Keywords

Introduction

The house and its implications of sedentism and structured life have long formed one of the homely beacons in discussions on Neolithisation. Childe (1957, p. 15), envisioning a ‘settled peasantry producing surplus’ was one of the first to weave these elements together in his ‘package idea’ of the Neolithic Revolution. Undisputedly, in the first half of the twentieth century, the mudbrick walls of ancient Jericho, the early circular stone buildings at Beiddha (e.g. Kirkbride 1968), or the many Near Eastern tells formed important cornerstones in our understanding of the dispersal of agriculture and the sedentary character of Neolithic communities. Later on nuances grew, for example with respect to the association of pottery (e.g. PPN or kitchen middens), or the settled character of the preceding Mesolithic (e.g. Lepenski Vir), yet the coupling of structured buildings, sedentism and agriculture remained prevalent in tracking the spread of Neolithisation. From 5500 cal BC onwards, this ‘package’ of a settled Neolithic with a distinctly built environment travelled further north and west into Europe with the dispersal of the central European Linear Pottery culture (LBK). The accent also somewhat shifted from the communal perspective of tells and villages, to the more isolated notion of the independent house as materialized in the often impressive structures of the LBK and the spatially standardized activities that took place around them (Lenneis 2004, p. 154). Around 5300 cal BC, the sturdy and heavy oak-posted LBK longhouses formed a well-known Neolithic baseline across a vast stretch of north-west Europe (e.g. Gronenborn 1999).

Around 4900 cal BC, this is also the case on the southern limits of the Lower Rhine Area (LRA) on the western margin of the north European plain. However, after c. 4800 cal BC we lose much of our grip on Neolithic house plans, the Michelsberg culture (MK) and subsequent Stein group only yielding rare and highly diverse types of structures. This problem is not limited to this part of the continent but is a well-known phenomenon, especially in the (lowland) British Neolithic (e.g. Bradley 2007; Last 1996; Thomas 1996a, 1999; Topping 1996; Whittle 1996a). More recently, this idea of mainly ephemeral structures has been challenged especially by finds and excavations from Ireland (Cooney 2000; Grogan 2004; Smyth 2006), Scotland (Brophy 2006; Sheridan 2007) and even the Thames valley (Hey and Barclay 2007). It now seems that different traditions existed side by side, with areas having a distinct development of their own. In contrast, in the LRA it is not until the (Middle) Bronze Age that we again have a distinct idea of what houses and settlements looked like (e.g. Arnoldussen and Fontijn 2006). Nevertheless, for the preceding period there is evidence available on houses and related structures from the wetlands and wet margins of the LRA. These provide an interesting long-term perspective on the habitation of this area during the transition to agriculture.

In this paper, I will explore the characteristics of dwelling in the LRA wetlands and seek out the current evidence for converging traits and commonalities. This way a rather diverse image is constructed of settlement life between c. 5000–2500 cal BC, which contrasts with the well-known LBK and Bronze Age building traditions and the limited evidence available for the Middle Neolithic upland building traditions (e.g. Vanmontfort 2004). The contribution traces the building traditions of consecutive cultures, and hence communities, over time, and these originally have distinctly Mesolithic roots (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 1998). This long-term perspective may broaden our horizon on the characteristics of domestic structures present within the timespan discussed, the structuring principles underlying the building tradition and the character of occupation in the wetland area during the process of Neolithisation.

A View from the Longhouse

In the shape of the longhouse, the various practices, ideas and novelties associated with the Neolithic arrived on the loess margins of the Lower Rhine Area, most notably on the Aldenhovener Platte, Dutch southern Limburg and the Belgian Hesbaye region.

The uniformity of this new way of life, as expressed in a subsistence strategy largely focused on domestic resources and in settlement location choice, was further shaped by the patterned layout of these structures. The familiar fabric of LBK longhouses took shape in a repetitive canon with several characteristic elements (e.g. Hofmann 2006, pp. 187–197; Modderman 1988). In many LBK villages, this fixedness in the appearance of occupation was accompanied by a considerable occupation span. Settlements such as Elsloo and Langweiler 8 were inhabited in changing constellations for over 350 years (e.g. Stehli 1994).

As argued by Whittle (1996a, b) these longhouses acted as central nodes for patterns of routine movement, formalized behaviour and conformity. Hodder (1990, pp. 119–237 et passim) furthermore argues that their monumental character and specific ordering involving aspects of seclusion, inclusion and exclusion emphasized a cultural ordering opposing the wild. In The domestication of Europe this concept of the ‘domus’ is perceived as the conceptual and practical locus of social transformation. It provided a way of thinking about the control of the wild and the larger oppositions between nature and culture, social and unsocial (Hodder 1990, pp. 41–52).

At the start of the fifth millennium, longhouse life of course was no longer a novelty in central and western Europe, yet it is evident that its physical character was markedly different from preceding ways of human habitation. In this sense, there is much to say about the idea that this would have also formed a distinct expression of changed values and beliefs, especially with respect to nature and the enculturation of the wild (cf. Hodder 1990). It also involved the appropriation of an entirely new set of techniques and practices (clearing of forests and fields, cutting and splitting of large trees, digging pits, managing animals for transport, performing complex technical procedures), largely new materials (large posts and beams, adzes, wattle and daub, thatch) and new levels of group organisation and cooperation. In this respect, the daubed and perhaps painted façades of the LBK longhouses (Lichardus and Lichardus-Itten 1985), which could be up to 5m in height, stood out not only against their natural surroundings, but also against preceding and contemporary ways of hunter–gatherer life.

A Troublesome Template

After 4900 cal BC Danubian life continued, albeit with certain modifications. On the Aldenhovener Platte in the German Rhineland, this resulted in the Hinkelstein/Großgartach and subsequent Rössen traditions, yet apart from several Blicquy sites in parts of Belgium (distinctly associated with the former LBK occupation) and a single Rössen settlement at Maastricht-Randwijck, there hardly seems evidence for occupation on the southern margin of the LRA (Vanmontfort 2007, p. 105). It is not until the latter part of the fifth millennium that we again find distinct evidence of occupation, this time of MK origin. Many sites are known of this culture, including flint mines and enclosures, yet what is conspicuously lacking are house plans. Apart from rather singular and extraordinary structures, such as the peculiarly large building at Mairy-Les Hautes Chanvières in the Belgian Ardennes (Marolle 1989), evidence is limited to small and diverse structures such as those at Thieusies-Ferme de l’Hosté (Belgium) or Echzell-Wannkopf in the German Wetterau (e.g. Verhart 2000, Fig. 4.20). These structures are usually found on the loess soils, which also harbour large concentrations of lithic scatters. Further north on the sand, the evidence becomes even more scarce and undiagnostic (Vanmontfort 2007, p. 111).

