Lives and Legacies

Tag: artifact analysis

  • When is a rock also an artifact?

    As archaeologists, we focus on studying the past by examining the items previous humans have left behind. Anything that has been made or changed by someone in the past is therefore considered to be an artifact.

    When you think of stone artifacts, the first thing that usually comes to mind are arrowheads. Arrowheads and spearheads are referred to by archaeologists as projectile points. In addition to projectile points, archaeologists also find a wide variety of other stone tools, including awls, scrapers, knives, axe heads, grinding stones, and fishing weights. All of these tools, and others, were used to procure and process food and for preparing items of clothing, storage, and shelter.

    Complete tools, however, are not the only evidence Native Americans left behind. Stone artifacts called flakes, shatter, and cores are evidence of the production of stone tools and are found in abundance on prehistoric Native American sites. A core is the first stage of lithic reduction, where the rock is considered an artifact. Typically a natural rock is broken into one or more lithic cores, which will be reduced to usable flakes and tools. Flakes are relatively thin shards of stone precisely removed from a stone core. Shatter consists of chunks of stone that come off the core in unintended or less predictable ways. To make a stone tool, flakes are removed from a core by striking them off with a hammerstone or antler baton. This is called percussion flaking. Each core would then be reduced through percussion flaking to a rough preform of the intended tool. Once that is complete, a lithic tool will be reduced to a finished shape and then sharpened. This is done through a process called pressure flaking. While percussion flaking makes bigger lithic flakes, pressure flaking makes very small flakes. Instead of hitting the stone, a narrow piece of bone or antler is firmly pressed against the side of the stone, breaking off a small flake and leaving a sharp and more robust edge.The best lithic tools are made from stones that break in predictable patterns. This quality is found in rocks that have a cryptocrystalline structure. Some examples of rock types we find lithic tools made from are: chert, flint, jasper, and quartz.

    Three methods of lithic reduction.
    Examples of lithics found at Ferry Farm, a core on the left and on the right a projectile point surrounded by flakes and shatter.

    While archaeologists can learn much from artifacts such as projectile points and tools, we are also interested in a category of stone artifacts called fire-cracked rock. Fire cracked rock, commonly abbreviated to FCR, is a byproduct of cooking at a time primarily before the creation and widespread use of ceramics more than 3000 years ago. In order to boil water for cooking, they would heat rocks in a fire and drop them into pots of water made from animal hides or wood. After doing this multiple times, the rocks would permanently turn red from the heat of the fire and shatter into small pieces from the rapid cooling and heating. By finding FCR here at Ferry Farm, we can deduce that people were cooking meals here before ceramic technology was widespread.

    Fire Cracked Rock found at Ferry Farm. Note the red color on the exterior caused by the heat of a fire.

    When lithic flakes and shatter are found, we know that at some point, someone made a stone tool there. By examining the type of stone, it is possible to determine where that material came from. Sometimes the local material available isn’t the best for making tools, and people would travel or trade for better materials. This is the case at Ferry Farm, where most of the lithics we find are made of quartz, but sometimes we find jasper or chert flakes that indicate travel or trade.

    There’s even more, we can learn from projectile points and some tools. Projectile points changed in shape, size, and form over time. These changes could be due to a change in purpose of the point or a change in maker. Archaeologists have grouped points together to create types that were made in a certain region during a given date range. We can use these groups to match points we find in our excavations and determine where it came from and when it could have been made.

    Native Peoples lived in the Rappahannock area, including what would become Ferry Farm, for thousands of years before Europeans arrived. The projectile points, tools, FCR, and lithic debris they left behind are some of the only artifacts that were able to survive until today. Being able to tell the difference between them and a natural rock becomes an important skill for archaeologists. Have you ever found a lithic?[1][2][3]

    Top and Bottom images: Examples of different types of points and the various materials they can be made from. All excavated at Ferry Farm.

    Mason Schultz

    Co-Field Director and Staff Archaeologist

    [1] “Diagnostic Artifacts in Maryland, Projectile Point Typology.” Jefferson Patterson Park and Museum, Maryland Archaeological Conservation Lab, 2002, https://apps.jefpat.maryland.gov/diagnostic/ProjectilePoints/AboutProjectilePoints/ProjectilePointTypology.html. Accessed 9 Aug. 2022.

    [2] “Diagnostic Artifacts in Maryland, How Are Points Made?” Jefferson Patterson Park and Museum, Maryland Archaeological Conservation Lab, 2002, https://apps.jefpat.maryland.gov/diagnostic/ProjectilePoints/AboutProjectilePoints/HowArePointsMade.html. Accessed 9 Aug. 2022.

    [3] Cullen, Darcy. “Methods of Flaking Stone.” Quizlet, https://quizlet.com/250350464/methods-of-flaking-stone-diagram /. Accessed 9 Aug. 2022.

