My European Family

by Karin Bojs

  Unfortunately, there is one question that appears difficult to answer. What did the periphery of Doggerland look like? How far out into the Atlantic did the land mass extend at different times? I repeat my question several times in different ways, but finally Vincent Gaffney says I’ll have to accept that they don’t really know.

  The best maps currently available were drawn up in the late 1990s by the British archaeologist Bryony Coles, from Exeter. Her work was based mainly on modern measurements of the relief of the seabed. At that time, researchers had just established that the sea level had risen about 120 metres (390 feet) since the coldest period of the Ice Age, 20,000 years ago. It was therefore reasonable to assume that all the areas of the seabed lying less than 120 metres (390 feet) down must have been dry land at one time or another. That would imply that areas which are much shallower, such as the Dogger Bank, would have been high mountains. However, the match is not quite that simple. The major rivers that once flowed across Doggerland bore sediment that accumulated over the millennia. The landscape changed both in surface area and relief. Bryony Coles’s maps are thus based on reasonable assumptions, rather than on hard facts.

  Analyses of pollen from cores sampled from regions bordering on Doggerland reveal how the vegetation changed. The predominant landscape type during the coldest periods of the Ice Age was dry tundra. Unlike the interior of Scandinavia, Doggerland was probably not covered by thick ice sheets. Gaffney believes that small groups of Ice Age hunters visited the region even during the coldest periods of the Ice Age. One indication of this is the flint tip of a weapon, discovered by pure chance in the course of drilling in the seabed off the Viking-Bergen banks.

  At the end of the Ice Age, the sea level rose and Doggerland shrank. Yet the remaining areas of dry land became all the more fertile. Woods appeared, with small birches and willows first, gradually giving way to pines and hazel; hardwood broadleaved trees such as elms, lime trees and oaks came later.

  Gaffney hopes to secure grants that will enable him to pursue his research. He wants to have drilling carried out on a large scale in those areas of Doggerland that he thinks most likely to have been populated. These are mostly around estuaries and river mouths, along rivers and, above all, around the great ‘Silver Pit’ lake.

  He has already had drilling carried out in one or two places. He has subjected deposits from a settlement identified on the seabed off the Isle of Wight to a new type of DNA analysis. The whole core sample is analysed together at the same time, then researchers use computer-aided analysis to try and identify the organisms of which traces have been found in the sample. This produces detailed information about the diet of the people living in the settlement. Different species of plants and animals can be identified from the DNA sample.

  Gaffney is convinced that Doggerland was one of the heartlands of the hunting cultures that peopled north-western Europe after the end of the Ice Age. It afforded them the best hunting and fishing. Present-day England and Scotland, on the other hand, were bare, inaccessible mountainous regions at that time. They had little to offer. The inhabitants of Doggerland may have migrated there for relatively short periods in order to hunt.

  The people of the time probably also regarded the southern part of today’s Sweden as temporary hunting grounds. Large tracts of Sweden were still covered by ice 14,000 years ago. The southernmost tip and the west coast of Sweden, however, were ice-free and received occasional visitors. To reach Sweden, all people had to do was cross a few rivers. There were periods when they could travel all the way from Doggerland to the region now called Skåne, which forms the tip of southern Sweden – without crossing any bodies of water.

  ***

  The very first people to visit Sweden were probably a group of young adventurers living about 14,000 years ago. They belonged to what is known as the Hamburg culture, after the north German city of that name. This was a culture of reindeer hunters who followed the migrations of their quarry over vast areas. Doggerland was one of the heartlands, but the same culture extended from the region that is now Belgium in the west, through Denmark and northern Germany, to Poland in the east.

  To travel from Denmark to Sweden, the adventurous young reindeer hunters had to cross a broad and very rapid torrent. It must have been a hazardous undertaking to get across by boat, particularly at the narrowest point, between Helsingør on the Danish side and Helsing­borg in Sweden. To the east was the Baltic ice lake, a great lake formed from meltwater from the ice sheet. As it was much higher than the North Sea, water poured out through the Öresund Strait with great force. Presumably it would have been safer for these young people to paddle a little further north and land in the region that is now the Swedish county of Halland.

