This notorious hoax, which confused thinking on human evolution through most of the first half of the twentieth century, was based on bits of bone unearthed in 1912 by Charles Dawson at Barkham Manor, at Piltdown near Uckfield in Sussex. Not very far from where I live. Dawson claimed that the jaw and skull fragments he found must, taken together, prove the existence of an ape-like man in primaeval Sussex - the veritable Missing Link that everyone had been seeking.
The find was controversial from the start. But nevertheless Dawson's claims got credence, and the backing of some of science's most respected figures - though by no means all. Dawson got the recognition he might well have craved. It was quite something for a local solicitor, a professional man, but still only a mere amateur. Mind you, he had been fossil-hunting for some time, was locally considered a talented (though amazingly lucky) archaeologist, and had made a few other significant finds already. Such as new species of dinosaur - he had been honoured with at least one of these beasts being named after him. I suppose it was inevitable that he'd set his heart on finding First Man as well. He was honoured in the same way. The creature was called Eoanthropus Dawsoni - Dawson's Dawn Man.
But it was all a hoax, exposed in 1953 by modern carbon dating. See the sorry tale in Wikipedia at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Dawson. And elsewhere. For instance, I have a book published in 1981 and bought by me in 1988 called Missing Links: The Hunt for Earliest Man by John Reader (ISBN 0-14-022808 X) which covers the matter in far greater detail. The finger of guilt pointed with overwhelming certainty at Dawson, although nothing has ever been absolutely proved. But Dawson's other discoveries were shown to be fakes as well. Wikipedia says that a yearning for international scientific recognition was the motive behind what he did. It's hard to think otherwise. It just shows: you can't trust solicitors with too much time on their hands!
Dawson did not enjoy his fame for long after Piltdown Man made headlines in 1912. Excavations continued at Piltdown, more bones being found. Here he is (seated) by some diggings. On the right is Arthur Smith Woodward, of the Natural History Museum in London, one of his champions.
But in 1915 he developed a blood disorder, and the poor chap died in 1916, taking the true details of his discoveries with him to the grave.
So where was that grave? I had no idea until two days ago, when taking a walk around Lewes, the characterful county town of East Sussex, as my permitted daily lockdown exercise. It was lovely sunny day, but rain was forecast for the afternoon, so for once I was exercising in daytime and not at sunset.
Having parked Fiona, I decided first to visit the churchyard of St John Sub Castro. This is a Victorian church built in an ancient spot not far from Lewes Castle - 'sub castro' being Latin for 'under the castle'. As an aside, 'submarine' translates as 'under the water' - I bet you didn't know the Romans had submarines? Thus was the Carthaginian fleet destroyed.
Cutting down a side street, the big church loomed ahead.
It was presently locked up, of course, but I knew from a previous visit some years ago, that the churchyard could be reached via a short lane on its right-hand side. The big iron gate opened easily for me. Within was an oasis of peaceful greenery. I have to confess, I like churchyards, and looking at gravestones. The original Saxon church, with origins older than the Norman castle (it didn't need the 'sub castro' suffix pre-1066) was too small for the nineteenth century population of this part of Lewes, so they demolished it and constructed the new and much larger church a short distance away. Some bits of the first church were incorporated into the walls. You can see an old doorway behind me in the next shot.
Lewes is a very historic place, and has information panels all over the place. There were a few in the churchyard. I was chiefly interested in seeing the Finnish Memorial again - an eye-catching monument to twenty-eight Finnish servicemen, captured in 1854 during the Crimean War. They had died of tuberculosis while being held as prisoners in Lewes. The Russian Czar paid for the Memorial. The story was on a panel:
Well, it was a fine day to have a closer look! But then something else on that panel caught my eye.
Oho! The Charles Dawson of Piltdown Man fame - or infamy. Buried near to the Finnish Monument. I'd definitely want to see that.
I made my ambling way down to the Monument. The light and shade, and the green peacefulness, was a tonic for the soul. Not hard exercise this! But no rozzer was going to come in here and challenge me.
There it was. The Finnish Monument.
The panels list the names of the men who died. Rather decent of the Czar to stump up the cash for this fine memorial one hundred and fifty years ago.
Now, where was Charles Dawson's grave? I looked around. Would it show some reference to his archaeological finds? A gravestone capped by a carved skull for instance, of a creature half ape, half human? He died with his reputation unsullied: surely his widow would have got permission from the ecclesiastical authorities to celebrate his achievements?
Well, here it was. A rather modest grave, with a carved cross, but the carvings were of roses, tulips and convolvulus (bindweed), not Dawn Man.
In loving memory of
CHARLES DAWSON FSA
WHO DIED 10TH AUGUST 1916
AGED 52 YEARS
AND HELENE HIS WIFE
WHO DIED 25TH MAY 1917
AGED 53 YEARS
Dearly loved
Not much information here. The 'FSA' means 'Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries of London'. Dawson was made a member in 1895. No mention of his achievements, fake or genuine, nor his career as a solicitor. He died young. His widow followed him very quickly - only nine months later. I wonder what of? A broken heart?
Well, the shape and style of the grave was conventional. Could the carved cross tell me anything?
These are crops from the pictures that show the whole grave, and the detail is slightly fuzzy. But nothing obvious jumps at you. Although I do think I see some strange carvings near the base of the cross. That circular feature, with (apparently) an eye at the centre, that has (if you strain your imagination) a dinosaur's head growing from it? And down at the bottom - is that a reptilian face peeping at us?
I think I'll have to return and get better shots! There seems to be some symbolism in the carving.
Meanwhile, fossicking around on the Internet, I've come across this, published in August 2014 by the Lewes History Group, which tells us something more about Charles Dawson:
- Charles Dawson and Castle Lodge
The Uckfield solicitor Charles Dawson (1864-1916), founder of the Dawson, Hart firm, is best known as the man responsible for the Piltdown Man fraud. He was an active archaeologist, who from his early days had the knack of making original and remarkable discoveries. In 1892 he joined the Sussex Archaeological Society (SAS) and in 1901 he was a founder member of the Sussex Record Society. He wrote extensively on many different aspects of Sussex history and archaeology, especially its ironwork, pottery and glass.
However, his involvement with the SAS ended acrimoniously. Since 1885 the SAS and their collections had been happily ensconced in Castle Lodge, sited immediately below the keep in the precincts of Lewes Castle and leased from the Marquess of Abergavenny. They had an understanding that if Castle Lodge ever came up for sale, they would have the first refusal. The SAS council were thus astonished when, at midsummer 1904, their secretary received a letter from Charles Dawson informing them that he had purchased Castle Lodge, and giving them notice to quit. The SAS was eventually able to arrange to relocate to Barbican House, their present home, and in 1907 Charles Dawson and his new wife moved in to Castle Lodge. It was Dawson who added the fake battlements, ornate windows and statuary to the house. He also discovered an old wine cellar which he converted into a mock medieval dungeon, complete with manacles and a stone bed. He lived there for the rest of his life.
We have only the SAS’s version of the events surrounding the sale of the house, but Louis Salzmann believed that it was not above board. He alleged that Dawson, using his positions as a solicitor and as an officer of the SAS, and (without authorisation) SAS headed notepaper, misled the Marquess into believing that he was making the purchase on behalf of the SAS. Dawson remained an SAS member until his death but his later activities were under the aegis of other Sussex organisations. Salzmann archly commented: “His name was later given to the Pilt Down Man, Euanthropus dawsonii, the lowest form of human being, with the discovery of whose remains he was associated”.
