by Tim Flannery
If Knepp is to serve as a beacon for other wilding initiatives, a way must be found to make such projects economically sustainable, and even here the Trees are making progress. With costs sharply down, they are finding profit in renting out farm buildings, running tours and growing meat for specialised markets. The Knepp longhorns produce beef of exceptional quality. Pasture-fed, it has high levels of antioxidants and of omega-3 fatty acids, which protect against heart disease. Cattle produced by intensive farming such as on feedlots have low levels of omega-3. Eating their meat can be detrimental to human health.
As Tree says, ‘The implications of these findings are enormous. We should not be cutting out animal fats from our diet’ but eating ‘the right sort of animal fat.’ The same may well be true of milk. And the shift brings environmental benefits as well. Cattle grown on wilded pastures produce less methane from flatulence and belching, in part because they get more fumaric acid in their diet. The trade-off is that the Knepp longhorns grow slowly compared with cattle in feedlots, and there are few of them. If all of Britain ranched like Knepp, beef would be in short supply and expensive.
But it is not just humans we should consider. The Knepp cattle lead lives largely free of interference and similar to that of their wild ancestors. When they need to be tested for TB or otherwise treated, they are rounded up with the techniques pioneered by the Oregon rancher Bud Williams. Quiet, gentle and slow, these techniques encourage them to move in ways that minimise stress, and the American animal behaviour consultant Temple Grandin has advised the Trees on minimising stress in their small abattoir.
Knepp’s Tamworth pigs are also slaughtered for meat, and the Trees long for the day that a market can be found for the meat of their Exmoor ponies. To prevent their overpopulation, Isabella had to have the stallions castrated. It was a ghastly process, depriving her of the joy of seeing foals, ‘but most lowering of all [was] to watch the herd lose its dynamism, stress levels falling to virtually zero, the spark of natural interaction and acquired wisdom halted in its tracks—a “wild” animal going nowhere’.
In some circumstances, wilded land can pay its way simply by helping avoid costs. The Ennerdale Valley in the Lake District was one of the most flood-prone places in Britain. But when, with help from the Forestry Commission, the surrounding hills were allowed to revegetate, runoff was slowed, and more water was absorbed into the soil. The villagers of Pickering in the North Yorks Moors noticed and followed the example. On Boxing Day 2015, it rained for twenty-four hours, and devastating floods occurred across northern England. But at Pickering all was well, in part because the water was being absorbed into the soil sixty-seven times faster than it would have on heavily grazed land. Floods cost the UK economy an average of £1.1 billion per year—the 2015 Boxing Day floods alone cost £5 billion. The total cost of the work that saved Pickering was only £2 million.
Wilding is both a timely and important book. A 2016 survey revealed that Britain was ranked twenty-ninth out of 218 countries examined for nature depletion. But Wilding may come too late for some species, such as the turtledove. Despite an increase in numbers at Knepp, it seems to be in terminal decline in Britain. Isabella Tree imagines the last migrating turtledove departing Knepp and flying over a Europe ‘that is being recolonised by beavers, wolves, wolverines, jackals and bears’. And it is in that changing landscape that hope resides.