  • Letters from the Battlefield

    Such a tiny thing, a letter. What does it mean now? For many of us, a letter via ‘snail mail’ is a nuisance. Needless paper that litters our mailbox. Ads. Spam. Bills. Scams (most of which are electronic now and also a pain). Mail has been ruined for most of us with the sheer barrage of unimportant stuff that claims a box at the end of the driveway which once held so many wonders. Communications evolve rapidly throughout time, as well they should. But they change so fast that occasionally we forget just how important getting a letter was. Being delivered a letter was a moment of anticipation, perhaps dread or admiration, instead of the mundane. Many have written of the hopes or fear of a letter in the mail. In the iconic song ‘Mr. Postman’ by the Marvelettes, a lovelorn lady, yearns for word from her boyfriend. “So many days you passed me by, you saw the tears standin’ in my eye. Wait a minute, Mr. Postman.” Still, others have had to pen terrible letters they never wished to send, which informed families of what they feared most, the loss of a loved one.

                Our artifact blog posts tend to focus on unique objects. However, this time I’m going to concentrate on a very commonplace ink bottle that dates to the mid-19th century. So many of these were made that they normally escape notice. Mere curiosities. Who doesn’t love an old bottle? However, the importance of a simple vessel such as this one should not be understated. This particular example is in an ‘umbrella’ shape, one of the most ubiquitous ink bottle forms from this era. However, this particular bottle has the distinction of having been located within a portion of a Union Civil War trench which extended through the cellar of the house George Washington grew up in.

                Several units were assigned to Ferry Farm during the two occupations in 1862. The spring deployment was relatively quiet and uneventful except for the chaos of the hasty August withdrawal to defend Washington DC. The second occupation cumulated in the Battle of Fredericksburg. Union soldiers deployed at Ferry Farm include regiments from New York, the 7th Wisconsin, and the 36th Massachusetts. While no large encampments were established at Ferry Farm, soldiers did occasionally camp there and used the farm for picket duty and to provision themselves. The farm experienced combat only during the initial stages of the Battle of Fredericksburg.

                The Federals appear to have built no large, formal camps at Ferry Farm. No evidence of winter huts, latrine trenches, or clay borrow pits have been unearthed to date. That is not to say that soldiers were not stationed at Ferry Farm both before and after December 1862. Photographs of the farm show small groups of tents situated on the terrace overlooking the river. The terrace served as bivouacs for soldiers guarding or maintaining the pontoon bridges and later for pickets. These activities suggest that a small force was a relatively constant at the farm.  Artifacts associated with soldiers at Ferry Farm included buttons, knapsack hooks, grommets, cap letters, minie balls, percussion caps, exploded artillery shells, cutlery, and of course, one simple ink bottle. The ink held within probably penned many a letter with critical information that could have changed the tide of war and/or altered the lives of so many families expecting word from the front. 

    Military Encampment, Spring 1862. Credit: Unknown

                Really this bottle would be totally insignificant were it not for the location it was found in. We do know that the bottle was typically meant for single use and would have been made in one of the numerous American glasshouses present during the 19th century. It was then filled with ink, affixed with a label, and marketed for single use, which does not mean it wasn’t refilled from a ‘master ink’ bottle when the original contents were depleted. We’ll never know the exact history of this object, and there lies the mystery of it. As archaeologists, we can’t be privy to who owned it, what letters were written with the ink, or if those correspondences even made it out of the trench to the outside world. We’ll never know the travels of the bottle before it was deposited in the trench or the circumstances that led to it being abandoned. We only know that it was used during the Civil War by the Union and was found in a location many soldiers never wanted to be stuck in. Chances are, the soldier or soldiers who made use of the bottle never made it back home alive. The fact that it was discarded when the bottle still potentially retained at least some value and during a time when possessions were at a premium indicates a hasty departure, or perhaps the owner expected to return but didn’t. Regardless, letters were likely written using the ink from this humble bottle. Some may have had great importance in our country’s history, while some may have carried tidings of possible homecomings or hardships endured. Every ink bottle held the potential for countless correspondences, but this one has quite a history, the exact nature of which we’ll never know.

    Mara Kaktins, Archaeologist

    Archaeology Laboratory Manager

  • Put A Lid On it: Mason Jars and Home Canning in America

    As a Historic Preservation major at the University of Mary Washington, I spend a lot of time studying objects from the past. Through my courses, I have learned that common, everyday objects are often able to reflect the values of the people that created and used them. I kept this in mind during my internship in the Archaeology Lab at Ferry Farm this semester. While looking through the collection, I came across one of these everyday items, an item that I use every day, the Mason Jar.

    Though there are many uses for Mason jars today, these glass jars were originally designed for home canning and have been preserving food in America for over 150 years. Using the idea that everyday objects such as the Mason jar are able to reflect the values of the people using them, let’s take a look at the evolution of home canning and the Mason jar throughout its 150-year history to see how the value of the Mason jar may have changed.

