SHA 2013: Plenary Session and Conference Committee

The Belgrave Neighbourhood Centre, on Leicester's 'Golden Mile'

The next SHA conference in Leicester in January 2013 takes the theme of globalization, immigration, and transformation, themes that are central to practice and research in historical and post-medieval archaeology. The conference theme is particularly pertinent for the host city Leicester, a multicultural city that, like many others in the United Kingdom, has been transformed since the middle of the 20th century through its interaction with global networks, particularly immigration from South Asia, Africa, and the Caribbean—a pattern of immigration that reflects the once-global nature of the former British Empire.

These issues of globalization, immigration, and the transformations brought about by those processes, whether that entailed the global spread of European capitalism alongside the expansion of European colonialism, the willing or forced migration of millions of individuals to new homelands, or local, regional, and national transformations across the world, will be explored throughout the conference, and in particular during the Plenary Session.

In keeping with the conference theme, the 2013 plenary session will involve an international panel of speakers, who will present short case studies from their own work, followed by a panel discussion relating these case studies to the conference theme. At the time of writing, the confirmed plenary session participants include Daniel Schávelzon (Patrimonio e Instituto Histórico de la Ciudad de Buenos Aires & University of Buenos Aires), Innocent Pikirayi (University of Pretoria), Jon Prangnell (University of Queensland), Natascha Mehler (University of Vienna), Lt. Cmdr. Somasiri Devendra (Sri Lankan Navy, retired), and Giovanna Vitelli (St. Mary’s College of Maryland); the session will be cochaired by Alasdair Brooks (University of Leicester) and Eleanor Casella (University of Manchester).

Conference Committee
The 2013 Conference Committee will be working hard this year to bring you an enjoyable and stimulating conference in Leicester; you can find out more about the committee members by following the links below. If you have any questions or suggestions, please get in touch with the relevant committee member.

Conference Chairs: Audrey Horning (Queens University Belfast); Sarah Tarlow, (University of Leicester)
Program Chair: Alasdair Brooks (University of Leicester)
Terrestrial Chairs: Audrey Horning (Queens University Belfast); Craig Cipolla (University of Leicester)
Underwater Chair: Colin Breen (University of Ulster)
Underwater Program Committee: Joe Flatman (Institute of Archaeology, UCL)
Local Arrangements Chair: Ruth Young (University of Leicester)
Trips, Tours, and Visits Chairs: Marilyn Palmer (University of Leicester); Chris King (University of Nottingham)
Public Event Chairs: Debbie Miles-Williams; Richard Thomas (both University of Leicester)
Social Media: Emma Dwyer (University of Leicester)
Volunteer Coordinator: Sarah Newstead (University of Leicester)
Publicity: Ralph Mills
Roundtables: Deirdre O’Sullivan (University of Leicester)
Workshops: Carl Carlson-Drexler

[CC BY-NC-SA 2.0] via Flickr


Host a Workshop in Leicester!

Are you a specialist in conservation, mapping, or some other archaeological technique or topic? Would you like to show your colleagues what your specialty could bring to archaeological research? If so, perhaps you should consider hosting a workshop at an upcoming SHA conference.

Workshops are a great way to get a small number of people in a room for a day-long (or half-day-long, if you prefer) educational session. You get great one-on-one time with your participants, without the more substantial commitment of teaching a full class.

Each year, on the Wednesday before the conference kicks off, the SHA hosts a slate of workshops aimed at professional development. These have ranged in recent years from archaeological illustration to documentary filmmaking and from preserving underwater heritage to disaster planning for archaeological collections. We will, of course, be hosting workshops again in Leicester. While some workshops take place year-to-year, we always are interested in seeing new ones develop.

Consider this a solicitation for workshop ideas. If you have something you have been mulling, or would like to sound out an idea, please contact me at cdrexler@uark.edu to get the ball rolling. Also, feel free to use the comment section below, or other social media sites such as Twitter or Facebook to generate interest!

