It’s that time again! As we welcome Fall and the beautiful cool weather it brings, let’s take a look back at our Summer 2023 dig season here at Ferry Farm, George Washington’s Boyhood Home. This year’s dig actually involved excavating two separate areas, designated FF-38 and FF-40, within the historic area.
Location of the archaeological projects FF-38 and FF-40 at Ferry Farm.
Project FF-38
The FF-38 area contained a large, dark, soil stain that was discovered by accident during the monitoring of a utility trench in 2016. Only a portion of this feature was visible at that time as it continued beneath the south wall of the trench. We had clues as to the approximate date of this partially-exposed feature, but we still needed to fully uncover the entire feature to establish its total dimensions and determine its age, function, and how it relates to the surrounding landscape.
F.321 as seen in 2016 within the utility trench. Only the northern portion of the feature was exposed at this time. F.321 is outlined in red, and is intruded by a square, lighter-colored 19th-century feature (F. 324).
Our excavation began by the machine removal of two modern layers of gravel that overlay a thick 19th-century layer of plowed soil. The excavation area measured approximately 16 ft. by 20 ft. Our crew of archaeologists then slowly excavated down through the plowed layer until we could identify the boundaries of Feature 321. Fully uncovered, the exciting discoveries began.
First and foremost, we discovered the feature was much bigger than originally thought! What initially appeared in 2016 to be a 5’x7’ roundish feature turned out to be the northern tip of a large rectangle measuring 10’ by 16’. The size and shape alone of the feature shifted our interpretation from a small pit to something larger.
F.321 fully exposed before excavation (outlined in red). The intrusive feature, F. 324, has been partially dug out at the north end of the site.
Feature 321 was divided into four sections and our crew excavated both southwest and northeast quadrants. This excavation approach allowed us to determine that the feature was roughly 1’ deep at the center, with gently sloping sides, and filled with successive layers of soil and ash-filled deposits. These soil layers provided us with an awesome mix of artifacts which were used to nail down the feature’s end date to the middle of the 18th century. But establishing a date is only part of the process: artifacts can further help us identify the function of the feature as well.
F.321 after the southwest and northeast quadrants were excavated. Intrusive Feature 324 is outlined in green.
That being said, we are still unsure of what this feature actually is. Here is what we know so far. There is no hearth of chimney remains. Lack of a fireplace suggests it wasn’t a domestic dwelling, but it could be another type of plantation outbuilding, such as a storage building, shed, or barn. The edges are almost vertical, and the floor is relatively flat. There is no silt so the pit was covered while it was open. It is too regular to be a quarry pit used to harvest clay as a building material.
Even though we are still in the early days of analyzing the artifacts, that doesn’t mean we can’t talk about a few great things we found. This feature had a little bit of everything: personal items, food-related items, architectural debris, domestic items, etc. The crowning glory of the excavation (in our humble opinion) would have to be the complete pipe bowl that was stamped with a maker’s mark that featured the letters “TD.” Other exciting finds include a clipped Spanish coin, sherds to a Westerwald ink well, shark teeth, and prehistoric pottery, just to name a few. This feature also contained a layer of ash that preserved delicate artifacts such as bone, fish scales, and straight pins – items that often don’t survive in the archaeological record.
So what does this all mean? Well, this means that we will definitely be returning to the FF-38 site next season. While we have gathered a lot of information during this dig, there is still much left to find. Expanding our excavation beyond the limits of the feature and excavating one of the remaining two quadrants will help us interpret the feature’s function and how it relates to the 18th-century farm landscape of the Washington family.
FF-40
Wait, that’s not all for this year’s dig. Don’t forget that we had two excavation areas this year. Our second area was FF-40, which was the remains of an 18th century kitchen had experienced an intense fire. This kitchen was partially excavated in the 1990s, so this year’s excavation had more of an exploratory excavation designed to help us establish a game plan for future excavation. We knew the kitchen remains were below the foundations of two later farmhouses, and that the foundation walls of these farmhouses were still extant. Additionally, the interior of the foundations was filled with sand to protect the kitchen site. Our excavations confirmed the location of the farmhouse foundations and the existence of a protective layer of sand! Once our crew were able to get through this sandy fill, a quick clean of the kitchen fill uncovered artifacts that were absolutely toasty. Okay, toasty isn’t a technical term, but the artifacts showed evidence of a fire that burned at extremely high temperatures. This included a high number of architectural artifacts as well as charred ceramics and melted glass. Findings from this year will help guide the excavation in the future.
The burned kitchen site is located beneath these concrete house foundations dating to 1914. This picture was taken after protective sand fill was removed within the excavation unit.
Phew, that was a lot! That sums up our 12-week dig season. We answered a lot of our initial questions and found many more questions to investigate. Archaeologists will be in the lab the rest of the year processing artifacts, researching our findings, planning next season’s dig, and enjoying the A/C. Stop by the lab in the Visitor’s Center and take a peek at what’s happening. See you all in the field next May!
A pest is a broad term for any organism that spreads disease, causes destruction, or is generally a nuisance. In the 21st century, we still constantly battle pests from squirrels who chew through your internet cables or spiders who set up house in the high corner of the ceiling, watching and judging you to evil mosquitoes that ruin outdoor activities and leave you with itchy red welts that no amount of calamine lotion will help. It is a fight as old as time.
I wanted to investigate one pest in particular: rodents. Why were mice and rats present in colonial homes? Why this was an issue? What were some of the methods the Washington’s would have used to combat these furry creatures? And how we know without a doubt that Kenmore and Mount Vernon had rodent tenants.
The Suspects
House MouseBlack Rat aka Roof RatsBrown Rat aka Sewer Rat
The house mouse, or Mus Musculus, originating on the Asian and Indian subcontinent, has become the most successful invasive species in recent history. [1] They arrived in this country with the trading ships and settlers that came to the New World in the 16th century. [2][3]
Similarly, the black rat, aka roof rat, boarded ships for their westward journey around the same time as the seafaring mouse. [4] Their presence is noted by the residents of Jamestown in November of 1608, stating, “When the shippes departed al the provision of the store but that the President had gotten was so rotten with the last somers rain, and eaten with rats and wormes” [5] The notorious brown rat or sewer rat, who seems to currently enjoy the cities of Chicago, Los Angeles, and New York, arrived a little later than their brethren setting foot in the new country around the 1750s.[6]
America, the land of plenty…of garbage
There is no nice way to say it, but living in colonial America was usually gross. Housing wasn’t always the greatest, sometimes being very rudimentary. Food storage was typically simple and easily accessible. But one of the biggest problems (or benefits if you are a rodent) was the lack of systematic waste disposal. [7][8] Garbage (including human waste) was a personal problem often solved by opening the window and chucking out.
We have abundant archeological information from Ferry Farm and Kenmore that supports these habits. A large part of Ferry Farm has been excavated over the decades, leaving clear evidence that the Washington family and their enslaved workers disposed of waste right in the backyard…off the porch. Large amounts of artifacts were discovered and mapped, showing the proximity to the house, meaning the garbage was close, and rodents love trash.
Map showing the concentration of animal bones excavated from the midden at the rear of the Washington house at Ferry Farm.
At Kenmore, the garbage situation seemed to be a little more regulated because the grounds and buildings were planned. The main house was made of brick, surrounded by two wood-built structures containing the kitchen and laundry. During excavations of the kitchen yard (between the house and kitchen), there were minimal artifacts, but a dump site was found west of the kitchen. The location could be accessed by the window or by walking around the side of the building and contained a pig jaw, animal bones, bone-handled knife, and other objects. The kitchen is about 30 feet from the house, with the slave passage doors opening right onto the kitchen yard…plenty close enough for an enterprising rat or mouse.
Bad House-guests
So, why are rodents bad to have in your house? Disease, contamination, destruction, smells, and lots of poop. [9] Rats can squeeze through an opening the size of a quarter. Mice only need the size of a dime…so they will be everywhere in your house and will bring friends. [10] Rats and mice are spreaders of disease from rat-bite fever that spreads through bacteria in the rodent’s saliva, urine, or droppings to the bubonic plague transmitted by the lice hitching a ride on their fluffy friend.[11][12] While today, rodents are relatively low on the list of dangerous disease spreaders in an era of limited medical knowledge and treatments, it could be a matter of life or death.
