A Democracy of Goods: An Archaeology of Commodity Landscapes in Columbia, SC (2011) by Columbia Archaeology Program

“A DEMOCRACY OF GOODS”: AN ARCHAEOLOGY OF COMMODITY LANDSCAPES IN COLUMBIA, SOUTH CAROLINA, 1870-1930 by Jakob D. Crockett

Bachelor of Science University of Utah, 1999 Bachelor of Science University of Utah, 2002 Master of Arts University of South Carolina, 2005

Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements For the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy in Anthropology College of Arts and Sciences University of South Carolina 2011 Accepted by: Kenneth Kelly, Major Professor Ann Kingsolver, Committee Member Edward Carr, Committee Member Joanna Casey, Committee Member Kimberly Simmons, Committee Member Tim Mousseau, Dean of The Graduate School

DEDICATION To my family and Kelseyâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;for reasons they already know

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The completion of any long-term project is dependent upon the contributions of a multitude of individuals, but the format of a dissertation only allows for my name to follow the notation “By:” on the title page. The following individuals deserve special recognition for their contributions. A complete list of all individuals who contributed to the field and laboratory work is found in Appendix A. Words fall short of the contributions and impact members of my committee had on my research. Nonetheless, I owe special thanks to Ken Kelly, who directed and encouraged my research from thesis to dissertation, and continues to be involved in the current post-dissertation project at the site. Over the years, Ken planted many seedling ideas in my head that caused me to think more critically about my work, shaped this dissertation, and continue to grow today. Ann Kingsolver is an inspiration and model anthropologist who helped me realize what an anthropological approach to archaeology really is. Several of the ideas in this dissertation are the direct product of many enjoyable conversations I had with Joanna Casey. Ed Carr pushed me to think simultaneously more broadly and deeply. Kim Simmons provided useful information and ideas to build upon. For all the times I forgot to turn in paperwork by a deadline, Catharine Keegan made it all work out—thank you Cat. Claudia Carriere always made sure I had what I needed in the department and made my time there enjoyable. Tom Leatherman had a greater impact during the formative years of this project than perhaps he recognizes— iv

thank you Tom for the conversations and support. Ana Albu put me on the track to archaeology and making this happen. I am indebted to Robin Waites, Executive Director of Historic Columbia Foundation, and John Sherrer, Director of Cultural Resources. Not only did they let me dig holes and place large piles dirt all over their property for two years (and wait another year for the grass to grow back), simply put: this project would not have happened without their support and willingness to take a chance on my ideas. From the beginning, Robin saw potential in archaeology for (re)interpreting the Mann-Simons site; over the years she turned that potential into opportunities for participation and education that go well beyond archaeology. This project would be an impoverished version of what it is without John's support and friendship. My thinking expanded and improved immeasurable during the many, many hours of conversations we have had over the past six years. I always looked forward to our interactions and continue to look forward to the many years of conversations ahead. Thank you John. Kasey Grier has been an inspiration and sounding board for many of my ideas since my MA thesis. Her guidance, suggestions, excitement, and continual encouragement have benefited the project and me as a scholar. Emile Guthrie, National Endowment for the Humanities Associate Librarian at the Henry Francis du Pont Winterthur Museum, taught me how an archive is actually organized, how to find what I was looking for, and brought to my attention documents that I had no idea existed. By the end of my stay at Winterthur, Emily had become a friend. Thank you Emile. The extent of fieldwork completed between 2006 and 2007 would not have happened without the help of HelĂŠna Fergusonâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;field school student turned volunteer

turned paid field technician turned teaching assistant. The completion of fieldwork in 2005 is a direct result of Joseph Crockett's time and efforts. I had the privilege of directing three field schools at the site during May 2006, Fall 2007, and May 2007. Their hard work, interest, and excitement made for a better project. I am thankful to the individuals who have used this site as a platform for their own research. Long-term projects do not happen without funding. I thank the following organizations for their financial support: Historic Columbia Foundation supported this project with money and resources since the beginning; the University of South Carolina Department of Anthropology supported the project with three summer research grants; The Humanities Council SC, a National Endowment for the Humanities program, provided funding for the first season of excavation; and the Henry Francis du Pont Winterthur Museum granted me a McNeil Dissertation Fellowship for resident study during fall semester 2007. Without the continued support and encouragement of my family I would not be where I am todayâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;I could never put into words what their support means to me. I owe a deep appreciation to Kelsey Hanrahan, who patiently listened to endless incarnations of many of the ideas contained hereinâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;her support and tireless encouragement helped me through the process of moving from excavation to dissertation. Thank you Kelsey.

ABSTRACT This dissertation examines the formation of commodity landscapes that manifested between 1870 and 1930 at the Mann-Simons site, a collection of commercial and domestic spaces in downtown Columbia, South Carolina, owned and operated by the same African American family from the mid-nineteenth century to 1970. Primary data comes from archaeological excavations at the site. Through a lens of commodities production and consumption, I tell three stories of the family and property using a variety of theoretical tools, including discourse materialized, hybridity, object mediation, and thick description. By considering, in turn, the same set of archaeologically-recovered objects from three distinct vantage points â&#x20AC;&#x201C; consumption, production, and heritage â&#x20AC;&#x201C; the Mann-Simons site illuminates how commodity landscapes shaped, and were shaped by, discourses at myriad scales and how these landscapes mediated practice and knowledges. The first story is one of production, telling a story of the social lives of things understood independently of the practices of the family. I demonstrate how discourses of health and sanitation linked objects from linoleum to brightly-colored walls; how home electrification influenced the materials of which buttons were made; and how the application of the predictive commodity flow model is useful for understanding alternative market interactions. The second story, one of consumption, is a story of object biographies. I demonstrate that through an understanding of object

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mediation and ideas of technology, the Mann-Simons family at the turn of the twentieth century was using the emerging world of commodities to tie themselves into a desired future trajectory, one that would become mainstream by the 1930s: commodities as the path to modernity. The final story is one of heritage. I suggest that museums are socialmaterial hybrids that mediate visitors' conceptions of authenticity, knowledge, and history. At the Mann-Simons site, this hybridity shaped the meaning and significance of this site-turned-house museum over the past forty-years. I further examine the role of archaeology within and for various publics and present a framework for integrating critical and empirical archaeologies. I conclude with an examination of my metaquestion: what is the value of archaeologies of the recent past?

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TABLE OF CONTENTS DEDICATION ....................................................................................................................... iii ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS........................................................................................................ iv ABSTRACT ......................................................................................................................... vii LIST OF TABLES .................................................................................................................. xi LIST OF FIGURES ............................................................................................................... xiii CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION ..................................................................................................1 1.1 THINKING ABOUT ORDINARY OBJECTS .......................................................................5 1.2 TOWARD AN UNDERSTANDING OF ORDINARY OBJECTS ............................................11 1.3 THE STRUCTURE OF THE DISSERTATION ....................................................................27 CHAPTER 2: ARCHAEOLOGY AND METHODOLOGY .............................................................36 2.1 PREVIOUS ARCHAEOLOGICAL RESEARCH ..................................................................38 2.2 FIELD METHODS ........................................................................................................39 2.3 LABORATORY METHODS ...........................................................................................42 2.4 COLLECTION DATING ................................................................................................46 2.5 ARTIFACT CLASSIFICATION .......................................................................................48 2.6 EXCAVATION STAGES ................................................................................................56 2.7 SITE STRATIGRAPHY ..................................................................................................63 2.8 THE LUNCH COUNTER ...............................................................................................65 2.9 THE PRIVY ...............................................................................................................116 2.10 TRASH PIT (FEATURE 31C-COMPLEX)...................................................................133 2.11 TRASH PIT (FEATURE 34C-COMPLEX)...................................................................153 2.12 TRASH PIT (FEATURE 49JC-COMPLEX) .................................................................162 2.13 OTHER BACKYARD STRUCTURES ..........................................................................179 2.14 INFRASTRUCTURE ..................................................................................................182 2.15 OTHER FEATURES ..................................................................................................188 2.16 DOCUMENTARY METHODOLOGY ...........................................................................196 2.17 ETHNOGRAPHIC METHODOLOGY ...........................................................................205 ix

CHAPTER 3: A HISTORY OF MANN-SIMONS ......................................................................208 3.1 HOUSEHOLD 1: BEN DELANE AND CELIA MANN.....................................................214 3.2 HOUSEHOLD 2: AGNES JACKSON SIMONS ................................................................221 3.3 HOUSEHOLD 3: CHARLES H. SIMONS .......................................................................227 3.4 HOUSEHOLD 4: AMANDA GREEN SIMONS ...............................................................231 3.5 HOUSEHOLD 5: BERNICE CONNORS .........................................................................232 3.6 “HOUSEHOLD” 6: A HISTORIC PLACE ......................................................................234 3.7 CONCLUSION ...........................................................................................................236 CHAPTER 4: A STORY OF PRODUCTION .............................................................................237 4.1 COMMODITIES: SCENE 1 ..........................................................................................240 4.2 COMMODITY FLOW .................................................................................................244 4.3 COMMODITY CHAINS...............................................................................................255 4.4 HEALTH AND SANITATION .......................................................................................259 4.5 THE MATERIALS OF MATERIAL CULTURE ...............................................................291 4.6 CONCLUSION ...........................................................................................................304 CHAPTER 5: A STORY OF CONSUMPTION ..........................................................................307 5.1 COMMODITIES: SCENE 2 ..........................................................................................318 5.2 SNAPSHOTS OF MANN-SIMONS ................................................................................325 5.3 THE FUTURE IS MANN-SIMONS ...............................................................................356 CHAPTER 6: A STORY OF US .............................................................................................359 6.1 FROM FAMILY HISTORY TO PUBLIC TRUTH .............................................................362 6.2 THE EVOLUTION OF A WRITTEN INTERPRETATION ..................................................367 6.3 COMMODITIES: SCENE 3 ..........................................................................................380 6.4 ARCHAEOLOGY AND PUBLICS .................................................................................393 6.5 THE VALUE OF ARCHAEOLOGIES OF THE RECENT PAST ..........................................401 REFERENCES .....................................................................................................................405 APPENDIX A. FIELD AND LABORATORY CONTRIBUTORS ..................................................426 APPENDIX B. OBJECT CATALOG FIELDS AND VALUES ......................................................432 APPENDIX C. FAUNAL METHODOLOGY.............................................................................440 APPENDIX D. ARTIFACT CATALOG ...................................................................................455 APPENDIX E. SUMMARY OF CITY DIRECTORY INFORMATION ...........................................456 APPENDIX F. INTERVIEW CONSENT FORM ........................................................................465

LIST OF TABLES Table 2.1. Summary of Artifacts from Stratum 11D, Level 4. ..........................................69 Table 2.2. Summary of Ceramic Kitchen Group Artifacts from Stratum 11D, Level 4....72 Table 2.3. Summary of Artifacts from Stratum 11J, Level 5. ..........................................75 Table 2.4. Summary of Ceramic Kitchen Group Artifacts from Stratum 11J, Level 5. ....78 Table 2.5. Summary of Artifacts from Feature 12T. .........................................................85 Table 2.6. Summary of Ceramic Kitchen Group Artifacts from Feature 12T...................95 Table 2.7. Cylindrical Can Data from Feature 12T. ........................................................103 Table 2.8. Taxa Representation, Feature 12T. .................................................................110 Table 2.9. Beef Cuts, Feature 12T. ..................................................................................111 Table 2.10. Pork Cuts, Feature 12T. ................................................................................111 Table 2.11. Sheep/Goat Cuts, Feature 12T. .....................................................................111 Table 2.12. Summary of Artifacts from Feature 39J-Complex (Privy). ..........................121 Table 2.13. Summary of Ceramic Kitchen Group Artifacts, Feature 39J-Complex........124 Table 2.14. Taxa Representation, Feature 39J-Complex.................................................132 Table 2.15. Beef Cuts, Feature 39J-Complex. .................................................................132 Table 2.16. Summary of Artifacts from Feature 31C-Complex. .....................................136

Table 2.17. Summary of Ceramic Kitchen Group Artifacts, Feature 31C-Complex. .....143 Table 2.18. Cylindrical Can Data from Feature 31C-Complex. ......................................146 Table 2.19. Taxa Representation, Feature 31C-Complex................................................150 Table 2.20. Beef Cuts, Feature 31C-Complex.................................................................151 Table 2.21. Pork Cuts, Feature 31C-Complex.................................................................151 Table 2.22. Sheep/Goat Cuts, Feature 31C-Complex......................................................151 Table 2.23. Summary of Artifacts from Feature 34C-Complex. .....................................156 Table 2.24. Summary of Ceramic Kitchen Group Artifacts, Feature 34C-Complex. .....159 Table 2.25. Cylindrical Can Data from Feature 34C-Complex. ......................................160 Table 2.26. Summary of Artifacts from Feature 49J-Complex. ......................................165 Table 2.27. Summary of Ceramic Kitchen Group Artifacts, Feature 49J-Complex........172 Table 2.28. Cylindrical Can Data from Feature 49J-Complex. .......................................174 Table 4.1. Summary of Artifacts (MNI) Associated with Identifiable Makers' Marks. ..250 Table C.1. Skeletal Correlates to Cattle Butchering Units. .............................................443 Table C.2. Skeletal Correlates to Pig Butchering Units...................................................443 Table C.3. Skeletal Correlates to Sheep/Goat Butchering Units. ....................................443 Table C.4. Mammalian Size Classes................................................................................444

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LIST OF FIGURES Figure 1.1. 1403 Richland Street Today. .............................................................................2 Figure 1.2. “Democracy of Goods” Advertisement.............................................................4 Figure 2.1. 1904 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map of Columbia. ............................................38 Figure 2.2. Locations of Shovel Test Pits. .........................................................................57 Figure 2.3. Locations of Excavation Units. .......................................................................58 Figure 2.4A. Locations of Excavation Units Relative to Past and Present Structures.......61 Figure 2.4B. Photograph of Block 1. .................................................................................62 Figure 2.5. Excavation Units Associated with Block 1. ....................................................65 Figure 2.6. West Profile of Unit 11....................................................................................66 Figure 2.7. Photograph of Unit 11 at the top of Level 5....................................................67 Figure 2.8. Cast Lead Carousel Horse. ..............................................................................71 Figure 2.9. Composite-molded, hollow rubber “bouncy” ball...........................................77 Figure 2.10. East profile of Unit 12. ..................................................................................80 Figure 2.11. Planview map of Unit 12 at the top of Level 6..............................................81 Figure 2.12. Photograph of southwest corner of Unit 12...................................................81

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Figure 2.13. Photograph of southeast view of Unit 12. .....................................................83 Figure 2.14. Planview of Unit 12 at the top of Level 7. ....................................................84 Figure 2.15. Advertisement for the “Wizard” brass cuff-holder clip. ...............................89 Figure 2.16. Button with Oriental scene of French origins................................................89 Figure 2.17. Modified .22 caliber cartridge cases..............................................................90 Figure 2.18. Bottle of “White Life” brand skin lightener. .................................................92 Figure 2.19. Cast iron coin bank........................................................................................94 Figure 2.20. Food bottle assemblage from the lunch counter..........................................101 Figure 2.21. Decorative artifacts from the lunch counter deposit....................................105 Figure 2.22. Illustration of electrical wire from the lunch counter deposit. ....................107 Figure 2.23. Relative proportion of medium and large domestic mammal remains........110 Figure 2.24. Planview of Unit 13.................................................................................... 112 Figure 2.25. Planview of the privy...................................................................................117 Figure 2.26A. West profile drawing of the privy.............................................................118 Figure 2.26B. West profile photograph of the privy........................................................118 Figure 2.27. Possible door stop associated with the privy...............................................128 Figure 2.28. Advertisement for the Acme Royal Coal Cook stove. ................................130 Figure 2.29. Planview of the Feature 31C-Complex. ......................................................133 Figure 2.30A. West profile drawing of the Feature 31C-Complex. ................................134

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Figure 2.30B. West profile photograph of the Feature 31C-Complex. ...........................134 Figure 2.31. Mystery copper jewelery or household accessory fragment. ......................140 Figure 2.32. Planview of the Feature 34C-Complex. ......................................................153 Figure 2.33. West profile of the Feature 34C-Complex. .................................................154 Figure 2.34A. Planview drawing of the Feature 49J-Complex. ......................................162 Figure 2.34B. Planview photograph of the Feature 49J-Complex...................................162 Figure 2.35. South profile of the Feature 49J-Complex. .................................................164 Figure 2.36. Cocked and loaded .22 caliber pistol...........................................................169 Figure 2.37. â&#x20AC;&#x153;American Federation of Laborâ&#x20AC;? celluloid pinback. .................................. 169 Figure 2.38. Beverage bottle assemblage from the Feature 49J-Complex. .....................175 Figure 2.39. Figurine from the Feature 49J-Complex. ....................................................177 Figure 2.40. Base of a Thomas-Houston incandescent light bulb. ..................................178 Figure 2.41. Detail from the 1919 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map of Columbia................179 Figure 2.42. 1969 Photograph of the backyard area. .......................................................180 Figure 2.43. Planview of the backyard outbuildings. ......................................................181 Figure 2.44. Sewerage pipes associated with 1904 Marion Street. .................................185 Figure 2.45. Termination point of 5-inch cast iron sewerage pipe. .................................186 Figure 2.46. Front yard row of bricks delineating a plant bed.........................................187 Figure 2.47. Backyard planting areas uncovered in Block 2. ..........................................189

Figure 2.48. Floor surface of the planing areas in Block 2..............................................190 Figure 2.51. Features in Block 2 associated with fences. ................................................195 Figure 3.1. Mann-Simons family tree. .............................................................................213 Figure 3.2. Photograph of Agnes Jackson. ..................................................................... 215 Figure 3.3. 1850 property map of Columbia....................................................................217 Figure 3.4. Photograph of Hattie Jackson........................................................................217 Figure 3.5. Photograph of John L. Simons, Jr. and William Simons...............................218 Figure 3.6. Photograph of Thomas Simons. ....................................................................218 Figure 3.7. Photographs of Charles H. Simons................................................................220 Figure 3.8. Photograph of Amanda Simons.................................................................... 220 Figure 3.9. 1869 property map of Columbia....................................................................221 Figure 3.10. 1872 bird's eye view map of Columbia. ......................................................222 Figure 3.11. 1969 photograph of the backyard area. .......................................................223 Figure 3.12. 1969 photograph of 1407 Richland Street...................................................223 Figure 3.13. 1969 photograph of 1904 Marion Street. ....................................................224 Figure 3.14. Evolution of 1904 Marion Street.................................................................224 Figure 3.15. Photograph of Celia Simons........................................................................225 Figure 3.16. Detail from 1904 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map of Columbia......................226 Figure 3.17. Photograph of Bernice Connors. .................................................................226

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Figure 3.18. Detail from 1910 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map of Columbia......................227 Figure 3.19. Detail from 1919 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map of Columbia......................228 Figure 3.20. Circa 1960s photograph of the back of 1403 Richland Street.....................232 Figure 3.21. 1969 photograph of the Mann-Simons properties. ......................................233 Figure 3.22. 1974 photograph of 1403 Richland Street during renovation. ....................234 Figure 3.23. Photograph of 1403 Richland Street today as a house museum..................235 Figure 4.1. United States commodity flow map. .............................................................246 Figure 4.2. 1887 map of CP and UP rail lines. ................................................................253 Figure 4.3. 1918 map of US rail lines..............................................................................254 Figure 4.4. Circa 1910 photograph of bare light bulb in room. .......................................270 Figure 4.5. Illustration of a â&#x20AC;&#x153;modernâ&#x20AC;? bathroom. ............................................................272 Figure 4.6. Planview photograph of wastewater lines at Mann-Simons..........................282 Figure 4.7. Planview of Feature 29E. ..............................................................................286 Figure 5.1. Circa 1888 advertisement for Rising Sun Stove Polish.................................313 Figure 5.2. Circa 1900 placement card. ...........................................................................315 Figure 5.3. Circa late 1960s photograph of 1923 Pickens Street.....................................338 Figure 5.4. Pharmaceutical bottles over time...................................................................346 Figure 5.5. Pharmaceutical versus alcohol bottles over time...........................................348 Figure 5.6. Ammunition use over time. ...........................................................................350

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Figure 5.7. Planview map of pet burials. .........................................................................353 Figure 5.8. Photograph of dog burial. ..............................................................................354 Figure 6.1. Circa 1980s photograph of the â&#x20AC;&#x153;originalâ&#x20AC;? house. ..........................................370 Figure 6.2. 1974 photograph of the 1403 Richland Street house during renovation. ......371 Figure C.1. Standard Retail Beef Cuts.............................................................................441 Figure C.2. Standard Retail Pork Cuts.............................................................................441 Figure C.3. Standard Retail Mutton Cuts.........................................................................441

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CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION Windows watched us Fancy lace curtains blinking At our calicos, thinking What's going on? Those windows watched The store too, watched The boys out back share A bottle, watched Women with babies On their hips walk Out with fat back slabs And corn, those dolled up curtains seemed to cringe To see us stitching in the backyard We tried to pay them no mind Mama always told us, “This land is ours, much as land can be. Them windows can watch All they like, but it isn't gonna change the view” That made us open up wide with joy We laughed so hard into those windows They could've shattered right then, And just kept on stitching —R. Heath, The Neighbors (2006)

On the northeast corner of Richland and Marion Streets, in downtown Columbia, South Carolina, sits a furnished house surrounded by a white picket fence. No one lives there. Tourists take guided tours of the house; neighborhood residents take advantage of the green space behind (Figure 1-1). The Columbia Official Visitors Guide lists the house as one of the top-ten things to do while visiting Columbia. Few neighborhood residents

Figure 1-1. 1403 Richland Street today, looking south at the back of the house. have ever been inside. Most locals know the house has something to do with African Americans, but few can recount more than the one-line history that has become the meaning of, and reason for, this house museum: “Formerly owned by Celia Mann in 1850, this house marked the beginning of her life after she bought her freedom in Charleston and walked to sovereignty” (Columbia Visitors Bureau 2009:54). Yet the house and yard and former occupants have the potential to tell a rich and nuanced story of the turn-of-the-twentieth century, a pivotal period in American history that laid the foundation for our commodity-centric society today. This dissertation is based on archaeology conducted at the Mann-Simons site. During excavation, passers-by would often ask, ‘Why archaeology?’ After all, documents tell us about late nineteenth and early twentieth century America in great

detail—the struggles of labor unions, the development of national advertising and brand names, the advent and availability of home electricity and telephones, Jim Crow legislation and political exclusion, the growth of urban centers. And documents tell us much about the family who lived at the site. We know Ben DeLane was a slave in Charleston, born 1800, and moved to Columbia. He bought the property that would become the Mann-Simons by 1843. His wife, Celia Mann, born into slavery in Charleston in 1799, would join Ben DeLane by 1837. We know Celia passed away in 1867, that she helped found the Calvary Baptist Church in Columbia, that three of her four daughters moved to Boston and “crossed the color line,” and her remaining daughter, Agnes Jackson, inherited the house and property. Documents tell us that Agnes’s children were active church members, Freemasons, and apprenticed in the tailoring trade. They ran a grocery store, a lunch counter, bought and sold and rented houses and properties, and their descendants remained at the house until 1970. But only archaeology reveals the day-to-day lives of the family: what they ate, bought, made, fixed, how they dressed, the scale of their business pursuits, what they served at the lunch counter, and how this material world changed over time. Archaeology and documents together afford us an opportunity to ask not only how their material world changed in tandem with local and national societal changes, but also what these changes might have meant for the family and what these changes might tell us about our world today. As the title suggests, this is a story of commodities—a story told from the perspective of the Mann-Simons family. Commodities are objects both cultural and political, and their analysis tells us much of who we are and from where we came. The story begins with turn-of-the-twentieth century American advertising and ends with the

manufacturing of history. Between the beginning and end is a topographical map of sorts, delineating the contours of early twentieth century American society through a lens of commodities production and consumption. “A commodity appears at first sight an extremely obvious, trivial thing,” writes Marx in 1867, “but its analysis brings out that it is a very strange thing” (1976:163). Indeed. To understand just how non-trivial a role the commodity plays in society, and why its analysis is important, one need only examine what Richard Marchand (1985) describes as “the parable of the Democracy of Goods.” Beginning at the close of the nineteenth century and reaching its height during the Great Depression of the early 1930s, American advertisers routinely played on the idea of a Democracy of Goods to sell everything from soap to vacuums to tires. The message of the parable was simple: there is a social hierarchy, and wealth is concentrated at the top, but the humble, average (always middle-class) citizen can still purchase the same everyday things the millionaire does (Figure 1-2). A Democracy of Goods encouraged Americans to look to similarities in material consumption rather than political power or control of production and wealth

Figure 1-2. Advertisement for Pond's. Even during the depression, advertisers reminded consumers that everyday commodities like soap united the person of modest means with the aristocrat (author’s collection). 4

for evidence of equality. Edward Filene, a spokesperson for manufacturers during the 1920s and 1930s, went so far as to argue that commodities could unify the nation and limit social changes to changes in the goods that industry produced (Beder 2004). This dissertation is about the real and imagined Democracy of Goods that developed in America during the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. It is about everyday, often overlooked, and rarely thought of objects; how they are related, and how they came to be with us in the forms they did. It is about the roles of these objects in dayto-day life and everyday routines, and the processes by which these objects and routines co-evolved. It is also about one family, their possessions, and the local, regional and national social environment within which they made their lives. Finally, this dissertation is about us, and some of the ways in which we invest the past with meaning.

THINKING ABOUT ORDINARY OBJECTS Since ‘ordinary objects’ and ‘commodities’ are terms that figure large in this study, it is well to explain at the outset why they deserve such attention. It may seem a little odd to begin by arguing a need to focus on ordinary objects, since most of the time archaeologists have little option but to be interested in the objects of everyday life. It is the ‘stuff’ of the everyday that people lose, break, and throw-away, and it is through these actions archaeologists have something to dig-up and analyze. Anthropologists concerned with ‘things’ have long understood that things have social lives and social lives have things (Appadurai 1986), and archaeology is clearly a discipline of anthropology where ‘stuff matters.’ But strangely, for a discipline that consists of being occupied with the material world, historical archaeology seems to be dominated by thinking that is the

counterpart of materialism. When historical archaeologists discuss the objects of nineteenth and twentieth century America, they almost always talk about them in terms of meanings or styles. The actual ‘thing’ is nearly irrelevant—one object could be replaced by any other object, as long as it has the same sign-value. This is not to deny the importance of understanding the nonmaterial, semiotic character of objects – I take up a related analysis in Chapter 4 – but instead to highlight a gap in the literature. I develop this idea further in the next section, but for now it is enough to suggest that what is missing in archaeologies of the recent past is an understanding of objects as required material entities that enable, inhibit, and give shape to the practices and routines around them.

CONSUMERISM TO CONSUMER CULTURE The everyday objects of the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries are overwhelmingly commodities. But understanding what commodities are and how they relate to practices and routines first requires a brief understanding of how commodities came to dominate the everyday. This requires a trip back to the mid-nineteenth century. The years between the 1850s and 1870s mark the establishment of our modern geographic pattern of industrialization and urbanization (Slater 1997). Within this context, consumerism – the buying of objects produced for market – develops and moves in two opposing directions. On one hand, consumerism emerges from a world of urban experience, object display, and public spectacle. Iconic of this trajectory of development are world exhibitions, spreading and publicizing the emerging world of commodities. Although elements of consumerism go back centuries (Campbell 1987), the 1851 London world 6

exhibition – the first such world event – is cited often, and justifiably so, as a useful date for marking the birth of full-scale consumerism. Walter Benjamin (2002:7) writes, world exhibitions “are places of pilgrimage to the commodity fetish.” These events “glorify the exchange value of the commodity. They create a framework in which its use value becomes secondary.” But an often overlooked and far less flashy development of the mid-nineteenth century deserves as much credit as world exhibitions: the use of cast iron as a structural building element. With cast iron, “for the first time in the history of architecture, an artificial building material appears” (Benjamin 2002:4). Iron construction began in Paris and directly allowed for the development and form of shopping arcades: two or more levels of shops and stores arranged side-by-side along both sides of a narrow alley through the center of a block topped with great panes of glass. Arcades allow for the specialty form of both commodity and outlet, and functioned as public settings for transitory social encounters between individuals, as well as individuals and distant peoples and places and ideas via the commodified object—be it food, daguerreotype, or exotic curio (Benjamin 2002). Arcades exist because of the iron girder. It seems only fitting that the arena for mass consumerism should itself depend on the emergence of a new technology. On the other hand, and in tandem with urban experience and spectacle, consumerism emerges from its increasing connection to the public image and ideal of respectable, private, middle-class domesticity, most often presented not in terms of objects, but of time, leisure, and morality in the public sphere (Slater 1997). As Katherine Grier (1988:8) has suggested, “The increasing emphasis on the positive influence of rooms [in the home] and personal possessions on character had the effect of

tying the formation of character to correct habits of consumption.” In other words, the mass commercialization of objects invited broad participation in already established cultural conceptions of proper family life and domesticity. Both of these trajectories, from window shopping along the arcade to domestic interiors and family values, place mid-nineteenth century consumerism as public. The mid-nineteenth century witnessed the establishment of consumerism, but the period 1880 to 1930 witnessed the birth of a culture of consumption. The features of modern consumer culture take their form during this period: mass manufacture, the spreading of markets through new infrastructures, the rationalization of production (think Henry Ford), the integration of markets through new forms of marketing (brand names, individual packaging, advertising), and the standardization of product form and content (Strasser 1989). But more importantly, during this period a norm emerges concerning how commodities are to be produced, sold, and integrated into everyday life, eventually becoming the dominant mode of cultural reproduction (Slater 1997). It is this normalization of material consumption – reflecting and structuring publicly-shared expectations of standards and ways of living attainable through commodities (Mullins 1999) – and an increasing reliance on objects produced by others (Miller 1987) that most differentiates consumer culture from mid-nineteenth century consumerism. Commodities are now “sold to a population which is increasingly seen as consumers: they are not seen as classes or genders who consume, but rather as consumers who happen to be organized into classes and genders” (Slater 1997:14). By the early twentieth century, commodities had become the vehicle to modernity.

Commodities connect people, but as the following chapters make clear, a thorough understanding of how commodities connect people demands a materialist commitment to the concerns of situated meaning making as well as historically-informed political economy (Hartwick 2000; Mintz 1986). Most importantly, the study of commodities makes the material central to the social, as Don Slater (1997:3) explains:

The great issue about consumer culture is the way it connects central questions about how we should or want to live with questions about how society is organized – and does so at the level of everyday life…. The most trivial objects of consumption both make up the fabric of our meaningful life and connect this intimate and mundane world to great fields of social contestation. In the very process of helping to constitute private life, consumer culture has tied the intimate world inextricably to the public, the social, the macro…. ‘Consumer culture’ is therefore a story of struggles for the soul of everyday life, of battles to control the texture of the quotidian.

The American South at the turn-of-the-twentieth century offers a striking example of these “struggles for the soul of everyday life.” The culture of segregation that developed in the South, both the legal structure and etiquette of Jim Crow – what historian Robert Weems (1998) has called ‘American apartheid’ – following the collapse of reconstruction, is largely due to two intertwined developments: the nation-wide growth of consumer culture and the emergence of a publicly-visible African American middle-class (Mullins 1999). As Elizabeth Grace Hale (1998:123) explains, “the multiplying spaces of consumption within the growing towns and cities of the… South became key sites for the white Southern creation of and African American resistance to the culture of segregation.” The South’s reaction to the mass-production and wide-spread availability of everyday commodities at the turn-of-the-twentieth century – from breakfast cereals,

hygiene products and dishes, to clothing and home furnishings – was the creation of a new system of structural discrimination and violence. The South has always been, and continues to be, a ‘culture of difference’—black v. white, working class v. upper class, North v. South, rich v. poor, resident v. migrant (Joseph 1993). This culture of difference is seen in the most unexpected places. The structure of the Columbia City Directories between 1875 and 1930 is a surprising example. Early directories list all individuals together in alphabetical order, with a small ‘c’ (“colored”) or ‘w’ (“white”) in parentheses following the name. By the late nineteenth century, the directories contain separate sections for “colored” and “white” individuals. In the early twentieth century, “colored” people are listed on colored paper (orange or pink) and “white” people on white paper. Even the quality of the colored paper decreases over time while the white paper stays the same. Like Jim Crow segregation, this pattern of materialized categorical difference occurred in step with the growth of consumer culture and the emergence of a publicly-visible African American middle-class. Given that city directories were produced by national firms located in distant states (in this case, Richmond, Virginia), the question is begged: who decided who was “white” and who was “colored” in each locality? Could directories have been used as a tactic to circumvent disenfranchising strategies through passing? Did categorical inclusion change over time? Unfortunately, no answers are readily available. This culture of difference evident in city directories and manifested broadly as Jim Crow segregation at the turn-of-the-twentieth century became the central structuring feature of the social context within which the Mann-Simons family enacted their daily lives—a family who became a part of Columbia’s African American middle-class

through their ownership of multiple properties, efficient participation in small business, manners of dress, and increasingly visible access to the world of consumer goods. In the rest of this chapter, I outline an approach to using commodities as entry points into the everyday lives of the Mann-Simons family at the turn-of-the-twentieth century. In outlining my approach to the past via the material, I explore how the everyday intersects with broad social processes to structure the form and availability of ordinary objects and how these interactions mediate practices and routines. I conclude with a discussion of interpretation as story-telling.

TOWARD AN UNDERSTANDING OF ORDINARY OBJECTS This dissertation has three related ambitions. First is to recover and illuminate the roles of ordinary objects â&#x20AC;&#x201C; commodities â&#x20AC;&#x201C; in the routines of daily life. To understand the roles objects play, I explore connections between objects and routines in three socialmaterial contexts: production, consumption, and heritage. By considering, in turn, the same set of archaeologically-recovered objects from three distinct vantage points, collectively they provide insights into the dynamic interaction between objects, routines, and discourses at myriad scales. The result is two-fold: first is an understanding of how objects and routines co-evolved during the late nineteenth and early twentieth century at the household level and second, how discourses beyond the site-level structured the availability and form of these objects. Understanding these dual processes reveals much about general cycles of production, consumption and the making of heritage via the material past. Second, I aim to tell a story of the past that tells us something of the present. Although I write of the Mann-Simons family in Columbia at the turn-of-the-

twentieth century in the chapters that follow, my analytical focus is on process. It is through an understanding of changing social processes that we can understand how, as a society, we got from ‘there’ to ‘here.’ Understanding this trajectory gives the past relevance beyond what Donna Haraway (1998) describes as a disembodied gaze back to a distant ‘Other.’ The third ambition of this dissertation is to explore the relations between objects, routines, and discourses by pulling threads of different disciplinary approaches together in new combinations. My goal here is not the development of a grand theory proclaiming to unite the social sciences. Instead, my goal is the more modest one of using the resources of anthropology, history, geography, industrial design, material culture studies, and philosophies of technology to understand production, consumption and heritage at one archaeological site in ways that might suggest trends beyond the site. Each of these disciplines is concerned with objects-in-context, and each has something to contribute to our understanding of people and things from their own unique perspective. Ordinary objects, especially commodities, are a subject that archaeology has something to offer its parent discipline anthropology as well as neighboring disciplines, and a subject from which it has much to learn from these other disciplines, as Appadurai noted for anthropology more than twenty years ago (1986:5).

ORIENTATION – APPROACH – FRAMEWORK Archaeologists unearth the static present to understand past social dynamics. But how is this accomplished when the only thing static about the present – the space of meaning-making – is the artifacts? The answer is to understand three dimensions of theory: orientation, approach, and framework. Where theoretical orientation is akin to philosophy – generalized ways of seeing the world – theoretical approaches are more 12

specific and relate directly to analysis and problem solving. In other words, orientations highlight particular social-material relationships while approaches attempt to answer the “why” and “how” questions generated by particular relationships. In archaeology, these questions are most often suggested by observations from material remains, but can come from any source. Theoretical frameworks structure investigation and presentation in terms of linking answers suggested by approach within a given orientation as well as understanding how different kinds of knowledge fit together. Of course, in practice these three dimensions are interrelated and work together, but thinking of them as separate spheres is useful for understanding how to move back-and-forth between the general and specific and how the material and non-material are related. Although I present theory here as fairly abstract and academic, I agree with Ann Kingsolver (2001:4) that theory is really “the stories we tell ourselves to make sense of life and to determine where we are as we navigate social space.” I hope to show in the chapters that follow that abstract theory is common-place when looked at from the vantage point of the everyday. My theoretical orientation fits loosely within three broad traditions: materialism, political economy, and phenomenology. At its most general, materialism is a way of thinking which recognizes that the physical world shapes perceived reality and that the specific properties of this materiality influence interactions between people. Political economy views localized social, political, and economic processes as taking place within larger, global-historical frameworks that transcend these localized contexts (Mintz 1985; Roseberry 1988). In other words, political economy attends to structures of power and “real people doing real things” at the point of intersection between local social-material interactions and broad social processes (Roseberry 1988:163). Understanding human

experience is the realm of phenomenology. The central idea of phenomenology, Verbeek (2006:53) explains,

is that subject and object –or: humans and their world – constitute each other in the relationships that exist between them. Humans and their world are always interrelated. Human beings cannot but be directed at the world around them; they are always experiencing it, and it is the only place where they can live their lives.

Moving beyond the classical phenomenology of Husserl and Heidegger, Don Ihde (2003) outlines a pragmatic, non-subjectivist, (post)phenomenology centered on the structuring of human-world possibilities. Complementary to the work of Bruno Latour and Verbeek (both of whom I discuss in the following section), Ihde’s program recognizes, on the one hand, the mutual construction of materiality and human experience (i.e. ‘I shape things and things shape me’), and on the other, that different materialities generate different non-neutral relations between people and between people and things. Combined, these orientations attend to both the structuring attributes of social life as well as how social life is experienced, each recognizing the centrality of the material world. How does one actually do archaeology from a materialist, or political economic, or (post)phenomenological orientation? All three emphasize the importance of the material world for understanding social relations, but none suggest (in the way I framed them) that the material world is merely a reflection of the social. Instead, individual experiences, social structures, and the material world mutually construct each other. To understand structures of power is to understand how individuals experience their world socially and materially. Likewise, to understand the form and diversity of the material world at a particular time and place is to understand structures of power and lived

experience. But just understanding the types of relationships favored by these orientations is not enough. Two fundamental problems must be addressed in any study proclaiming to clarify the relationship between people and things and understand how the past is invested with meaning. The first relates to theoretical approach: how do you link recovered artifacts – fragments of, in most cases, garbage – to people’s lives in a meaningful way that illuminates not only past ways of life and ways of doing things in relation to the material world but also illuminates common social processes in operation then and now? In other words, how do you relate common, everyday things like dishes and tin cans and buttons to the non-material social at different scales? The second problem, which relates to theoretical framework, is: how do you tell a story of the past? After all, as Walter Taylor (1948) makes clear, the past is, in a very real way, neither directly knowable nor verifiable. Although the solutions I present to these problems are framed in terms of commodities and archaeology and the Mann-Simons site, they have general application beyond the narrow themes of this study. Linking materiality to social processes – our first problem – is the ‘stuff’ of archaeological inquiry, but it is also (although certainly not always) the ‘stuff’ of geographers, cultural anthropologists, and technology theorists. Bringing together strands of thought from these groups of scholars gives us a two-pronged approach to interpreting material remains that attends to the semiotic attributes of people-object relationships as well as the ways in which these objects are implicated in the routines of daily life. The first prong is discourse materialized; a ‘top-down’ approach that understands objects, assemblages, and landscapes as the materialization of intersecting

discourses. The second prong is object mediation; a ‘bottom-up’ approach that understands objects not as indicators or signifiers of something beyond the object, which is what discourse materialized does, but instead manifestations of possible behaviors and mediators of practice. In both cases, these approaches are grounded in the material and, as will be shown in the chapters that follow, speak to the knowledge making of commodities production and consumption and how these knowledges relates to the everyday.

DISCOURSE MATERIALIZED ATERIALIZED The first side of our two-pronged approach to interpreting the Mann-Simons site comes from landscape geography and is based on the idea of ‘discourse materialized’ developed by Richard Schein (1997). Interested in the historical emergence of ordinary, everyday built environments in the United States – in essence, our backyards (this is both figurative and literal—in 2006 he published an article on the geography of his own yard) – Schein approached landscapes as the material expressions of countless individual practices that together “create, alter, and maintain landscapes, their meaning, and their symbolism” (1997:663). Although these practices often seem to be the product of independent decisions, each is rooted within a larger discourse. Thus, “when action results in a tangible landscape element, or total ensemble, the cultural landscape becomes the discourse materialized” (1997:663, emphasis in original). Before discussing the application of discourse materialized to the study of commodities, it might be useful to step back and see how Schein’s approach fits within Henri Lefebvre’s theorization of space.

In The Production of Space (1974), Lefebvre aims to integrate ‘mental space’ – how space is conceived and constructed through discourse and representation – into its social, physical, and temporal contexts. For Lefebvre, space is both a social process and product, dialectically related, where space shapes and is shaped by larger social forces in a complex and often-contradictory way. The production of space includes all those social and material elements that come together to create a landscape. Seen this way, landscape is an on-going process grounded in history, but “is always, now and formerly, a present space” (1974:37, emphasis in original). Lefebvre constructs a conceptual triad for understanding the relationship between the process and product of space consisting of spatial practice, representations of space, and representational space. The terms are awkward but the concepts useful. For Lefebvre, spatial practice is the perceived, a social competency arising from the intersection of material and social relations and understandings at specific locations. Spatial practice is complementary to Bourdieu’s (1990) combined ideas of habitus and practice. Representations of space are the conceived—essentially ideologies and discourses laced with social understanding (e.g., knowledge and power), fitting well with the aims of political economy. Representational space is the experienced, individually appropriated space, “directly lived through its associated images and symbols, and hence the space of ‘inhabitants’ and ‘users’” (1974:39). This is a phenomenological space. Since landscapes, and elements within landscapes, are discourses in material form, Schein’s discourse materialized is a specific expression of Lefebvre’s ‘representations of space.’

Discourse is a polysemic term often used but rarely defined. My use of discourse follows that of Sara Mills (2005:15), who explains,

a discourse is something which produces something else (an utterance, a concept, an effect), rather than something which exists in and of itself and which can be analyzed in isolation. A discursive structure can be detected because of the systematicity of the ideas, opinions, concepts, ways of thinking and behaving which are formed within a particular context, and because of the effects of those ways of thinking and behaving.

Racism, historic preservation, and architectural practices are examples of discursive structuresâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;groupings of sanctioned statements that strongly influence the ways in which people think and behave. Thus, a discourse materialized approach to materiality â&#x20AC;&#x201C; the full suite of what people have and enact their lives through, and what we as archaeologists have to dig up â&#x20AC;&#x201C; sees patterns in materiality as arising from competing and conflicting social discourses enacted by individual actors within specific material and social contexts that were themselves generated by various discourses enacted within specific historical-social-material contexts. To illustrate, we can look at a simple example of a commonplace object that is rarely thought of: the street curb. The function of a street curb is simple. It is designed to function as a means for channeling water into drain pipes. The goal is to prevent water from building up on street surfaces and keep it from flowing onto sidewalks and yards and other spaces adjacent to streets. From a functionalist perspective, this is the end of the story. But from a discourse materialized perspective, there is more. The connection between street curbs and drainage systems is a twentieth century phenomenon, developed in response to the advent of bacteriology and changing ideas of illness and sanitation during the late-nineteenth century. As Martin Melosi (2000) in The Sanitary City

explains, the progressive reform movement at the turn-of-the-twentieth century, which called for pure water and efficient waste disposal services, among other things, employed the findings of bacteriologists in their quest to impose a “civilizing influence” on urbanites. Once implemented, debate ensued over public (municipal) versus private operation of these new sanitary systems, debates which were part of larger ideas on the role of government and business. Understanding the street curb is thus more than understanding its functionality; it is understanding the discourses surrounding how and why the curb happens to exist in that particular form, at that particular place, during that particular time. The street curb is the materialization of all these intersecting discourses. Although discourse materialized was developed in geography to understand better the form and historical trajectory of landscapes, it need not be limited to landscapes per se. For historical archaeology, discourse materialized is most usefully thought of as an interface theory, a method for linking patterns of artifacts and features with generalized theoretical explanations within temporal and spatial contexts. This is not a new idea. I suggest that discourse materialized is analogous to middle-range theory; an approach more sensitive to available data from the recent past, but nonetheless functionally similar in terms of interpretive approach. Most simply, middle range theory links observations of the static present – in our case, archaeological data – to general statements of past social dynamics—what we are after (Johnson 2003:50; Trigger 2002:362). Discourse materialized does the same, but instead of using ethnographic regularities to explain the past, as is the case with Binford’s (1982) use of middle range theory, or the documentary record, as is the case with Leone’s (1987) use, discourse materialized uses related groupings of statements – discourses – formed within particular historical contexts. The

function is the same. Although my use of landscape is a departure from the way geographers conceptualize landscape, the following chapters make clear that landscape is a very useful metaphor for understanding assemblages of material objects, such as tablewares or childrenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s toys, by maintaining the fluidity of scale. Discourse materialized also shares similarities with another familiar approach in historical archaeology. One of the most influential scholars in historical archaeology was James Deetz (1996), who demonstrated that patterns of change observed in seemingly unrelated classes of artifacts in eighteenth century America were actually manifestations of a Georgian worldview that structured the organization of the everyday. The main difference between relating the shift from collective to individual table settings, architectural styles emphasizing symmetry and segregated spaces, and stylistic changes in gravestones to a Georgian worldview and understanding these changes as discourse materialized is the ability to account for change. Instead of a dominant ideology structuring how the physical world should be organized, discourse materialized sees multiple, sometimes conflicting, discourses at different scales and in different localities competing for expression. As discourses change over time, so do their material expressions, but unlike the worldview perspective, no one discourse structures everything. A common concern for historical archaeologists is the relationships between archaeological, documentary, and oral historical dataâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;different sorts of data produced through different formation processes. Barbara Little (1992) outlines how historical archaeologists have approached the relationship between documentary and archaeological data as interdependent and complementary, or as independent and contradictory, while

Robert Schuyler (1978) suggests texts should be sorted according to their etic and emic views, with more interpretive ‘weight,’ and hence correlation with archaeological findings, given to emic texts. But, by understanding these different types of data as materializations of intersecting discourses, this relational concern is largely sidestepped. The pattern of social categorization within the structure of Columbia city directories discussed earlier is an example of how, in this case, discourses of racial discrimination became materialized as document—the same discourses implicated in architectures of segregation (Weyeneth 2005), widespread ordering from Sears, Roebuck Co. by African Americans as a way of circumventing local retailer discrimination (Mullins 1999), Disney’s production of the 1946 movie Song of the South, and collections of oral histories like Remembering Jim Crow (Chafe, et al. 2001). Each of these material products was partially structured by racial discourses in different forms at different scales. Thus, a discourse materialized approach to different kinds of data sees the privileging of one type of data over another as the result of differential preservation and the necessary limits imposed by research (time, money, access to resources, etc.). Our interpretations stay focused on social processes – the point of doing archaeology – with no reduction in the complimentary and contradictory, interdependent and independent nature of our data. Discourse materialized allows for viewing sites, as well as materials within and beyond sites – from artifact assemblages to documents to commodity chains – simultaneously as material objects grounded in history and as material entry points into discourses surrounding their existence, both in object form and their occurrence at a particular time and place independent of scale. Although this is a versatile and useful

tool for understanding connections between people and things and how they came about, it does have its limits: it privileges the sign-value of the thing over the materiality of the thing itself. Objects are essentially signifiers of discourses beyond the object. We thus need an additional concept to clarify the relation between people and things that does not bias the non-material in understanding their roles in people’s lives. For that, we turn to technology studies.

OBJECT MEDIATION Questions about how objects enable and shape the practices of daily life are central themes in the field of technology studies. Here, I outline an approach to ordinary objects that does justice to, borrowing Verbeek's phrase, the ‘thing-ly nature of things' by taking up concepts provided by several technology scholars, principally Don Ihde, PeterPaul Verbeek, Bruno Latour, and Elizabeth Shove. Together, these scholars provide a vocabulary for what Verbeek calls (2005:8,234) “forward thinking,” that is, starting from the objects themselves and asking what roles they play in our daily lives, as opposed to “backward thinking,” that is, starting with what people do and asking what objects are involved. A good place to start is with Bruno Latour (1992) and his concept of hybridity. And a good place to start understanding hybridity – the idea of a combined humannonhuman entity (but nothing as fancy as a cyborg) – is with an example from Shove and her colleagues (2007:7):

To illustrate this concept at its most basic, we might consider the combination of a person and a stick. With stick in hand, the person is transformed into a 'new' hybrid entity – part stick, part human – that can do more than a person or a stick

alone. With a lever and a place to stand, much can be achieved. A stick does not have the agency to lever or to hit in and of itself; to do so it needs something – most likely human – to wield it with force and purpose. Even so, recognizing the relational agency of the stick-person hybrid breaks the convention of supposing that agency is a uniquely human quality: after all, people without sticks are generally less effective at levering or hitting than those who are so equipped.

A person and an object together become more than, and something different from, the person or object alone, at least in terms of being able to enact a desired outcome. Examples abound: a person-hammer hybrid (I can hit things with greater force); a persontelescope hybrid (I can see things further away); a person-reading glasses hybrid (I can see text near me). This is how Latour (1992:4), when looking at social life, “see[s] actors – some human, some non-human, some skilled, some unskilled – that exchange their properties.” This simple shift in thinking has, for our purposes, two important consequences. First, it shifts analytical focus away from people and things as discrete entities and toward the relationship between people and things, much in the same way a focus on exchange potential shifted the focus for commodities. Second, it recognizes how competency (or skill) is distributed to varying degrees between people and things. Distributed competency is what Shove and her colleagues referred to as 'relational agency' in their person-stick example. A further example will help clarify. Suppose I want to cut a sheet of plywood lengthwise at a 45-degree angle. Since I have no carpentry skills, using a hand saw, the angle of the cut will be uneven and the line of the cut will be far from straight. But, using a table saw, I can produce a perfect 45-degree angle along the entire cut-line. A skilled woodworker, on the other hand, could cut the desired 45-degree angle using a hand saw. For both the 'unskilled person-table saw hybrid' and the 'skilled person-hand saw hybrid,' the outcome is the same. The difference between the two is how competency is

distributed; in the first case, more competency is embedded within the table saw, whereas in the second case, more competency is found in the person. Viewing people-thing relationships in terms of hybridity or distributed competency is thus a convenient way for understanding how different social and practical arrangements are made possible by interacting with different objects and assemblages of objects. One result of this shifting of competencies brought about by the innovation and introduction of new objects into everyday life is changes in the distribution and delegation of the roles and functions for people and objects (Shove, et al. 2007). Just thinking of the introduction of new domestic appliances â&#x20AC;&#x201C; refrigerators, gas and electric stoves, washing machines, television sets â&#x20AC;&#x201C; illustrates the impact the introduction of new objects into everyday life has on daily routines, expectations, and the importance or value placed on different types of human competency. But as useful a concept as hybridity/distributed competency is for understanding how different combinations of people and things make possible different routines, and as grounded in the material world as these insights are, there is still one aspect of the people-thing relationship that must be addressedâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;how objects mediate practice. First we need to take a step back and examine how objects function in terms of semiotics. Vebreek (2005) distinguishes two types of semiotic functions for objects. The first is 'connotative function,' where objects indicate or refer to something independently of the object itself via signs and social 'codes.' Connotative functioning is the 'stuff' of most identity studies in archaeology. Paul Mullins (1999), for instance, in his study of African American consumerism in Maryland, investigates the connotative function of bric-a-brac and shows that the same inexpensive, commonplace objects were associated

with different meanings based on an individual's 'place' within racial categories at the turn-of-the-twentieth century. The second type of semiotic function is 'denotative function,' which refers to “what and how [objects] are to be used. Thus a chair refers to the possibility of sitting, at least in a context in which objects with that kind of shape are used for that kind of purpose.... Denotative functions communicate an intended or expected kind of interaction” (Vebreek 2005:205). Denotative functioning is similar to the first part of Latour's (1992) idea of 'scripting,' where objects encourage certain types of behaviors and discourage other types based on their physical properties within a given context of use (the second part being their connotative function). Latour provides the example of a speed bump. The speed bump script is clear: slow down, or damage your struts. In other words, objects are able to shape ('script') particular behaviors or ways of doing things, although there is no guarantee objects will be, or even need to be, used in these ways. Hybridity, distributed competency and scripting, as framed by Latour and Shove, thus work to understand the contextually-specific denotative functions of objects in relation to people. Ihde and Verbeek's independent but highly complementary work on object mediation, discussed next, when combined with Latour and Shove's work, provide a basis for interpreting the Mann-Simons site from the bottom-up. Mediation, unlike hybridity, distributed competency, and scripting, cannot be thought of just in terms of an object's function (connotative or denotative), but as a byproduct of its functionality. “Mediation,” writes Vebreek (2005:208), “concerns the ways in which products function as material objects, not the ways they serve as signs.” This is not to say that objects do not mediate as connotative and denotative carriers of meaning – Latour clearly demonstrates they do

– but instead to suggest that “what things 'do' encompasses more than merely 'referring' or 'functioning.' Things mediate the relation between human beings and their world... in a material way” (Vebreek 2005:209). We can illustrate what Vebreek means by recalling the example of the street curb from the previous section. As an example of materialized discourse – our top-down approach – we understood the street curb as an artifact of discourses of health and sanitation, which allowed for understanding how and why that particular object came about at that particular time in that particular form. However, in terms of mediation, the street curb, as a byproduct of its function, also acts as a discriminatory device—as anyone in a wheelchair could tell you. Discriminating against people in wheelchairs was not an intentional design attribute, nor a reason for its spread and continued use, but for wheelchair users, the street curb nonetheless mediates their relation to the world in such a way. Objects are not passive, neutral means of accomplishing tasks; practices are more than just action or behavior. Concepts of hybridity, competency, scripts, and mediation combine to form a basis for viewing practices and routines as both having and doing, and thus as a way for understanding the everyday lives of the Mann-Simons family from a materiallygrounded, bottom-up perspective. Combined with a discourse materialized, top-down perspective, these two approaches provide a method for understanding the structuring as well as experiential qualities of people-object relationships and commodity landscapes, in addition to viewing objects and assemblages of objects as things in-and-of themselves and carriers of immaterial meanings. Put another way, these two approaches do justice to the material and immaterial nature of ordinary objects.

The solution to the second problem – how to tell stories of Mann-Simons and social processes using the artifacts of day-to-day life in a way that applies equally well to an archaeological site as to my, or your, house – came to define not only the interpretive framework and structure of the dissertation, but ultimately how the entire project was approached. To which stories do artifacts speak and how do we tell these stories in a way that attends to the ‘situatedness’ of local, fragmented experience occurring within larger contexts? This dissertation is as much about the stories themselves (the “results” of investigation) as it is about the means of telling such stories. Story-telling is the subject of the next section.

THE STRUCTURE OF THE DISSERTATION The framework for telling stories of Mann-Simons is itself best introduced through stories. The first is called, “The Beholding Eye: Ten Versions of the Same Scene,” and was written by the geographer Don Meinig in 1979. In the story, Meinig takes 10 hypothetical people to a vantage point that overlooks some portion of a city and countryside and asks them what the landscape is composed of and something about its meaning. All 10 people agree what elements the landscape is composed of—the same number of houses, the direction of roads, clusters of trees, etc. But to have any meaning, for these elements to make sense, they must be fitted together through some coherent body of ideas. Here, there is no agreement. One viewer sees the landscape as wealth, assigning monetary values to properties and development potential within a market economy. Another viewer sees the landscape as history—a complex, interwoven collection of artifacts detailing people in one place over time. A third viewer sees the

landscape as problem—urban sprawl, congestion, poverty, segregation. Each of these views is different but each is equally “real” and taken together, they still do not tell the full meaning of this single scene. Every landscape – and our sites and homes and workplaces are as much landscapes as some grand vista – is composed of not just what lies before our eyes, but what lies in our heads. The second story is that of the elephant and the blind men. In this story (in the version I recall), four blind men are placed around an elephant and asked, what is an elephant? The first man, holding the elephant’s trunk in his hands, responds, ‘an elephant is like a big snake.’ ‘No,’ corrects the second man, touching the elephant’s side, ‘an elephant is a large, flat animal, like a barn.’ The third man, telling the first two they are both wrong, says, ‘yes, an elephant is like a snake, but it is a very small animal, with hair on its head.’ This third man was holding the elephant’s tail. ‘You are all wrong,’ says the fourth man, placing his arms around one of the elephant’s legs, ‘I have measured the elephant with my arms and it is obvious that an elephant is shaped like the trunk of a tree.’ Indeed, what is an elephant? None of the blind men are correct, but none of them are wrong either, given their unique perspective. All interpreters are story-tellers and the act of constructing these stories is an imaginative one—but not a make-believe one. Interpretations of the past are stories, often called ‘results,’ or ‘folk-lore,’ or ‘findings,’ or ‘traditions,’ or ‘memories,’ depending on who’s doing the interpreting and to what ends. Geertz (1973:326) writes of interpretations: they are “fictions: fictions, in the sense that they are ‘something made,’ ‘something fashioned’ – the original meaning of fictio – not that they are false, unfactual,

or merely ‘as if’ thought experiments.” To paraphrase Margery Wolf (1992), we do not present a ‘truth,’ but instead, we construct a ‘less-false’ reality. Composed of partial, fragmented, multiple truths, these two stories present a framework for constructing historical knowledge. The idea that ‘the past’ is composed of multiple, fragmented histories viewed from situated vantage points moves interpretation away from a singular, linear chronology of events toward a multi-layered history with parallel, sometimes competing, truths. This postmodern framework provides an effective way of avoiding the trap of ‘what really happened,’ particularly by people in a position to tell the story. Parallel histories blur the artificial divide between conceptions of the ‘past’ and ‘present’ by focusing, in this case, on a single politically-defined unit of space – a rectangle formed by property boundaries that is the same size today as it was when Ben DeLane, after purchasing his freedom in Charleston, bought the property in 1825 – and the ways in which people have always created meaning through this place. It follows that this project is simply the most recent chapter in the story of this urban lot. In the chapters that follow, I tell three stories of Mann-Simons from Meinig’s hypothetical vantage point, offering situated views of the blind men’s elephant. But I did not set out to structure the dissertation, or the project, this way. Only by working outside on a downtown street corner heavy with pedestrian traffic off-and-on for two years and talking with more people than I could possibly count did I come to realize, midway through fieldwork, that meaning- and place-making materialize not only in organized site tours, self-selected visitors, or placards, but in conversations with neighborhood residents and populations rarely included in formal outreach efforts.

By virtue of where the site is located, I was probably exposed to a more representative sample of Columbia’s population than most projects allow. Since I did not want anything specific from visitors, but always enjoyed talking about the site, the conversations were largely agenda-free—friendly exchanges as I became more-and-more a neighborhood fixture. These interactions caused me to reconsider the publicarchaeologist relationship and the processes by which meaningful history is produced and for whom. In Chapter 6, I explore these interactions in more depth, but for now, they allowed me to concentrate on three coherent bodies of ideas – three versions of this one scene – that at one time united particular elements to create meaningful landscapes, while other people in different contexts, both at and through the site, present their versions of social life in ways relevant to their own ideas of heritage. Each of the following stories can stand on their own, but taken together, they take the reader on a journey through some of the objects, processes, discourses and practices that made up everyday life at the turn-of-the-twentieth century. Chapters 2 and 3 give the reader necessary background for understanding the following stories, as well as additional information on methods and artifacts for the interested reader. For the most part, the broad strokes of the recent past are well documented. What are not well documented are spatial and temporal variations, as well as the day-to-day lives of individuals and groups at crucial junctures in history, like the material changes accompanying emerging middle-class African Americans in the South or the introduction of a new technology like electricity. The usefulness and unique contribution of archaeologies of the recent past comes from linking the archaeological record to individual family generations (Groover 2004), particularly during these

historical junctures and at times of emerging technologies. To this end, I begin in Chapter 2 with the field and laboratory methods employed, followed by a chronological overview of the project and descriptions of artifacts, features, and proveniences. I conclude with a discussion of the documentary and ethno-historical methods used throughout the project. Chapter 3 is a brief history of the Mann-Simons family and site and an introduction to the difference between history and the past. Chapter 4 – the first story – is one of production. To understand the roles of ordinary objects in the routines of daily life requires first an understanding of why these objects were available in the forms they were and at the times they were. This is a story of the social histories of things (Appadurai 1986), a story of the commodity environment within which domestic and public practice was shaped, developed, constrained, and expanded. This story asks how these objects came to be and answers the question by relating artifacts – individually and collectively – recovered from the site independently of the actions/behaviors/practices of the site’s occupants. Significance here does not revolve around the Mann-Simons family. Production then is a story of not why the Mann-Simons family consumed the commodities they did, but why these things were even choices to begin with. Through the first of three deconstructions of the commodity concept, I examine three discursive structures that profoundly influenced production and marketing and structured the form of the commodity environment at the turn-of-the-twentieth century. I begin with discourses of health and sanitation at the end of the nineteenth century. A general perusal of popular and trade literature of the period reveals that concerns with health and sanitation were materializing across the full spectrum of commodities, from toothbrushes,

linoleum and electric light, to brightly-colored wall coverings, wrap-around bathroom and kitchen fixtures, and improved food packaging. By the 1930s, once these commodity forms had become common, manufacturers, advertisers and promotional forums like Better Homes and Gardens and Popular Home Craft gave little mention to health. These commodity attributes, first conceived of in terms of health, would later become integral parts of modern design. I next examine the relation between objects and the ‘stuff’ of which they are made. The late nineteenth and early twentieth century witnessed the innovation of new materials and spread of these materials to new classes and forms of objects to a greater degree than any historic period before. Aluminum and plastics come first to mind, but materials like asbestos and rubber compounds also captured public, industrial, and scientific imaginations. The characteristics of these materials reflect and embody the time and place in which they were made and an imagined future in which they might be used (Shove, et al. 2007: 97). The images and ideas of materials became, in many respects, more important than stylistic and formal attributes. Along with new materials also came the use of familiar materials in unfamiliar ways. With electricity came insulators, and with insulators came a restructuring of the entire domestic ceramics industry. And some materials, like bone, virtually disappeared. The second story – Chapter 5 – is one of consumption. To understand the role of ordinary objects in the routines of daily life requires an understanding of the role they played in the execution of such routines. Where the story of production was told from a top-down perspective, the story of consumption is told from the bottom-up. It is a story of object biographies (Kopytoff 1986), practices, and routines. Through the second

deconstruction of the commodity concept, my goal is to understand how assemblages of artifacts are related in terms of the behaviors and routines of the family and how these assemblages acted as mediators of practice. I take material consumption to be the acquisition of objects which are complete in themselves – a clock is a clock, a fork is a fork – but also incomplete components of real and imagined assemblages associated with various actual and potential practices and routines. I take a rather unpopular position in modern consumption studies, indicated by the first part of this definition, by suggesting that people often buy things for no other reason than they fulfill a function. Sometimes a fork really is just a fork. But of course, an object does not need to be a carrier of immaterial meaning to mediate practice. Since practice is both having and doing, the second part of this definition recognizes that individual objects are also parts of larger constellations of materials associated with broad patterns of behavior within specific social and material contexts, an idea that fits will with Ruth Schwartz Cowan's (1983) conception of work processes and household technologies. I explore these aspects of consumption within a framework of “buying a future,” a modification of an idea proposed by David Lowenthal (1986) in his book, The Past is a Foreign Country. Lowenthal suggests that mass produced goods – commodities – allowed for the first time an opportunity for people of moderate means to purchase diverse household goods in the same style. Contemporary examples include the stainless steel kitchen and mission style furniture throughout the living room. Lowenthal’s argument is that in doing so, people – consciously or not – were tying themselves into traditions, and as such, tying themselves into imagined and idealized pasts in terms of how they see themselves today.

I suggest, however, that instead of 'buying a past,' what we see happening with the Mann-Simons family at the turn-of-the-twentieth century is the consumption of ordinary objects to tie themselves into a desired future trajectory. They are 'buying a future.' This idea of buying a future became wide-spread by the 1930s and fully institutionalized by 1940s and 1950s—one need only think of all the advertisements for kitchens-of-thefuture and other 'modern conveniences' to understand how deeply embedded the idea had become that ordinary domestic objects were necessities for modernity; an idea consistent with the family's membership in the Masons, their small business pursuits, and middleclass status. If the Mann-Simons family was incorporating new commodities into daily routines to project where they wanted to be, and practice is the outcome of objects and behavior enacted through daily routines, what kinds of new objects engendered different practices? Is there evidence of practices that contradict the practical expectations of commodities or technologies? Are the same objects present before being incorporated into different or new practices? The final chapter is a story of heritage. While the stories of production and consumption were concerned with past people, places and objects, heritage tells a story of the relationship between ‘the past’ and ‘the present’ through the construction of materially-grounded historical knowledges at the Mann-Simons site. At the core of the site’s preservation and its later incarnation as a tourist site are the twin issues of authenticity and commodification. The conspicuously constructed landscapes that are cultural heritage sites act as organizing mediums though which communities remember, consumed as place and experience by residents and tourists seeking “authentic” “reconstructions” of the past. But heritage sites are always inventions, offering for

consumption selective versions of the past (Hoelscher 1998). Definitions of authenticity and heritage, far from being politically neutral, hinge on who has the authority and power to define the authentic. Those who can define authenticity will be able to have their account of history accepted as the public version. The central question thus becomes: whose authenticity is at stake at the Mann-Simons site and who has the power to define this authenticity? This is a story of heritage production and consumption and commodification following the purchase and partial destruction of the site by the Columbia Housing Authority during the early 1970s and the salvation of the main house through grass-roots efforts led by the Wisteria Garden Club. Through the third deconstruction of the commodity concept, I examine how the site â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;fitsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; within present spaces and discourses of heritage and memory from the perspective of someone involved in the production of such knowledge and demonstrate that critical theory and traditional, empirically-based research are not at odds. I ask, how is meaning found today? What kinds of history are created and who has a voice in the creation process? How do people connect through this place and what kinds of connections are made? I conclude these stories of Mann-Simons and Chapter 6 by raising and suggesting a partial answer to the question: what is the value of archaeologies of the recent past?

CHAPTER 2 ARCHAEOLOGY AND METHODOLOGY It was easier than I thought getting in Not like a rough shod journey from slavery to freedom all I had to do was turn the key and there you were all fixed and freshly painted except for the hole in the kitchen except for the cracks in the floors If only I could see what's under the paint ash from the stove little black child finger prints a grease spot from a well oiled head They say you don't take anything with you when you die but I don't think that's true You took the little things like how Celia wore her hair or how Ben liked his eggs But in the end I still have this house a treasure chest of questions —R. Heath Seeking History 2 (2006)

In the fall of 2003, during my first year as a graduate student, I was searching for a thesis topic. I knew I wanted to do archaeology of the recent past – when you grow up in Utah exploring ghost towns and abandoned mines in the Wasatch Mountains and desert mountains stretching to the west, there's really no choice – and I was intrigued by the possibilities of urban archaeology for exploring how people express and maintain social boundaries when space is at a premium. Spending day-after-day at the South

Carolina Institute of Archaeology and Anthropology (SCIAA), examining site files in the hopes of discovering a previously excavated site waiting to be interpreted, I came across a file describing a 1998 excavation of a nineteenth-twentieth century African American domestic site in downtown Columbia managed by Historic Columbia Foundationâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; Mann-Simons, site number 38RD1083. I approached Chris Clement, the principle investigator, got his support, transferred the artifacts from SCIAA to the Department of Anthropology, and set about writing a thesis. I never did get around to investigating social boundaries, but I did finish a thesis and came to the conclusion early-on that the Mann-Simons site was a dissertation waiting to happen. I had no inkling at the time that the project would take on a life of its own and become more than just archaeology. Spring 2005. Historic Columbia Foundation. I approached John Sherrer, Director of Cultural Resources, and Robin Waites, Executive Director. I explained what they already knew, that Mann-Simons is a unique, significant site that needed further research. I told them I would like to do my dissertation research on the site and conduct more extensive excavations. My proposal was to excavate roughly 500 square feet over the next six months. Two years later, when the last of the excavation units were backfilled, nearly 2,000 square feet of the site had been opened. The project kept growing, as did my relationship with HCF. Without Robin's willingness to take a chance on my ideas, this project would not have happened. Without John's knowledge and insights, this project would be an impoverished version of its current incarnation.

Since conclusions are only as good as the work which produced the data which generated those conclusions, here I outline my methods and thinking that guided the investigation and present the results of the excavations that are important to this study. I begin with the archaeology, reviewing previous research at the site and discussing field and laboratory methods as well Figure 2-1. 1904 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map with locations of the 1998 excavation units.

as artifact classification. A discussion of the excavations comes

next. Documents follow, with archive and library sampling, and lastly, how I went about talking with people.

PREVIOUS ARCHAEOLOGICAL RESEARCH In 1998, Chris Clement of SCIAA, on behalf of Historic Columbia Foundation, conducted limited excavation of the back yard area from 16 April to 7 May. Four excavation units were opened: two 10 x 10 foot squares and two 5 x 5 foot squares, or 250 square feet (Figure 2-1). Due to the manicured nature of the yard, topography and historic maps primarily directed Clementâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s placement of the units. The 10 x 10 foot units were intended to explore the yard area behind the house, while the 5 x 5 foot units were

intended to explore areas closer to the house (Clement, et al. 1999). A total of 8,410 artifacts and 7,076 grams of bone were recovered from all contexts. Clement's work was the first in South Carolina to focus on the archaeology of a free African American household and remains, with the addition of this study, the only excavation of an African American owned site in the greater Columbia area. Although the 1998 archaeology demonstrated the presence of significant, intact deposits and offered some tantalizing clues about life in Columbia, both 10 x 10 foot excavation units (N536 E505 and N530 E555) were actually located within the 1906 Marion Street property boundaries and relate only indirectly to the Mann-Simons family. The 5 x 5 foot excavation units (N490 E560 and N490 E545) were located within the 1904 Marion Street lot. Unfortunately, due to limited time, the majority of the features encountered within the 5 x 5 foot units were not excavated. In 2003, using Clement's data for my MA thesis (Crockett 2005), I examined how different material consumption strategies may have been used by the family to challenge their social status as marginalized consumers and citizens. However, put simply, during analysis the limited nature of the excavations created problems attributing patterns to people. Nonetheless, the 1998 archaeology suggested that with further, systematic data collection, the Mann-Simons site had the potential to offer substantial insights into the lives of the family and, accordingly, the diverse social milieu of the time.

FIELD METHODS An arbitrary datum and grid system was established for the 1998 excavations, which I continued to use to ensure comparability of data between projects and field

seasons. The grid system at the site is oriented to the Columbia street system, which is 14°-24’ west of magnetic north. The permanent datum consists of a three-foot length of ½-inch rebar driven flush with the ground near the Marion Street sidewalk and was assigned an arbitrary coordinate of N500 E500 and an elevation of 100 feet. Excavation units were 5 x 5 feet and excavated by natural stratigraphic layers. Each unique provenience (stratum, interface, feature, etc.) was assigned a unique provenience designation and received its own provenience form. Provenience designations consist of two parts: the unit number and a letter specific to that provenience. Provenience designations were assigned in the order in which they were encountered. For instance, if the unit number is 6, then the first layer is 6A, the next 6B, if a feature is next encountered, it would be 6C, and so on. If provenience assignments used the entire alphabet, double letters were assigned, such as AA, BB, CC, etc. Because of their confusion with other letters or numbers when written on small artifacts, the letters I, O, Q, U, and V were not used for provenience designations. Each provenience was also given a short title, generally based on the function of the feature (e.g. 'post hole') or strictly descriptive (e.g. ‘Level 1’, ‘Circular Intrusion’, ‘Charcoal Lens’, etc.). Having two designations per provenience helps minimize the chance of recording error. Screening was performed through ¼-inch wire mesh for all soil dug from units and shovel test pits (STPs). If a feature appeared to be rich in organics, soil samples were taken for later flotation processing. STPs were dug as square 1x1 foot holes in natural levels. All field measurements used an engineer’s scale of feet, tenths, and hundredths to keep the data consistent with the 1998 excavations. While all measurements are

presented here in engineerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s scale of feet, in some cases they are also presented in the common English scale of feet and inches. English measurements are presented for their cultural relevancyâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;it is the scale the occupants of the Mann-Simons site would have used when buying lumber, building structures, laying out their yard, etc. Photographic documentation of all stages of archaeological investigation included general views of the site, work in progress, and detailed record shots. Stratum photographs were taken from the south whenever lighting or physical conditions permitted. Photographs of each profile were taken after a unit was completely excavated. A digital camera was used for all photographs. Resulting images were saved in .tiff format to minimize data loss and maintain image integrity. Panoramic photography methods were employed at the site to create plan view photographs of block excavations. A seven-foot high bipod was constructed from two lengths of 2 x 4 inch lumber with a hinge connecting the two and a camera mount from a traditional tripod secured at the apex. A series of photographs which overlapped by at least 50% were taken of the excavation areas. The resulting images were stitched into a single photograph using the freeware software program Hugin, which automatically corrects for slight deviations in camera roll, pitch, and yaw. The result is a high resolution photograph of the excavation area that overcomes the too-common problem associated with traditional overview photographs: a single photograph of a large area unable to depict minute details. Austin Paterek, a visual anthropologist, employed historic photographic superimposition to document locations of nonexistent structures not visible archaeologically. In doing so, Paterek (2009) developed a new method of photographic superimposition using readily

available digital equipment that expands the range of interpretive potential of historic photographs. Two types of drawings were produced: plan view and profile drawings. The standard drawing material was a prepared tracing paper, 15 x 16 inches, with a blue line grid of 10 squares-to-the-inch. All plan view and profile drawings used a scale of 1 inch = 1/2 foot, while full site maps were drawn at a scale of either 1 inch = 10 feet or 1 inch = 20 feet. In general, the profile of the north wall was drawn, but if the strata appear differently in other walls then those walls were drawn as well. Profile drawings were also completed for each feature along its bisection line. Plan view drawings followed the same conventions as the profile drawings.

LABORATORY METHODS Once a provenience was completely excavated and screened in the field, the artifacts were brought back to the Department of Anthropology for cleaning, cataloging and curation. Before any cleaning took place, artifacts were inspected for objects which might require special treatment. The following is a general overview of the processing steps for all artifacts following initial inspection. Artifact processing followed the Society for Historical Archaeology Standards and Guidelines for the Curation of Archaeological Collections (1993) and the Society for Historical Archaeology Curation FAQ (2006). Following initial sorting, artifacts requiring cleaning for identification, curation, or display were separated by appropriate cleaning technique. Robust, stable, lowporosity materials, excluding metal, were washed in plain, non-distilled water with a soft-

bristled nylon brush. Initially, bone was also washed with water, but this practice was halted early on to prevent possible damage before being examined by a faunal analyst. Objects with delicate surface decoration were generally not washed, preferring a dirty artifact over an undiagnostic artifact. After cleaning, artifacts were placed on galvanized steel screens and allowed to air dry. Given the high acid content of paper materials, artifacts were never placed on newspaper or paper towels to dry. Organic materials such as leather, cloth, and wood were lightly dry-brushed or not cleaned at all. For leather, a micro-environment was created to prevent undue drying and shrinking. These microenvironments are composed of two polyethylene bags. The artifact is placed in the first bag in which small holes have been punched with a pin. This bag is then placed in a second, larger bag in which several drops of water have been placed. The result is an easy-to-construct humid micro-environment that prevents direct contact between the leather and water. Metal objects were dry-brushed with nylon brushes of varying stiffness. Given the fragile nature of metal objects, most were only cleaned enough to allow for identification. Two exceptions to this rule were 1) artifacts likely to be displayed as part of HCFâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s museum activities and 2) metal artifacts likely to continue corroding in storage but represent unique findings thus requiring stabilization. Some metals, like aluminum, develop a thin layer of corrosion that forms a stable, protective barrier against further corrosion (Peterson 1968; SHA 2006). Unless such a barrier obscured important surface details, these metals were dry-brushed only, regardless of potential for display. Other metals, like iron, require stabilization for preservation. Given that surface details are often preserved in corrosion layers, the decision for corrosion removal was done on a

case-by-case basis. The purpose of stabilization is to prevent further deterioration and reveal important information. If the decision was made to remove corrosion, two methods, alone or combined, were used: mechanical (e.g. hand brushes, soft and hard picks) and electrolytic. Mechanical methods alone were used on most non-iron artifacts, although some brass and copper objects received limited electrolytic treatment. Due to the incorporation of water soluble salts into iron over time, iron objects requiring stabilization most often received direct electrolytic treatment with limited mechanical removal of corrosion. Electrolytic reduction treatments come in two flavors. The first, indirect electrolysis, is an electro-chemical process whereby an artifact (forming the cathode) is placed in an iron container, covered with particles of mossy zinc (forming the anode), and a 10-20% solution of sodium hydroxide (the electrolyte) poured over them (Peterson 1968). The artifact is left in solution until cleaned to its desired state. The advantage of indirect electrolysis is a great degree of control over the rate of rust removal. The disadvantage is the high cost of mossy zinc. Due to cost constraints, artifacts from the Mann-Simons site were treated using the second method, direct electrolysis, which uses electric current to turn iron-oxides and iron-chlorides back into metallic iron. The advantage of direct electrolysis is the extremely low cost of operation. The disadvantage is less precise control over the process. Following standard procedures, the anode consisted of stainless steel, a 15-20% solution of sodium chloride was used as an electrolyte, and a target 2 Ampere current flow was sought (Western 1972; Canadian Conservation Institute 1995). Power came from an old desktop computer power supply. A computer power supply has several advantages over the more commonly used

automobile battery charger, including a design meant to be run 24-hours a day/seven days a week, the ability to push 5 and 12-volts simultaneously, the cost is free or nearly free, and they are much smaller. After electrolytic treatment, artifacts were rinsed throughly in distilled, de-ionized water, dried in an oven, coated in melted microcrystalline wax, and placed into polyethylene bags containing dry silica gel in desiccators. After cleaning, artifacts were laid out in preparation for cataloging. A unique catalog number was assigned to each artifact or group of artifacts with identical descriptive values within a given provenience. The catalog number is composed of two elements separated by a hyphen: the provenience designation and the artifact number. The artifact number at the end is unique within each provenience and is assigned sequentially. For example, cataloging the provenience designated as ‘6A’, the first artifact to be cataloged within that provenience is numbered ‘6A-1’, the second artifact as ‘6A-2’, the third as ‘6A-3’, and so on. This procedure is repeated for each discrete provenience. Note that catalog numbers within every provenience begin with ‘1’ and continue in numerical order. Catalog numbers were applied directly to artifacts to aid in identification and as a security device. Each individually labeled artifact was placed in its own polyethylene bag with the catalog number written on the lower, right-hand side of the white writing block on the outside of the bag. An acid-free paper slip labeled with the provenience and catalog information was also placed in the bag with the artifact. The labeling technique involves applying Acryloid B-72 as a bottom coat, writing the number using a Rapidograph pen filled with black pigment-based ink, and then applying Acryloid B-67 as a top coat. Acryloid B-72 and B-67 are stable acrylic resins that can be applied and

removed with different solvents (SHA 2006). For darkly colored objects, titanium dioxide pigments were added to the bottom coat of B-72. This method was used on artifacts like ceramics, glass, metal, and decorative bone (such as buttons). It was not used on plastic or rubber artifacts as the solvents will cause damage, nor was this method used for organic materials like leather, cloth, or non-decorative bone. A string-tag label was attached to artifacts too large to fit in a gallon-sized bag, as well as wooden items like posts. Bulk artifacts like nails, un-diagnostic bottle fragments, and metal can fragments were not labeled individually. After cataloging and conservation, artifacts were re-bagged into larger polyethylene bags and placed in acid-free storage boxes. The exterior end of each box was labeled in permanent ink with provenience data and inclusive catalog numbers and a Box Contents List placed within each box.

