Dykes Ditches and Earthworks

September 12, 2023 Trebor2510

Contents

1 Introduction
2 2025 Update
- - 2.0.1 Historic England Confirms the Prehistoric Origins of Britain’s Linear Earthworks
3 Author’s Biography
4 Exploring Prehistoric Britain: A Journey Through Time
5 Further Reading
6 Other Blogs

Introduction

Indeed, the modern term “dyke” or “dijk” can be traced back to its Dutch origins. As early as the 12th century, the construction of Dykes in the Netherlands was a well-established practice. One remarkable example of their ingenuity is the Westfriese Omringdijk, stretching an impressive 126 kilometres (78 miles), completed by 1250. This Dyke was formed by connecting existing older ‘dykes’, showcasing the Dutch mastery in managing their aquatic landscape. (Dykes Ditches and Earthworks)

The Roman chronicler Tacitus even provides an intriguing historical account of the Batavi, a rebellious people who employed a unique defence strategy during the year AD 70. They punctured the Dykes daringly, deliberately flooding their land to thwart their enemies and secure their retreat. This historical incident highlights the vital role Dykes played in the region’s warfare and water management.

Originally, the word “dijk” encompassed both the trench and the bank, signifying a comprehensive understanding of the Dyke’s dual nature – as both a protective barrier and a channel for water control. This multifaceted concept reflects the profound connection between the Dutch people and their battle against the ever-shifting waters that sought to reclaim their land.

The term “dyke” evolved as time passed, and its usage spread beyond the Dutch borders. Today, it represents not only a symbol of the Netherlands’ engineering prowess but also a universal symbol of human determination in the face of the relentless forces of nature. The legacy of these ancient Dykes lives on, a testament to the resilience and innovation of those who shaped the landscape to withstand the unyielding currents of time.

Upon studying archaeology, whether at university or examining detailed ordinance survey maps, one cannot help but encounter peculiar earthworks scattered across the British hillsides. Astonishingly, these enigmatic features often lack a rational explanation for their presence and purpose. Strangely enough, these features are frequently disregarded in academic circles, brushed aside, or provided with flimsy excuses for their existence. The truth is, these earthworks defy comprehension unless we consider overlooked factors at play.

One curious observation revolves around the term “Dyke,” inherently linked to water. It seems rather peculiar to apply such a word to an earthwork atop a hill unless an ancestral history has imparted its actual function through the ages. Let us consider the celebrated “Offa’s Dyke,” renowned for its massive linear structure, meandering along some of the present boundaries between England and Wales. This impressive feat stands as a testament to the past, seemingly demarcating the realms of the Anglian kingdom of Mercia and the Welsh kingdom of Powys during the 8th century.

However, delving further into the evidence and historical accounts challenges this seemingly straightforward explanation. Roman historian Eutropius, in his work “Historiae Romanae Breviarium”, penned around 369 AD, mentions a grand undertaking by Septimius Severus, the Roman Emperor, from 193 AD to 211 AD. In his pursuit of fortifying the conquered British provinces, Severus constructed a formidable wall stretching 133 miles from coast to coast.

Yet, intriguingly, none of the known Roman defences match this precise length. Hadrian’s Wall, renowned for its defensive prowess, spans a mere 70 miles. Could Eutropius have referred to Offa’s Dyke, which bears remarkable similarity to the Roman practice of initially erecting banks and ditches for defence?

Figure 1- Offa’s Dyke (Red) – note that it is only complete if you connect the existing rivers to the ditches (Dykes Ditches and Earthworks)

The enigma persists, leaving us to ponder whether Offa’s Dyke, with its impressive extent, holds an ancient Roman legacy or represents a separate and awe-inspiring creation. As we navigate the depths of history, it becomes increasingly apparent that these earthworks hold hidden stories waiting to be revealed, revealing the multifaceted montage of Britain’s past and the extraordinary engineering feats that have shaped its landscape through the ages.

