A Place for the Heathlands

The following narration deliberately weaves together factual, interpretive, and imaginative elements of the story of human foragers traversing the northernmost extension of Europe’s Atlantic heathlands – what today is Danish Jutland – in the so-called Allerød period (c. 13,300–12,800 BP) at the very end of the last ice age. It purposefully decentres human action and experience with complementary accounts of nonhuman contributions, agencies, presences, and relationalities within the European far north (Fig. 1). In so doing, it consciously and pre-emptively adopts speculative methodologies developed in the humanities and social sciences to bring to life and imagine – as an instrument of critical thought – how humans have always been entangled with and depended upon nonhuman behaviour and sentience (Fig. 2).^{1 ( 1 )}
See e.g., Michael 2016; Backer 2020; Toliver 2020; Lindsey 2022; and Meskus and Tikka 2022.

The palaeohistory presented below therefore has two overarching goals: (1) to reframe and re-envision some of the earliest human forager dispersals into northernmost late glacial Europe within their multispecies ecologies, contributing to the maturing project of multispecies archaeology; and (2) to counter persisting terrestrial biases in the archaeology of the earliest settlement in southern Scandinavia, proposing that developing and incipient ocean–land interfaces played a key conducive role in bringing humans into higher-latitude European landscapes already thousands of years before the Holocene. The developing heathlands of Atlantic Europe are a part of this complex and more-than-human story (Fig. 3).

Multispecies archaeology is a novel field of research which attempts to investigate and map the interdigitation of human and nonhuman life and its generative material and nonmaterial consequences in early human history. It attempts to critique and deconstruct anthropocentric interpretations and narratives of the past, and to demonstrate the active yet variegated involvement of a broad swathe of nonhumans – especially other animals, but also communities of plants – in the formation of the archaeological record and the phenomena observed in it. Multispecies archaeologists seek in particular to overcome appropriations of the past that foreground notions of exploitation and resource extraction (animals as resources) that narrow our view of human–animal relations as mere predator–prey dynamics or symbolic abstractions.

Designed as an imaginative exercise in multispecies archaeology, the speculative palaeohistory presented here focalizes a range of complex interrelationships between humans and their nonhuman co-dwellers during the late glacial human expansions to northern Jutland. The aim is to probe the kinds of diverse interspecies relationships that may underpin and frame the archaeological evidence that we have recovered from this spatiotemporal context, and thereby to urge archaeologists and non-experts alike to begin to give more serious consideration to the immense and largely undescribed diversity of past multispecies engagement.

The resulting speculative palaeohistory is based on new archaeological research on the nature and broader context of late glacial human occupations in northwest Jutland (Fig. 4), as recently described by Hussain et al. (2024). Following the observations made in that paper, I argue that the importance of oceanic life for early northbound expansions has hitherto been fundamentally overlooked and that stranded whales likely subsidized human foragers in the north (Fig. 5, 6), perhaps even drawing them there initially. I propose that larger whales, especially bowheads, largely defined the affective and cultural landscapes encountered and devised by early humans at the edge of the late glacial world. The broader multispecies context of these early excursions also includes polar bears, who appear on the scene both as competitors and anchors in learning the unknown landscapes of the north (see esp. Fig. 6a, b).