The evident disparity between the Danubian longhouse and the absent or ephemeral structures of the Middle Neolithic is striking (see Table 10.1). This is partially due to taphonomic reasons (e.g. Burnez-Lanotte et al. 1996; Vanmontfort 2004) and research biases. Rowley-Conwy (2004, pp. 93–104) mentions the shortcomings of the much-used narrow commercial test trenches.

Table 10.1 Presence and visibility of Neolithic features on the upland sandy soils (except Sweikhuizen) for several sites with Middle Neolithic finds. (Adapted from Amkreutz in press). The second column indicates the number of prehistoric features whereas the third indicates the features positively identified as Neolithic on the basis of their contents

Recent finds of 30m long Middle Neolithic house plans, currently attributed to the Stein group, near Veldhoven, seem to confirm these methodological shortcomings (Van Kampen and Van den Brink in press). On the other hand, the marked paucity of features also points to the existence of a different settlement system marked by lighter structures and a higher degree of mobility. In this respect, we might be over-estimating the visibility of the initial material reflection of this type of system.

On the basis of this, it is evident that from a material perspective the Bandkeramik template is not suitable to study post-Rössen settlement systems in this area (Thomas 1996a, p. 6). From this it may be assumed that the symbolic connotations that may have surrounded longhouse construction and habitation also changed and are no longer appropriate (e.g. Last 1996, p. 40). There is thus no sense in using an LBK framework for studying later forms of dwelling. In effect, perceived against the majority of Neolithic structures in north-west Europe, LBK and post-LBK longhouses form a rather exceptional phenomenon. These conclusions indicate that we need to change our scope in order to find out more about house form and settlement structure in this period. We need to zoom in on the mosaic and try to delimit regionally relevant and structurally related traditions of building and occupation. The wetlands and wetland margins of the LRA form such a piece of the mosaic, where more evidence is available for houses and settlement structure and where there is a cultural continuum of communities from the Late Mesolithic onwards.

Before documenting the material aspects of inhabitation it is necessary to provide a brief context of the natural surroundings and a general outline of the process of Neolithisation.

The Lower Rhine Delta: from Hunting and Gathering to Hunting, Gathering and Farming

On the western margin of the north European plain, the glacial landscapes of boulder clay and ice-pushed ridges and the Pleistocene uplands of loess and coversand converge on a wide area of low-lying land. This geographical triangle roughly runs from the Scheldt basin in the south to the north German coast in Niedersachsen, bordered in the west by the North Sea. From the sixth millennium cal BC onwards, the rise in sea level and groundwater table had a major effect on this area, creating what may best be termed a wetland mosaic. Geologically this vast delta comprises a complex succession of marine, estuarine, organic, lacustrine, fluviatile and aeolian deposits (Louwe Kooijmans 1987, p. 227), emphasizing a dynamic environmental past.

In total, five different zones may be distinguished from west to east, whereby marine influence and salt conditions gradually diminish (see Fig. 10.1). They comprise a relatively dry coastal area with beach barriers, bordering on an area of tidal flats, saltmarshes and estuaries (Louwe Kooijmans 1993). Further east, there are freshwater peat swamps with lakes and slow rivers. Dry ‘islands’ in this area were formed by Pleistocene river dunes, also known as ‘donken’. These formed an archipelago of over 80 islands of different size and clustering. A final zone is formed in the margin to the uplands, where riverine influence is prevalent.

Fig. 10.1
figure 1

Map of the Lower Rhine Area depicting geological background and sites mentioned in the text (except Hüde I). 1 Hardinxveld, 2 Hazendonk, 3 Bergschenhoek, 4 Swifterbant-S3, 5 Hoge Vaart-A-27, 6 Hekelingen-3, 7 Vlaardingen, 8 Schipluiden, 9 Wateringen-4, 10 Ypenburg, 11 Leidschendam, 12 Slootdorp, 13 Emmeloord. (Map adapted from Van Gijssel and Van der Valk 2005, map 3)

This highly variable landscape of course also harboured a rich diversity in vegetation and wildlife (e.g. Nicholas 1998). However, it is important to note that the specific constellation of land, water and resources could also be dynamic and shifting. Resources, dry living areas and transport routes were subject to change over time, which might have been slow, but could also have been swift and dramatic (see Leary 2009). This meant a continuous confrontation with changing patterns of expectation and anticipation. This recursive interaction between landscape, environment and communities (cf. Ingold 2000) would over time have shaped both the practices and the social identity, the mentalité of subsequent generations of communities (also see Sturt 2006).

Within this spatially and chronologically dynamic setting, over time a gradual transition to agriculture took place between c. 5000 and 2500 cal BC (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 2007; Raemaekers 2003). In general there is convincing evidence for a very slow, staged and gradual introduction of Neolithic elements. Pottery production started around c. 5000 cal BC as indicated by evidences at Hardinxveld-Polderweg and Hoge Vaart, forming the start of the Swifterbant culture. During its middle phase the first domesticates (apart from the dog) are introduced, all four species (cattle, sheep, goat and pigs) are present around 4700 cal BC at Hardinxveld-Giessendam De Bruin and slightly later at Brandwijk. At c. 4100 cal BC the remains of chaff and cereal grains appear at Swifterbant-S3 and the Hazendonk, although the discussion on local cultivation is ongoing. Around 3700 cal BC the Swifterbant culture is succeeded by the Hazendonk group in the southern part of the delta. Sites such as Schipluiden, Ypenburg and Wateringen-4 provide first evidence for long-term occupation and indications for sedentism, as well as a more fixed contribution of domesticates and cultigens. The end of the process of Neolithisation is formed by the Vlaardingen culture (c. 3400–2500 cal BC), with several settlements combining distinctly Mesolithic and Neolithic traits.

While the summary above provides a general outline, reality was more complex. The intricate and recursive relationship between the wetland communities and their environment led to a historically contingent development. Different and often pragmatic choices were made and abandoned at different times and places, leading to a consistent degree of diversity in subsistence and habitation and contrasting with an ever increasing general importance of domesticates and cultigens (Amkreutz in press). Within this setting of a wetland mosaic particular forms of habitation took shape that should not be studied separately from their environmental or landscape context.

Huts, Houses and Clusters of Posts

In following section, the available evidence for tracking the Neolithic house in the LRA wetlands is presented chronologically. The cultural continuity between 5500 and 2500 cal BC provides a good background for studying long-term practices and for perceiving these groups and their material evidence of occupation as part of a coherent and significant tradition. Most of the structures mentioned below are depicted in Figs. 10.3 and 10.4.