Contamination and destruction are these creatures’ modus operandi. They get into everything, period. They will eat almost any human food, chewing through any storage system, leaving behind chaos; they have even been known to eat soap and glue. [13] While venturing through the house, they are constantly urinating and pooping, which is smelly, can create mold growth, and should never be consumed. [14] In their quest for food, they often destroy household items, eating books, chewing clothes, gnawing on mattresses, and even nesting in furniture. All of which is not only annoying but expensive to fix or replace. [15][16]
But one of the most offensive things a mouse or rat can do is die in your walls. Take it from Colonel Landon Carter, who had to deal with a rat dying behind his wainscoting, informing everyone, “Wainscoted rooms have their conveniences [inconveniences?] as a dead rat has been stinking behind mine in the hall at least six days and is now intolerable in spite of burning tar…this dead rat stunk prodigiously.” [17]
Surprisingly, colonists used many of the same techniques we do today to eliminate these pests. Pesticides or chemical warfare was widespread, with many recommendations and recipes dating back to the 15th century. I found recipes containing helliberry leaves, bitter almonds, “seade of wild cowcumbers,” colluentida, hemlock seed, aconite or wolfsbane, and arsenic.[18] I don’t know many of those ingredients, but apparently, they kill rodents nicely.
Hemlock seed, the notorious plant which was used to execute Socrates for impiety and corruption of the youth.Wolfsbane an extremely poisonous plant that should be handled with care.
Another method was traps, which are common today. They were pretty popular, and there were many advertisements in the Virginia Gazette from sellers touting that their mouse traps just arrived from England. [19] There are also many instructions for building easy mouse traps like the “deadfall” or “noose” traps, which are as horrible as you imagine. [20][21]
Deadfall mouse trap, c. 1800-1850 Source: V&A Collection
Lastly, one method that is making a comeback is animals, both cats and dogs.[22][23] Cats have been used for ages as rodent killers and are good at their job. [24] A 14th-century manual suggests that if you have problems with vermin, “have as a good supply of cats.”[25] The famous diarist Samuel Pepys wrote in December 1660, “my boy taking a catt home with him from my Lord’s, which Sarah hath given him for my wife, we being much troubled with mice.”[26] There are even modern programs like Barn Buddies that save feral and skittish cats and adopt them out as “rodent control technicians.”[27]
And dogs, mainly terriers, have been used to clear mice and rat infestations for centuries, just like cats. Ever the dog lover, George Washington had terriers at Mount Vernon, which probably helped immensely around the plantation.[28] Today, cities like Chicago and New York use these canines in modern rat hunts.[29] It seems the skills of the terrier will always be in demand.
Little Historians
Lastly, how do we, without a doubt, know that there were rodents at Kenmore and Mount Vernon? Rat nests. Rat nests are usually found in walls or under floorboards, and they not only prove these guys resided in the houses as long as the families themselves, but also provide a fascinating historical glimpse into the material lives of the occupants.
Mount Vernon documented the finding of a rat nest in 1949 behind the wall in Washington’s bedchamber. When dissected, it included buttons, paper, rope, yarn, a whole woman’s shoe, and fabric matching Washington’s bed curtains.[30]
Similarly, in 1989, a rat nest was found in Kenmore while investigating the walls and floorboards. We recently picked apart the bundle to find fabrics, fibers, thread, yarn, newspapers, bones, nutshells, and wood splinters. The remnants in the nest were dated no later than the early 20th century due to dates on newspaper fragments and the absence of plastics.
In conclusion, rats and mice have been a constant annoyance since they first set foot in this country; unfortunately, that is still somewhat true. These enterprising rodents have adopted America as their own and we as fellow citizens must learn to live together despite our often distaste for each other.
Fun Fact – We don’t want to malign rats more than they have been throughout history so we would like to add that rats make good pets. They are quick learners, highly trainable, very clever, and have excellent memories. They are now being trained to detect land mines, diseases like tuberculosis, and even rescue earthquake survivors.
Heather Baldus
Collections Manager
[1] Agwamba, K. D., & Nachman, M. W. (2023). The demographic history of house mice (Mus musculus domesticus) in eastern North America. G3 Genes|Genomes|Genetics, 13(2). https://doi.org/February 2023
[4] Newman, M. H. (2001). The vermin -killers: Pest control in the early Chesapeake [Doctoral Dissertation, Willam & Mary University]. https://scholarworks.wm.edu/etd/1539623387/, pg 111.
[30] Mount Vernon [mount_vernon]. “In 1949, preservation staff removed a rat’s nest from behind a wall in the Washingtons’ bedchamber..”* Instagram, May 19, https://www.instagram.com/p/CsbIc9sOO_2/.
Whilst I costume actors, living historians, and myself from time to time in 18th century clothing, I find myself puzzled about the stark difference between the closures and attachments of ladies’ and men’s garb. I have to lace myself into my stays, tie on layers of padding and petticoats around my waist, and finally pin my gown closed. Men have the enjoyment of a few buttons on their breeches and waistcoat, but that is it. It frequently makes me grumpy how long it takes me to dress in comparison to my male counterpart. I did not understand this phenomenon, until recently.
To put 18th century clothing closures into perspective, you had hooks and eyes, buttons, and ties/laces. Thomas Hancock created elastic for gloves, suspenders, and stockings in the 1820s, but it struggled to withstand heat and last through time. The elastic we know and love in our garments today did not come around until the early 1900s.[1] The modern zipper was patented in 1917 and was used mainly on boots and tobacco pouches. It took another 20 years before the technology even made it to mass produced clothing.[2] By comparison, the button first becomes functional over decorative around 1,000 BCE in Asia. Buttons would eventually travel the Mediterranean during the crusades into European territories around the late 11th century CE.[3] So George Washington did not have a zipper on his pants or elastic on his socks, but he definitely had buttons on his coat.
A eye from a hook and eye set. Source: Ferry Farm Archaeological Collections
Hooks and eyes were sometimes used for gown closures for women in the 18th century. They were not used as much as pins were because of the rigidity in size it created for the garment.
We have buttons from men’s garments in the archaeological collections here at Ferry Farm. We also see buttons all around male portraiture in our curatorial collection. The ladies, however, are stuck with laces, ribbons, and pins. And boy, do we have the pins to prove it in the archaeology collections.
Two metal buttons most likely from men’s garments. Source: Ferry Farm Archaeological Collections Bone buttons Source: Ferry Farm Archaeological Collections Pins were used for pinning jackets closed and keeping caps pinned to your hair. They were a necessary part of dressing. Source:Ferry Farm Archaeological Collections
A small sample of the large collection of brass dress pins found at Ferry Farm. Pins were not used for sewing, as basting before sewing was the regular practice. Pins were used for pinning jackets closed and keeping caps pinned to your hair. They were a necessary part of dressing.
The answer to why this phenomenon is how it is hit me one day after rewatching a lecture given by a former staff member entitled “Betty Washington Lewis and Women’s Health.” Dr. Kelly Brennen Arehart spoke about maternity wardrobes and how women wore their everyday clothing throughout pregnancy. For my contemporary mind, this was shocking, but the more I thought about it the more it made sense.
Women go through a lot of fluctuations in body shape, weight, and proportions in their lifetime. Between hitting puberty and development of curves, to many pregnancies, to the changes of menopause, women’s bodies go through so much. Of course in between all of the big changes, there are also changes to the female body based on time in her menstrual cycle, metabolism fluctuations, or periods of eating more or less or different types of food that all change the body’s shape and size. Unlike today, women of the past could not just go to the shop and buy a pair of pants in the size up. Clothing was incredibly expensive and time consuming to make before sewing machines and mass production come into play. In the 18th century, even the highest classes of women did not have the money or the time to go buy or have new clothing made when they gained a few pounds or got pregnant. It was a matter of adjusting the clothing they already had. And that is exactly what ties, pins, and laces allowed women to do.
The lacing, pinning, and tying made clothing far more adjustable compared to the rigidity of buttons. Women tied their petticoats looser and simply covered the wider gap in the side with their jacket or gown. Stays were either loosened significantly by the laces or they were left unlaced at the bottom entirely, especially in cases of late term pregnancies. On top of the stays, jackets could be pinned further out to allow for more room in the bust and waist, or a stomacher could be added in the center opening of the jacket to expand the top even further.
Whether these closures were intentionally created to be adjustable or if it was just a byproduct of lacking clothing technology, I am not entirely sure. But the idea that buttons were only used on men’s not so fluctuating bodies (for the most part) says something. A button is sewn down and cannot be easily moved or adjusted on a regular basis. Once a button is sewn into place, there is no room for variation in body shape, unless one wanted to move the buttons every time he ate a large meal the previous day.
