Laughton en le Morthen, South Yorkshire: Evolution of a Medieval Magnate Core

ABSTRACT Towards the end of the first millennium, a fundamental change in the fabric of Western European elite society occurred as families began to promote themselves not on the basis of kin-groups but of their personal wealth. Key to self-aggrandisement was the ownership of local power centres, into which aristocrats poured investment. In England, few of these magnate cores have been investigated archaeologically, and understanding relies on a small corpus of well-excavated sites. Eager to shift this dependence on excavated evidence, research at Laughton en le Morthen, South Yorkshire used a range of methods to reveal the origins of an aristocratic centre, and its transformation in the wake of the Norman Conquest. This included construction of a motte and bailey castle that was perhaps never used for military purposes, but was instead curated as a folly-type feature expressive of new lordly power. The results from Laughton not only allow the evolution of the site and its landscape to be mapped, but also shows the value of adopting diverse archaeological research methodologies for understanding medieval magnate cores.


Introduction
From the earliest decades of the tenth century the aristocracies of Western Europe began to invest heavily in their residences, creating 'theatres of consumption' reflective of their wealth, power, and status (Loveluck 2007, 156).The importance of these places was largely a product of the contemporary nature of elite power, in which social standing was achieved by convincing peers of its legitimacy.The processes that initiated the rise of newly influential groups was regionally varied.In much of Francia the main driver was probably the disintegration of the Carolingian Empire, while in England the breakup of large estates allowed individuals to further themselves by establishing residential complexes within embryonic manorial units (Blair 1994, 132-4).Creation of new aristocratic centres not only represented a localisation of power in the landscape, but was also part of a much deeper-rooted and significant social transformation.Communities that had once been orientated around kin-groups began to be structured instead on personal wealth and status, as 'feudal' society became increasingly widespread and pervasive (Wickham 2009, 508-64).
In England, archaeological and documentary evidence has outlined some of the key components of elite complexes emerging as early as the ninth century; typically a hall and other domestic buildings were encompassed within a defensible enclosure sometimes accessed by a gatehouse.While the number of halls fluctuated over time, they were invariably surrounded by a banked and ditched perimeter of two distinct types, circular or oval compounds as found at Goltho in Lincolnshire, and rectilinear arrangements such as those excavated at West Cotton and Raunds Furnells, both in Northamptonshire (Beresford 1987;Audouy and Chapman 2009;Chapman 2010).During the eleventh century many sites began to be modified, perhaps reflecting the emergence of competitive display within the nobility.A greater variety of settlement forms is detectable, with courtyards in particular rising in prominence (Gardiner 2017, 90-100).The burgeoning aristocracy also projected their power through the construction of lordly (or 'thegnly') estate churches either within or on the periphery of the enclosures that embraced residential buildings (Shapland 2019, 144-5).Elites furnished these churchyards with funerary monuments and other stone sculpture, quickly becoming 'a unique confluence of religious and secular power' (McClain 2015, 185).Paired together these residential and ecclesiastical constructions formed magnate cores, fixing elite authority within particular locations in the rural landscape.
The durability of high-status enceintes has long been recognised, with pre-Conquest phases frequently perpetuated by the construction of castles or manor houses in later centuries.Many of these locations continue to be occupied into the present day, allowing scholars to trace the character of elite life across a millennium or more.A recent assessment of the Prebendal Manor at Nassington in Northamptonshire exemplifies the kind of insights that can be gained through detailed study of below ground as well as standing remains, in this instance modelling change from the tenth century (Baile et al. 2021).The research potential offered by investigation of such aristocratic centres, however, is sometimes offset by the complexities brought with studying long-lived and much remodelled sites.Early phases, invariably the most archaeologically ephemeral in the occupation sequence, are particularly susceptible to degradation and destruction through subsequent activity (e.g.Graham and Davis 1993).Compounding this problem is the relative dearth in comprehensive excavation of lordly complexes, exceptions such as Nassington notwithstanding.For decades, few new sites have been excavated and alternative datasets rarely appear.Even where intervention has been undertaken, dissemination and interpretation have rarely been straightforward.The important excavations undertaken at Sulgrave in Northamptonshire are yet to be fully published (Davison 1977), while re-scrutiny of the Goltho archive, for instance, led to a complete overhaul of its chronological sequence.
Written records offer an alternative source for extrapolating development, and in particular have been used by scholars to demonstrate how later features, such as castles, often perpetuate the importance of early estates (e.g.Liddiard 2000;Lowerre 2005, 54-86).The primary significance of these documents lies in illustrating tenurial continuity, as the legal apparatus of the upper echelons of society was appropriated, but they do not detail the physical transformation of power centres as it occurred on the ground.In the case of castles, for instance, texts are unclear whether earlier components were integrated into remodelled layouts, or if there was greater destruction and a more fundamental schism with the past.Indeed, the motivations behind choosing to build a castle at an existing lordly centre, when a site could equally be perpetuated as a manor house or abandoned altogether, largely remains unexplained.Such uncertainty is somewhat typical of research into medieval aristocratic centres in England, an area of scholarship that continues to be inhibited by a highly compartmentalised environment.Historians and archaeologists usually study their material in relative isolation and specialists are further divided into those studying pre-Conquest and post-Conquest periods.As a consequence, fundamental questions exist regarding the origins and development of high-status enceintes, and their numbers, distribution, and physical characteristics are poorly understood.
New datasets are undoubtedly central to improving this outlook, and archaeological techniques have significant and hitherto untapped potential.Archaeological approaches, however, could usefully shift from the existing focus on resource intensive and time-consuming large-scale excavation, to alternative forms of analysis.When integrated with other evidence, these new data allow trajectories of aristocratic centres to be reconstructed with some precision.This paper offers an example of the results of such an approach at Laughton en le Morthen in South Yorkshire.By combining the results of geophysical and topographic survey, targeted excavation, built heritage assessment, and analysis of early funerary sculpture with evidence from the documentary record and other sources, a coherent and long-term model of evolution for Laughton as an aristocratic power centre can be generated.Moreover, this approach sets a methodological agenda for the investigation of aristocratic residences in England and elsewhere, illustrating how fresh evidence can transform our comprehension of the localisation of elite power in the medieval landscape.Parts of the work-an assessment of All Saints' Church, and of the funerary sculpture situated within its fabric-were undertaken by colleagues at the invitation of the authors, and their contributions are included below.