COLLECTION OLLECTION DATING While the process of dating any site, feature, or artifact can be complex, in late nineteenth and early twentieth century contexts the complexities are compounded by the materials themselves. When compared to the literature on seventeenth and eighteenth century material culture, descriptions of mass-produced goods manufactured in the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries are remarkably scarce in the archaeological literature. Additionally, these materials are in many cases still being produced today. Thus, historical archaeologists of the recent past face a unique set of challenges, characterized by a broad temporal range for many of the most commonly found artifacts and a shortage of published fine-grained artifact chronologies and typologies. A semester spent at

Winterthur Museum and Estate, Delaware, allowed for the development of multiple finegrained artifact chronologies using period trade literature, including, among others, asbestos, carbon rods, and electrical wiring (Appendix A). I discuss the strategies for collecting and compiling such information under the header Documentary Methodology later in this chapter. Two methods for dating archaeological deposits are commonly employed by historical archaeologists. The first method, developed by Stanley South (1978), involves deriving a mean ceramic date (MCD) for a site or assemblage, or, as Mark Groover (2001) has proposed, a mean artifact date (MAD). With this method, the median date for the manufacture of each ceramic (or artifact) type is multiplied by its frequency (for ceramics, either number of sherds or minimum number of vessels), which is then divided by the total number of ceramic types in the sample. The product is the mean date of the manufacture of recovered ceramics. Although mean ceramic dating is a proven method for dating archaeological assemblages, particularly for seventeenth and eighteenth century sites, it is not the best option for the Mann-Simons site for two reasons. First, as Miller, et al. (2000) note, a deposit that accumulated over a period of ten years and one that accumulated over 100 years can produce the same MCD. Given the long, continuous, and recent occupation of the Mann-Simons properties, this is a valid concern. Second, like many artifacts, the majority of the ceramics produced during the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries are still in production today. Many of the ceramics would have, for example, an introduction date of 1820 (the introduction date of whiteware) and an end date of today, producing a mean manufacturing date of 1917â&#x20AC;&#x201D;a date that is completely unrelated to the actual deposits or periods of occupation.

Therefore, dates for deposits were calculated using the second common dating method: by terminus post quem (TPQ). This method involves dating a deposit by the latest made artifact in the assemblage. The introduction date of the latest made artifact is the earliest date that the deposit could have been created (Miller, et al. 2000). For example, if a feature contained three artifacts – a crown cap bottle closure (introduced in 1892), an undecorated whiteware plate (introduced circa 1820), and a galvanized roofing nail (introduced in 1901) – the TPQ date for the feature would be 1901; the earliest date the feature could have been created. When dateable characteristics overlapped, typically the tighter date range was used.

ARTIFACT CLASSIFICATION The classification and cataloging system used for the Mann-Simons project is a modified version of the system set forth in the National Park Service’s (NPS) Museum Handbook, Part II (2000), which itself is based on the classification system proposed by Roderick Sprague (1981). Nineteen unique fields are available for describing each artifact, six more than provided under the NPS system. Deviations from the NPS cataloging system are noted when discussed. A complete list of object names and descriptors used in this study for each field is provided in Appendix B. Diane Wallman (USC-Columbia) did the faunal analysis for the project. Her methods and classification system is provided in Appendix C. There has been some criticism of the use of Sprague's typology (Spude 2006), revolving around the idea that a typology based on common functional descriptions preconditions the archaeologist to viewing artifacts in terms of these predefined functions

and not the possible function(s) of the artifacts for the actual users. Although I agree that preconditioned thought is a potential problem, what this argument ignores is that typologies are not only structured ways of organizing variation, and thus for understanding something about the people interacting with these objects, but a method of communicating such variation as well. The example of a hardware superstore illustrates this point. The majority of products in hardware stores have so many potential uses it is impractical to group them together in ways that relate to the immediate requirements of individual consumers. The thousands of items for sale are therefore organized according to a recognizable typology which distinguishes between plumbing fittings, paints, wood stains, electrical wiring, and so forth. The Sprague typology is a way of distinguishing between nails and ammunition in a way that people will recognize, regardless that nails and ammunition can both function as instruments of injury. Under this taxonomy, each artifact was first assigned to a Class. Thirteen classifications were available: Bone, Shell, Ceramic (includes brick), Glass, Metal, Stone, Mineral (other than stone), Synthetic, Wood, Organic (excludes bone, shell and wood), Composite (more than one material), Soil (used only for soil samples), and Unidentified. Once broadly classified, artifacts were assigned an Object Name. Most object names are self evident, such as Toy, Marble. Other terms are specially defined. Container refers to packages that contained a product (e.g. Container, Bottle, Medicinal). Tableware refers to utensils designed for table use (e.g. Tableware, Knife). Utilitarian refers to utility ware objects (e.g. Utilitarian, Jar/Crock). Vessel was used when the specific form of a tableware or utilitarian ware was not recognizable. Vessel was not used in conjunction with container. Hollowware was used with tableware or utilitarian ware and refers to

fragments with enough curvature to indicate volume and depth but unrecognizable as to specific form. Flatware was also used with tableware and utilitarian wares where fragments were more or less flat but the specific form is unknown. Lastly, Unidentified was used when the function or form of an artifact could not be identified (e.g. Unidentified, Vessel or Unidentified, Glass). When the specific form of an object could be identified, an additional level of description was used to add further specificity to the Object Name group. For example, an egg cup is a type of bowl, and therefore would be assigned the Object Name Tableware, Bowl, Egg Cup. As this example illustrates, the hierarchical nature of object names is one of the classification system’s most useful characteristics, allowing for increasing specificity as new information about an object is gathered. Under the NPS system, classification is further divided into seven broad groups: Manufacturing Technique (e.g. Pressed Glass or Three-Piece Mold), Decorative Technique (e.g. Embossed or Transfer Printed, Underglaze, Monochrome), Decorative Design (e.g. Floral or Geometric), Decorative Element (e.g. Fleur-de-lis or Diamond), Color (e.g. Mulberry or Cobalt Blue), Part (e.g. Handle or Lip), and Material (e.g. Stoneware or Aluminum). The ‘Decorative Element’ field was also used when the specific decorative pattern could be identified (e.g. Willow or Hobnail). When cataloging ceramic objects, the ‘Color’ field was used to record information about the color of decoration or glaze and was used only when color was not part of the information contained in one of the Decorative fields. Given the widely varying criteria in use for determining the color of historic glass, for this study the Color field for glass objects was used mainly for descriptive purposes. Count was used to record the number of artifacts

falling under the same catalog number. Manufacturing Date was used to record the manufacturing start and end dates for an object, if known, or, in some cases, a peak usage date range. The Mann-Simons project also used several additional fields not included in the NPS classification system. These fields reflect the specific research questions of the project, as well as the time period under investigation. The Makerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Mark field was used to record any manufacturerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s mark(s) on an object. Other Mark refers to any mark other than a Makerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Mark, including, but not limited to, back marks, quality marks, content marks, and post-consumption marks (e.g. initials scratched into the side of a bottle). Weight was typically recorded for less-diagnostic artifacts, for example, sheet metal fragments or brick. Weights for ceramics and glass were not recorded. The Dimensions field was used when the size of the object is an important part of its identification (e.g. the diameter of a marble, radius of a rim sherd, or shank length of a nail). Date Source was used to record the reference materials used to determine the date entered in the Manufacturing Date field. The MNI field, or Minimum Number of Items, refers to, as the name suggests, the minimum number of complete items that could account for the number of artifacts under a given catalog identification. Although MNV (Minimum Number of Vessels) is the traditional term for referring to minimum numbers of ceramic and glass vessels, the use of MNI as a generic term for all Minimum Number counts is a better option, as it avoids the situation of needing to develop an unnecessary slew of terms to refer to objects other than vessels, like MNC (Minimum Number of Cartridges), MNB (Minimum Number of Buttons), MNN (Minimum Number of Nails), and on, and on.

Looking at ceramic vessels, Spencer-Wood (1987) examined several different methods for calculating minimum number counts. Two methods for determining counts were tested: the first used rims only and the second used rims and any other distinctive body fragments that could not be part of any vessel represented by a rim or other body fragment. She determined that the rim and distinctive body fragment method resulted in a more complete vessel count than just using rims alone. For this reason, MNI counts for ceramic, glass, and metal containers (like tin cans) are calculated here using the rim and distinctive body fragment method. MNI values for other artifact types were determined based on the unique characteristics of that particular type of object. For example, for nails, MNI counts were based on nail heads, regardless of the number of shank fragments recovered; lamp chimney counts were based on rim type and circumference. In all cases, artifacts were examined for possible cross-mends. Fragments which did not mend were examined for matches in design, form, color, and other attributes which would indicate matches with previously defined objects. Objects that did not match either mended objects or other fragments were counted as additional objects. For closed contexts, like trash pits and privies, recovery provenance was maintained for each artifact (such as the level from which an artifact was recovered), while cross-mends and minimum number of object counts were determined for the entire feature as appropriate. My use of Functional Categories differs from the traditional program of functional analysis proposed by South (1978) and used by many historical archaeologists. South devised his system of functional analysis to aid in identifying patterns in the archaeological record on seventeenth and eighteenth century sites that could then be correlated to general theoretical explanations for the existence of these patterns. But,

South’s categories for seventeenth and eighteenth century sites are less than ideal for answering certain types of questions for late nineteenth and twentieth century sites. For this project, ‘Functional Category’ refers to the following general categories: Architectural, Domestic, Electrical, Kitchen, and Personal. While the Kitchen and, to a lesser extent, the Personal object categories are in keeping with South’s schemata, the Architectural, Domestic, and Electrical categories, when examined temporally, have the potential to yield information about the introduction, adoption, and use of technologies and materials unique to the manufacturing and consumption context of the late nineteenth and twentieth century. General categories contain several subcategories:

Architectural Architectural-Exterior Architectural-Interior Kitchen Ornamental Kitchen-Tableware Kitchen-Utilitarian

Personal Personal-Clothing Personal-Firearms Personal-Hygiene PersonalPersonal-Sewing Personal-Toy

Domestic

Electrical

Artifacts in the Architectural category include nails, brick, mortar, plaster, roofing/siding tiles, window glass, door hinges, etc. Architectural-Exterior refers specifically to those items related to the exterior surfaces of structures, such as roofing and siding materials. The Architectural-Exterior subcategory does not include objects whose function is not unambiguously related to exterior structural surfaces, for example, nails, brick, mortar, etc., which are assigned the general category Architectural. The Architectural-Interior subcategory is used for architectural objects unambiguously related to structural interiors, for example, plaster. 53

The Electrical category refers to objects used in the transmission of electricity such as wire, insulators, plugs and fuses, objects used in the conversion to or from electricity such as batteries, carbon rods and light bulbs, as well as objects operating by way of electricity, such as telephones and door bells. Kitchen artifacts include all objects related to the storage, serving, or preparation of foods or beverages such as glass and ceramic vessels, serving and eating utensils, etc. The Kitchen-Tableware subcategory is used for utensils, ceramics, or glass designed for table use. This includes bowls suitable for serving at the table, cups, forks, refined hollowwares, drinking glasses, knives, plates, spoons, etc. The Kitchen-Utilitarian subcategory is used to designate objects of utility ware, including bottles, crocks, jars, cans, and jugs. When an artifact was identifiable as a kitchen item, but not as Tableware or Utilitarian, it was assigned the general category Kitchen. Personal artifacts include clothing-related items such as buttons or buckles, as well as coins, sewing-related items, tobacco pipes, etc. The Personal-Toy subcategory is used for marbles, balls, figurines, jacks, and other items traditionally associated with the activities of children. Artifacts in the Personal-Clothing subcategory include buttons, buckles, clothing rivets, shoe leather, hook-and-eye fasteners, etc. Personal-Sewing is used for needles, straight pins, safety pins, thimbles, and other items related to the making, repairing, and tailoring of clothing. The Personal-Ornamental subcategory includes rings, necklaces, pendants, broaches, earrings, etc. The Personal-Hygiene subcategory is used to designate objects that are hygiene, cosmetic, or personal appearance related, including toothpaste/brushes, soap, combs, hair products, etc. The Personal-Firearms subcategory includes all objects related to firearms. When an artifact

was identifiable as a personal item, but not as Toy, Clothing, Sewing, Firearms, Ornamental, or Hygiene, it was assigned the general category Personal. The Domestic category was used to distinguish household-related items, including furniture hardware, light shades/chimneys (those not assigned to the Electrical category), door knobs, bric-abrac, flowerpots, and other household objects. Lastly, a Notes field is provided at the end of the catalog entry to record any additional information relevant to the object not included in the previous fields. Not every artifact description used every available field. Classification fields were used as appropriate for the object. Below are two example artifact catalog entries to illustrate the systemâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a ceramic serving plate and a soda pop bottle:

CLASS: OBJECT NAME: MATERIAL: MANUFACTURING TECHNIQUE: DECORATIVE TECHNIQUE: DECORATIVE DESIGN: DECORATIVE ELEMENT: COLOR: PART: COUNT: MNI: WEIGHT: DIMENSIONS: FUNCTIONAL CATEGORY: MAKER'S MARK: OTHER MARKS: MANUFACTURING DATE: DATE SOURCE: NOTES:

Ceramic Tableware, Plate, Serving Earthenware Whiteware Flow Transfer Printed Architectural Building Blue Rim 2 1 n/a Rim diameter = 18-inches Kitchen-Tableware No No 1840-1900 Miller, et al. 2000:13 Evidence of burning/high heat

Glass Container, Bottle, Soda Pop Glass Cup-bottom Mold Embossed n/a Text Aqua (blue) Base fragments 13 1 n/a Base diameter = 3-inches Kitchen-Utilitarian Yes No 1915-1923 “CHERO COLA” embossed, angled block text, center base

EXCAVATION STAGES Excavation occurred between July 2005 and June 2007 in three stages. The primary objective of fieldwork was straightforward: excavate a representative sample of the entire area continually occupied by the Mann-Simons family between 1825 and 1970 within accessible spaces (i.e. the site boundaries defined by modern features, for example, the paved parking lot east of the site). The goal was to establish how the material culture of the family varied in relation to changes in both family structure and Columbia's social environment throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. In the following three sections, I discuss the specific objectives and scope of work for each stage of excavation.

STAGE I: SHOVEL TEST SURVEY Excavations undertaken by Clement, et al. (1999) in 1998 hinted at the potential of the site but did not provide the data necessary to evaluate it fully. To remedy this 56

problem, Stage I objectives were broad in scope and designed to address basic questions about the occupation and integrity of the site. The objectives of Stage I were: 1) archaeologically investigate those areas of the site that were to be irreparably disturbed by HCF landscaping activities planned for late autumn 2005 and 2) define the archaeological integrity of the entire green space between the Mann-Simons house and the apartment building to the north. Between 13 and 23 July 2005, 31 shovel test pits in the area between the MannSimons house and the apartment building to the north were excavated. Shovel tests were distributed along a grid at 20-foot intervals across the entire backyard area (Figure 2-2). Each shovel test was excavated to a sufficient Figure 2-2. Locations of shovel test pits.

depth to intersect undisturbed features and

subsoil. Since the shovel tests were used to define the stratigraphy of the soil and identify the presence of features and artifacts, they did not intrude upon features or extend below subsoil.

A total of 46 shovel tests were originally proposed. However, upon examination of the stratigraphy within 30 feet of the apartment building, I determined that the soil was too disturbed to provide useful data. As a result, shovel tests were canceled in the remaining areas surrounding the apartment building. This is exactly the type of information shovel tests are designed to provide. The shovel tests produced a large sample of the stratigraphic nature of the site and a sample of spatially distinct artifacts and features from all periods of occupation.

STAGE II: EXCAVATION UNITS Following shovel testing, Stage II excavations occurred in two phases. During the first phase, which took place between 27 July and 30 October 2005, I originally proposed to excavate ten 5 x 5 foot units within the front and side yard areas to be impacted by landscaping activities (Figure 2-3, units 5-12). The placement of each unit was randomly determined to provide a statistically valid sample of these areas. The primary purpose of these units was to identify evidence of fences, structures, and other landscape features related to the various occupations, such as the 1407 and 1401 Richland Street structures. This work plan was not completed for a number of reasons. The most important factor was that the stratigraphy was more complex than anticipated. Based on the results of the 1998 excavations, I expected unit depth from surface to subsoil to occur between 10 and 18 inches below surface and be composed of two primary strata. The units around the house, however, were approximately 24 inches below surface and composed of four distinct strata. In addition, each unit contained far more features than expected. As a result, five excavation units within the east side of the yard were completed and none

within the west yard. These units provided the first systematic view of resources at the site and allowed the formulation of more sophisticated methodologies employed during Stage III. The second phase of Stage II excavations took place from May to July 2006. Between 8 and 26 May, I directed 15 graduate and

Figure 2-3. Locations of excavation units.

undergraduate students as part of the University of South Carolina, Department of Anthropologyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Field School in Archaeology (ANTH 322). With the aid of volunteers, I completed Stage II fieldwork on 28 July. The primary objective of phase 2, Stage II was to excavate two sampling strata: the west side of the yard and the side yard area between the structures at 1403 Richland and 1904 Marion Streets. Five 5 x 5 foot units and one 2.5 x 2.5 foot unit were excavated, as well as two shovel test pits. Since the landscaping activities within the west yard area were completed several months prior to the start of phase 2, Stage II, areas open to excavation were limited to

Figure 2-4A. Locations of excavation units/blocks relative to past and present structures. Building 'A' is the lunch counter at 1401 Richland Street, 'B' is the house at 1403 Richland Street, 'C' is the grocery store at 1407 Richland Street, 'D' is a three-room domicile at 1407-1/2 Richland Street, 'E' is the privy, 'F' is an outbuilding, 'G' is a replacement outbuilding, 'H' is the first incarnation of the house at 1904 Marion Street, 'I' is the first addition, 'J' is the second addition to the house. untouched spaces, essentially a narrow strip approximately five-feet wide running north/south down the center of the west yard. As a result, random sampling was abandoned in favor of judgmental placement of excavation units. Excavation units were directed primarily by the 1904 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map of Columbia. A 5 x 5 foot 60

excavation unit was opened to explore the possible structural remains of a small-scale commercial building located directly on the northeast corner of Richland and Marion Streets at 1401 Richland Street (Unit 12). Unit 11 initially started as a shovel test pit to explore the southeast corner of the structure. Upon encountering in situ brick foundation remains, the 1 x 1 foot STP was expanded into a 2.5 x 2.5 foot excavation unit. Since the STP had been excavated according to natural strata, conversion to an excavation unit was straightforward, with no loss of artifactual or contextual data. Additionally, four excavation units were placed within the rear-side yard, generating a twenty-percent sample of the area (units 14-17). In addition to numerous intact deposits, structural foundations, and a broad array of material items, these excavations also revealed evidence of severe stratigraphic disturbance. It appears that during renovations of the 1403 Richland Street house in 1974, a large semi-circular trench was dug around the rear of the house extending nearly ten-feet from the structure. While this information helped formulate the research design for Stage III excavations in terms of sampling, the result is a complete loss of archaeological integrity in this part of the yard.

STAGE III: BLOCK EXCAVATIONS Stage III excavations began 9 September 2006 and continued until 30 June 2007. During this time, two field school classes contributed to excavation. The first was a Saturday-only class during Fall semester, 2006. The second class was a more traditional field school, which took place May 2007. The stratified random sampling strategy used during Stage II was abandoned during stage III. Instead, block excavations were employed. Two 20 x 20-foot blocks were laid out, with additional units placed

judgmentally to explore proximate areas. These blocks represent a 64-percent sample of the common yard area behind the houses at 1403 Richland and 1904 Marion Streets (Figures 2-4A, B). One of the inherent difficulties of urban archaeology results from long-term, intensive land use within small, bounded spaces. This land use pattern results in a multitude of intrusive architectural and non-architectural features associated with

Figure 2-4B. Photograph of Block 1.

each occupation era. With randomly distributed excavation units, like those of Stage II, the difficulty lays, literally, in connecting the dots. Block excavations were used in the common yard area to reveal patterning not visible using the methods employed in Stage II excavations, most notably, horizontal patterning related to structures and day-to-day activities. During Stage II, all strata were excavated, screened, and artifacts provenienced accordingly, including the upper-most stratum (Level 1) representing post-1970 disturbance. Although spatially out of context, artifacts from Level 1 were initially saved to facilitate the analysis of commodity flowsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;an analysis that can be preformed adequately at an urban block scale. The need for this data from Level 1, however, disappeared after discovery of a large, very well preserved trash deposit containing over one-thousand artifacts associated with the lunch counter at 1401 Richland Street.

Consequently, recovery of Level 1 data, which was very time consuming, was abandoned during Stage III. Utilizing the stratigraphic information generated from the 2005 shovel test survey, Level 1 soils were mechanically removed and discarded using a backhoe to reveal undisturbed strata. The exposed stratum (Level 2 or 3, depending on yard area) represents the post-Reconstruction/Jim Crow-era occupations and is the primary data from the common yard area used in the study. Feature identification was often problematic during Stage III excavation, particularly within Block 2 in the far backyard area. This area was heavily disturbed by at least three post-1970 landscaping episodesâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;destruction of the buildings, construction of a parking lot to the east, and renovation of the 1403 Richland Street house. These disturbed strata were composed of very dark, artifact-rich soils, making feature identification during excavation difficult.

SITE STRATIGRAPHY Although site stratigraphy varied somewhat across the site, depending on the degree of disturbance caused by post-1970 destruction, landscaping, and building activities in a given area, excavations revealed four distinct strata present across most of the site. Level 1 was a loose black sandy loam that varied in thickness from 0.4 to 1.3 feet and showed evidence of significant disturbance. Variation in depth is associated with the removal of various structures on the site during the 1970s, as well as subsequent landscaping activities. No features were associated with this level, but a tremendous

number of artifacts were present as a result of mechanical grading that sheared the tops off of various features. Artifacts were not recovered from this level. Level 2 was a very dark grayish brown sandy silt, mottled with 5% strong brown sandy silt and yellowish red sandy clay that varied in thickness from 0.2 to 0.8 feet. A number of features were associated with this level, including early-to-mid twentieth century pipe trenches and trash deposits, as well as large post molds (~10 inch diameter) related to construction activities that occurred on the site circa 1912. Level 3 was a dark yellowish brown sandy silt, mottled with 30% dark brown sandy silt and 20% strong brown sandy clay loam that varied in thickness from 0.09 to 0.20 feet. A number of features were associated with this level, including the foundation of the grocery store located at 1407 Richland Street, many post molds, and large trash deposits. Level 3 is related to construction activities that occurred on the site between the 1870s and 1912, like the construction of the building at 1407 Richland Street and the expansion of the main house at 1403 Richland Street. Level 4 was subsoil, a strong brown compact sandy clay loam. Features associated with this layer were small (mostly two-inch) post molds and large semicircular features of unknown function. Each of these levels corresponds to a distinct occupation era and correlates closely with changes in head-of-household. Level 1 represents the landscaping and disturbance associated with the post-1970 activities of the Columbia Housing Authority. Level 2, which also shows evidence of disturbance, represents what is left of the circa 1912-1970 occupation of the site. Level 3 spans the period between the 1870s and 1912. The lowermost stratum, Level 4, represents the pre-1870s occupation of the site. Together, these

strata represent not only four distinct family occupations, but also four unique social eras: antebellum (Level 4), post-Reconstruction (Level 3), Jim Crow segregation (Level 2), and Figure 2-5. Excavation units associated with the lunch counter at 1401 Richland Street.

contemporary heritage tourism (Level 1).

In the following sections, I describe the features, artifacts, and archaeological contexts important to this study. In some cases I discuss an individual feature under its own header, but most of this discussion is organized around unifying areas or themes. For example, under the 'Lunch Counter' header are all the artifacts and proveniences associated with that structure; under the header of 'Infrastructure Related Features' are all the artifacts and features associated with electricity, plumbing, gas, etc. Note that this is not a complete list of all features or recovered artifacts, just those used in this study.

THE LUNCH COUNTER One of the most exciting discoveries at the site was the features associated with the lunch counter. From the documentary record, it was known to be in operation from at least 1891 to 1909 and was located at 1401 Richland Street, directly on the northeast corner of Richland and Marion Streets (Figure 2-5). In the city directories it was

variously described as a 'grocery,' a 'restaurant,' a 'lunch room,' and a 'confectionery.' Presented below are the results of the excavations related to the lunch counter organized by unit, concluding with a descriptive interpretation of the structure.

UNIT 11 Unit 11 initially started as a shovel test Figure 2-6. West profile of Unit 11.

pit (STP 104) to explore possible structural remains of the lunch counter. Placement of the

STP was directed by the Sanborn map of 1904, which suggested that the southeast corner of the structure was 13-feet east of the western property line (inside of Marion Street sidewalk). Upon encountering an in situ brick foundation pier (Feature 11E), the 1 x 1foot STP was converted into a 2.5 x 2.5-foot unit and fully excavated. Since the STP had been excavated by natural strata, conversion to an excavation unit was straightforward, with no loss of artifactual or contextual data. Unit 11 contained six layers consisting of a series of lenses and deposits (Figure 2-6). The first three layers are unrelated to the occupation of the site by the family. Level 1 (11A), the top-most layer, was a brown sandy loam, 0.35 feet thick, associated with post-1970 landscaping. Level 2 (11B), 0.3 feet thick, is also associated with post1970 landscaping, consisting of a very dark brown sandy loam with inclusions of very pale brown loose sand. In the southwest corner between Levels 1 and 2 was a thin lens of

sand, 0.2-feet thick. Level 3 (11C), 0.35 feet thick, was a reddish brown compact sandy clay, consistent with disturbances associated with the 1974 renovation of the 1403 Richland Street house (the main MannFigure 2-7. Unit 11 at the top of Level 5 (11J), looking southeast.

Simons house). A post mold (Feature 11F) was discovered in

the southwest corner of Unit 11 at the top of Level 3, measuring 0.65 feet (approximately eight inches) in diameter with a depth of 1.75 feet. Given its association with a post-1970 layer, the postmold likely represents either an early, post-occupation era fence separating the front yard from the sidewalk or is related to (de)construction activities. Also related to post-1970 disturbance, three thin lenses, 0.2-0.4 feet thick, composed of mottled soil with high concentrations of architectural debris and a piece of 1/2-inch lumber extended approximately 0.4-feet from the south wall between Levels 3 and 4. Level 4 (11D), a dark yellowish brown sandy silt ranging in thickness from 0.35 to 0.7 feet thick, represents the remains of the top-most layer associated with the MannSimons family. It was at the surface of Level 4 that the top of the brick foundation pier (Feature 11E) was encountered and the STP converted into an excavation unit. After conversion, cleaning of Level 4 just below the surface of the bricks revealed the outline of a builder's trench (Feature 11G) consisting of a brown sandy silt. A second course of bricks associated with Feature 11E was discovered as Level 4 and Feature 11G were

excavated (Figure 2-7). Becoming more clearly defined with excavation, the shape of the builder's trench was a rough '+' shape running north/south and east/west following the outline of the brick foundation, terminating at the surface of Level 5 (11J). The brick foundation appeared to be composed of recycled bricks and brick bats with no evidence of mortar within the joints. In situ bricks were left undisturbed after excavation; disturbed bricks were noted, removed, and discarded in the field. No evidence of soot was detected on any of the bricks (see description of Feature 12T for more on the significance of soot-coated bricks). Level 4 had a TPQ date of 1892, based on a crown cap bottle closure (artifact #11D-66). Level 5 was a dark yellowish brown loose sandy silt, 0.3-0.7 feet thick, associated with the base of the builder's trench and brick foundation. At the top of Level 5, below the level of the brick foundation, was a small, shallow, 0.25-foot (three inch) postmold (Feature 11H) directly in-line with the east wall of the lunch counter. No artifacts were recovered, but given its stratigraphic position, it either pre-dates the construction of the lunch counter or, more likely, given its orientation respective to the lunch counter's east wall, is associated with the building of the structure. Interestingly, on the top of Level 5, but directly under a foundation brick, was discovered an 1863 penny (artifact #11J-1). Level 5 had a TPQ of 1880, based on a .22 caliber cartridge case (artifact #11J-45). The bottom-most layer, Level 6 (11L), a yellowish red compact sandy clay, represents undisturbed subsoil.

DESCRIPTION OF THE ARTIFACTS: LEVEL 4

Table 2-1. Summary of Artifacts from Stratum 11D, Level 4 Sorted by Object Name and MNI Object Name

(11D) MNI

Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .22 Caliber

Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .41 Caliber

A full description of the artifacts

Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .44 Caliber

Architectural, Glass, Window

found in Level 4 (11D) is detailed in

Architectural, Tile Clothing, Button, 2-Piece

1 1

Appendix D. A total of 1,048 artifacts

Clothing, Button, 4-Hole

Clothing, Button, Collar, Separable

Clothing, Grommet

Clothing, Straight Pin

Container, Bottle

Container, Bottle, Closure, Crown Cap

Container, Bottle, Medicinal / Pharmaceutical Container, Bottle, Wine

1 1

Faunal, UID

(representing 269 MNI) and 133 fragments of faunal material were recovered from Level 4. The following

n/a

Furniture, Tack

Hardware, Nail

115

Hardware, Nail, Common

Hardware, Nail, Finishing

Hardware, Nail, Spike

Hardware, Screw, Wood Household Accessory, Flower Pot

1 1

Household Accessory, UID

Lighting, Lamp, Chimney

Personal, Chamber Pot

Personal, Curio, Petrified Wood

Personal, Mirror

Personal, Music, Harmonica

Stone, Cobble

Tableware, Bowl Tableware, Bowl, Sugar

2 1

Tableware, Cup

Tableware, Cup, Tea

Tableware, Drinking Glass, Cup Tableware, Flatware Tableware, Hollowware Tableware, Plate Tableware, UID Tobacco, Pipe Toy, Doll Toy, Doll, China Head Toy, Figurine Toy, Marble UID, Glass UID, Metal Utilitarian, Hollowware Utilitarian, Jug

1 2 4 9 3 2 0 2 1 3 1 3 9 1 Total

discussion is organized by functional type and provides information as needed in interpreting patterns, sequences of events, or other archaeological phenomena, as well as highlighting artifacts of special note. Table 2-1 presents the same data summarized in terms of Object Names and minimum counts.

PERSONAL ITEMS Including subcategories, a total of 39 artifacts were recovered from Level 4 belonging to the Personal group, representing 28 individual items. Objects

270

not belonging to a subcategory were stem fragments from two kaolin / ball clay tobacco pipes (one plain, one molded with â&#x20AC;&#x153;... 69

MEIS … // … ES ...”, an unidentifiable mark), two small fragments of petrified wood, mirror fragments, and a harmonica marked “SUPERIOR / BRASS REEDS / 1878” made by M. Hohner.

CLOTHING Clothing-related items consisted of nine artifacts representing nine individual items: two brass grommets, a 2-piece dome copper button, a 4-hole disc bone button, a 4hole disc shell button, three 4-hole disc prosser buttons, and a highly-decorated goldplated copper women's separable collar button.

SEWING A one-inch copper straight pin with a dome head made up the Personal-Sewing subcategory.

FIREARMS Five artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal-Firearms group, representing five individual items and three different calibers of ammunition: two .22 caliber rimfire long cartridge cases (one produced by Union Metallic Cartridge Co., the other by Peter's Cartridge Co.), a .41 caliber rimfire cartridge case produced by Union Metallic Cartridge Co., and two unmarked .44 caliber centerfire cartridge cases.

HYGIENE The Personal-Hygiene subgroup was represented by a 1/2-ounce medicinal / pharmaceutical bottle and an undecorated whiteware chamber pot with a rim diameter of 11-inches. Figure 2-8. Cast lead carousel horse (#11D-94), likely part of a music box, recovered from Stratum 11D (Level 4).

ORNAMENTAL No artifacts belonging to the

Personal-Ornamental subgroup were recovered.

TOYS A minimum of six toys were recovered: three unglazed terracotta marbles, two china-head style dolls (one parian, one overglaze-painted refined porcelain), and a small unpainted cast lead carousel horse (Figure 2-8), likely belonging to a music box. The horse had a hole through the center for the carousel pole.

KITCHEN ITEMS A total of 239 artifacts recovered from Level 4 belonged to the Kitchen group, representing 45 distinct objects. Table 2-2 summarizes the Kitchen group ceramic data in terms of decorative style/technique, while the following discussion focuses on object form/function.

TABLEWARE

Table 2-2. Summary of Ceramic Kitchen Group Artifacts from Stratum 11D, Level 4, Sorted by Surface Decorative Style/Technique MNI

Decorative Style/Technique Porcelain

A minimum of 31 objects fell within the

Refined Painted, Overglaze, Polychrome

Painted, Overglaze, Polychrome Chinese Export

Soft

Colorless Glaze

Stoneware

Kitchen-Tableware subgroup. Eleven

Graniteware

Alkaline Glazed

drinking vessels of glass

and ceramic were

Earthenware Pearlware Molded Whiteware Rockingham Ware

Annular / Banded, Slipped – Trailed

Annular / Banded, Slipped – Trailed – Cat's Eye

Plain / Colorless Glaze

Slipped, Glazed

Slipped, Unglazed

Mineral Slip Transfer Printed, Underglaze, Monochrome

1 7

Spatter Ware

Painted, Underglaze, Polychrome

Edge Decorated

Opaque Glaze

UID

recovered. The assemblage included nine cups/mugs: one of undecorated graniteware, one a pearlware cup with a

Yellowware Plain / Colorless Glaze

1 Total

molded band around the

rim, and seven whiteware cups with various decorative techniques. Two of the whiteware cups were annular / banded slip-trailed with cat's eye designs, two were annular / banded slip-trailed line designs, one was undecorated, one had a black opaque glaze, one was underglaze painted in a red unidentified geometric design, and the last was underglaze transferprinted in a red floral design. Not related to this last cup was a transferprinted underglaze whiteware tea cup also with a red floral design. The last drinking vessel was an octagonal pressed, leaded-glass cup. Three whiteware bowls were recovered. Of the two table bowls, one was blue spatter-ware and the other underglaze painted in a “streaky” design accentuating the

brush strokes. The third was a sugar bowl with lavender underglaze transferprinting in a floral design. Nine plates were recovered, seven of whiteware, one yellowware, and one of soft porcelain. The porcelain plate was decorated with a red flower painted overglaze. The fragment was too small to measure the diameter. The yellowware plate had a colorless glaze and measured 7-inches in diameter. Of the whiteware plates, two were 10-inch, two were 8-inch, and three were of indeterminate size. Three of these plates were undecorated, one was green edgeware, and three were underglaze transferprinted, one in a brown floral design and two in geometric designs (one green, one brown). Six tableware fragments could only be identified at the flatware/hollowware level. The two flatware items were both underglaze transferprinted whitewares. Of the four hollowware items, one was pressed glass, one was a polychrome overglaze painted refined porcelain in a floral design, one was underglaze painted in the “NC Flowers” pattern, and the last a blue underglaze transferprinted floral whiteware. Three additional tablewares were recovered, but the fragments were too small to determine if they were flatware or hollowware. Each had a surface decoration not found on any other tableware items from the deposit. The first, a whiteware, had a polychrome underglaze painted floral design, the second, also a whiteware, was identified as Rockingham ware, and the third was a fragment of Chinese export porcelain.

UTILITARIAN A minimum of 14 items fell within the Kitchen-Utilitarian subgroup. Bottles included a cylindrical olive-colored bottle, a dark olive (“black glass”) wine bottle, and a

crown cap bottle closure. The buff-paste coarse earthenware jug was slip decorated in reddish-orange, green, and white colors with possible mica inclusions in the glaze. The remaining nine items were classified as hollowware. Four of the hollowwares were of alkaline-glazed stoneware. The other five hollowwares were earthenware, one turned with a brown mineral slip, two with opaque glazes (one green, one light green), and two were unglazed with green and yellowish-green slips.

ARCHITECTURAL ITEMS A total of 368 artifacts (175 MNI) related to architecture were recovered from Level 4, most representing nails (360 artifacts, 172 MNI). Both cut and wire nails were recovered. Of the common nails, 115 were wire and 52 were cut. Four cut finishing nails were found, along with a cut spike. Two thicknesses of window glass were recovered: one fragment of 1/8-inch glass, and two fragments of 1/16-inch glass.

INTERIOR No architecture-related artifacts unambiguously associated with the interior of a structure were recovered.

EXTERIOR Architecture-related artifacts unambiguously associated with the exterior of a structure consisted of five fragments of slate tile. The tile could be either roofing or paving.

DOMESTIC ITEMS

Table 2-3. Summary of Artifacts from Stratum 11J, Level 5 Sorted by Object Name and MNI Object Name

A total of 34 Domestic group MNI

Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .22 Caliber

Architecture, Glass, Window

Architecture, Plaster

Clothing, Button, 4-Hole

Clothing, Dress Weight Clothing, Grommet

1 1

Communication, Pencil, Holder

Container, Bottle

Container, Bottle, Wine

Container, Can, Closure, Lid, Non-Screw

Container, Can, Square / Rectangular

Faunal, Shell, Oyster

Faunal, UID Flora, Seed, UID

n/a 2

Hardware, Nail

Hardware, Nail, Braid

Hardware, Nail, Common

Hardware, Nail, Tack

Hardware, Strap

Hardware, Washer

Lighting, Lamp, Chimney Personal, Coin, Penny

1 1

Tableware, Bowl

Tableware, Cup

Tableware, Hollowware

Tableware, UID

Tobacco, Pipe, Pamplin-Style

Toy, Ball, Bouncy, Hollow

Toy, Doll, China Head

Toy, Marble UID, Composite

1 1

UID, Metal

UID, Stone

1 Total

artifacts were recovered from Level 4, representing a minimum of eight objects. Two lamp chimneys were found, both with scalloped rims. Also found was a brass furniture tack with a square shank, an unglazed terracotta flowerpot, and an unidentified fragment from a parian decorative object. ELECTRICAL ITEMS No artifacts associated with electricity were recovered.

OTHER ITEMS Also recovered from Level 4 were

a number of artifacts that do not fit neatly

into any of the above functional categories. Not included here are artifacts classified as 'Unidentified'—mostly bits of metal that have no discernible form. Seven glass bottles fall under the “Other Items” heading. All were too highly fragmented to allow further identification. Only one hardware-related item was found—a fragment of a 1/8-inch diameter wood screw. The last item was a quartz cobble, split cleanly in half. The cobble is not necessarily culturally significant, but does represent the only quartz cobble encountered at the site. 75

DESCRIPTION OF THE ARTIFACTS: LEVEL 5 (11J) A full description of the artifacts found in Level 5 (11J) is detailed in Appendix D. A total of 206 artifacts (representing 66 MNI), two unidentified seeds, and 47 fragments of faunal material were recovered from the level. The following discussion is organized by functional type and provides information as needed in interpreting patterns, sequences of events, or other archaeological phenomena, as well as highlighting artifacts of special note. Table 2-3 presents the same data summarized in terms of Object Names and minimum counts.

PERSONAL ITEMS Including subcategories, a total of 16 artifacts were recovered from Level 5 belonging to the Personal group, representing 13 individual items. Items not belonging to a subcategory included a molded Pamplin-style tobacco pipe with a red opaque glaze, two pencil holders, and an 1863 penny. One of the pencil holders was of copper, containing a round wood pencil with an eraser on the end. The other holder was a split copper tube in a rib-molded rubber sleeve containing a round wood pencil. As mentioned previously, the penny was found directly underneath the brick foundation on the southeast corner of the lunch counter.

CLOTHING Three clothing-related items were found: an iron 4-hole disc button, a 1-1/2-inch diameter cast lead dress weight, and a brass grommet.

SEWING No artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal-Sewing subcategory.

FIREARMS Three .22 caliber rimfire Figure 4-9. Composite-molded, hollow rubber “bouncy” ball (#11J-33) recovered from Stratum 11J (Level 5).

cartridge cases constituted the Personal-Firearms group. One cartridge case had an unreadable

mark, one was produced by the Union Metallic Cartridge Co., and the last had a bird mark belonging to the Braun and Bloem Co. of Düsseldorf, Germany.

HYGIENE No artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal-Hygiene subgroup.

ORNAMENTAL No artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal-Ornamental subgroup.

TOYS Three toys were recovered: an unglazed kaolin / ball clay marble, a fragment from a painted parian china-head style doll, and a hollow rubber “bouncy” ball. The 2-1/8inch diameter ball was composite-molded to represent a red-and-white number 11 billiard ball (Figure 2-9). 77

Table 2-4. Summary of Ceramic Kitchen Group Artifacts from Stratum 11J, Level 5, Sorted by Surface Decorative Style/Technique MNI

Decorative Style/Technique Porcelain Refined

KITCHEN ITEMS A total of 39

Painted, Overglaze, Monochrome

Earthenware

artifacts recovered from

Whiteware Opaque Glaze Plain / Colorless Glaze

2 1

Flow Transfer Printed

Transfer Printed, Underglaze, Monochrome

2 Total

Level 5 belonged to the Kitchen group, representing 11 distinct

objects. Table 2-4 summarizes the Kitchen group ceramic data in terms of decorative style/technique, while the following discussion focuses on object form/function.

TABLEWARE A minimum of six objects fell within the Kitchen-Tableware subgroup. The assemblage included two cups. One cup was refined porcelain decorated with an overglaze painted blue band around the base. The other cup was redware with an exterior brown glaze, an interior white glaze, and a molded band of stippled dots around the rim. The single bowl was undecorated whiteware with a rim diameter of 7-inches. The two hollowware vessels were whiteware, one decorated with a flown blue design and the other with an egg-blue opaque glaze on the exterior. The last items could not be classified as either hollowware or flatwareâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a fragment of blue underglaze transferprinted pearlware.

UTILITARIAN A minimum of five items fell within the Kitchen-Utilitarian subgroup. All were highly fragmented. The utilitarian assemblage contained two cylindrical bottles, a plain 78

oval bottle, a dark olive (â&#x20AC;&#x153;black glassâ&#x20AC;?) wine bottle, and fragments from a square/rectangular can.

ARCHITECTURAL ITEMS A total of 50 artifacts (27 MNI) related to architecture were recovered from Level 5. Three thicknesses of window glass were found: 5/64-inch (one fragment), 1/16-inch (two fragments), and 1/32-inch (six fragments). All nails were machine cut and included 21 common and two braid nails.

INTERIOR Architecture-related artifacts unambiguously associated with the interior of structures were represented by a single fragment of white plaster.

EXTERIOR No architecture-related artifacts unambiguously associated with the exterior of a structure were recovered.

DOMESTIC ITEMS The only Domestic group artifacts were 22 fragments of a lamp chimney.

ELECTRICAL ITEMS As expected for such an early stratum, no artifacts associated with electricity were recovered.

OTHER ITEMS Also recovered from the Lower level were a number of artifacts that do not fit neatly into any of the above functional categories. Not Figure 2-10. East profile of Unit 12. Width of unit is 5 feet.

included here are artifacts classified as

'Unidentified'â&#x20AC;&#x201D;mostly bits of metal that have no discernible form. Two bottles were found of unidentifiable form/function, as well as fragments from a press-fit can lid, a 1/2inch long wire tack (non-furniture), three widths of iron packaging strap material, and a 1/16-inch thick round iron washer with an OD of 1-3/4-inch and an ID of 5/8-inch.

UNIT 12 Using the 1904 Sanborn map as a guide, Unit 12 was placed directly over the indicated north wall, 17 feet north of the sidewalk. Instead of a north wall, however, a large trash pit, a series of post holes/molds unrelated to the wall, and a large pit feature related to the early occupation of the site were encountered. Levels 1-5 (Figure 2-10) are all associated with post-1970s activities. Level 1 (12A) was a very dark brown loose sandy loam, 0.2 feet thick. Level 2 (12B), 0.51 feet thick, was a dark brown sandy silt mottled with yellowish red compact sandy clay. Level 3 (12C) was a yellowish red compact sandy clay, 0.64 feet thick, consistent with disturbances associated with the 80

1974 renovation of the 1403 Richland Street house. Level 4 (12D), 0.74 feet thick, also composed of yellowish red compact sandy clay, is likely a continuation of Level 3 but was assigned an arbitrary provenience designation in the Figure 2-11. Planview map of Unit 12 at the top of Level 6 (12K). Width of unit is 5 feet.

field due to the presence of possible features. Three

features (12E, 12F, 12G) were mapped and excavated. Feature 12E was a non-significant shallow depression associated with post-1970 activities. John Sherrer (pers. com. 2006) suggests that Features 12F and 12G are locations of rose bushes planted after 1970, an interpretation consistent with feature fill, in each case a very loose yellowish brown sandy loam. Due to its compactness, screening of Level 4 was abandoned, although nonsystematic collection of diagnostic artifacts continued. Level 5 (12H), 0.42 feet thick, composed of reddish black loose sandy loam containing mixed architectural debris, is likely the remains of the post1909 occupation layer (discussed below) disturbed by post-1970 activities. The above five strata overlaid two undisturbed strata (12K and 12U). Level

Figure 2-12. Southwest corner of Unit 12 at the surface of Level 7 (12U). 81

6 (12K), 0.48 feet thick, composed of mottled dark yellowish brown sandy silt, represents the upper-most undisturbed layer in Unit 12. Numerous features were associated with Level 6 (Figure 2-11). Feature 12L, a shallow depression 0.02 feet deep, measuring 1.1feet east-west and 1.05 feet north-south, composed of very dark grayish brown loose sandy silt, is likely plant related. Feature 12M has the same composition as 12L and is also likely plant related, measuring 0.55 feet east-west, 0.75 feet north-south, and 0.08 feet deep. Feature 12J was a postmold measuring 0.5 feet (six inches) in diameter, extending 2.25 feet below the surface of Level 6. Feature 12W was a rounded square posthole associated with 12J, measuring 1.6 feet north-south and an estimated east-west dimension of the same. Both 12J and 12W were bisected along the center north-south axis to expose a profile of the features (Figure 2-12). Although 12J and 12W are part of the same feature complex, and postmold 12J was clearly defined at the top of Level 6, posthole 12W was first visible on the surface of Level 7. A likely explanation for their differing stratigraphic visibility is the result of landscaping activities that left the post intact (12J) but erased the upper portion of the posthole (12W). In other words, the landscaping went around the post. Later, when the post was removed and further landscaping occurred (which created Level 5), the top of the postmold become associated with the top of Level 6, since Level 5 covered both Level 6 and the postmold. One of the most exciting finds at the site was a large, incredibly well preserved trash pit in Unit 12 at the surface of Level 6 (Figures 2-10, 11, 13). So as to generate a profile, the pit feature was bisected along an east-west axis at the center of the exposed portion. The pit was composed of two layers: the top-most layer, provenienced separately as 12P (north Â˝, upper) and 12S (south Â˝, upper), 0.25 feet (four inches) thick,

was a dark brown sandy silt, mottled with 50% yellowish red compact sandy clay. The bottom layer, provenienced separately as 12R (north Â˝, lower) and 12T (south Â˝, lower), 2.0 feet thick, was a very dark grayish brown Figure 2-13. Southeast view of Unit 12 postexcavation.

loose sandy silt. Extending into the south and east walls of the

unit, the deposit was a roughly circular pit with a flat/level floor and nearly vertical walls. The soil matrix was very loose throughout the lower layer and very consistent, with a thin lens of charcoal-laden black soil covering the floor of the feature. Level 7 (12U), the bottom most layer, was a yellowish red compact sandy clay. The transition between Levels 6 and 7 was difficult to discern due to the large size of the features present at the top of Level 7, which covered most of the surface of the layer. As a result, the bottom of Level 6 extended into the top of Level 7 approximately 0.1 feet. Given that Level 7 was artifact free, the artifact assemblage of Level 6 was not affected. Three features were associated with Level 7 (Figure 2-14). Feature 12X was a shallow square depression, measuring 0.55 feet east-west and north-south, 0.31 feet deep, composed of dark yellowish brown sandy silt. Function is unknown, but given that it is in-line along a north-south axis square to the lunch counter, it likely represents the base of a posthole obscured through activities associated with the creation of Level 6. Feature 12Y is an oval pit feature with sloping walls of unknown function. Composed of dark

brown sandy silt mottled with 50% yellowish red compact sandy clay, the exposed portion of the pit measured 4.3 feet eastwest, 1.65 feet northsouth, with a depth of 1.19 feet below the surface of Level 7.

Figure 2-14. Planview of Unit 12 at the surface of Level 7 (12U). Width of unit is 5 feet.

DESCRIPTION OF THE ARTIFACTS A full description of the artifacts found in the lunch counter trash pit is detailed in Appendix D. A total of 4,033 artifacts and 1,253.6 grams (1,094 fragments) of faunal material were recovered from the Upper and Lower levels of the deposit. No floral material was recovered. Because of the possibility of intrusive materials in the Upper level and, given the completely different soil matrix, the possibility that some of the artifacts in that level are not associated directly with the lunch counter, only artifacts from the Lower level are presented here and used in analysis. Since the Upper level only contained 312 artifacts, their exclusion does not negatively affect analysis. A total of 3,721 artifacts (representing 1,034 MNI) and 1,084 grams (983 fragments) of faunal

Table 2-5. Summary of Artifacts from Feature 12T, Sorted by Object Name and MNI Object Name Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .22 Caliber Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .32 Caliber Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .38 Caliber Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .40 Caliber Ammunition, Shot, Lead Ammunition, Shotgun Shell, 12 Gauge Architectural, Brick Architectural, Cement / Concrete Architectural, Glass, Window Architectural, Mortar Architectural, Sheet Metal, Corrugated Iron

MNI 3 10 1 2

Object Name Container, Bottle, Food Container, Bottle, Food, Pickles Container, Bottle, Liquor / Whiskey Container, Bottle, Medicinal / Pharmaceutical

MNI 3 4 5 6

Container, Bottle, Shoe Polish

Container, Bottle, Soda Pop / Water

Container, Bottle, Wine

Container, Can Container, Can, Closure, Removable Lid, Press Fit

7 3

Container, Can, Closure, Wind-Strip

Container, Can, Cosmetic

1 13

n/a 1 6 n/a 1

Architectural, Tile, Floor / Wall

Container, Can, Food, Cylindrical

Architectural, Tile, Roofing

Container, Can, Key

Clothing, Bluing Agent

Container, Can, Square / Rectangular

Clothing, Buckle, Belt

Container, Can, Tobacco

Clothing, Buckle, Suspender Clothing, Button

2 1

Container, Can, Tobacco, Snuff Container, Jar, Lid, Preserving

1 2

Clothing, Button, 2-Hole

Container, Jar, Preserving

Clothing, Button, 4-Hole

Electrical, Wire

Clothing, Button, 5-Hole

Electrical, Wire Connector, Molding

Clothing, Button, Loop-Shank

Electrical, Wire, Single Conductor

Clothing, Button, Staff-Type

Fauna, Bone

n/a

1 n/a

Clothing, Clip, Cuff-Holder

Fauna, Egg Shell

Clothing, Grommet

Food Preparation, Baking Dish

Clothing, Hat Pin Clothing, Rivet

1 1

Food Preparation, Cooking Pot, Lid Hardware, Bolt

2 1

Clothing, Safety Pin

Hardware, Bolt, Counter-Sunk Carriage

Clothing, Shoe Horn

Hardware, Bolt, Saw

Clothing, Shoe, Grommet

Hardware, Bracket, Angle

Clothing, Shoe, Sole

Hardware, Chain, Lap-Link

Clothing, Snap

Hardware, Collar

Clothing, Straight Pin

Hardware, Cotter Pin

Communication, Pencil, Graphite Communication, Telephone, Receiver Hook

2 1

Hardware, Handle, Door Pull Hardware, Handle, Door Ring

1 1

Container, Bottle

Hardware, Handle, Drawer

Container, Bottle, Beverage

Hardware, Handle, Drawer Pull

Container, Bottle, Bitters

Hardware, Hinge, Blind Hinge Hook

Container, Bottle, Closure, Crown Cap

Hardware, Hinge, Butt, Shutter

Container, Bottle, Closure, Lighting Stopper

Hardware, Hinge, Rolled Plate Hinge

Container, Bottle, Closure, Peg Stopper

Hardware, Hook, Box Latch

Container, Bottle, Closure, Screw Cap Container, Bottle, Condiment

4 1

Hardware, Hook, Coat-and-Hat Hardware, Latch, Barn Door

2 1

Container, Bottle, Condiment, Iced Tea Tumbler

Hardware, Lock, Bolt

Container, Bottle, Condiment, Jelly/Mustard Tumbler

Hardware, Lock, Key, Lever Tumbler

Container, Bottle, Condiment, Mustard

Hardware, Lock, Rim Lock

Container, Bottle, Condiment, Spice / Extract

Hardware, Lumber

Container, Bottle, Cosmetic

Hardware, Nail

Container, Bottle, Cosmetic, Perfume/Cologne

Hardware, Nail, Braid

Container, Bottle, Cosmetic, Skin Lightener

Hardware, Nail, Common

1 129 4 308

material were recovered from the Lower level. The following discussion is organized by 85

Table 2-5 (continued). Summary of Artifacts from Feature 12T, Sorted by Object Name and MNI Object Name

MNI

Object Name

MNI

Hardware, Nail, Finishing

Tableware, Bowl, Salt / Sugar

Hardware, Nail, Roofing Hardware, Nail, Spike

2 15

Tableware, Cup Tableware, Cup, Tea

3 2

Hardware, Nut Hardware, Ring Hardware, Scissors Hardware, Screw, Eye-Screw Hardware, Staple Hardware, Strap Hardware, Washer Hardware, Window, Shutter Dog Hardware, Wire, Bailing Household Accessory, Candle Stick Holder Household Accessory, Flowerpot Household Accessory, Lettering Lighting, Arc, Carbon Rod Lighting, Lamp, Chimney Lighting, Socket, Light Bulb Machinery, Gasket Paper, Newspaper Personal, Bead Personal, Handbag Personal, Jewelry, Bracelet Personal, Jewelry, Pendent/Earring Personal, Jewelry, Wire Personal, Pin-Back Personal, Umbrella Personal, Water Pitcher / Ewer Plumbing, Pipe, Fitting, End Cap Plumbing, Pipe, Sewer Tableware, Bowl

1 1 1 2 4 5 1 1 3 1 1 1 1 6 1 1 1 11 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1

Tableware, Drinking Glass Tableware, Drinking Glass, Goblet Tableware, Drinking Glass, Stemware Tableware, Drinking Glass, Tumbler Tableware, Flatware Tableware, Hollowware Tableware, Plate Tableware, Plate, Serving Tableware, Saucer Tableware, Unidentified Tableware, Utensil, Fork, 3-Prong Tableware, Utensil, Knife Tableware, Utensil, Spoon Tobacco, Pipe Tobacco, Pipe, Pamplin-Style Tool, Scale, Balance Weight Toy, Coin Bank Toy, Figurine Toy, Tea Set Unidentified, Glass Unidentified, Metal Unidentified, Metal, Disc Unidentified, Sheet Metal Utilitarian, Hollowware Utilitarian, Jar / Bottle Utilitarian, Vessel

2 1 1 4 1 5 9 1 4 1 1 4 4 1 1 1 1 1 1 n/a n/a 4 n/a 1 1 1 Total

1,034

material were recovered from the Lower level. The following discussion is organized by functional type and provides information as needed in interpreting patterns, sequences of events, or other archaeological phenomena, as well as highlighting artifacts of special note found in the lunch counter deposit. Table 2-5 presents the same data summarized in terms of Object Names and minimum counts.

PERSONAL ITEMS TEMS Including subcategories, a total of 168 artifacts were recovered from the Lower level belonging to the Personal group, representing 133 individual items. Items not belonging to a subcategory were quite varied. Two fragments of graphite pencil lead

were foundâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;one square, one cylindrical. The mold lines of the cylindrical lead were visible, giving it a TPQ date of 1876. Also related to writing was a brass, ink bottle screw-cap closure. The cast iron, right-handed, 7-inch straight scissors could alternately be placed in the Personal-Sewing category. The riveted, brass clasp of a woman's handbag was found (#12T-241), along with a carved bone spine tip from an umbrella. Fragments from a white, molded graniteware water pitcher or ewer were also recovered, as well as a one pound cast iron balance weight for a scale (#12T-52). Four tobacco-related artifacts were recovered, including two pipe fragments. The first was a brown, slip-glazed Pamplin-style (elbow) pipe with molded rib decoration (#12T-206). The second was a molded, buff-paste earthenware pipe, also slip decorated, of unknown type (#12T-342). A rectangular tobacco tin with a flip-top lid (not present) was found, as well as an intact, unopened, lacquered-green snuff tin (#12T-128), measuring 1-11/16-inches in diameter and 11/16-inches tall. Artifact #12T-188 is a most intriguing bottle. The cylindrical bottle measures 1.75-inches diameter and 3-7/8-inches tall. It was cup-bottom molded with a bead finish. Secured with a cork closure attached to a sponge applicator by a length of stiff, twisted wire, 1/3 of the white powder contents are still in the bottle. Given the sponge applicator, the contents were likely originally liquid. I preformed an informal solubility test with a small sample. The results suggested that the powder is alcohol soluble but not water soluble, further suggesting that the contents may have been a glue or adhesive, although the most likely suggestion is that it was a bottle of white shoe polish. Most remarkable, fragments of newspaper were recovered (#12T-258). Several small, evenly spaced holes along the edges of some fragments, like those produced by

staples, suggest that the paper may have been used either as packaging/wrapping or was hung on the wall of the lunch counter. Although the paper is charred, soil stained, and highly fragmented, a few words can still be deciphered.

CLOTHING Clothing-related items were many: 69 artifacts representing 66 individual items. The most surprising artifact Figure 2-15. Advertisement for the "Wizard" brass cuffholder clip (#12T225) recovered from the lunch counter deposit (Carson, Pirie, Scott & Co. 1894:65) (authorâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s collection).

among the clothing assemblage was a small fragment of bluing agent (#12T-255), of the type that would have been purchased as a pressed powder cake. Given its nearly 100 years below ground, it is amazing the powder had not completely dissolved. An 8-inch brass hat pin was also found. Unfortunately, whatever decoration was once attached is gone and did not mate

with any of the recovered artifacts. The hat pin could equally well be classified under the header 'Personal-Ornamentation.' Also found were a stamped, iron shoe horn and the leather heel of a shoe. The shoe heel was pegged with brass, cylindrical-shank nails. The remaining clothing-related items were fasteners. An undecorated, rectangular cast-brass belt buckle was recovered, along with two unmarked iron suspender buckles. A stamped brass cuff-holder clip (#12T-225), engraved with a scroll design, patented in 1889, is a match for the same item illustrated in the 1894 Carson, Pirie, Scott & Co. catalog (Figure 2-15). One unmarked brass clothing rivet was found, along with a steel snap with a pressed or stamped rosette design on the face. Eighteen brass shoe grommets

were found, most likely related to the shoe heel presented earlier. Fourteen of the grommets were attached to ten fragments of shoe leather. Thirty-seven buttons were Figure 2-16. Identical brass buttons with an Oriental scene of French origins recovered from the lunch counter deposit.

in the trash pit, the majority being sew-through type buttons. Of the

14 shell buttons, 10 were 2-hole and 4 were 4-hole types. All but one was smooth and undecorated. The one decorated shell button was painted black (#12T-309). Six buttons were made of bone. Four of these were 4-hole, one was a 5-hole button, and one fragmented button was indeterminate. Only one of the dry-pressed ceramic (prosser) buttons was of the 2-hole variety, the remaining six being 4-hole types. Four porcelain (non-prosser) buttons had loop-shanks; each was white and dome-shaped. Only one hard rubber button was found: a 27/32-inch diameter 2-hole type with a molded starburst pattern on the face, manufactured by the Novelty Rubber Company between 1855 and 1870. The face of a 2-piece brass button was undecorated. A 1-piece cast brass button of the 4-hole variety had a geometric pattern composed of ropes on its face. A 2-piece, brass, staff-type button was decorated with the South Carolina State Seal on its face (#12T-325). The staff-type button was manufactured by Horstmann of Philadelphia between 1893 and 1935. The remaining two identical buttons were particularly intriguing (#12T-375 & 376). Of the 2-piece, loop-shank variety, with brass faces and

iron backings, these two buttons depict an Oriental scene with French origins (Figure 2-16).

SEWING The dome head from an Figure 2-17. Two modified .22 caliber cartridge cases. The bodies of the cartridges were cut-off and the heads thrown away.

iron straight pin, a brass straight pin bent in the shape of an 'L', and

five safety pins made up the Personal-Sewing subcategory. Made of zinc, four of the safety pins were an early style introduced in 1857. The fifth was a brass plated safety pin with a spring-guard head – the common type manufactured today – a design patented in 1889 (#12T-252).

FIREARMS Eighteen artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal-Firearms group, representing 18 individual items, composed of five different calibers of ammunition and a single example of 5/16-inch lead shot. All metallic cartridge dates and information are based on the work of Kathleen A. Clardy (2008). Headstamp identification is from White and Munhall, 1963. Three .22 caliber rimfire cartridge cases were recovered, two of brass, one of copper. The copper case was a BB Cap with an unidentified headstamp—a cartridge introduced in 1857 for the Smith and Wesson revolver, considered the first American metallic cartridge (#12T-231). The two brass cases are particularly interesting, as only the heads were recovered. Cartridge #12T-63 was manufactured by Union Metallic Cartridge Company between 1871 and 1902. Cartridge #12T-232 was 90

unmarked. The bodies of the cartridges were cut-off (Figure 2-17). Similarly modified cartridges were recovered across the site, suggesting that someone was interested in obtaining short lengths of small-diameter copper tubing, possibly for use as a tubular bead. The jewelry-making hypothesis is supported by artifacts from other provenances of the same time period, including a length of thin-gauge copper wire wound around a fragment of pink coral, discussed in a subsequent section. Ten .32 caliber cartridge cases were recovered. One brass rimfire cartridge case had the body cut off (#12T-213), in the same manner as the above mentioned .22 caliber cartridges. Including this modified case, three were rimfire, seven were centerfire. The centerfire cartridges used Bar Anvil primers, a re-loadable primer type introduced in 1880. Three of the .32 caliber centerfire cartridges were manufactured by the Savage Arms Company and one by the Peters Cartridge Company. The others were either unmarked or the headstamps were unreadable. A single .38 caliber brass centerfire cartridge case was recovered (#12T-229). This caliber was introduced in 1864. No head stamp was present. Also recovered were two .40 caliber cartridge cases. Neither had head stamps. The first case (#12T-233), made of copper, was rimfire, the second (#12T-228), made of brass, was centerfire. Both are represented by heads only, as the bodies had been removed. An unfired 12 gauge shotgun shell (#12T-60), marked â&#x20AC;&#x153;New Cubâ&#x20AC;?, manufactured by the Union Metallic Cartridge Company between 1867 and 1902, was recovered. This was the only shotgun-related artifact recovered from the site.

The last firearms-related artifact was a 5/16-inch diameter lead shot. This was a bit puzzling at first, since it is too large to be shotgun shot, and the use of an early rifle firing such shot seemed unlikely. Not until I spent time in the library at Winterthur Estate in Delaware, browsing through trade catalogs related to clothing, did I realize that such shot was most likely used as dress or men's jacket weights. Lead shot would have been sewn into the hem of a garment to weigh it down.

Figure 2-18. A bottle of "White Life" brand skin lightener recovered from the lunch counter deposit (#12T-257).

HYGIENE A minimum of 11 bottles and one tin belonged to the Personal-Hygiene subgroup. Six

of the bottles were general medicinal or pharmaceutical. Forms included two panel bottles, one Millville Round, one Philadelphia Oval, and two Golden Gate Oval bottles. The base of a cylindrical milk-glass bottle of diameter 2.5-inches likely held a cosmetic product, while the small ball-top peg stopper matches those used on perfume and cologne bottles. A small, 1-inch tall, German cologne-style bottle was embossed with â&#x20AC;&#x153;HOYT'S / 10 Â˘ / COLOGNEâ&#x20AC;?, manufactured by E.W. Hoyt, of Lowell, Massachusetts, starting in 1877. One bottle was represented by two fragments of cobalt-blue glass (#12T-178). Its form and contents are unknown. 92

The last Personal-Hygiene bottle (#12T-257) is one of the most intriguing, rare, and surprising discoveries from the entire site—a bottle of “White Life” brand skin lightener (Figure 2-18). Only because of the extraordinary preservation conditions of the deposit do we know of the bottle's contents. Much of the paper label, likely secured with fish-glue, was still intact. Had the label not survived, all we would know is that it was a colorless glass, French Square-style bottle, 1-1/8-inch square, 3-1/2-inches high, cupbottom molded with a patent finish. The significance of the bottle in terms of the MannSimons family, and the social context in general, is discussed in Chapter 5. A small, intact tin, measuring 2-3/8-inches in diameter and 1-inch tall, may have held soap or a powdered cosmetic (#12T-139).

ORNAMENTAL Seventeen artifacts belonging to the Personal-Ornamental subgroup were recovered, representing 15 individual objects. The majority of ornamental items (11) were glass beads. Four of the beads were round, two white and one light blue, one was a black hexagonal bead, and six were small seed beads—three white, two blue, and one black. Also recovered was what appears to be a handmade, terra cotta pendent or earring—a sphere of diameter 9/16-inch with a broken iron pin/shank (#12T-246). Two articulated links of a stamped copper Art Deco-style bracelet were also found in the deposit (#12T-377). A type or style name for the bracelet is unknown at this time. The last ornamental item was a 1-1/4-inch diameter pin-back made of iron with a brass pin (#12T-54). Unfortunately, the face of the pin-back was too corroded to determine what it once was, or even to determine if it was lithographed or celluloid decorated.

Three lengths of 26-gauge copper wire, wound into rough, two-inch loops were likely related to jewelry making. The hypothesis for jewelry making is based on a recovered piece of pink coral secured with a length of the same wire. Unfortunately, the coral piece was found Figure 2-19. Cast iron bank manufactured by the A.C. Williams Co. recovered from the within a disturbed context, so no direct lunch counter deposit. temporal correlation is possible. But, 1) given the type of wire, 2) the association of the pink coral/wire piece with the site, and 3) the harvesting of small brass and copper tubes from used ammunition, jewelry making is probable.

TOYS Three toys were recovered: the upper body and head of a painted, overglaze 'Frozen Charlotte' type porcelain figurine (#12T-340); a 7/8-inch tall cast pewter ewer from a child's tea set (#12T-196); and a cast iron coin bank (#12T-164). Manufactured by the A.C Williams Company of Ravenna, Ohio, between 1893 and 1937, the coin bank was finely cast in the form of a bank building, with the word â&#x20AC;&#x153;BANKâ&#x20AC;? over the door and traces of gold paint within some of the recesses (Figure 2-19). According to the company webpage, these coin banks were common items in five-and-dime stores across the nation. A.C. Williams had a reputation for producing finely-cast toys, but with the Great Depression and subsequent slump in toy sales, they shifted their focus and began

producing cast gears and

Table 2-6. Summary of Ceramic Kitchen Group Artifacts from Feature 12T, Sorted by Decorative Style/Technique MNI

Decorative Style/Technique Porcelain

other precision mechanical parts. They are still in

Refined Molded Painted, Overglaze, Monochrome

1 1

Decalcomania, Underglaze

Gilded, Liquid Gold

Sponge / Spatter

Plain / Colorless Glaze

Stoneware

business today.

KITCHEN ITEMS

Graniteware Molded

Alkaline Glazed Salt Glazed

1 1

Earthenware

A total of 1,491 artifacts recovered from

Whiteware Annular / Banded, Slipped â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Trailed

Plain / Colorless Glaze

Flow Transfer Printed

Gilded, Liquid Gold

Molded Transfer Printed, Underglaze, Monochrome

2 3

Painted, Overglaze, Monochrome

Painted, Underglaze, Polychrome

Edge Decorated

the Lower level belonged to the Kitchen group, representing 165 distinct objects. Not surprisingly,

Yellowware Plain / Colorless Glaze

1 Total

kitchen-related items

made up the majority of items recovered from the lunch counter deposit. Table 2-6 summarizes the Kitchen group ceramic data in terms of decorative style/technique, while the following discussion focuses on object form/function.

TABLEWARE A minimum of 44 objects fell within the Kitchen-Tableware subgroup. Nine utensils were recovered: a 3-prong, undecorated, iron table fork (#12T-62); four undecorated iron table spoons (#12T-67, 68, 69, 79); and at least four table knives. Three of the knives had wood handles over iron cores, the fourth had an undecorated bone handle (#12T-243). Only one of the knives was complete: a medium table knife with a 5-

1/4-inch long iron blade and a 3-3/4-inch long wood handle with white-metal ends (#12T-259). Thirteen drinking vessels of glass and ceramic were recovered. The assemblage included three cups/mugs, two of which were undecorated whiteware and the other undecorated graniteware. Two whiteware tea cups were also found, one undecorated, and one minimally decorated with a single 'liquid gold' band around the rim. Two indeterminate drinking glasses of pressed leaded glass were also found. One glass had a Bull's Eye & Flute design (#12T-292), the other a plain Flute design (#12T-289). They may have been goblets. Also made of leaded glass was a stemware glass, represented by its foot and stem (#12T-291). The pressed glass goblet had a Hobnail design (#12T-266). Given that these objects represent materials from the lunch counter, the one identified and two potential goblets may have been used as ice-cream dishes or something similar. The remaining four drinking vessels were glass tumblers. One tumbler was undecorated (#12T-275), two were impressed with a Prism design (#12T-281, 282), and the last was decorated with an impressed Bohemian design (#12T-276). Only two bowls were recovered: a 10-inch diameter, blue, annular/banded, sliptrail decorated whiteware serving or small mixing bowl (#12T-336), and a plain, octagonal, refined porcelain, footed salt or sugar bowl (#12T-353). Unlike bowls, there were a considerable number of plates in the deposit. A minimum of four saucers were represented. Two had a diameter of 6-inches. Both of these were of high-fired whiteware decorated with a single band of 'liquid gold' around the rim (#12T-11, 352). A third saucer had a diameter of 4-inches, was whiteware, and decorated with a transfer-printed lavender floral design (#12T-335). The fourth saucer,

also whiteware, with a foot-ring diameter of 3-inches, was one of the only examples of decalcomania decoration. Underglaze, this polychrome pattern was also floral. One serving plate was recoveredâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;an undecorated whiteware plate with a foot ring diameter of 7-inches (#12T-30). Nine table plates were recoveredâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;six 10-inch diameter plates, one 8-inch plate, and two plates of indeterminate size. The two indeterminate plates were both undecorated refined porcelain. The 8-inch plate was plain with a scalloped rim (#12T-5). This plate, as evidenced by the maker's mark, was produced by the Cook Pottery Company, of Trenton, New Jersey, between 1900 and 1910 (DeBolt 1998:23). One 10inch plate was undecorated refined porcelain (#12T-357). The remaining five 10-inch plates were whiteware. Two were undecorated (#12T-364, 373), one was blue transferprinted in the Willow pattern (#12T-337), one was minimally decorated with a single band of 'liquid gold' around the rim (#12T-369), and the last was blue feather-edge decorated (#12T-334). Two additional plate fragments had maker's marks, although it is unknown to which rim fragments they belong. The first mark (#12T-8) belonged to the Edwin Bennett Pottery Company, of Baltimore, Maryland, and was produced between 1897 and 1904 (DeBolt 1988:16). The second mark (#12T-6) belonged to the CC Thompson Pottery Company, of East Liverpool, Ohio, and had a production date beginning in 1905 (DeBolt 1988:70). Six tableware fragments could only be identified at the flatware/hollowware level. A small, undecorated, whiteware rim fragment of a flatware table item that did not match any other tableware was identified (#12T-372). The fragment was too small to determine rim diameter. Of the five hollowware fragments, one was green transfer-printed

whiteware of indeterminate pattern (#12T-333), one was painted, underglaze whiteware, in a floral pattern, of what I'm calling the North Carolina Flower pattern (#12T-338), one was plain scalloped-edge whiteware (#12T-365), one was blue flow transfer-printed whiteware (#12T-332), and the last was pink sponge/spatter painted refined porcelain (#12T-345). An additional piece of hollowware (#12T-2), marked â&#x20AC;&#x153;Priscillaâ&#x20AC;?, was made by the Glasgow Pottery, of Trenton, New Jersey, between 1895 and 1905 (DeBolt 1988:34). An unidentified tableware fragment (#12T-7) was also produced by the Glasgow Pottery, this piece between 1901 and 1905 (Lehner 1988:172). The fragment was too small to determine if it was a flat or hollowware object.

UTILITARIAN A minimum of 121 items fell within the Kitchen-Utilitarian subgroup. Unlike deposits associated with domestic activities, utilitarian ceramic vessels were very few. But, unlike its domestic counterparts, the lunch counter deposit contained metal utilitarian vessels. This makes sense. If you drop a ceramic vessel, it breaks. If you drop a metal vessel, it remains intact. The market shift to metal vessels, explored in Chapter 4, is a type of negative evidence in archaeology. Only because of the unique conditions that created the lunch counter deposit do we have metal vessels. One body fragment of gray, salt-glazed stoneware, two fragments of green, alkaline-glazed stoneware with a rim diameter of 4-inches, and six fragments from a hollow, yellowware vessel made up the complete utilitarian ceramic assemblage. Metal utilitarian vessels included 9 x 9 x 2-inch baking dish with riveted handles (#12T-296),

which could also have been used as a drip-pan. Also recovered were two pot lids, one for a six-inch pot (#12T-297), and the other for an eight-inch pot (#12T-160). The pots themselves were not recovered, although they may have been in the portion of the trash pit not excavated. A minimum of 16 commercial food bottles were recovered—five condiment bottles, four spice bottles, four pickle bottles, and three generic food bottles. Given that many bottles would have had paper labels, likely the number is greater. The condiment bottles included two barrel-shaped mustard bottles, one embossed with “Chars. Gulden, New York” (#12T-268), first produced in 1874. Gulden is still making mustard today. A jelly or mustard tumbler (#12T-279) and an iced tea tumbler (#12T-278) were also recovered. 'Iced tea' refers to the industry name for the bottle style, not its contents. It was a general-use condiment bottle. The last was a press-and-blow machine made bottle with a 1-inch tall cap-seat finish (#12T-27). This, too, was a general-use condiment bottle. The four spice or extract bottles were all cup-bottom molded panel bottles with patent finishes. Had they not been embossed with a company name, they each would have been classified as likely patent medicine bottles—a good cautionary tale. Each of the spice/extract bottles was produced by McCormick & Company, of Baltimore, Maryland, the large spice company still in business today. Based on the style of the maker's mark, they were made sometime after 1896. Unfortunately, contents are unknown. Four pickle bottles were recovered, three made with a press-and-blow machine and one with an automatic bottle machine. All had cap-seat finishes. The three press-

and-blow bottles were cylindrical, 3-3/16-inch tall, with a diameter of 1-5/8-inches. The fourth was a clear-green, wide-mouth, hexagonal bottle, 6-inches tall and 2-5/8-inches wide (#12T-18). The base of the hexagonal bottle was embossed with “Cannington, Shaw, & Co.” This English company produced bottled pickles, relishes, olives, and other related foods. The style of the mark places its production date between 1897 and 1913 (although, of course, the feature places the upper production limit at 1909 and the use of an automatic bottle machine places the lower limit at 1905). The remaining three commercial food bottles were unmarked, general use bottles, so their contents are unknown. Of the two cylindrical bottles, one was wide-mouthed (#12T-280), the other, narrow-mouthed (#12T-270). The narrow-mouthed bottle likely would have had a tin lid or cap. It was also partially melted. The third was a base fragment of a 2-1/4-inch wide, 11-sided bottle (#12T-288). Four preserving jars were discovered, as well as two jar closures. All of the jars were aqua-green. The first jar was machine made (#12T-168), although whether the machine was semi-automatic or fully-automatic is impossible to determine for widemouth bottles (machine made narrow-mouth bottles were only produced on fullyautomatic machines. The second jar was highly fragmented, so little was determined about it other than some of its fragments could not be parts of other jars. The third and fourth jars, on the other hand, were in better condition (#12T-17 & -167). Both were embossed “Ball Mason” in a script used between 1895 and 1910 (Toulouse 1969). Each had a ground lip and used a zinc cap that sealed on the shoulder of the bottle. On one bottle (#12T-17), the zinc lid with milk-glass liner was still screwed onto the bottle. Unfortunately, the bottom of the bottle was broken, so there was no chance to determine

100

what the bottle may once have contained. Two additional intact zinc lids with milk-glass liners were recovered, although these were not attached to jars. Both were shoulder-seal types and would have fit the recovered jars. The liner of one lid (#12T-36) was embossed with “BOYD'S GENUINE PORCELAIN LINED”, a mark that places its TPQ at 1869 (Toulouse 1969). Fifty-six bottle closures were found in the pit, not including the in situ cork stopper found in the shoe polish bottle discussed earlier. One was a 11/16-inch diameter press-fit lid made of zinc (#12T-251). Its type-name is unknown. An embossed lighting stopper was also found, although so far I have been unable to make out what was written (#12T-66). The mushroom-style glass peg stopper is of the type that came with bottles of club sauce (#12T-223). The peg stopper was partially melted. Fifty crown caps were recovered; the one with a hole in the center likely caused by a bottle opener. Two, 1-inch diameter, 7/8-inch tall, iron screw-cap closures with continuous threads were found (#12T-129). The type of bottle they would have been associated with is unknown. The type of bottle the last closure would have been associated with is also unknown. It, too, was a screw-cap, 1 inch diameter, 3-7/8 inches tall, and made of lead (#12T-187). Six alcohol bottles were in the deposit—five liquor and one wine. Three of the liquor bottles were unmarked with straight brandy finishes. One was a Philadelphia oval with evidence of heat damage (#12T-3). One bottle was a round cornered blake, embossed with “J.W. Kelley & Co.”, a mark used between 1903 and 1915 (#12T-31). J.W. Kelley was a Tennessee whiskey producer who sold much of their whiskey through the mail. The last liquor bottle was a South Carolina Dispensary Jo-Jo flask produced

101

between 1891 and 1907 (#12T-272). The single wine bottle is represented by body fragments of dark olive green ('black') glass (#12T-179). A minimum of four soda pop and water bottles were recovered, including three locally produced bottles, embossed with “C.C. HABENIGHT / COLUMBIA / S.C.” (#12T-277, -294, -295). The fourth was an aqua-blue, 2-1/2-inch diameter, 6-1/4-inch tall cup bottom molded bottle with a blob-top finish, embossed with “WATERS & SHARP / DOVER / N.J.” (#12T-264). To date, no information concerning this company has been located. A French Square-style bottle of Cunningham & Co. root beer (bitters), produced between 1879 and 1909, was also recovered. It may well have been used as a mixer. The remaining seven bottles were too fragmented to determine form, but each represents a unique characteristic not associated with any previously defined bottles, mostly the color of glass, and so are counted as additional containers; none were marked. The colorless, salamander-oval bottle suggests alcohol contents (#12T-284), but this bottle shape was occasionally used for other liquids. The original shape was indeterminate for the remaining six bottles. Remarkably few metal food containers were recovered—510 fragments, representing 20 MNI. Metal food can closures were of a single type: wind-strip. Windstrips were perfected in 1895 by Edwin Norton as a method for opening the tapered canned meat tin patented by Libby and Wilson of Chicago in 1875—the same tin still in use today (Rock 2000). Along with the three wind-strip fragments was an intact can key, with part of a wind-strip still rolled around the bottom of the key (#12T-1).