About 13,000 years ago – A small group of late glacial hunter-gatherers, a few adults and a handful of children, are on their way to cross the northern portion of the European Lowlands, the western extension of the vast North European Plain that spans from what is today the Netherlands in the west up to the eastern extremities of Poland on the other side of the continent. This landscape is mostly flat – shaped by the glacial advances of the preceding Weichselian ice age – yet nonetheless hosts a unique mosaic of habitats and land forms, from park-tundra-like environments to light woodlands and boreal forests. The northern plains are deeply incised by glacial tunnel valleys, including the massive late glacial Odra–Elbe system. These constitute prominent axes of orientation, funnelling migratory animals such as reindeer and horse in from the southeast to the European north.^{2 ( 2 )}
Grimm 2019. These waterways are hotspots of biodiversity: they are flanked by dynamic flood plains and pockets of wetland, and therefore harbour valuable riverine plant resources, wood, and freshwater fish, besides attracting animals such as waterbirds, beavers, and the majestic elk.^{3 ( 3 )}
Weber et al.,2011. Ahead of the northward-moving human foragers lies today’s southern Scandinavia, with its newly formed Skagerrak–Kattegat seaboard bordering the monumental land mass of Doggerland exposed by the retreating ice in the west.^{4 ( 4 )}
Mills 2022. Doggerland forms the heartland for northern European foragers at this time because of its diversity of productive ecosystems. There are gigantic river interfluves here along with rich estuaries and the largest wetlands of the region; there are also focal areas of driftwood accumulation, an important resource for mobile foragers relying on fuel and (s)hafting materials. Behind the lightly travelling cohort of late glacial humans expands an ash- and smoke-darkened sky, signalling a catastrophic event of historic proportions – a volcanic eruption in the central uplands of what is today the German Rhineland some 200–300 kilometres to the south.^{5 ( 5 )}
Reinig et al. 2021. The hunter-gatherers come from this direction and, along with other animal life, seek refuge in the north even though they have not witnessed the events themselves and can only imagine what may have happened. The group has heard about prosperous foraging grounds, strange creatures, and diverse kin communities occupying the northern segments of the known late glacial world and have decided to seek out these unknown but enticing landscapes in the face of bad omens to the south.

More or less at the same time – A group of large baleen whales (bowheads or Balaenae mysticetus in the taxonomic rendering of the twenty-first century) have begun their journey southward through the icy waters of the eastern North Atlantic ocean. Their slow but steady campaign gives voice to a larger dynamic of life in high-latitude terminal Pleistocene Europe. As the sea ice expands further south, the whales, some of them more than a century old and otherwise largely solitary beings, aggregate in small groups to begin their seasonal late summer migration in order to reach the southern North Atlantic in autumn or winter.^{6 ( 6 )}
George and Thewissen 2020. Some of the female bowheads are accompanied by young calves, born in the northern portion of the North Atlantic following these gigantic oceanic creatures’ migration the preceding spring. A bowhead matriarch in the group – a female individual of almost two hundred years of age – guides the whales through the unsteady and treacherous coastal waters along the coast of Western Norway into the mouth of the incipient Skagerrak Sea,^{7 ( 7 )}
Wiig and Bachmann 2019. the newly formed eastern extension of the southern North Atlantic. The matriarch has embarked on this journey many times before and holds intimate knowledge of the route, as well as the whales’ destination in Southern Scandinavia where the Skagerrak and Kattegat meet and where the melting ice has created affluent, plankton-rich feeding grounds for these giants of the late glacial circumpolar world.^{8 ( 8 )}
Aaris-Sørensen 2010. On their way to the south, the group of baleen whales is joined by varying numbers of gregarious and highly social but considerably smaller beluga whales travelling in pods, several of which come together in herds of often more than three hundred individuals when they co-migrate with the bowheads, forming a symbiotic relationship with them. The matriarch knows this is a risky journey, and that some of her companions, perhaps even herself, may not return north from this migration.