Laughton en le Morthen: Survey and Excavation
Situated on a prominent outcrop within the Magnesian Limestone belt of South Yorkshire, the modern village of Laughton en le Morthen is a linear settlement approximately 11 km south-east of Rotherham.Laughton was a significant centre in the medieval period, the focus of a large estate, the prebend of its church lay under the jurisdiction of the Dean and Chapter of York from the twelfth century (Hey and Wood 2017).Evidence from previous archaeological interventions support this picture, with an excavation undertaken at Rectory Farm to the north of the High Street about 75 m east of the church locating industrial activity spanning the tenth or eleventh to the fourteenth centuries (West Yorkshire Archaeological Service 2007;Roberts et al. 2007).The most notable evidence of Laughton's medieval prestige, though, is found at the western edge of the village where the impressive parish church of All Saints' lies adjacent to the remains of a motte and bailey castle (Figure 1).The earthworks of the castle are described by Historic England as 'conventional' in form, comprising a c.9 m high motte, appended to the north-east by a kidney-shaped inner bailey measuring c.50 m x 20 m (Historic England 1991).An indication of a lordly focus pre-dating the castle, however, is found in the Domesday Survey which describes Laughton as the location of an aula or 'hall' of Earl Edwin of Mercia (Williams and Martin 2003, 828).All Saints' also includes several pieces of late tenth or early eleventh-century work in its fabric, further alluding to major investment in the pre-Conquest period.On the basis of the written and material evidence, numerous commentators have suggested that Edwin's hall is most likely situated on the same site as the castle, the latter constructed by the Norman aristocracy to perpetuate the existing elite residence (e.g.Hey 1979, 41;Creighton 2002, 118;Blair 2018, 394-5).
Seeking to test this hypothesis for the first time, the authors undertook an initial phase of archaeological investigation comprising topographic and earth resistance survey of the castle and its environs (Bromage 2018).Topographic modelling was achieved through aerial photogrammetric data collected via Unmanned Aerial Vehicle (drone) flight of a grid plan over the survey area, capturing vertical images from altitudes of between 50m and 120m.The resulting data were processed to produce a point cloud and Digital Elevation Model as Geotif files.The Digital Elevation Model was geo-referenced to the National Grid via GPS positioned ground control points.Processed data from both surveys were presented using ESRI ArcMap v10.4.1, and assessed for features of potential archaeological significance.The earth resistance survey was undertaken using an RM Frobisher TAR-3, incorporating a mobile twin probe array at fixed separation of 0.5m, carried out at a resolution of 0.25m along 1m transects.It was focussed on two areas based on the potential for locating medieval activity: the motte and bailey earthworks (Area A), and the area immediately south of the motte (Area B) (Figure 2).The slopes of the motte were omitted from the study, their steep gradient rendering survey impractical.
These methods identified a series of anomalies that almost certainly represent archaeological features (Figure 3).Among the most significant are geophysical anomalies to the south of the motte (Figure 4), a series of low resistance linear features that seem to represent a complex of ditches perhaps relating to an enclosure, which is also faintly visible on the topographic model (Figure 4(A,B)).These features bear close comparison with enclosures found on pre-Conquest aristocratic centres and, as a consequence, were earmarked for excavation (see below).Features of possible pre-castle origin were also identified to the north of the motte, where two linear arrangements of high resistance anomalies 5 m apart were detected by earth resistance and correspond with a double bank visible on topographic data (Figure 4(C)).Both the spacing of these features and the presence of high resistance anomalies, perhaps representing stone packing for postholes, are consistent with a rectilinear structure perhaps representing the remains of a hall.Strengthening the case for this feature dating to an early phase is its alignment with the present parish church, perpetuating a rectilinear approach to planning distinctive of early elite compounds (Gardiner 2017, 90).The church seems to have stood in its own enclosure, the northern extent of which is discernible on the topographic model as a low west-east orientated bank (Figure 5).On the same orientation, located at the eastern end of the potential hall, a high resistance rectilinear anomaly of uncertain origin was recorded (Figure 4(D)).Another high resistance anomaly located adjacent to the break in the bailey bank (Figure 4(E)) can more confidently be identified as a gatehouse, although a date for its construction is impossible to determine.
The presence of significant archaeological features initiated a second phase of investigation, comprising targeted excavation but also standing building survey of All Saints' Church, and assessment of an early grave cover incorporated into the church fabric (see below).Excavation consisted of two evaluation trenches, targeted on linear anomalies identified by topographic and earth resistance surveys (Figure 6) (Bromage 2019).These trenches located two rock-cut ditches, seemingly forming the southern and western extensions of a rectilinear enclosure (Figure 7).A slot was identified at the base of the southern enclosure ditch, probably the remains of a footing to support vertical timbers of a palisade.Frustratingly, no directly datable material was recovered from either fill, even though (despite early medieval South Yorkshire being largely aceramic) a significant pre-Conquest pottery assemblage had been recovered from Laughton during earlier excavations at Rectory Farm (Roberts et al. 2007).The enclosure ditches share similar dimensions to those identified at Raunds, Northamptonshire (Group III, enclosing buildings F, G, H & R) and at Godmanchester, Cambridgeshire (Enclosure 1) (Cadman 1983;Gibson and Murray 2003), however, supporting an early medieval date for their creation.The lack of recovered material culture of any kind from the ditch fills is also significant in hinting that the features were rapidly backfilled, a hypothesis also supported by their strikingly homogenous fill.The profile of the palisade slot and the lower edges of both rock-cut ditches also demonstrated evidence for disturbance, consistent with the deliberate levering out of timbers (Bromage 2019, 8).
Further to the west of the western enclosure ditch, excavation located an additional rock-cut ditch, orientated broadly north-south.A lack of datable material recovered from the fill again makes phasing of the feature challenging but it is plausible that this formed part of a ditched settlement enclosure (Bromage 2019, 8).This boundary is crystalised in the historic settlement pattern, and clearly discernible in early cartography for Laughton including in an enclosure map of 1771 (Figure 8).Furthermore, a north-south extension of the circuit was located by the excavations at Rectory Farm where 'Ditch 2' extended for over 21 m within the excavated area (West Yorkshire Archaeological Service 2007, 11).The absence of dating evidence led to this ditch being assigned a somewhat conjectural later medieval date, but it is more likely that the entire settlement enclosure is contemporary with construction of the castle, as indeed the excavation led by the present authors suggest.As significant as these results are, however, an understanding of Laughton's evolution as a magnate core is still further enhanced by assessment of All Saints' Church and an early grave cover built into its fabric.

