Maud Cunnington (part 2)

In this blog post, Maddie Watson, a finalist Modern History and Politics student at the University of Southampton, introduces their work on Maud Cunnington as part of their Beyond Notability Internship, run by Southampton Digital Humanities. In this part, Maddie follows the traces of Maud into the Wiltshire countryside.

The first part of their blog can be read here.

Oliver’s Camp, 1907

I visited the Iron Age hill fort of Oliver’s Camp (Roundway Hill) with my mum on a cold, blustery day in December. The recent rain had transformed the usually reliable tracks into a sea of mud, challenging our every step as we ascended to the summit. In grappling with the slippery terrain (lacking sensible footwear), I couldn’t help but imagine the struggles faced by the Cunningtons without access to modern roads and vehicles. Panoramic views of Wiltshire spanned for miles from the top, and the hill’s lonely trees swayed in the wind. Looking around, memories of my bygone years played out before me: the joy of family walks, shared picnics, and convivial drinks with friends; the exhilaration of sledging down the hill’s steep banks in the winter, and the poignant recollection of dates and arguments. The hill, once a backdrop for my childhood escapades, revealed a hidden secret – two Bronze Age Barrows nestled in its soft curvatures. The same land that bore witness to ancient burials generously accommodated the playful exploration of my childhood self, providing a nurturing foundation for my future understanding of archaeology and history. No doubt, the landscape witnessed generations of children like me growing up, creating an unspoken bond between past and present.

Two Bronze Age round barrows at Oliver’s Camp, Wiltshire.

The landscape also witnessed Maud Cunnington’s archaeological endeavours and the significance of this site to the development of her report writing. Maud worked closely with her husband, Ben Cunnington. As described by R.H. Cunnington,

‘[he] would usually act as a pioneer, with one of the men opening up the ground for subsequent excavation… …Maud’s part was to decide what should be dug, and in what order, and to exercise general supervision’ (Roberts, 2002, 49).

Following the fieldwork, Maud was once again in charge and studied the finds, drew up the records, and wrote the excavation reports. Interestingly, despite Ben’s background in journalism and historical writing, Maud assumed the primary role in report creation. Ben would only ‘correct the style, not the matter: his admiration for her and her work was too deep to ever call that in question’ (Roberts, 2002, 50). Maud ‘realised that her own style was too romantic and insufficiently scientific’ and moved towards a factual presentation, supported with diagrams, detailed contextual information, and the inclusion of an explicit research strategy (Roberts, 2002, 50-1). She attempted to emulate that of her peers, using the work of Pitt-Rivers as guidance, whom she met during his excavations in Wansdyke a few years earlier. R.H. Cunnington praised the holistic nature of Maud’s reports, however, he claimed that she ‘had no gift for writing’ (Roberts, 2002, 50). This criticism seems severe when considering the rapid development of her writing style and growth in archaeological knowledge. Maud’s newfound expertise and insights from this excavation allowed her to identify a lack of earthwork exploration that surpassed the superficial examinations typically conducted by relic hunters.

Beyond academic circles, Maud’s long-term focus was to make historical and archaeological knowledge accessible to the public. The substantial body of her work included public lectures, published books, and articles contributed to the Wiltshire Archaeological and Natural History Magazine (WANHM), The Archaeological Journal, and Antiquity. This commitment led to her being recognised as one of the foremost archaeologists of her day, receiving a CBE in 1948 for her contributions to British archaeology.

However, Maud was heavily criticised by archaeologists such as Keiller for her rapid publication of excavation reports, branding them as amateur and insubstantial. Roberts (2002) noted that Michael Pitts (2000) echoed similar sentiments to Keiller and his contemporaries, claiming that Maud excavated too quickly and did not keep proper records. Such opinions highlight the difference in methods between an older and a younger generation, as well as the evolution of the aims of archaeological publications. Maud wrote primarily from a visibility-raising perspective, at a time when archaeological journals and magazines were considered to be public-facing publications for education and finance raising. In the 1920s, when Keiller came onto the scene, archaeological reporting began to change to a more scientific nature, explaining their apparent disdain for the older techniques used by Maud. Personal animosity from Keiller’s time undoubtedly influenced the next generation of archaeologists to be critical of her work and to deplore her methods. It is important to acknowledge that the methods used by Maud and her contemporaries of her time laid the foundations for the approaches later adopted by Keiller.

