Cuween Hill - my favorite tomb

What's on this page?

Archaeology: what we found at the tomb and village

Folklore at the fairy hill

Visit the ancestors

What did we find in Stonehall - the Neolithic settlement below the cairn?

Memory of a dig

Tom Muir

In the early 90s, the excavation at Barnhouse near the Stones of Stenness was drawing to an end. My friend, Dr Colin Richards, asked me if we would host an evening for the public at the Orkney museum, where I work. People were asked to bring in artefacts they'd found on their land for identification. 

The event turned up some interesting pieces, but not what Colin was looking for. He had hoped that there might be a large collection of flint, either worked pieces or debitage - flakes that result from flint knapping. When an archaeologist finds a large flint scatter, he knows the home of the ancient flint knapper must be nearby.

Just as we were about to close for the evening an elderly gentleman arrived, clutching a small tin box. This was what Colin had been looking for – a huge collection of flints. Ronnie Flett of Stonehall in Firth told us that these flints had been collected by his father from one spot in a field where he ploughed with horses.

This field, Ronnie said, was just below Cuween Hill Tomb. He then produced half a cushion macehead that he'd discovered near the tomb.

He had our attention.

A geophysical survey of the corner of the field showed structures just inches under the soil. The land rose into a slight mound over this spot. In 1994 a small team started excavations. 

Our first find was an early Neolithic house from around 5,500 years ago. At the time, this discovery was quite a rarity in Orkney. The house was rectangular with rounded ends, divided into two rooms by upright flagstones.

We later discovered another early Neolithic house. I explored a ditch between these houses, revealing the floor level of a house and pieces of Unstan Ware pottery in use at this period.

We made another exciting discovery on top of a natural mound nestled in the slopes of the hill above the site - another well preserved early Neolithic house.  Further exploration revealed two more houses.

The first was in a prime location, but little of it survived. A second house had been built beside it, but not over it. This too had been demolished, leaving only the bottom courses of stone and the stone sill that defined the threshold of the house.

Inside were the remains of the hearth - incredibly, still containing the ashes from its last fires.

Old Orkney lore says that it's bad luck to let your fire go out. The luck of the house depends on the hearth fire burning continuously. I wonder if the carefully preserved hearth was an ancient example of this tradition?

Beside this house on a sloping site was a well-preserved house. It seemed to us that every time a house went out of use it was demolished and another one built, but not directly over the earlier one. 

Down in the original field, next to the first of the early houses, was a late Neolithic site, dating from around 5,000 years ago. There we found a badly damaged house of the Skara Brae type - square, with rounded corners. This house had fallen foul of farming. The stones dislodged by the plough had been long ago carted off the field.

A second house here was much better preserved, and told a unique story.

Though the house was of standard size, the floor level was higher than it should have been. This compacted clay covered the floor of the whole building. Curiusly, the house lacked the dresser, beds and hearth that we expected to find. Instead, there was a pit in the centre where the hearth should have been. In the place of the dresser and beds were three "cists", each pit covered with a slab.

One cist yielded several large flint blades and scrapers, but another was even more interesting. Colin suggested that we lift the slab I was working on. We carefully tilted it back. A stone grinder, shaped like a stone bun with a flat bottom, was stuck to the underside of the slab.

My friend Colin has a reputation for being a lucky digger - ‘jammy’ is the word we use. As we placed the stone on the side of the trench, Colin said, “Better check the edges for decoration.” I examined the slab while Colin grabbed my trowel and dug into the cist.

I heard a gasp. I looked up from my work and saw Colin holding a beautiful white quartz axe. It sparkled like ice in the first sunlight this beautiful thing had seen for 5,000 years. The axe was not quite finished, and of no practical use as an axe. The quartz would have shattered. 

The fact that the axe was put into the cist sets it aside as special in some way: was it considered a very valuable item ... a status symbol ... symbolic ... ritualistic? We'll never know.

More importantly, why did that jammy Colin have to find it, and not me?

Not that I'm bitter.

Neolithic sites are steeped in mystery. In many ways, we simply don't understand all that we uncover. We can't help but see through modern eyes, but there were very different people once living in Orkney.

What I remember most about the Stonehall dig was standing in a house that had once contained household furnishings, later to be altered into a sacred place. Maybe the transformation came after the death of the person who lived there? 

I looked up at Cuween Hill Tomb, silhouetted against the skyline. That tomb dominated the village. It seemed a powerful statement of belonging.

The people who lived here could point to the tomb and say, “This land is ours, for our ancestors stand guard over our village.”

Note: A torch (flashlight) is left outside in a box for visitors to use. However, since we often find it stone dead, we recommend bringing your own, or use the light on your phone.