Carl Drexler, Continuing Education Coordinator
Academic and Professional Training Committee of the SHA


SHA 2013: Preliminary Call for Papers

SHA 2013: 46th Annual Conference on Historical and Underwater Archaeology
University of Leicester, Leicester, United Kingdom
January 9–12, 2013

 

The preliminary Call for Papers for the SHA 2013 conference in Leicester is now available to download on the conference webpage, and will also appear in the Spring 2012 issue of the SHA newsletter. Call for papers officially opens on May 1, and closes on July 10, 2012.

Globalization, immigration, and transformation

Leicester is a multicultural city that has been transformed since the middle of the 20th century through its interaction with global networks, particularly immigration from South Asia, Africa, and the Caribbean – a pattern of immigration that reflects the once-global nature of the former British Empire.

These issues of globalization, immigration, and the transformations brought about by those processes are central to historical and post-medieval archaeology, whether they entail the global spread of European capitalism alongside the expansion of European colonialism, the willing or forced migration of millions of individuals from their original continents to new homelands, and the local, regional, and national transformations (both within Europe and across the world) brought about by all of these processes. The 2013 Conference Committee particularly welcomes submissions that relate to these themes.

"Muro Occidentale o del Pianto" (Western Wall or Wailing Wall) by Fabio Mauri (1993)

General Information

The SHA 2013 Conference Committee hopes to encourage flexibility in the types of sessions offered.Contributions can take the form of:

* Individual papers. Papers are presentations including theoretical, methodological, or data information that synthesise broad regional or topical subjects based on completed research; focus on research currently in progress; or discuss the findings of completed small-scale studies.

* Posters and Media Displays. Free-standing, mounted exhibits with text and graphics, audio and film, etc. illustrating ongoing or completed research.

* Formal symposia. These consist of four or more papers organised around a central theme, region or project.

* Electronic symposia. These have the same basic structure as a traditional formal symposium; however completed papers are posted on the SHA website well before the conference, and individuals who plan to attend the symposium can then read the papers in advance. At the symposium participants give very brief summaries of their paper, the bulk of the symposium consisting of a discussion among the presenters and audience. Anyone interested in making use of the electronic symposium format must contact the Program Chair, Alasdair Brooks, <amb72@le.ac.uk>, by 1st July 2012, for further details and suggestions.

* Panel discussions. These are less structured gatherings, typically between one-and-a-half and three hours in length, organised around a discussion topic to be addressed by an invited panel and seeking to engage the audience.

* Three-minute forums. These are informal – but still academic – discussion groups consisting of a number of rapid three-minute presentations followed by a discussion, and were successfully used at the previous SHA conferences in Austin and Baltimore. Typically these sessions last for at least an hour and consist of blocks of four or five very short presentations, followed by 10 – 15 minutes of Q and A discussion on the papers that have just been presented.

Each session organiser may organise the time within each session as they wish. Sessions may contain any combination of papers, discussants, and/or group discussion.

If you have an idea for a session, and would like to attract paper contributions by advertising it on this blog, email Emma Dwyer: <ed108@le.ac.uk>.

You will be able to submit your session and paper proposals online via the SHA website from 1st May, and submission will close on 10th July. So do start thinking about organising a session, presenting a paper, bringing along a poster or other media display, holding a round table lunch discussion, participating in a debate…

CC BY-NC-SA 2.0 via Flickr


Digging our own graves? A suggested focus for introducing archaeology to new audiences

 As an Outreach Coordinator for the Florida Public Archaeology Network, I often get to work with elementary school students, bringing archaeology activities and presentations into classrooms all over northeast Florida.  I see this as a great privilege—I love helping

Students classify artifacts found on a site-on-a-tarp activity. (Courtesy of Florida Public Archaeology Network)

students discover a new lens through which to view the world and the past.  However, I also recognize that with that great joy comes a serious responsibility: I must strive to spark imagination and interest, but also convey a need to cherish and protect archaeological resources.  My end goal in working with students, or anyone newly interested in our field, is not simply to fascinate them with amazing trinkets that can be pulled from the past into the present at the blade of a shovel.  I strive to help them become invested in archaeological resources on the whole as a means of understanding people and cultures of the past.

