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Wrapping Up Another Field Season at the Ravenscroft Site

• August 5, 2008
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Our field school at Ravenscroft has now come to an end for this final summer. As plans are being made to backfill most or all of the site, we spent our final week attempting to gather as much information from the remaining features as we could without excavating them, by preparing maps, photographs, and soil descriptions for each feature, and using visible artifacts on the surface to date them. We have also been working around Structure A’s unusual exterior cooking hearth. Teaching Assistant Derek Miller and Intern Rachel Horowitz have been busy sampling portions of some early 18th-century midden (trash) layers and Structure A’s builder's trench north of the cellar in this area, where the trench is much wider than it was on the eastern side of the building.

Since the 1998 excavation removed most of the midden layers, we need to investigate this area on the cellar’s north wall in order to clearly understand which midden layers are older than Structure A, and which might have been deposited during the use-life of the building. We plan to leave the rest of the builder’s trench and midden areas intact in case future archaeologists need to revisit them sometime in the future. Our construction date for Structure A, based on known production dates of ceramic artifacts from the builder's trench, still has not changed, remaining at 1720.

We have also been busy adding the final touches to a complete site plan which shows every feature on the site (except for James Knight’s 1954 exploratory trenches).

As you can see, most features overly others, making the site quite complex! Many of these features represent two fencelines—a late 19th- or early 20th-century fenceline running east to west near the northern edge of our site, and an 18th-century fence, depicted on the Frenchman’s map (see this previous post). This earlier fenceline was maintained and repaired often into the 19th century, leaving a new posthole each time an old fencepost was replaced. Earlier in the season, we thought we might have found a smaller fence dividing colonial lots 267 and 268, even though they were owned by the same people throughout most of, if not all of the 18th century. We have since proven that this was probably not the case since there is no evidence of a fenceline between Structures A and B. A feature we earlier thought to be a posthole turned out to be an animal burrow, long since collapsed and filled in! Unfortunately, we have found no evidence of the multiple “convenient” outbuildings described in 18th-century property advertisements for lots including this one. They were apparently located elsewhere on colonial lots 267 and 268.

Just as we have begun to think that the Ravenscroft site has little new to tell us, an exciting surprise appeared among the artifacts last week as our excavations came to a close. A complete quartz projectile point (popularly known as an arrowhead) emerged from one of our 18th-century postholes. Such early finds are unusual in historic Williamsburg, where Native American settlements prior to colonization appear to have been rare. This is the first evidence at the Ravenscroft site of people hunting in the area prior to the Middle Plantation settlements of the 17th century.

Now that our field school excavations are finished, staff archaeologists Andrew Edwards and Meredith Poole of Colonial Williamsburg Foundation’s Department of Archaeological Research will be leading a small crew of dedicated interns and volunteers to complete the excavation of our northern builder’s trench sample and some of our units at the south end of the site for the next few weeks.

Mapping and Excavating Features at Ravenscroft

• July 31, 2008
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Before field school at the Ravenscroft site I had a lingering question on my mind: What does an archaeologist actually do? Having had no prior experience in archaeology all I could think of were two words…digging and sifting. However, after participating in the field school for nearly four weeks, I have quickly learned that archaeology is more than just digging and sifting, in fact, there is just as much important paperwork and calculations to be completed.

During the first couple weeks we, the field school students, had the opportunity to participate in all the daily procedures and activities typically practiced at the Ravenscroft site. Taking elevations was one of those routine procedures that we all quickly became familiar with. Before excavating anything on the site, we had to record the opening height above sea level using a laser transit. Then we were ready to dig a layer of soil, but features (stains in the soil left by human activities on the site) were handled differently. We didn’t just begin tearing out the features with our trowels; instead we had to map the surface of each feature on graph paper before beginning excavations. Mapping is an important archaeological procedure because it provides an accurate illustration of a feature’s shape for future analysis. In addition, mapping gives archaeologists a better visual understanding of what the occupational surface looked like around the time the foundation was built. At first, mapping features was a confusing concept for me, but once I had the chance to do it a few times I eventually got the hang of it. Once my mapping skills became more refined I had the privilege to map the profile of an exquisite series of midden (trash) layers and a posthole. After the layers were carefully measured and mapped I could then clearly see the different layers present on the profile. Having the chance to map this context was not only a rewarding experience for me because it put my artistic ability to good use, but it also gave me a better understanding of the technical side of archaeology that I had not previously known.