Even though Betty Washington Lewis had Charlotte, who we believe to be an enslaved woman acting as the seamstress of the Lewis household, Betty was pregnant on and off for twenty years. If Charlotte or another enslaved seamstress had to make a maternity wardrobe for Betty every time she was with child, the seamstress would have no time to do any other tasks whatsoever. It was not economical with precious time or expensive cloth for women to need new clothes every few weeks.
So to tie all this together, I am still not happy that it is so inconvenient for me to dress myself in 18th century clothing, but I understand why getting dressed was this way. The adjustability of women’s clothing was so intentionally created to conform to their bodies in any season it was in. It also opens my eyes to why pins were so important. Without them, a woman could not dress.
…I have a request to make you. Something like the Barrel of Sand suppose you will think it, but really of much more importance to me. It is that you would send out Mr. Bass and purchase me a bundle of pins and put in your trunk for me. The cry for pins is so great that what we used to Buy for 7.6 are now 20 Shillings and not to be had for that. A bundle contains 6 thousand for which I used to give a Dollor, but if you can procure them for 50 [shillings] or 3 pound, pray let me have them. Mr. Welch who carries this to head Quarters waits which prevents my adding more than that I am with the tenderest Regard
If you have followed the news of our excavations, you will have kept up to date with our building finds. The past two summers helped uncover evidence of one such structure, which we now believe represents a corncrib. While the name may seem self-explanatory, we have frequently heard the question, “What is a corncrib?” To answer this, we thought we would dedicate our newest blog to it.
Long cultivated by Native Americans, early colonists quickly adopted corn into their agricultural repertoire. As a crop, corn proved easy to cultivate due to its hardy and adaptable nature, and its high yield to seed ratio made it a prosperous choice. The corn season lasted from planting in early May to the September-October harvest. After this, collected corn, counted as barrels, lay in corncribs. Husking and shelling occurred as needed since home consumption only required a small amount at a given time. This process continued throughout the winter months.
As a food staple, corn became an important part of free and enslaved diets in Colonial Virginia. Corn grew in such abundance that it reportedly fed everything. This led to Virginia husbandry relying on the crop and any decline in quantity led to a state of distress. As for the enslaved, records of food rations allotted to enslaved communities often refer to “pecks” or “bushels” of corn. Corn served as a useful ration since small amounts went far and multiple uses for it existed. It also provided better nutrition, which did not go unnoticed by enslavers. Instances of enslaved rations excluding corn resulted in a decline in health, energy, and production. This made the inclusion of the staple essential.
Despite their forced labor, enslaved communities integrated corn harvesting into their culture. Annual so-called corn shucking festivities proved frequent sights on plantations, especially as corn production expanded. During this time, the harvested corn lay in heaps next to the crib. As the size of the harvest required many people for husking, this event provided time for socializing. A moment filled with music and dance, even neighboring enslaved individuals and relatives not attached to the property could attend under the guise of providing extra labor. This latter detail explains why such gatherings went ahead. Enslavers often encouraged corn-shucking festivities to speed up the process and at times offered rewards to the person who could shuck the most corn.
The expansion of corn production lies in the decline of tobacco. While tobacco served as the original cash crop of Virginia, its cultivation damaged soils, resulting in increasingly poor crop cycles. Some planters, including George Washington at Mount Vernon, opted to plant grains to avoid this trend and thus have more return each year. As tobacco prices fell in the late 1700s, due in part to the Revolution, more Virginia planters turned their focus to grains. This led to an expansion in corn cultivation, as it became a central part of the economy.
No longer used for just animal feed or local consumption, corn became a cash crop. In doing so, more structures related to grains appeared or underwent expansion. Gristmills became more common as did grain stores near wharfs. On plantations, the land devoted to grains increased to sustain production with additional or larger storage buildings, such as corncribs, appearing to accommodate the harvest. Corncribs would soon rank amongst the most common structures to appear on farmlands. Apart from buildings, husking and shelling additionally underwent a change as this now occurred over the course of a few weeks, thus allowing for enslaved gatherings, rather than throughout the winter.
Corncrib
With corn holding such an important position in society, it required proper storage. Native Americans constructed the first corncribs with Europeans taking note of them shortly after arriving on the continent. The structure evidently held significance for indigenous tribes as many place and group names derive from the various words for a corncrib. Interestingly, our modern term “barbecue” comes from “barbacoa,” an indigenous term from present-day Georgia, which has several meanings including corncrib. Apart from ranging in size, the design of corncribs dating from pre-contact to present appear very similar, as several key elements remain consistent.
The main roles of a corncrib constitute storing harvested corn, protecting it, and keeping it dry. To that end, the most recognizable characteristic involves the floor of the structure resting at least a foot off the ground via posts or piles/piers. Raising the structure deterred vermin from accessing the crop and helped keep it dry. The design of the sides additionally helped with this latter desire as vertical slats or offset horizontal siding provided gaps for airflow. Vertical slats for “cribbing” proved the most common during the colonial period.
Overall, the structure required robust timbers and construction techniques that would allow it to carry dead loads and resist interior pressure. Once constructed, the building generally took on a rectangular shape with a gabled roof of shingles, boards, or thatch. This roof could extend over one or more sheds attached to the long sides of the building while a door, typically on a shorter side, provided interior access. The interior varied from an open plan to one with removable dividers to form cribs, hence the name of the structure. Post-colonial era designs could include an additional crib to form a double or “drive-thru” corncrib.
Corn Crib Designs Source: Sloane 1990: 26
Since its adoption by colonists, the building’s name has experienced some variation. While we have gone with “corncrib” at Ferry Farm, several other accurate terms exist. The most simple, and unhelpful for interpreting records, consists of “barn.” During colonial times, “barn” could refer to nearly any outbuilding, and corncribs fall under a barn style called “crib-barns.” This, in turn, may refer to the building. While no standard for outbuildings included on properties existed during this time, corncribs counted amongst the most common. Other name options include the similar “corn-house” and the term “stacks.” This latter term may or may not have “corn” attached to it, but referenced ability to relocate the structure. In the end, unless corn appears in the name, identifying the building requires context clues such as location, crop knowledge, structure design, and recorded narratives.
Our Findings
So what did we find to suggest we had a corncrib? To start, we know from documents dating to Washington occupation that corn constituted one of the crops grown at Ferry Farm. We knew little beyond this until archaeology provided an insight. Across our 2020 and 2021 field seasons, we uncovered four aligning postholes that each measured 10ft apart. At the same time, a decline in artifact count occurred, suggesting our dig lay on the outskirts of the work yard. In 2022, we expanded this dig area to determine if the postholes belonged to a fence or, as we hoped, a building. The low artifact count continued to support the theory of entering the agricultural world and we soon discounted a fence line, as our excavation revealed no further postholes on that line. Moving 20ft south from the postholes, we uncovered a line of three features, also 10ft apart, which aligned with the first three postholes. The issue? They came from piles/piers rather than posts, and one of the stones for that line remains in place (Fig. 5).
Image depicting the lines of 4 postholes and 3 pile/pier sites as of 2022
The two parallel lines evidently went together, but we now needed to identify a structure that used both building techniques. After perusing historic images and sources on 18th century agricultural buildings, we identified the corncrib as the only structure that fit this construction. While corncribs most often stand alone on piles/piers or posts, some examples include an open shed area for carts and temporary storage as discussed earlier. Neither part of the structure would have led to large artifact deposits as the crib merely stored corn while the shed area supported the act of storage.
So what did our corncrib look like? Well, apart from identifying the crib and shed portions, we can say the crib must have rested at least a foot off the ground. Furthermore, in keeping with standard construction, the siding, likely vertical slats, would have breaks in between to allow airflow. As for the basic dimensions of the corncrib, our emergency access road unfortunately runs through the unexcavated portion.
Since we cannot inhibit this access, we only have the complete outline of the shed and one side of the crib (Fig. 6). Still, we can make a few estimates for the structure’s dimensions. While we cannot determine height at this stage, the outline of the shed indicates this portion measured 20x30ft. This, in turn, tells us that the corncrib itself measures 30ft in length. As for the crib’s width, several details allow us to determine a range. One source stated that the length of a corncrib should be 2-3 times the width. Of the examples we identified, they generally had a length about twice the size of the width, with the widest one measuring 20ft. On top of this, shed portions do not appear much wider than the accompanying crib. With this in mind, our crib likely measures 15-20ft in width.