Standing Building Analysis of All Saints' Church, Laughton by Michael Shapland
The church of All Saints' at Laughton has been the subject of a number of reasonably thorough discussions over the past century or so, the detail of which will not be rehearsed here (Rigby 1904;Taylor and Taylor 1965, 373-6;Ryder 1982, 71-83;Hey and Wood 2017).Briefly, the present structure comprises a spacious nave with a square-ended chancel of the same width, which was provided with aisles to the north and south towards the end of the fourteenth century.These clasp the tower of the same date, topped by an imposing spire, which dominates the western end of the church.To the south of the tower is the principal access, via a porch which again dates from the fourteenth century.The key surviving feature from the early medieval church is a small porticus which projects from the north side of the tower, and survives due to its incorporation into the western end of the later aisle (Figure 9).Measuring c. 5.4 m broad externally, with walls 0.90 m thick, it is constructed from large, heterogeneous blocks of coursed, dressed reddish-brown sandstone with substantial long-and-short quoining to its north-eastern corner; the quoining to the north-western corner is truncated by a later buttress.Into the wall is set a tall (c.2.5 m) doorway topped by a semi-circular head framed by substantial voussoirs, which would probably have once contained a tympanum.The doorway is framed by pronounced Anglo-Saxon stripwork, including jambs with plain capitals and   bases, and is partially truncated by a second doorway inserted here in the late twelfth century.The wall sits atop a curious double-stepped square plinth, which serves to raise the jambs of this elaborate doorway significantly above ground level.If it were not for the coherence of this feature with its surrounding masonry, including the longand-short quoin stones, it would be tempting to say it has been re-set here from somewhere else.As it is, we can be reasonably confident that this porticus and its doorway represent a fragment of Laughton's original Anglo-Saxon church, dating (on the basis of its stripwork) to the later tenth or first half of the eleventh century.
The other area of early masonry lies within the chancel, which is superficially of the same character as the Anglo-Saxon porticus to the west, since it comprises large, heterogeneous blocks of roughly coursed and dressed reddish-brown sandstone.This cannot, however, be original work, since the chancel sits atop a chamfered plinth which continues around a series of ashlar buttresses supporting its external walls (Taylor and Taylor 1965, 374-5).The reddish-brown sandstone was presumably therefore re-used from part of the original Anglo-Saxon church on the site.A triangular-headed piscina, visible internally, has likewise been created from re-used material.A string course is present at approximately head height, above which the chancel wall changes to much smaller, rougher sandstone rubble, set with a number of single-splayed window-openings of Norman character.Peter Ryder's favoured interpretation of the original Anglo-Saxon church was that it comprised a conventional nave with a western tower flanked by two porticus, of which only the northern one survives (Figure 10).This would be very unusual amongst the hundred or so Anglo-Saxon churches for which we have reasonably complete structural evidence.The best parallel would be Netheravon (Wiltshire), which probably comprised a nave with a western tower, substantial north and south porticus, and a western porch, although the evidence is very fragmentary following its rebuilding in the 1090s (Taylor and Taylor 1965, 456-9;Baggs et al. 1980).A church of this elaborate type, complete with a sophisticated westwork, would be indicative of an early minster, for which there is no evidence at Laughton.Instead, the church is more likely to have been established as a private, proprietary chapel by Earl Edwin or his predecessors serving their residence which stood immediately adjacent.
An alternative interpretation of this orphaned porticus is that it originally belonged to a small cruciform church of lordly origins, such as the eleventh-century church of St Nicholas in Worth (West Sussex).This stands at a late Anglo-Saxon estate centre, within a substantial enclosure that contains a moated manorial site (Salzman 1940, 192-200).If so, the porticus at Laughton would have been a northern transept or porch; having an entrance on the north side of a cruciform church is unusual, but there are broadly contemporary examples of this at St Laurence's, Bradford on Avon (Wiltshire) and St Mary-in-Castro, Dover (Kent) (Gilbert Scott 1863; Taylor and Taylor 1965, 214-7;Hinton 2009Hinton , 2022Hinton , 2010;;Haslam 2013).The problem with interpreting Laughton as a modest cruciform church, of the type at Bradford or Worth, is the location of its original nave.For this, the nave would need to have originally lain immediately to the west of the extant Anglo-Saxon porticus, rather than to the east, as is presently the case.If the nave had originally lain to the west, then we would expect it to have been rebuilt on the same site.It stretches credulity that the old nave and chancel would have been knocked down and an entirely new one erected on a fresh site, on the opposite side of the church, less than a century after it was first built.
The third possibility is that Laughton originally had no nave at all.In this interpretation the church would have been a small, centrally-planned structure, consisting of north and south porticus either side of a wider tower, and perhaps a small chancel to the east.Ryder first suggested this back in 1982, citing Stow (Lincolnshire) as an exemplar, but he did not develop the idea (Ryder 1982, 73-4).Stow is now thought to have originally comprised a centrally-planned church of cruciform type, with four equal porticus arranged around a substantial tower.It was one of three such churches erected in the mid-eleventh century at estate centres belonging to the archdiocese of York, all within the broader context of ecclesiastical reform (Everson and Stocker 2017).This fits with the wider observation that Anglo-Saxon cruciform churches are rare in the north of England, and that where they do exist they had strong episcopal links, of which Darlington (Durham) and Norton (Durham) are further examples (Cambridge 1994, 145-8).There is no evidence for episcopal associations with Laughton until it was given to York Minster in 1105, when it was granted by Queen Matilda and King Henry I as the basis for a prebend.Up to this date, documents show that church revenues had been given to the priory at Blyth (Stayce 1874, 402;Clay 1959, 49-51;Hey and Wood 2017).
This does not mean, however, that we should dismiss the idea that the church at Laughton originated as some kind of small, centrally-planned structure with a tower and at least one porticus, but no nave.Recent research into turriform churches of this type has shown that they may not have been uncommon in the landscape of late Anglo-Saxon England (Shapland 2019).Dating principally to the eleventh century, most were associated with lordly residences, where they are argued to have had a dual function as buildings of elite worship and symbols of secular power and authority.They generally took the form of small, square, free-standing towers of stone or timber, often with a modest chancel to the east and perhaps a baptistery or similar to the west, although examples with one or more flanking porticus such as at Laughton are also known.The lordly tower-nave church at Hastings Castle (Sussex), for example, seems to have had a flanking porticus to the south.At Sherborne (Dorset), Bishop Wulfsige III appears to have built a free-standing tower-chapel with flanking porticus to serve as his mausoleum (Shapland 2019, 25-7, 55-60).It has been observed that Laughton's Anglo-Saxon porticus was not retained by accident, but as a deliberate display of antiquity (Hey and Wood 2017).Perhaps, like at Sherborne, it once held a high-status tomb.
In common with other lordly tower-nave churches, All Saints' may also have had a strategic role as a watchtower for its associated manorial residence, due to the formidable views it would have afforded over the region.A comparable example may be found at Caistor (Lincolnshire), where Edwin's brother Morcar had his manorial enclosure, which akin to Laughton is described in the Domesday Book as the site of his aula (Williams and Martin 2003, 887).At Caistor also, there is an upstanding example of a lordly tower-nave church, which had commanding view over a number of strategic places in its vicinity (Shapland 2019, 39-46, 166-9).
In summary, so little fabric survives from Laughton's original Anglo-Saxon church that any effort to reconstruct its original form is more of a parlour-game than a realistic academic pursuit.Its surviving porticus may have belonged to a simple, cruciform church serving the adjacent elite residence, but the present nave seems to be in the wrong place for this to be likely.A porticus of this type would fit well with a former tower, and so may have lain at the west end of a sizeable church with an elaborate western tower, but this is what we would expect from a monastery, for which there is no evidence at Laughton.Alternatively, the porticus may have belonged to a tower which itself comprised the main body of its church.Tower-nave churches of this type are increasingly well-established at late Anglo-Saxon lordly residences, including at one belonging to Edwin's brother Morcar.In this interpretation, Earl Edwin's tower-chapel with its ostentatious porticus came into the hands of Roger de Busli, the new lord of the Honour of Tickhill, soon after the Norman Conquest.Roger and his successors concentrated their patronage at their other seats of Blyth and Tickhill, rather than at Laughton, which in 1105 they granted to York Minster.The Canons of York then set about converting this cramped manorial tower-nave into a congregational church of more conventional type, adding a nave and chancel at some point in the twelfth century, of which only the lower courses still survive.Without excavation, however, all this must remain conjecture.