We’re coming up on the last days of our fourth week on the Ravenscroft site. It’s hard to believe we’re a little more than a week away from the end! The progress we’ve made is incredible. This week, we’ve worked on scraping away one last layer in the cellar to reveal what we think is the original floor. There are a few depressions in the clay floor that very well could be 18th-century footprints—very exciting. We’ve also continued excavating features such as Jimmy Knight’s trenches and posthole/postmold combinations in the area outside of the cellar. (A posthole is a stain left in the ground by a hole dug to set in a post for a fence or building. A postmold is the stain left when the post itself is removed and the ground filled in.) While postholes may not seem as interesting as other features, they are an important part of the site. People don’t usually do anything without a reason, so the postholes obviously represent something that was necessary to the owners of the property. Did these fences keep out threats, or mark boundaries? Once postholes are found and can be connected, the purpose of the fence may become clear.

Another interesting fact about postholes—and something that is a usual occurrence at the Ravenscroft site—is that people will not generally take down a fence only to construct an entirely new one on the same line. Rather, if a post is decaying or has fallen over, it will be taken out and, depending on its condition, either stuck back in, or a new hole will be dug close by for a different post. This results in postholes overlapping one another as fences are maintained or repaired, and can cause confusion for those of us who are trying to figure out which is the youngest posthole or postmold (youngest being the one we excavate first). I encountered an especially frustrating cluster of postholes earlier this week. What appeared to be only two features close together soon multiplied to four—perhaps even more—as we dug further down into the soil. Needless to say, I am no longer working in that area and have moved on to less complicated tasks!

The weather has continued to influence our progress on the site. Earlier in the week, we had a couple of days that really felt like summer. During those days, I had trouble imagining how the colonists survived such extreme heat in their conservative clothing and no air conditioning. It was hardly bearable in T-shirts! Thankfully it cooled down as the week progressed, but we faced another facet of Virginia weather—thunderstorms. Thankfully, the two storms that rolled through the area came during the evening, but our site was still affected by them. Despite the tarps that we had put over the area at night, the rain managed to find its way into the site and collected in some of the postholes and trenches, and turned a good amount of the ground into mud. This made digging, which can be awkward enough on its own at times, difficult and dirty work. As much as we try to avoid it, I think we’ve left our own marks on the site in the form of footprints.

One of Ravenscroft’s distinguishing characteristics is its multi-layered occupational sequence. It may appear to visitors that we are indiscriminately digging a big hole; we are in fact, adhering to a stratigraphic modeling technique known as the Harris Matrix method. We excavate the youngest layers first, and work our way backward in time, tracing our roots all the way to the earliest evidence of colonial occupation. However, as we pull the discarded and long-forgotten fragments of lives once lived out of the dirt, we deposit our own material culture (artifacts, such as the nails and flagging tape we use to grid the site) as a testament to our transient settlement at Ravenscroft.

The reality of our time here as students is designed to augment our educational experience. Our individual goals are as significant as the collective project. But what will our endeavors mean in the future? We explain to interested tourists our project’s findings, objectives, and history, but often their questions have a more personal quality. They want to know who we are and what we are doing, where we go to college and what we are studying. They want to know where we are from originally and what inspires us to pursue archaeology. Essentially, they are curious about us as we are curious about our historical subjects.

One day, it will be our material culture that is subject to archaeological inquiry. If William and Mary scholars choose to re-excavate Ravenscroft in three-hundred years, how will they interpret the traces of our presence we leave behind? They may read our blogs and study written articles; correspondingly, they may find the seeds from a watermelon one of the students brought in for us to share one afternoon, or a clay figurine fashioned out of backfill. But how will they interpret our methods or understand our perspective? We deconstruct the site, layer by layer to uncover the past, while simultaneously laying down evidence of our present for the future.