The Late Mesolithic (6450–4900 cal BC)

The evidence for Late Mesolithic dwelling structures is limited. In the wetland area so far only the sites of Hardinxveld-Polderweg and De Bruin yielded evidence. At Polderweg two oblong pits measuring 8.5 × 3 m and 6.5 × 2 m were located on the slope of the river dune. A possible successor was found at nearby De Bruin. The compacted and possibly trampled layer in combination with a number of postholes suggests we may be dealing with sunken dwellings with a floor cover of organic material (see Fig. 10.2). The depth of some of the postholes indicates they may have been used for rather sturdy structures (Hamburg and Louwe Kooijmans 2001, p. 85). Micromorphological analysis of thin sections indicated possible hearths. The hut features may represent rather permanent structures, since the compacted layer indicates intensive, repeated use, while the admixture of clean sand suggests repeated cleaning of the dwelling (Hamburg and Louwe Kooijmans 2001, p. 100). Other (Late) Mesolithic sites, for example Saxtorp and Ageröd on Skåne, Møllegabet and Lollikhuse, all in Denmark, yielded structures of similar shape and size. The somewhat later Ertebølle structures are characterized by a large heterogeneity in types of structures (Hamburg and Louwe Kooijmans 2001, p. 96; Karsten and Knarrström 2003, p. 37; Skaarup and Grön 2004, p. 41–74).

Fig. 10.2
figure 2

Polderweg hut feature. (After Hamburg and Louwe Kooijmans 2001)

The Swifterbant Culture (5000–3400 cal BC)

In the wetlands of the Lower Rhine Area, Swifterbant houses are claimed for the site of Schokland-P14 (Ten Anscher 2000/2001, 2012). On a boulder clay outcrop a large number of features was uncovered. Unfortunately, erosion affected the integrity of the potential house plans and a number of assumed posts are missing. Although four two-aisled house plans are reconstructed, roughly measuring 12–13 × 5–6 m, this makes it questionable whether we are dealing with actual houses. Swifterbant-S3 (De Roever 2004) yielded better evidence for structures, dating to a timespan of approximately 100 years between 4300 and 4000 cal BC. Many small postholes and remnants of posts were documented (Ø 6–11 cm). Although larger, heavier trees must have been available (Casparie et al. 1977), these stakes, mainly of alder, were used to construct what may at best be termed light-weight shelters (De Roever 2004, p. 34). On one of the higher parts of the levee, a vaguely rectangular structure was discovered with a NW-SE orientation amidst a cluster of posts measuring 15 × 9 m. The structure measures c. 8 × 4.5 m. Some post settings are clearly double posts and several shorter lines can be seen, possibly representing an internal division or phases of rebuilding (see De Roever 2004, p. 34). The overall number of posts (c. 750, see Deckers et al. 1980, p. 137) indicates activities of rebuilding. A fixed hearth and consistent patterns of waste disposal, as well as the layers of woodchips and bundles of reed used to strengthen the site against waterlogging and flooding, confirm the domestic character of the location and structure.

The site of Hüde I, located on the margins of Lake Dümmer, yields further evidence of Swifterbant domestic architecture between c. 4300 and 3700 cal BC. Bordering on a channel of the Hunte river the remains of at least six structures, tentatively interpreted as huts, have been documented (Kampffmeyer 1991, Fig. 37; Stapel 1991, Figs. 228, 230). Their interpretation as hut features is mainly based on a combination of the different construction techniques that have been identified, including elements such as wattled walls, posts, and different methods of joining planks, posts etc. It is most likely that the wooden structures documented served as a base for wattled superstructures of small branches or reed. Occupation at Hüde I consisted of small waterside huts, measuring 3 × 4 m to 4 × 4 m with raised floors and wooden bases.

At Bergschenhoek (4340–4050 cal BC), a fishing and fowling camp on the peaty shores of a lake in the coastal area of the Rhine-Meuse estuary, similar structures were discovered. This time they comprise a small living platform of 3 × 4 m, consolidated with bundles of reed, wooden boards and small trees (Louwe Kooijmans 1986). Bergschenhoek dates to a relatively short span of time (c. 10 years) between 4340 and 4050 cal BC. Central to the site is a sequence of superimposed hearths pointing to the existence of place continuity in activities over several years.

The Hazendonk Group (3800–3400 cal BC)

For the Hazendonk group, recent excavations have provided insight into the characteristics of building and habitation. It appears that from c. 3800 cal BC sites were occupied for long intervals and sometimes even year-round (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 2007, pp. 299–304). There is a building tradition that is characterized by small rectangular buildings of c. 7–8 × 3–4 m, with a two-aisled internal layout and a limited post diameter (also see Hogestijn and Drenth 2000/2001, p. 147). Examples of this have been found at Ypenburg and Wateringen-4. At Wateringen, 19 posts formed the plan of a two-aisled house measuring 10.9 × 4.1 m. The majority of the postholes belonging to the structure still contained wooden posts. This indicates that the many postholes without wooden posts potentially belonged to predecessors of this house on top of the dune. The wood was probably removed again to be used in other structures (Raemaekers et al. 1997, p. 149).

Since no other (contemporaneous) house structures were found, Wateringen-4 should be interpreted as a single house site with an occupation span of c. 2–3 generations (c. 50–75 years; see Louwe Kooijmans 2009).

At Ypenburg, similar structures were found within a number of clusters of postholes. Based on a selection of features with similar characteristics, a number of house plans was identified. Within cluster 1, the main part of a south east–north west oriented two-aisled house plan was documented comprising 24 posts and measuring c. 9.8 × 4.5 m. Five central posts were probably roofbearing. The post settings indicate this structure may have had a hipped roof (Enderman 2008). Cluster 3 yielded a rectangular two-aisled house plan (oriented SE-NW) measuring 8.9 × 4 m. The mean diameter of the posts is 13cm. The large number of posts most probably represent several phases of repair and rebuilding. Cluster 4 also yielded a rectangular two-aisled house plan (oriented E-W) measuring 8.1 × 3.7 m. The structure is comparable to the structure at Wateringen-4 (Houkes and Bruning 2008). The mean diameter of the posts is between 13 and 20cm. In contrast to Wateringen, the situation at Ypenburg thus represents a number of house yards, some of which may have been contemporaneous. Important to note is the variability in the composition of the houses within one site within a relatively short span of time.

