Tiny Bones, Microscopic Insights: A New Look at Neanderthal Babies

How similar were Neanderthals to us, especially at the very beginning of life? Surprisingly, we’ve known very little about how Neanderthal babies grew before birth. That’s mainly because their remains are so rare in the archaeological record.

Now, new research is beginning to fill in that gap.

This has taken a closer look literally at the microscopic level of the bones and teeth of three Neanderthal babies. These infants were discovered in the 1960s and 70s at a famous archaeological site called Sesselfelsgrotte in southeastern Germany. The remains date back between 90,000 and 50,000 years.

Essing von der Drohne aus gesehen - in der Bildmitte: Die Felswand mit der Sesselfelsgrotte. Gut sichtbar: Das Stahlgerüst über dem Schutzbau.

The site of Sesselfelsgrotte, where the cave opening can be seen just behind the large trees above the line of house roofs.

A rare glimpse into Neanderthal infancy

Sesselfelsgrotte is one of the richest Neanderthal sites in western Europe, and what makes it especially remarkable is that it includes the remains of three babies. Finds like this are incredibly rare, making them valuable for understanding early development.

To study the babies without damaging the fragile bones, researchers used advanced micro-CT scanning, a kind of high-resolution 3D imaging. This allowed them to examine both bone structure and teeth in extraordinary detail, and to compare what they saw with how modern human babies develop.

Just like us

What did they find? In many ways, Neanderthal babies developed in broadly similar ways to modern human babies. The microscopic structure of their bones showed clear signs of rapid growth in the later stages of pregnancy.

This adds to growing evidence that Neanderthals and modern humans were closely related, which highlights our shared evolutionary history in a very tangible way.

A surprising clue about ancient health

Inside the teeth, the researchers noticed abnormalities in the dentine—the layer beneath the enamel. These irregularities may point to some kind of metabolic stress during development.

This could represent the earliest evidence of metabolic disease ever found in Neanderthals, dating back around 75,000 years.

Check out this upcoming Society for the Study of Childhood in the Past conference

I am looking forward to the range of research to be presented at the 18th Annual Conference for the Society for the Study of Childhood in the Past (SSCIP) on the 10th-12th of June at the University of Oulu, Finland.

This year’s conference theme is on the intersection of childhood, emotions, attachments, and social relationships to uncover how children in past societies experienced and influenced their worlds.

Reflections on the Ethics of Working with Infants from Museum Contexts

I have been reflecting on the work that I have been doing, particularly within museum contexts. There has been a recent increase in interest in the study of the ethics of bioarchaeological practice; however, there has been considerably less in the context of anatomical collections. This is despite the fact that the individuals collected are often from marginalised sectors of the community, e.g., institutionalised individuals.

Within the anatomical museum context, there can be a lack of clear provenance information and loss of relationship between human remains held in collections and acquisition records. However, I feel that to move forward in ethical ways, we need to know who these people were and where they came from. 

I have, with students and colleagues from Takarangi research, been focused on an analysis of the acquisition records and the skeletal and preserved human remains from the W. D. Trotter Anatomy Museum founded in 1876, which represents the largest anatomical museum in the southern hemisphere. Despite the historical nature of the collection, there is a dearth of research on the people themselves and very little research on the historical archives of acquisition practices.

The Anatomy Museum as it was in 1927
Otago Bulletin

Some of our recent work has looked at the babies represented in the skeletal collections, of which there is a loss of attribution of the acquisition records to the human remains themselves. Through our analysis of the skeletal remains of the infants, we found that there was a number of preterm babies and those with developmental defects. The age-at-death and the pathology reflect the archival records of age and cause of death. The loss of attribution between the records of acquisition and the babies’ remains, along with the way in which a lot of these remains are curated by bone type rather than as individuals, also points to the anatomisation of the body, effectively stripping the individual identity of these babies. We found that of the babies for whom we had names and could find birth and/or death records, many were born to mothers who were unwed and/or from low socio-economic backgrounds. These babies were often born (and died) in mother-baby homes for the unwed (e.g., Batchelor’s Hospital).