I have limited time in any given classroom, typically an hour or less to imbue students with knowledge and concern for cultural resources.  In that time I endeavor to introduce principles of archaeology, promote some understanding of methods and resources, and foster a value for past and the way archaeologists study it.  This is no small task, and I certainly have adapted my strategies and script in response to feedback from students.  Over time, I have found one activity to be ideally suited to this purpose, particularly when I only get to see a class once.  Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

"Shovel testing" on a pb and j site. (Courtesy of the Florida Public Archaeology Network)

This may not be anything brand new to you.  I know the lesson has been around for a while, and I certainly don’t claim it as my own invention.  PB&J works for my purposes because it lets me focus on those priorities listed above.  Artifact show-and-tells may be the rock star of public archaeology from an outsider’s perspective.  But to me leading with artifacts, from a preservation and protection standpoint, is leading with the chin.  Peanut butter and jelly lets me lead with the dirt.

A fully excavated pb&j revealing layers of occupation, features, stratigraphy, & artifacts. Photo courtesy of the Florida Public Archaeology Network.

For those who have no idea what PB&J can do aside from providing quick nutrition in the field, it’s also a lesson in which participants make, then systematically excavate, a sandwich.  The lesson can be complex, but may be simplified if necessary; the original version suggests three layers of bread, raisins arranged in the middle as fire pits, and small candies for artifacts. When the sandwich is complete, students become archaeologists and apply field methods, if methods writ small.  They conduct a visual “walking” survey, shovel testing (with straws), and finally open up a “unit,” selecting a quadrant of the sandwich based on shovel tests and removing the top layer of bread—our top soil.  The lesson ends with a brilliant analogy, likening unmitigated construction and looting with putting the sandwich in a blender.

I don’t mean simply to sing the praises of PB&J, but to encourage deliberation on how we strive to expose the public,school-age or older, to archaeology and preservation.  Certainly, activities that engage hands as well as minds have proven effective for creating thorough engagement with the material and memorable understanding.  We have even used this lesson in teacher workshops to provide a baseline of understanding, and find that adults are as enthralled with the process as children, regardless of how sticky it may get.

Let's not kid ourselves--grownups LOVE to learn by playing, just like kids. (Courtesy of the Florida Public Archaeology Network)

Fun and sugar highs aside, it is critical to consider what we give the public to hold onto about the discipline of archaeology.  If we lead with our chin, sites and resources will continue to take a beating.  However, if we find ways to share the wonder of the soil itself, we provide a more accurate understanding of cultural resources and have a better chance of fostering concern for sites as a whole.  We may tell ourselves that it’s tough to understand, that the lay public will be disinterested, but I don’t find that entirely fair.  If we can enjoy the secrets in the soil, why couldn’t others?

Get the original PB&J lesson here, or find FPAN’s Florida-friendly version here.

What types of lessons do you use for teaching students about archaeological methods? How do you encourage the public to become good stewards of the past? Have you used the PB&J lesson?

 


SHA 2013: The University of Leicester

The Engineering Building, Attenborough Tower, and Charles Wilson Building at the University of Leicester

In contrast to many of SHA’s previous conferences, much of the 2013 conference program, including the opening reception, public archaeology events, plenary and academic sessions, will take place outside the confines of a hotel, on the campus of the University of Leicester.

The Royal Charter that created the University of Leicester was granted in 1957, but the university inhabits a much older site. The university’s principal building was constructed in 1837 as the Leicestershire and Rutland Lunatic Asylum (which will be the subject of a separate blog post later in the year). The asylum was closed in 1907 and the building remained vacant until the outbreak of the First World War, when the building as put to use as the 5th Northern General Military Hospital, for the treatment of soldiers injured at the Western Front.

The Fielding Johnson Building, formerly the Leicestershire and Rutland Lunatic Asylum

After the war the building and grounds were purchased by Thomas Fielding Johnson (1828-1921), a local businessman and philanthropist, and presented to Leicester Council for the establishment of a University College, which would act as a living memorial  to those who lost their lives in the First World War. This is still reflected in the University’s motto Ut Vitam Habeant – ‘so that they may have life’.