Overview of excavation site showing the 20x30ft shed outline and start of the crib
Future
By now, you must wonder when you will see a corncrib at Ferry Farm. One of our goals involves reconstructing the Washington landscape and this will include the corncrib. Currently, we have started construction on a root cellar and slave quarter. Once completed, these structures will be part of your visit and we will turn our attention to reconstructing more areas. This may include the corncrib, but will likely take a few years. In the meantime, continue to visit our ongoing construction projects and make sure to talk with the archaeologists and interpreters.
Our future corncrib may look similar to this small one at the Museum of Appalachia Source: Wikipedia
Historical Fact: Those familiar with the life of Harriet Tubman may recognize the term “corncrib” as she, her brothers, and several others briefly hid in one while she led them to freedom.
Emma Schlauder
Research Archaeologist
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Washington, George 1771 Survey of Ferry Farm.
Washington, Mary Ball Undated Letter to John Augustine Washington, undated no. 154. Box: 87, Folder: undated no. 154, Identifier: RM-904; MS-5404, The George Washington Presidential Library at Mount Vernon, Mount Vernon, VA.
Welcome back to our 3-Part Blog charting tuberculosis (TB) in the extended Washington Family. If you are new to this series, Part I examined how the disease works, charted its history and explained standard courses of treatments in the 1700s. Part II looked at victims from George’s generation, including his brothers Lawrence and Samuel and brother-in-law Fielding Lewis. You can find those blogs here and here. In our final entry, we will continue to look at individuals who suffered from the disease and see more evidence of how the disease stayed within a family.
As covered in Part 2, George’s brother Samuel died of tuberculosis, as did several of his sons, including George Steptoe Washington. A product of his father’s fourth marriage to Anne Steptoe, George Steptoe became an orphan at age ten. He and his siblings then fell under the care of their uncle, George Washington. George Steptoe would go on to marry Lucy Payne, the sister of Dolly Madison. Like his father, the point of infection cannot be determined but is likely derived from a family member. George Steptoe certainly faced exposure to TB via his father from the moment of his birth but may have caught it later in life. Regardless, his health experienced a serious decline sometime after 1800, and he ultimately traveled to Augusta, Georgia, in search of health benefits. He died there on January 10, 1809.
George Augustine Washington (1759-1793, aged 34) & Frances “Fanny” Bassett (1767-1796, aged 29): George Augustine was another nephew of George Washington through his youngest brother Charles and quickly became his uncle’s favorite. He joined the Mount Vernon household in the early 1780s but had already experienced several periods of ill health that forced him to take leaves of absence from the battlefield. A diagnosis of tuberculosis soon came, leading George Washington to take an involved interest in his nephew’s health. Despite having witnessed the lack of improvement made by his brother Lawrence during such ventures, George funded trips to Berkeley Springs, Barbados, and Bermuda for George Augustine. He returned in May 1785 “in better health than when he set out, but not quite recovered.”1
During George Augustine’s absence, Frances “Fanny” Bassett, Martha Washington’s favorite niece, officially joined the household. Upon his return, the two quickly formed an attachment and married on October 15, 1785. George Augustine later became the manager of Mount Vernon, but his health steadily declined, leading his uncle to describe him as “a shadow of what he was.”2 Despite barely being able to ride, George Augustine traveled to Berkeley Springs in October 1791 but would be bedridden and coughing up blood by August 1792. After battling the disease for over ten years, he finally succumbed in 1793. His death “had been long expected,”3 but nevertheless caused his uncle to feel “it very keenly.”4
The death of her husband left Fanny a young widow with three very young children. Unlike many in that situation, she retained a comfortable lifestyle. As the beloved niece of George and Martha, she always had a home at Mount Vernon and frequently served as an additional hostess. Regardless, she did not remain a widow for long and married Tobias Lear, secretary to her uncle, in August 1795. Sadly, she passed less than a year later, in March 1796, with Lear lamenting, “The Partner of my life is no more!”5 Thought to have died of TB, Fanny likely contracted it from George Augustine during their marriage.
Charlotte (~1770-unknown, aged 27+): Charlotte served as an enslaved seamstress at Kenmore and later at Betty Washington’s final home, Millbrook. She first appears, aged eleven, in the 1781 probate inventory following the death of Fielding Lewis. Few details about her life exist apart from the record of a son, George, and another baby in a document from 1797. However, Charlotte clearly held an important position within Betty Washington’s household, given the medical records we have.
Bill for Charlotte’s medical treatments
Charlotte took ill at Millbrook in 1796 with some form of respiratory complaint. Rather than care for Charlotte personally, Betty sent for the doctor seven times over the year. Charlotte underwent throat examinations and notably received treatment with mercury tablets and ammonia liniment for the chest. The former served as a common cure, which “purged” the body of any imbalances, while the latter mimicked early Vicks VapoRub by opening the airways. None of these treatments would have been pleasant, and the mercury certainly did more harm than good, but Charlotte recovered nonetheless. However, Betty Washington Lewis’ death in 1797 prompted the division of her enslaved staff. In an all-too-common occurrence, Charlotte and her son went to different properties (no mention of the baby exists). They likely saw little of each other after this or never met again. At age twenty-seven, we know Charlotte resided on a property owned by Charles Carter in Frederick County, Virginia. After this, she disappears from the record.
The true nature of Charlotte’s illness remains a mystery. She certainly suffered from a respiratory ailment and received treatment in line with that given to tuberculosis patients. Nevertheless, we cannot conclusively diagnose it as TB or determine if it ever affected her again. Despite this, her story reflects an important aspect of life in eighteenth-century Virginia and a failing of history. An interest in keeping the enslaved healthy enough to work existed, but the actual health of an enslaved individual often went undocumented. We only know of Charlotte’s illness due to the bill sent by the doctor listing dates and treatments. Even this reflects a rarity as the lady of the household generally oversaw medical treatment for the enslaved rather than a physician. Considering the widespread nature of TB, its higher prominence in poor and minority communities, enslaved living and working conditions, and the high death rates recorded amongst Philadelphia’s free Black population in the early 1800s, the disease likely accounted for a high number of deaths within Virginia’s enslaved population. Sadly, we may never know how many individuals died of the disease or its impact on their lives.
You can read the full details of Charlotte’s treatment and life here.
One Black individual known to have died of tuberculosis was Hercules Posey. Hercules came to Mount Vernon in 1767 after his previous enslaver, John Posey, failed to pay a mortgage owed to Washington. Having served as a ferryman for Posey, Hercules initially took up the same position. By 1786, he had moved on to the position of cook, for which he is best known. Highly skilled in his culinary abilities, Hercules counted amongst the nine enslaved individuals the Washingtons brought with them to Philadelphia in 1790. Early 1797, however, found Hercules working as a laborer at Mount Vernon, and he acted to self-emancipate in February. In doing so, Hercules left behind at least three children, Richmond, Evey, and Delia, who he shared with his late wife, Alice. Due to Alice’s status as a dower slave, none of their children would receive their freedom in Washington’s will.
After his escape, Hercules made his way to New York City, where he again worked as a chef. He died on May 15, 1812, with the cause given as TB, and his grave lies in the Second African Burying Ground in Lower Manhattan. Given the span of time between his escape to freedom and death, he possibly contracted the disease after leaving Mount Vernon. Then again, it remains entirely possible that he became ill while enslaved in Virginia or Philadelphia. In this case, he either suffered with an active case for many years, with periods of waxing and waning or had a dormant case that reactivated later in life.
Others: Additional members of the extended Washington family contracted the disease as time went on, and the same goes for the enslaved. However, an interesting aspect of tuberculosis is that far more individuals may have had it but remained unaware. As covered in Part I, TB can go dormant by walling itself off in the lungs. Minor symptoms would have appeared at the time of infection, but those pauses when the disease goes dormant. Depending on how long it remained active and how severe, the TB may have gone unnoticed or been misdiagnosed. If the disease never reactivated, a person could live a full life and never know they had it.
Today, we diagnose tuberculosis through symptom analysis and testing. Multiple successful treatments additionally exist to help people overcome the disease. For the 1700s, however, symptoms alone provided the diagnosis, and the dormant phase served as the only successful reprieve from the disease. The fact that our modern technology and medical knowledge would have saved many of the people covered in this 3-part blog appears evident. Nonetheless, it remains unclear just how many people in the extended Washington family actually contracted TB. This then raises the question, if TB testing had existed in the 1700s, would individuals such as George and Betty Washington have turned up positive?
Emma Schlauder
Research Archaeologist
Bibliography
Anderson, Alicia K. & Lynn A. Price (editors) 2018 George Washington’s Barbados Diary: 1751-52. University of Virginia Press, Charlottesville, VA.
