The Ancient Stone Implements, Weapons and Ornaments, of Great Britain Second Edition, Revised — Reading Companion

A Taxonomy of Stone and Folk Belief

Evans's cataloguing method is both scientific and anecdotal. For spindle-whorls, he records dimensions—'from an inch to an inch and a half in diameter, but occasionally as much as from two to three inches'—and notes variations in finish, from lathe-turned to 'very rough and not truly circular.' Yet he also documents folk names: in Cornwall they are 'Pisky grinding-stones,' in North Britain 'Pixy-wheels,' in Ireland 'Fairy mill-stones.' The same objects are called clach-nathrach (adder-stones) in Scotland, believed to cure snake bites. This dual attention to physical description and cultural attribution gives the work a layered texture, where a single artifact can be both a measurable object and a vessel of local legend.

The Evidence of Wear and Use

Evans does not merely list objects; he interprets traces of use. Discussing perforated stone discs, he cites Sir Wollaston Franks's suggestion that some served as 'dress-fasteners or buttons,' noting that a specimen from South Wales 'has evidently had a cord passed through it, as the edges of the hole in the centre are much worn by friction.' He distinguishes between 'thin discs of stone with small central holes not parallel, but tapering from both faces' and 'rougher kind' that may have been 'plummets or net-sinkers.' This attention to wear patterns—drilling techniques, polish from handling, friction marks—reveals a forensic approach to material culture, inferring function from physical evidence rather than assumption.

Pace and the Reader's Path

Evans explicitly designs the book for two reading speeds. The preface advises that 'the ordinary reader' may 'confine himself to the larger type and an examination of the illustrations,' while smaller-type passages contain 'the bulk of the descriptive details of little interest.' This typographical stratification creates a variable pace: the main narrative flows through broader conclusions and regional summaries, while the fine print offers dense catalogues of find-spots, dimensions, and comparative notes. The effect is a text that can be skimmed for overview or mined for specifics, mirroring the way an archaeologist might survey a landscape before focusing on individual artifacts.

Readers approaching this edition should note that Evans's voice is that of a Victorian gentleman-scholar, weaving personal correspondence and local folklore into a systematic survey. The second edition's revisions—though not detailed in the excerpts—likely reflect two decades of accumulating finds. To navigate the work effectively, follow the typographic cues: the larger type carries the argument, while the smaller type holds the data. This is not a narrative history but a reference work that rewards selective reading, where each object is a node in a network of sites, collectors, and beliefs.

Rain dripped down the pane as I turned pages about spindle-whorls and Pixy-wheels, Evans’s patient naming of humble stones. That same unhurried devotion to cataloguing a life’s quiet struggles reminds me of another long patience—volumes of Frederick’s endless wars. I set the stones aside, and reached for History of Friedrich II of Prussia — Volume 07 — Reading Notes, the rain still falling.