102

Table 2-7. Cylindrical Can Data from Feature 12T Diameter

MNI

2 1/8-inches 2 11/16-inches 2 7/8-inches 3-inches 3 5/8-inches 3 3/16-inches 3 3/4-inches Total

4 3 1 1 1 1 1

Five square/rectangular cans

Type

were recovered. None Tomato or pineapple juice

were complete enough to

Likely coffee can

determine size or possible contents. As such, it is

possible they represent non-food containers. The majority of fragments were parts of cylindrical cans. MNI numbers were determined by end pieces only. After measuring the diameter of each end-piece fragment, they were grouped together by size. The circumference of each fragment per diameter group was then measured, and a minimum number count determined based on the number of complete end pieces that would result if they were joined, understanding that two end pieces are needed for each can counted. The assemblage represents a minimum of 13 individual cans in seven different sizes. Table 2-7 summarizes the cylindrical can data. Since the canning industry in North America became highly standardized after its start around 1820, knowing the size of a can often tell you what the can once contained (IMACS 1992). These correlations are also presented in Table 2-7.

ARCHITECTURAL ITEMS A total of 1,463 artifacts (667 MNI) related to architecture were recovered from the Lower level, most representing nails (906 artifacts, 641 MNI) and window glass (419 artifacts, 6 MNI). The most common method in archaeology for reporting window glass thickness is in millimeters or, less commonly, in hundredths of an inch. Although such

103

measurements aid in determining statistical variance, they have absolutely no cultural relevancy. Window glass in the United States was produced, marketed, and sold in increments of sixty-fourths of an inch, and it is in such increments people wrote about, discussed, and bought window glass. Six thicknesses of colorless glass were recovered: 28 at 1/32; 142 at 3/64; 190 at 1/16; 30 at 5/64; 25 at 3/32; and 4 at 1/8. It should be noted that some fragments of colorless flat glass might represent non-window glass, like picture frame glass. Nails were the most abundant architecture-related items recovered from the deposit. The nail assemblage consisted of 4 braids (flooring nails), 77 finishing nails, 15 spikes, 2 non-galvanized roofing nails, and a range of common nails. Using the heads of nails to determine MNI counts, 164 machine-cut (with a TPQ of 1805) and 144 wire common nails (with a TPQ of circa 1870) were found, along with 129 cut nails and 126 wire nails of unknown type. Other Architecture-related artifacts included a a fragment of concrete with drops of yellow paint (#12T-78). What makes the concrete unusual, besides telling us that yellow paint was used to paint the interior or exterior of the structure, was it had an impressed maker's mark—“AND... / … UMB ...”. Unfortunately, at this time, no information is available about this mark. Also found were 10 fragments of lumber painted green (#12T-64).

INTERIOR Architecture-related artifacts unambiguously associated with the interior of a structure were represented by five fragments of plaster-coated mortar, 101 fragments of

104

floor or wall tile (#12T-72), and fragments of smooth-cut marble (Figure 2-21). All of the plaster surfaces were paintedâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;three were matte red, two were matte yellow. The floor/wall tile fragments represent a minimum of six tiles. They were earthenware tiles, Figure 2-21. Decorative artifacts from the lunch counter deposit. Moving clockwise from the upper left: green floor/wall tile; yellow-painted plaster/mortar; red-painted plaster/mortar; and drops of yellow paint on concrete.

measuring 3x1-1/2x3/8-inches, with an opaque green glaze mottled with brown splotches. Today, examples of these tiles are sold on eBay as Art Deco tiles. They

were manufactured by the Trent Tile Company of Trent, New Jersey, sometime between 1882 and 1914 (although the context of the lunch counter deposit places the upper limit at 1909). The marble fragments were sampled, suggesting how at least a portion of the lunch counter floor, or counter, was composed.

EXTERIOR Architecture-related artifacts unambiguously associated with the exterior of a structure were varied, including bricks and brick bats coated in soot on one surface (one sample brick saved), corrugated sheet iron, likely used as roofing material, 9 fragments of terneplate (tin plate) roofing material, and 8 fragments of slate, which could have been roofing material, but more likely, paving material. Three different window shutterrelated artifacts were recovered. Three fragments from two 1-3/4-inch butt hinges tell us

105

how the windows or counter opening were fastened. The 5-inch blind hinge hook tells us how a window, or more likely, the counter opening was secured. The 4-1/2-inch wide, 'S'-shaped shutter dog with a 5-inch spike tells us how at least one window shutter was secured. Interestingly, the shutter dog shows evidence of repair. At some point, the spike broke and was welded together at an off-set.

DOMESTIC ITEMS A total of 355 Domestic group artifacts was recovered from the Lower level, representing a minimum of 21 objects. A minimum of six lamp chimneys were in the deposit, two of which were hand-pressed, one with a beaded edge, the other a scallop edge. One was machine-pressed with a beaded edge. The remaining three all had flat/smooth rims, one made of soda-glass, one of milk-glass, and the last of leaded-glass. Domestic items classified as hardware were varied. An iron angle bracket, with fragments of wood still attached, likely supported a shelf, cupboard, or similar accessory. Two drawer handles were found, one a fragment from an undecorated plate with handle attachment (#12T-44), the other a Gothic Revival-style cast brass pull (#12T-240). Two 3 x 2-inch coat-and-hat hooks, with gimlet-pointed screw attachments, were in the lunch counter, along with two eye-screws with gimlet points that may have been used to hang something. What object the 2-inch cast iron door ring (think, trap-door ring handle) belonged to is unknown, although a cupboard is a good possibility. The outside door handle (assuming the door opened outward), 17-1/2-inches long, was decorative cast iron (#12T-218). The door swung on 3-hole, rolled plate hinges, of the type commonly used

106

today (#12T-216). A 3 x 8-inch barn door-type latch was recovered (#12T124), which may been used to secure the door with a padlock. Figure 2-22. Illustration of electrical wire recovered from the lunch counter deposit (#12T-190 &191) (E.B. Latham Co. 19xx:211) (authorâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s collection).

Four lock-related artifacts were recovered. The first was a cast iron lock

bolt (#12T-39). The lock bolt is the part of a lock that engages the door frame and draws in when the handle or locking mechanism is turned, allowing the door to open. The second was a key to a level tumbler lock (#12T-10). The key had a hollow-shank, 1-1/4inch long, and likely mated with a padlock. The third was an intact rim lock, 3-3/4 x 31/2-inches (#12T-75). This lock matches exactly the rim locks found in the main MannSimons house today. Given its orientation, we know the lock was mounted on the left side of the door, with the hinges on the right. The fourth was the back-plate of a second cast iron rim lock (#12T-73). A fluted, leaded-glass candle stick holder was found, along with an unglazed earthenware flowerpot and a steel, chrome-plated, 13/16-inch tall letter 'S' (#12T-226). The letter 'S' had a flat back surface with two binding posts, and is of the type used for lettering on mailboxes, etc., today. Given that John L. Simons ran the lunch counter, it seems safe to assume the 'S' stands for 'Simon.' The last domestic item was a mystery (#12T-127). Made of galvanized iron, it at first appeared to be a bracket for an oar. But it more closely matches the 1902 Manhattan Electrical Supply Company catalog illustration of a receiver hook for a telephone or speaking tube.

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ELECTRICAL ITEMS Ten artifacts associated with electricity were recovered from the Lower level, representing six individual objects. Two different types of electrical wiring were recovered. The first (#12T-190 & 191) was represented by five fragments of rubber coated, single braid, solid core interior wiring, as illustrated in an early twentieth century Lanthan Company trade catalog, a type introduced industry-wide in 1889 (Figure 2-22). Amazingly, the outer jacket of silk braiding was still intact in many places. The second (#12T-192) was represented by a single fragment of solid core wiring of a different diameter that was also likely rubber coated. Also recovered was a pressed tin, 2-wire, 7/16-inch connector with a mounting hole (#12T-57) and two fragments of 1/2-inch diameter carbon rod of the type used in arc lamps. The last electricity-related artifact recovered (#12T-378) was a fragment of a Brush-Swan arc lamp base, a design patented by Charles Francis Brush in 1886.

OTHER ITEMS Also recovered from the Lower level were a number of artifacts that do not fit neatly into any of the above functional categories. Most of these artifacts are hardware related. Not included here are artifacts classified as 'Unidentified'â&#x20AC;&#x201D;mostly bits of metal that have no discernible form. Two plumbing-related artifacts were found, one a fragment of red-paste earthenware sewer pipe, common across Columbia, the other a cast iron end-cap pipe fitting (#12T-260). Both are discussed in more depth under the heading â&#x20AC;&#x153;Infrastructure.â&#x20AC;? Recovered fasteners included five widths of iron strapping, like the kind used on barrels, containers, and packaging. Widths were 7/16-inch, 5/8-inch, 3/4-inch, 9/16-inch, 108

and 1/4-inch. Riveted to the 9/16-inch wide strap were a series of brass eyelets. What the strap may have secured is unknown. Other fasteners were a bolt fragment of indeterminate type, two cast iron counter-sunk carriage bolts, one 1/4-inch and the other 5/16-inch, the head of a brass bolt from a wood saw, a 3/4-inch hex nut, a 3/4-inch long brass cotter pin, a small brass box latch hook of the kind found on jewelry boxes, four staples (2 at 1-inch, 1 at 3/4-inch, 1 at 3/16-inch), a 3-1/4-inch diameter cast iron lap-link for mending chains, and three diameters of bailing wire: 1/8-inch, 5/32-inch, and 3/32inch. All were twisted-pair wires. Some of the fragments had loop-ends connected together, forming a flexible joint. Other recovered items were a brass washer (O.D.=5/16-inch, I.D.=1/8-inch), a 11/16-inch diameter brass ring made from 1/16-inch diameter wire, a 3/8-inch brass collar and a 5/32-inch chrome plated iron collar, two 7/8-inch zinc discs with tabs on opposite sides of each disc, similar to electrical box punch-outs, two 1-1/16-inch iron discs without tabs, melted lead, and lastly, fragments of a flat, translucent, flexible gasket. The gasket material is unknown, but is likely either a rubber compound or a celluloid-derived plastic. In either case, its preservation is remarkable. What its original shape was is unknown. Seven metal cans also fall under the 'Other Items' heading. Five of these cans were small tins, measuring between 1-3/4-inches and 2-1/8-inches in diameter and were 1/2-inches to 1-inch tall. All had friction-ring groove lids. They may have once held a powder, possibility soap or cosmetic. A 13-inch diameter press-fit removable lid, like those used on paint cans, was also recovered. A rectangular press-fit removable lid was also recovered, although it was too fragmented to determine its original size. The last can

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Table 2-8. Taxa Representation, Feature 12T Taxon/Class FOOD BONES Mammal Cow; Bos Pig; Sus scrofa Ovis aries/Capra hircus Aves Chicken; Gallus gallus Turkey; Meleagris gallopavo Unidentified Aves Pisces Mollusk NON-ECONOMIC SPECIES Rattus sp. Felis catus SIZE GRADED FRAGMENTS Rat/Squirrel sized (Class II) Cat/Dog sized (Class III/ IV) Sheep/Pig sized (Class V) Cow sized (Class VI) TOTAL

NISP

%NISP

was a nearly complete 6Weight (g)

%Weight

15 49 7

1.53 5 0.71

258.7 339.4 30.7

23.86 31.3 2.83

175 1 399 10 11

17.8 0.1 40.6 1.02 1.02

162.3 9.2 106.4 1.9 3.4

14.97 0.84 9.8 0.18 0.31

6 3

0.62 0.31

1.2 4.4

0.12 0.41

1 11 202 7 983

0.1 1.11 20.55 0.71

1.1 1.7 121.9 18.6 1084

0.1 0.16 1.7 0.72

inch diameter hole-incap type that had a series of holes punched in the bottomâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;possibly for use as a watering can (#12T217).

FAUNA The following discussion of faunal remains is extracted verbatim from Faunal Report for Mann-Simons by Diane Wallman (2010). The excavation of Feature 12T yielded 983 bone fragments (1084g), 250 (26%) of which were identified to at least the level of Family (Table 2-8). The low percentage of identifiable specimens is likely due to the highly fragmented nature of the avian remains, as only 176 of the 399 analyzed bones were identifiable to species. Bird remains dominate the assemblage, comprising approximately 60% of the total NISP of this assemblage. Chicken is the most common avian species represented in the sample, with a NISP of 175, and calculated MNI of 11. Analyses identified a single turkey element in the assemblage. Fish and unidentifiable shell were also recovered in this feature, but in relatively small amounts, which may be an effect of recovery methods. Commensal animals identified in the assemblage include cat and rat.

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Pig dominates

Table 2-9. Beef Cuts, Feature 12T

Rank a

Cut Short Loin Rib/Sirloin Round Rump/Chuck Brisket/Plate Foreshank/Hindshank/Arm Neck/Head Foot

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 a

After Azizi et al. 1996

Minimum Number of Meat Cuts

MNMC b 3 2 0 3 0 2 0 1

the domestic mammal %MNMC 27.27 18.18 0 27.27 0 18.18 0 9.09

food bone remains from this feature, comprising approximately 70% of the NISP and 53% of the recorded bone

Table 2-10. Pork Cuts, Feature 12T

weight for domestic Rank

1 2 3 4 5 6

Cut Ham Loin/Rib End Boston Butt Picnic/Shank Ham Spareribs/Side/Hock Head/Jowl /Foot

After Azizi et al. 1996

Minimum Number of Meat Cuts

MNMC 5 6 3 5 2 4

%MNMC 20 24 12 20 8 18

mammals (Figure 223). Although many mammalian remains were only identified to size class, it is

Table 2-11. Sheep/Goat Cuts, Feature 12T

important to note that Rank 1 2 3 4 5 6

Cut Loin Rack Shank End Chuck/Butt End Neck Shank/Foot/Head

After Azizi et al. 1996

Minimum Number of Meat Cuts

MNMC 0 3 2 2 0 0

%MNMC 0 42.87 28.57 28.57 0 0

pig and sheep/goatsized fragments (medium mammals) are the most common size-graded fragments

in this feature. Meat cut analysis reveals that the medium and large mammal remains from this feature represent a variety of cuts, without any direct correlation to cost (Tables 2-9, 10,

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Figure 2-24. Planview of Unit 13 at the top of Level 2 (left), irregular depression (center), and Level 3 (right).

11). Short loin and chuck cuts are the most frequent beef cuts in this feature, with rib, and sirloin also common. Pork is the most common meat found in this feature, and a variety of cuts were consumed at the site. Ham and shank hams are the most frequent pork cuts within the assemblage. This trend is not surprising, as these cuts were likely cured or pickled, and when not fresh, were very cost-effective. The sheep/goat remains identified indicate that these cuts were likely purchased and not raised on site, based on the lack of feet and head remains, with middle-range priced cuts preferred for consumption.

UNIT 13 Since nothing in Unit 12 indicated the lunch counter's north wall, as suggested by the 1904 Sanborn map, and the east-west dimension along the front of the lunch counter was 13 feet, evidenced by the brick foundation encountered in Unit 11, a third unit, 2.5 x 2.5-feet, was placed over a hypothesized northwest corner of the structure, 13 feet north of the Richland Street sidewalk, to test for possible structural remains. Upon removal of

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the surface of Level 1 (13A), at a depth of 0.1 feet, a cinder block was encountered along the east wall of the unit. Full excavation of Level 1 showed that the cinder block was resting upon the surface of Level 2 (13B), 0.6 feet below surface (Figure 2-24). Associated with Level 2, directly west of the cinder block, was a postmold (13C) measuring 0.4 feet (approximately 5 inches) east-west, 0.6 feet (approximately 7 inches) north-south, with a depth of 1.24 feet. Feature 13D, a wood post measuring 0.35 feet (4 inches) east-west, 0.25 feet (3 inches) north-south, with a length of 2.23 feet, was also encountered at the surface of Level 2, directly north of 13C. Removal of Level 2 exposed an irregular depression (13E), composed of very dark brown sandy loam mottled with yellowish red sandy clay, measuring 1.0 feet at its narrowest and 1.4 feet at its widest, 0.22 feet deep, running roughly north-south along the center of the unit (Figure 2-24). Discovered below Feature 13E was a postmold (13F), measuring 0.55 feet east-west, 0.6 feet north-south, with a depth of 0.76 feet, and an associated posthole (13G), measuring 0.85 feet east-west, 0.90 feet north-south, also with a depth of 0.76 feet. All three posts (13C, 13D, 13F) are inside Feature 13E along its western edge, suggesting a boundary between spaces, most likely a wall.

DISCUSSION Lunch counters and other related, small-scale backyard or corner commercial structures are rare in the literature of historical archaeology. Searches and information requests on the histarch listserv only brought to light two other lunch counter (confectionery) excavations in North America. The first is a 1940s-era lunch counter in Los Angeles, California, excavated by South Central Coastal Information Center,

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California State University—Fullerton in 1999 as part of construction for the Universal City Station Park and Ride facility (Greenwood, et al. 2000). Email requests for information regarding the excavation or where I might obtain a copy of the report have so far gone unanswered. The second was excavated in 1994 by Patrick Garrow of Garrow & Associates (now TRC Garrow Associates) in Knoxville, Tennessee, as part of the Knoxville Courthouse Project. Their Atlanta office informed me that they have only one paper copy of the report. They are in the process of scanning the report to send to me. Given this lack of other lunch counter and similar structures explored archaeologically, the general dearth of (but growing) archaeologically-known African American owned businesses, and the importance of understanding these types of enterprises within the context of a burgeoning national consumer culture that went hand-in-hand with regionally-specific, materially-grounded forms of structural racism, the niche this excavation fills is apparent. We know the lunch counter was 13 x 13 feet and built flush with the south and west property lines (which are also the inside edges of the current sidewalk). The structure may have sat on brick piers, similar to the house at 1904 Marion Street, or may have had a brick foundation along the front and post-in-ground construction along the sides and rear, in the same style as the the grocery at 1407 Richland Street. Evidence of a 10-inch post (13F) in Unit 13 along the rear wall suggests post-in-ground construction. A six-inch post (12J) in Unit 12, three feet north of the rear wall, on one hand, might be evidence of an awning at the rear of the building. The argument for an awning is actually supported by a curious inconsistency in the 1904 Sanborn map. In all instances – except the rear wall of the lunch counter – the 1904 Sanborn map had a degree of error no

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greater than one foot, yet the indicated rear wall on the map is four-feet north of the actual wall. Since the maps are plan views, the surveyor may have drawn the extent of the roof, four-feet south of the structure's wall. On the other hand, the six-inch post may have had a currently-unknown function related to the operation of the lunch counter but unrelated to structural support. We know that the counter was built sometime between 1863 and 1891, based on the date of a penny found under the brick foundation for the earlier date and a listing in the Columbia City Directory for the later. Between 1875 and 1890, there is no mention of a structure at 1401 Richland Street in the city directories, although the city directories are very inconsistent before 1890 and the Caroliniana Library at the University of South Carolina, Columbia is missing many of the directories printed before 1890. In each of the years in which the structure is listed, John L. Simons, grandson of Celia Mann, is noted as proprietor. Born in 1859, John Simons is listed as head-of-household in 1888, at the age of 29. Between 1888 and 1890, the city directories list his occupation as “Mfr of walking canes, etc.,” suggesting that if he was operating a lunch counter prior to 1891, the directory would likely list him as “restaurateur” or “grocer,” as did the later directories. While none of this is definitive, it does suggest that the 1891 date is the actual date of construction. We also know that 18 years after opening, the lunch counter closed in 1909. We knew this before the archaeology, but not why. The 1910 city directory lists John Simons as proprietor of a lunch counter a half-block away, at 1912 Marion Street. The 1910 Sanborn map no longer depicts a structure at 1401 Richland Street. The large trash pit discovered in Unit 12 discussed earlier provides an explanation for the disappearance of

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1401 Richland Street. As previously discussed, the trash pit contained artifactual and structural remains of the counter. A thin lens of charcoal-laden black soil covered the floor of the pit. Most of the bricks and brick bats recovered had a coating of soot on one face. There were many instances of melted glass, as well as cracked but intact glass, indicating high heat followed by rapid cooling (a demonstrative effect is archived by placing a glass marble in boiling water for several minutes and then immersing the marble in cold water). Floor/wall tiles, as well as tableware ceramics, also showed evidence of high heat. It appears that the lunch counter caught fire in 1909. Not enough to burn it to the ground, but enough to require rebuilding and refurnishing. Since John Simons had moved from 1904 Marion Street to 1914 Marion Street in 1909, he seemingly decided to rebuild his lunch counter next to his new house. Following the fire, a large pit was dug behind the structure, the un-salvageable or non-useful contents of the counter dumped in, the pit capped with sandy clay (subsoil), and new topsoil laid down (Level 5). The outcome of this event is a remarkable material snapshot of the lunch counterâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;structurally and operationally. The details of this snapshot are presented in Chapters 4 and 5.

THE PRIVY An unlined privy pit was encountered in Unit 39 (Figure 2-25), extending into the west wall of Block 2. Only the exposed portion of the pit was excavated, measuring five feet from north to south (full extent) and 4.4 feet from east to west (excavated extent), with a depth below stratum 39B of 3.15 feet. On the southeast corner was a 0.15 x 0.35 foot (2 x 4 inch) posthole extending 0.95 feet below the surface of stratum 39B. The

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profile of a second posthole, possibly a replacement post, reinforced with a piece of granite, was discovered 2.5 feet west of the corner post (center-to-center) along the southern edge of the pit, extending one-foot below stratum 39B. No Figure 2-25. Planview drawing of the privy feature uncovered in Block 2.

evidence of structural remains was found along

the eastern edge. Although speculative, there is some suggestion of parallel posts along the northern edge, evidenced by slight 0.35 feet (four inch) indentations directly across from the posts along the southern edge. The base of a pier (Feature 39F), composed of three bricks, was discovered off the northeast corner of the privy pit. Its association with the privy structure is unknown but possible, given the lack of evidence for any other structure in the vicinity.

STRATIGRAPHY The pit contained seven layers consisting of a series of lenses and deposits of coal, architectural debris, sandy silt, and sandy clay (Figures 2-26A & B). The upper layers were all heavily dominated by coal and byproducts of burning coal, making it

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difficult to excavate each layer separately. Artifacts from layers 39C, 39DUpper, and 38E were bagged together as 39Câ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a mix of furnace and/or stove waste and household Figure 2-26A. West profile of the privy feature. debris. Layer 39D-Lower consisted almost entirely of coal and coal byproducts, with very few artifacts, suggesting it was the product of someone cleaning out a coal-burning furnace and/or stove. Layer 39J (Level 3) was composed almost entirely Figure 2-26B. West profile of the privy feature. of architectural debris, primarily brick bats, mortar, nails, and large pieces of ferrous and non-ferrous sheet metal, in a matrix of mottled loamy sand, and certainly represents a deconstruction/demolition event, likely the removal of the privy structure. Level 4 (39K) was a thin lens of very dark brown loamy sand roughly centered in the privy pit extending to the north. A soil sample was taken from the center of the lens for later

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flotation. Layer 39L (Level 5) was a sandy clay heavily mottled with sandy silt containing few artifacts. The bottom-most layer (39M, Level 6) was an extremely thin lens (0.01 feet) of very dark brown loamy sand. As with 39K, a soil sample was taken for later flotation.

DATING All six layers of privy fill provided information concerning the use and abandonment of the privy. Starting from the bottom up, the TPQ date for Level 6 (39M) is circa 1870, based on two wire-drawn nails (#39M-7). For Level 5 (39L), the TPQ is circa 1860, based on two bottles made in post-bottom molds (#39L-9 and 39L-19). The TPQ date for Level 4 (39K) is 1903, based on an electrical insulator cleat marked “E P Co”, short for Electrical Porcelain Company (#39K-18). For Level 3 (30J), the TPQ is 1915, based on a soda pop bottle base embossed with “Chero Cola” (#39J-13).

DISCUSSION From the archaeology, we have a general idea of what the privy looked like. The privy superstructure was wood frame construction, five-feet north to south, with 2 x 4inch or 4 x 4-inch posts on 2.5-foot centers along the north and south walls. East-west dimensions are not known, although a multiple of 2.5-feet is likely. Although highly speculative, it may have been a five-foot square structure, with the entry on the east side, given the lack of evidence for support posts along that wall. The superstructure may have been supported further by bricks/brick bats, either as piers or one or more rows, suggested by the large number of brick bats encountered in Level 3 (39J). The fragments

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of sheet metal suggest a roof fully or partially composed of sheet metal. No other roofing materials were encountered. The privy substructure was an unlined pit above the water table, possibly as deep as four feet, given the post-1970s disturbance. Deposits appear to represent three distinct events. The first is Level 6 (39M), the bottom-most layer, the remains of night-soil, or use-fill. Level 6 is a thin lens of night-soil along the bottom of the privy after the final cleaning event. The second event represented by the archaeology relates to Levels 5, 4, and 3. Level 5 (39L) appears to be fill-material deposited at the end of the privy's use-life, suggested by the presence of a possible second layer of night-soil (Level 4, 39K) on top of Level 5, as well as the layer's slopping southern profile. Level 3 (39J) represents the destruction of the superstructure sometime after 1915. Numerous artifact cross-mends were found between Levels 3, 4, and 5. The final event, represented by layers C, 39D-Lower (coal furnace waste), DUpper, and E, are contemporaneous deposits of furnace/stove and household waste postdating the destruction of the privy superstructure.

DESCRIPTION OF THE ARTIFACTS A full description of the artifacts found in the privy is detailed in Appendix D. A total of 2,423 artifacts (representing 431 MNI), 369 grams (151 fragments) of faunal and 1.3 grams of floral material were recovered from Levels 3-6. A total of 1,661 artifacts were recovered from Level 3 (39J); 592 artifacts from Level 4 (39K); 164 artifacts from Level 5 (39L); and 14 artifacts from Level 6 (39M). The following discussion, organized

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Table 2-12. Summary of Artifacts from the 39J-Complex (Privy), Sorted by Object Name and MNI Object Name Ammunition, Bullet, .22 Caliber Architectural, Concrete/Cement Architectural, Door Stop Architectural, Glass, Window

MNI 1 1 1 10

Object Name Furniture, Tack Hardware, Bar Stock Hardware, Collar Hardware, Nail, Common

Architectural, Sheet Metal

Hardware, Nail, Escutcheon Pin

Architectural, Tile, Roofing

Hardware, Nail, Unidentified

MNI 1 1 1 239 1 22

Architectural, Tile, Roofing, Tin

Hardware, Nut

Clothing, Buckle, Suspender Clothing, Button

2 1

Hardware, Screw, Wood Hardware, Staple

5 3

Clothing, Button, 2-Hole

Hardware, Stock, Bar

Clothing, Button, 2-Piece

Hardware, Strap

Clothing, Button, 4-Hole

Hardware, Tool, Shaft Clamp

Clothing, Fastener, Clip, Suspender

Hardware, Washer

Clothing, Fastener, Hook-and-Eye

Hardware, Wire, Bailing

Clothing, Rivet

Household Accessory, Flowerpot

Clothing, Shoe, Grommet Clothing, Straight Pin

3 1

Lighting, Lamp, Chimney Lighting, Lamp, Shade

1 2

Communication, Pencil, Lead, Round

Lighting, Lamp, Shade / Chimney

Communication, Pencil, Slate

Personal, Bead

Container, Bottle

Personal, Jewelry, Wire

2 1

Container, Bottle, Beverage

Personal, Mirror

Container, Bottle, Bitters

Personal, Watch, Pocket Watch

Container, Bottle, Closure, Crown Cap

Plumbing, Pipe, Sewer

Container, Bottle, Closure, Peg Stopper

Soil Sample

Container, Bottle, Cosmetic, Perfume/Cologne Container, Bottle, Liquor / Whiskey

1 6

Tableware, Bowl Tableware, Cup

n/a 2 2

Container, Bottle, Soda Pop

Tableware, Drinking Glass

Container, Bottle, Wine

Tableware, Flatware

Container, Can, Closure, Removable Lid (non-screw)

Tableware, Hollowware

Container, Can, Closure, Wind-Strip

Tableware, Plate

Container, Can, Cylindrical

Tableware, Saucer

Container, Can, Square/Rectangular

Tableware, Unidentified

Container, Jar Container, Jar, Cosmetic

1 1

Tableware, Utensil, Spoon Tobacco, Pipe

1 2

Container, Jar, Preserving

Toy, Marble

Electrical, Insulator, Cleat

Unidentified, Ceramic

n/a

Fauna

n/a

Unidentified, Glass

n/a

Fauna, Egg Shell

n/a

Unidentified, Metal

n/a

Fauna, Shell

n/a

Architectural, Wood, Lumber

Flora, Nut, Pecan

n/a

Utilitarian, Hollowware

Furniture, Spring Furniture, Stove

2 1

Total

431

by functional type, provides information only as needed in interpreting patterns, sequences of events, or other archaeological phenomena, as well as highlighting artifacts of special note found in the privy. Table 2-12 presents the same data summarized in terms of Object Names and minimum counts.

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PERSONAL ITEMS Including subcategories, a total of 62 artifacts were recovered from the privy belonging to the Personal group, representing 36 individual items. Items not belonging to a subcategory were two fragments of back-plated mirror (#39K-37), two fragments from a 7/32-inch diameter slate pencil (#39L-27 & 39J-78), a fragment of round molded graphite pencil lead (#39J-79), eleven pieces from the backplate of a steel pocket watch (#39J-83), and two tobacco pipe fragments. The first pipe was an undecorated bowl fragment of kaolin clay (#39K-20), the second was a rim fragment from an opaque green glazed pipe with a molded rib design (#39K-19). A type name for this second pipe is unknown.

CLOTHING Clothing-related objects were all fasteners, including an undecorated iron rivet (#39K-60), three brass grommets, likely from a shoe, what appears to be part of a brass cuff-link (#39L-33), a brass hook from a hump-style hook-and-eye fastener, an iron suspender buckle, a brass suspender buckle marked “RUBBER BUTTON” (#39J-84), a brass suspender clip marked “SECURITY” (#39J-85), and 16 buttons. Seven buttons were 4-hole dry-pressed porcelain (prosser), two were 4-hole bone buttons, one was a 4hole brass button marked “Double-Ring / Edge” (#39J-87), three were 2-hole shell buttons, one was an unidentified brass button (#39K-63), two were 2-piece, loop-shank copper buttons, and one was a 2-piece fabric covered iron button (#39J-88). Unfortunately, nearly all the fabric is gone and the color is indeterminate.

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FIREARMS A single, seemingly unfired, .22 caliber bullet was the only firearms-related object recovered (#39L-28). A cartridge case to go with it was not found.

HYGIENE Three Hygiene items were found. The first was an intact but unmarked bottle of perfume/cologne in an octagonal, post-bottom molded bottle with a bead finish, 2-7/8inches tall and a base-width of 1-7/16-inches (#39L-19). The second was a rectangular milk-glass cosmetic jar, likely a Vaseline or cold-cream container (#39J-45). The third was a fragment from a cobalt blue vessel. Although the fragment was too small to determine the form of the vessel, it was likely cosmetic related.

ORNAMENTAL Two Personal-Ornamental objects were recovered: a small, black, hexagonal glass bead (#39K-11) and two lengths of 26-gauge copper wire (#39L-34 & 39J-75), interpreted as being related to jewelry making (see previous discussion).

SEWING The only sewing-related artifact recovered was a brass straight pin, 1-1/16-inches in length, with a dome head (#39J-74).

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TOYS

Table 2-6. Summary of Ceramic Kitchen Group Artifacts from Feature 12T, Sorted by Surface Decorative Style/Technique MNI

Decorative Style/Technique Porcelain

Two buff-colored, 9/16-inch diameter

Refined Molded Painted, Overglaze, Monochrome

1 1

Decalcomania, Underglaze

Gilded, Liquid Gold

Sponge / Spatter

Plain / Colorless Glaze

Stoneware

unglazed earthenware marbles were the only toyrelated objects recovered

Graniteware Molded

Alkaline Glazed Salt Glazed

1 1

Earthenware

(#39K-3). The marbles appears to have been

Whiteware Annular / Banded, Slipped â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Trailed

Plain / Colorless Glaze

Flow Transfer Printed

Gilded, Liquid Gold

Molded Transfer Printed, Underglaze, Monochrome

2 3

Painted, Overglaze, Monochrome

Painted, Underglaze, Polychrome

Edge Decorated

hand-rolled.

KITCHEN ITEMS A total of 1,321

Yellowware Plain / Colorless Glaze

1 Total

artifacts recovered from

the privy belonged to the Kitchen group, representing 71 distinct objects. Table 2-13 summarizes the Kitchen group ceramic data in terms of decorative style/technique.

TABLEWARE A total of 91 artifacts, representing 28 objects, fell within the Kitchen-Tableware subgroup. The low number of tableware artifacts, but a relatively high minimum number of items, suggests that the privy, at least during its use as a trash deposit, functioned not as a primary refuse deposit, but as a convenient place to dispose of small, miscellaneous trash items, for example, yard sweepings. This is supported by the contrasting pattern presented by low curation items, like bottles (discussed in the next section), of which

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there were a high number of artifacts relative to the minimum number of vessels (suggesting that bottles and like items were deposited as unbroken objects). Identifiable tablewares included two blue, transfer printed whiteware bowls with floral patterns, an annular/banded, slip-decorated green mocha-patterned cup, a graniteware cup decorated with a single, 'liquid gold' band along the rim, and fragments from three drinking glasses. Two of the drinking glasses were pressed, leaded-glass, one with a fish scale pattern (#39L-17), the other with a geometric diamond pattern (#39J18). The third drinking glass was decorated with thin, frosted bands along its circumference (#39J-29). At least two undecorated whiteware saucers were recovered, both with 3-inch diameter footrings. A rim fragment with a diameter of 4-inches may or may not be part of one of these identified saucers. Also found were fragments from nine plates. Seven of the plates were whiteware, and included two undecorated 8-inch plates, two undecorated 7-inch plates, a blue transfer printed 7-inch plate with a scalloped edge, an undecorated 10-inch plate, and a plate of unknown diameter with a red painted, underglaze band along the rim. The remaining two were 6-inch undecorated graniteware plates. Additionally, two undecorated flatware items were recovered, one of whiteware, the other of refined porcelain. Four hollowware items were recovered, three of which were undecorated. Two of the undecorated hollowware items were whiteware, the third was pressed glass. The fourth hollowware was acid etched glass with annular bands, and likely is a fragment from a drinking vessel. Four additional tablewares were recovered, but the fragments were too small to determine if they were flatware or hollowware. Each had a surface decoration not found

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on any other tableware items from the deposit. The first had an opaque, black glaze, the second a pink transfer printing, the third, a brown transfer printing of a floral design, and the fourth, underglaze decalcomania in a pink floral pattern. The last tableware item was an iron spoon, 5-3/4-inches long, with a bowl diameter of 1-1/4-inches (#39J-11). Unfortunately, the spoon was too corroded to determine a pattern type.

UTILITARIAN A total of 1,230 artifacts, representing 43 objects, fell within the KitchenUtilitarian subgroup. The high number of artifacts, but relatively low minimum number of items, is the product of highly-fragmented glass bottles. Food-can objects included fragments from three cylindrical cans, two rectangular cans, a single fragment of a windstrip, and two non-screw removable lids. The first was a 2-inch diameter pry-top lid (a paint can style lid) and the second, a cylindrical copper lid of unknown diameter with iron can side fragments still attached. None of the cylindrical cans were complete enough to determine diameter. The only non-bottle glass item was a preserving jar with a rubber-sealed, springclip finish (#39J-90). This design was patented in 1904 by William H. Honiss (Pat. #826,104) and an improvement in 1907 by Alfred C. McCloskey (Pat. #907,166). Utilitarian items of ceramic included three small alkaline glazed stoneware fragments representing three different hollowware vessels and two highly burnished, unglazed earthenware fragments decorated with a single black painted line along the rim

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(#39L-32 & 39J-86). These last two pieces appear to be from a hollowware vessel consistent with those produced by the Catawba for market sale. Bottle closures were of two types: thirteen crown-caps and an intact, ambercolored glass Caswell-style peg stopper (#39J-28). The remaining Kitchen-Utilitarian objects were all bottles. Bottles identified only by color included a dark olive ('black' glass) wine bottle, a brown bottle of unknown form, a bright green (“7-UP” green) bottle, and a manganese-clarified ('solarized' or 'amethyst') bottle, also of unknown form. The remaining bottles were all either intact or identified by number of bases. The only identified soda pop bottle was a light green bottle embossed “Chero Cola” in angled block text (#39J-13), a style used by the company, according to various internet collector sites, between 1915 and 1923. Four intact liquor/whiskey bottles were recovered. All were machine made of colorless glass with brandy finishes. Three were Jo-Jo flasks (two 1/2-pints, one full pint), the fourth was a quart bottle embossed “Hayner Whiskey” (#39J-38), a company based in Troy, Ohio, that went out of business, as most did, in 1918. Two additional Handy-style bases (the base style used on Jo-Jo flasks) were recovered, along with seven brandy finishes. Assuming two of the finishes belong to the bases, it leaves five finishes without bases, suggesting a minimum of seven bottles. With the four intact bottles, there were potentially a minimum of 11 liquor/whiskey bottles recovered from the privy. The remaining bottles were all general beverage bottles, including the base of an aqua-blue cylindrical bottle with a post-bottom mold, the base of a colorless bottle produced with a bottom-hinged mold, and the base of a colorless panel bottle.

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ARCHITECTURAL ITEMS A total of 779 artifacts (256 MNI) related to architecture were recovered from the privy, most being sheet metal (134 artifacts, 1 MNI), nails (525 artifacts, 239 MNI), and window glass (86 artifacts, 10 MNI). The iron sheet metal fragments

Figure 2-27. Possible door stop associated with the privy (#39J-2).

all belonged to a single, highly corroded

sheet with rolled, locking edges (#39K-73). Both wire and cut nails were recovered. None were specialty nails, although corrosion made identification difficult. Six thicknesses of green-tinted window glass were recovered: 1 at 3/64; 9 at 1/16; 3 at 5/64; 2 at 3/32; and 1 at 1/8. Five thicknesses of colorless window glass were also recovered: 15 at 1/16; 31 at 5/64; 22 at 3/32; 1 at 1/8; and 1 at 7/32. Note that some fragments of colorless flat glass might represent non-window glass, like picture frame glass. Two related architecture items were particularly interesting (Figure 2-27). The first was an underfired (soft) brick bat, in the center of which a 1-3/4 x 1/2-inch slot had been carved (#39J-2). The slot was rounded and well-worn. The second was a 13-inch length of 1-1/4 x 1/4-inch iron bar stock (#39J-93). Together, they may have functioned as a door-stop for the privy. The bar, attached to the door, would have slotted down into the rectangular slot in the brick at the base of the door. Although a bolt-latch on the door would have been a simpler solution for keeping the door closed while occupied, someone did take the time to carve the brick. Given the brick's clear association with privy debris,

128

and the lack of any other clear function for the brick (or even a reason for carving a brick such), the hypothesis of a door stop is reasonable.

INTERIOR No architecture-related artifacts unambiguously associated with the interior of a structure were recovered. This is not surprising, given that it was a privy.

EXTERIOR Four architecture-related items unambiguously associated with the exterior of a structure were recovered: 22 fragments of crimped tin (terneplate) roofing material (MNI=1), a 1/2-inch thick fragment of trowel-spread cement (#39J-6), seven fragments of slate (MNI=1), and one fragment of unpainted sawed lumber (#39K-4). Although the slate may have been roofing material, more likely it was used as paving material or some similar function.

DOMESTIC ITEMS A total of 37 Domestic group artifacts was recovered from the privy, representing 13 objects. A brass furniture tack (#39K-64) and a 1/2-inch brass escutcheon pin (#39K66) were recovered. Fragments from two flowerpots were recovered: one a terracotta flowerpot (#39K-15), the other a stoneware flowerpot with an Albany slip (#39J-8). Two furniture springs were found, both cylindrical, with a diameter of 1-1/4-inches and a length of 1-1/2-inches. One spring had a wood screw attached to an end. Body fragments from a frosted-glass lamp chimney were recovered (#39K-40), along with a fragment from a clear-glass shade or chimney (glass thickness suggests chimney), and a 129

fragment from a frosted-glass lamp shade (#39K-14). The frosted lamp shade is particularly interesting, as it is of the same type – if not the same object – found in other provenances. Two domestic artifacts are mysteries: a fragment of parian ceramic (#39J51) and a glass ring (#39J-77). Parian is a type of high-fired whiteware/porcelain almost exclusively used with decorative objects, like figurines. Unfortunately, the fragment recovered was too small to determine what it might once of been a part. The black glass ring, with an outer diameter of 5/8-inch and an inner diameter of 1/8-inch, was likely a part of an Art Deco decorative element, possibly a lamp. The last Domestic group artifact was an intact stove leg (#39J-117). After cleaning with electrolysis, the cast iron artifact was identified as a stove leg with a floral pattern. The leg matches that of the Acme Royal Coal Cook, a stove that could burn coal or wood. It was advertised in the 1902 Sears, Roebuck, & Co. catalog on page 820. The least expensive model sold for $10.83.

ELECTRICAL ITEMS One artifact associated with electricity was recovered from the privy—a drypressed ceramic, 2-wire insulator cleat (#39K-18). The cleat was marked “E P Co”, short for Electrical Porcelain Company, of East Liverpool, Ohio. It was manufactured sometime between 1903 and 1911 (Tod 1977:79). Founded in 1903, the Electrical Porcelain Company was absorbed by the General Porcelain Company in 1911.

OTHER ITEMS Also recovered from the privy were a number of artifacts that do not fit neatly into any of the above functional categories. Most of these artifacts are hardware related. 130

Not included here are artifact fragments classified as 'Unidentified.' A fragment from a milk-glass vessel was recovered (#39K-38), although the fragment was too small to determine if the vessel was a cosmetic jar, tableware, or other item. An iron split shaftclamp was recovered (#39J-95), although what it may have been used for is unknown. Also recovered was a large, square 3/4-inch iron nut, measuring 1-1/4 x 1-1/4 x 15/8-inches (#39K-59), a 3/16-inch iron washer (outer diameter of 3/4-inch), a 1-inch copper collar (#39J-96), three staples (3/8-inch and 1-1/4-inch), and five wood screwsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a flat head, gimlet point, 3/16-inch brass screw, 5/8-inch long, and four flat head, gimlet point screws 1-1/4-inch long. Iron bar stock fragments were 3/4-inch wide and 5/64-inch thick (#39K-68). Fragments of iron strapping, like the kind used on barrels, packaging, and the like, were of six widths: 1-inch, 9/16-inch, 7/16-inch, 5/16-inch, 3/16-inch, and 1/32-inch. The 1inch strapping was riveted. The 1/32-inch strapping may have been part of a wind-strip from a food can. There were 109 fragments of 1/16-inch and 1/32-inch bailing wire, some in twisted pairs, and some with loop-ends. Lastly, a fragment of 6-inch red-paste earthenware sewer pipe was recovered (39L-1). Ceramic sewer pipe was standard in Columbia and elsewhere prior to widespread use of cast iron. Note that the sewer pipe was recovered from the second-tolowest level of the privy.

FAUNA The following discussion of faunal remains is extracted verbatim from Faunal Report for Mann-Simons by Diane Wallman (2010).

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Table 2-14. Taxa Representation, 39J-Complex (Privy) Taxon/Class FOOD BONES Mammal Cow; Bos Aves Chicken; Gallus gallus Pisces SIZE GRADED FRAGMENTS Cat/Dog sized (Class III/ IV) Sheep/Pig sized (Class V) Cow sized (Class VI) Unidentifiable mammal TOTAL

NISP

%NISP

The privy

Weight (g)

%Weight

contained 151 bone

156

9.93

277.8

75.28

fragments (369g), of

12 1

7.94 0.66

7.4 0.3

2.01 0.08

which only 7% were

2 76 20 25 151

1.32 50.33 13.25 16.56

0.4 42.9 30.1 10.1 369

0.11 11.63 8.16 2.77

identifiable to the species level due to high fragmentation of

Table 2-15. Beef Cuts, 39J-Complex

Rank a 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Cut Short Loin Rib/Sirloin Round Rump/Chuck Brisket/Plate Foreshank/Hindshank/Arm Neck/Head Foot

After Azizi et al. 1996

Minimum Number of Meat Cuts

the remains (Table 2-

MNMC b 1 3 4 2 1 2 1

%MNMC 7.14 21.33 28.57 14.49 7.14 14.49 7.14

14). Cattle and chicken were the only identified species within this deposit, and cattle remains are the most common,

comprising 75% of the bone weight from this assemblage. Pig and sheep/goat sized fragments dominate the size-graded specimens, which suggests that these species were likely represented in the assemblage, but unidentifiable due to fragmentation. The beef cuts identified in this feature were mainly individual, thin ‘steak’ cuts, although the foreshank cut was likely a large ‘roast’-type cut (Table 2-15). Round steaks were the most common cut within this deposit, although cuts from all sections but the foot of the animal were deposited in this feature.

132

TRASH PIT (FEATURE 31C31C-COMPLEX) A large trash deposit was discovered in Unit 31 (Figure 2-29), extending into units 27, 32, and 35, measuring 5.75 feet east to west and 6.5 feet north to south, with a maximum depth of 2.4 feet below the surface of stratum 31B. It was intruded upon by three features: a modern trench associated with a sprinkler system (F2) running east-west across Block 1, a postmold and posthole (32D/E) straddling the northeast edge, and a foundation pier (32H) associated with the house at 1904 Marion Street. The sprinkler trench and postmold/hole were excavated completely prior to excavation of the trash pit. The pit was bisected along a north-south axis flush with the eastern edge of the foundation pier. Due to time constraints, only the east half of the trash pit was excavated. Plastic sheeting was secured to Figure 2-29. Planview drawing of the Feature 31C-Complex. Note the intrusive brick pier.

the pit's west face prior to backfilling to maintain integrity of the unexcavated

portion.

STRATIGRAPHY The trash pit contained seven layers consisting of a series of lenses and deposits of sandy silt, builder's sand, architectural debris and sandy silt, all of differing colors and textures making for very clear layer transitions (Figures 2-30A & B). The deposit as a

133

whole is designated as the 31C-Complex, while individual layers are referenced by their unique provenience designations. Level 1 (31C), the top-most Figure 2-30A. West profile of the Feature 31C-Complex. layer, was a very dark brown sandy silt with 5% mortar and 5% charcoal inclusions and a depth of 0.35 feet. Level 2 (31D) was a thin lens of loose yellowish brown builder's sand, 0.15 feet thick on the north and <0.05 feet on the Figure 2-30B. West profile of the Feature 31C-Complex. Note the electrical grounding rod in the excavated portion and the intrusive brick pier on the surface of the unexcavated portion.

south side. Architectural debris dominated Level 3 (31E), a very compact dark

grayish brown sandy silt 0.5 feet thick on the north, thinning to 0.15 feet on the south side. Level 4 (31F) was a thin (0.1 feet), compact dark grayish brown sandy silt mottled with 40% subsoil, a very compact yellowish red sandy clay. Level 5 (31J) was a second thin lens of loose yellowish brown builder's sand, 0.15 feet thick on the north side, thinning to <0.05 feet on the south side. Level 6 (31K) was a dark brown sandy silt with

134

no mottling and a maximum thickness of 0.75 feet. The bottom-most layer, Level 7 (31L), was a very loose sandy loam varying in thickness from 0.3 to 0.8 feet and contained the highest concentration of architectural and household debris. The high concentration of charcoal (20%) along with artifacts showing evidence of high heat/burning suggests that Level 7 represents a trash burning event. No other layers showed evidence of burning.

DATE OF THE DEPOSIT Starting from the bottom-up, the TPQ date for Level 7 (31L) is 1882 (based on artifact #31L-30, a beer bottle marked “ROBERT PORTNER, ALEXANDRIA, VA – TIVOLI”). Level 6 (31K) dates to circa 1890 (based on artifact #31K-30, an octagonal cobalt blue cosmetic bottle). Level 5 (31J) dates to circa 1870 (based on artifact #31J-42, a wire-drawn nail). Level 4 (31F) dates to 1874 (based on artifact #31F-14, a pressed brass shoe grommet). Level 3 (31E) dates to 1888 (based on artifact #31E-1, a whiteware plate marked “MD POTTERY CO”). Level 2 (31D) dates to circa 1870 (based on artifact #31D-17, a 3-part, dip body molded pharmaceutical bottle). The upper-most layer, Level 1 (31C), dates to 1892 (based on artifact #31C-73, a crown-cap bottle closure). All seven layers of the trash pit contained artifacts with closely-spaced TPQ dates, indicating a creation date sometime between 1892 and 1904. The earlier date is based on the TPQ date from Level 1. Although the possibility always exists that the topmost layer of any feature might contain intrusive materials, thereby artificially causing the date of the feature to appear more recent than it really is, a date of 1892 is consistent with lower

135

Table 2-16. Summary of Artifacts from the Feature 31C-Complex, Sorted by Object Name and MNI Object Name Ammunition, Bullet, .22 Caliber Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .22 Caliber Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .32 Caliber Ammunition, Shot, Lead

MNI 1 6 2 3

Object Name

MNI 1 1 1 2

Hardware, Nut Hardware, Ring Hardware, Scissors Hardware, Stock, Bar

Architectural, Glass, Window

Hardware, Strap

Architectural, Plaster

Hardware, Tack

Architectural, Tile, Roofing

Hardware, Unidentified

Clothing, Buckle, Suspender Clothing, Button

1 1

Hardware, Washer Household Accessory, Fireplace Tool Stand

1 1

Clothing, Button, 2-Hole

Household Accessory, Flowerpot

Clothing, Button, 4-Hole

Lighting, Lamp, Chimney

Clothing, Button, Shank Molded

Lighting, Lamp, Globe

Clothing, Cuff Link

Lighting, Lamp, Shade

Clothing, Fastener, Hook-and-Eye

Personal, Bead

Clothing, Shoe, Grommet

Personal, Jewelry, Unidentified

Clothing, Shoe, Sole Clothing, Snap

2 1

Personal, Mirror Personal, Pocket Knife, 2-Blades

1 1

Clothing, Straight Pin

Personal, Pocket Knife, 3-Blades

Communication, Holder, Pencil

Personal, Umbrella

1 1

Communication, Pencil, Graphite

Personal, Unidentified

Container, Bottle

Personal, Watch, Pocket

Container, Bottle, Beer

Personal, Water Pitcher / Ewer

Container, Bottle, Beverage

Tableware, Bowl

Container, Bottle, Bitters

Tableware, Bowl, Footed-Salt

Container, Bottle, Closure Container, Bottle, Closure, Crown Cap

1 1

Tableware, Bowl, Salt / Sugar Tableware, Bowl, Serving

2 1

Container, Bottle, Closure, Lighting Stopper

Tableware, Cup

Container, Bottle, Closure, Peg Stopper

Tableware, Cup, Tea

Container, Bottle, Condiment

Tableware, Drinking Glass

Container, Bottle, Condiment, Mustard

Tableware, Drinking Glass, Goblet

Container, Bottle, Cosmetic

Tableware, Drinking Glass, Stemware

Container, Bottle, Food

Tableware, Drinking Glass, Tumbler

Container, Bottle, Food, Pickles/Olives Container, Bottle, Medicinal / Pharmaceutical

1 10

Tableware, Flatware Tableware, Hollowware

4 14 11

Container, Bottle, Wine

Tableware, Plate

Container, Bucket, Lead/Solder Pot

Tableware, Plate, Lunch

Container, Can, Cylindrical

Tableware, Saucer

Container, Can, Closure, Removable Lid (non-screw)

Tableware, Unidentified

Container, Can, Closure, Removable Lid (press-fit)

Tableware, Utensil

Container, Can, Closure, Wind-Strip

Tableware, Utensil, Knife

Container, Can, Square / Rectangular Container, Can, Tobacco

4 1

Tobacco, Pipe Tobacco, Pipe, Elbow

1 1

Container, Jar, Lid

Toy, Doll, China Head

Container, Jar, Preserving

Toy, Marble

Electrical, Wire

Toy, Tea Set

1 12

Fauna

n/a

Unidentified, Ceramic

Fauna, Clam Shell

n/a

Unidentified, Glass

Fauna, Oyster Shell

n/a

Unidentified, Metal

Furniture, Caster

Unidentified, Metal, Plate

Furniture, Spring Furniture, Tack

1 4

Unidentified, Object Unidentified, Wood

1 1

Hardware, Bolt

Utilitarian, Bowl

Hardware, Bolt, Eye

Utilitarian, Hollowware

Hardware, Hook, Eye Hook & Staple

Utilitarian, Jar / Crock

Utilitarian, Vessel

Hardware, Nail, Common

334

Hardware, Nail, Finishing

Hardware, Nail, Spike

Total

136

607

levels, particularly Level 3 (1888) and Level 6 (circa 1890). The later date of 1904 is derived from the presence of an intrusive foundation pier associated with an addition to the house at 1904 Marion Street. Although an exact construction date for the addition is not known, the 1904 Sanborn map shows the footprint of the house in-line with the intrusive pier, suggesting that at least that portion of the house was constructed by 1904, and subsequently, the trash pit prior.

DESCRIPTION OF THE ARTIFACTS A full description of the artifacts found in the east-half of the 31C-Complex, organized by Object Name, is detailed in Appendix D. A total of 3,722 artifacts (representing 607 MNI) and 779.8 grams (361 fragments) of faunal material were recovered from the seven levels. In summary, a total of 506 artifacts were recovered from Level 1 (31C); 163 artifacts from Level 2 (31D); 623 artifacts from Level 3 (31E); 59 artifacts from Level 4 (31F); 160 artifacts from Level 5 (31J); 1,405 artifacts from Level 6 (31K); and 807 artifacts from Level 7 (31L). No floral material was recovered from any of the levels. The following discussion, organized by functional type, provides information only as needed in interpreting patterns, sequences of events, or other archaeological phenomena, as well as highlighting artifacts of special note found in the deposit. Table 2-16 presents the same data summarized in terms of Object Names and minimum counts.

PERSONAL ITEMS Including subcategories, a total of 142 artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal group, representing 73 individual items. Items not belonging to a subcategory 137

were a pair of cast iron scissors, two fragments of back-plated mirror glass, a brass spine catch from an umbrella, a 1.25-inch diameter lens ring from a pocket watch, two pocket knives (one with two blades, the other with three), a brass pencil holder, fragments of 3/16-inch diameter graphite pencil lead, the base of a stamped end, machine soldered square tobacco can, and fragments of bowls from two tobacco pipes. One of the pipes was an orange, ribbed Pamplin-style pipe; the other, an undecorated kaolin clay pipe. Lastly, an undecorated whiteware water pitcher or ewer, represented by a rim fragment with a diameter of five-inches (#31K-83), was recovered.

CLOTHING Sixty-six artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal-Clothing group, representing 27 MNI. The most abundant clothing-related artifact was buttons. Nineteen individual buttons were recovered, made of brass (2), shell (3), bone (3), glass (1), and dry-pressed porcelain (prosser) (10). None had makersâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; or back marks; all were plain. Also recovered was a brass suspender buckle marked â&#x20AC;&#x153;*CH. GUYOT*â&#x20AC;? on the back (the '*' represent small stars on the original). No information has been found yet for this manufacturer. The dumb-bell shaped cuff link was of cast white metal. One hook and two eyes from two brass hump-style hook-and-eye fasteners were found, as well as a 1/8-inch brass shoe grommet and a plain, 1/2-inch diameter pressed iron snap. Portions of two shoes or boots were also recovered from the deposit. The fragments were all too small to determine size or style. Both were constructed using bass nails, one with round shanks, the other, square. Interestingly, the heads of the square nails were painted red.

138

FIREARMS Twelve artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal-Firearms group, representing two different calibers of ammunition, a potential piece of jewelry-making byproduct, and two clothing-related items. All metallic cartridge dates are based on the work of Kathleen A. Clardy (2008). A single, unfired .22 caliber bullet was found. The bullet showed no marks indicating how it was removed from the cartridge case. Eight fired cartridge cases were recovered. Of the six .22 caliber rim-fire cartridges, two were short and four were long; four had head stamps with identifiable makers' marks. The two .22 caliber shorts were copper cartridges, measuring 0.247-inches in length, manufactured by Union Metallic Cartridge Company (UMC) between 1867 and 1902. One of the .22 caliber long rifle cartridges was also manufactured by UMC, between 1871 and 1902. It, too, was copper. Of the two long rifle cartridges without head stamps, one was copper, the other brass. Both have a TPQ of 1871, the introduction date of the .22 caliber long rifle cartridge. The remaining .22 caliber long rifle cartridge was brass, also manufactured by UMC between 1871 and 1902. The remaining two cartridges were rim-fire .32 caliber. The first, made of brass, was manufactured by the Winchester Repeating Arms Company (â&#x20AC;&#x153;Hâ&#x20AC;?) sometime after 1867. The second, made of copper, was without a head stamp. It postdates 1860, the introduction date of the .32 caliber cartridge. Only the head was recovered from this last cartridge (#31C-74). As with the two .22 caliber cartridge cases recovered from the Lower level of the lunch counter trash pit, the body of the cartridge was cut-off, possibly to obtain short lengths of tubing for use as beads (see previous discussion).

139

Lastly, three lead shot balls were recovered. Two are 3/8-inch diameter, the other, 5/32inch.

HYGIENE The 30 artifacts in the Figure 2-31. Mystery copper jewelry or household accessory fragment (#31K-29).

Personal-Hygiene group represent 12 different cosmetic and

medicinal/pharmaceutical glass containers. Two cosmetic containers were recovered. The first was an aqua-blue panel bottle with a prescription finish of “HILL'S // HAIR DYE // No. 1” (#31E-31). The second was the base of a cobalt blue polygonal bottle. All 10 of the medicinal/pharmaceutical bottles had either patent or prescription finishes. Six were panel bottles, two were cylindrical, one was a French square, and one was a vial. The vial was embossed with “B. L. // FAHNESTOCK'S // VERMIFUGE” (#31L2). Of the cylindrical bottles, one still had its cork closure intact (#31D-17), although no suggestion of contents remained, and the other embossed with “... ECLIPSE M ...”. Two of the panel bottles were embossed, one with “... HE / E ...” (#31K-56) and the other with “... HOFE ...” (#31J-10 and 11). The French square was a bottle of “Dr. J. Hostetter's Stomach Bitters” (#31C-31), in production between 1870 and 1886.

ORNAMENTAL The Personal-Ornamental group contained four beads and an unidentified piece of jewelry made of brass. The first bead was a yellow glass sphere, diameter 3/16-inch. 140

The second is a clear glass, press-molded, hexagonal bead, 3/16-inch wide and 3/16-inch long. The third was a fragment from a doughnut-shaped blue porcelain bead. The fourth was a black glass, 5/15-inch diameter bead with a molded geometric design. The piece of copper jewelry or household accessory object (#31K-29) is still a mystery (Figure 2-31). Composed of copper sheeting with press-molded design, it may have been part of a necklace. Alternately, it may represent a fragment of an Art Deco-style household object.

SEWING Only one artifact belonging to the Personal-Sewing group was recoveredâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a oneinch brass straight pin with a dome head.

TOYS Five fragments of toys representing four distinct objects were recovered. Two fragments of a child's porcelain tea-set were found, one a cup with a rim diameter of 7/16-inch and the other a fragment of a hollowware vessel, likely a tea pot. Both tea-set fragments were overglaze painted. The head and leg of a china-head doll were also recovered. Both were overglaze-painted porcelain. The head measured 13/16-inch headto-chin, had blue eyes, brown wavy molded hair, rose-colored cheeks, and red lips. The leg had a brown molded shoe with a heel. China-head dolls with heels on their shoes were introduced at the time of the American Civil War (Coleman, et al. 1965). Prior to circa 1865, dolls had flat-soled shoes. The last toy, a 7/16-inch diameter blue glass marble, showed evidence of burning or high heat.

141

KITCHEN ITEMS By far, the greatest number of artifacts recovered from the trash pit belonged to the Kitchen groupâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a total of 2,450 artifacts (nearly 66% of all artifacts recovered from the deposit), representing 136 distinct objects. Table 2-17 summarizes the Kitchen group data in terms of decorative style/technique, while the following discussion focuses on object form/function.

TABLEWARE A total of 298 artifacts, representing 94 objects, fell within the Kitchen-Tableware subgroup. Three utensils were recovered. The first was a table knife with a wood handle, iron core, and a white-metal end piece (#31L-56). The blade was missing. The second was a cast pewter fragment of either a fork or spoon (#31E-22). The third was a base fragment of an iron core belonging to a table knife (#31E-24). This knife likely had a wood handle covering. Nearly 45% of the glass and ceramic artifacts in the Tableware group (133 artifacts) were too fragmented to determine vessel form, even at a hollowware-flatware level. Nonetheless, some forms were identifiable. The majority of identifiable ceramic tablewares were plain or minimallydecorated whiteware objects. Although there was a multitude of different decorative styles represented in the tableware assemblage, these tended to be small fragments, and for the most part, isolated examples. This pattern is partially explained by the characteristics of the ceramics themselves. The plain and minimally-decorated wares tended to be heavier with thick(er) bodies, whereas the highly decorated wares had much thinner bodies. Dropped from the same height, a thick-walled ceramic will tend to break into larger pieces than its thin-walled counterpart. A larger piece is easier to identify. 142

But this only explains

Table 2-17. Summary of Ceramic Kitchen Group Artifacts from the 31C-Complex, Sorted by Surface Decorative Style/Technique MNI

Decorative Style/Technique Porcelain Chinese Export

part of the pattern. There were far more

Transfer Printed, Underglaze, Monochrome

Molded Transfer Printed, Underglaze, Monochrome

2 1

Painted, Overglaze, Monochrome

Plain / Colorless Glaze

plain and minimally-

Refined

decorated fragments than those that were

Stoneware Graniteware Plain / Colorless Glaze

Molded

Albany Slip / Bristol Glaze Alkaline Glazed

1 7

Salt Glazed (American Stoneware)

Earthenware

highly decorated, suggesting the obvious: more plain

Whiteware Annular / Banded, Slipped

Annular / Banded, Slipped – Cable Design

Annular / Banded, Slipped – Mocha

Color Glaze, Opaque Plain / Colorless Glaze

3 24

Flow Transfer Printed

Gilded, Liquid Gold

Molded

tablewares were thrown away than decorated tablewares.

Transfer Printed, Underglaze, Monochrome

Painted, Overglaze, Monochrome

Painted, Underglaze, Polychrome

Sponge / Spatter

Pearlware Transfer Printed, Underglaze, Monochrome

Annular / Banded, Slipped – Cable Design

Plain / Colorless Glaze

The significance of this pattern is explored in Chapter 5. The amount of

Yellowware Plain / Colorless Glaze

Annular / Banded, Slipped

tableware in the trash

deposit was surprising.

Redware Color Glaze, Opaque Total

There were six table bowls, one serving bowl, two salt or sugar bowls, and a footed glass salt bowl. Four cups, five tea cups, one drinking glass, one goblet, two stemware glasses, and four tumblers make up the drinking vessels. There were 11 plates, one lunch plate, and 12 saucers. In addition, there were four pieces of flatware and 14 pieces of hollowware that

143

could not be further identified. Eight pieces of tableware were identified as unique by their decorative style but could not be categorized as either flat or hollowware. Thirtynine of the above 51 identified forms were ceramic. Of these 39, 25 (64%) were plain or minimally-decorated wares. Of the 26 ceramics identified as flatware, hollowware, or unidentified, only two (7.6%) were plain.

UTILITARIAN A total of 2,152 artifacts, representing 57 objects, fell within the KitchenUtilitarian subgroup. The large number of artifacts in this group was largely the product of highly fragmented glass bottles. Utilitarian ceramic vessels (MNI=8) were primarily stoneware, although single fragments of lead-glazed yellowware (clear glaze) and redware (yellow exterior, brown interior glaze) were recovered. Both of these earthenware vessels were hollowware. Also recovered were three alkaline glazed stoneware jars/crocks, a refined brown-paste salt glazed stoneware jar/crock, an alkaline glazed mixing bowl, two alkaline glazed hollowware vessels, and one unidentified alkaline glazed vessel. Only four commercial food bottles were in the trash pitâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a barrel-shaped mustard bottle, a square pickle or olive jar, a Gothic-style condiment bottle with fluted corners, and the rim of a jar that may have once held a condiment or relish. Two preserving jars were found, as well as a 2-3/16-inch diameter pressed glass lid that would have had a wax seal (#31E-37). The two jars were both Mason-style, but fragments that might suggest the actual manufacturer were not recovered. The first jar was represented by an aqua-green base fragment with a diameter of 3-1/8 inch (#31C-44).

144

The second was represented by an aqua-blue finish fragment with external threads (#31D-12), a style introduced in 1858 (Toulouse 1969). Four bottle closures were found in the pit, not including the in situ cork stopper found in the medicinal/pharmaceutical bottle discussed earlier. One was a crown cap, one a lightening stopper, one a pressed glass peg stopper, likely from a sauce bottle, and lastly, a lead bottle seal (#31J-47). The lead seal was smashed, so it was difficult to determine its original size and shape. Alternately, it may be a piece of lead sheeting used for an unknown purpose. Four alcohol bottles were in the deposit. Two of these were beer bottles, one an Albany-type slip glazed stoneware bottle and the other an olive colored bottle embossed with “ROBERT PORTNER, ALEXANDRIA, VA – TIVOLI” (#31L-30). According to various collector websites, Robert Portner distributed beer in this style of bottle from his brewery outside of Washington, D.C. starting in 1882 and ending in 1916 with Prohibition. Interestingly, the bottle appears to have been used as a striking device, evidenced by the small flakes taken off one side of the base. Two dark olive ('black' glass) wine or champaign bottles were also recovered. A minimum of 11 other bottles were recovered, including an intact, locally produced soda, embossed “C.C. HABENIGHT / COLUMBIA / S.C. // RETURN / THIS / BOTTLE” (#31K-15). A blob-top, lightening-stopper finish that matched the Habenight bottle was also found. The remaining nine bottles were too fragmented to determine form, but each represents a unique characteristic not associated with any previously defined bottles, mostly the color of glass, and so are counted as additional containers.

145

Over a third of all

Table 2-18. Cylindrical Can Data from the Feature 31C-Complex Diameter

MNI

1 1/2-inches 1 3/4-inches 1 7/8-inches 2 1/8-inches 2 11/16-inches 3-inches 3 1/16-inches 3 7/16-inches 4 1/16-inches Total

1 1 1 2 1 2 2 2 2

recovered artifacts from

Type

the trash pit were fragments of metal Tomato or pineapple juice Fruit; tomato or pineapple juice

containersâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;1,676

Fruit

fragments, representing 23

MNI. Given the large

number of fragments recovered, 23 MNI was a very conservative count. Metal can closures were of three types: wind-strip (1), removable, non-screw lids (3), and removable, press-fit lid (1). What the removable, non-screw lids were associated with is unknown. Two of them were 5/8-inch high with a diameter of 1-3/4-inches. The third was 1/2 inch high with a diameter of 2 inches. Can fragments neither matched nor mated with the lids. They may have been snuff cans, or possibility cosmetic tins. The press-fit lid was a paint-can style lid with a diameter of 10-inches. Four square/rectangular cans were recovered. Two of these were sardine cans, one was a meat tin, and the other was too fragmented to identify. The meat tin (#31D-47) was a tapered can, hand soldered with rounded corners, with a base of 2 x 2-3/4-inches. The unidentified tin could have been either a meat or tobacco tin. The majority of fragments were parts of cylindrical cans. MNI numbers were determined by end pieces only. After measuring the diameter of each end-piece fragment, they were grouped together by size. The circumference of each fragment per diameter group was then measured, and a minimum number count determined based on the number of complete end pieces that would result if they were joined, understanding

146

that two end pieces are needed for each can counted. The assemblage represents a minimum of 23 individual cans in nine different sizes. Table 2-18 summarizes the cylindrical can data. Interestingly, two can fragments still show evidence of their original lithograph-printed decoration. The first fragment shows red ink (#31E-100), and the other, traces of red, gold, and silver (#31E-101). Unfortunately, the fragments are too small to determine the type of can they were a part of once.

ARCHITECTURAL ITEMS A total of 951 artifacts (358 MNI) related to architecture were recovered, the second most abundant artifact group in the assemblage, most representing nails (723 artifacts, 352 MNI) and window glass (112 artifacts, 13 MNI). Both clear green and colorless window glass was found in multiple thicknesses. Seven thicknesses of clear green glass were recovered: 2 at 1/32; 19 at 4/64; 9 at 3/32; 2 at 7/64; 6 at 1/8; 6 at 9/64; and 4 at 7/32. Six thicknesses of colorless glass were recovered: 11 at 1/32; 8 at 3/64; 25 at 1/16; 11 at 5/64; 8 at 3/32; and 1 at 1/8. It should be noted that some fragments of colorless flat glass might represent non-window glass, like picture frame glass. Interestingly, one fragment of 1/8-inch clear green glass (#31D-9) may have been intentionally shaped. One edge of the shard is chipped, in the manner of a scraper, with a series of smaller chips along the leading edge that may have resulted from use. The nail assemblage consisted of a fragment of a round-head spike, seven machine-cut finishing nails with ovaloid heads, and a range of common nails. Measuring from the top of the nail head to the shank point, four of the finishing nails had a length of 5/8-inch, one was 7/8-inch, and two were 15/16-inch. A total of 333 machine-cut (with a

147

TPQ of 1805) and 18 wire common nails (with a TPQ of circa 1870) were found. Fiftyfive cut nails were complete, representing 16 different sizes. One cut nail was particularly intriguing (#31L-97). It consisted of a flared side running down the center from the base of the head to just below the half-way point on the shank. It is unknown if this is a manufacturing mistake, which seems unlikely given its uniform nature, or an actual type of nail. No discussion of such nail type is known to me. Only three wire nails were complete, all with a length of 1-1/4-inches. An eye-hook and associated staple with wood fragments still attached to the staple was recovered (#31K-33). The hook is of the type used to secure a door, gate, cupboard, or something similar.

INTERIOR Architecture-related artifacts unambiguously associated with the interior of a structure were represented by 74 fragments of plaster. All of the fragments had matte red paint on the front side and evidence of wood-lattice impressions on the reverse. In some cases, wood fibers were still attached to the plaster.

EXTERIOR Architecture-related artifacts unambiguously associated with the exterior of a structure were represented by 27 fragments of slate. Unfortunately, the fragments did not have clear edges and were too small to determine if they represent roofing tile, walkway paving, or some other function.

148

DOMESTIC ITEMS A total of 71 Domestic Group artifacts were recovered, representing a minimum of 15 objects. Four brass furniture tacks with 3/8-inch dome heads were recovered, three with square shanks, one with a cylindrical shank. All were brazed. Other furniture related artifacts consisted of a spring of the type used in upholstered chairs or couches and a cast iron caster with a 9/16-inch diameter wheel. The base of a cast iron fireplace tool stand with scalloped edges was also recovered. The remains of two unglazed earthenware flowerpots were found, one orange and one buff colored. Both were represented by body fragments, so diameter is unknown. At least four lamp chimneys were recovered, two with hand-pressed scalloped rims and two with smooth rims. Two other lighting-related objects were recovered. One was a frosted glass lamp globe and the other was a 12-inch diameter milk-glass lamp shade with a smooth rim.

ELECTRICAL ITEMS The sole electricity-related artifact was a single length of un-insulated (0.103-inch diameter) copper wire with a 1-1/4-inch long tapered end (#31C-77). The wire was most likely a fragment of grounding wire associated with the electrical grounding rod that intruded upon the feature, discussed in more detail under the primary header 'Infrastructure.'

OTHER ITEMS Also recovered were a number of artifacts that did not fit neatly into any of the above functional categories. Most of these artifacts are hardware related and all are metal. Not included here are artifact fragments classified as 'Unidentified.' Five iron 149

Table 2-19. Taxa Representation, Feature 31C-Complex Taxon/Class FOOD BONES Mammal Cow; Bos Pig; Sus scrofa Ovis aries/Capra hircus Aves Chicken;Gallus gallus Unidentified Aves Pisces Mollusk SIZE GRADED FRAGMENTS Sheep/Pig sized (Class V) Cow sized (Class VI) TOTAL

NISP

%NISP

bolts, including an

Weight (g)

%Weight

30 27 5

8.31 7.48 1.39

352.4 87.8 35.8

45.19 11.26 4.59

3 15 2 1

0.83 4.16 0.55 0.28

1.2 9.2 1.1 1

0.15 1.18 0.14 0.13

153 125 361

42.38 34.63

87.4 203.9 779.8

11.21 26.15

eye-bolt, were recovered. Unfortunately, they were all too correlated to determine thread count or pitch.

Associated with the bolts was an iron nut. What the small brass washer (O.D.=1/4-inch; I.D.=1/16-inch) may have been a part of is unknown. Two fragments of one-inch wide iron bars were also recovered one 1/4-inch thick, the other 1/16-inch thick. The function of the slightly conical iron ring, with a diameter of 6-inches at one end and 5-1/2-inches at the other, was a mystery. Recovered were four widths of iron strapping, like the kind used on barrels, containers, and packaging. Widths were 3/8-inch, 1/2-inch, 3/4-inch, and 11/16-inch. Several fragments of the 3/4-inch strap were fastened with rivets. Most intriguing were rim fragments from a 15-inch diameter bucket (#31L-62 and 65). What makes them interesting is a coating of melted lead along the interior of the bucket and lead drippings along the top of the rim and down the outside surface. Most likely this bucket is the remains of a lead pot, probably used for sealant, potentially on the roof along flashing. Since this feature pre-dates running water at the house, a plumbingrelated function is unlikely.

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FAUNA

Table 2-20. Beef Cuts, Feature 31C-Complex

The following Rank a 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Cut Short Loin Rib/Sirloin Round Rump/Chuck Brisket/Plate Foreshank/Hindshank/Arm Neck/Head Foot

After Azizi et al. 1996

Minimum Number of Meat Cuts

MNMC b 2 6 4 3 3 4 2 2

%MNMC 8.33 25 16.67 12.5 12.5 16.67 8.33 8.33

discussion of faunal remains is extracted verbatim from Faunal Report for MannSimons by Diane Wallman (2010).

Table 2-21. Pork Cuts, Feature 31C-Complex

The Feature Rank a 1 2 3 4 5 6

Cut Ham Loin/Rib End Boston Butt Picnic/Shank Ham Spareribs/Side/Hock Head/Jowl /Foot

After Azizi et al. 1996

Minimum Number of Meat Cuts

MNMC b 1 1 3 2 0 5

%MNMC 8.33 8.33 25 16.67 0 41.67

31C-Complex yielded 361 bone fragments (779.8g), comprised mostly of domestic mammal remains

Table 2-22. Sheep/Goat Cuts, Feature 31C-Complex

(Table 2-19). Cow Rank 1 2 3 4 5 6

Cut Loin Rack Shank End Chuck/Butt End Neck Shank/Foot/Head

After Azizi et al. 1996

Minimum Number of Meat Cuts

MNMC 0 0 0 1 0 2

%MNMC 0 0 0 33.33 0 66.66

was the most common species within this feature, and likely contributed the most

to household consumption (45% of bone weight). This feature contained relatively few avian remains, with a minimum number of one chicken identified within the assemblage, and only 18 total avian specimens.

151

Cattle remains are the most common domestic mammal remains within this deposit, comprising almost 50% of the frequency and 70% of the identified medium and large mammal species. In terms of relative abundance, pork cuts are also common within this assemblage, while relatively few sheep/goat remains were identified in this feature. This deposit contained a diverse range of beef cuts, with all standard retail butchery cuts represented in the assemblage (Table 2-20), and no apparent correlation to cost. Sirloin and round cuts dominate the assemblage, which are represented largely by ‘steak cuts’ in the feature, that is, thinner, individual cuts of meat indicated by thin bone segments with sawed ends. The pork bones from this feature are dominated by Boston butt cuts, which were a moderately priced portion of the animal (Table 2-21). Interestingly, cuts from the foot and head of the pig, which were likely cured, are common in this deposit. Pig feet were a very marketable cut in the 19th century in both urban and rural deposits (Cheek and Friedlander 1990; Henry 1987a: 23). While for cattle and sheep/goat, animal heads are often not considered “marketable” cuts (Bowen 1998: 141; Henry 1987a: 23; Rothschild and Balkwell 1993), pig’s head is an ingredient in common 19th-century dishes, such as scrapple and head-cheese (Devoe 1867: 96). Few sheep/goat remains were recovered from this feature (Table 2-22). Surprisingly, however, the sheep/goat remains that were identified represent the foot and head of a single animal. The presence of these elements may suggest on-site slaughtering and/or butchery of a sheep/goat.