  They may have crossed the ice in winter. But that was also dangerous, as the ice sometimes broke. They would have had to tap it with their spears at very regular intervals to check its thickness and stability.

  Yet it may have been worth their while to take up all these challenges, as reindeer and horses thrived on the margins of the great glacier in summer. The same applied to the best fur-bearing animals, wolverines and Arctic foxes. And today’s archaeologists believe an expedition to new, unknown land would have conferred honour and prestige. The young adventurers returned to the new land again and again to hunt, but never stayed very long.

  Thousands of years later, when the land beyond the Öresund Strait had already been known as ‘Sweden’ for several centuries, collectors would sometimes stumble across a flint arrowhead left by the first visitors.

  For a brief period – 300 years, perhaps – there was probably a land bridge between Denmark and Sweden. By that time the climate had again become somewhat milder. The reindeer-hunting Hamburg culture from the tundra was replaced by the Bromme culture, which was more specialised in hunting deer, elk and other animals suited to life in birch woods. Everything suggests that this was essentially the same group of people; it was just that they adapted their culture somewhat as the climate grew warmer, woodlands emerged and their prey changed. The waters of the Öresund Strait seem to have dried up about 13,000 years ago, after which reindeer, deer, bears, beavers and people streamed over into Sweden. The people of the Bromme culture were active in Skåne for several generations.

  Then the Öresund Strait was flooded once again. The Atlantic currents changed course again, and the cold returned. The Ice Age reappeared in north-western Europe, as what geologists call the Younger Dryas. The birch woods disappeared, replaced by tundra, lichen and flora such as mountain avens (Dryas octopetala). This period of cold lasted for over 1,000 years. For most of this time, Sweden was so cold that it would not have been habitable. It was not until the end of the Younger Dryas, when the cold gradually became less severe, that the odd few reindeer hunters from the continent started to return. They probably crossed the Öresund Strait by boat from Denmark.

  Chapter Nine

  The Ice Age Ends

  A little over 11,600 years ago, the Ice Age came to a clear and definite end. The climate became nearly as warm as it is today. This shift was probably very rapid, with temperature rises of several degrees within just a few decades. Ice cores from Greenland suggest this may even have happened within the space of a few years.

  The change was followed in due course by two dramatic events: a gigantic waterfall appeared from nowhere, and, just as suddenly, a strait ran completely dry. It was not until after these two events that people began to move in larger numbers into the territory we now know as Sweden, and to settle there.

  Let us exercise a little imagination and picture a few nomadic reindeer hunters travelling in northern Västergötland at that time. Having climbed the mountain we now know as Mount Billingen, they were keeping watch for reindeer herds. It was a warm day in late summer. None of the hunters had ever experienced such a heatwave.

  Probably they were puzzled that the reindeer were no longer behaving in the usual way. They must surely have suspected a link with the higher temperatures t
hey were experiencing. However, there was little they could do but stay on the lookout, keep their hopes up, and live on hares and other small animals. Fortunately, there were plenty of fish in lakes and streams, as well as in the salty North Sea. The vast, ice-cold lake to the east, on the other hand, was devoid of life.

  By late afternoon, the people on Mount Billingen had still not sighted any reindeer. But they were enjoying themselves anyway. They had enough food for several days, and the streams provided fresh drinking water. Since it was so warm, they no longer needed to muffle themselves up in their usual thick anoraks and fur-trimmed hoods. A single layer – a thin tunic of animal hide – was quite sufficient. It was a great relief to be lightly dressed when making their way up the mountainside; they avoided sweating as profusely as usual.

  They had a magnificent view from the summit. No doubt their beliefs imbued the whole landscape with spiritual significance. On this beautiful spot, where they could see the meeting of mountain, ice, lake and sea, they must have experienced a particular closeness to deities and spiritual beings. Bluish ice sheets stretched northwards for as far as the eye could see. To the east, the dark blue waters of the cold ice lake extended to the horizon. To the west was the shimmering sea, with a reddening sun sinking towards the water.

