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OOLITIC
LIMESTONE
Tim Palmer
Many of the medieval monuments in the more
southerly counties of England are made of pale, easily carvable limestone of
Jurassic age. The detailed geological
character of these stones may point to both provenance and date of the
monument, so an accurate petrological description is important. The first thing to determine is whether they
are oolitic or non-oolitic limestones. This distinction causes much confusion,
because some people think that the term oolitic limestone covers all limestones
from the Jurassic limestone belt. In
fact, it refers only to the specific geological character of some of them.
The great majority of the limestones that we
meet in monuments or buildings started as shallow seafloor sediments, consisting
of clean-washed sand-sized grains of calcium carbonate. Either these grains were derived from the
breakdown of shells and other calcareous skeletons, or else they grew on the
seafloor by precipitation of the mineral calcite around smaller particles, just
as lime-scale may grow on the inside of a kettle. This second category constitutes the ooliths. Surprisingly, they have a rather limited
size range (typically from 0.2-0.8 mm in diameter: when they reached the
maximum size they abraded away as fast as they grew and enlarged no
further). They are also
characteristically very well rounded or spherical. When sliced through and viewed microscopically, the layered
structure of the precipitated calcite around the central nucleus is seen. They look like the many layers within the
gobstoppers that some of us remember from our youth.
Many Jurassic limestones consist of little other
than ooliths, maybe with the odd fossil or fragment. Others have much more shell debris in them, either scattered
through a mass of ooliths or (more usually) in debris-rich layers that
alternate with oolith-rich layers. This
pattern reflects the surging of currents during the initial accumulation of the
sediment and is very evident in limestones from near Bath. Other limestones accumulated on the seafloor
in areas where ooliths did not form, so the resulting limestones only contain
shell fragments from the invertebrate fauna that originally lived there. Geologists refer to these as bioclastic
limestones.
Because the smooth spherical character,
size-range, and abundance of ooliths is highly distinctive, there should be no
problem in recognising them on a cut or rubbed stone surface, especially with a
magnifier (no-one should ever venture out without one). Even the concentric laminations and the
nucleus may be clear on close inspection.
Experience will soon allow distinction between an oolitic limestone and
a limestone that is principally composed of comminuted shell debris.
However, there is a further complication that
may confuse neophytes and cause one oolitic limestone to look rather different
from another. This is the disposition
of the natural mineral cement within the stone. Limestones acquire their hardness by growth, during burial, of
calcite crystals in the minute holes (pore space) between the grains. This material is popularly called
‘spar’. Some oolitic limestones (e.g.
Ketton and Portland) are held together by tiny dabs of spar, principally at the
points where adjacent ooliths touch.
This is quite enough to give the stone rigidity, and a close look will
show the ooliths themselves looking like ball-bearings in a box with the spar
not evident (A). But other oolitic
limestones (e.g. Bath, B) have their original porespace completely filled with
spar, so that the ooliths at the cut surface of the stone may fall away to
reveal a surface texture dominated by the concave moulds in the enclosing spar
– like close-packed egg-cups on a tray.
The first type is referred to as a grain-prominent oolitic limestone,
and the second as a spar-prominent one.
Yet others have lots of spar, but the individual ooliths are stronger
and tend to remain in their little sparry cups at the cut surface. Painswick stone (C) from north of Stroud
frequently shows this character.
Each frame
(below) is c. 2 cm wide and shows what you would expect to see with a x10
magnifier and a clean surface.
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A.
Portland Stone with grain-prominent, small ooliths.
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B. Bath
Stone with spar-prominent texture.
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C.
Painswick Stone with most ooliths held tightly by the natural cement.
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D.
Dundry Stone with no ooliths, only shell fragments.
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Why, then, are some of the most distinctive
non-oolitic limestones that contain only shell debris (Doulting and the
highly-important mediaeval Dundry limestone (D) come to mind) persistently and
erroneously referred to as oolitic when they are nothing of the sort? Geologists are not completely blameless,
because the major Jurassic limestone sequences that run south-west to
north-east across England were, in the 19th century, referred to as
the Lower, Middle, and Upper Oolites.
The Lower was the most widespread and economically important, comprising
the Great Oolite of the Bath region, and the Inferior (= subjacent) Oolite near
Cheltenham. These stratigraphic units
contain many different varieties of limestone of which only some are oolitic,
but the name (maybe because it is such a euphonious word) was applied to the
whole sequence. Then the historians of
architectural materials came along and found it convenient to refer to this
swathe of country as the Oolite Belt, and the trap was sprung. Ergo
an oolitic limestone is any limestone from the Oolite Belt. Except, of course, that it isn’t.
Carrara and Purbeck:
a Tale of Two marbles
Tim Palmer
It was while I was
putting out the rubbish that it occurred to me how I might lead into an
explanation of marble as a material.
Here in west Wales the plastic wheelie bin does not yet rule supreme,
and we are still allowed to use the traditional dustbin. The galvanised surface is a thin layer of
zinc that has been induced to grow on the iron vessel by electrolysis. The zinc is in the form of crystals that
grew outwards along the iron surface until they met their advancing neighbours
and stopped. The result, looked at
closely, resembles a jigsaw in which the pieces have angular contacts that abut
against each other, rather than interlocking ones. This is the essence of any mass of material that is made up of intergrown
crystals. The ice on a frozen
windscreen is another – but both ice and zinc galvanisation are two-dimensional
crystalline layers. The same thing can
also happen in three dimensions, though it is not so familiar to us in our
day-to-day experiences. The solid
coating of ice that builds up on the walls of an old-fashioned deep-freeze has
this structure of intergrowing crystals, and so does marble.