The Medieval Grave Cover by Paul Everson and David Stocker
Built into the external fabric of the east wall of All Saints' Church is a fragment of an early grave cover with incised decoration (Figure 11).The whitish petrology may indicate oolitic limestone, in which case it was probably sourced from the Jurassic ridge 30 km to the east of Laughton.Alternatively, it may have come from the exposed Dolomitic magnesian limestone of Permian age which lies close to Laughton, and which can have a similar appearance especially in its southern reaches (Lott, G, in Everson and Stocker 2015, 11-16).The cover was at some date been cut in half longitudinally, and each long 'plank' then divided, probably into three, for re-use.This would give an estimated size for the original cover of c.1.5 m by c.50 cm.It is not possible to ascertain whether the original cover was tapered, but a slight taper head-to-foot is a distinct possibility, the surviving fragment probably representing the head end.Thanks to modern pointing, it is not easy to ascertain which of the two 'long' edges of the stone visible today represents the original and which the recut surface when the stone was divided for reuse.It appears, that there are the faintest of traces of cable moulding on the upper edge and the lateral arm seems to extend across this boundary as though it marked the original boundary of the stone.On this basis it is assumed that the present upper edge of the stone (and that to the north) are the two surviving original boundaries, the other two having been created when the stone was sub-divided for reuse.
This stone represents, then, the top left-hand corner of a large grave-cover, with an incised border of squarish profile.Along the sides of the monument the border appears to have been decorated with a lightly incised cable-moulding, but there is no sign of such elaboration on the border along the head-end.The stone is flat, not coped, but nevertheless the design was divided longitudinally by a substantial central fillet, of which we may have lost part when the stone was cut-up for reuse.Like all the decoration on the upper surface of the stone, this central fillet is deeply incised but not in relief.It is joined two-thirds of the way along the length within this stone by a fillet of similar width extending at right-angles to the apparently original edge, which it overrides.This arm appears to represent one arm of a cross motif, placed nearly one-third of the way down the original cover from the presumed head-end.
Within the interstices created by the 'cross-arm' are two triangular motifs, one nearcomplete, the other mostly missing.The more complete motif-located towards the presumed 'head end' of the original monument, and within the rectangular panel created between the upright of the cross, the cross arm and the two surviving original borders of the monument-is formed from three deeply incised lines forming one half of a 'lozenge' shape against the spinal cross.The left-hand tip of the lozenge terminates against the border moulding of the monument.In the panel below are two further incised diagonal lines indicating a similar motif in this panel to that above.Not enough survives within this panel to be certain whether the pendent lozenges within this panel deployed only a single, as opposed to a double, outline.
Grave covers with 'lozenges' and 'chevrons' are known from a wide range of other sites especially in eastern England and Yorkshire, and in a variety of different lithologies.Comparable examples are known from as close as Adel (West Yorkshire) (Lewthwaite 1867-8, 204a) and Forcett (North Yorkshire) (Lang 2001(Lang , 279, ill.1140), but have also been identified as distant as Bolam (Northumberland) (Cramp 1984(Cramp , 238, ill. 1333-4)-4).Stylistically, all these designs are evidently related to the ubiquitous 'chevron' used in every type of Romanesque architectural decoration, and they appear to be local variants of an international monument type, represented in Lincolnshire, for example, by the remarkable and magnificent coped cover at Rand church (Lincolnshire), which is cut in a black Belgian marble probably from the Tournai area (Pevsner and Harris 1964, 337-9).In terms of date, and apart from one-off examples such as North Kelsey, the group divides conveniently into two groups: those larger number of examples where the 'lozenge' is an isolated feature, and those where the 'lozenge' forms one part of a pattern of 'straight-armed' crosses forming a continuous pattern that covers the entire surface of the stone.
It is likely that the newly identified monument at Laughton is a work of the period between c.1060 and c.1150, with closest parallels suggesting a more specific date in the second half of the eleventh century.So far, Laughton appears to be one of only two examples of this form of monument cut in local Magnesian limestone (the other being at West Leake, Nottinghamshire), but we have already noted that this monument type was evidently created at a variety of different quarries in eastern and north-eastern England, indicating perhaps a period when the elite (for this is surely an elite monument) shared a single 'metropolitan' (and probably 'Romanesque') culture.It has been suggested previously that the Norman chancel at Laughton represents a rebuilding, undertaken as a result of the endowment of the prebend of York here in 1109, although it is not inconceivable that this monument belonged to an early prebend, or his vicar.Perhaps more likely is that the grave cover belonged to a secular individual, and therefore might have covered a burial made before 1109, suggesting again an eleventh-century date for the sculpture.This stone's relationship with the early fabric at the north-west corner at Laughton is more problematic.The strip-work in evidence in the north wall of the nave has always been related typologically by style-criticism to the period before 1066, and often to the years around c.1000 (see for example Taylor and Taylor 1965, 375).The best independently-dated example of such strip-work is probably that on the lower stages of the tower at Barton-upon-Humber, where Warwick Rodwell's exemplary study argues for a likely construction date in the second decade of the eleventh century (Rodwell 2011, 354-5).On the face of it, however, burial monuments of the type represented by our Laughton stone ought to originate a generation or two later in date.The grave-cover represented here would have been a prestige object when first laid-down above the burialwhether inside or outside the church.It has long been argued, not least by the present authors, that such grave-covers are typically associated with the founding generations in the parochial churches in which they occur.The fact that there appears to be a discrepancy in date at Laughton, therefore, between the expected date of the first stone church for which we have extant evidence, and the first elite burial monument for which evidence has survived, is noteworthy.Such a discrepancy might be an indication that this church had a more complicated origin-for example, perhaps an earlier and non-parochial origin-compared with many of the more typical parochial churches in the vicinity.It is eminently possible that Laughton only became a normal parish church, and more typical of South Yorkshire, once its church had changed status by passing into hands of an elite family eager to display status in their burial furniture.