All of us are in the process of creating the archaeological sites of the future each day. Just as the residents of colonial Williamsburg did in the past, we all produce trash on a daily basis, and we also leave features behind in the ground whenever we build a fence, dig a hole to plant tree, or till a new garden bed. Many of our activities leave their traces in the ground beneath us, a material record which (unlike our tax records, marriage certificates, and other documents) we do not consciously or intentionally produce. Visitors often ask us if we have found anything, and are amazed to hear that we bring back hundreds of artifacts to our lab each day. In fact, given that people can’t help but leave trash and alter the landscape around them, it would be almost impossible not to find something in any densely settled town. As Jen points out, we ourselves have altered the Ravenscroft site in the process of studying it. The excavation area, once backfilled, will leave a gigantic feature here—the result of our archaeological inquiry. Just this morning I noticed a large scatter of sand leaking from the sandbags we use to secure our tarps over the site each night—another feature created here by archaeologists, rather than removed by them!

Now that we have entered our final week of field school, it almost seems like a race to finish. We are very diligently mapping and photographing all the features we don’t have time to excavate. Some students have been working on specific groups of features for nearly a week, and are carefully continuing to excavate intersecting postholes and sort out complicated stratigraphy. We have finally finished excavating the cellar floor — and it has taken nearly a day just to trowel the surface clean for a closing photo.

In the last few days, we are doing our best to help each other out. Someone always needs a hand taking a closing elevation (the height above sea level of the deepest part of a posthole or other feature), drawing a map or profile, or sifting some dirt before we leave for the day. I must say, I expected archaeology to be all about the dirt. I find it fascinating to learn about different types of ceramic artifacts or to recognize changes in soil color and texture. But as time has gone on, I have learned that working at an archaeological site is not just about the dirt — it’s about the people.

While we study material objects, it is important to remember that ultimately, it is not the artifacts that matter, but what they can tell us about the people who used them. One of our major goals is to uncover the stories of the people who didn’t leave documentary evidence (historical records) written from their own points of view, like perhaps the enslaved African-Americans who may have worked and lived in Structure A if it did function as a bake house.

Another important part of archaeology at the Ravenscroft site is to share what we find with the public. Each of us has had experience telling visitors about the excavation and site history. It’s a really great experience to help people get excited about what we’re doing. On one of my shifts at our public interpretation table, I encountered a biology teacher who was most excited about the effort and passion we as students put into digging the site, but most visitors remark that work looks very tedious. Well, it can be. There is always troweling, screening and cleaning to do, elevations and photos to take, and maps to draw. It's not only the finds that make it fun—the first time you could identify a piece of white salt-glazed stoneware, or when you find a feature—it’s the jokes and conversations. One time it took six people to hold up shade tarps to provide even lighting for a photo, and by the end we were all laughing. Working at the site with all kinds of different people, you get a chance to get to know each other while excavating. Most of us walk down to the Cheese Shop on Duke of Gloucester street for lunch on Wednesdays. Aside from learning all about field methods, what I will remember best from the field session are the people—from Jenny, the escaped slave who may have lived here, to “Jimmy” Knight who excavated here in 1954, to the little girl who so meticulously sorted through seeds during the children’s activities yesterday, to all of us who have spent the past month digging together.

Sources of Inspiration--Oyster Shells, Plant Remains, and the Enthusiasm of Our Visitors

• July 29, 2008
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We are wrapping up the third week of our session and our immediate excavation goals and techniques have changed drastically. During the first two weeks, we mainly focused on excavating the plowzone. This large layer of soil was almost two feet deep and, as I quickly found out, it was no easy task to dig and screen. As our backfill pile of excavated and screened dirt began to look more like a small mountain, we successfully removed the final units of plowzone, and many features became clear. One clear L-shaped feature is filled with dark soil and oyster shells. Because we are not yet sure what this feature is, previous sessions affectionately nicknamed it the “clambake.”

As we excavated this feature, the importance of understanding stratigraphy became very evident. We learned about how layers of soil and features can be laid down by human activities such as sweeping, discarding trash, or filling depressions in an uneven ground surface, as well as by natural occurrences that shape the landscape. If we had not followed the layers, or strata, while excavating the plowzone, we might have dug too deep or not deep enough, overlooking or not reaching the “clambake” feature. Stratigraphy is even more important to those of us excavating postholes. Since we tackle the youngest dirt first and work back in time, it is important to recognize how postholes may overlie other features and understand how to tell if the dirt is younger or older.

