Original subtitles

[Graham] When did humans first reach the Americas?

If you were at school any time between roughly 1960 and 2010,

chances are you were taught this story.

That during the last Ice Age, bands of hunter-gatherers

passed over a land bridge connecting Asia to North America,

where the Bering Strait is now.

And that somewhere around 13,000 years ago as the ice melted,

they migrated south into the American Heartland.

Archaeology was convinced that the Americas

were not inhabited by human beings until about 13,000 years ago.

This was a dominant paradigm in the study of ancient America.

But it was wrong.

The old notion has been completely overturned

by the discovery of much older archaeological remains.

Fossilized human footprints have been found in the New Mexican desert

that date to 22,000 years ago, the height of the last Ice Age.

And though still contested,

evidence for an even earlier human presence

dating back as much as 130,000 years has recently begun to emerge.

It's high time to reconsider the whole timeline

of the human story in the Americas.

[audience applause]

Very little is left of the ancient North American monuments.

More than 90% of the structures that were documented in the 19th century

are now completely gone,

and of the less than 10% that remain,

the majority have been vandalized and destroyed.

[birds chirping]

It's disturbing to imagine what precious secrets of the ancients

were lost in colonial land grabs,

and in the systematic crushing of indigenous beliefs,

traditions, and monuments that followed.

The few sites that survive

may be critical in establishing the possibility of a lost civilization.

Sites like this one, known as Poverty Point.

It gets its somewhat unusual name

from the plantation that used to be on this spot,

just 15 miles west

of the Mississippi River in northeastern Louisiana.

For a long time, this was thought to be just a scenic hill

rising up out of the farmland.

But this isn't just a hill.

Archaeologists no longer dispute

that it's an immense man-made earthen structure,

today known simply as Mound A.

And when the surrounding area

was found to be littered with clay artifacts and human figures...

archaeologists realized that Mound A is part of a much larger ancient complex.

Climbing Mound A is really worth the effort.

You get a perspective up here that you don't get down at ground level.

What I notice immediately is how flat this land is.

If you remove the trees, and I believe the ancients did that,

you have a perfectly flat horizon in 360 degrees all around you.

But this is not some kind of defensive structure. So what is it?

Even from above, it's hard to get the full picture.

But we have a good idea of the original layout of the site.

And it's like nothing else from the ancient world.

Mound A likely originally stood as high as 100 feet,

anchoring a 43-acre plaza.

With six concentric ridges,

each perhaps as tall as six feet and leveled off at the top

creating a half circle with a diameter of three quarters of a mile,

broken up by a series of aisles,

like some kind of amphitheater.

And scattered nearby are no less than six massive man-made mounds

labeled by archaeologists, simply "A" through "F".

Poverty Point is one of the largest

and most complex ancient sites in North America.

Its oldest sections date back to 3,700 years ago...

long before its builders farmed the land or kept livestock.

And the ancient Americans of Poverty Point

then spent the next 600 years

continuously developing and improving the site.

Why?

No documents or traditions have survived

to tell us what Poverty Point's purpose was.

So archaeologists are left guessing.

Site manager and historian, Mark Brink Jr.,

is the first to admit that mainstream archaeology

hasn't been able to confirm much about this mysterious site.

Tell me everything you know about this site.

So Mound A is massive,

the largest mound constructed in the Western Hemisphere at the time,

which shows you that Poverty Point was the center of something truly big.

It suggests, then, a strong motive behind it.

Do you have any thoughts on what that motive could be?

We really don't know.

It was a ceremonial center for some reason, but we don't know yet.

- Can we add the "yet"? - Yeah.

We do have an idea

as to why it was built here and not someplace else,

and it has to do with an even more ancient site about two miles to the south.

As we go south from Poverty Point

we come to a place called Lower Jackson Mound.

And the three principal mounds of Poverty Point

are lined up precisely north-south with Lower Jackson Mound.

And Lower Jackson Mound is much older than Poverty Point.