152

TRASH PIT (FEATURE 34C34C-COMPLEX) A small trash pit was discovered in the southeast quadrant of Block 1 (Features 34C/D/E; Figure 232), 6.75 feet (center point) east of the rear wall of the house at 1904 Marion Street. It is one of only three features discovered in this portion of the yard not related to architecture, posts, or infrastructure (the other two being a charcoal stain and the previously discussed Feature 31C-Complex trash pit). Roughly circular, the pit measured 2.3 feet north-south and 2.5 feet eastFigure 2-32. Planview illustration of the Feature 34C-Complex uncovered in Block 1.

west with a depth of 1.62 feet below stratum 34B. The pit had been cleanly

bisected by a modern trench associated with a sprinkler system (F3) cut with a ditchwench. Running north-south across the entire block with a width of 0.45 feet and a depth of 1.1 feet, the trench was fully excavated prior to excavating the pit.

STRATIGRAPHY The trash pit contained three deposits consisting of a shallow outer ring (Feature 34E) and two inner fill layers (Figure 2-33). The outer ring was a compact shallow

153

depression of silty sand varying in width from 0.25 feet maximum to 0.05 feet minimum, and varying in depth from 0.15 feet along the western edge to 0.02 feet along the eastern edge. Both inner fill layers were composed of very loose soils and excavated with a spoon. The upper layer (34C) was a mottled very dark brown sandy silt containing 20% charcoal inclusions transitioning into a dark yellowish brown silt. The lower layer (34D) was a very dark gray sand with few charcoal inclusions. Since the pit had been bisected by the sprinkler trench, it was excavated along this bisection line. The east half was removed first, but because of the high artifact concentration it was not until the west profile was exposed that two distinct layers were noticeable. Artifacts from both inner fill layers were bagged together; those from the outer ring (34E) were kept separate from the inner fill.

DATE OF THE DEPOSIT The TPQ for the deposit is 1907, based on two comb fragments made of Bakelite plastic (#34C-78 and 34C-79). Although Bakelite was in common use into the early 1970s (Meikle 1995), two South Carolina Dispensary bottles (#34C-21 and 34C-22) suggest that the deposit was created a short time after the introduction of Bakelite. The South Carolina Dispensary operated from 1892 to 1907 (Huggins 1997). Assuming the occupants of the site did not curate the two bottles of Dispensary whiskey for more than a year or two, the deposit seems to have been created sometime between late 1907 and early 1909. This also suggests that someone at the site acquired the two combs as soon as Bakelite was introduced, a theme I return to in Chapters 4 and 5.

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DESCRIPTION ESCRIPTION OF THE ARTIFACTS A full description of the artifacts found in the 34C-Complex, organized by Object Name, is detailed in Appendix D. A total of 3,595 artifacts (representing 493 MNI) were recovered from the pit, including 658 fish scales, 403 egg shell fragments, and three oyster shells. A faunal analysis has not yet been undertaken for this feature. No floral material was recovered. The following discussion, organized by functional type, provides information only as needed in interpreting patterns, sequences of events, or other archaeological phenomena, as well as highlighting artifacts of special note found in the deposit. Table 2-23 presents the same data summarized in terms of Object Names and minimum counts.

PERSONAL ITEMS Including subcategories, a total of 113 artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal group, representing 67 individual items. Items not belonging to a subcategory included stem fragments from a kaolin / ball clay tobacco pipe, bone spine fragments from an umbrella with copper joints, a mirror, two Bakelite combs, and five items related to communication: two slate pencils, a ruled writing slate, a round graphite pencil lead, and a copper eraser holder.

CLOTHING Thirty-four artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal-Clothing group, representing 33 MNI. Two pieces of lead shot were recovered, with diameters of 1/4and 3/16-inch. Lead shot was commonly used as dress or jacket weights. Two fragments of a leather shoe sole were recovered. The sole was pegged with square-shank brass 155

Table 2-23. Summary of Artifacts from Feature 34C-Complex, Sorted by Object Name and MNI Object Name Ammunition, Bullet, .32 Caliber Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .32 Caliber Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .38 Caliber Ammunition, Shot

MNI 1 1 1 2

Object Name Hardware, Wire Hardware, Wire, Bailing Lighting, Arc, Carbon Rod Lighting, Lamp, Burner, Kerosene

MNI 1 1 3 1

Architectural, Mortar

Lighting, Lamp, Chimney

Architectural, Plaster

Lighting, Lamp, Font

Architectural, Tile

Personal, Badge/Medal

Clothing, Button, 2-Hole Clothing, Button, 2-Piece

1 1

Personal, Comb Personal, Jewelry

2 1

Clothing, Button, 4-Hole

Personal, Jewelry, Bead

Clothing, Button, Collar

Personal, Jewelry, Earing/Pendent

Clothing, Button, Loop-Shank

Personal, Jewelry, Wire

Clothing, Grommet

Personal, Mirror

Clothing, Shoe, Sole

Personal, Umbrella

Clothing, Straight Pin

Personal, Water Basin

Communication, Eraser, Holder Communication, Pencil, Graphite

1 1

Shell, Egg Shell, Oyster

n/a 3 8

Communication, Pencil, Slate

Shell, Snail

Communication, Writing Slate

Tableware, Bowl

Container, Bottle

Tableware, Cup

Container, Bottle, Condiment

Tableware, Cup, Tea

Container, Bottle, Liquor/Whiskey

Tableware, Hollowware

5 3

Container, Bottle, Medicinal/Pharmaceutical

Tableware, Plate

Container, Bottle, Wine

Tableware, Saucer

Container, Can Container, Can, Closure, Removable Lid, Screw

11 1

Tableware, UID Tobacco, Pipe

4 1

Container, Can, Closure, Wind-Strip

Toy, Doll

Container, Can, Square/Rectangular

Toy, Doll, China Head

Container, Closure, Peg Stopper

Toy, Marble

Container, Personal, Vaseline

Toy, Vehicle, Wheel

Electrical, Wire

UID, Ceramic

UID, Glass

UID, Metal UID, Metal, Rod

6 2

Firearm, Rifle Fish, Scales Hardware, Bolt, Carriage Bolt

1 n/a 1

Hardware, Door Knob

UID, Slate

Hardware, Hook

UID, Tubing

UID, Wood

Hardware, Hose, Spring Hose Hardware, Nail, Common

1 326

Hardware, Ring

Hardware, Screen

Hardware, Screw, Wood Hardware, Strap

4 3

Utilitarian, Container

Utilitarian, UID

1 Total

494

nails. Likely associated with the same shoe, 22 brass grommets, with an outer diameter of 1/4-inch and inner diameter of 1/8-inch, were also found. The remaining eight clothing items were buttons: a loop-shank button with a brass backing and a faceted dome milk-glass front; a prosser collar button; four white prosser 4-hole sew-through disc

156

buttons of diameters 7/16-inch (2), 3/8-inch, and 11/16-inch; and two 2-hole sew-through disc buttons, one prosser and one ferrous-alloy, both of 1/2-inch diameter.

FIREARMS Nine artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal-Firearms group, representing four individual objects. Two calibers of ammunition were found, represented by a fired .38 caliber centerfire cartridge case, a fired .32 caliber rimfire cartridge case, and an unfired .32 caliber bullet. Neither of the cartridges had headstamps. Six artifacts represent a highly-fragmented rifle of unknown type/make.

HYGIENE The 22 artifacts in the Personal-Hygiene group belong to five individual items: a small bottle of Vaseline produced by the Chesebrough Manufacturing Company (#34C23); a bottle of â&#x20AC;&#x153;SCOTT'S EMULSION // COD LIVER OIL // WITH LIME & SODAâ&#x20AC;? (#34C-30); a bottle of Dr. J. Hostetters Stomach Bitters (#34C-24); and a bottle of patent medicine produced by the John C. West Co. of Chicago, IL (#34C-29).

ORNAMENTAL Ten artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal-Ornamental group, representing five individual objects. Ornamental objects included six fragments from a stamped copper suspension for a one-inch ribbon, a fragment of a copper pin that may have been from a broach, a black multi-faceted glass bead of 5/16-inch diameter, a small molded parian earring or pendent in the form of what appears to be a baby's face, and a coiled length of 1/32-inch diameter copper jewelry wire. 157

SEWING Only one artifact was recovered belonging to the Personal-Sewing group—a oneinch stainless-steel straight pin with a flat head.

TOYS Eleven artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal-Toys group, representing a minimum of nine objects. Most of these were marbles. Three marbles were of kaolin/ball clay (one with a green opaque glaze), two were hand-molded buffcolored earthenware, and one was white porcelain. Two “china-head” dolls were found, including an unglazed porcelain arm and fragments from the head of a second doll. The head fragments were pink painted overglaze porcelain. The last toy was a cast iron spoke-and-hub wheel of 1-3/4-inch diameter. The wheel could be from a train, wagon, tractor, or similar toy vehicle.

KITCHEN ITEMS A total of 1,236 artifacts were recovered belonging to the Kitchen group, representing 49 individual items. Table 2-24 summarizes the Kitchen group ceramic data in terms of decorative style/technique, while the following discussion focuses on object form/function.

TABLEWARE A total of 81 artifacts, representing 22 objects, fell within the Kitchen-Tableware subgroup. Four pieces of tableware were identified as unique by their decorative style 158

but could not be

Table 2-24. Summary of Ceramic Kitchen Group Artifacts from Feature 34C-Complex, Sorted by Surface Decorative Style/Technique MNI

Decorative Style/Technique Porcelain

categorized as either flat or hollowware.

Refined Painted, Overglaze, Monochrome

Gilded, Liquid Gold

Plain / Colorless Glaze

Stoneware

Three of these were whitewares (two

Graniteware Molded

Alkaline Glazed Earthenware

Whiteware Annular / Banded, Slipped – Trailed

Plain / Colorless Glaze

Flow Transfer Printed

Gilded, Liquid Gold Edge Decorated

1 1

Transfer Printed, Underglaze, Monochrome

Painted, Underglaze, Polychrome

Yellowware

transferprinted, one underglaze painted) and one was refined porcelain with a “liquid gold” band.

Plain / Colorless Glaze Total

Five whiteware vessels

were identified as hollowware. One of these was an annular / banded slipware, one a blue flown transferprint, and three were undecorated. One whiteware cup and two tea cups (one whiteware, one graniteware) were recovered, along with three plates (two of whiteware, one porcelain), five saucers (one graniteware, three of whiteware, and one porcelain), a whiteware bowl, and an 18-inch diameter whiteware water basin.

UTILITARIAN A total of 1,155 artifacts, representing 27 objects, fell within the KitchenUtilitarian subgroup. The vast majority of these were tin can fragments. Unidentifiable can fragments were 895, or just under 78% of all Kitchen-Utilitarian artifacts. Identifiable cans included three square/rectangular cans of indeterminate size and 11 cylindrical cans. Can data is summarized in Table 2-25. Can closures were two:

159

Table 2-25. Cylindrical Can Data from Feature 34C-Complex Diameter

MNI

1 3/4-inches 2 1/8-inches 2 11/16-inches 3-inches 3 1/16-inches 4 1/16-inches 6 3/16-inches 10-inches

1 1 2 1 1 2 1 1

fragments of a wind-strip and a screw-lid of

Type

indeterminate size. Tomato or pineapple juice Fruit or tomato/pineapple juice Fruits Fruits or vegetables

Ceramic items included an alkaline-glazed stoneware container and a fragment

Total

of a yellowware vessel. A minimum of eight bottles were recovered: one Plain-style condiment bottle; two South Carolina Dispensary whiskey bottles; a dark-olive wine bottle; a Blake-style bottle; a Philadelphia Oval bottle; and two bottles of indeterminate form. The last Utilitarian item was a peg stopper by Nestle, embossed with â&#x20AC;&#x153;EXTR. / BOUILLON / MAGGIâ&#x20AC;?.

ARCHITECTURAL ITEMS A total of 762 artifacts (329 MNI) related to architecture were recovered, most representing nails (707 artifacts, 326 MNI). Both cut and wire nails were in the deposit, represented evenly by 107 cut nails, 108 wire nails, and 111 nails of indeterminate type.

INTERIOR Architecture-related artifacts unambiguously associated with the interior of a structure were represented by 10 fragments of mortar and 34 fragments of plaster. The interior surfaces of the mortar fragments were painted a red or dark pink, and the plaster was tinted pink.

160

EXTERIOR Architecture-related artifacts unambiguously associated with the exterior of a structure were represented by 11 fragments of slate tile. It is unknown if the tile is roofing or paving.

DOMESTIC ITEMS A total of 43 Domestic Group artifacts were recovered, representing a minimum of 6 objects. The Domestic assemblage included a fragment of a decorative Parian object, a porcelain door handle overglaze painted in a red cross-hatch pattern, fragments from two lamp chimneys, an Eagle-style burner from a kerosene lamp manufactured by the Plume & Atwood Co., and the upper half of an unmarked cast iron bell-shaped lamp font.

ELECTRICAL ITEMS Ten artifacts represented the four electrical objects recovered: two fragments of 7/64-inch diameter un-insulated solid-core copper wire and eight fragments (3 MNI) of 1/2-inch carbon rods for an arc-lamp. The carbon rods were painted green. The manufacturer of green-painted rods is unknown.

OTHER ITEMS Also recovered were a number of artifacts that did not fit neatly into any of the above functional categories. Most of these artifacts were hardware-related. Not included here are artifact fragments classified as 'Unidentified.' Fasteners included a 1/2-inch carriage bolt, four gimlet-pointed wood screws, three widths of ferrous-alloy packaging 161

straps, and two diameters of bailing wire. Other items included 105 fragments of 1/16inch iron mesh screen, a 10-inch hand-made iron hook, a one-inch cast iron ring, and a spring hose Figure 2-34A. Planview illustration of the Feature 49J-Complex uncovered in Block 1.

of gray rubber wrapped in an iron spring.

TRASH PIT (FEATURE 49J49JCOMPLEX) A large trash pit was discovered in the southeast quadrant of Block 2, eight feet (from center point) west of the Figure 2-34B. Planview photograph of the 49JComplex.

1407-1/2 Richland Street structure (Figures 2-34A & B). Like the

majority of features encountered in the southeast quadrant of Block 2, the Feature 49JComplex was overlaid by planting/garden areas. Nearly a perfect circle, the diameter of the pit at the surface was 4.1-feet, at the base a diameter of 3.65-feet, and a maximum depth of 0.75-feet below the garden features 45C, 50H, and 53C. It was intruded upon by two features, both wooden posts lacking postholes (Features 49T and 49U). What these posts were once a part of is unknown. The trash pit was bisected along the east-west axis

162

Figure 2-35. South profile illustration of the Feature 49J-Complex. to generate a profile of the stratigraphy. While excavating the north-half, a second trash pit feature, designated as 48N, was discovered below the 49J-Complex. Soil differentiation between the 49J-Complex and the 48N feature was clear, with no mixing of associated artifacts.

STRATIGRAPHY The trash pit contained four layers consisting of a series of mixed deposits of differing colors and textures (Figure 2-35). Artifact cross-mends were found throughout the deposit, suggesting a single or rapid deposition event. The deposit as a whole is designated as the 49J-Complex, while individual layers are referenced by their unique provenience designations. Artifacts from all layers were cataloged under the provenance 49J. The top-most layer, 49J, was a black (10YR 2/1) loose silty sand, mottled with 10% charcoal flecks, 10% brick fragments, and less than 5% mortar. Level 2 was a very 1% brick fragments, and <1% mortar and plaster fragments. Level 3 was a dark brown (7.5YR 3/2) sandy clay, mottled with 10% brown (7.5YR 4/4) sandy loam, 1% yellowish 163

red (5YR 4/6), and 5% charcoal flecks. Level 4, a thin interface between Level 3 and subsoil, was a very dark brown (7.5YR 2.5/3) sandy clay mottled with 15% yellowish red (5YR 4/6) sandy clay (subsoil) with 1% charcoal flecks.

DATE OF THE DEPOSIT The TPQ for the deposit is 1907, based on a pair of Bakelite plastic pistol grips (49J-310). The deposit also contained a significant number of locally produced beer, liquor and soda pop bottles, the majority of which were manufactured during the first decade of the twentieth century (Jester and Teal 1976). Companies represented include Best Beverage Co. (1905-1908), J.C. Seegers (1890-1901), F.W. Seegers (1899-1908), L.L. Bultman (1904-1908), Charles Narey (1893-1904), W.H. Griffin (1900-1906), C.C. Habenicht (1879-1898), and the S.C. Dispensary (1892-1907). The bottle dates in tandem with Bakelite suggest that the deposit was created sometime between 1907 and 1908/9.

DESCRIPTION OF THE ARTIFACTS A full description of the artifacts found in the 49J-Complex, organized by Object Name, is detailed in Appendix D. A total of 6,661 artifacts (representing 821 MNI) and a fragment of a peanut shell were recovered from the pit. No faunal material was found in the pit. The following discussion, organized by functional type, provides information only as needed in interpreting patterns, sequences of events, or other archaeological phenomena, as well as highlighting artifacts of special note found in the deposit.

164

Table 2-26. Summary of Artifacts from Feature 49J-Complex, Sorted by Object Name and MNI Object Name Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .22 Caliber Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .32 Caliber Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .38 Caliber Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .44 Caliber

MNI 3 16 5 2

Object Name Container, Bottle, Soda Pop Container, Bottle, Soda Pop / Water Container, Bottle, Wine/Champaign Container, Can

MNI 2 3 1 16

Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .44-40 Caliber

Container, Can, Hole-In-Top

Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .45-70 Caliber

Container, Can, Lid, Non-Screw

2 1

Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .577 Caliber

Container, Can, Square / Rectangular

Animal, Tack, Horseshoe Architectural, Glass, Window

1 3

Container, Jar, Closure, Lid Liner Container, Jar, Preserving

1 5

Architectural, Mortar

Container, Personal, Cosmetic / Hygiene

Architectural, Plaster

Electrical, Bulb, Incandescent

Architectural, Tile

Electrical, Insulator, Tube

Architectural, Tile, Roofing

Electrical, Receptacle, Lamp, Wall

Clothing, Buckle

Firearm, Revolver, .22 Caliber

Clothing, Buckle, Suspender

Flora, Nut, Peanut

Clothing, Button Clothing, Button, 1-Hole

2 2

Hardware, Bolt, Carriage Hardware, Bolt, UID

2 1

Clothing, Button, 4-Hole

Hardware, Bracket, Triangular

Clothing, Button, Collar

Hardware, Bracket, UID

Clothing, Button, Loop-Shank

Hardware, Chain, Jack Chain

Clothing, Clip

Hardware, Fastener, UID

Clothing, Cloth

Hardware, File, Finishing

Clothing, Fastener, UID

Hardware, Handle, Drawer Pull

Clothing, Grommet

Hardware, Hinge, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Tâ&#x20AC;?

Clothing, Rivet Clothing, Safety Pin

2 2

Hardware, Hinge, Butt Hardware, Hook

1 4

Clothing, Shoe

Hardware, Hook, Coat / Hat

Clothing, Shoe, Hook

Hardware, Nail

Clothing, Snap

Hardware, Nail, Common

Clothing, Straight Pin

Hardware, Nail, Finishing

Communication, Pencil, Graphite

Hardware, Nail, Roofing

8 289

Communication, Pencil, Slate

Hardware, Nail, Spike

Container, Bottle Container, Bottle, Beer

20 15

Hardware, Ring Hardware, Screw, Wood

5 3

Container, Bottle, Beverage

Hardware, Spring

Container, Bottle, Bitters

Hardware, Staple

Container, Bottle, Closure, Crown Cap

Hardware, Strap

Container, Bottle, Closure, Lightening Stopper

Hardware, Strap, Barrel

Container, Bottle, Closure, Peg Stopper

Hardware, UID

Container, Bottle, Closure, Screw Cap

Hardware, Wire

Container, Bottle, Closure, Thumb Screw Container, Bottle, Condiment, Ketchup

1 2

Hardware, Wire, Bailing Household Accessory, Flowerpot

1 2

Container, Bottle, Condiment, Spice / Extract

Household Accessory, Furniture, Escutcheon

Container, Bottle, Cosmetic

Lighting, Arc, Carbon Rod

Container, Bottle, Food

Lighting, Lamp, Burner

Container, Bottle, Food, Olive

Lighting, Lamp, Chain, Pull

Container, Bottle, Ink

Lighting, Lamp, Chimney

Container, Bottle, Liquor / Whiskey

Lighting, Lamp, Gas Key

Container, Bottle, Medicinal/Pharmaceutical

Lighting, Lamp, Shade

165

Table 2-26 (continued). Summary of Artifacts from Feature 49J-Complex, Sorted by Object Name and MNI Object Name Lighting, Switch Plate, Button / Twist

MNI 1

Object Name

MNI 9

Tableware, Plate

Personal, Bead

Tableware, Saucer

Personal, Bead, Seed

Tableware, Tureen, Lid

10 1

Personal, Chamber Pot Personal, Comb, Hair Clip Personal, Fob, Slider Personal, Handbag, Chatelaine Personal, Jewelry, Broach Personal, Jewelry, Gemstone Personal, Jewelry, Wire Personal, Pin Back Personal, Pocket Knife, 1-Blade Personal, Toothbrush Personal, Water Basin Plumbing, Pipe, Sewer Tableware, Bowl Tableware, Bowl, Candy Tableware, Bowl, Footed-Salt Tableware, Bowl, Serving Tableware, Cup Tableware, Cup, Tea Tableware, Drinking Glass Tableware, Drinking Glass, Cup Tableware, Flatware Tableware, Hollowware

1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 1 2 2 1 2 1 1 1 8 2 3 2 4 15

Tableware, UID Tableware, Utensil, Knife, Table Tobacco, Pipe Tobacco, Pipe, Pamplin-Style Tobacco, Spittoon Toy, Doll Toy, Doll, China-Head Toy, Doll, Figurine Toy, Marble Toy, Tea Set, Jug UID UID, Ceramic UID, Glass UID, Metal UID, Paper UID, Rubber UID, Synthetic UID, Wood Utilitarian, Bowl Utilitarian, Hollowware

4 1 1 6 1 2 2 1 5 1 1 2 7 6 1 1 1 1 2 9 Total

822

Table 2-26 presents the same data summarized in terms of Object Names and minimum counts.

PERSONAL ITEMS Including subcategories, a total of 289 artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal group, representing 186 individual itemsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the largest collection of Personal items from any feature at the site. Items not belonging to a subcategory were included: a celluloid hair clip in a tortoise-shell design; the brass clasp from a chatelaine-type lady's handbag; a three-inch, one blade iron pocket knife; and two undecorated whiteware water basins, 10- and 12-inch in diameter. Nine artifacts representing five individual objects were related to communication, including a conical aqua-blue ink bottle, two 3/16-inch diameter slate pencils, a 3/32-inch 166

diameter graphite lead fragment, and a copper pencil holder. The pencil holder, incised with vertical ribs, contained a pencil stub fitted with a white eraser held in place with a copper band. Related to tobacco, 31 artifacts were recovered belonging to a minimum of eight objects. The Rockingham ware spittoon, with a yellowware paste measuring 7-inches in diameter and 3-1/2-inches tall, was decorated with the molded profile of a female figure. The kaolin / ball clay stem fragment with a 5/64-inch bore was undecorated. Six Pamplin-style pipes were recovered. The four unglazed pipes all had a buff paste, three of which were mold decorated, one with vertical ribs, one with raised diamonds, and one unidentified pattern. The other two Pamplin pipes had a brown glaze, one molded with a vertical rib design.

CLOTHING Related to clothing were 95 artifacts, representing 82 individual objects. The cotton cloth found was rolled in a loose ball and was very fragile. The weave type is unidentified. Six buckles were recovered: one ferrous-alloy rectangular buckle measured 1-1/2 x 7/8-inch, a second measured 1 x 15/16-inch; of the three brass suspender buckles, two were undecorated, one was silver plated. The small, spring-loaded copper, zincplated clip was of the type used to hold up stockings. The small, copper fastener of unknown typename was of the type used to secure a brassiere, etc. (#49J-411). Also found were two brass rivets, one embossed with â&#x20AC;&#x153;PATENTED APR 21 '96 & SEP 11 '96â&#x20AC;?, and two snaps, one brass and one iron.

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The leather shoe fragments had square brass nails with brass grommets attached. Thirty-five loose brass grommets were also recovered, of diameters 3/16, 7/32, and 1/4inches, and a single iron grommet of diameter 1/4-inch. The last shoe-related item was a brass shoelace hook. The remaining 30 objects were all buttons. The copper loop-shank button was dome-shaped and embossed with a lion in a shield on the face with a backstamp of “HORSTMANN PHILADELPHIA” (1893-1935). Four collar buttons were found, three prosser and a brass, gold-plated button embossed with “THE CROWN...” on the face of the link. Two buttons were composites with missing shanks, one of shell and brass, the other cloth-covered iron. The others were all sew-through buttons: two one-hole shell buttons, one 4-hole bone button, and 20 4-hole prosser buttons of various sizes.

FIREARMS Thirty-six artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal-Firearms group, representing 36 individual items. The 35 cartridge cases represent six different calibers of ammunition. Three were .22 caliber rimfire cartridges, one made by the Union Metallic Cartridge Co. (UMC). Fourteen were .32 caliber centerfire cartridges, 12 of which were extra-short cartridges produced by Smith & Wesson. Two were .32 caliber rimfire cartridges, one produced by UMC, both of which had the head cut from the cartridge tube. Four cartridges were .38 caliber centerfire, two of Smith & Wesson, and two of Colt Long—all four were made by UMC. The unfired .38 caliber rimfire cartridge had the head cut from the cartridge tube. Four .44 caliber cartridges were recovered: a rimfire cartridge with the head removed, produced by the US Cartridge Co.; a centerfire

168

cartridge produced by the Frankford Armory in May 1904; and two .44-40 centerfire cartridges produced by UMC. The four .45-70 caliber centerfire cartridges were each produced by a Figure 2-36. Cocked and loaded .22 caliber pistol recovered from the 49J-Complex trash pit (#49J-310).

different manufacturer: Winchester Repeating

Arms Co., US Cartridge Co., Frankford Armory, and one unmarked. The remaining cartridge was an unmarked centerfire .577 caliber cartridge. One of the most unusual artifacts recovered from the site was an intact .22 caliber â&#x20AC;&#x153;pocketâ&#x20AC;? revolver, measuring 51/4-inch in length, with checkered Bakelite Figure 2-37. "American Federation of Labor" celluloid pinback (#49J-343).

grips (Figure 2-36). The manufacturer is unknown, as the pistol had no markings,

but is of an inexpensive type widely produced during the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. Even more unusual than finding an intact firearm was that the revolver was apparently thrown away cocked and loaded. Two of the six cartridges,

169

manufactured by UMC, had been fired. The Bakelite grips place the earliest date of manufacture as 1907. Given that the 49J-Complex trash pit was created in 1908 or 1909, the pistol was still relatively new when thrown away.

HYGIENE The 55 artifacts in the Personal-Hygiene group represent 24 different cosmetic, hygiene, and medicinal/pharmaceutical items. Recovered were a 9-inch diameter undecorated whiteware chamber pot, a hand-drilled bone toothbrush, and a 1/2-inch tall milk-glass container embossed “... KER ...”. The remaining Hygiene items were bottles. Three of the bottles were from local druggists: a Golden Gate Oval bottle embossed “L.C. LIPSCOMB / COLUMBIA / S.C” (in business between 1901 and 1924); a French Square bottle embossed “W.C. FISHER / DRUGGIST / COLUMBIA / S.C.” (in business between 1871 and 1908); and a panel bottle embossed “RICHLAND DRUG CO / COLUMBIA SC” (in business between 1899 and 1938). Two bottles were embossed “CHATTANOOGA MEDICINE CO. // WINE OF CARDUI” (a compound meant to help with menstrual cramps). A cobalt blue bottle embossed with “BROMO-SELTZER” was also found. Unmarked bottles, or bottles with marks too fragmented to identify, included: a colorless round pomade bottle; a Salamander Oval bottle with prescription finish; two Blake bottles, one with a prescription finish, the other with a collard ring finish; seven panel bottles, four with prescription finishes, three with patent finishes; and two bottles represented by finishes only, a prescription finish and a packer finish.

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ORNAMENTAL Seventeen artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal-Ornamental group, representing 10 individual objects. Beads included two white milk-glass spheres of 3/16inch diameter and two colorless seed beads. An ornate cast brass slider for a 3/4-inch wide ribbon was found, as well as a small brass broach, a diamond-cut black glass gemstone, and a length of copper 1/32-inch diameter jewelry wire. Two pinbacks were also found. The first, 7/8-inch in diameter, had an iron back and celluloid face. Unfortunately, whatever was printed on the face was gone. The face of the second pinback, 1-1/4-inch in diameter, was in better shape (Figure 2-37). On the face was printed “American Federation of Labor” around the Federation's logo.

SEWING Five artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal-Sewing group, representing five objects: two copper 1-1/4-inch straight pins, one copper 1-3/4-inch straight pin, and two Duplex-style brass safety pins.

TOYS Fifteen artifacts were recovered belonging to the Personal-Toys group, representing 10 individual objects. Four of the five marbles were of kaolin / ball clay, three unglazed and one with a brown mineral slip. The other marble was glass with a polychrome “cat's-eye” inner swirl. Fragments from four different dolls were also recovered, two of which were “china-head” dolls, and two of indeterminate type, each represented by a hand fragment. The remaining toy was an unusual porcelain

171

“moonshine” style

Table 2-27. Summary of Ceramic Kitchen Group Artifacts from Feature 49J-Complex, Sorted by Surface Decorative Style/Technique

jug with a brown MNI

Decorative Style/Technique Porcelain

mineral slip,

Refined Molded

Painted, Overglaze, Monochrome

measuring 13/16-

Painted, Overglaze, Polychrome Transfer Printed, Underglaze, Monochrome

1 1

inch high and 1/2-

Plain / Colorless Glaze

Stoneware Graniteware

Albany Slip / Bristol Glaze

Alkaline Glazed

Mineral Slipped

Salt Glazed Earthenware

inch in diameter.

KITCHEN ITEMS Including

Catawba Burnished

Whiteware Annular / Banded, Slipped – Trailed

subcategories, a

Plain / Colorless Glaze

Flow Transfer Printed

total of 4,245

Gilded, Liquid Gold Molded

2 5

artifacts were

Mineral Slipped

Opaque Glaze

Transfer Printed, Underglaze, Monochrome

Painted, Overglaze, Monochrome

Painted, Underglaze, Polychrome

Sponge / Spattered

Edge Decorated

UID Redware

recovered belonging to the Kitchen group,

representing 194

Opaque Glaze

Yellowware Molded

Plain / Colorless Glaze

1 Total

individual items. In terms of the

total number of artifacts recovered, Kitchen items made up nearly 64% of the assemblage, but in terms of MNI, the assemblage only represents 24% of the total. The large number of can and bottle fragments account for the difference. Table 2-27 summarizes the Kitchen group ceramic data in terms of decorative style/technique.

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TABLEWARE A total of 456 artifacts, representing 63 objects, fell within the Kitchen-Tableware subgroup. Tablewares accounted for 11% of the Kitchen artifacts and 32% in terms of MNI. Only one Tableware item was a material other than glass or ceramic: a fragment of a ferrous-alloy table knife. Over 57% of the glass and ceramic artifacts in the Tableware group (259 artifacts) were too fragmented to determine vessel form, even at a hollowware-flatware level. Nonetheless, some forms were identifiable. There were two table bowls (one glass, one whiteware), one graniteware serving bowl, a porcelain soup tureen lid, and a footed whiteware salt bowl. Seven whiteware cups, one stoneware cup, two ceramic tea cups, two glass cups, and three drinking glasses made up the drinking vessel assemblage. There were four whiteware plates, five refined porcelain plates, and 10 whiteware saucers. In addition, there were three pieces of flatware and 15 pieces of hollowware that could not be further identified. Four pieces of tableware were identified as unique by their decorative style but could not be categorized as either flat or hollowware.

UTILITARIAN A total of 3,789 artifacts, representing 131 objects, fell within the KitchenUtilitarian subgroup. Utilitarian items made up 89% of the Kitchen assemblage in terms of artifacts and 68% in terms of MNI. The assemblage contained 12 food-related bottles: five spice/extract bottles embossed “McCORMICK & CO.”; two ketchup bottles; two olive jars; and three wide-mouth general purpose food bottles. Seven other bottles could not be identified beyond the “Container, Bottle” level. There were five preserving jars, 173

Table 2-28 Cylindrical Can Data from Feature 49J-Complex Diameter

MNI

1 3/4-inches 2 1/8-inches 2 7/16-inches 2 11/16-inches 3-inches 3 7/16-inches 4 4/16-inches 4 1/4-inches UID Total

3 2 1 3 3 1 1 1 2

two of which were embossed with

Type

“MASON'S / PATENT / NOV Tomato or pineapple juice

30TH / 1858”, and a Fruits

milk-glass lid-liner Paint-style can

embossed with “...

LAIN ...”. There were two utilitarian bowls, the first a thick-walled, 10-inch diameter yellowware vessel with a white glaze on the interior and a molded diamond pattern on the unglazed exterior, and the second a 10-inch diameter whiteware bowl with a green mineral slip on the exterior and a white glaze on the interior. Nine ceramic items were classified as hollowwares: a yellowware vessel with a colorless glaze; a white, salt-glazed stoneware vessel; four stoneware vessels with alkaline glazes; a stoneware with an Albany slip; and a highly burnished rim fragment from a Catawba-produced vessel. The can assemblage, summarized in Table 2-28, included a least one square or rectangular can and 14 cylindrical cans. Five different types of bottle closures were recovered, including 20 crown caps, a lightening stopper with the rubber seal still attached, two club sauce style peg stoppers, an internally-threaded screw cap, and a thumb screw closure embossed with “PAT / APRIL 23 / 1901”. The number of beverage bottles, particularly alcohol bottles, in the trash deposit was staggering when compared with all other discovered at the site regardless of time

174

period or household composition—a total of 53 bottles (Figure 2-38). Nine bottles could not be identified beyond the “Container, Bottle, Beverage” level. There were two soda pop bottles, one embossed “F.W. SEEGERS / BOTTLER / COLUMBIA SC” (18991908) and one embossed “BEST BEVERAGE CO”, of Columbia, SC (1905-1908). There were three soda pop or water bottles, one un-embossed, one embossed “... SPRINGS / … R...”, and the last embossed “C.C. HABENICHT / COLUMBIA S.C.” (1879-1898). One wine or champagne bottle was found—a dark olive “black” glass bottle. There were 15 beer bottles in the deposit. Four of the glass bottles were unmarked, one was a stoneware ginger beer bottle, and the remaining 11 glass bottles were embossed with the content marks. One bottle was embossed “J.C. SEEGERS / COLUMBIA / S.C. / REGISTERED” (1890-1901), four bottles were embossed “L.L. BULTMAN / COLUMBIA / SC” (1904-1908), one was embossed “CHARLES NAREY / COLUMBIA SC” (1893-1904), and four embossed “W.H. GRIFFIN / BOTTLER / COLUMBIA SC” (1900-1906). There were 23 liquor / whiskey bottles in the deposit, including three SC Dispensary bottles (1892-1907), two embossed with “MEYER, PITTS & CO”, whiskey manufacturers in Baltimore, MD, and one embossed “... ER & CO. / DISTILLERS / LOUISVILLE, KY.” (manufacturer unknown). The 17 remaining bottles were unmarked other than mold marks.

175

ARCHITECTURAL ITEMS A total of 1,486 artifacts (332 MNI) related to architecture were recovered, the majority of which were nails (1,339 artifacts, 320 MNI). Both cut and wire common nails were recovered: 132 cut nails and 157 wire nails. Also recovered were three wire finishing nails, five wire spikes, four cut spikes, eight nails of indeterminate type, and 11 roofing nails. Six of the roofing nails were copper and five were non-galvanized ferrousalloy. Twenty fragments of window glass were recovered, representing three thicknesses: 7/64, 5/64, and 1/16-inch. Two hinges were also recovered: a cast iron butt hinge and a ferrous-alloy â&#x20AC;&#x153;Tâ&#x20AC;? hinge.

INTERIOR Architecture-related artifacts unambiguously associated with the interior of a structure were represented by 54 fragments of plaster and one fragment of mortar. The interior surface of the mortar was painted red, while 52 of the plaster fragments were tinted pink. One plaster fragment was tinted green. The remaining plaster fragment was un-tinted white.

EXTERIOR Architecture-related artifacts unambiguously associated with the exterior of a structure were represented by four fragments of slate tile (either roofing or paving), 43 fragments of copper sheet roofing material (several fragments had copper nails still attached), and 22 fragments of tin sheet roofing material.

176

DOMESTIC ITEMS A total of 193 Domestic Group artifacts were recovered, representing a minimum of 26 objects. Lighting-related objects included two eagle-style burners from two kerosene lamps, one of which was embossed â&#x20AC;&#x153;MADE IN AMERICAâ&#x20AC;? on the knob, 13 lamp chimneys, a milkglass lamp shade, a brass lamp chain pull, and a cast iron gas key from a gaselier. Two earthenware flowerpots were Figure 2-39. Figurine recovered from Feature 49J-Complex (#49J-297).

recovered: one an unglazed terracotta pot

and one with a thick mineral slip. Other objects included an undecorated two-inch diameter industrial porcelain handle-pull, a cast iron coat / hat hook, a cast iron escutcheon, a copper escutcheon, a painted overglaze porcelain candy-style dish, and three-inch tall porcelain figurine of a girl in a dress with hands folded in prayer (Figure 239).

ELECTRICAL ITEMS Eighteen artifacts, representing a minimum of nine objects, falling under the header Electrical were recovered. No other feature contained as many objects related to electricity. Three tub insulators were found, two of which were unglazed dry-pressed and one of industrial porcelain with a colorless glaze. Used for arc-lamps, three carbon rods were recovered, two of 1/2-inch diameter and one of 7/16-inch diameter. An incised 177

copper switch-plate for a push or twist button was found, along with an industrial porcelain wall lamp receptacle produced by the General Electric Co. Most surprisingly, Figure 2-40. Base of a Thomas-Houston incandescent light bulb (#49J-344) recovered from the Feature 49JComplex.

from a preservation perspective, was the base of a Thomas-Houston

incandescent light bulb with much of the filament still intact (Figure 2-40).

OTHER ITEMS Also recovered were a number of artifacts that did not fit neatly into any of the above functional categories. Not included here are artifact fragments classified as 'Unidentified.' The majority of Other Items were hardware-related, including two cast iron carriage bolts with square nuts attached, a cast iron bolt of unknown type, a 2-inch triangular iron bracket, fragments from two jack chains (one iron, one brass), three cast iron rings (1-1/8, 1-3/8, and 2-1/4-inch outer diameter), a fragment of a triangular finishing or jeweler's file, two gimlet-pointed wood screws, three 1-1/2-inch iron wire springs, multiple widths of iron strapping material, a 8-5/8-inch cast iron barrel ring, and many fragments of bailing wire.

178

Non-hardware items included fragments of terracotta sewer pipe, a Southern Pattern horseshoe, 13 bottles that could not be assigned a functional category nor defined more specifically than â&#x20AC;&#x153;Container, Bottleâ&#x20AC;?, a 1/2-inch diameter paper disc, a fragment of gray Figure 2-41. Detail of the 1919 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map, noting the location of the backyard outbuilding.

rubber with a possible fabric impression, and fragments of a mica-based insulating film.

OTHER BACKYARD STRUCTURES The 1919 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map details a small, 10 x 13 foot structure in the backyard area (Figure 2-41). While the structure itself is completely within the 1904 Marion Street lot, the door, which is directly on the property line, faces south, toward the rear of the 1403 Richland Street house. The structure does not appear on the 1910 Sanborn map, suggesting it was built sometime between 1910 and 1919. Four posthole/mold features were encountered in Unit 19. When the Sanborn map is placed over the excavation map, the posts are directly in-line with the southeast corner and east wall of the structure. Unfortunately, artifacts from these features do not provide a more refined date for the structure.

179

From the beginning of the project, I assumed that the structure depicted in the 1919 Sanborn map was the same structure pictured in a 1969 photograph of the backyard area (Figure 2Figure 2-42. 1969 photograph of the backyard area between 1403 Richland Street (right), 1407-1/2 Richland Street (center), and 1904 Marion Street (right, out of picture). The outbuilding depicted is the second generation building.

42). I was wrong. Using Paterek's technique of photographic

superimposition discussed earlier, and with the help of Andrea Palmiotto, I was able to superimpose the 1969 photograph over the current backyard landscape. Using a total station, I recorded the positions of the southeast, southwest, and northwest corners of the structure and plotted these on the excavation map. The structure in the 1969 photograph is a 12 x 12 foot structure in the center of the backyard, straddling Blocks 1 and 2. In Block 1, the northwest corner lines-up directly with posthole/mold 34K/J and posthole 34F along the western edge. Extrapolating the footprint of the structure to form a rectangle, the northeast corner lines-up with a posthole/mold (Feature 47G) lined with brickbats encountered in Block 2 (Figure 2-43). Construction for this second generation backyard structure occurred sometime after 1956, as the 1956 Sanborn map is identical to the 1919 map. How the placement of these structures relates to changes in household composition, particularly aging of family members, is explored in Chapter 5.

180

Unfortunately, the function(s) of the structures are unknown. The second generation structure seen in the photograph suggests it may have been a shed or general-use outbuilding. Although highly speculative, the first generation structure seen on the 1919 and 1956 Sanborn maps may have been a poultry house. An oral history interview with Figure 2-43. Planview illustration of the backyard outbuildings at Mann-Simons. The lower building is the first generation depicted on the 1919 Sanborn map. The upper building is the second generation depicted in the 1969 photograph of the backyard (Figure 2-42).

Bernice Robinson Connors, who grew up and lived at the Mann-Simons

house from 1912 to 1970, remembers her mother, Amanda Simons, raising chickens on the property (Deas-Moore 1998:28).

181

INFRASTRUCTURE A number of infrastructure-related features and artifacts were encountered/recovered. Although no evidence of clean water lines were encountered, features related to natural gas, sewerage, and electricity were encountered across the site, providing a site-specific record of infrastructure development for the neighborhood, as well as providing a foundation for an unusual perspective on integration, community cohesion, and identityâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;subjects explored in Chapter 5.

ELECTRICITY Four electrical grounding rods were discovered during excavation. Grounding rods are used to provide an earth ground (zero potential, i.e. voltage) for electrical systems, thus reducing the risk of shock, fire, etc. in the case of electrical shorts or lightning. Although dedicated grounding rods are still used, most homes today use the incoming cold water pipe as a grounding point. This was not an option for the MannSimons family, who lived in a neighborhood wired for electricity before being piped for water. Each grounding rod was a 3/4-inch diameter iron rod driven into the ground. The flattened top-end suggests a hammer was used to drive the rods. All four rods showed evidence of a copper wire connection via brazing (or other non-mechanical connection technique) several inches below top. The rod in Unit 15 had an additional mechanical (i.e. clamp) connection for a second grounding point. Unfortunately, grounding rods are difficult to date via their archaeological context. A rod driven through a feature and a

182

feature created around a rod look the same archaeologically, and the rods themselves extend above and below all cultural strata. Interestingly, three of the four rods (those in Units 14, 15, and 31) are associated with the house at 1904 Marion Street. The fourth rod (Unit 10) is associated with the grocery store at 1407 Richland Street. Of the three associated with the 1904 Marion Street house, the rod in Unit 31 was discovered within the Feature 31C complex (the large trash pit discussed earlier), east of the foundation pier, on the northeast corner of the first addition to the house. A subsequent addition, which enclosed that portion of the outside structure, would have forced a relocation of the grounding rod. The remaining two rods are both candidates for the relocation, although their side-by-side placement, only 10 feet apart along the south wall of the house, is puzzling. Although speculative, the presence of a galvanized clamp on the rod in Unit 15 suggests it is of more recent origin than the rod in Unit 14, or at least most recently used, further suggesting that the rod in Unit 14 is associated with the first wiring of the house, the rod in Unit 31 is associated with a second wiring event, and the rod in Unit 15 is associated with the most recent change in house wiring. The reason for needing to move the grounding point for the electrical system 10 feet to the east is unknown and puzzling. End-point artifacts related to electricity were recovered from three features. A fragment of grounding wire (#31C-77) – a solid copper wire with a diameter of 0.103inches – was recovered from the uppermost layer of the Feature 31C-Complex trash pit discussed earlier. This wire is likely related to the grounding rod discussed above. A two-wire electrical insulator cleat (#39K-18) was found in Level 4 of the privy deposit, with a maker's mark “E P Co”, or Electrical Porcelain Company of East Liverpool, Ohio,

183

in operation between 1903 and 1911 (Tod 1977:79). All of the remaining electricityrelated artifacts were found in the lunch counter trash deposit. In the uppermost layer was a one-inch, 2-wire split knob electrical insulator (#12P-13) and a pull-chain fragment (#12P-25) of the type used for electrical switches, such as for lamps, fans, etc. The chain consisted of 16 linked balls of diameter 3/32-inch. In the lower layer was a 1/2-inch diameter carbon rod (#12T-256) of the type used in arc lamps, a pressed tin, 2-wire molding connector with a mounting hole for a screw (#12T-57), a fragment of a BrushSwan light bulb receptacle (#12T-378), and a 3/4-inch conduit bushing locknut (#12T51). Two types of wire were also recovered from the lower layer, both related to interior wiring. The first, represented by two fragments, was a rubber coated, braided, single conductor solid core copper wire (#12T-190 and 12T-191), with a diameter of 1/16-inch. Single braided, rubber insulated wire was introduced in 1889 (Tod 1977). The second was a fragment of single conductor, solid core copper wire with potential residue of a rubber coating (#12T-192), of diameter 1/32-inch.

GAS Three units (8, 10, and 14) contained in situ piping for gas. Each pipe was 1-inch coated steel. Piping in Unit 14 supplied gas to the house at 1904 Marion Street. Its location on the south side of the house suggests that the either the furnace or water heater – or both – were located at that end of the house. A pipe connected via a “T” coupling extending to the south might have supplied gas to the lunch counter. Gas for the main house at 1403 Richland Street was supplied through the line uncovered in Unit 8. Interestingly, the pipe was bent to form a 90-degree angle instead of using an elbow

184

Figure 2-44. Cast iron sewerage pipes running into the 1904 Marion Street house. fitting. While the gas lines in Units 8 and 14 run square to the site (and hence, the street system), the piping in Unit 10 runs at a 45-degree angle underneath the footprint of the grocery at 1407 Richland Street. Given that the trench for the gas line (Feature 10D) intrudes upon the grocery's foundation trench (Feature 10J) and structural posthole (Feature 10G), this line was most likely laid down sometime after the grocery's destruction in the early 1970s. Extrapolating beyond the unit boundaries, the lines uncovered in Units 8 and 10 would intersect at a 45-degree angle at roughly N458 E575, suggesting that the gas line in Unit 8 represents an earlier piping event, likely the original line for the house at 1403 Richland Street. Unfortunately, dating the gas lines is

185

problematic, given the lack of diagnostic artifacts within the pipe trenches and the largely unchanging methods of natural gas piping/coupling, etc.

SEWERAGE Figure 2-45. Termination point of the 5-inch cast iron sewerage pipe running into the house at 1904 Marion Street.

Evidence of two generations of sewerage was uncovered at the site (Figure 2-

44). The first generation is represented by a 6-inch diameter terracotta pipeline running northeast-southwest at a 45-degree angle though Units 17 and 38. Unfortunately, it is unknown where this line may have terminated. Everything south of Unit 17 up to the back of the 1403 Richland Street house was destroyed during the 1974 renovations. Since there is no evidence of the pipeline in Block 2, the line running northeast from Unit 38 likely turned north within the space between Blocks 1 and 2 or, less likely, terminated within this space, directly underneath the footprint of the second generation backyard structure discussed earlier and seen in the 1969 photograph of the backyard. The segment of pipe uncovered in Unit 17 had an applied concrete patch, presumably to mend a cracked or broken section. While the pipes themselves offer no help in dating, and no usefully diagnostic artifacts were present in the trenches, a trash pit (Feature 17L) in Unit 17 intruded upon by the trench suggests that the pipe was laid sometime after the 1880s. A second terracotta line was uncovered near the surface in STP 101, running north from (perpendicular to) Richland Street along the west side of the structure at 1407 Richland 186

Street. None of the exposed portions of terracotta pipe, nor their extrapolated extents, suggest where, if at all, they may have tied into any of the structures at the site. The second generation of sewerage at the site was represented by a

Figure 2-46. Font yard row of bricks delineating a plant bed in Unit 5.

2-1/2 inch cast iron pipe running eastwest in Unit 59 and a 5-inch cast iron pipe running northwest-southeast in Unit 36. Resting in a hand-dug trench, a continuation of the trench (F17) exposed by Clement, et al. in Unit N490 E545, the 5-inch pipeline is particularly interesting for three reasons. First, the exposed portion of the trench in Unit 36 represents a termination point. Although segments of the pipe had completely rusted away, still intact was an in situ brick bat that would have supported a 90-degree elbow joint, giving us the exact location of where the line entered the house at 1904 Marion Street. This entry point is located underneath the second addition to the house, which is the likely location of the bathroom. Assuming the construction of an indoor bathroom correlates with the closure of the privy, this line would have been laid sometime after 1918 (the TPQ of the privy deposit), but not later than the early 1920s. Second, the end portion of the pipe is a fitting with a threaded 1-inch opening (Figure 2-45). The method of sealing the joint between the pipe and fitting is consistent with plumbing techniques of the early twentieth century: (1) the 3.5-inch long cast iron fitting was placed within the mouth of the pipe; (2) a length of fibrous rope was pounded into the space between the fitting and interior of the pipe; (3)

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molten lead was poured into the gap between pipe and fitting, thus sealing the joint. The third reason this pipe is particularly interesting is its orientation to the terracotta pipeline. If both lines are extrapolated beyond their excavated extents, they cross at a 90-degree angle at approximately N495 E544.5. Given that they represent two generations of sewerage, their opposite orientations suggest a reorienting of tie-in points to the main sewer line running under the streets, and thus a change in the city-wide sewerage system. The 2-1/2 inch diameter cast iron drain pipe was uncovered in Unit 59. Although the pipe was broken, the hand-dug trench extended into the west wall of Unit 59, underneath the first addition to the house. Although speculative, the addition might have been the location of the kitchen. Unfortunately, the trench contained no diagnostic artifacts that might serve to date the line. If both cast iron lines are extrapolated beyond their excavated extents, the 2-1/2 inch line ties into the 5-inch line at a 45-degree angle (the standard angle for drain lines) at approximately N498.5 E541.

OTHER FEATURES A large number of other features were encountered during excavation. The intent of the following discussion of planting spaces, domestic animals, and fences is to address those features that are important in the following chapters (or are just particularly interesting). This discussion is not a full accounting of all other features encountered at the site.

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Figure 2-47. Backyard planting areas uncovered in Block 2. Green indicates firstgeneration plantings, pink for second-generation, and blue for possible secondgeneration. The blue line at the top is the property boundary. PLANTING SPACES Features related to plantings were evident across the site. In the front yard of 1403 Richland Street, roughly six-feet from the front porch in Unit 5, was discovered a row of bricks and brick bats delineating a plant bed (Feature 5C; Figure 2-46). Likely, this delineated space extended along both sides of the front steps/walkway. Unfortunately, the associated strata, in front and behind the row of bricks, yielded

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virtually no artifacts, so it is difficult to assess a usedate for the feature. Even the shallow depth of the bricks (the top of stratum 5B was 0.51 feet below surface) is unhelpful in deriving a date, as the Figure 2-48. Floor surface of the planting areas in Block 2.

disturbance associated with the south (front) side

of the site is minimal. As such, the row of bricks could date from the early twentieth century onward. Multiple planting spaces were uncovered in the back yard. The difference between Blocks 1 and 2 is striking: Block 1 contained no evidence for any plantings while a third of Block 2 is plant related, although judging by the 1969 photograph of the backyard area, the unexcavated spaces directly south of Block 1 contained some plantings by at least the mid-twentieth century (which were subsequently obscured by post-1970 demolition activities). The only plant-related feature uncovered in the backyard area not in Block 2 was in Unit 20â&#x20AC;&#x201D;a single, shallow, irregular depression (Feature 20C). The feature was truncated by the unit's south and west walls, with exposed dimensions of 2.95-feet east-west, 1.1-feet north-south (maximum extent), a depth of 0.45-feet below the surface of Stratum 20D (Level 3), had nearly vertical walls, was composed of a loose, black sandy silt containing few artifacts, less than 1% charcoal

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flecks, and surrounded by small rootmolds within Level 3. Level 3 in Unit 20 correlates with Level 2 (Stratum B) in Blocks 1 and 2. Block 2 planting spaces (along with Feature 20C) were quite different from those of the front yard, at least in terms of layout (Figure 2-47). Where Feature 5C suggested linearly delineated spaces in the front yard, Block 2 findings suggest that the backyard contained a collection of closely spaced, amorphous plant areas without delineation via bricks or other materials. In addition to nearly all of the larger plant spaces intruding upon each other in Block 2, they also intruded upon multiple features below, including several large trash deposits, making boundary definition challenging and deriving usedates nearly impossible, since gardening activities brought up artifacts from underlying features as well as continuing to incorporate new artifacts throughout their use-life. Nonetheless, two generations of plant spaces or backyard layouts were evident. The first generation of plantings is represented by Features 45C, 48L/M, and 53C. They form a single, contiguous garden space that was arbitrarily divided into four proveniences during excavation so as to generate feature profiles and minimize the chance of mistakenly lumping together discrete features. Post-excavation analysis confirmed they are all part of a single, very large feature that intruded upon multiple underlying features and was itself intruded upon by multiple features. The garden space extended 14.5-feet east-west (full extent) and 12.5-feet north-south (truncated by the south wall of Block 2). Figure 2-48 depicts the floor of the feature, highlighting how individual depth-below-surface measurements were largely meaningless in this space. Broadly though, the feature was shallower in the western portion, in the range of 0.3-feet, gradually deepening to the east (0.74-feet maximum) and south (1.27-feet maximum).

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The soil matrix also changed along the same pattern. The western portion was composed of a brown loamy sand mottled with dark grayish brown sandy silt, gradually transitioning to a dark grayish brown sandy silt mottled with a brown loamy sand. Charcoal fleck inclusions varied from 1 to 5%. Artifact density increased with depth, as did artifact size, with larger artifacts recovered from the base of the feature. Patterns of artifact density and size are attributable to a complex of trash pits (Feature 48N) underlying the planting space. Gardening activities would have disturbed the underlying trash deposits, thereby mixing those artifacts into the lower portions of the garden's soil matrix. The intrusive Feature 49J-Complex, a large, circular trash deposit, had very clearly defined boundaries and is it unlikely that this trash deposit contributed any artifacts to those recovered from the garden space. The second generation of plantings formed not a contiguous area, as did the first generation, but rather multiple spaces in close proximity. Feature 54F, the largest of the second generation plant spaces uncovered, located next to the building at 1407-1/2 Richland Street, measured 5.65-feet east-west (truncated by the east wall of Block 2), 5.8-feet north-south (truncated by the south wall of Block 2), and a maximum depth of 1.3-feet. Composition was a very dark grayish brown sandy silt mottled with 30% yellowish red sandy clay and contained multiple small, thin lenses of brown loamy sand. Unlike generation one plantings, Feature 54F did not intrude upon any features below, resulting in an artifact assemblage representative of the use-life of the planting space. One planting, Feature 54J, was a shallow depression located within the boundaries of 54F and measured 1.55-feet north-south, 1.05-feet east-west, and 0.35-feet deep. Feature definition came from differences in soil compactness (54J was much more

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loose) and charcoal inclusions (54J contained 20% charcoal flecks), otherwise soil composition was the same as Feature 54F. Feature 53G was a single planting intruding upon Feature 53C, a first generation planting space. Circular, shallow and bowl-shaped, Feature 53G measured 1.3-feet in diameter and extended 0.2-feet below surface. Composition was a very dark grayish brown sandy silt mottled with 5% yellowish red sandy clay and less than 5% charcoal flecks. Feature 48C intruded upon the south side of Feature 48L/M, a first generation planting, as well as a large trash deposit (Feature 48N-Complex) underneath both features. Measuring 3.1-feet north-south, 3.1-feet east-west, and 1.3-feet deep, soil was composed of a very dark grayish brown sandy silt mottled with 10% black sandy loam and included 5% charcoal flecks. Based on their spatial arrangement, several plantings are likely contemporaneous with those of the second generation, although this is not definite. On the south side of the privy feature, near the southeast corner, was a shallow, bowl-like depression (Feature 43D) composed of loose, black silty sand containing 1% charcoal flecks. Measuring 1.3feet east-west, 1.95-feet north-south, and 0.35-feet deep, Feature 43D is the only plantrelated feature found in close proximity to the privy. Features 48K and 52D were single plantings located west and south of Feature 48C. Feature 48K was a shallow, oval-ish depression measuring 0.6-feet east-west, 0.8feet north-south, and 0.27-feet below surface, composed of a brown sandy silt mottled with 50% very dark grayish brown sandy silt, with 5% charcoal fleck inclusions. Feature 52D represents either a single planting space or several plantings grouped closely

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together. Measuring 2.1-feet north-south and 2.25-feet east-west, Feature 52D was intruded upon to the north by Feature 52J, a posthole/mold with brickbat supports at its base. Soil composition was the same as Feature 48K. The northern-most planting space was Feature 41D, an irregularly shaped area measuring 5.85-feet east-west and 4.7-feet north-south. Depth was 1.69-feet below surface to the east and 0.62-feet below surface to the west. Soil composition was a dark gray clayey loam mottled with 5% dark brown silty sand and 1% yellowish red sandy clay, with 1% charcoal flecks. Underneath Feature 41D was a small trash deposit. Unfortunately, this trash deposit was not provenienced separately during excavation, resulting in an artifact assemblage representing both deposition and planting activities.

FENCES As previously discussed, the primary difficulty of interpreting the results of the 1998 excavations was attributing patterns to people. The two 10 x 10 foot excavation units were in the 1906 Marion Street lot (non-Mann-Simons occupied) and the two 5 x 5 foot units were in the 1904 Marion Street lot. Although reasonably tight TPQ dates were produced for various features, and so could be correlated with specific occupants of the lots, there was no way to determine which household actually contributed to which deposit, and thus, no way to correlate artifact patterns with particular households. Findings in Units 21, 22, and 55 changed this by providing direct, date-able evidence of a fence line along the northern 1904 Marion Street property line (Figure 2-49). Evidence for the segregation of spaces allows for correlating patterns with people.

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Figure 2-49. Features in Block 2 associated with fences along the northern property line (outlined in blue) between the 1904 and 1906 Marion Street lots. Seven posts were encountered in the three unitsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;five on the Mann-Simons (south) side and two on 1906 Marion Street (north) side. Lauran Riser (2009) excavated these units as part of her MA thesis. She had difficulty understanding stratigraphy, and so often lumped together discrete proveniences. Nonetheless, feature definition at the surface of Stratum B was very clear and provides all the evidence we need for understanding these segregated spaces. All of the fence-related features were located on the Mann-Simons (south) side of the property line. Features 22D and 22E were both in situ wooden posts. Feature 22D extended 1.41-feet below surface. Feature 22E, which extended 1.12-feet below surface) looks to be a replacement post or a post added for additional support. Feature 22C is the lumped-together postmold/hole for both posts and contained only non-diagnostic artifacts. Feature 55H, 5.8-feet east of 22D (center-to-center), is a third in situ wooden fence post, extending 1.8-feet below surface, within postmold/hole Feature 55G. A TPQ date of 1892 for Feature 55G came from a crown cap bottle closure. Located 2.2-feet east of post 55H, Feature 55D is the fourth in situ wooden fence post, extending 0.89-feet

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below surface, sitting within postmold/hole 55C. A TPQ date of circa 1890 for Feature 55C came from a cobalt blue medicine/pharmaceutical bottle fragment. On the north side of the property line were two posts which might be associated with the fence, but, given their distance from the fence line established by the posts south of the property line, other, non-fence related functions related to activities within the 1906 Marion Street lot are more probable. Feature 55J is a postmold/hole that was visible on the surface of Stratum B, but was not excavated separately from Feature 55I, so no further information is available (note that provenience designation 'I' is a deviation from established methodology for the site). Feature 55F was a wooden post extending 0.4-feet below surface and located within posthole 55E. A TPQ date of 1874 for Feature 55E came from a brass shoe grommet. Further evidence for a fence comes indirectly from non-post related features on both sides of the property line. Features 21C, 21D, and 21F were all small trash deposits placed close to, but never extending over, the property line, suggesting a barrier (like a fence), or minimally, an awareness of distinct spaces that guided the use of these spaces. A small surface stain was also visible along the fence line in the eastern portion of Unit 21. TPQ dates for the trash deposits correlates well with the fence postmold/hole dates. A fragment of a double-side seam sanitary tin can gives Feature 21C a date of 1904. Features 21D and 21F have dates of 1909, based on fragments of Bakelite plastic.

DOCUMENTARY METHODOLOGY Archaeology is a method, a way of collecting data. Archaeology can be anthropology, but it can also be geography, or material culture studies, or history. My

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interest is in social process, and so this dissertation, this use of archaeology, is anthropology. I also used a wide range of documents to get at social process, to 'do' anthropology. This understanding guided my choice in the types of documents I examined and the kinds of information I extracted. In the following sections, I explain my methods for gathering documents. I begin with an overview of previous documentary research about Mann-Simons, since it was often the case that my choice of what to examine came from a need to fill-in missing pieces or question what was presented. But mostly, I wanted to understand how different groups of people were talking about the kinds of artifacts I had excavated at the site. This led me to Winterthur Museum, where I collected most of my documentary data, and where I was able to fill-in some of the gaps in the archaeology literature in the aid of developing fine-grained chronologies and, consequentially, more closely link different family generations to specific features and artifacts.

PREVIOUS DOCUMENTARY RESEARCH Since the Mann-Simons property was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1974, a number of individuals have produced an impressive set of interpretations and an equally impressive range of approaches to understanding the family and house. Julia T. Burr produced the first scholarly account in 1977 with her MA thesis, An Inquiry into the Mann-Simons House. Taking a structuralist approach that understands domestic architecture as a mirror of the thoughts, beliefs and lifestyles of its builders/designers/occupants, Burr was the first to start piecing together the documents of Mann-Simons. Her work became the basis of all future work, although her initial

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conclusions were too often accepted uncritically in subsequent investigations. Concurrent with Burr's look at family and house came a report by Associated Architects (1977) based on their physical inspection and dissection of the main house. Associated Architects were charged with understanding the physical evolution of the house and developing a chronology of building sequences. In 2001, John M. Sherrer and Katherine C. Grier created a partial family tree and compiled much of the information available for a museum display in the basement of the house. Also in 2001, Mary C. Voght, taking a public history approach, created a docent manual and interpretive guides for HCF aimed at furthering public education. Her manual is the basis of the interpretation given to visitors of the house today, although Sherrer has updated it several times since its conception. We visit this script and its relation to the manufacturing of history and meaning in Chapter 6. Documentary research done for my MA thesis (Crockett 2005) also forms a core part of the data used in this study, particularly information from city directories (Appendix E), property titles, census records, and period discussions of consumerism. Caitlin Graham, who worked as a volunteer research assistant during the summer of 2009, deserves special note. Caitlin's specialty is genealogical research. She became particularly interested in Ben DeLane's life before and after residing at the site and substantially contributed to our understanding of the site's earliest history. Her research is found in Chapters 3 and 5.

COLLECTORS AND INTERNET SOURCES Interpretation of social life through the ordinary objects of the late nineteenth and twentieth century presents a unique challenge for two reasons. First, compared to earlier

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time periods investigated by historical archaeologists, the range of materials available, used, and discarded during the recent past is extremely vast, and most objects were changing in style, form, and/or material composition very quickly. The second reason, which follows from the first, is the lack of information available about these objects in the archaeological literature. Asbestos siding is a good example. Patented in 1872, this is the TPQ date found in nearly every archaeological report. And it is technically correct. But the asbestos siding of the 1870s is not the same as the siding of the 1950s. Multiple changes occurred over its production career, including the introduction of different colors, the method of applying color, and the patterns of surface decoration (wood grain, brick, crescent shapes, etc.). Like understanding the evolution of edge-decorated flatwares, of which many articles have been written, understanding the evolution of asbestos â&#x20AC;&#x201C; and all other modern materials â&#x20AC;&#x201C; allows for more nuanced interpretations. Because of this impoverished literature, archaeologists of the recent past rely on collectors and internet sources for a vast amount of artifact dating, identification, and understanding object variation. Often they are the only sources on these materials. Much of the identification of artifacts from the Mann-Simons site came from collectors, and a formal or informal group of collectors seems to exist for almost every type of material object. Although the reliability of some information is suspect, many collectors have produced outstanding reference materials. The Soda Memorabilia Collectors group is a good example. Each issue of their bi-monthly magazine, The Soda Fizz, has articles on the evolution of different soda bottlesâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;maker's marks, shapes, colors, locations of production, manufacturer histories, etc. The self-described Bottle Research Group always responded to my queries to the histarch listserv with valuable

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information and seemed genuinely interested in helping, particularly Bill Lockhart and Carol Serr. Phillip Kenneth Huggins' book, The South Carolina Dispensary: A Bottle Collector's Atlas and History of the System (1997), is a scholarly account of the dispensary combined with a pictorial guide to every variation in bottle type. In Tempo and the Glass Folks of South Jersey, first published in 1969, Roy Horner (1985), who writes on the first page, “Not Copyrighted: If you can use any part—be my guest,” is a collection of photographs, business papers, stories, maps, histories, and more from the folks who worked at the glass houses in southern New Jersey during the early twentieth century. Jack H. Tod (1977) published, A History of The Electrical Porcelain Industry in The United States, an exceptional piece of scholarship and the only source of information on end-user insulators—complete with patent numbers, trade catalog illustrations, drawings, all known makers' marks, a history of every known manufacturer (he even includes street addresses for all locations), and much more. If our goal as archaeologists is to better understand the social past via the material world, we would do well to share more resources and develop cooperative partnerships with some of these collectors and groups. Manufacturers and trade associations often publish histories of their products on the internet. McCormick & Co. has a history of their company tied to individual products and was invaluable for dating the McCormick spice bottles recovered from the site. The Film and Bag Federation presents “Great Moments in Plastic Bag History” on their webpage, while the National Fastener Distribution Association gives a time line of fastener innovation. Other entities also use the internet as their means of presenting information, like the Bureau of Land Management's comprehensive guide to historic

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bottle identification. Perhaps the greatest internet-based resource for archaeologists of the recent past is Google's on-line database of US Patentsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the entire database of patents from 1796 to the present is made available through keyword searches.

WINTERTHUR MUSEUM During fall 2007, I spent a semester at Winterthur Museum and Estate in Delaware, under a National Endowment for the Humanities McNeil Dissertation Fellowship for Resident Study. Winterthur, along with its neighbor the Hagley Museum, is the largest archive of material culture-related primary and secondary literature in North America and, in partnership with the University of Delaware, one of the leading centers of materials conservation. I arrived in Delaware and was quickly overwhelmed by the size of the collections. After a week of feeling like a kid in a candy store, aimlessly wandering the stacks late into the night, I got my bearings, defined my collection strategy, and set about gathering data. I had four objectives, each associated with different bodies of literature and consequentially, each requiring different collection strategies. Kasey Grier, professor and curator, and Emily Guthrey, research librarian, were instrumental to my success at Winterthur. My first objective was to leave with a body of literature on makers' marks. An identifiable maker's mark is invaluable. A mark can tell you who made an object, where it was made, and when it was made. A single mark can date an archaeological deposit and help establish commodity chains. Marks of ceramics and glass manufacturers are readily available, and used often in archaeological reports, but makers' marks for other classes of artifacts are not so easy to come by, a consequence of archaeologists'

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preoccupation with glass and ceramics. My collection strategy was simple and nonsystematicâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;I photocopied, scanned, or drew every mark I came across that I was not familiar with or I knew matched an artifact from the site. These marks were largely discovered while collecting data related to the third and fourth objectives, discussed below. Second, I wanted to leave Delaware with a body of literature concerning basic conservation techniques and issues related to commonly-recovered nineteenth and twentieth century artifacts. I targeted information concerning plastics and other synthetic materials, since little-to-no information on the curation of such is available in the mainstream archaeology literature; as well as metals. I discovered a rich body of information related to metals conservation, including articles on long-term outcomes of different stabilization/preservation techniques and controlled studies of Ampere/voltage/electrolyte combinations for electrolytic reduction. Much of this literature had been organized by University of Delaware students into different topics and placed in the reference room at Winterthur. My third objective was to leave with a body of literature useful in the identification and dating of specific artifacts from the site and more generally late nineteenth and early twentieth century objects I might encounter on other sites. I was interested in introduction dates for different objects and technologies and defining the range of formal and stylistic variation surrounding object types over time, as well as gaining insight into period naming conventions and understanding of how manufacturers classified and grouped their own merchandise. I focused on classes of artifacts not discussed often in archaeology, with special attention given to building materials (e.g.

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asbestos and asphalt tiles/siding, wall and floor coverings), electrical components (wires, receptacles, lighting, batteries), and fasteners (screws, bandings, rivets). The majority of this information came from Winterthur's trade catalog collection and proved invaluable for interpreting the archaeology of Mann-Simons. Originating in England during the 1750s, trade catalogs refer to “broadsides, broadsheets, pamphlets, manuscripts, and books issued by businesses and individuals to entice the pubic to buy products” (McKinstry 1984:x). In an introduction to the trade catalog collection at Winterthur, Richard McKinstry (1984) explains that trade catalogs come in five types. Most people are familiar with mail-order catalogs, the first type, like Sears, Roebuck, and Co. and Montgomery Ward. Second are catalogs that offered premiums to its readers. In other words, individuals would sell a company's products, and in exchange, they would get a discount on their own purchases. Avon and Tupperware are good contemporary examples of this type. Third are business brochures, handed out to prospective patrons at different functions where a company's goods were being displayed or sent by mail when requested. The fourth type is publications issued “for the trade only”—publications circulated to retailers by manufacturers and wholesalers not intended for public consumption. Lastly are broadsides, circulated by mail, hand-to-hand, posted in prominent locations, etc. I concentrated on catalogs issued for the trade—the fourth type. Some of these catalogs were illuminating – and amusing – in terms of sales practices, like the insert in the 1908 Baltimore Bargain House catalog that warned retailers:

You should be careful to keep this Price List from the eyes of your customers. We print the prices on this separate sheet so that you can show the colored

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illustrations freely to your tradeâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;in fact, using the Catalogue as you would were it gotten out especially for your individual use.

But for the most part, their value came from the descriptions and illustrations of products available to retailers. Catalogs from companies like Manhattan Electrical Supply Company, Western Electric Company, Newark Electrical Supply Company, and Latham, E.B., & Company defined the full range of electrical-related goods available for domestic, commercial, and industrial use. By comparing their listings over time, I was able to determine when different types of commonly found goods like electrical plugs and light bulb styles were phased out of production (and hence available for consumption). For battery carbon rods â&#x20AC;&#x201C; a commonly found artifact on turn-of-thetwentieth century and later sites â&#x20AC;&#x201C; I was even able to correlate rod dimensions with battery types and further correlate this with probable device application like telephone or door bell. Trade catalogs were overhead photographed using a digital camera mounted on a tripod. Finally, I wanted to come away with a representative sample of how different groups of people were talking about the types of artifacts I had recovered from the site, who the manufacturers of these objects were, the distribution networks and marketing areas involved, and something about wholesaler/retailer/consumer relationships. In addition to trade catalogs, I looked at a range of documents designed for public consumption, such as the magazines Popular Homecraft and Good Housekeeping, and books that fall loosely under the headers of advice or etiquette. These books included the usual accounts of how to set tables and decorate rooms, but also included instructions and

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information on the use and application of new technologies and materials like electricity and plastics.

ETHNOGRAPHIC METHODOLOGY Previous ethnographic work related to the site consists solely of a set of interviews conducted in 1998 by Vennie Deas-Moore, who produced a monograph containing interviews with two family members, including Bernice Connors, who lived at the Mann-Simons house from 1914 to 1970, and two members of the First Calvary Baptist Church. Connors passed away shortly after the interview. Although only part of the interview was transcribed, and the original tapes have since been lost (Deas-Moore, pers. com., 2005), her interview remains the only first-hand account from someone who actually lived on the Mann-Simons property. Interested in the relationship between individual experience and social process, my approach to talking with people drew on the work of Catherine Riessman (2002), who raises a series of questions regarding the performance of local identity through personal narratives that serve as a useful way for understanding how narrators position themselves relative to their intended audience and themselves. Riessman (2002:701) asks, “In what kind of a story does a narrator place herself? How does she locate herself in relation to the audience, and vice versa? How does she locate characters in relation to one another and in relation to herself? How does she relate to herself, that is, make identity claims about who or what she is?” As a method, narrative analysis favors the lived experiences of the story-teller over an objective accounting of ‘what really happened.’ Personal

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narratives are, as Riessman notes, â&#x20AC;&#x153;of interest precisely because narrators interpret the past in stories rather than reproduce the past as it wasâ&#x20AC;? (2002:705). I conducted interviews with Robin Waites, Executive Director of HCF, and John Sherrer, Director of Cultural Resources, to better understand how history and meaning is produced through the Mann-Simons site as an officially-managed property and how this property fits within the Foundation's mission and image. I also interviewed Raychelle Heath, a poet who served an artist's residency at HCF during 2006. Her poetry of MannSimons is found at the start of each chapter. Interviews were audio recorded and a full transcription given to interviewees. A copy of the consent form is found in Appendix F. Participants had the opportunity to edit the content of the interview prior to use and continue to have the right to change their agreement with me regarding the use of interview material. I largely used open-ended questions and a semi-structured interview style, what Berg (2007) would call an 'unstandardized interview.' What emerged are narratives of identity performance grounded in memory, experience, and the jointly constructed context of the interviews. Although formal interviews played a small part in terms of the total amount of data collected for this study, informal interactions with diverse peoples played a very large part in understanding how the site 'fits' within present-day contexts and, as I discussed in Chapter 1, came to define the interpretive framework for the entire project. Personal reflection is the only way to understand attitudes, experiences, and social interactions at such a micro-scale (Bloom 1998). But, to place a discussion of these informal interactions under the header Ethnographic Methodology is somewhat misleading. Method implies some degree of strategy, organization and forethought, and

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my interactions with site visitors and local residents contained none of these elements. I had no agenda, and this, I believe, is why so many individuals shared their stories with me. But there is a downside: I did not ask formal permission to use the words, the stories, the experiences of the people who came to shape the project. They did not share their stories with an understanding that I would put them in print to be consumed by anyone with access to the university library. For this reason, the words and stories found in Chapter 6 are not attributed to identifiable individuals; meanings and significance are filtered through my own understandings and position at the site. Like all interpretation, what is presented is only part of the story, but a part that I believe still captures the social dynamics surrounding Mann-Simons.