Upon arrival in Late Allerød Southern Scandinavia – The group of northward-moving hunter-gatherers has joined forces with another company of foragers – proficient reindeer hunters, who have lived for generations on the North European Plain. The other group is also heading northwards, but has arrived from the west at the Scandinavian gate that opens up where the Elbe and the Werra meet. The north European landscape now unfurls impressively in front of the late glacial foragers, with Doggerland to the west and today’s northern Germany and southern Jutland to the east. It is late summer, and the northern reindeer hunters have come to live here among the many congregated deer (Rangifer tarandus) that track the extensive tunnel valleys as they migrate westwards across the sprawling northern plains from their eastern European summer feeding grounds.^{9 ( 9 )}
Price et al. 2017; Rivals et al. 2020. The landscape is indeed dotted with reindeer, who have arrived in their thousands to spend the winter somewhere between what is today northern Germany, Denmark, and the British Isles. Reassured by this abundance of life and by several dimly visible plumes of smoke on the horizon, the combined company continues their advance and crosses the late glacial river Elbe, roughly where the city of Hamburg is situated today. The goal is to catch up with the other forager groups who have made camp adjacent to the river valley. They have all come to this area to share the summer and autumn landscapes with the co-present reindeer societies. The reindeer bring life to the north, rejuvenating the land through extensive grazing and nutrient cycling – the process of transferring energy and matter between living and non-living components of the environment.^{10 ( 10 )}
Sitters et al. 2019. Reindeer urine and faeces fertilize the ground, and reindeer rumination influences soil mineralization, enhancing primary production overall.^{11 ( 11 )}
Sitters et al. 2017. Some of these animals will also “give themselves” to late glacial hunters and so help to sustain human societies with their meat, flesh, tendons, and organic body parts.^{12 ( 12 )}
Nadasdy 2007. Humans and nonhumans thus participate in an intricate system of multispecies exchange relations, a system which incurs human care and obligation. The presence of hunter-gatherers in these reindeer-crowded landscapes alters predator–prey dynamics; through what modern-day ecologists now call “ecologies of fear,” wolves and other carnivores are kept at a distance.^{13 ( 13 )}
Zanette and Clinchy 2019. The promoted reindeer in turn opt to close in on the forager encampments, some of them appear to be choosing to offer their bodies in exchange. Amid this mingling of human and reindeer worlds, the southern adventurers nevertheless hear repeated whispers that wolf-like creatures sometimes follow human groups, even if they cannot spot any this year. Wolf packs are also rumoured to have occasionally collaborated with human foragers on past hunting trips, even though the elders who tell these stories cannot recall any details.^{14 ( 14 )}
Barsh and Marlor 2003.

In late autumn – Most of the human groups begin to disperse again, and the reindeer, too, gradually vacate the region. A few of the animals have moved further afield into southern Scandinavia proper, finally traversing the Northern Lowlands to make their way into the late glacial circum-Arctic. The reindeer thereby follow the steppe corridor that connects the North European Plain with the western part of present-day Jutland. This corridor is made up of open heathland that separates western Jutland from the birch woodlands and profoundly rich fjord landscapes of eastern Jutland and Zealand and also from the lighter birch-and-pine belt that covers parts of the North European Plain during the Allerød period.^{15 ( 15 )}
Mills 2022; Mortensen, Henriksen and Bennike 2014; Mortensen, Henriksen, Christensen, Petersen and Olsen 2014. These landscapes are far from marginal: they harbour diverse woodland-riverine ecosystems inhabited by various deer species, horse, beaver, elk, giant deer, and bear, as well as a broad range of smaller and larger birds. Even though the southern refugees have by now listened to tales of the somewhat mysterious, woodland-adapted human foragers living in the eastern parts of southern Scandinavia with its unique, prosperous, and almost inexhaustible “giving” environments,^{16 ( 16 )}
Mortensen, Henriksen, Christensen, Petersen and Olsen 2014. they have decided to follow a small group of their veteran kin that has set out to pursue the reindeer further north. These people embark on this journey every year, the heathland promoting quick travel across southern Scandinavia with freshly formed animal trails available, while the few northward-migrating reindeer are enough to ensure human sustenance before reaching the European far north. The southerners were told that the journey would not lack for dangers and challenges, but the reward is a vibrant world unlike anything else they have witnessed, filled with strange ocean-bound creatures and diverse human kin drawn to these lands every year. This world is said to be fraught with danger, yet it is also ripe with sentience and opportunity. The humans are called upon to partake in its maintenance and reproduction.