Neanderthals
2018
THE ‘MAMMOTH FAUNA’, which is so evocative of ice-age Europe, first evolved during the Anglian glaciation, around the time the Neanderthals reached Europe; so that in our minds Neanderthals, mammoths and other ice-age fauna are forever associated. By 400,000 years ago some Neanderthals had pushed north into Europe and Asia, where eventually they spread as far east as the Altai Mountains, preying on mammoths, reindeer, horses and other species. The early Neanderthals (who existed 400,000 to 200,000 years ago) have been referred to variously as Homo heidelbergensis, Homo erectus or Homo neanderthalensis. I will call them early Neanderthals. They were slightly shorter than us, though their brains were about the same size as ours. Later Neanderthals, in contrast, had larger brains than those of people living today (though their bodies were larger as well). We tend to think of Neanderthals as primitive beings with a crude material culture. But six superbly crafted wooden spears discovered in a peat deposit near Schöningen in Germany and thought to have been made by early Neanderthals give the lie to this idea. Wooden tools do not generally fossilise well, so these spears provide a rare insight into Neanderthal wood technology. Made between 300,000 and 337,000 years ago, they were probably used to hunt horses. What is remarkable about them is their degree of sophistication. They are weighted towards the front and have finely crafted points: replicas performed as well as the best modern javelins, travelling up to seventy metres.1
Neanderthals also mastered the technology required to create adhesive pitch from tree bark. The earliest evidence was found in Italy and dates from between 200,000 and 300,000 years ago. This is long before Homo sapiens independently invented adhesives. Pitch manufacture requires foresight and the manipulation of materials and temperature (with the more sophisticated methods yielding far more than simple ones).2 Researchers think that sophisticated methods were deployed in a manufacturing process requiring much preparation. Pitch is important in that it is used, among other things, to haft flint heads on wooden spears, creating highly effective weapons.3
A particularly rich haul of 5500 early Neanderthal bones, dating back 300,000 years and belonging to at least thirty-two individuals, has been recovered from the Sima de los Huesos site in the Atapuerca Mountains in Spain. The bones, many of which are from juveniles, were found at the bottom of a vertical shaft, where they form 75 per cent of all the remains found there, the rest mostly being ancestral cave bears and carnivores that may have been lured into the pitfall by the smell of rotting flesh. A single, beautiful red quartzite axe, made from materials sourced far away from the site was also found in the pit. Some researchers believe that the bones result from the disposal of corpses—a form of burial—and that the quartzite axe was a ritual offering to the dead.4 If that’s correct, it represents the oldest evidence found anywhere for care of the dead.
By about 200,000 years ago the ‘classic’ Neanderthal type—with its large nose, oversized brain and powerful body—had emerged. Neanderthals and Homo sapiens are extremely similar genetically, sharing 99.7 per cent of their DNA (by way of comparison, humans and chimpanzees share 98.8 per cent of their DNA). Because of this similarity, and the ability of humans and Neanderthals to interbreed, many writers refer to Neanderthals as humans. But doing so leaves us with no easy way to distinguish our own distinctive human type. So I will reserve the term ‘human’ for Homo sapiens.
The first Neanderthal remains to receive scientific attention were bones unearthed by quarry workers in 1856, in Feldhofer Cave in the Neander Valley, near Dusseldorf. They were passed on to savants, who made various suggestions about their identity. One thought that they were the last mortal remains of an Asiatic soldier who had died serving the czar in the Napoleonic Wars, while another thought that they were from an ancient Roman. Yet another identified them as belonging to a Dutchman.
In 1864, following publication of Darwin’s Origin, the bones came to the attention of the geologist William King, then working at Queen’s College, Galway. He described them, bestowing on them the name Homo neanderthalensis. Shortly after, King changed his mind, averring that the bones should not be placed in the genus Homo because they came from a creature that was incapable of ‘moral and theistic conceptions’.5 Despite his equivocation, King’s name for the bones was published, and a good thing too, for the German biologist Ernst Haeckel was also studying the bones, and his suggested name for them was ghastly.
Haeckel was an extremely capable scientist who constructed the first comprehensive tree of life, named thousands of species, and coined such phrases as ‘stem cell’, and ‘First World War’. But in 1866
he published the name Homo stupidus for the Neanderthal fossils, which—I cannot refrain from saying—reveals a certain lack of tact.6* Under the rules of the International Code of Zoological Nomenclature, King’s name Homo neanderthalensis (despite his second thoughts) has priority, and so it is the one used today.
Most evidence of Neanderthal life comes from sites dating to the last 130,000 years, by which time the Neanderthals had become exquisitely adapted to the demanding European ice-age environment. With males weighing an average of seventy-eight kilograms, and females sixty-six kilograms, analysis of the chemical composition of their bones reveals that they were obligate carnivores. Their refuse dumps show that their main prey were red deer, reindeer, wild boar and aurochs, though they occasionally tackled more challenging species such as young cave bears, rhinos and elephants.7 In extreme circumstances they would, however, eat a little plant matter and fungus, as well as each other: twelve skeletons from El Sidrón Cave in Spain, bearing marks of death blows and defleshing, offer clear evidence of cannibalism.
