from femoral length using the standard male and female regression formulae of Trotter (1970109. Trotter, M. 1970. Estimation of stature from intact limb bones, in T. D. Stewart (ed.), Personal Identification in Mass Disasters, 71–83, Washington, Smithsonian Institution

View all references) and is expressed in centimetres. Most measurements are expressed in metres to an accuracy of the nearest centimetre and statistical calculations are expressed to one decimal place. Pathological lesions were described and scored using accepted methods presented in Brickley and Mckinley (200420. Brickley, M. and Mckinley, J. I. (eds) 2004. Guidelines to the Standards for Recording Human Remains, IfA Paper, 7, Reading: Institute for Archaeologists

View all references). This and other metrical data is available in the archive.

The number of individuals dying in each age category, and their sex where it could be established is presented in Table 3. Within the cemetery, sixty-one individuals (15.3%) died before they were sixteen years old, with half of those dying between the ages of 11–15 years (no. = thirty). Amongst the burial population and the vast quantity of disarticulated material that was scanned on site (but not recorded), no neonates or infants below the age of five years old were recovered. Reasons for the absence of young children from the burial population will be explored below.

In a ‘normal’ pre-industrial cemetery population one would expect to see a peak in mortality amongst the very young, possibly a spike amongst young women of child-bearing age and then another peak in both sexes in the elderly age category (Waldron 1994113. Waldron, T. 1994. Counting the Dead. The Epidemiology of Skeletal Populations, Chichester: John Wiley and Sons

View all references, 23; Roberts and Manchester 199596. Roberts, C. and Manchester, K. 1995. The Archaeology of Disease, 2nd edition, Stroud: Sutton

View all references, 25) but this is not the case in the Hospital assemblage. When observing the burial population as a whole (all phases amalgamated), adult mortality for both sexes peaks between the ages of 26–45 years (Illus 18–19), although the high number adults of undetermined sex should be considered. Of the adults that could be sexed (no. = 159) 54.1% were male (no. = 86) and 45.9% were female (no. = 73) (Table 3), a male: female ratio of 1.17: 1 (Illus. 20).

Skeletal remains have been assigned to five phases (Early, Early–Mid, Mid, Mid–Late, Late), plus a few that could not be phased (no. = 27, 6.75%) (see above). The ratio of immature individuals (younger than sixteen years) to adults is constant at c. 1:5 through the phases (Table 4). Taking the cemetery as a whole, both female and male mortality peaks between the ages of 26–45 years in all periods, except for the Early phase where death peaks between the ages of 16–25 years (Table 5). There does appear to be a general peak in the proportion of males in the Late phase. Closer examination of the data for this latest phase indicates that all male age groups are disproportionately over-represented in comparison to women, which might indicate a change in the nature of the population being buried.

The femur was the most common limb bone that could be measured, surviving in ninety-five adult skeletons from the graveyard that could be attributed a sex and in a further two from contemporary pit F.435 (Table 6; Illus. 21). The average male and female heights (1.69 m and 1.58 m) are similar to those recorded in the region for this period (Anderson 20093. Anderson, S. 2009. The human skeletal remains, in H. A. Wallis. A Medieval Cemetery at Mill Lane, Ormesbury, St Margaret, Norfolk, 11–27, East Anglian Archaeol. 130, Gressenhall: Norfolk Archaeological Unit

View all references, 14). Male mean height was remarkably constant through all phases (average 1.67–1.69 m), whereas the female mean height varied from phase to phase with no distinct trend. The shortest female skeleton (F.731), measuring only 1.46 m (4 ft. 9 in.) dates to the Early-Mid phase. In fact, in the cemetery as a whole seven women were below 1.52 m (5 ft.) (F.256, 264 360, 700, 731, 900, 905); at Ormesby St. Margaret the women were also particularly short for the region and period, with four being below 5 ft. (Anderson 20093. Anderson, S. 2009. The human skeletal remains, in H. A. Wallis. A Medieval Cemetery at Mill Lane, Ormesbury, St Margaret, Norfolk, 11–27, East Anglian Archaeol. 130, Gressenhall: Norfolk Archaeological Unit

View all references). Nutritional status and disease in childhood affects the chances of achieving potential stature in adulthood. It should be noted that there was often a disparity amongst the non-adult burials between ages derived from dental eruption and development and those calculated using long bone length, a phenomenon often observed in archaeological samples such as Wharram Percy (Mays 200780. Mays, S. 2007. The human remains, in S. Mays, C. Harding, and C. Heighway. The Churchyard: Wharram. A Study of Settlement on the Yorkshire Wolds XI, 77–192, York University Archaeological Publications, 13, York, York University Department of Archaeology

View all references, 97–100). Dental ages were consistently ‘older’ than ages calculated by long bone length (3–4 years); suggesting perhaps a strong influence of environmental factors on skeletal development within this population, particularly given the relatively low mean heights of the adult population.