In 1957 the University College became a University in its own right, and was able to award its own degrees, rather than the external degrees of the University of London. The establishment of the University can be seen in the context of the expansion of the provision of education in Britain after the Second World War; secondary (post-11) education was reformed, and government funding for colleges and universities was increased. Like most other British towns and cities, Leicester saw an increased demand for university education. The need for more teaching and research space on the campus saw something of a building spree, and some of the most prominent architects of the time were commissioned to design new facilities. Adrian Jones and Chris Matthews, blogging as ‘Jones the Planner‘, have written an assessment of the architecture of Leicester University here.

Charles Wilson Building

Sir Denys Lasdun was a leading figure among the ‘brutalist’ school of architects; his most famous work is the National Theatre in London. In 1961 he was commissioned to design an iconic building for the University of Leicester, initially conceived as a six-storey structure. Additional funding during construction led to the addition of a further four storeys before completion in 1966, resulting in the building’s unique shape.

Attenborough Tower and Seminar Block

Eighteen stories tall and perched on top of one of the few significant hills in the City of Leicester, the Attenborough Tower can be seen from miles away and the views from its top floor (currently used as offices for the School of Archaeology and Ancient History’s research students) are spectacular, extending far into the county. Originally planned as the first of three towers, the Attenborough was designed by Arup Associates and opened in 1970. It is named after Frederick Attenborough (1887-1973), Principal of the University College from 1931 to 1951, who lived on campus with his family, including his famous sons David and Richard. The Attenborough Tower contains one of the last working paternoster lifts in Britain (although delegates should note that the paternoster is not a toy!).

The Engineering Building

Designed in 1959 and constructed in 1963, the Department of Engineering is probably the most distinctive and famous building on campus and is Grade II* listed. It was designed by James Stirling (after whom the Stirling Prize for Architecture is named) and James Gowan as part of the ‘New Brutalist’ school of architecture. Since then, scores of articles and at least one book have been written about the Engineering Building and in 2008 the Daily Telegraph included it in a list of ‘the 50 most inspiring buildings in Britain’, calling Stirling and Gowan’s unique design “a declaration of war against the predominant culture of dour functionalism.”

[Image 1 CC BY-SA 3.0 Via Wikimedia Commons] [Image 2 CC BY-NC-SA 2.0 Via Flickr]

More Teaching Moments: National Geographic Television’s “Diggers”

Yesterday SHA sent a letter to Spike TV about their upcoming series American Diggers, and today we sent a letter to the National Geographic Television show Diggers, which also recovers archaeological artifacts to be sold.  Diggers is especially demoralizing since it airs on National Geographic Television and carries with it much of the scholarly respect that the National Geographic Society has earned over more than 120 years.  National Geographic has profoundly shaped how many of us view archaeology and cultural diversity, and some of the most astounding archaeology sites in the world have been excavated with National Geographic support.  Diggers follows the exploits of an American treasure-hunting firm that markets “awesome and bizarre metal detecting videos” and devotes most of its time to historic resources recovered in metal detector surveys.  The show promises that “Unless you’re in a coma, it’s almost impossible to find treasure hunting … anything less than exhilarating. Many of you know first-hand the rush of unearthing a silver coin, badge, ring, or other relic dating back to the gun-slinging glory days of the Wild West.”  Of course archaeologists do know the excitement of discovery, but we also appreciate that it is a complex process that carries on long after an object is recovered, includes a lot of objects that might not initially seem very interesting at all, and requires a broad range of skills to tell a powerful story.

These shows are disappointing, but we can continue to approach them as teaching moments and acknowledge that even thoughtful viewers may not immediately grasp the ethical shortcomings of such methods or understand what they risk losing in the hands of a haphazard metal detector survey.  We do not need to surrender our preservation ethics or scholarly rigor, and while we may not transform everybody we can reach many thoughtful people who respect precise fieldwork, community scholarship, and responsible preservation.  Lets hope that we can enlist the National Geographic Society in that cause as they receive letters from SHA, the Society for American Archaeology, the Archaeological Institute of America (AIA), the National Association of State Archaeologists (NASA), the Register of Professional Archaeologists (RPA), the Council for Northeast Historical Archaeology (CNEHA), and a flood of grassroots resistance including online petitions and blogs that reach far beyond narrowly defined professional circles alone.