    Patent for Mason Jar, 1858. Source: Suiter Swantz IP

    The 1850s marked the beginning of home canning’s popularity in America, and the glass canning jar as we know it today was first patented by John Landis Mason in 1858.[1] Mason’s first jars were sealed using a zinc screw-on lid. With this design, the zinc was able to come into contact with the contents of the jar, affecting the food’s taste.[2] This issue was remedied in 1869 when Mason sold his patents to Lewis Boyd the creator of milk glass lid liners.[3] Together Mason’s glass jar and screw-on lid with Lewis Boyd’s patented milk glass lid liner created an affordable canning jar that was able to be sealed without interfering with taste. Here at Ferry Farm, we have a few examples of these milk glass lid liners in our collection.

    Home Canning. Source: National Agricultural Library

    While canning food during this early period served as a practical way to preserve surplus food, during the early 20th century its value shifted to something a bit more patriotic. During World War I and World War II, home canning became a way for American’s, primarily women, to support their country and troops on the home front.[4] By growing and preserving food at home in their ‘war gardens’ (or ‘victory gardens’ as they were called after the war), they were ensuring that the available food supplies were able to get to the troops.[5] This also became a way for communities to band together and help support one another during periods of rationing food supplies.[6]

    Home Canning During War. Source: National Agricultural Library

    After World War II, canning at home decreased in popularity due to the increased accessibility of home refrigeration and the rise of the supermarket.[7] Though it may have lost its widespread popularity, canning continued to serve as a way for gardeners to preserve their pickles, jams, and other produce. During the beginning of the 21st century, the Mason jar became widely popular once again, but for its looks rather than its use in canning.[8] It became the symbol for the ‘rustic farmhouse’ aesthetic and a popular do-it-yourself crafting item for everything from wedding decor to light fixtures. Mason jars also became a more sustainable, economic replacement for plastic food storage and even drinkware.

    Homemade Mason Jar Light Fixture. Source: Etsy

    Recently we have seen a revival in home canning in response to the pandemic. As people had more time at home, and supply issues caused produce scarcity in supermarkets, many turned to their gardens once again. The popularity of the Mason jar may ebb and flow, but it is an object that has been a staple for many Americans for over 150 years. Do you have a Mason jar at home? What do these canning jars mean to you?

    Danielle Arens

    Archaeology Intern

    [1] FRUIT JARS… A History Worth Remembering by Melissa Milner https://www.fohbc.org/PDF_Files/Milner_FruitJars.pdf

    [2] ibid

    [3] ibid

    [4] Making Sense of Mason Jars: A Qualitative Exploration of Contemporary Home Canning Pennington, P. Suzanne. https://www.proquest.com/docview/1474906609/fulltextPDF/5AF40FBE73384694PQ/1?accountid=12299

    [5] ibid

    [6] ibid

    [7] https://www.smithsonianmag.com/innovation/brief-history-mason-jar-180975546/

    [8] Ibid

  • Behind the Glass of the Archaeology Lab: Creating an Exhibit

    It can be daunting to look at a blank space and realize you are in charge of filling it. And not just filling it, you need to create something that will leave a lasting impression on the public. The process of creating an exhibit is much more complicated than it seems. From the initial idea to the final product, there are many steps that require careful attention.

    With countless artifacts in the Archaeology Lab, finding inspiration for a topic was easy. Once I settled on 18th Century tea practices, everything seemed to fall into place. There were many subjects I could have focused on from this topic. In order to connect the idea to Ferry Farm and the Washington legacy, I chose to focus on Betty Washington and what she would have learned from her mother growing up at Ferry Farm.

    This inspiration came from an archaeologically excavated pewter teaspoon handle with the initials ‘BW’ stamped into it. It is clear that Miss Betty Washington was the owner of this spoon. The spoon was likely part of a children’s tea set that Betty was given in order to teach her the intricacies of the American Tea Ceremony. This education was Mary’s legacy for Betty; it taught her how to be a proper gentry lady and interact with the upper-class circles in Virginia.

    Teaspoon handle with “BW” initials.

    Once I picked my topic, it was time to begin researching. Research is the backbone of any exhibit, though it might not be the most exciting part. I was able to obtain an understanding of the Tea Ceremony from my research that I applied to my specific topic. The biggest question on my mind throughout my research was: Why was this important for Betty?

    While working on research, I was simultaneously creating a reproduction 18th Century creamware teapot. With the help of the Archaeology Lab Forgeries Department, I quickly transformed a Goodwill find into delicate creamware with a rose motif. The pot is the centerpiece of the exhibit on 18th Century tea practices. Many scholars wrote that the teapot is the literal and figurative center of the ceremony, bringing people together and initiating the ceremony. This concept inspired my placement of the teapot for the exhibit.

    Hand painting of reproduction teapot.

    After concluding my research, writing the signs for the exhibit, and finishing the replica pot, I had to choose the artifacts to include in the exhibit. Throughout this process, I kept my thoughts on Betty. The BW teaspoon handle was set aside for the exhibit as well as the replica teapot. Including teaware from Ferry Farm and Kenmore displayed the continuity of Betty’s gentry practices throughout her life. A slop bowl excavated from Kenmore, as well as a teacup and a saucer excavated from Ferry Farm were both chosen for the exhibit in order to support that point.