All Canning’s Cross, 1911

The discovery of an Iron Age village at All Canning’s Cross was pivotal in making ‘Maud Cunnington’s name as an archaeologist outside the confines of Wiltshire’ (Roberts, 2002, 52). All Canning’s Cross is unparalleled in significance as the first site in which the emergence of Iron Age technology was identified in Britain. Ironically, the Cunningtons began their self-funded excavations unaware of the site’s importance. The revelation of substantial amounts of pottery, bone tools, as well as bronze and iron tools, added an unexpected, but exciting layer to their archaeological journey. Though I did not personally explore this site, I was aware of its historical significance, having seen artefacts from the site in the Devizes Museum. The excavations at All Canning’s Cross were interrupted by World War One, as well as by the loss of the Cunningtons’ son Edward in 1917.

Kendrick and Hawkes (1932, 160) lauded Maud’s excavation report as ‘one of the finest publications in recent years.’ This accolade highlights the excellence of her work, as well as signifying Muad’s burgeoning confidence in her archaeological abilities and the development of original ideas on prehistory. This newfound assurance would eventually influence her interpretations of future excavations, such as her work on Woodhenge in 1926. The lessons learned and confidence gained at the excavation of All Canning’s Cross contributed to her perspectives on unravelling the mysteries of prehistoric sites.

Woodhenge (Durrington), 1926-7

On the same day that I explored Oliver’s Camp, my journey through ancient landscapes led me to the site of Woodhenge, a Neolithic wonder near Stonehenge. Enclosed by multiple timber concentric ovals, marked by unassuming concrete posts, Woodhenge unfolded before me. The site was discovered by aerial photography in 1925 and was excavated shortly after by the Cunningtons.

Woodhenge, Salisbury.

As I stood among the colour-coded posts, I remembered my initial underwhelmed reaction to the site as a child, assuming its insignificance in comparison to Stonehenge’s impressive structure. Now, the ambiguity of the site intrigues me. It is hard to imagine Woodhenge in its original form, with wooden pillars standing as high as 9 metres tall. The accompanying drawing by Peter Lorimer assisted with visualising the site’s previous atmospheric nature.

Reconstruction of Woodhenge, © Peter Lorimer.

In the centre of Woodhenge, there was a grave marked by a flint cairn, from which the crouched inhumation of a young child had been excavated. Upon the cairn rested small offerings of pennies, hair bands, and small pebbles, a modern votive tribute to an ancestor created by archaeology (Williams, 2016). In the summer, it is common to see floral offerings here as well. The centrality of the grave to the monument forces visitors, both adults and children, to consider infant death and mortality and the fragility of life. The temporal distance between the burial and the present intensifies the enduring nature of human sympathy and the universal experience of grief.

Flint cairn at the centre of Woodhenge.

Woodhenge’s profound layers became apparent through the captivating dance between the Neolithic past and the present manifested through these offerings. However, Woodhenge’s narrative extends beyond its physical remnants and intertwines with Maud Cunnington’s controversial interpretations. In 1929, Maud wrote detailed excavation reports, but her interpretation of the monument as a prototype for Stonehenge stirred heated debates within archaeological circles. She drew similarities between the monuments due to the northeast-to-southwest alignment of the oval post rings at Woodhenge that was the same as Stonehenge. Both monument’s entrances were built to align with the midsummer sunrise.

Maud asserted that based on misdated pottery at Woodhenge, Stonehenge was a single-phase monument of Iron Age date. This claim was greatly ridiculed and is partly responsible for her diminished reputation. Roberts asserts that Maud’s argument was continually flawed despite the demonstration of logic in turning to Stonehenge for comparisons:

‘Because she wanted Woodhenge to be a model for Stonehenge every possible shred of evidence was used to prove this and anything which contradicted her argument was ignored or distorted’ (Roberts, 2002, 53).