The Montana State Archaeologist and State Historic Preservation Officer responded on March 6th to the February 28th episode that was filmed at Montana’s National Register-listed Old Territorial Prison.  They concluded the episode violated state law because the show did not secure a State Antiquities Permit.


The Ethics of Historical Archaeology

Virtually all historical archaeologists are fascinated by seemingly prosaic things like ceramics, bones, and buttons because we know that such objects provide historical stories that might otherwise pass completely unnoticed. Consequently, it is gratifying and not surprising that lots of people who are not professional archaeologists become committed and reflective avocational archaeologists or are simply fascinated by heritage and respect the complicated process of piecing together archaeological narratives.  Nearly all of us with relatively active projects have dedicated local volunteers, supportive communities, and streams of visitors who share our own fascination with archaeology and heritage, because archaeological excavations and interpretation are an exciting process of thoughtfully weaving together remarkable stories based on the most modest items.

It is not at all surprising that archaeology and material heritage would find its way into popular culture, and some television shows, magazines, and web pages have done exceptionally thoughtful presentations of archaeology.  Nevertheless, with that popularity there inevitably will be some popular interpretations of archaeology, preservation, heritage and value that archaeologists will resist because they break with our most fundamental ethics.  The most recent challenge comes from Spike TV’s American Diggers, hosted by former professional wrestler Ric Savage.  Like many professional and avocational archaeologists alike, Savage indicates that “I’ve been a history buff my whole life,” but in the hands of Spike TV that interest in history demonstrates no real respect for archaeological methods, community heritage, or preservation law, since the show’s central goal is to recover items that amateur “diggers” can sell.  In Spike’s own words, “In the US, there are millions of historical relics buried in backyards just waiting to be discovered and turned into profit.  `American Digger’ hopes to claim a piece of that pie as the series travels to a different city each week, including Detroit, MI, Brooklyn, NY, Chicago, IL and Jamestown, VA searching for high-value artifacts and relics, some of which have been untouched for centuries.”  The show proudly proclaims that “After pinpointing historical locations such as Civil War and Revolutionary War battlefields, Savage’s first task is to convince reluctant homeowners to let his team dig up their property using state-of-the-art metal detectors and heavy-duty excavation equipment.  The team will then sell any artifacts found for a substantial profit by consulting experts and scouring the antique and collectible markets, but not before negotiating a deal to divide the revenue with the property owners.”

The show has been greeted by a host of archaeological voices who recognize such work as indiscriminate looting of our collective heritage, a heritage that archaeologists professionally document so those materials and stories are preserved for all of us.  We may not transform Spike TV’s shallow interest in simply presenting profitable “larger than life character” shows, but many thoughtful people may not initially recognize the dilemmas of Savage’s ambition to excavate the “hidden treasure found in the back yards of every day Americans.”  It is those audiences who share our interest in documenting and preserving history for generations to come that we need to reach.  We need to recognize that this is a potential “teaching moment” in which we can inform more people about historical archaeology and encourage a more responsible preservation ethic among the many people who are excited by heritage and materiality.

Savage transparently caricatures historical archaeologists and paints himself as a sort of working-class self-taught scholar with whom his audience of homeowners and history buffs should identify, revealing that he does not know any archaeologists or know much about what we do.  He told the St Augustine Record that “’Diggers are looked on as the trailer trash of the archaeology community and the archaeologists are thought of as the brains, but that’s not necessarily the truth,’ Savage said. `The higher the education people get, the higher the snobbishness that goes along with it.’”  Of course many historical archaeologists have exceptional community-based excavation teams staffed by volunteers committed to their local history, and many volunteers routinely become solid scholars with a genuine understanding of and appreciation for archaeological method and interpretation.

Savage clumsily suggests that he is protecting a past that will disintegrate if we do not recover it now.  When Savage descended on St. Augustine in February he said that “diggers are able to recover relics `that are rotting in the ground and (would) never be found’ as archaeologists wait for grants or for construction to trigger an excavation.”  Of course virtually no artifacts are “rotting” in the ground, least of all the metal artifacts on which Savage focuses his excavations.  If anything, removing those artifacts from a stable soil matrix accelerates their decomposition.