Evidence for frequent rebuilding is especially distinct at Schipluiden, where a total of 3,352 postholes were uncovered located on the top and slopes of the dune. These mainly concentrated within four clusters, associated with consistent activity areas and waste disposal areas to the south, as well as wells to the north. They mark the persistent location of house areas or yards. No house plans could be identified. The frequent rebuilding of houses and structures within the same area anchored the clusters but obscured any structural evidence of a higher resolution. The largest postholes (> 30cm) formed up to 36 rows of 5–12 m, comprising three to five relatively heavy posts at intervals of 2–4 m. This makes them quite comparable to the size of structures found at Ypenburg and Wateringen. Since it is probable that juniper and especially alder were used for many of the posts (Louwe Kooijmans and Kooistra 2006), it may be assumed that many of the structures were rather short-lived (up to c. 15 years), which does effectively explain the ‘crowded’ clusters of posts (Hamburg and Louwe Kooijmans 2006, p. 62).

Another structure at Schipluiden consisted of a rectangular trench with rounded corners measuring 3.5 × 6 m. In the middle of the structure, a number of large posts (Ø 15–19cm, depth 25–37cm) was uncovered, four of which lay along the central axis and may have supported a roof. It is likely that due to its location and fill, the structure dates to the last phase of occupation of the dune (Hamburg and Louwe Kooijmans 2006).

Fig. 10.3
figure 3

a Swifterbant and Hazendonk houses. Note the lines indicating the position of the Swifterbant structure. (Adapted from Amkreutz in prep; based on De Roever 2004; Houkes and Bruning 2008; Raemaekers et al. 1997). b Detail of the many phases of building and rebuilding documented in Schipluiden. (Adapted from Louwe Kooijmans 2009)

The Vlaardingen Culture (3400–2500 cal BC)

In contrast to contemporary house plans of the TRB-culture (Midgely 1992) or the recently discovered 30m long houses of the southern Stein group (Van Kampen and Van den Brink in press), house plans of the Vlaardingen culture distinctly seem to remain part of the previous delta tradition. A number of sites have yielded structures. At Haamstede-Brabers (see Verhart 1992), situated on a coastal barrier on the island of Schouwen, a total of three house plans was found. The first cluster yielded a rectangular ground plan (9.1 × 3.8 m), oriented E-W, with a row of central posts, a double row of wall posts and a structured concentration of small posts or stakes on the inside. The four central posts are heaviest (postholes: Ø 35cm, depth 50–60cm). The wall posts are smaller (Ø 15cm, depth 13–40cm). The concentration of small posts on the inside centres on what seems to be a hearth. The second cluster yielded a rectangular two-aisled structure with somewhat rounded ends measuring 7.5 × 4.25 m (oriented NW-SE). Finally, cluster 4 yielded a rectangular ground plan (oriented NW-SE) measuring 6 × 3.73 m. The central row consists of 4 posts (Ø 30–40cm; Verhart 1992, p. 87).

The three structures at Brabers indicate the existence of considerable diversity in the construction of houses in this period. House 1 indicates that the means and technology to make technically complex houses, which may last for several generations and were recognisably repaired, existed, yet at other moments other, perhaps more simple or ad hoc choices were made. This is also the case at Leidschendam and Vlaardingen. At Leidschendam, located on a coastal barrier, three clusters of posts were uncovered. Trench 4 yielded a rectangular alignment of posts (oriented SSW-NNE) measuring 16.75 × 4.75 m. The presence of double posts may indicate multiple phases of repair and the structure coincided with the main distribution of finds. The cluster in trench 5 measured c. 12 × 9 m and included a large number of postholes. The orientation is SSW-NNE and on the eastern end there is a row of eleven posts extending over 9.25m (Van Beek 1990). In 2005, excavations indicated the presence of further rectangular two-aisled structures (Hamburg 2006, p. 18), possibly houses. At Vlaardingen, several rectangular configurations of posts measuring 8 × 3–4 m were found situated on a levee, probably representing house-places of 8–10m in length and c. 4m in width. The many postholes uncovered, however, make their combination into structures difficult. This also seems to be the case at a recently discovered Vlaardingen settlement near Den Haag (Wateringse Binnentuinen). There, several potential house structures could be defined within the clusters of posts. These seem to be of a larger size (3.5 × 15 m) and again of a diverse layout (Stokkel et al. in press).

For the Vlaardingen culture, Hekelingen presents another type of occupation. Situated on a levee, the site extents for c. 200m along the banks of an active creek. Habitation took place between 2900 and 2500 cal BC. Some of the 15 separate artefact and refuse concentrations that were discovered were inhabited contemporaneously and at least 12 different concentrations of artefacts and debris have been located along the creek. Habitation here is not characterized by two-aisled house plans, but rather by clusters of small posts, which can certainly be considered the material remains of round or oval hut sites, often associated with fireplaces (Louwe Kooijmans 1987, p. 245).

Overall, the character of habitation documented at Hekelingen deviates from the nature of Vlaardingen occupation elsewhere, as presented in previous section. The former is characterized by more structural house-places and technically complex and curated buildings. Vlaardingen takes up an intermediate position, while Hekelingen III should probably be interpreted as the remains of tents or huts. Recent excavations such as those at Hellevoetsluis and Hazerswoude seem to confirm these building traditions (Goossens 2009).

Fig. 10.4
figure 4

Vlaardingen houses. (Adapted from Amkreutz in press; based on Hogestijn and Drenth 2000/2001; Louwe Kooijmans 1987; Van Beek 1990; Verhart 1992)

A Delta Phenomenon?

Although the number of sites is still limited, the examples above indicate the existence of a number of distinct traditions of building, construction and habitation in the wetlands of the LRA. To some extent this is also confirmed by sites outside of the cultural continuum discussed. For instance, at the TRB site of Slootdorp (3500–3100 cal BC) in West Frisia (Hogestijn and Drenth 2000/2001), situated in a salt marsh area, 451 stakeholes were uncovered. A two-aisled structure was visible measuring c. 11 × 3.8 m. Again, the number of features suggests several instances of repair, as well as phases of rebuilding. While this site may be a satellite location of more permanent dryland domestic TRB occupation (e.g. Midgely 1992), it may also point to the need for a more diversified perspective in which the TRB salt marsh occupation as recorded at Slootdorp is interpreted in its own right as best fitting the nature of settlement in such a wetland landscape.

Building and Rebuilding: Common Practices and Structuring Principles

The cultural continuum of communities discussed here can be situated in a close, though not exclusive, relation to the wetlands and wetland margins of the LRA. In this respect the communities associated with these landscapes would have been influenced at multiple levels by living in and dealing with such a dynamic environment and this would also have affected the way they built (cf. Ingold 2000). Instead of perceiving such a potential tradition as an epiphenomenon of adaptation, it is argued here that a more dynamic perspective applies. In line with Goodman (1999, pp. 145–146), a study of domestic space and houses should be embedded in a study of the longer-term patterns we uncover. Different levels intermesh and interact and we should try and define characteristics of transmission that surpass the individual life spans and generations, in order to seek a better understanding of the nature of habitation in the area studied. This situated perspective focuses on the transmission of practices and traditions, of habitus (Bourdieu 1977; Foxhall 2000) and on the rhythmicity (cf. Lefebvre 2004; also see Sturt 2006) of living in a certain landscape and environment. For the wetlands, this approach takes into consideration ideas relating to the existence of a ‘wetland people’ (Van der Noort and O’Sullivan 2006) and to what extent the close-knit connection between the wetland environment and landscape and its inhabitants shaped a conceptual or moral community (Brück 2005; Whittle 2003, p. 17) with a distinct way of habitation.