1-4 Fore, Samuel K. George Augustine Washington (ca. 1759-1793). Digital Encyclopedia of George Washington’s Mount Vernon, George Washington’s Mount Vernon < https://www.mountvernon.org/library/ digitalhistory/digital-encyclopedia/article/george-augustine-washington-ca-1759-1793/>. Accessed April 11 2023.
Glen, Justin 2014 The Washingtons: A Family History, Vol 1, Seven Generations of the Presidential Branch. Savas Beatie LLC, El Dorado Hills, CA.
Welcome back to our 3-Part Blog charting tuberculosis in the extended Washington Family. If you are new to this series, Part I examined how the disease works, charted its history, and explained standard courses of treatments in the 1700s. You can find the blog here, and we encourage a review of the “Treatment” section. In Part II, we will begin to look at the family members who suffered from the disease and how this impacted their lives and those around them.
Perhaps the best-known case of tuberculosis in the Washington family pertains to Lawrence Washington. George’s eldest half-brother, credited as serving as a role model, died of the disease in 1752, which subsequently laid the foundations for George to inherit Mount Vernon and become the Father of His Country. Behind this, however, lies one of the more clear timelines for the devastation the disease.
Lawrence may have contracted tuberculosis during his service in the War of Jenkins’ Ear (served 1740-1742) or after his return to Virginia in 1742. Certainly, he had developed severe enough symptoms, particularly a cough, by the end of 1748, to cause him to take a leave of absence from the House of Burgesses. He resumed his duties in the spring of 1749, but his illness forced him home for a final time in May. That same month, George wrote hoping for news that his brother’s cough had improved and that he had “given over the thoughts of leaving Virginia.”1 Lawrence could not provide his brother with the news he desired, and sailed to England in the summer of that year to consult with physicians. Lawrence returned in November with little encouragement, but set out for Berkeley Springs in July 1750, to take the waters. George accompanied his brother on this venture, but they did not stay long.
By 1751, Lawrence had exhausted any hope of finding a cure at home and his doctors recommended visiting a warmer climate. Following this advice, Lawrence and George sailed for Barbados on 25 September and arrived on 2 November. Shortly after their arrival, George recorded that a doctor came “to pass his opinion on [his] brother’s disorder, which he did in a favorable light, giving great assurances that…a cure might be effectually made.”2 George mentions little else of Lawrence’s condition in his journal, a month of course went undocumented as George had smallpox, and he returned to Virginia alone in December.
Lawrence, having not found the relief he hoped for, decided to try Bermuda and journeyed there after George left. In an April 1752, letter to a friend, Lawrence referred to Bermuda as his “last refuge, where [he] must receive [his] final sentence.”3 Describing himself as “a criminal condemned, though not without hopes of a reprieve,”4 Lawrence followed his doctor’s treatment plan by “abstaining from flesh of every sort, all strong liquors, and by riding as much [he] could bear.”5 His doctor advised to take what benefit he could from the climate as another winter in Virginia would surely kill him. While Lawrence remained somewhat hopeful in this letter, he soon wrote again about his “unhappy state of health”6 and expressed the belief that, if it should worsen, he would “hurry home to [his] grave.”7 Evidently, Lawrence soon resigned himself to his impending death as he returned to Mount Vernon and set his affairs in order with the aid of his half-siblings and stepmother. He died on 26 July 1752.
Upon Lawrence’s death, he left behind his wife Anne Fairfax and daughter Sarah. Three other children had already died all under the age of two. Infant mortality frequently occurred in the 1700s, so it proves impossible to know what caused each death. However, it remains a possibility that they contracted tuberculosis from their father, which then killed them quicker due to their age and weaker immune systems, or left them vulnerable to secondary infections. Sarah would suffer a similar fate in 1754, aged four, and her mother, having married into the Lee family, would die in 1761, aged thirty-three. These deaths allowed George to inherit Mount Vernon.
The husband of Betty Washington and the mind behind Kenmore, Fielding Lewis served his country during the war by funding various supply and defense lines. One of the richest men in Virginia, Fielding had the ability to provide aid and, as the brother-in-law of the commander-in-chief, could hardly stay out of the conflict. While his efforts did much for the cause, Fielding drew the short straw by spending nearly all of his money. Accounts of Fielding Lewis’ death often insinuate a connection to the stress of losing his fortune. While this certainly put him under strain, and would not have helped his health, Fielding’s case of tuberculosis meant that he would have died regardless of his financial status.
Tracing tuberculosis in Fielding’s life proves more difficult than that of Lawrence. Mentions of Fielding as ailing exist for several years prior to his death. However, with no description, one can hardly say if this references tuberculosis or some other affliction. Like many, he frequented Berkeley Springs and even purchased property there. Fielding recorded little of his visits, but his interests lay in the spring’s supposed medicinal benefits and, to that end, undertook an annual August trip from 1772 onwards. Throughout the war, Fielding held the rank of colonel and, though he never received a formal posting, oversaw Fredericksburg’s gun manufactory and the defense of the Rappahannock. This position required no military action and had strong connections to his background as a merchant. However, the choice of assignment may have derived from knowledge that he would never be well enough to effectively command troops. Then again, Fielding was in his fifties and had no military experience. In any case, the position reflected a strategic choice that played to Fielding’s strengths and lessened the impact of field inexperience and ill health.
If Fielding hoped for a peaceful death, he would not receive it. In the summer of 1781, with the British encroaching on Fredericksburg, the Lewis household and Mary Washington fled. At this stage, Fielding’s health had significantly deteriorated, leaving him an invalid confined to his home. A sudden evacuation by carriage would have done little to ease his discomfort as the household hurried to another property in Frederick County, Virginia. Once there, Fielding focused on putting his affairs in order and likely did not have the strength to visit nearby Berkeley Springs. The news of the Yorktown victory undoubtedly brought some emotional respite, but it proved short-lived as Fielding died mid-December 1781. The location of his burial site on the Frederick County property remains unknown. Fielding’s death brought immense grief to his widow, Betty Washington, who had lost her brother Samuel to the same disease only three months earlier.
The second son of Augustine Washington and Mary Ball, Samuel grew up at Ferry Farm with his full-siblings. Said to have suffered from tuberculosis for most of his life, it remains unknown where, when, and from whom he contracted it. However, by visiting Lawrence in July 1752, to help put his half-brother’s affairs in order, seventeen-year-old Samuel certainly faced exposure. Samuel died at his home Harewood, near Charles Town, West Virginia, in September 1781, shortly before the victory at Yorktown. The home itself lies conveniently close to Berkeley Springs, which may indicate that its location and Samuel’s move from Stafford County, Virginia, derived from a desire for easy access to the springs and their reputed health benefits.
Despite dying just shy of age forty-seven, Samuel famously married five times. His final wife, Susannah Perrin Holden (1753–1783, m. 1778), survived him, and the fourth, Anne Steptoe (1737–1777, m. 1764), died of complications from a smallpox inoculation. However, the deaths of his first three wives, Jane Champe (1724–1755, m. 1754), Mildred Thornton (roughly 1741–1762, m. 1756), and Lucy Chapman (1743–1763, m. 1762), have long been associated with tuberculosis.
All three experienced rapid declines in health after their marriages to Samuel, and in correlation with several pregnancies. Pregnancy and childbirth proved extremely dangerous during this period, so these deaths could simply be tragic examples. However, as pregnancy exacerbates tuberculosis, the common interpretation remains that the women contracted the disease from Samuel, saw it worsen at an alarming rate due to pregnancy, and the strain of one or more births on top of the disease made it impossible to recover. Regarding his children, several died quite young, which may mirror the fate of Lawrence’s children, and three of his sons who reached adulthood would ultimately die of the disease.
Coming Up
In our final blog on tuberculosis, we will be taking a look at how the disease impacted the next generation of the extended Washington family and those they enslaved. This will be coming out on June 28th.
Emma Schlauder
Research Archaeologist
Bibliography
2-7 Anderson, Alicia K. & Lynn A. Price (editors) 2018 George Washington’s Barbados Diary: 1751-52. University of Virginia Press, Charlottesville, VA.
1 Chernow, Ron 2010 Washington: A Life. Penguin Books Ltd, London, UK.
Felder, Paula S. 1998 Fielding Lewis and the Washington Family: A Chronicle of 18th Century Fredericksburg. The American History Company.
Glen, Justin 2014 The Washingtons: A Family History, Vol 1, Seven Generations of the Presidential Branch. Savas Beatie LLC, El Dorado Hills, CA.
