It was just a normal morning in 1879 when a Danish peat worker went out to start the day’s work. His task was to dig up peat turfs in Huldremose, a village in Jutland. He went about his task as normal, but then, it happened. His shovel struck something strange, something entirely unexpected. Intrigued, he stopped digging. He looked closer and had to do a double take. He had found a body.

A local man had gone missing recently, so naturally, the worker made the connection. Thus, the police constable Siersted was first on the scene, along with the doctor Steenberg, and a pharmacist, Hoffmeyer, from a nearby town. They all decided to move the body to a nearby farm where it could be examined further. Atter undressing and washing it, they realized it was clearly not their missing man. Not only was it a female body, but it was also decidedly ancient. Since the police had no reason to keep her, they decided to bury her in a churchyard at Ørum.

Before the burial of the person they dubbed, “Huldremose Woman,” Dr. Steenberg wrote to the National Museum, blithely admitting that he had stripped the body of her woolen clothes, and that they “are now hanging out to dry at my farm after being washed.” Archeologists today would recoil in horror that these priceless textiles had been treated as laundry. Despite this misjudgment, the clothes are still in remarkable condition and are some of the most well-preserved textiles that have been found in a prehistoric context.

The Huldremose woman dates to between 160 BC and AD 340, the Iron Age. Many questions surround the circumstances of her death. She appears not to have died of natural causes. A violent cut almost severed her right arm before her death. Some archeologists have interpreted the cause of death to be the resulting blood loss, although others have theorized that this cut could have happened as a result of her time in the bog. Others have pointed to the cord around her neck as being a sign of strangulation—her long hair was tied up with a cord that was subsequently wrapped around her neck multiple times. There are other bog bodies that have an element of strangulation. Still others have argued that the cord could have a ritual or symbolic meaning behind it and may not indicate strangulation.

The reasons for her death and unique burial also perplexes scholars. Another cord around her neck contained two small amber beads. The impression of a ring on her left hand indicates that she originally wore a ring, now missing. Was it taken by her killers prior to burial or a later grave robber? Yet why were the rest of the items not stolen? The ritual elements are also unclear. She had a stick of willow placed on her breast, perhaps as a part of a burial ceremony. Why was she buried in a bog as opposed to burned in a funeral pyre or interned in a grave, both of which were more common among Iron Age people. Perhaps her method of burial has something to do with her death? We may not ever find a decisive explanation for the death and burial of the Huldremose woman, but we can still learn much about Iron Age culture from her remains.

By far the most interesting element of the Huldremose woman remains her extremely well-preserved and striking clothes. They consist of a checked woolen skirt, a checked woolen scarf, and two skin capes. The skirt was secured to her waist using a thin leather strap that was then placed into a woven waistband. The scarf was wound around her neck and tied in place with a pin made from bird bone under her left arm. Covering her upper body was a cape made from multiple dark brown sheep skins, wool facing outwards, adorned with a collar of light sheep skin. Under this layer was a second cape, this time with the wool layer facing inwards. This cape was clearly well-used, as it was made from eleven sheep skins stitched with an additional twenty-two patches. One of these patches wasn’t placed to cover a hole but used to hold a finely worked comb made out of bone, a blue hairband and leather cord, all wrapped in a bladder. The patch was not a pocket because one had to cut the patch open to retrieve the items. This has led some experts to conclude that the items likely served as amulets. Closest to her body, she wore a garment woven from some type of plant fibers. There are sadly only trace amounts of this garment left on the woman’s skin as the rest decomposed during her time in the bog. Color analysis reveals that the woman’s clothes were originally dyed. Woad, a luteolin-based yellow dye, and an unidentified component were all found in the skirt, creating a rich blue. Yellow berries, Scandinavian orchil, and the same unknown component as the skirt were used to dye the scarf red.

The discovery of the Huldremose woman, while leaving us with many questions, still shines a unique light on Iron Age culture. Her textiles have taught us about dyes, the use of plant and animal fibers, as well as weaving skills. Textiles from this time period are extremely rare and the fact that her textiles are so well-preserved after 2000 years is a miracle. Despite the fact that we may have more questions than answers about the Huldremose woman, she has done a great deal to help us reconstruct the lives of Iron Age individuals.

Further reading:

https://www.researchgate.net/publication/289615175_A_thread_to_the_past_The_huldremose_woman_revisited

https://rcin.org.pl/Content/22983/WA308_35474_PIII348_HULDREMOSE-FIND_I.pdf

https://en.natmus.dk/historical-knowledge/denmark/prehistoric-period-until-1050-ad/the-early-iron-age/the-woman-from-huldremose

Vanden Berghe, Ina & Devia, Beatrix & Gleba, Margarita & Mannering, Ulla. (2010). Dyes: to be or not to be. An investigation of Early Iron Age Dyes in Danish Peat Bog Textiles.