In the following section, different aspects of building and inhabiting will be discussed in order to discover commonalities and structuring elements.

A Vernacular Tradition?

At first glance a comparison of 3,000 years of wetland and wetland margin domestic building traditions offers an impression of diversity. The sunken huts at Hardinxveld differ distinctly from the huts of the Swifterbant culture, while the two-aisled buildings of the Hazendonk group are complemented by post clusters and small-scale hut features, also present during the later Vlaardingen culture. However, as early as the Swifterbant culture and at least from the Hazendonk group onwards, there is evidence for a two-aisled building tradition with structures that are roughly between 8–11m in length and 3–5m in width. The execution of these houses, even within one site, remains variable with respect to layout, post size, building material, orientation, roofing etc. This opposes this tradition against other overarching regional traditions, as for example those of the Middle Bronze Age (cf. Arnoldussen 2008, p. 272), or the earlier LBK (e.g. Modderman 1988). Within these cultures the social rules and conventions regarding the construction of houses signal a much more rigid, controlled type of habitus (see Sommer 2001). This does not mean that the traditions documented here are coincidental, or unstructured, but rather that they are of a more vernacular character. They are therefore less a product of design and planning (see Ingold 2000, p. 186). According to Rapoport (1969, pp. 5–8), such a vernacular tradition is characterized by a pre-industrial or primitive architecture with a strong relation between form and culture, because the template or model of dwelling is continually adjusted until it satisfies cultural, physical and maintenance requirements (Rapoport 1969, p. 4). Form adjusts to given problems and available means and building is based on the idea that tasks should be performed in the simplest, most unobtrusive and direct way possible (Rapoport 1969, p. 5). According to Rapoport (1969, p. 5) this involves the tendency to work with the site and micro-climate with little theoretical pretensions, respect for the natural and man-made environment and an idiom of variations within a given order. These traditions are thus distinctly open-ended, leaving room for additions and changes and stressing the relationship between the various building elements over the way they are executed (Rapoport 1969, p. 6). The supposed existence of a vernacular tradition should not be seen as synonymous for an absence of social rules guiding building practices. Certain structures and regularities within architecture may be determined, and these remain important research topics. What the concept of ‘vernacular tradition’ does argue for and places at its centre is the close-knit and recursive relationship between building practices, materials and environmental characteristics. Approaching houses, structures and related patterning at sites from this perspective stresses the importance of material elements as media for social reproduction and for studying the relation of communities with the environment. This explains both the continuity we see over time as well as the internal variability. Architecture is attuned to cultural, physical and maintenance requirements, but at the same time diversity indicates a practice of adaptation to changing circumstances. This continuous yet flexible character seems best suited to study the nature of occupation in the LRA wetlands and wet margins.

Practices of Repetition

The wetland building traditions have now been characterized in a functional way as a ‘vernacular tradition’ anchoring them firmly within the landscape and environment. This enables us to perceive their development in relation to these factors. It is a bottom-up approach that is much more in line with a dwelling perspective and hence an archaeology of ‘inhabitation’ (Brück 2005; Ingold 2000; Pollard 2000) focusing on the active relationship between humans and their (natural) environment (including the landscape) and stressing the ‘situatedness’ and historicity of this recursive relationship. However, although the characteristics of building are open-ended and adaptable, this does not mean that they are exempt from regularities or returning traits. Elements of what may be termed a building syntax, particular to this region, may be determined.

Building and Rebuilding

Despite the ongoing evidence for seasonal mobility as late as the Vlaardingen culture (Amkreutz 2010) there is also a distinct investment in dwelling structures or houses. One of its major features is the remarkable degree to which structures were built, renewed and re-built on the same spot. For the Late Mesolithic the compacted layer in the sunken dwellings at Hardinxveld seems to have been repeatedly renewed. The Polderweg structure was intentionally filled in after its last use (Hamburg and Louwe Kooijmans 2001, p. 100), indicating the repeated use and maintenance of these dwelling structures in combination with an act of closure, ending the cycle (Smyth 2006, p. 250; also see Gerritsen 2008). For the Swifterbant culture, practices of re-use become more evident. For S3 it may be calculated that part of the 750 postholes clustering on the top of the levee may point to at least 10 phases of renewal of the structure in the same place within less than a century (Amkreutz in press). Similarly at P14 the posts demonstrate evidence of replacement (Ten Anscher 2000/2001, pp. 158–159), while at Hoge Vaart a posthole cluster of 175 features was uncovered (Peeters 2007), suggesting similar patterns of renewing and rebuilding.

The houses uncovered for the various sites of the Hazendonk group show similar patterning. At Wateringen, 19 of the 97 features on top of the dune were attributed to a house plan, suggesting various previous instances of renewal (Raemaekers et al. 1997, p. 149). At Schipluiden 3,353 postholes were discovered in four dense clusters in a zone of 120 × 20m. These represent house sites witnessing frequent phases of repair, re-building, renewal and maintenance (Hamburg and Louwe Kooijmans 2006, pp. 61–62). The largest posts formed 36 rows of 5–12m. Per cluster 5–11 of these rows were identified. In relation to the occupation span, approximately eleven house generations of perhaps five contemporaneous houses occurred (Hamburg and Louwe Kooijmans 2006). Furthermore, it would take approximately 100 houses to account for 3,000 postholes, amounting to c. 20 houses per cluster, roughly seven houses per century per place and a mean renewal every 14 years. At Ypenburg, a similar situation existed. In total, 837 post features were uncovered from which at least four house plans were reconstructed, with frequent episodes of repair and rebuilding of (parts of) structures in the same place (see Houkes and Bruning 2008).