Within the Heath – Heathlands are a relatively recent phenomenon of what today is known as Atlantic Europe,^{17 ( 17 )}
Loidi et al. 2010. but they initially began to form as the climate ameliorated within the last glacial interstadial, providing a novel habitat for humans and animals alike.^{18 ( 18 )}
Mortensen, Henriksen and Bennike 2014; Krüger et al. 2020. The open parkland character of the heath pulls the reindeer north with its light, short-growing vegetation, including various shrubs. The eponymous evergreen heather ( Calluna vulgaris) provides unique winter-grazing opportunities, and this, compared to the otherwise sparsely vegetated landscapes of Western Jutland with their reduced human and carnivore presence, makes it good reindeer country.^{19 ( 19 )}
Hellerøe et al. 2023. As the human groups move into the extensive heathland corridor stretching between Doggerland and eastern Denmark, they also enter a highly dynamic ecosystem characterized by a unique assemblage of plants and animals. Not only reindeer make use of the heath: the late glacial heathlands are equally home to thousands of grouse (medium-sized birds of notable alimentary value), for whom heather is a staple food and who tend to be resident in heather-rich landscapes.^{20 ( 20 )}
Hellerøe et al. 2023. Heather is extremely cold hardy and can survive even severe exposure to below-zero temperatures and sustained freezing conditions; this is key to its long-term survival within the permafrost-affected landscapes of the European high north. The north-charting reindeer thus benefit from the combination of shrub-leaf affordances and the varied species of lichen available in the heather moorlands of the area. Heather and other grassy plants are also consumed by red deer,^{21 ( 21 )}
Moss and Parkinson 1972. and to some extent horses,^{22 ( 22 )}
Krüger, Mortensen and Dörfler 2020. but these animals also rely on access to the eastern woodlands. The two human forager groups pursue the rapidly dispersing reindeer until they eventually lose track of the animals shortly before reaching the massive Limfjord, in what is today the Aalborg area. The palaeo-Limfjord cuts across northern Jutland east–west, separating the Vendsyssel in the north from the rest of the peninsula. As the humans enter the Vendsyssel, the landscape once again changes in character and becomes an at-first-glance barren, life-defiant, subarctic parkland steppe. Some of the southerners begin to wonder why they have decided to even come here, but their initial unease is rapidly overcome by the strong sense of certainty, dedication, and purpose exhibited by their veteran travel companions, who seem to have long awaited finally returning to this place.

Timely ocean-bound arrivals – As the matriarch among the bowhead whales breaches the surface of the icy water to breathe as the bowheads and their beluga co-travellers reach the appendix of the Norwegian Channel (roughly at the height of what is present-day Stavanger), a massive horizon-engulfing floating coast reveals itself in front of the whales. Yet the sea ice is not as dense or expansive as in previous years when the oceanic travellers entered the Arctic and nutrient-enriched waters of the western Skagerrak. Many of the whales are exhausted from the long and risky journey, but the sight of the northern European coast sparks new hope in them. These comparatively virgin waters are relatively well sheltered and predator-free, which is part of the reason why the bowheads return every year. Another reason is their curiosity, and the unusual visitors who have recently begun to frequent the floating coasts of the European north.

Wintering in the high North – It is almost dark when the combined company of human foragers arrives in the Hollendskær area in the northwest Vendsyssel. The two groups decide to camp on an elevated position near the shallow Hollendskær lake and its wetland extensions.^{23 ( 23 )}
Krüger, Mortensen and Dörfler 2020; López López et al. 2017; Fischer 2012. As the southerners soon learn from their fellow travel companions, this location has been used by the other group for a few years now, as it provides direct access to inland resources as well as the North Atlantic coast – the chief reason why they have come here. The late glacial Vendsyssel is a liminal place, almost entirely surrounded by shallow and deeper marine waters, and both the incipient Skagerrak and Kattegat oceans can be seen on the horizon from raised positions. The character of the landscape is much less terrestrial than the landscapes further south through which the hunter-gatherers have passed; the many seabirds that welcome the company at this edge of the late glacial world only underscore this distinct experience and sense of place. One of the southerners even spots the contours of a powerful polar bear before the creature plunges back into the circumpolar night. The night sky is crystal clear and the stars are brightly visible at the firmament, but the silence is suddenly broken by strange, jazz-like alien songs. Thrown into this unique sonic setting, evoking an other-worldly concert, the newcomers are told that the songs they are experiencing tend to change over time.^{24 ( 24 )}
Tervo et al. 2011; Stafford et al. 2018; Erbs et al. 2021. The humans are not alone.