Editor’s Note: As the two-hundred-sixty-ninth anniversary of the skirmish of Jumonville Glen approaches this Sunday, May 28th, some recent and exciting discoveries have occurred at the battlefield. The National Park Service (NPS) released an announcement this week stating that after a four-week archeological investigation, objects have been found to verify the location of the first skirmish, Jumonville Glen, of the French and Indian War. Archeologists found a multitude of artifacts, including several eighteenth-century musket balls.
Figure 1. Detail of a highly stylized depiction of Fredericksburg, VA by Fench soldier Georg Daniel Flohr, who visited in 1782. Despite the use of artistic license, the illustration conveys Flohr’s perception of the 18th Century town as a “rather large” port with “intense boat traffic.” Source: Account of the Land and Sea Expedition in America of the Acclaimed DeuxPonts Regiment from 1780 to 1784
Crowding out the fresh spring air of a wooded countryside, the acidic scent of aerosolized gunpowder began to sting the interior of a nervous 22-year-old’s nostrils. His ears rang from the shock of dozens of nearby explosions. Smoke clouded his vision, and sensory overload likely clouded his judgment. Soon-to-be-familiar sounds followed rapidly: scurried movement, intense chatter, and groans of agony. Yet, the inexperienced youth had to make decisions on behalf of the crowd around him. He found himself at the center of a new form of chaos: the opening volleys of a world war.
Lieutenant Colonel George Washington’s Virginia soldiers had just fired into a French military camp near the Monongahela River in western Pennsylvania at a moment (May 28th, 1754) when peace among European empires and Native American nations sat at a precarious equilibrium. Over the past several months, French forces had been busy erecting Fort Duquesne at the Forks of the Ohio River (the site of modern-day Pittsburgh, PA). Royal Governor Robert Dinwiddie of Virginia considered this commercially and strategically significant location part of the British Empire and sent Washington to the area to help re-establish British control. This was the context in which Washington’s Virginians and a party of Mingo warriors came upon the ill-fated French camp in a ravine soon to be known by the infamous moniker of “Jumonville’s Glen.”[1]
After the first shots rang out around the glen, things only got worse. Washington’s cocommander, Tannagrison (a Seneca politician leading the party of Mingos), summarily executed the French officer in command, Ensign Joseph Coulon de Villiers, Sieur de Jumonville, and events escalated from there. In fact, this frontier skirmish grew into a world war that would not only give rise to the North America of the Revolutionary Era, but would forever alter the power dynamics of entire globe. Consider the growth of the British Empire, two centuries of exploitation and resistance in India, the birth of the United States, the creation of independent republics in Latin America, the French Revolution, English colonization of Australia, the American Civil War, the Assassination of Archduke Ferdinand, the rise of the Axis Powers, the Vietnamese independence movements of the 20th Century, and even the War on Terror. The conflict that Washington and Tannagrison started at Jumonville’s Glen, known as the“Seven Years’ War” or the “French and Indian War” (1754-1763), shaped all these events, along with countless others. And as residents of the Fredericksburg region, the Washingtons and Lewises sat at a crossroads of this worldwide upheaval.
As the 250th anniversary of American nationhood approaches, understanding the Seven Years’ War’s social, martial, and political context is perhaps more important than ever. In anticipation of future posts related to this subject, I hope what is below will introduce you to how the stories of those associated with Kenmore and Ferry Farm intertwined with the larger story of the war.
We’ll start with George. As an officer commissioned in the provincial (colonial) Virginia Regiment, George Washington not only helped initiate the Seven Years’ War but saw his first real military service at places like Fort Necessity or as a volunteer aid-de-camp in the ill-fated Braddock Expedition of 1755, where he nearly died during the famous British defeat at Battle of the Monongahela. Of course, historians have worn countless pens, pencils, and keyboards recording Washington’s involvement in the early stages of the war and documenting the future Commander-in-Chief’s first brushes with combat. However, George’s duties increasingly involved more independent responsibility after 1755. These events came on the heels of George’s formal relocation from his mother, Mary Washington’s, residence at Ferry Farm to his late half-brother’s estate at Mount Vernon.
The two years that followed George Washington’s more well-known deeds at the Monongahela produced circumstances similar to those he would contend with during the American War for Independence (1775-1783). Throughout 1756 and 1757, the Virginia Regiment had to defend a string of small, isolated forts along Virginia’s vulnerable frontier to the west of the Blue Ridge Mountains.[3] The task of managing poorly-supplied posts that stretched from Winchester, VA, to the vicinity of modern-day Martinsville, VA, presented George with the opportunity to develop three aspects of leadership that would define his work in future years: military administration over vast geographical territory, long-term strategic planning, and the sustaining of volunteer troops despite strained logistical resources.
Figure 2: a 1772 portrait Charles Wilson Peal depicting Washington in a uniform similar to those worn by officers of the Virginia Regiment Source:Washington and Lee University
During a tour of Virginia’s frontier forts, the “bad regulation of the militia; the disorderly proceedings of the Garrisons; and the unhappy circumstances of the Inhabitants” shocked the young officer.[4] Washington filled his correspondence of this era with phrases such as “inconceivable trouble” and “unhappy Juncture” as he recorded innumerable instances of paucity, civilian death, and desertion.[5]
Washington’s struggles continued into 1758 when the Virginia Regiment became involved in the Forbes Expedition, a laborious campaign that eventually resulted in the British capture of Fort Duquesne. Around that time, the needs of sick veterans of the past three years of fighting, marching, and garrison duty presented further challenges. None other than Fielding Lewis, a young Fredericksburg merchant and husband of George’s sister Betty, agreed to contract with his brother-in-law to provide for Virginia’s ill. That June, for instance, Lewis sent the material for 60 blankets to “Colo. Washington for the Country Dr.”[6]
Figure 3: View of reconstructed fortifications at Fort Ligonier, the centerpiece of the 1758 Battle of Loyalhanna, an important part of the Forbes Expedition. Source: Jeff Kubina via flickr
As a businessman with a growing family, Fielding Lewis must have had more reason than most to fear the potential adverse effects of world war upon his trans-Atlantic commercial ventures. However, as British fortunes began to change for the better, Lewis reaped the benefits of citizenship in a growing empire. Before the war’s end, he was conducting a lucrative speculation business at a fair in Fredericksburg.[7] Lewis’s success eventually provided the means to commission the construction of Historic Kenmore.
Figure 4: Detail of an 1845 illustration of Fredericksburg as seen from Ferry Farm, showing tall ships by the town’s wharves.. Fielding and his father John invested in several merchant vessels, the towering masts of which were once common parts of Fredericksbrug’s cityscape. Source: Internet Archive
Of course, learning about wealthy and influential men like Washington and Lewis is easy. However, countless individuals of all social standings played a part in the drama of the Seven Years’ War. Part II of this post will explore how those on the Homefront coped with world war and how the conflict transformed the community of Fredericksburg in ways still visible today.
Stay tuned.
Ethan Knick,
School and Youth Programs Manager
[1]David Lee Preston, Braddock’s Defeat: The Battle of the Monongahela and the Road to Revolution (Oxford University Press, 2015), 26-28.
Fred Anderson, Crucible of War: The Seven Years’ War and the Fate of Empire in British North America, 1754-1766 (Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group, 2007), 18-23.
Spring is here, which means another season of exciting archaeological work at Ferry Farm is about to begin! Ferry Farm, the boyhood home of George Washington, has been conducting archaeological investigations for over 30 years with the aim of recreating and analyzing the 18th-century farm landscape that shaped George Washington during his formative years as a young man. Every season brings new discoveries, and this year will be no different.
This season we will be investigating two separate areas within the historic site. The first (FF-38) is a feature discovered in 2018 when we monitored the excavation of a utilities trench for the reproduction Washington house. This large feature, approximately 5’ x 7’ and over 2.5’ deep, is filled with dark brown organic soil and contains 18th-century artifacts, including a wig curler, a signature find for our site. Our excavations will expose the entire plan view of the feature and how it relates to other possible features in the surrounding area.
Figure 1. The location of our two summer projects in the historic area.
The second area of investigation (FF-40) is the site of a colonial-era kitchen that burned early in the Washington family tenure of the farm. Though the building’s remains were the subject of previous archaeological studies in the 1990s, we are going to open the site up again to have a second look. Since we have been unable, so far, to locate the kitchen that would have replaced this one after it was destroyed in a very hot fire, we want to continue examining the one we do know about!