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CHAPTER 3 A HISTORY OF MANN-SIMONS I. She brewed herself raspberry tea with a touch of cinnamon. Let it simmer and sit then sipped as she placed her things into a dusty bag. Her skin began to tingle with new sensations; her hands packing her few things away. II. Columbia, a place without a shore, but long dark arms awaiting her there. One last time she smelled the salt in the air, checked for her pouch of herbs round her neck. Garlic, yarrow, sea salt, bearberry sage comfrey chamomile lavender and nettles to bring motherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s milk from a dry breast the land sagged under the weight of her going and she met the long road slowly peeling the days until her old skin would shed away III. she rubbed her dry spots with rose oil breathed deeply and slept near pregnant oaks sharing the birthing that was in the air Celi, Celia Mann had coaxed the crowns of countless babes in her full hands, brewed yellow dock and alfalfa tea to bring new mothers through to the first cry to the first light of day and Celi walked humming Amazing Grace

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how sweet the sound and free, free like those papers she carried right next to her chest and she labored until the light led her to sleep she labored ‘til the moon was full and she lay in a bath in her new home IV. the labor done the water warm garlic sea salt bearberry sage comfrey lavender chamomile Ben scrubbed her back and Celi eased her arms around her new skin —R. Heath, Celi's Birthing (2006)

This chapter is a history of many possible histories, a telling of my understanding of one family in Columbia over a 142-year period and the 40-years of meaning-making that has taken place at the site since the family was forced off the property in 1970. In this version of history, the family, properties, and households (joint creations of family and property) are presented as a skeleton time-line. I do this for two reasons. The first has to do with the relationship between narrative, history, and the past. History and the past are often used interchangeably, resulting in a loss of focus on narrative—the bridge between the two. When this happens, too easily creations become recreations and constructions become reconstructions. The second, related, reason for a time-line format is to highlight the similarities between documentary and archaeological data in the production of history and the dissimilarities in their traditional presentations. The past, philosopher of history Alun Munslow (1997) argues, is something that actually did happen – be it a political movement, an economic process, or an event as small as taking out the trash – but these happenings do not exist for us today apart from a 209

few surviving bits of evidence—artifacts, documents, memories, oral histories, and the like. In contrast to the past, history is “a language-based manufacturing process in which the written historical interpretation is assembled or produced by historians” (Munslow 1997:5). The past and history are clearly not the same thing. Where the past is something that did happen, history is an epistemology, a knowledge of the past that can only exist for the reader (hearer, consumer) when someone writes (tells, produces) it in its obligatory form: the narrative. “A historical narrative,” Munslow (1997:10-11) goes on to explain, “is a discourse that places disparate events in an understandable order.... Consequently, there are many different stories to be told about the same events, the same past.” In other words, we read history to understand the past, but the past itself is structured by the narrative history takes, as well as our constructed categories of analysis – race, class, gender, power, etc. – and contemporary ideologies. History then is as much a product of how we write as it is what we write. As is the present. This relationship between narrative, history, and the past is not so different than Mening's ten hypothetical observers introduced in Chapter 1, when he asked his viewers what the elements of their shared, observable landscape mean. This is also not so different than what Clifford Geertz (1973:326) wrote of ethnographic interpretations as being “fictions, in the sense that they are ‘something made,’ ‘something fashioned’ – the original meaning of fictio – not that they are false, unfactual, or merely ‘as if’ thought experiments.” Munslow (historian), Mening (geographer), and Geertz (anthropologist), are all speaking to the same fundamental interpretive process: observations are made, these observations are made intelligible by 'fitting' them into or 'filtering' them through a framework, and an understanding/knowledge is produced. As Arthur Danto (1985:202),

210

another philosopher of history, put it, â&#x20AC;&#x153;to tell what happened... and to explain why... is to do one and the same thing.â&#x20AC;? Michel Foucault (1979) takes these ideas a step further. Narrative, for Foucault, is the primary form of knowing and telling, and thus, history is never innocent because, as a form of knowledge subject to the complex and subtle demands of ideology, it is dependent upon the uses and social and political purposes to which it is put. History is a means for the distribution and use of power because historical narratives produce the illusion of truth and authenticity by necessarily imposing a structure on the pastâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a positioned structure dependent upon who is doing the telling. These aspects of narrative, power, and history will be examined in more detail when I discuss how histories have been constructed at the Mann-Simons site over the past 40 years in Chapter 6. The important point for now is that the process of historical explanation is one of social construction through discursive structures, rather than the innocent presentation of empirical discoveries. Recall Richard Schein's idea of discourse materialized, the interpretive approach presented in Chapter 1. As an interface theory, Schein provides a method for operationalizing Munslow and Foucault's ideas. History (knowledge) is the materialization of discourses structuring the ways in which we make sense of the past, in the same way culturally-determined discourses of what is 'proper' might structure how we act in different social settings, what we wear to a job interview, and if we place a fork on the left or right side of a plate. By presenting my history of Mann-Simons as a time-line rather than a more traditionally-structured story, I hope to make the discursive

211

construction of history more obvious though an unexpected presentation—this history places the fork on the right-hand side of the plate rather than the left. The second reason for presenting a history of Mann-Simons as a time-line is because history and archaeology both rely upon bits of fragmented evidence of the past to construct historical narratives, but the presentation of those bits of evidence differ greatly between the two disciplines. Archaeological stories are based on artifacts and other material/spatial evidences of past happenings, but the connections between these bits of information are not self-evident. It takes an archaeologist to construct a narrative understanding; to fit them together in a coherent fashion that is understandable by a consumer. Historical stories are based on documents and other textual/visual evidences of past happenings. And like archaeology, the connections between these bits of information are not self-evident. It takes a historian to construct a coherent narrative that a consumer will understand. The production of historical knowledge thus is not so different than that of archaeological knowledge. What is different, aside from the types of evidence from which stories are constructed (artifacts versus documents), is the emphasis placed on presenting the actual bits of information to the reader and the separation between “the evidence” and “the story” in such presentation. Historians tend to write stories, with footnotes or endnotes for citations and a bibliography at the end. Archaeologists tend to write reports, with intext citations and a clearly delineated section on methods and data (exactly like this dissertation). Both are discursive practices governing the 'correct' way to generate particular kinds of knowledge. If a historian were to structure his or her narrative in the same way as an archaeologist, then there would be an introduction, a section or chapter

212

1799 - 1867 Ben DeLane

Celia Mann

1831 - 1907 Agnes Jackson

T homas Jackson

Juliana McMillen

Bill Simons

1860

1853

1847

1858

1859

1871 - 1921

1860

Richard Williams

Hattie

Benjamin Jackson

Margaret

John Lucius Simons

Martha

T homas Simons

Dinah Collins

1860

Nancy Smith

D. 1960

1865 - 1933

1874 1875 - 1945

??? Richardson

1879 Theo. Robert Washington

Hattie

1881

1892

1876 Eddie Logan

Lareua Jackson

Amanda L. Green

Lizzie Charles Hall Simons

Thomas Smith

1891 1908 - 1998

Cash Logan

Agnes Richard

1856

Richard Ellen Williams (?)

1887 - 1915

1889 - 1923

John Lucius Jr.

T homas Simons

1890

1891

Willie Sarah Simons

1897 Eddie Simons

Martha Roberta 'Birdie'

John Atkinson

William Bernice Green Robinson Connors [adopted] Robert Griffin

Charles Allen

Celia

1895

1896

Maggie

Charlie 1899 Robbie

Jessie Cleveland Daniel Smith 1879

1884

1887

1895

Carrie B.

Jesse C. Jackson

Hattie M.

T. B. Jackson

George Robinson

Celia Griffin

Agnes Ruth

Lucius

Robbie

1963 Cleveland John Creswell

Carol Cunningham

Andrena Armstrong

1990

1996

Celia

Cleveland John Creswell, Jr.

Figure 3-1. Mann-Simons family tree. on the sampling strategy employed in gathering documents, a list of the actual documents used in the study, and the remaining text devoted to analysis of the evidence gathered. If there is to be an archaeological “methods and data” chapter in this dissertation, like there is, than there should be a historical “documentary data” chapter. In this way, one kind of evidence is not presented quite so radically different than another. Both are highly fragmented. By presenting documentary history as a time-line, I want to make the reader more aware of this fragmented nature and make more explicit the constructive process of history, regardless of from where the data might originate. With these thoughts in mind, I present a history of the Mann-Simons family, their properties, and their households. Although findings from the archaeology are used in this history, their role is largely limited to establishing physical change over time, for example, when a structure was built or demolished. The reader may find useful Appendix E, a compilation of Columbia City Directory information containing 213

information related to business and residence addresses, “race,” spouse and occupation for each listed head-of-household and, in some cases, other individuals on the 1400 Richland Street and 1900 Marion Street block. Given the frequency of recycled names (“We just keep names,” explains Robbie Atkinson [1998:7], great-great-granddaughter of Celia Mann), the family-tree depicted in Figure 3-1 may also serve as a useful reference.

HOUSEHOLD OUSEHOLD 1 BEN DELANE AND CELIA MANN 1799 –

Celia Mann is born into slavery in Charleston. How she obtained her freedom is unknown. Vennie Deas-Moore's (2004) research suggests the possibility that Celia was owned by John Spencer Mann, Jr. of Charleston, and by 1820, Columbia. Caitlin Graham's (2009) research suggests the possibility that Celia was owned by the William Main family of Charleston and Columbia. Both are inconclusive.

1800 –

Ben DeLane is born into slavery in Charleston. Caitlin Graham (2009) suggests that Ben may have been owned by the DeLeon family (a wealthy Jewish family involved in the slave trade) in Charleston and brought by the family to Columbia. Edwin J. Scott (1884:67) writes of Ben: “While a slave DeLane hired his time and purchased two boats, commanded one himself and employed hands to work the other, which he ran on the river —the two always going together. His character for industry and integrity was beyond reproach and he could get credit for all he asked.” How he obtained his freedom is unknown.

214

The date Ben DeLane may have

1828 –

purchased the property that would become the Mann-Simons site from James S. Guignard (receipt discovered by DeasMoore 2004). Research by John Milner and Associates (2010) suggests that the current house at 1403 Richland Street was not built during the era of Ben DeLane and Celia Mann—the Figure 3-2. Agnes Jackson (18311907) (courtesy HCF). 1831 –

current house is a replacement built in the 1870s or early 1880s.

Agnes Jackson born, youngest daughter of Celia Mann (Figure 3-2). Agnes had three sisters, known only though Celia's will and family oral history (Dinah Collins, Juliana Miller, and Nancy Smith). Their birth dates are not known. Family history tells of their moving to Boston and crossing the color line. Celia would have been 32 when Agnes was born.

1837 –

Celia Mann is baptized at the First Baptist Church (Columbia First Baptist Church 1847). The entry lists Celia as “wife of and belonging to Ben DeLane.” This is the earliest date we know Celia is in Columbia.

1840 –

The Federal Census lists a “Ben Dleon” as a free African American and head-of-household in Columbia. “Dleon” is a close match for “DeLeon,” the family Graham (2009) suggests may have owned Ben. According to the census, Ben owned three slaves. No other information has been found

215

that references these slaves. Names, ages, etc. of the slaves were not listed in the census. 1843 –

1 February, the Mann-Simons property is transferred into Ben DeLane's name. A request discovered by Deas-Moore (2004) reads:

“I Ben DeLane do hereby, request of James S. Guignard to retain in his hands One half of an area of Land in Columbia by two hundred of eight feet on Lumber and Marion Street and one hundred and four feet land on Richland Street including all the buildings now occupied by myself and family for the use of my wife Celia, commonly called Celia {} during her life and after her death for the use and benefit of Mary my daughter and the daughter of Venus Brown a free woman of color _ and Agnes the daughter of said Celia.”

No other information is available concerning Ben and Venus Brown’s daughter Mary. Apparently, Ben was not Agnes' biological father. Nor is any information known about Ben's property on Lumbar Street. 1847 –

Benjamin Jackson born, eldest child of Agnes Jackson. Agnes was 16 years old.

1850 –

Property Map of Columbia produced (Jackson 1850; Figure 3-3). The lots are listed as belonging to “B. D. Lane”—this is the last time we are aware that the lots are listed in DeLane's name.

216

1850 – Federal Census indicates Celia Mann owned a slave—a 70 year old women whose name is not known. A purchase/transfer date is not known. Figure 3-3. Property map of Columbia produced in 1850 (courtesy HCF).

1853 – Hattie Jackson born, daughter of Agnes Jackson (Figure 3-4). Hattie would first marry Mr. Richardson (first name unknown) and later marry Richard Williams (b. 1860), with whom she would have four children. Hattie is known to have bought and sold multiple residential properties in Columbia (known from title searches). Little else is known of her. 1853-1858 – Thomas Jackson, first

Figure 3-4. Hattie Jackson, later Richardson (b. 1853). Date of photograph unknown (courtesy HCF).

husband of Agnes Jackson, dies (based on surnames of children and listing in City Directories as

“widow”). During this period, Agnes marries William “Bill” Simons. J. F. Williams describes Bill as, “an old free negro... [and] a member of the famous Joe Randall band, that turned out on all occasions where a band was needed.”

217

1858 – Margaret Simons born, third child of Agnes Jackson and first child with husband Bill Simons. 1859 – John Lucius Simons born, forth child of Agnes Jackson. John would later marry Martha (maiden name unknown; b. 1871, d. 1921) and have six children between 1887 and 1897 (Figure 3-5). 1860 – Agnes Jackson, her husband Bill Figure 3-5. John L. Simons, Jr. (1887-1915) and William Simons (b. 1890), sons of John and Martha Simons (courtesy HCF).

Simons, and three of her first four children are listed as living at the

residence of Joe Randall (Federal Census). 1860 – Thomas and Ellen Simons born, fifth and sixth children of Agnes Jackson (Figure 3-6). They were either twins or there is a mistake in the census. 1863 – “Mann Celia, Cola. Lot in Towns and Villages = 1400. Amt of Tax. =$12.32” (Comp Genl. Tax Record

Figure 3-6. Thomas Simons (b. 1860) (courtesy HCF). 218

Bks., 1863 Richland Dist. Box 75 Folder pgs 111B/112A). 1863 –

Receipt for payment made out to Celia Mann for boarding two slaves on her property.

1865 –

Agnes Jackson moves back to the 1403 Richland Street house with her mother. It is unknown if Bill Simons moved there as well.

1865 –

Rev. C. H. Carey, a missionary with the Home Mission Society, along with Rev. Wilson Carr, was sent to Columbia by 1865 to “gather scattered Baptists” (Deas-Moore 2004:21). The Reverend used the basement of “Sister Celia Mann's home” for church services after the African American congregation abandoned the First Baptist Church of Columbia, located across the street from her house (site of the Confederate Secession Convention of 1860). These basement meetings led to the formation of the Calvary Baptist Church of Columbia, and later, Zion Baptist Church, First Calvary Baptist Church, and the Second Calvary Baptist Church. The Second Calvary Church, at 1516 Bull Street, just outside the city boundaries of the time, is likely the place where Celia and her fellow church members performed baptisms, as suggested by family history: “They would hold their baptismal rites on Bull Street, across the street from the South Carolina Insane Asylum” (Atkinson 1998:3-4).

1865 –

Charles Hall Simons born, seventh child of Agnes Jackson (Figure 3-7). Charles would first marry Lizzie (maiden name unknown) and have one child, Charles Allen. He would later marry Amanda L. Green, who had a

219

Figure 3-7. Charles H. Simons (1865-1933) (courtesy HCF). son (William Green, b. 1891) by a previous marriage (Figure 3-8). Charles and Amanda would have no biological children of their own. 1867 â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Celia Mann signs her will with an 'X' on 25 August. She has four requests:

â&#x20AC;&#x153;First.- I desire that all my just debts be paid, Second.- To my three daughters, To wit, Dinah Collins, Julia Ann McMellen and Nancy Smith, I give twenty Dollars each to be paid to them by my Executrix as soon as practibable [sic] after my death, Third.- To Figure 3-8. Amanda Simons (d. 1960) (courtesy HCF). 220

my daughter Agnes Jackson who has always lived with me, I give and bequeath the House and Lot in which I now dwell with the appurentances [sic] thereto, together with all the rest and residue of my Estate both Real and Personal to Figure 3-9. Detail of an 1869 property map of Columbia (courtesy HCF).

her and her heirs forever. Fourth.- I appoint my daughter Agnes Jackson, the Executrix of

this my last will and Testament.” 1867 –

Celia Mann dies on 8 September. The Daily Phoenix publishes a notice the following day, reading: “Death of a Respected Colored Woman.— Celia Mann, an old and respected colored nurse, who was present at the birth of many of our citizens, departed this life yesterday.” A second notice on the same page reads: “Funeral Invitation: The friends and acquaintances of CELIA MANN and family, and of Nancy Smith and family, are respectfully invited to attend the funeral of the former, at the Calvary Baptist Church, THIS (Sunday) EVENING, at 3 o'clock.” The reference to Nancy Smith, but not Dinah Collins or Julia Ann McMellen, suggests Nancy may not have left yet for Boston, not all her family went to Boston with her, or Dinah and Julia had no children at the time.

HOUSEHOLD 2 AGNES JACKSON SIMONS 1869 –

Property Map of Columbia produced (Lee 1869; Figure 3-9). The lots are listed as belonging to “Man” (two years after her death).

221

Figure 3-10. 1872 Bird's-Eye-View-Map of Columbia, noting the location of the MannSimons house (Library of Congress). 1872 –

Bird's Eye View Map of Columbia, South Carolina produced (Dire 1872; Figure 3-10). This is the first depiction of structures on the property.

Pre-1872 –

Structure at 1407-1/2 constructed. Actual date is unknown, but it is depicted on the 1872 map. According to family history, it was a threeroom structure. City Directories indicate it was rented to extended family members. The structure is seen in the 1969 photograph of the back yard (Figure 3-11).

1872-1880s – The structure at 1407 Richland Street is built (Figure 3-12). 1872-1880s – The house at 1904 Marion Street is constructed (Figure 3-13). Archaeology indicates that it was originally a shotgun-style house, oriented length-wise to the street (Figure 3-14). The house was occupied by family members until 1925. 222

1872-1880s – Research by John Milner and Associates (2010) suggests that the current house at 1403 Richland Street was built during this time period. This raises the highly-speculative Figure 3-11. Circa 1969 photograph of the backyard area between 1904 Marion (left, out of picture), 1407-1/2 Richland (center), and 1403 Richland (right) (courtesy HCF).

possibility that the house at 1904 Marion Street was constructed to house the family while the larger 1403 Marion Street house was being built. More on this in Chapter 5. 1875 –

Celia Simons

born, eighth and youngest Figure 3-12. Circa 1969 photograph of 1407 Richland Street (courtesy HCF).

child of Agnes Jackson (Figure 3-15). Celia would

marry Thomas Smith (b. 1874) and have three children. 1879 –

City Directory lists Agnes as the widow of Thomas Jackson (although based on surnames of children, she likely became a widow between 1853 and 1858).

1885 –

Agnes Jackson is listed in the City Directory as a baker.

223

1885-1905 – Charles and John Simons are occasionally listed in the City Directories as tailors for Robert J. Palmer, a professional tailor with property in Columbia and

Figure 3-13. Circa 1969 photograph of 1904 Marion Street. The back porch of 1403 Richland Street is at the right (courtesy HCF).

Washington, D.C. 1888 –

John Simons is listed as a “Mfr. of walking canes, etc.” in the City Directory.

1890 –

Ben DeLane dies in Charleston, SC, on 28 July (age 90) of 'Val. Dis of Heart' and 'dropsy' (from death certificate). He is listed as living at 4 Wilson

Figure 3-14. Evolution of house at 1904 Marion Street. Pink is the first incarnation, followed by blue and then green. 1891 –

Street, Charleston, for over 20 years (Graham 2009).

The lunch counter is built at 1401 Richland Street (former 58 East Richland Street, northeast corner of Richland and Marion Streets; Figure 3-16). Archaeology indicates it was 16 x 16-feet. Construction date is

224

known from City Directories. Proprietor: John L. Simons. At the time, John was living at 1904 Marion Street. The details of the lunch counter are discussed in Chapters 2, 4 and 5. Mid-1890s – First addition to house 1904 Marion Street constructed. Dates known from archaeology (see Figure 3-14). 1899-1903 – Allen Willaims (shoe maker) and J. B. Carroll (furniture repairperson), Figure 3-15. Celia Smith. Date of photograph unknown (courtesy HCF).

lived and operated shops at 1407 Richland Street. Allen Williams is likely related to

Richard Williams, Hattie Jackson's husband. They may have been living/working there earlier, as the City Directories before 1899 are somewhat inconsistent. 1900 –

The Federal Census indicates that 13 people live at 1403 Richland Street, including a 16 year old maid named Minnie Thompson.

1903 –

Agnes Jackson is listed in the City Directory as a cook.

1903-1909 – Archaeology suggests that the property is wired for electricity by this time (including the lunch counter). 1904 –

The first Sanborn map is produced depicting the Mann-Simons lots (Figure 3-16).

1904—1905 – John L. Simons runs a grocery at 1407 Richland Street property.

225

1906 –

Charles Simons takes over the grocery business at 1407 Richland Street from his brother John. He runs the grocery until his death in 1933.

1906—1909 – Charles Simons is listed as head-of-household at 1910 Marion Street, north of the Mann-Simons house on the same block. Figure 3-16. 1904 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map of Columbia. The lunch counter is the lower left structure (South Caroliniana Library).

1907 –

Agnes Jackson is listed in the City Directory as a laundress.

1907 –

Agnes Jackson dies. Charles Simons appointed as executor of estate, with instructions to “sell for cash to the highest bidder, after advertisement once a

Figure 3-17. Bernice Connors standing in front of 1403 Richland Street. Date of photograph unknown (courtesy HCF).

226

week for three consecutive weeks in one of the daily

papers published in the said city of Columbia.” Harriet Richardson, Agnes' eldest daughter, purchases the estate for $1,500.00.

HOUSEHOLD 3 CHARLES H. SIMONS 1908 –

Harriet Richardson sells the estate to Charles for $1,000.00 (Burr 1977).

1908 –

Bernice Connors, niece of Amanda Simons, is born (Figure 3-17).

1909 –

Richard Williams, husband of Hattie, is listed as head-of-household at 1403 Richland Street following the death of Agnes.

1909 –

The lunch counter catches fire and is torn down. City Directories indicate last year of operation. Archaeology indicates fire. Following the fire, the counter is gutted and dumped into pit feature directly behind structure. Archaeology provides a material snap-shot of day-to-day operations of the counter—arguably the most significant discoveries at the site. 1909 –

Richard Williams, husband of Hattie, is working as a baker at Riedlinger's Bakery (from City Directory).

1910 – Charles Simons becomes head-ofhousehold at 1403 Richland Street. Figure 3-18. 1910 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map (South Caroliniana Library). 227

1910 – Sanborn map indicates three

changes to the property since 1904: the lunch counter is gone, a front porch is added to 1403 Richland Street, and a small addition is constructed on the northwest corner of the grocery at 1407 Richland Street (Figure 3-18). 1910 –

First City Directory to list

Amanda as wife of Charles Simons. The 1903 City Directory lists Figure 3-19. 1919 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map. Note the three identical structures north of the Mann-Simons property (South Caroliniana Library).

Amanda as living at 1631 Richland Street, two blocks east of Mann-Simons. Amanda's first husband,

Joseph

Green, a ship captain, was lost at sea when his ship sank (Connors 1998:22). 1910 –

John L. Simons moves from 1904 Marion Street to 1912 Marion Street. He builds a new lunch counter at 1904 Marion Street, next to his new house at 1912 Marion (from City Directories and Sanborn map). Both the house and lunch counter are razed between 1912 and 1913.

1912 –

Charles Simons becomes a Worshipful Master in the Free Masons, Capital City Lodge No. 47. His brother John was also a Mason. Amanda Simons was a member of the Eastern Star, Queen Esther Chapter No. 1.

1912-1913 – Charles Simons razes four residential structures to the north at 1906, 1910, 1912 and 1914 Marion Street. Likely American Four-Squares, three new

228

houses are built in their place (Figure 3-19). City Directories indicate Charles rents the houses to individuals identified as “white.” 1912-1915 – John Simons opens (and closes) a series of restaurants over a four year period: in 1912 at 1007 Gervais Street, in 1913 at 1906 Main Street, in 914 at 1124 Richland Street, and lastly, in 1915 at 1912 Main Street. 1913 –

Earliest known date for a telephone at 1407 Richland Street, the grocery store (tel # = 1222).

1913 –

An article in the Columbia Record, 10 February, names Charles Simons as a committee member for “Negro Day at Corn Show.” Booker T. Washington was scheduled to speak at the show.

1913 –

A classified ad in the Columbia Record, 10 February, reads: “FOR RENT —To gentleman, one nicely furnished room in private family, with or without meals, with hot and cold water. Apply 1908 Marion Street.” This is one of the properties Charles owned and rented. The family he was renting to was likely taking in a boarder. The advertisement indicates the neighborhood had been plumbed for water.

1913 –

Four articles in the Columbia Record (11, 12, 13, and 16 November) detail the arrests and court hearings of individuals involved in a “Church Row” at the First Calvary Baptist church on 10 October. A minority faction within the church called for the removal of the pastor, who was accused of “gross immoral conduct.” John L. Simons, on the side of the pastor, was arrested for having told an anti-pastor individual that he would “ram his fist down his throat.” The 13 November article states that John “is a

229

brother of C. H. Simons, chairman of the board of trustees and is as bitterly opposed to the retention of the present pastor as his deacon brother is for keeping [the pastor] in the church.” All charges dismissed. 1914 –

Charles and Amanda adopt Bernice Connors, the daughter of Amanda's sister Emma Franklin, who passed away for unknown reasons. She is six years old.

1919 –

Sanborn map indicates additional changes to the property: a back porch at 1403 Richland Street was added, the addition to 1407 Richland Street was removed, and a small, 10 x 13-foot structure (shed?) was built in the backyard (see Figure 3-19). The door faced south. Archaeology suggests post-in-ground construction.

1920s (early) – By this time, the property is piped for sewerage and the privy is closed. Second addition to house at 1904 Marion Street constructed. Archaeology suggests dates for these changes as well as location of bathroom/toilet and kitchen at 1904 Marion Street. Construction date of the privy is unknown. Archaeology suggests the unlined privy was 5 x 5 feet on 2-1/2 foot centers, supported by 4 x 4 inch posts. The door likely faced east. 1925 –

Minnie Thompson (former maid) moves into the house at 1904 Marion Street as a renter. She lives there until the early 1940s.

1932 –

In January, Amanda Simons sells the lot at 1908 Marion Street to Lula Kelley, who had been renting the house with her husband William B. since 1915. The Kelley's were white.

1933 –

Charles Simons dies. He was 68 years old.

230

HOUSEHOLD 4 AMANDA GREEN SIMONS 1939 –

By this time, Amanda had stopped running the grocery at 1407 Richland Street. Over the next twenty years, she rents the building to a series of small business owners, including a grocer, plumber and electrician. All renters are listed in the City Directories as white individuals.

1940s –

Amanda Simons sells the properties to the north (1910/12 and 1914 Marion Street) that Charles built and rented.

1945 –

Celia (Simons) Smith, youngest daughter of Agnes Jackson, dies. She was 70 years old.

1956 –

Sanborn map suggests the property is identical to the 1919 map, including the location of the small, backyard structure (shed?) and the footprint of the house at 1904 Marion Street. Archaeology suggests that the second addition to the 1904 Marion Street house was built in the early 1920s. Due to copyright laws, I am unable to show the 1956 Sanborn map.

1956-1969 – A small, 12 x 12-foot structure (shed?) is built in the back yard area (see Figure 3-11). This shed may have been a replacement for the backyard structure depicted on the 1919 and 1956 Sanborn maps. Archaeology suggests overlapping footprints. 1958 –

Columbia tax map depicts the footprint of the house at 1904 Marion Street as matching the archaeology (second addition in-place). Either the 1956 Sanborn map is wrong or the second addition was constructed between

231

Figure 3-20. Rear-view photograph of the 1403 Richland Street house taken in the 1960s (South Caroliniana Library). 1956 and 1958. Both of these are inconsistent with the archaeology, which suggests the addition was constructed during the early 1920s.

HOUSEHOLD 5 BERNICE CONNORS 1960 â&#x20AC;&#x201C;

Amanda Simons dies. Bernice Connors inherits the estate, consisting of: 1 lot, 1 building

$20,000 232

1403 Richland St.

Figure 3-21. Photograph of the Mann-Simons properties taken in 1969 by the family. On the left is the house at 1904 Marion Street, center is 1403 Richland Street, and on the right is the grocery store at 1407 Richland Street (courtesy HCF). 1 lot, 2 buildings 1 lot, 1 building 1 lot, 1 building

$5,000 $5,000 $4,000

1407 & 1407 ½ Richland St. 1904 Marion St. N. 19th St., Philadelphia, PA

House furniture, fixtures, appliances at 1403 Richland St. valued at $500.00. $5.00 total cash property. (Last Will and Testament, Richland County Courthouse, Estate of Amanda L. Simons, April 19, 1960, Box 1009 #20 179) 1960s –

Joseph E. Winter, a house inspector, photographs the back of the house at 1403 Richland Street (Figure 3-20).

1969 –

Family takes photographs of the property before moving (Figures 3-11, 312, 3-13, 3-21). 233

Figure 3-22. 1974 photograph of the front of 1403 Richland Street during renovation work (courtesy HCF).

“HOUSEHOLD” 6 A HISTORIC PLACE 1970 –

27 July, Columbia Housing Authority takes ownership of property via eminent domain for construction of low-income, senior apartment complex. Housing Authority documents property, including photographs. With their help, a search in 2005 of their archives indicates that this documentation is lost.

1974 –

The Richland County Historic Preservation Commission acquires the 1403 Richland Street lot from the Columbia Housing Authority and renovates the house (Figure 3-22).

234

Figure 3-23. 1403 Richland Street today as a house museum (courtesy HCF). 1977 –

Julia Burr writes the first scholarly document about the Mann-Simons family/property.

1978 –

Mann-Simons becomes a house museum (Figure 3-23).

1979 –

First annual African American Jubilee of Heritage held at site.

1996 –

City of Columbia appoints Historic Columbia Foundation as steward of the Mann-Simons house.

1998 –

Oral histories of family members, including Bernice Connors, conducted by Vennie Deas-Moore. Partial transcription. Tapes lost.

1998 –

Bernice Connors dies at the age of 90. She was the last individual who lived at 1403 Richland Street. Those left only have memories of visiting the house.

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1998 –

First archaeology conducted at the site by Chris Clement of SCIAA on behalf of Historic Columbia Foundation. Two-hundred and fifty square feet excavated.

2005 –

Mann-Simons Archaeology Project initiated.

2007 –

Excavations associated with the Mann-Simons Archaeology Project completed 1 July. One-thousand eight-hundred and fifty square feet excavated.

CONCLUSION What I have presented in this chapter is an outline of the documentary evidence (along with some archaeology) available to construct the family and site histories written in this dissertation, which, of course, includes the actual presentation of that evidence. Summarized in three sentences, a different history could read: Passed on intact over four generations, the property that became the Mann-Simons site was shaped by cycles of family composition, size, and endeavors. In turn, these family cycles were shaped by this same property. Each generation of family, within a few years after assuming new household status, began to alter the residences and lots – structures were built and razed, garden spaces expanded and contracted, activities moved between inside and outside – and each of these property changes related to changes in family. The relationship between the production of knowledge (history), what we want to make sense of (the past), and discourse (narrative) is the same relationship implicated in the production and consumption of commodities and the commodification of heritage, the subjects of Chapters 4, 5 and 6, respectively.

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CHAPTER 4 A STORY OF PRODUCTION These trees are like old bones now shaken bare could they bear fruit now did they litter the yard with pecans then bakers gold coming right out of the earth do they remember the rich brown nutty scent the floured hands and eyes that still felt a tinge at the sight of sugar But after the rolling and the mixing and the waiting years of sweets made this kitchen and now what's left is a hole worn through its wood something missing I do believe there is something missing here between the bare boned trees and the chipped painted stairs that lack the eager sound of foot falls â&#x20AC;&#x201D;R. Heath, The Smell of Baking (2006)

We begin our stories of Mann-Simons with the external conditions within which the family enacted their day-to-day lives and routines. Not the external socio-political conditions, the 'historical context' found in most archaeological reports, but instead the reasons why such external material conditions existed in that form in that place during

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that time. Phrased as a question, I ask, what was the commodity environment like at this time and place? The answer is critical if we wish to construct an understanding of the day-to-day lives of the people whom created the archaeological deposits from which we interpret. To understand consumption, one must first understand the range of goods from which people had available to choose. The consequence of not examining the external material conditions prior to any investigation of consumption â&#x20AC;&#x201C; at any scale of analysis â&#x20AC;&#x201C; is to risk erroneously attributing a degree of commodity variation to the agency of the consumer and not the market conditions within which the consumer acted. A fictitious scenario will help illustrate. Imagine a town with only one place to shop, one of those super stores so common today (we can pretend there is no mail order or internet shopping or driving to the next town). Further imagine we want to study consumer choice in this town. We want to understand why people buy what they buy and perhaps determine if there are correlations between their choices and social categories like race/ethnicity, gender/sex, class, age, and so on. We pay close attention to what each person buys, place the shoppers in our social categories, and note what each brings to the store: personal preferences for colors, styles, materials, etc. (which, of course, are idiosyncratic, as well as tied to past social/material environments [Bourdieu 1990] and products of how individuals see themselves and want to be seen by others), available money to spend (a complex product of, in part, household, occupation, opportunities, and motivations behind resource allocation), utilitarian needs (although 'needs' are culturallyspecific beyond food, water, and some way to maintain body temperature, acknowledging that people do things differently in different places does not mean something is not a 238

need in that place, just that need is a dynamic quality), and so on. We note all of these, 'discover' interesting patterns, and put forth tentative explanations (i.e. theory). Except we are missing one important variable: who determined the range of variation from which these individuals are making their choices? Each person who went into the store and purchased something brought with them all of the desires and limitations and conditions noted above (and many more), but not one of those people had any control over the suite of objects stocked by the store. They made choices, and these choices, to varying degrees, 'fit' within their framework of needs, desires and preferences, but did so within an externally-defined material environment. A complementary analysis, suggested by Richard Schien (1997), asks not why someone is painting their house Colonial Williamsburg Blue, but instead, what are the conditions that allow Colonial Williamsburg Blue to be a color choice and a successful market option to begin with? So if we wish to understand why people had what they had, and how those objects 'fit' within their practices, routines, and day-to-day lives, we first need to ignore those same people. And to understand something of the broad development of our modern culture of consumption, we need to do more than ask what the commodity environment looked like at a given time and place, we need to ask why it took that form and not another (to do away with that ever-present specter 'progress1). It is to this dual purpose – understanding why the objects consumed by the Mann-Simons family were choices to

1 As Carolyn Marvin (1986:215-216) put it: “Our amnesia is testimony to the tendency to read history backward from the present—to see it as the process by which our ancestors looked for and gradually discovered us rather than as a succession of self-contained accounts of a moral order … If every present attempts to colonize the past with its own spirit, it also appropriates the future with equal enthusiasm.”

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begin with and how these objects shaped/were shaped by practices and routines – we begin with a story of production. In the sections that follow, I examine two discursive structures that profoundly influenced production and structured the form of commodities as produced objects as well as the commodity environment at the turn-of-the-twentieth century: health and sanitation, and the materials of which materials are made. Instead of looking at what was potentially available, I look at what was actually consumed at the site. In other words, I examine how the recovered artifacts presented in Chapter 2 are related independently of the actions and behaviors of the Mann-Simons family in terms of these discourses, and not what range of goods might have been available to the family. To begin, I undertake the first of three deconstructions of the commodity concept. The goal of this first deconstruction is to develop an understanding of the commodity from a production or supply-side perspective in a way that lays a foundation for understanding, in Roseberry's (1988:163) words, “the formation of anthropological subjects ('real people doing real things') at the intersection of local interactions and relationships and … larger processes.”

COMMODITIES: SCENE ONE The great issue about commodities is the way in which they connect personal and social lives with questions about how society is organized, and does so at the level of the everyday through the most mundane of objects (Slater 1997). Given the prominence of commodities in American life from the mid-nineteenth century onward, not surprisingly, archaeologists have spilled much ink on their analysis. What is surprising is the 240

centrality afforded in most studies to the attitudes, decisions and actions of individual or household consumers at the expense of understanding the external material conditions and constraints within which these individuals and households enacted their lives. The reasons for this neglect appear to be twofold. The first is related to the practice of historical archaeology. There is a seeming need to always directly address the occupants of a site throughout analysis, regardless of what issues the site might inform independently of who occupied the site. Commodity flow studies offer notable exceptions (c.f. Adams, et al. 2001 and Riordan & Adams 1985). The second is a lack of definition for the unit of analysis. This is a problem. Definition is analogous to resolution: in the same way it is impossible to produce a second-generation image with a resolution greater than the original, it is likewise impossible to produce an interpretation more nuanced than the defined unit of analysis. Few archaeologists define ‘commodity,’ but a review of articles over the past twenty-five years suggests that most historical archaeologists would agree with Suzanne Spencer-Wood’s (1987) loose Marxian definition: a commodity is an object a company produces specifically to serve regional, national, and/or international markets. In a review article of commodity studies in archaeology, Charles Orser (1992:97) found that commodities are 1) “objects produced for exchange within concrete social contexts,” 2) “items created specifically for exchange,” and 3) “the abstraction of social labor.” The difference between the first two definitions of commodity exchange and gifting is not clear. Orser goes on to say that commodities are by nature: useful, products of human labor, and – drawing on Marx’s idea of commodity fetishism – “objectified as a produced 241

‘thing’ capable of being exchanged for something else” (1992:97). This last definition is so general that it fails to differentiate commodity exchange from bartering. Most often, it is just not clear what an author means beyond a generalized idea of a commodity as some kind of market-oriented object. This is not so different from Noel Castree’s (2004:25) observation in human geography, where he found the only agreement is “a general sense that a commodity is something that can be sold and/or exchanged.” A good place to start understanding commodities is with the relationship between value and knowledge, as made by Arjun Appadurai (1986). Appadurai’s conceptualization of commodities is a reaction against, on one hand, the type of loose definitions outlined above, and on the other hand, the analytical reduction of the commodity to being a certain kind of thing; a static, positivist understanding found in neoclassical economics and elsewhere (where a thing either is, or is not, a commodity). His approach, which stresses the exchange potential of a thing along its life trajectory, from production, through distribution, to consumption, begins by understanding a commodity as a thing in a particular situation:

I propose that the commodity situation in the social life of any ‘thing’ be defined as the situation in which its exchangeability (past, present, or future) for some other thing is its socially relevant feature. Further, the commodity situation, defined this way, can be disaggregated into: (1) the commodity phase of the social life of any thing; (2) the commodity candidacy of any thing; and (3) the commodity context in which any thing may be placed (1986:13, emphasis in original).

These aspects of commodity situation require some explanation. Commodity phase refers to the potential of a thing to move in and out of ‘commodity-hood’ throughout its 242

existence. In other words, without changing its materiality, a thing can be a commodity at one point along its life trajectory and not a commodity at another point. Commodity candidacy refers to the criteria used to define exchangeability in a particular social/historical context. These criteria are the shared, agreed upon standards of value by the participants involved in the exchange of the thing. Criteria are highly variable and context specific. The commodity context refers to the social arenas within which a thing’s candidacy is linked to the commodity phase of its life trajectory. Thus, commodities are “things that, at a certain phase in their careers and in a particular context, meet the requirements of commodity candidacy” (1986:16, emphasis in original). No longer are ‘commodity-hood’ and value intrinsic attributes of an object, to be determined and then taken for granted in analysis. Appadurai’s understanding of commodities – the approach I take in this study – has several important implications. First, it foregrounds the material in understanding the social. Second, it necessitates understanding a thing-in-motion along its entire career to understand the thing itself. Third, by moving analytical focus away from the thing to the thing-in-motion, not only is it easier to understand how different knowledges – discourses – come about in relation to commodities, it becomes a requirement. Two forms of knowledge are of importance here. First is the knowledge associated with the production and distribution of a commodity, the focus of this chapter, and second is the knowledge associated with consuming a commodity, the focus of Chapter 5. In Chapter 6, with a focus on the commodification of heritage, I examine how the forms and distributions of these two sorts of knowledge diverge as the social, spatial, and temporal distance 243

between production and consumption contexts increases. So how have researchers approached things-in-motion and the production of commodities from a site perspective?

COMMODITY FLOW From the 1950s through the 1970s, commodity flow was a popular metaphor in geography for understanding the link between production and consumption. In archaeology conducted in the United States, commodity flow studies are all based on the work of the geographer Allen Pred (1970), who was interested in how manufactured goods are produced and distributed. Pred proposed a commodity flow model based on the relationship between producers of manufactured goods and consumer access to those same goods. Given their prominence in American archaeology, his ideas are worth examining in detail. To foreshadow the conclusion of this section, I argue that commodity flow studies, unpopular today because of a general reaction against predictive modeling, have genuine utility if thought of as a 'test' for alternate market interactions at the site level. Pred explains that commodity flows are composed of several factors, including the type of goods being manufactured, the geographical location of the producer, the geographical location of the consumer, the transportation network used to move the goods from manufacturer to consumer, and the volume of goods moving from producer to consumer. A particular commodity flow is the link between a specific manufacturer and a specific area of consumption. For example, one might look at a particular flow between a glassmaker in New York City and a rural town in Nevada. This flow would be 244

composed of the commodity type (glass), the number of goods being moved (the volume), and how those goods moved from New York City to Nevada (the transportation network). It is further possible to look at how the components of a particular commodity flow (type, volume, and/or transportation) changed over time. When looking at commodity flows on a regional, national or international level, it is the sum of particular flows that are analyzed. For example, one might investigate commodity flow from the Northeast to the Southwest or from Western Europe to America. In this case, all flows and their components are combined to produce an overall picture of how goods move from producer to consumer. Pred developed a typology of manufacturing flows based on Industry Type and Market Access. Industry Type is divided into three types. Raw Material and Power Oriented Industries extract raw materials to be transported elsewhere to be manufactured into finished goods. Market Oriented Industries serve regional and national markets. Labor Related or Agglomeration Economies manufacture finished goods that either have very low production costs per unit or are of such high value that transportation costs are not a factor. Using a land and sea transportation network, Pred arbitrarily defined market access as the percent of access below New York City. Figure 4-1 illustrates how Pred divided the country into areas and percentages. These areas are High Access (0 to 25 percent below New York City), Intermediate Access (25 to 40 percent below), and Low Access (more than 40 percent below). In other words, Pred assumes that the residents of New York City have full access to goods manufactured in the High Access Area and that 245

Figure 4-1. Map showing how Pred (1970) divided the country into access areas and percentages. The red dot indicates the location of Columbia, South Carolina (used by permission of Timothy B. Riordan; redrawn by Ana Albu). consumers living away from New York City have less than full access to those same goods (e.g., a consumer living in Columbia, South Carolina, has 35 percent less access to goods than a consumer living in New York City). At the turn of the twentieth century, 65 percent of all manufacturing in the United States was located in the High Access Area (Riordan and Adams 1985). According to the Department of the Interior, who published Statistics of the Pottery Industry in the United States every five years, in 1911 there were 424 manufacturers of ceramic goods in the U.S. Of those, 64% (298) were located in the High Access Area, 26% (109) in the Intermediate Access Area, and 10% (17) were in the Low Access Area. Five years later,

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in 1916, there were 394 manufactures. Of those, 67% (264) were in the High Access Area, 25% (97) in the Intermediate Access Area, and 8% (33) in the Low Access Area. Market access is a function of both transportation networks and population size. Due to economy of scale, people living in high population areas have greater access to goods than those in more rural areas since small stores cannot afford a wide variety of goods (a function of both market size and demand level). Market Oriented Industries, the industry type examined in archaeological studies, in High Access Areas can distribute their goods furthest. Industries of the same type located in Intermediate or Low Access Areas are not able to compete in High Access Areas, since they would not be able to overcome transportation costs, and are therefore confined to regional markets within the same Access Area. The first to explicitly investigate commodity flow in historical archaeology were Timothy B. Riordan and William H. Adams (1985), who further developed Pred's commodity flow model. They hypothesized that â&#x20AC;&#x153;when located in different geographic regions, sites having the same access to the national market will show greater similarity to each other than to sites having different access, even when located in the same regionâ&#x20AC;? (1985:8). Comparing artifact frequency by access area, they measured the total volume of goods moving from local, regional, and national manufacturers to a particular consumption area. This volume of goods is independent of the actual number of flows. For example, a single manufacturer in a given access area producing 1,500 objects of a particular type would be the same as ten manufacturers in the same access area each

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producing 150 objects of the same type. It is the volume of goods moving that is important. Riordan and Adams predicted that sites in High Access Areas will be comprised mostly of artifacts originating within the High Access Area, with few artifacts from other areas. Sites within the Intermediate Access Area will show a high percent of goods from High Access Areas, since they can overcome transportation costs, but will have very few artifacts manufactured in Low Access Areas as transportation costs are too high to remain competitive. Sites within Low Access Areas should also show a high percentage of goods from High Access Areas, but will also have a high percentage of goods made within Low Access Areas, since transportation distances, and therefore costs, are low. Fewer goods originate within Intermediate Access Areas at these sites, as these manufacturers can match neither the distribution of High Access Area manufacturers nor the low transportation costs of local producers. In 2001, Adams, et al. extended Pred's commodity flow model to include Alaska as part of the Low Access Area. Using data from several sites in interior Alaska, Adams, et al. not only compared artifact frequency by access area, but also compared company frequency by access area, ignoring artifact totals. When company frequency is compared by access area, the total number of flows that exist between local, regional and national manufacturers and a particular consumption area are measured, which is independent of the volume of goods moving within these flows. For example, ten manufacturers in a given access area each producing 100 objects of a particular type would generate the same result as ten manufacturers in the same access area each producing 500 objects of 248

the same type. It is the actual number of links, or flows, that exist between various manufacturing locations and a particular consumption area that are important. Adams, et al. suggest that this approach avoids biases caused by reuse, artifact breakage, and individual preferences. I used two very large early twentieth century trash deposits in Salt Lake City, Utah, as a case study to test the commodity flow model for the Intermountain West (Crockett 2003). In terms of artifact and company frequencies, the Salt Lake City assemblages fit the pattern predicted by both versions of the model for the spatial distribution of household consumer goods within the national market. But more importantly, these data gave insights into national economic and market changes occurring during the early twentieth century. Building on previous studies, I suggested that over time, Intermediate Access Area manufacturers will increase their flows at the expense of the High Access Area, but in Low Access Areas the increase will be at the expense of the Intermediate Access Area. This result occurs as neither Intermediate nor Low Access Area manufacturers are able to overcome the distribution networks already established by High Access Area manufacturers and, due to transportation costs, Low and Intermediate Area manufacturers are competitive only within their own market areas.

COMMODITY FLOW AT MANN-SIMONS The commodity flow model never reached its full potential in archaeology. I suspect the reason for this is related to the death of predictive modeling in the 1990s in historical archaeologyâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the model never had a chance to be fully explored. But we may

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have thrown the baby out with the bathwater. A look at the Mann-Simons site by way of the model illustrates how a commodity flow analysis is a useful 'test' for identifying possible alternate market interactions from the site level. It is thus not a final analysis, but a first step in understanding market interactions. A total of 35 objects (MNI) with U.S. makers' marks traceable to the location of manufacture were recovered from the four trash pit features used in this example: the lunch counter (Feature 12T), 34C-Complex, 49J-Complex, and privy deposits (39JComplex) (Table 4-1). Combined, there was a total of 2,795 objects (MNI) recovered from the trash pits, meaning only 1.25% of the total is used in this analysis. Each feature was created during the 1910s or later part of the previous decade. Given the specialized nature of ammunition manufacturing, recovered cartridges were not used in analysis. 250

A comparison of artifact frequency by access area shows that 97.1% of the total number of recovered artifacts originated within the High Access Area, 2.9% of the goods came from the Intermediate Access Area, while no goods were from the Low Access Area. Company frequency by access area shows that of the 20 companies represented, 95% of the companies manufacturing consumer goods imported into Columbia were located within the High Access Area, 5% were located within the Intermediate Access Area, while none were in the Low Access Area. Looking at Figure 4-1, the model predicts that a person living in Columbia would have 35% less access to goods manufactured in the High Access Area compared to a person living in New York City. Predicted artifact frequency by access area would therefore have 65% of the recovered goods coming from the High Access Area. Predicted company frequency by access area would be the sameâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;65% of the companies producing goods consumed in Columbia would be located in the High Access Area. This is clearly not the case at the Mann-Simons site. Although sample size is small, what is the model telling us? Recalling that market access is a function of the geographical location of consumption and production site(s), transportation network(s) and population size, three explanations for these results are suggested. The first is related to economies of scale. People in high population areas have greater access to goods than those in low population areas, hence there are more goods flowing into an urban area and more companies servicing such areas since market size and demand level are both greater. At the turn-ofthe-twentieth century, Columbia was a mid-sized city that served as a railroad 251

interchange point for South Carolina. The results suggest that perhaps the model is not sensitive to variations in population density within a market access area, reflecting instead the aggregate of all consumption sites within an area. However, results from Peoria, Illinois (Cabak and Groover 1993), Salt Lake City, Utah (Crockett 2003), and Sandy Ground, New York, located near New York City (Riordan and Adams 1985) – all urban areas – fit the model's predicted pattern. The results therefore are not likely a function of population density. The second suggestion is that the Mann-Simons site does not fit the model, but Columbia as a whole does. The results could be a reflection of the types of businesses the family was involved in at the site, since restaurants and groceries might tie people into the wholesale market in ways individual consumers are not. Although individual consumers would have bought goods from a variety of retailers, like the grocery at MannSimons, and these retailers would each have different wholesale suppliers, unless the retailer was purchasing directly from the manufacturer, the goods they stocked and thereby the goods people consumed would still be a reflection of the nation-wide marketplace. This must remain an untested hypothesis, since unfortunately, there are no other archaeological data sets from the Columbia area with which to compare. The third – and most likely as well as interesting – suggestion is that Columbia as a whole does not fit the model. Not just Columbia, but the entire region east of the Appalachian mountains in the Intermediate Access Area. Commodities only reach consumers after they are transported. This is a simple but critical point. The primary overland transportation network at the turn-of-the-twentieth century was rail. Railroads 252

Figure 4-2. 1887 map of the major rail lines in the United States. The arrow points to the Piedmont line. using steam power went out of their way to avoid inclines (and still do). When long inclines were unavoidable, like when a mountain range needed to be crossed, extra (“helper”) engines were added to the train at the base and cut out at the top—all of which was slow and expensive. Although a far less formidable barrier than the Rocky Mountains, the Appalachian Mountains nonetheless affected transportation routes along the eastern seaboard, and thereby affected the distribution of goods moving along those routes. Figure 4-2 illustrates the major rail lines in 1887—the primary distribution routes. Note how the Piedmont Railroad Line, from Atlanta, GA to Richmond, VA, follows the eastern contour of the Appalachian Mountains. Figure 4-3 illustrates the major and trunk rail lines in 1918. Note how the Piedmont Railroad Line is the same primary rail artery for the region, 31-years later. The take-home point is it would have 253

Figure 4-3. 1918 map of the major rail lines in the United States. The arrow points to the Piedmont line. been less expensive to transport goods down from the northeast than bring goods in from points northwest. The results from the commodity flow model analysis at Mann-Simons point to a possible new pattern of commodity distribution affecting what goods were available to people, and thereby from which goods they had available to choose. It also suggests that, in terms of the availability of commodities produced in different regions of the country, the American South was far from a homogeneous entityâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;there may actually have been less market diversity in a place like Columbia than, for example, the rural town of Bay Springs, Mississippi (Riordan and Adams 1985) or Fairbanks, Alaska (Adams, et al. 2000). This is a big suggestion for one site. Further investigation â&#x20AC;&#x201C; i.e. testing this hypothesis with data from both sides of the Appalachian mountain range south of 254

Virginia â&#x20AC;&#x201C; has the potential to yield a new understanding of commodity flow and market interactions affecting consumer choice and goods acquisition in turn-of-the-twentieth century America. The commodity flow model is not the sexiest of analyses, but as the results from the Mann-Simons site demonstrate, the model is an interesting and useful starting point for understanding possible alternate market interactions for a site and regionâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; alternatives that are not readily apparent without such analysis. The drawback of the model, also demonstrated by the Mann-Simons site, is that it requires comparative data which is not always available. Without such comparative data, the commodity chain approach offers an alternative.

COMMODITY CHAINS Except for Colono ware, Catawba ware, terracotta pipes, and other 'exotic' objects produced for sale, most archaeologists working in North American contexts seem to have lost interest in the movement of commodities as an analytical device for linking production and consumption to understand everyday life (George Miller's 2007 publication on the importation of English ceramic tablewares to the United States is a notable exception). Geographers and cultural anthropologists, on the other hand, have continued refining the approach by replacing commodity flow with several new metaphors, the most common being that of the commodity chain. The commodity chain approach was developed by world-systems theorists like Immanuel Wallerstein, who defined a commodity chain as â&#x20AC;&#x153;a network of labor and production processes whose end 255

result is a finished commodity” (in Talbot 1997). The commodity chain is seen as a series of nodes linked by various kinds of transactions that involve various inputs, labor power, transportation, distribution, and consumption (Hartwick 2000; Talbot 1997). At each successive node, the commodity is transformed in some way; value is added to the commodity through physical transformation or appropriation. Whereas commodity flow analyses tended to look at inter-regional production/consumption links within, say, the United States, commodity chain analyses tend to be associated with studies of globalization and/or development. Over the past 30 years, in tandem with a shift from Fordist to post-Fordist models of production, the focus of these studies has shifted from national to transnational processes. These transnational commodity chain analyses, sometimes called global commodity networks (GCN), overwhelmingly examine transnational processes involved in the production and consumption of a single commodity, a kind of ‘follow-the-thing’ analysis. Examples of this approach include the comprehensive social-spatial-historical study by Sidney Mintz (1985) in Sweetness and Power: The Place of Sugar in Modern History, Mona Domosh’s (2003) look at United States imperialism in China through the actions of the Heinz Corporation at the turn-of-the-twentieth century, Gail Hollander’s (2003) examination of the Florida sugar industry and the making of labor/class, the northeast African Qat trade reported by L. Casanelli (1986), and A. Hughes' (2004) look at ethical or “fair trade” commodities. These studies illuminate how the significance attached to a commodity differs from place to place, depending on where the commodities go and who encounters

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them. Put another way, these studies expose the polisemic nature of material things and the creation of value. And they make clear that commodities are social relations. Commodity chain studies are not limited to the academic world. Several books have been written that trace the social histories of a single commodity, including Mark Kurlansky's (1997) Cod: A Biography of the Fish that Changed the World, Barbara Freese's (2003) Coal: A Human History, and Kurlansky's (2003) Salt: A World History. Investigative journalists have also used the idea of commodity chains to explore social relations: “blood diamonds” from the Congo and Sierra Leone; Nike and child labor in China; Disney merchandise and Haitian labor exploitation. The documentary film Food, Inc. (2008), directed by Robert Kenner, explores the industrialization of food production in the United States and how what we eat is determined as much by corporate financial decisions as it is by individual choice. Although the phrase “commodity chain” might be unfamiliar to most people, the idea that commodities link the social realities of disparate groups of people is not. But if the commodity chain is a useful tool for understanding how things move, the multivalent meanings of things, and how commodities really are materialized (objectified) social relations, how do we understand the movement of commodities in a way that is useful given the unique conditions of archaeology? Given the static nature of archaeology and a focus on localized sites, is the commodity chain the best approach for understanding the lived, everyday realities of the people who made use of a wide-range of commodities on a daily basis? After all, nobody “rides” a commodity chain. That these studies reveal fragments of people’s everyday lives and a full biography of the thing 257

presents a paradox. On one hand, our interaction with any particular commodity is necessarily partial, that is, we experience a limited number of ‘phases’ (to use Appardurai’s term) in the life of any given commodity. On the other hand, it is these non-experienced phases that largely created the conditions for the interactions we do have with these objects. What is needed is an understanding of how the full suite of commodities available to consumers is implicated in the (re)production of everyday lives, and not just how people are implicated in the (re)production of the life of a single commodity. Instead of looking at a thing along its life trajectory, moving in and out of different commodity contexts, one solution to this paradox would be to hold a time and place constant (something for which archaeology is uniquely suited), look at how commodities moved in and out of this context, and how these intersecting chains changed over time—a context that more closely matches people's lived realities. Such a project is not only well beyond the scope of this dissertation, but to do properly would require an entire career dedicated to a single site. But it was through such exploration – how one might do such an analysis and what such analysis would even look like – that I first became aware that nearly all of the turn-of-the-twentieth century objects I was investigating from the site were being discussed in terms of health and sanitation. It was from this serendipitous pattern recognition that I came to focus on how different discourses materialized at the site and realized that a second solution to the paradox was to understand how discourses beyond the site-level at multiple scales – our first type of

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commodities knowledge – structured the availability and form of everyday commodities and linked producers with consumers. To that end, we begin with health and sanitation.

HEALTH AND SANITATION Discussions of health and sanitation are vast in the literature of the social sciences. But whereas most discussions focus on, for example, conceptions of dirty/clean (e.g. Bushman and Bushman 1988; Douglas 1966; Duffy 1990; Hoy 1996; Wright 1980), infrastructure (e.g. Melosi 2000; Rose 1995), nutrition/disease (e.g. Fisher, et al. 2007; Ross 1993), or waste (e.g. Geismar and Janowitz 1993; Strasser 1999; Thompson 1979), here I illustrate how discourses of health and sanitation link seemingly unrelated objects, behaviors, and ideas at different scales. This type of object association is similar to what archaeologists do as a routine part of interpretation: widely differing and unrelated artifacts are related to each other through some action, event or behavior, for instance, yard sweeping and discard. Here, the analysis is the same, only the links between seemingly unrelated objects are established at different scales through production-level discourses and not site-level behaviors. Health concerns were a motivational factor in product development and availability during the late nineteenth and early twentieth century (Lupton, et al. 1992). The authors of The Healthful House wrote in 1917, “At first thought it may seem gratuitous, this writing of healthful houses, for we have come to take healthful houses very much for granted. We put a sanitary this in one room and a sanitary that in another; we sing the praises of fresh air and light, and provide for them in our plans” (Robertson 259

and O’Donnell 1917:13). A general perusal of turn-of-the-twentieth century trade catalogs, popular magazines, industry literature, government publications, and “how-to” books reveals that concerns with health and sanitation were materializing across the full spectrum of commodities, from canned foods to linoleum. The Burt Olney Canning Company published Soups, Salads and Desserts: Their Making and Serving in 1910 for the general consumer. The first lines of their company description read,

Canned Foods must first of all be pure. Purity demands not only a clean factory but also clean methods. The factories of The Burt Olney Canning Company are model kitchens. They are away from the city, out in the open, in the midst of our own gardens. Our rigid system of sorting sends our fruits and vegetables through many hands, but those hands are clean. We inspect our employees as carefully as we do our products. Every utensil we use is frequently sterilized, the machinery being cleaned several times a day with steam at a high pressure. Every drop of water we use is filtered (1910:31).

On page 11 of a 1910 booklet entitled Helpful Hints for Linoleum Salesmen, the Armstrong Cork Company writes,

An excellent sales argument to use with the housewife is the germdestroying action of linoleum. The following is an abstract of an article in a European technical journal: “The experimenter worked on inlaid linoleum that was seven years old and found that the tendency of all bacteria in the room was to collect on the floor. He found that the virulent typhosus and streptococci or pus formers were killed in eight hours, and that all impure micro-organisms brought in by dirty shoes were killed. He also did some work on the comparison of the bacterial content of rooms laid with carpet and linoleum, and found a wide difference in favor of linoleum. “The bactericidal power of linoleum is due to the fact that the acid gases, including formaldehyde and formic acid, strong bactericidal agents, are constantly given off as a result of the linoxyn formation [oxidized linseed oil].

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The Mann-Simons family may have chosen linoleum for use in the lunch counter for personal ascetics, but linoleum was only a market choice to begin with because discourses of health had materialized on a national scale in the flooring industry. Together with the massive development of urban infrastructures like trash pick-up, water, and sewer (Melosi 2000 provides a great introduction), the following makes clear just how much impact the materialization of a single discourse, health in this case, really had on the form and availability of commodities. In the following discussion, I present two health and sanitation-related domains as they materialized at the site: lighting/electricity and kitchens/bathrooms, followed by two case studiesâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the privy and lunch counter. The health-related domains illustrate how a range of seemingly-unrelated commodities recovered from the site are actually united through production-level discourses. The case studies illustrate how discourses of health and sanitation came together in the formation of landscapes; in the case of the privy, as yard layout and activity spaces, and in the case of the lunch counter, as an assemblage. But first, thinking about dirt(y) as 'matter out of place' and how this idea is at the root of health and sanitation discourses and their resulting commodities.

MATTER OUT OF PLACE In 1966, anthropologist Mary Douglas introduced (or resurrected, depending on who you read) the most clearly defined and useful conception of dirt(y), and by extension, clean(liness) and sanitary. Her definition is simple: dirt is â&#x20AC;&#x153;matter out of place.â&#x20AC;? Something is not in the location in which it is supposed to be. Like 'commodity,'

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dirt is a dynamic category; a process of categorization; a culturally-relative quantity not inherent in the thing itself. Douglas (1966:35-36) writes,

Shoes are not dirty in themselves, but it is dirty to place them on the dining-table; food is not dirty in itself, but it is dirty to leave cooking utensils in the bedroom, or food bespattered on clothing; similarly, bathroom equipment in the drawing room; clothing lying on chairs; out-door things in-doors; upstairs things downstairs; under-clothing appearing where over-clothing should be, and so on.

If dirty is something out of place, than cleaning is putting something back in its place, or at least removing it from where it should not be. “Cleaning-up” can refer to disinfecting a kitchen counter after preparing chicken, but it also refers to stacking up the magazines on the coffee table and removing paperwork from the kitchen table because guests are coming to visit. Like commodity-hood, objects move in-and-out of dirty-status depending on who is doing the classifying and the social context in which it occurs. “Matter out of place” is fluid, relative, and implies spatiality, but it also embodies ideas of marginality and proximity. A cockroach might not be thought of as dirty if it is outside in the woods away from us, but it is dirty if found on our bodies or in our beds. Garbage trucks take the trash to the waste management facility (“the dump” only a few years ago) on the edge of an undesirable part of town. One-hundred years ago it was placed in a pit in the back yard. Three-hundred years ago the same trash was thrown out the kitchen window. Nuclear waste is shipped to Nevada or western Utah. Electronics to be “recycled” are sent to Ghana, Vietnam, or some other 'third-world' nation. And like these marginal places, where unwanted stuff goes – i.e. away from 'us' – the people themselves are marginalized. During the late nineteenth century, a dirty girl was a 'slut,' 262

a female in need of a bath (Ashenburg 2007). The connotation of slut is different today, but not the undesirableness. Terms like 'trashy' and 'white trash' have nothing to do with ideas of illness related to being clean. A household might be 'trashy' because there are broken cars on the front lawn, a washing machine in the driveway, and other objects scattered across the yard. These people are 'trashy' because they apparently do not know where things are supposed to go. If trash and dirt are things in the wrong place—is it the same with trashy or dirty people? Not so directly, but it is telling that there is nearly always a push to move homeless shelters to the edge of town and that reducing crime and making cities safer is referred to as “cleaning up the streets.”2 Discourses of health and sanitation at the turn-of-the-twentieth century largely materialized as infrastructure or mass-produced commodities (or some combination of the two), but these discourses have at their core the idea of matter out of place. And what matter was out of place, and what that place might have been, changed over time, as did the goods and services designed to put or keep things where they belonged. And like the word 'slut,' over time meanings changed and their original use or reasons for being were appropriated through other discourses for different purposes.

LIGHTING AND ELECTRICITY “The Ideal Home!” writes Carroll Westall (1912:5) on the first page of Chapter 1 in the home design and etiquette book The House Electrical: Being a Brief Description of the Ideal Home and How to Plan and Equip It,

2 I thank Joseph Johnson for bringing the idea of “cleaning up the streets” to my attention.

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What pictures the very thought conjures up in the minds of the man and woman to-day! Pictures of beauty – health – convenience – comfort – safety – true utility. Yes, and of the union and blending of these and other qualities on the one supreme essence we call happiness. For the ideal home … must be dedicated to the principle of providing the greatest possible degree of happiness for life within its walls. The home! Happiness! How they are linked together in our minds! Happiness, – when considered by itself, a quality ethereal, independent of material things. Yet in this age, when linked with the home, dependent to quite a degree on creature comforts and conveniences—the comforts and conveniences which in many cases owe their very existence to the magic of electricity. “Magic,” we say, for it is the application of electricity to household needs which has revolutionized the modern home.

Although not everyone may have been quite as enthusiastic about electricity as Westall, electricity probably had a greater impact on the practices and routines of day-to-day life for people in the United States since the early 1900s than any other invention3. While the steam engines of the nineteenth century allowed for large-scale manufacturing and the movement of large quantities of materials over a transcontinental railroad in relatively short time, it was electricity that changed manufacturing – and the factory workday – from a daylight-only to a 24-hour activity with the introduction of the light bulb. Electricity allowed for the telegraph, radio, telephone, and refrigeration without ice. But electricity was a new quantity, and although people had no choice if their place of work installed arc-lamps and extended the work day into night, people did have a choice about electricity in the home. New 'needs' for home electrification were manufactured by associating new objects and services with previously-accepted ideas and practices (Strasser 1989). Along with ideas of convenience, comfort and utility, manufacturers of 3 Although electricity was not something invented, in this dissertation I refer to it as such as shorthand for the discovery of the physics behind electricity/magnetism and the invention of devices to manipulate these forms of energy. Or, more colorfully put in 1900: “The mysterious agent, Electricity, whose nature is as unknown as when it was only seen leaping in the clouds, has, during the Nineteenth Century, been tamed and harnessed by human ingenuity, until it has become man's most efficient servant” (Hanson 1900:205).

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electricity and electrical devices (the two were often the same) packaged electricity in terms of health to get their products into the homeâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;electricity was promoted as something people needed for common-sense reasons they already held. The Mann-Simons family had grid-supplied electricity at the site by 1904, just two decades after electrification began in cities in the 1880s. Grid-electricity is alternating current produced by a utility company and transmitted via a grid-work system of wires and transformers. The distinction between grid-electricity and electricity in general is a bit outdated today, but during the early years of home electrification, the distinction made sense, since batteries were often used to supply electricity for door bells (â&#x20AC;&#x153;annunciatorsâ&#x20AC;?) and telephones. In 1896, the EverReady Company produced the first commercial sealed battery, the 'C' and 'D' cells still used today, to fulfill this function. During the early 1920s, two decades after Mann-Simons had electricity, half of the homes in urban America were wired for electricity (Tobey 1996). We know the family had electricity by at least 1904 from the discovery of a fragment of sold-core copper grounding wire in the Feature 31C-Complex (artifact 31C77). As discussed in Chapter 2, the 31C-Complex was a trash pit created sometime between 1892, based on the presence of a crown cap bottle closure, and 1904, when the Sanborn map of the same year shows the footprint of the first addition to the house at 1904 Marion Street bisecting the pit. Searches for information concerning when the neighborhood or that portion of town was wired for electricity have so-far come up empty.

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All trash pits post-dating the introduction of electricity at the site contained electricity-related items. The Feature 34C-Complex, a trash pit with a TPQ date of 1907, contained two fragments of uninsulated sold-core copper grounding wire and a minimum of three 1/2-inch diameter carbon rods used in arc lamps. The Feature 49J-Complex, a trash pit created circa 1908 or 1909, contained a minimum of three knob-and-tube insulators, a light bulb receptacle designed to be mounted on a wall manufactured by the General Electric Co., three carbon rods used in arc lamps, an incised copper switch-plate for a push or twist button, and the base of a Thomas-Houston incandescent light bulb (see Figure 2-40). Thomas-Houston patented one of many alternatives to the Edison bulb, the bulb style in use today (Schroeder 1986). The lunch counter deposit, Feature 12T, contained two types of interior wiringâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the first, fragments of rubber coated, single silkbraid, solid core wire, the second, a fragment of rubber coated solid core wire of a different diameter. Also found in the deposit was a pressed tin, 2-wire connector, two fragments of carbon rods for an arc lamp, and a fragment of a Brush-Swan arc lamp base, a design patented by Charles Francis Brush in 1886 (Hanson 1900). From the privy (Feature 39J-Complex) was recovered a dry-pressed ceramic, 2-wire insulator cleat marked â&#x20AC;&#x153;E P Coâ&#x20AC;?, short for Electrical Porcelain Company, of East Liverpool, Ohio. Manufactured between 1903 and 1911, the Electrical Porcelain Company was absorbed by the General Porcelain Company in 1911 (Tod 1977:79). Also recovered were five electrical grounding rods, although assigning dates to the rods is highly problematic (see Chapter 2). Unlike, for example, the electric motor, none of the electrical items recovered from the Mann-Simons site in the first decade of the twentieth century 266

performed a new function; that is, in each case, objects already existed to fulfill a desire for artificial lighting. As previously mentioned, electricity, particularly electric light, was presented in terms of health and sanitation by manufacturers, authors of popular forums, and educators during the 1890s and the first decade of the twentieth century, and continued to be a prominent discursive strategy for promoting these items into the 1940s. This is not to say that manufacturers, etc. only presented electricity in terms of health, but that health was always a discursive strategy employed. During the early years, the marketing of electricity seems to have been somewhat of a shotgun affair, where electricity was promoted in terms of just about anything to which a consumer might respond. This is somewhat understandable, because electricity, instead of doing something new, was an intangible commodity that allowed new objects to perform functions already performed by existing objects – kerosene, oil and gas already provided light for the home, clothes irons were heated by stoves already stoked, food was cooked on that same stove, sewing machines had foot-pumps – thus, electricity had to be seen as a more attractive alternative for fulfilling already existing functions—as the quote presented at the start of this section illustrates. Appealing to health concerns was a prominent strategy for enticing consumers to adopt electricity, and since lighting was the most oft-cited reason for wiring a home for electricity, the health benefits of electric lighting were much promoted, including through an increasing number of courses in pubic schools. Between 1900 and 1915, educators in public schools began teaching not only the theoretical side of electricity – the science of electricity – and its practical application 267

with an eye towards the careers of students4, but also the benefits of electrification for health and general welfare (Rose 1995). Health and hygiene had long been taught in schools, but now educators began to attach these topics to electricity. This linking of health and electricity in education, in tandem with promotion of the germ theory of disease and instruction in public health, came in two forms. First was a perceived obligation to provide students with an environment conductive to learning. Proper heating, air circulation, and lighting were all identified as positively affecting the health and sight of students. Increasingly, school boards set standards regulating, for example, the amount of light in a classroom and the direction from which it should come. Second was the inclusion of the health benefits of electrical devices in classroom curriculum. Instruction the the public schools and the presence of electrical devices in the school buildings probably encouraged students to begin identifying hygiene and health with mechanical devices like light bulbs, electric window heaters, and fans. Health had a mechanical fix, and manufacturers were quick to market their goods in such terms. The Democracy of Goods that encouraged American consumers to equate equality in terms of commodities instead of wealth or status found a parallel in health and material goods, although often designed to invoke an added sense of guilt. General Electric captioned a 1910's magazine advertisement for light bulbs with “Here are the report cards of two boys,” contrasting the A's of the son of “thoughtful parents” with the C's and D's of the boy who studied in poor light (in Marchand 1986:298). Eye health was a common theme manufacturers used to promote electric light, although not all 4 Mark Rose (1995) notes how the teaching of the practical uses of electricity – boys were taught the techniques of appliance repair while girls were taught how to use electric sewing machines – helped develop and later reinforce gender boundaries surrounding the use of electrical appliances.

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manufacturers so obviously tried to manipulate consumers by placing a child's future success on a parent's choice to consume. In books, magazines and other advice forums, consumers were provided instructions for making a home healthy and sanitary with the aid of electricity. Percy Scrutton, in an 1898 book entitled Electricity in Town and Country Houses, writes of the advantages of electricity:

Now as to the reasons why electricity as a form of energy is to be preferred to all others for giving us light, heat, and power … For lighting: We have been accustomed to light our houses with gas, oil lamps, or candles … Coal gas is a great consumer of the vitalizing element, viz., the oxygen, in the air we breathe, and the products of combustion from a gas burner are poisonous. We know the headache and drowsiness which follow a stay in a badly ventilated room lighted by gas … The electric incandescent lamp which we use in our rooms consumes no air (Scrutton 1898:24-25).

Scrutton goes on to talk about the lack of “poisonous products” electric bulbs put off, creating no dirt on ceilings or walls, the ease of turning them on and off, and the ability to have decorative items near a bulb in a way one is unable to do with a flame—although his statement that “We can even immerse the electric lamp in water” (1898:27) seems not a particularly healthy suggestion. Twenty years later, in Mechanics of the Household: A Course of Study Devoted to Domestic Machinery and Household Mechanical Appliances, published in 1918 for use in schools, E. S. Keene writes on the first page of the chapter on electricity: “Because of its cleanliness and convenience, electricity is used in preference to other forms of lighting, even though its cost is relatively high” (305). A year earlier, reacting against the practice of hanging a bare light bulb from the center of the ceiling (Figure 4-4), 269

Robertson and O'Donnell (1917:137) wrote, “Many articles have recently been written by illuminating engineers and oculists, and it seems to be the consensus of opinion Figure 4-4. Circa 1900 photograph of a parlor room. Notice the bare light bulbs hanging from the ceiling (from author’s collection).

among these experts that lighting in the home should be so arranged that the eye

should never look directly at the incandescent filament.” The authors go on to say how direct lighting is far superior to general illumination for reading and household tasks as less strain is put on the eye, causing less headaches, and thereby making for a healthier individual. The Mann-Simons family may have been using electricity for more than just illumination – door bells, clothes irons and fans were all fairly common devices during the early years of electricity, and all were presented as cleaner, healthier, more sanitary options – but no archaeological evidence was found for more than household wiring and light bulbs. Even if the family only used electricity for lighting as late as 1922, they were one of the 60% of houses in the United States with electric lights (Tobey 1996:7), and were thus a fairly average household, at least in terms of electrical usage as part of a national aggregate. But as we will see in Chapter 5, the family was far from average 270

when taken out of a national aggregate and seen instead as a part of the population of African Americans in Columbia. Cleaner air, walls and ceilings â&#x20AC;&#x201C; dealing with matter out of place â&#x20AC;&#x201C; as well as a reduction in eye-strain through electric illumination, were seen as contributing to a healthier living environment, but it was through the kitchen and bathroom that manufacturers and advice-givers first entered the home with a full range of new commodities for healthy living and where we see the greatest effort to (re)define where 'matter' is supposed to go.

KITCHENS AND BATHROOMS Kitchens and bathrooms are part of a larger process of elimination; Lupton and Miller (1992:1) explain,

By the phrase process of elimination we refer to the overlapping patterns of biological digestion, economic consumption, and aesthetic simplification. The streamlined style of modern design, which served the new ideals of bodily hygiene and the manufacturing policy of planned obsolescence, emanated from the domestic landscape of the bathroom and kitchen. The organically modeled yet machine-made forms of streamlined objects collapsed the natural and the artificial, the biological and the industrial, into an aesthetics of waste.

The idea that biology, economics, and aesthetics are united through a process of intake and discard, one that first came together in the home through the kitchen and bathroom during the 1890s, is a useful framework for understanding how different discourses, particularly those related to health and sanitation, came together and materialized to produce specific landscapes within which new practices and routines took place. 271

Figure 4-5. What a "modern" bathroom looked like in 1916 (from author’s collection).

The bathroom did not exist prior to the late nineteenth century. Before indoor plumbing, bathing and bodily cleaning took place in the bedroom or kitchen. With plumbing – the delivery of water and disposal of waste – toilets and tubs took on fixed positions in the home; they became fixtures in a newly conceived space. Early bathrooms were fitted and decorated in the same manner as the rest of the house— draperies, carpets, carved details, wood surfaces. By the turn-of-the-twentieth century, these features had been replaced with white, washable surfaces and enameled equipment (Figure 4-5). By the 1910s, kitchens started to look more-and-more like bathrooms— non-porous, washable tiles for floors, walls, and work surfaces to resist dirt and germs; wrap-around fixtures like sinks, tubs and counters flush with walls and floors instead of 272

free-standing appliances on legs which create spaces for the accumulation of dirt; built-in cabinets; smooth, unadorned, linear forms over carved or cast details. The modern bathroom and kitchen – rooms designed to deal with the intake of food and elimination of bodily dirt and waste – was above all else, hygienic. At the same time the modern bathroom and kitchen were taking shape, so too was the mass production and consumption of commodities. The first brand-name commodities – all objects to be used and discarded – were products for the kitchen and bathroom (Strasser 1989)—soaps, toothpastes, mouthwashes, combs, toilet papers, patent medicines, cereals, coffee, juices, spices, lard, biscuits, fruits and vegetables. Planned obsolescence came about during this period too. Earnest Elmo Calkins, the individual to whom the ideas of planned obsolescence and artificial creation of demand through advertising are credited, wrote in his 1932 book Consumer Engineering: “Goods fall into two classes, those which we use, such as motor cars and safety razors, and those which we use up, such as tooth paste or soda bisquits. Consumer engineering must see to it that we use up the kind of goods we now merely use” (in Lupton and Miller 1992:6). Take-in and expel: the basic model of the economy, household, and body. The five trash deposits uncovered at the site spanning the 1890s to the late 1910s are material reflections of changing discourses of health and sanitation related to consumer goods produced for the kitchen and bathroom. Two time-lags are important to keep in mind when looking at trash deposits: production-lag and use-lag. Production-lag is the time it takes for changing discourses to materialize in commodities and become available to consumers. Use-lag is the time it takes for an object, once available for 273

consumption, to be purchased, used, and then discarded. Think of how often objects in your own home break or the frequency with which you use and then discard them. In the case of a food bottle, the period between consumption and discard might be quite short, a matter of hours or weeks. In the case of a bathroom fixture, the period might be years. How often does your bathroom sink break? How often is it replaced? With these two time-lags in mind, the trash deposits at Mann-Simons offer a particularly detailed view of how discourses of health and sanitation materialized in commodities intended for bathroom and kitchen use at the turn-of-the-twentieth century. Dirt, dust, germs, and bacteria were all types of matter to be kept in their place, i.e. not in the bathroom or kitchen. C.B. Smith, in his 1932 Home Owners Hand Book, writes, “In American homes, thanks to the gospel of personal hygiene preached by all health authorities for a quarter of a century, the bathroom has become the first essential to comfortable living” (1932:61). “Comfortable living” meant healthy living. And healthy meant simple and sterile. “The difference between good and cheap fixtures in this respect of cleanliness [i.e. price], writes Robertson and O'Donnell in 1917 on The Healthful House,

may be observed by running a pencil over a china cup and a cup of granite-ware. The pencil mark clings tenaciously to the enameled surface, whereas on the china cup it is removed with perfect ease … The built-in bathtub is to be recommended [because] they offer no corners that cannot be washed with perfect ease by the wiping cloth … In choosing a lavatory, the most important point to remember is cleanliness. Have all pipes and other parts of the fixture stand far enough from the wall so that every part can be reached easily and quickly by the cloth (pp. 187-189).

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In 1931, the U.S. Department of Commerce, in their Report of the Subcommittee on How to Judge a House, echoed the same sentiment on judging bathroom fixtures:

First, the tub should be built in; that is, it should set snugly against the wall and the floor. A tub on legs will scarcely be found in the modern bathroom; it makes cleaning more difficult â&#x20AC;Ś Many of the better lavatories are made of vitreous china which can not chip and are as easy to clean as a china plate â&#x20AC;Ś The all white bathroom, with its atmosphere of sanitation and cleanliness, has become extremely popular.