The gift^{25 ( 25 )}
Hussain et al.,2024; Hussain 2024. – The next morning brings an intense smell of marine life and fresh meat, precipitating from the coast and amplified by strong westerly winds. The sky is crowded with gulls and ravens, who seem to be drawn to the coast nearby and circle above the ground. Bird screeches can be heard across the land; the soundscape signals strongly that something has happened. As the foragers attempt to ascend the elevated terrain to survey the situation on the other side of the ridge where they took camp the night before, the view is remarkable. A dead, probably juvenile bowhead whale floats in the water close to the sea ice. The carcass has already been boarded by a number of sea gulls, and some ravens have begun to hastily feed on it. A few polar bears stand at the edge of the ice, waiting for the dead whale body to drift closer; a single bear has already clamped itself onto the large cadaver to feast on the animal. The bears are not alone; some foxes have also arrived at the carrion site, but they are gradually chased away as more and more polar bears show up at the coastal strip. Whale carcasses are an important supplement for the bears, especially under interglacial conditions when the sea ice is reduced and seals and other pinnipeds are less abundant or even absent from the floating coast.^{26 ( 26 )}
Laidre et al. 2018; Pagano et al. 2020. This is also why the foragers are here, but they are too late. The bowhead body floating in the icy water has already been claimed by the bears. While the southerners stand captivated by the unlikely scene unfolding in front of their eyes, one of their veteran companions points to the northeast, where a steady but faint trail of smoke is slowly taking shape on the horizon. This is the sign the others have waited for. The two groups make haste to head swiftly in the direction indicated by the smoke. As the human foragers arrive at the smoke site, a small number of other hunter-gatherer groups, some of them dressed and equipped in unfamiliar ways, have already gathered next to a large signal fire and in sight of what appears to be a massive cetacean body floating in the shallow coastal water only a few hundred metres away.^{27 ( 27 )}
Gusinde 1937; Evans et al. 2016. The dead bowhead whale is an adult, most likely a matriarch. A few humans stand in the shallow water waiting for the tides to bring the dead body closer to the coast, while others begin to fortify the site and ready themselves to deter bears and other possible scavengers who may dare to approach. All forager groups assembled at the site have come here to receive this gift of nature, to accept the offerings of these majestic creatures from another watery world, some of which give themselves to the inhabitants of the north every year to ensure the perpetuation and renewal of late glacial subarctic life.^{28 ( 28 )}
Demuth 2019; Rodgers 2017.

Leave to return – As the group of bowheads leaves the tranquil waters of the Skagerrak–Kattegat seaboard to return to their breeding grounds in the northern North Atlantic, they have lost some valuable family members whom they will mourn for many months, perhaps even years.^{29 ( 29 )}
Bearzi et al. 2017; Laugrand and Oosten 2013. They will nevertheless come back next year to once again animate and transform the European high north and to support life along its shores. In the end, death is a prerequisite for life and only a new beginning. The bowheads have been part of this cycle as long as they can remember, and their role in the flow of energy that we call ecosystem is clear.

This data-driven narration of a possible prehistory of the much-better documented, later Holocene human–heathland interactions entails a number of deliberate interpretive leaps and stipulations. The goal is not to provide a fully accurate picture of this deep past, but rather to bring into sharper focus the various constitutive entanglements of humans, animals, and landscapes, and thus to the contextualize incipient heathland landscapes of northern Europe – and of southern Scandinavia in particular – with the broader dynamics of terminal Pleistocene multispecies life. I wish to thank Mette Løvschal and Mark Haughton, both for inviting me to contribute to this digital volume and for encouraging a more imaginative approach to pre-Holocene human–heath intersections. William Mills kindly offered some useful comments, and perceptive feedback by an anonymous reviewer, and Thea Jensen and Karen Grønneberg helped to polish the final text and provided the incentive needed for appropriate illustration.