The dig begins the week of May 8th and ends July 21st. The crew will be on-site Monday through Friday, 8 am to 4 pm. We are more than happy to answer questions about our work and show our visitors the artifacts that we find. Assistance is always welcome at our sifting screens, so come by and get your hands just a little bit dirty as we search for answers in the ground!
Epidemics and pandemics loom large in history. Few have not heard of the Black Death or Spanish Flu, and Covid-19 still affects our lives. Short, two to three-year outbreaks of these diseases kill quickly and in staggering numbers, but what about the diseases that have stuck around throughout history and brought about death in a much slower fashion?
Tuberculosis (TB) represents one disease that humanity has never managed to shake. A devastating illness marked by a cough and wasting of the body, it has infiltrated all corners of the world, killing more than any other microbial pathogen. The 1700s proved no exception, and the level of contagion associated with the disease meant that once it entered a family, it proved hard to eliminate. Sadly, this became the fate of many members in two generations of the Washington and Lewis families and, undoubtedly others who came in close contact with them. In Part I of this examination of TB in the Washington family, we will examine the disease itself.
Tuberculosis originated in East Africa, possibly around 3 million years ago, and evolved into our modern strains between 250-1000 years ago. This makes it one of the oldest diseases still in existence. While primarily a disease of the lungs, TB has the potential to infect most tissues and organs. Skeletal deformities caused by certain strains make it identifiable in the archaeological record, which help to date the disease. As humans migrated across the world, they brought the disease with them. Evidence even exists to suggest that TB thrived in parts of the Americas before the arrival of Europeans. Its presence makes it one of the rare diseases that Europeans did not introduce, though encroachment on indigenous groups and confinement of them to specific areas did lead to a rise in cases. Various names have applied to the disease, but in the Western World, the most common historical names include “consumption,” “White Plague,” and “phthisis.”
Highly contagious, the disease could strike anyone, with those living in cramped and unhygienic conditions experiencing a higher risk of infection. Cities, therefore, had more cases than the countryside. However, the true rate of infection for the 1700s remains unknown as the recording of disease cases did not start until the early 1800s. Once this practice got underway, TB ranked as the leading cause of death in places such as Philadelphia, where it accounted for nearly 15% of all deaths in two separate periods (1807-1826: 7,972 deaths or 15.04%; 1831-1840: 6,093 deaths or 14.23%). From statistics such as this, estimates for previous eras can occur with TB likely causing 25% of all deaths in Europe from the 1600s-1800s and similar numbers occurring in North America.
With such a high rate of infection, and its tendency to spread within families, some came to interpret the disease as inherited, while others continued to support the theory of miasma. A more radical thought blamed vampires, leading to several periods of panic in New England during the 1800s. Today, we understand germ theory, but this would not become mainstream until late 1800s and early 1900s—nevertheless, suggestions of TB’s true contagious nature date to at least 1546. German scientist Robert Koch put the debate to rest when he identified Mycobacterium tuberculosis as the causative agent behind the disease in 1882. The rod-shaped bacteria thus gave the disease its common name. This discovery helped lead to the realization that several strains and forms of the disease exist. While M. tuberculosis spreads via the air and droplets, the zoonotic form of the disease, Mycobacterium bovis, thrives in cattle and their relatives before jumping to humans. This occurs through the consumption of contaminated dairy products and produces a near identical infection to M. tuberculosis.
Despite the pathogen’s deadliness, though also in part of it, TB took on a romantic and fashionable nature. Many a character would suffer from the disease in 19th-century literature, with it running as rampant in the novels of the Brontë sisters as it did in their family, and Lord Byron once lamented his good health since a case of TB would make his appearance more interesting to women. The pale, slim, feverish appearance of the infected fit the ideal female body image that emerged between the late 1700s and mid-1800s. On the extreme end of things, some individuals purposefully exposed themselves to the disease in the hopes of achieving this appearance. A more manageable level saw fashion attempt to mimic the symptoms with corsets and skirts creating the illusion of slim waists while makeup lightened the skin and tinted the cheeks.
Sickness
As with every disease, the onset, severity, and progress of the infection varies depending on the health of the infected individual. For instance, tuberculosis could burn through very young children before anyone identified the disease in the 1700s. Likewise, someone with a stronger immune system might fall ill for a longer period before all the symptoms came to together to provide a diagnosis. Nevertheless, TB has several key identifiers.
The disease develops in two basic forms, pulmonary and extrapulmonary. The former sees the infection restricted to the lungs and serves as the most common manifestation. Typical symptoms included a cough, which produces blood at a progressed stage, extreme weight loss, decline in appetite, sweats, fever, fatigue, and paleness. The disease can occur over several attacks, interrupted by brief respites, which worsen with time. As the disease progresses, it leaves holes in the lung tissue giving it an appearance akin to Swiss cheese. Extrapulmonary cases pertain to TB that has spread to an organ or tissue outside of the lungs. The standard symptoms remain in addition to physical indications in the impacted areas. This may include enlarged lymph nodes, sores, and spinal deformities that develop over time. Two forms include Pott’s Disease, TB of the spine, and Scrofula, TB of cervical lymph nodes.
While TB can affect all age groups, historically, it has most often struck the young. In Ancient Greece, Hippocrates noted, “phthisis makes its attacks chiefly between the age of eighteen and thirty-five.”1 Higher rates of death amongst those in their twenties and thirties added to the tragedy of the disease, though hope of relief did exist. TB has a unique ability to go dormant during which it walls itself up in the lungs or simply pauses in other parts of the body. While this latent state can reverse at any point, meaning a victim could have years between symptoms and still die of it, the disease may never reactivate. In this scenario, a person would test positive under modern examinations, but suffer no impact to their health or prove contagious to others.
All active cases, however, lead to a decline in the sufferer’s immune system and leaves them open to secondary infections. Cases of pneumonia, as well as meningitis, prove common. A letter from a Fredericksburg woman, dated March 1867, perfectly illustrates the disease. Her son, who had just passed, suffered an “attack of Hemorrhage of the Lungs” first in 1865 and again in “the summer of ’66.” She reported that he recovered from both attacks, but became ill with the mumps in February of 1867 followed by “the symptoms of fell consumption being clearly developed.”2 The boy ultimately lost the strength to rise and found himself confined to a makeshift bed a few months prior to his death.
Treatment
No cure or successful management plan for tuberculosis existed in the 1700s. As such, roughly 66% of cases resulted in death within the first five years of infection. However, lack of success did not stop doctors from prescribing a standard course of treatment that originated in ancient times. To anyone familiar with medical practices of the eighteenth century, the use of emetics, such as mercury and bloodletting, will come as no surprise. Both treatments aimed to purge the body of an affliction, and doctors applied this to nearly every ailment. In truth, these “cure all’s” did more harm than good, with mercury poisoning the patient and bloodletting weakening them. Still, other prescription medicines may have brought some symptomatic relief or, at the very least, not harmed the patient further.
Other forms of treatment involved lifestyle changes in the form of diet and exercise. Viewing items such as meat and alcohol as harmful in large quantities or too difficult for the body to process, doctors instructed TB patients to eliminate them from their diet. Instead, they should consume plenty of milk, preferably from a donkey, and vegetables. On top of this, the patient should increase fast-paced exercise or travel, such as horse riding, to the extent that their strength allowed. This would ideally force clean air into the lungs. While well-intentioned, neither change could treat a bacterial infection.
Other changes involved relocation. Some may be familiar with the phrase “taking the waters” The belief that natural springs, particularly hot ones, provide health benefits dates to prehistory and exists in multiple cultures. Some truth lies in this, but no spring could cure TB beyond the warm waters and steam providing some relief to a weakened, cough-ridden body. Nevertheless, doctors frequently instructed patients to visit springs, giving rise to Berkeley Springs in Colonial Virginia. A destination for wealthy Virginians starting in the mid-1700s, some visited for general health benefits and the social scene, while others went specifically for TB. If none of these treatments worked, doctors would prescribe a course of action that everyone knew served as a last resort: relocating to a warmer climate. In Colonial America, some patients went to the southern colonies while others elected to try the Caribbean (Figure 6). They found no cure in these locations, but the belief in springs and warmer or dryer climates providing relief for TB victims would continue into the 1900s.
Bane of the Washingtons
All forms of tuberculosis mentioned above existed in the 1700s, but which one did the Washingtons have? Parts II & III of our Tuberculosis Blog will closely examine individuals connected to the Washington and Lewis families that had the disease, but we can make a few conclusions. Regarding contraction of the disease, the number of people afflicted, and their close relations to one another, it remains highly probable that they passed it to each other. Of the eight people identified across two generations, none developed a spinal deformity, and no mention of enlarged lymph nodes appear. This implicates pulmonary TB as the likely suspect in all cases.