    Once this was all completed, the excitement truly began. I saw my work come to fruition when I set up the display in the conservation window of the Archaeology Lab. Being able to share what I had learned with the public was an excited prospect. The exhibit is currently on display and can be seen in the Ferry Farm Visitor Center.

    Intern Gillian Both standing behind her exhibit.

    This process has taught me a lot about exhibit design and the research process. I couldn’t have completed the exhibit without the Archaeology Lab staff helping me along every step of the way. I encourage you to go and visit the lab to see the exhibit and learn more about archaeology at Ferry Farm.

    Gillian Both

    Fleming Smith Scholar, UMW Class of 2022

  • Dig These Dishes! We Recreate an 18th Century Table Setting Using Only Artifacts.

    Dig These Dishes! We Recreate an 18th Century Table Setting Using Only Artifacts.

    On a typical day at George Washington’s Boyhood Home at Ferry Farm, visitors experiencing the house tour are ushered into the main hall upon which a dining table is set out before them with 18th-century reproductions of plates, glassware, wine bottles, and serving dishes. This setting creates an interactive experience for our visitors, transporting them back in time to the mid-18th century when the Washington family lived here on site.

    Last month, however, an unexpected sight greeted a tour group as they entered the hall. The dining table was set, not with reproductions, but actual plates, jugs, and serving dishes that could very well have graced the Washington family’s dinner table over 250 years ago.  The principal difference is that nothing on the table was complete – all were fragmented versions of the originals. 

    Dining table in Hall set up for dinner.

    The setting was a special photoshoot for The George Washington Foundation and an occasion to display and highlight the array of vessels, many mended, residing in the Archaeology Department’s collection.  Everything on the table was archaeologically recovered from either Ferry Farm or Historic Kenmore and represent vessels that date to the Washington family’s occupation of Ferry Farm or Betty Washington Lewis’ time at Kenmore. 

    The Archaeology Department at Ferry Farm has been mending vessels over the past couple of years for our museum displays at the Ferry Farm and Kenmore Visitor Centers. This mending was also done for research purposes as the curatorial department worked to furnish the replica house with accurate, period-relevant household items.

    So what is on the table? Creamware and white salt-glazed plates and serving dishes, glass tumblers and wine glasses, German stoneware jugs, dark green glass wine bottles, a porcelain teacup, coarse earthenware porringers, forks and knives with bone handles, silver spoons, and Mary Washington’s creamware enamel-painted punch bowl.  Many of the ceramic tablewares and a few of the glass tumblers were mended using archival glue.  Some of the objects were able to stand on the table unaided, while others needed mounts for support, such as the wine glass.

    Fragments of dinner and glasswares

    To help envisage the original shape of some of the fragmented vessels and make them recognizable, we first sculpted their shapes out of foam, covered them with fabric, and then attached the incomplete vessel fragments in their correct positions. This process allowed us to present a more “complete” and familiar view of some of the tablewares, such as the two large stoneware jugs, the creamware pepper pot, the glass tumbler, and the two wine bottles. All of these items would have been very difficult to display simply using the fragments themselves. 

    Having such an array of different ceramic styles on the table is more a function of what we have mended in our collection versus what Mary might have actually had on her table.  But for our purposes, we are happy showcasing all of the different ceramic types presently in our possession.

    Welcome to the Washington dining table! Enjoy!

    Judy Jobrack, Archaeologist
    Co-Field Director

  • Playing Around: 20th Century Die-Cast Toys Excavated at Ferry Farm

    A lot of people don’t realize how many 20th century artifacts we excavate at George Washington’s Ferry Farm.  Up until the 1990s, families lived and farmed on the property, leaving tens of thousands of artifacts behind.  Some of our favorite modern artifacts are the toys we recover, whether marbles, plastic army and cowboy figurines, doll parts, or miniature tea sets. In this blog, we look at three die-cast toys left behind by the many children who played on the same ground where young George Washington grew up. 

    The first is a small die-cast coal car almost completely intact, except for its missing rubber wheels.  In archaeology terms, we call this artifact ‘talky’.  It makes an archaeologist’s research so much easier when “Midgetoy / Rockford, Ill / U.S.A. / PAT. / 2775847” is embossed on the underside of the car.  However, we still need a date range for this particular toy.  The patent number is a huge help.  After an Internet search, we discovered the patent for this toy was taken out in 1954 by the A&E Tool and Gage Company.  The patent specified an improvement in the wheels to make them rotate more smoothly.  To find the date after which this toy was no longer manufactured, we researched the toy company, Midgetoy, since the patent suggests the toy’s manufacturer started out under a different name.  A&E Tool and Gage was started in 1943 by Alvin and Earl Herdklotz as a defense-based precision tool-and-die business. After the Second World War, they changed their business model to toy making with the goal of creating low-priced die-cast toys.  Thus, Midgetoy was born. The company stopped producing toys in the late 1970s or early 1980s, which represent the approximate end date for this die-cast coal car.