Features are also interesting because they begin to tell stories in a way that artifacts outside of features often cannot. As we excavated the “clambake” we tried to come up with the most feasible story for why the abundance of oyster shells might be in that particular location. Amidst the tales about oysters served here, we considered that the shape of the oyster deposit might have outlined the edge of an outhouse where inhabitants threw their shells out the windows like any other trash. This kind of find delineates an activity area, where human cultural remains are concentrated in a way that shows there was a specific and purposeful activity that took place on that site. Although plowzone artifacts did give us insight into the activities of the inhabitants, features below the plowzone give us a great deal of knowledge about how the land was used at a chronologically specific time (relative to other layers of soil that depict other time periods) and in a very specific location.

Removal of the oyster shell feature that Erin describes has now been completed, and we are still uncertain as to its function. It does not appear to be a filled-in foundation of an outbuilding, since its L shape does not have four sides, but two, and there are no other features associated with it. We have found from our excavations (which produced an early 20th-century fountain pen) that this feature was created relatively recently. Given this discovery, it is very likely that this oddly-shaped trench was left by James Knight’s 1954 excavation. Although he normally oriented his trenches at 45 degree angles to Williamsburg’s street grid, we have reason to suspect that he was every bit as confused by Structure A’s foundation as we are! He did not consider the possibility that the building was a bakehouse, and so may have been searching in line with the building’s foundation for a room surrounding the cooking hearth (which we have now proven never existed). However, while that would explain the time period, as well as the shape and orientation of the feature, it does not explain why so many oyster shells are concentrated within it. They are common throughout the site, and may have been redeposited by Jimmy Knight. While Erin has been puzzling over the amount of discarded oyster shells in the large feature she was assigned, Ben has been focused on gathering botanical remains within the cellar of Structure A.

Things are heating up in Williamsburg as we enter our fourth week of the field school. It is supposed to feel like 105 degrees today. While most of my classmates are digging up features behind the cellar in the baking sun, I am excavating a 1 meter by 1 meter unit in the cellar floor underneath the wonderful shade of the tent. We have found some interesting artifacts in the cellar, from a nearly complete delftware ceramic bowl to a large amount of animal bone, but I am more interested by something else that is coming out of the cellar—basically, the dirt!

As we dig up the dirt we are taking some different samples of it to be processed by the lab, which will tell us different things about the cellar and the inhabitants of the site. One of the samples is called a phytolith sample (or “phyto” for short). This sample is about a cup of dirt that is processed to find mineralized plant cell remains or phytoliths. We use these to see what plants or plant products were housed in the cellar at some point. If this building was used as a bakehouse we should find the remains of associated with baking.

Another sample that we have extracted from the cellar is a pollen sample. This is a sample of dirt taken from underneath a large artifact (which protected it from contamination). The pollen sample will be processed to see the amount and types of pollen present when the cellar floor layer was deposited. This will give us clues to what plants and trees would be around the site at the time that the building was in use. We have to take this sample from a special location because pollen from present-day trees and plants can mix with pollen from the sample and skew our picture of the past. In the cellar we took our sample from underneath an iron concretion or large iron mass. The dirt we pulled out from under it should contain pollen from a time before the iron was discarded on the cellar floor.

One final sample that I just finished taking was a flotation sample. A float sample is about 35 liters of dirt that is taken from a single unit or location on the site that is put through a special screening process called flotation. To take the sample we use a graduated bucket that has liter measures on the sides. We then transfer it to bags that are taken back to the lab. There we have a flotation machine that we use to sift the dirt through two screens with water, which washes away the dirt, leaving two “fractions” or piles of stuff. There is a heavy fraction which sinks and a light fraction that floats. This separates things like small bones and burnt seeds which float from the heavier brick, stone, or other heavy objects which sink. This way we can find smaller artifacts that we would overlook if we just screened the dirt normally. This is a long process and that takes a lot of work so it is not possible to do it with all of the dirt we remove from the site. Instead we are taking samples from different locations around the site. For example, we’ve taken one sample from the base of the steps in the cellar and will be comparing it to another sample taken from the back corner of the cellar, away from its entrance.

In the past several days I have had the opportunity to work on several different areas of the site. I’ve gone from the “clambake” feature to the cellar, from the 20th century to the 18th century. You might assume that digging up the 18th century would be more exciting than digging up something that was deposited 100 years ago or less. That’s certainly what I thought when I began this field school several weeks ago, and to a certain degree it’s true. But history is history, whether it was yesterday or thousands of years ago, and it’s truly fascinating.