Laughton: Emergence of an Aristocratic Power Centre
The various strands of archaeological evidence identified by this project allow a detailed picture to be established of Laughton's development as a medieval aristocratic power centre, and its transformation through the late eleventh and early twelfth centuries.Precisely when Laughton was chosen as a seigneurial enceinte is ambiguous, but the earliest material located by our investigations, the stripwork in All Saints' Church, dates to the late tenth or early eleventh century.It is probably around this time that a complex comprising a series of adjoining buildings, focussed upon a hall, was enclosed with a substantial banked, ditched, and palisaded circuit (Figure 12).This perimeter was clearly rectilinear in form and not, as has been suggested by previous commentators, an oval enclosure (e.g.Blair 2018, 395).The evidence from comparable sites in England suggests more enclosures, perhaps with further buildings, would have lain south of the main group, but subsequent construction of the castle is likely to have destroyed these features.Onto this residential compound was appended an easterly enclosure, within which stood a substantial stone-built church and cemetery (Figure 13).Whether founded by Earl Edwin himself or one of his predecessors, it now seems likely that All Saint's Church began life as a private, status-affording chapel and perhaps dynastic mausoleum for the elite families who lived in the adjoining residence.The arrangement of this pre-Conquest phase at Laughton shares similarities with other contemporary sites in England, such as the comprehensively excavated Raunds Furnells (Beresford 1987), and the partially investigated example at Trowbridge (Graham and Davis 1993;Blair 2005, 388).
Given the presence of the elite compound it is unsurprising that Laughton seems to have been an estate centre, and earlier excavation to the east of the church has identified evidence for the centralisation and processing of agricultural produce in the Saxo-Norman period (Roberts et al. 2007).Domesday Book delineates a large manor, and by the time Laughton parish is discernible in later medieval sources it is the focal point of a large administrative area.While the exact boundaries of this the 'Morthen' district are unclear, it probably included Aston, Morthen, Brampton and Dinnington as dependents (Hey 1979, 26).The organisational coherence of this territory discernible in documents well into the medieval period argues against its identification as a very early medieval estate, which from their inception were subject to decay and fragmentation.Instead, Morthen district probably dates to the late tenth or early eleventh centuries, and indeed its creation may have been coterminous with establishment of the aristocratic centre at Laughton.This period was characterised by the creation of new estates in northern England and the east midlands, units that were often granted to leading English or southern Danelaw lords in an attempt to consolidate West Saxon rule (Roffe 2011, 35-45).
The Morthen territory is most likely a product of the same process, one of a number of estates that lay in the key strategic region between the Pennines to the west and the marshlands fringing the Humber to the east (Roffe pers. comm. 2022).Within this zone, Morthen's significance was heightened by the presence of Icknield Street, a northsouth long distance routeway, perhaps prehistoric in origin but developed into a road during the Roman period.Stretching from the Fosse Way near Bourton on the Water in Gloucestershire to the Roman fort at Templeborough near Sheffield, the road retained its importance well into the medieval period and was used to delineate the western boundary of the district (Hey 1979, 15-17).
Early records generally give the name 'Morthen' for this administrative area, with Laughton and Brampton still referred to as 'en le Morthen', and Dinnington and Aston   formerly called 'in Morthen' (Smith 1961, 101-168).Some scholars have argued that Morthen is a product of Old English mor and thing denoting a 'moorland assembly', and a site near Morthen village has been suggested as a potential meeting place (Ekwall 1960, 331;Smith 1961, 101).These etymological interpretations have been critiqued, however, and there is little compelling topographic or place-name evidence to suggest a meeting place in Morthen parish (Parker 1986).A historic gathering place is more firmly identifiable at St John's Church, Throapham, situated less than a kilometre south-east of the historic core of Laughton village.St John's, and the stream that rises underneath the church, was the focus of a medieval midsummer pilgrimage for Morthen district on the saint's feast day (Jones 1986, 64).The building, the earliest fabric of which dates to the twelfth century, probably served as the parish church for Laughton before All Saint's appropriated the role, and may perpetuate an older site of veneration.St John's was the name given to one of Laughton's extensive open fields and it is clear that the church only served Throapham from a relatively late stage, as partly evidenced by its unusual location within a pronounced loop in the post-'Morthen' parochial arrangement (Figure 15).