Like many other carnivores, Neanderthals favoured caves as home sites, and were doubtless able to eject competitors from preferred lairs. There is ample evidence that they had mastered fire, and their tools indicate that they crudely prepared furs, perhaps to wear as cloaks, though they did not make fitted clothing. Their cave-dwelling habits, fire and cloaks were essential in allowing them to occupy much of Europe south of the ice.8
Genetic studies indicate that there were no more than 70,000 Neanderthals at any one time, and that they were spread thinly across all western Europe.9 The genome of a female from Croatia has revealed low genetic diversity, as a result of existing as part of a small, isolated subpopulation over multiple generations. One female whose remains were found in the Altai Mountains of Asia was highly inbred—a half-brother and sister being her parents—though this was not characteristic of all Neanderthal groups.10 The bones of the dozen cannibalised individuals found in El Sidrón appear to be the remains of a family group that had been surprised, perhaps in their cave, before being killed and eaten. Forensic DNA analysis of their bones revealed that the males were closely related, but the females were not. This implies that Neanderthals were similar to many recent and current human societies, in which the females leave their extended-family groups to marry into other groups.11
Neanderthals were immensely strong, and many skeletons show signs of injury consistent with mishaps incurred while hunting large mammals with hand-wielded weapons. Despite their large brains, their foreheads receded sharply, and their eyes were shaded beneath pronounced bony brow ridges. They had barrel chests, which may have helped them retain body heat, and large noses that were probably useful for filtering ice-age dust, as well as warming the air they inhaled. Just how hairy they were remains conjectural. Analysis of DNA indicates that their skin was pale, their eyes often blue, and their hair red.12
The eyes of Neanderthals were larger than ours, as by some measures were their brains.13* In modern humans, we consider these positive attributes. The question of Neanderthal brain size, however, has come into dispute, one group of researchers arguing that a larger proportion of the Neanderthal brain than our own was concerned with vision, and that therefore less of it was involved with other functions. The same study posits that Neanderthals were larger than modern humans, and that therefore their brains were smaller relatively than ours.14 Even if this is so, we are left with irresistible questions: how did those large blue eyes see the world, and what did that undoubtedly able brain make of it? Alas, archaeology can only go so far towards answering them.
Did Neanderthals bury their dead? Sarah Schwarz of the University of Southampton claims that their burial practices were widespread. But the evidence she cites, including defleshing and the concentration of bones in niches, could also result from cannibalism or natural processes.15 Whatever the case, a lack of complex burial practices may not denote a lack of affection for the deceased. Among some African herders, a corpse was sometimes placed outside the thorn-bush fence surrounding the settlement. In the morning, the deceased had become new life, in the form of a hyena.
Neanderthal art at least 65,000 years old, and possibly much older, has recently been identified at three sites in Spain. Hand stencils, ladder-shaped designs and abstract shapes, all in red ochre, have been documented, but there are no depictions of animals.16 Evidence of personal adornment is also scant, important exceptions being 118,000-year-old perforated and painted seashells from Spain, and 130,000-year-old white-tailed eagle talons discovered in a rock shelter in Croatia that had been modified in ways suggesting that they were strung on a necklace.17 Somewhat more speculatively, a number of vulture wing bones found in caves on Gibraltar has led some researchers to believe that Neanderthals living there used vulture feathers as adornments.
The discovery in Bruniquel Cave in south-western France of two ring-like structures (the largest 6.7 metres across) and six raised structures made from about 400 large, carefully broken-off and stacked stalagmites astonished scientists when it was published in 2016. All were built in a cavern that is in total darkness more than 300 metres from the cave entrance. The space must have been artificially lit, and there is abundant evidence for the use of fire around the stone circles.18 Stalactites grow, so the moment they were broken off can be precisely dated—to 176,000 years ago, allowing no room for doubt that the work was done by Neanderthals. The purpose of the structures remains unknown; some speculate that they were the backdrop for some sort of ritual, while others think that they were merely part of a shelter. Whatever the case, they underline the fact that the Neanderthals were capable of great works and that much remains to be discovered about them.