Archaeologists have always rejected commercial exploitation of archaeological resources, and professionals do not seek to “convince reluctant homeowners” to excavate saleable things from their otherwise preserved property, much less encourage people to excavate on and around historic sites like Jamestown or Civil War battlefields that are legally protected.  Professional and avocational archaeologists alike have always strongly resisted commercial exploitation of archaeological sites, and selling the products of his digs are Savage’s fundamental goal.  It is unclear what other artifacts with no real commercial value—scatters of clothing snaps, broken plates, splintered marbles—were found in Savage’s digs or what happened to them, but of course those things that cannot be sold are what fill most historic archaeological collections.

St. Augustine has been the scene of exceptional archaeological scholarship on some of the very earliest European immigrants to the New World, so it is especially distressing that some of this rare material might be lost to somebody digging haphazardly in search of the purported “gold nugget” Savage suggests he recovered in St. Augustine in February.  Kathleen Deagan provided a thoughtful response to the St. Augustine Record based on over 40 years of her own archaeological research in the city, and local avocational and professional archaeologists have responded rapidly and thoughtfully.  The city’s archaeology project has done an outstanding job documenting the city’s earliest European occupation and even earlier prehistoric settlement because St. Augustine has committed itself to preservation.

American Diggers professes to share our concern for documenting national and international heritage, but it actually appears to promote the destruction of that heritage.  It simply finds and plunders the past and fundamentally misrepresents and misunderstands archaeological research, preservation law, and the community heritage that we all aspire to protect.

I have attached SHA’s letter to Spike, which also went to its production company and the Executive and Senior Vice-Presidents in charge of original series at Spike. You may view it here.

 


Race and the SHA

It is common for us to feel invigorated by the annual conference, after hearing great papers, discussing innovative ideas, renewing relationships, and embracing a new resolve to do the work of making SHA a better organization that we all be proud of. Although our poster wasn’t officially sponsored by the Gender and Minority Affairs Committee (GMAC) (they helped to inspire it), Cheryl LaRoche and I presented on “Race and the Society for Historical Archaeology (SHA): Steps Toward Claiming an Anti-Racist Institutional Identity.” It generated considerable interest, raised important issues, and will serve to support the board’s decision to embark on anti-racism training, for which they should be commended. The board’s commitment to doing this work is a bold step in an important direction that can truly transform our organization and make it more inclusive.

What follows is the text of our poster, a considerably condensed version of an essay we contributed to the Winter 2012 issue of the Newsletter.

Archaeology and Racial Hierarchy

Archaeologists know that racial hierarchy structures the material world, yet we have seldom considered how white privilege influences our practice.

The Whiteness of the SHA

White men created the SHA and structured it to meet their needs as members of white society. This is reflected in its personnel, programs, constituency, and mission, and the ways historical archaeologists are trained in the academy.

Racial Socialization

We all have been socialized in a racist society and consequently carry and perpetuate attitudes of either internalized racial oppression or internalized racial superiority. This socialization process serves to maintain racial hierarchy.

Transforming the Discipline

We can effectively address the racial disparities in our profession and begin to claim and put into practice an anti-racist organizational identity by examining the way we recruit students, foster their development, and inculcate academic values. In order to transform the SHA into a truly diverse and welcoming organization we must address the barriers to access that continue to maintain our organization’s white, male, heterosexual, and middle class membership and principles.

Our Collective Responsibility

The mission of seeking diversity involves all historical archaeologists and should be our collective goal as we work to transform our field and our organization in an effort to claim an anti-racist institutional identity.