Laughton district and the elite compound at its centre were perhaps no more than a century old by the time both underwent radical transformations brought by the Norman Conquest.The site of Earl Edwin's aula was fundamentally reconfigured by the new lord of the Honour of Tickhill, Roger de Busli, probably in the decade following the Conquest.Busli initiated construction of a substantial motte and heavily-embanked northern bailey (Figure 14).Excavation demonstrates a process of rapid infilling of earlier ditches with compact sand in a single or at least very short-lived phase, and construction of a defensive ditch that extended around the settlement to the east.This identification is significant given the rarity of defended villages in medieval England although most comparators are, like Laughton, essentially outworks of castles rather than genuinely communal defences akin to town walls (Creighton and Wright 2016, 236).
Appropriation of this seat of comital power by new Norman lords would have been deeply symbolic, resonating with the social and political changes that were in process during the eleventh century, but intriguingly there is little evidence that the castle at Laughton was used for any length of time.No material culture dating to the early Norman period has been recovered, and neither motte nor bailey were refurbished in stone.Indeed, it is questionable whether the castle was even occupied at all, and in this instance the actual process of castle construction in itself may have been its raison d'être, acting as a material 'seal' of new authority in the landscape.This would explain the paucity of medieval finds from the excavation, the castle having experienced little or no use because its primary purpose had already been met by its very building.If this was the case, then the motte and bailey at Laughton may have rapidly come to represent something akin to an earthwork folly; not an incomplete monument but an ornamental feature redolent with lordly authority and with little or no martial value.The effectiveness of the castle as an edifice to magnate power would have been emphasised by its location on a prominent ridge above the principal road of Icknield Street and visible from significant distances in several directions.
While the idea that later medieval landscapes were manipulated for aesthetic purposes is well-established (e.g.Creighton 2009), the very earliest castles of the eleventh and twelfth century are rarely subject to such interpretation, with scholars instead choosing to view them as primarily or exclusively military installations.That there is greater diversity in the form and function of earthwork castles is partly reflected in the large number of sites identified as 'unfinished', a term seemingly deployed when a monument defies easy categorisation or whose purpose is not immediately obvious (e.g.Renn 1959).Added to this are clear examples of early castles that cannot have been constructed with military expediency as the priority, as at Hamstead Marshall (Berkshire).Here, two motte and baileys situated a little over 100 m apart lie immediately adjacent to settlement earthworks at the base of a slope overlooking the River Kennet (Wright et al. 2016).The close proximity of the castles rule them out as siegeworks, and neither are on the higher ground to the south that offers the best strategic position.The more substantial motte and bailey, known as Castle III, has recently been dated to the late twelfth to early thirteenth century, making construction under the famous knight William Marshall highly likely (Leary et al. 2022, 22).If Castle III represents a successor to the smaller motte and bailey, as has been suggested (Myers 1932, 124;Bonney and Dunn 1989, 179;Wright et al. 2016, 94), then it seems that the earlier monument was deliberately retained nearby as a relict landscape feature.As at Laughton, a folly-type function seems probable, but alternatively the earthwork could have been used by Marshall as a life-sized set for military practice or wargaming.The late Philip Davis (pers.comm 2016) suggested something similar, viewing Castle III as a monument built for the visit of Henry III in 1218 and the retained earthwork as a stage for entertainment perhaps including a theatrical retelling of the siege of Newbury, during which the young Marshall had been threatened with being thrown into a castle via trebuchet.
Whatever the foremost motivations for building the castle at Laughton, not all components of the magnate core underwent immediate and comparable transformation.All Saints' would not be reconfigured until the early twelfth century, but that initially at least it remained a place worthy of investment by the incoming Norman elite is illustrated by the presence of the late eleventh-century grave cover.The Conquest did bring more immediate administrative changes, though, and these help to explain Laughton's rapid decline as estate centre and aristocratic power base.Subsumed into the newlycreated and more extensive honour of Blyth-Tickhill, the short-lived Morthen district ceased to exist by the end of the eleventh century and de novo centres (a priory at Blyth and an honorial caput at Tickhill) were founded to supersede Laughton.Curiously, Laughton was initially retained as a subsidiary to these more important places, surely in part due to its former administrative standing and association with a leading family of the English nobility (Creighton 2002, 107).A further explanation for Laughton's retention within the fee is that de Busli was hedging his bets, founding a number of centres that experienced uneven development following their establishment.Construction of the large defensive perimeter alongside the castle supports this view, alluding to investment in settlement expansion that never came.The downturn in Laughton's fortunes was accelerated by the contrasting success of Tickhill, a town located in Dadlsey manor, which was the only Yorkshire holding of de Busli that increased in value between 1066 and 1086 (Creighton 2002, 107).

