history

From The Guardian: "Richard III archaeologists to return to Leicester site in search of lost knight".

This time the team is applying to the Home Office for an exhumation licence for a lead-lined stone sarcophagus, which they believe holds the undisturbed remains of Sir William Moton, believed to have been buried at Grey Friars in 1362.

...

The original dig was funded by the Richard III Society, but the next phase will be paid for by the university and city council, which is predicting a tourism bonanza from the discovery.

My rule of thumb: When British people are doing something ghoulish because they predict a "tourism bonanza", look around for a blue police box.

The Wall Street Journal has an inspiring story of a hairdresser who turned her curiosity about Roman hairstyles into novel scholarship: "On Pins and Needles: Stylist Turns Ancient Hairdo Debate on Its Head".

In 2007, she sent her findings to the Journal of Roman Archaeology. "It's amazing how much chutzpah you have when you have no idea what you're doing," she says. "I don't write scholarly material. I'm a hairdresser."

John Humphrey, the journal's editor, was intrigued. "I could tell even from the first version that it was a very serious piece of experimental archaeology which no scholar who was not a hairdresser—in other words, no scholar—would have been able to write," he says.

Ms. Stephens' article was edited and published in 2008, under the headline "Ancient Roman Hairdressing: On (Hair)Pins and Needles." The only other article by a nonarchaeologist that Mr. Humphrey can recall publishing in the journal's 25-year history was written by a soldier who had discovered an unknown Roman fort in Iraq.

There is so much room in archaeology for people with deep subject knowledge, but not necessarily archaeological training, to make original contributions. Last night's NOVA episode, with a group of people trying to reconstruct Egyptian chariots, is another case where an ancient tradition can only be examined by those with insights about the subject beyond the historical and archaeological record -- in this instance, how to get a team of horses to work together using bridles, bits and yokes that no one had seen used in more than 2000 years.

One of the great potential strengths of online media and open access is to enable this kind of participation by non-academicians. I'm hoping to capture some of that enthusiasm and knowledge in an upcoming project.

(via Charles Mann)

The AP is running a story about a recent genetic study probing the ancestry of the Melungeons.

NASHVILLE, Tenn. (AP) — For years, varied and sometimes wild claims have been made about the origins of a group of dark-skinned Appalachian residents once known derisively as the Melungeons. Some speculated they were descended from Portuguese explorers, or perhaps from Turkish slaves or Gypsies.

Now a new DNA study in the Journal of Genetic Genealogy attempts to separate truth from oral tradition and wishful thinking. The study found the truth to be somewhat less exotic: Genetic evidence shows that the families historically called Melungeons are the offspring of sub-Saharan African men and white women of northern or central European origin.

This is the most well-known of a fairly large number of groups of country folk in the southern U.S. with obscure genealogical origins. The story goes on to discuss speculation that their ancestry may derive from indentured servants (of both races) in 1600's Virginia. Whether or not that specific suggestion is correct, shortly after their founding, the American colonies were a remarkably fortunate place for early immigrants. Poor and largely illiterate people who made the crossing had remarkable health, survival rates and fertility by Old World standards. Written history at the level of towns is sometimes surprisingly dense for the early colonies, but was produced by the literate, following their own concerns. Genetics may recapture the dynamics of the lost history of the early colonies, if not the details.

Ars Technica has an engrossing article by James Grimmelmann about the rise and fall of HavenCo. The firm promised data security and anonymity based on the idea that it was located on the independent nation of Sealand. The problem, of course, was that Sealand isn't really all it's cracked up to be.

HavenCo's collapse also shows a truly deep irony in its business model. By putting itself outside of other countries' legal systems, it put itself completely at Sealand's mercy. In hindsight, Ryan Lackey explained, "While I could sue HavenCo and/or directors for breach of contract, etc., ... it would presumably lead to a negative resolution of the Sealand sovereignty issue." Sealand is a toy nation with a toy legal system, not a stable business environment. Prince Roy and Prince Regent Michael might be fun to raise a glass with, but they don't inspire the kind of confidence an independent judiciary would. On Sealand, Sean Hastings and Ryan Lackey unwittingly recreated everything that drove them out of Anguilla in the first place.

It was fun to read about the origin of Sealand in the days of pirate radio and the recurrent attempts to make money off of a very weird situation. Any fan of Cryptonomicon will recognize the plot.