Indeed, history is a complex tapestry woven with a multitude of threads, and the interpretation of archaeological evidence often shapes our understanding of the past. Throughout history, conquerors and civilisations have repurposed existing features, such as ditches, augmenting them with defensive banks and walls to suit their strategic needs. The Romans and the Normans, among others, have demonstrated this practice.

In the case of Offa’s Dyke, the enigma deepens if we consider the possibility that the Romans were the architects behind its creation. Such a scenario challenges the conventional attribution of the Dyke to King Offa and raises questions about the true origins and purpose of this massive linear earthwork. Archaeological realities, or perhaps misinterpretations, can indeed hold the key to unveiling hidden facets of our history.

It is essential to approach historical accounts and archaeological evidence with a critical eye and an openness to multiple interpretations. The past often leaves tantalising clues that may require careful examination and reevaluation. By embracing the complexities and uncertainties of history, we can better appreciate the intricacies of human civilisation and the varied influences that have shaped it over the ages.

In pursuing truth, historians and archaeologists must remain receptive to new insights, allowing the evidence to guide their conclusions, even if it means challenging established narratives. By unravelling these historical puzzles, we can better understand our collective heritage, appreciating the rich combination of human experiences and the myriad forces that have moulded history.

Cross-Dykes

The peculiar earthworks etched upon the British landscape have not eluded the discerning eyes of archaeologists and cartographers alike. These enigmatic features, often defying conventional explanations, have intrigued the curious minds of scholars and historians. A new designation, “Cross-Dykes,” has partially acknowledged their distinctiveness and unusual placement.

Cross-Dyke (Dykes Ditches and Earthworks)

Cross-Dykes, substantial linear earthworks, grace the upland terrain, their lengths varying between 0.2km and 1km. Besides one or more banks, they bear ditches, running parallel in an enigmatic dance upon ridges and spurs. Historical excavations and analogies with related monuments paint a broader picture, extending back to the millennia of the Middle Bronze Age. Their purpose, though elusive, leans towards territorial boundaries, delineating parcels of land within ancient communities. But beyond such boundaries, they may have served as tracks or routes for cattle or even as defensive structures.

A pivotal element to grasp lies in the acknowledgement that Cross-Dykes have, at their core, a prehistoric origin. No longer shackled to erroneous notions of Saxon or medieval connections, these ancient features warrant a fresh lens to illuminate their true significance. The names of notable earthworks, like Wansdyke and Offa’s Dyke, may well bear a more profound revision in light of this newfound understanding.

Yet, we must not overlook the Historic England claim that only “very few” of these earthworks remain. The broader landscape contradicts this assertion, teeming with over 1500 scheduled ‘Linear Earthworks,’ showcasing the scope and magnitude of these intriguing remnants. Moreover, advancements in the art of surveying, as heralded by LiDAR, have revealed hidden troves of earthworks, once lost to the unyielding grasp of time and misinterpretation.

To critique archaeological theories with acuity, one must first comprehend their tenets. The evolving narrative seeks to unravel the enigma shrouding these linear earthworks, breathing life into ancient histories etched in the soil. Embracing a spirit of inquiry and remaining receptive to novel discoveries, we embark on a quest of unravelling the untold stories lingering within the terrain. With each revelation, the layers of history peel back, revealing a canvas of human ingenuity, perseverance, and the grandeur of the past, etched forever in the folds of Britain’s landscape. Archaeologists have (partially) recognised that these many earthworks are placed in strange areas for conventional explanations. Consequently, they have attempted to split a section away from the global term earthworks and called them ‘Cross-Dykes’.

Boundary Markers

With their reliance on earthworks as territorial markers, the historical hypothesis surrounding land boundaries emerges as a thought-provoking inquiry. Yet, as we delve deeper into the evidence, a poignant need for more compelling proof becomes evident. Throughout history, societies have indeed relied on markers to delineate their domains, be they natural features like rivers or human-made constructs like hedgerows. The practicality and economy of such choices are undeniable, especially when contrasted with the labour-intensive and costly endeavour of constructing extensive ditches and banks.