Conclusion
The evolution of Laughton en le Morthen in the tenth to twelfth centuries may, in many ways, be typical of seigneurial power centres and their landscapes across much of England.But whereas the likelihood that existing elite foci were chosen for transformation by Norman tenants-in-chief has been repeatedly noted, attempts to demonstrate actual continuity of sites on the ground through archaeological evidence are rare.This research has illustrated the considerable potential provided by concerted study of a single site and its hinterland using diverse archaeological methods, and represents an approach that offers the chance for scholars to move beyond reliance on open area excavation to understand the origins and development of magnate cores.At Laughton various 'technologies' of aristocratic self-promotion were deployed on a number of scales, some of which were appropriated by new generations whilst others were discarded.Construction of the castle was undoubtedly a significant component in this suite, but one that previous research has arguably overamplified at the expense of other developments.At Laughton, the castle's primary and perhaps only function was being built, directly superimposed upon the earlier compound, the motte and bailey representing a seal of new authority in the landscape, and feasibly never even required for military purposes.Instead, the feature may have been curated as a type of folly, expressive of new lordly power but of little strategic significance.The motte and bailey, though, is just one component of a complex tapestry of evidence from Laughton some of which, such as the church and its fabric, points towards a vastly contrasting picture of continuity and sustained seigneurial patronage.The challenge for researchers now is to explore these dynamics on a much broader regional and national levels.This is the primary aim of the AHRC-funded [Grant Ref: AH/W001187/1] project Where power lies: the archaeology of transforming elite centres in the landscape of medieval England c. A.D. 800-1200.Using the work of Laughton as an exemplar, the project will undertake the first systematic examination of the materiality of elite centres in England.A central aim is to delineate further the kinds of elite technologies identified at Laughton, providing fresh insight into the character and chronology of aristocratic life across the Conquest.
examined the Dissolution of Urban Religious Houses in Yorkshire, and its impact on the early postmedieval townscape.
Michael Shapland is Senior Historic Buildings Archaeologist with Archaeology South-East (ASE), the commercial archaeology division of the Institute of Archaeology at University College London.He has extensive experience and has published widely on historic buildings and landscapes and church and castle archaeology, including the monograph 'Anglo-Saxon Towers of Lordship', (OUP 2019).