There is little difference in how advice-givers talked about bathrooms and kitchens. The earliest trash deposit presented in Chapter 2 is the 31C-Complex, created sometime between 1892 and 1904. Recovered from the deposit were two fragments of white, straight-edged industrial porcelain. Judging by the paste of the fragments, each was part of a different object. This instance is an example of how significance is not always related to quantity. That an object with such a long use-life would show-up in the archaeology is remarkable. But even more remarkable is that it showed-up in such an early deposit. Mann-Simons was not plumbed for water or sewer when the deposit was created, so neither the house at 1904 Marion Street nor the house at 1403 Richland Street had a bathroom. The industrial porcelain must have been from a counter-top in the shared-kitchen at 1403 Richland Street. In Chapter 5, we will see how this same artifact is part of a much different pattern. Floor and wall coverings for the kitchen and bathroom were, according to manufacturers and advice-givers, just as important for healthy living as built-in fixtures of industrial porcelain. One would expect a manufacturer of linoleum to draw on ideas of health and sanitation to sell their product, as in the earlier quote by the Armstrong Cork 275

Company, but we see that, for The Healthful Farmhouse (Dodd 1906:9), it is also “The best floor surface for a kitchen” because it wears well and is easily cleaned. In The Healthful House (Robertson and O'Donnell 1917:161), the ideal is a hardwood floor “covered with heavy oil cloth or linoleum—preferably the latter” since it contributes to cleanliness and is easy on the feet. Like sinks and tubs, industrial porcelain was preferred for counter tops, splash guards, and the lower portion of walls. By 1909, the MannSimons family had linoleum in the lunch counter along with green industrial-porcelain tiles. A bone toothbrush – part of the “new ideals of bodily hygiene” Lupton and Miller identified as part of a larger process of consumption and elimination at the start of this section – was recovered from the 49J-Complex trash deposit created in 1908 or 1909. A well-worn plastic Pyralin toothbrush was recovered from the privy deposit (39JComplex), circa 1915-1920. After his 1881 founding of the Tuskegee Institute, Booker T. Washington wrote, “Over and over again the students were reminded in those first years – and are reminded now – that people would excuse us for our poverty, for our lack of comforts and conveniences, but that they would not excuse us for dirt” (in Ashenburg 2007:212). Washington argued that the toothbrush brought about “a higher degree of civilization.” Many students arrived at the Institute with little more than the clothes they were wearing and a toothbrush (Ashenburg 2007). Chamber pots, wash basins, and water pitchers showed up in the trash deposits in great numbers during the first decade of the twentieth century. Although such items are fairly common items to periodically break, and thus show up in archaeological deposits, 276

their absence from deposits post-dating the filling-in of the privy between 1915 and 1920 suggests that these items were no longer being used, or at least, not being replaced after they broke. They may even have been thrown out intact, since the function for which they were designed had been replaced. Regardless, their presence in the trash deposits post-dating 1904, combined with industrial porcelain pre-1904, is evidence of changing production-level health concerns materializing at the site-level. 'Matter out of place' is at the root of these and other health and sanitation concerns. All ideas of dirty and clean are. What makes these concerns unique at the turn-of-the-twentieth century is their materialization as commodities. To have a clean, healthy, sanitary house, bathroom, kitchen, and body meant having access to the right material goods. One could be healthy, if the individual consumed the right products. Healthy practices meant having and doing, and having meant buying. With the shift from behavior-based practices (e.g. washing your hands in water; sweeping the kitchen floor) to having the right materials to enable â&#x20AC;&#x153;correctâ&#x20AC;? practices (e.g. washing your hands with soap; sweeping the kitchen floor covered in germ-resistive linoleum) in tandem with the development of consumer culture came two knowledges (discourses) still with us today: 1) solutions to living a good life (in this case, being healthy) can be/are found in commodities and 2) these commodities are indicators of equality, as the Booker T. Washington quote presented earlier so aptly illustrates and the idea of a Democracy of Goods so effectively played upon. But discourses change over time, and by the late 1930s, manufacturers, advertisers and promotional forums like Better Homes & Gardens, Keithâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Magazine, and 277

Popular Home Craft gave little mention to health in relation to kitchens, bathrooms, and electricity. Typical of this shift is the 1933 book My Home Guide, edited by Christine Holbrook, the Home-Furnishings Director of Better Homes & Gardens. On linoleum, no mention is made of health, only that “Delightful designs may be inlaid in linoleumcovered floors” and “there is not a room in the house that it could not be used in, should one prefer it to other coverings” (1933:22). For the bathroom, the only mention of sanitation is found in a figure caption: “Easy-to-clean walls and floors are the first requirements for a bathroom. The modern bathroom shown here fairly sparkles in its cleanliness” (1933:90). For the kitchen, Holbrook provides “10 simple rules which if followed will give the most convenient arrangement” (1933:97). None of the rules makes mention of health or sanitation. These commodity attributes, first conceived of and/or promoted in terms of health, were divorced from their discursive origins and became integral parts of modern or minimalist design, presented in terms of style, design, and convenience (often discussed in terms of time and/or household work), epitomized by such images as the 'kitchen-of-the-future' and a multitude of 'convenient' and 'time-saving' devices (c.f. Cowan 1983)5. An outcome of this discursive re-appropriation – an example of how landscape production is an on-going process grounded in history but “always, now and formerly, a present space” (Lefebvre 1974:37) – is the framework most often used today to understand this time period. But understanding the discursive origins of these and

5 A contemporary analogy is the cellular telephone: a 'convenient,' 'time-saving' device, completely divorced from its discursive origins in reliable military radio communication—actually, the same Cold War discourses that gave rise to the internet and interstate highway system (all are distributed networks designed to withstand attack).

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other commodities rooted health and sanitation is a necessity for understanding the commodity landscapes as they materialized at Mann-Simons and other sites of the period, as the following two case studies make clear.

THE PRIVY Privies, for obvious reasons, are much talked about in the archaeology literature. In the introduction to a special issue of the journal Historical Archaeology devoted to privies, Kathleen Wheeler (2000:1) wrote,

We feel that privies are important features embodying ideas about cleanliness, health, beauty, and privacy, as well as providing data on diet, socioeconomic status, divisions between households, construction methods, and maintenance behavior.

The following discussion adds to this list by examining how changes in the spatial arrangement of a site, and consequentially practices occurring within a site, are related to materializations of health and sanitation discourses from a top-down perspective. As I discussed in Chapter 2, the unlined privy at Mann-Simons was approximately four-feet deep with a wood frame superstructure, five-feet north to south, with 4 x 4-inch posts on 2.5-foot centers along the north and south walls. East-west dimensions are not known, although a multiple of 2.5-feet is likely. The roof was fully or partially composed of sheet metal. The privy was seemingly common to both houses at 1904 Marion and 1403 Richland Streets, as well as the three-room structure at 1407-1/2 Richland Street, as no other suggestions for another privy were found. It was filled-in sometime between 1915 and 1920 (see Figures 2-25, 2-26A, 2-26B). 279

The presence of a privy itself is evidence of health and sanitation concerns in urban areas. Human waste in crowded areas had to be dealt with. But unlike their counterparts in more rural areas, where once a privy was full it could be capped and a new privy dug, privies in urban areas were periodically cleaned-out. Space was at a premium and people did not have room on a small lot to dig multiple privy pits in their backyards. Not until 1850 would a vacuum device be invented in New York City to clean privies by sucking out the contents into wooden cask or tank on wheels. In cities without such vacuum devices, buckets and manual labor were the only solution. Individuals employed as privy cleaners were sometimes referred to as “Jake farmers” or the more demeaning label “Night Scavenger” (Geismar 1993). The lack of “night-soil” in the privy at Mann-Simons reflects these cleaning practices. Recovered was a very thin lens of night-soil from the floor of the privy (see Chapter 2). At the Mann-Simons site, discourses of health and sanitation, part of the bacteriological revolution that swept America and England beginning in the 1880s (Melosi 2000), materialized with the closing of the privy, an option made available by the city-wide development of a sewer system. The City of Columbia started building a sewer system in 1902 (South Carolina State Department 1907). In this respect, Columbia was a typical city for its size. That all the miles of pipes built over the following years did not serve everyone in downtown Columbia was also typical, an entitlement issue I explore in Chapter 5. Thus, the closing of the privy is a site-level expression of the materialization of the Columbia sewer system. The sewer system is itself a local expression of the

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materialization on a national-scale concerning the development of infrastructural systems, including clean water and trash disposal (Melosi 2000). The development of a sewer system in Columbia allowed for indoor plumbing at the site. The earliest deposit containing fragments of sewer/water piping is the 49JComplex, created in 1908 or 1909. All trash deposits contemporaneous with, or postdating the creation of the 49J-Complex contained either fragments of water/sewer pipes or pipe fittings. The availability of piped water and waste lines at the site resulted in, or allowed for (depending on perspective) the addition of two rooms at the 1904 Marion Street house and one room at 1403 Richland Street. Piped water and sewer lines are, of course, not required precursors for building new rooms, but their presence does suggest very specific functions for these rooms. As discussed in Chapters 2 and 3, the house at 1904 Marion Street was constructed sometime between 1872 and the 1880s (see Figure 3-14). Archaeology indicates that it was originally a shotgun-style house. The first addition to the house was constructed sometime before 1904. Artifacts from the 31C-Complex trash pit underlying the house suggests a mid-to-late-1890s construction date. The second addition is more difficult to date. Archaeology suggests that the addition was in-place by the early 1920s. The 1919 Sanborn map does not indicate any new construction to the house, which supports the archaeology. However, the 1956 Sanborn map, the only one produced since 1919, does not depict the addition either. Given that the 1956 Sanborn map is really the 1919 map with pasted-on changes, indicating that surveyors did not visit the property, I believe the 1956 map is in error. 281

Figure 4-6. Photograph of Block 1 illustrating the location of wastewater lines relative to the house at 1904 Marion Street. The yellow outline is the original shotgun structure; the blue outline is the first addition; and the red outline is the third addition. The arrow points to the 5-inch cast iron pipe. At 1403 Richland Street, a bathroom was added to the northeast corner of the house, as depicted in Figure 3-20. During the 1974 renovation of the house to prepare it to become a house museum, the bathroom was removed and the porch extended to the full width of the house, as seen in Figure 1-1. The date of this addition is unknown, but necessarily post-dates the availability of water and wastewater lines at the site. Uncovered during excavation of Block 1 were three wastewater lines representing two generations of sewerage systems (Figure 4-6). The first generation is represented by a 6-inch terracotta pipeline running northeast-southwest at a 45-degree angle through 282

Units 17 and 38. Unfortunately, it is unknown where this line may have terminated. Everything south of Unit 17 up to the back of the 1403 Richland Street house was destroyed during the 1974 renovations. Since there is no evidence of the pipeline in Block 2, the line running northeast from Unit 38 likely turned north within the space between Blocks 1 and 2 or, less likely, terminated within this space directly underneath the footprint of the second generation backyard structure discussed in Chapters 2 and 3 and seen in the 1969 photograph of the backyard (Figure 3-11). The segment of pipe uncovered in Unit 17 had an applied concrete patch, presumably to mend a cracked or broken section. While the pipes themselves offer no help in dating, and no usefully diagnostic artifacts were present in the trenches, a trash pit (Feature 17L) in Unit 17 intruded upon by the trench suggests that the pipe was laid sometime after the 1880s. A second terracotta line was uncovered near the surface in STP 101, running north from (perpendicular to) Richland Street along the west side of the structure at 1407 Richland Street. None of the portions of terracotta pipe, nor their extrapolated extents, suggest where, if at all, they may have tied into any of the structures at the site. The second generation of sewerage at the site was represented by a 2-1/2 inch cast iron pipe running east-west in Unit 59 and a 5-inch cast iron pipe running northwestsoutheast at a 45-degree angle to the site in Unit 36. Resting in a hand-dug trench, a continuation of the trench (F17) exposed by Clement, et al. in Unit N490 E545, the 5inch pipeline is particularly interesting for three reasons. First, the exposed portion of the trench in Unit 36 represents a termination point. Although segments of the pipe had completely rusted away, still intact was an in situ brick bat that would have supported a 283

90-degree elbow joint, giving us the exact location of where the line entered the house at 1904 Marion Street. This entry point is located underneath the second addition to the house, which is the likely location of a bathroom. Second, the end portion of the pipe is a fitting with a threaded 1-inch opening (see Figure 2-45). The method of sealing the joint between the pipe and fitting is consistent with plumbing techniques of the early twentieth century: (1) the 3.5-inch long cast iron fitting was placed over the end of the pipe; (2) a length of fibrous rope was pounded into the space between the fitting and the exterior of the pipe; (3) molten lead was poured into the gap between pipe and fitting, thus sealing the joint (Mark Crockett, pers. comm. 2010). The third reason this pipe is particularly interesting is its orientation to the terracotta pipeline. If both lines are extrapolated beyond their excavated extents, they cross at a 90-degree angle at approximately N495 E544.5. Given that they represent two generations of water management, their opposite orientations suggest a reorienting of tie-in points to the main sewer line running under the streets, and thus a change in the city-wide sewerage system. The 2-1/2 inch diameter cast iron drain pipe was uncovered in Unit 59. Although the pipe was broken, the hand-dug trench extended into the west wall of Unit 59, underneath the first addition to the house. Although speculative, this addition might have been the location of a kitchen. Unfortunately, the trench contained no diagnostic artifacts that might serve to date the line further. If both cast iron lines are extrapolated beyond their excavated extents, the 2-1/2 inch line ties into the 5-inch line at a 45-degree angle (the standard angle for drain pipes) at approximately N498.5 E541.

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The additions to both houses resulted in a re-arrangement of backyard space and consequently, a change in the spatial distribution of activity areas and landscape features. The three most obvious change are, of course, no longer needing to run to the backyard to use the toilet (or emptying a chamber pot in the morning), no more privy structure taking up space in the backyard, and no longer needing to gather water from the well. But other changes are not so obvious. The first change resulted from the appropriation of back porch space at 1403 Richland Street for a bathroom. With this spatial appropriation came a movement of the backstairs leading off the porch. These back stairs, extending north and just east of the center of the porch, would have terminated in close proximity to the southwest corner of the first-generation outbuilding constructed sometime between 1910 and 1919 (see Figure 2-4A). We know that this building is in place during 1919, as evidenced by its depiction on the 1919 Sanborn map, and therefore that its movement/replacement eight-feet to the north occurred sometime after this date. Unfortunately, the postholes/molds associated with this building uncovered in Unit 19 do not offer a more refined construction date. The close proximity of the stairs to the outbuilding suggests a reason for its movement north, while the disuse of the privy during the first few years of the 1920s at the latest suggests when it was moved, i.e. when the bathroom was added. The location chosen for this second generation outbuilding is related to our second change in backyard spatial arrangementâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the first addition to the house at 1904 Marion Street. As discussed above, this addition was in place by 1904, as evidenced by the Sanborn map of that year. As seen in Figure 2-4A, the northern wall of the second 285

generation outbuilding is directly in-line with the northern extent of the addition to the 1904 Marion Street house, suggesting that the outbuilding was built in reference to the house. The two postholes/molds associated with this second Figure 4-7. Planview of Block 1, illustrating the proximity of Feature 29E (red arrow) to the house at 1904 Marion Street.

generation outbuilding uncovered in Blocks 1 and 2 do not offer any help in

determining when it was built. The outcome of moving the outbuilding is an opening-up of space around the staircase and consequently, changes in foot-traffic patterns and lines of movement. An additional change in spatial rearrangement came with the second addition to the 1904 Marion Street house, associated with the 5-inch cast iron wastewater pipe terminating within the southeast corner. This second addition to the house, roughly 207 square-feet, altered the backyard space available for activities, most notably, disposal practices and outdoor fires used for cooking and/or laundry. Although the site is remarkably intact given the destruction of everything but the house at 1403 Richland 286

Street by the Columbia Housing Authority during the 1970s, the top-most surface of the site was highly disturbed, the result of grading activities to produce a level surface for a lawn and parking lot. The result is the loss of most features not extending below-ground more than a few inches, like charcoal stains. But even with such heavy surface disturbance, one surface feature survived and offers a clue to changing activity spaces. Feature 29E was a charcoal stain uncovered in Block 1 (Figure 4-7), the remains of an outdoor fire. While no date is attributable to the feature, given that it is only inches east of the second addition to the 1904 Marion Street house, it is reasonable to assume it was created prior to the addition, since having an open fire inches away from a wooden structure seems particularly hazardous. Although speculative, what this finding suggests is that activities like outdoor cooking and/or laundry took place in different parts of the backyard following the addition(s) to the house 1904 Marion Street house. This is a simple observation that would not normally require discussion, except that this relocation of outdoor fire spaces is the product of, in part, discourses of health and sanitation as materialized in sewerage lines. The locations of these activities are not understandable simply through an appeal to occupant behavior or noting the addition. Disposal practices were also altered. The second-largest trash pit uncovered at the site is the Feature 31C-Complex, discussed in Chapter 2. Created sometime during the 1890s, the pit was intruded upon by a brick pier associated with the first addition to the 1904 Marion Street house. Therefore, the trash pit was created while the house at 1904 Marion Street was still a shotgun-style structure. At first, this seems obvious and not worth commenting uponâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;after all, if there is a building occupying an area then it can 287

not be used for trash disposal. But, when placed within a pattern of consequences resulting from the seemingly simple introduction of plumbing on at the site, the outcome is more complicated. Understanding how discourses of health and sanitation materialized at the site is a surprising precursor to understanding subsequent activities in the backyard not related to privies or plumbing, like the distribution of trash pits or changes in where outdoor cooking or laundry activities took place. These findings illustrate how spatial practices take place within spaces generated by previous activities, which themselves were rooted within myriad intersecting discourses (Schein 1997). That discourses of health and sanitation materialize is not unique. What is unique is the particular expression of these production-level discourses at the site-level, and, of course, the practices and routines such changing material expressions engenderedâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the subject of Chapter 5.

THE LUNCH COUNTER From 1891 to 1909, John L. Simons, son of Agnes Jackson and Bill Simons, operated a small 13 x 13-foot lunch counter on the corner of Richland and Marion Streets (see Figure 2-5). Born in 1859, John was 32 when he opened the counter. In the city directories the business was variously described as a 'grocery,' a 'restaurant,' a 'lunch room,' and a 'confectionery.' Built flush with the south and west property lines, the building had a brick foundation along the front and post-in-ground construction along the sides and rear, in the same style as the grocery at 1407 Richland Street. Archaeology suggests that in 1909, the lunch counter caught fire (see Chapter 2). Not enough to burn it to the ground, but enough to require rebuilding and refurnishing. Since John had 288

moved from 1904 Marion to 1912 Marion Street in 1909, he seemingly decided to rebuild his lunch counter next to his new house at 1914 Marion Street, depicted on the 1910 Sanborn map (see Figure 3-18). Following the fire, a large pit was dug behind the structure, the un-salvageable or non-useful contents of the counter were dumped in (3,748 artifacts representing a minimum of 1,062 objects were recovered from the west half excavated), the pit was capped with sandy clay (subsoil), and new topsoil laid down. The outcome of this event is a snapshot of the lunch counter as it existed in its entirety on the day it caught fire—structurally and operationally. While significance for the lunch counter clearly can be found by simply noting its existence – an African American-owned backyard commercial space in Columbia during the development of Jim Crow-era segregation – understanding discourses of health helps with understanding why specific artifacts – in those specific forms or composed of those materials – were present at the lunch counter at that point in time and why these objects were even available as commodity choices. Of the artifacts recovered from the lunch counter trash pit conceived of or promoted in terms of health, but already discussed in previous sections, included bright green and brown spotted or ‘blotchy’ tiles produced by the Trent Tile Company, of Trenton, New Jersey, between 1882 and 1909 (Lehner 1988), straight-lined, wrap-around industrial porcelain fixtures, linoleum flooring, plumbing, and electric lights. But other artifacts were also products of health and sanitation concerns, including single-cast cutlery. For the same reasons straight-lines and wrap-around fixtures were thought to create fewer spaces for dirt to accumulate and thus be easier to clean, so too were single289

cast cutlery (Lupton and Miller 1992). Of the nine utensils recovered (one fork, four knives, and four spoons), six were single-cast (one fork, one knife, and four spoons). The lunch counter had a gas range, as evidenced by a gas-distribution fitting. Gas was promoted as a cleaner, healthier alternative to wood and coal stoves, particularly in terms of air quality and more consistent air temperature in the kitchen. In Making Homes, Hazel Shultz (1931:86) writes,

To overheat at one time or in one part of the house and suddenly underheat at another is bad both from the economic and the hygienic point of view, for it means wasting and skimping as well as discomfort.

In The Healthful House, the authors write,

Nowhere has the inventive genius served the housewife to better advantage than in the matter of stoves. Gone is the necessity of working all day in a room rendered unbearably hot by a wood or coal range. Gas and electricity have changed all that â&#x20AC;Ś [Gas and electric stoves] obviate most of the discomforts and sufferings that we used to associate with work in a super-heated kitchen (Robertson and O'Donnell 1917:162).

The importance of emotional health, from a discursive perspective, also found materialization at the lunch counter. The interior walls of the counter were brightly painted in bold red and yellow (see Figure 2-21), which, when combined with the bright green tiles, must have made the counter a very colorful place. Bright colors were thought to promote a greater sense of wellbeing, as the authors of The Healthful House explain:

What we should do is to take lessons from the restful, soothing effect which the fields and seaside have on us, and so far as possible bring indoors some of the

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outdoor spirit (pp. 15) … The general belief is that it is a vulgar taste that cares for a free use of “loud” colors, and so the majority of our homes are furnished in dull browns and grays … This fear of color is all the more astonishing when we recall that Nature is lavish with color (pp. 26-27).

By the end of the 1930s, stoves of gas or electricity, colorful kitchen appliances, and, with the development of ever-new plastics, single-cast everything were simply part of the modern household. The presence of these diverse artifacts in those particular forms at the lunch counter in no way suggests motivation for their choice by the Mann-Simons family, but discourses of health do partially explain why these products were even market choices to begin with; how, for example, brightly-painted red and yellow walls are related to electric lights and bottle closures, and why such commodity forms – as a real-world snapshot of the larger commodity environment – were not found in earlier deposits. As this section on health and sanitation has demonstrated, there is more to understanding the everchanging commodity environment than simply understanding when an item was invented or came to market, or attributing, for example, changes in plain versus brightly decorated interiors solely in terms of occupant choice or a vague idea of 'popular style.' Such analyses ignore the impact materializations of myriad discourses had on the commodity variation available to consumers. This includes the materials of which materials were made, the subject of the next section.

THE MATERIALS OF MATERIAL CULTURE On the first page of the 1941 book Plastics by Victor E. Yarsley and E. G. Couzens, the authors suggest that “the possible applications [of plastics] are almost 291

inexhaustible.” The final chapter of their book anticipates the ways in which plastics will influence the life of someone born 70 years later – appropriately enough, in 2011 – with the fictional story of “Plastic Man.” Plastic Man lives in a shiny and shimmering (and quite hygienic) world of plastic.

This plastic man will come into a world of colour and bright shining surfaces where childish hands find nothing to break, no sharp edges, or corners to cut or graze, no crevices to harbour dirt or germs.... The walls of his nursery, his bath… all his toys, his cot, the moulded light perambulator in which he takes the air, the teething ring he bites, the unbreakable bottle he feeds from [are all plastic]. As he grows he cleans his teeth and brushes his hair with plastic brushes, clothes himself within plastic clothes, writes his first lesson with a plastic pen and does his lessons in a book bound with plastic. The windows of his school curtained with plastic cloth entirely grease- and dirt-proof… and the frames, like those of his house are of moulded plastic, light and easy to open never requiring any paint (Yarsley & Couzens 1941:149).

The story continues with the use of plastics for furniture and interior design, for beauty and leisure, for industry and transportation. Until in old age, Plastic Man “wears a denture with silent plastic teeth and spectacles with plastic lenses … until at last he sinks into his grave in a hygienically enclosed plastic coffin” (Yarsley and Couzens 1941:152). Plastics and other materials captured public, industrial, and scientific imaginations. The characteristics of these materials reflect and embody the time and place in which they were made and an imagined future in which they might be used (Shove, et al. 2007:97). Thomas Edison wrote in 1900: “We ought to be ashamed to think that invention has been exhausted with the telegraph, telephone, steam engine, dynamo and camera. The next century should go as far beyond 1900 as 1900 is in advance of 1800” (quoted in Hanson 1900:223). Unlike the object-based inventions 292

identified by Edison, the invention and application of new materials became one of the greatest “advances” of the last century. Like Plastic Man, the images and ideas of newly invented materials, or new applications for existing materials, became in many respects more important than the objects themselves. An argument for the importance of understanding the relationship between objects and the materials of which those objects are made is certainly not new. Archaeologists working in prehistoric contexts have been doing such analyses all along. Rock, ceramic, animals, and plant fibers – the major materials of which objects were made – are all specializations within prehistoric archaeology. Archaeologists are concerned with such materials because their adaptation for new uses is often implicated in large socio-cultural changes, like the evolution of Homo habilis and the making of stone tools 2.4 million years ago, or the use of bone fish hooks 60 thousand years ago. Although the range of sources from which I and other archaeologists of the recent past have available to draw from is greater (and very different) than those prehistorians have available, the objective of the analysis is the same—understanding the ways in which materials are integral parts of people's everyday lives. The only difference in arguing for the importance of material composition is a shift from prehistoric to historic contexts. There is no reason to believe that just because the context here is more similar to our own, that somehow material composition is less important or irrelevant—despite the lack of such analyses in historical archeology. In the following discussion, I explore the relationship between objects and the 'stuff' of which they were made in two steps. First, I look at the archaeology and see 293

what material-temporal patterns emerge across object types. This is a chance to see how materials were actually being used in/for objects that were actually consumed, and not what was potentially available. Second, I explore how these materials were discussed from the vantage points of manufacturers, retailers, designers, and advice columnists in popular magazines and books. In doing so, we see how, on one hand, the meanings of materials and objects co-shaped each other over time from a top-down perspective and why it is important to understand the social histories of not just objects, but also the materials of which objects are made. But, on the other hand, we also see that while materials did capture imaginations, such excitement did not always materialize in the everyday commodities people consumedâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;at least, not within the industries and objects one would expect, as the following analysis of buttons illustrates.

BUTTONS Buttons are common artifacts on archaeological sites of the recent past because they preserve well and everybody possessed them through their clothing. And they are common artifacts for analysis because they came in a multitude of styles reflective of the types of clothing people were wearing, and since cloth is rarely recovered from archaeological contexts, buttons and other clothing hardware are often the only indicators we have of how people were dressing. Buttons are also interesting items from a curation or behavior perspective. Unlike most items archaeologists recover, buttons do not often break (a prime reason something is thrown away, and hence, why we find it) and many people save buttons for a perceived future use. A small container of buttons (or buttons

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placed in the same drawer, in my case) is a common artifact in the homes of many people. Given these attributes, the button assemblage from Mann-Simons is a remarkable collection of artifacts from which to interpret. A minimum of 120 buttons were recovered from the seven proveniences examined here, summarized in Table 4-2. The time period represented by these proveniences spans the 1880s to circa 1920â&#x20AC;&#x201D;nearly 40years of button production and consumption. Given the large number of buttons actually recovered, and the highly-curated nature of buttons, we can assume that this assemblage is a representative sample of the button world in terms of what was actually massproduced and consumed from a site-level perspective. And what this perspective allows for is a chance to move away from analyses of style or form to see how discourses surrounding material composition materialized in the objects people consumed and how a surprising change in a completely unrelated industry affected the materials of which buttons were made. First, a brief overview of materials used in the manufacturing of buttons. This is not a history buttons, nor even a history of the button industry in the United States. The purpose here is to understand what materials mass-produced buttons were made of during the late nineteenth and early twentieth century and when these materials and manufacturing techniques were introduced and/or phased out. The most common button materials of this period were bone, shell, various metals (ferrous alloys, copper, brass), glass, ceramic (primarily dry-pressed, also known as proser or â&#x20AC;&#x153;chinaâ&#x20AC;?), rubber/guttapercha, and plastic. 295

In their book Buttons, Diana Epstein and Millicent Safro (1991) present a representative overview of button manufacturing for each century as an aid for the collector. For the nineteenth century, they write,

As new, less time-consuming methods replaced the artisan production of the eighteenth century, the hierarchy of materials shifted … [cloth buttons were] more generally available than ever before … Metal remained a staple ingredient in button-making, in part because it lent itself so readily to mass production … The humble appearance of the china [proser] button belies the significance of the technological development that gave rise to its existence … [Horn] entered the utilitarian button market in the mid-nineteenth century only as a result of a method of commercial processing that allowed every bit of the horn to be powdered, compressed, and heated in molds. Similarly, shell buttons … were produced in large quantities using machine methods from mid-century on … Celluloid, the first of the synthetic plastics, was used first as a substitute for glass on lithograph buttons in the 1870s and then as a primary structural material, made to imitate ivory, horn, tortoiseshell, marble, and even coral and jade … Bakelite, invented in 1907, had, by the early 1930s, almost completely replaced all other [materials] (69-135).

Rubber and gutta-percha – semi-synthetic materials and the forerunners of plastic – captured people's imaginations in the same way plastics would soon come to do. An entire chapter of the 1900 book Wonders of the Nineteenth Century: A Panoramic Review of the Inventions and Discoveries of the Past Hundred Years (Hanson 1900) is devoted to rubber and gutta-percha. In the chapter are “The Thousand and One Uses” of rubber— uses ranging from buttons and rain coats to tires and life jackets. From a reading of period texts, as well as what collectors have written – the two primary sources of information available to archaeologists concerning the identification and temporal-spatial distribution of buttons – the expected general pattern of button materials for our time period would be the following: (1) during the late nineteenth century, the majority of buttons would be made of bone, shell, prosser, glass, and various 296

metals; (2) by the turn-of-the-twentieth century and into the century's first decade, the same materials would be found, with the addition of hard rubber/gutta-percha and celluloid, likely designed to mimic more expensive materials like tortoise shell; (3) beginning in the first decade of the twentieth century, bone would disappear, prosser and glass would continue in the same proportion, metal would continue to be used for garments like work and fancy clothing, with Bakelite becoming more common. This pattern was not found at the Mann-Simons site. As Table 4-2 illustrates, of the 120 buttons recovered, only one was of hard rubber and none were of plastic, either celluloid or Bakelite. Bone remained fairly constant, as did shell. Metal buttons were found in every deposit, while glass buttons were only found in two. Prosser was by far the most abundant material, representing half of the entire assemblage and, with the exception of Feature 12T (where shell was dominant) and Stratum 11J (where only one button was found), represented the material-type majority in each deposit, with 43% in 11D, 53% in 31C, 67% in 34C, 77% in 49J, 30% in 12T, and 41% in 39J. If Features 34C, 49J and 12T are taken together â&#x20AC;&#x201C; all features created between 1907 and 1909, prosser represents 53% (40/76) of button materials during the first decade of the twentieth century. Put another way, the manufacturing and promotion of plastic, rubber and guttapercha buttons during the late nineteenth and early twentieth century had no appreciable effect on the actual materials used to make the buttons consumed by the Mann-Simons family, despite the prominence of these new materials in period and collector literature. Instead, what the Mann-Simons site is telling us is that prosser, a material-manufacturing 297

technique developed in 1840 or 1842 (Sprague 2002), actually came to dominate button materials at exactly the time period we would expect plastic and rubber to start competing against prosser. What is the reason for this pattern? The reason: the nation-wide spread of home electricity. Not electricity in manufacturing, but electricity in homes across the nation. What is the connection between home electricity and the materials of which buttons are made? None, if the scale of analysis is confined to the site and explanations for temporal-spatial patterns in artifacts recovered are found strictly in terms of occupant behaviors or ideas of consumer choices. But the connection is apparent by examining production-level discourses surrounding materials independent of industry-type or object-class. The fire insurance industry also played a part in what buttons were made of. The ability to make an explanatory connection between buttons, electricity, and fire insurance is owed to Jack H. Tod, who self-published the book A History of the Electrical Porcelain Industry in the United States in 1977. On his book – the only one of its kind – Tod writes, “This book was born out of curiosity – a curiosity that started out modestly, but which grew to the point of being nearly an obsession” (1977:3). The incredibly-detailed history of the electrical porcelain industry – no company was too small to research – that resulted from his curiosity-turned-obsession provides the understanding of the wider ceramics industry – not just the companies producing tablewares found in most archaeological texts – needed for understanding why prosser buttons came to dominate. I imagine Tod never thought his work would be used in this way.

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The electrification of homes in America was introduced earlier in this chapter under the header of “Health and Sanitation,” so I will confine my discussion here to the rise in manufacturing of electrical porcelain associated with the spread of home electricity. Although the beginning of home electricity is usually marked by Edison's invention of the incandescent light bulb in 1881, a better date is 1886—when the first alternating current power system was installed in Great Barrington, Massachusetts. Unlike the Edison system, which used direct current at 1,300 volts from power generator to home, the alternating current system developed by Nikola Tesla allowed for the stepping-down of voltage levels by way of transformers before entering the home. An electrical shock from a 1,300 volt source is almost certain death. Without the invention of alternating current, wide-spread home electrification would not have occurred. With safer power came the spread of home electrification. And with home electrification came the need to run wires throughout a house. The earliest insulators were made of wood—the same indoor insulators that were used for telegraph and terminal wires. And while wood is a good electrical insulator, as long as it is reasonably dry, it is not a good heat insulator. Many of the early electrical systems were ungrounded, and while they were extensively fused in case of short circuit, the fuses were open fuse wires which were often replaced with regular wire over time (the drop-in cartridge fuses we are familiar with today were not invented until much later). When a short circuit did occur, the wires would become white hot—the wood insulators would catch fire and the house would burn. So many houses burned down, that by 1891, fire insurance companies demanded electrical insulators be made of ceramic. The electrical 299

porcelain industry was born overnight. In 1894, the National Board of Fire Underwriters founded the Underwriters' Laboratories, Inc. (UL) to formulate safety standards, and in conjunction with engineering organizations, published the first National Electrical Code in 1897. The earliest electrical porcelain insulator producers were companies already manufacturing traditional ceramic goods, companies familiar to historical archaeologists through their production of tablewares. For instance, Cook Pottery Company (Trenton, NJ), Hall China Company (East Liverpool, OH), and Trenton China Company (Trenton, NJ), all produced electrical insulators. But with the explosion of home electrification and the requirement to use ceramic insulators, many others got into the game. Tod was able to verify 87 different companies were actively manufacturing ceramic insulators. These ranged from huge operations like those of General Electric (the company Thomas Edison founded) to small companies with only a few employees. The vast majority of companies were producing dry-pressed ceramic insulatorsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the same dry-press process used to make prosser buttons. Tod (1977:65-66) explains the dry-press process:

[The clay is] dried to a 12% moisture content and is then granulated for use in the dry process. Dry process porcelain items are made in very simple screw press setups. The dies are mounted with the top opening flush with a table surface, and a screw-press ram is operated directly above the dies. A supply of the clay granules is fed to the working surface. The operator simply pulls a quantity of the granules over the die opening, strikes off the excess flush with the top of the die and operates the press ram to form the insulator.

The insulators are then placed in a kiln to be fired, with a glaze added prior if necessary. The operation is very simple. To make a different object, one need only a different die. 300

Many companies producing insulators started to manufacture other dry-press ceramic items requiring simple dies—including buttons. The spread of home electrification and the actions of the National Board of Fire Underwriters during the 1890s created a boom in the electrical porcelain industry. The vast majority of companies producing insulators employed the dry-press process. Once established, many of these companies not only started manufacturing prosser buttons, but sanitary wares as well. Regardless of how period texts and collectors discuss the materials of which buttons were manufactured, the actual pattern of button materials – prosser dominating material-type at exactly the time period we would have expected plastic and rubber to start occurring in greater numbers – is a materialization of all the intersecting discourses surrounding home electrification and the fire insurance industry. That prosser buttons virtually disappeared from the market by the 1940s (Sprague 2002) might also be explained partially with reference to electricity. The vast majority of electrical insulator companies went out of business during the 1930s as a result of the Great Depression (Tod 1977). It is also during the 1930s that the DuPont family, having become mega-rich by supplying gunpowder to allied countries during World War I, diversified and entered the plastics business (Meikle 1995). These two events seemingly came together to alter the materials of which buttons were made—although to verify this, as we know from this discussion, we would first need to understand what patterns are suggested by archaeology. Regardless, that patterns of button material composition are related to home electricity illustrates the fallacy of attributing the presence of commodity

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types in terms of just consumer choice and preference—even when using what people were writing about materials at a given time as context.

BODY CARE AND GROOMING Objects designed for body care and grooming – combs, hair clips, toothbrushes and the like – are and were made from a variety of materials. Bone, horn, ceramics, wood, metals, and plastics were all materials used in their manufacturing before and after the turn of the twentieth century. But unlike buttons – an object type that falls within the same functional analytical category of 'Personal,' a quick cautionary pointer to too much reliance on functional categories for determination of social significance – the materials used to manufacture objects used to care for (and not just adorn) the body reveal a completely different pattern. Home electrification did not affect the body care and grooming industry. Instead, what we see is almost what we would expect from an understanding of how plastics captured industrial and popular imaginations as presented in period and collector texts. That is, the expectation is more-and-more of the objects recovered would be made of plastic. Again, this is almost what we see. Four objects made of plastic were recovered from the same proveniences examined in the button analysis. From the Feature 34C-Complex were recovered fragments of two hair combs made of Bakelite. Recall that the 34C-Complex was a trash pit with a TPQ date of 1907, and was likely created sometime shortly thereafter. Recall also that Bakelite is a plastic that made its commercial debut in 1907. From the Feature 49J-Complex, a trash pit created in either 1908 or 1909, was recovered three fragments of a celluloid hair clip in a tortoise shell design. From the privy deposit, the Feature 39J302

Complex created sometime between 1915 and 1920, was recovered a toothbrush made of Pyralin, Dupont's brand of celluloid. These four items represent the entirety of the plastic assemblage for the period circa 1880-1920. Of all the objects recovered from the site for this period – a minimum of 3,926 objects – the only ones made of plastic were designed for body care and grooming. Combs, clips, and toothbrushes certainly predate the invention of plastic, and as was mentioned at the start of this section, were made from a variety of materials, like the two bone toothbrushes recovered from the Feature 49J-Complex. Objects made of plastic were objects that already existed, and they performed the same function in exactly the same way as their counterparts made of other materials. In other words, there was no advantage to the user in terms of performing the object's intended function better or more effectively when made of plastic and not a preexisting material. Not even manufacturers and advertisers claimed plastic combs and toothbrushes performed any better than their bone, horn, and metal counterparts. Instead, promotion was in terms of material composition—that was the selling point. In a 1930 book by Pauline Beery entitled Stuff: The Story of Materials in the Service of Man, she writes on plastic: “by placing artificial products on the market at very low prices, [the chemist had] already done more than any other single agency toward making a democracy of all the peoples of the world” (in Meikle 1995:71). Our Democracy of Goods in another form. In his history of plastics, Meikle (1995:70) notes the themes popular journalists frequently used for synthetic materials—“the magic of chemistry, the creation of something from nothing, the democratization of everyday life, 303

the triumph of the artificial over the natural, and the engineering of social stability.” We cannot verify if this excitement and sense of possibilities took root in minds and lives of consumers. We do know how these materials were presented to consumers, and from archaeology, we know what one emerging middle-class family actually did consume. None of these findings suggest motivations for the consumption of plastic on the part of the Mann-Simons family, but it does suggest how plastic in those object forms at that particular time is a materialization of discourses surrounding the beginnings of “the plastic age” and, importantly, when seen in tandem with the results of the button analysis, how plastic made its first steps into the home from the perspective of the actual materials a middle-income family really did buy, use, and discard as a part of daily life.

CONCLUSION In Spatial Analysis in Archaeology, Ian Hodder and Clive Orton (1976:8) note that “One difficulty [in understanding the distribution of artifacts] … is that of inferring process from form. One spatial pattern may be produced by a variety of different spatial processes and it must be part of the task to determine the possible range of the variety.” In this chapter, we saw how the spatial and temporal patterns of commodities like buttons and hair combs at one particular archaeological site partially resulted from productionlevel processes understood through discourses of health/sanitation and material composition. We also saw how the use of the commodity flow model, although unpopular in the post-processual world of today, is an effective means of identifying possible alternate market interactions. 304

In both cases, we saw how objects functioned as commodities. Recall Appadurai's understanding of a commodity as a thing in a particular situation that can be disaggregated into commodity phase, candidacy, and context. The analyses in this chapter illustrate how a top-down, production-only focus predefines an object's commodity phase (the potential of a thing to move in and out of 'commodity-hood'), since such a focus only examines objects that are coming into existence to be sold—DuPont made Pyralin toothbrushes for only one reason. While commodity phase is rather static with this focus, candidacy (the criteria used to define exchangeability in a particular social/historical context) is more interesting, particularly the commodity candidacy of the 'stuff' of which things are made. Plastics have a long history, but their commodification in terms of everyday objects is much shorter and highly restricted. The agreed upon standards of value by producer and consumer – exchange of money for plastic 'things' – initially only happened in the realm of body care and grooming. Commodity context (the social arenas within which a thing's candidacy is linked to its phase) often has nothing to do with consumers, as the connections between the button industry, home electrification, and fire insurance illustrates well. Thus, by not relying solely on site-occupant behavior for explanation of artifact patterns, we have a greater understanding of not only the range of goods within which consumer choice took place and why such range existed, but also how seemingly unrelated objects are connected at different scales—how objects become associated and disassociated through different discourses. But a production-oriented focus specific to time periods, places, and social processes is only the first step towards developing 305

multiple, parallel histories in terms of lived experiences. The second step is consumptionâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;understanding how assemblages of artifacts are related in terms of the behaviors and routines of the family and how these assemblages acted as mediators of practice. This is the focus of the next chapter and subject of our second story.

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CHAPTER 5 A STORY OF CONSUMPTION Mama thrived on heavy Women heavy with babies A house heavy with people And hands heavy with work: Tightly tailored seams Carved bed posts And the tacking of our market We even slept heavy Two rooms filled with sleeping brown So Mama's parlor could rest its walls We even walked heavy To make our presence known Heavy with the word of God and Mama's pride Three of us walked our heavy selves right out of the south who knows what we lost on that trip but the one left behind collected what was left overfed herself on “useta be's” and eased Mama on to glory heavy with a daughter's love —R. Heath, The Pace of Things (2006)

What I want to tell you, ladies and gentlemen, that there's not enough troops in the army to break down segregation and admit the nigger race into our theaters, into our swimming pools, into our homes and into our churches. —Strom Thurmond, 46 year senator of SC, in a 1948 presidential campaign speech

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There are a lot of people in America today still trying to buy a new world with old Confederate bills … It is just possible that old answers which seemed “true” in the tight, rigid frame of the southern past are based on assumptions that are no longer valid. It is just possible that the white man is no longer the center of the universe. —Lillian Smith (1942)

Karl Marx wrote, “Men make their own history but not of their own free will; not under circumstances they themselves have chosen but under the given and inherited circumstances with which they are directly confronted” (in Fernbach 173:146). He may as well have been describing the American South. The problematic nature of social relations in Columbia, and the South in general, were indeed structural, centered on issues of entitlement, cultural citizenship, and structural violence—often played out through the material world in the form of commodities. As Grace Elizabeth Hale (1998:123) notes, “the multiplying spaces of consumption within the growing towns and cities of the... South became key sites for the white Southern creation of and African American resistance to the culture of segregation.” Mann-Simons is part of this larger pattern of power, control and materiality in Southern history; a historical pattern that can be viewed from two contemporary vantage points—as subjugation, or as self-determination. Both existed, and both defined each other. The choice of perspective is, on one hand, dependent upon what the site suggests – the types of artifacts recovered, degrees of preservation, the type of site, and so on – but on the other hand, perspective is dependent upon what the archaeologist wants the focus to be. Analyses are very self-conscious narrative creations that define and redefine what “the past” was/is. My choice is to focus upon self-determination within the culture of

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subjugation that existed in the South from the end of Reconstruction, roughly the late 1870s, to the late 1920s, just before the Great Depression. I do so for two reasons: first, the vast majority of artifacts recovered were deposited during this period, and second, stories of self-determination – success stories – are somewhat rare but much needed in scholarly literature, particularly in archaeology. To rephrase Marx as my question, I ask: what history did the Mann-Simons family make for themselves within the circumstances they inherited? To begin: a brief introduction to the development of their circumstances. To understand this development is to understand that South Carolina has always been, and continues to be, a 'culture of classification' (Joseph 1993). Classification is/was social, but classificatory discourses have/had material components. As the following discussion makes clear, it was a co-evolutionary process, material and social, each informing and shaping the other. Joe Joseph (1993) provides a concise overview of changing Southern classification and social categorization in South Carolina and Georgia from the early eighteenth century to the mid-nineteenth century, and is the basis of the following discussion for that time period. Picking up where Joseph left off, I bring the discussion to the early twentieth century. During the early eighteenth century, plantations dominated South Carolina, socially and economically. And not surprisingly, social categorization was defined by race. This is a period characterized by great material differences between black and white, but also a time with few legal distinctions—well, except that one person could own another. Material differences are found in quantities of items, but more significantly, difference was in terms of types of materials – wattle-and-daub dwellings

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versus frame construction or Colonoware, a coarse earthenware vessel type, versus English ceramics, for instance – that visually and symbolically differentiated black slaves from white planters. Starting in the early nineteenth century and continuing through the mid-nineteenth century, was a lessening of differences between black and white in terms of material possession types. This change is coupled with a radical increase in the number of legal distinctions and controls on behavior placed upon enslaved and free African Americans. Slave houses were increasingly of frame construction, arranged along “streets,” and rested on brick piers; Colonoware production decreased while English and American produced ceramic dishes became common. In no way do I mean to imply that these material changes in any way altered social status or threatened the established hierarchy. Quite the contrary. I am simply making the observation that as material culture came to share more commonalities in terms of types – as difference decreased – there was an increase in legal differentiation. This is an important correlation to note, because at the end of the the Civil War, the South was left with this material commonality, but the legal distinctions were wiped away (in theory if not practice). Reconstruction had begun. In South Carolina, 124 delegates (67 of which were African American) wrote a new state constitution in January, 1867, granting suffrage rights to African Americans. Two months later, resistance on the part of white South Carolinians was great enough that the U.S. Congress abolished the state's government. By April 1870, African Americans had succeeded in holding the majority of all Richland County and Columbia City offices. But seemingly, not all white South Carolinians were overly worried. “We can control and direct the Negroes,” wrote South Carolina planter Wade Hampton in 1867, one of the wealthiest individuals in

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America, “if we act discreetly, and in my judgment the highest duty of every Southern man is to secure the good will and confidence of the Negro. Our future depends on this” (in Moore 1993:219). Hampton's efforts to control the African American vote failed, but political control was quickly returned to white Southerners just 20 years later, when President Hayes kept his campaign promise to remove federal troops from the South and adopt a hands-off policy if he were elected. On 1 May, 1887, he made the order and Reconstruction ended. Post-Reconstruction was a time of African American disenfranchisement through official and unofficial discrimination. Prevalent racist thought in the South is evidenced in the way some white historians wrote about the end of Reconstruction. “After the desolation of the war, interest in art naturally suffered for some years,” wrote historian Harriet M. Salley of Columbia in 1936, “but with the restoration of white control, the indomitable spirit of Columbians soon asserted itself and gradually there was a revival of interest in” art and music (Salley 1936:186, emphasis added). W.B. Nash, a prominent African American member of the South Carolina Republican party, observed that Reconstruction and military rule in South Carolina had little effect on dominant white ideology—white Southerns were “not conquered—not changed” (in Moore 1993:253). Recall from Chapter 1 that this period of post-Reconstruction also marks the nation-wide acceleration of consumerism and the beginnings of a national culture of consumption. As the variety and availability of consumer goods increased throughout the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, so too did the opportunities for more people to consume a greater variety of goods in ever greater quantities. The commonality of the material world was increasing at an exponential rate—an acceleration of the pattern

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already noted. In the American South, this Democracy of Goods, this new social potential â&#x20AC;&#x201C; part reality, part fantasy â&#x20AC;&#x201C; threatened to further erode the markers of social hierarchy and blur racialized boundaries. Completely ignoring the Civil Rights Act of 1875 (the 'separate-but-equal' act) and upheld by the US Supreme Court, the reaction in the South was a tidal wave of ever-more restrictive 'Jim Crow' laws designed to restrict freedom of movement and curtail access to goods and services. All of these laws had a basis in the material world, designed to limit African American entitlements to schools, public facilities, public transportation, voting, employment, and free association. Beyond formal laws was the 'etiquette' of Jim Crow. David Pilgrim (2000) lists some of these rules of etiquette:

Blacks and Whites were not supposed to eat together. If they did eat together, Whites were to be served first, and some sort of partition was to be placed between them.

Under no circumstance was a Black male to offer to light the cigarette of a White female -- that gesture implied intimacy.

Blacks were not allowed to show public affection toward one another in public, especially kissing, because it offended Whites.

Jim Crow etiquette prescribed that Blacks were introduced to Whites, never Whites to Blacks. For example: "Mr. Peters (the White person), this is Charlie (the Black person), that I spoke to you about."

Whites did not use courtesy titles of respect when referring to Blacks, for example, Mr., Mrs., Miss., Sir, or Ma'am. Instead, Blacks were called by their first names. Blacks had to use

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Figure 5-1. Circa 1888 advertisement for Rising Sun Stove Polish. “I say Snow Flake, dat stove was blacked with Rising Sun. Did you eber see de like?” Marketers commonly promoted products and services during the late nineteenth and early twentieth century by featuring African Americans with exaggerated physical features, ridiculous clothes, and speaking in dialect. courtesy titles when referring to Whites, and were not allowed to call them by their first names. f.

If a Black person rode in a car driven by a White person, the Black person sat in the back seat, or the back of a truck.

White motorists had the right-of-way at all intersections.

This new form of regional social segregation came about through a co-evolutionary process with the advent of a national Democracy of Goods—a commodities-based potential the family took advantage of through their ownership of multiple properties, efficient participation in small business, manners of dress, and increasingly visible access to the world of consumer goods.

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Consumer space became a site of uneasy contention because at the same time white Southerners proclaimed their superiority over African Americans, these same white business owners needed African American customers. This contention between white oppression and African American aspiration was a dominate discourse materialized in advertising. African Americans were more often than not the objects, and not the subjects, of consumer desire (Hale 1998). By the early twentieth century, the goal of advertising had shifted from a means of providing product information to an attempt to influence buyers (Strasser 1989). On regional and national scales, the advertising industry presented product advertisements that blatantly caricaturized, demeaned, and disrespected African Americans (Weems 1998). Products were marketed with names that included such derogatory terms as “mammy,” “pickaninny,” “coon,” and “nigger” (Weems 1998). Advertisements commonly featured African Americans with exaggerated physical features, ridiculous clothes, and speaking in dialect (Figure 5-1). Marketers often portrayed African Americans in subservient positions and ridiculed African Americans with social aspirations – in other words, for doing what everyone one else was doing – as mimicking Whites or misusing technology (Figure 5-2) (Hale 1998). Although this disregard for human sensibilities did not extend to all products and companies – Kellogg’s, for example, began an aggressive campaign in the 1930s to attract more consumers to Corn Flakes by widely advertising in African American newspapers and periodicals (Weems 1998)—by and large, however, advertisers had turned the stereotype of African America into a commodity to sell other commodities.

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Although marketers attempted to reach a broad cross-section of American society through advertising, most Americans at the turn-of-the-twentieth century still bought unlabeled goods such as sugar, flour, salt, soap and vinegar from bulk containers at local stores (Strasser 1989). African Americans were routinely subjected to second-class treatment in retail establishments. But the rise of a mass market, and the shopping options it afforded, changed the nature of the Figure 5-2. Example of a circa 1900 placement card depicting the comic mocking of African Americans. These types of cards were placed in a variety of massmarketed goods during the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. African Americans were often portrayed as mimicking white people or misusing technology.

relationship between consumer and retailer. With a national market came a greater separation between consumer and retailer that facilitated an individuality and identity often not available from local

stores. While consumer space was never free from racial bias, African Americans and other marginalized groups were able to employ various consumption strategies that undermined the white populationâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s claim to the privileges of citizenship (Mullins 1999). The national mass-market brought with it branded goods, a one-price principle, mail-order retailers, and chain stores (Strasser 1989). Brand-name goods were often used by African Americans as a social negotiation strategy (Mullins 1999). By linking a

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commodity to a symbolic â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;nationalâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; market and identity, brand-name goods provided African Americans an effective strategy for evading the racism of local marketers. Conducting research on African American consumer behaviors in 1932, Paul Edwards noted:

In purchasing foods in bulk she [the African American female consumer] often not only suspects short weight, but has no way to assure herself as to quality. North and South the Negro all too often has been victimized by unscrupulous merchants. Brands have come to be relied on to provide protection in buying (Edwards 1932).

Brand names stood for the consumerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s expectation of product quality. Companies produced standardized products to win consumer trust and sell more products. Brand name goods offered consumers a new kind of control over local surveillance and discrimination. African Americans frequently used mail-order houses and chain stores to avoid second-class treatment from local marketers. In the South, chain stores were commonly associated with somewhat more equitable treatment, since,

It was traditional in the South, particularly in small cities, for Negro customers, upon entering a store, to wait until all white people were served before advancing to the clerks to make known their wants. The chains came along with a standard service for all customers and changed this condition overnight (Edwards 1932).

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Compared with local retail stores, chain stores were more likely to place social relations on an economic rather than racial basis (Hale 1998). Likewise, by the late nineteenth century, mail-order outlets served to integrate individual consumers into the mass market and provided African Americans with an effective strategy for evading the racism of local marketers. Sears, Roebuck, and Company and Montgomery Ward provided a large array of products and gave access to the national market and a national identity without racial deference or a storekeeper’s prerogative in determining the quality of goods a consumer would receive (Hale 1998; Strasser 1989). Attempting to preserve cultural identities and foster social empowerment while at the same time challenging a hegemonic white social structure, in the 1920s and 1930s the National Negro Business League urged African American consumers to avoid white-owned establishments altogether and “Buy Something From a Negro Merchant!” (Weems 1998:17). These are some of the inherited circumstances within which the Mann-Simons family made their histories. Picking up where Chapter 4 left off, I begin with the second of three deconstructions of the commodity concept. With an understanding of commodities from the perspective of consumption and the role such objects played as mediators of practice, I present six snapshots of the family – six histories the family made – examining topics ranging from property to pets. In doing so, I create a foundation for understanding the lives the family made for themselves as one of 'buying a future,' the conclusion of this chapter.

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COMMODITIES: SCENE TWO … oilwells stuck between fish and sucking up the gray gas of love and the palms up on the cliff waving waving in the warm yellow light as I walk into a drugstore to buy toothpaste, rubbers, photographs of frogs, a copy of the latest Consumer Reports (50 cents), for I consume and am consumed and would like to know on this blue evening just which razorblade it would be best for me to use, or maybe I could get a station wagon or buy a stereo receiver or a movie camera, say 8mm, under $55 or an electric frying pan … like the silver head of some god-thing after they drop the bomb BANG and the grass gives up and love is a shadow … —Charles Bukowski (1950s) excerpt from A Report Upon The Consumption Of Myself

We left Chapter 4 with an understanding of commodities useful for production- or supply-side analyses. Recall Appaduri's deaggration of the commodity concept into component parts—phase, candidacy, and context. And note that such deaggration was not really necessary for the analyses undertaken. Actually, the types of definitions of commodity he was reacting against – the types of definitions that are so common in archaeology – work pretty well: a commodity is something produced by a company for sale. But therein lays the danger. These definitions work well because I was looking at production from a site perspective—I already knew they were commodities because they were at the site (i.e. already consumed) and it is a safe bet that they did not have, for instance, facilities for manufacturing their own dry-press ceramic buttons, linoleum flooring, and light bulbs. They also work well because I did not take into consideration the procurement of materials necessary for such objects to be made, the commodity-

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status of those pre-production materials, or the myriad groups of individuals involved—I was only interested in the final phase of the production process. These definitions do not work well when uncritically applied to different contexts and perspectives—like the examples above, but also when the social context of use has changed so much that an individual has little option but to consume—like the shift from making things to buying things, where in both cases the thing fulfills the same function. Although at times a store-bought item can perform the function for which it was intended better than a homemade version, like glass windows, more often, store-bought items are simply part of a new collective practice – a new collective ethos – where the possession of a manufactured item fulfills a social function beyond its material functionality—like table settings (a homemade cup would work fine for holding liquids, but it would likely mark the owner as a person who does not understand, for example, the material etiquette of taking tea, thus socially marking them as 'less refined')1. In other words, commodities often transcend their material functionality through their connotative semiotic functioning. This is certainly not a new suggestion—it is the conception of consumption most often employed in archaeological analyses of the nineteenth and early-twentieth century. This approach is best summarized by Margaret Purser (1992:105), who defines consumption as,

a continuous process through which people simultaneously impose meaning on and read meaning from material culture, and by extension the rest of their 1 Here I acknowledge that it is always possible to find someone who has the skills to produce a homemade item equal to, or better than, the store-bought version, but also acknowledging that it is quite difficult to find someone who has the skills to produce all items making up the suite of objects most of us use each day with equal skill.

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surrounding material and social world… communicated by continually playing off… internally framed definitions against externally framed ones

My goal here is to merge this idea of consumption with the ideas of Bruno Latour, PeterPaul Verbeek, Richard Schein, and Igor Kopytoff to produce a working model of consumption that attends to both the denotative and connotative functioning of commodities from a user or bottom-up prospective. It will be helpful to begin with a quick overview of how others have approached consumption in the social sciences. I follow this with an explanation of how I approach consumption in this study.

PREVIOUS CONSUMPTION STUDIES The commonly held evolution story of consumption studies in anthropology holds that until the late 1970’s, “almost nothing was written about consumption in any of the humanities or social sciences” (Miller 1995: 142). Only with the publication of Douglas and Isherwood’s The World of Goods (1978) and Bourdieu’s Distinction (1984) did the study of consumption became an increasingly popular and accepted focal point of study in the social sciences (Miller 1995: 142). This is not strictly true. As Colin Campbell (1991) suggests, the study of consumption spans the last century, as seen by Veblen’s (1925) work on conspicuous consumption, Simmel (1957) on fashion and money, Malinowski (1922) on the kula, Boas (1944) on the potlatch, Mauss (1976) on the gift, Marx on commodity fetishism, use and exchange value, Sombart (1967) on luxury, and Weber (1958) on status groups and the protestant ethic. To this list I would add Edwards’ (1932) pioneering study of African American consumer behavior. What occurred in the late 1970s was a re-emergence of consumption, or more accurately, the commodity within consumption contexts, as a valid subject of study. 320

Since this re-emergence, consumption has been approached from a variety of perspectives, including viewing consumption as social relations (Appadurai 1986; Bourdieu 1984; Clarke 1995; Friedman 1994; Miller 1987, 1998), communication (Douglas and Isherwood 1978; Purser 1992), social negotiation (Mullins 1999; Pendery 1992; Potter 1999), an increasing separation from, and reliance upon, others (Friedman 1994a; Miller 1987, 1998; Purser 1992), and the material objectification of personal and social subjectivities (Miller 1987, 1998). For historical archaeologists, consumption is most often defined as the acquisition of goods produced for market sale (Adams, et al. 2001; Groover 2003; LeeDecker 1991), or sometimes broadened to include selection, use and discard in addition to acquisition (Crockett 2005; Henry 1991; Spencer-Wood 1987a). Cook, et al. (1996) suggest we focus on the agency of the consumer in the acquisition of commodities, while O’Donovan & Wurst (2002) and Wurst & McGuire (1999) suggest a focus on agency takes attention away from structuring power relations. Consumption is also social display and distinction (Mann & Loren 2001; G. Miller 1980; Pendery 1992; Shackel 1992; SpencerWood 1987a), identity creation (Martin 1996; Pogue 2001; Wilkie 2000), social negotiation of power relations (Mullins 1999a, b, c, 2001; Trigg 2003), and, following Daniel Miller, a process of objectification (Orser 1992). Danial Miller's ideas are worth looking at more closely, not only because they have been influential in consumption studies, but also because he best articulates the idea of objectification, which is at the center of Marx's idea of commodity fetishism. For Miller (1987:81), “Objectification describes the inevitable process by which all expression, conscious or unconscious, social or individual, takes specific form.” At its

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core, consumption is an “act of objectification through the medium of goods” (Miller 1995:20). The development of consumer society rests on the increasing separation between producer and consumer, the result being that individuals are left with no other social arena than consumption within which to forge social relations. Stanley Aronowitz (1992:249), former steel worker and union activist, describes the role of consumption in America today from Miller's perspective:

Satisfaction and identity, once found in making things, then found in solidarity with others engaged in wage labor, must now be squeezed out of consumption, ownership, tourism, and other supposed leisure activities that are the realms in which most Americans do whatever ‘work’ they do…. [Where ‘work’ is defined as] that human activity which expresses creative achievement and corresponds, therefore, to part of desire, our will to objectivate ourselves individually and collectively by creating objects or social relations.

In other words, consumption is a process of objectifying the subjective in material form—an incarnation of Marx's commodity fetishism. Marx used the idea of fetishism – the process of attributing social power (an idea, a meaning) to material objects – to understand the commodity as an object that has value determined not by usefulness, but instead, by exchange-ability. In the process, labor itself – people – becomes a commodity, valued for its/their ability to generate exchange. Commodities appear to be independent of the people who produced them and our capitalist economy appears to be composed not of relationships between people, but instead, relationships between things. Commodity fetishism is a process of alienation. Thus, Miller's work can be understood as an attempt to expand Marx's ideas beyond production and labor to encompass consumption. The ability to (re)appropriate (or 'creatively recontextualize,' in Miller's terms) the meaning of objects is dependent upon

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this fetishism or objectification, of not defining meanings of objects through the people who produced them, but instead as objects that just seem to exist. Fetishism is the essential ingredient in the mass-exploitation of wage-labor around the world today. In the next section, I borrow ideas from technology scholars to understand consumption as objectification, as well as a process of mediation.

CONSUMPTION ONSUMPTION AS MEDIATION Philosophers of technology and others interested in the role of technology in society and people's everyday lives have, over the past decade, moved away from alienation as an explanatory framework, instead adopting mediation as the key concept for analyzing technology. As Peter-Paul Verbeek (2003:91) explains, “Technologies are not thought to estrange people from themselves and their world anymore, but to mediate their existence and experiences.” This is a very useful way of approaching commodities when the goal is to understand how assemblages of artifacts are related in terms of behaviors and routines and what role these objects played in day-to-day practices. When asking what social and practical arrangements commodities make possible, the advantage of incorporating ideas of object mediation – discussed in Chapter 1 – to an understanding of consumption is the ability to examine Miller's creative recontextualization in addition to the relationship between what people consume and what people do—all as part of the same process. Thus, I understand material consumption to be the acquisition of commodities that are complete in themselves – a clock is a clock, a fork is a fork – but also incomplete components of real and imagined assemblages associated with various actual and potential practices and routines. In other words, I suggest that people often buy things for no other reason than they fulfill a 'need' 323

or function. Sometimes a fork really is just a fork. But, since practice is both having and doing (Shove, et al. 2007), I recognize that individual objects are also parts of larger constellations of materials associated with broad patterns of behavior within specific social and material contexts. The bulk of artifacts recovered from domestic sites of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries are not identity 'markers,' but simply the hardware needed to do something. People buy what they need to accomplish something they want to do.2 As already mentioned, there is a need to distinguish between the semiotic effects of commodities and the pragmatic character of the bulk of things purchased. Drawing of the work of Elizabeth Shove and colleagues (2007), the essence of practice as I use it here – having and doing – is the recognition that people buy things to do something – accomplish some task or enact some behavior – but that these same objects shape the performance of subsequent tasks or behaviors—regardless of whether the analytical emphasis is on how objects mediate and script or how objects are appropriated and recontextualized. All of this goes back to Bruno Latour's (1992) observation that what people do is in many cases co-shaped by the things they use. A desire to understand how various objects mediated the family's actions, experiences, and the way they lived their lives fits well with Igor Kopytoff's (1986) approach to the cultural biography of things. A biographical model of commodities is based on examining “idealized biographies that are considered to be desirable models in the society and the way real-life departures from the models are perceived (Kopytoff 1986:66). It is a bottom-up perspective that examines how things are 'supposed' to be 2 An amusing example is the condom case (#12T-139) recovered from the lunch counter trash pit—in 1909, someone bought what they needed to accomplish what they wanted to do (or not have happen, as the case may be). This is also an example of Latour's idea of a hybridity.

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used or what they mean, and the ways in which these things are actually used or mean. In Chapter 4 we looked at the social history of things. Appaduri (1986:34) explains the differences between a social history approach and an object biography approach:

The differences have to do with two kinds of temporality, two forms of class identity, and two levels of social scale. The cultural biography perspective … is appropriate to specific things, as they move through different hands, contexts, and uses, thus accumulating a specific biography, or set of biographies. When we look at classes or types of things, however, it's important to look at longerterm shifts (often in demand) and larger-scale dynamics that transcend the biographies of particular members of that class or type. Thus a particular relic may have a specific biography, but whole types of relic … may have a larger historical ebb and flow, in the course of which its meaning may shift significantly.

The analyses of dry-pressed ceramic buttons and wrap-around bathtubs presented in Chapter 4 are examples of these larger-scale dynamics transcending particular material instances. They are social histories of a type or class of thing. Understanding how the actual buttons and bathtubs the family had were acquired, used over time, and eventually discarded – how they 'fit' within the family's practices and routines – is understanding the biographies of these objects.3 If this sounds familiar, it is because 'getting at' these biographies is what archaeologists attempt to do as a routine part of archaeology, regardless if they acknowledge Kopytoff or not.

SNAPSHOTS OF MANN-SIMONS … the days of the bosses, yellow men with bad breath and big feet, men who look like frogs, hyenas, men who walk as if melody had never been invented, men

3 Note that the biography of a thing does not end where analysis begins, but instead, archaeological recovery, analysis, and eventual storage in a box is a new chapter in the thing's biography.

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who think it is intelligent to hire and fire and profit, men with expensive wives they possess like 60 acres of ground to be drilled or shown-off or to be walled away from the incompetent, men who'd kill you because they're crazy and justify it because it's the law, men who stand in front of windows 30 feet wide and see nothing, men with luxury yachts who can sail around the world and yet never get out of their vest pockets, men like snails, men like eels, men like slugs, and not as good . . . and nothing, getting your last paycheck at a harbor, at a factory, at a hospital, at an aircraft plant, at a penny arcade, at a barbershop, at a job you didn't want anyway. income tax, sickness, servility, broken arms, broken heads -- all the stuffing come out like an old pillow. … —Charles Bukowski (1950s) excerpt from Something For The Touts, The Nuns, The Grocery Clerks, And You...

Like Bukowski describing a snapshot of life through poetry – something of life but not all of life – I present six snapshots of Mann-Simons. In some cases I talk of social significance and use theory to explain, in other cases I draw on a larger context for understanding, and sometimes I forgo explanation and simply present. In all cases, I do not write poetry. These are six stories of Mann-Simons told from the bottom-up, told through commodities and consumption and object mediation—biographies of objects told from what the archaeology suggests. They are thick description that tells us something of the family, something of the time period, and something of how we got from 'there' to 'here.' The reader might want to review Chapter 3.

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PROPERTY In an 1899 pamphlet entitled The Negro and the Signs of Civilization, Booker T. Washington addressed the relationship between the social and material:

The material, visible and tangible elements [of civilization,] … teache [sic] a lesson that almost nothing else can…. [T]he possession of property is an evidence of mental discipline, mental grasp and control … of fixedness of character and purpose…. From every standpoint of interest it is the duty of the Negro himself … to see that the Negro be helped forward as fast as possible towards the possession of these evidences of civilization…. What I am anxious for is for the Negro to be in actual possession of all the elements of the highest civilization (1899:3).

Social respect came via “evidences of civilization,” i.e., through possession of property and social achievements. Benetta Morton Williams, growing up in Promise Land, an African American community in northwest South Carolina, recalls,

When I was growing up Oscar Pressley was an important man at Promise Land. He was a preacher, and he owned his own place. That was important—to own your own place. And he had a little money. Daymon Marshall, Nathan Redd, Dolphus Frazier and Celia Frazier—all these people owned their own place. That's what made them important (in Bethel 1997:95).

Property promised the hope of equality – at least in some measure – in a social environment inundated with official and unofficial inequalities. “Every law passed relating to the Negro,” wrote African American W. T. Andrews of South Carolina in 1917, “has been passed with the intent of controlling his labor and drawing his circle of freedom into similar and smaller compass” (1917:367). By the early twentieth century, social segregation and political exclusion – structural disenfranchisement – had come to be seen by many White Southerners as an essential part of the “Southern way of life” (Southern 1981:209). 327

Mann-Simons owned property. And they used that property to achieve a range of social aspirations most African Americans living in Columbia did not, and could not. They also lived on this property, woke up each morning and went to work, ate breakfast and had dinner, watched their children grow-up and their parents die. They used their property in the same way countless others did across the nation, built little structures to house little businesses. And because they used it in the same way as so many others did, and because they were African American, and because they did live in the South, they and their property and the lives they lived through the property caused discomfort for many white Southerners. But discomfort had a fix, and that fix was Jim Crow. Columbia did not regulate housing or where people could live, but the City did regulate schools and school locations (Moore 1993). And so, by proxy, the City of Columbia did regulate where people would live, since school locations forced close living. The Mann-Simons family never moved, but many of their neighbors did, black and white. Before 1912, before Charles Simons bought the four lots to the north of 1904 Marion Street to be turned into three, their neighborhood was 'mixed.' After 1913, when four lots had become three, when Charles had new houses to rent, the neighborhood was not. The neighborhood was white, and they were black. But this was not a problem, or so it seems from Sanborn maps and city directories and census reports. It was not a problem because those who would rent from a black man in Columbia in 1913 were those who were called White but were not called Southern. They were not even always called Americans. Those who would come to rent these properties were immigrants from Eastern and Southern Europe. They were not Southern, and so would rent from a black

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man. One member of this family, twice removed from Celia Mann, used this property to achieve what would be unremarkable—had he been white. Extraordinary because they were so ordinary. By 1912, when Charles Simons had bought properties to the north of 1904 Marion Street, his mother had already watched and seemingly orchestrated myriad changes on the lots Ben Delane – not her father but the provider of property and husband of her mother – bought from James S. Guinard in 1828. In rural areas, it is common for offspring to remain on properties owned by parents. Children grow up, start families, and build new houses some distance away on the farm (Groover 2008). Likely, they are still working the same land, the same family farm. This pattern is not common in urban areas. Lots are small and so offspring moves away. They may move just down the street, and so the family stays close, but it is a move nonetheless that requires the purchase of new property—sometimes this means moving to a part of town more affordable. Mann-Simons did -- and did not -- follow these common patterns of land-use. The property was purchased in 1828, but the first visual depiction of structures on this property is 1872 (see Figure 3-10). Always thought to represent the house standing at 1403 Richland Street today, the structure pictured on the northeast corner of Richland and Marion Streets is now thought to depict an earlier structure, the house Ben DeLane, his wife Celia Mann, Celia's daughter Agnes, Ben's daughter Mary, and the daughter of Venus Brown occupied. After Celia died in 1867 and Ben presumably left, Agnes inherited the property. With husband Bill Simons and her two children from a previous marriage, Agnes set about creating the property as we know it today from maps and photographs.

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A new house was built during the 1870s, the house still standing today at 1403 Richland Street. The new house stands almost, but not quite, in the same location as the original house. Where the original house seemingly was built flush with the property line – a common practice judging by surviving examples of early buildings depicted on the 1904 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map – the new house was set back from the street 20-feet on the west and 17-feet on the south. Since the footprint of the new house stands partially over the footprint of the old house, the old house must have been moved or razed. Either could have happened. Regardless, the family would have needed a place to stay while the new house was being built. The house at 1904 Marion Street, directly behind the big house standing today, always struck me as odd. Not odd in the sense that it did not fit into the neighborhood— there were many such buildings throughout Columbia. But odd because it differed so radically in terms of style from the house at 1403 Richland Street. From the archaeology we know that 1904 Marion Street started life as a shotgun structure – 15 x 32 feet – oriented lengthwise to the street, and from documents, that it was built in the 1870s. I wondered, why did the family choose to build a shotgun structure as their second house when they already had this house [1403 Richland Street] in this style? It is small and simple, and 1403 Richland Street is neither. It just might be that the house at 1904 Marion Street was small and simple because small and simple is quick to build. It was built to house the family while the new, larger house was being built—there would have been a need for some form of temporary housing. I now wonder: how many people in Columbia – black or white – were in a position to not only build a new, larger house for

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their growing family, but to build a second house to live in while the new house was being constructed? Changes to the property under Agnes during the 1870s were not limited to these two houses. Also built during this decade is the building that would become the grocery store at 1407 Richland Street. The building behind, at 1407-1/2 Richland Street, may or may not have been built at the same time. A lunch counter is built on the corner in 1891. The house at 1904 Marion Street is expanded with its first addition. 1407 Richland Street becomes a grocery. Thirteen people are living at 1403 Richland Street in 1900â&#x20AC;&#x201D; including a 16-year old maid named Minnie Thompson. 1907: Agnes Jackson dies and her son, Charles Simons, becomes head-of-household. Family composition continues to change as do the properties and structures. In 1909 the lunch counter catches fire and John Simons moves out of 1904 Marion Street. By 1910 a front porch had been added to the main house, along with a small addition to the grocery store. By 1912, Charles had bought the four lots to the north of 1904 Marion Street. Over the next year he razed them all â&#x20AC;&#x201C; including the house his brother was living in at 1914 Marion Street â&#x20AC;&#x201C; and built three new houses. Charles rented these houses for the rest of his life. When in died in 1933, his wife Amanda started selling the lots and brought the property back down to its original size. As already mentioned, Charles rented these properties to people deemed white enough to be listed as such in the city directories. By 1919 a back porch was added to the 1403 Marion Street house, looking out over the property to the north. During the 1920s, the house at 1904 Marion Street was expanded even further with a second addition. Garden spaces occupied part of the back yard, the details of which were presented in Chapter 2. A hundred unconnected

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postmolds speak to a multitude of other buildings, fences, clothes lines, and activities of which we will never know. Looking back at Figure 2-4A, one effect of all these changes to the property was the creation of a private space within a social environment in which this family of black entrepreneurs must have been quite visible. The main house at 1403 Richland Street, the second house at 1904 Marion Street – just 11-feet from the back of the main house – the grocery at 1407 Richland Street, and the small structure behind created a visual barrier, separating front yard from back yard, public space from private space. It is impossible to know if the family felt this way about their property, if it offered a space away from the public eye, a place where they could be themselves without being watched in a city where being black and doing what everyone else was doing led W.E.B Du Bois to remark in 1925 that “Every white man became a recognized official to keep Negroes 'in their places.'” But the family's gardens offer some suggestion. In the front yard, in Unit 5, was uncovered a row of bricks. On the north side of these bricks, toward the front of the house, was a planting space; to the south, toward the street, was yard space. A nice, straight delineation of space (See Figure 2-46). In the back yard, in Block 2, was uncovered at least two generations of planting spaces (see Figure 2-47). There was not a straight line to be found. Neither bricks nor any other material marked the boundary between yard space and plant space. And neither is front nor back yard accidental creations, manifesting independently of the wills of the occupants. I recall showing the row of front yard bricks to a landscape architect interested in developing an interpretation of the yard areas. Upon seeing the bricks, and my suggestion that they be incorporated into a landscape plan, the architect remarked,

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“Oh, that's more of a white thing. We want this yard to reflect what an African American yard looked like.” Needless to say, his firm did not get the job. But he did have a point, even if he did not mean to make it: the front yard did look like everyone else's front yard. And the back yard did not. To understand the evolution of this property is to understand the family, and to understand this family is to understand how they used this property to achieve a diverse range of personal and social achievements. It is in this way “household” can be seen (and even defined) as a hybrid, a combined human-nonhuman entity. A family and property together became more than, and something different than, the family or property alone— at least in terms of being able to enact a desired outcome. Their households-as-hybrids mediated their social experiences through a joint construction of family and property.

TECHNOLOGY AND INFRASTRUCTURE In Chapter 4, infrastructure was part of a larger pattern of materialization related to discourses of health and sanitation. Here, I want to examine infrastructure as a consumer technology. The everyday view of technology and the role technologies play in society is guided by the concept of functionality (Verbeek 2006). Technologies solve problems and fulfill needs. I believe this functional view of technology has led archaeologists to concentrate most of their attention on the normative aspects of the goals for which technologies were designed. I challenge this view by exploring how practice, routine, and work co-evolved with changes in infrastructural consumption and such commodified services might have mediated social relations. But before that can be done, some fundamental questions must be asked concerning what a technology might, or can, be. Is technology something that 'does' 333

something? Is it a knowledge? What is the difference between technology in the production of commodities and technology as the commodity? Where does a technology stop? Understanding technology as more than a functionality bridges the gap between the context of consumption and the context of production. I begin by suggesting answers to the above questions by examining how the concept of technology filled a conceptual void created by the second industrial revolution at the turn-of-the-twentieth century. I follow with an examination of infrastructural services like plumbing and electricity at the site and the mediating role such commodified services – as technologies – had on the family's daily practices.

UNDERSTANDING TECHNOLOGY “[T]he essence of technology,” writes Martin Heidegger (1977:4), “is by no means anything technological.” Despite its near omnipresence today, technology – as a word and concept – is a surprisingly recent paradigm for understanding our world of things and things in our world. Everyone who went through Western-influenced schooling is probably familiar with the industrial revolution of the nineteenth century— steam engines, textile mills, growing cities, pollution, labor exploitation. But there was a second industrial revolution, not so well demarcated in the lore of modernity but nonetheless profoundly important in the structuring of our contemporary world. This second industrial revolution moved technology (a word that entered the English language during the seventeenth century and did not even start to become common until after the founding of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in 1861) from from a field of study to an object of study (L. Marx 2010). The first industrial revolution resulted in new objects – commodities – moving into the home through new technological objects 334

employed in the production of goods, the canning machine or the cotton gin, for instance. The second revolution resulted in networks of objects extending into the home and people's everyday lives, where more often than not, the termination point in a network of objects served as reference to an entire system of knowledge; the light bulb, the sink/toilet, the telephone only work as parts of larger systems. Tellingly, the 1911 edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica contained no entry on 'technology,' but did have an entry on 'technological knowledge' (i.e. the mechanical arts). Technology filled a practical and imaginative void created by this second industrial revolution and interconnected systems of knowledge. As Leo Marx explains:

The term that formerly had named a field of study now referred to the society's entire stock of technical knowledge and equipment. [There was] a blurring of the boundary between the material (physical, or artifactual) components of these large socio-technological systems and the other, bureaucratic and ideological components. Even more significant, perhaps, is the erosion of the “outer” boundaries, as it were, those separating the whole technological systems from the surrounding society and culture (2010:575). In contemporary discourse, private and public, technologies are habitually represented by “things” – by their most conspicuous artifactual embodiments: transportation technology by automobiles, airplanes, and railroads; nuclear technology by reactors, power plants, and bombs; information technology by computers, mobile telephones, and television; and so on. By consigning technologies to the realm of things, this well-established iconography distracts attention from the human – socio-economic and political – relations which largely determine who uses them and for what purposes (2010:576).

Like our earlier discussion of consumption and commodities, technologies acquire a “phantom-objectivity” that conceals their fundamental nature: relations between people.