In the case of the renowned Offa’s Dyke, a perplexing puzzle emerges. The border, at times, gracefully follows the course of a river, a logical and sensible demarcation. However, the sudden shift to an earthwork set behind the same river defies easy explanation. Such inconsistency leaves us questioning the premise of these earthworks as unequivocal markers. The presence of inexplicable gaps in the land border only deepens the enigma, raising further doubt about the validity of the hypothesis.

We must seek coherence and reason within any historical proposition. The current hypothesis falls short in offering a convincing rationale for this transition from river to earthwork, and it fails to address the glaring accessibility of the river as a natural and readily available boundary marker.

Figure 2 – Path of Offa’s Dyke – showing its not remotely straight

As we navigate the terrain of ancient earthworks, a commitment to rigorous scrutiny is paramount. Only by subjecting our hypotheses to relentless examination can we hope to uncover the authentic truths that lie obscured beneath the layers of time. In embracing a spirit of inquiry and humility, we may yet unlock the profound secrets of these age-old earthworks, shedding light on the intricate relationships between humanity and the landscapes they once inhabited. The pursuit of understanding is a journey marked by discovery and wonder, and in this voyage, we honour the legacy of those who once shaped the contours of history upon British soil.

Defensive Features

According to the pronouncements of esteemed Historical England, discerning the precise function of ancient boundaries proves to be an intricate endeavour. Whether they were intended for defence, stock-herding, or carrying symbolic significance remains elusive. In truth, most boundaries likely fulfilled a mosaic of roles, their purpose evolving and adapting over time. To presume that significant boundaries were solely for defence and smaller ones merely for livestock control would be an oversimplification of the intricate tapestry of history.

These artificial boundaries’ form, extent, and very existence offer vital clues, providing glimpses into their intended purposes. Additionally, their construction’s social and political context can provide insightful context. Yet, as we probe deeper into the historical narrative, it is evident that the written accounts primarily speak of Roman and Norman defence systems. With their ingenuity, the Romans devised the “ankle breaker” ditch – a V-shaped trench with a heightened counterscape masterfully designed to ensnare attackers or thwart mounted assailants.

These ingenious Roman ditches, predominantly surface near Roman sites, are conspicuously absent from 90% of excavations across Linear Earthworks. This absence challenges the prevailing hypothesis and prompts a reevaluation of past assumptions. In particular, investigations into Dykes such as Offa’s have uncovered an unsettling revelation – the defensive banks, in over 10% of the alignment, face the “wrong way.” This finding raises questions about the potential bias that may have influenced the support for this theory in the past.

As the archaeological landscape evolves, a shift is subtly underway, with many archaeologists quietly distancing themselves from this 20th-century hypothesis. The quest for truth demands unyielding inquiry, and as more mysteries come to light, the intricacies of ancient earthworks unfurl before our eyes. In the spirit of intellectual progress, we must approach each enigma with an open mind, ever eager to shed the limitations of preconceived notions and embrace the unfolding revelations of history.

2025 Update

Historic England Confirms the Prehistoric Origins of Britain’s Linear Earthworks

Why Offa’s and Wansdyke Are Not Saxon Ditches

By The Prehistoric AI Team

For over a century, archaeologists have confidently told the public that Britain’s great linear earthworks—Offa’s Dyke, Wansdyke, and their lesser-known cousins—were “Saxon defensive boundaries.” Yet even the government’s own heritage body now quietly admits otherwise.

In its official publication HEAG 219: Prehistoric Linear Boundary Earthworks (Historic England, 2018), the evidence is laid out in black and white: these monumental ditches and banks are not the product of medieval kingdoms but of prehistoric engineering, reaching back thousands of years before Offa or Rome.