For the Vlaardingen culture the coastal site of Haamstede Brabers yielded four clusters of postholes and at least three house plans with instances of repair and rebuilding. This is also the case at the eponymous site of Vlaardingen itself, which was probably inhabited seasonally (see Louwe Kooijmans 1987, p. 250). Several houses on the levee were contemporaneous and were frequently rebuilt on the spot, resulting in the clusters of posts. Van Beek (1990, p. 233) calculated that within the 250 years of occupation at Vlaardingen, a total of 75 houses may have been built and that approximately three houses were contemporaneous at any time. A similar picture may be sketched for the Vlaardingen settlement at Leidschendam. The creek sites of Hekelingen also show comparable evidence. At Hekelingen III, at least 15 artefact and refuse concentrations were discerned, as well as three separate phases of occupation. Based on the presence of small clusters of postholes several remains of round or oval huts have been suggested (Louwe Kooijmans 1987, p. 245). In total the site was seasonally inhabited for over two centuries. Some of the locations are contemporaneous, others are each others’ successor, with multiple phases of occupation and consecutive huts (site F). Recently excavated sites of the Vlaardingen culture, such as Hellevoetsluis or Hazerswoude (e.g. Goossens 2009), also yielded indications (respectively 101 and 60 postholes) for repeatedly rebuilt or renewed structures, as did the wetland TRB site of Slootdorp. A total of 451 post features point to a structure which must have witnessed a considerable number of phases of maintenance and rebuilding (Hogestijn and Drenth 2000/2001, p. 133).

In conclusion, it may be argued that across the cultural succession of wetland communities there is consistent evidence for practices of repetition and place continuity (see Table 10.2). Often the exact number of structures and associated posts remains unknown, yet this is an epiphenomenon of these practices even on those sites with evidence for sedentary occupation (e.g. Schipluiden and Ypenburg).

Table 10.2 Number of identified postholes, post clusters, identified or estimated structures and estimated number of posts per cluster for sites with best available data. (Adapted from Amkreutz, in press)

Wood Use

Another aspect typical of these wetland building traditions is the fact that many structures were made of perishable wood species, predominantly alder (see Fig. 10.5). The average post diameter documented ranges between 5 and 10cm. Alder is of course a common species in a wetland environment, which may have made it the most convenient candidate. However, even at those sites where palaeobotanical investigations demonstrated the presence of other species such as oak, for example at Swifterbant-S3, Ypenburg and Schipluiden (e.g. Casparie et al. 1977; Kooistra and Hänninen 2008; Louwe Kooijmans and Kooistra 2006), alder remains most frequently used. In combination with the often wet and fluctuating environment at some sites, this would imply a rather quick decay (Casparie et al. 1977, p. 39). An experimental study by Smith and Orsler (1996, Tables 4–6) indicates that unsheltered, half-buried alder posts with a length of c. 60cm and a diameter of 5cm only lasted between 3.9 and 6 years. Of course there are many drawbacks to these studies, as well as many ways to extend the durability of alder wood in construction (e.g. Arnoldussen 2008, p. 89); nevertheless, the use-life of the posts was relatively short. This means they were targeted in the environment despite their short use-life.

Fig. 10.5
figure 5

Two of the alder posts documented at Swifterbant-S3, a typical element of the wetland building tradition. (Adapted from Casparie et al. 1977, Fig. 7)

This stresses a major point. People selected a non-durable wood species and on many sites used it in a non-stable environment. They therefore chose a strategy that required frequent repair and rebuilding of the complete structure, at least every couple of years. This cycle of repair and renewal was actively maintained, making it a meaningful activity. Both in archaeology and ethnography cycles of rebuilding and renewal have been synchronized to significant transitions in the lives of people and communities (burial, death, marriage etc.; e.g. Borić 2008; Cooney 2000; Gerritsen 2008; Helms 2007; Joyce 2007; Marshall 2000; Souvatzi 2008; Smyth 2006). Marshall (2000, pp. 75–77) for instance touches upon similar issues when discussing the Nuu-chah-nulth houses of the North American north-west coast people. There, a set of house planks is transported between a number of frames owned by a ‘house’. From a historical perspective the impression of permanence is enhanced by such a repeated practice of renewal, especially since there is a remarkable continuity in the placement and interior arrangement of these houses. Jones (2007, pp. 93–108) stresses that the durability of the house is an important means for social reproduction, but emphasizes the importance of social practices over durability. The high frequency of rebuilding in the wetlands seems to express a comparable importance of social practices and tradition over durability. It evokes a sense of re-affirmation, of continuity over time and in spite of (environmental) change (Amkreutz in press).

Other Practices of Repetition

The consistency in repeated practices and their performance in the same place is not confined to houses. Several other elements have been documented that seem to confirm a more general tradition. The first of these may be termed artificial surface modifications. Due to the environmental dynamics, several sites repeatedly suffered from flooding. At those sites evidence points to consolidation and management of living areas. At Swifterbant-S3 the living surface on the levee was heightened with wood chips and bundles of reed (e.g. De Roever 2004). At the fowling camp of Bergschenhoek, planks and canoe fragments, bundles of reed and small trees were used to strengthen the same location upon each return (see Louwe Kooijmans 1987). Similar practices were documented at Hüde (Stapel 1991, p. 6). People chose to reinforce their living areas in spite of repeated flooding and waterlogging, rather than to look for higher or dryer locations.

Other activities also point to repeated practices and place consistency. The Mesolithic sites of Polderweg and De Bruin demonstrate a graded use of space involving fixed areas of waste deposition and production and maintenance over more than two centuries. At Swifterbant-S3 activities and their debris clustered around the house structure, while dumps of ceramics were consistently centred on the hearths and those of bones on the flanks of the dune. A comparable fixation permanence of activities appeared on other sites such as Wateringen-4, Ypenburg, Schipluiden, Slootdorp and Vlaardingen (Amkreutz in press).

Hearths form another example. Their extensive use-life suggests they formed long-lasting foci of activity. At S3, some hearths, both inside and outside, were renewed in the same place over many years, several for almost a century (e.g. De Roever 2004, p. 32). Clay bases served as reinforcement and enabled place continuity. Comparably, at the Bergschenhoek fowling camp, a total of 38 layers relate to renewal of the same hearth in the same place for a period of c. 10 years (see Fig. 10.6). Other features such as water wells also show a distinct place continuity (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 2009).

Fig. 10.6
figure 6

The hearth at Bergschenhoek. This feature was maintained and tended every winter for at least 10 years. Note the layering in the stratigraphy (Photo: National Museum of Antiquities)

The repetition and place consistency documented for the features and practices above may not seem remarkable in themselves. Longer or frequent stays evoke a certain structuring of surroundings and space (Schiffer 1995). On the other hand, the consistency in place and over time in a wetland area characterized by physical and ecological change is remarkable and may have additional importance. The physical location of an activity or feature may have been as important an attribute as its function or performance. Certain elements and aspects of sites may in this sense have become meaningful centres of stability, anchor points around which life could evolve. These practices and features may have been part of a more consistent tradition that stressed stability and continuity through time in spite of environmental change and temporal absence. While functional motivations may run parallel, these other explanations deserve further attention.