While helping out with the children’s activities that are held each morning on site, I’ve witnessed this fascination in the kids who have come to visit. Children of all ages have carefully gone through the screen of artifacts, pulling out modern bottle glass and colonial ceramics, and they are just as excited about one as they are about another. To them, they are discovering history. One little boy visiting the site spent about 45 minutes going though the screen. He examined each piece he pulled out, trying to determine its age and its function, and after just a few minutes he was able to identify many of the artifacts by himself. He sorted his finds into functional categories, and after a time his squeaky little voice rang out with “LOOK! I’ve built a whole house!” A pile of nails and window glass lay on a piece of white paper. In his mind he had used those discarded architectural materials to reconstruct a house, and history had come alive for that little boy.

I met another young girl on while I was digging in the cellar. She was staring wide-eyed at all we were doing while her father was busy asking questions about the site to the student who was assigned to public interpretation for the day. I brought up a bag of artifacts, and in the bag there were several large bones. I also showed her a row of large animal teeth found in a neighboring square of the cellar. She looked at the artifacts, and she decided that since the cellar was too small for a family to live in, it must belong to the family’s horse. I smiled and took the artifacts back down into the cellar and resumed my work. I imagined that her father discussed her interpretation of the cellar with her since he had heard another explanation of how the teeth of livestock might be discarded along with other trash, but while it’s good to teach children the truth, it’s also good to let them think for themselves.

These children had an insight into history that those of us working in the field can easily forget about. We get bogged down by the constraints of dates that are important in interpreting the site, and of course we want to know as much about the site in the 18th century as we can; that’s why we are here. But these children have reminded me how incredibly exciting digging up history really is. In the next week that I am here at Ravenscroft, I am looking forward to excavating all kinds of history. And while I still think excavating the 18th century is at least a little bit more exciting than excavating the 20th century, I’m thankful for the children who have reminded me that digging at all is really very cool.

The Second Week of the Second Session -- Slogging Through the Rain!

• July 15, 2008
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The second session of this year's field crew is still relatively new to the site but has already met several challenges, from learning to read the soil beneath their workboots, to dealing with inclement weather. Some of the new student archaeologists comment on the events of the past week at Ravenscroft.

At the beginning of the second week of working on the Ravenscroft site, we have been working in an area just north of Structure A, in the hopes of finding some remnants of other activities on the site and/or evidence of other buildings on the property. Last week we finished the removal of the topsoil, and this week we are working through the layer of soil that was built up after years of plowing this area for an agricultural exhibit in Colonial Williamsburg.

Upon reaching the base of this "plowzone," interesting features are becoming visible. The 1 by 1 meter unit that I am working in has begun showing a portion of some of the trenches dug and then refilled in 1954 by draftsman/architectural historian James M. Knight, when he was searching the area for brick and mortar foundations to rebuild. Also visible is an unknown feature that will need more detailed excavation to identify. While screening, or sifting, through the excavated dirt, vast amounts of artifact fragments have been found--pieces of various ceramics, glass, nails, shells, and animal bone, many of which are from the more recent past. (Apparently RC Cola was very popular here in the mid-twentieth century!) While we sometimes joke and ask each other, "have you found anything good?" in reality all artifacts play a significant role in determining the happenings of this site and, just as important, when they happened. By mapping exactly where on the site artifacts are found, what these objects are and when and where they were originally manufactured, archaeologists are able to get a better picture of when this site was occupied and what daily life might have consisted of at that certain period of time in history.

When first approaching the site, the intrigue of Structure A got me excited to "dig in" and maybe be able to assist the archaeologists in discerning what this building looked like, who lived here, and what they did. After realizing that we wouldn't be in the cellar of Structure A for some time and would be working just north of it I have to admit I was a little disappointed. However, after working in this area I have come to quickly realize its importance to the overall interpretation of the Ravenscroft site and have found that it stirs up just as much intrigue and excitement as though working within the structure itself. After studying the history of the site and noting historical references to other features on the property, such as orchards and other outbuildings, the idea of possibly being present when even a glimpse of this sort of discovery is made is thrilling. Inasmuch as this work can seem rather repetitive and meticulous, it is also exhilarating. We are digging our way through history. As the layers peal off, we are getting a clearer picture of what may have happened here over time; or, as it often seems, we are presented with more questions to answer. Even though finding fifty sherds of the same ceramic seems dull and insignificant to most, piecing those sherds together and seeing the beauty of the completed object makes all the work unearthing those sherds in the first place well worth it.