It dates to 3500 BC, 5,500 years old.

And yet, the makers of Poverty Point were not only aware of it,

but they used it as the anchor of their whole site.

Clearly the ancient builders understood geography

and how to orient structures to true north.

But there's something else going on here at Poverty Point

that archaeologists don't like to acknowledge

encoded in its unique geometry.

You see, the flat horizon all around allows you to observe

the rising and the setting of the Sun and the Moon and the stars.

This is a place for astronomers.

Most of us are not aware of this today. Why should we be?

We live in light-polluted cities.

We can hardly see the skies at all,

but if you were the ancients and you studied the skies,

you would notice this phenomenon.

The Sun has its stopping points on the horizon.

We call them the solstices.

The Sun stops still on the summer solstice,

stays roughly in the same place for two or three days,

and then starts to move back like a pendulum swing along the horizon.

Same on the winter solstice.

Archaeoastronomer William Romain discovered that these important dates,

the solstices, respectively the longest and shortest days of the year,

were actually marked at Poverty Point

by a skillfully designed system of alignments.

If you stand at the eastern edge of the oval space

at the heart of the plaza,

the summer solstice sunset falls directly in line with Mound B,

the oldest mound.

And from the same vantage point,

the winter solstice sunset falls directly behind Mound E.

Move over to the western edge of that same inner oval,

and you'll find that the summer solstice Sun rises directly over Mound C,

while the winter solstice Sun rises directly over Mound D.

And if you gaze directly west through the center of the plaza

on either the spring or fall equinox,

the Sun appears to roll down the northern edge of Mound A

before sinking below the horizon.

Poverty Point may have more intriguing structures

designed to track changes in the sky.

In one corner of the site,

archaeologists found a large circle of holes

marked today by restored white posts.

We don't know how tall the original posts in those holes would have been,

but in its overall conception and design,

it reminds me of the prehistoric Woodhenge excavated near Stonehenge in England.

What's unique about Poverty Point is how many woodhenges it boasts.

These circles, how many of them are there here?

Well, there's probably at least 40 of them.

Scale? Across...

So, some of them are pretty small, maybe 60 feet in diameter,

some are larger, 200 or more feet in diameter,

but the dates on these vary wildly.

[Graham] They were created over the course of hundreds of years,

spanning generations of ancient Americans,

who kept tweaking their position and size over time.

I'm reminded of Malta where the megalith builders

kept changing the orientation of their temples

to face the star Sirius, culminating with Ġgantija.

And of Göbekli Tepe in Turkey

where the ancients built a series of temples

over a period of about a thousand years,

also, I believe, to track the movement of the stars.

These are all massive projects,

featuring structures repeatedly rebuilt

and shifted in their orientation over generations.

Could the multiple post circles of Poverty Point

also have been designed to track something in the heavens?

Sophisticated knowledge, true science

is evidenced by the geometry and the astronomy of the site.

Yet mainstream archaeologists are reluctant

to recognize astronomy of any kind in Poverty Point's wood circles.

- Here, I don't think they make sense. - Mmm-hmm.

Why should the people who lived here and created this place,

why should they not have been interested in the sky?

- I'm not saying they weren't. - No.

I bet they were.

Okay. So what do you think the circles were used for?

We don't know. We don't know yet

if they were used for astronomy purposes or not.

[Graham] Yeah.

Ancient cultures were very fixated upon the sky.

That notion isn't in itself disputed,

but archaeology tends to regard it as irrelevant.

I think that the reason is, in part,

because most archaeologists just don't understand astronomy at all.

It's not what they've been taught to do,

and secondly, they regard it as an intrusion

into their domain by outsiders.

I'm not claiming that Poverty Point was created

by the lost advanced civilization I'm looking for.

But I'm interested in the origins

of the sophisticated astronomy and geometry

that were deployed here.

There's evidence that advanced architectural,

Earth-measuring and astronomical knowledge was inherited from earlier times,

but inherited from whom and how much earlier?