  They decided to set up camp for the night and began the task of lighting a fire. We can picture them sitting in silence, contemplating in awe the grandeur of the landscape at dusk, while the fire gradually burned higher.

  Then came the first almighty crash. They started, and tried to speak to each other. But such was the noise that it was impossible to make out a word anyone said. The thundering became more intense. It grew worse and worse; this was no thunderstorm, but the manifestation of other forces that were far more powerful.

  Their eyes widened in terror, they saw immense blocks of ice calve off the edge of the glacier and plunge into the sea. In the same instant, a thunderous torrent surged forth, a new waterfall that had not been there previously. The water gushed out of the cold eastern lake into the North Sea, bearing gigantic blocks of ice and boulders so vast that the combined muscle power of many strong men would not have been able to lift them.

  Frozen with fear, they watched all this while the sun dipped into the sea and darkness fell. Soon all was black. But the din continued. They lay down as near as possible to the fire, and no one moved from the spot all night.

  At first light they rose and looked northward to see what had happened. The new waterfall was even more powerful and thunderous than the evening before. Great blocks of ice and boulders were still being swept down to the sea. In the plains to the south-west, a great river had appeared that had not been there the day before.

  Getting to their feet, they peered cautiously towards the south. Fortunately, the plains they had come from were still there. As soon as it was light enough, they hurried down the mountainside to tell their kinsfolk about the new waterfall and the new river.

  ***

  Shortly after that, in the area where the Danish city of Helsingør now lies, another small group of people experienced an entirely different kind of miracle.

  None of them dared paddle their boats over the narrowest part of the strait. That was far too dangerous, teeming with rapids and waterfalls. To cross to the other side, you had to start your voyage much further north, where the river widened on its way down to the sea and the water was calmer. Yet the most turbulent part of the torrent was still worth visiting around now, in late summer. There were fish to be caught. Above all, with a little luck they might find flints of exactly the right size and the best possible quality.

  It was late afternoon on a warm summer’s day, the warmest that any of them had ever known. In the morning, the strait looked just as always. As usual, they clambered around gingerly among the stones in their efforts to spear salmon. The least careless movement, and they could be swept away by the cold water, turned upside down and drown.

  But that evening, just before sundown, the sound of the rapids ceased abruptly. The rough torrent dwindled into a puny little stream. They sat on the brink, gaping dumbfounded as the water level sank before their very eyes.

  By the following day, the water had sunk still further. Within less than one lunar month it had disappeared. The bed of the channel lay exposed. Where lately a torrent had surged through, there was now only fine white sand and pale grey rocks, polished clean. Until lately, even adventurous young people had balked at paddling a boat across the strait. Now anyone, from the tiniest children to the weariest old people, could make their way across on foot. And that was not all. There, on the bed of the channel, lay a treasure trove: endless quantities of the best flint anyone had ever seen. All they had to do was go and gather whatever they needed.

  The land we now know as Sweden has been inhabited since before the huge new waterfall appeared and the strait ran dry. Though there are no DNA analyses from the first millennium, we can tell a good deal about the first post-Ice Age pioneers from the DNA of people in neighbouring regions and people from Sweden and Norway who lived 1,500 years later.

  ***

  As the Ice Age drew to a close, people in northern Europe began to change their way of life. Many migrated to the coasts. Reindeer hunters turned to seal hunting.

  No doubt the sea had already had a place in our lives at a much earlier stage. The very oldest traces of a culture reflecting modern humans have been found in Blombos cave, on the coast of South Africa. Worked sea shells and leftovers from fish-based meals that are at least 80,000 years old have been found there. As we have already seen, more than 30,000 years ago Europeans were already adorning themselves with shells brought hundreds of kilometres from the Black Sea, the Mediterranean and the Atlantic. Fishing in lakes and rivers, and perhaps on the coast as well, provided a significant complement to the hunting of reindeer, mammoths and wild horses during the Ice Age. One of the very oldest works of art at the French site of Les Eyzies-de-Tayac is a metre-long (3¼-foot) relief of a salmon, chiselled into a rock wall. It is at least 30,000 years old.