As I sit to write this entry we are well into our second week of field school at the Ravenscroft site. We have had some delays this week due to the weather. Archaeology is obviously done in the field, and we are always subject to the whims of Mother Nature. We pretty much work through anything, (actual) temperatures over 100 degrees and thunderstorms or heavy rain being the few exceptions. Earlier this week we experienced our first shortened day due to a fast moving thunderstorm. The first rumble was dismissed as the Fife and Drum Corps echoing distantly from Duke of Gloucester Street. The second was much more vocal and obvious in announcing its impending arrival. Typically it takes around 15 to 20 minutes at the end of each day to close our site. This includes troweling up any loose, packing up equipment such as buckets and shovels, and covering the site with waterproof tarps. The day the thunderstorm rolled in, the site was closed in around 5 minutes--amazing how the threat of lightning can inspire us to move quickly!

This has been an especially wet week. Excavation can take place in the rain, as long as it isn't too much at one time, however, once you begin digging through mud instead of dirt it's time to call it a day. Yesterday we set out ambitiously. Knowing a large rain storm would be arriving and our time would be limited, we were able to work for about two hours before packing up. The decision was made to return after lunch and a light drizzle made for a very muddy hour of digging before the rain got too hard and the site too messy to work effectively. Mornings after rain storms often involve having to bail water out of our tarps before uncovering the site. Keeping the site as dry as possible is important. For instance, the northern part of our site has several exposed features which are still being excavated, and if these get wet or muddy it can change their form and could possibly ruin their further analysis.

Water on an archaeological site can also sometimes be helpful, in controlled amounts of course. Often water is sprayed on features to help bring out changes in soil color to help with identifying where a feature starts or stops and is also used when taking photographs to ensure that their color is even. I suppose you could say archaeologists have a love/hate relationship with water! The rest of the week promises to be a wet one, but we have luckily not had to deal with the other problem of extreme heat, although it is July in Virginia and it is sure to come!

I recently moved to Virginia to attend the field school at the Colonial Williamsburg Ravenscroft site. I am originally from Michigan, a student at The University of Michigan-Dearborn majoring in Anthropology, but my strong interest in archaeology lured me down to Virginia to finish my undergrad career. I figured that this site would provide me with some insight into what an archaeologist's job entails. I also knew that the area was rich in historical artifacts, and that it would be a great opportunity for me to learn more about the origins of the area, and would provide a window into the early days of this country.

Currently we are wrapping up our second week out here. The landscape behind structure A is beginning to unfold as we are finally peeling away the remaining plowzone (a layer of soil that has been plowed several times since 1954). The units of plowzone that I have excavated contained many artifacts--oyster shells, glass, animal bones/teeth, and several different types of ceramics. These types of artifacts were most prevalent, but the most interesting artifact found within my unit was a "half dime" that dated back to 1856. I didn't know that such a coin had ever existed.

Features such as James Knight's 1954 trenches are now finally visible beneath the plowzone that we have removed. While working in my unit, it was exciting for me to be able to identify the trench on my own. As we reached subsoil (the yellow clay areas of soil that are "sterile" because they predate any human occupation), it became more apparent that we were finding areas that contained features due to the darker color of the soil. The Jimmy Knight trenches are darker in color which signifies to us that they need further excavation because they reflect a past activity on the site that interrupted the natural soil layers.

The removal of plowzone has been a very physically demanding process, especially in this 100 degree weather. We arrive on site at approximately 8:30 am and from that point we "dig in." I had never worked outdoors like this before, digging in the dirt under the hot sun, but it was incredibly rewarding with each completion of a unit (a 1 by 1 meter square). It was also, not to mention, a fantastic workout. I soon realized the importance of having a good, sturdy pair of shoes to wear out in the field due to the long hours of being on my feet in squatting positions and kicking a shovel into the solid ground. Did I mention the part where this is all actually fun? It certainly is.