I'm not saying the ancient Americans living here

weren't capable of discovering and incorporating

these astronomical observations into their sites by themselves.

On the contrary.

I think we've passed the point

where we should regard the Native American cultures

as simply hunter-gatherers.

They were much more complicated than that and much more sophisticated.

And their vision of Earth's place in the cosmos

expressed by the alignments at Poverty Point

is essentially the same vision

that we've seen in other ancient sites around the world,

sharing the same focus

on the sacred connection between Earth and sky.

Poverty Point is just one of 800 Mound Builder sites

surviving across the state of Louisiana.

While in North America as a whole,

out of an original estimated total of one million mounds,

around 100,000 still remain.

Amongst these, the most spectacular example of a mound

expressing the sacred connection between Earth and sky,

lies about 600 miles to the northeast of Poverty Point in Ohio,

a site that may just hold the key to understanding what happened

to the lost civilization I've been searching for.

Perched atop a densely forested ridge

lies a stunning example of an effigy mound.

A gigantic earthwork shaped into the form of a living creature.

In this case, a 400-meter-long snake.

It's called Serpent Mound.

Starting from its coiled tail,

seven bends in its body wind their way to the head,

where gaping jaws appear about to engulf a separate oval earthwork.

Even from the air, it's hard to make out all the detail.

But by taking into account new discoveries about its original construction

and stripping away the trees,

we can reveal what the effigy would have looked like in its prime.

Serpent Mound extends more than quarter of a mile

from its jaws in the northwest

to its tail on the southwestern corner of the hilltop.

Originally, there was a circle of standing stones by the head,

function unknown.

And just behind the head, two decorative extensions,

function, likewise, unknown.

Serpent Mound is a remarkable, graceful structure,

one that instills wonder in those who visit.

It's clearly an ancient and mysterious place.

But who built the huge effigy, and why?

The sign of the site will tell you it was built around 1000 AD

by an indigenous people referred to as the Fort Ancient Culture.

But the sign, like so many of these historical markers, is wrong.

Truth is that nobody really knows how old Serpent Mound is.

That date of 1000 AD

was based on just two of the organic samples

taken from parts of the mound that may have been later reconstructed,

because another archaeological survey found samples from the serpent's base

dating back to 321 BC.

The evidence that Serpent Mound was

the subject of a restoration is very clear.

I suggest that these restorations go back deep into the past.

There's just one problem with investigating my theory.

The administrators of Serpent Mound have decided to ban me.

We've made repeated efforts to get permission to film here,

but they denied us that permission.

On what I regard as ideological and indeed rather personal grounds,

let me read from their email.

"Our role is to ensure that

Serpent Mound's integrity and preservation,

both physically

and in its historical interpretation, are maintained."

"Because the presenter of this series, Graham Hancock,

proposes a theory and story that do not align

with what we know to be true about Serpent Mound,

your request is declined."

A correct word for this so-called mission to protect the interpretation of the site

is, of course, censorship.

And what more effective way

for archaeologists to censor and restrain and crush opposing views

than to deny access to archaeological sites?

It's by no means the first time this has happened.

This unfortunately is systematic and consistent behavior

amongst archaeologists.

They do practice censorship.

They practice censorship by ridiculing and insulting alternative ideas.

So what exactly is it in this theory of mine

that's deemed so objectionable?

Quite simply, it's because I dare to suggest

that the idea behind the design of Serpent Mound

goes back to a time much earlier than 300 BC,

more than 10,000 years earlier to the end of the last Ice Age.

And for me, the proof of this lies in one of its most stunning attributes,

one that mainstream archaeologists don't like to acknowledge.

Because again, it involves the sky.

If you overfly Serpent Mound on the summer solstice around June 21st,

you'll immediately notice that the jaws of the serpent

are aligned almost directly to the point where the Sun sets.

So this is what happens at sunset on the summer solstice.

You see the head of the serpent, it seems to be seeking out the Sun,

and then as the Sun begins to go down, you get it more clearly,

this beautiful alignment between Earth and sky,

then the majesty of the site just overwhelms you.