The front view of the Forth Street Maternity Hospital (later called Batchelor’s Hospital) in Dunedin. Otago Witness, 18.6.1913

At times, I have questioned whether this research risks repeating the very harm it seeks to address. Some have suggested that analysing these remains may re-objectify the infants, turning them once again into subjects of study. There has also been some hesitation within the university about pursuing this work.

However, I remain of the opinion that silence is not more ethical than engagement. To be transparent about what our collections contain, we must be willing to look closely—however uncomfortable that may be. For me, this work is about re-establishing connection: about naming, contextualising, and acknowledging. It is an attempt, however small, to restore fragments of identity and to confront the histories that allowed these infants to become anonymous specimens in the first place.

This research does not resolve the ethical tensions inherent in working with human remains. But it is, I hope, a step toward greater honesty, accountability, and care.

SSCIP Annual Conference – University of Otago, New Zealand 2021 – Registration and conference schedule

A reminder that the 13th Annual SSCIP Conference is being held via Zoom from the 25th to 28th of October (British Summer Time). It is hosted and organised by Associate Professor Siân Halcrow of the University of Otago, New Zealand, and has been scheduled into eight short sessions over four days to accommodate the different time zones of participants.

Keynote addresses will be made by Professor Maureen Carroll of the University of York, Associate Professor Alison Behie of Australian National University, Professor Holly Dunsworth of the University of Rhode Island, and Professor Sarah Knott of Indiana University Bloomington.

If you are interested in attending any of the eight sessions you can register for free using the following link: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/society-for-the-study-of-childhood-in-the-past-conference-tickets-179748280947. After you register you will be sent a confirmation email. Zoom details for the event can be found by clicking the “View the event” button in this email.

Information regarding the conference schedule and abstracts for all the talks can be found at the following link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1TqiAhXRo9NEiHPqTD1_OxOgh-wxf4dt0_jcIHQaWG2Y/edit?usp=sharing

Session times:

Day One / 25th October 2021 – Session One: 8am – 10am BST

Day One / 25th October 2021 – Session Two: 9pm – 10pm BST

Day Two / 26th October 2021 – Session One: 8am – 10am BST

Day Two / 26th October 2021 – Session Two: 9pm – 10pm BST

Day Three / 27th October 2021 – Session One:  8am – 10am BST

Day Three / 27th October 2021 – Session Two: 9pm – 11pm BST

Day Four / 28th October 2021, Session One: 8am – 10am BST

Day Four / 28th October 2021 – Session Two: 9pm – 11pm BST

Childhood and the development of urbanisation

The collection of papers in this special issue of Childhood in the Past edited by Francesca Fulminante showcase research on infancy and childhood with sophisticated theoretical and methodological approaches to this topic. This issue represents a significant contribution to understanding the role of children and childhood during the transition to urbanization in Europe through the lens of multiple approaches, including bioarchaeological, archaeological, cognitive developmental (palaeoanthropological), sociological and historical research on infants and children, using a variety of new analytical techniques. This issue moves chronologically from the consideration of cognitive development during prehistory to the nineteenth-century urban environment. Check it out!

Moulded terracotta, beige clay with inclusions, H 9,3 cm, W 6 cm, Veii, sanctuary of Campetti 1, Rome, Museo Nazionale etrusco di Villa Giulia, inv. n. C/168. 3rd–2nd c. BCE. See Pedrucci 2021, 236, Veii 60. Courtesy of the Museum. © Mauro Benedetti.

Uncovering childhood in museums

Personal Reflections By Amanda Hoogestraat, Twitter @AmehAnthro

On my recent tour of museums in the UK, I saw small reminders of children in the exhibits featuring past societies. Children were obviously a part of every community, but are underrepresented in museum collections. There is a museum devoted to childhood in both London and Edinburgh, but perhaps other museums should consider adding more children’s items to their collections for a more balanced representation of life in the communities it displays.