    Our next toy is a fully intact purple die-cast car. With “Tootsietoy Dragster / USA / 3” embossed on the underside, it’s another talky artifact!  Much like Midgetoy, Tootsietoy Corporation started off as something completely different.  Two die casting companies of the Dowst and Shure Brothers were established around the same time in the 1890s.  The companies merged and, in 1909, produced their first model cars: a limousine and Model T Ford. ‘Tootsietoy’ became a registered trademark in 1924. The dragster was not produced until much later, however.  The company didn’t just make cars either It made charms for Cracker Jack boxes as well as die cast dollhouse furniture.  It also produced promotional cars used by dealerships to sell full scale models.  Our dragster has a wedge body with a rear engine, which wasn’t invented until 1974, so this particular toy dates to the mid ‘70s or ‘80s.

    The last toy is one of my favorites, a funky motorcycle.  When it was first discovered, our lab staff thought it looked a lot like a motorcycle from the First World War.  It has an elongated metal body with hard black plastic tires.  Admittedly, our archaeology department knows very little about motorcycles so we started to do some research.  Initially, it appeared as though the toy had no identifying marks. Closer inspection under magnification ultimately revealed that the larger back tire had ‘Corgi’ and ‘Made in Gt. Britain’ faintly embossed on it.  Our initial assessment of the toy being modeled after a World War I motorcycle was completely off.  Although, the toy looked complete to us, the bike was actually missing some parts.  Roughly modeled after a racing bike, it would have had a plastic front piece and a rider figurine. In this case, either Batman, Spiderman, or (our favorite) the Pink Panther, which we would love to recover in a future excavation.

    Aside from these toys being fun to research while occasionally rolling across our desks as we make ‘vrooooom’ noises, they are also poignant reminders of the kids who played here.  The truth is that aside from the Washington children, we don’t know very much about the youth of Ferry Farm.  In many cases, the only record of them living on this landscape are the toys they left behind.  I often wonder who owned these little treasures and how they got lost.  Were the toys missed?  Would any of the adults who grew up at Ferry Farm remember them? When he’s washing a toy, Robert Bailey, a lab volunteer who lived here as a child, often wonders if it was one of his toys.  Regardless, these toys are a nice reminder of the young ones who once played on the same landscape as little George, and that’s pretty cool.

    Mara Kaktins, Archaeology
    Archaeology Lab Supervisor

  • Bad Medicines: Mercury and Self-Medication in the Civil War

    During the Civil War, George Washington’s Ferry Farm was the site of Union Army encampments that included some defensive works like a trench dug into the crest of the ridge overlooking the river.  In that trench and throughout Ferry Farm’s landscape, Union soldiers lost and threw away a wide array of military gear and personal belongings, which our archaeologists frequently excavate.

    Civil War Trench
    Excavated area containing the footprint of the 18th century Washington house at Ferry Farm and showing a 19th century Civil War trench running the length of the house and beyond.

    This blog post highlights an intriguing artifact excavated from the trench: a diminutive glass bottle.  This bottle is not so much interesting because of what it is – it’s a very common medicine style bottle for the mid-19th century– but rather what’s inside.  Clearly visible within the bottle is a hard black substance and for years we’ve wondered what the substance may be.

    Medicine bottle containing mercury residue
    Medicine bottle excavated by archaeologists at George Washington’s Ferry Farm and containing an mystery residue.

    Enter Ruth Ann Armitage, our amazing chemist friend from Eastern Michigan University.  Over the years, she and her colleagues have generously used their extremely fancy equipment to analyze many of the residues we’ve recovered archaeologically. So we chipped off a little fragment of the substance in the bottle and sent it to her lab.

    The sample was analyzed using scanning electron microscopy (SEM).  SEM works by shooting a beam of electrons at the sample, which gives you an image of its surface topography.  Backscattered electrons (BSE), collected in a different detector, tell you about the elemental composition.  In a BSE image, the contrast in the image is related to the atomic number of the material, with brighter areas showing high number elements (usually metals) and darker areas representing low number elements (like carbon). X-rays are also produced when the electron beam hits the sample, so an x-ray detector allows the chemist to do energy dispersive x-ray spectroscopy (EDS) to map out specifically what elements are present in the sample.  To put it simply, all of these techniques are good at alerting the chemist to the elements within a residue.

    Our sample was also run through DART (direct in real time) mass spectrometry.  This technique is good at detecting organic components within a substance.  It’s important to note here that this is not an episode of CSI and a reading does not automatically tell you what is in the bottle.

    Mercury residue analysis 1
    A magnified image BED of sample, which is clearly stratified with darker low atomic number elements such as carbon at the top. The brighter areas represent higher atomic number elements, in this case, mercury.

    That being said, almost immediately, Ruth Ann responded and we weren’t disappointed: “Did you know there’s mercury in this?”  Nope, we did not.