It's obvious to anybody today

that that is what the head of the great serpent is pointing at.

But that idea was ignored and rejected by archaeology for a very long time.

The organization, which runs the site,

has allowed an enormous number of trees to grow up around the head of the serpent.

I think they believe it provides shade to tourists.

But what it does is it limits that massive impact

of seeing the head of the serpent pointing directly at the setting Sun.

Jeff Wilson, who owns much of the property next to the ancient effigy,

is the president of an independent group called The Friends of Serpent Mound,

dedicated to preserving and promoting this and other Native American sites.

Clearly Serpent Mound is very important to you.

Yes, it's very personal to me.

It's one of the most spiritual places I've ever visited.

It's a sacred place.

When you encounter it,

you walk away feeling changed by the experience when you come here.

It's the most amazing archaeoastronomy site in North America,

- bar none. - Yes.

What makes it so is the recent confirmation that the Mound Builders

cleverly incorporated a whole series of sky ground alignments

into Serpent Mound's design.

The center of the second bend behind the head

points eastward to where the Sun rises on the summer solstice,

and the center of the following bend

targets the sunrise on the spring and fall equinoxes

when night and day are of equal length.

While the center of the final bend

is aimed where the Sun rises on the winter solstice,

the shortest day of the year.

As for that intricately coiled tail,

if you draw a straight line from its exact center

through the hinge of the serpent's jaws,

you'll find it's precisely oriented to true astronomical north.

To construct it and to figure out

where all these astronomical alignments that are incorporated into its design

is just an amazing sheer work of genius...

It's a work of genius, yeah.

...from the prehistoric Native Americans.

Yeah. And that genius is easily overlooked, actually.

Is archaeology taking the astronomy of this site seriously?

Are enough archaeologists taking it seriously?

I don't think so, no.

Um...

There's very few people that even pay attention to it or consider it.

It's as though mainstream archaeologists want us to believe

that all these astronomical alignments happen by accident.

I think it's fair to say that there were people in ancient Native America

with advanced surveying, geometrical and astronomical skills,

and they put those skills to work in the creation of enormous monuments,

most of which have tragically been swept away.

These precise solar alignments manifested on such a gigantic scale

represent an extraordinary achievement for hunter-gatherers

living in the 3rd century BC.

But there's evidence suggesting that the ridge where Serpent Mound sits

was considered sacred for thousands of years before that.

Every single culture that ever existed here,

dating back to the last Ice Age, left cultural remains at Serpent Mound.

What it says to me, this continuous human presence here,

it kind of suggests to me that the site's been sacred for a very long time.

Right.

It seems to me that should be taken into account

in the archaeological narrative.

It should be part of the story of Serpent Mound.

Yes.

Archaeologists have been wrong before and they could be wrong again.

All in all, it's obvious that the origins of Serpent Mound are complicated.

What if 321 BC doesn't mark the year of Serpent Mound's construction,

but one of its many reconstructions?

Let's not forget we're dealing with a serpent here,

and that serpents are creatures renowned for their ability to change their skin.

It's a possibility actually suggested by Serpent Mound's unique alignment.

You see, it isn't quite perfect.

Today the summer solstice Sun, as viewed from Serpent Mound,

actually sets about two degrees off the exact center of the jaws.

Seems close enough to the naked eye.

But it's hard to believe that the people who conceived of and created

this sophisticated effigy mound, tracking all those calendar moments,

would go to all this trouble and not get it exactly right.

I think they did get it right.

It all has to do with the way the Earth shifts on its axis over the millennia.

In a phenomenon long known to astronomers

who refer to it as the obliquity of the ecliptic.

To put it in simple terms,

the Earth, as we know, is tilted on its axis,

but that tilt is not fixed and constant.

It changes over a 41,000-year cycle.

It changes roughly two-and-a-half degrees over that cycle.

It nods back and forward,

and that affects the rising position of the Sun on the summer solstice.