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INFRASTRUCTURE AT MANN-SIMONS Infrastructure provides an unusual perspective on technologies, commodities, and the ways in which individuals are connected to neighborhoods, cities, regions, and the nation. It is also interesting because infrastructural systems are rarely thought of unless there is a problem (or you are paying bills) but co-evolve with collective patterns of practice and, as Leo Marx notes, are bound-up with larger political-economic process and access to goods. In Race and Affluence: An Archaeology of African America and Consumer Culture, Paul Mullins (1999) demonstrates how the consumption of relatively mundane objects like brand-name groceries and household bric-a-brac by African Americans inspired apprehension on the part of white society because of the potential to erode class differences while at the same time these objects were used by African Americans to define themselves as part of a national culture. The consumption of these mundane objects served to empower. Infrastructure is an extension, or different incarnation, of this same pattern. But instead of looking at discrete objects symbolically tying individuals and groups into a national culture, infrastructure offers a chance to see how individuals and groups were physically as well as symbolically tied to cultures national, regional, and local in scale. The details of the form and expansion of infrastructural services like sewerage and electricity at Mann-Simons were covered in Chapter 4 and so will not be repeated here. The Mann-Simons family had gas lines running into their houses. They had running water and sewer between 1915 and 1920, and perhaps even earlier, based on a classified advertisement in the Columbia Record, 10 February, 1913, reading: â&#x20AC;&#x153;FOR RENTâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;To gentleman, one nicely furnished room in private family, with or without 336

meals, with hot and cold water. Apply 1908 Marion Street.” This is one of the properties Charles owned and rented. Although the family he was renting to was likely looking for a boarder, it does indicate that the block had been plumbed for water. Their houses and businesses were wired for electricity by 1903. Each of these consumable, technological systems physically tied the family to others in the community: corporate entities that owned these services, people employed to string wires and lay pipe, accountants and clerks, and so on. And each of these commodities also symbolically tied the family to other community members—everyone else who not only had access to these systems (no matter how much one might want electricity, if the wires do not run to that part of town, than it cannot happen), but perhaps more significantly, everyone else who had the money to pay for these services. Such symbolic linking occurred in terms of racial categories, as well as ideas of professionalism and “modern” thinking. As recently as the late 1960s and early 1970s, several predominately African American neighborhoods within downtown Columbia relied on alley-way communal sinks and outhouses (Maxey 1980)—fifty years after the Mann-Simons family ceased to use them. Joseph E. Winter, a house inspector, photographed many of these structures and neighborhoods (Figure 5-3; see also 3-20). Winter's purpose was to visually document poor areas of town to help “fight blight.” His photographs, today the most complete visual collection of these areas of Columbia, were, in their day, instrumental in generating support for the destruction of these same areas.

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The City (and people) of Columbia did not set about doing something to improve health and sanitation in these poor, largely black neighborhoods. Instead, they simply eradicated them during the 1970s and 1980s as part of urban renewal, just as the halfFigure 5-3. Circa late 1960s photograph of 1923 Pickens Street, two blocks from the Mann-Simons' properties (courtesy of South Caroliniana Library).

block the Mann-Simons site is located on was razed by the Columbia Housing

Authority to build an apartment complex in 1974. In some respects, Columbia was a typical city. In cities across the country, minority communities were disproportionately impacted by urban renewal projects and rarely seen as significant cultural resources. In Columbia, Bobby Donaldson documented how the expanding footprint of the University of South Carolina, located in the middle and southern parts of the city, followed the contours of low-income and predominantly black sections of town. Paul Mullins found this same pattern for the University of Indiana/Purdue. As critical race theory suggests, these spatial and infrastructural relations â&#x20AC;&#x201C; part of our city landscapes today â&#x20AC;&#x201C; were created through institutional racism (Epperson 2004; see also Leone, et al. 2005).

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THE LUNCH COUNTER Thanks to the discovery of a large, very well preserved trash pit (Feature 12T), the story of the lunch counter can be told in remarkable detail. Part of the lunch counter's story was told in Chapter 4, a story concerned with understanding how the diverse range of artifacts recovered from the deposit could be related through an appeal to productionlevel discourses of health and sanitation. The story here is concerned with the day-to-day operations of the counter, offering a glimpse at what 100-year old fast food looked like, as well as a glimpse at why there was Jim Crow segregation in the American South. Documentary evidence suggests that the building at 1401 Richland Street, located directly on the northeast corner of Richland and Marion Streets, as shown on the 1904 Sanborn Insurance map (see Figure 3-16), was in operation for eighteen years, opening in 1891 and closing in 1909. The first mention of the building is in the 1891 Columbia City Directory (listed at 58 East Richland Street). Although the function of the structure is not given, the directory indicates that it was a business and lists John L. Simons, born in 1859, son of Agnes Jackson, as the owner. During the time the counter was in operation, John lived next door to his business at 1904 Marion Street. From 1891 to 1906, the Columbia City Directories list John as a “Grocer,” although just three years before, the Columbia City Directory describes him as a “Mfr. of walking canes, etc.” Not until 1916 would his occupation again be listed as “Cane Maker” and, in 1922 and 1925, as “Woodcarver.” From 1899 until 1909, directories variously describe the building as a “Lunch Room” (1904-1905) and a “Confectionery” (1906-1908). The 1904 Sanborn map describes it as a “Grocery.” While a confectionery commonly refers to a candy or pastry shop, in the early twentieth century, confectionery was a common term for a soda 339

fountain shop (Kasey Grier, pers. comm. 2007). A downtown street corner would have been an ideal location. Lunch counters and other related, small-scale backyard or corner commercial structures are rare in the literature of historical archaeology. Searches and information requests on the histarch listserv only brought to light two other lunch counter (confectionery) excavations in North America. The first is a 1940s-era lunch counter in Las Angeles, California, excavated by South Central Coastal Information Center, California State Universityâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;Fullerton in 1999 as part of construction for the Universal City Station Park and Ride facility (Greenwood, et. al 2000).4 The second was excavated in 1994 by Patrick Garrow of Garrow & Associates (now TRC Garrow Associates) in Knoxville, Tennessee, as part of the Knoxville Courthouse Project.5 Given this lack of other lunch counter and similar structures explored archaeologically, the general dearth of (but growing) archaeologically-known African American owned businesses, and the importance of understanding these types of enterprises within the context of a burgeoning national consumer culture that went hand-in-hand with regionally-specific, materiallygrounded forms of structural racism, the niche this excavation fills is quite apparent. We knew before conducting archaeology that the counter opened in 1891 and closed in 1909, but not why. The 1910 city directory lists John Simons as proprietor of a lunch counter a half-block away, at 1912 Marion Street. The 1910 Sanborn map no longer depicts a structure at 1401 Richland Street. The Feature 12T trash pit provides an

4 Email requests for information regarding the excavation or where I might obtain a copy of the report have so far gone unanswered. 5 Their Atlanta office informed me that they have only one paper copy of the report. They are in the process of scanning the report to send to me.

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explanation for the disappearance of the building. A thin lens of charcoal-laden black soil covered the floor of the pit. Most of the bricks and brick bats recovered had a coating of soot on one face. There were many instances of melted glass, as well as cracked but intact glass, indicating high heat followed by rapid cooling.6 Floor/wall tiles, as well as tableware ceramics, also showed evidence of high heat. It appears that the lunch counter caught fire in 1909—probably not enough to burn it to the ground, but enough to require rebuilding and refurnishing. Since John had moved from 1904 Marion Street to 1914 Marion Street in 1909, two years after his mother Agnes passed away, he seemingly decided to rebuild his lunch counter next to his new house. Following the fire, a large pit was dug behind the structure, the un-salvageable or non-useful contents of the counter dumped in, the pit capped with sandy clay (subsoil), and new topsoil laid down (Level 5). The outcome of this event is a remarkable material snapshot of the lunch counter— structurally and operationally. The counter was 16 x 16 feet and built flush with the south and west property lines (which are also the inside edges of the current sidewalk). The counter was three feet from the house at 1403 Richland Street. The structure may have sat on brick piers, similar to the house at 1904 Marion Street, but most likely had a brick foundation along the front of the building and post-in-ground construction along the sides and rear—the same style as the grocery at 1407 Richland Street. Evidence of a 10-inch post (Feature 13F) in Unit 13 along the rear wall supports post-in-ground construction. Interestingly, an 1863 penny was found centered directly under the southeast brick foundation—the

6 A demonstrative effect is achieved by placing a glass marble in boiling water for a minute or two and then immersing it in cold water. The marble will crack throughout but remain intact.

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reason for this is unknown, but is probably an earlier incarnation of the tradition today, that of placing a coin or newspaper during construction within a wall of a new building. The interior of the building must have been very brightly colored. From paint still adhering to the interior surfaces of plaster/mortar, we know the walls were painted bright red and yellow. Neither white, nor any other color, were found on any fragments of wall surface. Part of the walls, perhaps the splash areas around cooking areas, or even the counter-tops, were finished with bright green tiles that were highlighted with a 'splotchy' brown design (see Figure 2-21). At least part of the floor was covered in linoleum. Drops of paint on fragments of concrete suggest the buildingâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s exterior was painted yellow. Fragments of flat gray marble, 1-1/2 inches thick, suggest that the building might have had a marble serving counter. With only 256 square-feet of floor space, it is unlikely they offered indoor seating. There may have been stools along the counter outside, or it may have been strictly a walk-up affair. There is no way of telling. Swinging on rolled-plate hinges, the lunch counter door locked with a nearly square rim lock identical to those on the doors today at 1403 Marion Street. The windows, or perhaps the shutter above the marble counter, may have been secured from the inside with the recovered barn-door latchâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;one or all of which rested on shutter-sized butt hinges. They may have been pulled open with the recovered cast iron door-ring and held open with the box-latch hook also found. One of the window shutters stayed open with the help of a cast iron, 'S'-shaped shutter dog. There is no way of telling what the two rim locks were used for, or to what the lever-tumbler key allowed access. Four locks of three different types seem like a lot for such a small structure.

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The counter was wired for electricity, as discussed above and in Chapter 4. There may have been an arc-lamp on the exterior, lighting the structure during the dark hours, as evidenced by a carbon rod in the deposit. The interior used incandescent bulbs, which is not surprising, given the harsh light produced by arc-lamps. Apparently, at least one incandescent bulb in the lunch counter was mounted to a wall with a socket manufactured by General Electric. Although called a wall socket by the manufacturer, the bulb could have been secured to the ceiling just as easily. The interior of the socket was gone, so there is no way of telling what style of bulb was used, although given that the socket was made by General Electric – the company founded by, and at that time still owned and operated by Thomas Edison – it was likely an early version of the Edison bulb we use today. In 1909, the counter had a red and yellow and green interior lighted by electric lights. The interior must of appeared very bright indeed. Piped for waste water, the structure's connection to the City's sewer system has already been discussed. The lunch counter also had a gas range and/or oven. In the oven, John cooked in at least one metal 9 x 9 x 2-inch baking pan with riveted handles. On the range, he prepared foods in at least two pots or sauce pans. One pot was six-inches in diameter, the other, 8-inches. Chicken was a common dish at the lunch counter—it would have taken 11 chickens to account for the bones recovered. There was also evidence of one turkey. Chicken was most abundant, but other meats were available as well, including five hams and five shank hams – pork that was likely pickled – and three beef short loins, two sirloins, and three rump roasts. A small number of sheep/goat remains were recovered as well, but it is impossible to determine exactly which of the non-bird bones belonged to the lunch counter and which were domestic

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trash that made its way into the trash pit. Condiments available to customers consisted of mustard (one bottle was embossed “Chars. Gulden, New York”, first produced in 1874— Gulden still makes mustard today), club sauce, and spices or extracts manufactured by McCormick & Company, of Baltimore, Maryland (who are also still in business today). On the side customers seemingly had available pickles, olives, or a relish to choose. On the day the counter caught fire, one of the choices was an English import by Cannington, Shaw, & Co. What the four Mason-style jars contained is unknown, although their presence does suggest not all food items were commercially prepared. The 50 crown-cap bottle closures – the bottle caps still commonly used today – suggest there were plenty of liquids available for patrons to wash their chicken down with, but most of the bottles were too fragmented to identify. Those that were identifiable suggest several choices were available, including whiskey, imported bottled water (imported from New Jersey), locally-produced soda pop, and root beer. I do wonder if the whiskey was available to customers or if it was consumed while cleaning-up the remains of a business gone up in flames. Thirty pieces of tableware were recovered, 28% of which were of refined porcelain (MNI=9), 6% were graniteware (MNI=2), with the remaining 66% of whiteware. The dishes were overwhelmingly undecorated or minimally decorated—not surprising for a restaurant. Fifty-percent were plain white with a colorless glaze. Only 22% (MNI=7) had more than a single band around the edge for decoration. Only two bowls were recovered: a 10-inch diameter serving or mixing bowl and an undecorated, octagonal porcelain footed salt or sugar bowl. Food at the lunch counter did not come in liquid form.

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Customers drank from glass tumblers if not from the bottle. In contrast with the dishes, most of the drinking glasses were decorated. Three of the four tumblers had pressed designs, two with a Prism design and one Bohemian. Three mugs and two tea cups were present, but the most intriguing vessels were three pressed-glass goblets. One goblet had a Bull's Eye & Flute design, one a plain Flute design, and the third a Hobnail design (the lunch counter had no matched sets of any ware). Goblets – wide-bowled glasses with short stems and a foot – seem like an unusual form of drinking glass to have at a street-side, walk-up eating establishment. But recalling that the lunch counter was also known as a confectionery – something akin to a soda fountain – the goblets very well may have been used as dessert bowls instead of drinking glasses. Perhaps they served ice cream in them. This is what fast-food looked like 100 years ago at one place and at one time. It is unfortunate that other such assemblages are not available for comparison. Such comparison would allow for an understanding of what small-scale public eating looked like in places other than traditionally-defined restaurants. What we do know is that the ownership and operation of the lunch counter mediated at least one family member's social experience in the neighborhood. And the presence of the establishment, in operation for 18 years, suggests that even if one did not eat there, the family would have been known in the neighborhood as the people who ran the little lunch counter—which, combined with the grocery store, defined them as business people. This is what the kinds of small-scale businesses owned and operated by African Americans at the turn-of-thetwentieth century looked like that eventually brought about such an extreme form of

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25 20 15 10 5 0 11D (1892+)

31C-Complex (1892-1903) 49J-Complex (1908-1909) 34C-Complex (1907+)

12T (1909)

Figure 5-4. Distribution of pharmaceutical bottles (MNI) over time (per feature). discriminatory reaction on the part of white Southerners, what provoked – in some people's minds – the need for Jim Crow segregation.

HEALTH AND ALCOHOL That many pharmaceuticals and patent medicines were packaged in embossed bottles enables a look at the types of illnesses or bodily complaints various family members seemed to suffer from, and how they sought to remedy such concerns. Of course, this is a rather biased perspective, since any botanicals the family may have used, pharmaceuticals packaged in paper boxes, or generic bottles marked only with a paper label tend not to be identifiable. Nonetheless, the medicinal/pharmaceutical bottle assemblage is large enough to suggest some trends in health and remedies and the ways in which they mediated such concerns through commercially-produced goods. A total of 44 medicinal/pharmaceutical bottles were recovered. All of them were recovered from deposits dating from 1892 to 1909 (Figure 5-4). The majority – 73% – was from the first decade of the twentieth century, including three large bottles of “DR. J. HOSTETTER'S STOMACH BITTERS”—either someone tended to get stomach aches,

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or the bitters were used to stimulate appetite and aid digestion. Just before the turn of the century, someone (or some animal) had worms and attempted to remedy the situation with a vial of “B.L. // FAHNESTOCK'S // VERMIFUGE”. According to King's American Dispensatory, written in 1898 by Felter and Lloyd, Fahnestock's vermifuge is

said to be composed of castor oil, 1 fluid ounce; oil of wormseed, 1 fluid ounce; oil of anise, 1/2 fluid ounce; tincture of myrrh, 1/2 fluid drachm; oil of turpentine, 10 minims; croton oil, 1 minim. The dose is a teaspoonful for an adult, every 2 hours, to be continued for 10 or 12 hours.

The bottle of “SCOTT'S EMULSION // COD LIVER OIL // WITH LIME & SODA” was likely used for constipation issues (or someone was dosed with it as a preventative), while a bottle produced by the “John C. West Co. of Chicago, IL” could have held a cure for practically anything. Searches for products from the West Co. turned up cures for “nerve and brain” disorders (including Hysteria and Nervous Neuralgia) and Liver Pills (for Liver Complaints, Dyspepsia, Indigestion, and “Sick Headache”). Most people likely had at one time or another a bottle of “BROMO-SELTZER” for stomach complaints—Mann-Simons had one. Two bottles of “CHATTANOOGA MEDICINE CO. // WINE OF CARDUI” suggest someone had severe menstrual cramps. Of course, local druggists also provided medicines, both their own cures and prescriptions from doctors. “L.C. LIPSCOMB”, “W.C. FISHER”, and the “RICHLAND DRUG CO” were all represented at the site, although the contents of these bottles are unknown. What the remaining 32 bottles contained is also unknown. What we do know is that while patent medicines and other pharmaceuticals were marketed as medicine, their alcohol content ranged from 17 to 44%, a percentage that is roughly equivalent to contemporary whiskeys (Warner 1998). As a result, they were often consumed as much 347

45 40 35 30 25 20 15 10 5 0 11D (1892+) 11J (1880-1891)

34C (1907+) 31C (1892-1903)

12T (1909) 49J (1908-1909)

39J (1915-1920)

Figure 5.5. MNI distribution of pharmaceutical bottles (orange) versus traditionallydefined alcohol bottles (yellow) over time (per feature). for their alcohol content as they were for their supposed healing properties. Sixty-one bottles containing traditional alcohols like beer, wine, and liquor were recovered from the site, spanning the period between the 1880s and circa 1920. Figure 5-5 illustrates the correlation between alcohol and pharmaceutical consumption. When all alcoholcontaining bottles are examined together, there is a strong correlation between the consumption of patent medicines/pharmaceuticals and traditional alcohols. Although we certainly do not know the motivations of the Mann-Simons family behind their consumption of patent medicines and pharmaceuticals, they do fit the general pattern of Victorian attitudes toward alcohol consumption and the blurry boundary between medication and intoxication (Grier 1988). Drinking liquor may not have been proper, but medication was not, strictly speaking, liquor. The consumption of patent medications can thus be seen as a type of object-based social mediation. But while an appeal to Victorian ideals â&#x20AC;&#x201C; a pattern well established across the nation â&#x20AC;&#x201C; might explain the use of so many patent medicines, it does not explain why alcohols like beer, wine, and liquor also increased in frequency. Here, an appeal to household composition provides a possible answer. 348

According to the Federal Census, there were 13 people living in the house at 1403 Richland Street in 1900: Agnes Jackson, her husband Bill Simons, ten children and grandchildren, and a 16-year old maid. For the period examined here, alcohol consumption increased over time, peaked in 1908 or 1909, and dropped sharply by 1915/1920. In 1907, Agnes died. Bill Simons left the house. Charles Simons became head-of-household, and all of his brothers and sisters left the house over the next few years. Even his brother John moved up the road to 1914 Marion Street. Consumption of traditional alcohols waned and waxed as a function of household size: more people in the house, more people drinking. The sharp decline of pharmaceutical use suggests that it was not Charles, nor his wife Amanda, with a disposition for these goods. It may have been his mother, Agnes, a women who lived her adult life in a time when Victorian sensibilities had not yet given way to the encroaching ideas of modernity. Patent medicines did not violate 'proper' behavior, particularly for a woman, and perhaps more importantly, for a black woman in the South.

GUNS The family had many guns. A minimum of nine different calibers of ammunition were recovered from the site â&#x20AC;&#x201C; .22, .32, .38, .40, .41, .44, .44-40, .45-70, and .577 â&#x20AC;&#x201C; as well as a 12-gauge shotgun shell, suggesting a minimum of ten different guns on-site over time, although the unmarked centerfire .577 caliber cartridge is likely an isolated item someone picked-up, since the rifle needed to fire such a powerful cartridge would have been extremely expensive and of absolutely no use hunting, except for the occasional buffalo or elephant running down the street. The .22 caliber shells could have been used in either a pistol or rifle, while the .32 and .38 shells were pistol rounds. The 349

Shotgun .45-70 11J (1880-1891) 11D (1892+) 31C-Complex (18921903) 34C-Complex (1907+) 49J-Complex (19081909) 12T (1909) 39J-Complex (1915c.1920)

.44-40 .44 .41 .40 .38 .32 .22 0

Figure 5-6. Distribution of ammunition (MNI) per caliber. All of these are spent shells. .40, .41, and .44 caliber shells also could have been used in either pistols or rifles. Early level-action riles like the Model 1866 and 1873 Winchester, as well as the Henry, were chambered for both rifle and pistol cartridges (Van Zwoll 2010). The .44-40 – Winchester's first centerfire round, developed for the Model 1873 – started life as a rile cartridge, but Colt soon chambered its 1873 Model P Peacemaker Single Action Army revolver for .44-40 in 1878. The .45-70, a rifle cartridge first developed by Winchester for a rechambered Model 1873, did not see production until the Model 1876. Figure 5-6 illustrates the distribution of calibers over time (per feature) relative to quantities. One of the most unusual artifacts recovered from the site was an intact .22 caliber “pocket” revolver, measuring 5-1/4-inches in length, with checkered Bakelite grips (see Figure 2-36). The manufacturer is unknown, as the pistol had no markings, but is of an inexpensive type widely produced during the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. Even more unusual than finding an intact firearm was that the revolver was apparently thrown away cocked and loaded. Two of the six cartridges, manufactured by the Union Metallic Cartridge Company, had been fired. The Bakelite grips place the earliest date of manufacture as 1907. Given that the 49J-Complex trash pit was created in 1908 or 350

1909, the pistol was still relatively new when thrown away. Although fun to image why someone would throw away a cocked and loaded pocket pistol – murder, robbery, a shoot-out, being chased by the police are scenarios that come instantly to mind – all we know is that it was thrown away. Given the cheap nature of these pistols – the 'Saturday Night Specials' of their day – I suspect the gun simply jammed—but it is fun to imagine. Finding explanations for the quantity of ammunition and the range of calibers at the site is equally difficult, although some suggestions are available. An explanation beyond 'the family simply liked guns,' might be found in the collective practices of the time period—it was just common to have multiple guns. From listening to older individuals talk about their early years while I was growing up, it seems that gun ownership was simply more common than today. A second explanation is that the family hunted. Large caliber rifles chambered for rounds like the .40, .41, .44-40, and .45-70 would have been ideal for hunting deer and other large game, while .22 caliber rifles (and possibly pistols) would have been useful for hunting squirrels and rabbits and other small game. Small game was a common target for children, a resource they could gather (a child would have a hard time pulling a deer into a tree to gut), and a .22 is a caliber they could (can) shoot without difficulty. Although not a single wild food resource – from squirrel to deer to bird – was recovered from the site, a faunal analysis has not been undertaken for all deposits and not every bone fragment could be identified to the species level. A third explanation, suggested by the social-political realities of the time, is that family members carried a gun for protection. One aspect of this could be that, as shop keepers, they were worried about robberies. But on a larger scale, structural violence for

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people not considered white was the dominating political-economic circumstance the Mann-Simons family inherited. But physical violence was just as real. “This effort to keep the white group solid led directly to mob law,” wrote W.E.B Du Bois in 1925. “Every white man became a recognized official to keep Negroes 'in their places.' Negro baiting and even lynching became a form of amusement” (1925:63-67). Hale (1998:201) writes:

It was an uneasy landscape, the early twentieth-century South, a small-town, small-city world of ice companies and beauty parlors, soda fountains and gas stations. It was a world where people who went to church some days watched or participated in the torture of their neighbors on others … Lynchers drove cars, spectators used cameras, out-of-town visitors arrived on specially chartered excursion trains.

Newspapers and radio stations even announced the times and locations of these public spectacles. But not all violence was so public, so bound to the spectacle.

More often, small groups of white men hunted down and shot or hanged their African American victims after an argument … And white violence against southern blacks was not limited to lynchings—white men continued in more private settings to rape black women and assault African Americans for “reasons” ranging from black resistance and economic success to white hatred, jealousy, and fear (Hale 1998:201).

Violence has always been a chosen method of empowerment. By 1912, the MannSimons family was the sole black family in their immediate neighborhood. They were economically successful. They owned houses and businesses and property. They dressed well. Their windows were lighted by electric light. It is not unreasonable to suggest that having guns – carrying pistols and rifles in the house – was seen as a necessity. A gun would mediate a violent social encounter in a way no other item could. 352

CATS AND DOGS By 1910, the lunch counter was gone and the corner of Richland and Marion Streets, now vacant, was being used by Bernice Connor’s (1998:27) cat.

[W]e named him Tab. He was a straight Maltese … Oh, he was something else. And we would go out or something, he would get on the end of the curve [corner of Richland and Marion Streets] and wait, just like a person. And when he see us coming, he would take off and just rub all over us.

We did not find Bernice’s cat waiting for us on the corner, but we may have found Tab nonetheless. Seven cats and dogs were recovered from the site—three burials, one possible burial, and three throw-aways. The burials were located in close proximity to each other within one of the planting spaces (Feature 54F) next to the building at 1407-1/2 Richland Street—in essence, it was a backyard pet cemetery (Figure 5-7). Discovered in the south wall of Block 2 while excavating Feature 54F, 3.1-feet west of the building, was a single grave (Feature 54M) containing the fully articulated skeletons of a small dog and a cat laying on their left sides with heads facing westsouthwest (Figure 5-8). No artifacts were found within the burial feature, which measured 0.7Figure 5-7. Locations of burial features in the southeast corner of Block 2.

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feet east-west, 0.65-feet north-

south, with a depth of 0.8-feet below the top of the feature (like all the features at the surface of Stratum B, the top of the plant space within which the dog and cat were buried had been sheared-off during 1970s demolition activities, Figure 5-8. Skeleton of a small dog buried in a back so the actual depth below the yard garden space. original surface is unknown. The depth below the top of Feature 54F was 0.45-feet). Preliminary inspection of the skeletons offers no clues regarding cause of death, or why the two animals were buried togetherâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;apparently they died, or were at least buried, at the same time. A second burial, Feature 54K, was located directly between the first burial (54M) and the 1407-1/2 Richland Street building. Unfortunately, a trench had been dug for electrical conduit running to a street lamp for the parking lot, resulting in the loss of the animal's head and upper body. No artifacts were found within this feature either, and hence, no date can be assigned for the burial. Although, given the close proximity of the two burials (suggesting that the soil conditions are similar), the more advanced state of decomposition of this animal suggests that it is an earlier burial than the first. Decomposition (along with its missing head) also makes it difficult to determine what kind of animal it was. Preliminary inspection suggests that it was a small dog (Diane Wallman, pers. com., 2010). Dimensions of 54K were 0.7-feet north-south, 0.85-feet east-west (truncated by the trench), and 0.48-feet deep.

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Although speculative, there may have been a third pet burial (Feature 54L). Unfortunately, the bones were so decomposed that not only was identification of the animal highly problematic, but so too the recovery of bones. Feature 54L was located directly north of Feature 54K, also along the side of the building at 1407-1/2 Richland Street. Also like Feature 54K, this feature was square, with dimensions of 0.85-feet north-south, 0.8-feet east-west, and 0.29-feet deep. But, unlike either of the two previous burials, this feature contained a modest number of artifacts—by all accounts, the artifacts appear to be small fragments of household trash, including bottle fragments and possible stemware. The top few centimeters of the feature also contained fish bones and scales (so far, unidentified). All of which argues against the idea that this was a pet burial. An argument for pet burial comes from its spatial location: in the plant space, along the side of a building, directly next to, and in line with, two known burials. The status of two additional small dogs is better known than that of the animal in Feature 54L—these dogs were thrown away. Discovered in a small, artifact-rich, late nineteenth century trash pit (Feature 34C-Complex, discussed earlier), these two animals were part of a general discard episode. Located 6.75 feet (center point) east of the rear wall of the second addition to the house at 1904 Marion Street, this trash pit is one of only three features discovered in this portion of the yard (Block 1) not related to architecture, posts, or infrastructure (the other two being a charcoal stain and the Feature 31C-Complex trash pit). A third throw-away animal was a cat recovered from the lower level of the lunch counter debris pit (Feature 12T)—a cat thrown away just before Bernice's cat started using the same corner. These throw-away animals – likely nuisance

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animals – might explain the presence of three of the .22 caliber shells recovered from the site.

THE FUTURE IS MANN-SIMONS Seven histories the family made for themselves within the circumstances they inherited. The family did well for themselves. They ran businesses that made them money but they did not get rich. They had gardens, pets, and guns. Bought the same things most others did. Ate steaks; drank soda pops and whiskeys; opened canned vegetables and took mustard from a bottle. When it got dark they turned on an electric light. Children played with marbles. Some washed clothes for a living. Some made clothes for a living. By 1920, they even flushed a toilet. Extraordinary because they were so ordinary. They were black and in the South and the time period was the turn-of-thetwentieth century. And they were part of an emerging middle-class. They had income and they bought commodities. As Amartya Sen (1986:52) explains, “We desire [income and commodities] for what we can do with them; possessing commodities or income is not valuable in itself. Indeed, we seek income primarily for the help it might provide in leading a good life—a life we have reason to value.” A segregated South, the creation of a separate white world, implied that there existed a separate black one (Hale 1998). Segregation created spaces for black businesses, colleges, doctors, and entrepreneurs; for creating circumstances for leading a good life, one with reason to value. In his famous book The Past is a Foreign Country, David Lowenthal (1986) suggests that mass-produced goods – commodities – allowed for the first time an

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opportunity for people of moderate means to purchase diverse household goods in the same style or of particular types. His argument is that in doing so, people – consciously or not – were tying themselves into real and imagined histories and traditions, and as such, tying themselves into imagined and idealized pasts in terms of how they see themselves, or want to be seen, today. Commodities work in the same way that recounted stories and traditions are parts of larger strategies of heritage definition. But instead of 'buying a past,' I suggest that what we see happening with the Mann-Simons family around the turn-of-the-twentieth century is the consumption of ordinary objects to tie themselves into a desired future trajectory. They are 'buying a future'—incorporating new commodities into daily life to project where they want to be. This idea of buying a future became wide-spread by the 1930s and fully institutionalized by 1940s and 1950s—one need only think of all the advertisements for kitchens-of-thefuture and other 'modern conveniences' to understand just how deeply embedded the idea had become that ordinary domestic objects were necessities for modernity—indeed, the path to modernity; an idea consistent with the family's membership in the Masons, their small business pursuits, and emerging middle-class status. The problematic nature of social relations in the South during this period centered on issues of African American entitlements. Entitlements hinge on a person's ability to acquire different 'sets' of commodities—like property, but also like furnishings, clothing, and table goods. Changes in legal and social structures that affect an individual's ability to acquire different commodities – one of the objectives of Jim Crow segregation, designed to achieve a different goal – alter that individual's entitlement. “The entitlement of a person stands for the set of different alternative commodity bundles that the person

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can acquire through the use of the various legal channels of acquirement open to someone in his position” (Sen 1986:52). In other words, entitlements hinge on access to resources. And access to resources is a function of cultural citizenship, a process of “self-making and being made” (Ong 1999:263). Cultural citizenship defines levels of access to resources for different categories of individuals—be it in terms of race, class, gender, or any other way a society chooses to divide itself. This is why Booker T. Washington wrote in 1899 that “The material, visible and tangible elements [of civilization] … teache a lesson that almost nothing else can” (1899:3). Infrastructure, lunch counters, guns, family and property—this and countless other material ways is how the Mann-Simons family – through a process of “self-making and being made” – made their own histories, and in doing so, defined their own futures, under the given and inherited circumstances with which they were directly confronted.

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CHAPTER 6 A STORY OF US Through all the toil their babies were theirs, at least for the brief moment of meeting, there in the birthing place, shared only by the mother and child. the wood leaned in to protect the mother Celi leaned over to guide the young panting woman to the spirit place, the birthing place the place where her newborn waited to see its mother's face Brown women met the night dusted the mother's feet with ground corn meal crowned the mother's head with a bit of new cloth braided lilac into her hair the water, the earth, the fire, the air they breathed these words in a constant chant breathing became a united act breath in for strength breath out for release the air, the water, the earth, the fire burning sacred sage to call the spirits to bring the wisdom of granny midwives the earth, the fire, the air, the water the river flowing, rolling, and growing the river flowing, down to the sea river, carry her, a child she will bear â&#x20AC;&#x201D;R. Heath, What Women's Hands Have Wrought (2006)

Our third and last story of Mann-Simons is one of meaning and the manufacturing of history. While the stories of production and consumption were concerned with past 359

people, places and objects, heritage tells a story of the relationship between ‘the past’ and ‘the present’ through the construction of historical knowledges at the site. Beginning with the purchase of the site by the Columbia Housing Authority in 1970, I examine how the site ‘fits’ within present spaces and discourses of heritage and memory from the perspective of someone involved in the production of such knowledge. I ask, how is meaning found today? What kinds of history are created and who has a voice in the creation process? How do people connect through this place and what kinds of connections are made? At the core of the site’s preservation and its later incarnation as a tourist site are the twin issues of authenticity and commodification. The conspicuously constructed landscapes that are cultural heritage sites act as organizing mediums though which communities remember, consumed as place and experience by residents and tourists seeking “authentic” “reconstructions” of the past. But heritage sites are always inventions, offering for consumption selective versions of the past (Hoelscher 1998). Definitions of authenticity and heritage, far from being politically neutral, hinge on who has the authority and power to define the authentic. Those who can define authenticity will be able to have their account of history accepted as the public version. The central question thus becomes: whose authenticity is at stake at the Mann-Simons site and who has the power to define this authenticity? To answer these questions, and at the same time, learn something about how history is manufactured generally, in this chapter I examine the different histories that have been created at the Mann-Simons site over the past 40-years. Prior to this archaeological project and aside from the physical house itself, information about the site

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came from oral histories and documents. I begin with an examination of oral histories, asking why the family told and re-told the stories they did, how these stories 'fit' with a desired image of the site and family, and how family history became public truth. I next examine the textual history of the site. Not the primary documents informing history, like census reports or city directories, but instead the official interpretive scripts used by tour guides leading visitors through the house. Three scripts have been produced; one for each of the last three decades, and each is a very different history of the same past. With an understanding of how histories have been produced at Mann-Simons prior to this project, the next section looks at the “tourification” of Mann-Simons as a conspicuously constructed ethnic place designed to appeal to the outsider. This is the third deconstruction of the commodity concept. Commodified places offer exceptional windows into the intentionality of landscape production and consumption—and in doing so, offer windows into ideas of accepted knowledges, authenticity, and heritage. In the fourth section, I turn the interpretive microscope on myself and look at the practice and expectations of public archaeology from the perspective of my experiences at Mann-Simons—a project that started as traditional research but became an umbrella project for scholarship and community outreach. I begin by examining issues of race, ethnicity, and public archaeology as conceived by archaeologists practicing African American archaeology. This lays the foundation for asking how this project might inform issues of voice, community, and relevancy in ways useful for other archaeologists. In the final section, and as a conclusion to the dissertation, I examine my meta-question throughout this dissertation and project: what is the value of archaeologies of the recent past?

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FROM FAMILY HISTORY TO PUBLIC TRUTH The significance of the Mann-Simons house always begins with Celia Mann, who, as the story goes, attained her freedom, walked from Charleston to Columbia, started a successful family, and practiced midwifery to become a respected member of Columbian society. This is the public version of history, the collective memory of the last remaining house owned by free-African Americans in Columbia. But where did this story come from? Who had the power and authority to define this past? Even though Ben DeLane was the first to come to Columbia, was the individual who actually purchased the property that enabled following generations to achieve diverse social aspirations, it is not the DeLane-Simons house. It is called the Mann-Simons house for the simple reason that it was the Mann side of the family that first told the story to preservationistsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;they had the power to define the past and to obfuscate competing claims to this history. Their version of this scene became the only version. On 29 December, 1972, Robbie Atkinson (great-great-granddaughter of Celia Mann, great-granddaughter of Agnes Jackson, granddaughter of Celia Simons) read an article in The State newspaper. The article was about the impending destruction of the 1403 Richland Street house by the Columbia Housing Authority. Knowing the history of the family and house, Robbie began telling people why the house should be saved, including individuals at the South Carolina Department of Archives and History. Eventually, the house was purchased by Richland County, turned over to the Richland County Historic Preservation Committee (RCHPC), and managed by the Center for Black History, Art and Folklore, a newly formed entity composed of individuals directly

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involved in the site's preservation, including members of the Wisteria Garden Club. In 1994 RCHPC dissolved and turned the house over to the City of Columbia. From the start, family history and perspective – as told by Robbie Atkinson and Bernice Connors – defined the official history and significance of the site, and continues to do so today. Memories and traditions, as a type of history, are particular types of knowledge. Analyzing how and why memories of places and events develop and are passed-on from one generation to the next is important for understanding the development and meaning of the past, and why some groups tend to remember a particular past while others forget or ignore this same past (Shackel 2001). In the same way archaeology creates a memory of the past (this dissertation; conversations with site visitors) rooted in present-day concerns and motivations for doing such archaeology (to gain a doctorate degree; believing it is an important site), recounted stories are rooted in the present and are parts of larger strategies of heritage definition. David Lowenthal (1997:xv) reminds us that while “history explores and explains pasts grown ever more opaque over time; heritage clarifies pasts so as to infuse them with present purposes.” Or as William Faulkner (1951:92) put it: “The past is never dead. It's not even past.” In the introduction to a collection of articles examining memory in historical archaeology, Paul Shackel (2008) outlines three strategies groups and individuals use for creating a memory of the past that is useful here for understanding heritage. The first strategy is to develop a memory that commemorates a celebrated past. National and patriotic histories are examples of this strategy. Those in power as cultural leaders support and promote a particular past, reinforced through commemorative activities. Here, power works to silence subaltern groups and remove subordinate memories through

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collective memory-making. A second strategy is to construct a memory of the past that gives a sense of precedence whereby current events are seen to have a long tradition, rooted in history. One outcome of this strategy is that current social and political conditions become naturalized or assumed to be “just the way things are.” For instance, Mark Leone's (1984) work in Annapolis at the William Paca House provides an example of how gardens were used naturalize class divisions by appealing to ideas of rationality. The third strategy is to create an exclusionary past. Where commemorating a celebrated past pushes alternative histories to the margins, an exclusionary past is one of actively forgetting or reinventing a collective memory, like the 1914 Ludlow Massacre, where National Guard troops opened fire on a tent encampment of striking miners in Colorado (McGuire and Reckner 2003). Taken together, heritage is a process of remembering as well as forgetting, and the stories passed-on by the Mann-Simons family – and the ways in which these stories became official history – illustrate how these three strategies were used together by different groups to produce a particular memory of a time, place, and people. I started this section, as well as Chapter 1, with the most prominent and oftrepeated memory associated with, and passed-on by, the family—that of Celia Mann obtaining her freedom, as well as that of her mother, walking from Charleston to Columbia, buying or building the house at 1403 Richland Street, and starting a successful family. Robbie Atkinson (1998:2) recounts the story:

Celia Mann was born in Charleston, South Carolina, in 1799. She was the offspring of an African slave woman and a European … Celia Mann bought her freedom and came to Columbia … Now, I don't know if she come by way of an underground railroad. I don't know. I assume she, she was mulatto, she could

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have come disguised. Or she may have threaded her way from Charleston through the woods to Columbia.

The next two stories revolve around Union troops occupying Columbia in 1865. Bernice Connors (1998:29): “When he [Sherman] came to Columbia, all the white people came and got down in our basement [at 1403 Richland Street]. And he went around to Choria College [three blocks away] and burned it, and did not catch our home.” Robbie Atkinson (1998:11): “When General Sherman rode through, Columbia reap with fire. And … Bill Simons [was] hiding in the wooded area, with buckets of water, determined to save the old house.” None of these stories are likely “what really happened.” With the city in flames, Bill Simons would have known a few buckets of water would not have saved a house made of wood. Accounts of Sherman's occupation suggest that individuals in that part of town – black and white – sought refuge at the State Hospital, three blocks from the Mann-Simons site (Moore 1993). And, as presented in Chapter 3, historical research has shown that Ben DeLane was the individual who first came to Columbia and bought the property that Celia would later occupy. What do these stories have in common, and why did the family choose to remember their past with these stories? All three stories directly speak to issues of strength, self-sufficiency, and independence in the face of oppression. And while we do not know what other stories the family might have told, what their actual motivations for these tellings were, or why Ben DeLane was dropped from family history, we do know how these memories functioned as heritage strategies when placed within the social-political context of twentieth century South Carolina—an era defined by Jim Crow segregation and the Civil Rights movement. 365

South Carolina state and local governments seem to be recognizing that they have a role to play in the presentation of different histories, as evidenced by the comprehensive “SC African American History, Resources” guide on the state government website (SCIWay 2011) and the African American Monument on the grounds of the State House. Finding an explicitly “white” history on South Carolina government web sites is difficult. But for that, one need only take a walk around Columbia, where stone and bronze monuments of South Carolinian Revolutionary and Civil War officers abound and the Confederate flag flies in front of the State House. The city itself is a celebration of white history. And while this difference in presentation of heritage – web pages versus stone and bronze monuments – is partially the product of funding issues and changing times1, it is also the product of strategic memory-making on the part of those in state and city government throughout most of the twentieth century. Columbia is a landscape commemorating a particular past that serves to create a collective memory of unity through celebrated war heroes. Alternate memories were effectively silenced, since groups and individuals promoting alternatives did not receive government backing and funds for public displays of how they wanted to remember South Carolina's past. It is not surprising that an African American family living in Columbia would want to pass-on stories that speak to a long heritage of strength, independence, and selfsufficiency in a political-social context designed to marginalize and disenfranchise, and living in a city that publicly commemorates individuals responsible for the creation of such context. Nor is it surprising that when Mann-Simons became the first museum in

1 Although funding the construction of new monuments is a partial explanation for this difference, it is only part. In 2010, the City of Columbia funded the construction of a monument commemorating the pop-music band 'Hootie and the Blowfish.'

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Columbia and the third in South Carolina to celebrate African American heritage2, these stories became part of an exclusionary past aimed at reinventing a collective memory. The house at 1403 Richland Street might not be an accurate or “authentic” presentation of what the house looked like before it became a museum, but if the transformation of the house into this new form is understood as part of a strategy to create and promote a new public memory of a silenced history, the changes are understandable. Indeed, if one wants to create a Center for Black History, Art and Folklore in a city filled with monuments of Great White individuals and the grand house museums of Wade Hampton and Robert Mills, why would one do so in a dilapidated house that would only serve to reinforce the dominant white ideal of differential status, or something “less than?” Different memories and history differently empower people. The stories and physical house served to empower a group with a long history of structural disempowerment. To learn of this heritage, one need only take a tour.

THE EVOLUTION OF A WRITTEN INTERPRETATION When people want to take a tour of Mann-Simons, they need to buy a ticket. Tickets are sold for five-dollars per adult at the HCF Museum Shop, five blocks away. With money paid, the tourists head to the site to meet the docent that will guide their tour and impart to them the history and institutional significance of the family and property. Excepting the Saturday tour guides, who tend to be graduate students in the public history program at the University of South Carolina, docents are unpaid volunteers. For each of the four historic properties open to tourists, docents are provided with a multi-page script

2 The other two being the Old Slave Mart Museum in Charleston, which opened in 1935, and the Penn Center, which opened in 1971.

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detailing what to say, as well as a few general suggestions for leading a tour. Depending on how long a guide has been giving tours, he or she may or may not have this script in hand when interacting with visitors. At the end of the 20-or-so-minute tour, visitors and guide part waysâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the transfer of history complete and an experience produced and consumed. Docents are thus the primary interface between site and visiting community, and the contents of these scripts are the public history of the site. Recall Munslow's (1997) differentiation between 'the past' and 'history' presented in Chapter 3, where the past is something that actually did happen and history is a language-based manufacturing processes. With narratives sitting between a consumable knowledge (history) and an actual the past, these scripts actually become the site and the basis of a conspicuously constructed experience. Recall also Latour's ideas of hybridity and mediation. In Chapters 1 and 5, these ideas were used to understand relationships between people and things, but they can also be used to understand relationships between people and language. In Voices of Modernity, Bauman and Briggs (2003) extend Latour's ideas into the realm of language to understand how epistemologies (histories for us), materialized as texts, become hybrids that mediate and ultimately define the politics of authenticity and inequality in the modern world. In the fourth section of this chapter, in which I explore ideas of community and public archaeology, I return to Latour and Bauman & Briggs. For now it is enough to keep their general ideas in mind. In the rest of this section, I examine the evolution of these scriptsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;these official, public histories of Mann-Simons. Since becoming a tourist site in 1978, three interpretive scripts have been written, one for each decade, covering the 1980s, 1990s,

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and 2000s. The evolution of these scripts is a process of distillation—from scholarly work and oral histories to public interpretation (including making language “accessible,” by cutting jargon, unfamiliar concepts, and making it conform to a standardized idea of what an 8th grader would understand) and the continual distillation of already distilled 'public-friendly' interpretations. We begin with the so-called “original” Mann-Simons house.

THE “ORIGINAL” HOUSE The house at 1403 Richland Street has three levels: a main floor, a half-sunk basement, and an attic. The attic is split roughly in the center to form two rooms, with a small bathroom built into the single, rear dormer (literally a bathroom, there is no toilet, only a sink and bathtub). The walls of the attic are covered in bead-wood and fake-wood paneling, painted white, and the ceiling covered in 1970s acoustic tiling. The basement is unsealed brick made into four rooms as part of preparations for its role as a museum: a small storage room where chairs and tables are kept, a bathroom (toilet and sink), a small “kitchen room” populated with various food-preparation objects, a closet for various supplies, and a large room with floating walls on which interpretive panels are displayed in front of Plexiglas-topped cases containing an assortment of old objects and artifacts from the 1998 excavations. The main floor consists of four rooms with a central hallway running the length of the house. The hallway has a door on each end. The two frontmost rooms are the largest, with two smaller rooms at the rear. It is the northwest room, one of the smaller rear rooms, that concerns us here—the room interpreted today as the original house (Figure 6-1).

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In the 1980s script, visitors to the house were told: “This is the only room in the house that has the original walls and ceilings. The doors are also original” (pp. 3). In the 1990s script, visitors were told: “[This room] shows the original construction of the earliest part of the house, wide plank construction in walls, ceiling, and door” (pp. 3). Today, visitors are told what was written in 2001: “Although the main part of the house was constructed around 1850, the oldest part of Figure 6-1. Circa 1980s photograph of the "original" house (courtesy HCF).

the house may have been built as early as 1825. The original hand worked wood

paneling can still be seen...” (pp. 4). On page 10, the script reads: “The northwest room is believed to be the oldest section of the house.... The walls and ceiling of this room are made of the original horizontal hand worked wood paneling.... The hall and other three rooms have plastered walls.” More is said on page 12: “Because of the horizontal hand worked wood paneling on the walls and ceiling, it is believed that this is the oldest section of the house.”

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There is a game often played in elementary school classrooms sometimes referred to as “telephone.” The entire class sits in a big circle. The teacher whispers a sentence into the ear of the first person, who in turn whispers the sentence into the ear of the second person, on-and-on, making its way to the last person, who repeats the sentence out-loud. Invariably, the final sentence has only minimal resemblance to the original. In the case of the Figure 6-2. Circa 1974 photograph of the interior of 1403 Richland Street during renovation (courtesy “original room,” historic HCF). interpretation worked the same way. The original sentence in this case is the restoration work done on the house in the mid-1970s and a subsequent report of the work published in 1977 by Associated Architects. Restoration workers intentionally left the northwest room exposed with original surfaces so that visitors could “see through” the plaster that once covered the walls. As Figure 6-2 illustrates, the rest of the house underwent major reworking—all other surfaces of the house on the main floor, other than the floorboards, were removed and replaced. This entire restoration process and final product was summed up in one

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sentence in the 1980s script: “This is the only room in the house that has the original walls and ceilings.” A very clear sentence despite its lack of detail. When this story was repeated in the 1990s, “earliest part” was added to the script, but otherwise left unchanged. A minor, but what would prove to be significant transformation of the original sentence. On one hand, “earliest part” is not necessarily an inaccurate statement – most every surface other than the walls and ceiling of the northwest room came into being in the 1970s – but, on the other hand, it is a rather vague statement. Does it refer to the restoration work? A building sequence that occurred in rapid succession (i.e. that room was built first, but not as a stand-alone living space)? Or a building sequence that occurred over an extended period of time? It is unknown how the docents during the 1990s orally presented the “original room” to visitors, but it is known how the third generation of historians interpreted the phrase “earliest part.” For the 2000s, the phrase “earliest part” equaled “the oldest section of the house” (2001:10). On its own, this is not an unreasonable interpretation of an already twicedistilled interpretation – “earliest part” is not so different than “oldest section” – but just like a circle of kids whispering into each other's ears in the classroom playing telephone, the meaning of this third iteration only bears minimal resemblance to that of the original. None of the evidence changed during these interpretive transformations. No new data about the physical characteristics of the house were produced. What did change were the individuals manufacturing knowledge (history) and the discursive (narrative) strategies employed. I return to this point in a subsequent section. The script to be written next concerning the “original house” is the outcome of a 2010 architectural report produced by JMA, Inc. and this archaeology project. The new

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script might read: “The house we are standing in today is the second generation house the family built. The original house was a smaller, shotgun-like structure on the southwest corner of the lot. It was torn down sometime around the 1870s to make way for this house.” Likely at the same time this script is incorporated into the next generation docent manual and presented to visitors as “what really happened,” new evidence will surface and the process of producing new history and dislodging accepted knowledge will continue—the discursive structures I employ here will seem too 'positioned' and the resulting knowledge a product of time period.

THE WHITENING OF MANN-SIMONS “[R]epresentation is not merely reflection” writes Doreen Massey (1994:233), “it is itself an active force in moulding social relations and social understandings.” The evolution of the “original house” is an illustrative but rather innocent example of how history is manufactured. In this section, I examine how a socially-charged racialized history changed with each revision of the docent scripts and how, in turn, these representations changed potential social understandings for visitors—interpretations became more scholarly; discussions became 'safer' (but for whom?). It should be recognized that at least two docents use the current script to understand and present to visitors the 'facts' of Mann-Simons (e.g. Agnes Jackson died in 1907; Charles Simons ran a grocery store), but incorporate their own understandings of race and African American experiences into the discussion. They are both African American. The 1980s script contains only five pages of text: three pages devoted to family history presented through each of the rooms in the house during the progression of a tour and a two page essay entitled “A Brief History of Free Blacks in South Carolina in the 373

1800s with Emphasis on Free Blacks in Columbia.” The three-page tour progression script contains three explicit references to race. The cover page contains the line, “The House contains the history of one family of black citizens.” The first two lines of the introduction reads,

This cottage was built in the early 1800s and is the last vestige of a black lifestyle that has vanished. It is the legacy of a black community and of one family who preserved its homestead before, during and after the Civil War.

The third mention of race regards freedom to worship. The first two lines of the basement tour reads,

Before the Civil War, Blacks were not allowed to hold church services unless a White was present or unless it was in a White church. After the war, this changed and Celia helped organize a church in this basement.

Although only three explicit instances of race are found in the house-tour portion of the script, each is framed in terms of power relations. They were not 'community members,' but “black citizens.” The house is not an example of life in Columbia, but “the last vestige of a black lifestyle.” Celia did not just help organize a church in her basement, but did so as soon as White control of freedom to worship disappeared. The two-page essay found at the end presumably was designed to provide docents with discussion material to present during the tour and provide more general information concerning social life to better answer visitors' questions. Where the tour-progress script contained three instances of race in terms of power, the essay is completely devoted to issues of power, resistance and class during the antebellum period. The essay is worth quoting at length: 374

There were two classes of free Blacks in the State of South Carolina during the 1800s. One segment lived in Charleston and were known as the “elite” free Blacks. They owned slaves as a social status, organized a literary association and a library guild. They were large land owners and merchants. This class of free Blacks supported the Confederacy. The free Blacks in the City of Columbia were another class entirely. They were uneducated (there were no schools for blacks, no black newspapers or churches) and had little chance for advancement. These free Blacks dominated the population of Columbia. They were farmers, artisans, musicians, midwives and unskilled laborers. Even though South Carolina had one of the mildest free Black codes in the South, life in Columbia for the free Black was sharply regulated.... Celia Mann was among the uneducated and illiterate class of free Blacks in Columbia. […] The free Black in Columbia, even though not as elite as the Charleston free Blacks, isolated themselves from those still in slavery and maintained close relationships to the Whites – always focusing on survival.... Celia Mann owned one slave, a woman of 70. This was probably a benevolent gesture on her part.

The essay is not a history of Columbia, nor even how the family 'fit' within Columbian society, but an explicitly Black history. The essay is not found in the 1990s script, nor is it incorporated into the general tour-progression. All reference to power and class are absent, and mention of race is of a decidedly different flavor. Church services, instead of being framed in terms of White control, now seem like an uncontroversial choice:

Religion was important to this family over several generations. After the Civil War free blacks and newly emancipated slaves no longer wanted to worship in white churches. In 1865, many came together to worship in Celia Mann's basement.

Mention of Celia owning a slave is missing. Instead of highlighting the lack of schooling for black children, school is framed as, “When the first school for black children opened in Columbia during Reconstruction, hundreds of students showed up.” The only explicit 375

mention of a black lifestyle is, “Mrs. Connors remembers [John L. Simons] carving walking sticks, an important African-American decorative arts tradition, and selling them at the State Fair.” Discussion of occupations and practices are exemplified by the following:

[…] Agnes Jackson was a baker and a laundress. This piece is a dough board with a heavy marble slab.... If the baker wanted the dough to rise, she could have pulled the top down and left the dough underneath.... In front of the fireplace are some of the tools Agnes Jackson would have used in her laundering business: first, the cauldron. Mrs. Connors remembers taking a cauldron out into the yard to wash clothes. She said that they really got the clothes clean. Next to the cauldron is a tin hand agitator, and across from it a hand wringer.

The history of Mann-Simons was no longer a Black history, but instead a generalized history of a time and place, to which everyone could relate. By the 2000s, the interpretive script had been greatly expanded. Elements from the earlier scripts are found in the text, such as the previous quote regarding Agnes Jackson and the quote regarding walking sticks, as well as much new information. We learn that the chimneys are corbel capped and the front porch has Tuscan-style wood columns; the front door is of the Arts and Crafts style and the staircase leading to the attic is of Victorian style. Details such as these certainly add more interest and depth to the interpretation of the house and site, but what is most interesting is how elements from the 1980s script concerning race, power, and class were incorporated into the new script along side additional information. Structured much like the 1980s script, the 2000s script has two main parts—a tour-progression script followed by a general discussion of social life intended to enhance the tour experience. Instead of an essay, the new script names and discusses four themes,

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entitled: The Lives of Free Blacks in South Carolina, The African-American Family, African-American Community Institutions in Columbia, and African-American Heritage Sites in South Carolina. It is “The Lives of Free Blacks in South Carolina” that concerns us here, as it is almost a copy of the 1980s essay. To quote:

Definite class divisions existed among the free black population. Upper-class free blacks were educated, elitist, and reasonably wealthy. They owned real estate and had their own social and literary organizations. Moreover, many owned slaves and supported the Confederacy. Most upper-class free blacks in South Carolina lived in Charleston where they formed a mulatto elite. Celia Mann was not part of this group … Instead, Celia was a member of the free black middle-class. This group also typically owned property but not premium real estate. They often performed services for the white community or where artisans. Like lower-class free African-Americans, most middle-class free blacks were illiterate. These two classes dominated the free black population. Free blacks in the upper and middle classes often owned slaves. Upper-class African-Americans owned slaves for economic and social status reasons. However, middle-class African Americans frequently owned slaves for more benevolent reasons … Celia Mann was listed as the owner of a seventy year old female slave in 1850. The woman was probably an elderly relative or friend.

The script goes on to discuss the “legal restrictions” placed upon free African Americans (in the 1980s script, it read “highly regulated”), but adds the following:

Free African Americans also were afforded several legal protections in South Carolina. In addition to the ability to choose their own occupation, spouse, and residences, free blacks had full property rights, the right to sue and the right of habeas corpus. Whites faced relatively tough punishments for kidnapping free blacks. Most importantly, free African Americans had the legal right to make contracts with others, including whites.

On the surface, this seems much the same as the 1980s script, just with more information added, like learning not only was a front porch added to the house in the first decade of the twentieth century, but that the porch also had Tuscan-style columns. Both the first

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and third scripts speak of race and class, but three new elements had been added to the latter narrative to produce a very different history. First is a discussion of legal protections for free African Americans in South Carolina. Where both discuss legal restrictions/regulations, the 2000s script adds at the end some of the legal rights free African Americans had, like the right to choose their own spouses. Second is the addition of a new social class. In the 1980s script, there are only two classes of free African Americans, upper-class and everyone else. In the 2000s, there are upper-, middle-, and lower-class free African Americans. Celia is no longer lower-class; she has been moved up to the middle-class. The third element added to the script is Celia's reason for owning a slave. Benevolent in both scripts, reasons have been transferred from the realm of the personal to a class-wide consciousness. Upper-class free blacks owned slaves for reasons similar to those of white individuals – money and status – but middle-class free blacks, like Celia, owned slaves to help others. What is the result? Both scripts frame the historical context in a way that makes the achievements of the Mann-Simons family remarkable. And both historical contexts, although different, are accurate—that is, both present “facts” that can be looked-up and verified from multiple sources. But where the 1980s historical context makes the MannSimons family seem an exception to the norm, largely because they succeeded in a highly oppressive social environment that required free African Americans to focus on issues of survival in a society controlled by white individuals, the 2000s script makes the family seem like a representative example of an entire group of individuals—middle-class African Americans. The result is a shift in power on two levels, historical and contemporary.

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Historically, both scripts frame the social environment in a way that makes the achievements of the Mann-Simons family remarkable. And both are accurate—that is, each presents information that can be looked-up and verified from multiple sources. But where the 1980s script makes the Mann-Simons family seem like an exception to the norm, largely because they succeeded in a highly oppressive social environment that required them to focus on issues of survival in a society controlled by white individuals, the 2000s script makes the family seem like a representative example of an entire group of individuals – middle-class African Americans – that made lifestyle, not survival, choices. Since everyone in the United States today is supposed to be middle-class, I suspect this latter script is more pleasing to visitors on some level. In terms of contemporary power dynamics, what we see is a disempowerment of those who might offer alternative histories. With thirty years of public presentation of history at the site – even with continued research, and hence, learning more about the family – the actual presentation of history became more and more generalized. The most recent narrative certainly contains more information, but only of a particular kind. Like Munslow, Michel Foucault (1979) explains that narrative is the primary form of knowing and telling, and thus, history is never innocent because, as a form of knowledge subject to the complex and subtle demands of ideology, it is dependent upon the uses and social and political purposes to which it is put. History is a means for the distribution and use of power because historical narratives produce the illusion of truth and authenticity by necessarily imposing a structure on the past—a positioned structure dependent upon who is doing the telling.

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As I mentioned at the start of this chapter, those in a position to define authenticity are able to have their account of history accepted as the public version. My question was: whose authenticity is at stake and who has the power to define this authenticity? The answer to the second half of the question is simple: a select group of people employed by Historic Columbia Foundation, of which I am now one. The answer to the first part of the question is: everyone who might offer an alternative history. No one set out to disempower others – I know those who wrote the current script and they are good people who wanted to present an accurate history of the family and social context – but as Foucault said, history is necessarily positioned. With a shift in stewardship of the site from the Center for Black History, Art and Folklore to Historic Columbia Foundation came a shift in the power to define this past. In both cases, power and commodification went together.

COMMODITIES: SCENE THREE Our third and last deconstruction of commodities concerns the commodification, or, to borrow Steven Hoelscher's (1998) term, the “tourification” of heritage. Like heritage sites everywhere, Mann-Simons is a conspicuously constructed place designed to appeal to the outsider. As we have started to see, these commodified places offer exceptional windows into the intentionality of landscape production and consumption. And in doing so, offer windows into ideas of accepted knowledges, authenticity, and heritage. Cultural geographers have been influential in my work understanding the commodification of heritage sites and include Steven Hoelscher (1998, 2003), Clare

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Mitchell (1998), and David Harvey (1990, 2002). Their analyses have helped shape the present discourse in heritage studies in disciplines outside of public history. Building upon their work, I present a conceptual framework for understanding the role of house museums in the creation of cultural heritage for public consumption by incorporating Appaduri's ideas of what constitutes a commodity, as well as Latour's ideas of hybridity and scripting. The framework was developed to help understand what constitutes accepted knowledge of the past and how house museums, as heritage landscapes created for public consumption, play a part in defining this acceptability. In his study of New Glarus, Wisconsin – “America's Little Switzerland” – Hoelscher (1998) examines the construction of an ethnic place that is “more Swiss than Switzerland.” His focus is the dynamic processes of traditionalization and invention used by the residents to visibly reconstruct their community into a recognizable ethnic place, and did so in a very self-conscious way. Although New Glarus is unique in the scale at which this invention occurred – more Swiss live in New Glarus than any other place outside of Switzerland – it is not unique in its occurrence. The increase in invented ethnic places led Harvey (1989:292-93) to note that the revival of vernacular traditions associated with places – of which heritage is exemplary – is a central component of our postmodern world. Ethnicity is a cultural construction, one that is neither biological nor primordial, but rather a construction accomplished over historical time that is continually reinterpreted through structural influences as well as individual agency. Heritage places function to create and recreate ethnic identities in response to social, economic, and political pressures, and in doing so, the boundaries between groups are continually reinterpreted.

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Of course, this is not quite true for all of us. In America, “choice is not an option for blacks, Hispanics, and many descendants from Southeast Asia, an inconvenient fact that makes the symbolic ethnicity of whites all the more tenuous. Constraint, rather than liberty, persistently defines the experiences of nonwhite, non-European groups” (Hoelscher 1998:20). One outcome of this structural constraint, I would add, is the production of contrast, an example of which is found in the presentation of diet and foodways at the Mann-Simons site. I have been asked several times by staff members preparing for public presentations or programs about the foods the family ate. I explain what the archaeology suggests, that based on faunal analysis, the family ate mid-to-high quality cuts of beef, pork, and sheep/lamb; ketchup and mustard were common condiments; pickles and olives seem to have been popular additions to dishes, or eaten on their own; they served chicken at the lunch counter and seasoned it with club sauce and McCormick spices; they drank sodas, beer, spirits, and presumably water; and there were more plates than bowls, suggesting no preference for soups or stews. In other words, they ate what we eat. Needless to say, this information is not presented in the resulting presentations and programs—the desired contrast is not there, at least, not for inclusion in a constructed place like a heritage museum. In response to the information generated from the archaeology, the potential exists to redefine group boundaries, to contribute to the recreation of a group identity. But it seems the Mann-Simons family, as an African American family, is too much like everyone else, at least according to the archaeology. Of course, as I suggested in Chapter 5, this similarity – at the time and place it was occurring – is highly significant.

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At the intersection of heritage and place, the same intersection that defines the house museum, is the process of commodification. As discussed in Chapter 4, commodification refers to the process of becoming a commodity, a process we saw illustrated, for instance, in Chapter 5 with the caricature of African America being turned into a commodity to sell everything from soap to canned foods. We can understand the process behind commodification – something that was not a commodity at one time but now is – by referring back to Appaduri and his deaggregation of the commodity concept. As previously discussed, the most salient feature of the commodity is its exchange potential, or the situation in which something is exchangeable. On one hand, the idea that Mann-Simons is a commodity is not surprising—after all, the site is composed of city lots that have been bought and sold several times over the past 150 years, and we are comfortable with the idea that place is a commodity to be bought and sold. But on the other hand, heritage, materialized at and through this property, adds a different dimension to what is being bought and sold—tourists paying money to visit the site are not buying a piece of property. They are buying an experience, one in which they have chosen to consume. A commodity context is the social arena within which the commodity candidacy of a thing is linked to its commodity phase. The social arena is, in this case, the house at 1403 Richland Street, the objects in the house, the surrounding grounds, and the interaction between tour guide and visitor. Commodity phase is the potential to move in and out of commodity-hood. Mann-Simons obviously was not always a commodity, in terms of a place for people to pay for an experience. For the majority of its life, the site functioned as the private residence(s) of various members of the family and different

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businesses open to the public. If the site was not always a commodity in this sense, then what is it that moved from the realm of not-for-sale to something explicitly for sale? The answer is found in the stories the family choose to pass on for/to themselves over the generations and how these stories became part of the official interpretation of the site. How the family wanted to remember their past is what moved into commodity-hood. That these stories could even enter commodity-hood status depended upon their candidacy—the criteria used to define exchangeablity. Recall that when Mann-Simons became a house museum, it was the first of its kind in Columbia and the third dealing with an African American past in South Carolina. Recall also that this transformation from private to public occurred in 1974, only two years after the federal government had to step in and force South Carolina schools to comply with desegregation. Mann-Simons became a heritage center, self-consciously designed by a group of African American individuals interested in presenting and promoting a history rarely seen in public settings, at least during that time period. And while it is impossible to go back in time and ask visitors to the site why they came and what it meant to them, the ability for this site to even happen and survive – that such a site was a candidate for commodity status – speaks to the need it must have fulfilled on the part of consumers—the need for an African American site to speak to issues of strength, self-sufficiency, and independence in the face of oppression. This recognition also provides an understanding of how this conspicuously constructed house museum even came to be in the form it did. Figure 3-20 is what the house looked like in the 1960s. Figure 3-23 is what the house looked like after it became a museum. As already noted, Columbia was and is a city filled with monuments to Great

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White individuals, and the only house museums in the city were incredible mansions like Wade Hampton and Robert Mills. The transformation of Mann-Simons into a heritage center / house museum is not only understandable as a strategy to create and promote a new public memory of a silenced history – a strategy that served to empower a group with a long history of structural disempowerment – but also one that became a commodity to do so. Such transformations led David Glassberg (1996:19) to remark: the story of “the invention of a collective sense of place, like the invention of a public history, is part and parcel of the struggle for cultural hegemony.” Mann-Simons remains a commodity, but what is being produced and consumed, and the criteria used to define this exchangeablity, has changed over time. Integral to understanding the evolution of heritage sites as commodities in general and MannSimons in particular is the idea of authenticity and how authenticity helps define what knowledges are accepted and which are not. Dean MacCannell (1989) sees tourism as the means by which to overcome the modern condition of rootlessness, and the tourist as the embodiment of the modern quest for authenticity. When tourists visit heritage sites, they expect to see symbols – landscapes and objects – that clearly speak to cultural identity (Hoelscher 1998), like swept-dirt yards at an African American site or an “ethnic,” “traditional” food, not catchup and mustard. People visit heritage sites to learn about the past through artificial constructions of what two different groups of people believe the site should look like—the interpreters and the tourists. For commodification to take place, there must be enough common ground between these two groups to allow exchange to occur – money for experience – and thus a commodity to exist. But is it authentic? Yes, in that no matter what is presented, it is an authentic presentation of what

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a site should look like for such an exchange to occur. The problem occurs when “authentic” is mistaken for “the way things really were.” And how do most museum professionals know how things “really were?” Their answer is scholarship. To find out how things “really were,” we consult, hire, or read an expert in the relevant field. We read books written by historians who have consulted vast numbers of documents; we hire an archaeologist to dig-up and examine the actual objects people used and tell us what they mean; we collect oral histories that are formally gathered through parameters defined by “someone in charge.” And we construct house museums based on this scholarship—an accepted form of modern knowledge. Through our earlier examination of interpretive scripts employed at MannSimons, we see how the interpretation of the site moved from one grounded in particular family stories and a focus on a black perspective to one based on scholarship and a more generalized history to which a wide audience might relate. Put another way, there was a shift to a type of knowledge that can be verified through the same devices used in science: observability (our sources are well documented, and anyone can view them with the right access), reproducibility (different individuals can read the same sources and identify the same “facts”), and consistency (the rules for supportability that are accepted by the broader scholarship community are followed). But what of other ways of knowing? Here it is useful to recall Latour's ideas of hybridity and scripting before examining other ways of knowing the past and why other modes of knowing are not incorporated into the materialized public memory that is Mann-Simons and other house museums. Hybridity – the idea of a combined human/non-human entity – shifts focus

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away from people and things as discrete entities toward the relationship between people and things, much in the same way Appaduri's focus on exchange potential shifts focus for commodities. Hybridity is also useful for understanding how competency or skill is distributed to varying degrees between people and things—a convenient way for understanding how different social and practical arrangements are made possible by interacting with different objects. Scripting is the idea that certain objects – like a house museum – encourage certain types of behaviors and discourage other types based on their physical properties within a given context of use. In Chapter 5, we saw how these ideas were useful for understanding the interaction between people and different objects and how such interactions enabled different practices or behaviors. We can use these same ideas to understand not only behaviors, but also how interactions between people and places – house museums – enable different ways of knowing the past and how places encourage certain types of knowledge while discouraging others. And like behavior-based practices grounded in different objects or technologies, house museums as presentations of the past alter the distribution and delegation of the roles and functions for people as knowledge-carriers. The idea of a house museum as a hybrid that mediates knowledge of the past is almost self-evident, particularly after understanding the commodification of such places. Visitors to a house museum bring with them some knowledge of the past. What that knowledge is, and how detailed, is dependent upon their past experiences—books they might have read, schools they attended, locations they have lived in, people they have spoken to, older family members and acquaintances relating experiences of a time before their birth, and their general interest in such topics. Past experiences are both random

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(the family and location in which you are born; when older family members die) and structural (the opportunities one has to attend different schools; the types of jobs available). From these and other factors also comes a predisposition to understanding what knowledge of the past constitutes. The house museum is a knowledge of the past, presented through objects and the grounds, as well as what the tour guide tells visitors. The hybrid – the coming together of visitor and museum, the interaction between two sets of knowledge about a common topic – is the experience. And experience is the commodity. Commodity is now the hybrid. And while there must necessarily be a common understanding of, or agreement upon, the criteria of exchangeablity for such experience to be a commodity, such criteria are fluid and recursive – they influence each other through their interaction – they script each other. Today, the presentation of history and family at Mann-Simons, and the general social-political context within which they lived, is based on scholarship. Today, the family stories used during the founding of the museum only play a role today when they fill in a gap in other ways of knowing. It is hardly surprising that tourist and place influence and script each other. Not merely a provider of information or knowledge, the house museum is an integral component of the construction of such knowledge. In the same way a visitor to an “exotic” locale goes forth gaze upon the “quaint” or “different” (areas with large Amish populations in the United States comes to mind), so too with the house museum (what visitor goes to a house museum to gaze upon their own daily lives?). And like the tourist visiting an exotic Other, who unwittingly alters the very thing she is there to see – an authentic cultural display – so too with the house museum and “authentic” history.

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Neither tourist nor place remains unchanged in such a mutually-constructive context, although the house museum is slower to change. It is through such interactions that one form of presentation of information, one form of narrative, becomes the legitimate mode of knowledge production, thereby making alternative narratives, other ways of knowing, seem something other than “real history.” This is how house museums as commodities are hybrids that mediate and ultimately define the politics of authenticity. History became “safe” at Mann-Simons with this shift to scholarship-based knowledge—at least for some. For those who offered a different history when the museum was founded, who specifically sought to reinvent a history against a background of marginalization and disempowerment, such a shift might be considered a form of structural violence—the loss of voice, and hence, the loss of power, is not “safe.” Neither is it safe for those who might offer a different way of knowing the past, nor for those who might understand the past through different modes of knowledge as a result of past experiences and different ways of life. Finally, it is not safe for those who are not offered an opportunity to experience how the past might be understood through other means, to know there is another voice. I end with an example of just such exclusion. Each chapter of this dissertation started with a poem written about Mann-Simons. They were written by Raychelle Heath in 2006 as part of a Poet in Residency program. None of the poems were incorporated into the official presentation of history and family at Mann-Simons, despite the positive response her poetry readings received at the 2006 and 2007 African American Jubilee of Heritage festivals held on the grounds of MannSimons. I first met Raychelle in 2005 while I was excavating. She would visit the site to spend time in the house and hear about the archaeology and what the excavations were

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telling us. She had already read all the scholarly texts concerning the family. In January 2010, I had an opportunity to sit down with her and have a conversation about the relationship between history and poetry in general and Mann-Simons and her poems in particular. â&#x20AC;&#x153;I would consider myself to be a narrative poet,â&#x20AC;? Raychelle explains,

I like telling stories. I like telling stories about people, about places, about my own personal experiences. So my approach is always: try to recreate a moment. Of course, in poetry it's about rhythm, about [inaudible] and images, so that comes into play. I think the most important thing for me is recreating the moment.

In addition to writing poems as part of her residency, Raychelle also conducted a poetry tour of the site and held a poetry workshop. The tour was a combination of a docent giving the history of the site per the interpretive script, and Raychelle reading poems at different times that articulated with the tour information. After the first tour, composed of a group of public school teachers, they held a workshop on site with the goal of providing poetry tools and techniques the teachers could take back to their students.

[JC] How receptive were people to that? How did you gauge their reaction? [RH] It's funny, after I heard from you I went back and I looked through all of the things I have from that residency, and I actually had some responses that they had given at the end of the workshop and I had typed up, and they were all positive. People said, you know, history has a tendency to be so distant, and the poetry just made it so immediate. And even though they knew a lot of it was imagined history, it was still a way for them to enter into the history of the site, and people connected to it in an immediate way. That seems to be the reaction for all the responses that I read through. [JC] That's pretty cool. That's the one thing that archaeology kind of lacks, that immediate type of connection.

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[RH] Yeah, and I think that the big thing with the poetry workshop was the stories. You know, you can read about a group of people that lived in a certain place and did certain things, but when you give a name to that person, and you kind of attach emotions to the activities, whether they are real or not, it just makes it so much more immediate. And I think that's what the poetry did.

On her own connection to the site and how she connected to the site in order to write poetry, Raychelle echoes the same sense of detachment with history her workshop participants felt:

[B]ecause I'm reading this historical information, and even though I know somewhere in my head that these are verifiable documents, etc., it's incredibly abstract, you know. So, actually being in the house, actually seeing things that were used at some point, I was able to make a personal connection. You know, I mean, the first part is recognition. I recognize that this is a book. And the second part is the connectionâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;'oh, I've used that, and they might have used it for that too,' or, 'my grandmother used that.' You know, really being able to kind of make tangible connections. I think that's what it was. I could touch those things. I knew what they felt like. I knew what they looked like. And I could use that to kind of [inaudible] my imagination, for what they might have been used for before.

This is what Raychelle had to say about three of the poems I chose to introduce chapters in this dissertation. On What Women's Hands Have Wrought, the opening of the present chapter, she said:

One of the things that fascinated me about Celia Mann was that she was a midwife. And all of my research about midwifery, for that project, was such a deeply spiritual... it was a deeply spiritual job. Like, you weren't just a doctor, you were really connecting spirits when you did this. And there were chants and there was ritual and it was incredibly delicious to write about. And so, just inundating myself with that information and making the connection between a mother and a child, even though you know it was limited, they might not have been able to keep their children. But they had that one moment. And that was so special. So that poem was called, â&#x20AC;&#x153;What Women's Hands Have Wrought,â&#x20AC;? and it just went through the process or ritual of the midwife; collecting the women, gathering around the mother, creating this safe space, burning sage, eating cornmeal, those kinds of things.

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Her Seeking History 2 opens Chapter 2, my methods chapter:

[T]here's a part one and a part two to that. And that was just me kind of grappling with the gravity of what I was doing. You know, I was literally going into this historical space that, you know, is connected to me ancestrally, but was not something I'd ever delved into for myself. And trying to make a connection and how there was some fear around that. 'What am I going to find here?' I want to be sure if I want to open that door and go in. So those are about my own personal process.

The dissertation itself begins with The Neighbors:

There's the one about the neighbors. And that was immediate. I went into the bedroom upstairs and I saw that window and I looked out and I thought, 'my god, I mean, what was it like for them? To constantly be observed.' You know, this black family in the neighborhood. And what that meant for me growing up, how I didn't have to experience that.

Raychelle's reflections on what 'the past' is speaks to what we all lose when alternate ways of knowing are marginalized, excluded, or simply not seen as â&#x20AC;&#x153;real historyâ&#x20AC;?:

You know, it kind of sounds clichĂŠ, but you kind of have to know something about it to know where you're going. But for me, I don't know, the past is a little more fluid, and little more organic, then it is for some people. You know, I mean, I know in theory what my heritage is, but I also know that I've connected in so many different ways with so many different cultures and places and beings, that I can't, you know, unless someone comes in here and says, 'on this piece of paper you will find exactly your ancestral lineage,' I feel like you ought to be able to create that for yourself. [laughs] You ought to be able to create your own personal narrative. And that's not to say that you completely ignore your, the fact that your folks came from Ireland or whatever, but if your spiritual connection is with Paraguay, you shouldn't box that out because of the lineage, past, whatever, that is inherited to you, I guess is what I'm thinking. And I think that's why it was so easy for me to manipulate what was put in front of me as far as the Mann-Simons history. You know, because I understand on an intellectual level that there are certain truths about their situation. But I also understand that we weren't there. And we don't really know what happened. And people have a very interesting way of surprising us with how they interact with other people. When you start getting into generalizations

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about behavior, it's very faulty. So, you know, I don't feel like the past ought to dictate our expectations of history.

Indeed. In the following section I examine the manufacturing of history that is occurring by way of the larger project of which this dissertation is a part.

ARCHAEOLOGY AND PUBLICS With an understanding of commodities, narratives, scripts, heritage, and alternate ways of knowing the past, I ask in this section how the unfolding of the project of which this dissertation is a part might inform issues of voice, community, and relevancy in ways useful for other archaeologies of the recent past. To do so, we first need to take a step back and look at the larger disciplinary context within which this project fits by asking a series of questions: What is African American archaeology? Is it by necessity a public archaeology, and if so, who are our intended audiences? Is it a history of American experience, a history of African American experience, or a diasporic experience in America? To suggest answers to these questions, I examine the parallel development of African American archaeology and public archaeology. I follow this with an exploration of the relationship between empirical and critical archaeologies and suggest, based on this project, that the ways in which these approaches articulate offers a useful framing for understanding issues of voice, community, and relevancy in archaeologies of the recent past.