I was speaking with a visitor about the cellar this morning and the possible uses of Structure A--a bakehouse, a store, or some sort of outbuilding for the main house Structure B. The conversation turned to the possible occupants of a Structure A's loft--enslaved residents of urban sites were known to live in the upstairs areas of houses and outbuildings. The visitors' tones of voice turned soft, and they leaned closer towards the cellar to get a better look. Archaeology, to me anyway, is all about representation, the underrepresentation of some groups of people in history, and overrepresentation of the individuals that made enormous, arching changes in history--like Thomas Jefferson and George Washington. It's important to ask the values and habits of the everyday person, whose history is not often written about. Their influence is ever-present.

The blending of ethnicities into American culture gives archaeology power and purpose. Earlier this week, my excavation partner and I found objects related to the leisure time of average people of the early twentieth century--marbles, an earring made of rhinestones, and fragments of RC Cola bottles. It isn't the "treasure" some visitors ask for, but it is representative of a time that's foggy in the minds of locals and tourists, when a vibrant African-American community was developing in this area of Williamsburg.

The "race, class, and gender" question is intimidating and all-consuming to many academic fields, but in representing the lower and middle classes, including African-Americans that occupied the Williamsburg area for centuries, historical archaeology and its public outreach has a new, empowering message. Many visitors can relate to those middle classes. A few can even remember playing with marbles in the backyard and drinking Coke or some other regional cola out of glass bottles. Such unwritten records become important in understanding the full scope of history, and visitors from all walks of life and ethnicities can thoroughly grasp their own heritage through an archaeological record that feels like their own piece of the past.

News from the Trenches

• July 3, 2008
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As we begin the second session of the field school, much has changed at the Ravenscroft site. Our first session students completed their excavations of James Knight's 1954 trenches in the new northern section of the site, and began working on some of the older features below last week.

We have found that a line of eighteenth-century postholes we discovered and began excavating last year immediately to the west of the cellar does appear to extend further north into our new excavation area, and may be a fenceline depicted on the 1781 Frenchman's map.

On the other side of the cellar, we have also found another possible posthole that is of similar size shape and color to one we excavated last year, and directly north of it. Once excavated, we will know for certain whether they are consistent in form and whether their artifacts date to the same period. If these postholes are also part of a fence line, it is possible that this fence marked the property boundaries between colonial lots 267 and 268. An apparent need to separate the properties would be interesting, since we know from our chain of title that both lots were owned by the same person throughout most, if not all of the eighteenth century. Our new students this week have begun to open up 18 new one-meter-square units, connecting the two excavation areas by removing the topsoil and plowzone layers of soil in this portion of our site, helping us to gain access to some of the new features, which are now only partially visible.

Andy Edwards' exploratory excavations searching for the edge of the plowzone in hopes of finding intact stratigraphic layers from the eighteenth century have been disappointing so far. While we were able to relocate the sewer trench near Nicholson Street, and excavate another portion of it, the walls of the excavated trench did not reveal the missing layers we had hoped to find.

In the cellar, we have removed the layer of coal and coal dust that we believe to have been deposited as Structure A was torn down and the cellar was filled in. The most recent artifacts retrieved from this layer date to the late eighteenth century, supporting our belief that this building is among the buildings depicted (and therefore still standing) on the Frenchman's map in 1781. Beneath this layer are many bricks, probably from Structure A's now demolished portions above ground. We have also found many places where bricks once rested on the floor of the cellar, but were then removed, leaving an impression that was filled with coal when the cellar was filled in. These brick sockets were probably left when people pulled many of the bricks from Structure A's rubble out of the cellar to reuse them in other masonry projects.

The cellar's earthen floor is much more uneven than we would have expected, and contains many seventeenth- and eighteenth-century artifacts—ceramics, animal bone, pipe stems, and fragments of wine bottles. Many of them are concentrated in this feature (below), which we are currently excavating. We have also found the cellar's sump—a lower area in the cellar that allowed water to collect and drain, helping to keep the floor dry. When the building was torn down, this square depression in the cellar floor was filled with the coal that was dumped into the cellar, leaving an obvious feature for us to find.

Outside of the cellar, Teaching Assistant Sarah Chesney has completed her excavation of the builder's trench, and the artifacts in her screen have been consistently seventeenth- or early eighteenth-century. We still have not found anything from the trench that is more recent than 1720, so that date remains the earliest possible date of construction for Structure A.