For many of the museums that had childhood material culture, shoes or cradles were the only items on view.

Four out of the 55 museums that I visited had children’s skeletal remains on display; usually infants and mostly with an adult skeletons nearby. Rarely did I see older children.

However, it was the toys that interested me the most; to see how the cherished play items were very similar to those of today.

I also observed how visiting children interacted with the exhibits, especially at museums not designed specifically for them. Some of these museums had created play areas pertaining to a display nearby.

Surprisingly, the British Motor Museum was a place that had children’s programs and school tours.

I think everyone enjoys seeing items from a childhood different from our own lives or from our own childhoods. It reminds us that across time and location, children were an integral part of the society.

Egyptian ‘hawk’ mummy is a human foetus with a fatal birth defect

Recently researchers have made an unexpected discovery of a mummified foetus while CT scanning a 2300-year-old mummy known as Ta-Kush currently held at the Maidstone Museum in Kent. This coffin was labelled, “A mummified hawk with linen and cartonnage, Ptolemaic period (323 BC – 30 BC).”

Micro-CT scan shows the mummified stillborn human baby. Image: Maidstone Museum UK/Nikon Metrology UK

The high resolution CT scan results have recently been presented at the Extraordinary World Congress on Mummy Studies in the Canary Islands last month. The authors argue that the foetus was about 23-28 weeks gestation and had anencephaly as shown by underdeveloped skull bones.

To me, this begs the question as to whether the several other Egyptian ‘hawk’ mummies curated around the world are actually tiny babies. Further investigation of this baby and others will shed light on the social responses of grief and loss of those born too young to survive.

Watch here on YouTube Mummy ‘bird’ mystery

The coffin. Image: Western University

 

 

 

 

 

‘Freaks’ as museum exhibits: the case of the Boy of Bengal

Throughout history we have been obsessed with the ‘other’, the ‘weird’ and the wonderful. This is epitomised in the history of ‘freak shows’, which date back to the reign of Queen Elizabeth I in the 16th century. From this time people with unusual physical characteristics often became objects of public curiosity and were shown throughout Europe and beyond. Some of the people shown had growth syndromes (e.g. dwarfism and gigantism), growth defects (e.g. ectrodactyly, or ‘split hand / ‘cleft handand microcephaly), albinism, and the very rare syndrome of hypertrichosis, sometimes called “werewolf syndrome”, which results in excessive hair on the face and body.

One ‘object of curiosity’ is the “Boy of Bengal” whose heads remain on display at the Hunterian Museum of the Royal College of Surgeons of London. He was born in rural Bengal in the late 18th century. His parents exhibited him publically around India, and in private gatherings. Unfortunately the boy died at the age of four from a cobra bite.

SS2876281

twin

During the 18th and 19th centuries there was an increase in medical interest in these conditions, which resulted in these people being studied, and sometimes displayed in medical forums. These people often continued to be objectified after their death through the preservation of their bodies, or parts of their bodies, in museums and clinical settings.

The boy’s grave was robbed and body dissected by as salt agent from the East India Company, and his skull was given to the the British surgeon Everard Home who had expressed interest in his condition.

This condition is now known as Craniopagus parasiticus, which is a form of parasitic twins. Parasitic twins form when a fertilised egg does not split properly, and one embryo maintains dominant development at the expense of its twin. This process is the same as the development of conjoined twins but there is an underdevelopment of one of the twins.

It could be argued that today there is still a type of grotesque fascination of ‘oddities’, evidenced with the interest that people have with these types of historic museum items such as the Boy of Bengal. We also see a continuation of the intense interest in people with unusual physical conditions today, prime examples include conjoined twins making world news and being the subjects in reality TV shows.