In marble’s case,
the material of which the stone is composed is the mineral calcite, the most
common of the crystalline varieties of calcium carbonate and one of the 2 or 3
most important minerals in the stones that are used by architects and
carvers. The purest white marbles, such
as statuary Carrara, are 100% pure calcite.
In contrast, most marbles, including other varieties of Carrara, have
other minerals (usually mixtures of clays or iron-rich compounds) mixed in with
them, and this gives many of them a streaked or grey appearance, or some other
colour or pattern. Marked variation in
colour and texture is even more evident in the sedimentary marbles, which may
also contain fossils. Purbeck is a
familiar example.
All marbles started
their geological life as limestones, which are also predominantly composed of
calcite, and the formation of marble from limestone principally involved a
textural change. The original limestone
sediment was a mix of grains and limey mud.
Shell fragments and ooliths (see the last Newsletter) often
featured. Each of these components was
itself a jumble of carbonate crystals, of widely differing shapes, sizes, and
orientations. In addition, there were
originally minute spaces between the constituents. A thought-experiment helps:
imagine a bowl of sugar (a crystalline substance), assembled as a
mixture of all the different varieties that can be found in the kitchen
cupboard: granulated and caster; powered icing sugar and large hard lumps of
coffee sugar. Air fills the tiny
pore-spaces between the grains. If we
dampen this mixture, the surfaces of the grains dissolve: on drying, the grains
stick together as lumps because the dissolved sugar crystallises and forms a
bond where adjacent grains touch. The
finest particles may dissolve completely and end up as additions to the
surfaces of the larger crystals. This
is the analogy to the growth of a true metamorphic marble like Carrara. In a damp, warm environment buried within
the earth, small crystals of calcite go into solution and the atoms (more
correctly ions, because they carry an electrical charge) migrate a short distance
to the surfaces of large crystals on which they settle and add to the solid
crystal structure. Over time, the smallest
crystals disappear and larger ones grow at their expense until they meet their
neighbours and cannot enlarge further. Typically the average size of the crystals at this stage is 0.5 -
1 mm across. Fossils and individual grains
in the parent limestone become less distinct as they dissolve and
reprecipitate. If there are impurities
in the limestone, they may undergo chemical alteration and form darker streaks,
wisps and veins. This is the process by which a porous
limestone becomes a dense marble of solid interlocking crystals as seen in the
Figure below (the similarity to the galvanised texture is obvious though the
crystal size is much smaller and the fabric is 3-dimensional). The warmer the burial environment, the
faster (geologically speaking) the alteration process – an example of
metamorphism – occurs. That is why
limestones that are buried deeply or close to hot volcanic rocks readily become
altered to marble. The parent limestone
does not have to be very old: the limestones that recrystallised to give
Carrara marble were about the same age as the famous fossil-bearing rocks of
Lyme Regis.
In contrast, a
sedimentary marble like Purbeck has undergone recrystallisation by a rather different
process. The famous pond-snails that
provide the main constituent of Purbeck Marble lived in a coastal freshwater
lagoon, and its floor was composed of a 2 foot deep layer of the dead shells. These shells were made of aragonite, another
calcium carbonate mineral that commonly makes up the shells of molluscs. Calcite and aragonite have exactly the same
atoms in them in the same proportions, but aragonite is more soluble than
calcite in the damp buried environment that persisted as the lake floor became covered
by later deposits above it. The aragonite shells started to be replaced by
calcite crystals, which seeded and grew outwards at the expense of their more
soluble aragonite neighbours. Soon the
advancing calcite crystals, as in Carrara, met one another and the replacement
of aragonite by a mosaic of calcite crystals was complete. So both types of marble show a fabric of
tightly abutting calcite crystals that with little space between them (see the
figure below), but the origins or the fabrics are rather different in the two
cases. In Purbeck Marble, spaces
between the shells also filled up with a natural cement of intergrown calcite
crystals so that the whole rock became dense and crystalline. Minor additional iron minerals coloured it
blue-grey, red, or green.
When a marble is
polished, it is the individual calcite crystals that are cut and smoothed to a
high-gloss finish. Many ordinary
limestones can never achieve this because, at a microscopic level, they are
full of pores. Only when a limestone
loses these can a glossy finish be achieved.
Some older limestones (Hopton Wood from the Carboniferous of Derbyshire
comes to mind) have gradually lost their pores through natural calcite cement
growing in the original pore-spaces, and have achieved enough closely-grown
large calcite crystals to become polishable.
Anglesey and Egglestone marbles are other examples of Carboniferous hard
limestones that will take a polish.
Geologists often get
rather stuffy about applying the term marble to the polishable limestones,
asserting that the word should only be used for the true metamorphic
product. I don’t take this view: after
all, the term marble has been applied to polishable limestone since well back into
the Middle Ages, whereas the subject (and the name) of Geology only started in
the 18th century.
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Figure caption. Photographs of polished surfaces of Carrara
(left) and Purbeck (right) marbles seen under the electron microscope. In the left-hand specimen the width of view
is about 2 mm; in the right-hand one, about 4 mm. In both cases the texture is one of closely intergrown calcite
crystals. Purbeck also shows the
outlines of the pond-snail shells where the original aragonite has been
replaced by calcite.
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