The purpose of this paper is to present some facts that appear to have been under-estimated or overlooked in the consideration of the graves of the Early Bronze Age in the Wessex region, that is, the material remains of the ‘Wessex culture’. We are not concerned in this paper with the evidence or non-evidence for connexions between the Wessex region and Mycenae (Renfrew, 1968), nor do we consider that anything new can be stated about the ‘radiocarbon age’ or the calendar year age for he Wessex graves, particularly in view of the fact that no radiocarbon dates are available for this material. What we intend to show is that the division of the Wessex graves into a traditional Early Bronze Age I and 2, and the duration of these presumed episodes, are open to question.

Among the commoner, and certainly among the most distinctive, Roman coins found in Britain are the quinarius ship-issues of Allectus—found in Britain and of course minted here. They seem to merit more comment than they have roused so far.

The linear shape of a galley does not accommodate itself to the circular shape of a coin, and Roman galley coins rate high marks for ineptitude. Prows or sterns by themselves, shown not for their own interest but as items in some larger symbolic concept, are tolerably well done. But with complete vessels we find stem-posts and stern-posts as high as the keel is long, boats shaped like bananas or like staples, and galleys fringed with so many indeterminate oars that they looklike centipedes. Some of the Allectus reverses are of this slovenly class (Mattingly and Sydenham, 1933, pl. xix, no. 16), but the better ones—and they are numerous—show a recognizable and seaworthy vessel.

Like Bibby’s two previous books, Looking for Dilmun is written for the general public. It is an account of the research carried out by a large team of Danish scholars, led by P. V. Glob and Bibby himself, in the Arab states on the Persian Gulf. The expeditions began seventeen years ago, and have been both intensive and productive: over the years, they have yielded an impressive amount of material which, with only a few gaps, now covers almost the whole cultural sequence of the Arab coast and its islands.

Alfred Russel Wallace visited southern Celebes in 18567. Captivated by its unique natural history, particularly its colourful butterflies, he concentrated upon collecting in the rugged limestone mountains around Bantimurung waterfall, east of Maros. Observing that the high, precipitous, cliffs were heavily vegetated, Wallace (1890, 181) wrote words of archaeological allurement—‘their surfaces are very irregular, broken into holes and fissures, with ledges overhanging the mouths of gloomy caverns’. He also made an incidental comment (1890, 165) of relevance a century later to Australian archaeologists, when he noted that his Makassarese servant had voyaged to the north Australian coast on several occasions to collect trepang (bêche-de-mer).

Few archaeologists (or prehistorians) would agree on a comprehensive definition of their science. There is not even a unanimous answer to the question whether it deserves the proud (or debasing?) designation ‘science’. Anyway, most of those who feel themselves concerned with modern archaeology would presumably admit that this peculiar human activity has two important aspects. First, it is connected with the study of material remains left behind by ancient man. Secondly, its aim is to recover at least some aspects of man’s past, mainly those unrecorded by written documents.