Instead of asking why the serpent's jaws

aren't perfectly aligned to the summer solstice sunset,

what if we asked a different question?

When, if one takes into account this obliquity of the ecliptic,

did the gaping jaws and the setting Sun line up perfectly?

Turns out it wasn't a thousand years ago,

or even 2,300 years ago,

when archaeologists insist Serpent Mound was first constructed.

The serpent's mouth was exactly centered on the Sun

around 12,800 years ago

at the end of the last Ice Age,

when the ridge on which the serpent was built

itself occupied an extraordinarily significant spot.

At the very peak of the Ice Age, around 20,000 years ago,

much of North America was covered by an immense ice cap over a mile deep.

Today, Ohio's Serpent Mound Valley is a forest-covered wilderness,

but let's not look at it as it is now.

Let's look at it as it was during the last Ice Age.

This very valley, where the great serpent was constructed,

actually marks the furthest south that the North American ice sheet reached.

The giant ice cliffs rising just by this ridge

would have looked like something out of a fantasy novel.

To the people who lived through this period,

it must have seemed that some benign magical power was at work.

But any celebration of the halt of the ice would have been short-lived,

because sometime around 12,800 years ago,

when the serpent was perfectly aligned with the summer solstice,

something huge was happening all over the planet.

[thunderclap]

Something apocalyptic

called the Younger Dryas.

It was a period of radical climate change and rising sea levels.

Humanity survived, but barely.

I find it intriguing, by means of its alignment to the summer solstice sunset,

that Serpent Mound serves as a signpost, a date stamp,

drawing our attention to the skies of 12,800 years ago,

a time when we know there was a global cataclysm

big enough to have destroyed an advanced civilization.

Again, I'm reminded of Göbekli Tepe,

where figures of creatures carved into one of the most spectacular pillars

seem to depict the position of the stars at the summer solstice

during the time of the Younger Dryas.

It's no accident in my view that the serpent's solstitial alignment

also speaks to that same cataclysmic epoch.

But why a serpent?

Of the greatest relevance, I think,

are numerous Native American myths and traditions

in which giant serpents are directly associated with cataclysmic Earth changes.

There's an ancient legend of the Iroquois

whose domain at the height of their power extended deep into Ohio.

The villain of the legend is a giant horned serpent.

Long ago, a village was plagued by a great serpent

who dwelt in a nearby lake.

So the great spirit in the sky sent down a hero to defeat him.

In a vicious battle, bolts of lightning struck the serpent,

the sound shook the Earth, and the flashes were so bright

that the people shielded their eyes, covered their ears, and hid in fear.

The very constellations were dislodged from the night sky

and came crashing to Earth with a ferocious blast and scorching heat.

One star fell into the lake, wounding the horned serpent.

As the great serpent thrashed its tail in pain,

it sent 100-foot waves

crashing through the valleys in a series of colossal floods.

Most of the tribe didn't survive, but the serpent was driven away.

We've already seen such serpent imagery in ancient monuments all over the world.

On the temples in Mexico,

dedicated to Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent,

carved into the temple of Ġgantija on Malta,

and raining down from the skies on the pillars of Göbekli Tepe.

It's a powerful symbol

found at sites that invite us to look to the heavens.

Why?

I think this Iroquois legend has more than a kernel of truth to it.

Perhaps the stars,

or something resembling stars, did fall to Earth.

Perhaps there was great flooding afterwards,

part of those earthshaking cataclysms of the Younger Dryas.

If the original version of Serpent Mound

was designed sometime around the end of the last Ice Age, as I believe,

then perhaps it was intended to carry a message to the future,

a warning even, as to what caused that apocalyptic series of events

around 12,800 years ago,

a warning to look to the heavens for stars falling from the sky.

A quarter of the way around the Earth,

there's evidence that other ancient peoples also lived in terror

of just such a threat from above,

and took steps to protect themselves

deep in the heart of Cappadocia in modern-day Turkey,

which is where I'm heading next.