Dentition could be examined from ninety individuals from the cemetery (seventeen non-adults, seventy-four adults, of which forty-one were male and thirty female), plus the elderly adult probable female from the pit group (F.458). Prevalence rates for various dental pathologies are presented in Table 7 and prevalence rates by age and sex group in Table 8. Prevalence rates of periodontal disease and caries are similar to those presented for the later medieval period in Roberts and Cox (200395. Roberts, C. and Cox, M. 2003. Health and Disease in Britain from Prehistory to the Present Day, Stroud: Sutton

View all references, tables 5.17 and 8.2), although it should be noted that their figures represent data amalgamated from many different sites, and therefore simply present an average for the period. Prevalence rates of ante-mortem tooth loss and abscesses at the cemetery are lower (Roberts and Cox 200395. Roberts, C. and Cox, M. 2003. Health and Disease in Britain from Prehistory to the Present Day, Stroud: Sutton

View all references, table 8.2), but within the range recorded for other sites of the period, and rates of calculus and enamel hypoplasia are higher (Roberts and Cox 200395. Roberts, C. and Cox, M. 2003. Health and Disease in Britain from Prehistory to the Present Day, Stroud: Sutton

View all references tables 5.18 and 5.21). Males and females exhibit very similar patterns of caries and abscesses; although the rates for ante-mortem tooth loss (AMTL) and enamel hypoplasias are somewhat lower for females. Hypoplastic defects, thought to represent episodes of nutritional and/or physiological stress in childhood, were recorded in almost half of the surviving dentition with 64.7% of all immature dentitions having at least one enamel defect. The canines were the teeth most commonly affected. In almost all of the dentitions examined, from both adults and immature individuals, slight to heavy deposits of calculus (mineralized plaque) were recorded on at least half of the surviving teeth, suggesting poor oral hygiene. Four immature individuals (F.192, 254, 377, 737) had one or more carious lesions on their deciduous teeth; this suggests either weak enamel, poor dental hygiene, a diet rich in starchy carbohydrates or a combination of these factors (Hillson 199664. Hillson, S. 1996. Dental Anthropology, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press
[CrossRef]
View all references, 269). Three adults (males F.513, 806, female F.707) had maxillary incisors that exhibited abnormal wear altering their shape, which may have resulted from para-functional wear from some habitual atypical activity.

The presence/absence of only two non-metric traits thought to be familial were selected for recording. Of eighty-two individuals with a frontal bone present, eight retained the metopic suture (9.76% TPR; F.193, 194, 251, 260, 263, 359, 392, 753). Six were males or possible males, one a female and one immature. Although all bar two dated to the Late period, they were spread across the burial ground (one potential cluster lay in Area 2, where F.260 lay above F.263, this is likely to be coincidental as one burial removed most of the other, suggesting a considerable time delay between the burials). Of 171 individuals with one or more distal humeri surviving nine exhibited a septal aperture (CPR 5.3%, TPR 4.4%; F.192, 256, 281, 393, 756, 806, 925, 633, 1045); no spatial clustering was apparent.

Many of the adults, both male and female had pronounced muscle attachments, particularly on the humeri, suggesting long-standing physical activity involving the upper body. Five individuals, three female and two immature (F.260, 295, 701, 772, 725), had deep, negative depressions at the entheses or sites of muscle insertions, particularly, but not exclusively in the lower limbs. The high frequency of grooves or ‘fossae’ at muscle and ligament attachments in immature skeletons relates to normal growth patterns and can persist into young adulthood (Villotte and Knüsel 2013112. Villotte, S. and Knüsel, C. J. 2013. Understanding entheseal changes: definitions and life course changes, Int. J. Osteoarchaeol., 23, 135–46
[CrossRef], [Web of Science ®]
View all references, 141), but two individuals exhibiting these deep fossae are mature adults. Another possible explanation may be a fault in the hormone related protein (pTHrP), which drives the formation or excavation of entheses (Wang et al. 2013117. Wang, M., Van Houten, J. N., Nasiri, A. R., Johnson, R. L. and Broadus, A. E. 2013. PTHrP regulates the modeling of cortical bone surfaces at fibrous insertion sites during growth, J. Bone Mineral Res., 28, 598–607
[CrossRef], [PubMed], [Web of Science ®]
View all references).