    However, this discovery was not too surprising given the use of mercury in many medicines for thousands of years.  Now a days it’s common knowledge that you shouldn’t drink mercury…or touch it…or inhale it.  Believe it or not many people did not accept mercury’s dangers until well into the 20th century.  Some people born in the 1980s and before might even remember playing with the little balls of mercury from a broken thermometer, am I right?  As weird as it seems this wasn’t that dangerous because mercury is not toxic in such small concentrations.  However, if you were born a little further back you may remember a substance called calomel (mercury chloride), which was marketed as a cure all. Perhaps most tragically, it was as a common teething medication for children until the 1950s.  For a long time, mercury was seen as a potent healing metal and it was readily rubbed on skin, consumed, and vaporized for immediate effect on the lungs.

    And while all of these treatments using mercury did little to address the body’s medical problem, mercury still caused an immediate bodily response, which convinced people it was working to cure their ailments.  When applied topically, it burned. When introduced into the body, it caused a person to sweat, salivate, and have diarrhea. The mucous membranes also went into overdrive, leading many to believe that the bad stuff in your system making you sick was being purged by the mercury.   The reality, of course, was that the body was trying desperately to rid itself of poison, the mercury.  That being said, mercury does actually have a place in the medical world and can be useful, it just took a little while for people to learn how to properly utilize it.

    So, if the residue inside our bottle was medicine, what medicine was it?  Initially our archaeology lab thought it was calomel but the chemical analysis didn’t show any chlorine.  The most interesting components were mercury and sulfur, which could possibly indicate cinnabar, the ore from which mercury is obtained.  The image below is a close up of the mercury and shows the sulfur (dark circles) surrounded by the brighter mercury.

    Mercury residue analysis 2

    Other elements detected include carbon, oxygen, and trace amounts of iron, silica, and aluminum.  A closer look at the DART analysis suggests that the mercury compound might be in the dried remains of a fat or oil based on the presence of substances that form when fats decompose over time.

    What does all this mean?  Unfortunately, without more research, it’s hard to say what was in the bottle other than the basic components already detected.  Because it’s a medicine bottle, our assumption is that the residue it contains was a treatment of some sort in which case we’re dealing with a soldier who had an ailment.  Common Civil War-era uses for mercury-based medicines were treating skin sores and lacerations, internal and external parasite infections, syphilis, and constipation, to name but a few.

    What is even more interesting is that a nearly identical bottle which also contained a hefty amount of mercury was recovered across the river just a few years ago by Dovetail Cultural Resource Group from another Civil War context.  Read more about their discovery here.

    Soldiers throughout history are known to have carried their own medicines with them so it’s very cool to see actual physical evidence of that.  As to the exact medicine, perhaps we’ll know someday but for now let’s just say it was definitely bad medicine.

    Mara Kaktins, Archaeologist
    Archaeology Lab Supervisor

  • Bad Medicines: Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrup

    It’s hard to believe that there was once a time when products weren’t covered in labels listing all their ingredients in great detail. We are used to labels promising the absence of unhealthy chemicals. We are accustomed to labels warning when a product was packaged in the same facility as an allergen. Product safety is serious concern of manufacturers and customers. We, as a society, are growing increasingly aware of what is going into our bodies.

    Label with an allergen warning

    Before the creation of the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) in 1906, products did not carry ingredient labels. Regulations on medicines were especially lax, compared to today. In this blog, we begin exploring historic cases of “bad medicines” that were used by someone living or working either at Ferry Farm and Kenmore long before federal regulations came into play. Medical history is a profound example of how even well-intentioned people can make lasting and deadly mistakes.

    People have lived at or worked on Ferry Farm for over 300 years. We have archaeologically excavated hundreds of thousands of artifacts from the 18th and 19th centuries. Among these artifacts are fragments of glass in all shapes and sizes. Many are bottle fragments- 47,926 of them to be exact. We can’t always determine the function of a bottle from the fragments found, but when we do find enough pieces to identify the bottle’s function, we excitedly begin research into its use.

    One such artifact is a larger piece of a patent medicine bottle, one that was large enough to make out the embossed lettering on the side and identify its former ingredients. The bottle contained Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrup, first marketed in 1849. Its basic contents were morphine and alcohol so, I suppose, the soothing part of the name was indeed correct.

    Fragment of Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup bottle
    Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrup bottle fragment excavated at George Washington’s Ferry farm.

    Complete Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup bottle
    Complete Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrup bottle. Credit: P0mbal / Wikipedia

    Today, Avinza® is a common morphine sulfate medication prescribed to patients suffering chronic pain. The FDA has covered its bases on the use of this medication, thoroughly describing how to take this medication without dying. One section very forcibly states:

    “Swallow AVINZA whole. Do not cut, break, chew, crush, dissolve, snort, or inject AVINZA because this may cause you to overdose and die.” [1]

    What is the recommended dosage for this medication, you ask? Around 60 mg of this morphine sulfate PER DAY for an adult. [2] Mrs. Winslow’s soothing syrup contained a whopping 65 mg of morphine PER OUNCE with slack rules on exactly how many drops to give to a teething infant.

    You read that correctly folks – a teething infant.

    Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup advertisement 1
    Advertisement for Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrup. Credit: Museum of Health Care at Kingston

    Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup advertisement 2
    Advertisement for Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrup. Credit: The British Library

    Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrups and other such 19th century medications led to the deaths of thousands of infants. Several children died from withdrawal symptoms after having taking the medication for an extended period of time, but most simply fell asleep never to wake up. Knowing little about drug reactions at the time, and due to the higher infant mortality rates in the 19th century, the cause of the deaths were often blamed on “crib death” (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome or SIDS) or whatever ailment that was causing the child to be fussy enough to drug in the first place.

    It wasn’t until 1905 when investigative journalist Samuel Hopkins Adams exposed the unregulated world of patent medicines in The Great American Fraud.

    This publication attacked every type of patent medicine with testimonies from doctors and patients as well as scientific reports from trusted sources. In the section aptly titled “Baby Killers”, Adams detailed how various “soothing syrups” led to infant deaths from the mid-1850s to 1905.

    Shockingly, Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrup wasn’t the most deadly such syrup in terms of morphine content. Irreparable damage had been caused by all of the different morphine cocktails available on the market in the 1800s. As grieving parents began to realize what had actually happened to their children, these products were taken off the market.

    With an enraged public and 509 pages of proof from Samuel Hopkins Adams, Congress enacted the Pure Food and Drug Act in 1906, creating the FDA to ensure the safety of American food and medicines.  Still, reports of child death caused by soothing syrups persisted until 1910.

    [1] https://www.fda.gov/media/116920/download

    [2] https://www.rxlist.com/avinza-drug.htm#dosage

  • “I Look Not On Things Beneath Me”: Our Snobbiest Artifact, a Wax Seal Stamp That Needs To Dial Back that Sass

    ‘Haughty’ is not a word used often to describe artifacts.  That is, of course, unless the artifact in question is a glass wax seal stamp with a kind of snooty message on it.  Of diminutive size (smaller than a dime) with a pretty little flower in the center it proclaims in reversed letters “I Look Not on Things Beneath Me”.

    Kenmore Wax Seal Stamp 1
    Wax seal stamp excavated by archaeologists at Historic Kenmore.

    Seal Excavated at Kenmore 2
    Closeup view of the wax seal through a digital microscope.

    Drawing of Wax Seal Stamp
    A drawing of the wax seal stamp with the text reversed so it is legible.

    Initially thought to be a signet ring, archaeologists at Ferry Farm reexamined it and determined the itty bitty blue piece of glass is actually a wax seal stamp used to personalize letters.  This seems to be an odd choice of message for the recipient of a correspondence but who are we to judge?

    Found at Kenmore, this pretty little thing likely dates to the late Victorian period and would have been worn by a woman, possibly at the end of a chatelaine.  Chatelaines were all the rage with Victorian women and consisted of a long chain worn around the neck with charms at the end, which could be tucked into one’s dress or belt.  These charms often had practical uses.  Common chatelaine charms included tiny scissors, cute vials, petite magnifying glasses, and minuscule mirrors.

    A woman wearing a chateliane.
    A woman wearing a chateliane.
    An example chateliane without the chain.
    An example chateliane without the chain.
    An example chateliane showing its wax seal stamp.
    An example chateliane showing its wax seal stamp.

    Unfortunately, some fashionable lady lost this at Kenmore over a hundred years ago, possibly while wandering through the garden, drink in hand, and idly thinking of sending off a letter sealed with a snarky wax message reminding everyone that “I Look Not on Things Beneath Me.”

    It’s a good thing that we archaeologists don’t take the same attitude.

    Mara Kaktins, Archaeologist
    Archaeology Lab Supervisor

  • Mickey Owen Was Found in the Plaster!: A Look at Some Curious Inclusions Found in Plaster from Historic Kenmore

    Historic Kenmore is known for the unique decorative plasterwork seen on many of its ceilings. However, some of its most unusual pieces of plaster were discovered during repair work being done in 1989. These were pieces of plaster that contained large clumps of animal hair and newspaper. An inspection of this plaster, considering an architectural artifact, in the Archaeology Lab has led to several theories about the reasons for these unconventional inclusions. But before we discuss these, it is important to first understand how historic plaster was made and used.

    chamber-ceiling
    Decorative plasterwork ceiling in the bed chamber at Historic Kenmore.

    Plaster was one of the main finishes for interior walls in the United States until the introduction of drywall in the mid-20th century. The two main types produced were lime plaster and gypsum plaster. Lime plaster was made of water, lime, sand, and a fibrous material. The lime could be derived from limestone or oyster shells. The plaster found in Kenmore was probably made from oyster shells from the Rappahannock River, instead of limestone which is not native to this region. The fibrous material was some sort of animal hair such as horsehair, cow hair, hog hair, or even yak hair.[1] Gypsum plaster was introduced in the early 19th century and was often used in conjunction with lime plaster. Gypsum plaster did not require a fibrous binder and would eventually replace lime plaster as a finish coat.