PUBLICS AND POLITICS African American archaeology is the fastest growing thematic focus in historical archaeology, second only in popularity to archaeologies of capitalism (Leone, et al 2005; 393

Singleton 1995). The emergence of African American archaeology as a defined theme is generally credited to the pioneering efforts of Charles Fairbanks (Ascher and Fairbanks 1971), John Otto (1980), and Theresa Singleton (1985). But the emergence of African American archaeology as a theme is also the product of federal historic preservation laws and mandated cultural resource management (CRM) (Epperson 2004; Joseph 2004). With CRM, for the first time, sites were being excavated in large numbers independently of the interests of academics. “While we can all celebrate the burgeoning interest in African American archaeology,” writes Epperson (2004:105), “a more skeptical view is that this activity may reflect, in part, the disproportionate environmental impacts borne by minority communities… archaeological sites [associated with minority communities] are frequently viewed as a ‘removable resource.’” That both the lack of African American sites available in urban contexts today and the rise of African American archaeology as a research theme spring, in part, from the same set of structural inequalities highlights one of the most challenging realities facing historical archaeologists today: African American archaeology is political. The development of public archaeology – archaeology for publics beyond descriptive education or giving a voice to “people without history” – is largely the outgrowth of practitioners of African American archaeology questioning the relevance of their work and wrestling with the political nature of the undertaking. As Maria Franklin (1997:44) notes, people had histories before archaeology. “People would not be without history, culture, or tradition should archaeologists and anthropologists vanish from the face of the earth.” Asking what the use of plantation archaeology is, Parker B. Potter (1991:99) asks, “of what use is it to contemporary African Americans to know the quality

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of the dishes used by their enslaved ancestors?” Such questions have led to a general agreement among practitioners that archaeologies of African American experiences should have relevance for contemporary society, although there is much debate over what this relevance should be, for what purpose, and for whom (Franklin 1997). There is likewise considerable variation in how one is to go about making one’s research relevant. The most common solution is that of inclusion in the research process. Inclusion generally comes about through the collection of oral histories, and is “often seen as the solution to the problem of black perspective” (Singleton 1995:135). As with documentary sources used to create cultural context, however, most oral histories are relegated to a passive role of providing a backdrop for the questions asked by the archaeologist. Michael Blakey (1997:142) suggests, “If one is to understand how archaeology articulates with African-American communities, one must consider how Euroamerican racism is expressed by the behaviors of archaeologists.” Most of these behaviors are associated with issues of false-empowerment and superficial inclusion (Epperson 2004) and result from a lack of reflection (Franklin 1997; Potter 1991). An unreflective archaeology feeds back into racist structures, where “our failure [as archaeologists] to establish ties with black Americans… serves to further subjugate them, for they are in turn fully implicated in any historical interpretations concerning the black past” (Franklin 1997:40). Archaeologists are not in the “business of ‘giving’ a history to the public” (Franklin 1997:44). African American archaeology as public archaeology “should encourage and contribute to the task of creating a history that tells how Americans of different races and ethnicities are integral to understanding America’s past and present”

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(Edwards-Ingram 1997:30). Carol McDavid (1997:118), in her work with the local community surrounding the Levi Jordan Plantation in Texas, found the residents, black and white, weary of participation. Residents did not want to participate in the generation of yet another polarizing history, where either black or white is presented as a passive category to frame the actions of the other group. This weariness is symptomatic of a larger issue identified by Laurie Wilkie (2004:113): the work of historical archaeology “has been similar to the work of second-wave feminists: remedial in nature. In attempting to emphasize the distinctiveness and uniqueness of the African American experience, we have again succeeded in isolating that past from broader American history.” What is the answer?

CRITICAL OR EMPIRICAL? Mid-way through fieldwork, I was confronted with a methodological problem common to archaeological projects and public engagement: whose voice is heard, why, and how are these voices incorporated into the research process? Issues of inclusion, participation, public engagement, and relevance beyond academia were not initial project goals for me at Mann-Simons. Although I always wanted the project to be accessible to a wide audience, it was only by working outside on a downtown street corner heavy with pedestrian traffic off-and-on for two years and talking with more people than I could possibly count that I came to realize that meaning- and place-making materialize not only in organized tours, self-selected visitors, and glossy pamphlets, but in conversations with Columbia’s populations rarely included in formal outreach efforts. These interactions caused me to reconsider the public/archaeologist relationship and the process by which meaningful history is produced and for whom. 396

The methodological problem I was confronted with can be reduced to a perceived conflict between empirical and critical archaeologies. When Parker B. Potter, Jr. and Nancy Jo Chabot (1992:53) wrote, “we are willing to give up having the final word in exchange for the benefits of being able to hear all kinds of interesting voices other than our own,” they were wrestling with the problem of situated, multivocal public interpretations. In asking, “How do we resolve conflict when our archaeologically based interpretations run contrary to the vision of others involved in the interpretive process?” Stanley South (1992:56) was wrestling with the same question. Each advocates a need for public engagement in archaeology, but does so in seemingly opposing ways. Potter and Chabot are self-described critical archaeologists. Potter (1992:36) explains that critical theory “aims to inspire enlightenment, which may lead to emancipatory social action” by showing “people that many aspects of contemporary social and economic life that are taken for granted are neither natural nor inevitable but are, instead, open to question, challenge, and even change.” South disagrees. Public engagement is education for audiences and interpretations of the past are “dictated by the archaeological record, not impressed onto it so as to grind today’s public political axes” (1992:55). Potter and South offer important considerations while representing opposite ends of the interpretive spectrum, thereby illuminating the central problem I was confronted with half-way through excavations: how does one attend to the concerns of critical theory—specifically, voice, authority, and public engagement— without compromising or doing away with empirically-based research? My solution to the problem of balancing critical and empirical archaeologies has already been suggested. Don Meinig suggested the answer in 1979 with his paper, “Ten

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Versions of the Same Scene,”—albeit, Meinig likely did not know he was providing a solution to this particular problem. In Chapter 1, I presented the idea of versions and scenes – elephants and blind men – as a framework for incorporating multiple, sometimes conflicting, interpretations of the past. It is a simple idea with powerful interpretive potentials, not least of which is a way of dealing with issues of voice, authority, and authenticity in terms of site visitors and the presentation of history—a critical theory portion of our original problem. Since many people come to the site with the Celia-Mann-Walked-fromCharleston-to-Columbia version of history already firmly planted, using the idea of multiple versions of the same scene has proved an effective way of challenging visitors’ beliefs without falling into the trap of “what really happened,” particularly by people in a position to tell the story. After re-introducing Ben DeLane into the history of the site for visitors, the question is raised: why has the family chosen to pass this story on generation-after-generation? This opens the door for a discussion of the themes to which the story speaks. Ideas of strength in the face of adversity, independence, the overcoming of obstacles, and success are reflected here and in other family stories. These are themes to which archaeology also speaks. The idea that ‘the past’ is composed of multiple, fragmented histories viewed from situated vantage points moves interpretation away from a singular, linear chronology of events toward a multi-layered history with parallel, sometimes competing, truths. One of my research goals was to define more fully the flow and distribution of commodities during the transition between the Victorian and modern periods so as to understand better the context within which consumer choice took place—i.e. Chapter 4.

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This is the empirically-grounded side of our original problem, which, within this framework becomes just another version of the site-scene—a different part of the elephant. The original problem is essentially sidestepped. This approach easily accommodates the concerns of critical theory without worrying about the appropriateness or integration of empirically-grounded interpretations that do not deal directly with the majority of socio-political concerns today. They coexist peacefully side-by-side. So far, I have discussed engagement in terms of interpreting the site’s history, but engagement is more than interpretation. This framework also allows for participation in the production of history somewhat independent of the details of the archaeological site. Since public involvement was not an initial goal, this was an accidental discovery that came about through continued conversations with neighborhood residents and others. By virtue of where the site is located, I was probably exposed to a more representative sample of Columbia’s population than most projects allow. Since I did not want anything specific from visitors, but always enjoyed talking about the project, the conversations were agenda-free—friendly exchanges as I became more-and-more a neighborhood fixture. What I came to understand is the process by which people connect to each other through place. People would contribute their versions of social life within the same themes of which the site speaks. One older African American gentleman who stopped by the site once a week came by one day when I was excavating a trash pit containing several patent medicine bottles. He asked what I thought of the bottles, and I answered something bland about the patent medicine industry and the ubiquitous presence of these bottles on sites of the period. He told me they reminded him of his grandmother, who would make her own

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medicines and store them in similar bottles. He told me of plants she grew, the remedies she made, and relations with neighbors as a child in a part of Columbia long since razed for urban development. I learned from other visitors what it was like to be a child in a family supporting themselves as migrant farm workers, to be poor and go shopping at the yard sales of Columbia’s wealthy during the 1940s, of games children played in the street, and a host of other stories. This is how I learned that meaningful history is more than what the site can tell us. Meaningful history also comes from the site-as-forum by allowing people to tell their own stories of social life through the site. The individuals who found the most significance in the site, those who were able to connect to the site and tell their stories through the site were those individuals who are rarely included in formal outreach efforts. These are the community voices being incorporated into the larger project and why they are being included—they have stories to tell, they feel a connection to the site beyond superficial interest in square holes and old bottles, and their voices are rarely heard. They are a self-defined community speaking to the site’s themes, not a community pre-defined by an archaeologist in terms of descent, geographic location, or ethic affiliation. As Kenneth G. Kelly (pers. comm. 2010) remarked, their prior interest is not assumed. Reconceived as archaeology and public forum, a new project goal beyond strict definitions of archaeology is to blur the artificial divide between conceptions of the “past” and “present” by focusing on a single politically defined unit of space—a rectangle formed by property boundaries that is the same size today as it was when Ben DeLane, after purchasing his freedom in Charleston, bought the property in 1828—and

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the ways in which people have always created meaning through this place. It follows that the project is simply the most recent chapter in the story of this urban lot. Stories of what life was like for individuals at the same place during the same time will be presented side-by-side, as in Meinig’s story of different individuals viewing their scene as wealth, history, and problem. These stories will also be presented side-byside with my own version of the site—in a booklet for free distribution to neighborhood residents as well as at the site itself. With this framework, I was able to concentrate on those coherent bodies of ideas – those versions of this scene – that at one time united particular elements to create meaningful landscapes, like commodities (i.e. this dissertation), while others have the opportunity to present their versions of social life in a way relevant to their own ideas of meaning, heritage, and identity. And since the past is that metaphorical elephant, interpretations not traditionally found next to archaeology – like Raychelle Heath's poetry – become complementary—and on their own, each interpretation of the past, once seen together, seems a bit impoverished.

THE VALUE OF ARCHAEOLOGIES OF THE RECENT PAST My meta-question throughout this dissertation has been: what is the value of archaeologies of the recent past? One goal was to suggest multiple ways in which a single site from the turn-of-the-twentieth century might contribute to our understanding of social life from a time period already highly documented, photographed, and (for the later part), still in the memories of living individuals. A second goal was to suggest that the significance of our archaeological projects, those dealing with the recent past, do not always – and need not always – revolve around the site's former occupants. We owe the

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existence of the site to those former occupants – they did, after all, create the deposits from which we interpret – but these occupants must sometimes be cast in supporting roles. Before I could suggest what we might learn from archaeologies of the recent past, I needed to answer two fundamental questions: 1) how to link archaeological remains to social lives in a meaningful way from a time period that is not only highly documented, but also the subject of multiple disciplines, and 2), how to tell a story of this past without simplification. Commodities are of interest to multiple disciplines, were and continue to be a structuring reality in people's lives, and form the bulk of recovered artifacts from the recent past—commodities were my focus for these reasons. The first question then became: how to link commodities to social lives in a meaningful way that might be of interest to others. Examining discourses and the ways in which objects mediated experiences was my answer. Discourses and mediation transcend disciplinary boundaries and as processes, cross-cut time periods. The answer to the second question was to recognize that the past is a metaphorical elephant and we are all blindly attempting to understand what that elephant is. To avoid simplification I chose to ignore the totality of the elephant and focus on the small bits of the whole that I could “see.” Since the past is composed of fragmented histories, I presented my story of Mann-Simons as three related but independent histories from situated vantage points. In the story of production, I told a story of the past that had nothing to do with the family that lived on the northeast corner of Richland and Marion Streets in downtown Columbia for nearly 150 years. They provided the materials for this story through their everyday actions and behaviors – by digging pits for trash and throwing garbage in them

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or paying for a sewer line to be extended from the street to their house â&#x20AC;&#x201C; but that is the extent of their role in that story. And that is the extent of the role most of us play when it comes to production-level discourses: we make our lives within structures of which we have no direct control. In aggregate we change structure; as individuals we reflect structure. Archaeology can 'get-at' both. The choice is one of scale, which is why I argued that historical archaeologists may have thrown the baby out with the bath water when we abandoned models like commodity flow. Artifacts are static reflections of a past actuality that, through spatial-temporal patterning, expose the social lives of things. The second story was one of consumption. This bit of the elephant had everything to do with the family. Where an idea of commodity as a thing produced for sale worked well for my limited focus in the production story, simply understanding a commodity as â&#x20AC;&#x153;a thing boughtâ&#x20AC;? tells us nothing. Nor does understanding consumption simply in terms of meaning, (re)appropriation, or as a process of alienation. These are all aspects of consumption, but to this list must be added the ideas of mediation and hybridity. It is only though an understanding of how 'having' influenced 'doing' can we understand practice in a way that attends to both the material and immaterial nature of ordinary objects. I illustrated this approach through a series of mini-histories or snapshots of Mann-Simons and the objects they interacted with, from property to guns to infrastructure, concluding with a picture of a family that incorporated commodities into their daily lives in a way that placed them on a path to modernity that would become mainstream in America by the 1940s. In the third and last story, I explored how meaning was, and continues to be, made at and through the site with a focus on the commodification of heritage. This story had

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nothing and everything to do with archaeology: nothing, because it did not matter where I dug or what I found and not a single recovered artifact was engaged; everything, because no examination would have been made if archaeology had not been done, nor would a community have defined itself along an unexpected line, a poet would not have explored her roots through this history, high school students would not be applying their skills in drafting and construction for a real-world application, a free outdoor community museum would not be built next year, a more complicated past would not be presented to visitors, and students would not have had an opportunity to engage in the practice of archaeology without leaving their own town. The value of archaeologies of the recent past is found in all of these storiesâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;if they are all encouraged to happen together.

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APPENDIX A – FIELD AND LABORATORY CONTRIBUTORS

The following is a list of individuals who worked with me in the field and/or laboratory during the Mann-Simons Archaeology Project. I have made every effort to keep track of everybody's names over the past six years, but there is still a chance that I have missed somebody. If you contributed to the project but do not find your name listed here—I apologize greatly. Without the time, effort and skills of all of these individuals, this project would not have been possible. Thank you all.

PAID WORK Heléna L. Ferguson Joseph M. Crockett Kelsey B. Hanrahan Lauran L. Riser Benjamin P. Johnson

LONG-TERM VOLUNTEERS Jay Cox Kathleen Clardy Joseph Johnson Adam Butler James Stewart Kathrine Arnold

426

SHORT-TERM VOLUNTEERS Edward Carr Chris Judge Michael Whiteley Kelli Haynes Andrew Forrester Jill Daw Kristen Hudgins Don Rosick Megan Monts Aaron Burnette Emily Dale

SHORT-TERM VOLUNTEERS FROM ANTHROPOLOGY 101 2006 Stephen Williams Austin Paterek Kaci Henderson James Bond Megan Monts Kayla Harward Erica Raheja Joe Magni Patrick Browett Lisa Randle Alan Sanders Elizabeth Tevepaugh Katie McWilliams LaQuisha Chester Kim Lange

427

Karin Salmon 2007 Lauren Crosby Riley Woods Laura Ybarra Dan Wiley Zekharyah Wardlaw Peter Voso Trevor Valenti Kathleen Shank Stephanie Nelson Abby Lavelle Eric Jones Jay Hutchison Kim Haire Ryan Dennis Rob Corney Phil Butts Nicola Brown Danielle Anderson Drew Allen 2008 Ryan Wade Brenda Martin Mitch Anderson Brian Harley E. Stone Miller Kyle Christensen Michael Becker

428

Kate Smithers Lauren Haynes Tim Akeson Mary Jane Morris Dave Hutton JociĂŠ Migana Katherine Kuszmaul Jake Goss Anne Thomas Tracy Paul Matthew Kibbey Joseph Johnson Sarah Skinner Steven Ratugon Lauren Dickerson Maxwell Clayton Rick Nichols Meghan Fields Anne Bonavente Zac Fry Brian Boomhower John Mazzochi John Gottshalk 2009 Michael Wolverton Conor Frickel Adam Stewart Erick Shaw Cody Sento Chris Schlaff

429

Jordan Reynolds Rozalynne Pate Keith Minor Brandon McAbee Renee Mathews Jonathan Jones Ryan Gadow Heather Dupre Elise Burnham-Fay Ben Bell Yasmine Elraheb Alison Connington Michael Cryer Ryan Quinn Erica Huff

FIELD SCHOOL – MAY 2006 Heléna L. Ferguson Meg Gaillard Sean Hall Dwight Jones Don Rosick Karin Salmon James Stewart Kelsey Hanrahan Shannon Kicza Alita Huff Mikiten Denise Dunovant Ben Johnson Jackie Pitts Kimberly Cavanagh (Teaching Assistant)

430

FIELD SCHOOL – FALL 2006 Aileen Ahearn Adam Butler Heléna L. Ferguson Tamara Looney Erika Heimbrook-Shofner Austin Paterek Julia Frozza-Silva Jean Schwab Megan Monts Robin Villereal Blake Monson Charles Brooks Michal Wigal (Teaching Assistant)

FIELD SCHOOL – MAY 2007 Zachary Buffington Kathleen Clardy Stephanie Jones Casey Rigby Lisa Randle Margaret McWhorter Sarah Swanson Heléna L. Ferguson (Teaching Assistant)

431

APPENDIX B â&#x20AC;&#x201C; ARTIFACT CATALOG FIELDS AND VALUES CLASS

PART (cont')

COLOR (cont')

Bone

Links

Ivory

Ceramic

Lip

Lavender

Composite

Neck

Medium Sapphire Blue

Glass

Profile

Mottled

Metal

Rim

Mulberry

Mineral

Seam

Multiple

Organic

Shank

Olive

Shell

Olive ('Black')

Soil

Sole

Olive, Dark

Stone

Spine Catch

Olive, Light

Synthetic

Spine Tip

Orange

Wood

Spring Guard

Pink

Tooth

Polychrome

Top

Red

PART Back Plate

Reddish-Brown

Base

COLOR

Reddish-Orange

Bat

Amber

Silver

Blade

Amethyst

Translucent White

Body

Aqua (Blue)

Turquoise

Bowl

Aqua (Green)

White

Bracket

Black

Yellow

Cap

Blue

Yellow / Cream

Clasp

Blue, Dark

Yellow/Brown

Complete

Blue, Light

Core

Brown

Cup

Brown, Dark

Architectural

End

Buff

Architectural-Exterior

Ewer

Clear Green

Architectural-Interior

Face

Cobalt Blue

Domestic

Finish

Colorless

Electrical

Footring

Copper

Kitchen

Fragment

Cream

Kitchen-Tableware

Handle

Gold

Kitchen-Utilitarian

Head

Gray

Personal

Heel

Green

Personal-Clothing

Kick-Up

Green, 'Black'

Personal-Firearms

FUNCTIONAL CAT.

Lead

Green, Dark

Personal-Hygiene

Leg

Green, Light

Personal-Ornamental

Lens Ring

Green, Lime

Personal-Sewing

Lid

Grey

Personal-Toy

432

MATERIAL

DEC. ELEMENT

DEC. DESIGN (cont')

Bone

12-Sided

Animal

Brass

Bank

Annular

Brick

Bohemian

Architectural

Carbon

Circle(s)

Ball

Cast Iron

Diamond

Band

Cement/Concrete

Diamond(s)

Bar & Anvil Primer

Composite

Dot(s)

Barrel

Copper

English Hobnail

Barrel Design

Cupric Alloy

Excelsior Pattern

BB Cap

Earthenware

Eyelets

beaded Edge

Ferrous Alloy

Feather

Berdan Primer

Glass

Female

Buckshot

Glass, Cobalt

Flower(s)

Bull's Eye & Fluted

Glass, Frosted

Flower(s)

Cable

Glass, Leaded

Hatch Marks

Circular

Glass, Manganese

Hole

Circular Head

Glass, Milk

Interior

Concave

Glass, Soda

Leaves

Cone

Glass, Solarized

Letter(s)

Conical

Glass, Uranium

Line(s)

Conical

Graphite

line(s) (trailed)

Continuous Threads

Lead

Loop

Cork Lined

Leather

Loop(s)

Cylindrical

Marble

'L'-Shape

Dendridic

Mortar

NC Flowers

Diamond Point

Nut

number(s)

Disc

Organic

Person

Dish Shape

Paper

Plant(s)

Dome

Pewter

Prism and Flute

Dome Head

Plaster

Rib(s)

Dome Head / Square Shank

Porcelain

Ribs

Dome Shape

Rubber

Rope

Doughnut-Shaped

Rubber, Gutta-Percha

SC Dispensary

Dumb Bell Shape

Rubber, Hard

SC State Seal

Elixir / Handy

Shell

Sheep

Feather Edge

Slate

Slot

Figure(s)

Soil

Solid

Fish Scale

Steel

Thumb Print

Flat Head

Stoneware

Tick Marks

Flat Rim

Synthetic

Tree(s)

Floral

Terneplate

Weaving

Fluted

Terra Cotta

Willow

Fluted Diamond

Tin

Fluted Oblong

Unidentified Material

DEC. DESIGN

French Square

Unidentified Metal

1 lb

Friction-Ring Groove

Wood

2-Wire

Frozen Charlotte

Zinc

3-Hole

Geometric

433

DEC. DESIGN (cont')

MAN. TECH. (cont')

German Cologne Style

Smooth Back

Glass Liner

Smooth Edge

Cast, Two-Piece Centerfired

Golden Gate Oval

Smooth Rim

Champagne Finish

Gothic Revival

Sphere

Chinese Export Porcelain

Grape

Square

Coarse

Hex

Square Ended

Codd Stopper Finish

Hexagonal

Starburst

Collared Ring Finish

Hump Style

Stippling

Combination

Insignia

Straight

Continuous Threads

Interior

Studded

Crimped

Interior

Sunburst

Crown Cap Finish

Jo-Jo Flask

Table, Medium

Cup-Bottom Mold

Locking

Tapered End

Cup-Seat Mold

Long

Twisted

Cut

L-Shaped Head

Two-Wire

Die Cut

Millville Round

Dip Body Mold

Mushroom

MAN. TECH.

Double Ring Finish

Neck-and-Eye

1-Piece Button

Drilled

Octagonal

2-Piece Button

Exterior (glazed)

Octagonal (Irregular)

Extruded

Opened

3-Part Blow Mold 3-Part Blow Mold w/Dip Body Mold

Finishing Tool

Oriental

3-Part Press Mold

Fired Lip

Ovaloid Head

Agateware

Flared Ring Finish

Panel

Albany Type Slip Glazed

Flat Glass

Panel, 2x2

Alkaline Glazed

Folded

Panel, Square

Applied Lip

Folded Lip Finish

Philadelphia Oval

Automatic Machine, Bottle

Forged

Plain

Back Plated

Gimlet Point

Polygon

Bead Finish

Graniteware

Pressed-Powder Cake

Beaded Finish

Gray Paste Stoneware

Prism

Grooved Ring Finish

Rectangular

Blob-Top Finish Blob-Top, Lightning Stopper Finish

Rectangular/Square

Blow Over Finish

Ground Lip

Ground

Ribbed

Blown in the Mold

Ground Lip, Shoulder Seal

Rosette

Bottom-Hinged Mold (2-Piece)

Ground-Off Pontil

Round

Brandy Finish

Hand Made

Round Base, Square Shoulder

Brandy Finish, Straight

Hand Pressed

Round Cornered Blake

Brazed

Hand Soldered

Round Head

Bristol Glazed

Hand Wrought

Rounded Corners

Brown Paste Stoneware

Hotel Ware Porcelain

Rounded Head

Buff Paste Earthenware

Hutchinson Stopper Finish

'S'

Buff Paste Stoneware

Industrial Porcelain

Salamander Oval

Burned

Infolded Lip

Sauce Style

By-Product

Insulated

Scalloped Edge

Cap-Seat Finish

Interior (glazed)

Scroll

Carved

Iron Oxide Glazed

Seed

Cast

Ironstone

S-Form

Cast, One-Piece

Kaolin / Ball

434

MAN. TECH. (cont')

Key-Wind

Sawn

Yellowware

Knurled

Screw Band

Yellowware, Utilitarian

Laid-On Ring

Sew-Through

Lightning Stopper Finish

Shank Molded 1 Piece

Lipping Tool

Sheared Ring Finish

Long

Sheared Top

Ammunition, Bullet, .32 Caliber

Machine Cut

Short

Ammunition, Bullet, .45 Caliber

Machine Made

Shoulder Seal

Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .22 Caliber

Machine Pressed

Side Seam, Double, Lap

Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .25 Caliber

OBJECT NAMES Ammunition, Bullet, .22 Caliber

Machine Soldered

Side Seam, Single, Lap

Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .32 Caliber

Melted

Silvered (mirror)

Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .38 Caliber

Mineral Finish

Slip Glazed

Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .40 Caliber

Mixed

Small Mouth Ext. Thread Finish

Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .45 Caliber

Molded

Snap Case

Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .45-70 Caliber

Molding Technique Unknown

Soldered

Ammunition, Cartridge Case, Unidentified

Neck Lugs

Solid

Ammunition, Shot, Lead

Neck Wire

Solid Core

Ammunition, Shot, Steel

Other Glazed

Spot Crown

Ammunition, Shotgun Shell, 10 Gauge

Packer Finish

Stacked Ring Finish

Ammunition, Shotgun Shell, 12 Gauge

Parian

Stamped

Ammunition, Shotgun Shell, 14 Gauge

Patent Finish

Stamped End

Architectural, Door Stop

Pearlware

Stranded

Architectural, Brick

Pegged (nail)

Stranded Core

Architectural, Cement / Concrete

Pegged (wood)

Super-Short

Architectural, Glass, Block

Plated

Threaded Finish

Architectural, Glass, Window

Pontil Rod

Threaded Finish (external)

Architectural, Mortar

Post-Bottom Mold

Threaded Finish (internal)

Architectural, Plaster

Prescription Lip Finish

Three-Piece Mold

Architectural, Post

Press-and-Blow Machine

Torpedo Base

Architectural, Sheet Metal

Press Cap Finish

Turn Mold

Architectural, Sheet Metal, Corrugated Iron

Pressed

Two-Piece Mold

Architectural, Tile, Floor / Wall

Pressed Powder

Unglazed

Architectural, Tile, Flooring

Pressed, Hand

Unidentified (UID)

Architectural, Tile, Roofing

Pressed, Machine

UID Ceramic

Architectural, Tile, Roofing, Asphalt

Prosser

UID Color Paste Earthenware

Architectural, Tile, Roofing, Tin

Punched

UID Finish

Architectural, Tile, Siding, Asbestos

Quarried

UID Manufacturing Technique

Architectural, Tile, Siding, Asphalt

Red Paste Earthenware

UID Stoneware

By-Product, Clinker / Slag

Red Paste Stoneware

UID White Paste Earthenware

Clothing, Blueing Agent

Refined Porcelain

Uninsulated

Clothing, Buckle

Reinforced Extract Finish

Unmodified Natural Material

Clothing, Buckle, Belt

Rimfire

White Saltglazed

Clothing, Buckle, Suspender

Ring Finish

Whiteware

Clothing, Buckle, Suspender

Riveted

Wide Mouth Ext. Thread Finish

Clothing, Button

Rockingham / Bennington

Wide Mouth, Applied Lip

Clothing, Button, 2-Hole

Rolled

Wide Prescription Finish

Clothing, Button, 2-Piece

Rolled Rim

Wide Prescription Finish

Clothing, Button, 4-Hole

Salt Glazed

Wire

Clothing, Button, 5-Hole

435

OBJECT NAMES (cont')

Ammunition, Cartridge Case, .45-70 Caliber

Container, Bottle, Condiment, Mustard

Clothing, Button, Collar

Container, Bottle, Condiment, Spice / Extract

Clothing, Button, Collar Snap

Container, Bottle, Cosmetic

Clothing, Button, Drilled-Eye Shank

Container, Bottle, Cosmetic, Perfume/Cologne

Clothing, Button, Loop-Shank

Container, Bottle, Cosmetic, Skin Lightener

Clothing, Button, Military

Container, Bottle, Food

Clothing, Button, Shank Molded

Container, Bottle, Food, Olives

Clothing, Button, Staff-Type

Container, Bottle, Food, Pickles

Clothing, Clip

Container, Bottle, Food, Pickles/Olives

Clothing, Clip, Cuff-Holder

Container, Bottle, Household Cleaner

Clothing, Cuff Link

Container, Bottle, Ink

Clothing, Fastener, Hook-and-Eye

Container, Bottle, Liquor / Whisky

Clothing, Fastener, Hook-and-Eye, Eye

Container, Bottle, Medicinal / Pharmaceutical

Clothing, Fastener, Hook-and-Eye, Hook

Container, Bottle, Milk

Clothing, Grommet

Container, Bottle, Other

Clothing, Hat Pin

Container, Bottle, Soda Pop / Water

Clothing, Rivet

Container, Bottle, Wine

Clothing, Safety Pin

Container, Bucket

Clothing, Shoe

Container, Bucket, Lead/Solder Pot

Clothing, Shoe Horn

Container, Can

Clothing, Shoe, Grommet

Container, Can Tobacco, Snuff

Clothing, Shoe, Sole

Container, Can, Closure

Clothing, Snap

Container, Can, Closure, Removable Lid (non-screw)

Clothing, Straight Pin

Container, Can, Closure, Removable Lid, Screw

Clothing, Zipper

Container, Can, Closure, Removable Lip Lid

Communication, Holder, Pencil

Container, Can, Closure, Wind-Strip

Communication, Pen, Ball-Point

Container, Can, Hole-in-Cap

Communication, Pen, Fountain

Container, Can, Hole-in-Cap, Hand-Soldered

Communication, Pencil, Graphite

Container, Can, Hole-in-Cap, Machine-Soldered

Communication, Pencil, Slate

Container, Can, Hole-in-Top

Communication, Telephone, Receiver Hook

Container, Can, Key

Container, Bottle

Container, Can, Key-Wind

Container, Bottle, Alcohol

Container, Can, Rolled Seam

Container, Bottle, Beer

Container, Can, Sanitary

Container, Bottle, Beverage

Container, Can, Side-Seam, Double

Container, Bottle, Bitters

Container, Can, Side-Seam, Single, Lap

Container, Bottle, Closure

Container, Can, Side-Seam, Single, Soldered

Container, Bottle, Closure, Cork

Container, Can, Square / Rectangular

Container, Bottle, Closure, Crown Cap

Container, Can, Tapered

Container, Bottle, Closure, Lead Seal

Container, Can, Tobacco

Container, Bottle, Closure, Lighting Stopper

Container, Can, Tobacco, Snuff

Container, Bottle, Closure, Peg Stopper

Container, Jar

Container, Bottle, Closure, Press-Fit Cap

Container, Jar, Lid

Container, Bottle, Closure, Screw Cap

Container, Jar, Lid Liner

Container, Bottle, Condiment

Container, Jar, Lid, Preserving

Container, Bottle, Condiment, Iced Tea Tumbler

Container, Jar, Preserving

Container, Bottle, Condiment, Jelly/Mustard Tumbler

Container, Personal

436

OBJECT NAMES (cont')

Container, Personal, Cosmetic / Hygiene

Hardware, Hinge

Container, Vial

Hardware, Hinge, Blind Hinge Hook

Electrical, Battery, Carbon Rod

Hardware, Hinge, Butt

Electrical, Connector

Hardware, Hinge, Butt, Shutter

Electrical, Insulator, Cleat

Hardware, Hinge, Rolled Plate Hinge

Electrical, Insulator, Split Knob

Hardware, Hinge, Strap

Electrical, Wire

Hardware, Hook

Electrical, Wire Connector, Molding

Hardware, Hook, Box Latch

Electrical, Wire, Double Conductor

Hardware, Hook, Box Latch

Electrical, Wire, Quadruple Conductor

Hardware, Hook, Coat-and-Hat

Electrical, Wire, Single Conductor

Hardware, Hook, Cup Hook

Electrical, Wire, Triple Conductor

Hardware, Hook, Eye Hook & Staple

Fauna

Hardware, Hook, Plain

Fauna, Clam Shell

Hardware, Hook, Screw Hook

Fauna, Egg Shell

Hardware, Latch, Barn Door

Fauna, Oyster Shell

Hardware, Lock, Bolt

Fauna, Shell

Hardware, Lock, Case Lock

Flora

Hardware, Lock, Key

Flora, Nut, Pecan

Hardware, Lock, Key, Case Lock

Food Preparation, Baking Dish

Hardware, Lock, Key, Lever Tumbler

Food Preparation, Cooking Pot

Hardware, Lock, Key, Pin Tumbler

Food Preparation, Cooking Pot, Lid

Hardware, Lock, Key, Rim Lock

Furniture

Hardware, Lock, Key, Wafer Tumbler

Furniture, Caster

Hardware, Lock, Lever Tumbler

Furniture, Spring

Hardware, Lock, Padlock

Furniture, Tack

Hardware, Lock, Pin Tumbler

Hardware, Bar

Hardware, Lock, Rim Lock

Hardware, Barbed Wire

Hardware, Lock, Unidentified

Hardware, Barrel Strap

Hardware, Lock, Wafer Tumbler

Hardware, Bolt

Hardware, Nail, Braid

Hardware, Bolt, Carriage

Hardware, Nail, Common

Hardware, Bolt, Counter-Sunk Carriage

Hardware, Nail, Escutcheon Pin

Hardware, Bolt, Eye

Hardware, Nail, Finishing

Hardware, Bolt, Saw

Hardware, Nail, Roofing

Hardware, Bracket

Hardware, Nail, Spike

Hardware, Bracket, Angle

Hardware, Nail, Unidentified

Hardware, Chain

Hardware, Nut

Hardware, Chain, Lap-Link

Hardware, Pull Chain

Hardware, Chain, Link

Hardware, Ring

Hardware, Collar

Hardware, Rod

Hardware, Cotter Pin

Hardware, Scissors

Hardware, Door Knob

Hardware, Screw, Eye-Screw

Hardware, Eye

Hardware, Screw, Metal

Hardware, Handle, Door Pull

Hardware, Screw, Wood

Hardware, Handle, Door Ring

Hardware, Spike

Hardware, Handle, Drawer

Hardware, Spring

Hardware, Handle, Drawer Pull

Hardware, Staple

437

OBJECT NAMES (cont')

Hardware, Staple, Fence

Personal, Pin-Back

Hardware, Stock, Bar

Personal, Pocket Knife

Hardware, Strap

Personal, Pocket Knife, 2-Blades

Hardware, Tack

Personal, Pocket Knife, 3-Blades

Hardware, Tube

Personal, Scissors

Hardware, Unidentified

Personal, Umbrella

Hardware, Washer

Personal, Unidentified

Hardware, Window, Shutter Dog

Personal, Watch, Pocket

Hardware, Wire

Personal, Water Pitcher / Ewer

Hardware, Wire, Bailing

Plumbing, Pipe

Harness Hardware, Horseshoe

Plumbing, Pipe, Fitting

Household Accessory, Candle Stick Holder

Plumbing, Pipe, Fitting, End Cap

Household Accessory, Figurine

Plumbing, Pipe, Fitting, Gas

Household Accessory, Fireplace Tool Stand

Plumbing, Pipe, Fitting, Gas Stove

Household Accessory, Flowerpot

Plumbing, Pipe, Sewer

Household Accessory, Lettering

Religious Item

Household Accessory, Unidentified

Soil Sample

Lighting, Arc, Carbon Rod

Tableware, Bowl

Lighting, Bulb

Tableware, Bowl, Footed-Salt

Lighting, Bulb, Incandescent

Tableware, Bowl, Salt / Sugar

Lighting, Lamp

Tableware, Bowl, Serving

Lighting, Lamp, Chimney

Tableware, Bowl, Tea-Waster

Lighting, Lamp, Globe

Tableware, Cup

Lighting, Lamp, Shade

Tableware, Cup, Tea

Lighting, Unidentified

Tableware, Drinking Glass

Machinery, Gasket

Tableware, Drinking Glass, Goblet

Machinery, Unidentified

Tableware, Drinking Glass, Stemware

Mineral, Coal

Tableware, Drinking Glass, Tumbler

Mineral, Unidentified

Tableware, Flatware

Paper

Tableware, Fork

Paper, Newspaper

Tableware, Fork, 2-Prong

Personal, Bead

Tableware, Fork, 3-Prong

Personal, Bead, Round

Tableware, Fork, Serving

Personal, Bead, Seed

Tableware, Hollowware

Personal, Bead, Tube

Tableware, Knife

Personal, Coin

Tableware, Pitcher

Personal, Comb

Tableware, Plate

Personal, Handbag

Tableware, Plate, Lunch

Personal, Handbag, Clasp

Tableware, Plate, Serving

Personal, Jewelry, Broach

Tableware, Saucer

Personal, Jewelry, Earring

Tableware, Spoon

Personal, Jewelry, Necklace

Tableware, Spoon, Serving

Personal, Jewelry, Pendent

Tableware, Unidentified

Personal, Jewelry, Pendent/Earring

Tableware, Utensil

Personal, Jewelry, Unidentified

Tableware, Vessel

Personal, Jewelry, Wire

Tobacco, Ashtray

Personal, Mirror

Tobacco, Pipe Tobacco, Pipe, Pamplin-Style

438

OBJECT NAMES (cont') Tool, Pliers Tool, Scale, Balance Weight Tool, Screwdriver Toy, Ball Toy, Coin Bank Toy, Doll Toy, Doll, China Head Toy, Figurine Toy, Marble Toy, Tea Set Toy, Unidentified Unidentified, Architectural Unidentified, Ceramic Unidentified, Flat Glass Unidentified, Glass Unidentified, Metal Unidentified, Metal, Disc Unidentified, Metal, Plate Unidentified, Object Unidentified, Sheet Metal Unidentified, Slate Unidentified, Vessel Unidentified, Wood Utilitarian, Bottle / Jug Utilitarian, Bowl Utilitarian, Crock Utilitarian, Hollowware Utilitarian, Jar Utilitarian, Jar / Bottle Utilitarian, Jar / Crock Utilitarian, Vessel

439

APPENDIX C – FAUNAL METHODOLOGY

[This appendix is taken verbatim from “Faunal Report for Mann-Simons (38RD1083)” by Diane Wallman (2010). Additions and/or changes by myself are found within “[ ]” brackets.]

The analysis included the identification and description of 1606 bone fragments (2402.4g). The samples were recovered from the following deposits on the site: Feature 12T, a debris pit associated with a late 19th century lunch counter [actual deposition date is 1909], with two separate depositional strata, “upper” and “lower”; Feature 31C, a circular depression associated with late 19th and early 20th century household refuse [deposition date is between 1892 and 1904]; and Feature 39J, a privy associated with early 20th century household deposition.

Recordation Techniques The faunal remains from the Mann Simons site were analyzed using standard zooarchaeological methods, and all bones were identified to the lowest taxonomic level possible utilizing the comparative faunal collection in the Department of Anthropology at The University of South Carolina, and reference materials including Gilbert (1981, 1990), Olsen (2004), and Sisson (1953). The portion of each identified element is recorded as whole if it is complete; partial if the specimen is almost complete; fragment if it appears

440

broken; and section if the specimen appears cut. When possible, identified elements were sided (left or right), and also aged to a general stage Figure C-1. Standard Retail Beef Cuts (Azizi et al. 1996: 239). *(Numbers next to meat cuts were used for coding.)

(juvenile/immature or adult/mature) based on epiphyseal fusion or tooth eruption. Observable cultural modifications (burning,

Figure C-2. Standard Retail Pork Cuts (Azizi et al. 1996: 239). *(Numbers next to meat cuts were used for coding.)

fracturing, excavation damage) were also recorded for the bones. Based on the urban setting of the site, all food remains identified were likely

Figure C-3. Standard Retail Mutton Cuts (Azizi et al. 1996: locally purchased, acquired 239). *(Numbers next to meat cuts were used for coding.) or raised, in the case of some poultry. Large mammals, then likely represent cattle (Bos taurus), while medium mammals, likely came from pig (Sus scrofa) or sheep/goat (Ovis aries/Capra hircus). These bones likely represent common breeds of each species known for the late 19th

441

century. Common cattle breeds in the 19th Century included Angus, Hereford and Shorthorn, and eventually the Texas Longhorn (Skaggs 1986). Pig breeds in the 19th Century included English Berkshire, Bedford, Byfield and Irish Graziers (Skaggs 1986). Each specimen identified as cattle, pig or sheep/goat was then assigned to a specific retail meat cut as designated by Azizi et al. (1996), associated with standard American butchery techniques utilized for the past 100 years (Figures C-1, C-2, and C-3). Elements identified to species correspond to specific illustrated meat cuts, based on an extended version of Lymanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s (1977) system (Azizi et al. 1996: 211). The illustration of the specific fragment or section of an element is correlated to the retail meat cut it represents (Azizi et al. 1996: 211). This system accounts for the difficulty in linking identifiable fragments to specific meat cuts. Butchering units for beef, for example, contain different portions of the same element (see Tables C-1, C-2, and C-3). In addition, any observable refits or conjoined bones, that is any bones from a single animal that put back together, were recorded in order to better determine the actual number of bones present, as opposed to bone fragments. Both cultural and non-cultural taphonomic processes were assessed in the assemblages, using zooarchaeological methods posited by Lyman (1994). The following attributes were recorded for each specimen: weathering stage and other natural taphonomic processes (Behrensmeyer 1978); presence of carnivore or rodent gnawing (Binford 1981; Lyman 1994b); presence and intensity of burning (Brain 1981; Johnson 1989); and any evidence of butchery (Binford 1981; Crader 1990; Landon 1996), including cutting, chopping, sawing, and any signs of breaking for marrow extraction (i.e. spiral fracturing, impact points).

442

Table C-1. Skeletal Correlates to Cattle Butchering Units Butchering unit Hindshank Round/buttock Rump Loin Sirloin Plate/Brisket Ribs Foreshank Neck Chuck Arm Foot

Skeletal definition Tibia, distal femur, patella, proximal metatarsal Femur shaft Proximal femur, ischium, pubis, acetabulum Lumbar vertebra Ilium, sacrum, sacral vertebra Ventral rib, rib cartilage, sternum, ventral rib Dorsal rib 6-12, thoracic vertebrae 6-12 Radius-ulna, distal humerus, proximal metacarpal Cervical vertebrae, proximal humerus, distal scapula Dorsal rib 1-5, thoracic vertebrae 1-5, humerus shaft, scapula blade Proximal humerus, humerus shaft, distal scapula Metacarpals, tarsals, carpals, phalanges

Table C-2. Skeletal Correlates to Pig Butchering Units Butchering unit Boston Butt Picnic Ham Rib End Spareribs/Side Loin End Ham Shank Ham Hock Foot

Skeletal definition Scapula blade, proximal humerus, cervical vertebra Distal humerus, radius, ulna Dorsal ribs, thoracic vertebra, proximal scapula Mid and ventral ribs Lumbar vertebrae, ilium, sacrum Acetabulum, pubis, ischium, proximal femur and shaft Distal Femur, proximal tibia and shaft Carpals, tarsals Metatarsals, metacarpals, phalanges

Table C-3. Skeletal Correlates to Sheep/Goat Butchering Units Butchering unit Shoulder Rack Loin Butt End Shank End Shank Foot Neck Chuck

Skeletal definition Tibia, distal femur, patella Thoracic vertebra 6-12, dorsal rib 6-12, lumbar vertebrae Lumbar Vertebra Pelvis, sacrum, proximal femur and shaft Distal Femur, proximal tibia and shaft Distal humerus, radius-ulna, tibia, metapodial Carpals/Tarsals, Phalanges Cervical vertebrae Scapula, thoracic vertebrae 1-5, rib 1-5, proximal humerus and shaft

Specimen Identification Techniques Specimens without diagnostic features were assigned to animal size class categories (adapted from Thomas 1969) (Table C-4). Unidentifiable bones were graded

443

by size based on “bone size and thickness” (Schmitt and Lupo 1995: 499). Cattle-size fragments, for example, were classified as Class VI, large mammals. Distinguishing between sheep and goat remains can present significant difficulties to analysts, because the bones are similar in overall size and morphological attributes (Boesneck 1970; Halstead et al. 2002; Payne 1985). It is therefore possible that some bones identified as sheep could in fact represent goat. Even with extensive reference collections, “distinguishing between sheep and goat bones is often not easy” (Boessneck 1970: 358). While publications have presented diagnostic criteria to identify between the two Genera, the criteria rely on the presence of certain bones (Halstead et al. 2000; Payne 1985; Prummel and Frisch 1986). Teeth and mandibles have proved to be the most useful elements for differentiating between sheep and goat (Halstead et al. 2000; Payne 1985). Studies have developed methods for the distinction between these two Genera based on the morphological characteristics of post-cranial skeletal elements (Prummel and Frisch 1986). Despite the fact that many of the ovicaprine remains may in fact represent sheep, they will be categorized as sheep/goat. Additionally, I assessed the relative age of each specimen (after Silver 1963). Relative age was established by the degree of epiphyseal fusion and tooth eruption sequences, the most commonly employed skeletal parts for determining age (Klein and Table C-4. Mammalian Size Classes (after Thomas 1969:393). Class I

Mammals weighing less than 100g., e.g., meadow mouse and pocket gopher.

Class II

Mammals weighing between 100 and 700 g., e.g., squirrel and chipmunk.

Class III

Mammals weighing between 700 g. and 5kg., e.g., cottontail rabbit and marmot.

Class IV

Mammals weighing between 5 and 25 kg., e.g., coyote and bobcat.

Class V

Mammals weighing more than 25kg., e.g., antelope, deer and mountain sheep.

Class VI

Mammals cow size and larger

444

Cruz-Uribe 1984: 41). Aging specimens in an assemblage can provide information on â&#x20AC;&#x153;kill-offâ&#x20AC;? patterns in past animal husbandry systems, and the quality (i.e. the fat content) of the meat purchased (Landon 1996: 96). When epiphyses were present, I recorded the stage of fusion for each specimen identified as cow, pig and sheep. Stages were recorded as fused, unfused, and partially fused, distinguished by the presence of an epiphyseal line or suture. These stages are compared to the relative ages at which specific epiphyses fuse for each animal. Additionally, deciduous teeth and permanent teeth were differentiated to provide a relative age for specimens.

Quantification of Faunal Remains Determining the appropriate unit of quantification for faunal analyses remains a complicated concern within zooarchaeology. The use of the number of identified specimens, or NISP, to quantify faunal remains has received significant criticism (Grayson 1984, Klein and Cruz-Uribe 1984), most importantly for its failure to account for specimen interdependence, because several bone fragments may come from the same element. To account for this problem, many zooarchaeologists calculate the minimum number of individuals, or MNI to determine how many animals are actually represented by the recovered remains. This calculation, however, has also been subject to criticism, as it is known to correlate with sample size, as the larger the number of bones in an assemblage the greater the MNI (Grayson 1984; Lyman 1979: 537, 1994). In historic assemblages, MNI remains a problematic value because people purchase butchering units, not complete animals, with the possible exception of fish and poultry (Lyman 1979, 1987, 1994; Milne and Crabtree 2001). Determining the contribution of various species

445

or of the different cuts to an assemblage, therefore, remains a difficult task, as the butchering units acquired are not always known or consistent. In the past, historical zooarchaeologists calculated the amount of available meat for species, and for meat cuts utilizing bone-weights (Otto 1984) and the amount of usable meat (Lyman 1979). However, bone weight analysis was based on the assumption that the relation between bone and meat weight is linear, which is not accurate (Grayson 1984). Additionally,”bone weights are subject to biases from differential mineralization, leaching, weathering, and preservation” (Lyman 1979: 536). According to Reitz and Wing (2000: 202), specimen weight is rarely used directly to document relative frequency, but is may be used as an estimate for ‘edible’ or ‘usable’ meat. Calculating “usable meat” for each species is a suggested method to account for the amount of meat purchased and consumed (Lyman 1979, 1987). This approach, however, has not been widely applied to historic assemblages and therefore its utility has not been sufficiently tested (Landon 2005: 9). Furthermore, it is necessary to consider size change through time and space when estimating dietary contribution based on weight (Reitz and Wing 2000: 226). The total weight of species with “determinate growth varies because of geographical range, age, sex, season and nutritional condition” (Reitz and Wing 2000: 226). Despite potential problems with this unit of measurement, NISP is the most widely used unit of quantification in zooarchaeology. The features investigated in this study all have similar depositional contexts and the households and businesses who deposited the materials had access to the same types of meat and meat cuts. Furthermore, based on the urban environment, the unit of acquisition for the meat purchased would be

446

individual meat cuts, represented by relatively few bones each in the archaeological record. In consideration of these factors, employing the NISP to calculate relative abundances should provide a sufficient means for comparison between features. For those animals, such as birds, that were likely acquired whole, whether purchased or raised on site, the MNI is calculated. For the evaluation of meat cuts, I calculate a minimum number of meat cuts for cattle, pig and sheep/goat.

Analysis of Meat Cuts To evaluate differences among assemblages with regard to particular meat-cuts, I calculated the minimum number of meat cuts represented within each deposit. For this measure, I determined the minimum number of each meat cut necessary to account for the specimens identified to each cut, accounting for side and age, when possible (based on Lyman 1979, 1987). While it can be useful to classify these cuts by age, the few specimens representing different aged animals within the assemblages does not make this segregation possible.

Ranking of Meat-Cuts Most economic analyses of 19th century historic faunal assemblages is based on the archetypal work of Schulz and Gust (1983), which provides a rank scale for cuts of beef based on estimates of late-19th to early-20th century retail values. In theory, this ranking provides values that analysts can use to interpret the economic status of the â&#x20AC;&#x153;depositing populationâ&#x20AC;? (Schulz and Gust 1983: 12). While this approach has maintained longevity and apparent utility, some have argued that results of analyses based this 447

ranking often do not show socioeconomic influences in assemblages, leading to an elaboration of this model, which has been rarely employed, involving the addition of meat yield to address cost-efficiency (Huelsbeck 1989, 1991; Lyman 1979, 1987). Different methods have been suggested to assess the cost-efficiency of different beef cuts from 19th century sites. Lyman (1987) was one of the first researchers to propose the use of meat yield per cut to use in addition to economic rankings. Using values of both historical price per pound beef cuts and of consumable meat weight for each cut, Lyman (1987) calculated a measure of “cost-efficiency” for beef cuts. This value was meant to provide a more thorough measurement of optimal purchasing decisions by providing the cost per pound of edible meat for each cut. According to the study, “both a high degree of cost-efficiency and optimal foraging are indicated by minimizing costs while maximizing yields” (Lyman 1987: 81). While Lyman’s was an attempt to increase the accuracy of the analysis, the equation was miscalculated. Huelsbeck (1989) revisited Lyman’s measurement of “cost-efficiency” and corrected the error, providing a more effective measure of cost-efficiency based on price per pound and meat yield per cut of beef. What also remains important is that with the correction, “Lyman’s suggested refinement of the interpretive model…is a welcome addition to the suite of techniques available to faunal analysts” (Huelsbeck 1989: 116). According to Huelsbeck’s (1989) calculations, however, this new measure was statistically correlated to Schulz and Gust’s economic ranks, suggesting that these initial ranks do in fact reflect cost-efficiency. In this analysis, I used the Schulz and Gust (1983) beef rankings to determine if cost affected consumer choice, as adapted by Azizi et al. (1996). Azizi et al. developed

448

rankings for beef, pork and mutton cuts based on historical records of retail values and interviews with butchers, which I use for my analysis of meat-cuts (after Pipes 1995, Ubaldi and Crossman 1987).

Summary and Discussion Overall, the faunal remains recovered from Features 12T, 31C and 39J match expectations of late 19th and early 20th century urban deposits. The majority of the food bone remains represent meat from domestic cattle, pig and sheep/goat likely purchased at local markets. While it is possible that the chickens were raised on site, the absence of elements from the cranium or feet within all of the assemblages suggest that these animals were also purchased and not slaughtered on-site. Fish and shellfish remains were relatively uncommon in all of the deposits, which may be a result of recovery methods, as opposed to consumer preference. Further, the deposits contained evidence of commensal animals common within urban areas of the 19th and 20th centuries, specifically rats and cats. When comparing between the features, there are noticeable differences between the patterns of deposition. As Feature 12T, associated with the lunch counter, and Feature 31C, associated with household refuse, were deposited relatively simultaneously, they provide ideal points for comparison between domestic and market consumption. Interestingly, Feature 12T yielded mostly chicken and pork remains, and also contained the only turkey bone. In general, this feature represents a more diverse pattern of consumption, with more species represented. Feature 31C, on the other hand, yielded a high relative abundance of beef, and few avian or chicken remains. This deposit also

449

contained the remains of the head and feet of a sheep/goat, which were highly unmarketable cuts, indicating the possible on-site butchery and/or slaughter of the animal. With regard to meat cuts, none of the assemblages show evidence of meat cut purchases that correlate to price-ranking. Some differences, however, were noticeable among the features analyzed. Feature 12T had the lowest diversity of beef cuts identified, whereas the remains from Feature 31C included cuts from all sections of the animal, with a larger proportion of ‘steak’ cuts, particularly sirloin and round cuts. While the small sample sizes do not allow for robust interpretations of these patterns, the analysis suggests that the food sold at the lunch counter differed considerably from the household consumption of meat at Mann Simons. Due to the small sample size and low proportion of identifiable specimens in Feature 39J, it is necessary to remain cautious of interpreting the results. The remains do suggest, however, a preference for beef, with an increasing focus on individualized portions (or ‘steak cuts’). This may reflect both the shift to the standardization of the meatpacking industry, and a growing trend towards individual portions in urban markets (Landon 1996: 8). This shift was largely due to changes in livestock production and distribution that transformed the options available to the consumer at a local butcher or market in 19th century urban America. Fresh, as opposed to cured, meats would be available year-round, and beef consumption would nearly equal pork consumption in the United States at the turn of the century (Clemen 1993: 211; Harris 1985: 119). While these developments changed what was available, the rise of the meatpacking industry also regulated the butchery of livestock. With some regional variability in butchery

450

throughout North America (Schueren 1927), the rise of the meatpacking industry created a relative standardization of the meat-cuts available to consumers.

References Azizi, Sharla C., Diane Dallal, Mallory A. Gordon, Meta F. Janowitz, Nadia N. S. Maczai, and Marie-Lorraine Pipes. 1996 Analytical Coding System for Historic Period Artifacts. East Orange, NJ: Cultural Resources Group, Louis Berger & Associates, Inc. Behrensmeyer, A. K. 1978 Taphonomic and ecologic information from bone weathering. Paleobiology 4: 150–163. Binford, Lewis 1978 Nunamiut Ethnoarchaeology. New York: Academic Press. 1981

Bones: Ancient Men and Modern Myths. New York: Academic Press.

1984

Faunal Remains from Klasies River Mouth. New York: Academic Press.

Boessneck, J. 1970 Osteological Differences between Sheep (Ovis aries Linne) and Goat (Capra hircus Linne). In Science in Archaeology. Edited by Don Brothwell and Eric Higgs. New York: Praeger Publishers. Bowen, Joanne 1998 To Market, to Market: Animal Husbandry in New England. Historical Archaeology 32(3):137–152. Brain, C.K. 1981 The Hunter’s or the Hunted? An Introduction to African Cave Taphonomy. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Cheek, Charles D. and Amy Friedlander 1990 Pottery and Pig’s Feet: Space and Ethnicity, and Neighborhood in Washington, D.C., 1880-1940. Historical Archaeology 24(1):34-60 Clemen, Rudolf Alexander 1923 The American Livestock and Meat Industry. New York: Ronald Press. Crader, D. C. 1990 Slave Diet at Monticello. American Antiquity. 55(4):690-717.

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DeVoe, Thomas F. 1867 The Market Assistant. New York: Hurd and Houghton. Gilbert, B. Miles 1990 Mammalian Osteology. Springfield: Missouri Archaeological Society. Gilbert, B Miles, Larry D. Martin and Howard G. Savage 1981 Avian Osteology. Laramie: B. Miles Gilbert. Grayson, D. K. 1984 Quantitative Zooarchaeology. Orlando: Academic Press. Halstead, P, P. Collins and V. Isaakidou 2002 Sorting the Sheep from the Goats: Morphological Distinctions between the Mandibles and Mandibular Teeth of Adult Ovis and Capra. Journal of Archaeological Science 29:545-553. Harris, Marvin 1985 Good to Eat: Riddles of Food and Culture. New York: Simon and Schuster. Henry, S. L. 1987 A Chicken in Every Pot: The Urban Subsistence Pattern in Turn-of-theCentury Phoenix, Arizona. In Living in Cities: Current Research in Urban Archaeology, Special Publication No. 5. Society for Historical Archaeology, Edited by E. Staski, pp. 19-28. Ann Arbor: Braun-Brumfield. Huelsbeck, David R. 1989 Zooarchaeological Measures Revisited. Historical Archaeology 23(1):113-17. 1991

Faunal Remains and Consumer Behavior: What Is Being Measured? Historical Archaeology 25(2):62-76.

Johnson, E. 1989 Human modified bones from early southern Plains Sites. In Bone Modification, edited by R. Bonnichsen and M.H. Sorg. Orono: University of Maine Center for the Study of the First Americans. Klein, R. G., and Cruz-Uribe, K. 1984 The Analysis of Animal Bones from Archaeological Sites. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Landon, David B. 1996 Feeding Colonial Boston: A Zooarchaeological Study. Historical Archaeology 30(1).

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Zooarchaeology and Historical Archaeology: Progress and Prospects. Journal of Archaeological Method and Theory 12(1):1-36.

Lyman, R. L. 1977 Analysis of historic faunal remains. Historical Archaeology 11:67–73. 1979

Available meat from faunal remains: A consideration of techniques. American Antiquity 44(3): 536–546.

1984

Bone Density and differential Survivorship of Fossil Classes. Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 3:259-299.

1987

On zooarchaeological measures of socioeconomic position and cost-efficient meat purchases. Historical Archaeology 21(1):58–66.

1994a Quantitative units and terminology in zooarchaeology. American Antiquity 59(1):36–71. 1994b Vertebrate Taphonomy. New York: Cambridge University Press. Milne, C., and Crabtree, P. J. 2001 Prostitutes, a rabbi, and a carpenter - Dinner at the Five Points in the 1830s. Historical Archaeology 35(3): 31–48. Olsen, Stanley J. 2004 Mammal Remains From Archaeological Sites: Part I – Southeastern and Southwestern United States. Cambridge: Peabody Museum, Harvard University. Prummel, W. and Frisch, H.J 1986 A guide for the distinction of species, sex and body side in bones of sheep and goat. Journal of Archaeological Science 13: 567-577. Reitz and Wing 2000 Zooarchaeology. Cambridge University Press. Rothschild, Nan A. and Darlene Balkwill 1993 The Meaning of Change in Urban Faunal Deposits. Historical Archaeology 27(2):71-89. Schueren, Arnold C. 1927 Meat Retailing. New York: Vaughan Company.

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Schmitt, Dave N. and Lupo, Karen D. 1995 On Mammalian Taphonomy, Taxonomic Diversity, and Measuring Subsistence Data in Zooarcheaology. American Antiquity 60(3):496-514. Schulz, Peter D. and Sherri M. Gust 1983 Faunal Remains and Social Status in 19th Century Sacramento. Historical Archaeology 17(1): 44-53. Silver, I. A. 1963 The Ageing of Domestic Animals. In Science in Archaeology, 1st ed., edited by D. Brothwell and E. Hias, pp. 283-302. Thames and Hudson, London. Sisson, Septimus 1953 The Anatomy of the Domestic Animals. Philadelphia: W.B. Saunders Company. Skaggs, Jimmy M. 1986 Prime Cut: Livestock Raising and Meatpacking in the United States, 16071983. College Station: Texas A&M University Press. Thomas, D.H. 1969 Great Basin Hunting Patterns: A Quantitative Method for Treating Faunal Remains. American Antiquity 34:392-401.

454

APPENDIX D â&#x20AC;&#x201C; ARTIFACT CATALOG

A copy of the full artifact catalog of excavations conducted at the Mann-Simons site (38RD1083) is available from Historic Columbia Foundation, Columbia, South Carolina, and the South Carolina Institute of Archaeology and Anthropology, Columbia.

455

APPENDIX E â&#x20AC;&#x201C; SUMMARY OF COLUMBIA CITY DIRECTORY INFORMATION Year

Address

1875-6

60 E Richland

Agnue Jackson

1885

60 E Richland 60 E. Richland

Agnes Jackson C. H. Simmons

B B

Baker Tailor; RJ Palmer

229 N Marion 60 E Richland 71 E Richland

C. H. Simmons J. L. Simons David Jackson

B B B

Tailor; RJ Palmer Mfr. of walking canes, etc. Laborer

58 E Richland 60 E Richland 60 E Richland

J. L. Simons (business) J. L. Simons Agnes Jackson

B B B

Grocer

1403 Richland 1004 Marion

C. H. Simmons J. L. Simons

B B

1904 Marion 1906 Marion 1910 Marion 1912 Marion 1916 Marion 1920 Marion

J. L. Simons Hilliard Giger Anderson Kinard Vacant Mrs. Mary Kelly Wm Crawford Louis Kelly Walton McLarn Vacant J. L. Simons (business) Richard Williams C. H. Simmons Allen Williams J. B. Carroll Mrs. Hellen O'N Watson Rev. Dr. R. C. Reed D. J. Brimm J. Walter

B B B

1886** 1887** 1888

1889** 1890** 1891

1892** 1893** 1894** 1895 1896** 1897** 1898** 1899

1924 Marion 1401 Richland 1403 Richland 1407 Richland 1415 Richland 1419 Richland 1425 Richland 1824 Sumpter

Head of Household

Race*

Spouse

Wid. of William

Tailor; RJ Palmer Grocer

Martha

W W W W B B B B B W W W B

1900** 1901** 1902**

456

Occupation

Grocer

Martha

Grocery

Lizzie

Tailor; RJ Palmer Shoemaker Furniture repair

Tailor; RJ Palmer

Year 1903

1904-5

Address

Head of Household

Race*

1904 Marion

J. L. Simons

1906 Marion

Elizabeth Walling

1910 Marion

Lottie Logan

1912 Marion

Jerry Jennings

1916 Marion

J. B. Carroll

1920 Marion

Wm Crawford

Spouse

Occupation

Martha Dressmaker

Furniture repair

1924 Marion

G. W. Jamison

1401 Richland

J. L. Simons (business)

1403 Richland

Agnes Simons

Cook

C. H. Simmons

Tailor; RJ Palmer

1407 Richland

Allen Williams

Shoemaker

1415 Richland

Mrs. Hellen O'N Watson

1425 Richland

Rev. Dr. Wm McPheeters

1429 Richland

Rev. W. T. Hall

Martha

Grocery

1904 Marion

J. L. Simons

Martha

1906 Marion

Geo. Fraser

Georgianna

1910 Marion

David Stroman

1912 Marion

Hannah Jennings

1916 Marion

Allen Williams

Pearl

1920 Marion

Mrs. M. A. Crawford

Wid. William

1924 Marion

S. G. McConnell

Sallie

Carpenter

1401 Richland

J. L. Simons (business)

Martha

Restaurant

1403 Richland

Thomas Simons

Mary

Waiter

C. H. Simmons

J. L. Simons (business)

Martha

Grocer

Martha

1407 Richland

Driver; Palmetto Ice Co. Laundress Shoemaker

Tailor; RJ Palmer

1415 Richland 1425 Richland 1429 Richland 1906

1904 Marion

J. L. Simons

1906 Marion

Webster Johnson

1910 Marion

C. H. Simmons

1912 Marion

Adam Gray

1916 Marion

Vacant

1920 Marion

Mrs. M. A. Crawford

Amanda

Wid. William

1924 Marion

Claudius B. Dreher

Mamie

Policeman

1401 Richland

J. L. Simons (business)

Martha

Grocer

1403 Richland

Agnes Jackson

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda

Grocer and Tailor

1415 Richland

Mrs. Hellen O'N Watson

Wid. William

1419 Richland

Rev. R. C. Reed

1425 Richland

Rev. W. M. McPheeters

1429 Richland

Rev. W. T. Hall

457

Year 1907-8

1909

1910

Address

Head of Household

Race*

1904 Marion

J. L. Simons

1906 Marion

Jerry Jennings

1910 Marion

C. H. Simmons

1912 Marion

Edward Robinson

1916 Marion

Fannie Tucker

1920 Marion

H. W. Leitzsey

1924 Marion

C. B. Dreher

1401 Richland

J. L. Simons (business)

1403 Richland

Agnes Jackson

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

1415 Richland

Mrs. Hellen O'N Watson

1425 Richland

Rev. W. M. McPheeters

1429 Richland

Rev. W. T. Hall

1904 Marion

J. L. Simons

1906 Marion

Edward Robinson

1910 Marion

C. H. Simmons

1912 Marion

Janie Hills

1916 Marion

W. H. Williamson

1920 Marion

Mrs. M. A. Crawford

1924 Marion

C. B. Dreher

1401 Richland

J. L. Simons (business)

1403 Richland

Richard Williams

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

1415 Richland

Mrs. Hellen O'N Watson

1425 Richland

Rev. W. M. McPheeters

1429 Richland

Rev. W. T. Hall

Spouse

Anna Laundress

Martha

Confectioner Laundress

Anna

Grocer

Cook; Caldwell Hotel

Hattie

1904 Marion

James Cunningham

Ophelia

1906 Marion

Edward Robinson

Carrie

1910 Marion 1912-14 Marion

Richard Smith

J. L. Simons

1912 Marion

J. L. Simons, Jr.

1914 Marion

John Simons (son)

1916 Marion

Vacant

1920 Marion

Mrs. M. A. Crawford

1924 Marion

Claudius B. Dreher

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda

1415 Richland

Mrs. Hellen O'N Watson

1419 Richland

Rev. R. C. Reed

1425 Richland

Rev. W. M. McPheeters

1429 Richland

Rev. W. T. Hall

458

Occupation

Martha

Baker; Riedlinger's Bakery

Barber; T H Pickney

Martha Presser

Grocer and Tailor

Year

Address

1911

1904 Marion

Pelzer Cunningham

1906 Marion

Celia Griffith

1910 Marion

Robert Hill

Bertha

1912 Marion

J. L. Simons

Martha

1912

1913

Head of Household

Race*

Spouse Ophelia

Occupation Porter Laundress Porter

William Simons

1914 Marion

J. L. Simons (business)

Porter

1920 Marion

Wm. Czarnitzki

1924 Marion

J. D. Brown

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda

Grocer

1415 Richland

Mrs. Hellen O'N Watson

1419 Richland

Rev. R. C. Reed

Martha

1425 Richland

Rev. W. M. McPheeters

1904 Marion

Andrew Abney

Elizabeth

Helper; So. Ry.

1910-16

In Course of Construction

1914 Marion

Clay C. Jones

Flora

Mach.; So. C. O. Co.

1920 Marion

Mrs. M. A. Crawford

1924 Marion

J. D. Brown

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

1415 Richland

Mrs. Hellen O'N Watson

1419 Richland

Rev. R. C. Reed

1425 Richland

Rev. W. M. McPheeters

1429 Richland

J. H. Herring

1007 Gervais

J. L. Simons (business)

Martha

1707 Calhoun

J. L. Simons

Martha

1904 Marion

Andrew Abney

1908 Marion

Chandler O. Owen

Leila

Letter Carrier

1912 Marion

Wm D. Clark

Belle

Foreman; So. Cot. O. Co.

1914 Marion

Clay C. Jones

Flora

Mach.; So. C. O. Co.

1920 Marion

Mrs. M. A. Crawford

1924 Marion

J. D. Brown

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda

Grocer

1415 Richland

W. T. Lewis

Maude

Cond.; So. Ry

1419 Richland

Rev. R. C. Reed

1425 Richland

Rev. W. M. McPheeters

1429 Richland

Brvant McBride

1702 Calhoun

Lucius Simons

1704 Calhoun

J. L. Simons

1906 Main

Lucius Simons

459

Grocer

Restaurateur

Martha Restaurateur

Year

Address

1914

1904 Marion

Andrew Abney

1908 Marion

E. J. Jenkins

1912 Marion

R. L. Murrell

1914 Marion

Clay C. Jones

1920 Marion

Mrs. M. A. Crawford

1924 Marion

G. W. Bain

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda

1415 Richland rear 1415 Richland

W. T. Lewis

Agnes Jackson (daughter)

1419 Richland

Rev. R. C. Reed

1425 Richland

A. C. Wolff

1429 Richland

Amos Haltiwanger

1704 Calhoun

J. L. Simons

J. L. Simons, Jr.

Jessie

J. L. Simons (business)

Martha

J. L. Simons, Jr. (bus)

Jessie

Cleaning and Pressing

1904 Marion

Andrew Abney

Elizabeth

Porter

1908 Marion

W. B. Kelly

1912 Marion

M. L. Eudy

1914 Marion

Clay C. Jones

1920 Marion

Mrs. M. A. Crawford

1124 Richland 1915

1916

Head of Household

Race*

Spouse Elizabeth

Occupation Porter

Grocer

Martha Restaurateur

1924 Marion

P. H. Stratton

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda

Grocer

1415 Richland

J. D. Goldson

1419 Richland

Rev. R. C. Reed

1425 Richland

Dr. S. F. Killingsworth

1429 Richland

Amos Haltiwanger

1704 Calhoun

J. L. Simons

Martha

Restaurateur

J. L. Simons, Jr. (res)

Jessie

1912 Main

J. L. Simons (business)

Martha

Restaurateur

1904 Marion

Andrew Abney

1908 Marion

W. B. Kelly

1912 Marion

B. D. Cranshaw

1914 Marion

Clay C. Jones

1920 Marion

Mrs. M. A. Crawford

1924 Marion

P. H. Stratton

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda

Grocer

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda

Grocer

1415 Richland

Vacant

1419 Richland

Rev. R. C. Reed

1425 Richland

S. F. Killingsworth

W Martha

Cane Maker

1429 Richland

Amos Haltiwanger

1704 Calhoun

J. L. Simons

460

Year

Address

1917

1904 Marion

Preston Johnson

1908 Marion

W. B. Kelly

1912 Marion

B. D. Cranshaw

1914 Marion

D. L. Sherrell

1920 Marion

Mrs. M. A. Crawford

1924 Marion

P. H. Stratton

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda

Grocer

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda

Grocer

1415 Richland rear 1415 Richland

V. Z. Burke

Agnes Jackson (daughter)

1419 Richland

Rev. R. C. Reed

1425 Richland

S. F. Killingsworth

1429 Richland

Amos Haltiwanger

1918

1919

Head of Household

Race*

Spouse

Occupation

1704 Calhoun

J. L. Simons

Martha

Cane Maker

1904 Marion

Preston Johnson

Estelle

House cleaner

1908 Marion

W. B. Kelly

1912 Marion

C. E. Newman

1914 Marion

W. C. Putnam

1920 Marion

Wm. Czarnitzki

1924 Marion

P. H. Stratton

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1415 Richland rear 1415 Richland

W. W. Seagle

Annie Jackson

1419 Richland

Rev. R. C. Reed

1421 Richland

John Watson

1425 Richland

Dr. S. F. Killingsworth

1904 Marion

Vacant

1908 Marion

W. B. Kelly

Lula

1912 Marion

C. E. Newman

Lillie

Flagman

1914 Marion

W. C. Putnam

Nannie

Supt.; Adluh Milling Co.

1920 Marion

Wm. E. Czarnitzki

Harry Czarnitzki

dk; Young & Germany

Ovid Czarnitzki

1924 Marion

W. T. Strange

Maggie

Car inspr; So. Ry.

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1415 Richland

W. W. Seagle

1419 Richland

Rev. R. C. Reed

1425 Richland

S. J. Stephens

1429 Richland

Amos Haltiwanger

461

student

Year

Address

1920

1904 Marion

Theo. Washington

1908 Marion

W. B. Kelly

J. O. Langston

J. R. Sellers

1912 Marion 1914 Marion

1921

1922

Head of Household

Race*

C. E. Newman

James Dunning

W. C. Putnam

Spouse

Occupation

Lula

Lillie

W. M. Arant

1920 Marion

Dr. E. P. Derrick

1924 Marion

W. T. Strange

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1415 Richland rear 1415 Richland

W. W. Seagle

Hester Jackson

1419 Richland

Rev. R. C. Reed

1425 Richland

S. J. Stephens

1429 Richland

J. H. Walker

1704 Calhoun

J. L. Simons

Martha

Clerk

1904 Marion

Theo. Washington

Annie

Driver; Bruns & Little

1908 Marion

W. B. Kelly

1912 Marion

J. C. Coleman

1914 Marion

W. C. Putnam

1920 Marion

Dr. E. P. Derrick

1924 Marion

Edward Moritz

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1415 Richland rear 1415 Richland

W. W. Seagle

Hester Jackson

1419 Richland

Rev. R. C. Reed

1425 Richland

S. J. Stephens

1429 Richland

J. H. Walker

1904 Marion

Henry Barnes

1908 Marion

W. B. Kelly

1914 Marion

J. L. Shealy

1920 Marion

Dr. E. P. Derrick

1924 Marion

Edward Moritz

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1419 Richland

Mrs. Julia D. Hinson

1425 Richland

S. J. Stephens

1429 Richland

J. H. Walker

1920 Henderson

J. L. Simons

462

Maggie

Woodcarver

Year 1923-4

1925

1926

1927

Address

Head of Household

Race*

Spouse

Occupation

1904 Marion

Ruff Belton

1908 Marion

W. B. Kelly

1912 Marion

J. C. Coleman

1914 Marion

J. L. Shealy

1920 Marion

Dr. E. P. Derrick

1924 Marion

E. C. Courtney

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1415 Richland

Vacant

1419 Richland

Mrs. Julia D. Hinson

1425 Richland

S. J. Stephens

1429 Richland

J. H. Walker

1904 Marion

Minnie Thompson

1908 Marion

W. B. Kelly

1912 Marion

J. C. Coleman

1914 Marion

J. L. Shealy

1920 Marion

Dr. E. P. Derrick

1924 Marion

F. W. Humphries

Maid

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1415 Richland

R. C. Johnson

1419 Richland

Rev. R. C. Reed

1425 Richland

S. J. Stephens

1429 Richland 1920 Henderson

J. H. Walker

J. L. Simons

Woodcarver

1904 Marion

Minnie Thompson

Maid

1908 Marion

W. B. Kelly

1912 Marion

J. C. Coleman

1914 Marion

J. L. Shealy

1920 Marion

Dr. E. P. Derrick

1924 Marion

Vacant

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

1415 Richland

G. B. Boozer

1419 Richland

T. C. Blencowe

1425 Richland

S. J. Stephens

1429 Richland

J. H. Walker

1904 Marion

Minnie Thompson

1908 Marion

Mrs. L. Kelly

1912 Marion

J. C. Coleman

1914 Marion

Jas. L. Shealy

1920 Marion

Dr. E. P. Derrick

1924 Marion

Vacant

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

1415 Richland 1415 1/2 Richland

G. B. Boozer

Jacobs

1419 Richland

H. W. Jones

1425 Richland

S. J. Stephens

1429 Richland

J. H. Walker

463

Grocer Grocer Furniture repair

Maid

Amanda L.

Grocer Furniture repair

Year

Address

1928

1904 Marion

Minnie Thompson

1908 Marion

Mrs. Lula Kelly

1912 Marion

J. C. Coleman

1914 Marion

W. I. Reames

1920 Marion

M. E. Derrick

1924 Marion

L. W. K. Joyner

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

1415 Richland

G. B. Boozer

1417 Richland

P. J. Jacobs

1419 Richland

T. L. L. Webb

1425 Richland

F. W. Bouknight

1429 Richland

O. L. Keith

1904 Marion

Minnie Thompson

1908 Marion

Mrs. Lula Kelly

1912 Marion

J. C. Coleman

1914 Marion

W. I. Reames

1920 Marion

Homer Derrick

1924 Marion

L. W. K. Joyner

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1415 Richland rear 1415 Richland

Mrs. Addie Harmon

1929

1930

Head of Household

Race*

Spouse

Occupation Maid

Grocer Grocer Furniture repair

Maid

Hester Jackson

Launderer

Joseph Jones

Laborer; Carolina Banking

1417 Richland

Pleasant J. Jacob

1419 Richland

T. L. Lorton Webb

1425 Richland

Saml. J. Stephens

1429 Richland

Oscar L. Keith

1904 Marion

Minnie Thompson

1908 Marion

Mrs. Lula Kelly

1912 Marion

J. C. Coleman

1914 Marion

J. Powell

L. Lawrence

Homer Derrick

1924 Marion

L. W. K. Joyner

1403 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1407 Richland

C. H. Simmons

Amanda L.

Grocer

1415 Richland rear 1415 Richland

Mrs. Addie Harmon

Hester Jackson

1417 Richland

Pleasant J. Jacob

1419 Richland

T. L. Lorton Webb

1425 Richland

Saml. J. Stephens

1429 Richland

Oscar L. Keith

1920 Marion

Maid

Launderer

* "Race" is listed as either Black ('B') or White ('W'), as per the social categories used in the Columbia City Directory. ** Issue not available at the South Caroliniana Library.

464

APPENDIX F â&#x20AC;&#x201C; INTERVIEW CONSENT FORM Mann-Simons Archaeology Project RECORDED INTERVIEW CONSENT FORM

I, _________________________________, hereby grant Jakob Crockett permission to record through mechanical and/or digital means the following interview or oral history for educational and scholarly purposes. The information I agree to share with Jakob Crockett is to be used solely for the purposes of the Mann-Simons Archaeology Project, including but not limited to dissertation work, scholarly publications, educational/scholarly presentations, and publicly-available interpretations at the MannSimons site. I understand that I will be provided with a full transcription of this interview/oral history and that I have the right to edit the content of the interview/oral history prior to any publicly available use. I further understand that I have the right to change my agreement regarding the use of this interview/oral history at any time and that I will inform Jakob Crockett in writing of any such changes. This consent does not preclude any use which I may want to make of the information contained within the recordings. Reproductions of materials will not be given to any non-project staff except in cases where it is useful for protection and preservation purposes. It is desired that the following restrictions be placed on this material:

_____________________________ Date _____________________________ Signature of Interviewee _____________________________ Name (printed)

465