Francis Pryor

Francis Pryor is one of the most familiar faces on Time Team outside the core of Team regulars. His specialities are the Bronze and Iron Ages, to which he brings a unique perspective as a working farmer.

How did you first get interested in archaeology?
I was born in London, but spent my childhood in the chalk hills of the Hertfordshire/Cambridgeshire borders. I was part of a large rural family and spent most of my time visiting the houses and farms of friends and relations. This gave me a deep interest in the landscape and how it came to be formed. I used to visit the small abandoned chalk pits that were present on most farms in those days, where I would hunt for fossils. At school this interest in fossils led me into A-level geology. I also liked wildlife and nature, which led me towards botany and zoology at A-level.

Then I began to realise that there was more to life than scrambling around in chalk pits. It was about that time – the late 1950s, and I must have been around 15 – that a wonderfully wise teacher introduced me to Howard Carter's books on Tutankhamun's tomb in Egypt. That hooked me, and from then on I only wanted to do one thing with my life.

Tell us a bit about your archaeological career
I won't repeat the entire story of my archaeological career, because I’ve published it in my book, Seahenge: a quest for life and death in Bronze Age Britain (HarperCollins). But in essence I have spent over 30 years digging and surveying Roman and prehistoric sites in the Fens, mostly around Peterborough.

I have had the extraordinary good fortune to unearth what is probably the oldest (2500 BC) field system in Britain, at Fengate; not to mention sundry Bronze and Iron-Age settlements; a partially waterlogged Neolithic causewayed enclosure (3800 BC) at Etton; and last, but by no means least, the strange, later Bronze-Age timber causeway at Flag Fen (1300-900 BC). I believe passionately that archaeology, which may only be based on sites in a few parishes, does not have to be parochial in scope or vision. Get to understand a small area thoroughly and the 'big picture' will look after itself.

I ceased being a full-time field archaeologist about five years ago, largely because I felt things were beginning to repeat themselves. I also believe strongly that archaeology can sometimes become somewhat dominated by 'grand old men', whose presence can sometimes stifle creative thought. Younger people feel disinclined to voice their views in case the 'GOM' slap them down.

What have you been doing since your 'retirement' from full-time field archaeology?
I wrote that semi-autobiographical book, Seahenge, in 1999-2000, and then wrote two others for the same publishers: a popular prehistory of Britain, Britain BC (published 2003), and a reassessment of the so-called Dark Ages, Britain AD (2004). This sort-of trilogy has been huge fun to write and I've also greatly enjoyed scripting and presenting the two series for Channel 4 that accompanied the BC and AD books.

What do you enjoy most about this sort of work?
I've always been keen to communicate archaeology to the public. After all, a great deal of archaeology is done with public money, so people have a perfect right to know how their hard-earned cash is being spent. I also believe that having the huge good fortune to do the most fascinating job it is possible to do, I should share my pleasure with others. If anything, that makes it even more fun and satisfying – for me.

I've always had an on-site museum or special open days on my digs, and when we discovered Flag Fen in 1982, I realised it would be a golden opportunity to open an archaeological park. So that is what we have done. We get no local authority support and survive entirely on our visitor income.

[To find out more about the Flag Fen centre, contact Toby Fox at office@flagfen.freeserve.com or visit its website at www.flagfen.com.]

You bring a unique perspective to archaeology because you're also a working farmer. What does this involve?
When I'm not writing, digging or filming I run a small sheep farm of about 150 animals, not counting lambs. In fact, I'm doing this interview during the lambing season. This morning I delivered twins, and in a few minutes I must go out and check the lambing shed to see what new surprises my ladies have to offer.

And you still manage to find time for other high-level archaeological work?
When not being a farmer or doing other things, I devote as much time as I can to being president of the Council for British Archaeology. The CBA is a wonderful organisation for anyone with even the slightest interest in archaeology. The CBA runs the Young Archaeologists' Club and our deputy director, Mike Heyworth, maintains the finest website www.britarch.ac.uk in archaeology. If you haven't done so already, you must visit us.

How did you first get involved with Time Team?
I've been aware of Time Team right from the very beginning. In 1991, I presented a six-part series for BBC Children's Television entitled Now Then. Being involved with the world of archaeological television meant that I attended the press conference for the launch of Time Team. We were shown a short pilot film. I remember thinking that it wasn't much good and that the idea was too complex to work properly. And besides, how on earth would they find the sites? Now I feel rather like the chap who turned down the Beatles.

Anyhow, I had two large sites (Etton and Flag Fen) to write up, so I spent Time Team's initial four or five seasons with my nose stuck deeply in books. I had no choice: I had to become something of a hermit, or else I'd never finish the mammoth task that then confronted me.

Then, sometime around 1996, I emerged from my study and bumped into Mick Aston (I can't remember where), who asked if I'd like to do a Time Team. It was, I think, at Kemerton in Gloucestershire and I distinguished myself by driving a mini-digger at dawn, like a Wild West bucking bronco. It was great fun and I've never done a Time Team since that hasn’t been fun. But there have also been serious moments.

What's your favourite Time Team?
My favourite Time Team was also fun to do, but in a rather strange way. It was in Wales, at a place called Llygadwy, and it was quite apparent that something very peculiar was going on. All the archaeologists involved – especially Mick, Carenza and Phil – resented the fact that someone believed it was a simple matter to pull the wool over our eyes. It suggested that our professional skills were only skin-deep. That made all of us as mad as hell! It also made for a brilliant programme with a cutting-edge feel to it.

Apart from the regular Time Team programmes, I also took part in the first 'special' on Seahenge. That was a very traumatic site, with all sorts of unpleasantness attached. It was also Grahame Johnson's first film as a director for Time Team and although it brings back some painful memories, the final film was a superb piece of work.

Is there a conflict between archaeology and the demands of television?
Generally speaking the answer is a firm 'No'. But there is a downside. I don't want to name names, but programmes that stress the 'treasure' or 'money' side of archaeological discoveries are completely missing the point.

Yes, sometimes archaeologists make finds that are valuable, but most of us forget about them. What we tend to remember are those things that throw direct light on ancient people – such as a thumb-print I once spotted on a Bronze-Age clay loom-weight. You could see that the skin was cracked through manual labour, and there was even a hint that the person bit their nails. That sort of insight is worth far more to me than any amount of money.

I have to admit that I don't approve of metal-detecting because it wrenches archaeological finds from out of their contexts. It also encourages the antiquities trade, which I regard as plain wrong. For me, the past belongs to everyone, and not just to a few collectors with more money than conscience.

I would like to see more archaeological books and television programmes that have a clear argument and set out to tell a story. I'm a sucker for a good tale, well told. All the clever gimmicks in the world can never disguise the fact that a programme is going nowhere. Good archaeological television programmes are the best possible entertainment. The fact that they also teach one something is a bonus. Above all else, they must tell a story with a beginning, a middle and an end. Like this.

Francis Pryor answers some of our questions

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