Knowing What We Don’t Know: Challenging the Conventional Narrative in Search of Virginia’s Colonial Plantation Landscapes

For all that archaeologists and historians have learned from studying plantations in southeastern Virginia, there is a remarkable amount we still do not know. Much of this gap exists under the guise of things we think we know. Have any of us seen the archaeological footprint of a 17th-century tobacco press, corn-crib or stable? What about a dock or warehouse? Do we know where and how these buildings were built, how they “fit” within the plantation’s landscape? If we accept that plantations essentially operated as small towns, complete with systems of roads, quarters, agricultural buildings, fields, docks, and manor houses, and often complemented with mills, manufacturing enterprises, and formal gardens, how do we explain why a region so densely populated with historical archaeologists and so inherently connected with the history of colonial America has made so little progress in understanding the majority of this landscape?

Figure 1: The Manor home at Fairfield Plantation (courtesy of the Virginia Historical Society).

In 2000, we started the Fairfield Foundation, a not-for-profit dedicated to archaeological research and public outreach at Fairfield Plantation in Gloucester County on Virginia’s Middle Peninsula. Our first priority was a shovel test pit (STP) survey of nearly 60 acres of agricultural fields and forest surrounding the manor house ruins and adjacent Carters Creek, a tributary of the York River. The goal of the survey wasn’t to confront inadequacies in the study of plantation landscapes; we simply thought it was the best way to begin understanding this historic plantation that we knew nothing about. Over the subsequent 10 years of extensive sampling and focused excavations on the manor house, nearby quarters, and the spaces in between, these 1,500+ STPs remain the basis for interpreting this complex and constantly changing landscape, challenging us to rethink how we study plantations and their inhabitants. Shovel testing is not glamorous, but it is a quick and proven method for large-scale site study, looking more objectively at a landscape without preconceptions of the ‘best’ places to dig. We by no means planned to ignore the ruins of the 1694 manor house (Figure 1), an architectural enigma that had fascinated researchers since the early 20th century; we just assumed that anyone would begin with the large-scale survey if they could. But in searching for comparable, systematic plantation surveys in our region, we realized how rare it was for archaeologists to look beyond the 10 or 20 acres surrounding the manor house.

When archaeologists and historians study these landscapes – particularly how and why they changed over time – most fill in their knowledge gaps with primary documents from later periods projected backwards, with over-used generalizations from rare contemporary documents, and, most often, with assumptions based on little historical or archaeological evidence. These interpretations aren’t necessarily wrong, but they are often based on logical suppositions of how we, in the present, think those in the past would have acted. There is limited evidence to shed light on these  under studied elements of the plantation landscape, and, as a whole, scholars have had little interest in researching them. What we have found, though, is that at Fairfield Plantation (and perhaps elsewhere) these elements reveal the physical evidence for one of the most important periods in the region’s history: the transition from tobacco monoculture to mixed grains and the dramatic and contemporary reorganization of space (See Figure 2). Unfortunately, increasing suburbanization and large-scale development are severely limiting future opportunities to look into plantation landscapes and, with some notable exceptions, few archaeologists are stepping up to the challenge.

Figure 2: STP survey at Fairfield Plantation has demonstrated a changing landscape through four phases from the 17th through 19th centuries. (Figure courtesy of Fairfield Foundation).

Despite widespread development, southeastern Virginia maintains the historical association with plantations and agriculture that defined it for much of the last four centuries. This past is marketed as an invaluable asset to the local economy, and promulgated by many interested residents and descendants. Images of plantations across the tidewater are a vital part of the region’s local identity and the face it promotes to the rest of the state and country. We know that a large 18th-century brick building and terraced garden, surrounding agricultural fields, and occasional barn or slave quarter can each give solitary testimony to our region’s storied past, but these are inherently incomplete and misleading images of plantation life. We cannot expect historic house owners, house museums, and budget-constrained localities, dependent on limited tourist revenue and mired within the prevailing paradigms of plantation interpretation, to push a program of intensive study of the development of the region’s historic landscape. But we, as archaeologists, need to do a better job to confront the wide gaps in our knowledge, to look broadly at landscapes and time, to embrace the 19th century and not just the colonial, and to deal with misconceptions, prejudices, and myths harbored by the public about plantation history. It is our responsibility to better explore the development of these landscapes to fill in the gaps that assumptions have bridged for far too long before the continued development of our region leaves us with only relatively small historic islands surrounding the manor houses of dead rich white men and their families.