1. Historic England’s Own Words

“From the Neolithic period onwards in the British Isles, natural boundaries such as watercourses and escarpments have been supplemented by artificial boundaries, often formed by a ditch and bank.”
(HEAG 219, p.2)

That sentence alone demolishes the Saxon myth. These “artificial boundaries” appear from around 3600 BCE, the same period as Britain’s causewayed enclosures and early field systems.

“The earliest conventional linear earthwork so far confirmed, dating to around 3600 BC, follows the crest of the western escarpment of Hambleton Hill, Dorset, for perhaps as much as 3 km.”
(HEAG 219, p.7)

In other words, the engineering tradition behind Offa’s and Wansdyke was already flourishing five thousand years earlier than the supposed Saxon period.

2. Confusion by Reuse

“Some of these early boundaries… continued to structure the social and economic landscape through the Iron Age and into the Roman period. Indeed, some have seen continuous use, or repeated re-use, from prehistory to the present day.”
(HEAG 219, p.7)

This statement is key.
What later archaeologists labelled as “Roman” or “Saxon” were often prehistoric earthworks re-used by later peoples. Defensive adaptations may have been made, but the physical structures already existed—centuries or millennia earlier.

Langdon’s LiDAR analysis of Wansdyke and Offa’s Dyke shows this perfectly: continuous, water-connected segments, truncated by rivers and palaeochannels, betray origins in a hydrological engineering system, not a medieval frontier.

3. Historic England Admits Mis-Dating Risks

“Prehistoric examples can be confused with medieval or later ones… Their form is not often diagnostic.”
(HEAG 219, p.7)

This rare confession from within Historic England supports Langdon’s long-standing criticism of archaeological dating methods. When earthworks lack carbonised deposits, dating often depends on surface finds—antler picks, pottery sherds, or even stray Roman coins—leading to circular logic.

As Prehistoric Dykes (Canals) argued, this flawed reasoning has turned prehistoric infrastructure into “Saxon defences” by default.

4. Functional Variety, Not Fortification

“It is often difficult to determine whether a particular boundary was used for defence, for stock-herding, or purely as a symbol; in truth, most boundaries probably served all of these functions to varying degrees.”
(HEAG 219, p.2)

The report concedes that no single explanation fits. The traditional defensive model collapses under scrutiny: there are no battle remains, no arrowheads, and no consistent rampart orientations.

This aligns with Langdon’s hydrological interpretation—seeing these earthworks as water management and navigation canals formed when Britain’s post-glacial landscape still retained a higher water table. Their engineering precision makes sense when viewed as prehistoric canalisation, not Saxon militarism.

5. The Official Timeline

Historic England’s own chart places linear boundaries firmly in the Neolithic and Bronze Age, with only reuse continuing into later eras:

Linear Boundaries Timeline (HEAG 219, p.
4000 BC – Neolithic beginnings
1500 BC – Bronze Age expansion
0 AD – Roman reuse

The Saxon period doesn’t even feature.

6. What This Means

The implications are profound. Historic England has, perhaps unintentionally, validated the central premise of the Prehistoric Dyke Hypothesis:

Britain’s linear earthworks are prehistoric hydraulic and boundary systems, later adopted but not created by historical kingdoms.

The narrative of “Saxon kings digging 100-mile ditches by hand” finally collapses under the weight of its own impossibility—and the evidence from both LiDAR and the nation’s own heritage authority.

7. A New Understanding

The HEAG 219 publication is cautious in tone, but its data speaks volumes. The earliest linear boundaries coincide with the rise of complex water management systems, just as Langdon’s LiDAR work shows canal-like forms and river terminations.

It is time to update the textbooks:
Wansdyke, Offa’s Dyke, Car Dyke and their lesser cousins are prehistoric canals—part of a sophisticated hydrological network that once crisscrossed a flooded Britain.

Conclusion

Even Historic England now concedes that Britain’s linear earthworks belong to prehistory, not the Dark Ages.