Nevertheless, we cannot forget M. bovis. With no knowledge of the disease or methods of pasteurization, the frequent consumption of dairy products and presence of cows on farms made it a key source of potential exposure. The Probate Inventory taken in 1743 after Augustine’s death records an inactive dairy building at Ferry Farm. Whether the Washingtons ever used it for dairy remains unknown, but they certainly obtained and consumed dairy products regularly. We will never know what vector the disease took in entering the Washington Family or when each individual first contracted it, but we can piece together how it affected their lives and ultimately ended them. Stay tuned for Parts II and III: The Victims.
Emma Schlauder
Research Archaeologist
Bibliography
Barberis, Ilaria, Nicola Bragazzi, Lucia Galluzzo, & Mariano Martini 2017 The History of Tuberculosis: From the First Historical Records to the Isolation of Koch’s Bacillus. Journal of Preventive Medicine and Hygiene 58: 9-12.
Brown, Kathleen M. 2009 Foul Bodies: Cleanliness in Early America. Yale University Press, New Haven, CT.
Buchan, William 1772 Domestic medicine; or, The family physician: being an attempt to render the medical art more generally useful, by shewing people what is in their own power both with respect to the prevention and cure of diseases. Chiefly calculated to recommend a proper attention to regimen and simple medicines. Evans Early American Imprint Collection, University of Michigan < https://quod.lib.umich.edu/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=evans;cc=evans;q1=Gout;rgn=main;view=text; idno=N09695.0001.001>. Accessed 11 April 2023.
CDC Symptoms of Pulmonary and Extrapulmonary TB Disease. The Division of Tuberculosis Elimination, CDC < https://www.cdc.gov/tb/webcourses/Course/chapter4/4_ diagnosis_of_tb_ disease_4_clinical_practices_symptoms_of_pulmonary_and_extrapulmonary_tb_disease.html>. Accessed 11 April 2023.
2 Conway, Mary Catherine Washington Henry 1867 “Letter to Jane ?, Cabin Mill – March 22, 1867.” Access granted by Suzanne Leigh Peake (owner) and Wyatt Falcone,
1 Daniel, Thomas M. 2006 The History of Tuberculosis. Respiratory Medicine 100: 1862-1870.
Mackowiak, Philip A., Vera Tiesler Blos, Manuel Aguilar, & Jane E. Buikstra 2005 On the Origin of American Tuberculosis. Clinical Infectious Diseases 41(4): 515-518.
Nardell, Edward A. 2022 Extrapulmonary Tuberculosis (TB). Merck Manual < https://www.merckmanuals.com/ professional/infectious-diseases/mycobacteria/extrapulmonary-tuberculosis-tb>. Accessed 11 April 2023.
National Jewish Health 2013 Tuberculosis: History. National Jewish Health < https://www.nationaljewish.org/ conditions /tuberculosis-tb/history>. Accessed 11 April 2023.
Otis, Edward O. 1909 The Great White Plague. Thomas Y. Crowell & Co., New York.
Palmer, Mitchell V. 2011 Bovine Tuberculosis and the Establishment of an Eradication Program in the United States: Role of Veterinarians. Veterinary Medicine International.
Rankin-Hill, Lesley M. 1997 A Biohistory of 19th-Century Afro-Americans: The Burial Remains of a Philadelphia Cemetery. Bergin & Garvey, Westport, CT.
White, Tim D., Michael T. Black, & Pieter A. Folkens 2012 Human Osteology, 3rd edition. Elsevier Inc., Burlington, MA.
This year at our annual Twelfth-Night celebrations, visitors could enter the kitchen for a short lecture and demonstration. The archaeology and curatorial teams gave the talks to explain two important food items that play a part in Kenmore’s history and the holiday, gingerbread and flip.
Our first demonstration was done by Emma Schlauder, Research Archaeologist at the Foundation. She used a traditional recipe based on Mary Washington’s gingerbread. This is the recipe that the Kenmore Association and the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR) would use in partnering with Hills Brothers Company to create the Dromedary Gingerbread Mix. The mix was sold in the gift shop and shipped around the country, raising money for the restoration of Kenmore.[1]
Emma Schlauder giving a presentation on gingerbread.
Mary Washington’s Gingerbread Recipe
3 cups all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons ground ginger
1 teaspoon cream of tartar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
⅛ teaspoon ground mace
1 large orange
½ cup (1 stick) lightly salted butter, at room temperature
½ cup light brown sugar, firmly packed
1 cup molasses
½ cup warm milk
1 wineglass (2 ounces) brandy or coffee
3 large eggs, beaten
Gingerbread is a term applied to a wide-ranging selection of baked goods with combinations of spices such as ginger, cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg and sweetened with honey, sugar, or molasses.[2]
Ingredients and spices for gingerbread
Emma’s gingerbread used the traditional American sweetener, molasses.[3] Molasses was a commonly used sweetener in early American cooking until the increase of domestic sugar production. Molasses was cheap and a by-product of the refined white sugar produced for the wealthy.[4]
After including all ingredients, it was mixed to create a runny batter. The batter was put into a cast-iron Dutch oven and hung over the fire to cook. Cooking and baking over the hearth was time-consuming and potentially dangerous. It was done with heavy cast-iron pots and pans, often hung over the fire by an iron bar in the back of the oven.[5] Luckily for us, Emma had taken precautions for cooking over the open hearth and was able to bake the runny batter into a dense gingery cake. The cake was enjoyed by many and was determined to be a must-have for the season.
Gingerbread cooking over the fire
Flip
Our next presentation was done by Mara Kaktins, our Archaeologist & Lab Manager, and explored the history and ingredients of a unique drink called flip that would have fit in quite well with the festive celebrations.
The first known mention of flip is from a 17th-century play called “Love for Love” by William Congreve when a character mentions sailors, stating, “We’re merry folks, we sailors: we han’t much to care for. Thus, we live at sea; eat biscuit, and drink flip.”[6] The play does not provide us with a recipe or ingredients for the drink.
Flip –Universal Etymological English Dictionary
Flip is mentioned in the Universal Etymological English Dictionary, first published in 1721. This definition offers more information about what the drink contains by stating, “Flip, a sort of Sailors Drink, made of Ale, Brandy and Sugar.”[7] Full recipes can be found in The Cook’s Oracle, published in 1822; How to Mix Drinks: Or The Bon-vivant’s Companion, published in 1862; and The Curiosity of Ale and Beer: An Entertaining History, published in 1889. These recipes contain spices and ingredients like eggs, rum, sugar, and orange juice.[8][9][10]
Ingredients to make flip: Rum, Whiskey, Sugar, Nutmeg, Orange Juice, Eggs
However, two things make flip different from other holiday drinks like eggnog. First, there is no cream used in the mixture[11] , and second, flip is traditionally mixed by pouring the drink between two different vessels to make sure all the eggs are combined with the alcohol and then plunging a hot iron into the drink to create froth.[12][13]
Instructions state, “To make a quart of Flip: Put the Ale on the fire to warm, – and beat up three or four Eggs with four ounces of moist Sugar, a teaspoonful of grated Nutmeg or Ginger, and a quarters of good old Rum or Brandy. When the Ale is near boil, put it into one pitcher, and the Rum and Eggs, &c. into another; – turn it from one pitcher to another till it is as smooth as cream.”[14] After the mixture is properly combined, it is poured into a cup or tankard and finished off by plunging a hot iron which further mulled and froths the drink and gives it a slightly burnt taste.[15]
Mara Kaktins finishing off a glass of flip with the hot poker
This drink was mixed many times throughout the Twelfth night and was sampled by the staff. Unlike the gingerbread, the reviews for this frothy drink weren’t all that positive. Our modern palates might not be used to the amount of alcohol colonists use to consume. Sadly, while this drink was a hit during George’s festive season, traditional eggnog would be the best bet for the holidays.
These two demonstrations were quite a hit, with a sold-out crowd attending the show. With such a positive response, the archaeology and curatorial departments are looking for more ways to introduce living history to visitors. After gingerbread and flip, the possibilities are endless.
Heather Baldus, Collections Manager
[1] Bryn, Ann. American Cake. Rodale Books, 2016, pg 26.
[2] Goldstein, Darra. The Oxford Companion to Sugar and Sweets. Oxford University Press, 2015. pg 632
[3] Bryn, Ann. American Cake. Rodale Books, 2016, pg 24.
Lives & Legacies 
