In 1923 the British Museum purchased the series of barbaric ornaments and jewels in the collection of the late General Bertier Delagarde, a well-known Russian archaeologist. The acquisition was made in order to secure a more worthy representation of the culture from which the industrial art of the early Teutonic tribes, including that of the Anglo-Saxons, derived its most characteristic features. We are now able to see in proximity examples illustrating the first and last stages in a long process of development, and observe the marked identity of style in the work of peoples separated from each other in time by three or four centuries, in space by the whole length of Europe. The two plates demonstrate this identity by an instant appeal to the eye. All that is required in addition is a brief indication of the source from which this far-travelling style was derived.

The great tower of Dudley Castle, in the West Midlands, is re-examined in order to situate it within the evolutionary sequence of great tower designs. In so doing, it is argued that the origins of its plan are to be found in the works of the early to mid-thirteenth century, and that the tower itself was probably begun during the 1260s. Furthermore, it is asserted that the tower represents a milestone in the thinking that underpinned the redevelopment of castle mottes, and that it is to be seen as the prime connection between the circle-based plans that dominated motte redevelopments in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and later developments that led, ultimately, to the radically different, but architecturally successful scheme adopted by the builder of the donjon of Warkworth Castle in Northumberland.

Antequera, in southern Spain, is in the province of Malaga, a little more than twenty miles north of the city of that name, the nearest point on the coast. The town lies at the foot of the mountains, overlooking a large and fertile plain; while just outside it, near the road to Granada, are three tombs which are notable in several ways. Two of them are less than a kilometre distant, the third lies farther away in the plain itself (pl. liii, I).

Perhaps the most striking feature of this comparatively isolated group is their marked dissimilarity from each other in type, one being a good representative of the ' cupola tombs' of Iberia; another, a simple long megalithic chamber and antechamber, built on a large scale; while the third, with its holed stone entrances, recalls the allées couvertes of the Paris region.

One feature they share, however, which does not seem to have been satisfactorily recorded, namely that each is contained in a large round barrow. All three barrows are formed of natural hillocks which have been scarped and shaped to form symmetrical circular tumuli.

This paper explores links between the archaeology of cauldron deposition during the European Iron Age and the mythology of cauldrons as presented in the early vernacular texts of Wales and Ireland. During the last millennium BC, cauldrons were apparently the focus of repeated ceremonial activity, involving their deliberate deposition in watery contexts. Evidence for such cauldron deposits comes from all over temperate Europe. The medieval mythic texts of Wales and Ireland contain references to cauldrons as instruments of death and resurrection. Models are proposed to explain the possible link between allusions to sacred cauldrons found in the early vernacular myths and their presence in archaeological contexts. It may be that redactors of myth were influenced in their writings by observation of ancient cauldrons either in situ or recovered from watery sites, or that they may have learnt about them through oral tradition.

The investigation described in the following paper may perhaps throw some light on the nature of those remarkable sepulchral mounds, known as “long barrows,” which as yet remain the crux and problem of the barrow-digger and archæologist. Many of the long barrows of South Wiltshire were examined at the beginning of this century by Mr. Cunnington and Sir Richard Colt Hoare; but with so little return for the pains bestowed on them, that, though Sir Richard was satisfied of their high antiquity, he was utterly at a loss to determine the purpose for which such immense mounds had been raised. In another part of his “Ancient Wiltshire,” he tells us that he and his colleague “had at length given up all researches in them, having for many years in vain looked for that information which might tend to throw some satisfactory light on their history.” In the various long barrows which were opened by these investigators, we find that, with very few exceptions, human skeletons were discovered on the floor of the barrow, at the broad, or east end, “lying in a confused and irregular manner, and generally covered with a pile of stones or flints.” The total absence of bronze weapons, of all personal ornaments, and of urns of pottery, such as were constantly found by them in the circular barrows of the same district, is repeatedly noticed by Sir Richard Hoare, who observes that “their original purport is still involved in obscurity, and a further explanation of them would be a great desideratum.”