However, only hindsight disproved Maud’s interpretation of Woodhenge. Maud’s commitment to public awareness led to the fundraising of money to purchase the sites of Woodhenge and Stonehenge to place them into public ownership. This ensured that the sites would stand as educational and inspirational resources for generations to come. By doing so, Maud Cunnington contributed significantly to the democratisation of archaeological knowledge, allowing everyone to engage with and be inspired by the rich tapestry of prehistory. Her legacy serves as a reminder of the importance of preserving our collective history for generations to come.

List of works consulted:

Cunnington, M. (1930) ‘Stonehenge and the two-date theory’, The Antiquaries Journal, 10(2), pp. 103-113.

English Heritage (n.d.) History of Woodhenge. Available at: (Accessed: 22 January 2024).

Historic England (1972) 33 and 33A, Long Street. Available at: (Accessed: 6 February 2024).

Kendrick, T.D. and Hawkes, C.F.C. (1932) Archaeology in England and Wales, 1914-1931. London: Methuen.

Moshenska, G. (2016) ‘Maud Cunnington’, Trowelblazers, 16 April. Available at: (Accessed: 16 January 2024).

Pitts, M. (2000) Hengeworld. London: Century.

Roberts, J. (2002) ‘That terrible woman’: the life, work and legacy of Maud Cunnington’, The Wiltshire Archaeological and Natural History Magazine, 95, pp. 46-62.

Smith, B. (2000) The Gender of History: Men, Women, and Historical Practice. Harvard: Harvard University Press.

Taylor, H. (n.d.) Six Groundbreaking Female Archaeologists. Available at: (Accessed: 16 January 2024).

Williams, H. (2016) ‘A Tomb of the Unknown Child: The Ancestor of Woodhenge’, Archaeodeath, 8 April. Available at: (Accessed: 23 January 2024).

Wiltshire Museum (n.d.) Pots excavated by Maud Cunnington. Available at: (Accessed: 22 December 2023)

Maud Cunnington (part 1)

In this blog post, Maddie Watson, a finalist Modern History and Politics student at the University of Southampton, introduces their work on Maud Cunnington as part of their Beyond Notability Internship, run by Southampton Digital Humanities. In this part, Maddie discusses their encounter with Maud via linked data and their exploration of her work as an archaeologist.

The second part of the blog can be read here.

I discovered Maud Cunnington on my first day working on the Beyond Notability Project in November 2023. She left an indelible mark on Wiltshire with excavations dating back to 1897, conducted alongside her husband, Ben Cunnington. Maud was used as an example when teaching me to create linked data, and I recognised that she lived in Devizes (my hometown). My interest was immediately piqued due to my curiosity about local history, as well as the evidence of her extensive work in archaeology. Before engaging with this internship, my academic background did not encompass any direct engagement with archaeological studies. Therefore, I was surprised by the extent of women’s participation in the field, exemplified by the data the Beyond Notability project have assembled about Maud, particularly given the considerable gendered barriers to achieving such involvement.

The Wiltshire Museum, Devizes.

As I delved deeper into the project and entered more data, I discovered places that Maud had excavated, lived, or worked at, that I also recognised. For example, her involvement with the Wiltshire Archaeological and Natural History Society (WANHS) connected her to the Wiltshire Museum, where I spent much time as a child and now volunteer. To enrich the narratives of women active in archaeology, the Wiltshire Museum displays many artefacts unearthed by Maud, alongside her writing desk and information regarding her excavations.

Over the Christmas holiday, as I embarked on the journey to explore sites associated with Maud, I found myself traversing familiar paths of my childhood and teenage years. The places that were once a backdrop to my adventures gained a new significance, layered with her historical presence. Walking through these sites, I couldn’t help but feel a connection to both the past and present. The playgrounds of my youth now shared space with the echoes of an accomplished archaeologist who had left her mark on the ground I once explored with boundless curiosity. It encouraged me to reflect on Maud’s legacy, as well as how our experiences as women undoubtedly differed despite similarities in our academic disciplines.

As an intern, the journey of adding various women to the Beyond Notability database has been an enlightening process allowing me to compare the contributions of women in the archaeological field. Sharon Howard’s visualisations of Beyond Notability project data have greatly assisted with understanding general trends in categories of contribution, such as correspondence, excavations, and work. From this, I have been able to interpret how women’s contributions interlink. For example, Maud’s excavations between 1908 and 1930 were atypical, as according to the data we have assembled few women who partook in such activity during this period. However, for the same date range, the correspondence category suggests that women more commonly contributed to the field by reporting to and communicating with various archaeological committees.