Figure 1 .
Figure 1.Location of Laughton en le Morthen in central Britain, and a detailed map of the historic core of the village, including the motte and bailey at Castle Hill and All Saints' Church.(Authors, containing OS data © Crown copyright and database right, 2022).

Figure 2 .
Figure 2. Areas chosen for earth resistance survey on Castle Hill.Only Area A is in a Scheduled Monument.(Authors).

Figure 4 .
Figure 4. Interpretation of potential archaeological features identified by the earth resistance survey (left) and topographic survey (right).A and B: low resistance linear anomalies, indicating a probable enclosure.C: double high-resistance linear anomalies of a potential building.D: high resistance anomaly of uncertain origin.E: high resistance anomaly, corresponding to the break in the bailey bank, probably indicating the remains of a gatehouse.(Authors).

Figure 5 .
Figure 5. Topographic survey of All Saints' Church and its churchyard.An earlier enclosure, orientated broadly west-east, can clearly be identified and is highlighted in the right-side image.(Authors).

Figure 6 .
Figure 6.Location of the evaluation trenches, over the results of the earth resistance survey.Trench 1 is orientated west-east, and Trench 2 north-south.Drawn by David Gould.(Authors, containing OS data © Crown copyright and database right, 2023).

Figure 7 .
Figure 7. Section photograph showing the rock-cut ditch located through targeted excavation.The scars where the upright timbers of the palisade have been levered out are visible at the base of the left-hand side of the ditch.(Authors).

Figure 8 .
Figure 8. Enclosure map of Laughton, dated to 1771.The rectilinear enclosure surrounding the historic core of the village is clearly visible, and has been verified archaeologically both by our excavation and through earlier intervention.The feature projects in a south-easterly direction from the church and castle, its furthest extent being crystalised in the property boundary of Hatfield and St Leger.(Photo by the author, reproduced with kind permission of Sheffield City Archives).

Figure 9 .
Figure 9.The porticus situated in a projection of the northern-side of the church tower of All Saints'.Into this later tenth or early eleventh-century feature, a smaller doorway was set perhaps during the twelfth century.(Authors).

Figure 10 .
Figure 10.Three plausible alternatives for the original layout of All Saints' church.Plan redrawn from Ryder 1982.(Michael Shapland).

Figure 11 .
Figure 11.The medieval grave cover, built into the external fragment of All Saints' Church.Probably dated to the second half of the eleventh century, the stone may have covered a burial of an individual from the first generation of Norman aristocrats.(Artwork by Pighill Archaeological Illustration).

Figure 12 .
Figure 12.Phase plan of the development of Laughton's magnate core, depicting pre-and post-conquest elements.(Artwork by Pighill Archaeological Illustration).

Figure 13 .
Figure13.Reconstruction drawing of the aristocratic centre in the late tenth or early eleventh century.The residential hall complex, built by Earl Edwin or one of his predecessors, was surrounded by a substantial banked, ditched, and palisaded enclosure.Adjoining this compound, a church located within its own enclosure acted as a private, status-affording chapel for the elite families.(Artwork by Pighill Archaeological Illustration).

Figure 14 .
Figure 14.Reconstruction drawing of the aristocratic centre in the later eleventh century.The residential component of Edwin's complex was radically transformed by construction of the motte and bailey but All Saint's Church remained and continued to receive elite patronage.(Artwork by Pighill Archaeological Illustration).

Figure 15 .
Figure 15.The medieval parish of Laughton en le Morthen, extending over a large area and incorporating numerous dependent settlements and chapelries.The parish seems to have perpetuated the earlier administrative district of 'Morthen'.(Redrawn by David Gould from Hey 1979, 39).

Paul
Everson an archaeologist and landscape historian, formerly of the Royal Commission on Historic Monuments of England and English Heritage, is an Honorary Lecturer at the University of Keele.He has published on a diverse range of subjects from gardens to gunpowder production, most notably his long-standing collaboration with David Stocker on volumes of the Corpus of Anglo-Saxon Stone Sculpture.David Stocker formerly of English Heritage, is an Honorary Visiting Professor at the University of Leeds and a Trustee and Board member of the National Lottery Heritage Fund.He has published many books and articles on medieval architecture, archaeology and landscape.Earlier research with Paul Everson produced books on the 'ritual landscape' of the Witham Valley (2011) and early Romanesque church towers (2006).ORCID Duncan W. Wright http://orcid.org/0000-0002-1793-7428