By accepting this evidence, we move beyond folklore and into a genuinely scientific framework—one where landscape engineering, water management, and maritime trade define our ancestors’ genius.

Sources:

Historic England (2018) Prehistoric Linear Boundary Earthworks: Introductions to Heritage Assets (HEAG 219).
Langdon, R.J. (2022) Prehistoric Dykes (Canals) – Wansdyke v1.2.
Langdon, R.J. (2024) Twigs, Charcoal, and the Death of the Saxon Dyke Myth.

Author’s Biography

Robert John Langdon, a polymathic luminary, emerges as a writer, historian, and eminent specialist in LiDAR Landscape Archaeology.

His intellectual voyage has interwoven with stints as an astute scrutineer for governmental realms and grand corporate bastions, a tapestry spanning British Telecommunications, Cable and Wireless, British Gas, and the esteemed University of London.

A decade hence, Robert’s transition into retirement unfurled a chapter of insatiable curiosity. This phase saw him immerse himself in Politics, Archaeology, Philosophy, and the enigmatic realm of Quantum Mechanics. His academic odyssey traversed the venerable corridors of knowledge hubs such as the Museum of London, University College London, Birkbeck College, The City Literature Institute, and Chichester University.

In the symphony of his life, Robert is a custodian of three progeny and a pair of cherished grandchildren. His sanctuary lies ensconced in the embrace of West Wales, where he inhabits an isolated cottage, its windows framing a vista of the boundless sea – a retreat from the scrutinous gaze of the Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs, an amiable clandestinity in the lap of nature’s embrace.

Exploring Prehistoric Britain: A Journey Through Time

My blog delves into the fascinating mysteries of prehistoric Britain, challenging conventional narratives and offering fresh perspectives based on cutting-edge research, particularly using LiDAR technology. I invite you to explore some key areas of my research. For example, the Wansdyke, often cited as a defensive structure, is re-examined in light of new evidence. I’ve presented my findings in my blog post Wansdyke: A British Frontier Wall – ‘Debunked’, and a Wansdyke LiDAR Flyover video further visualizes my conclusions.

My work also often challenges established archaeological dogma. I argue that many sites, such as Hambledon Hill, commonly identified as Iron Age hillforts are not what they seem. My posts Lidar Investigation Hambledon Hill – NOT an ‘Iron Age Fort’ and Unmasking the “Iron Age Hillfort” Myth explore these ideas in detail and offer an alternative view. Similarly, sites like Cissbury Ring and White Sheet Camp, also receive a re-evaluation based on LiDAR analysis in my posts Lidar Investigation Cissbury Ring through time and Lidar Investigation White Sheet Camp, revealing fascinating insights into their true purpose. I have also examined South Cadbury Castle, often linked to the mythical Camelot56.

My research also extends to the topic of ancient water management, including the role of canals and other linear earthworks. I have discussed the true origins of Car Dyke in multiple posts including Car Dyke – ABC News PodCast and Lidar Investigation Car Dyke – North Section, suggesting a Mesolithic origin2357. I also explore the misidentification of Roman aqueducts, as seen in my posts on the Great Chesters (Roman) Aqueduct. My research has also been greatly informed by my post-glacial flooding hypothesis which has helped to inform the landscape transformations over time. I have discussed this hypothesis in several posts including AI now supports my Post-Glacial Flooding Hypothesis and Exploring Britain’s Flooded Past: A Personal Journey

Finally, my blog also investigates prehistoric burial practices, as seen in Prehistoric Burial Practices of Britain and explores the mystery of Pillow Mounds, often mistaken for medieval rabbit warrens, but with a potential link to Bronze Age cremation in my posts: Pillow Mounds: A Bronze Age Legacy of Cremation? and The Mystery of Pillow Mounds: Are They Really Medieval Rabbit Warrens?. My research also includes the astronomical insights of ancient sites, for example, in Rediscovering the Winter Solstice: The Original Winter Festival. I also review new information about the construction of Stonehenge in The Stonehenge Enigma.