    Plaster was applied in a three-coat process. First was the scratch coat, which had the highest hair content of the three coats. This coat was applied to lathe board causing the plaster to ‘key’ (adhere) into the spaces between the lathes. Next, was the brown coat, which was dark in color due to its high content of sand. The last coat to be applied was the finish coat. This coat contained no hair, little sand, and a slightly higher lime content to create a smooth white finish.[2]

    Now that we have a better understanding of how plaster is produced, let’s take a closer look at the unique pieces found at Kenmore. As discussed earlier, it is not unusual to find animal hair in plaster; however, the pieces pulled from Kenmore have exceptionally large clumps of hair not normally seen. Hair was added to plaster to act as a binder. It helped to hold the plaster together, reduce shrinkage, and improve strength.[3] Contrary to what one may believe, the process for obtaining hair for plaster was very selective. The hair had to be long, freshly cut, clean, non-greasy, and dry in order to be used in plaster. It also does not appear that people used hair from their own animals; instead, they bought hair from a tanner’s yard or a merchant. When choosing a hair type, horsehair was favored for its length and strength compared to cow or hog hair. [4]  However, horsehair was probably the most expensive and difficult to obtain out of the three.

    Plaster 01
    A piece of Kenmore plaster that contains a large clump of animal hair.

    Once the hair was acquired, it was mixed with the plaster. During this process, it was important to evenly distribute the hair throughout the plaster.[5] This was where the tradesmen making the plaster pieces found at Kenmore made a mistake. They did not distribute the hair properly causing the large clumps that we see. This caused problems when applying the plaster as well as limited the plaster’s strength.[6] Therefore, it can be concluded that the person making this plaster may not have been trained in plasterwork or was a worker under a tradesman who did not follow directions properly. Perhaps this is some experimental plaster made by William Key Howard, Jr. before he started his restoration of the decorative plasterwork on the ceilings of Kenmore in the post-Civil War period.

    The next interesting inclusion found in the Kenmore plaster was pieces of newspaper. Newspaper was not used historically for the manufacture of plaster; however, a dozen or so pieces of plaster pulled from Kenmore included newspaper fragments. The newspaper appears to have been torn or balled up and then covered in plaster. A skilled tradesman would not have made or applied plaster in this way. From this, we can conclude that whoever applied this plaster was not trained.

    Plaster 02
    A piece of Kenmore plaster that contains both animal hair and newspaper.

    From inspection of the newspaper, perhaps we can learn a little more about who may have done this. Unfortunately, no dates can be found on the newspaper pieces to give a specific time frame. However, from careful inspection of the incomplete newspaper pieces, it appears that many of the pieces are from the comics or the sports section. On one of the small pieces the words Dodgers, shortstop, and Mickey Owen can be identified. From this, it can be assumed that the paper dates between 1941-1945, the years in which Mickey Owen played for the Brooklyn Dodgers baseball team. The Brooklyn Dodgers experienced winning seasons in both 1941 and 1942, due to the skill of Mickey Owen and his teammates.[7] Therefore, it is likely that the newspaper article came from one of these two years. The time frame can also be limited to the months encompassing baseball season (April to October).

    Plaster 03
    Kenmore plaster bit containing newspaper that mentions Mickey Owen playing for the Dodgers.

    With a probable date range for the plaster pieces, we can begin to look at who occupied Kenmore at the time and why they might have made plaster in this way. In 1922, Kenmore was purchased by the Kenmore Association and was operating as a museum by the 1940s. In the early ‘40s, the Kenmore Association was concluding one of its restorations. A possible theory for the inclusion of newspaper in the plaster is that this plaster was used to patch a hole during the restoration. The small amount of plaster found with newspaper inclusions and the way the newspaper is distributed throughout the plaster, with most of the newspaper layered on the bottom and consecutive layers of plaster seen on top, does point to a possible patch job,.

    From the Kenmore 1941 correspondence records, a few references to repair work inside the house were found. In June of 1941, there is a reference to rewiring being done in the house. There is also mention of fire alarms being installed so that they do not show. Finally, the interior walls and ceilings were painted. On the receipt, the painter lists that some of the walls had to be mended. This is the most probable repair in which the newspaper would have been used as a patch. The hired painter was likely not trained in making/repairing historic plaster. This tradesman probably wanted a quick fix and layered newspaper over the spot and plastered over that in order to finish the paint job.

    While plaster may not be the most exciting building material to study, it can give a lot of useful insight into the construction and repair of a house. Conclusions about the people commissioning and conducting the work can be derived from the composition and application of plaster. With a little investigation, even unusual inclusions in the plaster can lead to some surprising discoveries about the people who lived and worked at Kenmore and about the life story of Kenmore itself.

    Tessa Honeycutt, UMW Student
    Fleming Smith Scholar

    [1] Henry, Allison, and John Stewart. Practical Building Conservation: Mortars, Plasters and Renders. Ashgate, 2009.

    [2] Practical Building Conservation

    [3] Practical Building Conservation

    [4] Hodgson, Frederick Thomas. Plaster and Plastering: Mortars and Cements, How to Make and How to Use. New York: The Industrial Publication Company, 1901

    [5] Ibid.

    [6] Practical Building Conservation

    [7] Ibid.