Discussion

The specific building and habitation syntax discussed above should not be understood as the mere outcome of ‘living in a dynamic environment’, the result of seasonal mobility or a ‘least effort argument’ in favour of the use of alder. Several arguments, including the sedentary nature of some sites, have already been brought forward and it is evident that the functional aspect of these structures and practices should not become detached from their socio-symbolic importance (e.g. Carsten and Hugh-Jones 1995, p. 46; Casey 1996; Cooney 2000, p. 56; Ingold 2000, p. 187). This brings to the fore questions that engage with the underlying characteristics of living in the LRA wetlands and their margins and the specific flavour of inhabitation this may have brought about.

Keeping Things in Place

Throughout the Late Mesolithic and Neolithic occupation of the wetlands and wetland margins, settlement as well as satellite sites yielded conclusive evidence that structural site features as well as domestic practices are characterised by frequent repetition in combination with place continuity. Dwelling structures, fences, hearths, and other features are repaired and renewed in the same place. Hearths, burial grounds and extractive sites are maintained and revisited for decades, while wet circumstances and damp living conditions are countered by the labour-intensive consolidation of occupation surfaces. The patterns sometimes differ, but do accentuate common principles in practice. While part of this patterning may be the result of optimal behaviour, perhaps in combination with issues such as territoriality and ownership, this is essentially a top-down perspective. It interprets sites as the passive context for occupation and persistent places (cf. Schlanger 1992) as predominantly a result of long-term stasis in behaviour. This does not do justice to the active and dynamic role sites have, especially in a wetland landscape, nor to the way in which communities using them are recursively influenced by them.

If we place the relationship between people and their surroundings at the basis of our analysis, in line with the dwelling perspective (Ingold 2000), then it follows that the resulting behaviour is not purely functional, but the product of the dynamic interaction between people, landscape and environment over time. Places in this sense become meaningful locations where these (social) relations develop, where they anchor (Cooney 2000, 2007 p. 56). Architecture and repeated practices performed at these locations are then also an expression of wider cosmological beliefs and traditions (Cooney 2000). This means we have to assume that the continued activities of revisiting, repairing, maintaining and rebuilding, at specific, fixed locations in the landscape should be seen as meaningful behaviour. Keeping things in place may thus be perceived as a purposive activity characteristic of the ‘moral community’ (cf. Whittle 2003), i.e. the mentalité of these LRA wetland inhabitants.

The long-term nature of these practices adds an important sense of time, an awareness of past and future, of endurance. This offers a temporal perspective on the way habitation is bound to places and attuned to the rhythms of the surrounding environment (Ingold 2000; also see Pollard 1999, p. 79). The actual patterning over time, the cumulative outcome of this behaviour, is in itself importantly a product of memory.

Memory Maintenance

In determining the essence of the practices discussed here, it is the place continuity observed, in combination with the repetitive nature of the habitus of these communities, which points to acts of re-creation. The repeatedly raised surface at S3 enabled an extended use of the site while the fixed practices provided a sense of familiarity. Similarly, at Schipluiden the fixed settlement layout with house sites, yards and graves provided not only a sedentary site inhabited for c. 200 years (cf. Louwe Kooijmans 2009), but through practices of maintenance and renewal also a familiar encounter lasting some ten generations. A sense of stability and consistency in living conditions was thus actively created and the essence of livelihood was, as it were, stretched across time. A known and familiar environment was copied and consolidated by repetition and continuity.

This type of behaviour is guided by memory. Communities deal with and draw upon the past, by copying and repeating what has been (e.g. Bailey 2007; Thomas 1996b). The past serves as a reservoir for action in the present and future (Gerritsen 2008, p. 145) and memory acts as the conductor for binding these temporalities together. The manner in which this occurs in the places mentioned is mainly indexical (Jones 2007, pp 18–22): past material residues are encountered, recognized and reinterpreted, certain places are designated for this or that activity, remnants of previous structures outline a new one. Encountering and keeping in place actively indexes the past and consolidates the values attached to it. The past is not represented directly by new structures and repetition, but these act as indexes. A good example is formed by the well-known Japanese temples, structures which are perceived as ancient, but which have in fact been built and rebuilt unchanged for many centuries. It is the physical perdurance of material culture and the sensory engagement with it that acts as a means of presencing past events, in which material culture precipitates and evokes remembrance (Jones 2007, pp. 24–25).

The actual acts of remembrance may in this sense be perceived as an ontological activity. They were meaningful practices creating (an idea of) stability in society. Much of these practices were of an incorporating nature (Connerton 1989; Rowlands 1993), not making use of external media, but of bodily practices and skills. It is, however, likely that both work together in the transmission of memory (Gerritsen 2008, p. 145; Mills and Walker 2008, p. 7). Therefore it is not only the outcome of the practices, but also the activities themselves, performed in a distinct location, that are meaningful. These are in fact the acts of commemoration, binding people, objects, places, the environment, past and present together.

Performing Memory

The practices and place consistency mentioned above form a strong aspect of the formation of group identity. The way in which people, places and things resonate relative to each other and the periodicity and ‘rhythm’ of the social practices involved are central to this (cf. Lefebvre 2004). In this context, Jones (2007, p. 55; also see Mills and Walker 2008, p. 18) introduces the concept of ‘citation’. This means that for existing structural conditions (cf. Barrett 2000) to make sense, they have to reiterate part of similar conditions in the past. The past is therefore re-articulated for the future (Jones 2007, p. 55) and practices become historicized in extensive networks between humans and non-humans (Joyce 2008, p. 28). Stronger links are created between past and present in case of a higher frequency in practices of citation. For instance, the use of ephemeral material culture at many of the studied sites, such as alder wood, requires more frequent acts of citation in order to evoke memory. By repeating these frequent practices and re-creating the structural conditions, a sense of stability, an absence of change is created towards the observer.

With this in mind we return to the wetlands, because it is here (Van de Noort and O’Sullivan 2006, pp. 69, 94, 148) that the meaningful security that stable places evoke (e.g. Casey 1996, p. 18), and the way they are, often metaphorically, tied to identity (see Feld and Basso 1996; Tilley 2004, p. 222) is challenged. Many of the sites frequently flooded or drowned over time, and suffered from water and wind erosion, waterlogged conditions, ecological changes etc. This means that from the perspective of a human time span, places were not at all stable and in fact formed a strong indicator of the passing of time. At Hardinxveld, the landscape changed from an environment with much open water to a marsh forest within a millennium. Water level rose c. 3.5m (or 35cm per century) and the distance from the mainland in that time increased from 5 to 11km (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 2003). These changes were noticed; they influenced life at least at a generational level.