Themes of gender, social standing, and personal tragedy unfolded as I examined Maud’s contribution to archaeology through the lens of three pivotal excavations: Oliver’s Camp (1907), All Canning’s Cross (1911), and Woodhenge (1926). Maud’s educated, middle-class background and marriage into an equally sheltered line of Wiltshire antiquarians made archaeology an accessible vocation in comparison to women of a lower socio-economic background. Particularly, her residence at 33 Long Street, Devizes, with its distinctive Georgian architectural features and central location, served as a tangible testament to her high social standing.

33 Long Street, Devizes. Previous home of Maud Cunnington.

Historian Julia Roberts quotes Maud’s nephew, Colonel R.H. Cunnington, to exemplify prevailing attitudes towards female participation in the field in the 19th and 20th centuries:

‘… a man ought to know any language or science he learns thoroughly: while a woman ought to know the same language and science only so far as may enable her to sympathise in her husband’s pleasure’ (Roberts, 2002, 47).

The prevailing perspective suggested that female participation in disciplines such as archaeology primarily held significance to humour her husband’s interests. Such limiting views fail to explain Maud’s unbounded enthusiasm for the discipline and highlight the lack of expectation for women to cultivate a personal interest in archaeology, as well as diminishing the recognition of their achievements. Maud became a member of WANHS in 1907, despite the members lists revealing very few women were involved alongside her. On the Beyond Notability database, only six other women are recorded as connected to WANHS at a similar time to Maud, and only three women are in the database as members of the society (though these numbers are skewed by archival research that has focuses on national bodies). The Beyond Notability project has unearthed a long-standing presence of women in the field who worked alongside their husbands. However, evidence of independent publishing suggests that these women were active participants contributing to the advancement of archaeological knowledge. Particularly, Maud’s publications underscored the fallacy of women’s involvement in the discipline to appease their husband’s interests.

Roberts contends that Maud’s accomplishments are overshadowed by her polarising personality, given that it countered traditional feminine values centred around domesticity and subservience. I find this to be an outdated argument, as Maud and the other women noted on the the Beyond Notability Wikibase are evidence of women of all classes engaging in roles outside of the home, therefore subverting the dominant ‘angel of the house’ narrative. Maud’s work faced continual dismissal by new male archaeologists, such as Alexander Keiller and Stuart Piggott, who found her difficult to work with due to differences in methods of record-taking and excavation.

Keiller began his involvement in archaeological work in 1922, while Piggott initiated his in 1927 on leaving school, a period spanning 25-30 years after Maud’s involvement commencing in 1897. Their dismissal of Maud is representative of a generational shift, though undoubtedly, these difficulties were exacerbated by Maud’s seemingly somewhat cantankerous personality. Overall, women had been active in archaeology for many years before Keiller and Piggott joined the scene in the 1920s, though it should not be discounted that attitudes towards women in the field were characterised by tolerance rather than genuine acceptance.

The second part of the Maddie’s blog on Maud Cunnington can be read here.

List of works consulted:

Historic England (1972) 33 and 33A, Long Street. Available at: (Accessed: 6 February 2024).

Howard, S. (2023) ‘PPAs and change over time’, BN notes, 12 December. Available at: (Accessed: 1 February 2024).

Moshenska, G. (2016) ‘Maud Cunnington’, Trowelblazers, 16 April. Available at: (Accessed: 16 January 2024).

Roberts, J. (2002) ‘That terrible woman’: the life, work and legacy of Maud Cunnington’, The Wiltshire Archaeological and Natural History Magazine, 95, pp. 46-62.

Smith, B. (2000) The Gender of History: Men, Women, and Historical Practice. Harvard: Harvard University Press.

Taylor, H. (n.d.) Six Groundbreaking Female Archaeologists. Available at: (Accessed: 16 January 2024).