Another aspect of Neanderthal culture is highly revealing of their inner lives. Neanderthals killed cave bears (often cubs) perhaps ambushing them as they emerged from hibernation. This could have been done from strategic points in cave systems, where it was possible to drive off the adults with fire or spears. Whatever the hunt methodology, Neanderthals have left extraordinary evidence of what has been dubbed ‘the cult of the cave bear’ throughout Europe.
One of the most striking examples was discovered in Romania’s Altar Stone Cave in the Bihor mountains of Transylvania in 1984. Cavers from Politehnică Cluj explored the spectacular cave, whose vast chambers with their titanic stalactites and delicate cave ornaments pierce through an entire mountain. In his account of the discovery, Cristian Lascu writes of crawling, swimming and walking through the cave for a day and a night before reaching the site.
The bear’s cemetery made its sudden appearance before us, in a horizontal passage with vaulted ceilings with hanging tubular stalactites of impressive sizes. First, we saw a small skull, covered in popcorn concretions. Then two more, with long bones in front of the snout. Further away, in a depression of the floor, there was the skull of an adult bear measuring almost half a metre, and in a niche we found a mix of jaws, skulls and vertebrae. Next to this a large number of skulls belonging to young and adult bears were hardly visible under a thick layer of calcite. Four of them attracted our attention: they were arranged in a tight formation, with the occipital towards the interior, making a sort of imperfect cross.19
The arrangement of four juvenile cave bear skulls in a cross, along with limb bones placed in front of adult skulls cannot have been accidental. Similar finds have been made in other European caves and it is thought that the placement of a limb bone in front of the cranium, and the cross-like or back-to-back arrangements of juvenile skulls, which are sometimes surrounded with pieces of flint, were part of an appeasement ceremony by Neanderthals.
Human hunters from many cultures have performed ceremonies involving the skulls of bear species. After a successful polar bear hunt, for example, the dead bear is treated with the greatest respect by Arctic hunters. ‘Don’t be offended,’ the Chukchi hunter says to the dead bear, while the neighbouring Yupiit explain that they are only taking the bear’s muscle and fur, not killing it, fo
r the soul of the beast lives on. Elsewhere, gifts are presented to the skulls of slain bears—knives and harpoon heads to males, and needles and beads to females.20 In some instances, ‘altars’ are set up, on which the bear skulls and gifts are laid out. These arrays are similar to the juvenile bear-skull arrangements, with their associated flint tools, left by Neanderthals.
There is a mystery surrounding these Neanderthal bear skull placements. The near-perfect state of preservation of many of the skulls is characteristic of individuals that have died during hibernation and decomposed, undisturbed, in the cave. Skulls of hunted bears often show cut marks or other damage absent on these skulls. So it seems likely that the arranged bones are from bears that died naturally. Appeasement may therefore have involved what the Neanderthals saw as the cave bear family (including both living and dead individuals), rather than just the individual they had hunted. If so, this reveals a sophisticated comprehension of kinship.
The Neanderthals present a profound enigma. Although large-brained and stronger than us, their material culture remained rudimentary. It is striking that the great Neanderthal achievements—including jewellery (dated to 118,000 and 130,000 years ago) and stalactite structures (176,000 years ago)—are so very ancient. We’ve discovered nothing like them from the last 80,000 years of Neanderthal existence; yet the great majority of Neanderthal sites date to this later interval. Did the Neanderthals suffer a sort of cultural simplification? An informative parallel example can be seen in Tasmania’s Aborigines. As explained by Jared Diamond in Guns, Germs and Steel, following their isolation from other Aboriginal groups as rising seas flooded Bass Strait about 10,000 years ago, the Tasmanian population of a few thousand lost the ability to make bone needles (and thus the ability to sew rugs) and possibly the knowledge required to make fire. If just one or a few individuals in a group know how to make or do certain things, the technology can be lost when they die. Genetic studies have confirmed that the Neanderthal population was small and fragmented. A loss of technologies over time may have resulted from isolation and small population size.