The notorious ‘baby murderer’ from New Zealand

One of the most high profile cases of infanticide was committed by Minnie Dean in the late 19th century, also gaining infamy as the only woman in New Zealand to receive the death penalty for her crimes. During my childhood I heard many different stories of her hideous acts, made even more pertinent given that I grew up in the same small Southland town that these crimes were committed 100 years earlier. The stories revolved around how she murdered infants by piercing their fontanelles (‘soft-spots’ on the top of their heads) with hairpins, concealed them in hat boxes, and disposed of them in rivers. Kids in the playground at our local school used to taunt others by saying, “watch out or Minnie Dean will get you!”

Minnie Dean (1844-1895) was a ‘baby-farmer’ who cared for infants and children in an informal adoption relationship in exchange for money. This type of work was attractive to lower income women in New Zealand at the time, and in other parts of the British Empire. Those she took into care were largely illegitimate children.

Minnie and her husband Charles had financial issues, with records of filing for bankruptcy. After a fire destroyed their home they lived in a very small twenty-two foot by twelve foot house. At any one time there could be up to nine children under the age of three in her care.

In 1889 a six-month-old infant died in her care, and two years later a six-week-old baby died. The inquest from the six-week-old-baby concluded that the death was from natural causes and the other children at her house at the time were well cared for but that their living conditions were inadequate. In an era of high infant mortality (about 100 per 1000 births in NZ), it isn’t surprising that that some of the children would die from illness.

Minnie started to gain even more police interest when it was found that she had been looking for more children to care, as well as attempting, unsuccessfully, to take out life insurance policies on some of the babies.

In 1892 the police took into their care a three-week-old who Dean had adopted from a single mother for £25. The baby was reported to be in a malnourished state.

Then in 1895 Minnie was seen boarding a train carrying a young baby and a hatbox. However, on the return trip she was reported to only have the hatbox. She was subsequently arrested and police searched her property and found the bodies of two babies, later identified as Eva Hornsby and Dorothy Carter, and the skeleton of an older boy (whom Dean later claimed had drowned). An inquest found that Dorothy Carter had died from an overdose of opiate laudanum, commonly used to calm babies at the time.

Before her death by hanging in August 1895, Dean wrote her own account of her life. In total, apart from her adopted children, she claimed to have cared for twenty-six children. Of these, five were found in good health after her arrest (figure below, and Esther Wallis, one of her adopted children), six had died in her care, and one had been given back to her parents. This leaves 14 children unaccounted for.

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There was, understandably, intense public interest around Minnie Dean’s case. Around the time of her convictions macabre dolls in miniature hat boxes were said to have been sold as souvenirs outside the Invercargill courtroom where Dean was tried.

Screen Shot 2018-04-19 at 4.30.47 PM‘Minnie Dean dolls’, URL: https://nzhistory.govt.nz/media/photo/minnie-dean-dolls, (Ministry for Culture and Heritage), updated 2-Oct-2014

Later, Minnie Dean’s own defence lawyer Alfred Hanlon wrote:

Sober, home-loving folk from end to end of the country shuddered … when the grim and ghastly story of Minnie Dean’s infamy was narrated by the prosecution. Imagine a being with the name and appearance of a woman boldly using a public railway train for the destruction of her helpless victims, sitting serene and unperturbed in a carriage with one tiny corpse in a tin box at her feet and another enshrouded in a shawl and secured by travelling straps in the luggage rack at her head.

 

After her conviction the New Zealand government made the process of foster parenting more regulated to stop tragedies like this happening again.

In 1994 Historian Lynley Hood published a book, Minnie Dean: Her Life and Crimes, which raises some questions surrounding the fairness of her trial and the facts in the case. Was she a victim of hypocrisy of Victorian society doing the dirty work of caring for unwanted and illegitimate children? One will never truly know, but her name remains part of New Zealand history and grisly folklore today.

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