In view of this, the ontological security that issues from stable locations may have been under threat in the light of their changing and eventually diminishing appearance. Against this background the practices and place-consistency described above become meaningful. Both in a mobile system, as well as from a sedentary perspective, sites were not given up easily. Surface consolidation, clay bases and reinforcements may have functioned to ‘fix’ sites in time. The same was achieved by keeping things in place, by renewing and rebuilding structures in the same spot and by regularly performing the activities associated with them. It created a sense of stability, evoking and maintaining memory from an external, observable perspective. Central to this image are the incorporating practices described above, practically weaving memory into these places. Inhabitants therefore are never placeless, but instead help to emplace, to constitute places (see also Geertz 1996). These, in turn, possess an important capacity for triggering acts of self-reflection, inspiring thoughts about who one presently is, memories of who one used to be or might become (Basso 1996, p. 55). This ‘weds’ the physical landscape to the landscape of the mind and makes places and their structures central to identity. As argued by Cooney (2000, p. 71), it is the countless repetition of activities, of routine that is at the heart of what carries on life. In the LRA wetlands, ‘freezing’ sites in time may have been an important way of keeping in control, of trying to slow down change by keeping things in place, safeguarding social survival and identity.

Creating Persistent Places

It was demonstrated that durable activities of repetition and place consistency are common to the sites in the wetlands and wetland margins. It may be argued that an ideology of renewal was at work (see also Whittle 2003, p. 72). Continuity was affirmed and proclaimed (Helms 2007, pp. 501–502) in view of dynamic surroundings. Interpreting these place-bound activities from a distinct socio-symbolical point of view objectifies underlying practices and makes these meaningful with respect to memory, place and identity. Their existence underlines the importance of place in a changing landscape.

While the considerations above focus on the short- to mid-term scale of generations, it may be productive to briefly adopt a longer-term perspective and focus on these practices and traditions over extended periods of time. The legitimacy in this approach is not self-evident, in reality traditions may change over time, or similar patterns may not always have similar causes. However, the longer-term patterns that can be established eventually originate from the quotidian routine practices that form the ‘everyday’ context of existence (e.g. Whittle 2003, p. 22), they are built from them. While we cannot extrapolate the practices described above over millennia, they find themselves on a continuous scale. This means that the dynamics underlying the short-term rhythms may also reflect on the longer-term patterns analysed here (Foxhall 2000; Gerritsen 2008; Goodman 1999; Ingold 1993, 2000; Lefebvre 2004).

If we focus on the biography of many sites in the region, there is considerable evidence for a long-term commitment to places over time. A certain ‘life history’ can be detected that may span many centuries (Amkreutz in press). Despite occupational hiatuses, sites are characterized by a changing but repeated use until they become uninhabitable. Even places that were not used may have remained important markers or nodes on community ‘mental maps’ (e.g. Bradley 2000; Politis 2007, p. 148). These refer to the totality of physically existing places as well as locations of cosmological or other importance that may not be delimited or pinpointed and that are all defined in a community’s regional geography. These places formed part of a network and were rather given new meaning than abandoned (Feld 1996). This means the sites studied here may also have served as important spatio-temporal markers anchoring community identity from an essentially long-term perspective spanning centuries rather than generations. To what extent continuity within this perspective was deliberately created remains difficult to establish. Nevertheless, there seems considerable evidence for ongoing practices of long-term care, maintenance and investment characterizing the relationship between communities and places in the LRA wetlands at different temporal scales.

Conclusion

This overview of the habitation and building practices that characterized the Neolithic in the wetlands and their margins between c. 5500 and 2500 cal BC has brought to light a number of important characteristics, both with respect to the general habitation of the area and the process of Neolithisation.

It is evident that the building traditions of the LRA wetlands and their margins contrast with the classic Neolithic building traditions that are usually seen as ‘part of the package’, as for instance Bandkeramik and later Danubian houses, or later Neolithic monumentality. Therefore the symbolic connotations that may have surrounded these houses and monuments are not appropriate to study the situation in the delta of the north-west European plain (also see Last 1996, p. 40), where foundation deposits and similar distinct indicators of ritual behaviour relating to the built environment are also absent. Instead, we need to zoom in on the particularities of the mosaic (Tringham 2000; Whittle and Cummings 2007) and adopt a bottom-up approach dealing with practices and traditions from a coherent regional context.

If we do so for the LRA wetlands and their margins, an interesting picture emerges in which building practices, structures and other activities form a characteristic tradition rather rooted in the earlier Mesolithic practices of inhabiting this region than in any distinctly Neolithic practice. This specific regional tradition, however, does span the transition to agriculture, taking place between 5000 and 2500 cal BC, during which characteristic Neolithic hallmarks such as pottery, domesticates, cultigens and sedentism became (partially) adopted. It is characterized by frequent maintenance and rebuilding of (dwelling) structures in the same place, the use of non-durable building materials and an overall consistency in the use of places and the practices performed at them. From a long-term perspective, it seems to have been very consistent spanning generations and to some extent centuries.

In this paper I have tried to explain the characteristics of this ‘vernacular tradition’ (cf. Rapoport 1969) beyond the boundaries of a purely functional or economic interpretation. This was achieved by adopting a dwelling perspective (cf. Ingold 2000) in which the characteristic habitation of the area, and its specific building traditions were contextualized by combining them with their environmental context and positioning them in time. Against the background of the environmental and physical dynamics of the wetland landscape, these practices became meaningful as they served as a way to create (the idea of) stability and continuity with respect to place and in the face of changing and unstable surroundings. As such, this habitus (Bourdieu 1977) of building, renewing and keeping things in place may be interpreted as ontologically meaningful activities with respect to securing and transmitting a certain wetland way of life as well as socio-cultural identity.

What the LRA wetland houses, building tradition and use of place demonstrate is that research into the Neolithic and Neolithic houses should not automatically be undertaken from the traditional perspective of a process of Neolithisation involving the transition to agriculture in combination with sedentism and new building traditions. Similarly, we have to abandon the idea that this transition in any way has to imply any socio-symbolical shift or different attitude towards the wild (cf. Hodder 1990) in order to incorporate new Neolithic elements (see also Barnard 2007; Descola 1994; Ingold 2000). In line with the gradual incorporation of domesticates and cultigens, which became part of an extended broad spectrum subsistence (Louwe Kooijmans 2007), the partial development of sedentism alongside other options, the continuity in building tradition and habitation practices in general indicate an absence of any direct change, shift or Neolithic influence. Instead they demonstrate an extensive and long-lived tradition of gradually changing while keeping things in place. When tracking the Neolithic house across Europe we should thus be aware that the people living there already were at home.