Stonehenge Solved Its Three Observatories, Who built them, How and Why

Self evidently this chapter is speculative but the facts which inspire it are sound.

Why would a party of Egyptians leave their home for a distant land, unknown to them, and beyond the experience of any compatriot? They probably had an authoritative benefactor and needed little persuasion by him, all concerned being motivated by strong curiosity and the thought that worthwhile benefits would result. What could have stoked their curiosity? There are three probable reasons which in combination would have been compelling. The first was tales of traders from the north, about a far off people preoccupied with their weather, and who were skilled in observing changes in the apparent paths of the Moon. Of great interest was their alleged ability to transport and manipulate stones heavier than their own, except for obelisks, but paradoxically never fashioning them nor creating a structure; it was said they didn't have the means.

These stories resonated with the Egyptians because they were concerned about their own climate, which had become drier and drier. Many decades ago the land to the west of them was jungle, as their art and mummified crocodiles testify. (At Komombo on the River Nile, between Edfu and Elephantine, mummified crocodiles have been discovered.) This became savannah, evidenced by the recorded bags of the hunting pharaohs; now it was desert punctuated by oases. Where pyramids, with their cladding, had protected mummified pharaohs from the ingress of rain, now there was no point to this: effort could be saved by creating caves near the River Nile. Their interest also focussed on the asserted observational skills of these people, and it was said the apparent paths of the Sun and Moon behaved quite differently where they lived. They, themselves, were baffled by the constant slow changes of the apparent paths of the Sun and Moon having ceased, and had wondered why: this and the hotter climate could perhaps, be linked.

Given these perceptions it is small wonder they were curious, and furthermore they felt they could offer their prospective hosts stone working and construction skills in exchange for what they could learn. The men chosen as explorers would have been experienced seafarers and multi-skilled in construction work, their numbers determined by the number of ships to be employed. To cover accidents, illness and maintenance, a flotilla of three of the largest vessels was probably seen as the minimum. These would have adequate capacity for provisions likely to tide them over from one spontaneously chosen replenishment point to another during the voyage. Also, together with hunting and cooking gear, they would need to stow medical aids, clothing, spares for their sails, oars, ropes and hulls, and the tools to deal with them. Only when these necessities had been catered for could they address their speculated minimum exploration needs: equipment possibly such as measuring rods, chisels, knives, papyrus and marking fluid. It seems reasonable to suppose they were ingenious in spontaneously meeting many needs from what they could forage en route.

In sailing east, once they were beyond waters known to them, perhaps just west of Crete, they would have kept close to land, possibly the European coast rather than the African, as this was the general direction from which their informants came. The Straits of Gibraltar, beyond which were windier seas, could have been mistily anticipated from the stories passed on to them by the traders. After sailing up the Iberian coast and that of France to beyond St Nazaire, they came upon Carnac in its sheltered bay. From what they first saw they must have concluded they had arrived at their destination, everything apparently matching their expectations. However they soon discovered that the Bretons' activities were not wholly those they had been led to expect, for example they did not use poles in pits for observations. They were soon told the people they sought were further up the coast and across a narrow sea; they were known to their hosts who would be pleased to guide them there and effect introductions. Their willingness was possibly in reciprocation for the visitors' interest in what they were doing and in particular their enthusiasm for demonstrating to them how an elongated stone could be raised and stood on end. This was for creating a foresight for observing the Moon's movements.

A suitable stone may have existed at least 80km (50 miles) away at Pont-Aven in Finistere, or alternatively at a nearer site since submerged by the sea. Either way, if the Bretons transported it to Carnac the Egyptians could erect it when passing through on their return journey. Their confidence stemmed, of course, from raising obelisks. However, upon inspecting it at the quarry, they probably realised it would be more difficult to handle because its unworked surfaces would not form a smooth square section: probably this was more critical for them than its length of up to 21m (70 feet) and a weight of over 300 tonnes. The stone, today broken into three pieces and prostrate, is called Le Grande Menhir Brise. An elongated stone pen, having dimensions in cubits, was built some 30 (100 ft) north of the Menhir; it is supposed as a shelter for sighting the top of it (i).

In addition to this evidence of the Egyptian presence, either on this visit or a subsequent one, it was probably they who carved a stalk of barley with 56 (28x2) ears on the wall of a cave in the vicinity (see previous chapter). The Bretons were to become a valued source of manpower for the construction of the Stone henge, not that either party knew it at the time. Carnac was destined to become a staging post for the Egyptians on their journeys to and from the British Isles.

On leaving with their guides on board, the Egyptians sailed north, passing the Channel Islands and round the Cherbourg peninsular, crossing the English Channel to Southampton Water. Whereas their guides with inferior boats were in the habit of landing in Poole Harbour and walking northwards up a straight way, on this occasion the capabilities of the Egyptian ships prompted them to opt for a landing at the mouth of the River Test, near Totton Fig 4. This significantly reduced the length of the prospective walk to 50km (32m), a reduction of 12km (8m). One crew would have been left on standby with the beached vessels and the party commenced its walk north. After 23km (15m) they would have dropped down to on to the flood plain of the River Avon at Downton and followed firm ground on its margins. The river would have been wider and shallower than today, and because of the absence of weirs, it would have been a fast stream during downpours, and a trickle in a ditch during dry weather.

By skirting the ridge on the west bank, today surmounted by the vestiges of Vespasian's Camp, Fig 4, they would have avoided the eastward loop in the river's course, and after a further 2km (mile) arrive at the immediate approach to their final destination, Durrington Walls. Their prospective hosts probably had some idea of when the party would arrive, having previously agreed to the visit, while the leaders had some minutes warning of their imminent arrival, enabling them to greet the visitors at the foot of their 20m (66 ft) long flint-paved way on the river's edge. As they all ascended the steep escarpment to the settlement, set in a sheltered fold in high ground, they passed people going down to fetch water, and others with baskets of produce from the cultivated floodplain on the other side of the river, After refreshment, a rest and pleasantries, the hosts listened to the Egyptians' needs and responded by outlining how best they could show them around, with explanations of what had been done in making observations of the Moon, past and present. There was an exchange of experiences, which culminated in the Egyptians placating their hosts' curiosity, by taking a sizable party back to Southampton Water to view the ships; they were staggered, as one would expect.