Modelling Excavations with Wikibase

By Amara Thornton (Co-Investigator)

A fair few women in our database were involved in excavation. Their work spans a spectrum between informal digging, directed by one person who may or may not be ‘trained’, to a larger scale affair organised by multiple groups such as local excavation committees, learned societies, training institutions, and/or universities; including both paid and volunteer labour; and supported financially by public subscription, patronage, grants, or a combination of the lot. In order to indicate effectively both the potential complexity of archaeological sites in terms of staffing, and to provide ways to document the full range of ‘work’ on site, we have come up with a model for representing excavations as organisations.

James’s early handwritten first draft of our excavations model, Feb 2022.

We have two main properties that (at the moment) serve as the gateway to our excavation model: [member of excavation during archaeological field work] and [director of archaeological fieldwork]. The first excavation we modelled using these properties was the dig that took place over multiple seasons in the 1930s in Colchester. We used the excavation report Camulodonum: First Report on the Excavations at Colchester 1930-39 (an item on our database) as our main source.

The Introduction to Camulodonum provides the staff list for our model. In it, authors Mark Reginald Hull and Christopher Hawkes acknowledge by name a myriad of paid and unpaid men and women who worked on site. We created an item [Excavations at Colchester] and used the Introduction to provide a skeleton staff list and organisational framework for the excavation (Please note: the staff was absolutely larger than the number explicitly named in Hull and Hawkes’s Introduction).

The Introduction names 4 Directors (all men), 21 “voluntary assistants” (11 women and 10 men), and 4 “charge hands” (all men). The men listed as “charge hands” were most likely managing a other men (not named and credited for their labour in the final report) who were undertaking the heavy digging. The “charge hands” and the men who they managed were probably all paid for their work, though only access to the paylists from the excavation will tell us how much.

The Colchester dig was organised by the Colchester Excavation Committee and the Society of Antiquaries Research Committee – we have used a property [organised by] to link to entries for each group. The President of the Colchester Excavation Committee was Annie Pearson, Viscountess Cowdray. She served alongside various Colchester notables, and representatives from the Society of Antiquaries. The Society of Antiquaries Research Committee also provided funding out of their designated pot for the Colchester dig.  

The excavation model that we have used for Colchester is expandable. If, for example, we find the names of other people working (either as paid or unpaid labour) on site, we can add them using the property [member of the excavation team]. We can adjust job titles for any of the individuals listed, should we find more specific information elsewhere. We can add specifics about where people were working within the area being excavated, which could be useful if particular areas of the excavation are now designated archaeological sites with individual entries on Wikidata. If a particular named individual is associated with the discovery of an artefact in a museum collection, and the artefact is discoverable through a museum collection database, we could add a link to the artefact to their entry.

The model works for smaller-scale excavations as well. In 1904, the artist Jessie Mothersole, who is on our database, worked as a “lady artist” copying tomb paintings at Saqqara, Egypt, an ancient Egyptian necropolis and (both then and now) an archaeological site and tourist attraction. We created [Excavations at Saqqara 1] (because there were multiple seasons with slightly different staff) as an item and linked it to her entry. The director of this season at Saqqara was Margaret Murray, whose report on the dig provides details on some staff.  But one of the most valuable sources for outlining the staffing of this excavation is a short article written by Jessie Mothersole for the popular illustrated magazine Sunday at Home.   

In this article, Mothersole outlines that eleven Egyptian men and boys were clearing the tombs (digging out sand) to lay bare the tomb paintings so that they could be copied: “eight basket boys, two turyehs, and a reis”. She does not name any of these men and boys. In order to include them with what little information she provided, we created an item for [name unrecorded] which we could use to indicate the existence of each person, and give them a job title.

There were two Egyptian men that both Mothersole and Murray named in their writings on this season of work at Saqqara: Reis Khalifa and Reis Rubi, two experienced foremen who were based at Saqqara during the time. They were father and son. Both are also mentioned in the Service des Antiquities journal. Mothersole also names the servant who attended the three women on site, Ibrhim Abd-el-Karim. We added him and his job title to the members of the dig team.

We hope that this model for excavations helps to emphasise the critical factor on any dig: people. We may not know who they are, or even what exactly they were doing, but if we view any excavation as an organisation we can begin to give people the credit they are due for their work to reveal the past.