Don’t get us wrong – we strongly believe that historical archaeologists have contributed significantly to a greater understanding of the development of specific elements of plantations. We’d like to think that a more comprehensive view of the larger plantation acreage, beyond the manor house, the individual quarters, and the formal gardens, has been as much an essential priority for the many archaeology-focused organizations (private and public) in Virginia as it is for researchers of sugar plantations in Barbados, coffee plantations in Jamaica, or even provisioning plantations in New York and Massachusetts. But looking at the body of research in our region, we realized that despite having seen more projects on plantations than perhaps any other part of the world, systematic plantation surveys numbered exactly two: Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello, and his retreat house, Poplar Forest. Various systematic surveys were undertaken in the 1970s and 1980s (Carter’s Grove in James City County and Stratford Hall in Westmoreland County to name two), but these and a handful of others were seldom written up, the data left inaccessible due to time and funding constraints. Other surveys are still trapped in the grey literature, the scope of work and research designs limited by the priorities of clients and the Section 106 process. Some of our most recognizable plantations, including George Washington’s Mount Vernon, are already islands within a sea of development, but still look in the backyards of their neighbors to recover what they can (Pogue 1988; Pecoraro and Cole 2012). Despite recent trends focusing on plantation gardens and the yard areas around domestic spaces, there remains a very real preference by many archaeologists to focus on individual buildings and activity areas associated with abundant material culture and architectural evidence, because these permit a level of detailed interpretation that seems to pay more dividends than digging several hundred STPs or studying difficult to recognize extant landscape features. In a time of limited funding and a growing curation crisis of previously excavated materials, we’d like to think an approach that better serves preservation of cultural landscapes through their holistic (yet less obtrusive) study would appeal to the community of historical archaeologists.

We’re uncertain whether most scholars in our region will expand their gaze beyond the immediate surroundings of a plantation’s remarkable manor homes, nearby ancillary buildings, and quarters, yet we contend that this expansion is absolutely necessary. While these plantation elements are legitimate research foci, and will always provide new information, they did not exist in a vacuum. To know the manor house we must know the quarter; to understand the gardens we must investigate the fields. How can we expect to decipher how warehouses, docks, and barns functioned within the landscape without mapping the roads, fencelines, and field divisions? Do we understand the complicated interplay between plantation and town, or between manor house, court house, and house of worship? Are we satisfied assuming the public, and funding organizations, believe our time is best spent on the search for “cool things” rather than “cool ideas”? Or do we engage with modern residents and descendant communities to add depth and nuance to our research, confront misunderstandings and misrepresentations of the past, and demonstrate the full potential of the discipline to contribute to a better understanding of the past? As recent blog posts on this site have proven, historical archaeologists of other regions have succeeded in these endeavors. The realization that there is much that we do not know, concerning subjects long thought already decided or relatively unimportant, will lead to a broader challenging of the historical narrative and a greater role for historical archaeology in understanding our shared pasts.

Update 2/27/2012

We are encouraged by the response to the blog we posted on February 22nd and are happy to report that, because of this post, we have been contacted regarding additional plantation surveys in our region beyond those we listed. These include the 500-acres surrounding Mount Vernon, the National Park Service’s acreage at George Washington’s Birthplace National Monument, the Lee family plantation at Stratford Hall, and the plantations on Jamestown Island. Many of these are used as internal planning documents, influencing excavation strategies and site development.  Others, by necessity, remain out of public access due to concerns over site preservation. This is not to say that the authors are not encouraging of their use in research by those studying and interpreting plantation landscapes, and many would be happy to share this data.  Ultimately, increased interest in looking beyond the plantation’s core will lead to the greater exchange of archaeological data in addition to refocusing the priorities of plantation studies. If you know of other plantation surveys, please do not hesitate to share them in the comment field or contact us separately.

References Cited

  • Pogue, Dennis J.
    • 1988 Archaeology at George Washington’s Mount Vernon 1931 – 1987, Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association Archaeology Department, File Report #1.
  • Pecoraro, Luke and Bill Cole
    • 2012 Reanalysis of Two Features at the Potomac Overlook Site, 44FX885, Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association Archaeology Department.

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