  But at some point, just as the Ice Age was coming to an end, people in Scandinavia learned how to hunt marine mammals. Initially, they combined the hunting of reindeer inland with seal hunting along the coasts, just as many Inuit people in Greenland and Canada have done for much of history. Some began to make the transition to living on the coast all year round.

  Ice Age reindeer hunters probably began to adapt and become seal hunters in Bohuslän (a province on the western seaboard of Sweden, immediately south of the Norwegian border), where the low-lying landscape of the south gives way to the mountains and fjords typical of the Norwegian coast. Unlike the coast of the flatlands, the fjord landscape offers numerous sheltered inlets, which are handy for canoeists who want to land and set up camp.

  Some archaeologists refer to the Bohuslän coast of that era as ‘the gateway to paradise’. When the Ice Age loosened its grip and the glaciers began to melt, cold, mineral-rich water gushed out into the North Sea, meeting warm saltwater currents. This made the coastal region an El Dorado for shellfish, fish, seabirds and seals – and for people who knew how to exploit this fauna. The Norwegian archaeologist Hein Bjartmann Bjerck believes the transition from reindeer hunting to seal hunting took place in Bohuslän approximately 11,500 years ago, and thinks it was very rapid, taking only a few generations.

  At this time, people sharing what appears to be a common culture were migrating across a vast region of northern Europe that stretched from Britain and Belgium in the west, across Doggerland, and as far east as Poland. The arrow points typical of these people are usually assigned to the Ahrensburg culture in Germany, and to the Swiderian culture in Poland. Nearly identical artefacts from the west coast of Sweden are classed as Hensbacka, and as soon as we cross the border into today’s Norway they are ascribed to the Fosna culture. The fact that such similar cultures have such different names says more about the narrow purview of twentieth-century archaeologists than about the
way people actually lived 11,500 years ago. The hunter-gatherers of the time had no national borders of the kind we know. Rather, they had very extensive networks and travelled over long distances to hunt, meet friends and kinsfolk, hold feasts, exchange gifts and find a partner with whom they could have children.

  Doubtless they could walk a few dozen kilometres a day in the open landscape of the tundra. There were as yet no dense forests to stand in their way. The only trees were puny dwarf birches and willows.

  The way of life of the Ahrensburgian people initially involved following reindeer on their migrations. When opportunity arose, they also hunted wild horses, elk and bison, as well as fur-bearing animals like wolves and foxes. However, some of them gradually began to see the great advantages of living on the coast for part of the year. It seems likely that they trekked southwards in late summer to engage in reindeer hunting around places like Ahrensburg in north Germany, the area that gave the culture its name. During the rest of the year, their dietary staples were seals, seabirds, fish and shellfish.

  To travel along the coast, you needed a boat. Doubtless some kind of relatively simple boats had already existed for a long time. There is evidence that people colonised Australia at least 50,000 years ago, and they must have come by boat. The very first visitors to Sweden, the reindeer hunters of the Hamburg culture who lived 14,000 years ago, are also likely to have had boats; they must have had some means of crossing the Öresund Strait, which was open water at the time. However, it seems likely that the art of boatbuilding in Europe made great advances in Bohuslän, at the very end of the Ice Age.

  These craft were probably hide-covered boats similar to those used by the Inuit well into the twentieth century. The tundra that predominated around the end of the Ice Age would not have featured tall trees with thick trunks that could be hollowed out to make boats. But a hide-covered kayak is an equally effective craft that can cover several dozen kilometres a day if paddled by a fit, skilled canoeist. Hein Bjartmann Bjerck believes these boats resembled the Inuit’s umiak, an open, relatively large canoe made of sealskin stretched over a framework of laths, which can carry a whole family. There may also have been enclosed kayaks that were smaller and faster, for use in seal hunting.