The age and sex profile from the cemetery varies significantly from that seen at other known infirmary hospital cemeteries (Gilchrist and Sloane 200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references, table 19) and from parish cemeteries in the region such as Crowland Road, Haverhill (Waldron 2005114. Waldron, T. 2005. The human remains, in J. Murray. Excavation of a medieval cemetery at Crowland Road, Haverhill, 26–39, Proc. Suffolk Inst. Archaeol., 41, 5–42

View all references) and Mill Lane, Ormesby (Anderson 20093. Anderson, S. 2009. The human skeletal remains, in H. A. Wallis. A Medieval Cemetery at Mill Lane, Ormesbury, St Margaret, Norfolk, 11–27, East Anglian Archaeol. 130, Gressenhall: Norfolk Archaeological Unit

View all references) (Illus 23–24). Explanations as to why the demographic profiles are so different, particularly given the high proportion of the original cemetery examined, are discussed below.

Amongst the adults, the proportion of males and females is similar, whereas in other medieval British infirmary cemetery populations younger males dominate. This trend could be explained by the inclusion in these published groups of burials from in and around the church, likely to include clergy as well as other wealthy (possibly mainly male) benefactors. The cemetery examined is physically separate from the Hospital itself and its chapel and so may contain only the poorer inmates and a small number of lay donors. At St Mary Spital, when only the area of the burial site away from chapel is examined (known as OA11) the profile is similar to that of the burial population under consideration (Thomas et al. 1997108. Thomas, C., Sloane, B. and Phillpotts, C. 1997. Excavations at the Priory and Hospital of St. Mary Spital, London, MoLAS Monogr., 1, London, Museum of London Archaeological Service

View all references, 112, table 15).

At the cemetery, the lack of a peak in mortality in young females (a trend observed in a ‘normal’ mortality profile and attributed to complications related to childbearing (Roberts and Manchester 199596. Roberts, C. and Manchester, K. 1995. The Archaeology of Disease, 2nd edition, Stroud: Sutton

View all references, 25)) - creating double closed brackets can be explained perhaps because the rules of the Hospital specifically prohibited the treatment/admission of pregnant women (Rubin 198799. Rubin, M. 1987. Charity and Community in Medieval Cambridge, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press
[CrossRef]
View all references, 157) unlike other Augustinian institutions such as St. Mary Spital, London (Connell et al. 201240. Connell, B., Jones, A. G., Redfern, R. and Walker, D. 2012. A Bioarchaeological Study of Medieval Burials on the Site of St. Mary Spital: Excavations at Spitalfields Market, London E1, 1991–2007, MoLA Monogr. 60, London, Museum of London Archaeology

View all references, 195). The complete absence of children below the age of five is less easily explained. At St. Leonard, Newark infirmary hospital, there were no individuals aged under sixteen, although the other two infirmary sites had a small number of children under the age of five years (Table 13). In addition, the cemetery does not match the profile of the probable almshouse hospital cemetery at St. Giles, Brompton Bridge, Yorkshire (Gilchrist and Sloane 200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references, table 21) or the leprosarium of St. James and Mary Magdalene, Chichester (Gilchrist and Sloane 200554. Gilchrist, R. and Sloane, B. 2005, Requiem. The Medieval Monastic Cemetery in Britain, London, MoLAS

View all references, table 20). Demographic profiles of parish cemeteries in the region, such as Crowland Road, Haverhill (Waldron 2005114. Waldron, T. 2005. The human remains, in J. Murray. Excavation of a medieval cemetery at Crowland Road, Haverhill, 26–39, Proc. Suffolk Inst. Archaeol., 41, 5–42

View all references) and Mill Lane, Ormesby (Anderson 20093. Anderson, S. 2009. The human skeletal remains, in H. A. Wallis. A Medieval Cemetery at Mill Lane, Ormesbury, St Margaret, Norfolk, 11–27, East Anglian Archaeol. 130, Gressenhall: Norfolk Archaeological Unit

View all references) are also dissimilar, showing a high proportion (c. 30%) of individuals under the age of sixteen, including neonates and even a pre-term foetus. Whilst there is evidence in the medieval period for neonates and the very young to be buried adjacent to churches/chapels (Cessford and Dickens 200732. Cessford, C. with Dickens, A. 2007. Ely Cathedral and environs: recent excavations, Proc. Cambridge Antiq. Soc., 96, 161–74

View all references, 167–69; Connell et al. 201240. Connell, B., Jones, A. G., Redfern, R. and Walker, D. 2012. A Bioarchaeological Study of Medieval Burials on the Site of St. Mary Spital: Excavations at Spitalfields Market, London E1, 1991–2007, MoLA Monogr. 60, London, Museum of London Archaeology

View all references, 5) this was not to the total exclusion of them being interred within the cemetery proper. The fact that not a single identifiable individual or disarticulated bone could be aged under five years, and that only 6.3% of those in the excavated burials were under ten years old, must either indicate that children this young were not present in the Hospital, or that if they were then they were buried elsewhere, perhaps close to the main Hospital or Chapel.

