The Age of Stonehenge

In Short

This brief, investigative pamphlet serves as a rebuttal to theories that suggest Stonehenge was built in the post-Roman era. By analyzing archaeological findings—specifically the contents of surrounding burial mounds and the presence of stone chippings—the author argues that the site is a vastly older temple dedicated to early, pagan forms of worship. It remains a significant historical document because it captures a Victorian-era scholarly debate, reflecting the evolution of archaeological thought as researchers transitioned from speculative history to the systematic observation of physical evidence.

The Story

The narrative begins with a fundamental, persistent question: when was Stonehenge built? The author immediately addresses the prevailing, yet flawed, "post-Roman" theory championed by James Fergusson. Fergusson had argued that the monument was constructed around 466 A.D. to commemorate the slaughter of British chiefs by Hengist. The author methodically dissects this theory, labeling it a reliance on the dubious accounts of Geoffrey of Monmouth—a "fabulist of the most exuberant imagination." He argues that Fergusson’s logic is circular and intellectually dishonest, specifically regarding the discovery of Roman pottery within the site. The author counters that the presence of Roman artifacts is merely indicative of later, incidental activity—perhaps Romano-British picnics—rather than evidence of the builders' identity.

The argument then shifts to the surrounding landscape, specifically the approximately 300 burial barrows that crowd the plain. The author highlights that these mounds are strictly pre-Roman, containing no Roman coins, weapons, or ornaments. He posits that the placement of these barrows is not accidental; rather, it is a deliberate choice by ancient peoples to ensure the final resting places of their chieftains were within sight of the great temple. Through his own observations, the author notes that from the summits of these mounds, one almost always gains a clear view of the stones.

The most compelling evidence, however, emerges from the physical remnants found within the barrows themselves. The author points to the work of Sir R. C. Hoare, who discovered fragments of the "blue stones" (the distinct syenitic or green stone class of the monument) buried beneath the base of these tumuli. Because these chips are debris from the shaping of the stones for the temple, their presence beneath the barrows proves that the temple must have existed before the mounds were constructed. By connecting the age of the barrows to the creation of the temple, the author establishes that Stonehenge is, without a doubt, a relic of a far more ancient, pagan past.

The narrative concludes by rejecting the notion that Stonehenge is a mere monument to a local skirmish. Instead, the author champions the idea that the structure represents an "irresistible" testament to the religious instinct of our Celtic or Belgic ancestors. He views the immense labor required to transport and erect the sarsens as proof of a profound, devotional purpose—likely the worship of the Sun or Baal. This conclusion serves to restore the monument's dignity, lifting it from a historical footnote to a central pillar of ancient, pre-Christian civilization in Britain.

How It Unfolds

The challenge of history The author introduces the central mystery of the site, arguing that while the exact date of construction may remain elusive, we can confidently place its origins before the arrival of the Roman legions.

Dismantling the opposition The focus turns to the flawed research of James Fergusson, whose reliance on medieval legends and misinterpretation of Roman pottery is exposed as intellectually weak and biased.

The landscape as evidence The narrative moves to the surrounding barrows, demonstrating that the placement of these burial mounds was intentionally aligned with the temple, suggesting a sacred connection between the dead and the site.

The smoking gun Crucial archaeological proof is presented: the discovery of stone chippings from the monument itself found buried at the base of the barrows, proving that the temple predates the graves.

A final affirmation The argument concludes by asserting that only the "religious instinct" of a pagan people provides an adequate motive for the superhuman effort required to build such a structure, securing its status as a timeless relic of antiquity.

The People

The text centers on three key figures: the author, the archaeologist Sir R. C. Hoare, and the opposing theorist James Fergusson. The author acts as the guide and critic, a man who desires to restore the monument’s historical gravity and protect it from what he views as a reductive, post-Roman misinterpretation. He stands in opposition to James Fergusson, a contemporary scholar who seeks to tether the stones to a specific, later historical event involving Hengist. Fergusson is portrayed as a man who prioritizes imaginative, if inaccurate, storytelling over the rigorous interpretation of physical data.

In contrast, Sir R. C. Hoare emerges as the objective hero of the piece. His meticulous records, particularly his work in "Ancient Wilts," provide the evidentiary foundation for the author’s case. Hoare does not appear as a character with his own agenda, but rather as the provider of cold, hard facts—pottery fragments, arrowheads, and stone chippings—that allow the author to build his logical wall. While Fergusson ends up appearing misguided by his reliance on ancient, unreliable myths, the author is vindicated by the evidence left behind by the patient, methodical work of explorers like Hoare and his predecessor, Mr. Cunnington.

In Its Own Voice

"The mystery which enwraps it in this respect adds not a little to the imposing grandeur of those weather-beaten stones."

The author reflects on why the lack of a definitive date for Stonehenge contributes to its enduring, awe-inspiring presence.

"The observing faculty and the faculty for drawing correct conclusions do not always meet in the same individual."

In a critique of modern archaeological overreach, the author explains why he believes James Fergusson failed to interpret the data found at the site.

"There is no motive we know of so powerful as what may be termed 'the religious instinct.'"

The author argues that only a profound, spiritual drive could explain the massive, labor-intensive effort required to construct the monument.

What It's Really About

At its heart, this work is a defense of early human capability and spirituality against the encroachment of modern, reductive historical theories. The author is deeply concerned with the "religious instinct" as a primary driver of human progress and monumental architecture. He argues against the tendency to assume that ancient, pre-literate peoples were incapable of sophisticated, long-term collective projects. By placing Stonehenge in a pre-Roman context, he elevates the stature of the "Celtic or Belgic forefathers," suggesting that their devotion and technical skill equaled, or perhaps even surpassed, the achievements of the Roman era. It is a plea to view the past with veneration rather than skepticism.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in the history of archaeology will find this text fascinating. It captures a specific moment when scholarship was shifting from anecdotal observation toward the rigorous, data-driven analysis that defines the field today. The tone is formal, polite, and deeply earnest, characteristic of nineteenth-century intellectual discourse. It feels like stepping into a Victorian drawing-room debate, where the author speaks directly to the reader, pulling them into the logic of his argument with the confidence of a man who has walked the ground himself.

However, a modern reader must be prepared for the author’s period-specific perspectives. The language is dense, and his views on "heathen" populations and the "blessings" of civilization are steeped in the attitudes of his time. He is not writing for a modern, global audience, but for his contemporaries who were grappling with the implications of Darwinism and the shift away from traditional religious interpretations of history. Despite these biases, the book remains a valuable, readable account of how we have long tried to solve the riddle of the stones. It is a short, focused read that serves as a reminder that every age creates its own version of the past, and that the stones themselves remain, as ever, silent and imposing in their mystery.