Carbon and nitrogen stable isotope analysis was undertaken by Mary Price on bones from 106 skeletons (Price 201390. Price, M. 2013. How Did the Social Changes of the Fourteenth Century Affect the Everyday Lives of English People? A Case Study from St. John’s Divinity School, Cambridge, unpublished undergraduate dissertation, University of Cambridge

View all references). The δ13C samples show little variability; their range is just 1.8‰ with a mean value of -19.1‰, indicating minimal marine input into the diet. The δ15N range is broader, with a mean value of 12.3 and a range of 6.0‰; this may indicate significant variation in the sources of dietary protein, though this is not conclusive without further work. There was no evidence for any statistically significant change in diet over time, or variation based upon sex or age. There was, however, some minor sex and age related variation that may be meaningful. The mean δ15N value is higher for individuals identified as definitely male than for those identified as definitely female and the spread of δ13C values is lower for females than for males. The reasons for this are unclear. It appears that young adults may have consumed a slightly different diet from non-adults and more mature adults, or that they consumed a very different diet for part of the year. One possibility is that the young adults were involved in harvest activities away from Cambridge and consumed a different diet at this time. Elevated δ13C and δ15N might suggest that harvest workers were given better access to dietary protein, and specifically to marine fish since both carbon and nitrogen are enriched. The cemetery data was compared to published results from 632 individuals from fifteen sites in the British Isles of broadly similar date (Price 201390. Price, M. 2013. How Did the Social Changes of the Fourteenth Century Affect the Everyday Lives of English People? A Case Study from St. John’s Divinity School, Cambridge, unpublished undergraduate dissertation, University of Cambridge

View all references, 53–63). The results fall within the typical range of results from other sites, although there do appear to be statistical differences between individuals of different social status and from different geographic localities.

Ten samples were submitted for radiocarbon dating (Table 14). Radiocarbon dating of medieval urban cemeteries can be fruitful, but is problematic due to the potential impact of dietary offsets, such as those linked to marine component and the fact that bone collagen is slowly turned over throughout life on a c. 10–30 year cycle. Overall, determinations often produce results that are rather earlier than other evidence indicates (Bayliss et al. 200412. Bayliss A., Sheperd Popescu E., Beavan-Athfield, N., Bronk Ramsey, C., Cook, G. T. and Locker, A. 2004. The potential significance of dietary offsets for the interpretation of radiocarbon dates; an archaeologically significant example from medieval Norwich, J. Archaeol. Sci., 31, 563–75
[CrossRef], [Web of Science ®]
View all references; Sidell et al. 2007103. Sidell, J., Thomas, C. and Baylis, A. 2007. Validating and improving archaeological phasing at St. Mary Spital, London, Radiocarbon, 49, 593–610
[Web of Science ®]
View all references). Although marine fish apparently played an increasingly important role in medieval England after c. AD 1000 (Barrett et al. 200411. Barrett, J. H., Locker, A. M. and Roberts, C. M., 2004. ‘Dark Age economics’ revisited: the English fish bone evidence AD 600–1600, Antiquity, 78, 618–36
[Web of Science ®]
View all references), the average δ13C values for the individuals from the cemetery suggest that marine resources did not form a significant proportion of the diet and only relatively low quantities of fish bone have been recovered from excavations in Cambridge. Although exactitude is impossible, it is probable that the determinations are c. 10–20 years earlier than their true date. Additionally, it is unlikely that the very earliest and latest interments at the burial ground were dated. Indeed, it is possible that no traces of the earliest interments survive, as some of the stratigraphically earliest burials contained disarticulated human remains that cannot have derived from any surviving identified burial.

Bayesian analysis (http://bcal.sheffield.ac.uk; Buck et al. 199924. Buck, C. E., Christen, J. A. and James, G. N. 1999. BCal: an on- line Bayesian radiocarbon calibration tool, Internet Archaeol. 7, http://intarch.ac.uk/journal/issue7/buck/

View all references) confirmed that burial began in the thirteenth century, with nothing to contradict the documentary date of c. 1200–40, and definitely continued until the fourteenth and probably the fifteenth centuries (Table 15). The determinations are fully compatible with the phasing sequence and indicate that if burial took place throughout the existence of the cemetery (c. 1200–1511) then the rate of burial was much greater during the earlier part of this period, c. 1200–1350 (Tables 15–16). Whilst it is unlikely that the cemetery phases correspond to documented events, at a broad level it is probable that the Early and Mid phase burials pre-date the Great Mortality of 1348–50 and the Late phase burials post-date it. The determinations also support the assumption that burial did not continue after 1511.